Chapter 1: She's just some girl
Chapter Text
The brisk morning air nipped at Katsuki's face as he strode across the sprawling U.A. University campus. His scowl was a permanent feature, as if daring the world to challenge him. Why? He hated mornings. A large cup of black coffee was firmly clenched in his gloved hand—his lifeline to surviving the godforsaken 7 a.m. class. The aroma wafted upward, mingling with the faint chill of the autumn morning.
Students bustled around him, but Katsuki barely paid them any mind, his sharp crimson eyes fixed straight ahead. Occasionally, someone gave him a wide berth, likely put off by the intense aura of "don’t mess with me" he effortlessly exuded.
Reaching the classroom’s closed door, Katsuki leaned against the wall, sipping his coffee and glaring at his phone. He wasn’t checking messages—just pretending to, so no one got any bright ideas about starting a conversation.
“Yo, Bakugou!”
Katsuki glanced up to see Kirishima jogging toward him, his shark-toothed grin as bright as ever. Behind him trailed Kaminari, fumbling with his bag and nearly dropping his phone.
“What do you idiots want?” Katsuki growled, though there wasn’t much heat in it.
“Chill out, dude! Just saying good morning,” Kirishima replied, unbothered as usual. He leaned against the wall beside Katsuki. “Rough night or something?”
Kaminari chimed in, “Let me guess—couldn’t sleep because you were too busy working late?” He laughed at his own joke, but Katsuki’s glare made him falter.
“Shut up before I kill you,” Katsuki snapped, his grip tightening on his coffee cup.
Before Kaminari could retort, two more figures approached. Deku was practically vibrating with nervous energy, clutching his notebook to his chest, while Todoroki walked beside him, calm and expressionless as always.
“Good morning, Kacchan!” Deku greeted, his voice tinged with nervous enthusiasm.
“What the hell do you want, Deku?” Katsuki barked, pushing off the wall and glaring down at him.
Midoriya flinched, fumbling with his notebook. “I-I just wanted to—uh—say hi! And maybe talk about the—uh—the new school year?”
“Don’t care,” Katsuki snapped, taking another swig of his coffee.
“Bakugou, you shouldn’t be so aggressive this early in the morning,” Todoroki said, his tone utterly neutral, as if he were commenting on the weather.
“And you shouldn’t be so damn oblivious, Icy Hot,” Katsuki shot back.
Todoroki blinked, unfazed. “I think you’re unnecessarily loud.”
Before Katsuki could retort, the sound of shuffling footsteps made everyone turn. Aizawa approached, his ever-present tired expression somehow managing to convey both annoyance and indifference. He carried a key in one hand, a thermos of coffee in the other.
“You’re all here early,” Aizawa muttered, unlocking the door. “Don’t make me regret showing up on time for the first day.”
The group filed into the classroom, Katsuki leading the way. As he passed, he grumbled just loud enough for everyone to hear: “This day better not suck.”
“Knowing you, it probably will,” Kaminari whispered to Kirishima, who chuckled quietly.
Katsuki shot them a withering glare over his shoulder before settling into his seat, ready—or as ready as he ever was—for the day ahead.
The classroom buzzed with the soft hum of chatter as more students trickled in, climbing the steps and finding their seats. Katsuki Bakugo sat in his usual spot—dead center of the middle row. It was the perfect position: not too close to the front where Aizawa could single him out, but not so far back that he’d look like a slacker. The area around him was predictably empty. People avoided sitting near him like the plague, which suited him just fine.
The only ones brave—or stupid—enough to plant themselves nearby were Kirishima and Kaminari, who now flanked him on either side. Kirishima was already digging through his bag, while Kaminari had his elbows on the desk, looking like he was ready to nap.
Katsuki glanced around as he pulled out his laptop, noticing Deku sitting up front with that overly eager, wide-eyed expression on his round face. Typical. Beside him sat Yaoyorozu, then their old class rep, who was as put-together as ever.
“How is it that Yaoyorozu got even hotter this year?” came the hushed, conspiratorial whisper from behind him.
Katsuki didn’t even need to turn around to know it was the purple-headed pervert, Mineta. The twerp had saliva practically dripping from his chin.
Kaminari, ever the enabler, nodded eagerly. “Right? She’s on a whole new level.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “You losers have nothing better to do than drool over people out of your league?” he muttered, his voice dripping with disdain.
He turned his attention back to his laptop, pulling up the syllabus Aizawa had emailed last week. The guy hadn’t even let them ease into the semester. No, of course not—Aizawa had to remind them they’d be starting with a quiz on day one. Katsuki had just clicked on the document when Kaminari and Mineta suddenly gasped behind him.
“Who is she?” Kaminari hissed in a loud whisper, practically bouncing in his seat.
“No idea,” Mineta replied, his tone equally obnoxious, “but holy crap, she’s hot!”
“Will you two shut the hell up before I beat your faces in?!” Katsuki snapped, his voice low but sharp enough to make Kaminari flinch.
“Seriously, dude, just look,” Kirishima murmured, elbowing him.
Katsuki growled, debating whether to humor them or just keep his eyes glued to the screen. He begrudgingly decided to look—if only to figure out what the hell had the idiots so riled up.
And then he saw her.
Standing at the front of the classroom was a woman with long, wavy pink hair that spilled over her shoulders like rose-colored silk. Her bright blue doe eyes sparkled as she spoke with Aizawa, her full, glossy pink lips curved into a soft smile. She wore skinny jeans that hugged her figure perfectly and a fitted pink sweater that matched her hair. Even her backpack was pink, decorated with an assortment of keychains, enamel pins, and a plushie of a white dog.
For a moment, Katsuki froze, his scowl faltering.
She is gorgeous.
The kind of gorgeous that made his brain short-circuit for a second before he snapped out of it. His grip on his coffee tightened, and he quickly averted his eyes, heat crawling up the back of his neck.
“Tch,” he muttered, glaring at his laptop screen as if it had personally offended him. “She’s just some chick. What’s the big deal?”
But as much as he tried to ignore her, his gaze kept drifting back.
Her lips moved as she spoke with Aizawa, her expression animated and confident. Her coffee cup—pink, of course—had a faint lip gloss stain on the rim, and Katsuki caught himself wondering what flavor it was. Strawberry, maybe? Cherry?
What the hell is wrong with me? he thought, shaking his head.
“Alright, listen up,” Aizawa’s voice cut through the room, commanding instant silence.
Katsuki snapped his attention to the front, thankful for the distraction. Aizawa stood beside the pink-haired woman, his voice softened.
“I’d like to introduce you to Rosie Takahashi,” he said, his gaze flicking toward her with a rare glimmer of warmth. “This is my daughter.”
The word hit Katsuki like a freight train.
Daughter?
The classroom collectively blinked, the revelation sinking in.
Rosie bowed her head slightly, her smile never faltering. “It’s nice to meet you all. I’ve heard so much about you over the years. I hope we can all be friends.”
Aizawa leaned in to whisper something to her, and her eyes widened briefly before she straightened and added, “Well… most of you.”
The subtle shift in her tone as her eyes briefly landed on Mineta didn’t go unnoticed by Katsuki, and he couldn’t help the faint smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth.
As Rosie turned and climbed the steps toward the seats, Katsuki watched her every move, his coffee forgotten. She was too… pink, too bright, too… perfect. It irritated him how effortlessly she drew everyone’s attention, including his.
She entered the row in front of him, flashing a polite smile at their group before sitting down and pulling out a laptop decorated with colorful stickers. As soon as the screen lit up, Katsuki’s eyes darted to the collage of photos that adorned her desktop background: Rosie with a fluffy white dog, another woman who must’ve been her mother, Aizawa, and another girl.
But none of that held his attention for long. All he could focus on was the sweet, floral scent of her perfume—soft and warm, a perfect match for her appearance.
It was infuriating.
She is infuriating.
He didn’t even know her, and already, she was taking up too much space in his mind. He clenched his jaw, forcing his gaze back to his screen.
She’s just some girl, he told himself, scowling. Get a grip, Bakugou.
But even as he tried to concentrate, her laugh, her scent, her everything lingered, digging under his skin like an itch he couldn’t scratch.
Three hours later, the class finally ended. Katsuki stretched his arms over his head, feeling the stiffness in his shoulders from sitting for so long. Before he could even stand up, the classroom exploded into chaos as almost every student swarmed the row in front of him, clustering around Rosie Takahashi.
He watched her shoulders tense ever so slightly as the horde closed in. Her polite smile remained fixed, but there was a faint flush on her cheeks—embarrassment or discomfort, he couldn’t tell. Either way, she didn’t look thrilled.
Katsuki rolled his eyes, stuffing his notebook and laptop into his bag with more force than necessary.
“Idiots,” he muttered under his breath.
The way they acted, you’d think she was some shiny new toy everyone wanted to play with. It was pathetic. They all spoke over each other, throwing questions at her rapid-fire without giving her a chance to respond.
He glanced at Aizawa, who was packing up his things at the desk. The man’s gaze was locked on his daughter, his brow furrowed slightly, as though debating whether or not to step in.
Katsuki felt his eye twitch as the noise level in the room continued to rise. It was too early in the day for this kind of chaos. Ten in the morning, and they were already acting like damn preschoolers.
“SHUT THE HELL UP AND LET HER BREATHE, DAMMIT! AND GET THE HELL OUT OF MY WAY!” Katsuki barked, his voice cutting through the noise like a whip.
Small, sharp pops erupted from his palms, and the room instantly fell silent. The crowd of students froze, then began to shuffle backward, putting space between themselves and Rosie as they looked at Katsuki like startled rabbits.
Finally, there was some damn peace.
Rosie let out a subtle sigh of relief, so faint that most people wouldn’t have noticed. But Katsuki did.
Even Aizawa looked marginally less tense, his shoulders relaxing as he resumed packing his things.
Rosie glanced over at Katsuki, her lips curving into a small, shy smile. It was brief, but it sent an annoying jolt through him. He turned away quickly, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over one shoulder.
“Damn extras,” he muttered under his breath, shoving his hands into his pockets as he stormed down the steps.
Kirishima, ever the loyal shadow, fell into step beside him. “You good, man?”
Katsuki grunted, not looking at him. “You know I hate mornings.”
“Yeah, but you seem more pissed than usual,” Kirishima said, giving him a side glance.
Katsuki clenched his jaw. “They’re too damn loud for it being only ten in the morning.”
While it wasn’t a lie, it wasn’t the full truth, either. What really got under his skin was the way she’d looked—cornered, overwhelmed, like she wanted to crawl out of her own skin but didn’t know how. It reminded him too much of a scared kitten.
But he wasn’t about to explain any of that to Kirishima.
“I’m grabbing food and another coffee,” Katsuki said abruptly, changing the subject as they exited the building.
“Good idea,” Kirishima said, brightening. “There’s that café near the library. They’ve got those loaded sandwiches I like. Or we could hit up the food trucks by the quad—heard there’s a new one with killer spicy noodles.”
Katsuki exhaled through his nose, relieved that Kirishima had taken the bait. “Whatever. Just pick a place.”
Kirishima launched into an enthusiastic discussion of their options, listing pros and cons for each spot. Katsuki let him ramble, grateful for the distraction.
For the moment, at least, they weren’t talking about her. And Katsuki was fine with keeping it that way.
Throwing his backpack onto the couch, Katsuki dropped onto it with a loud sigh, his head hitting the cushion as he stretched out. The first day of second year at U.A. University had been too damn long. Between the obnoxious classmates, the pop quiz Aizawa had sprung on them, and the swarm around Rosie, Katsuki felt like his patience had been tested all day.
Placing an arm over his eyes, he tried to let his mind go blank, eager for the nap that was calling his name. He was just starting to drift off when his phone pinged with a notification.
He ignored it.
Then came another.
And another.
By the time his phone buzzed for the twentieth time, his eye twitched in irritation. Grumbling, he lifted his arm and glared at the screen, where the notifications practically spilled off the edges.
Of course, it was the damn group chat.
Five years.
Five years he’d been stuck in this stupid chat ever since Deku had added him back in their first year of high school. He never asked to be in it, never wanted to participate in their constant back-and-forth, and yet here he was, dealing with it because apparently leaving the chat wasn’t an option.
Just as the notifications stopped, giving him a sliver of peace, his phone started ringing.
Katsuki stared at the screen, knowing exactly who was calling before he even looked. Only one person dared to call him other than his Mother.
“What the hell do you want?” he snapped, answering on the second ring.
Kirishima’s cheerful laugh rang through the line. “Yo, man! Chill! We’re all planning on heading to Silven’s tonight. You coming?”
Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose. “What makes you think I wanna do that?”
“C’mon, bro, it’s tradition!” Kirishima said, undeterred. “First day of school means we celebrate. You know the deal. Everyone’s going—me, Kaminari, Mina, Jirou, Deku, Todoroki. And Rosie’s coming too.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Like I care who’s going.”
“You care enough to argue,” Kirishima teased.
“Shut up.” Katsuki sat up, running a hand through his hair. “What time?”
“Meeting there at nine,” Kirishima said brightly. “Don’t be late, or Kaminari’s gonna call you out like last time.”
“Like I give a damn about what Dunce Face says.” Katsuki’s voice was sharp, but Kirishima knew him too well to be fazed.
“You better show up,” Kirishima added, a hint of warning in his tone. “You know if you don’t, we’ll all just end up at your place and drag you out anyway.”
“Do I even have a choice?” Katsuki muttered.
“Nope!” Kirishima said cheerfully before hanging up.
Katsuki stared at the screen for a moment, then tossed his phone onto the couch with a heavy sigh. He glanced at the clock on the wall—it was barely four.
Plenty of time.
He rubbed the back of his neck, already feeling the irritation from the morning bubbling up again. He wasn’t about to sit around stewing in it, though.
“Workout first,” he muttered to himself, standing up. “Then I’ll deal with this bullshit.”
Grabbing his gym bag from the corner of the room, he headed out the door. If nothing else, a good workout would help burn off the tension from the day. With any luck, it might even make tonight’s inevitable chaos a little more tolerable.
Katsuki sat in his car, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he stared at the glowing neon sign above the entrance to Silven Realm. The three-story building stood out against the night sky, its flashy exterior already grating on his nerves. He wasn’t in the mood for this crap. He’d been through it every year—showing up with the plan to stay for an hour, maybe two beers tops, and then heading back home. Somehow, every damn year, they roped him into staying longer than he wanted.
Not this time.
His jaw tightened as he glanced at the dashboard clock. It was already 9:20. Great. Late again. Not like he cared what those extras thought. Shoving his phone, wallet, and keys into his pockets, Katsuki stepped out of the car, slamming the door shut. Kirishima had tried calling, but he’d ignored it. If the idiot wanted him here so bad, he could wait.
Walking into the building, the noise hit him like a tidal wave—pounding music, chatter, and the hum of arcade machines. The first floor was packed, crawling with students from U.A. and a few others from neighboring schools. Katsuki moved through the crowd with purpose, heading straight for the stairs. He knew the layout by heart: first floor, restaurant; second floor, bar and arcade; third floor, karaoke and nightclub.
By the time he made it to the second floor, he spotted Kirishima’s unmistakable red hair in the corner, standing with a group of their classmates at one of the high-top tables.
“Bakugou!” Kirishima called out the moment he noticed him, grinning ear to ear. He strode over and clapped a hand on Katsuki’s back. “You made it, man!”
Katsuki shrugged him off with a grunt. “Of course I made it. You wouldn’t shut the hell up about it.”
“I was just about to drive to your place and drag you here,” Kaminari teased, smirking over the rim of his drink.
“Try it, and I’ll murder you,” Katsuki growled, his eyes narrowing.
As he scanned the group, his lips pressed into a thin line. Almost everyone from their class was here, but at least the pink-haired new girl wasn’t. Small victories. “I’m getting a drink,” he muttered, leaving before anyone could rope him into conversation.
At the bar, Katsuki ordered a beer, his patience already thinning from the noise and crowd. He was just about to take a sip when he heard a sudden commotion behind him.
“Rosie! You made it!”
Katsuki froze, his beer halfway to his mouth. Against his better judgment, he glanced over his shoulder—and his breath caught in his throat.
She was shedding her leather jacket, revealing a fitted pink corset top decorated with white floral embroidery that hugged her figure perfectly. High-waisted black shorts showed off her long toned legs, and her black lace-up boots jingled slightly from the charms on the laces. Her pink hair was pinned up elegantly with a white flower hair stick, leaving the delicate curve of her neck exposed.
His eyes lingered longer than he’d have liked, tracing the soft lines of her collarbone and the way her skin glowed under the dim lights of the bar. His jaw clenched. She was surrounded by Uraraka and the other girls, laughing easily as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
Katsuki scowled.
What the hell is she even doing here?
He forced himself to turn away and move back to where Kirishima, Kaminari, Mineta, and Shoji were standing. His classmates were already deep in conversation, though it was the kind that made Katsuki’s eye twitch with irritation.
“How does Aizawa have a daughter like that?” Mineta practically drooled, craning his neck to get a better view of Rosie across the room. “I mean, look at those legs! And her ass—”
Shoji didn’t even let him finish. With one massive arm, he scooped Mineta up like a ragdoll and unceremoniously tossed him into one of the empty booths.
“Keep your disgusting comments to yourself,” Shoji said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Katsuki, meanwhile, could feel the heat rising in his neck as Kaminari snickered, leaning closer to him. “Still, though, Rosie’s gotta be the hottest girl I’ve seen all year. You think she’s single?”
“Probably, but you’d have no chance anyway,” Mineta called from where he’d landed, still recovering but apparently undeterred. “Bet she’s into guys who—”
“Shut the hell up,” Katsuki barked, his voice sharp enough to make Kaminari flinch. His eye twitched as he gritted his teeth, his knuckles tightening around the glass of his beer.
Kirishima elbowed him lightly, trying to diffuse the tension. “Ignore them, man. They’re just being dumbasses.”
“They’re always dumbasses,” Katsuki snapped, taking a long pull from his beer. He kept his eyes firmly on the table, refusing to glance in Rosie’s direction again. But the faint scent of her floral perfume still lingered in the air, tickling his senses and pissing him off all the more.
This night’s already a goddamn headache.
“Seriously though,” Kirishima said, taking a thoughtful sip of his beer. “How is it that we’ve known Mr. Aizawa for five years and never knew he had a daughter our age? Much less that he was married?”
“Maybe she’s quirkless?” Kaminari offered with a shrug, his tone casual.
Shoji shook his head firmly. “No way. Mr. Aizawa isn’t the type to avoid talking about family just because someone’s quirkless. He respects people for who they are, not their quirks.”
“Shoji’s got a point,” Kirishima agreed, nodding. “Aizawa’s the kind of guy who would’ve mentioned her at least once. Even if she were quirkless, it wouldn’t be a big deal to him.”
Katsuki grunted, swirling his beer lazily before taking a swig. “You idiots haven’t figured it out yet?”
The group turned to him, eyes wide with curiosity. Of course, they hadn’t. He rolled his eyes, annoyed by how dense they could be.
“Seriously? It’s obvious.” Katsuki leaned back against the high-top table, crossing his arms. “Aizawa was never married. He probably hooked up with her mom or she was an old girlfriend and had her. That’s why none of us ever heard about it. She was raised by her mother, probably in the States, which is why her Japanese has that slight American accent.”
The others stared at him, jaws practically hitting the floor.
“How the hell do you know all that, man?” Kirishima finally asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Katsuki scoffed, clicking his tongue. “It’s basic common sense. She doesn’t even have the same last name as him. That means she took her mother’s name and wasn’t raised by him. She’s probably been living in America her whole life and only came here recently. Do I need to spell it out for you extras?”
Kaminari blinked, then scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Damn, Bakugou. You’re like a detective or something.”
“Yeah, man, that’s some next-level observation,” Kirishima added, still looking impressed.
“Use your brains for once,” Katsuki muttered, taking another swig of his beer. Just as he finished, his gaze flicked across the room to where Deku was setting up a game at one of the billiard tables.
Perfect.
“Oi, Deku!” Katsuki barked, setting his glass down with a loud clink. His classmates jumped slightly at the sudden volume. “You nerd! I’m gonna crush you at pool!”
Deku looked up from his game, startled at first, but then his expression shifted into a competitive grin. “Bring it on, Kacchan!”
Katsuki smirked, pushing off the table and heading toward the billiard area. Anything to get away from the conversation about Rosie and her family. He wasn’t about to waste more time speculating when he could be beating Deku at something instead.
As he left, Kirishima chuckled. “Guess he’s not gonna let Deku off easy tonight.”
“No kidding,” Kaminari added, shaking his head. “But seriously, how does Bakugou figure this stuff out? I can’t even imagine him paying attention to details like accents.”
“Bakugou’s sharper than he lets on. He was the first person to pass the entrance exam in the Hero course back when we were in high school.” Shoji said simply, watching as Katsuki grabbed a pool cue with a determined look. “He notices things—he just doesn’t always share unless it suits him.”
The group exchanged glances, silently agreeing as they turned back to their drinks. Katsuki, meanwhile, was already lining up his first shot, determined to wipe the floor with Deku. Anything to distract himself from the pink-haired woman lingering in the back of his mind.
Chapter 2: A stupidly beautiful and annoyingly perfect girl.
Notes:
I think I might update this fic twice a week, not sure yet. I do have the first couple of chapters written but we’ll see:)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Two hours in, Katsuki was on a winning streak, having crushed both Deku and Todoroki at pool. His classmates were now migrating to the arcade, the atmosphere dim, with black carpets underfoot and neon lights flickering from the machines. The air buzzed with the sound of electronic beeps and laughter as he leaned against a nearby table, sipping on a beer and watching Kirishima and Kaminari throw axes at targets. He was biding his time, ready to wipe the floor with them in Pac-Man as soon as they were done.
Glancing around the arcade, his sharp eyes caught a flash of pink hair. He froze for a moment, debating whether to follow the movement. Curiosity, as much as he hated to admit it, got the better of him.
He moved quietly, weaving through the crowd until he found himself in a dimly lit hallway near the bathrooms. The air smelled faintly of spilled beer and cheap cologne. His blood ran hot when he saw her pinned against the wall by some guy reeking of alcohol.
“Please let go of me,” Rosie demanded, her voice steady but tinged with anger.
“Come on,” the guy slurred, leaning closer, his hand gripping her forearm tightly. “Just give me your number, and you can go.”
“I don’t want to give you my number,” she snapped, her brows furrowed in frustration. “Let. Go.”
Katsuki felt a surge of rage rise in his chest. The beer bottle in his hand shattered, shards digging into his skin as alcohol dripped to the floor. He ignored the sting, his eyes locked on the scene in front of him.
Rosie and the drunk both turned toward him at the sound. Her eyes widened in shock and fear, while the guy scowled, clearly annoyed by the interruption.
“Get out of here,” the drunk sneered, tightening his grip on her arm and causing her to wince. “Can’t you see we’re busy?”
Katsuki didn’t hesitate. He stalked forward, his crimson eyes blazing with fury. Grabbing the front of the man’s shirt, he yanked him away from her effortlessly.
“Didn’t you hear the girl?” Katsuki growled, his voice low and dangerous. “She isn’t interested. Now get your filthy hands off her before I fucking kill you.”
The guy’s bravado melted away as he sobered up, his drunken haze dissipating as he registered who he was dealing with. His face paled, and he mumbled a string of apologies, stumbling backward and almost tripping over his own feet in his haste to escape.
The hall fell silent, leaving Rosie and Katsuki alone in the dim light. Katsuki turned to her, his anger still simmering.
“You need to be more careful,” he snapped, his tone harsh. “What the hell were you thinking, coming back here alone? You need to learn how to take care of yourself!”
Rosie ignored his sharp words, a small, almost amused smile curving her lips. “Thank you for saving me.”
He scowled, caught off guard by her calmness. “Whatever. Just don’t be fucking stupid next time.”
Her gaze dropped to his hand, blood dripping from the cuts left by the shattered bottle. “Can I see your hand?”
“I’m fine,” he grumbled, brushing her off. “I’ve had worse injuries than this.”
She stepped closer, undeterred, and gently took his hand in hers. Before he could protest, she lifted it and pressed a soft kiss to the back of his hand.
Katsuki’s breath hitched as a tingling warmth spread through him, starting from her lips and radiating outward. He watched in stunned silence as the cuts on his hand stitched themselves together, leaving behind smooth, unblemished skin.
Rosie released his hand and smiled up at him. “Thank you for helping me, Katsuki.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away, her floral perfume lingering in the air.
Katsuki stood frozen, staring at his healed hand. The faint imprint of her lip gloss remained on his skin, glistening faintly in the dim light.
Before he could stop himself, he raised his hand to his nose and inhaled, confirming what he already knew—strawberry. His mind reeled as he replayed the moment, her lips brushing against his skin, the warmth of her quirk, the way she looked at him.
He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the way his name sounded from her lips. How annoying it was that she called him by his first name, something nobody did but his parents.
“Annoyingly beautiful,” he muttered under his breath, his heart pounding as her scent lingered around him.
Katsuki walked into Aizawa’s lecture hall, his coffee cup in hand, and quickly scanned the room. Most of his classmates were already seated, chatting among themselves. The second he caught Kaminari and Mineta heading his way, he shot them a warning glare, daring them to approach. He wasn’t in the mood for their idiocy—not after last night.
Sliding into his usual seat, Katsuki pulled out his laptop and powered it on. Leaning back, he took a sip of his coffee, only to burn his tongue when the door opened, and Rosie walked in.
She was laughing, her soft, cheerful voice cutting through the low murmur of the room. Katsuki’s crimson eyes tracked her without thinking. She wore a green and navy plaid skirt that swayed slightly with her steps, paired with the same boots she’d worn last night, though he noticed the charms on the laces were different. Her dark green sweater was loose but neat, layered over a crisp white button-up. In one hand, she held a coffee cup, while the other gestured animatedly as she spoke to Uraraka and Momo, who flanked her with matching smiles.
It wasn’t surprising that she’d gravitate toward those two—they were friendly, approachable, the type who’d welcome her without hesitation. But the sight of her so easily fitting in, so effortlessly making friends, stirred something he couldn’t quite name.
As she climbed the steps to her seat, Katsuki kept his gaze firmly on his laptop screen, pretending not to notice when she stopped in the row just beneath him.
“Good morning, Katsuki,” she said softly, her tone warm and familiar.
His grip on his coffee cup tightened. Did she just greet him? Using his first name again?
He glanced down at her, but she was already settling into her seat, her pink-painted nails catching the light as she adjusted her laptop.
“Morning,” he muttered under his breath, barely audible, and immediately cursed himself for responding.
Before he could dwell on it, Kirishima plopped into the seat beside him with his usual energetic grin. “Hey man, what’s up?”
Katsuki grunted in reply, taking another sip of his coffee despite his scalded tongue.
“Hey Rosie!” Kirishima leaned forward, addressing her directly. “You were amazing at Space Invaders last night. I can’t believe you got the high score and made the leaderboard!”
Katsuki froze mid-sip, his brow furrowing. She played Space Invaders? That was his favorite game.
Rosie turned in her seat, her smile as radiant as ever. “Dad taught me to play when I was little, so I owe it all to him,” she said, her eyes lighting up with fondness.
Katsuki raised a brow. It was weird to hear her call Aizawa “Dad.” But the look in her eyes was unmistakable—she adored him.
“You should join us Friday night,” Kirishima offered with his usual enthusiasm. “A few of us get together for game night. It’s a lot of fun!”
“That sounds great,” Rosie replied, her face falling slightly. “But I already made plans with Uraraka and the girls for a sleepover this Friday. I’d love to join next Friday, though!”
Kirishima nodded, unbothered. “No worries. You’ll love it when you do join!”
Katsuki sipped his coffee, hiding a smirk. This was why he liked having Kirishima around. His best friend had an easy way of getting people to open up. All Katsuki had to do was sit back and listen, gathering every detail without lifting a finger and dealing with their stupidity.
Kirishima glanced at Rosie’s laptop screen and tilted his head. “Who’s that?”
Rosie glanced down, her smile widening. “That’s my best friend, Akira.”
“Does she live here?”
Rosie shook her head. “No, she’s in America. But she’s visiting in a couple of weeks, and I’m so excited! It’ll be her first time in Japan.”
Kirishima chuckled. “That’s awesome! What about you? Is this your first time here?”
“Oh no,” Rosie said, her smile softening. “I’ve been visiting every summer since I was seven. Before that, Dad used to visit me in America.”
Katsuki’s smirk grew. Just as he suspected—she grew up abroad with her mother.
“What made you decide to move here for school?” Kirishima asked, his voice genuinely curious.
A shadow crossed Rosie’s face, her smile dimming. “I wanted to be closer to my dad. I missed him a lot, and seeing him only in the summers wasn’t enough anymore. After finishing my first year of university in the States, I transferred here.” She hesitated, then added, “Mr. Nezu was kind enough to let me take Dad’s class despite me being his daughter.”
Katsuki frowned, the sadness in her tone bothering him more than he cared to admit. He took a longer sip of his coffee, trying to drown out the strange pang in his chest.
“So, do you live on your own or with Mr. Aizawa?” Kirishima asked.
Rosie giggled, the sound lightening the mood. “He wanted me to move in with him, but I decided to get my own place. We compromised—I live close by so he can check in on me.”
Katsuki snorted. Of course the old man was overprotective. He wouldn’t be surprised if Aizawa had a key to her place and installed high-tech security cameras everywhere.
As Kirishima continued chatting, Katsuki silently thanked him. It was easier this way—letting Kirishima do the talking while he pieced together every detail about Rosie from the sidelines. And yet, no matter how much he learned, one thought kept nagging at him.
She is annoyingly fascinating.
Katsuki kept his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his jaw tight as he walked ahead, doing everything he could to avoid glancing behind him. Why? Because Kirishima, in his infinite wisdom, had invited Rosie to join them for lunch.
Great. Now he had to sit and eat with her.
“There are a lot of great places to eat on campus!” Kirishima exclaimed enthusiastically, walking between them like some overly cheerful mediator. “What are you in the mood for, Rosie?”
“I’m not really sure,” she replied, her tone light and thoughtful.
Katsuki clenched his jaw, rolling his eyes at the sound of her voice. Why the hell did she have to sound so... happy all the time? And why did her smile always linger in her tone, even when he wasn’t looking at her?
“Katsuki?” Her voice turned softer, kinder, and it hit his ears in a way that made his stomach twist. “What would you like to eat?”
He stiffened. It took everything in him not to look at her, keeping his head forward instead. “You choose,” he grunted, his voice low.
There was a pause, and he could feel her eyes on him. Then suddenly, she was in front of him, forcing him to stop mid-step.
“Whoa, you good, man?” Kirishima asked, grinning, as Katsuki stumbled slightly.
Rosie tilted her head at him, her blue doe-like eyes studying him with quiet concern. Her brows pinched in the middle, and her lips curved into a faint frown. “Are you sure?” she asked softly.
He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze darting anywhere but her face. “Yeah,” he muttered, his voice more awkward than he liked. “You pick.”
Her frown melted away, replaced by that radiant smile of hers. “Okay.” She turned and resumed walking, falling into step on his right, with Kirishima on his left.
Katsuki grunted to himself, grateful to have her out of his direct line of sight, but he still caught the occasional glance of her pink-painted nails and the faint swish of her plaid skirt as they walked.
“I think I’ll go with the ramen shop near the quad,” she announced after a moment. “It smells amazing every time I walk by it.”
“Good choice!” Kirishima nodded approvingly. “They’ve got the best pork broth around. You’ll love it.”
Katsuki said nothing, his usual scowl fixed firmly in place as they made their way to the shop.
Seated at a small table by the window, Katsuki leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he watched the other two across from him. Rosie had settled beside Kirishima, her delicate hands clasped around a pair of chopsticks as she waited for her ramen to cool.
As Kirishima started talking—something about their last assignment for Aizawa’s class—Katsuki’s crimson eyes subtly drifted to Rosie. He didn’t mean to, but his attention kept catching on little things.
The way she held her chopsticks with perfect precision, like she’d been taught properly from a young age. How she blew on each bite of noodles before carefully lifting them to her lips. She chewed quietly, politely, her movements graceful yet natural, as though she wasn’t even aware of how much care she put into something so simple.
And then there was the faint smile on her face, the way her eyes crinkled slightly when she laughed at something Kirishima said.
It was annoying.
But it was also... captivating.
He shoved a piece of pork into his mouth, chewing roughly as he tried to focus on anything else.
Kirishima leaned forward, grinning as he looked over at Rosie. “So, have you started working on the history assignment yet? You know, the one about the Era of Quirk Regulation we just covered in class?”
Rosie shook her head, her cheeks puffing slightly as she swallowed a bite of her ramen. “Not yet,” she admitted. “I’m still learning about Japan, so I wanted to read up on some of the cultural context first. But I’m planning to get it done soon. Some of the girls in class offered to help me out.”
“Really? That’s awesome,” Kirishima said, his smile widening. “Who’s helping you?”
“Momo and Uraraka,” Rosie said, her face brightening. “They’re both so kind, and they’ve been explaining a lot of things to me since I started here.”
Katsuki listened quietly, pretending to focus on his food as he took in the conversation. Of course those two would step in. He wasn’t surprised they’d taken a liking to her.
“You’ll knock it out of the park,” Kirishima said confidently. “And if you need any extra help, let me know. History’s not my strongest subject, but I’ll give it a shot.”
“Thank you, Kirishima,” Rosie said warmly, her smile making her eyes sparkle. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
After they finished eating, Rosie stretched her arms over her head before standing. “I think I’m going to grab a smoothie before my next class,” she said, picking up her tray to dispose of it.
“Smoothie, huh?” Kirishima said, following her. “Do you have another class today?”
“Yes,” she replied as they walked toward the nearby smoothie stand. “I have Chemistry at noon. It runs until three.”
Kirishima raised a brow, glancing at Katsuki, who trailed a step behind them. “Hey, Bakugou, don’t you have a science class in the same building around that time?”
Katsuki tensed slightly, shooting Kirishima a warning glare. “Yeah, what about it?” he grumbled.
Rosie turned to Katsuki, curiosity lighting up her face. “Oh, really? What science class are you taking?”
He hesitated for a second, then muttered, “Advanced Molecular Studies.”
Her face brightened. “That’s amazing! We should study together sometime. I’m struggling with Chemistry, and it sounds like you’d be really good at it.”
Katsuki blinked at her, caught off guard by the genuine enthusiasm in her voice. He scratched the back of his neck, trying to play it cool. “Tch. Whatever. If I have time.”
Kirishima smirked knowingly, clapping Katsuki on the back. “You’ll make time. Rosie, he’s a genius at this stuff.”
Rosie smiled, her eyes sparkling again. “Thank you, Katsuki. I appreciate it.”
Kirishima glanced at his watch, his smirk growing wider. “Well, I gotta run. I’ve got work to get to. See you both later!” Without waiting for a reply, he gave a wave and jogged off, leaving the two of them standing there.
Katsuki shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling awkward under Rosie’s gaze. She was still smiling at him, the kind of smile that made it impossible to look away for too long.
“So,” she said after a moment, holding her smoothie cup in one hand. “What’s your favorite part of science?”
He swallowed, not sure how to respond. “...Explosions,” he muttered, feeling his ears heat up slightly.
Her laugh was soft and warm, and for once, he didn’t find it annoying. “I should’ve guessed,” she teased lightly. “With your quirk and all.”
Katsuki shoved his hands deeper into his pockets as they walked, scowling at the pavement. Rosie walked beside him, sipping on her smoothie like she didn’t have a single worry in the world, humming some cheerful tune. It was grating, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her to stop. His crimson eyes flicked to her every so often, catching the way her hair swayed or how her lips curved around the straw.
“Are you ever not happy?” he finally grumbled, unable to take the quiet anymore.
“Hardly,” she chirped back, her voice bright and unbothered, like sunshine breaking through storm clouds.
He rolled his eyes, unsurprised by her answer. Of course she wasn’t. She was always smiling, always laughing, always full of stupid energy. Who even was like that? It should’ve been annoying. It was annoying. So why couldn’t he look away?
They walked in silence for a bit longer before her voice broke through the quiet. “I wanted to thank you,” she said, her tone softening.
His brows furrowed. “Thank me? For what?”
“For the first day,” she explained. “When class ended and everyone surrounded me. I know you weren’t trying to help me, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”
Katsuki blinked, caught off guard. She didn’t sound sarcastic or fake. She just sounded... grateful.
“Don’t worry about it,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “I’m not a morning person, and they were crowding me too. Pissed me off.”
Her laughter bubbled up in response, soft and light, like the sound of silver bells. It was ridiculous how it made his chest feel tight.
“You’re amazing,” she said suddenly, her words so easy and genuine it knocked the air out of him.
“What?” he choked, stopping mid-step to stare at her. She just smiled up at him, those big blue eyes sparkling like she hadn’t just made his brain short-circuit.
“You are,” she said again, shrugging like it was the simplest truth in the world. Then she finished her smoothie, tossing the cup into a nearby trash can.
He barely noticed they’d stopped in front of her classroom. The hallway felt too bright, too quiet, like the world had narrowed to just her.
“Thanks for walking with me,” she said, flashing him one last dazzling smile. “See you later, Katsuki!”
Before he could respond, she turned and slipped into her classroom, the door closing behind her. He stood there for a moment, rooted in place, staring at the empty spot where she’d been.
His thoughts were a jumbled mess. Why did she have to smile like that? Why did she have to say those stupid things that made his stomach flip? She was all sunshine and sweetness, and he hated it. Or at least, he told himself he did.
Annoyingly pretty, he thought, his scowl deepening as he finally turned and stalked off down the hall.
But even as he walked away, her laughter still echoed in his ears, and her stupid, sunshine-filled smile stayed burned into his mind.
Get a fucking grip. She was just some girl.
A stupidly beautiful and annoyingly perfect girl.
Notes:
don’t forgot to check out my other stories if you’re interested!<3
Chapter 3: Cutie Mcblondie looks pissed
Notes:
I’m having fun writing this fic🤭 anyway we get a glimpse into Rosie’s pov
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie’s apartment was her sanctuary—a cozy one-bedroom, one-and-a-half-bath home with a spacious living room, a fully equipped kitchen, and a charming balcony. Everything about it screamed her personality, from the blush pink accents and white furniture to the subtle touches of silver-gray that added elegance.
Her dad had helped her pick it out back in March when she first moved to Japan. It had been a compromise—if she wasn’t going to live with him, then she had to live close enough that he could be there in an instant if needed. For a single woman living alone in a new country, she couldn’t argue with his logic.
He’d gone above and beyond, insisting on installing a state-of-the-art security system and keeping a spare key to her place. His protectiveness wasn’t overbearing—it was warm, comforting, and exactly what she needed after the accident that had prompted her to leave the States.
A high-pitched bark snapped her out of her thoughts. Looking down, Rosie smiled at her miniature white poodle, Maya, who pawed at her leg impatiently.
“All right, all right, breakfast time,” she said with a laugh, setting her coffee mug down.
After filling Maya’s bowl, she carried her mug out to the balcony, enjoying the crisp morning air. She sat in the quiet for a few minutes, letting the stillness settle over her, before her phone rang.
“Good morning, Dad,” she answered with a smile, her voice cheerful.
“Morning, sunshine,” came the familiar rasp of Aizawa’s voice.
She giggled softly. “You sound like you just woke up.”
“I did,” he admitted, his tone gruff. “I canceled class. Not feeling great today.”
Her smile faded, replaced by a concerned frown. “How are you feeling now?”
“Terrible,” he said simply, followed by a heavy cough.
“I’m coming over,” she declared, setting her mug down and standing.
“You don’t need to do that,” he groaned. “Don’t you have work?”
“Not for another two hours,” she replied, glancing at the clock. It was barely seven. “I’ll be there soon. Stay put.”
Before he could argue, she hung up and sprang into action. Sliding into her work uniform—a short black pencil skirt, a crisp white blouse, and an apron she’d throw on later—she moved to the kitchen and began preparing soup. She worked quickly but carefully, seasoning it just the way her dad liked.
While it simmered, she swiped on a bit of black eyeliner and mascara, finishing with a layer of her favorite strawberry lip gloss. Once the soup was ready, she poured it into a container, grabbed her purse, and slipped out the door.
The ten-minute walk to her dad’s apartment felt shorter than usual. She had his spare key ready as she approached his door, unlocking it and stepping inside quietly.
The living room was dim, the curtains drawn, and the only light came from the faint glow of his balcony. Aizawa was sprawled on the couch, bundled in a blanket, his usually sharp features softened by exhaustion.
“You should be in bed,” she said gently, closing the door behind her and setting the soup on the kitchen island.
He groaned but didn’t argue, rubbing his eyes. “I was trying to move, but the couch won.”
Rosie rolled her eyes fondly, already moving to fetch medicine and a glass of water. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“I prefer ‘stubborn,’” he muttered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips despite his condition.
Returning to his side, she handed him the water and medicine. “Take these. I’ll reheat the soup and bring it to you.”
He did as he was told, watching her move around his kitchen with ease. It struck him, as it often did, how grown up she’d become. She wasn’t his little girl anymore—she was capable, strong, and nurturing in ways that reminded him of her late mother.
When she returned with a steaming bowl of soup, she sat beside him, insisting he eat. “You need to keep your strength up,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
“You sound like me,” he grumbled, but he took the spoon she handed him and started eating.
“And who do you think I learned it from?” she teased, her smile warm.
Aizawa sighed but couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped. “You’re too good to me.”
“You deserve it,” she said softly, reaching out to adjust the blanket around his shoulders.
Once he’d finished the soup, she cleaned up and set the empty bowl in the sink. “I have to head to work,” she said, glancing at the time.
He frowned but nodded. “Be careful. Call me if anything happens.”
“I will,” she promised, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Rest, okay? And drink plenty of water. I’ll come check on you after work.”
As Rosie left Aizawa’s condominium, a small smile played on her lips. She adjusted the scarf around her neck, the cool morning air biting at her skin. Aizawa might be protective, but when it came to looking after him, Rosie always found ways to assert her care. It was a delicate balance, one she secretly enjoyed mastering.
She applied another coat of her pink-tinted, strawberry flavored lip gloss as she strolled down the bustling streets. Her headphones connected to her phone automatically, and she hummed along to her playlist. The city was alive, as always, with people rushing to work, couples walking hand-in-hand, and the faint aroma of fresh pastries drifting from nearby bakeries.
Twenty minutes before her shift began, Rosie arrived at Ishlamare, the most popular coffee shop among U.A. University students. The inviting scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries greeted her as she stepped inside.
The shop was a haven for students and locals alike. Cozy and dimly lit, it offered a sense of warmth even on the coldest days. One side of the first floor was lined with bookshelves, plush armchairs, and couches—perfect for reading or lounging with friends. The other side had large, cushioned booths, frequently occupied by groups cramming for exams or catching up over steaming mugs of coffee. Upstairs, the second floor was reserved for university students, providing a quieter atmosphere for those needing to focus.
Rosie weaved through the morning crowd with practiced ease, nodding politely to a few regulars who recognized her. She slipped into the employee room at the back of the shop, a small but functional space with lockers, an old worn couch, and a mirror for last-minute touch-ups.
She opened her locker, stowed away her purse, and slipped her phone into the pocket of her apron after tying it snugly around her waist. Grabbing a hair tie, she gathered her pink hair into a messy bun and glanced at the clock on the wall. With five minutes to spare, she clocked in at the small terminal near the break room door, her ID card scanning with a faint beep.
The morning rush hit hard as soon as she stepped behind the counter. Orders came flying in: double-shot lattes, oat milk cappuccinos, matcha lattes, and pastries of all kinds. Rosie moved with practiced grace, her hands working the espresso machine as she juggled orders with her coworkers.
“Here’s your caramel macchiato—extra drizzle, just as you like!” she chirped to a regular, earning a grateful smile.
Hours flew by in a blur of steaming milk, tapping coffee grounds, and the hum of conversation. Rosie didn’t mind the rush; she thrived on the rhythm of it all. She greeted each customer with a warm smile, her energy never faltering.
When the clock struck noon, the shop had settled into a quieter lull. Rosie was wiping down the counter, readying herself for the afternoon shift, when the bell above the door jingled. She glanced up instinctively, her smile widening as she recognized three familiar figures stepping inside.
Katsuki Bakugou, Eijiro Kirishima, and Denki Kaminari.
Her heart skipped a beat when her eyes landed on Katsuki, his ash-blond hair slightly tousled as if he’d just come from a sparring session. His crimson eyes scanned the shop, narrowing slightly as they landed on her.
“Katsuki,” she greeted warmly, her voice soft yet clear.
Kirishima grinned wide and waved. “Rosie! Hey, didn’t know you worked here!”
Kaminari nudged Katsuki with a sly smirk. “Looks like someone’s in for a treat.”
Katsuki didn’t say anything at first, his expression unreadable. Rosie noticed the flicker of surprise in his eyes before he schooled his features into his usual scowl.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. He stepped forward, his presence commanding as always.
Rosie chuckled softly, her smile never wavering. “What can I get for you guys?”
Kirishima was the first to respond, ordering a large cappuccino and a blueberry scone. Kaminari followed, debating for far too long before deciding on an iced coffee.
“And you?” Rosie asked, her gaze flicking to Katsuki.
“Black coffee,” he grunted, avoiding her eyes.
She tilted her head slightly, her smile turning playful. “No explosions in a cup today?”
That earned her a snort from Kirishima and a small, almost imperceptible smirk from Katsuki.
“Just the coffee,” he said, his voice gruff.
“Coming right up,” she replied, her tone as sweet as honey.
As she turned to prepare their drinks, she felt Katsuki’s gaze lingering on her. For a man who rarely wore his emotions on his sleeve, his intensity spoke volumes. Rosie couldn’t help but feel a small, secret thrill at the thought.
Since the moment her eyes first laid on him, she had been utterly captivated. How could she not be? He was breathtakingly handsome in a way that seemed almost unfair—effortlessly so, like he wasn’t even trying.
It was her first day of class, and her nerves had been running high. Her dad had stood at the front of the room introducing her to his students. These weren’t just any students; they were the ones he’d been teaching and mentoring since they were fifteen. Rosie could feel the weight of their curiosity and quiet scrutiny as she turned to face them, forcing herself to stand tall and meet their gazes despite her shyness.
And that’s when she saw him.
He was leaned back in his seat, one arm draped lazily over the back of his chair, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. His sharp, crimson eyes locked with hers almost immediately, their intensity piercing through her. For a moment, she forgot where she was, forgot about the room full of strangers watching her. All she could focus on was him.
He looked effortlessly cool, as if he’d walked straight out of a fashion ad without meaning to. His black coat hung open over a plain t-shirt, paired with dark jeans and heavy boots, giving him a rugged edge that made her pulse quicken. His blond hair was unruly but purposeful, as if he’d just rolled out of bed looking perfect.
It wasn’t just his looks, though. There was something about his presence, the quiet confidence in the way he sat, like the world couldn’t shake him. Even as he sipped his coffee with an air of disinterest, there was an underlying fire in his gaze, a barely-contained energy that made her wonder what it would take to light it fully.
And then, as if on autopilot, she made her way to an empty seat. Not just any seat, though. The one in the row directly in front of him.
She couldn’t help herself—she smiled. It wasn’t a big, flashy smile, but a small, genuine one, as if her body responded instinctively to his magnetic pull.
Sliding into the desk, she settled her bag at her feet and stole a quick glance over her shoulder. He was still watching her, his expression unreadable but his eyes never wavering. Her heart fluttered in a way she hadn’t expected, and she quickly faced forward again, pretending to listen as her dad continued his introduction.
But she wasn’t really paying attention. All she could think about was the boy sitting behind her—the boy who, with just one look, had made her first day at U.A. unforgettable.
At the end of class that first day, things had taken a turn. She had barely sat down before the chaos started. Everyone rushed toward her desk, their excitement bubbling over as they crowded around her. Questions came at her from all directions—rapid-fire inquiries about her background, her quirk, her connection to Aizawa. It was too much, too fast. The press of bodies invading her personal space only made it harder for her to keep up.
Her shyness kicked in, locking her voice away. She struggled to breathe, to form words, to meet their gazes. But nobody noticed. Nobody realized she was floundering.
Nobody but him.
He had snapped at them, his voice cutting through the noise like a whip. “SHUT THE HELL UP AND LET HER BREATHE, DAMMIT! AND GET THE HELL OUT OF MY WAY!
It was enough to make everyone step away, mumbling sheepish apologies as they dispersed. He hadn’t been trying to help her—she could tell by the scowl on his face and the irritated way he slouched in his chair. But he had helped her, whether he intended to or not.
That night, when she was invited to Silven Realm, a cozy and trendy bar not far from campus, she had been eager to go. Not for the socializing, but to thank him. She wanted to show her gratitude for what he had done, even if it had been unintentional.
But once they were there, she found no chance to talk to him. Katsuki was too busy, engrossed in a heated competition with Izuku and Shoto. His fiery nature came alive as he challenged them in darts and pool, his competitive streak commanding the room’s attention.
Hours passed before the opportunity presented itself, though not in the way she had hoped. While heading to the bathroom, she realized too late that the drunk man who had been staring at her all night had followed her. He cornered her, pressing her against the wall with slurred, aggressive advances. Fear shot through her, paralyzing her as she struggled to push him away.
Katsuki showed up then, his presence as explosive as his quirk. He yanked the drunkard off her with pent up aggression, slamming him against the opposite wall. His crimson eyes burned with fury as he growled threats that sent the man scrambling away the moment he was released.
Even after the guy was gone, Katsuki’s anger lingered, his chest heaving as he looked her over.
When she used her quirk to heal the cuts on his hand from the broken beer bottle, she didn’t think twice about brushing her lips against the back of his hand. It was instinctive, but as soon as she realized what she had done, her face burned with embarrassment. Mumbling another quick thank you, she made her escape before he could say anything else.
The memory of his intense gaze and the quiet strength in his actions stayed with her, making her chest tighten in a way she couldn’t explain.
Carrying the tray of drinks, she approached the booth where he sat with Kirishima and Kaminari. They were talking animatedly, their voices blending with the soft hum of the café, but Katsuki was quieter. He leaned back in the booth, scrolling on his phone with his usual air of nonchalance.
“Here are your orders,” she said, her voice warm as she set the drinks down. “A large cappuccino and blueberry scone for Kirishima, an iced coffee for Kaminari…”
Finally, she stepped closer to Katsuki, placing the black coffee in front of him. “And a black coffee for you.”
His eyes lifted from his phone, locking onto hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. His crimson gaze seemed to see through her, sharp and unyielding, as if searching for something beneath her practiced smile. Her cheeks flushed under his scrutiny, her hands gripping the tray a little tighter to keep them from shaking.
“Thanks,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly, but his gaze lingered on her a moment longer before he picked up his cup.
“If you need anything else, please let me know,” she managed to say, her voice faltering slightly as she quickly turned and headed back behind the counter.
Even now, sitting casually in a booth and sipping his coffee, Katsuki looked effortlessly cool and unbearably handsome. She exhaled slowly, trying to shake the feeling of his eyes still on her, even though she was sure he’d already gone back to ignoring her.
The café bustled softly with the hum of conversation, the occasional clink of mugs, and the hiss of the espresso machine. Rosie moved through the space with practiced ease, balancing a tray of empty mugs and plates as she weaved between tables. Shinso followed behind her, a stack of plates in his hands.
“Busy today,” Shinso remarked, his voice calm and steady as they worked in tandem.
“Always is around this time,” Rosie replied with a smile, adjusting her grip on the tray. “Everyone needs their coffee fix before afternoon classes.”
He smirked faintly. “You’re handling it like a pro. Guess you’ve been at this for a while?”
He started working here only a month ago. However, they rarely ever worked the same shift, only passing each other when they were coming and leaving. This was their first shift they ever worked together.
“I worked as a barista before,” she said. “It’s not so bad once you get into a rhythm.”
They continued chatting as they made their way toward the back to drop off the dishes. Rosie listened to Shinso share a funny story about his roommate’s antics, her laughter soft and genuine. But as they neared the swinging door to the kitchen, she felt it—a hot, piercing stare burning into her back.
She resisted the urge to turn around, brushing off the feeling as her imagination. Instead, she focused on Shinso’s story, laughing again as he described the disaster that unfolded when his roommate tried to cook.
Just as they reached the kitchen door, a familiar gruff voice stopped her.
“Rosie.”
Startled, she turned to find Katsuki standing a few feet away, his empty mug in hand. His sharp gaze was locked onto her, the heat of his presence impossible to ignore.
“Oh!” She blinked, quickly recovering as she smiled. “Another black coffee?”
He nodded, his usual scowl firmly in place.
“Got it. Give me just a sec.” She set her tray down on the coffee bar, her movements quick and efficient as she took his mug from him.
Shinso gave her a knowing look and a slight smirk before disappearing into the kitchen with his stack of plates, leaving her alone with Katsuki.
She focused on the task at hand, pouring fresh coffee into his mug. “How’s your day going so far?” she asked, her tone cheerful as she glanced at him.
“Fine,” he grunted, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter.
She didn’t let his curt response deter her. “Classes going okay?”
“Yeah. Whatever.” His answers were clipped, and his gaze stayed fixed on her, though his expression gave nothing away.
She simply smiled and shrugged. “Well, at least you’re having a great day. That’s all that matters, right?”
He made a noncommittal sound, his lips pressing into a thin line as he watched her finish preparing his coffee.
As she set the fresh mug on the counter in front of him, he surprised her by speaking up again. “How long have you been working here?”
Her eyes lifted to meet his. “Since April,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a small smile. “Why?”
“No reason,” he muttered, picking up the mug.
“Enjoy your coffee, Katsuki,” she said lightly, her tone warm despite his gruff demeanor.
He nodded once before turning on his heel and heading back to the booth, his broad shoulders tense as ever.
Rosie set the tray of dirty mugs and plates on the counter with a sigh, quickly unloading them into the sink. The kitchen smelled faintly of soap and coffee grounds as Kanako worked beside her, rinsing dishes and loading them into the large industrial dishwasher.
“Please tell me we’re finally caught up and there are no more customers out there,” Kanako groaned, pushing a stray strand of her long blue hair out of her face.
Rosie leaned back against the counter with a teasing smile. “It’s calmed down, but you know as well as I do, give it a couple of hours and we’ll be slammed again.”
Kanako rolled her dark brown eyes dramatically. “Ugh. Remind me why I’m still working here?”
“So you can feed your addiction to traveling,” Rosie quipped with a giggle.
Kanako let out a theatrical sigh, flipping her hair for effect. “Touché. You know me too well.” She rinsed her hands off and turned to lean against the counter, folding her arms. “But seriously, if I ever get stuck scrubbing coffee mugs for the rest of my life, please drag me onto a plane and abandon me somewhere exotic.”
Rosie laughed. “Deal. As long as you promise to do the same for me.”
Shinso, carrying a few stray mugs from the tables he’d cleared, passed by with his usual calm demeanor. “I’m heading up to clean the second floor,” he said simply, slipping out the back without waiting for a response.
As soon as he was gone, Kanako’s eyes lit up mischievously. She nudged Rosie with her elbow. “So, be honest. Are there any cute guys out there today?”
Rosie felt her face heat instantly. “I—I haven’t noticed,” she stammered, ducking her head to hide her blush.
Kanako narrowed her eyes, studying her with a suspicious smirk. “Haven’t noticed, huh? You’re not a very good liar, Rosie.”
“I’m serious!” Rosie protested, her voice a little higher than usual as she crossed her arms defensively.
“Oh, really?” Kanako raised a brow before suddenly straightening up. “Well, let me go see for myself.”
“Kanako, wait—” Rosie reached out to stop her, but Kanako was already halfway out the door.
Moments later, she returned, her grin practically splitting her face. “You naughty girl,” she teased, leaning on the counter dramatically. “That blonde guy is sexy. And those arms? Wow.”
Rosie’s blush deepened, and she turned away, busying herself with wiping an already clean counter. “You’re being ridiculous,” she muttered.
“Ridiculous? Me?” Kanako gasped, clutching her chest like she’d been mortally wounded. “I’m just stating the facts. And the fact is, you’ve got the best view out there.”
“Kanako, stop!” Rosie giggled, shaking her head.
Kanako smirked, leaning closer. “You know, I think he looked disappointed when he saw me come out instead of you. You should totally head back out there. I bet he’s waiting for you.”
Rosie rolled her eyes, though her heart gave a nervous flutter. “You’re imagining things.”
“Am I, though?” Kanako said with a sly grin. “Go on, Rosie. I’ll watch through the door as you step out and then text you his reaction.”
“I will do it just to prove you wrong,” Rosie replied firmly, but she couldn’t help the shy smile tugging at her lips as she grabbed her tray and headed back out to the café floor ignoring her laughter.
Avoiding looking over at him and his general direction, she made her way back towards behind the counter. Taking quick inventory of what desserts were left and would need to be restocked, she quickly wrote them down on her notepad, ignoring the ding of her phone.
She waited a whole minute before she would look to avoid being eager but before she could look at the text. Shinso came back down with a tray of dirty dishes, she saw his hands were completely full.
“Let me help you,” forgetting her phone, she immediately went to him, reaching for the tray.
“I got it,” he flashed her a shy smile. “Thanks anyways Rosie.”
She felt her face warm, watching as he slipped into the kitchen. Grabbing the rag from behind the counter, she went to wipe down tables and had only finished two tables when her phone dinged again.
Kanako: He was totally staring at you
Kanako: Cutie Mcblondie looks pissed
She was being delusional.
Notes:
the nickname came from my sister when I had a crush on a blonde guy back in middle school so I thought to use it here because why not?
Chapter 4: Why did he even make a pizza delivery uniform look good?
Notes:
Really enjoying this fic, I already have several chapters written🤭😩
Chapter Text
Rosie unlocked her father’s door with her spare key, stepping inside and closing it softly behind her. The apartment was dimly lit, the blinds open as rain pelted the windows. On the couch, Aizawa was wrapped in a blanket like a cocoon, only his head visible as he stared drowsily at the muted TV.
“Hey, Dad,” Rosie greeted softly, slipping off her shoes and setting down the grocery bag she’d brought with her.
Aizawa glanced up, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. “You’re here again? Shouldn’t you be having fun or out with friends?”
“Nope,” she replied cheerfully, already making her way to the kitchen. “Besides, who else is going to make sure you’re eating properly and not living off instant noodles?”
He grumbled something incoherent but didn’t argue further.
Rosie quickly set to work, unpacking ingredients for soup and heating a pot on the stove. As the aroma of vegetables and spices filled the air, she glanced over to see her dad cocooned on the couch, his blanket fortress firmly intact.
“You’re going to melt into that couch if you don’t move around,” she teased.
“It’s comfortable,” he replied gruffly. “You shouldn’t be around me, let me be sick in peace.”
Shaking her head, Rosie turned her attention back to the stove. While the soup simmered, she moved on to tidying up. She collected empty mugs and plates scattered around the living room, threw a load of laundry into the washing machine, and straightened up the clutter on the coffee table.
As she folded a stray blanket, Aizawa’s voice broke the silence. “How are your classes going so far?”
Rosie paused, her hands busy with folding. “They’re good. A bit intense, but I’m enjoying them.”
“And the changes?” His tone softened, concern lacing his voice. “Are you...coping with everything alright?”
“I’m coping well enough,” Rosie said with a small smile, carrying the folded blanket to a chair. “It’s a lot to adjust to, but I’m getting there.”
“And friends? Are you making any?”
She nodded, moving to check on the soup. “I’ve made friends with the girls in your class. They’re really nice. They’ve been helping me get settled.”
Aizawa frowned slightly. “What about the boys? Are any of them bothering you?”
Rosie couldn’t help but giggle, turning to face him. “No, Dad. Mineta hasn’t tried anything, if that’s what you’re worried about. The other boys hold him back before he can even get close.”
Aizawa’s expression darkened, his brows furrowing. “Maybe I should fail him for the semester. It would save everyone a headache.”
“Dad,” Rosie said, her voice laced with amusement, “that’s not necessary. He’s harmless, really. Just...a bit excitable.”
Aizawa grunted, clearly unconvinced.
Rosie ladled some soup into a bowl, brought it over to him, and set it on the coffee table. “Eat up. It’ll help.”
He gave her a look, but unwrapped himself just enough to take the bowl. “Always so sweet, Rosie” he muttered before taking a sip of the soup.
“And you’re too hard,” she shot back with a playful smile. “We balance each other out.”
Uraraka: Since class is canceled, we should go shopping tomorrow!
Momo: What time?
Asui: I have some laundry to do in the morning, but I’m free anytime after 10.
Jirou: My guitar lesson doesn’t end until 10:30.
Mina: We should meet up at the Berry Bar at 12.
Tooru: I can’t make it, I have plans with my mom, but you guys have fun!
Rosie: 12 is a perfect time.
Rosie smiled as she read the confirmations, placing her phone on the charger. She stretched and glanced around her cozy apartment, deciding to finish tidying up before settling in for the night. Humming softly, she fed Maya, her fluffy white poodle, who wagged her tail eagerly at the sight of her dinner.
After finishing her chores, Rosie headed to the bathroom, craving a long, hot shower. Emerging afterward, her hair wrapped up in a fluffy pink towel and a cooling face mask on, she tied her pink silk robe around her waist. The luxurious fabric shimmered under the warm light of her apartment, making her feel relaxed and pampered.
She had homework to do, but the girls had already promised to help her with it during their sleepover on Friday. That gave her the perfect excuse to spend the evening doing what she loved: indulging in raunchy, trashy reality TV and treating herself to takeout.
Rosie wandered to the kitchen, glass of wine in hand, and opened the drawer stuffed with menus. Her dad had recommended the best places to order from when she moved in, and now they were her go-to spots.
“What should I get?” she mused aloud, flipping through the options. Pizza won out as the clear favorite.
Settling back on the couch after placing her order, she propped her feet on the coffee table and began painting her toenails white with tiny pink flowers. The drama on her TV show reached a fever pitch, making her laugh as she carefully added details to her design. She had just capped the polish when the doorbell rang.
Rosie set the nail polish aside, took a sip of wine, and padded to the door, expecting to see a generic delivery driver with her food. She swung the door open, her relaxed smile freezing when her eyes landed on Katsuki Bakugou.
Dressed in a fitted delivery uniform that emphasized his lean, muscular build, he stood there holding her pizza, the faintest scowl on his face. His baseball cap shaded his sharp eyes, but they still burned with their usual intensity.
“Katsuki?” she asked, blinking in surprise.
“Yeah,” he grunted. “You ordered a pizza?”
“Uh, yeah,” Rosie said, her surprise melting into a warm smile. “Come in, let me grab my wallet.”
She turned and walked back into her apartment, leaving the door open for him. She heard him follow her inside with hesitation. Rosie reached for her purse, doing her best to act nonchalant, though she was acutely aware of his presence. She could feel his eyes on her again, and her cheeks warmed.
“You shouldn’t let random people into your place when you’re alone,” Katsuki said flatly, breaking the silence.
Rosie glanced over her shoulder, her lips quirking into a soft smile. “You’re not random. You’re my friend.”
“Tch, who said we were friends?” he scoffed, shifting his weight. “Plus, still a dumb move.”
Before she could respond, Maya came trotting into the room, her tiny paws clicking against the hardwood floor. The fluffy poodle immediately ran up to Katsuki, wagging her tail and yipping excitedly.
“Oh, Maya, behave,” Rosie said, amused.
Katsuki stared down at the small dog, his expression unreadable. “Figures you’d have a tiny, annoying fluffball.”
“Maya’s adorable,” Rosie said, crouching to scoop up the dog. “And she was a gift from my mom.”
For a moment, her smile faltered, but she quickly recovered, kissing Maya on the head before setting her down. She handed Katsuki the money, her fingers brushing his briefly.
“How long have you been delivering pizzas?” she asked, breaking the momentary silence.
“Over a year,” he said, counting the bills. “Easy money.”
“Well, thanks for bringing mine,” Rosie said, walking him to the door. She hesitated, then grabbed an extra ten-dollar bill from the counter and pressed it into his hand.
“What’s this for?” he asked, frowning.
“A tip,” she said, grinning. “For great service.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Katsuki muttered, though a small smirk tugged at his lips as he pocketed the bill.
“And you’re grumpy,” she teased. “But thank you, Katsuki. Drive safe.”
He lingered for a beat before nodding and turning to leave. Rosie closed the door, her heart fluttering as she leaned against it, her cheeks still warm.
Why did he even make a pizza delivery uniform look good?
Shaking her head, she grabbed the pizza box and wine glass and padded over to her living room. Settling back into her chair, she open the box and picked off a couple of pepperonis to give to Maya who sat on the couch beside her. As she began to devour the meat lovers pizza with stuffed crust.
The Berry Bar bustled with activity as the girls arrived at exactly noon, the sweet scent of fresh fruit wafting through the air. Rosie stepped inside, dressed in a soft pink dress that flowed just past her upper thighs, paired with a cozy white sweater and matching white boots. Her rosy cheeks and warm smile made her blend perfectly with the cheerful, pastel-colored interior of the café. She spotted the girls already gathered at a corner table, waving her over.
“Rosie, you look adorable!” Mina exclaimed, bouncing in her seat.
“Thanks, Mina,” Rosie said with a shy laugh, settling into her chair. “You all look great too.”
The group exchanged compliments before heading to the counter to order their smoothies. After much deliberation and giggling over the variety of flavors, they returned to their seats, brightly colored drinks in hand.
As they sipped their smoothies, Mina leaned forward with an expectant look. “Okay, Rosie, spill. We want to know more about you!”
Rosie blinked, caught off guard. “What do you want to know?”
“Well,” Jirou said, tapping her straw against her glass, “for starters, you’ve got this mysterious vibe about you. And your dad is Mr. Aizawa, which is, like, so cool. What’s his deal? How’d he meet your mom?”
The table leaned in closer, eager for the story. Rosie smiled softly, stirring her drink as she began.
“My mom came to Japan to visit family, and one night, she met my dad at a bar. They hit it off and started dating for a few months,” Rosie explained. “But my mom wanted to move back to America because my grandmother was sick. My dad couldn’t leave Japan, so they tried long distance, but it didn’t work out.”
“That’s so sad,” Uraraka said, her eyes wide.
Rosie nodded. “Yeah, but it gets more complicated. After they broke up, my mom found out she was pregnant with me. She told my dad, but he didn’t get the news because he was on an undercover assignment in London. He didn’t find out until after I was born. As soon as he did, though, he flew to America to see my mom and me.”
Momo’s hand fluttered to her chest. “That’s so sweet. Did he stay with your mom?”
“No,” Rosie said, shaking her head. “He agreed to come visit every summer and holiday, and he kept his promise. When I got older, I decided to come to Japan to see where he lived and what his world was like.”
“That’s such a cute story,” Asui said, her voice calm but warm. “Your dad must really love you.”
“He does,” Rosie said with a soft smile.
Mina grinned mischievously. “Okay, but, like, real talk—your dad’s hot. Does he have a girlfriend?”
Rosie burst into laughter, nearly choking on her smoothie. “Oh my God, Mina. No, he doesn’t have a girlfriend. I’ve tried to set him up before, but he refuses. He says he prefers casual dates every now and then.”
“Ugh, that’s such a waste,” Mina said dramatically, flopping back in her chair.
“He’s a grown man,” Rosie teased. “Let him live his life.”
The table erupted into laughter, the girls poking fun at Mina’s “crush” on Aizawa.
The girls made their way to the mall, their laughter filling the air as they browsed store after store. The energy was contagious, and Rosie found herself swept up in their excitement.
In the first store, Mina grabbed a bright yellow sundress and held it up against herself. “What do you think? Cute, right?”
“Very cute,” Rosie said, smiling. “You should try it on.”
After buying said dress, the girls moved to the next store that consisted of accessories. Asui picked out a few hair pieces, and Jirou zeroed in on a leather bracelet with tiny musical note charms. Meanwhile, Momo examined a display of delicate silver necklaces.
Next, they entered another clothing boutique, makeup store, and other stores.
The girls had separated to browse through the large store. She had bought a pink sweater with cute black bows all over it, black skinny jeans, and a new leather jacket. She even picked up some makeup, inspired by Mina’s endless enthusiasm. Rosie wandered over to a section with phone charms and spotted a dainty pink butterfly charm. It was exactly her style.
“You should get this!” Mina said, holding up a shimmering cherry flavored lip gloss.
Rosie laughed and nodded. “Okay, okay, I’ll try it.”
After several rounds of shopping, the girls’ hands were full of bags as they headed to the food court for lunch. They settled on a sushi restaurant, the table quickly filling with colorful rolls, sashimi, and bowls of miso soup.
“This looks amazing,” Rosie said, her eyes lighting up as she picked up her chopsticks.
As they ate, the conversation naturally turned to gossip, the girls animatedly sharing stories about their boyfriends.
“Kirishima surprised me with a spa certificate!” Mina exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. “He said I’ve been working too hard and deserve to relax. Isn’t he the best?”
Jirou smirked. “Sounds like he’s spoiling you.”
Mina tossed her hair with a playful grin. “He should! I’m worth it.” Then she turned to Asui. “How about you? How are things with Tokoyami?”
Asui sipped her tea before answering. “Great! He came over last night with my favorite ice cream after I got off work.”
Uraraka giggled, her cheeks turning pink. “You two might as well move in together at this point. He’s practically over every day.”
“Wait, do you and Tokoyami live together?” Rosie asked, looking between Asui and Uraraka.
“Not yet, but we’ve talked about it,” Asui replied with a small smile.
Uraraka nodded. “I moved in with Izuku not long after we graduated high school. It’s been amazing having him around all the time.”
Rosie couldn’t help but smile at the dreamy expressions on her friends’ faces. “You all have such sweet boyfriends.”
Mina leaned forward with a mischievous grin. “What about you, Momo?”
Momo quickly shook her head, a small laugh escaping her. “No boyfriend for me. I’m way too focused on school and work right now.”
“Don’t let her fool you,” Mina teased. “She’s had a thing for Todoroki for years.”
“I have not!” Momo protested, her face flushing pink. Quickly, she turned the attention away from herself. “What about you, Rosie?”
“Me?” Rosie blinked, caught off guard. “Oh, no boyfriend. Never had one.”
Mina gasped dramatically. “What? Never?”
Rosie shrugged. “I’ve gone on casual dates, but I’ve never had a boyfriend.”
“Okay, but what about a crush?” Asui asked, tilting her head curiously.
Rosie hesitated for a second, her cheeks warming. Her mind betrayed her, flashing to Katsuki—his sharp red eyes, the way his messy blonde hair fell across his face, and the gruff tone he used when speaking to her. She swallowed hard and forced herself to laugh. “Not really!” she said, a little too quickly.
The girls exchanged knowing looks, their smiles curving with playful suspicion.
Mina leaned closer, narrowing her eyes. “Are you sure about that? No secret crushes? No cute guys catching your eye at all?”
Rosie shook her head furiously, her face burning. “Nope, none.”
The girls burst into laughter, Mina giving her an exaggeratedly skeptical look. But thankfully, they didn’t push further, moving on to a debate about which sushi roll was the best.
Later that afternoon, Rosie hurried home, her arms full of shopping bags along with grocery bags of wine, food and snacks, her heart racing with excitement. Tonight was her first time hosting a sleepover with so many friends, and she wanted everything to be perfect.
Growing up she only had Akira as a friend. They had many sleepovers but never before did she had a sleepover this big and she was excited to say the least.
Her small apartment was cozy, but she’d made sure it was spotless. She laid out fluffy blankets and pillows in the living room, set up a table with the snacks and chilled the wine, and even made a playlist of fun songs to play in the background.
Maya, her tiny white poodle, followed her around curiously, her tail wagging as Rosie worked.
“Okay, Maya,” Rosie said, crouching down to pet her. “This has to be perfect. It’s my first real sleepover. Think they’ll like it?”
Maya barked in agreement, and Rosie laughed, giving her a quick hug.
By the time everything was ready, Rosie changed into soft pink and white pajama pants and a pink tank top, adding fuzzy socks for extra comfort. She glanced around the room, smiling with satisfaction.
When the doorbell rang, Rosie’s excitement bubbled over. She opened the door to find Mina, Momo, Asui, Jirou, and Uraraka, each holding bags filled with snacks, board games, and sleepover essentials.
“This place is adorable!” Mina exclaimed, stepping inside and spinning in a circle to take in the cozy decor.
“It’s so you,” Momo added with a warm smile.
“Thank you,” Rosie said, closing the door behind them. “My dad actually picked this place out for me when I moved here.”
“Well, he has amazing taste,” Uraraka chimed in, dropping her bag onto the kitchen table before wandering toward the small balcony. “This setup out here is so cute!”
The girls didn’t waste any time. Mina held up her bag. “Okay, first order of business—pajamas! Where can we change?”
Rosie laughed, pointing toward her bedroom. “You can use my room, and there’s a bathroom just down the hall.”
Mina, Momo, and Jirou darted toward the bedroom while Uraraka and Asui opted for the bathroom. Rosie took the opportunity to pull out extra pillows and blankets from her hall closet, her arms full as she carried them to the living room.
By the time she returned, the girls had already changed into their pajamas—Mina in a bright yellow set, Momo in a red silk shirt and matching short sets, Jirou in an oversized band tee and shorts, Uraraka in pastel blue, and Asui in a frog-print onesie. They were all sprawled out on the living room floor, completely captivated by Maya, Rosie’s tiny white poodle, who was wagging her tail excitedly at all the attention.
“She’s so precious!” Mina gushed, scratching Maya behind her ears.
“She’s so small and fluffy,” Jirou added, gently petting her. “I think I’m in love.”
Rosie laughed as she set the pillows down. “She’s eating this up, trust me. You’ve all officially become her new favorite people.”
As Maya soaked in the affection, Mina’s gaze drifted to Rosie’s hands. “Oh my gosh, your nails are always adorable! Did you do those yourself?”
Rosie glanced at her white nails with pink flower designs and nodded. “Yeah, my mom taught me how to do nail art when I was younger. She was really into it.”
“You have to do ours!” Uraraka exclaimed, her eyes lighting up.
“Please,” Momo added, holding up her plain nails. “I’d love something pretty like yours.”
Rosie grinned, feeling a mix of pride and excitement. “Okay, let me grab my kit.” She hurried to her bathroom and returned with a large case filled with nail polish, tools, and decorations in every color imaginable.
“Wow,” Jirou said, her eyes wide. “You could open a salon with all of this!”
Rosie laughed as she set the case down on the coffee table. “It’s my little collection. Let’s get started.”
The girls took turns, each picking their favorite colors and designs while Rosie painted their nails with precision and care. They marveled at the intricate details she added—flowers, frogs, and glitter accents.
As the night wore on, the living room transformed into the ultimate sleepover setting. Girly pop music played softly in the background, and the girls sipped wine from mismatched glasses Rosie had pulled out. The coffee table was piled high with snacks—chips, candy, pastries, and even a small plate of macarons Momo had brought.
Maya had curled up in her basket pillow bed in the corner, her tiny legs in the air as she snoozed, completely exhausted from all the attention.
“This is perfect,” Mina said, popping a chip into her mouth. “I needed a night like this.”
Rosie looked around at her friends, her heart full. “Me too,” she admitted.
“We should take some more photos to commemorate this!” Momo clapped her hands excitedly, her cheeks flushed from the wine.
“But I wanna dance,” Mina pouted, holding her half-empty glass as she swayed to the music.
“We could just do both,” Uraraka suggested, grinning as she set her phone down on the coffee table.
Jirou, smirking, grabbed the controllers for Rosie’s gaming console. “Why don’t we settle this with a dancing game? We can take photos after we show off our moves.”
The girls cheered at the idea. Rosie handed out the controllers, laughing as Mina insisted on picking the brightest, most chaotic song available. The virtual stage lit up on the screen, and the music pulsed through the speakers as they began their tipsy attempts at following the on-screen choreography.
Their movements were hilariously clumsy. Mina stumbled as she tried to spin, narrowly avoiding a collision with Momo, who was flailing her arms in an attempt to hit the right moves. Asui managed to keep her balance but barely followed the beat, giggling uncontrollably.
“Why is this so hard?” Uraraka whined, tripping over her own feet and collapsing onto the couch in laughter.
“It’s not hard; you’re just bad at it,” Jirou teased, though her own moves weren’t much better.
Rosie was no better off, her pink robe flying as she tried to keep up, only to burst out laughing when Mina grabbed her shoulders and started spinning her like a dance partner.
By the end of the song, they were all a mess—laughing so hard that tears rolled down their cheeks and the game declared none of them the winner.
“Okay, dancing’s not our strong suit,” Momo gasped, wiping her eyes. “Let’s do something else.”
Mina suddenly perked up. “Let’s bake a cake!”
Rosie blinked. “Bake a cake? Now?”
“Yes, now!” Mina declared, stumbling toward the kitchen. “We’re all amazing cooks. How hard could it be?”
“Terrible idea,” Jirou said with a grin, already following Mina. “Let’s do it.”
Rosie sighed, shaking her head but smiling as she trailed after them. “Alright, but don’t blame me if we set something on fire.”
The girls raided Rosie’s pantry and fridge, pulling out random ingredients. Flour ended up everywhere—on their hands, faces, and even in Maya’s fur when she padded in to investigate. Asui attempted to crack eggs but missed the bowl entirely, and Uraraka was tasked with mixing the batter only to spill half of it onto the counter.
“This doesn’t look right,” Momo said, squinting at the lumpy mixture.
“It’s fine! It’ll taste amazing,” Mina declared, adding way too much vanilla extract.
By the time they managed to shove the cake into the oven, the kitchen was a disaster zone, and they were all too tipsy to care. They collapsed back onto the couch, giggling uncontrollably as the smell of their questionable creation filled the apartment.
“I think we nailed it,” Mina said confidently, though no one was sober enough to check the oven.
At some point, the laughter and chaos faded as exhaustion set in. One by one, they passed out in a tangled pile of limbs across the living room. Momo curled up on the couch, hugging a pillow, while Mina sprawled on the floor, her arm draped over Jirou’s back. Uraraka and Asui were tangled together near Maya’s bed, and Rosie dozed off on the other end of the couch, her head tilted back against the cushions.
By the time the clock struck three a.m., the apartment was quiet except for the soft hum of the music still playing in the background and the faint smell of their forgotten cake now slightly overbaking in the oven. Maya, unbothered, snoozed peacefully in her basket, her little paws twitching in her sleep.
The scene was chaotic, messy, and utterly perfect—exactly what Rosie had dreamed her first sleepover in Japan would be.
Chapter 5: Sparky and Shitty Hair were right.
Chapter Text
The steady rhythm of Katsuki’s punches echoed through the empty gym, his breath coming in short, controlled bursts as his fists connected with the punching bag. He wasn’t sure how long he had been at it, but the frustration bubbling under his skin hadn’t subsided yet.
He growled under his breath, slamming another punch into the bag. Why the hell was he even thinking about this? About her?
It had started earlier that day. Class had let out early, and Kaminari and Kirishima had dragged him to their usual coffee shop. He hadn’t planned on going, but they wouldn’t shut up about needing caffeine to survive the rest of their day.
The moment they walked in, the familiar sound of chatter and clinking cups greeted them, but it was her—Rosie—who caught his attention. She was standing behind the counter, her pink hair tied back in a messy bun, her soft smile lighting up her face as she took someone’s order.
Katsuki had tried not to look at her. He really did. But it was impossible to ignore the way her short barista skirt hugged her figure, the way her long legs moved as she worked.
“Tch.” He delivered a sharp jab to the bag, shaking his head as if it would help clear the image from his mind.
It wasn’t just that she looked good—he could admit that much, at least to himself. It was the way she’d smiled so warmly at Shinsou, her coworker, as they exchanged a few quiet words behind the counter.
Shinsou. That guy.
Katsuki didn’t even know why it annoyed him so much. Shinsou wasn’t doing anything wrong. Hell, they were just talking. But the tight, irritated knot in Katsuki’s chest hadn’t gone away since.
Katsuki’s punches slowed, his breathing heavy as he leaned his forehead against the bag. He hated feeling this way—this weird mix of frustration and... something else he couldn’t put a name to.
Maybe it was because Rosie had barely noticed him when they walked in. She’d smiled at him, sure, but it was the same smile she gave every customer. Nothing special.
“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, stepping back from the bag and wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
What the hell was wrong with him? It wasn’t like he cared or anything. She is just... Rosie.
But the way her laugh echoed across the shop when Shinsou was talking about his roomate, the way her cheeks turned pink when she smiled at him—it wouldn’t leave his head.
He grabbed his water bottle, taking a long drink before slamming it back onto the bench. Maybe he was just pissed because he wasn’t used to not being the center of attention.
Yeah, that had to be it.
But deep down, Katsuki knew that wasn’t the truth. And that only made him punch the bag harder.
Katsuki tightened the towel around his waist as he stepped out of the steaming bathroom, droplets of water still clinging to his skin. His damp blonde hair stuck to his forehead, and he pushed it back with one hand, letting out a low grunt. The shower had done little to clear his mind, but he’d hoped it would at least help him stop thinking about her.
Pulling on a plain black tank top and gray sweatpants, Katsuki shook his head, as if the motion would rid him of the lingering images from the night before. He moved into the kitchen, opening the fridge to rummage for something to eat. His stomach growled, a harsh reminder that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
As he slapped together a quick sandwich, his thoughts drifted back to that extra shift he’d taken last night. He hadn’t expected much—just another routine delivery to make some extra cash. But when he looked at the address and saw her name on the ticket, his heart had skipped in a way that pissed him off.
Not only did he now know where she lived, but he also knew her favorite pizza. And when he’d walked up to her door, bag in hand, and rang the bell, the last thing he expected was for her to answer the door looking like that.
She’d stood there in a black silk robe, her hair wrapped in a fluffy pink towel, and a large glass of wine cradled in her hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her toes, painted white with delicate pink designs, she leaned casually against the doorframe, smiling at him.
He groaned, the sound low and irritated, as he smacked a hand against the counter. “Damn it.”
Why the hell did she have to look like that? Why did she have to smell like that—soft and sweet, like some kind of expensive perfume that lingered in the air long after she moved past him? He hated how she could so easily throw him off his game, make him feel like some awkward schoolboy with a stupid fascination.
She wasn’t supposed to get under his skin like this. She wasn’t supposed to make him notice the way her hips swayed when she walked in just that black silk robe, how her silk robe clung to her body or how delicious she smelled or the way her laugh sounded when she joked about something stupid.
But she did.
And it pissed him off.
“Who the hell is this girl?” Katsuki said aloud, slamming the fridge door shut and leaning against the counter. He took a bite of his sandwich, chewing angrily as if the act of eating would somehow distract him. But it didn’t work.
Nothing seemed to work when it came to her. And for the first time in a long time, Katsuki felt like he didn’t have all the answers.
And her apartment. God, her apartment. Katsuki had followed her inside—reluctantly, of course—when she’d invited him in so she could grab her wallet. He hadn’t wanted to look around, but his eyes had wandered anyway. Pink, white, and silver dominated the space, from the fluffy throw pillows on her couch to the delicate little trinkets on her shelves. It was exactly what he’d expected and somehow still managed to catch him off guard.
Then there was the dog. That tiny, white fluffball that ran right up to him, wagging its tail like it hadn’t just met him five seconds ago. He’d scowled at it, but he couldn’t stop himself from giving the damn thing a quick pat on the head.
And Rosie—damn Rosie—had smiled at him so easily, like it was the most natural thing in the world to invite him into her life. She’d even called him her friend.
“Friend,” he muttered under his breath, his grip tightening around the sandwich in his hand. “Who the hell is she kidding?”
Katsuki was heading to the kitchen, rolling his shoulders after hours of grinding through assignments. His stomach growled loudly, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since that half-assed sandwich earlier. He opened the fridge, grabbed a pack of chicken, and started prepping a pan for cooking when the door to his apartment flew open.
Before he could even process it, Kaminari, Kirishima, Deku, and Icy Hot strolled in like they owned the place, each carrying bags.
Katsuki froze, glaring at them. “What the hell are you idiots doing here?”
Kaminari grinned, holding up a bag of snacks like it was a peace offering. “Surprise, Bakubro! Sleepover time!”
Katsuki’s eye twitched. “How the hell did you get in here?”
Deku adjusted the strap of his bag, glancing around sheepishly. “Uh, your door was unlocked.”
Katsuki’s scowl deepened as he thought back to earlier. He’d been so distracted after coming home from the gym—still too pissed about not being able to stop thinking about her—that he’d completely forgotten to lock the damn door. He clenched his fists, biting back a curse.
“And you thought just walking in was a good idea?” he snapped, voice sharp enough to make Kaminari wince.
Kirishima, entirely unfazed, dropped his bag with a thud and vaulted over Katsuki’s couch, sprawling out with a contented sigh. “Well, all of our girlfriends—except Shoto—are having a sleepover at Rosie’s. So we figured, why not have a guy’s night here?”
Katsuki stared at him, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and barely restrained rage. “You couldn’t go to one of your own apartments?”
Kirishima shrugged. “Your place is the biggest, dude. Plus, you’ve got the best couch.”
Katsuki growled, crossing his arms as his scowl darkened. “I was about to make dinner, and now I have to deal with you dumbasses?”
“Don’t worry, Bakugou, we’ve got it covered!” Kaminari piped up cheerfully, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I already ordered pizza for all of us. Should be here any minute.”
Katsuki’s jaw tightened. “You ordered pizza? Without asking me?”
“You’re welcome,” Kaminari said with a grin, completely ignoring the seething aura coming off Katsuki. “Don’t worry I paid.”
Icy Hot, who had been silent until now, set his bag down near the door and glanced around. “You should really remember to lock your door, Bakugou. It’s not safe.”
“I know that,” Katsuki barked, running a hand through his damp hair. “Just shut up and stay out of my way.”
The group paid no attention to his protests, spreading out across his apartment as if they’d been invited. Deku grabbed a seat at the kitchen table, already setting up some kind of board game, while Kaminari pulled out a speaker and started connecting it to his phone.
He shouldn’t be surprised. They had been pulling this shit since they all first met when they were all fifteen. Then when he got his own apartment right after graduation, they all just came over unannounced and would crash at his place.
Katsuki stared at the chaos unfolding in his apartment, feeling his temper rise by the second. He muttered under his breath, “This is gonna be a long-ass night.”
The guys were crammed around Katsuki’s dining table, pizzas in front of them, their individual toppings showcasing their wildly different tastes. Kaminari was scarfing down a pepperoni and jalapeño combo, while Kirishima’s pizza was piled with meat. Deku had gone with a veggie option, and Shoto silently ate his plain cheese slice with the same cool demeanor he approached most things. Katsuki, meanwhile, ate his spicy sausage pizza with a glare aimed at the board game sprawled across the table.
"HA!" Deku shouted triumphantly, slapping his piece down. "I win again!"
Kaminari groaned, tossing his cards onto the table. “This game is rigged! Deku’s secretly a genius at everything!”
Kirishima laughed, clapping Deku on the back. “You’re just mad you suck at strategy games, bro.”
Katsuki slammed his fist on the table, making the beer bottles rattle. “This is bullshit. We’re not playing this stupid game anymore. Move your asses to the living room—we’re playing something real.”
Kaminari perked up. “Oh, video games? I’m in!”
Everyone shuffled to the living room. Katsuki stomped off to grab pajamas. Soon, everyone was lounging in their PJs—Kirishima in plaid flannel, Kaminari in mismatched sweatpants, and Deku in some hero-themed set that Katsuki glared at for too long. Shoto, of course, wore plain black.
The coffee table was quickly buried in empty beer bottles and discarded pizza crusts as Katsuki handed out controllers. He loaded up a zombie-shooter game, the screen flashing with grotesque undead hordes and explosions.
“Don’t fall behind, losers,” Katsuki growled as the game started.
Music blasted through the apartment as the guys dove into the game. Kaminari yelled as a zombie lunged at him on-screen. “Help, help! I’m gonna die!”
“Get it together, Sparky!” Katsuki barked, mowing down the horde with a grenade launcher.
Kirishima laughed, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “This is awesome! We should do this more often.”
As the game raged on, the conversation drifted to their girlfriends.
“Jirou’s been working on a new song,” Kaminari said between button mashes. “She played me a demo yesterday. It’s amazing.”
“Did you tell her that?” Kirishima asked, smirking.
“Of course!” Kaminari grinned. “I even got her flowers. Romantic, right?”
Kirishima snorted. “You’re whipped, man. But I get it. Mina’s been trying to teach me how to dance. I suck, but she’s so into it, I can’t say no.”
Deku chimed in, his cheeks pink. “Uraraka’s been so busy with work lately, but she still makes time for movie nights. She even made me this bento the other day—she’s amazing.”
Shoto stayed quiet, his focus entirely on the screen. Katsuki, too, didn’t say a word, though his scowl deepened at every mention of sweet gestures and thoughtful girlfriends.
“What about you two?” Kaminari asked, glancing at Shoto and Katsuki.
Shoto shrugged. “Nothing to report.”
Katsuki grunted. “Shut up and focus on the game. You’re about to die again, idiot.”
The guys laughed, though Kaminari’s character did, indeed, get swarmed and eaten by zombies. The game continued into the night, the apartment filled with shouts, laughter, and the occasional argument over who stole whose kill. The popcorn was everywhere, the music was too loud, and Katsuki’s scowl barely let up as he competed with Todoroki and Deku for most zombie kills.
It was just past two in the morning when Katsuki’s phone started dinging incessantly along with the others’. The rapid notifications made him growl in frustration, but he paused the game long enough to snatch his phone from the coffee table.
It was the class group chat.
Sliding open the notification, his screen filled with images. His stomach did an odd flip as he realized they were from the girls’ sleepover.
Kirishima leaned back against the couch, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he scrolled through the pictures. “The girls sent photos of their sleepover. Damn, Mina looks gorgeous.”
Katsuki ignored him, focusing on the first photo that loaded. It was a group shot of the girls at the beginning of the night, all posed on a fluffy pink rug in Rosie’s living room. He barely glanced at the others—his eyes locked on Rosie. She was dead center, a soft smile on her face as she held a wine glass in one hand and her dog, Maya, in the other. Her pink and white plaid pants and matching tank top hugged her frame, and her pink hair was tied up loosely with a hair stick.
The next photo popped up as he swiped. Rosie was mid-laugh, a glass of wine still in her hand, and Maya sprawled on her lap. Her cheeks were pinker now, a faint flush from the alcohol creeping in. Katsuki’s brow furrowed as he stared at the way her nose scrunched when she laughed.
He swiped again. This time, Rosie was caught in a candid shot, her side profile illuminated as she concentrated on painting Mina’s nails. Her movements were careful, her posture relaxed. Mina’s hand was splayed out on the coffee table, and Rosie’s tongue peeked out slightly in focus. The soft lighting of the room highlighted her smooth skin and delicate features, making Katsuki swallow hard.
Another swipe, and his lips twitched despite himself. Rosie was sitting on the floor, a slice of chocolate cake in her hands. There was a smudge of chocolate frosting on her nose, and she was trying—and failing—to hide her face behind her plate as Momo laughed beside her. Her flushed cheeks and embarrassed grin made something tighten in Katsuki’s chest.
The next photo had him huffing out a short laugh. Rosie was apparently losing terribly at some board game. She sat cross-legged on the floor, her expression an exaggerated pout as Tsuyu cheered in the background, clearly the victor. Her messy pile of fake money spilled around her as she held up an empty wallet.
Another photo came up, and Katsuki’s grip on his phone tightened. Rosie was sitting on the floor again, her back to the camera this time. Uraraka was braiding her hair while Rosie sipped more wine. Her loose posture and the way she swayed slightly told him she was tipsy, if not outright drunk.
The group photo after that showed all the girls with their flushed faces pressed together, glasses of wine raised in toast. Rosie was beaming, her smile wider than he’d ever seen. Katsuki stared at it a beat too long before swiping to the next one.
This time, it was chaos. Rosie was covered in flour, her hair sticking out of its braid as she stood in the middle of a disaster zone that was supposed to be her kitchen. She had a sheepish grin, and Maya was at her feet, licking up what looked like frosting from the floor.
The final notification was a video. Katsuki hesitated, his thumb hovering over the play button before he gave in. The screen filled with the girls attempting to play a virtual dancing game. They stumbled over their own feet, laughing hysterically as they failed spectacularly to hit the right moves. His eyes, however, were glued to Rosie.
She was in the center again, swaying her hips to the music, her movements more fluid than the others despite her drunken state. Her tank top rose slightly as she spun, revealing a sliver of skin that Katsuki couldn’t stop staring at. His jaw clenched, and he quickly exited the video, his face hot.
Without thinking, he saved the photos and video-only the ones that contained her–to his camera roll, his thumb moving faster than his brain could keep up with. He tossed his phone onto the couch with a growl, grabbing his beer and taking a long swig.
What the hell was wrong with him? Why the hell was he so damn focused on her?
The irritation churned in Katsuki's chest, but as he leaned back and stared at the ceiling, the image of Rosie’s flushed smile lingered stubbornly in his mind. No matter how much he tried to shove it aside, it clung to him like a damn sticky note he couldn’t peel off.
His scowl deepened when Kaminari broke the silence, his tone deliberately casual. “Rosie is cute,” he said, offhandedly, though his smirk betrayed his true intent. Kaminari’s eyes slid toward Katsuki, full of mischief. “Wonder if she has a boyfriend.”
Katsuki’s grip on the controller tightened. He bit back the sharp retort clawing its way up his throat and forced his gaze onto the paused screen. He wasn’t about to take the bait.
“Yo, Todoroki,” Kirishima chimed in, his grin too wide and too obvious for Katsuki’s liking. “Do you think Rosie is attractive?”
Katsuki subtly glanced at Todoroki, waiting for his response with a growing sense of annoyance. The half-and-half bastard tilted his head slightly, his face as unreadable as ever. “She is,” Todoroki said in his usual monotone, “but I don’t understand why that matters.”
Of course, the Icy Hot bastard was still as clueless as ever when it came to anything remotely personal. Katsuki huffed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
Kaminari snorted, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Wouldn’t you like to have a girlfriend, Todoroki? Maybe someone cute like Rosie?”
Todoroki blinked at him, his expression blank. “I don’t see how her being cute is relevant to whether or not I’d want a girlfriend.”
Kaminari burst out laughing, slapping his thigh. “Man, you’re hopeless!”
Katsuki’s patience was hanging by a thread. He could see exactly what these idiots were trying to do, and it was pissing him off. Kirishima and Kaminari were grinning like they’d just stumbled onto the greatest joke of the century, and Katsuki wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction of reacting.
Meanwhile, Deku sat at the far end of the couch, completely absorbed in his phone. The faint smile on his face told Katsuki everything he needed to know. The damn nerd was probably texting his girlfriend, too wrapped up in his perfect little world to pay attention to the rest of them.
“Would you date her, Bakubro?” Kaminari’s question snapped Katsuki’s attention back to the table.
His crimson eyes narrowed dangerously, and his lips curled into a sneer. “What the hell kind of stupid question is that?”
Kirishima leaned back, his hands raised in mock surrender. “Come on, man. We’re just curious. You two talk sometimes, right?”
Katsuki scoffed, his jaw tightening. “So what?”
Kaminari wiggled his eyebrows. “So, maybe you’ve got a thing for her.”
The tension in the room shifted. Katsuki could feel all their eyes on him now, even Todoroki’s. His grip on the controller turned his knuckles white, but he refused to give them anything.
“You’re all idiots,” he growled, standing abruptly. “I’m not interested in getting my ass kicked by Aizawa.” He stalked toward the kitchen, needing the space to calm the storm brewing in his chest.
Behind him, Kaminari snickered. “Man, he’s totally into her.”
Kirishima’s voice followed, lower but still audible. “Think so? I mean, he didn’t deny it.”
Deku finally popped into the conversation, “he has a point though. Imagine dating Mr. Aizawa’s daughter.”
Kaminari shivered, “scary.”
Katsuki grit his teeth, slamming the fridge door open. Idiots, the lot of them. But as much as he wanted to dismiss their words entirely, the image of Rosie’s flushed smile crept back into his mind, uninvited and unwelcome.
“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, pulling out a cold beer.
The soft hum of the city outside his window barely registered as Katsuki collapsed onto his bed, letting out a frustrated sigh. The apartment was finally quiet, save for the occasional snore from Kirishima in the living room. After turning off all the lights and ensuring the idiots wouldn’t set anything on fire, he’d retreated to his room, desperate for peace.
As he rolled onto his back, his hand instinctively reached for his phone on the nightstand. He didn’t even realize what he was doing until the screen lit up, and there she was again. Rosie.
The photo filled the screen, her flushed face and shy smile tugging at something deep in his chest. Her white fluffy dog sat contentedly in her lap, its wagging tail blurred in motion. She looked so damn soft, so unguarded. It was different from how he saw her at the coffee shop, where she was all polite smiles and quick movements, juggling orders and dealing with annoying customers. Here, in this snapshot, she looked happy. Relaxed. Real.
“Damn it,” he muttered, clenching his jaw as he stared at the photo longer than he intended. He told himself it was just curiosity. Maybe he was trying to figure out why this one image had rooted itself so firmly in his brain. But the truth gnawed at him, undeniable and infuriating.
He shouldn’t care. Hell, he barely knew her outside of their brief interactions. And yet, there he was, in his bed, staring at a photo of her like some lovesick idiot.
Katsuki groaned and dragged a hand down his face, trying to shake the image from his mind. But the harder he tried, the more vivid she became. Her long legs in that stupid barista uniform, her effortless laugh when Kaminari made a joke, the way her hair fell loose around her shoulders when she wasn’t tying it up for work.
Kaminari’s voice echoed in his head from earlier: “Man, he’s totally into her.”
He scowled, gripping his phone tighter. “Idiots,” he muttered under his breath. But no amount of denial could drown out the uncomfortable truth clawing its way to the surface.
They were right. Sparky and Shitty Hair were right.
The realization hit him like a punch to the gut, and he hated it. He hated how much space she’d taken up in his head without him even noticing. How her smile lingered in his thoughts longer than it had any right to. How even now, he couldn’t bring himself to look away from the damn photo.
“Shit,” he growled, tossing his phone onto the mattress beside him and rubbing at his temples. Was it just her, or was this his body’s way of telling him he needed to get laid? Maybe that was it. He was stressed, wounded too tight, and she just happened to be there at the wrong time, catching his attention when he was vulnerable or whatever.
But even as he tried to rationalize it, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t just about needing some release. This was different, and that pissed him off even more.
Rolling onto his side, Katsuki yanked his blanket over his head, determined to block out everything—the photo, her laugh, the way her hips swayed when she walked. But even in the darkness, the image of her refused to fade.
“Damn it,” he muttered again, his voice muffled by the pillow. Tomorrow, he decided. Tomorrow, he’d focus on training, school, anything to get her out of his head.
Because if he didn’t, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this.
Notes:
please drop a kudos or give me your thoughts💕
Chapter 6: Annoying but Pretty
Notes:
It's taking everything in me to not post the ten chapters I already have written for this fic, ahhh anyway, enjoy!
Chapter Text
The rhythmic hum of the washing machine filled Katsuki’s small laundry room as he stood against the wall, scrolling through his phone. His gym clothes tumbled inside, the occasional clink of a zipper breaking the monotony. He hadn’t expected his Saturday to be this boring, but here he was, doing chores and ignoring the world.
A buzz in his hand drew his attention. He glanced down at the screen, his brow furrowing.
Unknown Number.
For a second, he considered ignoring it, but curiosity got the better of him. Opening the message, his eyes skimmed the words, his scowl softening into something resembling confusion.
Unknown: Hey! It’s Rosie. Kaminari gave me your number—hope that’s okay! :)
His thumb hovered over the keyboard. Why the hell had Kaminari given her his number? He couldn’t decide if he was pissed or intrigued.
Katsuki: What do you want?
The reply came almost instantly: Geez, grumpy much? I was going to see if you were available today.
Katsuki scoffed, running a hand through his hair. What the hell was this girl playing at? He typed back, his irritation bleeding into his words:
Katsuki: Depends.
Her reply was so fast it almost made him laugh: Nothing crazy, I promise! I just need help with my chemistry homework.
Katsuki stared at the screen, his annoyance slowly melting into something he didn’t want to name.
Katsuki: I’m free after 4
Her response came with a smiley emoji: Perfect! I’ll see you at 5 then. Don’t be late!
He grumbled under his breath, shaking his head as he stared at the screen. Without thinking, he saved her number, pausing when it came to the name field. His fingers hovered before he typed: Annoying but Pretty.
Satisfied, Katsuki shoved his phone into his pocket and glanced at the clock on the wall. Three o’clock.
“Shit,” he muttered, realizing he had less time than he thought.
He stared at the pile of clean clothes on the counter, his mind already racing. What the hell was he supposed to wear to something like this? He didn’t want to overthink it, but he also didn’t want to look like he’d just rolled out of bed.
And then there was the question of whether or not to shower. He hadn’t done anything particularly strenuous today, but he did smell of beer, pizza and popcorn from last night.
Katsuki groaned, rubbing the back of his neck as he debated. Why was he even putting this much effort into meeting her? She is just… Rosie. The same girl who annoyed the hell out of him at every turn and yet somehow had wormed her way into his head.
“Whatever,” he muttered, heading for the bathroom. A quick shower couldn’t hurt.
Katsuki never thought he'd find himself sitting in Ishlamare on a Saturday afternoon, let alone across from Rosie, surrounded by textbooks, laptops, and stacks of paper.
His hair was still damp from his shower, he had decided to wear gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt with an open jean jacket with a hoodie. He spent a good amount of time trying to choose something comfortable while also attempting to look as though he cared about his appearance but not her opinion.
The cozy café buzzed with low conversation and the occasional clang of dishes, but Katsuki barely registered it. His focus kept drifting back to the girl sitting across from him.
Rosie was chewing on her pen, the pink fur at the top swaying slightly as she tapped it against her lip. The damn thing looked ridiculous—decorated with little white dogs on the side—but somehow, it suited her. Her hair was pulled into a half bun, with a few loose strands framing her face, and she wore black leather shorts paired with an oversized pink sweater that slouched off one shoulder. Her leather boots reached her knees, polished and catching the light every time she shifted.
Katsuki’s eyes lingered longer than they should have. The way she scrunched her nose when she concentrated, the subtle bounce of her knee under the table as she worked—everything about her radiated a chaotic energy.
He snapped out of it, scowling as he took a sip of his black coffee. The bitterness grounded him, pulling his attention back to his own homework. He wasn’t here to admire her like some love-struck idiot. He was here to get work done—and, apparently, to make sure Rosie didn’t bomb her chemistry assignment.
She had mentioned, in her usual sunny tone, that she’d tried all week to finish the two-page worksheet on her phone but couldn’t manage it. It was due Monday, and she had been panicking about it enough to text him for help. Against his better judgment, he’d agreed, figuring he could get some of his own work done at the same time.
Katsuki worked quietly, his pen scratching against the paper as he powered through equations. He glanced up now and then, catching Rosie staring at her laptop screen with a mix of determination and frustration. When she sighed and muttered something under her breath, he couldn’t help but smirk.
After a while, Rosie set her pen down and leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms over her head. The motion made her sweater ride up slightly, revealing a sliver of skin above her shorts. Katsuki looked away, his jaw tightening as he focused intently on his notes.
“I think I did it,” she announced, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Katsuki glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “You think?”
She slid her paper across the table to him, her cheeks slightly pink. “Well, you said to follow the example you did. I… did my best.”
He picked up the paper, scanning it critically. Her handwriting was neat, bubbly, and full of little doodles in the margins—he rolled his eyes at the tiny hearts she’d drawn next to the numbers. Still, her work wasn’t half bad.
“You’re close,” he muttered, grabbing his pen. He circled the couple of small errors in one of her equations before sliding the paper back. “Fix those, and it’s solid.”
Rosie leaned forward, her face lighting up with relief. “Really? I didn’t totally screw it up?”
Katsuki snorted, taking another sip of his coffee. “Not this time.”
She stuck her tongue out at him playfully before grabbing her pen to correct the mistake. Katsuki shook his head, his lips twitching into a faint smirk despite himself. As much as she drove him insane, he couldn’t deny that there was something oddly satisfying about watching her succeed—especially when he was the one who helped her get there.
That was until he showed up.
Katsuki spotted Shinso the moment he walked onto the second floor of Ishlamare, the guy’s easy going demeanor and slouched posture making him stand out. To Katsuki’s growing irritation, Shinso’s gaze landed on their table almost immediately, and he started walking over—his focus locked on Rosie.
The subtle glance Shinso spared Katsuki as he approached wasn’t missed, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy him, either. If anything, it stoked the fire already brewing in Katsuki’s chest.
“Hey, Rosie,” Shinso greeted, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile that made Katsuki grip his pen tighter. “Didn’t think I’d see you today.”
Rosie looked up, startled at first, but then her face lit up with a smile that Katsuki couldn’t help but notice looked a little too bright. “Oh, hey, Shinso!” she chirped. “Katsuki’s helping me with my chem homework.”
Katsuki didn’t bother to look up. Instead, he clenched his jaw and drained the rest of his coffee, setting the empty mug on the table with a bit more force than necessary. Maybe if he acted busy enough, Shinso would get the hint and leave.
Shinso turned his attention to Katsuki briefly, his eyes narrowing slightly before flicking back to Rosie. “Didn’t think you two were friends,” he said casually, though Katsuki thought he caught a slight edge in his tone.
Rosie frowned, her expression tinged with confusion. “Why wouldn’t we be?” she asked, her voice holding an innocent challenge.
For a moment, Katsuki’s irritation shifted, replaced by something smug and twisted into his scowl. He had been annoyed by her calling him her friend a couple of days ago, but now? Now he was more than happy for her to call him that—just to rub it in Shinso’s face.
His smirk almost broke through, but he shoved it down, focusing back on his own homework instead. He told himself the satisfaction was because Shinso was slowing them down and wasting time—nothing else. He definitely wasn’t bothered by the way Shinso smiled at Rosie, or how she smiled back at him. Not even a little.
Shinso didn’t seem to get the hint, though. He lingered, leaning slightly against the edge of the table as he chatted with Rosie. “How’s the chem assignment going?” he asked, his tone casual but with a little too much interest for Katsuki’s liking.
Rosie sighed dramatically, resting her chin in her hand. “It’s tough, but Katsuki’s been helping a lot. He’s really good at explaining stuff!”
Katsuki grunted, his pen scratching harder against the paper as he worked through a problem. Damn right, I’m good at explaining stuff.
“That’s cool of you, man,” Shinso said, glancing at Katsuki. “Didn’t know you had the patience for tutoring.”
Katsuki finally looked up, fixing Shinso with a sharp glare. “I don’t,” he said flatly. “She just doesn’t want to fail, and I don’t have time for dumb questions.”
Rosie pouted at him, her bottom lip sticking out slightly. “Hey! My questions aren’t dumb!”
He ignored her, though the corner of his mouth twitched at her reaction. “If you’re done chatting,” Katsuki said pointedly, looking back at Shinso, “she still has work to finish. So do I.”
Shinso raised his hands in mock surrender, though his smile didn’t waver. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you two to it.” He turned to Rosie, his voice softening. “Good luck with your homework. I’ll text you later, yeah?”
Rosie beamed at him. “Okay!”
As Shinso walked away, Katsuki’s eyes followed him for a moment, the tension in his jaw refusing to ease. He didn’t hate the guy, but something about him grated on Katsuki’s nerves. Maybe it was the way he smiled too much. Or how Rosie smiled back.
Or maybe, Katsuki thought as he refocused on his notes, I needed to get laid.
It had just hit seven when Rosie finally finished her homework, the last question scribbled onto her paper with a triumphant sigh. Katsuki, already done with his work, had spent the past half hour nursing his coffee and leaning back in the booth, watching her out of the corner of his eye.
As they packed up their things, his gaze strayed—completely unintentionally, of course—to her as she reached for her bag. Damn it, that pervert Mineta had been right about one thing: Rosie had a nice ass.
Katsuki bit the inside of his cheek and forced himself to look away, shaking his head to banish the thought. What the hell is wrong with me?
They stepped out of the coffee shop into the cool evening air. The streets were quieter now, bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun. The sky was painted in streaks of pink, orange, and red, the kind of view people wrote poetry about.
Rosie paused, her eyes lifting to the sky as she hugged her notebook to her chest. “Sunsets in Japan are so beautiful,” she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of awe.
Katsuki made a noncommittal noise, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets as he stared straight ahead. He wasn’t about to start waxing poetic about the sky, but he’d admit—silently—that it didn’t look half bad.
Before he could think of something dismissive to say, Rosie turned to him. Her expression was earnest, and before he could brace himself, she closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug.
“Thank you, Katsuki,” she murmured against his chest. “For helping me with my chemistry homework. I don’t think I could’ve done it without you.”
He froze, every muscle in his body locking up as his brain tried to process what was happening. The scent of her perfume filled his senses, making it impossible to focus. Her arms around him were warm, and for a split second, he thought about moving his hands out of his pockets to—
Before he could make a decision, she pulled away, leaving him standing there like an idiot.
Rosie gave him a shy smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I owe you one. See you around, Katsuki.”
With that, she turned and started walking away, her bag slung over her shoulder.
Katsuki stood rooted to the spot, staring after her as his brain completely short-circuited. What the hell just happened? His heart was pounding in his chest, and he couldn’t decide if it was from the hug, her smile, or the lingering scent of her perfume.
Damn it, he thought, dragging a hand through his hair as he watched her figure disappear down the street. I’m so screwed.
Monday morning came with Aizawa back in the classroom, looking less like death and more like his usual apathetic self. The clock had barely hit seven a.m., but the room was already buzzing with low chatter as everyone settled into their seats. Katsuki sat in his usual spot, leaning back in his chair with a cup of his regular black coffee in hand.
He stared at the door, his eyes narrowing as the seconds ticked by. Everyone was here—except for one person.
Rosie hadn’t walked in yet.
Katsuki didn’t notice at first how his gaze kept flickering toward the entrance, waiting for her to breeze through with that usual bright smile. She always walked in around now, always with a coffee in hand. But the longer the door remained closed, the more his jaw tightened.
“What’s got you all tense, Bakugou?” Kaminari asked, leaning over his desk with a smirk. “You look like someone just told you that you have a lame quirk”
“Shut up,” Katsuki snapped, turning his glare on him for good measure.
“Hey, have you noticed Rosie isn’t here yet?” Kirishima chimed in, resting his chin on his fist. “That’s not like her. She’s never late.”
Katsuki grunted, sipping his coffee as if it didn’t bother him. But it did. It irritated him more than he cared to admit. Rosie was annoyingly punctual—always on time, always cheerful. The empty seat in front of him felt out of place, and for some reason, that made him feel… off.
“Maybe she’s sick,” Kirishima mused aloud. “Or maybe she had some kind of emergency? I hope she’s okay.”
Katsuki didn’t respond. He forced himself to look away from the door and down at his notes, pretending to focus on them. His hand gripped his pen tighter than necessary, the faint disappointment sitting in his chest pissing him off. Why the hell did it matter if she wasn’t here?
“Yeah, maybe,” Kaminari added, scrolling through his phone. “She hasn’t posted anything either. That’s weird for her.”
Katsuki ignored them, flipping a page in his notebook even though he hadn’t read a damn word. The room felt heavier, quieter, as if her absence sucked out some of the usual energy. It was stupid—completely stupid—to care. But he couldn’t shake the nagging thought: Where the hell was Rosie?
He took another sip of his coffee, swallowing down the irritation and the stupid, unspoken disappointment. It wasn’t like he was going to ask. No way. He’d figure it out on his own—if he even cared enough to bother.
But deep down, as the clock ticked forward and the door remained shut, he couldn’t lie to himself. He did care.
As soon as class ended, Katsuki shoved his notebook and textbooks into his backpack, the edge of his frustration fueling his every movement. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he pulled out his phone, debating for half a second before quickly typing out a message.
Katsuki: Where the hell are you?
He didn’t expect an immediate reply—hell, he didn’t even expect a reply before the next class. But as soon as he shoved his phone into the pocket of his jeans, it buzzed. Frowning, he pulled it back out and blinked at the screen.
Annoying but Pretty: Awe, miss me?
A snort escaped him, and the corner of his mouth twitched before he quickly schooled his expression. Of course, she’d send something ridiculous like that.
Katsuki: Kirishima kept whining about your absence during class. Hard to ignore.
It wasn’t even entirely a lie. Kirishima had brought her up multiple times, but the truth was, he’d been the one distracted by her empty seat.
Her response came quickly again, the little typing bubbles barely disappearing before her next message arrived.
Annoying but Pretty: I worked late last night. Two people called in sick, so I had to cover both their shifts. I didn’t get home until 3, so Dad insisted I sleep in.
He frowned, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. She’d been out that late by herself? It wasn’t like she couldn’t handle herself—Rosie wasn’t some helpless damsel—but the thought of her walking home at that hour made his jaw tighten. Before he could decide what to say, the faintest trace of her perfume hit his nose.
Startled, Katsuki’s head snapped up, his phone almost slipping from his hand.
There she was, standing right in front of him, tilting toward him slightly with that stupid, bright smile that never failed to catch him off guard.
“Good morning, Katsuki!” she chirped, her voice as warm as the sunbeam filtering through the hallway window.
It had been years since anyone had managed to sneak up on him like that, and it irritated him—though he wasn’t sure if it was because she’d done it or because he’d let it happen.
He pocketed his phone slowly, taking a second to take her in. “What the hell? Aren’t you supposed to be home?”
She shrugged, the motion casual and easy as if she hadn’t just ambushed him in broad daylight. “I still have my chemistry class today. Can’t miss it.”
As she spoke, her phone buzzed in her hand, and she glanced down before her face lit up even more. “Oh, it’s Dad.”
She answered without hesitation, her voice softening as she greeted him. “Hi, Dad. Yeah, I just got to campus.”
Katsuki said nothing, watching her as she shifted her weight onto one foot, her oversized white sweater slipping slightly off one shoulder. She’d paired it with high-waisted black jeans that hugged her legs perfectly and white flats that looked more stylish than functional. She always looked put-together, even after claiming she’d worked late. How the hell did she manage that?
“No, I ran into Katsuki just now,” she continued into the phone, her tone playful. “He was asking why I wasn’t in class earlier. Yeah, I’m planning on getting some lunch before my chemistry class, don’t worry. I’ll see you for dinner later, though, before my shift.”
Her casual mention of dinner with Aizawa made something in his chest twist—though he couldn’t tell if it was amusement or annoyance. Aizawa was probably the only person on Earth Rosie couldn’t steamroll with her energy.
As she hung up, she turned back to him, tucking her phone into her bag. “Anyway, I should go grab lunch before class starts. Thanks again for helping me on Saturday!” She waved cheerfully, already stepping away before he could respond.
He stood there, watching her retreating figure, his brain half-frozen. It took a second for him to realize his hands were clenched into fists at his sides. She’d left him standing there, completely blindsided, for the second time in a matter of days.
“Damn it,” Katsuki muttered under his breath, then, louder, “Yo, idiot!”
Rosie immediately stopped in her tracks, turning back to face him with her head tilted and a confused expression that only made her look more innocent. “Yes, Katsuki?”
He shoved his hands into his pockets, feigning nonchalance. “I’m grabbing lunch too.”
Her face lit up instantly, that same beam that made something in his chest twist uncomfortably. “Would you like to eat together?”
He blinked, caught off guard by how easily she asked, as if the answer were obvious. “Yeah… sure.”
Her smile somehow grew even brighter. “Great! You pick this time since I picked last time.”
He shrugged, trying to appear unaffected. “Fine. I know a place.”
Falling into step beside him, Rosie matched his pace, her bag swinging gently with each stride. After a beat of silence, she glanced up at him curiously. “Where’s Kirishima? Isn’t he usually your lunch buddy?”
“Tch.” Katsuki rolled his eyes, not sure why that annoyed him. “He’s grabbing lunch with his girlfriend this week.”
Rosie smiled at that, the kind of smile that wasn’t just polite but genuine. “Oh, that’s sweet. The girls are doing the same thing, actually. Guess that means we’re lunch buddies this week!”
He snorted, shaking his head. “What are you, five? Who says ‘lunch buddies’?”
She laughed softly, the sound light and warm, like the jingling of tiny bells. “What would you call it, then?”
“Eating with whoever’s around,” he muttered, though the edges of his mouth quirked upward despite himself.
She didn’t seem the least bit deterred, nodding as if she’d gotten exactly what she wanted. “Well, whatever you want to call it, I’m glad I get to eat with you. Where are we going?”
“I’ll show you,” he said, taking the lead as they rounded the corner.
Rosie didn’t ask again, just fell in step beside him, her gaze flitting from him to the world around them. There was a bounce in her step, a quiet kind of contentment radiating off her.
Katsuki glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, wondering for the millionth time why she was so damn annoying—but also why it didn’t bother him as much as it should. Instead of thinking too hard about it, he focused on the path ahead, muttering, “It’s not far. Keep up.”
“Always,” she teased with a grin, keeping her pace right alongside his.
How did he always find himself in her presence? He didn’t try to seek her out—hell, he actively tried not to—but yet, here he was. After his Advanced Molecular Studies class, he found himself walking slowly, deliberately dragging his feet as he waited for Rosie to catch up.
She was still talking to her professor, her animated gestures visible even from a distance.
Katsuki glared at the ground, cursing himself under his breath. He’d promised himself he’d get his shit together. To focus on school, work, and his training. Not to think about her. Not to care about what she was doing, where she was, or why she hadn’t caught up to him yet.
And yet, here he was. Waiting like some damn dog.
“Katsuki!”
His head snapped up at her voice, but before he could register what was happening, a blur of pink collided with him. She threw her arms around his neck and yanked him down, her weight pulling him slightly off balance.
“What th—” His words died in his throat as he froze, arms awkwardly at his sides, body stiff as a board.
“I got a perfect score on my homework!” Rosie practically shouted, squeezing him tighter. Her voice bubbled with excitement, her happiness radiating off her in waves. “And a perfect score on the pop quiz today! It’s all thanks to you!”
Katsuki stood there, stunned, his brain short-circuiting. She was hugging him. Hugging him. No one hugged him—not like this, not without warning, and certainly not with so much damn enthusiasm.
Not even his own mother.
And damn it, why the hell did she smell so good? That sweet, floral perfume she always wore wrapped around him, making his head spin. His hands hovered uncertainly in the air for a moment before one of them instinctively landed on her waist, the other brushing against the soft fabric of her white sweater.
She was so warm, her body pressed flush against his, her hair brushing against his jaw as she laughed into his shoulder. The sound was soft, full of pure joy, and it did something to him—something he couldn’t quite name.
He swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly dry. His mind screamed at him to push her away, to make a snarky comment, to do anything that would shift the focus off the way his chest tightened and his stomach flipped.
But he didn’t.
He couldn’t stop focusing on the way her perfume filled the air, or the feel of her arms wound tightly around his neck. His fingers tightened ever so slightly on her waist, his brain betraying him as one single thought blared in his mind: I’m so fucking screwed.
Because he didn’t just like how she felt against him.
He loved it.
Chapter Text
The soft clink of cutlery against plates filled the cozy dining room of Rosie’s apartment. The table was set neatly: medium-rare steak with mashed potatoes and roasted asparagus on each plate, a bottle of red wine open beside Aizawa’s glass, while Rosie sipped from her own glass of white.
“How is school coming along?” Aizawa asked casually, his voice low and measured as he peered at her over the rim of his glass.
“Amazing!” Rosie beamed, setting her fork down for emphasis. “I’m passing all my classes! Even Chemistry!”
His brow arched ever so slightly. “Did you get a tutor?”
“No,” she said, her smile growing as she reached for her wine glass. “I asked Katsuki to help me on Saturday. Because of him, I got a perfect score on my homework and my pop quiz today.” She took a sip, clearly proud.
Aizawa didn’t respond right away. He placed his glass back down, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he stared at her. Slowly, he cut into his steak, his movements deliberate.
“Bakugou helped you?” he asked finally, his tone unreadable.
“Yep,” she replied, spearing a piece of asparagus with her fork.
There was a long pause, and then, in his usual deadpan voice, Aizawa asked, “Did he hit you?”
Rosie froze, her fork halfway to her mouth, before lowering it and staring at her father with wide eyes. “What? No! Why would you ask such a thing?”
He gave a slight shrug, his expression as neutral as ever as he cut another piece of steak. “No reason.”
Her brow furrowed, clearly puzzled, but she didn’t push the issue. “Well, he didn’t,” she said firmly before taking another bite of her food.
Aizawa made a faint sound of acknowledgment before returning to his meal. He watched her from the corner of his eye, noting her animated expressions as she continued to talk about school and work.
Still, he couldn’t quite shake the mental image of Bakugo’s usual explosive temper. It was hard to imagine the boy sitting still long enough to help anyone, let alone Rosie, with something like Chemistry. But then again… Bakugou has always been one of his best students since he was fifteen.
Aizawa took another deliberate sip of his wine, his eyes fixed on his plate as though the steak in front of him had suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the world.
“Hmm,” he muttered again, the sound almost lost under the clink of Rosie’s fork against her plate.
“What was that?” Rosie asked, looking up sharply.
“Nothing,” he said smoothly, meeting her gaze only briefly before returning to his meal. “Pass the salt.”
Rosie didn’t move. He didn’t have to look up to know that she was staring at him with her narrowed, no-nonsense expression—the same one her mother used to give him when she knew he was hiding something.
“Dad,” she said, her tone low and pointed.
Aizawa stiffened slightly. That tone—it was uncanny. A perfect blend of Miyu’s sharp intuition and his own dry edge.
“I will tell you another day.”
The warm aroma of freshly baked pastries and brewed coffee filled the air as Rosie slid another tray of delicate fruit tarts into the display case. Beside her, Shinso worked methodically, arranging rows of croissants, muffins, and danishes with the precision of someone who had done it a hundred times before. Kanako, their energetic coworker, bustled back and forth between the front and the kitchen, her cheerful humming adding to the lively atmosphere.
“I’ll be right back,” Kanako chirped, wiping her hands on her apron. “I need to check on the next batch of éclairs.” She disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Rosie and Shinso alone at the counter.
Shinso glanced at Rosie, leaning slightly against the edge of the counter as he finished aligning the pastries. “So, how’s your day been?”
Rosie smiled as she dusted off her hands and straightened her apron. “Pretty good, actually. I had an early dinner with my dad before coming here. We always eat together on Mondays and Thursdays.”
“Sounds nice,” Shinso replied, genuinely interested. “You’re close with him, huh?”
“Yeah, he’s great,” Rosie said warmly, then adding, “You might actually know him.”
Shinso raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? Who’s your dad?”
She turned to him, her expression bright as she said, “Shota Aizawa.”
Shinso froze, his hand mid-reach for a napkin dispenser. His usually calm, laid-back demeanor shattered as his eyes widened, and he stared at her as if she’d just told him she was related to All Might himself. “Wait—what?”
Before Rosie could respond, the chime of the front door interrupted them as a group of customers walked in. The two exchanged a quick glance before snapping back into work mode.
“I’ll take care of them,” Rosie said quickly, grabbing a notepad and stepping up to the counter with her signature sunny smile.
“Welcome to Ishlamare! What can I get for you today?”
Shinso lingered for a moment, still processing the bombshell she’d just dropped. Shota Aizawa? Eraser Head is her dad? He rubbed the back of his neck, muttering something under his breath before grabbing the cleaning supplies.
“I’ll take care of the second floor,” he said, mostly to himself, as he headed for the stairs. His mind raced as he climbed, replaying their conversation and wondering how the hell he’d missed the connection. Rosie’s demeanor was so different from Aizawa’s, but now that he thought about it, there was something in the way she carried herself—confident but unassuming—that suddenly made sense.
As he started wiping down tables, he couldn’t help but glance over the railing at Rosie below, cheerfully taking orders and chatting with customers. She was so effortlessly kind and approachable, a stark contrast to her father’s no-nonsense attitude.
Still, the revelation had thrown him completely off balance. He couldn’t wait to get her alone again and ask how on earth she ended up being Eraser Head’s daughter.
Rosie reached for her favorite lip gloss, the strawberry scent calming her as she applied a fresh coat. Once satisfied, she stuffed it back in her apron and picked up her phone. Her thumb instinctively swiped through social media, her feed filled with posts from her classmates and mutuals.
She followed nearly everyone from her class—Mina, Momo, Jirou, and even Kaminari. But not Katsuki.
Not because she didn’t want to. She just couldn’t bring herself to hit that follow button.
Her heart fluttered uncomfortably as she exited the app and opened her camera roll. There, buried among her snapshots and random memes, were the photos sent to the group chat last week. Kirishima and Kaminari had gone overboard during their guy sleepover, snapping candid pictures of everyone and sending them in the group chat for laughs.
Rosie had saved them all.
But there was one photo she couldn’t stop coming back to.
Her finger hovered over the screen before tapping it. The image filled her phone, and for what felt like the hundredth time, she stared at it.
Katsuki stood beside the couch, one hand gripping a beer while the other held a controller. His black T-shirt clung to his broad shoulders, highlighting the toned muscle underneath, while his grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, comfortably loose yet somehow impossibly distracting.
He looked... different.
Relaxed.
His signature scowl was replaced by a crooked smirk, the corners of his mouth turned up as if he were silently taunting someone. His sharp crimson eyes were focused on the TV screen, the faint glow casting shadows across his sharp jawline. The picture captured a side of him she wasn’t used to seeing—calm, almost carefree.
Rosie bit her bottom lip, her cheeks warming as she zoomed in slightly.
He really is handsome.
She tried to ignore how the grey sweatpants only added to his appeal, the casual outfit making him look approachable in a way she rarely saw. Usually, Katsuki was all intensity and fire, but here? He looked almost... soft. Like someone you could sit next to for hours and feel at ease.
Startled, immediately shoved her phone back into her wallet when she heard the door's bell ding.
“Hello! Welcome to Ishlamare, what can I get you?” Rosie greeted the next customer with her signature bright smile, her exhaustion buried beneath her cheerful tone.
The man who stepped forward had long, dark hair pulled back in a low ponytail and striking purple eyes, framed by a sharp tribal tattoo just beneath one of them. He exuded confidence, his lean frame draped in a sleek black leather jacket.
“Could I just get a large dark roast coffee?” he asked, his voice smooth and velvety, like a melody that didn’t need music.
“Here or to go?” Rosie asked, maintaining her polite demeanor as she tapped the order into the register.
“To go,” he replied, his lips quirking into a small smile.
“Alright, one moment!” Rosie turned, grabbing a cup from the stack and starting the brew.
“Busy night?” the man asked, leaning casually against the counter, his gaze lingering on her as she worked.
Rosie chuckled, her back still turned to him. “You could say that. Mondays are always packed. Everyone’s trying to recover from the weekend or caffeinate for the week ahead.”
“You handle it well,” he remarked, his tone warm as he studied her easy smile when she turned back to face him.
Rosie tilted her head, not catching the undertone in his words. “Thanks! It definitely keeps me on my toes. Plus, the team here is great. We all pitch in when things get crazy.”
“That so?” he asked, his voice dipping slightly, almost teasing. “Bet they appreciate having someone like you around to brighten things up.”
Rosie glanced at him, her smile widening but not faltering. “Oh, they do. I bring all the sass and sarcasm they can handle,” she joked, grabbing a lid and snapping it onto his cup.
“Hmm, I can see that,” he said, his gaze holding hers a little too long as he accepted the coffee she handed him. His fingers brushed hers briefly, but Rosie was too preoccupied to notice.
“Here you go—one large dark roast, to go. Anything else I can get you?” she asked, already wiping her hands on her apron.
“Nah, this is perfect. But…” He paused, tapping his fingers on the counter thoughtfully. “If I wanted to come back, maybe sit and have a coffee next time, would you recommend a seat with a view? Or maybe one near the register?”
Rosie blinked, processing the question with her usual friendliness. “Oh, definitely near the window upstairs. The view’s amazing, especially during sunsets. Plus, it’s quieter up there.”
He smiled, leaning just slightly closer. “Good to know. Thanks, Rosie.”
Her brow furrowed in confusion for a brief moment before realization dawned on her. “Oh! My name tag.” She laughed, glancing down at the little gold badge on her chest. “Well, enjoy your coffee! Have a great night!”
“Night,” he said with a soft chuckle, taking his coffee and giving her one last lingering look before heading toward the door.
As soon as he left, Rosie turned back to the register. Kanako poked her head out from the kitchen, her eyes wide with curiosity.
“Did you even notice that guy was flirting with you?” Kanako asked, her voice hushed but filled with disbelief.
Rosie frowned, puzzled. “Flirting? He was just being polite!”
Kanako rolled her eyes, disappearing back into the kitchen. “Clueless,” she muttered under her breath, but Rosie was too busy preparing for the next customer to hear.
It was just past ten when Rosie finally clocked out, her apron folded neatly under her arm as she headed toward the door. Just as she stepped outside, she almost bumped into Katsuki, who had just walked in. He was dressed casually in black sweats, a fitted t-shirt, and a jean jacket, his blond hair still messy but somehow purposeful. His crimson eyes locked onto hers, sharp as ever.
“Katsuki,” she blinked, startled. “Hello.”
“Clocking out?” he asked, his tone neutral but his gaze steady.
“Yeah, I’m heading home now.”
“Wait here,” he said abruptly, brushing past her into the coffee shop.
Rosie stood there, confused, watching him approach Kanako at the counter. Kanako spotted Rosie over his shoulder and gave her a knowing smirk before turning to make his drink. Katsuki didn’t look back as he waited, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets.
Moments later, he returned with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. He stepped outside, his breath visible in the chilly night air, and motioned toward the street. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”
“Oh, it’s okay,” Rosie said quickly, holding up a hand. “I only live five minutes away. I can walk.”
“Not taking no for an answer,” he grunted, already heading toward his car.
Rosie hesitated, then sighed and jogged to catch up with him. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
Katsuki didn’t respond, taking a long sip of his coffee as they approached his car. Rosie’s eyes widened slightly as she took it in. The sleek black vehicle glinted faintly under the streetlights, its tinted windows and polished exterior giving it an almost intimidating presence.
Of course it’s black, she thought, unsurprised.
When Katsuki unlocked the doors and she slipped into the passenger seat, she wasn’t shocked to find the interior just as pristine. Black leather seats with red stitching, minimalistic yet undeniably stylish.
“Nice car,” she remarked as she buckled her seatbelt.
“Thanks,” he muttered, starting the engine. The low hum of the car matched his no-nonsense energy perfectly.
As he pulled out of the parking lot, Rosie glanced at him, noticing the way his hand gripped the steering wheel, the veins in his forearm visible under the streetlights. Her gaze shifted to the coffee in his other hand.
“Why are you drinking coffee so late, anyway?” she asked, genuinely curious.
“Had a lot of shit to do today,” he admitted, his tone curt. “Still got homework to finish before class tomorrow.”
Her eyes flicked to the backseat, where his familiar black backpack sat. “Hmm,” she hummed, thinking. “Well, if you want, you can do your homework at my place. I still have some to finish too, and I’d love the company.”
Katsuki glanced at her briefly, his crimson eyes unreadable. “I’ll think about it,” he said, his voice gruff.
Rosie smiled, settling back in her seat. “Good.”
The car fell into a comfortable silence as they neared her apartment, the warmth of the heater filling the space. Rosie watched the passing streetlights, her lips curving slightly as she thought about how unexpected yet natural it felt to have him driving her home.
When they arrived at her building, Rosie motioned toward an open parking space marked with her apartment number. Katsuki furrowed his brows as he maneuvered his car into the spot, killing the engine with a huff.
“Why the hell do you pay for a parking spot if you don’t even have a car?” he asked, stepping out of the vehicle and slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
She grinned, clearly amused by his irritation. “My dad pays for it,” she explained, pulling her purse over her shoulder as they walked toward the building. “He likes to have a spot whenever he drives over to check in on me or have dinner.”
Katsuki grunted as they entered the lavish lobby. The marble floors gleamed under the bright lights, and the air smelled faintly of fresh flowers. His eyes flicked to the security guard at the desk, who gave Rosie a nod of recognition as she led Katsuki to the elevator.
“You have your license here?” he asked as they stepped inside and she pressed the button for the fourteenth floor.
Rosie shook her head, leaning against the elevator wall. “Nope. I debated getting it, but I hate driving. It’s not my thing. I get distracted too easily, and cars make me nervous.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Why? You suck at it or something?”
She laughed lightly, but her tone shifted as she spoke. “Not exactly. When I was twelve, my mom and I got into a car accident. Some idiot ran a red light and slammed into the passenger side. I ended up in the hospital with a concussion and a broken arm.”
She tugged up the sleeve of her shirt, revealing a faint scar that ran along her right arm. “Since then, I’ve avoided getting behind the wheel. Just don’t feel safe, you know?”
Katsuki’s gaze lingered on the scar, his jaw tightening slightly. He didn’t say anything for a moment, then grunted, “Still dangerous to walk around at night. That’s stupid.”
Rosie shrugged, the elevator dinging as they reached her floor. “Maybe. But I’d rather deal with that than drive.”
She led him down the hallway to apartment seven and unlocked the door, punching a quick code into the security panel as it beeped softly. The apartment was warm and inviting, the kind of place that felt lived-in without being cluttered. Soft lighting illuminated the open-concept living space.
“Make yourself at home,” she said, dropping her purse and keys onto the bar. “You can set up in the living room. I’m just going to change real quick, and then I’ll join you.”
Katsuki scanned the apartment. He nodded and made his way to the couch, tossing his backpack down and pulling out his notebook and laptop.
“Don’t take forever,” he muttered, half under his breath, though there was no real bite to his words.
Rosie flashed him a grin as she disappeared down the hallway, leaving him alone in the quiet, comfortable space.
Rosie stripped off her work uniform as soon as she entered her room, swapping it for a pair of pink cotton shorts and a black hoodie that hung loosely around her frame. She tossed her uniform into the laundry basket with practiced ease and ran a hand through her hair, shaking out the long hours of work. Sighing contentedly, she padded barefoot back into the living room, where her backpack still rested on the couch.
Katsuki sat in the corner of the couch, his laptop perched on his knees, the glow of the screen casting sharp shadows on his face. He looked surprisingly at ease in her living room, his posture relaxed but still with that familiar sharpness in his gaze as he scrolled through whatever work he was focusing on.
Maya recognized him immediately. She was curled up beside him, a small lump of fur breathing softly against his thigh. The sight made Rosie pause for a moment, a small smile creeping onto her face.
She cleared her throat, breaking the comfortable silence. “I’m going to order some food. Would you like anything?”
Katsuki glanced up at her, his crimson eyes locking onto hers for a brief moment before flicking back to his screen. “You choose, and I’ll order off the menu,” he said, his tone casual as his fingers hovered over the keyboard.
Rosie nodded, moving to the kitchen. She opened her designated takeout menu drawer and pulled out three of her favorite spots, glancing over the options before carrying the menus back to him. “Here,” she said, handing them over. “Pick one of these. I need to feed Maya.”
As Katsuki took the menus, Rosie grabbed Maya’s food from the pantry and set it out in a small dish by the kitchen. The small dog perked up immediately, hopping off the couch to enjoy her meal.
“Yakisoba place,” Katsuki decided, tossing the other menus back onto the table. He handed her the one he’d chosen, tapping the corner of the page where the dish he wanted was listed. “Get me the beef yakisoba. And extra white rice.”
“Got it,” Rosie said, taking the menu from him. She walked back to the kitchen, dialing the number from memory: One beef yakisoba with extra white rice for Katsuki and a chicken teriyaki combo with veggies for herself.
Once she hung up, she reached for a wine glass and the bottle of white wine she kept in the fridge. Pouring herself a glass, she turned back to the living room, sipping the crisp drink as she returned to the couch. Katsuki had already set aside the menus and was back to typing on his laptop, the faint click of keys filling the air.
Rosie plopped down beside him, grabbing her backpack and pulling out her own laptop, along with a folder stuffed with homework. She set her glass of wine on the coffee table and flipped open her laptop, booting it up.
“You’re really drinking wine while we do homework?” Katsuki asked, side-eyeing her with a raised brow.
She grinned, taking another sip. “Why not? It’s been a long day. Plus, it’s white wine—sweet and fruity.”
“Whatever,” he muttered, shaking his head but not arguing further.
Forty minutes later, the doorbell rang, pulling Rosie’s attention away from her notes. Setting aside her things, she grabbed her wallet and headed to the door, her socked feet padding softly across the hardwood floor.
Opening the door, she was met by a tall delivery guy with white hair, pale skin, and striking green eyes. He wore the signature yakisoba uniform, the orange cap perched at an angle on his head. His face lit up when he saw her, a charming smile spreading across his features.
“Yakisoba?” he said cheerfully, holding up the bags of food.
“Yes,” Rosie replied with a polite smile. “How much do I owe you?”
The delivery guy grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, nothing for you!”
She blinked in confusion. “Uh… what? I definitely need to pay for this.”
“Well,” he said, his voice dropping into a tone that he probably thought was suave, “maybe instead of paying, you could tell me if you’re single?”
Rosie blinked at him, stunned by the sudden question. “Uh…” She cleared her throat, still trying to process. “Yes, I’m single, but how does that matter when I’m asking how much I owe you?”
The delivery guy, undeterred, pressed on. “Would you like to go out on a da—”
Before he could finish his sentence, she felt Katsuki’s presence looming behind her. His voice cut through the awkward moment like a blade.
“What’s the matter?” Katsuki asked, his tone low and sharp.
The delivery guy stiffened, clearly intimidated by Katsuki’s glare but foolish enough to press on. Ignoring him, the guy focused back on Rosie, clearly hoping to salvage the moment. “So, about that date—”
Realization finally hit her, and her eyes widened slightly as she understood he’d been flirting with her the whole time. But before she could respond, Katsuki stepped forward, shoved cash into the delivery guy’s shirt pocket with zero ceremony, and snatched the food bags from his hands.
“Keep the change,” Katsuki said gruffly. He then wrapped an arm around Rosie’s waist, pulling her back into the apartment with ease before slamming the door in the delivery guy’s face without another word.
Rosie blinked, looking up at him in confusion. “Why did you do that?”
“Didn’t want the food to get cold.”
She crossed her arms, “No, not that. I mean, why did you pay?”
Katsuki stared at her with his brows furrowed. “The guy wouldn’t say how much it was, so I just paid him. Now we can eat.”
Rosie stared at him, unsure how to respond for a moment. Shaking her head, she slipped out of his arm—ignoring the warm, secure feeling his touch had left behind—and gave him a determined look. “Fine, but I’m paying for lunch tomorrow since you paid for dinner.”
Katsuki snorted, clearly unimpressed by her declaration. “Do whatever you want, idiot.”
Rolling her eyes, she led the way back to the living room, where Maya had curled up on the couch. Katsuki followed her, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he placed the bags on the table and got comfortable again. Rosie tried to focus on the food, but her mind couldn’t shake the weight of his arm or the way he’d effortlessly handled the situation.
Rosie took a bite of her yakisoba, savoring the rich, savory flavor, and reached for her glass of white wine. She swirled the liquid absently before taking a sip, the crisp taste refreshing after her long day. “How much homework do you have left?” she asked, breaking the comfortable silence between them.
Katsuki leaned back against the couch, one arm resting along the backrest, his posture as relaxed as she’d ever seen him. “I had just finished, actually,” he replied, grabbing his chopsticks to scoop up some rice.
Her face lit up with a grin. “After we finish eating, would you look over my chemistry homework?”
He glanced at her, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly. “What, didn’t trust me the first time I helped you?”
“Of course, I did!” she said, mock offense in her tone. “I just want to make sure I didn’t mess anything up. It’s not exactly my best subject.”
He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. “Yeah, fine.”
Rosie beamed and resumed eating, occasionally sneaking glances at him as he polished off his food. He ate with quiet efficiency, each movement precise and deliberate, but there was a casualness to his demeanor that made her apartment feel cozier.
“Want some wine?” she asked, holding up the bottle after topping off her own glass.
He raised a brow at her. “I don’t drink that sweet crap.”
“It’s not sweet!” she protested, laughing. “It’s crisp and refreshing. Just try it.”
“No thanks,” he said firmly, though there was an amused quirk to his lips as he drank his coffee instead.
They ate in companionable silence for a while, Maya occasionally padding over to nuzzle Rosie’s leg before curling up again in her bed near the couch. The sound of the city filtered in through the slightly cracked doors of her balcony, blending with the soft hum of conversation and the clink of chopsticks against bowls.
When they were both finished, Rosie set her bowl and chopsticks aside, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Okay, let me grab my notes.” She stood and retrieved her folder and laptop from the other side of the couch, settling back down next to him.
Katsuki watched her for a moment, his gaze sharp but unreadable. “You’re still nervous about this class, huh?”
She shrugged, opening her laptop. “A little. I don’t want to mess up and fall behind.”
He scoffed lightly, grabbing the folder from her lap and flipping through her notes. “You won’t. You’re too stubborn to fail.”
“Was that… a compliment?” she teased, leaning toward him with a smirk.
“Don’t push it,” he muttered, though the faintest hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
They worked through her chemistry homework together, Katsuki occasionally pointing out small errors or suggesting better ways to phrase her answers. Rosie found herself more focused than usual, probably because of how close he was sitting. His presence was grounding, even as her heart fluttered whenever his arm brushed hers.
After a while, she leaned back with a satisfied sigh, closing her laptop. “Thanks, Katsuki. I feel way more confident about this now.”
“Good,” he said simply, leaning back as well.
Rosie glanced at him, her gaze softening. “I don’t know what I’d do without you helping me.”
“You’d figure it out,” he said gruffly
Notes:
drop a comment or a kudos and please check out my other works<3
Chapter 8: You should’ve just said you were scared of haunted houses
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The bright neon lights of the pizzeria’s back lot flickered as Katsuki clocked out, tossing his hat onto the passenger seat of his car. His shift had been long and annoying, but at least it was over. He glanced to see it was only eight, which meant that he had time to hit up the gym. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he adjusted the mirror and started the engine, the familiar roar grounding him after hours of delivering pizzas to ungrateful customers.
As he reached to grab his phone from the center console, something on the floorboard caught his eye. A small, glossy tube glinted under the faint light. Frowning, he picked it up, turning it over in his hand.
Strawberry lip gloss.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out whose it was.
“Rosie,” he muttered, a mix of annoyance and something he couldn’t quite place tightening in his chest. He thumbed the pink cap, the faint scent of strawberries lingering as he slipped it into his jeans pocket.
He shook his head and started driving, the streets quiet as the city wound down for the night. The steady hum of the engine was interrupted by the buzz of his phone. Grumbling, he tapped the hands-free button on his steering wheel.
“What?”
“Yo, bro!” Kirishima’s voice boomed through the car speakers. “You’re done with work, right? A bunch of us are hitting up the amusement park in an hour. You in?”
Katsuki scowled, gripping the wheel tighter. “Why the hell would I wanna waste my night with all of you idiots?”
“Come on, man,” Kirishima coaxed. “It’s been a while since we all hung out together. Plus, it’s not just the guys. Everyone’s coming, even Rosie since she got someone to cover her shift.”
At the mention of her name, Katsuki’s scowl deepened, though his heart gave an irritating lurch. “Tch, fine. But if you idiots start acting stupid, I’m out.”
“Awesome! We’ll pick you up at—”
“I’ll drive myself,” Katsuki interrupted, his tone sharp.
“Okay, okay, geez,” Kirishima chuckled. “See you later, man.”
The call ended, leaving Katsuki alone with his thoughts. He didn’t usually go for this kind of thing, but the idea of Rosie being there kept running through his mind. He could already imagine her—bright eyes lighting up at every ride, laughing with her classmates, and probably wearing something annoyingly perfect that would make it impossible not to stare at her.
“Damn it,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he pulled into his parking garage. He parked, leaning back in his seat and pulling out the tube of lip gloss from his pocket.
Strawberries. She always smelled like them.
He shoved the gloss back into his pocket, scowling at himself. “Did I get hit in the head or something?”
Shutting off the engine, he climbed out of the car, slamming the door a little harder than necessary. But no matter how much he tried to focus on anything else, thoughts of Rosie—her laugh, her smile, her damn lip gloss—followed him all the way to his apartment.
The cold night air bit at Katsuki’s cheeks as he shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his black jeans. The group of idiots he called classmates were huddled near the entrance of the amusement park, their chatter loud and energetic. Strings of twinkling lights hung above the gate, and the distant sound of laughter and music from inside the park filled the air.
“Yo, Bakugou!” Kirishima’s red hair stood out even in the dim light, his sharp-toothed grin as bright as ever. “You made it!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki grumbled, walking up to them. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
Kaminari leaned against a railing, smirking. “Wow, he’s actually here. Who threatened you, man?”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Nobody. Just don’t expect me to hold your hand on the rides, Pikachu.”
The group laughed, and Kirishima clapped Katsuki on the shoulder. “Man, we’re glad you came. It’s not the same without you glaring at everyone and keeping us in line.”
“Tch, like I care.” Katsuki leaned against a post, scanning the group. Everyone was there—except for Rosie and Uraraka.
“Hey, where are the girls?” he asked, his tone neutral despite the slight tightness in his chest.
Kaminari shrugged then smirked. “Uraraka texted she’d be late. Don’t know about Rosie. Maybe she ditched u—”
“Shut up.” Katsuki cut him off, his eyes narrowing.
“Geez, protective much?” Kaminari teased.
Katsuki ignored him, but something in the air shifted. He felt it—like an instinct. Straightening, he turned just in time to see her.
Rosie.
She was walking toward them, her heeled white boots clicking softly against the pavement, the sound somehow louder in Katsuki's ears than the chatter of their classmates. The short-sleeve pink dress she wore swayed with every step, the hemline teasingly short, and the soft breeze toyed with the fabric like it had a life of its own. Her long hair, curled to perfection, bounced with her every movement, catching the glow of the park lights like a halo. She raised a hand to wave, her smile brighter than the twinkling lights strung above the amusement park entrance.
It was ridiculous.
Time seemed to slow, and Katsuki swore he could hear his own heartbeat in his ears. Everything around him—the bustling voices, the faint music from the rides, the cold bite of the night air—faded into the background. It was just her, her effortless elegance and that stupid, perfect smile. She looked untouchable, like she belonged in some dream too far away for him to reach.
“Tch,” he muttered under his breath, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets to keep from doing anything stupid, like staring too obviously.
“Whoa,” Kirishima said, his tone low with awe. “She looks—”
“Like a freakin’ doll,” Kaminari finished, blinking like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
Katsuki’s jaw tightened, and a sharp heat crawled up his neck. “Shut it, idiots,” he snapped, his voice harsher than intended.
Although he agreed.
Rosie being pretty as a doll.
Rosie’s gaze landed on the group, her smile widening as she picked up her pace. “Hey, everyone!” she called cheerfully, waving at them. “Sorry we’re late! Uraraka and I ran into traffic.”
Katsuki felt something twist in his chest at the sound of her voice, warm and light like it was meant to melt through the cold night. He forced himself to scowl, turning slightly away from her as she stopped in front of them.
“You shouldn’t make people wait,” he muttered, his tone gruff.
She tilted her head at him, the playful smile on her lips not faltering for a second. “Miss me that much, Katsuki?”
The heat in his chest flared as Kaminari let out a low whistle, and Kirishima stifled a laugh behind his hand. Katsuki shot them both a warning glare before grumbling, “Let’s just get inside already,” and turning away before she could see the faintest hint of pink creeping up his ears.
Rosie giggled softly, but instead of following immediately, she turned to Mina and Kirishima, who had stepped forward to greet her.
“Rosie, you look so cute!” Mina gushed, grabbing her hands and spinning her slightly to admire the outfit.
“You think?” Rosie smiled brightly. “I wasn’t sure if this dress was too much, but Uraraka said it was perfect.”
“She was right!” Mina said enthusiastically. “It’s adorable. And those boots? Love them.”
Kirishima grinned, scratching the back of his head. “You’re definitely making the rest of us look like slackers. Not that it’s a bad thing!”
Meanwhile, Kaminari had already meandered over to where Jirou, Tokoyami, and Tsuyu were chatting, leaving Katsuki standing awkwardly nearby. Deku and Uraraka joined the growing cluster of their classmates as everyone chatted and mingled. Katsuki glanced back once at Rosie, who was laughing at something Mina said, her energy lighting up the group.
Damn it. She was too damn untouchable, and yet, he couldn’t stop himself from looking. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, willing the annoying tightness in his chest to go away.
“Alright everyone let’s go get our tickets!” Iida said as he started heading towards the booth.
The neon lights of the amusement park glowed brighter as Katsuki strode up to the ticket booth with Rosie by his side. She was looking around, her eyes wide with excitement, taking in the swirling rides, the brightly lit stalls, and the wafting scent of popcorn and funnel cakes. Katsuki barely gave the scenery a second glance as he stepped up to the counter.
"Two tickets," he said curtly, sliding the cash over to the attendant.
Rosie blinked, turning to him in surprise. "Wait—Katsuki, you didn’t have to—"
He ignored her, taking the two tickets and the matching neon blue bracelets the attendant handed him. Without missing a beat, he grabbed her hand, holding up the bracelet.
“Here, hold still,” he muttered.
Rosie complied, her lips forming a small "oh" as he looped the bracelet around her wrist. His fingers brushed her skin, and for a moment, Katsuki stilled. Her wrist was so small, her skin soft against his calloused fingers. The contrast made him pause longer than necessary before he snapped the bracelet into place.
“There,” he grumbled, shoving the other bracelet onto his own wrist.
“Thanks,” she said, her voice softer than before. She glanced down at her wrist, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re really sweet, you know that?”
Katsuki scowled, turning away as the heat climbed up his neck. “Tch. Did you get brain damage since the last time we saw each other? Come on, everyone’s already heading in.”
Grabbing her lightly by the wrist, he pulled her toward the large gates. The sounds of rides creaking, screams of thrill-seekers, and bursts of laughter grew louder as they approached. The guy at the entrance barely looked up as Katsuki handed over the tickets.
The man ripped off a small part, handing the stubs back. Rosie held out her hand before Katsuki could stuff them into his pocket. “Can I keep them?”
He shot her a puzzled look. “Why?”
She shrugged, smiling. “I like keeping stuff like this. They’re little memories.”
Katsuki didn’t get it, but he didn’t argue. With a huff, he handed the tickets over, stuffing his hands back in his pockets as they stepped through the gates.
The rest of their class had already spread out, but a few still lingered nearby, laughing and chattering. Rosie wandered toward an information board near the entrance, plucking one of the free maps.
“This place is huge,” she said, unfolding the map with a delighted smile. “What should we do first?”
Momo, standing nearby, stepped closer to peer at the map. “Have you been here before, Rosie?”
Rosie shook her head, still looking over the colorful map. “Nope. I never had anyone to go with, so this is my first time actually.”
Her voice was casual, but the words made Katsuki glance at her sharply. She didn’t look upset, just... honest.
“Then we’ll make sure it’s fun,” Mina said brightly, hooking her arm around Rosie’s. “Let’s hit the rides first!”
Rosie beamed, folding the map and tucking it into her heart-shaped purse. Katsuki stayed silent, his hands shoved into his pockets as he followed the group. The sound of Rosie’s laughter and her light steps kept drawing his attention, though he would’ve sworn it was just the noise of the park distracting him.
The line for one of the park’s largest roller coasters stretched long, the towering steel frame casting a shadow over the group. Rosie and Mina stood a few paces ahead, animatedly chatting and laughing. Rosie’s pink dress fluttered lightly in the breeze, and her smile seemed to light up even the darkened park. Katsuki’s eyes lingered on her longer than he wanted to admit before Kirishima’s voice broke through his thoughts.
“You and Rose seem closer since the last time the three of us hung out,” Kirishima said with a knowing grin, standing beside him.
Katsuki snorted, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his black jeans. “We keep running into one another. That’s all.”
Kirishima raised a brow, his expression shifting from casual to serious. “You like her, don’t you?”
Katsuki’s head snapped toward him, a scowl forming. “Why the hell would you think that?”
“Because,” Kirishima said calmly, crossing his arms, “you’ve never been this close to a girl, much less this nice to one. And don’t even try to deny it.”
Katsuki clicked his tongue, his scowl deepening. “Tch. I’m only nice to her so Aizawa doesn’t kick my ass. She’s his daughter, remember?”
Kirishima just rolled his eyes, an unimpressed look on his face. “Look, man, I’ve known you for years. I know when you’re lying. You like her.”
“I don’t date,” Katsuki said flatly, his voice tinged with finality.
Kirishima smirked. “You didn’t date. That’s past tense, bro.”
Katsuki felt his eye twitch, a spark of irritation rising. “I only sleep with women. Dating isn’t my thing. Never has been.”
Kirishima sighed, shaking his head as he leaned slightly closer, his tone dropping to something more serious. “You’re so full of it, man. I think you like her, and you just don’t want to admit it. But I’m telling you right now, you better figure that out quick.”
Katsuki frowned, his jaw tightening. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
Kirishima straightened, giving him a pointed look. “I talked to Shinso the other day. He’s very much interested in Rosie.”
Katsuki’s heart skipped a beat, though his expression remained steely. He glanced ahead at Rosie, her laugh ringing out as she nudged Mina playfully. The sight sent a flicker of something through him, but he quickly shoved it down.
“Tch. Like I care,” he muttered, his voice gruff.
Kirishima just gave him a knowing smile. “Sure, man. Whatever you say.”
As the line moved forward, Katsuki clenched his fists in his pockets, his gaze drifting back to Rosie despite himself. The thought of Shinso being "interested" in her left a bitter taste in his mouth that he couldn’t quite shake.
“Okay, now we can cross this one off the list!” Mina clapped her hands enthusiastically, pointing at the towering roller coaster they had just exited.
They had been on five rides already, each one more intense than the last. Katsuki glanced over at Rosie, who was scanning the brightly lit food stalls with a faint glimmer of interest in her eyes. He caught the subtle flicker of her gaze and rolled his eyes, snorting.
“Let’s take a break and get something to eat,” he said, his voice gruff but decisive.
“Great idea, man!” Kirishima grinned, throwing an arm over Mina’s shoulders. “What are you in the mood for, babe?”
“I’m thinking takoyaki!” Mina pointed at a nearby stall adorned with colorful banners. “We’ll meet you guys at the table!”
As Mina and Kirishima walked off, Rosie turned toward Katsuki, looking up at him with a smile. Even in her heeled boots, she barely reached his collarbone.
“So, what do you want?” he asked
“Tempura,” she answered immediately, her smile widening. “But if you want something else, that’s okay too.”
“Tempura it is, then,” he grunted, grabbing her wrist and leading her toward the brightly lit stand.
After ordering and paying for their food, Katsuki carried the tray while Rosie followed beside him, her cheerful demeanor almost infectious. When they reached the picnic tables, he immediately spotted Kirishima and Mina seated at one of the larger ones, joined by Icy Hot, Momo, Uraraka, and Deku.
Before Katsuki could say anything, Rosie’s face lit up. “Oh, everyone’s here!” she exclaimed, hurrying ahead and sliding into the seat right next to Icy Hot.
Something about the sight made Katsuki’s jaw tighten, though he couldn’t figure out why. His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched her greet everyone with a warm smile, her laughter blending with the lively buzz of the park around them. Icy Hot, ever his calm and collected self, offered her a small smile in return, and the two exchanged a few words that Katsuki couldn’t hear.
“Tch,” he muttered under his breath, stalking toward the table. Without a word, he placed Rosie’s tray of food in front of her before taking the seat directly across from her.
“Thanks, Katsuki,” Rosie said brightly, looking up at him with those wide, grateful eyes that made his chest tighten in an unfamiliar way.
“Yeah, whatever,” he grunted, picking at his food with a little more aggression than necessary.
As Rosie chatted with Momo and Uraraka about the next ride they should try, Katsuki found his eyes drifting back to her. The way she leaned slightly toward Icy Hot as she talked, her laugh ringing out when Momo said something funny—it all grated on his nerves.
What the hell is this? he thought, scowling. He wasn’t jealous. That is stupid. He didn’t get jealous.
Still, his grip on his chopsticks tightened as Icy Hot leaned closer to hear something Rosie said. Katsuki stabbed a piece of tempura harder than necessary, the loud crunch echoing over the table. Rosie glanced at him briefly, her brow furrowed in confusion, but he quickly looked away, stuffing the food into his mouth with a scowl.
Damn it, what’s wrong with me?
Rosie reached into her heart-shaped purse, pulling out the park map she’d carefully folded earlier. Unfolding it, she smoothed it out on the table, the vibrant colors catching the light. “I marked off the rides we’ve been on so far,” she said, her voice bright as she pointed to the crossed-out sections.
Shoto leaned in, his pale eyes scanning the map. “What do the blue hearts mean?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.
Rosie flushed, her cheeks turning a soft pink. “Oh, those are the ones I really want to ride… or see,” she admitted sheepishly.
“Aw, that’s so cute!” Mina grinned, leaning closer to inspect the map.
Katsuki snorted softly, glancing at the map over the rim of his cup. Something about it struck him as a little childish—but also weirdly endearing.
Momo, ever the planner, pointed to the map with a delicate finger. “Two of the rides you’ve marked are actually really close by,” she noted. “We can head there after we finish eating.”
“Really?” Rosie’s eyes lit up, her excitement palpable. “That would be amazing!” She quickly turned her attention back to her food, eating faster now as if she couldn’t wait to get moving.
Katsuki kept his gaze fixed on his plate, though he couldn’t help but notice the way her excitement seemed to radiate through the group. He stabbed another piece of tempura, pretending not to care when she turned to him suddenly.
“What about you, Katsuki?” she asked, her voice hopeful. “Would you want to ride those ones too?”
He grunted, not looking up. “Don’t care,” he said, his tone dismissive, though he secretly couldn’t imagine saying no.
Within minutes, everyone had finished eating and packed up their trays. Rosie clutched her map eagerly as they walked toward the marked roller coasters. The group chattered around her, but Katsuki stayed a step behind, his eyes occasionally flicking toward her.
When they joined the line for the first ride, the cold night air seemed sharper. Katsuki noticed Rosie shivering slightly, her arms wrapped around herself for warmth.
“You should’ve worn pants,” he muttered, crossing his arms as he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.
Rosie’s cheeks turned pink again, though this time from more than just the cold. “I didn’t have much time to change,” she explained, looking down at her boots. “I was hanging out with some friends earlier.”
Katsuki snorted, rolling his eyes. Without a word, he shrugged off his jacket and handed it to her.
Rosie’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, I can’t—”
“Just take it,” he said, his tone gruff as he avoided her gaze.
Blushing, she slipped the jacket on. The sleeves were far too long, covering her fingertips entirely, and the hem went well past her dress, almost reaching mid-thigh. She looked up at him with a soft smile, her cheeks still pink. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
Katsuki glanced at her and immediately looked away, feeling heat creep up his neck. Damn it, why did she have to look so… adorable in his jacket? It swallowed her small frame, making her seem even more delicate.
Clearing his throat, he focused on the ride ahead. “We’re next,” he muttered, his voice rougher than usual.
Rosie beamed, her excitement returning full force. As the gates opened for their turn, Katsuki couldn’t shake the image of her in his jacket, no matter how hard he tried to focus on anything else.
“We have to commemorate this!” Mina declared, her eyes lighting up as she pointed at the large photo booth near the edge of the plaza.
Rosie’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Oh, that’s such a cute idea!” she exclaimed.
“Come on, let’s all go!” Uraraka chimed in, already dragging Rosie and Momo toward the booth.
Katsuki stood off to the side with Kirishima, Shoto, and Kaminari as the girls handed over their bags and sweaters, leaving the guys holding an armful of belongings. He grumbled under his breath, his hands now full of Rosie’s heart-shaped purse.
Inside the booth, the girls erupted into giggles as they arranged themselves for the first shot. Through the thin curtain, their overlapping voices carried over.
“Rosie, scoot closer!”
“Mina, don’t block Momo’s face!”
“Wait, can we do a silly one next?”
Katsuki glanced toward the booth, his sharp eyes narrowing as he listened to their laughter. The sound was infectious, though he’d never admit it. The way Rosie’s voice rang out in particular had him clenching his jaw, fighting the urge to crack even the faintest smirk.
“This is taking forever,” he muttered, adjusting the strap of Rosie’s purse over his wrist.
“Relax, man,” Kirishima said with a chuckle, balancing Mina’s sweater and purse on one arm. “They’re having fun. It’s what tonight’s about!”
“We should go to the haunted house next,” Deku added, looking at the group. “I hear this year’s is the scariest one yet!”
Shoto nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a good idea. They change it up every year to keep it fresh.”
“Haunted house?” Kaminari asked, his grin wide. “Man, I hope it’s not too scary. I don’t wanna embarrass myself in front of Jirou.”
Katsuki snorted. “You embarrass yourself every day, dumbass.”
Before Kaminari could retort, the girls emerged from the photo booth, holding glossy strips of snapshots in their hands. They stood in a small circle, giggling and showing each other their pictures.
“Look at this one!” Mina laughed, pointing at a frame where they’d all pulled goofy faces.
“I love how this one turned out,” Momo said, holding up a strip where they were all smiling brightly.
Rosie clutched her photo strip to her chest, her cheeks glowing with happiness. “These are perfect! I’m definitely keeping these forever.”
Katsuki’s gaze flicked to her briefly before he quickly looked away, grumbling under his breath about wasting time.
The girls approached the group, reclaiming their belongings. Rosie reached for her purse, and when her fingers brushed his hand, Katsuki felt an unexpected jolt but said nothing.
“So, what’s next?” Mina asked, bouncing on her heels.
“The haunted house,” Kirishima announced with a grin.
Mina’s eyes widened in delight. “Ooh, that sounds fun!”
Rosie hesitated, glancing up at Katsuki. “Haunted house, huh? Are you a fan of those?”
“Don’t care,” he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets.
With their plan set, the group made their way toward the haunted house. The faint sound of screams and eerie music grew louder as they approached, the cold night air adding to the spooky atmosphere. Katsuki hung back slightly, his eyes lingering on Rosie as she chatted with Momo and Mina, her excitement clear despite the slight nervous edge in her voice.
It wasn’t long before they reached the entrance, where the glowing neon sign above the haunted house flickered ominously.
The worker at the haunted house entrance grinned mischievously, holding up a clipboard. “Alright, folks, this is a pair-only attraction. Everyone needs a partner.”
Mina immediately grabbed Kirishima’s arm with a giggle. “Guess we’re stuck together, huh?”
Uraraka turned to Deku, her cheeks pink. “Shall we?” she asked shyly, and Deku nodded enthusiastically.
Kaminari nudged Jirou. “Looks like it’s you and me, huh?” he said with a playful grin, earning a roll of her eyes but a small smile nonetheless.
That left Momo, Rosie, Shoto, and Katsuki. Katsuki’s feet were already moving toward Rosie, his intent clear, but Momo stepped in first.
“Rosie, would you mind going with me?” Momo asked, her expression hopeful.
Rosie hesitated for a split second, glancing at Katsuki, who was already scowling. “Of course, Momo!” she said with a bright smile, looping her arm through Momo’s.
“Tch,” Katsuki muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening. He turned to Shoto with a sharp glare. “Let’s get this over with, Icy Hot.”
Shoto nodded, seemingly unfazed. “Alright.”
The worker let out a loud whistle, signaling for the first pair to enter the haunted house. “You’ll go in increments of five minutes, so no one gets bunched up inside. Have fun!”
Mina and Kirishima were the first to go, followed by the other pairs. Then it was Icy hot and his turn, he glanced back at her to see her nervously smiling at him.
By the time Katsuki and Shoto made it to the second floor, the scares were barely registering. Katsuki stormed through, unimpressed with the jump scares, fake blood, and eerie lighting. His thoughts were on Rosie—how she was faring, if she was scared, and why the hell he wasn’t the one with her.
Finally, they reached the exit, where their classmates were gathered. Katsuki leaned against a post, arms crossed, glaring at the haunted house entrance as though willing Rosie to emerge.
Minutes ticked by until Momo stumbled out, her face flushed and her breathing unsteady.
“Where’s Rosie?” Uraraka asked, her tone immediately worried.
Momo turned back toward the dark entrance, her expression stricken. “We got jumpscared by one of the actors. He barely touched her, and she screamed and ran. It was too dark to see, and I tried to find her, but…”
Katsuki didn’t wait for her to finish. He pushed off the post, his eyes sharp. “You guys go back to the tables. I’ll find her.”
“Kacchan, wai—” Deku started, but Katsuki was already heading back inside.
The haunted house felt even darker and colder now that he was alone. Katsuki moved quickly, ignoring the fake cobwebs and dim strobe lights. His focus was razor-sharp as he retraced the path Momo described.
Near a narrow corridor, he spotted something on the ground—a heart-shaped purse. His gut tightened as he crouched to pick it up. “Damn it, Rosie…” he muttered.
He tore through the rooms, ignoring the actors who tried to jump out at him. He scanned every corner, every shadow, until a faint flash of pink caught his eye in the “corpse room.”
“Rosie!” he barked, rushing toward the corner.
Curled up against the wall, her legs hugged to her chest and his hoodie’s hood pulled over her head, was Rosie. Her shoulders trembled as quiet sobs wracked her small frame.
Katsuki crouched down to her level, his heart twisting at the sight. “Rosie?” he said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.
She looked up, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the dim red light. The moment her eyes met his, she let out a choked sob and launched herself into his arms.
“I was so scared…” she whispered, her voice breaking as she clung to him.
Katsuki froze for half a second before wrapping his arms around her, holding her tightly. “You’re okay,” he muttered, his voice gruff but steady. “I’ve got you.”
She buried her face against his chest, her small frame shaking as she cried. Katsuki’s jaw clenched, anger bubbling up—not at her but at the situation, at himself for not being there when she needed him.
Then he blinked.
Where the hell did that come from?
He stood, lifting her effortlessly into his arms. “Let’s get out of here,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Outside the haunted house, Katsuki's sharp glare was enough to keep the actors from approaching as he carried Rosie out. Once they emerged into the cool night air, he glanced around, relieved to find the rest of their group had listened to him and cleared out. He knew Rosie wouldn’t want them seeing her like this.
Spotting the bathrooms nearby, he set her down gently. She sniffled, looking up at him with tear-streaked cheeks, her makeup smudged and running.
“Thank you,” she murmured softly.
He crossed his arms, his gaze softening as he took in her disheveled state. “You should’ve just said you were scared of haunted houses,” he said gruffly, though his tone held no bite.
Her hands still clung to his shirt, her fingers curling into the fabric. “Everyone was so excited, and I didn’t want to ruin anyone’s fun. They already did all the rides I wanted to do.”
He snorted, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Next time, we’ll go together. Alright?”
Rosie sniffled again, a faint smile breaking through her tearful expression. “Okay.”
He gestured toward the bathroom door with a nod. “Now go wash your face before anyone sees you like this.”
She nodded, letting go of his shirt reluctantly, and disappeared into the bathroom. Katsuki leaned against the nearby wall, waiting. When she finally stepped back out, her face was fresh with a new layer of makeup that made her look as though she hadn’t been crying at all.
“I want some funnel cake,” she said with a bright smile, her earlier distress seemingly forgotten.
Katsuki shoved his hands into his pockets, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Fine. Let’s go.”
As they made their way toward the food stalls, Rosie suddenly stopped in front of the photo booth they had passed earlier. Her eyes lit up, and she tugged on his sleeve. “Let’s take some pictures!”
Katsuki opened his mouth to protest but found himself nodding instead. “Tch, fine,” he muttered, still wondering what the hell was happening to him tonight.
They squeezed into the small booth, Rosie humming cheerfully as she tapped on the touchscreen to select a layout and background. She shifted back slightly to get a better view of the screen, her heeled boots catching awkwardly on the floor. With a yelp, she stumbled and fell backward—right into his lap.
Her eyes widened as she looked up at him, her cheeks flushed a deep pink. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!”
Before either of them could say another word, the camera flashed, capturing their startled expressions in the first photo.
Katsuki blinked, his brain short-circuiting for a moment before he let out a low, exasperated growl. “Stay still, idiot. It already started.”
Rosie giggled nervously but didn’t move from his lap, instead adjusting herself slightly to sit more comfortably. “Okay, okay. Let’s do some poses!”
For the second photo, she threw up a peace sign with a bright grin, leaning her head lightly against his chest. Katsuki barely managed to lift his hand into a half-hearted wave, his face caught somewhere between annoyance and confusion.
By the third photo, she twisted slightly in his lap, raising both hands to make a heart shape. Her proximity made his face warm, but he turned his head to the side, pretending to look at something outside the booth.
The fourth and final photo captured her playfully sticking out her tongue while Katsuki sat stiffly, his eyes narrowing at the camera as if daring it to capture his awkwardness.
As the screen displayed the results, Rosie laughed, clapping her hands. “These turned out so cute!”
Katsuki glanced at them, grumbling under his breath. “Yeah, whatever. Let’s go get your damn funnel cake.”
But as they stepped out of the booth, her smile lingered in his mind longer than he wanted to admit.
Notes:
Fun Fact about me, the haunted house scene happened to me. I had gone to a haunted house with friends and the scare actor barely touched me and I lost my shit, I had ran further into the haunted house rather than to the exit and I huddled up and cried. It took them twenty minutes to find me, the scare actor felt bad as he walked me out. I was a sophomore in high school and I haven't been to one since then.
Anyway, I hope you guys loved the chapters! Drop a comment or leave kudos if you loved it!
Chapter Text
Katsuki watched as Rosie hummed softly to herself, skipping ahead of him with a light, carefree energy. Her long hair bounced with every step, and the way she moved effortlessly through the crowd made it impossible not to notice her. He couldn’t help but stare, his gaze fixed on her, and for a moment, he almost lost track of where he was.
Ahead of them, their classmates saw Rosie and immediately rushed forward, eager to greet her. They surrounded her in a burst of energy, all speaking at once, asking if she was okay and bombarding her with questions about where she had been. The girls were especially enthusiastic, cooing over her and trying to make her laugh.
Katsuki rolled his eyes, an annoyed grunt escaping his lips. “Let her breathe, dammit!” he growled at the group, arms crossed over his chest.
His sharp tone immediately got their attention, and they backed off, allowing Rosie some breathing room.
Rosie blushed, her cheeks turning a soft pink as she nervously laughed. “Sorry for worrying you guys. I got lost in the dark after the actor scared me, and I couldn’t find my way back.” She turned toward Katsuki, her gaze softening with appreciation. “Thanks for finding me again.”
Katsuki just nodded, his expression unchanging as he mumbled something under his breath about how it was no big deal. “Tch, whatever,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck in an awkward motion.
He watched the group briefly before heading off toward the food stalls to finally get Rosie her funnel cake. As he walked away, the girls all circled around Rosie, excitedly asking her about her little adventure in the haunted house, fawning over her like they did that first day they all met.
By the time he came back, his arms holding a large funnel cake with powdered sugar sprinkled on top with fresh strawberries, he saw the girls still chatting animatedly. He set the treat down in front of Rosie, who smiled up at him.
“What’s all the excitement about now?” Katsuki asked, clearly unimpressed but curious nonetheless.
“We’re going to ride the Ferris wheel before we head out,” Mina announced, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “It’s the perfect way to end the night, right?”
“Yeah, it’ll be fun,” Uraraka agreed, nodding with a grin.
Rosie looked up to Katsuki, her eyes soft with a hint of excitement, as though silently asking if he wanted to go along with them.
Katsuki just gave her a curt nod, his usual gruffness making it hard to tell if he was into the idea. “Tch, fine. Let’s go.”
Rosie’s smile brightened as she looked at the funnel cake, her eyes sparkling with delight. She took a large bite, savoring the sweetness of the strawberries. Katsuki couldn’t help but watch her with a small, amused grin as she dug in.
“I love strawberries! How did you know?” she asked, looking up at him with her lips still dusted with powdered sugar.
He snorted, rolling his eyes. “Lucky guess,” he muttered, hands stuffed in his pockets.
As they made their way towards the Ferris wheel, he handed her the funnel cake, watching as she eagerly took another bite. The sweet smell of strawberries wafted in the air, and when she glanced at him with a soft, teasing smile, she held out the fork.
“Would you like a bite?” she asked, her voice light and carefree.
Katsuki didn’t even hesitate. Without thinking much of it, he leaned in and took the bite from the same fork she was using. He chewed slowly, but as the taste of the sugary treat hit his tongue, his mind went completely blank. He hadn’t realized how intimate it felt, sharing a bite like that. She’d just fed him off the same fork, and for a split second, he couldn’t think of anything else. He quickly swallowed, trying to shake off the odd feeling that rushed through him.
Rosie, however, was oblivious to the effect she had on him. She smiled as she finished the last bite and then tossed the empty wrapper into the trash bin before taking his hand, dragging him toward the Ferris wheel’s entrance.
Once inside the cart, she leaned back, eyes sparkling with excitement. Katsuki sat beside her, the gentle hum of the Ferris wheel beginning to move them upwards into the night sky. The cool breeze ruffled his hair, and he tried to focus on the ride, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the moment when she’d fed him.
She suddenly reached into her purse, pulling out her phone, but then her face dropped into a pout. “Ah, it’s dead,” she said, staring at the blank screen.
Katsuki glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “So?”
Rosie’s lips curved into a playful smile as she turned to him. “Will you take some pictures of me on your phone and send them to me later? I want to remember tonight!”
Katsuki rolled his eyes but nodded, pulling out his phone without a second thought. He started snapping a few photos of her, despite the fact that he wasn’t exactly into taking pictures. He couldn’t stop staring at how the soft glow of the Ferris wheel lights reflected in her eyes, how the gentle breeze tugged at her hair, how her smile lit up the night sky.
The moon hung high above them, casting a soft glow on her face, and the stars twinkled like diamonds around them. Everything about her is annoyingly fucking perfect. Her entire presence seemed to soften the world around him, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, even as he clicked the camera button.
When she posed with a playful wink, her smile growing brighter as she raised her hand to cover her eyes from the lights, he snapped a few more photos. His chest tightened as he realized he wasn’t just taking them for her. He wanted to keep them for himself, to hold onto these moments. The idea of her smiling up at him, illuminated by the stars, felt like something he’d never want to forget.
“Alright, you’re good,” he said after a few minutes, trying to act unaffected, though his voice betrayed a hint of something deeper. He stared at his phone, the photos burning in his mind even as he reluctantly handed it back to her.
She took the phone, glancing at the photos he’d taken. “You did a good job,” she said with a grin, glancing back at him, and for a moment, their eyes locked.
He cleared his throat, trying to brush it off. “It’s just pictures, nothing special,” he muttered, though inside, he felt something he couldn’t quite explain.
She handed his phone back to him.
Rosie’s smile lingered, her gaze softening as she leaned back against the seat, content in the silence.
The group stood gathered at the exit of the amusement park, the night air cool and crisp as they all exchanged goodbyes, their laughter lingering in the air. Mina and Kirishima were already off to their cars, with Momo and Iida following close behind, all of them waving as they headed toward the parking lot.
"Thanks for a great night, everyone!" Uraraka called out with a cheerful grin, waving her hand. "We'll have to do this again sometime!"
"Definitely!" Tooru agreed. "This was amazing!"
But as the rest of the group began to disperse, Rosie lingered with her hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, a small smile on her face as she looked around at everyone. Katsuki watched her for a moment, leaning against a nearby railing, his arms crossed over his chest, clearly waiting for the right moment to approach. He had his own quiet reasons for wanting to stay behind, though his face remained its usual scowl.
Most of their classmates had already left, leaving just Rosie, Uraraka, Deku, Kirishima, Mina, Shot and himself behind.
"Are you ready, Rosie?" Uraraka asked with a smile
Before Rosie could say anything else, Katsuki spoke up again, his tone a bit more assertive than usual. "I can drive her home," he said, looking at the others, his gaze particularly lingering on Uraraka and Deku. "It’s near my place, anyway."
Uraraka, still chatting with Deku, looked over at him in surprise, then glanced at Rosie, who seemed caught off guard for a moment.
"Ah, that’s so sweet of you, Bakugou!" Uraraka beamed, her voice light. "I’m sure Rosie will appreciate that."
Katsuki could feel his face flush slightly at her comment but quickly masked it with a roll of his eyes. "Yeah, whatever," he muttered. "We’re not gonna make her walk home at this hour, are we?"
Rosie’s cheeks flushed, but she laughed nervously, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "It’s really kind of you, Katsuki," she said quietly, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. "Thank you."
"No problem," he grunted, already turning toward the parking lot, motioning for her to follow. "Let’s get going before everyone starts acting all sentimental."
Uraraka chuckled and waved at them as they started walking toward the exit, her smile softening. "Have a good night, you two!" she called after them, and the rest of the group echoed similar farewells.
Once they got into his car, Katsuki immediately cranked up the heater, noticing how Rosie still shivered in the cold night air. The warmth of the car helped, but he could still see the faint tremor in her shoulders as she curled up in the passenger seat, tucking herself further into the jacket he had given her.
As he pulled out of the parking lot, he made sure to drive slower than usual, his hands gripping the wheel with a little more tension than he cared to admit. The roads were quiet, the glow of the streetlights casting a soft halo over the car, but his mind was anything but calm. It wasn’t just the drive that weighed on him—it was everything leading up to this moment.
The previous night felt like it happened in a blur, but there were certain details that stuck with him, replaying over and over in his head. He had gone to the coffee shop, expecting nothing more than his usual caffeine fix, when he’d run into Rosie. He had no idea she'd be working that late.
However, he wasn’t about to let her walk home late at night by herself.
Which is how he found himself driving her home, which prompter her to invite him inside and do homework together.
That simple offer to study together turned into something else—something unexpected. He had never planned to be alone in her apartment, but somehow, he found himself sitting across from her, both of them with open notebooks and their laptops, sharing a quiet moment that felt oddly comfortable.
Something about it had felt...right.
His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he remembered the delivery guy that had shown up at her apartment. That asshole had no clue when to quit. The guy had flirted with her like he didn’t see the obvious signals—that Rosie wasn’t interested. He had just kept going, asking her out, not even picking up on how polite but distant she was being. Katsuki’s jaw clenched as he thought about the way the guy’s voice had grown more persistent, until, in a moment of pure frustration, Katsuki had done the only thing he could think of—he’d slammed the door in the guy’s face.
And for some reason, watching that delivery guy’s face fall as the door shut felt...satisfying. Maybe it was the way the guy had the audacity to keep pushing when it was obvious Rosie wasn’t into him, or maybe it was the way Katsuki didn’t care to hide his irritation. Either way, the whole thing had pissed him off more than he cared to admit, even to himself.
And what made it worse? Rosie hadn't even seemed to notice. She hadn’t noticed the guy’s advances, nor had she noticed the tension that had practically radiated off him.
She is so...oblivious.
The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he got. He didn’t know what to make of any of it—of the way he was around her, of the way things seemed to be shifting between them. It didn’t make sense. The universe had to be playing some kind of joke on him. First, the coffee shop. Then, last night. And now, here he was, driving her home again.
His grip on the wheel tightened further, his hand running through his hair in frustration. He didn’t know why this was all happening, why he felt this pull towards her, or why it bothered him so much when other guys flirted with her—hell, he barely even understood what the hell was going on with him.
He glanced over at her, seeing her peacefully asleep, her head resting against the window, her body curled up into a small ball as she still held onto his jacket. There was something about her that was so effortlessly... gentle, and it made him want to protect her, even if he didn’t fully understand why.
He couldn’t help but shake his head, letting out a deep sigh as he focused back on the road. Whatever this is, he thought, it better sort itself out soon, because I’m done thinking about it.
But even as he told himself that, a small part of him knew it wasn’t that simple. Nothing with Rosie ever seemed simple.
Katsuki parked in her designated spot, the quiet of the night settling over him as he cut the engine. He glanced over at Rosie, still fast asleep, her head gently resting against the window.
He stared at her for a moment, his fingers hovering over the screen of his phone before he took a quick photo of her sleeping form. The image was a rare, vulnerable moment of her—her face soft and relaxed, with her hair slightly tousled, tucked under the warmth of his jacket.
His mind raced for a second, but he shoved the thoughts down, shaking his head. What the hell am I doing?
With a sigh, he reached over and gently shook her shoulder, trying not to startle her too much. "Rosie... wake up, you're home."
She moaned softly, her body instinctively trying to burrow further into the jacket she wore, the warmth pulling her back into a deep sleep.
“Rosie...” Katsuki repeated, slightly more insistent. He could hear the drowsy hum of her voice as she slowly blinked her eyes open, looking at him with heavy lids.
"Katsuki?" she murmured, her voice thick with sleep. A yawn escaped her, and she stretched slightly, still trying to shake off the last traces of slumber.
“Yeah,” he said, voice softer than he intended. “You're home.”
Her bleary-eyed gaze softened as the fog of sleep lifted, and a small smile spread across her face. Before he knew it, she had already leaned over the console and hugged him, her arms wrapping around him in gratitude. Her touch, though warm, caught him off guard, and he froze for a second before gently patting her back.
“Thanks again,” she whispered against his shoulder, her voice still a little raspy.
He nodded, his heart pounding for reasons he didn’t want to think about. “No problem, just get some rest, alright?” he muttered gruffly.
Reluctantly, she pulled away from him, her smile still lingering on her face as she reached for the door. He was about to open his mouth to say something when she paused, pulling his jacket off to hand it back to him.
“Keep it for tomorrow,” he interrupted, voice a little softer than he’d intended. “You can give it to me later.”
Rosie smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling with warmth. “Alright, thanks again, Katsuki,” she said, and before he could say anything more, she opened the door and stepped out of the car.
He watched as she made her way towards the building, his eyes following her every step until she turned back at the entrance. She gave him a wave, her smile wide and carefree, before disappearing inside.
Katsuki stayed in the car for a moment longer, his fingers tapping against the wheel, fighting the urge to drive off. When the lobby doors closed behind her, he sighed, finally putting the car in gear.
It wasn’t until he was walking through his front door that his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, seeing her name flash on the screen.
Annoying but Pretty: Hey! Just wanted to let you know that I'm home, and thank you for everything tonight.
Katsuki’s lips twitched slightly as he typed back, It's late. You should get some rest.
A few moments later, her reply popped up, I'll see you tomorrow in class! Goodnight! :)
Katsuki: Goodnight
He stared at the message for a moment before putting his phone down on the table. His chest tightened, but he couldn’t place why.
He shook his head as if to clear the feeling, deciding it was nothing more than the tiredness from the long day. But somewhere deep down, he wasn’t so sure.
Katsuki's mood was as foul as it had ever been. He sat in his car for what felt like an eternity, staring out the window at nothing in particular. The parking lot at his university was quiet, save for the occasional person walking past, and the distant hum of the campus that was starting to wake up for the day. He was still half-dazed, trying to shake the lingering exhaustion from the night before. Five minutes passed before he finally shoved his backpack over his shoulder, slamming the door of his car shut with unnecessary force.
He was running late, and his brain felt like it was in a fog, every movement heavy and slow. He hadn't slept at all. Why?
Because the damn photos from the photo booth kept running through his mind. The way she had fallen into his lap, the warmth of her body against his. He had tried, really tried, to justify it to himself. It was nothing, just some dumb amusement park fun, he'd told himself over and over. But the way she looked at him, how her smile lit up when they posed for the next shot—it felt too right. Too damn good.
His lack of sleep and the restless thoughts swirling in his mind made it impossible for him to get any real rest. And now, with no coffee to help shake off the grogginess, he knew the day ahead was going to be an absolute nightmare.
He trudged into Aizawa's class, his footsteps heavier than usual, and immediately noticed he wasn't the only one exhausted. The room was quiet, the usual chatter absent as everyone slumped over in their seats, struggling to keep their eyes open. Some had their heads down, likely napping, while others were nursing large cups of coffee like they could already feel the effects of the night taking its toll on them.
Even Kirishima and Kaminari were passed out in their seats, and Katsuki couldn't help but smirk at the sight. At least nobody would be loud today.
He dropped into his seat with a thud, the exhaustion from the night before settling deeper into his bones. Pulling out his laptop, he set it on the desk but made no effort to open it. He was too tired to focus, his mind still too fuzzy.
The door opened, and Katsuki blinked, his attention snapping to the figure entering. It was Rosie, as tired as everyone else but still managing to look effortlessly beautiful. She was dressed in black leggings and a thick white oversized sweater, the soft fabric hanging loosely around her frame. In both hands, she held two large cups of coffee, and the moment she stepped into the room, he felt something tighten in his chest.
She climbed the steps with a slight groan and took the seat in front of him, dropping her things onto the desk before glancing back at him. Her voice was low, still rough with sleep, but when she spoke, it cut through his foggy mind.
“Katsuki?”
“Yea?” His voice was hoarse, as if speaking took too much energy.
She offered him one of the coffees with a tired smile, her eyes still half-lidded. "I brought this for you."
Katsuki didn’t hesitate, reaching forward and accepting the drink. Their hands brushed together, and for a second, he was aware of the warmth from her touch lingering on his skin. “Thanks,” he muttered, keeping his gaze on her for a moment longer than he probably should have.
She smiled at him again, this time a little more sleepy but still genuine, before slipping into her seat and taking a sip of her own coffee. She looked back at the board, ready to start the class despite the obvious exhaustion written on her face. He watched as she drank her coffee, her expression softening slightly as the warmth seemed to bring her back to life.
Katsuki took a long gulp from his cup, and once the bitter, black coffee hit his tongue, he realized just how much he’d needed it. His tiredness faded just a little, but it wasn’t enough to fully shake the fog in his head. Next time she asks me to do something, no matter how ridiculous it is, I’m saying yes, he thought absently. I’m not going through another day like this without some kind of backup.
The door swung open, and Aizawa strolled in, the class immediately growing quieter. Katsuki glanced up at the man, noticing how exhausted he looked as well. It seemed like the entire class had been through the wringer, but the sight of Aizawa only served as a reminder of the hell they were about to face.
“Hello, everyone,” Aizawa’s voice was flat, as usual, but there was an edge of tiredness in it. He didn’t waste any time setting his bag on the desk. “What the hell is wrong with all of you?”
Before anyone else could speak up, Rosie responded, her voice still a bit scratchy. “We all went out for some class bonding last night and didn’t get much sleep.”
Katsuki was pretty sure she was the only one who had the energy to actually answer, given that she and he were the only ones still semi-conscious.
“Where did you go?” Aizawa’s voice carried a hint of curiosity now, though his eyes remained half-lidded, clearly not thrilled with his class’s lack of energy.
“The amusement park in Yokohama,” Rosie replied with a smile that was brighter than it had any right to be for that early in the morning.
Aizawa blinked, and for the first time in forever, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Katsuki stared, utterly surprised. “Did you have fun?” Aizawa asked, his voice genuine in a way that almost made him seem like a completely different person.
“Yes!” Rosie chirped, her energy bouncing back despite the exhaustion.
Only she could manage to sound so chipper after such a long night. Katsuki couldn’t help but shake his head in disbelief.
Aizawa paused, looking over the class. “Class is cancelled then.” He picked up his bag, and everyone immediately perked up at the announcement. “Everyone, especially you, sunshine, go home and get some sleep. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
With that, Aizawa turned and left without another word, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.
As soon as he was gone, everyone let out a collective sigh of relief, and the quiet hum of the class returning to life filled the air. However, everyone was quick to pack their things and beeline it towards the door. Katsuki watched as Rosie packed up her things with a stretch, already looking a little more awake than before.
“Well,” she turned to him with a tired smile. “Looks like we’re going home early.”
Katsuki let out a low, almost amused chuckle, though it was tinged with exhaustion. “Perks of being the professor’s daughter.”
Rosie flashed him a grin, her eyes still heavy with sleep but bright enough to catch the teasing glint in his tone. “Indeed, since my chemistry class was also cancelled today.”
He raised an eyebrow, impressed. “Guess that makes you the golden child today, huh?”
She laughed softly, the sound light and airy despite how tired she was. As she packed up her things, Katsuki couldn't help but glance over at Kirishima. The big guy was sprawled out in his chair, snoring away loudly, and for a brief second, Katsuki debated whether or not he should leave him there. But that thought was quickly pushed aside—there was no way he was letting his idiot friend sleep here…no matter how funny it would be.
With a tired sigh, Katsuki kicked out his foot and gave Kirishima’s chair a solid nudge. The force sent the redhead tumbling to the floor with a loud thud, but Kirishima didn’t even stir, still blissfully unaware of his fall.
Katsuki rolled his eyes, shaking his head at the scene. “You’ve gotta be kidding me…”
With another annoyed sigh, he turned his attention to Kaminari, who was snoozing away in the chair next to him. Using his quirk on Kaminari, the small explosions scared Kaminari awake, causing him to use his own quirk, shocking Kirishima.
The shock also jolted Kirishima awake, who let out a groan as he rubbed his head, still not fully aware of what had just happened.
“What the hell, man?” Kaminari blinked, his hair sticking up from the shock, and he stared at Katsuki, who stood there with an unamused glare.
“You two are hopeless,” Katsuki grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down at them. “Get up. Class is cancelled”
Kaminari groaned, rubbing his temples. “Damn, that hurt! What did I do to deserve that?”
Kirishima slowly climbed to his feet, still half-dazed. “Did I just fall asleep on the floor? Ugh...”
Kirishima chuckled sheepishly, still not fully awake, and reached up to pat Kaminari on the back, almost knocking him out of his seat again. “You know we had a long night, right? It’s not our fault the sleep gods got us good this morning!”
“Shut up, you idiot,” Katsuki snapped, though his tone wasn’t as harsh as usual. “I’m not wasting my time babysitting you guys.”
“Whatever, man,” Kaminari grumbled, rubbing his neck. “You didn’t have to shock me, though. Could’ve just yelled at us like usual.”
“Yell? You guys wouldn't wake up to that, so I did what I had to.” Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, but the hint of a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Now get moving as you’re blocking my way.”
Both of them jumped up, now wide awake, though still dragging their feet. Kirishima scratched his head sheepishly. “I’m going home and getting back into bed.”
“Yeah, well, join the club,” Katsuki muttered under his breath as he walked toward the door. He glanced over his shoulder at Rosie, who was just finishing packing up her things. “You good?”
She nodded, offering him a tired but appreciative smile. “Yeah. Just trying to decide whether to tackle my chemistry homework now or wait until later.”
He raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. “You need help?”
Her cheeks flushed pink, her gaze shifting slightly. “Uh, yeah. I could definitely use some.”
He didn't even hesitate. “Then just come over to my place. I’ve got laundry to do, and I can help you get through it.”
At that moment, her stomach let out a loud growl, clearly protesting the lack of food. She laughed awkwardly, her face turning an even deeper shade of red. “I guess I’m more hungry than I realized…”
Katsuki smirked, shaking his head. “I have to stop by the grocery store. We can do that after we grab breakfast.”
She grinned, relieved. “That would be much appreciated.”
“Alright, let’s go. You’re not getting any work done until you eat, anyway,” he said, turning to lead the way.
Notes:
This chapter was based on when I went to community college, my friend was the daughter of the professor and sometimes he would cancel class just because she was too tired. Nobody complained about it so it was a great time, I miss that speech & communications class.
Chapter 10: Aizawa is going to murder him
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki pushed open the door to the grocery store, glancing back to make sure Rosie was following. She caught up quickly, her hands gripping the handle of a cart she had grabbed on the way in. She was still humming softly to herself, the tune barely audible but oddly calming.
"Stick close. I don’t have time to hunt you down if you wander off," he said gruffly, though there was no real bite to his tone.
She smirked, rolling her eyes. "I’m not a kid, Katsuki. I think I can manage a grocery store without getting lost."
“Sure,” he shot back, smirking. “You said the same thing in the haunted house.”
She flushed, narrowing her eyes but didn’t respond, instead pushing the cart forward with a little more force than necessary. He chuckled under his breath and started tossing items into the cart as they passed by the shelves—eggs, milk, bread, a variety of vegetables.
Rosie added her own contributions as they went. “Ooh, berries,” she said, grabbing a container of mixed berries and placing them carefully in the cart. “You can’t go wrong with these.”
“You’re like a damn squirrel,” Katsuki muttered, tossing a few packs of chicken into the cart. “Always grabbing random stuff.”
“Excuse me, berries are not random,” she defended, pouting slightly. “They’re a breakfast staple. Or a snack. Or dessert.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” he snorted, though his eyes softened as he glanced at her as she placed apples into the cart
By the time they reached the checkout, the cart was full, and Rosie insisted on helping bag the groceries despite Katsuki handling most of it. She smiled at the cashier, chatting briefly as Katsuki swiped his card and loaded up the bags.
Once they got back to his apartment, Katsuki immediately began unloading the groceries while Rosie settled on the couch, pulling out her books and laptop. After putting away the food, he grabbed his laundry basket from his room and started a load, all the while keeping an eye on her as she diligently typed away at her laptop.
She glanced up at him as he returned to the living room, carrying his own books. “Laundry done?”
“Started,” he said, dropping onto the couch beside her. He flipped open his laptop and pulled out a notebook, quickly getting to work. They sat in comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional sound of pages turning or fingers tapping on keyboards.
An hour passed before Rosie groaned, dropping her pen onto the coffee table. “Okay, I officially hate chemistry.”
Katsuki smirked, setting his laptop aside. “Let me see.”
She slid her notebook and textbook over to him, and he leaned forward, scanning her work. “You’re overcomplicating it,” he said, pointing to a formula she had scribbled in the margin. “Here—this part’s right, but you’re missing the next step.”
Rosie leaned closer, her shoulder brushing his as she watched him work through the problem. “Oh,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “That makes so much more sense. Why didn’t my professor explain it like that?”
“Because he’s not me,” Katsuki said, his lips quirking into a smirk.
“Fair point,” she laughed, jotting down notes as he continued to help her.
After another half hour of working through problems, her stomach growled again, prompting Katsuki to stand. “I’ll make lunch. You keep working.”
She nodded, but when he returned with plates of stir-fried vegetables and chicken over rice, her books were already packed up. “I’ll finish it later,” she said as he handed her a plate. “For now, food and a movie sound way better.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, setting his own plate down before grabbing the remote. He flipped through the options until Rosie pointed at a comedy.
As they ate, Rosie laughed at something funny, but he wasn’t paying attention, her relaxed expression making Katsuki’s chest feel oddly warm. He didn’t realize he’d been watching her more than the screen until she turned to him with a grin. “What? Got rice on my face?”
He quickly looked away, shoving another bite of food into his mouth. “Nothing. Just eat your food.”
Katsuki groaned as he slowly came to, the midday sunlight filtering through the blinds in his living room. He blinked a few times, his brain still foggy, before realizing he was on the couch. A quick glance at the clock on the wall confirmed it was nearly noon.
“Shit,” he muttered. He had class soon.
As he started to sit up, he froze, feeling the faint pressure of something warm and soft against him. Turning his head, he realized Rosie had fallen asleep partially on him, her head resting against his shoulder, her arm draped over his chest. Her breathing was slow and steady, her face relaxed in peaceful sleep.
He didn’t remember falling asleep during the movie, but it didn’t surprise him. Still, this—this was uncharted territory.
As much as he wanted to stay like this—a new and rare feeling—he had class and couldn’t afford to miss it.
Carefully, he shifted, doing his best not to wake her as he slid out from underneath her. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake, curling up more as she settled into the spot he had been. Katsuki stood, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared down at her.
“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath.
He is so royally fucked.
But he didn’t have time to dwell on whatever was happening right now. Class was waiting, and if he was late, his professor would chew him out. Grabbing his bag and slipping on his shoes, Katsuki paused by the couch, frowning.
He couldn’t just leave her like this.
With a sigh, he grabbed a blanket from his room and gently draped it over her, making sure her feet weren’t left uncovered. He hesitated then, his eyes lingering on her face. She looked so peaceful like this, her usual energy replaced by a rare stillness.
She looked too comfortable, too familiar in his apartment, and honestly, he couldn’t help but like the idea of coming back home to her.
Yeah.
Aizawa is going to murder him.
Katsuki shook his head, muttering under his breath as he forced himself to turn away. He locked the door behind him, pausing again before heading down the hall. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
It rang twice before Kirishima’s voice answered, groggy but cheerful. “Yo, bro, what’s up?”
“Kirishima,” Katsuki said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Silven Realm tonight. Just us.”
There was a pause. “Uh… okay? What time?”
“Six. Seven. I don’t care. Just make it happen.”
“Sure, man, but is everything okay?” Kirishima asked, clearly sensing something was off.
Katsuki sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Just need to talk.”
“Alright. I’ll meet you there,” Kirishima said, his tone firm but understanding. “See you tonight.”
“Later,” Katsuki said before hanging up.
As he headed to class, his thoughts kept drifting back to the image of Rosie sleeping on his couch, wrapped up in his blanket. He was in trouble, alright—but for once, he didn’t feel the urge to run from it.
The three hours Katsuki spent in class were pure torture. His mind was anywhere but on the lecture, every minute dragging painfully as his thoughts kept circling back to his apartment—to Rosie.
She hadn’t texted him, which only meant one thing: she was probably still asleep. A small part of him wondered if she’d woken up, seen she was alone, and left without saying anything. The thought annoyed him, though he couldn’t figure out why. All he knew was that the second his professor dismissed the class, he was out the door, moving with a purpose.
By the time he reached his apartment door, his heart was racing. Not from running, but from something he couldn’t put into words. Unlocking the door, he stepped in quietly, shutting it behind him. The space was still, the only sound coming from the faint hum of his fridge.
Dropping his bag onto the kitchen island, his sharp eyes scanned the room. Her bag was still by the couch, her shoes neatly placed by the door, and her notebook was sitting on the coffee table, right where she’d left it. But Rosie wasn’t there.
He frowned, his brows furrowing as he stepped further inside. “Rosie?” he called out, his voice low but clear. No answer.
His eyes darted to the bathroom—empty. The kitchen—nothing. A flicker of irritation mingled with concern as he moved toward the hall. Then he saw it: the door to his bedroom was wide open.
He froze for a moment before stepping closer, his heart doing something weird in his chest. Leaning against the doorframe, he glanced inside—and his breath caught in his throat.
There she was.
Rosie was sprawled across his bed, fast asleep. She was curled up beneath the blanket he’d draped over her earlier, though it was slightly tangled with his comforter now. One hand rested on the pillow, her face half-buried in it, her soft breaths barely audible.
For a moment, he just stood there, taking it in. His room wasn’t big, but seeing her there, in the middle of it, made it feel... different. He couldn’t put his finger on it.
What he did know was that this was a first.
He’d had girls in his apartment before—sure. But it was never like this. Those times were just sex, and always ended the same way. No one stayed. He didn’t let them. As soon as things were done, he’d call them a cab. His apartment, his space, wasn’t for lingering.
And yet, here was Rosie. Not just in his apartment but in his bed. Not for sex, not for anything like that—just sleeping. Completely at ease, wrapped up in his things.
The sight did something to him. Something he didn’t like admitting, even to himself.
He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms as he watched her. She looked so small like this, her face soft and relaxed. Her hair was a little messy from sleep, a few strands sticking to her cheek. She shifted slightly, letting out a quiet sigh as she burrowed deeper into the blankets.
He rubbed the back of his neck, exhaling through his nose. What the hell was she doing to him?
A part of him wanted to wake her, to tease her for making herself so comfortable in his space. But another part—the louder part—wanted to let her sleep, to keep standing there and watching her like some kind of idiot.
He ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath, “I’m so screwed.”
After a moment, he pushed off the doorframe, stepping back. She looked too peaceful to disturb. He’d let her sleep a little longer. He could figure out how to deal with whatever the hell was happening later.
When he could drink a beer and try to figure out what the hell was happening since that was a common question he was asking himself since he met her.
“Katsuki…?”
The soft voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned sharply, spatula in hand, to see a disheveled Rosie leaning against the kitchen doorway. Her hair was messy, her eyes half-lidded with sleep as she rubbed at one of them.
Adorable.
He blinked, trying to suppress the thought as he turned back to the stove. “You’ve been sleeping since eleven or so,” he muttered, flipping the stir-fry he was making.
“Really?” she yawned, stretching slightly as she shuffled closer. “I’m sorry. You should’ve woken me up—or kicked me out.”
He rolled his eyes, not even sparing her a glance. “I’m not kicking you out. Don’t be stupid.”
“That smells delicious,” she hummed, peeking over his shoulder. He could feel the heat of her presence as she stood close, her head tilted curiously. “You’re an amazing cook.”
His hand faltered for just a second, and he felt his face warm despite himself. “Thanks,” he said, keeping his gaze firmly on the pan.
Rosie didn’t seem to notice, thankfully, and she stepped back slightly. “What can I do to help?”
“Get plates,” he said quickly, nodding toward the cabinet.
She moved easily, grabbing the plates and setting them on the counter. Katsuki watched her from the corner of his eye as she worked, navigating his kitchen like it was second nature. She didn’t hesitate, her movements smooth as she pulled out utensils and set the table. It was weird—having someone else in his space, using his things—but with her, it felt... right.
Shaking off the thought, he plated the food and brought it to the table, sliding a plate in front of her before sitting down.
Rosie took a bite, her eyes lighting up immediately. “This is amazing, Katsuki!”
He grunted, taking a bite of his own. “Any idiot can cook.”
She laughed softly, her voice warm. “Not every idiot can cook like this. My dad can barely make toast without setting off the smoke alarm.”
That caught his attention, and he raised an eyebrow. “Your dad can’t cook?”
“Nope,” she said, popping another bite into her mouth with a grin. “I’ve been the designated chef in the house since I was ten.”
He snorted, surprised but amused. “Figures.”
She giggled, her laugh soft and infectious. He didn’t say anything else, but a small part of him found it nice—this quiet moment, sharing a meal with her.
When they finished eating, Rosie leaned back in her chair with a satisfied sigh. “That was so good. Thank you.”
He stood, grabbing the plates and stacking them. “I’ll take you home.”
She blinked, glancing at the clock. “Oh, I didn’t realize it was this late. Let me grab my stuff.”
As she moved to the living room, Katsuki went to his room to change. He swapped out his casual sweatpants for black jeans, a black T-shirt, and a leather jacket. By the time he came out, Rosie was at the door, her bag slung over her shoulder.
“You ready?” he asked.
She nodded, smiling. “Yep.”
The drive to her apartment was quiet but comfortable. When they arrived, she hesitated for a moment before looking at him. “Thanks for everything today, Katsuki. Really.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, avoiding her gaze. “Text me when you get inside your apartment.”
“Text you later then,” she waved as she got out, and he waited until she was inside before pulling away, heading straight for Silven Realm.
By the time he got to the bar, it was bustling with the usual crowd. Katsuki made his way to the second floor, finding an empty seat at the counter. He ordered a beer, taking a long swig just as a familiar voice called out.
“Bakugou!”
He glanced over to see Kirishima rushing up the stairs, panting slightly as he reached him. “Man, sorry I’m a bit late. Mina’s parents came over.”
“It’s fine,” Katsuki muttered, smirking slightly as Kirishima slid onto the stool beside him.
“You’re in a mood,” Kirishima teased, ordering his own drink. “Rough day or something?”
Katsuki took another swig of his beer, his mind flickering back to Rosie despite his efforts to focus on the conversation at hand. “Something like that,” he muttered.
Kirishima ordered his drink, glancing at Katsuki with his usual, easy-going grin. “So, what’s up, man? You seemed pretty eager to meet tonight.”
Katsuki leaned on the bar, gripping his bottle tightly. “I think you were right.”
Kirishima blinked in surprise, his grin widening. “Right about what?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Katsuki growled, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Gonna need you to spell it out for me, bro,” Kirishima teased, though his smirk gave away that he already knew.
Katsuki let out a low, frustrated sigh, staring at the counter as if the answer to his problems was etched into the wood. Finally, he muttered, “I like Rosie.”
Kirishima nearly choked on his drink. “I fucking knew it!” He slapped Katsuki on the back with a hearty laugh. “What finally clued you in?”
Katsuki hesitated, a faint flush creeping up his neck. “When she was on top of m—”
“You had sex with Aizawa’s daughter?!” Kirishima whisper-shouted, eyes wide in horror. “Are you insane?!”
Katsuki whipped his head toward him, eyes narrowing dangerously. “I didn’t have sex with her, dumbass! We fell asleep on the couch after eating. Somehow, when I got up for class, she ended up on top of me. And when I came back, she was asleep in my bed.”
Kirishima leaned back, clearly holding back another laugh. “Holy shit. You’ve got it bad, man.”
Katsuki glared at him, irritation sparking in his crimson eyes. “No shit. You don’t think I’ve figured that out?”
“So… what are you gonna do about it?”
Katsuki sighed, dragging a hand over his face. “No fucking clue. Never liked a girl like this before.”
“What about Aizawa?”
“No fucking clue,” Katsuki repeated, his voice dripping with frustration.
Kirishima chuckled, taking another swig of his beer. “Well, heads up, man—Shinso’s planning on asking her out in a couple of weeks.”
The bottle in Katsuki’s hand tightened. “Tch. Doesn’t matter. She’s oblivious.”
“What do you mean?”
“Delivery guy the other night was hitting on her, asking her out. She didn’t even notice,” Katsuki said, his lips twitching into a scowl at the memory. “Almost felt bad for the loser, but he pissed me off, so I slammed the door in his face.”
Kirishima burst out laughing, nearly spilling his drink. “I never thought I’d see the day you get jealous.”
Katsuki didn’t respond, simply glaring at his beer as if it was to blame for his predicament.
After a moment, he asked quietly, “How’d you know? That I liked her, I mean.”
Kirishima smiled, his voice softening with honesty. “It wasn’t hard to figure out, man. You look at her on the first day like she’s All Might himself. You’ve never looked at anyone, much less a chick, like that before. I just figured it’d take you a while to stop denying it.”
Katsuki let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in his chair. “Don’t know what the hell I’m gonna do.”
Kirishima shrugged, his tone casual. “Keep doing what you’re doing. Hang out with her—alone or in group stuff. But if you’re planning to keep it a secret from Aizawa, you’d better be careful, man. That guy’s got eyes everywhere.”
Katsuki grunted, finishing his beer. “Tch. Easier said than done.”
Kirishima grinned, raising his glass in a mock toast. “You’ll figure it out. If anyone’s got the guts to date Aizawa’s daughter, it’s you dude.”
How does one date the daughter of their professor?
Walking into class with Kirishima on Friday, Katsuki sipped his coffee, half-listening as his friend rambled on about their plans for game night. It was going to be at his apartment, which was fine—he’d gotten used to hosting their chaotic hangouts.
“…and I’m thinking we try that new game Denki keeps going on about,” Kirishima said, his hands gesturing animatedly.
Katsuki grunted in response, his eyes flicking toward the classroom entrance as Kirishima suddenly stopped mid-sentence.
“Hey, babe!”
Kirishima’s tone shifted, and Katsuki turned to see Mina standing outside the classroom, her usual bright smile lighting up her face.
“Good morning!” Mina greeted cheerfully, skipping up to Kirishima and planting a quick kiss on his lips.
Katsuki rolled his eyes at the familiar sight. After two years of their relationship, he’d grown immune to their overly affectionate displays.
Mina, however, turned her sharp grin toward him, her voice teasing as always. “Good morning, Bakugou!”
“Morning,” he muttered, taking another swig of his coffee.
“Oh, by the way,” Mina added with a knowing smirk. “Rosie’s already here!”
Katsuki’s grip on his cup tightened slightly as he turned to glare at Kirishima. “You told her?”
Kirishima shrugged, clearly unfazed. “Come on, man. Mina’s my girlfriend. She’s not just anybody.”
Mina chimed in, holding up her hands defensively, though her grin didn’t waver. “Relax, Bakugou. Your secret’s safe with me.”
Before Katsuki could retort, Mina’s attention shifted. “Oh, there’s Rosie!” she said, practically bouncing as she left them to join Rosie, who was chatting with Uraraka and Tsui near the classroom.
Katsuki’s eyes involuntarily followed her. Rosie was wearing white skinny jeans and a soft pink sweater, her smile as radiant as ever as she laughed at something Uraraka said. He quickly tore his gaze away, scowling into his coffee.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.
Kirishima clapped a hand onto his shoulder, laughing. “It doesn’t get easier, man.”
As if on cue, Rosie waved goodbye to the girls and started walking toward them, her smile bright and disarming. “Good morning!”
Kirishima grinned back. “Morning, Rosie! You still coming to game night tonight?”
Her eyes lit up, excitement clear in her expression. “Yes! I’m super excited! It’ll be my first time at one of your game nights. Should I bring anything?”
“Nah, just bring yourself,” Kirishima said, throwing an arm around her shoulders in a friendly gesture.
Katsuki’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched the interaction. Kirishima shot him a smirk while Rosie just remained oblivious.
Rosie turned her gaze to him, her tone soft and casual. “I might have to leave early, though, because of Maya.”
He snorted, his mouth moving before his brain caught up. “Bring the yapper.”
Rosie blinked, her face lighting up with surprise. “Really?”
Katsuki froze for a second, inwardly cursing himself. Did he really just suggest she bring her little fluffball to his apartment? He grunted, shifting uncomfortably as a faint warmth crept up his neck. “I just said you could, didn’t I?”
Her face broke into an even bigger smile, her excitement almost infectious. “That’s amazing, Katsuki! Thank you!”
He looked away, stuffing his free hand into his pocket. “Yeah, whatever.”
Kirishima bit back a laugh, giving Katsuki a pointed look. “Man, you’re really pulling out all the stops, huh?”
“Shut up, Shitty Hair,” Katsuki growled, though his gaze flicked briefly back to Rosie, who was still beaming.
“Oh, Kirishima!” Rosie’s eyes lit up as she turned toward him, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I loved that movie you recommended in your post last night. It was amazing!”
Kirishima’s grin widened as he looked down at her, his arm still draped over her shoulders. “You actually watched it?! No way! Wasn’t it awesome? Real manly, right?”
She nodded enthusiastically, her hands gesturing as she spoke. “Completely! That scene with the hero holding back the collapsing building? So intense! And the soundtrack was incredible—I’ve been listening to it all morning.”
Katsuki, trailing just a few steps behind them, frowned slightly, his ears perking up despite himself. They followed each other on Linked?
As the pair continued chatting, Katsuki felt an odd pang of irritation. He didn’t know why, but the sight of Rosie and Kirishima laughing and bonding over something so effortlessly rubbed him the wrong way. It wasn’t like he didn’t want her to get along with his friends—hell, she already fit in seamlessly. But still, something about it—her—made him feel... off balance.
“So, did you catch the little detail in the end credits?” Kirishima asked, his voice rising with excitement. “A lot of people miss it on their first watch.”
Rosie’s face scrunched in thought for a moment before she gasped. “You mean the thing with the hero’s shield? I caught it! I had to rewind to make sure, but it was such a cool nod to the sequel!”
Kirishima laughed, giving her shoulder a playful squeeze. “Man, you’ve got a good eye! Most people wouldn’t have noticed unless they’re super into it like me.”
Katsuki scowled, gripping the strap of his backpack tighter as he walked behind them. Great, now they’re geeking out together. What’s next? Movie nights? Inside jokes?
As they approached the classroom door, Rosie glanced over her shoulder at Katsuki, her smile softening. “You should watch it too, Katsuki. I think you’d really like it.”
He grunted, brushing past them into the classroom without making eye contact. “Maybe.”
Rosie exchanged a quick look with Kirishima, her brow furrowing slightly. “Did I say something wrong?”
Kirishima just laughed, shaking his head. “Nah, don’t mind him. That’s just how he is. He probably already watched the movie and doesn’t want to admit he liked it.”
Rosie giggled at the thought, her earlier concern fading as she slipped out from under Kirishima’s arm and towards her row in front of them. Katsuki, slouched in his chair, glancing at the pair through his peripheral vision as they continued their lively conversation.
She’s just being nice, he told himself, taking a swig from his coffee. But deep down, the flicker of jealousy refused to be ignored.
Jealous over the fact that Kirishima made friends so easily, at how Kirishima seemed to effortlessly interact with Rosie. While he struggled.
He is so fucked.
Notes:
Another Fun fact, in high school y friend and I had game night on Fridays and Saturdays every week, the only times we didn't were for spring break or summer<3
Chapter 11: You’re like a mini Eraserhead
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
As Rosie packed her things into her bag, she slung it over her shoulder and started making her way toward her dad, who waited for her near the classroom door. She barely made it a few steps before Kirishima called out to her.
“Rosie! You joining us for lunch?” he asked, his arm slung casually around Mina’s shoulders. Katsuki trailed behind them, hands stuffed into his pockets, wearing his usual scowl.
Rosie turned back to face them, smiling apologetically. “Not today. I’m having lunch with my dad,” she said, gesturing toward Aizawa. “But I’ll join you guys on Monday!”
“It’s a date!” Mina grinned brightly, giving her an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
Before she could walk away, Kirishima stepped forward, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Uh, hey, Mr. Aizawa! Mind if I ask you something?”
Aizawa glanced at him with a raised brow, his expression neutral. “Go ahead.”
Kirishima hesitated for a second, then blurted, “How is Rosie your kid?”
Rosie stifled a giggle as Aizawa sighed heavily, rubbing his temple. “I think that makes it one hundred and seven,” she teased, looking at her dad with a mischievous glint in her eye.
“Yup,” Aizawa replied flatly, running a hand through his hair.
“One hundred and seven what?” Mina asked, her curiosity piqued.
“How many people have asked Dad or me how we’re related,” Rosie said with a chuckle.
“She took after her mother in looks and personality,” Aizawa replied matter-of-factly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “The only thing she inherited from me is her love for horror movies and her impeccable taste in music.”
Rosie snorted. “That’s not all I got from you.” She turned her attention to Katsuki, who was standing silently to the side, watching the exchange with narrowed eyes. “Katsuki, use your quirk.”
He frowned but complied, raising his hand and letting a small series of explosions crackle in his palm. But almost instantly, they fizzled out, like a candle being snuffed. His gaze snapped back to Rosie, whose blue eyes were now glowing faintly as her hair floated gently around her.
“Holy crap!” Kirishima exclaimed, his jaw practically hitting the floor. “You’re like a mini Eraserhead!”
“You sound like Uncle Mic,” Rosie said with a giggle as she deactivated her quirk. Her hair settled back in place, and her eyes returned to normal. “Dad and I share some traits, but yeah, I mostly take after my mom.”
“That is so cool!” Mina squealed, clapping her hands together excitedly. “I didn’t know you had a kid, Mr. Aizawa! Why didn’t you ever talk about her?”
Aizawa let out another long sigh, glancing at Rosie before answering. “Because I wanted to protect her. When I was still active as a pro hero, I didn’t want her getting caught up in my work or targeted because of me. Even after I retired and became a teacher, I was so used to keeping her a secret that... I just never thought about changing that.”
Rosie softened, stepping closer to her dad and nudging him lightly with her shoulder. “He’s always been protective. A little too much sometimes, but I get it.”
“You could’ve warned us, though,” Kirishima said, laughing nervously. “I mean, finding out you’ve got a kid with freaking Erasure powers is kind of a shock!”
Mina grinned. “It’s like she’s a secret superhero! You’re even cooler than I thought, Rosie!”
Rosie blushed slightly, waving her hands dismissively. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
Katsuki, who had remained silent through the whole exchange, finally spoke up, his voice gruff. “It is a big deal. That quirk’s no joke.”
Rosie blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected praise, but before she could respond, Aizawa blinked tiredly. “Is that all your questions?”
“Basically,” Kirishima grinned
“Let’s get going,” Aizawa placed a hand on her lower back, leading her towards the door. “See you guys monday.”
As Rosie and Aizawa walked out of the school building, she tucked her bag over her shoulder and glanced at her dad. “What did you want to grab for lunch?”
“I was thinking steak,” Aizawa replied as they approached his car.
Rosie rolled her eyes, laughing softly. “Your answer is always steak. You’re so predictable, Dad.”
He gave her a side-eye glance but said nothing, unlocking the car. Once they were seated and on their way, the conversation turned to her classes.
“So,” Aizawa started, keeping his eyes on the road. “How are classes going?”
“They’re great,” Rosie replied, brightening. “I’m doing really well, actually. I aced my last project, and my professors have been super encouraging.”
He gave a small nod. “Good. That’s what I like to hear.”
Rosie smiled at the praise. They continued to chat casually until they arrived at the steakhouse, a small, cozy place Aizawa frequented. Once they were seated and their orders placed, Rosie took a sip of her drink and looked at her dad curiously.
“So,” she began, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. “Are you dating anyone?”
Aizawa paused mid-reach for his glass of water, leveling her with a dry stare. “You’re about as subtle as your mother was.”
Rosie rolled her eyes, unfazed. “You haven’t had a girlfriend since Mom, and you’re not getting any younger.”
Aizawa leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Are you that eager for me to get a girlfriend?”
Rosie poked at her salad with her fork, avoiding his gaze. Her voice softened. “I just want you to be happy. I know you still feel guilty about how things ended with Mom, and how you try to make up for missing her pregnancy and me being born.”
Aizawa’s expression shifted slightly, the faintest flicker of emotion crossing his face.
Rosie finally looked up at him, her blue eyes sincere. “I know you and Mom still loved each other even after you broke up, but she wouldn’t want you to be alone, Dad. So yes, I’m going to keep pushing you to date. And if you don’t make an effort, I’ll make you a dating profile myself and see what happens.”
Aizawa sighed heavily, shaking his head. “Is that your way of telling me I’m getting old?”
Rosie snorted, finally breaking the tension. “You’re still handsome, Dad. No matter how old you get.”
Aizawa rolled his eyes but smirked faintly. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”
Their conversation shifted as their food arrived, and Aizawa took a bite of his steak before glancing at her. “What about you? Are you interested in anyone?”
“Nope,” Rosie said too quickly, taking a sip of her wine.
Aizawa narrowed his eyes at her, suspicious.
She tried to hide her grin but ended up snorting into her glass. “Even if I was, I wouldn’t tell you, Dad. Besides, I don’t think anyone wants to date the daughter of the former pro hero Eraserhead. When people find out you’re my dad, they either get this terrified look in their eyes or start fanboying over you.”
Aizawa smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Damn right they should.”
Rosie laughed, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re my daughter,” he replied with a small grin.
Rosie had just been dropped off at her apartment. After feeding Maya, she glanced at the clock. It was only twelve, which meant she still had plenty of time before heading over to Katsuki’s place for game night. Kanako would be coming over in just over an hour, leaving Rosie with enough time to take Maya to the nearby dog park.
“Ready to go for a walk?” she asked, smiling down at her dog.
Maya immediately perked up, standing on her hind legs and twirling in a circle before hopping excitedly.
Laughing softly, Rosie grabbed Maya’s leash, her headphones, and her phone. After leashing her dog, she locked the door and headed out. The dog park wasn’t far, and Maya trotted along happily beside her.
Once they arrived, Rosie entered the fenced-in area and unhooked Maya’s leash. The small dog barked excitedly and bolted off, joining a group of dogs chasing one another around the grass. Rosie smiled, watching her for a moment before sitting down on one of the benches. Pulling out her phone, she checked her notifications, only to see a new text pop up.
Katsuki: Game night starts at six.
Rosie: Thanks.
After a pause, another text came through.
Katsuki: How was lunch?
Rosie: Great. My dad wanted steak again.
Katsuki: Great choice.
Rosie snorted, shaking her head. Of course Katsuki would say that.
Rosie: Why am I not surprised?
She smiled as the three dots appeared, indicating he was typing again.
Katsuki: ‘Cause steak is the best. What are you up to?
Rosie: Took Maya to the park. Letting her burn off some energy before tonight. What about you?
Katsuki: At the gym. What do you think?
Rosie: Wow, big shocker.
She snapped a photo of Maya tugging at a rope toy with another dog, her tiny frame determined as she held her ground against a much larger golden retriever.
Rosie: Here’s Maya winning at life right now.
She sent the picture and leaned back on the bench, watching as the other dogs joined in the tug-of-war. It didn’t take long for his reply.
Katsuki: That tiny thing’s got fight.
Rosie: She takes after her owner. 😉
Katsuki: Oh, please. You wouldn’t last five minutes in the gym with me.
Rosie: Don’t tempt me. I could handle it.
Katsuki: Tch. Yeah, okay.
Rosie rolled her eyes, grinning at his usual bluntness.
Rosie: We’ll see. I might surprise you one day.
Katsuki: Sure. Bring the yapper next time too. She’d probably do better than you.
Laughing, Rosie shook her head, typing her reply.
Rosie: Rude. But I’ll let it slide since I know you secretly love her.
Katsuki: Keep dreaming.
Rosie smiled at the screen, feeling a lightness in her chest as she slipped her phone back into her pocket. Maya ran up to her a moment later, panting and wagging her tail, looking proud of herself.
“Alright, baby. You ready to head home?” Rosie asked, clipping the leash back onto Maya’s collar.
With one last look at the other dogs, Maya barked in agreement, and the two of them headed out of the park.
Once back in her apartment, Rosie unleashed Maya, who immediately bolted to her water bowl. Rosie chuckled at her dog's enthusiasm. Before she could grab her phone to reply to Katsuki, the doorbell rang.
Opening the door, she found Kanako standing there, her blue hair braided to perfection and her dark brown eyes sparkling with excitement. Kanako’s style was effortlessly chic, pairing a cropped lavender sweater with high-waisted jeans and ankle boots.
“Ready?” Kanako asked with a grin.
“Let me grab my purse,” Rosie replied, stepping aside to let her in. She grabbed her phone and keys, slipping them into her pink purse before joining her friend.
Their first stop was a smoothie shop near the mall. Rosie sipped on a berry blend while Kanako opted for strawberry-banana.
“This is perfect,” Kanako sighed, relishing her smoothie as they walked into the bustling mall. “Alright, first stop—clothes!”
As they browsed the racks, Kanako launched into a story about her most recent dating disaster.
“So, get this,” she began, holding up a flowy sundress. “I’m out with this guy, and it’s going great. Dinner, drinks, the works. Then his girlfriend shows up at the bar.”
Rosie winced. “Oh no. I’m so sorry, Kanako.”
Kanako waved it off, shaking her head. “Not your fault. The guy was a total sleaze. I just blocked him and moved on. Not worth my time.” She smiled wryly. “But seriously, is it that hard to find someone decent?”
Rosie smiled sympathetically as they moved to another rack. Kanako held up a sleek strapless leather dress, her eyes lighting up.
“Oh, this is stunning! I have to try this on,” Kanako declared, darting toward the fitting rooms.
Rosie waited outside, sipping her smoothie until Kanako emerged, spinning around in the dress.
“What do you think?”
“It looks amazing on you,” Rosie said honestly.
Kanako grinned, looking at her reflection. Then she turned to Rosie with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Your turn.”
“What?” Rosie blinked.
Kanako grabbed another strapless leather dress in Rosie’s size and thrust it at her. “You have to try this on. It’ll look incredible on you.”
Rosie’s cheeks flushed. “I don’t know, Kanako… It’s not my style.”
“Nonsense! Trust me, Rosie. You’ll look hot. Go!” Kanako practically shoved her toward the fitting rooms.
A few minutes later, Rosie stepped out, tugging at the hem of the dress self-consciously. The tight leather hugged her curves, and the strapless design showed off her shoulders.
Kanako’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god, Rosie! You look incredible!”
Rosie blushed furiously. “It’s not really my style…”
“It should be!” Kanako insisted. “I would fuck you.”
“Kanako!” Rosie hissed, her cheeks burning even more.
Kanako smirked. “Just saying.”
They laughed and shopped a little longer before heading back to Rosie’s apartment with their purchases.
Back at the apartment, Rosie hung up her new clothes while Kanako flopped onto her bed, sipping the last of her smoothie. Her gaze wandered to a jacket draped over a chair.
“Whose jacket is that?” Kanako asked, sitting up.
Rosie froze for a moment before looking at it. “Oh, um… That’s Katsuki’s.”
“Cutie Mcblondie? That’s his name?” Kanako raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming. “And why, pray tell, do you have Katsuki’s jacket?”
Rosie busied herself tidying her dresser, her face turning bright red. “He gave it to me when we went to the amusement park with everyone the other night. It got cold, and he, uh, let me borrow it.”
Kanako’s smirk widened. “That’s adorable. You should totally let him jump your bones.”
Rosie whipped around, her blush deepening. “Kanako!”
“What? He’s hot, Rosie, and he looks like he knows what he’s doing in the bedroom. I’m just saying.”
Rosie shook her head, covering her face with her hands. “You’re ridiculous.”
Kanako just laughed, flopping back onto the bed. “I’m not wrong, though.”
Rosie groaned but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. Her eyes drifted to the collage above her desk. It was a mix of memories—a photo of her mom, a candid of her dad mid-yawn, and countless snapshots of Maya in various silly poses. Interspersed among them were photos of her classmates, photostrips of her and Katsuki from the amusement park, and even the ticket stubs from that night pinned neatly beside them.
“What does one even wear to a game night?” Rosie mused aloud, standing in front of her closet. Her wardrobe was a sea of pinks, whites, and the occasional black. Nothing screamed game night at Katsuki’s.
Kanako, sprawled on Rosie’s bed, smirked. “Depends. Are you going out or staying in?”
“It’s at Katsuki’s,” Rosie said, knowing full well the look that would spark in Kanako’s eye.
“Perfect!” Kanako shot up from the bed, eyes gleaming with mischief. She marched over to the closet and started digging through Rosie’s clothes.
Rosie shook her head with a laugh. “You’re impossible.”
“And you smell like dog,” Kanako shot back, holding up a pale pink sweater and giving it a critical look before tossing it aside.
“That’s not true!” Rosie lifted her arm and sniffed her sleeve, only to wince. “Okay, maybe you have a point.”
“Go shower,” Kanako said firmly, shooing her toward the bathroom. “I’ll handle everything else. Trust me.”
When Rosie emerged from the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a towel and her face flushed from the heat, Kanako was sitting cross-legged on the bed, her arsenal of makeup and hair tools spread out in front of her.
“Come here,” Kanako said, patting the stool in front of the vanity.
Rosie obeyed, sitting down as Kanako unwrapped her towel and started combing through her damp hair.
“Why do you always insist that Katsuki likes me?” Rosie asked, watching Kanako’s reflection in the mirror.
Kanako paused for a moment, then smirked. “Because he does. It’s a gut feeling. And my gut’s never wrong.”
Rosie rolled her eyes. “Your gut also told you that guy from the café was single, and look how that turned out.”
“That was one time!” Kanako said, feigning offense. She separated a section of Rosie’s hair and began blow-drying it. “Besides, Katsuki is different. Have you seen the way he looks at you? Like he’s trying not to smile but can’t help it?”
Rosie snorted. “Katsuki doesn’t smile.”
“He does when you’re not looking,” Kanako said knowingly. “You should believe me on this.”
Rosie bit her lip, her cheeks warming. “I don’t know, Kanako. He’s just…Katsuki. He’s grumpy with everyone.”
“True,” Kanako agreed, setting the blow dryer down and picking up a curling iron. “But he’s less grumpy with you. That says something.”
As Kanako worked on curling her hair into loose waves, she kept up her teasing, making Rosie blush and laugh in equal measure. Once her hair was done, Kanako turned her attention to her makeup.
“Nothing too crazy,” Rosie warned, watching as Kanako reached for a palette.
“Relax, I’m going for ‘effortlessly pretty,’ not ‘runway model,’” Kanako said, dabbing a soft pink blush onto Rosie’s cheeks.
When she was finished, Rosie looked at herself in the mirror and blinked. Her hair was styled in perfect waves, and her makeup was subtle but enhanced her features beautifully.
“You’re a magician,” Rosie said, genuinely impressed.
Kanako grinned. “I know. Now, let’s pick an outfit that’ll knock Katsuki’s socks off.”
“Kanako!” Rosie groaned, but she couldn’t help laughing as her friend dove back into her closet with determination.
Notes:
hope you enjoyed the chapter!
Chapter 12: That perv Mineta was right about one thing.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The atmosphere in Katsuki’s apartment was lively but controlled, just as he liked it. He moved with precision, setting out bowls of chips, pretzels, and popcorn on the island in the kitchen. Beside them, he lined up soda cans, a few beers, and a bottle of sparkling water for anyone who wanted something lighter. Across the room, Kaminari was hunched over the sound system, flipping through playlists.
“Something chill, Kaminari,” Katsuki barked, not looking up from arranging the snacks.
“Chill? You wound me, man!” Kaminari teased but obligingly settled on a playlist with upbeat, mellow tracks.
At the other end of the apartment, Deku and Icy Hot were unpacking board games, chatting quietly about strategy while Mina, Uraraka, and Momo sat on the couch in the living room, laughing about something Mina had just said.
Katsuki glanced at the clock on the wall. It was a little after six. He frowned, his gaze drifting to his phone sitting on the counter. Rosie still wasn’t here. A part of him itched to text her, but he hesitated, fingers twitching at his sides.
“You’re going to break your phone if you hold it any tighter,” Kirishima said from behind him, his voice light with humor.
Katsuki shoved the phone back into his pocket with a scowl and stalked to the fridge, pulling out a beer. “No idea what the hell you’re talking about.”
Kirishima chuckled, leaning casually against the island. “You miss Rosie,” he teased in a conspiratorial whisper.
“Shut up.” Katsuki cracked the beer open, about to fire off a retort when the doorbell rang.
He froze for a second, then bolted down the hallway, running a hand through his hair to make it look less messy. With a quick twist of the lock, he opened the door to see Rosie standing there.
She was holding her white fluffball, Maya, in one arm, her pink purse slung over her shoulder. Her lips glistened softly under the hallway light, and her signature perfume—a mix of rainwater, berries, and roses—hit him as she smiled up at him.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said, her voice warm and easy. “I had to take her out first.”
“You’re fine,” Katsuki said quickly, stepping aside to let her in. “We haven’t started yet.”
As she walked past him, her scent lingering in the air, he couldn’t help but notice her outfit. Short leather shorts that hugged her perfectly, giving him a view he wished he could unsee for the sake of his sanity. His hand twitched to his side, and he swore under his breath.
Rosie bent down to set Maya on the floor, giving him an even better view as the fabric of her shorts stretched across her ass.
Get it together, he scolded himself, dragging his gaze away.
“It’s Maya!” Mina’s excited squeal snapped him out of it. Rosie barely had time to straighten up before Mina darted over, pulling her into a hug. “Which means Rosie is here!” Mina exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch.
The other girls quickly joined in, turning the living room into a flurry of hugs and laughter as Rosie greeted each of them. Maya barked happily, padding around to greet the others as well.
Katsuki sighed, retreating to the kitchen to grab his beer. Kirishima was still leaning against the island, a smug grin plastered across his face.
“What?” Katsuki grumbled, glaring at him.
“I peeked into the hall just to see you staring at her ass, man,” Kirishima said, smirking.
Katsuki groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Shut it.”
“Relax, dude,” Kirishima said, laughing. “We’ve all done it before.”
Katsuki ran a hand through his hair, “But you know what? That perv Mineta was right about one thing.”
Kirishima frowned, raising an eyebrow, taking a swig of his beer. “And what’s that?”
“She has a perfect ass.” Katsuki glanced over to see her with the girls as they all fawned over her dog
Kirishima barked out a laugh, doubling over as Katsuki’s groan turned into a low growl.
“Drink your damn beer and shut up,” Katsuki muttered, downing the rest of his beer in one go. But even as he turned away to grab another, he couldn’t stop the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
The coffee table in Katsuki’s living room was cleared, and the Monopoly board was set up in the center, surrounded by snacks and drinks. Izuku beamed as he held up the box.
“Monopoly it is!” he announced, earning a mix of groans and laughter from the group.
“Seriously?” Katsuki muttered, rolling his eyes. “You couldn’t pick something less boring, Deku?”
“Monopoly’s a classic!” Izuku defended, while Uraraka chimed in cheerfully, “It’s fun! And pairing up will make it go faster.”
Rosie sat cross-legged on the floor beside Katsuki, smirking at the banter as she adjusted Maya, who had curled up in her lap. “Let’s do teams, then.”
Everyone quickly paired off: Rosie and Katsuki, Shoto and Momo, Uraraka and Izuku, and Kirishima and Mina. Kaminari, shrugging dramatically, declared himself the solo competitor.
“I work better alone anyway,” Kaminari said, puffing up his chest as everyone chuckled.
As the game began, Rosie leaned forward to select their game piece, quickly grabbing the dog figurine. Katsuki scoffed.
“Of course you’d pick the dog,” he said with a smirk.
“It’s the best one,” she replied, smirking right back. “Maya would agree.”
“Whatever,” he muttered, watching her roll the dice for their first turn.
The game quickly heated up as everyone scrambled to grab properties. Kaminari, predictably, made bold and reckless decisions, while Shoto and Momo played with quiet efficiency. Katsuki’s competitive streak came out in full force, guiding Rosie to make aggressive trades and investments.
“You sure about that?” he asked her when she hesitated over a deal.
“Yes, I’m sure,” she replied confidently, her eyes sparkling.
“Fine. Don’t blame me if it backfires,” he teased, but the faint smile on his face said he trusted her instincts.
One by one, the players started dropping out. Kaminari was the first to go bankrupt after landing on a string of hotels owned by Shoto and Momo.
“Seriously?!” Kaminari groaned, throwing his hands in the air. “I didn’t even last an hour!”
Uraraka and Izuku were next, their teamwork unable to save them from Mina and Kirishima’s sneaky property monopoly.
“It’s okay, Deku,” Uraraka said encouragingly, patting his arm as they handed over their final bills.
Kirishima and Mina were eliminated soon after, laughing and high-fiving each other as they went down with flair.
Finally, it was down to Shoto and Momo versus Rosie and Katsuki. The tension was palpable, with the two teams trading blows in the form of steep rents and strategic property swaps.
“Your move,” Rosie said, her voice light but her expression focused as she pushed the dice toward Katsuki.
He rolled—and groaned as he landed on one of Shoto and Momo’s hotel-laden properties.
“Are you kidding me?!” Katsuki barked, glaring at the board as Rosie’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.
“Looks like that’s game,” Shoto said calmly, his voice betraying just a hint of satisfaction.
Katsuki slammed his hand on the table, causing the pieces to rattle. “This is rigged!”
“Rigged?” Shoto raised an eyebrow. “You lost because you couldn’t roll better.”
“It’s a dice game! Of course it’s rigged!” Katsuki shot back, leaning across the table as the two began bickering.
Meanwhile, Rosie and Momo exchanged amused looks, giggling as they started putting the game away.
“Let them argue,” Momo said with a soft laugh, carefully stacking the paper bills.
“Oh, I fully intend to,” Rosie replied, shaking her head fondly as she placed the dog figurine back in the box. “They’ll tire themselves out eventually.”
“Doubt it,” Uraraka called from the couch, munching on popcorn as she watched the chaos with a grin.
“We should play Twister next!” Mina clapped her hands with a smirk, her voice cutting through the room like a challenge. “A great way to prove who’s the most agile.”
The group laughed, though Katsuki barely heard it as his eyes trailed after Rosie. She had quietly slipped into his kitchen, leaning against the counter as she munched on popcorn, seemingly lost in her thoughts. Her gaze flickered toward the living room briefly before lowering, a faint smile playing on her lips.
Katsuki snorted softly and followed her, the sounds of his friends’ chatter fading behind him. “Check the fridge.”
Startled, Rosie jumped slightly, turning to him with wide eyes. “Fridge?”
“Yeah,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter. “Check it.”
Frowning in curiosity, she moved toward the fridge, pulling it open. While she searched, Katsuki reached for the pink wine glass he’d bought earlier in the week—a fact he’d refused to acknowledge until this very moment.
Her sharp intake of breath drew his attention. Rosie had found the chilled bottle of her favorite wine. She turned slowly, her wide eyes locking onto the wine glass in his hand.
“How did you know my favorite wine?” she asked softly, her voice tinged with surprise.
“I saw the bottle when I delivered your pizza,” he said with a casual snort, though his hand scratched the back of his head in an uncharacteristically sheepish gesture.
Rosie’s face lit up, her cheeks blooming a soft pink. She stared at the glass, her smile growing impossibly large. “Did you buy that for me?”
Katsuki glanced away, his ears turning faintly red as he shrugged. “Figured you’d need one since I’m always helping you with chemistry and figured you’d be spending more time here,” he muttered, his tone gruff but lacking his usual sharpness.
Rosie stepped closer, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. “That’s really sweet of you, Katsuki.”
He grunted, avoiding her gaze as he thrust the glass toward her. “Just take it, dumbass.”
Unbeknownst to him, Mina and Kirishima were perched at the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room. They exchanged gleeful looks, trying and failing to stifle their laughter.
“He is such a softie,” Mina whispered to Kirishima, her hand covering her mouth as she giggled.
“Man, he’s whipped,” Kirishima whispered back, grinning.
Their muffled laughter finally caught Katsuki’s attention. His sharp red eyes darted toward them, narrowing dangerously as he realized they’d been watching.
“The hell are you two looking at?” he barked, his voice sharp enough to cut through steel.
“Nothing, nothing!” Mina sang, waving him off as she ducked behind Kirishima.
“Yeah, we’re just admiring your…chemistry skills,” Kirishima teased, his grin widening.
Katsuki growled low in his throat, clearly tempted to launch himself over the counter, but a soft laugh from Rosie distracted him.
She held the pink wine glass in her hands, her cheeks still warm as she looked up at him. “Ignore them,” she said, her voice soft and filled with amusement. “Thank you, Katsuki. Really.”
For a moment, his glare softened as he looked at her, the corners of his mouth twitching upward before he turned away, muttering, “Yeah, whatever.”
From the living room, Mina’s voice carried over again. “Twister! Come on, let’s go!”
How the hell did he end up in this position?
Oh, right. He had to prove that he is the best at everything.
“Right hand red!” Mina’s voice rang out, obnoxiously cheerful, as she leaned over to spin the wheel.
Katsuki gritted his teeth, his arm shaking slightly as he stretched over Shoto’s to reach the red dot. They were locked in a battle of endurance and balance, with the rest of their friends lounging on the couches, drinks in hand, watching the showdown with snickers.
Shoto’s face was as calm as ever, but Katsuki wasn’t fooled. The icy bastard was just as competitive as he was. “You’re going down, Icy Hot,” Katsuki growled.
“We’ll see,” Shoto replied evenly, though his legs wobbled ever so slightly, drawing snickers from the spectators.
“Left foot green!” Mina called, her tone far too excited for Katsuki’s liking.
Both guys struggled to twist their bodies, their limbs tangling even more precariously. Katsuki could feel the tension in his muscles, his pride not allowing him to falter. The mat was a battlefield, and he wasn’t about to lose to the icy hot bastard.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Shoto’s arm gave out, and he collapsed onto the mat with a resigned sigh.
“Victory!” Katsuki roared, throwing both fists into the air triumphantly. His smug grin stretched ear to ear as he turned to his audience. “Who’s the best?!”
Before he could bask in his glory, his eyes landed on Rosie sitting on the couch, her face flushed pink as she laughed and sipped her drink. She and Uraraka were both standing now, eyeing the Twister mat with playful determination.
“We want to go next,” Rosie announced, her voice slightly slurred but still full of energy.
Katsuki blinked, momentarily distracted by how the dim light caught the sparkle in her eyes. “You’re gonna fall on your ass,” he muttered as he moved to sit where she had been moments ago.
“Shut up and watch,” she shot back with a smirk, her pink lips curling.
As Katsuki took his spot, Rosie’s dog, Maya, immediately trotted over and climbed into his lap, curling up and going back to sleep. He instinctively rested a hand on her back, stroking her soft fur as he watched the girls position themselves on opposite ends of the mat.
“Alright, ladies, let’s see who can handle this,” Mina teased, spinning the wheel. “Right foot yellow!”
Rosie and Uraraka moved simultaneously, wobbling slightly as they placed their feet on the yellow dots. Rosie let out a giggle, her balance already a little shaky.
“You’re tipsy,” Katsuki muttered, leaning back with a smirk as he watched.
“Like you could do any better,” Rosie shot back, sticking her tongue out at him before turning her attention to the game.
“Left hand blue!” Mina called out.
The girls stretched awkwardly, laughter bubbling up between them as they tried to keep their balance. Uraraka slipped slightly, catching herself just in time, while Rosie nearly toppled but managed to grab a dot for support.
“Come on, Rosie!” Momo cheered from the couch.
“Don’t let gravity win!” Kaminari added, clearly enjoying the spectacle.
“Left foot red!” Mina called again, spinning the wheel with exaggerated flair.
The room erupted in laughter as both girls twisted awkwardly, Rosie letting out a squeal as she nearly toppled onto Uraraka. Katsuki’s smirk widened as he watched her determined expression, even as her hair started to fall into her face.
“You look ridiculous,” he called out, earning a playful glare from her.
“Keep talking, and I’ll shove this mat in your face,” she retorted, her cheeks pink but her grin wide.
Katsuki chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re gonna fall.”
Rosie didn’t fall, not yet anyway.
Katsuki leaned back in his chair, beer in hand, as his crimson eyes followed Rosie on the mat. She was locked in a fierce—though hilariously uncoordinated—battle with Uraraka, both girls wobbling and giggling as they attempted to stretch and contort their bodies to the increasingly absurd positions Mina was calling out.
“Right hand green!” Mina called with dramatic flair, clearly enjoying herself far too much.
Rosie, her face flushed from both laughter and the wine, tried to twist around, her balance faltering as she stretched her arm awkwardly over Uraraka. “This is impossible!” she giggled, nearly toppling.
“Don’t give up!” Momo cheered, clapping her hands, while Kaminari was nearly doubled over with laughter.
Uraraka wasn’t faring much better, her own giggles spilling out as she stretched her left leg to a red dot. “I don’t think this is a game—it’s a workout!” she gasped.
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed slightly as he watched Rosie wobble again, strands of her hair falling into her face as she bit her lip in concentration. She was determined, even in something as ridiculous as Twister, and he couldn’t help but admire that spark in her.
“Left foot blue!” Mina called, grinning like a maniac.
That was it. The final move was too much. Both girls collapsed into a tangle of limbs on the mat, shrieking with laughter. Rosie ended up flat on her back with Uraraka sprawled half on top of her, the two of them laughing so hard they couldn’t even attempt to untangle themselves.
“Guess we both lost,” Rosie managed to wheeze, wiping tears from her eyes as she turned her head to grin at Uraraka.
“Totally worth it,” Uraraka replied, still catching her breath.
Katsuki hid his smile behind the rim of his beer bottle, taking a long sip to cover the faint amusement tugging at his lips. She looked ridiculous, her hair mussed and her face pink from exertion, but damn if she didn’t look happy.
“Dumbass,” he muttered under his breath, though the warmth in his chest betrayed the harshness of his words.
“Did you just smile?” Kirishima whispered, leaning closer to Katsuki with a teasing grin.
“Shut up,” Katsuki snapped, elbowing him lightly before standing up to grab another beer. But as he walked to the fridge, he couldn’t resist one last glance at Rosie, who was still lying on the mat, grinning from ear to ear as she teased Uraraka about losing first.
The corner of his mouth twitched upward again, just for a moment.
The living room was quieter now, the earlier chaos of laughter and games replaced by a more relaxed, intimate vibe. Kaminari, Shoto, Momo, Izuku, and Uraraka had already headed home, leaving Kirishima, Mina, Rosie, and Katsuki lounging in the warm glow of the television.
Katsuki had set up a co-op zombie-killing game on his console, determined to teach Rosie how to play despite her clear lack of experience.
“Okay, so you aim with this,” Katsuki instructed, leaning closer to her on the couch as he pointed to the controller in her hands. His voice was sharp, but his tone wasn’t as harsh as it usually was. “And you shoot with this. Just don’t waste ammo.”
“Got it,” Rosie mumbled, her tongue peeking out in concentration as she attempted to follow his instructions.
On the screen, her character spun wildly in a circle before accidentally shooting at the floor.
Katsuki groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “What the hell are you doing? The zombies are over there, not under your damn feet!”
“I panicked!” Rosie exclaimed, her cheeks flushing as Mina and Kirishima burst into laughter from their spots on the floor.
“You’re doing great, Rosie!” Mina cheered sarcastically, snorting when Rosie gave her a mock glare.
“Yeah, totally killing it,” Kirishima added, his grin wide as he reached for another slice of pizza.
Rosie tried again, this time managing to aim at an approaching zombie. She fired a shot, but it missed completely, and the zombie lunged toward her character.
“Shoot it! Now!” Katsuki barked, leaning even closer, his hand instinctively moving to guide hers on the controller.
“I’m trying!” she yelled back, frantically pressing buttons.
With Katsuki’s help, she finally managed to kill the zombie, though her character was left with a sliver of health. She let out a breath, slumping back against the couch in relief.
“There. See? Not so hard,” Katsuki muttered, his arm still resting behind her shoulders as he smirked.
Rosie shot him a side-eye. “Easy for you to say. You’re like a gaming machine.”
“Maybe if you listened, you wouldn’t suck so bad,” he teased, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice.
Rosie stuck her tongue out at him, and Mina clutched her stomach, laughing. “You two are killing me. This is way better than any zombie game.”
“Focus,” Katsuki grunted, nudging Rosie slightly as another wave of zombies appeared on the screen.
Despite her struggles, Rosie was clearly having fun, her laughter mixing with Mina’s and Kirishima’s as she continued to fumble through the game. And though Katsuki grumbled and rolled his eyes every time she made a mistake, the small smirk on his face never really disappeared.
By the end of the round, Rosie’s character was barely alive, and Katsuki had carried the team to victory.
“You owe me for that,” he said, setting his controller down with a smug look.
Rosie leaned back, crossing her arms as she looked at him. “Owe you what?”
“Dunno. I’ll figure it out.”
“We’re gonna head out,” Mina announced with a smirk, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder.
Kirishima nodded, clapping Katsuki on the shoulder. “Yeah, later, man. And hey…” He leaned in close, lowering his voice. “Call me tomorrow and tell me all about it.”
Katsuki narrowed his eyes and shoved his friend lightly. “Dunno what the hell you’re talkin’ about, idiot.”
Kirishima just grinned wider as Mina dragged him toward the door. Meanwhile, Rosie hugged Mina goodbye, the two girls chatting briefly about plans for the weekend.
As Mina stepped out, she winked at Katsuki. “Don’t screw this up, Blasty.”
Katsuki glared after them, his ears burning, knowing exactly what the schemers were hinting at. When he shut the door, he turned back to Rosie, who was obliviously scanning the room.
“Your apartment looks like a battlefield,” she giggled, noting the mess of snacks, empty glasses, and the couch pushed slightly out of place.
Katsuki grunted, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, thanks to you all.”
“I’ll help you clean,” she offered with a bright smile, already heading toward the coffee table to start gathering cups and plates.
“Don’t bother,” he muttered, though he didn’t stop her when she started picking up.
The two worked quietly at first, Rosie collecting trash and wiping down the surfaces while Katsuki moved furniture back into place. The silence wasn’t awkward, though; it was comfortable, broken occasionally by Rosie’s soft humming as she wiped down the kitchen counters.
Katsuki glanced over at her a few times, catching the way her hair glimmered under the kitchen lights and the way her lips twitched into a small smile as she worked. He shook his head, trying to ignore the warmth spreading in his chest.
When they finally finished, his apartment was back to its usual pristine state. Katsuki glanced at the clock on the microwave and frowned. “Damn, it’s almost three in the morning.”
Rosie looked up, surprised. “Is it really that late?”
“Yeah. You want me to drive you home, or…” He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “You can crash here if you want.”
Rosie opened her mouth to answer, but Katsuki’s eyes flicked to the couch, where Maya was sprawled on her back, snoring softly. Rosie followed his gaze and burst out laughing.
“I guess Maya already decided for me,” she giggled, pointing at her dog.
Katsuki snorted, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Your dog looks just like you.”
Rosie’s laughter turned into a mock gasp of offense. “Excuse me? Are you saying I snore and sleep like that?”
“No,” he said, smirking. “I’m saying you’re both tiny and take up way too much damn space.”
He glanced at what she was wearing, then walked over to his bedroom. After rummaging through his dresser, he grabbed one of his shirts and tossed it to her. “You’ll be more comfortable in this,” he said, his voice gruff but softened by the casual gesture.
“Thanks,” she slipped past him to his bathroom
He plopped onto his couch to continue playing the game, only to glance towards her when she came back in and felt his throat go dry.
Fuck.
His black t-shirt hanging loosely on her frame. The fabric stretched slightly over her curves, and it fell just underneath her ass, drawing his gaze. The sight of her in his shirt stirred something inside him, a mix of pride and lust.
He quickly looked away, his face growing warm, and focused on the game controller in his hand. But even then, the image of her kept flashing in his mind. She looked so natural in his shirt, completely at ease, while he couldn’t seem to shake the tension in his chest.
She plopped onto the couch next to him. His eyes drifted to Rosie again, but his focus was on her legs—long and smooth—stretched out next to him on the couch. His gaze lingered for a moment longer than he should have, tracing the way her legs extended so perfectly from beneath the oversized shirt, and he couldn’t seem to shake the image from his mind.
The tension in his body was unmistakable, and he struggled to focus on the screen. He’d always been able to keep his mind clear during games, but tonight was different. Her closeness, her legs, her presence, all combined with the way she stretched beside him, made it hard to focus. His thoughts were spiraling.
“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, gripping the controller tighter as if it could distract him. He glanced at her, noticing how she was completely engrossed in the game, her attention on the screen. She didn’t seem to notice the shift in his demeanor.
But he couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’m gonna go take a shower,” he blurted, standing up abruptly, trying to hide the fact that he was struggling to keep himself under control.
“Okay,” Rosie responded, her focus still on the game. She didn’t look up, but the slight smile on her lips made him feel like she understood more than she was letting on. He hurried into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him, he peered down just in time to see his boner, very pronounced.
“Fuck,” he banged his head against the wall
He took a quick, freezing cold shower. As much as he wanted to masturbate, he didn’t want to risk her hearing him. So the cold shower won.
When he left the bathroom, he froze in the doorway.
Rosie had fallen asleep on the couch.
Her legs were tucked up under her, and her face was pressed into the armrest. She looked so peaceful, so calm, her breathing steady and soft. He took a moment to watch her, feeling an unexpected tenderness that surprised him. She looked so at home here, as if she belonged.
Katsuki grunted softly, his chest tightening as he approached the couch. Without much thought, he gently scooped her up, careful not to wake her, and cradled her against his chest. Her weight was familiar, comforting, and it felt natural holding her like this. He wasn’t sure when the shift had happened, but it didn’t feel wrong.
She stirred slightly, but he hushed her as he carried her to his bedroom. Pushing the comforter back, he laid her down gently on the bed, pulling it back over her. He watched her for some time before leaving his bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Notes:
Remember if you are interested in this fic then I recommend reading my other Katsuki x OC fic as its the same characters but them in a past life...anyway see you tomorrow!
Chapter 13: If that guy had so much as touched her, he was going to lose his damn mind.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki wiped the sweat from his brow as he finished his set, the gym’s fluorescent lights overhead buzzing with the usual hum. He’d spent the whole damn day working, racing through the city’s traffic in the hot sun, and his body was feeling it now. His muscles ached, but the workout was a necessary outlet for his frustration. He had barely a moment to catch his breath when his phone buzzed on the bench.
His mind briefly flicked to thoughts of food and maybe a cold beer, but the notification on his phone caught his attention. Someone had followed him on Linked.
His curiosity piqued, he wiped his hands on the towel around his neck and glanced at the screen. He saw the name on the screen, his brow furrowed. It was Rosie.
He froze for a moment, uncertainty flickering in his chest. He never thought she’d actually follow him.
Katsuki leaned back against the bench and tapped the notification, curiosity edging into his thoughts. The app opened immediately, pulling up her profile with ease. He immediately clicked the follow button.
Scrolling all the way down, he found her first post–middle school, by the looks of it. She was holding a violin in one hand, a wide, carefree smile on her face. The post was simple—just her, in what appeared to be a middle school uniform, standing under a large cherry willow tree. But even then, there was a familiarity to it. A sweetness that caught him off guard.
He scrolled up.
Most of her posts were candid shots taken of her, others with her mom, a woman he knew had passed. There were pictures of Rosie holding a white fluffy puppy with a pink bow wrapped around her neck coming out of a christmas box with a large smile, showing off her braces that were of course pink. There were countless shots of her in different stages of life—there was something hypnotic about scrolling through her page, viewing her life in these posts.
There was a distinct pattern to her posts, though. A theme of music, of family, of memories. Katsuki’s eyes lingered on the photos of her playing the flute; there was a grace to the way she held it, her fingers delicately poised on the keys. The attention to detail in the way she captured herself, the peaceful moments with her dog, and the smiles with her mom.
His thumb stilled as he reached the most recent post, just from earlier that day. Rosie was sitting in a salon chair, her blue-haired coworker next to her. Both were getting their nails done, and Rosie had posted a photo of them both laughing with bright colors adorning their nails.
Scrolling back her post before that was the game night of last night, she posted two photos in that post. Once where they were all sitting around the table playing monopoly and the second photo was of her and the group of girls sitting on the couch smiling.
Then the one before that made him still.
It was of the whole class standing in front of the entrance, the second the girls posing in their seats on the first roller coaster, the third one was of them eating at the tables, the next was of her and him eating the funnel cake and last was her on the ferris wheel.
He had taken that photo.
For a brief second, Katsuki forgot about his workout, his mind absorbed in the little details of her life. How she included him in her life. The world outside of this gym, the weights, the sweat, seemed so far away as he scrolled down through the posts.
He didn’t know why he was so transfixed, but something about it tugged at him. It was a glimpse into her life, a window he hadn’t expected, and for some reason, it felt… intimate. Maybe it was the way she shared parts of herself without a second thought, or how her posts reflected a side of her he hadn’t seen before—soft, genuine, and real.
Katsuki cursed.
It was already bad enough that he couldn’t stop thinking about her, now he had full access to her life.
Fuck.
The living room of Todoroki's apartment was dimly lit, the flickering of the TV screen casting an ambient glow over the couch where Katsuki, Izuku, and Todoroki sat, controllers in hand. Empty beer bottles littered the table in front of them, the evening dragging on as they lost themselves in the game.
Katsuki, leaning back on the couch with a beer in one hand, was focused on the screen, his brows furrowed in determination. Izuku, sitting next to him, was practically bouncing with excitement, his voice rising with every close call or victory.
“Ha! Gotcha, Bakugou!” Izuku cheered, his character landing a perfectly timed punch that knocked Katsuki's avatar off the screen.
Katsuki scowled, flicking his hair out of his face as he grabbed another beer from the table, uncapping it with a sharp twist. “Cheap shot, Deku. Don't think it’ll happen again,” he muttered, taking a swig. His fingers gripped the controller tighter as he prepared for the next round.
“Don’t let him get in your head, Bakugou,” Todoroki said casually, his voice deep as he leaned back, his left hand wrapped around a beer bottle. His character, cool and composed, was owning the game—per usual.
“Shut up, Icy-Hot. You’re not much better,” Katsuki shot back, his eyes narrowing in Todoroki’s direction. “Your damn character’s been overpowered since the beginning.”
“I’m not complaining,” Todoroki replied with his usual calm demeanor, not even slightly phased by Katsuki’s irritation. “But speaking of power, how’s your new routine going?”
Izuku perked up at the question, turning to Katsuki with curiosity in his eyes. "Yeah! You mentioned trying something new a few days ago. How’s that going?”
Katsuki rubbed the back of his neck, a slight grimace on his face as he glanced between the two of them. “It’s... fine, I guess.” He took another drink from his bottle, eyes scanning the screen before he began tapping buttons aggressively. “Been mixing it up. Trying to focus more on strength conditioning, sprints, heavy lifting.”
Todoroki raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “That sounds intense. What kind of exercises?”
“Deadlifts, bench press, squats. The basics. I’m throwing in some explosive training too. Want to build more speed.” Katsuki leaned forward slightly, his eyes catching the light as he locked eyes with Todoroki. “What about you? Been keeping up with the training?”
Todoroki took a slow sip of his beer, his expression neutral. “I’ve been focusing more on mobility work. Stretching, flexibility. I’ve been incorporating more yoga and some martial arts drills. My body doesn’t always cooperate with what I want it to do in battle, so I’m trying to find a balance.” He glanced at Izuku. “What about you?”
Izuku flushed slightly, his enthusiasm still palpable even as he scratched the back of his head. “I’ve been doing more endurance training, I’ve been running more. That way, I can keep up with you two without always having to rely on blackwhip,” he added, a playful challenge in his voice.
“You’re always the most dedicated, Deku,” Katsuki grumbled with a shake of his head, though he couldn’t hide the hint of respect in his tone. “No one works harder than you.”
Izuku grinned, clearly pleased with the compliment. “Thanks, Kacchan! I’m trying my best to keep up!”
Todoroki leaned forward, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Well, you’re going to need to work harder if you want to beat Bakugou in this game,” he teased, leaning into the playful rivalry.
Katsuki snorted, his lips curling into a smirk as he turned back to his controller. “That’s what I like to hear.” He punched a few buttons, unleashing a devastating combo that knocked Izuku’s character into submission.
Izuku groaned dramatically, falling back on the couch in defeat. “Man, I never get a break with you.”
Katsuki chuckled, leaning back with a satisfied grin, popping the cap off his last beer. “You can’t keep up with me, Deku. And you never will.”
Izuku sat up and reached for his controller with renewed determination. “We’ll see about that! I’m not giving up yet!”
The doorbell rang, causing the three of them to all snap their attention to the door.
“That’s probably Kirishima,” Shoto blinked, grabbing the last sip of his beer as he stood up. He made his way to the door, opening it to reveal the familiar face of their loud, red-headed friend, who stood there with two large pizza boxes in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other.
Tokoyami was behind him, his usual brooding presence a stark contrast to Kirishima’s perpetual energy.
“Hey, hey! We’ve got pizza and beer!” Kirishima grinned as he practically bounced into the apartment, tossing the boxes onto the coffee table.
“About damn time,” Katsuki growled from the couch, already with a beer in hand, not even sparing a glance at Kirishima’s dramatic entrance. “I was starting to think you got lost’.”
Kirishima threw his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m here, I’m here! Quit your bitching.”
“Everyone’s always late,” Izuku muttered, reaching for a slice of pizza.
“Alright, who’s ready to get wrecked?” Bakugou sneered, his eyes locked on the game screen.
“You wish, man!” Kirishima shot back, popping open a beer and taking a swig. “I’ve been training for this moment. You’re going down.”
Tokoyami, who had taken his usual spot on the armchair, raised an eyebrow at the escalating tension. “You all talk too much. Let’s see if your skills can back it up.”
“Skills!?” Katsuki scoffed. “You wanna see skills you loser!? I’ll show you skills,” he said with a grin that could only be described as predatory. He leaned forward, focusing on the screen. His fingers gripped the controller tightly as he set his eyes on the game.
Todoroki, who had returned to the couch, leaned back with a bemused look. “You’re all idiots,” he remarked. “But I guess that’s what makes this fun.”
Kirishima couldn’t help but laugh. “True, true. But we all know I’m going to kick your asses and win.”
As the game resumed, the intensity ratcheted up to a whole new level. The trash talk was relentless, each one trying to outdo the other with insults while boasting about themselves in the process.
“I’ll break your character’s legs, Tokoyami!” Katsuki yelled, as his avatar landed a vicious blow on Tokoyami’s character.
“Do your worst, Bakugou,” Tokoyami replied coolly, his eyes unblinking, even as his character took the hit. “It won’t matter.”
“Oh, it matters,” Izuku piped up with a mischievous grin. “Just wait ‘til I beat you both.”
The laughter and shouting reached a crescendo as everyone stood up to get a better angle on the screen. Beer was spilled, and the pizza was quickly devoured. When one of them made a good move, it was followed by loud whoops and high-fives. But for every victory, there was a defeat that led to more yelling and mock threats towards one another.
“You’re gonna regret that move, Todoroki!” Kirishima shouted, his hands raised in victory after making a surprise comeback in the game.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Todoroki shot back, standing and gripping his controller so tightly his knuckles went white. “I’ve got this.”
“You know I can’t let that happen, right?” Bakugou said, standing up now as well, his posture tense with excitement. “You’re both getting wrecked.”
Izuku jumped to his feet too, already grinning. “I think we should make a rule—whoever gets knocked out first does the next round of pizza delivery!” he joked, laughing as he looked at Bakugou. “Are you ready to take that one?”
Bakugou scowled, his face twitching with competitive fire. “You’re on,” he said with a challenging grin. “But I’m not losing. To a bunch of fucking nerds!”
Just as he was about to win, Tokoyami killed his character causing him to slam his controller onto the table, “fuck!”
Tokoyami just smiled, “I won Bakugou.” He then turned to Deku, “you were the first one knocked off so you should order the next round of pizza.”
“I’m going to take a piss,” Bakugou stood and headed towards the bathroom just as Deku started ordering pizza.
Just as he washed his hands, Katsuki's phone buzzed on the counter. He dried his hands quickly and grabbed it, noticing a notification pop up at the top of his screen: Rosie posted a new photo.
Yeah, he had turned on post notifications for her. So what? It wasn’t a big deal—at least not to him.
Clicking the notification, his phone unlocked and opened the app, and the image that loaded on the screen made him freeze. His chest tightened, and his breath hitched in his throat.
Rosie was dressed in a short, tight leather dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. The deep black of the material shimmered under the lights, accentuating her figure, and her legs looked impossibly long in those sleek black heels. Her hair was tied up messily, glitter sparkling in her hair like tiny stars. The pink flush on her cheeks added a softness to the sultry look as she posed, smiling with her blue-haired co-worker. They held colorful drinks in hand, laughing and carefree.
She looked... incredible. Sexy. A little too sexy, in his opinion, to be alone in a nightclub with just one other girl. His jaw clenched as he stared at the photo longer than he meant to, his thumb instinctively brushing against the screen as if he could reach out and touch her.
Then his gaze wandered, scanning the rest of the photo—and his blood boiled.
In the background, barely visible but clear enough to piss him off, some guy was blatantly staring at her ass. His eyes were locked onto her like she was the only person in the damn club. His hand was even resting on the bar, his whole posture screaming that he was about to make a move. Katsuki felt the muscles in his jaw tighten painfully, his grip on the phone turning his knuckles white.
“What the hell...” he muttered under his breath, his heart pounding.
He hated this. Hated how seeing her like this—dressed up, out at some club, and surrounded by strangers—tugged at something deep in his chest. She looked incredible, but the idea of random guys ogling her, thinking they had any right to approach her, made his blood simmer. And where the hell was she, anyway? That club looked familiar. Was it the one a few blocks from his apartment?
It definitely looked like Plum.
He scrolled down to the comments, his thumb moving almost on autopilot. A mix of compliments and emojis flooded the post, and while most of them were harmless, the few from guys he didn’t recognize made his stomach twist.
"Looking stunning as always, Rosie!🔥"
"Where’s this club? Asking for a friend 😉"
"Damn, Rosie, you’re killing me."
Katsuki slammed his thumb against the side button of his phone, the screen going black as he stuffed it into his pocket with a sharp exhale. His reflection in the mirror caught his eye—furrowed brows, clenched jaw, and an expression that screamed irritation.
He splashed water on his face, trying to cool the heat rising in his chest. Calm down, idiot, he told himself, gripping the edge of the sink. But no matter how hard he tried, the image of her in that damn dress, with that guy in the background, kept flashing in his mind like a neon sign.
As he headed back to the living room, he could hear the others still yelling at the screen, arguing over the next round of their game. He dropped onto the couch, cracking open a new beer with a little too much force. Todoroki glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow.
“You good?”
“Fine,” Katsuki snapped, taking a long pull from the bottle. He wasn’t about to explain why his mood had soured. But as the game resumed and the laughter around him filled the room, his thoughts kept drifting back to her—Rosie, looking like a damn goddess in that leather dress—and the guy who thought he could stare at her like she was just another drink on the menu.
Katsuki gritted his teeth. If that guy had so much as touched her, he was going to lose his damn mind.
“Are you going to join the next game?” Kirishima asked
“Play without me,” he growled.
Taking his phone back out, he texted her.
Katsuki: Where the hell are you?
Pretty but still annoying: Out with Kanako, why?
Katsuki: Just you two?
Katsuki leaned back against the couch, glaring at his phone. His grip on the device tightened as he re-read her last text.
Pretty but still annoying: Kanako invited some guys.
His teeth clenched, his mood darkening further. Without thinking twice, he fired off another text.
Katsuki: Who are these guys?
It took a moment before her reply came through, and when it did, it wasn’t reassuring.
Pretty but still annoying: Dunno. Kanako’s frens or smthn. Chilllll, Katsuki. We’re fine. 🤭
He stared at the screen, feeling his patience start to snap. Her usual teasing tone grated on him tonight, especially knowing she was out drinking with strangers.
Katsuki: You don’t even know them? Are you drunk?
The dots appeared as she typed, but the message that followed only made his brow twitch.
Pretty but still annoying: Mayyybbeee. 🥂 Only a lil tho. Kanako said no more. Soz silly billy.
He growled under his breath, typing furiously.
Katsuki: Quit calling me that. You better not be getting wasted with people you don’t know.
Her reply came faster this time, and the spelling was even worse.
Pretty but still annoying: Stp bing a dad lolllll. I’m finnnneee.
Katsuki: Rosie
For a solid ten minutes he stared at his phone, waiting for her to respond. But one never came, just as he moved to text her again. His phone began to ring in his hand, her name flashing on the screen. Katsuki’s eyes widened slightly.
She’s calling me?
He got up and headed to Todoroki’s bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him before answering.
“Katsuki!” Rosie’s voice was loud and slurred, immediately setting him on edge. “You answered!”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, pacing the small space. “You’re drunk.”
“Am not,” she countered, giggling. “Okay, maybe a little, but Kanako’s here, and we’re good. You don’t have to worry about me, ya know.”
“Yeah, like I believe that,” he muttered. “Where the hell are you, Rosie? What club?”
“Umm…” She trailed off, clearly trying to think. There was a muffled noise, and he could hear Kanako laughing in the background. “Kanako said it’s called… uh… Ploom? Or Plum? Something like that. Dunno!”
Katsuki stopped pacing, his hand tightening around his phone. He knew that place. It wasn’t far from his apartment, it was one of the more popular nightclubs in the city
“Are you serious?!”
“Oh, relax, Bakugou,” she said, laughing softly. “You’re so dramatic sometimes. We’re just having fun. Kanako’s here. She’s tough!”
“You don’t even sound like you can walk straight right now,” he shot back, his voice rising slightly. “You’re lucky if she’s watching your back because it doesn’t sound like you’re watching your own.”
There was a pause, and then she whispered conspiratorially, “You’re worried about me, huh?”
Katsuki’s face heated. “Of course I am, dumbass. You’re my…” He stopped himself, biting his tongue. “You’re my friend. And you’re being fucking reckless.”
“Awwww, you do care,” she teased, her giggles soft and fuzzy through the phone. “Okiee Suki, I’ll try not to get into trouble.”
Then he heard a male’s voice on the other side, really close to the phone. Which pissed him off and it took everything for him to not snap the phone in half.
“Rosie,” he warned.
“I cannot find Kanako,” he heard her pout then followed by giggling. “Have fun getting laid!”
Her laughter only made his frustration grow, but underneath it all, he couldn’t shake the knot forming in his chest. Rosie wasn’t the reckless type, but she was clearly out of her depth tonight.
“Stay where you are,” he ordered. “Don’t go anywhere. I’m coming to get you.”
“What? Noooo, Katsuki, you don’t need to—”
“Shut up and listen for once,” he growled. “I’m on my way. Don’t move.”
He ended the call before she could protest further, leaning heavily against the sink. His reflection stared back at him, his scowl etched deep.
“Shit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. Rosie had no idea the kind of trouble she could stumble into, and there was no way in hell he was leaving her alone in a place like that.
Without wasting another second, he grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the bathroom, ignoring the guys’ confused looks as he headed for the door. “I’m out. Don’t wait up.”
“Katsuki, where are you going?” Kirishima called after him, but he didn’t bother answering as the front door slammed shut.
The club was a chaotic mess of pounding bass, flashing neon lights, and sweaty bodies moving on the dance floor. Katsuki pushed through the crowd, his sharp eyes scanning the throngs of people for a familiar figure. The strobe lights made it difficult to focus, but he refused to stop until he found her.
He cursed under his breath, shoving past some guy who stumbled into his path. His patience was already thin, and the longer it took to find her, the angrier he became. Finally, through the shifting sea of dancers, he spotted her.
There she was—Rosie.
She was on the dance floor, her movements loose and carefree, clearly tipsy. But what made his blood boil was the guy next to her. His white hair was short, he had freakishly pale skin, and he did not like how his green eyes stared so intently and fixated on her. Who the fuck was this guy? The stranger was far too close, his hands hovering near her waist as he leaned in, trying to make a move. Rosie seemed oblivious, laughing and swaying to the music, but Katsuki wasn’t.
Growling, Katsuki shoved his way forward, his fists clenched at his sides. The guy reached out to touch her waist, and that was it. Katsuki’s vision narrowed as he stormed toward them, ready to knock this extra into next week.
Before he could land the punch he was itching to throw, Rosie turned and saw him. Her eyes lit up, and a wide, goofy smile spread across her flushed face.
“Katsukiiiii!” she slurred, stumbling toward him.
Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down slightly as she buried her face into his chest with a content hum. Her warm breath tickled his skin, and for a second, his anger faltered, replaced by something softer.
“Rosie,” he muttered, his hands hovering near her back, unsure whether to hold her or push her away. “What the hell are you doing?”
Before he could say anything more, the guy she’d been dancing with grabbed her arm, yanking her back toward him. “Hey, man, I already have dibs,” the guy sneered.
Katsuki’s jaw tightened, his crimson eyes locking onto the idiot. Recognition flickered—was this the delivery guy from a while ago? No, that was ridiculous.
Before the guy could say another word, Katsuki’s fist connected with his face, sending him sprawling to the floor. The people around them scattered, giving them space as the guy groaned, clutching his jaw.
Katsuki grabbed Rosie’s wrist, pulling her behind him as he glared down at the guy. “Don’t fucking touch her with your filthy hands, you bastard,” he growled. His voice was low, dangerous, and the guy just glared at him, his jaw clenched before standing and disappearing in the crowd.
“Katsukiii,” Rosie whined from behind him, tugging at his arm.
“What?” he snapped, turning to look at her.
“Dance with me,” she pouted, her bottom lip jutting out in a way that made him want to roll his eyes.
“You’re too drunk,” he replied, his tone softening slightly.
“Just one,” she pleaded, her wide eyes shimmering under the neon lights.
Katsuki sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll dance with you when you’re not drunk. How about that?”
Her face lit up, her grin returning as she beamed at him. “Promiseee?”
“Pinky promise,” he muttered, holding up his pinky.
She linked hers with his, swaying slightly as she did.
“Now let me take you home,” he said firmly, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her as she leaned into him.
“M’kay,” she murmured, resting her head against his shoulder.
Katsuki sighed as Rosie stumbled behind him, her wobbling steps making it impossible for her to keep up. He turned and scowled when he saw her struggling to walk in her obnoxiously high heels.
“Take those off,” he ordered, crossing his arms.
“Noooo,” she whined, stomping her foot like a child. “They complete my outfit.”
He clenched his jaw, reminding himself not to argue with a drunk woman. This was a losing battle.
“Fine,” he muttered before stepping forward and scooping her up into his arms. Throwing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, he began striding toward his car.
“Weeeeee!” Rosie giggled, drumming on his back as she hummed some nonsense tune.
By the time they reached the car, Katsuki carefully set her down, leaning her against the vehicle as he opened the passenger door. “Hold still,” he said as he helped her into the seat, buckling her in.
Once he got in and started the car, Rosie leaned over, fiddling with the radio. He let her, as long as it kept her occupied and out of trouble.
She attempted to sing along to the music but kept getting distracted by the lights from the passing buildings. “So many pretty colors,” she mumbled dreamily, staring out the window.
Finally, they arrived at her apartment building. Katsuki parked and immediately went to her side, opening the door.
“UP!” she giggled, holding her arms out like a child.
Katsuki huffed, leaning down to pick her up princess-style. He used his foot to close the car door and nearly froze when she leaned in and kissed his cheek.
“What was that for?” he asked, his face heating up despite himself.
“You’re my boyfriend, aren’t you?” she asked, her wide, innocent eyes peering up at him.
“No, I’m not,” he muttered, trying not to look at her.
“Oh,” she said, blinking. “That’s very disappointing.”
Katsuki swore under his breath. Drunk Rosie is a very flirty Rosie.
“Would you like to be my boyfriend?” she asked, tilting her head in a way that made his heart stutter.
He swallowed hard as he entered the building and pressed the button for the elevator. Watching his reflection in the closing doors, he said, “Sure, pretty girl.”
It’s not like she would remember this conversation tomorrow.
She giggled, resting her head against his chest. “My first boyfriend is super hot.”
He felt his face heat up again. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Rosie shrugged, yawning. “Dunno…”
“Be a good girl and find your apartment key,” Katsuki said as the elevator doors opened.
“Mkay,” she murmured, rummaging through her purse. After a moment, she pulled it out and handed it to him.
He unlocked the door and then paused as the loud beeping of her security system greeted him.
“What’s the code?” he asked.
“0514,” she muttered, burying her face into his chest to block out the sound.
He quickly entered the code, silencing the alarm before closing the door with his foot. Maya, the cotton swab, came yipping excitedly toward him, her tail wagging as she jumped up against his leg.
“Hi, furball,” Katsuki muttered, bending down slightly to pat her head before heading toward Rosie’s bedroom.
Once inside, he gently set Rosie on her bed. Maya hopped up beside her, wagging her tail happily.
Crouching down, Katsuki reached for Rosie’s heels, carefully unbuckling them. As he slid the first one off, Rosie stared down at him, her cheeks flushed pink.
“You look good down there, between my legs” she said, her voice low and sultry.
Katsuki froze, swearing under his breath as his ears turned red. “Shut up,” he muttered, quickly removing the second shoe and setting them aside.
Standing, he made his way to her dresser and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Turning back to her, he held them out. “Change into these.”
“Nope,” she said, crossing her arms. “You’re my boyfriend, so you should do it for me.”
He let out a long sigh, running a hand down his face. “Fine. Turn around.”
She obeyed, giggling softly. Katsuki hesitated before reaching for the zipper of her dress. Closing his eyes tightly, he quickly unzipped it and slid it off her shoulders. Keeping his eyes shut, he grabbed the t-shirt and shorts, dressing her with as much speed and respect as he could manage.
Once done, he opened his eyes to find her staring at him, her cheeks still flushed.
“Get into bed,” he said firmly.
“Nooo,” she whined. “I wanna hang out with my new boyfriend.”
Katsuki groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Rosie, please.”
She looked like she was going to argue but instead stumbled out of the room.
Shit.
“Rosie?” he called, following her.
He found her in the bathroom, hunched over the toilet, her arms braced against the porcelain as she retched. Katsuki sighed and stepped inside, moving to sit on the edge of the tub. Gently, he gathered her hair, holding it out of her face as she continued to throw up.
“It’s okay,” he muttered, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “Get it all out.”
Rosie groaned miserably between heaves, and when she finally stopped, she slumped against the toilet. Her face was flushed, and tears prickled the corners of her eyes. Katsuki grabbed a clean towel from the rack, wetting it in the sink before crouching down and dabbing at her face.
She blinked up at him, her lip trembling. “I puked in front of my super hot new boyfriend,” she whined.
Katsuki huffed a laugh despite himself, his lips twitching at her dramatic tone. Drunk Rosie had no filter whatsoever.
“You’ll live,” he said softly, brushing stray strands of hair away from her face.
Instead of answering, she crawled toward him, settling herself between his legs and laying her head on his thigh. Katsuki froze for a moment, staring down at her before sighing and combing his fingers through her hair.
“How’re you feeling now?” he asked, his voice low and careful.
“Like garbage,” she mumbled, nuzzling against him.
“Think you’re ready to go to bed?”
Rosie tilted her head up to look at him, her wide, tired eyes meeting his. “Only if you stay with me.”
Katsuki’s chest tightened, and he cursed under his breath. “Fine,” he muttered. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”
He bent down and scooped her into his arms, carrying her bridal-style back to her room. Maya greeted them with a soft yip, circling Katsuki’s legs as he walked. He gently laid Rosie down on the bed, tucking the blankets around her.
As soon as she was nestled in, she yawned and closed her eyes, her breathing evening out almost instantly. Katsuki stood there for a moment, watching her sleep.
Shaking his head, he turned and placed a cup of water and some pain meds on her nightstand, along with her phone. He glanced at her one more time before spotting something on the other side of her bed—his jacket, draped neatly on the other side of her bed.
His brows furrowed as he walked over, picking it up. Had she been wearing this recently? He thought about it for a second, then decided against overanalyzing it. Instead, his eyes drifted to the collage of photos on the wall.
Pinned among the snapshots was a strip of photos from the Photo Booth earlier that week, along with their tickets from that day. Katsuki’s chest tightened as he stared at the pictures, remembering the way she was annoyingly smiley.
Turning back to Rosie, he exhaled quietly. Her peaceful expression, the slight smile on her lips even in sleep—it made something in him ache.
“You are such a pain in the ass, pretty girl,” he muttered and then turned and left.
Notes:
I loved writing this chapter!
Chapter 14: I miss her too
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was late Sunday night when Katsuki finally heard from Rosie. He had just finished his homework and wolfed down dinner when his phone lit up with her name: Pretty Girl.
Without hesitation, he answered the call.
“Hello?”
“Katsuki,” her voice came through hoarse and scratchy, a soft rasp that immediately made his chest tighten. “Hi.”
“You just wake up?” he asked, his tone casual, though he was already sitting up straighter.
“No,” she replied with a faint chuckle. “I just got off work.”
“I’ll come pick you up,” he offered, already on his feet and reaching for his keys.
“No need,” she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “Shinso drove me home.”
Katsuki’s jaw clenched instinctively.
Damn that fucking brainwashing quirk extra.
“I wanted to call and thank you, but I overslept this morning and was almost late for my shift,” she continued, her words pouring out in a tired ramble. “Then we got slammed at work—it was just Shinso and me because Kanako called out, along with everyone else. I didn’t even get a break. And when I finally got home, I had to take care of Maya. It’s been one thing after another, but I’ve been meaning to call you all day.”
He glanced at the clock: 10:17 p.m.
“You eaten yet?” he asked, his voice softening.
“Currently shoveling leftovers into my mouth,” she replied with a yawn. “Thank you, by the way. For taking care of me last night. I know I’m a handful and a pain in the ass when I get drunk, but you came all the way to get me. That was... really sweet.”
Katsuki snorted, walking toward his bedroom. “Next time you go out, tell me. I’ll go with you.”
“Are nightclubs even your thing?” she teased, the smile evident in her tone.
“Do you not know who my friends are?” he shot back, his smirk audible even through the phone.
He could imagine her blush on the other end of the line, and it made his smirk deepen.
“You make a valid point,” she admitted, her voice soft now, almost like a whisper directly in his ear.
Katsuki swallowed hard, forcing his pulse to settle. “Anyway, enough about my day. How was yours?” she asked gently.
“Kirishima came over. Then I hit the gym,” he said, kicking his door shut behind him.
“Lucky you,” Rosie sighed.
He conveniently left out the part where he spent a good chunk of the day scrolling through her Linked page, analyzing every post and photo. That would’ve made him sound like a creep, so he lied.
“You shouldn’t have drank so much,” he muttered, pulling his shirt off and tossing it toward the laundry basket.
“I didn’t plan to,” she huffed, her voice muffled as if she were moving around. “I knew I had to work today, but this group of guys kept buying us drinks.”
Katsuki frowned. “Not the guys you went with?”
“No, they were buying drinks for their girlfriends. Then they disappeared with them,” she explained. “Kanako met some guy, and... well, you know the rest.”
A faint yipping sound came through the phone, making him smirk.
“How is she awake?”
“She’s upset I didn’t give her attention as soon as I walked in the door,” Rosie replied with a laugh. “Hang on.”
Katsuki heard the shuffle of her feet and the soft click of a bowl being set down. “Here you go, baby,” she cooed, her voice melting into something gentle and affectionate. He heard the sound of water running, and she sighed. “I’m washing my face, so don’t hang up.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, leaning back in his bed with one arm behind his head. “
He imagined her standing at the sink, her hair pulled back, her skin glowing under the bathroom lights. The thought made his stomach twist in a way he wasn’t used to.
“You gonna sleep okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now.
“Probably,” she murmured. “Talking to you helps, though.”
His breath caught for a second before he forced himself to relax. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said softly. “Your voice is... calming. When you aren’t screaming and raging that is”
Katsuki rubbed the back of his neck, glad she couldn’t see the way his ears were burning. “Good.”
Her voice went soft, low, “thanks again for last night. You’re a good... friend.”
Friend. The word stung more than it should have.
“Get some sleep, Rosie,” he said firmly, pushing the thought aside.
“Goodnight, Katsuki,” she said softly, and the line went dead.
Katsuki stared at his phone for a long moment before tossing it onto his nightstand, rubbing his hand over his face with a sigh.
“Friend, my ass,” he muttered before flipping over in bed.
If Katsuki wasn’t in class, at the gym, or working, he was with Rosie. Whether it was hanging out at his apartment or hers, they filled their time together with homework, video games, takeout, and movies. It had become such a natural rhythm that Katsuki barely noticed how much time they spent together—until he realized he didn’t want it any other way.
He had planned to ask her to see a movie with him on Friday night, but those plans were derailed when they walked out of the science building after class, heading toward his car. Rosie’s phone had been buzzing nonstop since the lecture ended.
“Who the hell is blowing up your phone?” Katsuki grumbled, glancing at her as they walked.
“The girls, probably,” Rosie said, muting her phone and shoving it into her backpack.
“Why?”
“They want me to go to the spa with them this weekend,” she explained with a sigh. “But Dad already has plans with Uncle Mic for some guys’ trip, and I have no one to take care of Maya, so I said no.”
Katsuki stopped mid-step, turning to look at her. “I’ll take care of her.”
Rosie froze and stared at him, her wide eyes full of surprise. “Oh really?”
“Yeah, really,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets like it was no big deal.
Her face lit up, and before he could react, she grabbed his arm, pulling him into a tight hug. “You are amazing,” she gushed, her arms wrapping around his neck as she practically yanked him down to her level. “This means so much to me.”
Caught off guard, Katsuki hesitated for half a second before wrapping his arms around her, pulling her closer. “It’s just a dog, Rosie,” he muttered, though the faint pink dusting his cheeks betrayed him.
That was how he found himself at her apartment, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed as Rosie rushed around, packing her bag and Maya’s things into a separate bag. Maya was a whirlwind of excitement, her tail wagging furiously as she darted around the apartment, chasing after Rosie and occasionally pawing at her legs.
“You’re gonna exhaust her before you even leave,” Katsuki teased, watching as Rosie zipped her suitcase shut and hurried over to grab Maya’s leash.
“I just want to make sure I don’t forget anything,” she said, throwing him a sheepish grin. “What if I leave something important behind?”
“She’s a dog, not a toddler,” Katsuki said, smirking as Maya barked up at him.
When they finally stepped out of the apartment and into the elevator, Rosie began rattling off instructions like she was leaving him with a newborn.
“Okay, so Maya eats twice a day—one cup of food in the morning and one in the evening. Her treats are in the side pocket of her bag, but don’t give her too many or she’ll get hyper. She needs to go out at least three times a day, and make sure to take her for at least one walk so she gets some exercise.”
“Got it,” Katsuki said, watching her as she pressed her lips together, clearly debating if she’d forgotten anything.
“Oh!” Rosie suddenly checked her phone as it buzzed in her hand. “Mina just texted—they’re waiting for me out front.”
When the elevator doors opened into the lobby, she turned to Katsuki, her smile softening as she held out her arms. “Thank you again for doing this.” She hugged him tightly, resting her head against his chest for a moment.
Katsuki’s arms came up to hold her, his chin resting lightly on top of her head. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “Just go enjoy yourself.”
She pulled back, beaming up at him. “I’ll text you later—and I’ll FaceTime you tonight to check in on you both, okay?”
“Whatever,” Katsuki said, shrugging as if the thought didn’t make his chest tighten in the best way.
Rosie grabbed the handle of her pink suitcase and waved as she headed out the lobby doors. Katsuki stood there, Maya cradled in one arm while he carried her bag with the other. Maya whimpered, her ears drooping as she watched Rosie walk away.
“I’m gonna miss her too,” Katsuki admitted, glancing down at the small dog. Maya looked up at him with big, sorrowful eyes, and he sighed. “Yeah, I get it. She’s impossible not to miss.”
As the lobby doors closed, he turned to head back to his car, Maya snug against his chest. “Guess it’s just you and me, furball.”
Once back at his apartment, Katsuki let Maya down, watching as the small dog darted around the space like she was on a mission. He closed the door behind him and dropped her bag onto the kitchen island. Stretching his arms above his head, he turned back to see Maya bouncing on her hind legs in a circle, her tail wagging furiously.
“You’re a hyper little thing, huh?” he muttered, crouching down to give her a quick scratch behind the ears.
He had no work today, no pressing responsibilities. But that also meant… “What the hell am I supposed to do now?” he grumbled under his breath.
As if on cue, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen. Kirishima. Never in his life had he been so grateful for the guy’s impeccable timing.
“Yo, man!” Kirishima’s voice boomed through the speaker. “Girls are gone, so you know what that means—guys’ night?”
Katsuki let out a sigh of relief. “Yeah, sure. My place.”
About thirty minutes later, Katsuki heard a knock on the door. He opened it to find Kirishima standing there, holding a bag of snacks and a two cases of beer.
“Yo!” Kirishima grinned, stepping inside. The redhead froze mid-step as Maya came bounding up to him, barking excitedly. “Wait a second…” Kirishima smirked. “You offered to dog-sit for Rosie, didn’t you? That’s why you’re not at the gym and why Mina was much happier after getting off the phone with Rosie.”
Katsuki groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, I did. So what?”
Kirishima laughed, shaking his head as he plopped onto the couch. “Man, you’ve got it bad.” He reached down to pet Maya, who eagerly wagged her tail at the attention.
Katsuki grabbed a controller and sat next to him, tossing one of the other controllers at Kirishima. “Shut up and let’s kill zombies”
Kirishima continued to grin, scratching Maya behind the ears. “I’m just saying. You wouldn’t offer to dogsit. Especially a hyper little thing like this.”
Ignoring the teasing, Katsuki focused on the menu screen. Maya, after enjoying Kirishima’s attention for a bit, padded back over to Katsuki and leaped onto the couch, settling comfortably in his lap.
“Traitor,” Kirishima joked as he grabbed his own controller.
They played a few rounds, trading insults and trash talk. Midway through their session, Kirishima ordered pizza, leaving Katsuki to fend off a few in-game attacks.
When the game paused, Kirishima leaned back and glanced around. “So… how’s it going with Rosie?”
Katsuki kept his eyes on the screen, his jaw tightening slightly. “I can’t tell if she likes me or not,” he admitted after a beat. “But… we’ve gotten close.”
“Close?” Kirishima repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Dude, you’re way past close.” He gestured around the room. “You’ve got her stuff here. Look—there’s one of her sweaters on the couch, another one on the kitchen table, and… is that a pink pen on your coffee table?”
Katsuki blinked, looking around. Sure enough, there was a white-colored sweater draped over the couch arm, a light pink one tossed casually on the kitchen table, and a bright pink pen sitting near the remote. He frowned. “I didn’t even notice.”
Kirishima grinned. “That’s because it’s natural now. She’s comfortable with you, man. That’s a big deal.” He gestured at Maya, who was snuggled into Katsuki’s lap. “And you’re dog-sitting her baby. If that’s not trust, I don’t know what is.”
Katsuki stared down at Maya, his hand absentmindedly running over her soft fur. Kirishima’s words settled in his chest, leaving a strange warmth in their wake. Maybe he wasn’t as clueless about where he stood with Rosie as he thought.
“Yeah,” Katsuki muttered, almost to himself. “Trust is different from her actually liking me.”
Kirishima gave him a knowing look as he leaned back against the couch, arms spread wide. “You bolted out last weekend when she drunk-called you. That’s gotta count for something.”
Katsuki groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t remind me.”
“What happened anyway?” Kirishima asked, grinning as if he already knew it was going to be a good story.
“She called me hot,” Katsuki started flatly, his voice dripping with exasperation.
Kirishima’s grin widened. “Well, she’s not wrong.”
“Shut it,” Katsuki snapped, narrowing his eyes at him. “Then she asked me to be her boyfriend.”
Kirishima’s eyebrows shot up, and he let out a low whistle. “Oh, really? What did you say?”
Katsuki hesitated, glaring at the controller in his hands like it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the room. “I said yes.”
Kirishima froze mid-laugh, his jaw hanging open. “Wait—you said yes?!”
“She was drunk,” Katsuki emphasized, finally looking up. “She wasn’t gonna remember it the next day. What was I supposed to say, no? She looked at me like I’d kicked her damn dog.”
“Dude, that’s… wow.” Kirishima sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What else did she say?”
Katsuki sighed, leaning back into the couch. “She wouldn’t stop calling me her ‘super-hot boyfriend.’ Said I looked good down on the floor while I was taking her heels off. The whole thing was a mess.”
Kirishima’s laughter echoed through the room. “Oh man, drunk Rosie sounds bold!”
“Bold doesn’t even cover it,” Katsuki muttered, running a hand through his hair. “She made me change her into her pajamas. Kept saying stupid stuff like how lucky she was to have me.” His cheeks flushed slightly as the memories replayed in his mind.
“Okay, first of all, you changed her into pajamas?” Kirishima smirked. “That’s boyfriend-level dedication right there. And second…” He paused, his expression softening. “You don’t sound mad about it.”
Katsuki scowled. “I’m not mad about it, idiot. I’m just… confused. I don’t know if that’s how she really feels, or if it was just the alcohol talking.”
“Sounds to me like drunk Rosie just let slip what sober Rosie’s been hiding,” Kirishima said thoughtfully, tapping a finger to his chin. “People don’t usually say stuff like that unless there’s some truth to it.”
Katsuki stayed quiet, his jaw tight as he mulled over Kirishima’s words. He hated how much they made sense.
“You like her, don’t you?” Kirishima pressed after a beat, leaning closer with a teasing grin.
Katsuki didn’t deny it. Instead, he crossed his arms and muttered, “Doesn’t matter if I do. What matters is figuring out how I can maintain breathing if her Dad finds out.”
Kirishima laughed, “I am so glad to not be you.”
He responded by flipping him off.
Using a towel to dry his damp hair, Katsuki stepped out of the bathroom, the steam following him as he adjusted the waistband of his gray sweatpants. He paused mid-step when he noticed the white fluffball sitting in the middle of his living room, staring up at him expectantly with her dark, shiny eyes.
“Uh…want a treat or something?” he asked, feeling slightly ridiculous for talking to a dog.
Maya’s response was immediate. She barked happily and began hopping on her hind legs, twirling in excited little circles.
Katsuki blinked. “You’re a weird little thing,” he muttered, but couldn’t help the slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
Growing up, he never wanted a pet. There was no room in his life for one—not with how focused he’d been on perfecting his quirk, excelling in school, and chasing the dream of becoming the number one Pro Hero. Pets were distractions, things for people who didn’t have time bombs for hands.
But the war against All for One had changed everything. Nearly dying had a way of shifting perspectives. It wasn’t just him; his entire class had reevaluated their priorities after the dust settled. Aizawa and All Might had both encouraged them to live like normal civilians for a while, to experience life beyond hero work before deciding if they truly wanted to dedicate themselves to the profession.
So now here he was, standing in his apartment, shirtless, while trying to entertain a fluffball that wasn’t even his.
Reaching for the bag of treats on the counter, he pulled one out and held it up. Maya immediately spun three perfect circles before plopping her butt down, staring at him with unwavering anticipation.
Katsuki’s brows lifted slightly. “You know tricks too, huh?” He tossed the treat into the air, watching as Maya leapt gracefully to catch it.
“Not bad,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Cool dog.”
The sound of his phone buzzing broke the moment. He glanced at the screen, the contact name: Pretty Girl flashing with an incoming FaceTime call. His pulse quickened, and he swiped to accept without hesitation.
The screen lit up with Rosie’s smiling face, and Katsuki felt an immediate sense of relief wash over him. She was okay.
“Katsuki,” she greeted, her voice warm and light.
His sharp eyes took in the details behind her—she was lounging somewhere that screamed luxury, wearing a silk white robe with her name monogrammed on it in delicate embroidery. Her hair was wrapped in a towel, and a glass of white wine sat on the table behind her, catching the golden light of a nearby lamp.
“Looks like you’re settling in,” Katsuki said, his voice softer than usual as he leaned against the counter, his phone held up.
Rosie grinned, brushing a stray strand of damp hair from her cheek. “Yeah, the girls are making the most of this weekend. How’s everything there? Maya giving you a hard time yet?”
“She’s fine,” he said, glancing down at the dog, who was now curled up on the rug, chewing on her treat. “Didn’t realize she could do tricks.”
“Of course she can! She’s a smart girl,” Rosie said with a mock gasp, laughing.
Katsuki smirked faintly, his eyes flicking back to her. “You look like you’re having fun.”
“I am,” she admitted, swirling the wine in her glass before taking a sip. “But I was thinking about you two and wanted to check in. How’s everything else?”
“Quiet,” he replied, glancing around his apartment. “Maya’s been keeping me company. Kirishima stopped by earlier, but he left a while ago.”
“Did you at least eat dinner?” she asked, tilting her head.
“Yeah. Pizza,” he said, shrugging.
Rosie chuckled, her eyes twinkling. “Classic. Well, you’re doing a great job so far. Maya looks happy.”
Katsuki’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Yeah, well... don’t get used to me dog sitting. This is a one-time deal.”
“Uh-huh, sure,” Rosie teased, leaning back in her chair. “You’re a big softie, Katsuki. Admit it.”
“Tch.” He rolled his eyes, but the warmth in his chest betrayed him.
They chatted for a while longer, her voice soothing and her laughter infectious. As the call wound down, Rosie smiled softly at him.
“Thanks again, Katsuki. I’ll FaceTime you again tomorrow, okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice low but genuine. “Get some rest.”
“You too.” With a little wave, she ended the call, leaving Katsuki staring at the blank screen for a moment before setting his phone down.
Maya let out a quiet yip, as if sensing the shift in the room. Katsuki looked down at her and smirked faintly.
“She’s something else, huh?” he muttered, leaning down to scratch behind her ears. “Yeah, I still miss her too.”
Notes:
Ahhh, I’m debating on going with the rule of posting twice in a day sometimes😩
Chapter 15: You're my best friend
Chapter Text
It was Sunday evening when Katsuki stepped into his apartment, letting the door click shut behind him. Maya’s excited yipping echoed through the space as the little cotton swab darted toward him, her tail wagging furiously. She twirled in circles, her energy boundless as always, and Katsuki sighed, though a faint smirk tugged at his lips.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m home,” he muttered, kicking off his boots and tossing his keys onto the counter. He crouched down to scratch behind her ears. “You hungry, huh?”
Maya barked in response, spinning again, her excitement contagious as she padded to her food bowl. Katsuki grabbed her food from the bag and poured it in, watching as she dug in without hesitation.
“Guess I’ve gotten used to you, fluffball,” he murmured, running a hand through his hair.
The sound of a knock at the door broke the quiet, causing him to frown. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Straightening, he padded over and swung the door open, ready to send whoever it was on their way.
His scowl instantly softened when he saw Rosie standing there, beaming up at him. She was dressed in black high-waisted jean shorts that showed off her legs, paired with a white corset top and a dark red cardigan that fell loosely around her shoulders.
“Surprise!” she chirped, her voice light and full of warmth. “I got back early.”
For a moment, Katsuki just stared at her, his brain catching up to the sight of her standing on his doorstep, looking every bit as radiant as she always did.
“You’re back?” he finally managed, his voice gruff as he stepped aside to let her in.
“Yep,” she said, stepping into the apartment with a bounce in her step. “The girls were all heading out early, and I figured I’d come see my favorite dog-sitter.” She gave him a teasing grin.
“Favorite, huh?” he muttered, shutting the door behind her as Maya bounded over, yipping and wagging her tail at the sight of Rosie.
“There’s my girl!” Rosie cooed, crouching to greet Maya. She scratched behind her ears, laughing as the dog spun around her in circles before plopping down at her feet. “You took good care of her, huh, Katsuki?”
“She didn’t starve, if that’s what you’re asking,” he replied, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall, watching the reunion.
Rosie glanced up at him, her smile softening. “Thank you. Really. I know she can be a handful sometimes.”
“She’s not so bad,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.
Rosie straightened, brushing her hands against her shorts as she looked around the apartment. Her gaze landed on one of her sweaters draped over the back of the couch, and she raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.
“You kept my sweater here, huh? Sentimental much?”
Katsuki groaned, his ears tinging pink. “Tch. You left it. Not my fault.”
She giggled, stepping closer to him. “Well, I’m glad to know it was in good hands.”
He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the faint smirk that appeared as she brushed past him to grab for Maya’s leash.
“Missed me?” she teased, tilting her head to look at him.
“Maybe,” he muttered, his voice low but sincere.
Her smile widened, her cheeks tinting faintly pink. “Good, because I missed you too.” Then she blinked, “were you heading out to go to work?”
“I just got off actually,” Katsuki tossed the red hat onto the island.
“Would you like to join me in taking Maya to the dog park if you don’t have any plans?”
“Lemme change while you grab her things,” he grunted, heading toward his bedroom. Tugging off his shirt, he tossed it into the hamper and quickly changed into a plain black t-shirt that hugged his frame. He grabbed a pair of dark jeans, tugging them on before slipping into his well-worn sneakers. Shrugging on a gray jacket, he ran a hand through his hair, ensuring it wasn’t sticking up too much, and made his way back out.
Rosie stood by the door, her face lit with amusement as she adjusted the straps of a pink backpack slung over her shoulder. Katsuki raised an eyebrow.
“Can’t believe that you have a bag just for a do” he snorted, nodding toward it.
“Of course,” she replied with a grin, holding up the pink leash in her hand. “It’s got her water bottle, some treats, and her collapsible bowl. She’s a girl with standards.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at his lips. “Like her owner,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Maya barked excitedly, running in circles around them as Rosie clipped the leash to her collar. The little dog wagged her tail furiously, her energy palpable.
“Calm down, fluffball,” Katsuki muttered, stepping aside as Rosie opened the door.
They walked out of his building together, the warm evening air wrapping around them as they made their way to the dog park a few blocks away. Maya trotted ahead, occasionally glancing back to ensure Rosie and Katsuki were keeping up.
“So,” Katsuki started, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “How was the girls’ spa weekend?”
Rosie’s eyes lit up as she glanced over at him. “Oh, it was amazing. We went to this super fancy resort out in the countryside. They had everything—massages, facials, mud baths, you name it. I didn’t realize how much I needed it until I was there.”
She adjusted the strap of the backpack, her smile growing. “Mina made us all do this group yoga session, which I thought was going to be a disaster because she kept laughing at the instructor’s poses. But it actually ended up being a lot of fun.”
“Sounds like something she’d do,” Katsuki muttered, smirking.
“Oh, and the food!” Rosie continued, her enthusiasm contagious. “They had this incredible buffet with all these healthy options, but we all kind of gravitated toward the dessert table. Uraraka practically lived off chocolate mousse the entire time.”
Katsuki chuckled. “Typical.”
“Yeah,” she said with a fond smile. “It was nice to just unwind and not have to worry about anything for a couple of days. But honestly…” She glanced over at him, her cheeks tinting pink. “I missed being home with Maya…and yo-Dad.”
He blinked, before clearing his throat as he caught onto what she had almost said. “Tch, well, the fluffball missed you too. She’s been pacing the place since Friday.”
Rosie giggled, looking down at Maya, who barked in agreement as if she understood.
By the time they reached the dog park, the air was filled with the sound of barking dogs and laughter from other pet owners. Katsuki opened the gate, letting Rosie lead Maya inside. As the little dog took off to explore, Rosie leaned against the fence, her face soft with contentment.
Katsuki stood beside her, watching Maya dart around. “Glad you got to relax,” he said, his voice quieter.
Rosie looked over at him, her smile warm. “Thanks, Katsuki. For watching her. And for this.”
He shrugged, his gaze fixed on the fluffy whirlwind chasing after a ball. “Not a big deal.”
But the way she looked at him, her expression full of gratitude, made him think that maybe it was. “How was your weekend?”
“I worked, went to the gym and hung out with Kirishima but I mostly stayed home with the cotton swab.”
Rosie started laughing, “cotton swab?”
“She looks like one.”
“Want to come over? I’m making dinner tonight.” Rosie smiled, “the least I can do for you after taking care of my baby this weekend.”
“Sure,”
He had planned on going to the gym but he would much rather spend time with her.
“Perfect!”
Once they arrived at Rosie’s apartment, Katsuki watched as Maya darted toward her basket in the corner of the living room. The little cotton swab spun in circles before flopping down with a satisfied huff, her tail wagging lazily.
Rosie headed straight for the fridge, pulling out a cold beer. She slid it across the marble island toward Katsuki, her smile warm. “Got your favorite brand.”
He raised an eyebrow as he caught it. “Did you plan this?”
She shook her head, opening the fridge again to rummage for something. “Nope. I bought them Thursday when I went grocery shopping. I didn’t plan on going out, remember? Figured it’d be nice to stock up on stuff you like since you’re over here so much.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “Hmph. Thoughtful.”
“You’re my best friend,” she teased, pulling out a cutting board and some vegetables. “I’ve never had a male friend before, much less a male best friend.”
“So I'm the first?” He asked
“I can only have one so you’re the only one who will hold that title silly,” she flashed him a smile before turning away to grab another knife.
He could only stare at her, her words swimming in his mind. Clearing his throat, he popped the cap off the bottle and leaned back against the barstool, taking a long sip. The cool liquid slid down his throat as he watched her rinse and dry the vegetables at the sink. She moved with a practiced ease, grabbing a knife and starting to slice carrots into thin, precise sticks.
“What’re you making?” he asked, resting his forearms on the counter.
“Veggie stir-fry with Sukiyaki,” she said, not looking up as she worked. “I’ve been craving it all day.”
Katsuki grunted in acknowledgment, his eyes lingering on her hands as they moved deftly over the cutting board. The rhythmic sound of the knife meeting wood filled the comfortable silence between them.
After a moment, he spoke again. “What was your life like in America?”
Rosie paused briefly, her knife hovering over the half-chopped zucchini. She glanced up at him, her expression thoughtful. “It was… quiet, I guess. I grew up with just my mom. Both my grandparents had passed away before I was born, so it was just the two of us most of the time.”
“Must’ve been lonely,” Katsuki muttered, swirling the beer in his hand.
“It could be,” she admitted, returning to her chopping. “But I had Akira, a girl who lived on the same street. She is my only real friend. We did everything together—sleepovers, homework, you name it. She is like a sister to me.”
He tilted his head. “Why only Akira?”
Rosie exhaled, her shoulders lifting in a small shrug. “I was shy. Big groups of people overwhelmed me, and I never really knew how to put myself out there. Because of that, people thought I was stuck up, that I looked down on them. It wasn’t true, but…” She hesitated, her knife slowing. “Kids in middle school can be cruel. I got bullied a lot.”
Katsuki’s jaw tightened, leaning back against the bar, watching Rosie as she spoke. Her words about being bullied made something in his chest tighten. He’d never given much thought to how his own actions as a kid might’ve felt to others, but hearing her talk about it made him feel an uncomfortable pang of guilt. Sure, he’d been a bully—mostly to Deku—but he wouldn’t have bullied her. Not someone as sweet and kind as Rosie. Grimacing, he swallowed a long sip of his beer, hoping she didn’t notice the shift in his expression.
“When the war started here,” she continued, her voice quieter now, “I was terrified for my dad. I worried all the time about what might happen to him. When I asked my parents if I could come visit him in Japan, they both refused. Said it was too dangerous.”
Katsuki arched a brow, surprised at the steel that crept into her tone. “What’d you do?”
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she focused on chopping another carrot. “I got upset. I told them I wanted to help. My quirk could’ve healed so many people. But they wouldn’t budge. They said I was better off staying in America.”
“They were right,” Katsuki said bluntly, his crimson eyes narrowing as he leaned forward.
Rosie’s hands stilled for a moment, and she looked up at him. “You think so?”
“Yeah.” He set the bottle down with a dull clink. “You think you were ready for what was going on here? The League of Villains didn’t give a damn about quirks or heroes. You’d have been a target the second you stepped foot in the middle of it.”
She frowned but didn’t argue, instead grabbing a pot and setting it on the stove. “Maybe. But it still felt wrong to just… stay there and do nothing.”
Katsuki exhaled sharply, his gaze softening as he watched her pour broth into the pot for sukiyaki. “You did the right thing, Rosie. You don’t know how bad it was here.”
She glanced at him, her curiosity evident. “What was it like?”
He didn’t answer right away, his fingers drumming against the bottle as he thought back. “Hell,” he said finally. “The kind of stuff that doesn’t leave you even after it’s over. Everyone was fighting for their lives, and half of us were just kids pretending to be heroes.”
Rosie stopped what she was doing to listen, her full attention on him.
“I almost didn’t make it out,” Katsuki admitted, his voice low. “I died, Rosie. My heart stopped. Would’ve stayed that way if Edgeshot hadn’t sacrificed himself to save me. Took me a long time to wrap my head around that.”
Her eyes widened, her hand frozen mid-reach for the soy sauce. “You… died?”
“Yeah.” He traced the rim of the beer bottle with his thumb, his jaw tightening. “Got this stupid scar to show for it, too.”
Rosie’s gaze flickered to the faint jagged line on his face, her expression softening. “Is that how you got it?”
“Yeah,” he said gruffly, avoiding her eyes. “Ugly, isn’t it?”
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she turned off the stove, wiped her hands on a towel, and walked around the island to stand in front of him. Katsuki stiffened as she leaned in, her fingers gently brushing against his jaw before tracing the scar down his cheek.
“It’s not ugly,” she said softly, her touch lingering. “It makes you handsome. I prefer it, actually.”
His breath caught in his throat, and for once, he couldn’t think of a snarky comeback. Her words—and the sincerity in her voice—left him completely disarmed.
Rosie pulled her hand back, her cheeks slightly pink as she smiled. “You’re strong, Katsuki. And scars don’t make you any less of that. They just show what you’ve been through.”
He swallowed hard, his gaze locking with hers. “You’re something else, you know that?”
She laughed lightly, the sound breaking the tension in the room. “Come on, Mr. Grumpy. Dinner’s almost ready.”
Katsuki watched her as she returned to the stove, a warmth spreading through his chest.
After dinner, the two of them settled on the couch in her living room. The soft glow of the TV illuminated the space as a movie played, but Katsuki found his attention drifting. Rosie sat cross-legged beside him, a basket of laundry in front of her as she folded shirts and socks with practiced ease. He tried to focus on the screen, but his mind kept pulling him back to darker places—memories of the war, the moments he had stared death in the face, and the scars that came with it, both visible and invisible.
“Katsuki?”
Her voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present.
“What?” he asked, his tone gruff but not unkind.
She paused, looking over at him. “Did you not like the movie?”
He blinked at her, realizing he hadn’t been paying attention at all. “Yeah, I got distracted thinking about my work schedule for this week.”
Rosie tilted her head, her expression skeptical but patient. “That’s a pretty lame excuse, you know.”
He huffed, crossing his arms. “What do you want me to say, huh?”
“I don’t know, maybe the truth?” she said, setting down a folded shirt. “You’ve been quiet all evening, Katsuki. Even for you.”
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he considered brushing her off. But the gentle concern in her eyes made him hesitate. Letting out a slow breath, he leaned back against the couch, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.
“Just… thinking about stuff,” he admitted finally.
She didn’t push him, instead folding another shirt in silence, waiting for him to continue.
“The war,” he said after a long pause, his voice quieter than usual. “What it was like. What I… went through.”
Rosie stopped folding, turning her full attention to him. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He shrugged, still staring at the ceiling. “Not really. But it’s hard not to think about it sometimes, you know? Facing all that crap…dying. It screws with your head.”
She nodded slowly, her hands resting in her lap. “I can’t imagine what that was like. But I know you’re stronger for having gone through it. And you’re still here, Katsuki. That says a lot.”
He glanced at her, his crimson eyes softening. “Doesn’t always feel like it. Feels like I got lucky more than anything.”
“Maybe you did,” she said gently, “but luck isn’t a bad thing. It’s what you do with it that matters. And you’ve been doing a lot of good since then, haven’t you?”
He didn’t respond right away, his gaze shifting back to the ceiling. “Yeah, I guess,” he muttered.
Rosie smiled, leaning over to nudge his arm with her elbow. “Shouldn’t sell yourself short, you’re my best friend after all.”
All week, Katsuki found himself wandering into Rosie’s workplace more often than he cared to admit. The cozy coffee shop she worked at had become his unofficial headquarters for “homework sessions” with Kirishima and Kaminari. At least, that was the excuse he used.
When he first stormed in, the bell above the door jingling loudly, Rosie was behind the counter, tying her apron. She looked up, her face lighting up with a surprised smile.
“Katsuki?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, waving her off as he headed for a corner table. “Here to babysit these idiots.”
Kirishima and Kaminari were already seated, surrounded by books and half-filled worksheets. Both perked up when they saw him, Kaminari groaning dramatically.
“Aw, man, I thought we were just chilling here, not actually studying!”
“You’re failing,” Katsuki snapped, dropping his bag onto the table with a loud thud. “You don’t have the luxury of ‘chilling.’”
Rosie stifled a laugh from behind the counter as she watched him pull out a notebook and slam it onto the table with enough force to rattle their drinks. She walked over, holding a tray with their orders—a large black coffee for Katsuki, a cappuccino for Kirishima, and an iced coffee for Kaminari.
“Homework or death threats?” she teased as she set the drinks down.
Katsuki smirked. “Both.”
For the next hour, the coffee shop echoed with his gruff voice as he barked explanations about quadratic equations and history timelines. Anytime Kaminari zoned out or Kirishima got an answer wrong, he rolled up his notebook and smacked them on the head with it.
“Are you even listening, Sparky?!” Katsuki growled after Kaminari doodled on his worksheet instead of solving the problem.
“I was!” Kaminari whined, rubbing his head where the notebook had landed.
“Then what’s the answer?”
“Uh…” Kaminari stared at his paper, panicked.
“Exactly. You weren’t,” Katsuki said, smacking him again.
Kirishima tried to intervene. “Come on, man, go easy—”
WHACK.
“Don’t start, Shitty Hair,” Katsuki warned, glaring at him.
Rosie walked by, holding a tray of drinks for another table, and chuckled softly at the scene. He caught her glance and felt a flicker of something warm in his chest when he saw her smile.
By the third day of this routine, Rosie wasn’t even surprised when he walked in, the bell announcing his presence as he waved to her casually before sitting down at the usual table. She made sure to set aside his favorite coffee without him needing to ask, and occasionally, she’d stop by to check on their progress.
“So,” she said during one of her breaks, leaning on the counter beside their table, “are you guys actually learning anything, or is he just terrorizing you?”
“I’m learning!” Kirishima said quickly, raising his hand like a student trying to impress the teacher.
Kaminari groaned, resting his forehead on the table. “I feel like I’m in boot camp.”
Rosie grinned, looking at Katsuki. “You’d make a scary tutor.”
“Good,” Katsuki said with a sharp smirk. “It’s the only way these idiots will learn.”
She laughed, and Katsuki felt a strange sense of satisfaction hearing it. Sure, he came here to help his friends, or so he told himself, but the way Rosie’s face lit up whenever he walked through the door made him tolerating tutoring the two worth it.
However he had grown distracted as she applied her strawberry lip gloss with a wide smile. He wanted to know what it would taste like when he kissed her.
Katsuki groaned as he downed his black coffee, ignoring the burn of the hot black coffee as it went down his throat. Rosie just giggled before waving at them as she went to talk to the blue haired girl, Kanako, behind the counter.
“Do you hit her when you tutor her?” Kaminari rubbed his head
Kirishima smirked, “doubt it.”
“She is capable of listening unlike you two,” Katsuki snorted, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat.
Leaving class on Friday, Katsuki walked alongside Mina, Kirishima, Kaminari, Jirou, and Rosie. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the campus as the group made their way toward the quad. Mina and Rosie were up ahead, deep in conversation, with Jirou chiming in now and then. Katsuki followed behind, his hands shoved into his pockets, Kirishima on one side and Kaminari on the other, both chattering away about the latest news or something.
But Katsuki wasn’t listening. His focus was entirely on Rosie. The lace hem of her plaid skirt swayed in the breeze as she walked, the movement effortlessly captivating. She laughed at something Mina said, her voice carrying back to him, and Katsuki found his lips twitching upward in the faintest of smirks.
“Yo, you listening, bro?” Kirishima nudged him, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“What?” Katsuki grunted, tearing his eyes away from Rosie.
“I said, should we hit up the ramen place for lunch?”
“Sure. Whatever,” Katsuki muttered, his tone dismissive, though he cast another quick glance toward Rosie.
When they reached the quad, the group unanimously decided on ramen. It wasn’t long before they were crammed into a booth at their favorite spot, bowls of steaming noodles placed in front of them. The chatter was lively, the table filled with laughter and the clinking of chopsticks against bowls.
Halfway through the meal, Mina’s eyes lit up as she turned to the group. “Oh! Did you guys hear? Tetsutetsu’s throwing a party at his place tonight!”
“A party?” Kaminari perked up, grinning. “Hell yeah, I’m in.”
“You would be,” Jirou teased, rolling her eyes.
“You guys should all come!” Mina said, her excitement bubbling over. “It’s going to be so much fun!”
“I’ve never been to a party before,” Rosie admitted softly, her voice curious yet uncertain. Her wide eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and nervousness, and she glanced around the table.
Katsuki, who had been quietly eating, paused mid-bite. He couldn’t help but notice the way her expression brightened, the subtle anticipation in her gaze. He already knew, without a doubt, that he was going to end up going.
“Oh my gosh, Rosie!” Mina gasped, practically bouncing in her seat. “We have to fix that. You’re coming tonight, no arguments!”
“I don’t know,” Rosie said hesitantly. “I have chemistry class later—”
“Ditch it!” Mina interrupted, waving her hand dismissively.
“Yeah,” Jirou agreed, smirking. “It’s Friday. Who cares about chemistry when you’ve got a party to go to?”
Mina leaned closer, practically begging. “Come on, Rosie! We’ll go shopping for outfits and then get ready together at your place. It’ll be so much fun!”
Rosie bit her lip, glancing between Mina and Jirou. “I guess… I mean, okay. Why not?”
“Yesss!” Mina cheered, pumping her fist in the air.
As the girls launched into a discussion about where to shop, Kirishima and Kaminari turned to Katsuki, who had been quietly observing the whole exchange.
“What about you, man?” Kirishima asked, grinning. “You coming?”
Katsuki snorted, leaning back in his seat. “Like I’ve got a choice with all this noise.”
Kaminari laughed, slapping the table. “That’s the spirit! It’s going to be wild, dude.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. His gaze flickered back to Rosie, who was now chatting animatedly with Mina about outfit ideas. He wasn’t particularly thrilled about parties, but if Rosie is going, he’d make damn sure he is there too.
Chapter 16: Is it normal to find your best friend attractive?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The warm water bubbled around Rosie and Mina as they lounged in the hot tub, glasses of wine in hand. Rosie tilted her head back, letting the soothing heat ease her muscles as the scent of lavender and eucalyptus from nearby candles filled the air.
“This spa weekend was such a good idea,” Mina said, swirling her wine lazily. “We deserve this. What are you thinking about getting tomorrow? Massage? Facial?”
Rosie sipped her wine, letting the rich flavor linger on her tongue. “Both, probably. I could use a deep-tissue massage after everything that’s been going on.”
Mina giggled. “Same. But you have to come with me for a mud bath. They say it’s detoxifying or whatever.”
“Detoxifying, huh?” Rosie grinned. “Fine, but if I end up looking like a swamp creature, I’m holding you responsible.”
“Deal,” Mina said with a laugh. She shifted in the water, turning to face Rosie more fully. “By the way, can we talk about you and Katsuki for a sec?”
Rosie blinked, lowering her glass. “Me and Katsuki? What about us?”
“Oh, nothing.” Mina gave her an innocent smile that didn’t quite reach her mischievous eyes. “I was just wondering how close you two have gotten. I mean, you’re friends, right?”
Rosie nodded. “Obviously. We study together sometimes and hang out at each other’s places. He’s helped me with chemistry a couple of times, too.”
“Mm-hmm.” Mina hummed, sipping her wine, her eyes never leaving Rosie’s face. “Would you say he’s your best friend?”
“Of course,” Rosie said easily, oblivious to Mina’s subtle grin. “I’ve never had a male friend before coming to Japan. It’s nice. He’s...different from what I expected, but in a good way.”
At that, Mina squealed, her voice high-pitched enough to make Rosie jump slightly. “You’re adorable! Oh my gosh, Rosie, you have no idea, do you?”
Rosie frowned, tilting her head in confusion. “No idea about what? Mina, what are you talking about?”
“Never mind,” Mina said quickly, waving her hand but grinning wider. “You just—ugh, you’re so cute. Don’t ever change, okay?”
Rosie narrowed her eyes but couldn’t help smiling as Mina dissolved into laughter. Whatever Mina was getting at, it was probably nothing. At least, that’s what she told herself.
Later that night, Rosie settled into her room, the spa’s luxurious ambiance lingering in the faint scent of lavender on her skin. She slipped into her favorite oversized sweater and pajama shorts, her damp hair falling in loose waves over her shoulders. Grabbing her phone, she climbed onto the plush bed and opened her contacts.
Her thumb hovered over the screen for a moment before she tapped on Favorites and selected Mr. Grumpy. The nickname always brought a small smile to her face. The line rang only twice before the screen lit up with Katsuki’s face—well, part of it.
“Yeah?” His gruff voice came through first, followed by his face as he adjusted the camera. The backdrop of his room was dim, but the soft glow of a lamp illuminated him clearly. Rosie’s breath hitched slightly. He was shirtless, his hair still damp, likely from a recent shower, and his skin glistened faintly.
He has tattoos?
“Rosie?” Katsuki raised an eyebrow, his voice snapping her out of her momentary daze.
“Uh, hey,” she managed, her voice a little higher than usual. She cleared her throat quickly, trying to focus on his face rather than the way his muscles flexed as he shifted the phone in his hand. “Just wanted to check in. How’s Maya? How are you?”
Katsuki scoffed, but his expression softened. “Maya’s fine. Snoring on the couch like a damn old lady. I’m fine too. Why?”
Rosie shrugged, pretending to be casual. “Just…wanted to make sure the two of you were getting along.”
Katsuki tilted his head slightly, his red eyes narrowing in that familiar way he always did when he suspected she wasn’t telling him everything. “You good?”
“Me? Yeah, totally.” She forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as awkward as it felt. “Just relaxing after a long day at the spa. You know, girly stuff.”
He grunted in response, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Sounds boring.”
“You wouldn’t last five minutes,” she shot back, laughing. “Aloe Vera facials aren’t exactly your thing.”
Katsuki smirked, leaning back against the headboard, and for a split second, she forgot what they were talking about. The dim lighting made the lines of his jaw and the cut of his cheekbones look sharper, and she found herself staring before quickly glancing away.
As they continued to chat, Rosie discreetly adjusted her phone’s angle, pretending to fix her hair as she hit the screenshot button. The soft sound went unnoticed by Katsuki, who was mid-rant about something Maya had done earlier that annoyed him.
The conversation eventually came to a natural pause, Katsuki glancing at something off-screen before returning his gaze to her. “Go to sleep, dumbass. You’ve got another spa day tomorrow, right?”
Rosie smiled. “Yeah, yeah. I will. Goodnight, Mr. Grumpy.”
“Night, Rosie,” he said, ending the call.
Rosie stared at her phone for a moment, her heart thumping a little too loudly in her chest. Opening her photos app, she looked at the screenshot she’d taken. His relaxed expression, the glow of the lamp on his skin, and the way his hair fell messily across his forehead—it all made her stomach flip in a way she wasn’t ready to admit.
“Is it normal to find your best friend attractive?” she whispered to herself, biting her lip. Her cheeks burned, and she quickly locked her phone, shoving it under her pillow as if that would erase the thought from her mind.
All week, Rosie had found herself spending more time with Katsuki, even if she tried to convince herself it was purely coincidental. She knew that him studying with Kirishima and Kaminari at her work wasn’t because of her—it was a popular spot for students to gather and work. But that didn’t stop her from secretly enjoying his presence.
Of course, Kanako’s teasing didn’t help her flustered state. Every time Katsuki asked for a refill, Kanako would wiggle her eyebrows or whisper a sly comment, making Rosie a blushing, smiling mess as she poured his coffee.
It’s just my shyness, Rosie had rationalized, trying to calm her racing heart.
But it wasn’t just the studying. All week, Katsuki had made a point of driving her home when she worked late. When she’d tried to protest the first time, he’d brushed her off with a simple, “It’s dark. I’m not letting you walk home alone.”
She’d chalked it up to his genuine compassion rather than anything deeper. That’s what friends did, right?
And then there was the other thing—or rather, things. Over time, they’d both left stuff at each other’s places. Jackets, chargers, toothbrushes, even a change of clothes. It had started out as convenience, but now it felt… normal.
That’s what best friends do, Rosie told herself firmly, though a tiny voice in the back of her mind wondered if it was really that simple.
Katsuki didn’t seem to mind, nor did she, so it must be okay. Deciding not to dwell on it further, she hadn’t given it much thought again—until now.
“Katsuki?” Rosie asked, glancing at him over the rim of her pink wine glass.
She was curled up in the corner of her couch, wrapped in the soft fluffy pink blanket she’d impulsively grabbed during their grocery trip earlier that week. Katsuki was sitting on the other end of the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, his attention half on his phone and half on the show playing in the background.
“Yeah?” he replied, not looking up.
“You’re not working Saturday morning, right?”
“I’ve got a shift in the afternoon. I’m off at seven. Why?” He finally looked at her, arching an eyebrow.
“I was wondering if you wanted to go bowling,” Rosie said casually, though her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her blanket. “But if you’re too tired or don’t feel like it, that’s okay.”
Katsuki snorted, setting his phone down. “Bowling? You sure you wanna lose to me?”
Rosie sat up straighter, her eyes narrowing. “Wanna bet?”
His smirk grew, the competitive glint in his eyes lighting up. “What’re the stakes?”
She tilted her head, pretending to think. “If you win, I’ll bring you coffee for a whole week.”
“Deal,” he said immediately, leaning back like he’d already won. “And if you win?”
“You take more photos with me,” Rosie said with a giggle, watching as his smirk faltered slightly and he rolled his eyes.
“Ugh, seriously? You and your damn photos.”
She grinned, poking his knee with her foot. “Don’t act like you hate them. You’re always looking at them whenever I send them to you.”
“I’m making sure they don’t make me look like an idiot,” he shot back, his smirk returning.
“Oh, please,” Rosie said, laughing. “You always look good, and you know it.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes again but didn’t argue. “Fine. But don’t start crying when I crush you at bowling.”
“Big words for someone who probably can’t even hit a strike,” she teased, sticking her tongue out at him.
“Keep talking, shortie,” he muttered, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.
Rosie giggled again, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself. “Saturday, then. Prepare to lose.”
Katsuki leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he smirked at her. “You’re gonna regret this, Rosie.”
Her cheeks flushed faintly under his intense gaze, but she refused to back down, meeting his challenge with a playful grin. “We’ll see.”
The rest of the evening passed in easy banter, the kind that came effortlessly to them. Rosie didn’t know what it was about Katsuki that made her feel so comfortable, but she wasn’t complaining. Even if she had to suffer through Kanako’s teasing all over again on Monday, it was worth it.
The mall was alive with the buzz of shoppers and the steady hum of pop music playing over the speakers. Rosie, Mina, and Jirou navigated the crowded space, Mina leading the charge with her usual boundless energy while Jirou followed at a more relaxed pace, her hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket. Rosie, sandwiched between the two, tried to keep up as Mina darted from one store to another, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
“We are going to make you look so hot tonight!” Mina declared, practically bouncing as they entered a boutique that looked like it specialized in trendy party attire. “This party is your debut moment, Rosie. Trust me!”
Rosie’s eyes widened as Mina immediately began rifling through the racks, pulling out dresses, skirts, and tops in a whirlwind of motion. “Debut moment? I think you’re exaggerating,” Rosie protested, though her cheeks turned pink.
“I’m not exaggerating,” Mina shot back, holding up a sequined halter dress for inspection before tossing it over her arm. “Tetsutetsu’s parties are legendary. The whole class is going to be there. Plus, half the people we went to high school with are coming too. It’s going to be epic.”
Jirou smirked from her spot by the dressing room. “Yeah, and you can bet the guys are gonna show up dressed like they just rolled out of bed while we’re over here pulling out all the stops.”
Rosie laughed nervously, eyeing the growing pile of clothes Mina was amassing. “Are you sure this isn’t too much? I don’t want to stand out too much…”
“That’s the point!” Mina exclaimed, dragging her toward the dressing room. “Come on, try these on. You’re going to look amazing!”
Before Rosie could protest further, she was shoved into a stall, Mina piling the clothes onto the bench inside. Jirou followed, slumping into a chair just outside the curtain with a casual shrug.
“This is your chance to let loose, Rosie,” Jirou said, leaning back and crossing her legs. “It’s not like you have to impress anyone, but it’s fun to dress up every now and then.”
Rosie sighed, picking up a little black dress with spaghetti straps. “Okay, but I’m warning you, I don’t usually wear stuff like this.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Mina chimed in from outside the curtain. “Now, stop stalling and try it on!”
With a resigned sigh, Rosie slipped into the dress, smoothing it down nervously before stepping out. Mina’s eyes lit up immediately.
“Oh. My. God. You look amazing!” she squealed, spinning Rosie around to face the mirror.
Rosie blinked at her reflection, feeling a little out of her element but also… kind of good. The dress hugged her figure in all the right places, and the neckline wasn’t as daring as she’d feared.
“What do you think, Jirou?” Mina prompted, grinning.
Jirou gave an approving nod. “Not bad. It’s definitely a look.”
Rosie fidgeted with the hem, her cheeks turning pink again. “You really think so?”
“Absolutely!” Mina said firmly. “But we’re not done yet. Stay there!”
Before Rosie could say anything, Mina was off like a shot, darting back to the racks for more options. Jirou chuckled, leaning her chin on her hand.
“She’s really in her element, huh?” Rosie said with a small laugh, stepping back into the dressing room.
“She lives for this stuff,” Jirou replied, smirking. “But seriously, you should give it a chance. The party’s gonna be fun, and it’s a good excuse to dress up.”
Rosie changed into another outfit—a pair of high-waisted leather shorts paired with a glittery crop top—and stepped out again just as Mina returned with another armful of clothes.
“Oh, this one’s perfect!” Mina declared, clapping her hands. “You have to wear that tonight!”
Rosie gave her a skeptical look. “You haven’t even seen the others yet.”
“Doesn’t matter. This one’s it,” Mina said confidently.
Jirou laughed, shaking her head. “She’s not wrong, though. That one’s pretty killer.”
As the afternoon went on, Rosie tried on outfit after outfit, Mina offering enthusiastic commentary while Jirou provided more laid-back but equally supportive feedback. They talked about the party, the people who would be there, and all the chaos that was sure to ensue.
By the time they left the store, Rosie had two shopping bags in hand filled with the clothes that Mina and Jirou insisted on her getting for future college parties she would be attending and a mix of nervousness and excitement bubbling in her chest.
“Alright, next stop—Rosie’s place to get ready!” Mina declared, slinging an arm around Rosie’s shoulders.
“Don’t you have work?” Rosie asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Eh, I can call in,” Mina said with a dismissive wave. “This is way more important. Right, Jirou?”
“Definitely,” Jirou agreed, smirking.
Rosie laughed, shaking her head. “You two are bad influences.”
“Maybe, but you love us for it,” Mina said with a wink.
As they headed out of the mall, Rosie couldn’t help but smile. Especially since she was super excited to go to her first college party.
“I’m starving,” Jirou stated. “We’re eating before the party right?”
“Definitely,” Mina smiled. “We can order pizza.”
“I can order some,” Rosie pulled out her phone.
Rosie’s apartment was alive with energy, the upbeat rhythm of pop music echoing through the space. Mina and Rosie danced around the living room in oversized robes, their hair wrapped in towels like makeshift crowns, glasses of wine in hand. Maya, the little cotton ball, excitedly hopped on her hind legs, spinning in circles as if trying to join in the fun.
“This is what pre-party rituals should always be like!” Mina declared, twirling dramatically and almost spilling her wine.
Rosie laughed, swaying her hips and spinning in time with the music. “I’m starting to think you’d make an amazing party coach.”
Mina winked, raising her glass. “Cheers to that!”
They clinked glasses, and Maya barked as if in agreement. When the song changed to a faster beat, Mina grabbed Rosie’s hand and pulled her into a goofy dance-off, their laughter filling the room.
The music quieted briefly when the bathroom door creaked open, and Jirou emerged, drying her hair with a towel. She gave them a half-smile, shaking her head. “You two look ridiculous.”
“You’re just jealous you weren’t part of the dance-off,” Mina shot back, sticking out her tongue.
Jirou snorted, heading toward Rosie’s bedroom to grab the hair dryer. “Sure, let’s go with that.”
Just as Rosie caught her breath from laughing, the doorbell rang. She handed her glass to Mina, who took it with a curious look. “Who’s that?”
“The pizza,” Rosie said, heading to the door.
When she opened it, she was greeted by Katsuki, in his work uniform, standing there with the pizza boxes in hand and an amused smirk on his face. His crimson eyes flicked over her robe and towel-covered head before he raised an eyebrow.
“Pre-party?”
“Something like that,” Rosie giggled, folding her arms as she leaned against the doorframe. “I didn’t know you worked today.”
“I wasn’t supposed to,” he grumbled. “But some guy called in sick, so I got roped into covering his shift. I get off in two hours.”
Rosie’s smile brightened. “You’re still coming to the party, though, right?”
Katsuki shrugged, his lips twitching in that signature half-smirk of his. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t do something stupid.”
Her face flushed, and she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. It’s just a party, not a war zone.”
“Yeah, well, same difference,” he teased, his gaze softening slightly.
Rosie reached for the pizza boxes, handing him cash to pay for them. “I’ll save you a slice for when you come over after.”
“You better,” he said, handing over the boxes.
She grinned. “Thanks, Katsuki. Now go finish your shift and stop worrying about me.”
He snorted, stepping back from the door. “Like that’s possible,” he muttered before turning to leave.
Rosie stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him go, her cheeks still warm from their banter. When she closed the door, Mina was walking out of Rosie’s bedroom, her hair freshly blow-dried and bouncing around her shoulders.
“Was that who I think it was?” Mina asked, her grin widening.
“Just Katsuki dropping off the pizza,” Rosie said casually, though the flush on her face gave her away.
Mina smirked knowingly, grabbing a slice of pizza from the box. “You guys are so cute it’s almost disgusting.”
Rosie groaned, burying her face in her hands. “It’s not like that!”
“Uh-huh,” Mina teased, plopping onto the couch. “Sure, it’s not. Now hurry up and eat so we can get ready to be the hottest girls at this party!”
Rosie laughed, joining Mina on the couch as Jirou reappeared, rolling her eyes at Mina’s enthusiasm.
Mr. Grumpy: I can still hear the music from the elevator
Rosie: Jirou picked it out
Mr. Grumpy: You’re going to be tired by the time of the party
Rosie: Not true…maybe
Mr. Grumpy: I’m calling it now that you’ll be tired by midnight
Rosie: What then?
Mr. Grumpy: I’ll take you home dumbass
Rosie: You just want an excuse to leave the party
Mr. Grumpy: I have never needed an excuse to leave a party
Rosie: Yeah right
Rosie: Have to get ready, see you later<3
Mr. Grumpy: See ya
Notes:
hope you enjoyed this chapter! please drop a kudos or a comment!
Chapter 17: Did she know what she was wearing?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki sat on Rosie’s couch, leisurely eating the slice of pizza she’d saved for him. Maya was perched on the opposite side of the couch, her eyes locked onto him with laser focus, tail wagging in anticipation.
With a smirk, Katsuki plucked a pepperoni from his slice and flicked it toward her. Maya caught it midair, chomping it down with an enthusiasm that almost made him laugh.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “Don’t get used to it.”
Not that he could really blame her. He might’ve indulged her more than he should when dog-sitting last weekend.
The door creaked open, and Kirishima strolled in without knocking. Rosie had left it unlocked for him and Kaminari, knowing they’d show up as she and the girls finished getting ready.
“Yo, man,” Kirishima greeted, grinning as he spotted Katsuki. “Where’s Kaminari?”
Katsuki leaned back on the couch, tossing the crust of his pizza onto a napkin. “Said he’ll meet us there. He’s with Shoji, Tokoyami, Sero, and Mineta.”
Kirishima nodded and made a beeline for the kitchen, catching sight of the pizza box. “Is that fresh?”
“Help yourself,” Katsuki said flatly, gesturing toward the box without looking up.
He glanced at the clock on Rosie’s wall. Almost eight. If they wanted to make it to Tetsutetsu’s party on time, they’d need to leave in the next ten minutes. His mind wandered briefly to the fact that Rosie hadn’t made an appearance yet. What the hell were they doing back there?
The sound of heels clicking against the hardwood pulled his attention back. Mina walked out of the hallway, looking like a literal ray of sunshine in a yellow leather dress that hugged her curves perfectly, paired with matching heels that showed off her long legs.
“Baby!” she called, her voice full of excitement as she spotted Kirishima devouring his slice of pizza. “I thought I heard you.”
Kirishima looked up, his eyes lighting up as he took her in. “I just got here,” he said through a mouthful of food, swallowing quickly. “You look amazing, babe.”
Mina giggled, twirling in place. “You like?”
“Love it,” he said with a grin, pizza forgotten.
Katsuki snorted, shaking his head as he crossed his arms. “Damn, you’re whipped,” he muttered.
Kirishima shot him a sheepish grin, but Katsuki wasn’t really paying attention anymore. He glanced toward the hallway just as Jirou appeared, her style more understated but no less striking. She wore sleek black leather shorts paired with an off-the-shoulder purple top, her trusty high-tops completing the look. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, giving her an effortlessly cool vibe.
“You look awesome, Jirou,” Mina chirped, throwing an arm around her.
Jirou smirked. “Thanks. Figured I’d go for ‘casual but badass.’”
Katsuki was about to retort when the sound of another door opening made him glance back.
And then, Rosie stepped out.
His slice of pizza froze halfway to his mouth as he took in the sight of her. She was wearing a version of his hero uniform—a sleek black crop top with an orange ‘x’ over it baring her navel, paired with high-waisted black leather pants. A green belt with orange cinched her pants, and knee-high boots completed the look.
Did she know what she was wearing?
He choked, the piece of pizza lodged in his throat as his eyes widened.
“Shit—” he coughed, grabbing his drink and gulping it down as the girls turned to him, startled.
“Katsuki?” Rosie’s voice was full of concern as she stepped closer. “Are you okay?”
He managed to swallow, his voice hoarse. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he muttered, though his ears burned crimson.
Rosie tilted her head, her brows furrowing. “Are you sure? You look kinda—”
“You’re good,” he cut her off, standing abruptly and brushing imaginary crumbs off his pants. “You, uh—you're really wearing that?”
Her face flushed as she glanced down at herself, smoothing the hem of her top nervously. “Yeah, Mina chose it for me. Jirou said it looked amazing. Is it too much? Should I change?”
Mina beamed, clearly proud of her influence. “Isn’t she gorgeous? She’s totally stealing the show tonight.”
Katsuki shoved his hands in his pockets, grumbling, “You look amazing.” He tried not to look at her again, but his eyes betrayed him, sneaking another glance.
Rosie smiled shyly, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “Thanks, Katsuki.”
Mina and Jirou exchanged a knowing look, and Kirishima raised an eyebrow at Katsuki, who pointedly kept staring at her.
“Group photo!” Mina cheered as she set her phone on the bar of her kitchen.
They all huddled together. Mina in front of Kirishima, Jirou on her right with Rosie to the right with Katsuki shoving one hand in his pocket and the other wrapped around her waist.
“We're ready to go, or are you three gonna spend another hour gushing over each other?” Katsuki snapped, already heading for the door.
Mina smirked, grabbing her purse. “Someone’s cranky.”
Rosie laughed softly, following after him. “Don’t be so grumpy, Mr. Grumpy.”
Behind them, Mina whispered to Jirou, “They’re so into each other it’s painful.”
Jirou smirked. “No kidding.”
Katsuki was grateful that Rosie was too busy looking at her phone to hear what they said.
Tetsutetsu’s house loomed at the end of the block, a sprawling, modern mansion that glowed with colorful strobe lights pulsing from within. The bass of the music thudded loud enough to rattle the car windows as Katsuki pulled up to park on the crowded street. The front yard was already teeming with people, red solo cups in hand, shouting and laughing. A few groups stood on the lawn, smoking or chatting while more people lingered near the wide-open front door, where the music seemed to burst out in waves.
Katsuki cut the engine and glanced over at Rosie, catching her in the middle of touching up her lip gloss in the mirror. She puckered her lips once, then turned to him with a radiant smile.
“Ready?” she asked, practically vibrating with excitement.
Katsuki grunted, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets as Mina, Jirou, and Kirishima spilled out of the backseat, Mina chattering animatedly about the night ahead.
Rosie stepped out, adjusting her outfit as she glanced toward the house. “I’m so excited!” she said, her voice almost a squeal.
“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki muttered, trailing behind her as the group headed toward the house.
As they crossed the lawn, Katsuki took note of the crowd—guys already half-drunk, laughing too loud, and girls in party outfits posing for pictures. It was chaos, but nothing he wasn’t used to.
Inside, the scene was even wilder. The smell of alcohol and sweat hung heavy in the air, mingling with the occasional scent of pizza or chips.
Strobe lights flickered across the walls, casting the packed living room in neon blues and greens. People were dancing, shouting over the music, or cramming onto the couches, laughing at something playing on the TV.
“Let’s head to the kitchen!” Mina shouted over the noise, grabbing Jirou’s hand.
Rosie followed closely behind Mina, but Katsuki stayed right at her side, his sharp eyes scanning the room like he was on patrol. When they reached the kitchen, it was packed with people mixing drinks, rummaging through the fridge, or leaning against the counters, chatting.
Katsuki nudged Rosie toward the counter. “What do you want?”
“Oh, um…” She glanced at the array of liquor bottles on display. “Maybe something fruity?”
He rolled his eyes but grabbed a few bottles, expertly mixing something together in a cup before handing it to her. Rosie took it with a shy smile, her fingers brushing against his.
“Thanks, Katsuki,” she said, her voice soft but sincere.
“Tch, don’t mention it,” he muttered, looking away.
She took a sip, her face lighting up. “This is good!”
“Of course it is.”
Before either of them could say more, Rosie suddenly gasped, setting her drink down and grabbing his arm.
“What now?” he grumbled as she pulled him toward the backyard.
“Come on!” she urged, weaving through the throng of people until they emerged into the backyard.
The backyard was just as chaotic as the inside, with clusters of people gathered around several beer pong tables. At one table, Shoji, Tokoyami, and Kaminari were locked in a heated match against Tetsutetsu, Kendo, and Monoma. Rosie’s eyes lit up as she spotted them.
“Beer pong! Let’s go!” she said excitedly, tugging Katsuki toward the table.
The players glanced up as they approached, Kaminari waving them over.
“Hey, Rosie, Bakugo!” he called.
“Hi, everyone!” Rosie greeted, her voice friendly as she waved. She looked at the opposing team. “Mind if I join in?”
Monoma gave her a once-over, his lips curling into a condescending smirk. “You don’t look like the type to play,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. “You should probably walk away now before you embarrass yourself.”
Rosie straightened, lifting her chin defiantly. “Oh, I’m playing,” she said firmly. “And I’ll play against you.”
The table erupted into cheers and taunts as everyone stepped back to let them set up. Katsuki crossed his arms, leaning against the fence with an amused smirk.
“Alright, princess,” Monoma said, setting the cups up with exaggerated flair. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Rosie picked up the ball, rolling it between her fingers with a determined glint in her eye. She lined up her shot, focused, and released.
The ball sailed through the air and landed perfectly in one of Monoma’s cups.
The crowd roared.
“What?” Monoma sputtered, already off-balance.
Rosie smiled sweetly. “Beginner’s luck, right?”
The game continued, and it quickly became clear that Rosie wasn’t just holding her own—she was dominating. Every shot she took was calculated and precise, while Monoma grew more flustered with each miss. By the time she landed her final shot, Monoma was down to his last cup, and the crowd was chanting her name.
“Boom!” Rosie cheered, throwing her arms in the air as the ball dropped into the last cup.
Katsuki couldn’t help but smirk as Monoma stood there, speechless and humiliated. Rosie turned to Katsuki, her cheeks flushed with excitement, and he gave her a rare, approving nod.
“Proud of you,” he said, his voice low but full of pride.
“Thanks,” she said, beaming as she grabbed her drink from the table.
Behind them, Monoma sulked, and Kaminari clapped him on the back. “Told you not to underestimate her,” Kaminari teased.
“Who is she anyway?”
“That’s Rosie,” Shoji said with a smile. “She’s Aizawa’s daughter.”
The pounding bass reverberated through the walls as Katsuki sipped his drink, standing by the kitchen counter with Kirishima and Shoto. The three of them had been talking, their voices raised to compete with the music, but Katsuki’s attention had started to drift as they made their way into the sprawling living room.
The massive space had been cleared to create a dance floor, and the neon strobe lights bathed everything in a kaleidoscope of colors. The crowd was thick, but Katsuki’s eyes locked immediately onto a familiar figure in the middle of the chaos.
Rosie.
She was dancing with Mina, their movements fluid and confident, drawing the attention of several onlookers. Mina grinned as she threw her arms up, hyping up the crowd, but Katsuki’s focus stayed entirely on Rosie. The way she moved was magnetic—her body swaying perfectly in time with the beat, her hands trailing along her sides, up her arms, and back down again as if she were lost in the music.
Her leather pants hugged her figure perfectly, reflecting the neon lights that danced across the room. She wore a cropped version of his hero uniform, the sharp lines and bold colors transformed into something both playful and undeniably sexy. The top hugged her curves, leaving just enough to the imagination, while the high-waisted pants emphasized her every movement.
Katsuki swallowed hard, the drink in his hand forgotten as he stared at her. His eyes followed the hypnotizing sway of her hips and the way her hair bounced with every spin. She was touching her neck now, then letting her hands run down her sides again, her face alight with joy as she moved to the beat. She was stunning, almost unreal in the flashing lights, and for a moment, he forgot where he was.
“Is she wearing a version of your uniform?” Shoto’s calm voice broke through his daze, drawing his attention for a split second.
Katsuki tore his gaze away long enough to glance at him. Shoto was watching Rosie too, his expression unreadable as his heterochromatic eyes flicked between her and Katsuki.
“Mina’s idea,” Kirishima answered before Katsuki could. He smirked, leaning against the doorway as he observed the scene. “She doesn’t even know what she’s doing, does she?”
Katsuki’s jaw tightened as his gaze snapped back to Rosie, his grip on his cup growing white-knuckled. She didn’t know. She had no clue how her movements were affecting him or anyone else watching her. And there were others watching, that much was clear.
“She doesn’t even know what she’s wearing,” Kirishima added with a knowing grin.
Katsuki’s voice was low, tight, as his eyes traced the lines of her body. “She doesn’t need to know.”
Rosie spun around again, her head tilting back as she laughed at something Mina said, her expression pure and radiant. Katsuki couldn’t look away. He didn’t want to. Every inch of her demanded his attention, from the curve of her waist to the way her lips glistened under the neon lights.
“You gonna stand here all night, or are you gonna do something about it?” Kirishima teased, nudging him lightly with his elbow.
Katsuki ignored him, his eyes glued to Rosie as she threw her hands into the air and swayed her hips to the rhythm of the song. Her confidence, her energy, her everything—it was intoxicating.
“Shut up,” he muttered, finishing his drink in one swig and setting the cup down with a sharp clink.
Shoto arched a brow but said nothing, though his slight smirk didn’t go unnoticed.
Katsuki didn’t care. All he could think about was how Rosie looked like she was made for the dance floor, commanding attention without even trying. She didn’t need a hero costume to look like a star.
And damn it, she is his star—even if she didn’t know it yet.
The backyard was alive with laughter and shouts as Katsuki and the rest of the guys from his class surrounded a makeshift shot roulette setup. The table was covered with an assortment of brightly colored shot glasses, each filled with varying levels of alcohol. A spinning arrow sat in the center, pointing to whoever had to take the next drink.
Katsuki leaned back against a post, his sharp eyes scanning the board as the arrow spun. The guys were already starting to get competitive, especially Kirishima and Sero, who were trying to outdo each other with every spin. Kaminari, on the other hand, had already taken one too many shots and was swaying slightly as he cheered on the others.
"Come on, man, you can't miss this one!" Kirishima clapped Katsuki on the back as the arrow slowed, ticking ominously before landing squarely on him.
“Tch, easy.” Katsuki grabbed a shot, downing it in one fluid motion before slamming the glass back onto the table. The guys cheered, their energy infectious, but Katsuki’s mind was already wandering.
As the game continued, the competitiveness ramped up. Tetsutetsu and Sato were trying to outdrink each other, their bravado drawing more laughter from the group. Katsuki stayed sharp, winning round after round with his unrelenting focus. When the arrow finally landed on him for the final shot, he raised the glass with a smug smirk, downed it, and slammed it down with enough force to make the table rattle.
“Winner,” he declared, ignoring the grumbles from the others as they groaned about his luck—or skill.
Katsuki didn’t stick around for the aftermath. His victory didn’t matter; what mattered was getting back to Rosie. He was eager to find her again, the memory of her dancing on the living room floor still fresh in his mind.
He made his way inside, weaving through the crowded house. The music seemed louder, the energy more electric as people danced, laughed, and shouted over the noise. When he reached the game room, however, he froze.
There she was.
Rosie was standing on a table in the center of the room, her arms raised as she swayed to the heavy beat of the music. Mina was beside her, just as energetic, the two of them feeding off each other’s energy as the crowd around them cheered. Rosie’s cheeks were flushed, her hair falling in loose waves around her face as she moved.
But it wasn’t the dancing that set his blood boiling.
It was the way Shinso stood in the corner, his eyes locked on Rosie, his expression unreadable but intent. Katsuki’s jaw tightened as his chest burned with irritation.
Without thinking, he shoved past the guys standing nearby, ignoring their laughter and cheers as he stalked toward the table. The closer he got, the angrier he felt, the protective instinct roaring to life inside him.
“Rosie,” he barked, his voice cutting through the noise.
Katsuki stood at the edge of the table, staring up at Rosie as she swayed to the beat of the music, her movements slightly unsteady. Her smile was radiant, her cheeks flushed—though he wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or the energy of the party.
“Katsuki! What’s up?” she called down, her voice bubbly and full of excitement but slightly slurred.
He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms. “How drunk are you?”
Rosie giggled, a sound that made something in his chest tighten. She wobbled slightly, catching her balance on Mina’s arm. “Not drunk,” she declared, but the hiccup that followed gave her away.
He sighed, running a hand down his face. “Yeah, sure, and I’m the Number One Hero”
Rosie just grinned, swaying to the music again as if she hadn’t heard him. Katsuki debated for a moment, his jaw tightening as he weighed his options. He could leave her to dance her heart out on the table and risk her falling, or he could pull her down and deal with her drunken protests.
Groaning, he made his decision. He crooked a finger toward her, signaling her to come down. “Pretty girl,” he called, his voice softer than usual but still firm.
Rosie froze, her face flushing as she crouched down to his level, her wide eyes locking onto his. “What?” she asked, her tone suddenly shy.
He smirked, leaning in just enough so only she could hear. “I promised to dance with you, didn’t I? Can’t do that if you’re up there playing queen of the party.”
Her face brightened instantly, her blush deepening as a shy smile tugged at her lips. “You did promise,” she murmured, almost to herself.
“Then come on, pretty girl.” He held out his hand, steady and waiting.
Rosie hesitated for only a moment before taking it, letting him guide her down from the table. Her steps were wobbly, but Katsuki kept a firm grip on her, steadying her as they made their way back into the living room where the music was even louder and the neon lights pulsed in time with the beat.
Once they were in the middle of the dance floor, Rosie looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with excitement and something softer, something that made his chest feel tight again. “You’re really gonna dance with me?”
“Yeah, so don’t make me regret it,” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward in the faintest of smiles.
The music shifted to something with a slower, heavier beat, and Katsuki pulled her close, his hands settling lightly on her waist. Rosie giggled, her hands resting on his shoulders as they swayed together.
“You’re better at this than I thought you’d be,” she teased, her voice warm and teasing.
“Tch, like I’d be bad at anything,” he shot back, spinning her suddenly.
She squealed, laughing as he twirled her around before pulling her back to him. Her hair fanned out as she moved, catching the neon light, and
Katsuki couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“Show-off,” she teased, but her smile was brighter than ever.
“Better than falling off the table,” he quipped, his voice lower, more serious.
Rosie tilted her head at him, her expression softening. “You’re sweet, Katsuki.”
“Don’t start,” he warned, but his voice lacked any real bite.
The song picked up again, and he surprised her by dipping her low, one arm bracing her back as she gasped and clung to him.
“Katsuki!” she laughed, her voice light and full of joy.
He smirked, holding her there for a moment before pulling her upright again. “What? Can’t handle a little fun?”
Rosie shook her head, still giggling. “You’re full of surprises tonight.”
He didn’t reply, just kept dancing with her, his grip firm and protective.
The cool night air was a welcome change from the heat and noise inside the house. Rosie stood near a circle of her friends, chatting and laughing as Mina and Jirou recounted stories from high school. Her drink was still in hand, though she sipped it slower now, the buzz from earlier finally beginning to fade. The soft hum of music spilled out from the open windows, mixing with the occasional roar of laughter and chatter from the crowd scattered across the backyard.
Nearby, Kirishima and Tetsutetsu sat at a table, their arms locked in an intense arm-wrestling match. A crowd of onlookers cheered them on, including Kaminari, Shoji, and Tokoyami, all of whom were placing lighthearted bets on who would win.
Katsuki leaned against the railing of the deck, his sharp eyes flicking between Rosie and the arm-wrestling match. He wasn’t one to hover, but he kept her in his periphery, watching her laugh and talk with her friends. He couldn’t help the slight smirk tugging at his lips when she threw her head back laughing at one of Mina’s jokes.
“She’s doing alright,” Kirishima said from the table, grinning as he caught Katsuki’s line of sight.
“Yeah, yeah, focus on not losing,” Katsuki shot back, though his tone lacked any real edge.
Tetsutetsu barked a laugh, his knuckles white as he pressed harder against Kirishima’s grip. “Like you’ve got any room to talk, Bakugou! Why aren’t you in on this?”
“Because I’d wipe the floor with both of you idiots,” Katsuki replied smoothly, his eyes narrowing.
Before the banter could escalate, a commotion broke out on the far side of the yard. Raised voices drew everyone’s attention as two guys from another group started shoving each other. One of them, clearly drunk, stumbled into a table, sending cups flying.
“Ah, crap,” Kaminari muttered, already standing up.
The situation escalated fast. One of the guys took a swing, hitting the other square in the jaw. People scattered as more punches were thrown, and in the chaos, Izuku tried to step in, hands raised in a calming gesture.
“Wait, wait! Let’s not—”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence before someone accidentally clocked him in the face.
Katsuki’s expression darkened in an instant. “That’s it.”
He pushed off the railing, striding toward the fight. Kirishima and Tetsutetsu were hot on his heels, their arm-wrestling match forgotten. Kaminari followed, muttering something about how things were “getting real now.”
Rosie, who had been mid-conversation, turned just in time to see Katsuki storm into the fray. “Oh no,” she breathed, her heart sinking.
“What happened?” Mina asked, grabbing Rosie’s arm as they watched from a safe distance.
“Looks like Izuku got hit,” Jirou said grimly, already pulling out her phone in case things got out of hand.
The backyard became a blur of shouting and movement. Katsuki, Kirishima, and the others stepped in, quickly separating the instigators. Katsuki grabbed the guy who had hit Izuku by the collar, his crimson eyes blazing with fury.
“You wanna hit someone? Try me!” he growled, his voice cutting through the noise like a blade.
The guy stammered, clearly realizing he’d made a mistake. “It—it was an accident, Bakugou! I swear! I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t care.” Katsuki shoved him back toward his friends. “Get out before I make you regret it.”
Meanwhile, Kirishima was helping Izuku to his feet. “You good, bro?”
Izuku winced, rubbing his cheek. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just wasn’t expecting that.”
The tension finally began to settle as the drunk instigator and his group shuffled off, muttering apologies. Katsuki turned back to the group, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on Rosie.
She was already walking toward him, her expression equal parts concerned. “Katsuki,” she started, her voice softer than he expected.
“I’m fine,” he cut her off, crossing his arms. “Deku’s fine too. Just some idiot who didn’t know when to quit.”
Rosie stepped closer. “Are you sure?”
He smirked, his usual bravado returning. “Someone’s gotta keep things in line.”
Her lips twitched into a small smile despite herself. “I’m getting tired,” she smiled. “And I’m starving.”
“My place?” He asked
“Yes,” Rosie smiled.
“I know this place that’s open twenty-four seven.”
“Perfect.” Then she pulled her phone out, “I was supposed to be staying the night with Mina but I think that she might be busy with Kirishima.” She nodded towards the couple who were now making out in one of the lawn chairs.
He would never be caught doing stupid shit like that.
Katsuki unlocked the door to his apartment, the smell of takeout wafting through the air as they stepped inside. Rosie kicked off her shoes near the door, practically floating to the couch with the bag of food. Katsuki followed, rolling his eyes as she plopped down and immediately began pulling out the containers.
“Didn’t even wait for me,” he muttered, setting the drinks on the coffee table and dropping onto the couch beside her.
“I’m starving,” Rosie said, pulling her cheeseburger out and unwrapping it with giddy excitement. She perched on the couch sideways, her legs stretched out and resting on Katsuki’s lap as she took a giant bite of the burger.
Katsuki raised an eyebrow, leaning back as he popped open his own container. “What’d you think of your first college party?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink.
Rosie swallowed quickly, her eyes lighting up. “It was amazing! The music, the dancing, the people—it was so fun. I can’t believe I’ve never been to one before.” She shoved a handful of fries into her mouth, her words slightly muffled.
“Yeah, you really made an impression, dancing on a table and all,” he said dryly, his lips quirking up into a smirk.
Rosie giggled, nudging his side with her foot. “Don’t remind me. I can’t believe I did that.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t let you fall.”
“I would’ve been fine,” she shot back playfully, taking another big bite of her burger.
Katsuki shook his head and tossed a napkin at her, watching as it landed in her lap. “That hungry?”
“Yes,” she replied without hesitation, grabbing the napkin and wiping at her face before continuing to inhale her food.
He snorted, focusing on his own meal while she finished hers with impressive speed. By the time she set her empty container down, she was leaning back against the cushions, her eyes flicking toward the TV where a movie was quietly playing.
“Do you know why they called me Dynamight?”
He stiffened, then cleared his throat. “Mina dressed you up in my hero uniform.”
Rosie flushed, “really?”
“I can show you tomorrow.”
She just nodded, then settled further into the couch.
“This movie’s so good,” she mumbled, her voice already heavy with sleep as she shifted to get comfortable.
Katsuki glanced over a few minutes later to see her head resting against the arm of the couch, her chest rising and falling in steady breaths. He nudged her leg lightly, his voice low but firm. “Oi. Go change before you pass out.”
Rosie groaned, her eyes cracking open as she made a weak attempt to sit up. “But I’m comfy…”
“Don’t care. You’re not sleeping in that,” Katsuki said, gesturing to her outfit from the party.
With a dramatic sigh, she pushed herself up and shuffled toward his bedroom. “You’re bossy,” she muttered, earning a snort from him.
As she disappeared down the hall, Katsuki began cleaning up the remnants of their meal, throwing away wrappers and wiping down the coffee table. By the time Rosie returned in one of his oversized T-shirts and a pair of shorts, her hair tied up loosely, the living room was spotless.
She flopped back onto the couch, curling up under a blanket. Katsuki joined her a moment later, grabbing the remote and lowering the volume.
“You better sleep now. You’ve had enough excitement for one night,” he muttered.
Rosie smiled sleepily, already dozing off again. “Thanks for taking care of me, Katsuki.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied, but his gaze softened as he watched her drift off, her breathing steady and peaceful.
The blaring of Katsuki’s alarm shattered the quiet of the early morning, the obnoxious tone echoing through the living room. He groaned, his hand smacking blindly at the coffee table as he searched for his phone to turn it off. After a few seconds of fumbling, he found it, silencing the noise with a sharp press of his thumb.
As he lay back, his eyes closed, he became aware of a weight pressing against his chest. Rosie stirred on top of him, letting out a low groan.
“Too loud,” she murmured, her voice muffled as she buried her face into the crook of his neck.
Katsuki sighed, running a hand over his face. “Are you planning to just stay here and sleep?”
Rosie nodded lazily, still half-asleep. “Mmhm.”
“What about Maya?”
“Texted Dad last night,” she mumbled. “Told him I was staying with Mina and asked if he could take care of her this morning.”
She snuggled deeper under the pink blanket they’d ended up sharing during the night, pulling it tighter around herself as if to ward off any attempts to move her. Katsuki’s patience thinned as he glanced at the clock.
“I have to get up for work,” he said, his voice firm. “You need to get off me.”
Rosie didn’t budge, her soft breathing a stubborn protest.
“You’ve got five seconds before I push you onto the floor.”
Still no movement.
“One.”
She made a faint grumbling noise, but didn’t move.
“Two.”
Her grip on the blanket tightened.
“Three.”
With a dramatic sigh, Rosie finally slid off him, dragging the blanket with her as she curled up on the couch. “You’re mean,” she muttered, her voice tinged with sleep. “I was comfortable.”
“Go get comfortable in my bed if you’re planning on sleeping more,” Katsuki shot back as he swung his legs over the side of the couch.
Rosie yawned, peeking out from beneath the blanket. “What time is it?”
“Seven.”
She let out a triumphant hum, pulling the blanket back over her head. “Too early,” she declared.
Katsuki rolled his eyes, standing and stretching before heading toward his bedroom to grab his work clothes. “Yeah, well, some of us have jobs.”
“I have a job, I just choose not to get up early.” From under the blanket, Rosie’s sleepy voice called out, “Have fun being a functioning adult.”
“Tch. Don’t trash my place while I’m gone,” Katsuki grumbled as he grabbed his things and headed to the bathroom to get ready. Rosie’s soft laughter followed him, and despite his annoyance, a small smirk tugged at his lips.
When he stepped out, showered and dressed in his uniform. He grabbed his phone and keys to see a cup of hot coffee on the island waiting for him.
Katsuki: Thanks for the coffee brat
Pretty Girl: You’re welcome, drive safe.
Notes:
thank you guys for the support! I hope you continue to read and support this story!
Chapter 18: Honestly, I don't know what I would do without you.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Coming back to his apartment, Katsuki dropped his keys onto the island with a metallic clink, kicking off his boots by the door. He paused mid-step, his eyes narrowing at the unexpected sight before him.
There was Rosie, her damp hair cascading over her shoulders, wrapped snugly in one of his towels as she pranced around the living room. Her bare feet padded softly against the floor as she twirled, her voice carrying a cheerful tune that matched the upbeat music playing faintly from his sound system.
Katsuki swallowed hard, leaning against the doorframe as he crossed his arms. This was definitely not what he’d expected to come home to. His gaze lingered on the way the towel shifted with each spin, threatening to betray her modesty but somehow staying in place. A part of him told himself to look away, but still he continued to keep his eyes firmly on her.
Rosie caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye and turned with a bright smile, her cheeks flushed from the energy of her dancing. “Oh, hey, Katsuki! You’re home!”
He arched an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a wry smirk. “Should I even ask what you’re doing?”
“Dancing! It’s so much fun!” she said, practically beaming at him as she swayed to the beat. “You should try it!”
“Pass,” Katsuki grunted, though his eyes softened as he watched her bounce around the room, her carefree energy filling the space.
Rosie pouted, walking up to him with her towel-clad self. “Come on, you can’t just stand there like some grumpy statue. Live a little!”
“Don’t push it,” he warned, though there was no real heat in his tone.
Undeterred, Rosie grabbed his hand, tugging at him with more strength than he’d expected. “Please? Just one song!”
Katsuki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not doing some stupid moves.”
“No stupid moves,” she promised, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Just this.” She spun his hand in hers, her movements fluid and natural as she pulled him into her rhythm.
To his own surprise, Katsuki found himself following along, albeit stiffly at first. Her laugh was infectious, and as she placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding him to step in time with her, he started to relax.
“You’re doing great!” Rosie cheered, her grin wide.
“Tch. Don’t patronize me,” he muttered, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips.
Before he knew it, she twirled under his arm, laughing brightly as her towel swayed dangerously. His heart jumped at the sight, and he instinctively placed a hand on her waist to steady her.
“Careful, idiot,” he said gruffly, his voice quieter than usual.
Rosie looked up at him, her cheeks still flushed from exertion and her eyes sparkling with happiness. “See? Wasn’t that fun?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki said, his voice betraying a touch of warmth as he let her lead him into another spin. “Now get dressed, if I recall, we’re supposed to go out tonight to go bowling.”
The bowling alley was alive with sound: the thunderous crash of pins being knocked down, laughter echoing from various lanes, and the hum of upbeat music that set the mood. Katsuki and Rosie stepped inside, the smell of greasy food and the sharp clatter of bowling balls against the polished floor hitting them instantly.
Katsuki carried their shoes under one arm while Rosie bounced beside him, clearly excited. “I haven’t been bowling in ages,” she chirped, her eyes scanning the neon-lit interior.
“Don’t embarrass yourself,” Katsuki muttered with a smirk, nudging her shoulder as they reached the counter.
“I’m going to wipe the floor with you, Katsuki,” she teased back, sticking her tongue out at him.
After grabbing their assigned lane number, they walked down the slightly sticky floor to their spot. Katsuki dropped their shoes on the bench and immediately began setting up the scoreboard. “What do you want your name to be?” he asked without looking up.
“Rosie is fine,” she said as she swapped her sneakers for the slippery bowling shoes. “But make it something cute, like ‘Queen Rosie.’”
“Tch. Don’t push your luck.” He typed her name in as “Rosie” and left his as “Katsuki.”
Rosie shot him a look. “Wow, so creative.”
“It’s a bowling alley, not an art class,” he snorted.
She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, hopping to her feet. “I’m gonna grab a ball!” she said cheerfully, skipping over to the racks lining the wall. Katsuki settled into their lane’s bench, pulling his shoes on lazily, his crimson gaze tracking her as she wandered off.
As Rosie stood in front of the rack, scanning the colorful selection of balls, Katsuki’s sharp eyes caught movement to her left. A guy, mid-twenties, with a backwards cap and a smirk that Katsuki immediately didn’t like, leaned casually against a nearby rack. His eyes were locked on Rosie, following the way she bent over to inspect the weights on the balls.
Katsuki’s jaw clenched. He sat up straighter, a dangerous glint flickering in his gaze. The guy didn’t even try to hide it, his gaze dropping as Rosie obliviously leaned closer to check the numbers on the balls. Katsuki was on his feet in a heartbeat, his stride purposeful and deadly.
Didn’t help that she decided to wear tight shorts.
“Oi.”
Rosie turned her head at the sound of his voice, her face lighting up. “Oh, Katsuki! Perfect timing!” she said, completely unaware of the tension in his frame. “Can you reach that pink one for me? It’s too far back up.”
He huffed, stepping in front of her and grabbing the ball with ease. “You mean this one?”
She nodded, beaming. “Thanks! It’s the perfect weight for me.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered, his eyes darting to the guy still loitering a few feet away. Katsuki didn’t bother hiding his glare as he hooked an arm around Rosie’s waist, steering her firmly back toward their lane.
“What’s with the escort service?” Rosie teased as she looked up at him, oblivious to the guy who had immediately turned and left under Katsuki’s withering stare.
“Just making sure you don’t trip over your own feet,” he grumbled, his grip on her tightening slightly before he let go.
Rosie giggled as they reached their lane. “Wow, such a gentleman,” she teased, setting the ball down on the rack by their lane.
Katsuki didn’t respond, but the tension in his shoulders slowly eased as the guy disappeared into the crowd. Sitting back on the bench, he watched Rosie line up her first shot with the pink ball, her excitement palpable.
As she bowled her first frame, missing half the pins but celebrating like she’d won anyway, Katsuki allowed himself a small smirk.
Whatever. He had more important things to focus on—like crushing Rosie at bowling.
Rosie stood at the scoreboard, her hands on her hips as she stared at the final tally. Katsuki’s name gleamed at the top with a score of 198, while her own sat mockingly close at 193. She groaned dramatically, throwing her head back.
“Five points,” she whined, turning to Katsuki, who leaned against the bench with his arms crossed and a smug smirk plastered on his face.
“Almost had me there, Queen Rosie,” he drawled, emphasizing the nickname she had demanded earlier.
“I’ve gotten rusty,” she muttered, pouting as she grabbed her water bottle. “I could’ve beaten you.”
“Yeah? Could’ve, would’ve, didn’t,” he said, snorting when she shot him a glare.
“You’re impossible,” she huffed, but a small smile tugged at her lips.
“You know my order by now,” Katsuki said with a cocky tilt of his head.
Rosie rolled her eyes, playfully tossing her towel at him. “Fine. But you’re buying me ice cream.”
“You haven’t had dinner yet,” he pointed out, grabbing their shoes to return them to the counter.
“Ice cream is dinner,” she declared, following him.
Katsuki snorted, shaking his head as they handed back their bowling shoes. “Let’s just go get real food first. Then you can have your dessert-for-dinner fantasy.”
Rosie grumbled, but the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her amusement as they headed out to the parking lot.
Stopping by a small takeout spot, they grabbed their food—Katsuki opting for a loaded burger and fries while Rosie picked a chicken wrap and a side of fries. True to her word, she also got her ice cream: a giant cup of strawberry ice cream with white chocolate pieces.
“Seriously?” Katsuki asked as they got back into his car, glancing at the towering dessert she balanced on her lap.
“What?” she said defensively, spooning a bite. “It’s perfect.”
He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, starting the car and heading to her place.
As soon as they walked through Rosie’s front door, Maya bolted toward them, her tail wagging furiously as she ran in excited circles around their legs.
“Hey, baby girl!” Rosie cooed, crouching to greet her dog, who immediately showered her with excited kisses.
Katsuki set the takeout bags on the counter and leaned down to ruffle Maya’s fur. “Miss me cotton swab?” he asked gruffly, earning a happy bark from the dog.
“See? She loves you,” Rosie teased, standing up with her ice cream in hand.
“She’s just hoping I’ll drop food,” Katsuki shot back, though the corners of his mouth twitched into a small smile.
Rosie laughed as she kicked off her shoes and grabbed her takeout bag. “C’mon, Maya. Let’s eat.”
Maya barked happily, following them into the living room, her tail wagging in eager excitement as they settled onto the couch with their food.
Rosie plopped down, balancing her takeout box on her lap. “Ugh, I have to work all day tomorrow,” she groaned dramatically. “What about you? What’s on your boring agenda?”
“Work and the gym,” Katsuki replied, popping a fry into his mouth.
“Boring!” Rosie teased, booing him as she reached over to steal one of his fries.
“Oi, get your own,” he muttered, swatting at her hand halfheartedly.
“I did,” she said smugly, munching on the fry she’d swiped. “What shift do you have?”
“Seven to four,” he answered, leaning back into the couch. “Then I’m hitting the gym with Kirishima from five to seven.”
Rosie tilted her head thoughtfully. “So, I’ll see you Monday morning, then?”
“Yeah,” he said, glancing at her as she stretched her legs out and placed them casually across his lap. He didn’t push them off, instead idly brushing crumbs from her sock. “What about you? What’re your hours?”
“Seven to six,” she sighed, sinking deeper into the couch.
“Sounds like your own kind of boring,” he smirked, earning a playful glare from her as she stuffed another of his fries into her mouth.
Katsuki sat in the booth of a nearby ramen shop, his chopsticks moving like lightning as he shoveled food into his mouth. His phone buzzed on the table, and he picked it up, glancing at the screen to see a message from Pretty Girl.
Pretty Girl: Hey, can you take a look at the pictures I sent? I’m stuck on a couple of the problems.
Katsuki quickly typed a reply, making sure his words were short and to the point. Send them over. I’ll check it.
He leaned back in his seat, continuing to inhale his lunch as he waited for the photos to load. Kirishima sat across from him, munching on his own food and giving him an amused look.
"You really know how to eat," Kirishima said, raising an eyebrow as Katsuki chomped down on another dumpling, barely pausing to breathe. "You’re gonna choke at this rate."
Katsuki didn’t even look up from his phone, his eyes flicking over the pictures Rosie had sent him. He quickly scanned her work, then typed out his response.
Katsuki: You missed a step here. You need to balance the equation first before you can get the molar ratio. Make sure you double check the units, too.
Katsuki shoveled more noodles into his mouth, the savory broth warming him as he slumped back in his seat. His eyes flicked over to Kirishima, who was giving him a knowing grin.
“It’s not everyday I see you glued to your phone like that,” Kirishima said, raising an eyebrow. “I take it things are going great with Rosie, huh?”
Katsuki snorted, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I haven’t done anything. Just helping her with homework.” He glanced at Kirishima, who was smirking in that annoyingly teasing way. “It’s not like I’m texting her every second.”
Kirishima rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat, still smirking. “Dude, you guys spend so much time together. And you’re always texting her, helping her out with stuff. Sounds pretty much like a couple to me.”
“Just because I like her doesn’t mean she likes me,” Katsuki muttered, the words falling out more easily than he intended. He took another bite of noodles, chewing slowly, trying to avoid Kirishima’s knowing gaze.
Kirishima shrugged but didn’t drop the teasing expression. “Doesn’t sound like it’s one-sided to me. I mean, you can’t seriously think she doesn’t like you back. You two are practically attached at the hip.”
Katsuki paused mid-bite, then snorted as he set the chopsticks down. “Maybe, but that doesn’t mean she’s interested in me like that,” he grumbled. He tried to downplay it, but Kirishima was right. They spent a lot of time together. There was always that subtle tension whenever they were around each other. The way her eyes sparkled when she smiled at him, how she always found a reason to touch him lightly—he could feel the difference.
“Come on, dude,” Kirishima leaned forward, eyes glinting with mischief. “It’s been a month. A whole month. You’re practically inseparable at this point. Just ask her out on a date. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Not happening,” Katsuki growled, picking up his bowl to take a gulp of broth, the heat helping him avoid making eye contact with his overly eager friend. “It’s only been a month. We’re just best friends.”
“Right, just best friends,” Kirishima deadpanned, clearly unconvinced. “A month and you two are attached at the hip. You sure you're not just trying to play it cool, pretending like you’re not already way past the ‘just best friends’ stage?”
Katsuki shot him a glare, irritation flickering in his chest. “I said, not happening.” He huffed, his tone firm and final. “You can’t just rush into stuff. She’s... different. I don’t wanna mess things up by being an idiot.”
Kirishima chuckled, shaking his head. “Man, you really think you’re the first guy to feel that way? Look, I get it. You’re not one to move slow, but with Rosie, you’ve got something good going. She’s into you, I can tell. And if you keep dragging your feet, you’re gonna lose your chance before you even realize it.”
Katsuki stiffened but didn’t say anything for a moment. The words stung more than he wanted to admit. He knew that Kirishima wasn’t wrong. He just wasn’t sure if he was ready to take that next step.
“I’m not some clueless idiot, man,” Katsuki muttered, a little defensively, though there was a trace of uncertainty in his voice. “I just... I’ll take my time with it.”
Kirishima leaned back, finally dropping the teasing tone, though his grin remained. “Alright, alright. Do it at your pace, man. But you better hurry, ‘cause I’m telling you, you don’t want to wait too long.”
His phone buzzed.
Kirishima wore a shit eating grin.
Pretty Girl: You’re amazing! Thank you so much! Honestly, I don't know what I would do without you.
Notes:
thank you for the support!
Chapter 19: Whatever you say, princess
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie sat at the counter, her phone in hand as she carefully corrected the mistakes in her chemistry homework. She muttered to herself, double-checking her calculations before finally sighing in relief. Slipping her phone back into her apron, she stuffed the finished homework into her backpack and placed it back into her locker.
Her break was almost over, and as usual, the cafe was short-staffed. She groaned under her breath, wishing their boss would finally hire more people. The team was small—just her, Kanako, Shinso, and two other coworkers who seemed to call out every other shift. It left the three of them to carry the weight, and today was no exception.
Rosie plastered on a cheerful smile as she stepped back behind the counter, just as the bell above the door chimed. A group of college students walked in, loud and full of energy. For a moment, her exhaustion tugged at her, but she pushed it aside and greeted them with practiced warmth.
“Welcome to Ishlamare Cafe!” she said brightly, taking their orders with the efficiency born of experience.
As the last of the group moved to the side, someone else stepped up to the counter. Her gaze landed on him, and she immediately recognized the sharp lines of his suit and the long, dark hair that framed his face. Riku, one of their regulars that she had a crush on, but she knew that a guy like him would never be interested in her. His presence always turned heads—his suit perfectly tailored, his posture effortlessly confident, and the tribal tattoo beneath his right eye adding a touch of intrigue.
“Good afternoon!” Rosie chirped, her smile unwavering. “What can I get you today?”
Riku’s lips curled into a lazy smile as his dark eyes lingered on her. “An iced coffee and a croissant to go.”
“Coming right up!” Rosie replied, punching his order into the register. She took his payment, her attention already turning to preparing his drink.
As she worked, Riku leaned casually against the counter, watching her with an air of easy charm. “Busy day?” he asked, his tone light but conversational.
“Oh, you know,” she said, glancing up briefly as she poured the coffee. “The usual chaos. But it’s going great!”
“You handle it well,” he remarked, his voice smooth. “Most people wouldn’t be able to keep a smile like that after a hectic shift.”
Rosie laughed softly, brushing off the compliment as she placed the croissant in a bag. “It’s all part of the job. Besides, smiling’s the easy part!”
“Still,” Riku said, his gaze not wavering, “you make it look natural. Not everyone can pull that off.”
She looked up, handing him the iced coffee and the neatly packaged croissant. “Well, thank you! That’s sweet of you to say.”
His fingers brushed hers briefly as he took the items, and he gave her another smile. “Anytime. I’ll see you around, Rosie.”
“See you! Have a great day!”
As Riku walked out the door, he glanced over his shoulder one last time, a smirk tugging at his lips. Rosie, however, had already turned to greet the next customer, blissfully unaware of this flirtatious behavior.
“I got us takeout!” Kanako called cheerfully as she stepped out of the kitchen, holding up the bags of food with a triumphant grin.
“Good, I’m starving!” Rosie groaned, leaning against the counter dramatically before standing upright.
From the staircase, Shinso appeared, balancing a tray of mugs and empty plates from earlier in the day. His expression was neutral as always, but the slight arch of his brow betrayed his curiosity. “Did someone say takeout?”
“Yes,” Kanako confirmed, her smile widening. “It just arrived, so let’s eat before the next rush hits.”
The three of them moved into the small kitchen area tucked behind the main counter. Kanako began unpacking the containers, the delicious smell of hot food filling the room. Rosie grabbed plates and utensils, while Shinso set his tray on the counter and leaned against it casually, watching them with mild interest.
“So,” Kanako started, passing a container to Rosie, “what’s new this week?”
“I’ve got some exciting news,” Rosie said, a bright smile lighting up her face. “My best friend from America, Akira, is coming to visit! She’s staying with me for a week, and I can’t wait to show her around.”
Kanako gasped, clapping her hands together. “That’s amazing! When does she arrive?”
“Friday,” Rosie replied, scooping rice onto her plate. “She’s been talking about visiting for ages, so I’m thrilled she finally gets to come.”
“That’s going to be so much fun,” Kanako said, already looking thoughtful. “We should plan a day trip while she’s here. Maybe go to the hot springs or take her to that new shopping district downtown?”
“Oh, she’d love that!” Rosie agreed enthusiastically.
Shinso smirked slightly as he opened a box of dumplings. “Sounds like you’ve got a busy week ahead. Meanwhile, I’ve got my own big plans—I’m finally buying a new car this weekend.”
Rosie paused mid-bite, her eyes widening. “What? Really?”
“Yep,” Shinso said, popping a dumpling into his mouth. “I’ve been saving up for ages since my current one has finally killed itself. I’m going to check out a couple of dealerships tomorrow.”
“That’s awesome,” Kanako said, her tone genuinely impressed. “You’ll have to let us know what you pick.”
“I’m leaning toward something simple and reliable,” Shinso shrugged. “Nothing flashy.”
“You mean nothing expensive,” Rosie teased with a grin, and Shinso gave her a deadpan look that only made her laugh harder.
The three of them continued to chat as they ate, swapping stories about the week. Kanako shared her plans for a trip next month, debating between the mountains and the beach, while Rosie promised to help her decide. Shinso, in his usual understated way, added his dry commentary that had them both laughing between bites.
Before long, their plates were empty, and the kitchen was filled with the hum of contentment. Kanako glanced at the clock. “We should probably get back to work before another wave of customers comes in.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Rosie said, stretching as she stood. “Thanks for the food, though. It was perfect.”
“Don’t mention it,” Kanako said with a wink. “Shinso is paying next time.”
Clocking out, Rosie stepped into the cool night air, her phone in hand as she scrolled through Linked. Her thumb hovered over a new post from Uncle Mic, her face lighting up with a smile at the photos. He and her dad were on their guys’ trip, and the pictures were classic: the two of them on the beach, laughing at a casino table, and a group shot at some bar. Best Jeanist was there, as polished as ever, alongside a hot blonde guy with red wings who caught her attention for a moment.
She liked the post and kept walking, the slightly crowded sidewalks buzzing with life around her. But as she navigated through the throng of people, the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. A wave of unease washed over her, and she found herself glancing around.
Was someone watching her?
Her eyes darted to the people around her—nothing stood out. Just strangers walking, talking, laughing, and going about their night. Frowning, she clutched her phone tightly, her steps quickening as she turned onto a quieter street. The feeling didn’t go away.
Heart pounding, Rosie made a split-second decision to keep walking, but instead of heading straight to her apartment, she veered toward the brightly lit grocery store a few blocks away. The automatic doors slid open, and she stepped inside, exhaling shakily as the fluorescent lights and bustling atmosphere offered a small sense of comfort.
She wandered the aisles, throwing random items into her cart—a couple of bottles of wine, fresh fruit and vegetables, and a collection of junk food she didn’t need but craved nonetheless. Still, the unease clung to her, making her pulse thrum in her ears.
After checking out, she stepped back into the night, clutching her two grocery bags like they were a shield. She scanned the streets one more time, but the tension in her chest didn’t dissipate. Forcing herself to walk confidently, she hurried toward her apartment, her fingers gripping her keys in her pocket, just in case.
Once she was safely inside her building, Rosie locked her door, sliding the bolt with a satisfying click. She leaned against the door, her heart still racing, before setting the bags down with a sigh.
She debated for a moment, then picked up her phone and dialed her dad’s number.
“Hey, sunshine,” his warm voice answered after the second ring.
“Hey, Dad. I just wanted to let you know I got home safe,” she said, forcing a lightness into her tone.
“Good to hear,” he replied, though she could hear the slight edge of concern. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” she lied, not wanting to worry him. “It was just a long day at work. How’s the trip going?”
They chatted for a few minutes, her dad recounting their casino adventures and how Uncle Mic had been banned from the roulette table for being “too loud.” Rosie laughed, feeling some of the tension melt away as her dad’s familiar voice filled the room.
“Alright, sunshine. You get some rest, okay? I love you.”
“I love you too, Dad,” Rosie said, hanging up. “See you tomorrow.”
She unpacked her groceries, setting the bottles of wine on the counter and starting to put away the vegetables when her phone buzzed with a FaceTime call. Katsuki’s name flashed on the screen.
A small smile tugged at her lips as she answered, propping the phone up on her kitchen island.
“Hey,” she greeted, watching his freshly showered face fill the screen. His damp hair clung to his forehead, and he was wearing those gray sweatpants that she secretly liked way too much.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice rough but warm.
“Putting groceries away,” she said, trying to focus on the vegetables in her hands and not how unfairly good he looked.
“Groceries? At this hour?” Katsuki raised a brow.
“Yeah, long story,” she replied, glancing at the screen.
He narrowed his eyes slightly. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, offering a reassuring smile. “Just a weird night.”
As she worked, she couldn’t help stealing glances at the screen. His eyes were on her, watching her move around the kitchen with a quiet intensity that made her heart flutter. She grabbed a carton of milk, setting it in the fridge, then paused when she noticed the smirk on his face.
“What?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Nothing,” he said, leaning back slightly. “Just watching you try to act like you’re not staring at me.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she threw a crumpled receipt at the phone, laughing when he scoffed.
“Shut up, Katsuki.”
“Whatever,” Katsuki muttered, but the small grin lingered on his face. He leaned back on his couch, his damp hair sticking up slightly in different directions, making him look annoyingly good without even trying. “How was work?” he asked, his voice low but genuinely curious.
“Exhausting,” Rosie sighed as she turned on the faucet, rinsing a handful of berries. “I swear, if one more person asks for something off-menu, I’m quitting on the spot.”
Katsuki smirked. “Quitting? What happened to all that hustle and grind you’re always talking about?”
“I can hustle somewhere else,” she muttered, scrubbing at an apple a little too aggressively. “Have you had dinner yet?”
“I was about to make something,” he said, running a hand through his hair. His sharp eyes stayed on her through the screen. “What are you eating?”
“No clue,” Rosie replied, setting the fruit on a towel to dry. “I still have to shower, do laundry, and take Maya out to the bathroom. Might just order takeout.”
Katsuki raised a brow. “You sound like you’re about to pass out.”
“Not far off,” she admitted, finally pulling her hair out of its messy bun. It fell in loose waves around her shoulders, and she ran a hand through it absentmindedly.
He huffed. “You want me to come over?”
“No,” she said immediately, giggling. “You need to get some sleep, or you’ll be Mr. Grumpy tomorrow.”
“Yeah?” His lips twitched into a smirk. “And who do you think keeps me from getting sleep, huh?”
She paused mid-motion, blinking at the screen in confusion. “Uh… you?”
Katsuki snorted, shaking his head as he leaned closer to the camera. “Sure, let’s go with that.”
Rosie ignored the strange tone in his voice and grabbed a glass container, starting to organize the berries. “You need to take better care of yourself, mister.”
“Says the girl who just said she’s too tired to cook and hasn’t eaten yet.” He tilted his head, giving her a pointed look.
“I’m fine,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“You’re full of crap,” he shot back, but his voice was more teasing than anything. “Order something healthy at least.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she replied, rolling her eyes as she popped a grape into her mouth.
“Don’t ‘yeah, yeah’ me,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not gonna let you eat garbage and pass out on the couch.”
Rosie stuck her tongue out at him, and Katsuki chuckled, the sound deep and soft, making her stomach flip slightly—not that she’d ever admit it.
“What’s funny?” she asked, raising a brow as she put the last of the fruit away.
“Nothing,” he said, the grin still on his face. “Just thinking how you’re pretty bossy for someone who doesn’t have their life together.”
Her jaw dropped in mock offense. “Excuse me, my life is very together, thank you very much.”
“Sure it is,” he said, his smirk widening. “You’re always running around like a headless chicken.”
“Am not!” she protested, crossing her arms.
“Whatever you say, princess.”
Her cheeks warmed at the nickname, but she brushed it off, thinking he was just being his usual, sarcastic self. “I’ll let that slide since you’re half-asleep and clearly delusional.”
Katsuki snorted. “Delusional? You wish I was.”
She frowned, confused. “What does that even mean?”
“Nothing,” he said, biting back a grin as he leaned back again. “So, are you ordering takeout or what?”
Rosie sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine, I’ll order something. Happy now?”
“Thrilled,” he deadpanned, though the small smirk still played on his lips.
As she grabbed her phone to pull up the takeout app, Katsuki watched her through the screen, the corners of his mouth twitching as she muttered to herself about what to get. She was completely oblivious to the way he was looking at her—his usual sharp gaze softened, a rare hint of warmth in his eyes.
“You’re staring,” she said without looking up, her tone teasing.
“Yeah,” he said casually. “It’s funny watching you act like deciding what to eat is life or death.”
She snorted. “It is life or death, thank you very much.”
He chuckled again, shaking his head. “You’re something else, Rosie.”
“Better be something good,” she quipped, finally glancing up at him with a grin.
“Yeah,” he muttered, his voice low. “It is.”
Rosie blinked, the subtle weight of his words catching her off guard for a moment. But before she could process it, Katsuki smirked and added, “Now hurry up. I’m starving just watching you.”
She rolled her eyes, dismissing the strange moment as just more of his teasing, and went back to her phone. “You’re impossible, Katsuki.”
“And you love it,” he said with a cocky grin, making her laugh.
“Goodnight, Katsuki,” she said, shaking her head.
“Night, Rosie.” His grin softened, and with a quick wave, the call ended, leaving her wondering if maybe there was something more to his teasing after all.
Nah, Katsuki just enjoyed messing with her.
Rosie walked into the classroom, her bag slung over one shoulder and two coffees in hand. The soft hum of chatter filled the room as her classmates settled in, but her eyes instinctively flicked to Katsuki’s usual seat. He wasn’t there yet.
Shaking her head with a small smile, she placed one of the coffees on his desk before turning to her own seat in front of him. She slid into her chair, set her own coffee beside her laptop, and powered it on, her fingers moving quickly to bring up her notes.
Her phone buzzing in her pocket, and she pulled it out to see a text from Akira.
Akira: Good morning!
Akira: I’m ALMOST done packing!!
Akira: Japan, here I come! 🇯🇵✨
Rosie: Afternoon! ☕ I just got to class.
Rosie: Almost done? How many suitcases are you bringing?
Akira: Two big ones and a carry-on! I’m leaving one of them empty as I plan on buying a lot of souvenirs and clothes.
Akira: Also, I have a list of things I wanna do while I’m there.
Rosie: Oh boy, let’s hear it.
Akira:
1. Eat at ALL the best sushi places. 🍣
2. Visit Harajuku for some shopping. 🛍️
3. Go to a karaoke bar! 🎤
4. See a shrine while dressed in a traditional but super cute kimono—like, a really beautiful one. ⛩️
5. Girls trip to a Hot Spring!
6. Oh, and I wanna try one of those fancy vending machine meals.
Rosie: That’s an ambitious list for one week.
Akira: Pfft. We can do it. I’m dragging you everywhere and we’ll definitely be going out dancing. 😈
Rosie: Can’t wait to see you, honestly.
Akira: Me too!! It’s been way too long. 🥹
Akira: Oh! And tell me again—what’s your favorite place to get coffee? I’m adding it to my list.
Rosie: I’ll take you to my work. It’s my treat. 😉
Akira: You’re the best, babes. 💕
Akira: Alright, I need to finish packing. See you on Friday!!
Rosie: See you soon! Safe travels! 🛫
Rosie set her phone down with a grin, her excitement bubbling over. It had been nearly seven months since she’d last seen Akira, and the thought of exploring Japan together made her morning instantly brighter. She took a sip of her coffee, her gaze flicking to Katsuki’s still-empty seat, wondering when he’d decide to stroll in.
Turning her attention back to her laptop, Rosie pulled up her growing list of places she wanted to show Akira. With a few quick clicks, she added Akira’s must-see spots and began booking reservations. She wanted everything to go smoothly, from sushi dinners to the perfect karaoke spot.
Rosie felt a surge of gratitude for her Dad, who had agreed to let her miss most of her classes to spend time with Akira. Luckily, her other two classes were online, leaving only her chemistry lectures to attend. She’d managed to clear her schedule as much as possible, though she still had to work two shifts while Akira was visiting.
As she finalized plans, a wave of excitement mixed with a hint of nervousness washed over her. She wanted this trip to be unforgettable for Akira—and for herself. Smiling softly, she made a mental note to double-check her itinerary later, just as the classroom door opened and Katsuki strolled in.
“Good morning,” Rosie greeted with a bright smile, turning in her seat just as Katsuki dropped into his.
“You’re in a better mood than usual,” he remarked, taking the coffee she’d left for him. He took a sip, raising an eyebrow. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied, her grin widening. “Guess what? My best friend Akira is flying in early Friday morning! She’s staying for a whole week, and I’ve planned so much for us to do! I can’t wait to introduce her to everyone.”
Katsuki smirked, leaning on his desk with his head propped in one hand, his sharp eyes watching her. “I thought I was your best friend,” he teased, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.
She rolled her eyes, laughing. “You’re my male best friend, silly. Completely different category.”
“Uh-huh,” he drawled, shaking his head. “What time’s her flight coming in?”
“3 a.m., I think,” she said, scrunching her nose at the thought of the early hour.
“Better drink more coffee that day,” he quipped, taking another sip from his cup, his smirk deepening as he watched her excitement. “You’ll need it.”
Between school, work, and her other responsibilities—like taking Maya to the vet for updated flea medication—Rosie had spent the entire week preparing for Akira’s arrival. She’d stocked her fridge with groceries, scrubbed every inch of her apartment, and made sure every detail was perfect.
“You need to get some sleep,” Katsuki muttered, sipping a beer from her couch as he watched her dart around the apartment like a whirlwind, checking for last-minute things to do.
“But—”
“No buts,” he cut her off, standing to follow her as she carried a stack of freshly folded towels into the bathroom. “You’re picking her up, right? Flight lands at three a.m., so you’re gonna need your energy.”
Rosie rolled her eyes as she tucked the towels neatly into the cabinet, only to whirl around when Katsuki grabbed her. “What are you—?”
Ignoring her protest, he effortlessly hoisted her over his shoulder. Maya barked excitedly, bounding after them as Katsuki marched toward her bedroom.
“Katsuki!” Rosie yelped, but her words dissolved into laughter as he dropped her unceremoniously onto her bed.
“Get some sleep,” he ordered, crossing his arms and towering over her.
She frowned, crossing her own arms in defiance. “We were supposed to hang out today!”
“Then we’ll cancel going out with Kirishima and Mina and stay here,” he snorted, rolling his eyes.
“How is it fair for you to stay here while I sleep?” she countered, sitting up. “At least take a nap with me.”
He stared at her, one eyebrow twitching. “Rosie—”
“I’m serious,” she interrupted, lying back down and pointing at the empty side of the bed. “If you don’t nap with me, I won’t sleep.”
For a long moment, he said nothing, just stood there looking between her and the bed with a flat expression. Finally, he sighed heavily, muttering under his breath as he turned toward the light switch and flicked it off.
“Go change,” Katsuki rasped, moving to the other side of the bed.
Rosie grinned triumphantly, slipping off the bed and heading to her closet. She quickly changed into a pair of soft shorts and a loose t-shirt, making sure to grab an extra blanket for Maya to curl up on at the foot of the bed. Climbing back into bed, she glanced at the clock—it was only eight p.m. That would give her more than enough time to rest before Akira’s flight.
Turning her head, she found Katsuki lying on his back, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. The dim light from the window cast soft shadows across his features.
“Thank you for being amazing, Katsuki,” she murmured sleepily, her voice soft.
He didn’t reply immediately, but a low grunt of acknowledgment rumbled from his chest. Rosie smiled faintly before closing her eyes and drifting off, her exhaustion finally catching up with her.
Notes:
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Chapter 20: Don't flake Bakubro
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki stirred as the faint glow of moonlight filtered through the curtains, his senses slowly coming alive. Warmth radiated against him, and his brows furrowed before he blinked himself fully awake. Looking down, he was greeted by the sight of Rosie sprawled over him, her head resting squarely on his chest, her leg draped over his waist like he was a human body pillow.
He froze for a moment, his brain scrambling to make sense of the situation. He was in a bed with a woman. A woman who hadn’t punched him, pushed him away, or, hell, even yelled at him to move over. They hadn’t had sex—he was absolutely sure of that—but here she was, clinging to him as though he were her lifeline.
Then he remembered.
She asked him to nap with her.
Right.
His eyes softened as the realization hit him: he liked this. More than liked it. He liked the feeling of her weight pressed against him, her soft breaths against his chest, and the trust she must’ve had to sleep like this beside him. For a moment, he just stared, feeling something foreign and warm curl in his chest. He didn’t want this to end.
Peeking over at the clock on her nightstand, he noted the time: 1:00 a.m. She’d have to get up in an hour to get ready for the airport. Sighing quietly, Katsuki reached over to his phone, careful not to disturb her, and set an alarm for 2:00 a.m.
As he placed his phone back down, he felt her shift. Rosie’s arms tightened around him, and her leg curled further over his body as though she could sense his movement and didn’t want him to leave. Katsuki let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling in his chest as he shook his head in disbelief.
“Clingy little thing, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice soft and amused.
His free hand drifted to her thigh, his fingers tracing slow circles against the fabric of her shorts. He felt her body relax further against him, her breathing evening out. A small, sleepy sound escaped her lips, and he found himself smiling despite himself.
Closing his eyes again, Katsuki let his head fall back against the pillow, his hand continuing its soothing motion on her leg. For now, he decided he'd enjoy the moment. Rosie would have to wake up soon enough, but until then, this was his—hers—and he wasn’t going to move a centimeter.
The blaring alarm jarred Katsuki awake, and he groaned, reaching over to silence it. He blindly hit the snooze button before tossing the phone somewhere on the bed. Rolling over, he buried himself further into Rosie, his face nestled against her hair as her warmth lulled him back toward sleep.
She stirred against him, her soft hum making him smile faintly despite himself.
“What time is it?” she murmured, her voice groggy.
“Two,” he rasped, his voice still heavy with sleep. He tightened his arm around her waist, pulling her closer as though he could keep her there just a little longer.
“Katsuki…” Her breathy voice sent a jolt through him as she shifted in his hold, her body brushing against his in a way that made his chest tighten. “I need to get up and get ready.”
“Then get up,” he muttered, his words muffled as he buried his face deeper into her hair, inhaling the faint scent of her shampoo.
She giggled softly, the sound bright and teasing in the stillness of the room. “I can’t do that if you’re holding me down.”
Rosie gently turned in his arms, her movements deliberate but careful not to pull too far away. When her face tilted up to meet his, her expression was soft, and her smile was warm, even in the dim light. Her eyes shimmered with amusement, a mixture of affection and fondness evident in her gaze.
“I’ll make it up to you later,” she promised, her voice quiet yet sincere. “But I need to get up right now.”
Katsuki stared down at her, his crimson eyes locked with hers as if he was trying to commit the moment to memory. His grip on her waist loosened slightly, though his hand lingered.
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, his voice rough but not unkind. He leaned back just enough to let her slip free, though his arm still rested across her lower back. “Go on, then. Go get ready.”
Rosie sat up, her hair tousled from sleep, and glanced over at the clock. With a sigh, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood, her bare feet padding softly against the floor as she made her way to the closet. Katsuki propped himself up on one elbow, watching her with an unreadable expression.
While Rosie was in the shower, Katsuki let his eyes wander around her bedroom. It was his third time here, but the first chance he had to really take it all in.
The room, much like the rest of her apartment, was spacious and neatly kept. White walls and gray furniture gave the space a clean, modern feel, accented by a large pink fluffy rug that added a touch of her personality. Her bed was framed in white, dressed with gray pillows, a comforter, and pink detailing that tied it all together.
His gaze lingered on the little details that spoke of his presence in her life—his jackets hung neatly in her closet, two of his shirts folded on a shelf where she had stashed them after stealing them from his place. He didn’t mind; she looked better in them anyway.
His charger rested on her desk, a toothbrush stood in her bathroom, and a few of his clothes lay tucked in her drawers from the many nights he’d stayed over. He smirked, shaking his head. Somehow, this place felt like a second home.
Standing from the bed, he took a moment to remake it, smoothing out the blankets. His gaze landed on her collage wall, a collection of photos showcasing her friends and memories. Among them, he noticed more pictures of his classmates, but one corner was distinctly different—a section dedicated entirely to her and him.
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed slightly as he stepped closer, his attention caught by a specific photo. It was from their bowling outing last weekend, taken just after he’d gotten a strike. His smirk in the picture was smug, and she was beside him, laughing with that stupidly, perfect smile that made his chest feel tight.
The sound of the bathroom door opening pulled him from his thoughts. He turned, and his breath hitched. Rosie stepped out, dressed in gray sweats that came up to her waist and a black long-sleeve compression crop top that clung to her figure.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he muttered before he could stop himself.
Rosie froze mid-step, her cheeks flushing pink as she finished braiding her hair. “This? This is nothing,” she stammered, avoiding his gaze.
Katsuki smirked, leaning back against her desk as his eyes roamed over her once more. “Are you sure that’s enough to keep you warm?” he asked, one brow raised.
“Yeah, of course it is,” she replied, rolling her eyes but still fidgeting slightly under his gaze.
He pushed off the desk and crossed his arms. “I’ll drop you off at the airport.”
Rosie frowned, tilting her head. “You don’t want to meet her?”
“She’s staying for a whole week,” he pointed out. “I’ll meet her after you two have spent some time catching up.”
As she grabbed her phone and purse, she pouted slightly.
“Gonna miss me that much?” Katsuki’s smirk widened, his tone turning teasing.
“Yeah, we did just sleep together.” Rosie’s smiled before her words finally registered what she had said causing her jaw to drop, her blush deepening as she whipped around to stare at him. “I didn’t mean it like that!”
He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling as he walked toward her, his crimson eyes glinting with mischief. “Next time, we’ll sleep together at my place,” he said, leaning in just enough for her to feel the heat of his words before turning toward the front door.
Rosie stood there, her heart pounding, her cheeks burning, and her mind racing. “You’re such a perv,” she muttered, following him out with a huff.
Katsuki glanced over as Rosie applied lip gloss in the passenger seat, her focus on the small mirror she held up. He’d noticed before that she kept a few essentials in his glove compartment—a tube of her favorite lip gloss, a scrunchie (something he’d only recently learned was for her hair), and a small bottle of her perfume. She’d stashed them there, claiming they were necessities for when she was in his car. He didn’t complain; it was just another little reminder of her that lingered even when she wasn’t around.
“Thanks for driving me, but I could’ve taken a cab, y’know?” Rosie said, snapping her compact shut and slipping it into her purse.
Katsuki snorted as he turned into the airport drop-off lane. “I was already heading home, so it’s not like it’s out of my way.” He brought the car to a stop at the curb and shifted into park, glancing at her. “Just text me when you get home, alright?”
She smiled, her expression soft. “Alright. Will I see you later today?”
He hesitated, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “I’ve got work, the gym, and some other shit to do,” he muttered, avoiding her gaze. “We’ll see.”
Rosie tilted her head, a small pout forming. “You’ll at least text me, right?”
Katsuki swallowed thickly, gripping the wheel tighter than necessary. “Of course, you stupid girl,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended.
Her face lit up, the brightness of her smile hitting him like a punch to the chest. Before he could react, she leaned over and wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug.
“Thank you, Katsuki!” she chirped as she pulled back, opening the car door. “Bye, Katsuki!”
He watched her as she stepped out, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder. She turned to wave one last time before heading toward the entrance. Katsuki didn’t move, his eyes following her every step, his jaw clenched as he fought the strange urge to call her back.
Only when she disappeared through the airport doors did he finally release a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “So fucking adorable,” he muttered under his breath, his chest feeling heavier than usual.
Shaking his head, Katsuki shifted the car into drive and pulled away from the curb, the image of her beaming face still stuck in his mind as he made his way home.
It wasn’t until he got home and kicked off his boots that his phone buzzed once, then twice, and then a third time. Grabbing it from his pocket, he glanced at the screen. The first notification was from Linked. Clicking it, he saw a photo of Akira and Rosie in front of the airport, both smiling brightly. Another swipe revealed a picture of them grabbing coffee at Rosie’s workplace—apparently, the 24/7 café was already part of the itinerary. He liked the post before switching to his text messages, where he noticed Rosie had sent him two texts.
Pretty Girl: on my way home
The next text was a selfie of her in the back of a taxi, her lips slightly pouty as she made a peace sign. Her hair looked a little mussed, probably from her hug with Akira, and her cheeks were rosy from the chill in the air.
He saved the photo without hesitation, muttering to himself, “Damn pretty girl.”
Katsuki: Try not to stay up all night
A few seconds later, the dots indicating she was typing appeared, and then her reply popped up.
Pretty Girl: We took a nap together, I’m fine 💕
Katsuki snorted, tossing his shirt somewhere on the floor as he made his way to bed. He sank down onto the mattress, resting against the headboard as he typed back.
Katsuki: You’re going to be tired and whining about wanting to sleep by five if you stay up all night.
Her response came almost instantly.
Pretty Girl: False accusations 😤
He rolled his eyes, smirking.
Katsuki: Yeah right.
He paused for a moment, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. There was something comforting about their easy banter, a warmth in knowing she was safe and happy.
Katsuki: Goodnight, idiot.
A few moments passed before her reply came through.
Pretty Girl: Goodnight 💕
Setting his phone down on the nightstand, Katsuki leaned back into his pillows, staring at the ceiling for a moment. The faintest trace of a smile lingered on his lips as he closed his eyes.
Then, just as he started to drift off, his phone buzzed again.
He reached over with a groggy grumble, squinting at the screen.
Pretty Girl: PS: Miss you already 😊
Katsuki chuckled under his breath, shaking his head as he typed back.
Katsuki: Tch, clingy.
But before putting his phone away, he added:
Katsuki: Miss you too, dumbass. Get some sleep.
Katsuki slammed his door shut, shoving his keys into his pocket, eager to take a long shower, and maybe crash for a few hours. As he grabbed his phone from his pocket, it buzzed with a notification.
He squinted at the screen, a new message lighting up their old group chat titled "Dumb Band Shenanigans." He hadn't seen that name pop up since the summer.
Kaminari: Yo, squad! Guess what? WE’VE BEEN ASKED TO PLAY THIS WEDNESDAY! Practice at Tokoyami’s in an hour. Don’t flake, Bakubro. 😎🎸
Katsuki snorted at the text, shaking his head. He scrolled up to see the rest of the messages he had missed.
Jirou: Kaminari convinced me. I hate to admit it, but it actually sounds fun to play again.
Momo: I can’t wait to play again, see you guys! I’ll bring snacks!
Tokoyami: My lair is always open for musical endeavors of darkness and power.
Kaminari: Which is goth for “my house is cool, let’s jam.”
Katsuki’s finger hovered over the keyboard as he debated whether to respond. Did he really want to spend his evening with these nerds playing for a band that they only experimented with over the years? A small smirk crept across his face as he thought about the chaos they’d caused back then when they first formed it. The memories were stupid, sure, but they were good ones.
Katsuki: Fine. Be there in an hour. Don’t suck.
It didn’t take long for Kaminari to respond.
Kaminari: YEAH, LET’S GO!!! 😤🔥
Jirou: This is going to be hilarious.
Momo: I’ll bring snacks!
Tokoyami: The darkness of melody awaits.
Katsuki rolled his eyes at Tokoyami’s dramatics and shoved his phone back into his pocket. “Guess I’m not going to sleep just yet,” he muttered to himself as he headed to his bathroom to shower. “Let’s see if these extras can keep up.”
Katsuki leaned back against the wall of Tokoyami's dimly lit living room, his arms crossed as he watched Kaminari pluck at his guitar strings and Jirou adjust the sound levels on the makeshift setup. They had spent the last two hours running through the setlist Jirou had put together. Even Katsuki had to admit they didn’t sound half bad for a bunch of amateurs revisiting an old hobby.
“Alright, break time,” Jirou announced, stretching her arms above her head. “If we keep going without one, Kaminari’s fingers are gonna fall off.”
“Rude,” Kaminari muttered, shaking his hand out theatrically.
Katsuki pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time. His brow furrowed as he saw the clock flash 10:00 PM. Along with that, his screen was lit up with a barrage of notifications—most of them from Linked and his text messages.
Tapping on Linked first, Katsuki scrolled through the recent posts. Rosie. Of course. She had been out all day with her best friend, Akira, and from the looks of it, they’d been hitting all the spots she had been yapping about all week.
The first photo was of Rosie at a shrine, dressed in a delicate pink, white, and silver kimono. Her hair was pinned up with intricate accessories, soft tendrils framing her face. Akira stood beside her, grinning. Katsuki felt a pang in his chest as he liked the post, his thumb hovering over the comment section. He noticed a comment from Shinso:
Shinso: Absolutely stunning, as always.
“Stupid bastard,” Katsuki muttered under his breath, resisting the urge to fire back in the comments.
The next few photos weren’t any better for his self-control. One showed her holding a tiny gray cat at a café, the feline nuzzling into her palm. Another was of her and Akira sharing a platter of sushi, Rosie's laughter captured mid-frame. The final post was of them shopping, Rosie holding up a small pink handbag with a triumphant grin. He quickly liked all the photos before switching to his messages.
Sure enough, Rosie had spammed him.
Pretty Girl: Just went to a shrine! Wish you could’ve seen it 😭💕
Pretty Girl: LOOK AT THIS CAT 🐱 (attached image of a fluffy black kitten)
Pretty Girl: Ate so much sushi I might explode 🐟😂
Pretty Girl: Do you think this purse is cute? 👛 (attached photo of the pink handbag)
Pretty Girl: You’re probably busy, but I miss you. Text me when you’re free, okay?
He sighed, shaking his head as a faint smirk tugged at his lips. She was exhausting sometimes, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Something funny?” Jirou asked, plopping down on the couch beside him with a soda.
“Nothing,” Katsuki muttered, typing a response.
Katsuki: Busy practicing. The shrine looked cool. Buy the purse if you want it. And yeah, the cat’s alright.
He hesitated for a second before adding:
Katsuki: Miss you too, idiot.
Pocketing his phone, he stood up and stretched, the faintest smile still on his face. “Alright, break’s over. Let’s finish this set so I can get outta here.”
“Someone’s in a hurry,” Kaminari teased, wagging his eyebrows.
“Shut up and tune your damn guitar,” Katsuki shot back, but there was no real bite in his voice as they all returned to their instruments.
They entered Silven's arcade bar and restaurant, Katsuki, Kirishima, Shoto, and Deku pushed through the doors. The atmosphere inside was a mix of clinking glasses, chiming arcade machines, and bursts of laughter from every corner. It was a spot they hadn’t visited in a while, but it felt good to blow off steam after a long week and even longer weekend.
The group made their way to the bar first, Kirishima enthusiastically ordering a round of beers for everyone. Katsuki leaned against the counter, arms crossed, already surveying the pool tables across the room.
"Been a while since we had a night out like this," Kirishima grinned, handing out the drinks. "Gotta say, I’ve missed it."
“Just don’t cry when I destroy you at pool,” Katsuki retorted, taking a swig of his beer.
“You’re pretty confident for someone who scratched on the break last time,” Shoto commented dryly, his dual-colored gaze calm but mischievous.
Deku laughed nervously. “Let’s not forget how competitive these games get, guys.”
“Speak for yourself, nerd. Some of us know how to win,” Katsuki snapped, though the corners of his mouth twitched like he was holding back a smirk.
With their drinks in hand, they moved to a pool table near the back, where the lighting was dimmer, but the energy of the room still buzzed around them. Kirishima set up the balls, racking them with practiced ease while Shoto chalked up a cue stick.
"Alright, teams or free-for-all?" Kirishima asked, his red eyes flicking between the group.
“Free-for-all,” Katsuki said immediately, rolling his shoulders. “I don’t need backup to crush you idiots.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Shoto muttered, lining up to break.
The game began, and as expected, the trash talk was as loud as the jukebox playing in the background. Shoto’s break sent a solid and a stripe into the pockets, earning a low whistle from Kirishima.
“Show-off,” Katsuki muttered, taking another sip of his drink.
“You say that now, but wait till it’s your turn,” Shoto replied, his tone mild but smug.
Deku stepped up next, fumbling slightly with his cue as he adjusted his stance. Katsuki scoffed. “You holding that thing or wrestling it, Deku?”
“I-I’ve got this!” Deku stammered, focusing hard. His shot miraculously sank a striped ball, and he grinned triumphantly. “See?”
“Beginner’s luck,” Katsuki barked, pushing past him to take his turn. He lined up his shot, every movement calculated and precise, and sank two solid balls in quick succession. “Like that, nerd.”
Kirishima was up next, chuckling as he pointed his cue at Katsuki. “Careful, Bakugou. You might choke on all that confidence.”
The game continued, punctuated by banter, laughter, and the occasional frustrated groan when someone missed an easy shot. As the drinks flowed, they began to argue over rules.
By the time the game wound down, Shoto had emerged victorious, his calm demeanor hiding the competitive glint in his eyes. Katsuki grumbled something about beginner’s luck, while Deku eagerly asked for another round, determined to redeem himself.
“Let’s take five first,” Kirishima suggested, grabbing the empty glasses. “Next round’s on me.”
As they settled into a booth nearby, Katsuki leaned back, crossing his arms as he watched the arcade lights dance across the room. For all the chaos, the night wasn’t so bad after all.
Yet he couldn’t stop thinking about Rosie.
He seriously missed her and it pissed him off that he couldn’t see her.
Notes:
my boyfriends car and his place is filled with my things, from lipgloss to clothes and shoes and my favorite snacks while my room back home and dorm has a bunch of his things too🤭
Chapter 21: He's my best friend...right?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie laid in bed, her eyes heavy as she stared at the phone screen in her hand. It read 8:00 a.m. She sighed, knowing she needed to get up and start the day or they’d miss their train. But exhaustion clung to her like a weight, making even the thought of moving feel unbearable.
Turning her head, she glanced over to see Akira still sound asleep, her face peaceful against the pillow. Smiling softly, Rosie decided not to disturb her. She pushed herself up, groaning quietly as she slipped out of bed. Maya greeted her with a small yip as Rosie padded into the kitchen, carefully shutting the bedroom door behind her.
“Morning, Maya,” she whispered, filling the dog’s bowl with food.
As Maya eagerly started eating, Rosie found herself scrolling through her text messages with Katsuki. It had been days since she last saw him, and even though Akira’s visit had been amazing, she couldn’t help but miss him.
Her thumb hovered over the call button next to his contact, labeled Mr. Grumpy. She bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before hitting it. The phone rang once before his familiar deep, raspy voice came through the line.
“Good morning,” Katsuki muttered, his tone rough from sleep. The sound sent a flutter through her chest.
“Good morning,” she replied, suddenly shy as she reached for the eggs and milk. “Did I wake you?”
“I had to get up anyway,” he grumbled. “Got work in an hour.”
“You’re not going to class?” Rosie frowned
It was Monday. He should be in class already actually.
“I was scheduled to work today since the two other drivers called in sick, so I have to miss class today.” His voice was tired
“How long do you have today?” Rosie asked, setting the ingredients on the counter.
“Until three,” he said with a yawn. She could picture him stretching, probably still sitting on the edge of his bed with his hair sticking up in every direction.
“You work too much,” she teased, cracking an egg into a bowl.
“Yeah, well, some of us actually do shit all day,” he shot back, though there was no real bite to his tone. “What about you? What’s the plan for today?”
“We’re catching a train to visit another shrine,” Rosie said, whisking the eggs. “Akira wants to take a picture in every kimono shop we pass.”
“Tch, sounds exhausting.”
“It is,” she laughed softly. “But it’s fun too. I just wish…” She trailed off, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
“What?” he prompted, his voice gentler now.
“Nothing,” she said quickly, shaking her head even though he couldn’t see her. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”
There was a pause on the line, and then he said, “Make sure you’re eating enough, dumbass. And don’t push yourself too hard.”
Rosie smiled, her chest warming at his concern. “I will. Promise.”
“Good,” he muttered. “Text me when you’re on the train. I’ll probably be on my break by then.”
“I will,” she said softly, her heart fluttering again. “I should finish breakfast now. I’ll text you later.”
“Be safe, alright?” he said, his voice firm.
“I will. Have a good day at work, Katsuki.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered before ending the call.
Rosie smiled at her phone for a moment, setting it aside as she resumed cooking.
The sound of footsteps behind her made her turn. Akira stood in the doorway, yawning and rubbing her eyes. “Who were you talking to so early?” she asked, her voice still thick with sleep.
“No one,” Rosie said quickly, her face heating as she flipped the eggs in the pan.
Akira raised an eyebrow but said nothing, instead plopping down at the table with a sleepy grin. “Smells good. You’re spoiling me, you know that?”
Rosie laughed, handing Akira a steaming cup of coffee. “It’s what best friends are for.” She turned back to the stove, flipping the eggs in the pan with practiced ease. Her thoughts drifted briefly to Katsuki, and a small, involuntary smile tugged at her lips.
Akira stretched her arms above her head, still groggy but awake enough to notice Rosie’s expression. “Alright, spill it. Who’s got you smiling like that this early in the morning?”
“What?” Rosie’s head snapped toward her, feigning innocence.
“You’ve got that dreamy look,” Akira teased, her grin mischievous. “Was it the guy you were talking to on the phone earlier?”
Rosie flushed, focusing intently on the eggs. “You’re imagining things.”
“Sure, I am,” Akira said with a knowing smirk, taking a sip of her coffee. “So, another shrine today?”
“Yes,” Rosie replied quickly, grateful for the change in topic. “We can stop and get coffee on the way out.”
“Perfect,” Akira grinned. “And tonight, I finally get to meet your friends from your dad’s class, right?”
Rosie nodded, plating the eggs and sliding one over to Akira. “Yep. We’re all meeting up for drinks at Silven’s.”
“Ooo, Silven’s? That’s the arcade bar you told me about, right?”
“Yeah,” Rosie said, settling into her chair with her own plate. “It’s a popular hangout for university students, and the drinks are decent.”
Akira forked a bite of eggs and nodded approvingly. “Sounds like a good time. So, shrine in the morning, shopping in Harajuku, and then lunch back here before we get ready?”
“Exactly,” Rosie said, taking a bite of her food.
“Thankfully, we did most of the things I wanted over the weekend, so the rest of the week should be pretty relaxed.”
“Good, because I’m exhausted,” Rosie said
“Yeah, yeah.” Akira yawned again, covering her mouth. “Are we seeing your dad today?”
“He said he’ll be dropping by later,” Rosie said, suppressing her own yawn. “He wants to make sure you’re properly spoiled during your visit.”
Akira grinned. “I approve. Your dad’s the best.”
A little later, Rosie and Akira arrived at the coffee shop where Rosie worked part-time. The bell above the door jingled as they stepped inside, and Akira immediately took in the warm, inviting space. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods filled the air, and soft indie music played in the background.
“Rosie!” Kanako called from behind the counter, her ponytail swinging as she waved. “You’re not working today, are you?”
“Nope, just stopping by to introduce someone,” Rosie said, nudging Akira forward. “Kanako, this is Akira, my best friend. Akira, meet Kanako. She’s the friend I talked about that goes on vacations constantly..”
Kanako wiped her hands on her apron and leaned over the counter, offering Akira a warm handshake. “Nice to meet you! Rosie talks about you all the time.”
“All good things, I hope,” Akira said, her smile as bright as the morning sun streaming through the windows.
“Mostly about how you’re the life of the party,” Kanako teased, winking playfully. “And about how you used to keep her out way past her respectable bedtime.”
Rosie rolled her eyes dramatically. “Don’t listen to her. She’s worse than you are when it comes to that.”
“Guilty as charged,” Akira admitted with a laugh.
Kanako grinned, leaning back on the counter. “Anyway, what can I get you two?”
“A large brown sugar iced coffee,” Rosie said promptly, already fishing out her wallet.
“And I’ll have a large cold brew,” Akira added, sliding some bills across the counter with a quick smile.
Kanako nodded, taking their payment. “Got it. I’ll have those ready in a minute.”
Just as she was about to start preparing their drinks, a loud crash echoed from upstairs, followed by a muffled apology. Kanako sighed, grabbing a rag. “Great. I’ll leave you two in Shinso’s capable hands while I go see what disaster just happened.”
As if on cue, Shinso appeared from the back, tying his apron behind him. “Perfect timing, huh?” he muttered, stepping up to the counter. He glanced at Akira before his gaze settled on Rosie. “Morning, Rosie.”
Rosie smiled,“Shinso, this is Akira, my best friend. Akira, meet Shinso, my friend and coworker.”
“Nice to meet you, Akira,” Shinso said, his voice smooth as he extended a hand.
“You too,” Akira replied, shaking it. She arched an eyebrow at Rosie, clearly amused.
Shinso started making their drinks, his movements precise and effortless. “So, Akira,” he said casually, “has Rosie always been this kind?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Akira said with a grin. “But don’t let that smile fool you, she has a bit of a mean streak if you get on her bad side.”
Shinso glanced at Rosie, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Guess I’ll take your word for it.”
Rosie crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at him. “Don’t you have coffee to make?”
“I’m multitasking,” he shot back, sliding the finished drinks across the counter a moment later. “There you go, Rosie. And for your friend.”
“Thanks,” Rosie said curtly, grabbing the cups and shoving one into Akira’s hands.
Akira watched the exchange with thinly veiled amusement as they left the shop and started walking toward the train station. Rosie’s cheeks were slightly pink, though she pretended not to notice.
“So,” Akira began, taking a sip of her cold brew, “have you gone on any dates since you got here?”
Rosie snorted into her iced coffee. “No. Between work, school, Maya, and Dad, I don’t have time for it, plus I love spending time with my friends.”
Akira grinned, already anticipating her answer. “Alright, has any guy shown interest in you?”
Rosie scoffed. “Not a chance. Guys don’t really... do that with me.”
Akira gave her a knowing look, hiding her smile behind her cup. Rosie’s obliviousness was both endearing and maddening. “Uh-huh. Sure, they don’t.”
“What?” Rosie asked, glancing at her.
“Nothing,” Akira said, her grin widening as she took another sip. Rosie had no idea just how much attention she attracted—and how thoroughly she ignored it.
Rosie and Akira made it back to Rosie’s apartment, chatting animatedly about the morning’s adventures. The door clicked shut behind them as they slipped off their shoes. Maya barked from her bed in the corner, clearly annoyed at their prolonged absence. Rosie walked over to scratch her behind the ears while Akira plopped onto the couch with a sigh.
“Feels good to be back,” Akira said, stretching.
“Yeah, but we can’t stay long. We still have Harajuku,” Rosie reminded her, heading to the kitchen to pour them some water.
Before Akira could respond, there was a knock at the door. Rosie glanced at her friend before opening it to reveal her father, Aizawa, standing there smiling.
“Hey Dad!’ Rosie smiled, moving to hug him.
“Hi sunshine, did you have a great day so far!” Aizawa hugged her back, stepping inside. “Nice to see you again Akira.’
“Hi!” Akira grinned.
Aizawa turned back to Rosie. “Where are you two heading?”
“Harajuku,” Rosie replied, setting the glasses of water on the coffee table. “We’re planning to do some shopping.”
Aizawa raised an eyebrow. “Harajuku? I’ll go with you. I need to pick up a few things in the area.”
Rosie and Akira exchanged a look. “So you’ll be driving?”
“Yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck.
An hour later, the trio was weaving through the vibrant streets of Harajuku. Aizawa trailed behind the girls, his hands in his pockets as they darted in and out of shops. Rosie and Akira were ecstatic, piling up bags of clothes, accessories, and even a few gifts for friends.
Aizawa, despite his initial nonchalance, ended up carrying half their bags by the end of the trip. “You two have no self-control,” he muttered as they left yet another boutique.
“Shopping is a sport,” Akira teased, grinning at him.
Back at the apartment, they finally dropped their bags onto the floor with a collective sigh of relief. “I’m never carrying this much again,” Aizawa grumbled, rubbing his shoulder.
“You say that all the time” Rosie said, giving him a quick hug. “Thank you for buying.”
Aizawa waved her off. “I love you sunshine, stay safe.” He gave Akira a nod and headed for the door. “I’ll see you both later. Don’t stay up too late.”
“We won’t,” Rosie promised as he left.
Akira stretched and yawned. “I think I’m going to take a nap before tonight. I need energy if we’re going out with your friends.”
“Good idea,” Rosie said, picking up her phone. “I’ll go ahead and order food.”
“Perfect. Order pizza, our usual, and save me a few slices for when I wake up,” Akira mumbled as she disappeared into Rosie’s bedroom.
Rosie smiled and placed the order, settling onto the couch with Maya while she waited. Giggling to herself, she was happy to get to see Katsuki again, even if it was for a brief moment. Akira’s usual, a meat-lovers combo with extra cheese, and a classic margherita for herself. The app updated with a tracking number, and Rosie casually glanced at it every few minutes while Maya laid lazily in her lap.
Her heart did a little leap when she saw the delivery driver’s name: Bakugou Katsuki.
She leaned back against the couch but kept checking the map as his location inched closer to her apartment. By the time the app notified her that the driver was “almost there,” she was already standing by the door, barefoot, waiting.
Fixing her hair, she looked into the mirror once again. She had changed into some sweats and a t-shirt of his, a black one with a white skull.
The knock came, sharp and quick, and Rosie practically jumped to open it. When she did, there he was: Katsuki, dressed in the red and black uniform, his blond hair slightly tousled under the cap, and a stack of pizza boxes balanced effortlessly in one hand. His crimson eyes glinted with amusement as he caught her wide-eyed expression.
“You stalking the tracking or somethin’?” he teased, smirking.
“Maybe,” Rosie shot back, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe. “I didn’t want the pizza to get cold, Mr. Punctual.”
He stepped closer, towering just slightly over her as he handed her the boxes. “Yeah, wouldn’t want the princess’s precious lunch ruined.” His voice was low, the teasing edge making her stomach flutter.
Rosie rolled her eyes, a soft giggle escaping her. “Well, I appreciate the royal treatment, delivery boy.”
Katsuki arched an eyebrow at her tone, his smirk deepening. “Delivery boy? You’re real bold for someone who’s practically bouncing to answer the door.”
“I was not bouncing,” she protested, though her pink cheeks gave her away. “I just didn’t want you to ring the bell and wake Akira up.”
“Sure,” he said, clearly unconvinced. His gaze flicked down, catching the sweatpants and his t-shirt. “You always wear my shirt when I’m not around?”
“It’s comfy!” she said, a little too quickly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Plus you left it here so it’s mine now.”
Katsuki chuckled, his voice warm and gravelly. “Whatever you say, princess.”
She tilted her head at him, unconsciously leaning a bit closer as she balanced the pizzas in her hands. “You’re still standing here. Got another delivery, or are you just enjoying the view?”
His eyes narrowed playfully, and he reached out, tapping the top of the pizza box. “You’re lucky I like your face, Rosie, or I’d charge you for that comment.”
“Lucky me,” she replied, her voice soft and almost coy.
The tension hung for a moment before Katsuki stepped back, his hand brushing hers as he adjusted his cap. “Enjoy the pizza. And text me later, dumbass.”
“I might,” she said with a grin, “will I see you tonight at Silven’s?”
“Not like I have a choice,” he then turned and waved.
Rosie shut the door, leaning against it for a second as her heart raced. It wasn’t until Maya yipped at her feet that she snapped out of it, shaking her head and laughing softly. She carried the pizza to the kitchen, still feeling the warmth of his teasing words lingering in her chest.
Akira leaned casually against Rosie’s dresser, arms crossed, watching as her friend towel-dried her hair. Her gaze flickered to the wall of photos near Rosie’s bed, her smirk growing the longer she stared. “So,” she drawled, tilting her head. “Wanna tell me about the very handsome blonde guy all over your wall of photos?”
Rosie froze for a split second, her fingers stilling in her damp hair before she quickly recovered. “What? Oh—uh—he’s my best friend,” she said, voice a little too quick, a little too defensive. “His name is Katsuki Bakugou.”
Akira arched a perfectly shaped brow, her smirk deepening. “Oh?” she said, feigning innocence. “Just your best friend?”
Rosie nodded firmly. “Yes.”
Akira hummed, clearly unconvinced. “You sure? Because from where I’m standing…” She gestured around the room dramatically. “He has a lot of things here.”
Rosie’s face burned as she followed Akira’s gaze—Katsuki’s hoodie slung over her desk chair, a pair of his old sweatpants folded on top of her dresser, and a charger on the desk.
Akira grinned. “What kind of best friend leaves this much of their shit behind, huh?”
Rosie scowled. “It’s not like that! He just—he stays over sometimes, and he leaves things, and I don’t mind because we’re close!”
Akira let out a low chuckle, shaking her head. “Mm-hmm. And how often does he stay over?”
Rosie hesitated. “…occasionally.”
Akira’s smirk widened. “And do you sleep in the same bed?”
Rosie felt her stomach flip. But she lied, “No.”
Akira shook her head, clearly entertained. “You like him.”
“I do not.”
“Are you sure?” Akira’s smirk was knowing, teasing. “Because, girl, I’ve been here for two days, and you haven’t stopped texting him and sending him photos. Not to mention that you talked about him all on the train yesterday."
Rosie opened her mouth to argue—but then she hesitated.
Because, shit.
She had been texting him a lot, hadn’t she? Did she talk about him as well?
And not just about him, but about the things he did—the way he made her laugh, the way he always made sure she was taken care of, the way he touched her so easily, so casually—a hand on her waist, a flick to her forehead, an arm slung over her shoulders.
Her heart skipped.
Oh no.
Akira grinned, watching Rosie’s face slowly crumble in real time. “Ohhh, there it is. The realization.”
Rosie swallowed hard, her mind spinning.
Because now that she was really thinking about it… had she ever seen Katsuki with another girl? Had she ever thought about him with anyone else?
No.
“…Shit,” Rosie muttered under her breath.
Akira burst out laughing. “Took you long enough.”
Rosie stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the hem of her pink crop top. The soft material fit snugly, showing off just the right amount of skin to make her feel confident but not overly flashy. She paired it with the skinny leather jeans she’d picked up during their shopping trip earlier, the sleek black material hugging her legs perfectly. She slipped on her favorite pair of white sneakers to keep things casual.
“You look amazing,” Akira said from behind her, smoothing out the tight purple dress she had chosen. The dress was simple but stunning, hugging her curves and accentuating her figure. She turned slightly to check the back in the mirror, giving Rosie a playful smirk.
“And you’re going to have everyone’s attention tonight,” Rosie teased, laughing as she reached for her earrings.
“Good. You can be my wingwoman if anyone cute catches my eye.” Akira winked, applying a final coat of lip gloss.
Rosie snorted. “I’ll be too busy introducing you to everyone. They’ve been excited to meet you all week.”
“Then let’s not keep them waiting,” Akira said, grabbing her small purse. “You ready?”
Rosie took one last look in the mirror and nodded. “Let’s do this.”
The neon sign for Silven Realm glowed brightly in the cool evening air. Laughter and the faint sounds of arcade games spilled out as Rosie and Akira stepped through the entrance. Rosie led Akira upstairs to the second floor, where the bar, arcade games, and pool tables were.
“There they are,” Rosie said, spotting Katsuki, Shoto, Deku, and Kirishima near one of the pool tables. Katsuki was leaning casually against the table, his usual sharp expression softened slightly when his eyes caught Rosie’s.
“Alright, Akira, time to meet some of my favorites,” Rosie said, grabbing her friend’s hand and pulling her forward.
The group turned as the girls approached. Kirishima was the first to wave, his wide smile as welcoming as ever. “Rosie! And you must be Akira!”
Akira grinned, giving him a small wave. “That’s me. Nice to meet you guys.”
Kirishima laughed. “Nice to finally meet the person Rosie can’t stop talking about.”
Rosie groaned. “Eiji, don’t embarrass me already.”
Shoto stepped forward, his calm demeanor as cool as ever. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Shoto.”
“Same here,” Akira replied, giving him a polite nod.
Deku, ever the ball of energy, stepped up next, his green eyes bright with curiosity. “I’m Izuku! Rosie’s told us a lot about you. You two have known each other since forever, right?”
Akira nodded. “Pretty much. We’re practically sisters at this point.”
Finally, Katsuki pushed off the pool table, his hands shoved in his pockets as he gave Akira a quick once-over. “Katsuki,” he said simply, his tone neutral but not unfriendly.
Akira tilted her head, a mischievous smile forming on her lips. “Ah, the infamous Katsuki. Rosie’s mentioned you a lot.”
Katsuki arched a brow and glanced at Rosie, who flushed slightly and looked away. “Yeah? All good things, I’m sure,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Of course,” Akira replied with a playful smile, clearly enjoying the banter.
Rosie rolled her eyes and stepped between them. “Come on, Akira, let’s get some drinks. I’ll introduce you to the girls—they’re over by the bar. The others are probably scattered around here somewhere.”
They walked across the bustling second floor, weaving through groups of people chatting and playing games. As they approached the bar, Rosie spotted Mina, Momo, Jirou, Tsuyu, and Uraraka seated together, their laughter and animated conversation carrying over the noise of the room.
“Hey, ladies!” Rosie called out, catching their attention.
Mina turned first, her golden eyes lighting up when she saw them. “Rosie! And who’s this?” she asked, sliding off her barstool and striding over.
“This is Akira, my best friend from back home,” Rosie introduced, her voice full of pride.
Akira smiled warmly. “Nice to meet you all. Rosie’s told me so much about you.”
“You’re just as gorgeous as you are in your photos,” Mina teased, pulling Akira into a friendly hug before stepping back.
“Of course,” Akira laughed, clearly charmed by Mina’s energy.
Momo offered a polite smile as she stood, extending a hand. “I’m Momo Yaoyorozu. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Akira.”
“Same here,” Akira replied, shaking her hand.
Jirou gave a small wave from her seat, her usual reserved demeanor softened by a friendly grin. “Hey, I’m Jirou. Rosie’s been hyping you up for weeks.”
“Glad to know I’ve made a good impression without even being here,” Akira joked.
Tsuyu hopped off her stool, her wide eyes curious. “I’m Tsuyu Asui, but you can call me Tsu. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too, Tsu,” Akira said, her tone genuine.
Finally, Uraraka stood up, her cheeks slightly flushed, though it was unclear if it was from the alcohol or excitement. “Hi! I’m Ochaco Uraraka. You’ve got to tell us all the embarrassing stories about Rosie later.”
“Oh, I have plenty,” Akira said with a mischievous grin, earning a groan from Rosie.
“Traitor,” Rosie muttered under her breath, though she couldn’t help but smile.
The group chatted for a bit longer before Rosie led Akira across the room to meet the rest of the guys. Denki and Sero greeted her with their usual playful charm, while Iida gave a formal handshake and welcomed her to their gathering. Tokoyami and Shoji were equally welcoming, though they kept their introductions brief as they were more focused on keeping Mineta away from Akira and Rosie were salivating.
As the night progressed, the group found themselves scattered around the arcade. Rosie was chatting with Tsuyu, Tokoyami, and Shoji near a row of shooter games when she glanced across the room and froze.
Akira was standing by one of the pool tables, laughing at something Katsuki had said. Her smile was bright, and there was an unmistakable twinkle in her eye as she leaned slightly toward him. Katsuki leaned against the pool table, beer in hand as he smirked at her, but slightly bored.
A strange pang shot through Rosie’s chest—something hot and uncomfortable. Jealousy. She shook her head quickly, willing the feeling away. Don’t be stupid, she thought, forcing her attention back to Tsuyu, who was explaining the controls for the game.
Still, her mind kept drifting back to Akira and Katsuki. She clenched her fists briefly, exhaling a sharp breath. It’s nothing. Akira’s just friendly, and Katsuki’s... Katsuki. Nothing to worry about.
Wait.
Worry?
They were both attractive, looked great together so it made sense for them to be attracted to one another. She couldn’t blame him. Akira is gorgeous, with her long black hair, bright green eyes not to mention she was tall and had a perfect toned hourglass body.
Plus guys were never interested in her. They were always attracted to Akira. Effortlessly charming and flirtatious.
Determined to shake off the unease, Rosie grabbed one of the shooter game controllers and focused on the screen, her competitive side kicking in as she challenged Tokoyami and Shoji. But even as she laughed and played, the image of Katsuki and Akira together lingered in the back of her mind.
An hour later, Rosie found herself wandering the arcade floor, her steps slowing when her eyes landed on Akira and Katsuki at the bar. They were sitting side by side, drinks in hand, leaning slightly toward each other as they talked. Katsuki’s usual scowl had softened into something more relaxed, his eyes were amused, his lips turned into a smile and Akira’s laughter rang out, light and carefree.
Rosie’s chest tightened, a strange mix of emotions swirling inside her. She wasn’t sure if it was jealousy, confusion, or something else entirely, but it rooted her to the spot, her gaze fixed on them.
“Do you like Bakugou?”
The question made her startle, her head whipping around to see Shoto standing beside her, a beer in hand. His calm, unreadable expression gave away nothing, but his perceptive gaze seemed to cut right through her.
“What?” Rosie asked, her voice a little too high-pitched as she tried to recover from the surprise.
“Do you like Bakugou?” he repeated, his tone steady and unassuming, as if he were asking about the weather.
Rosie blinked, caught completely off guard. “He’s my best friend,” she said after a beat, the words tumbling out automatically.
Shoto tilted his head slightly, studying her. “I mean more than as a friend.”
“Oh,” Rosie said, blinking again as she tried to process the shift in the conversation. Her mind felt like it was scrambling for footing. “I don’t know… I don’t think so?”
Shoto’s brow lifted slightly, just enough to show he wasn’t convinced. “You hesitate every time you answer.”
Rosie frowned, the observation hitting a little too close to home. She opened her mouth to argue but couldn’t find the words. Instead, she glanced back at the bar where Katsuki and Akira were still deep in conversation.
“I think you like him,” Shoto said simply, taking a sip of his beer as if he’d just made an obvious statement of fact.
Rosie’s cheeks flushed, and she turned her head quickly, avoiding his gaze. “You’re reading too much into it,” she muttered, crossing her arms.
“Am I?” he asked, his tone calm but pointed. “You’ve been watching them for the past five minutes, and you haven’t even touched your drink.”
Rosie glanced down at the untouched soda in her hand, her grip tightening around the glass. She hated how easily Shoto could see through her, even when she wasn’t sure what she was feeling herself.
“Even if I did like him,” she said softly, more to herself than to him, “it wouldn’t matter.”
“Why not?” Shoto asked, his tone still as even as ever.
“Because he doesn’t see me that way,” Rosie admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “And Akira… she’s amazing. If he did like her, I wouldn’t blame him.”
Shoto frowned slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing just a fraction. “You’re selling yourself short,” he said after a moment. “Bakugou might be stubborn and blunt, but he’s not blind. You’re a gorgeous woman, everyone here knows it.”
Rosie looked up at him, surprised by the unexpected encouragement. “You think so?”
“I know so,” Shoto said with certainty, his gaze flicking briefly back to the bar.
Rosie followed his line of sight, her heart fluttering as she caught sight of Katsuki laughing at something Akira had said. It was such a rare expression on his face, one that softened the sharp lines of his features and made him seem almost carefree. For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to wonder what it would feel like to be the one drawing that laughter from him.
Before the thought could settle, Rosie shook her head and smiled at Shoto. “Would you like to play a game with me?”
Shoto raised a brow, intrigued. “What did you have in mind?”
“Axe throwing?” she suggested with a playful grin.
“I’m not sure that’s a game as much as a test of skill,” Shoto replied, his lips curving into a faint smile.
“I’m not any good at it,” Rosie laughed. “Can you teach me?”
Shoto inclined his head, the small smile lingering. “Of course.”
The pair made their way to the axe-throwing lane, where a wooden target loomed at the end of a narrow strip. Several of their classmates from 1A had gathered around the area, drawn by curiosity. Mina and Denki were already watching intently, and soon Kirishima and Jirou wandered over, adding to the growing audience.
Rosie picked up one of the axes, turning it over in her hands with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. “This feels heavier than I thought,” she admitted, biting her lip.
“That’s why you need to let your body guide the momentum,” Shoto explained, stepping closer. “Here, I’ll show you.”
Before she could react, Shoto moved behind her, his hands gently guiding her arms into position. His chest brushed her back lightly, and Rosie felt a slight heat rise to her cheeks as he adjusted her grip on the axe.
“Relax your shoulders,” Shoto instructed, his voice calm and even. “Keep your weight balanced. Now, when you throw, step forward with your dominant foot and use the motion to follow through.”
Rosie nodded, doing her best to focus on his instructions rather than how close he was. Taking a deep breath, she brought the axe back, stepped forward, and released it. The axe spun through the air and landed with a solid thunk, though it was slightly off-center.
The small crowd broke into cheers and applause. “Nice one, Rosie!” Mina shouted. “You almost hit the bullseye!”
“Not bad for a first try,” Shoto said, stepping back and giving her a small nod of approval.
Rosie turned to him, grinning. “Okay, I think I can do this.”
She tried again, and this time, her throw was much closer to the center. The cheers grew louder, and Rosie couldn’t help but laugh as Mina and Denki started chanting her name.
Unbeknownst to her, Katsuki had wandered over, his drink in hand as he stood off to the side, watching the scene with a sharp glare. His crimson eyes flicked between Shoto, who was offering Rosie another quiet piece of advice, and Rosie herself, whose laughter lit up her face as she turned to respond.
“Todoroki, get your hands off her!” Denki teased loudly, earning a laugh from Mina and a grin from Kirishima.
“Don’t give her ideas, Denki,” Jirou chimed in, smirking.
Shoto ignored the commentary, his focus on helping Rosie with her next throw. “This time, focus on your follow-through. Aim just above the bullseye.”
Rosie nodded, completely absorbed in the game and oblivious to the piercing gaze Katsuki had fixed on her and Shoto.
As she threw the axe again, this time hitting the bullseye dead on, the crowd erupted in cheers. Rosie turned to Shoto, her face glowing with pride. “Did you see that? I actually did it!”
“I saw,” Shoto said, his small smile returning. “You’re a fast learner.”
“Thanks!”
Suddenly everyone was clamoring to play, Rosie took that as an excuse to slip away and get herself a real drink. But before she could do that, she really needed to pee, she had nervously drank four sodas and needed to pee really badly.
She adjusted her crop top, brushing her hair back into place, and reapplied her lipgloss. Rosie stepped out of the bathroom, the soft hum of music from the bar fading as the hallway’s quiet enveloped her and prepared to head back when she froze. Katsuki was leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, his crimson eyes locked on her.
His presence was magnetic, and for a moment, she felt rooted to the spot. He looked... intense, the light casting sharp shadows on his face as he stared her down.
“Uh, hey,” she said awkwardly, her voice catching slightly as she took a cautious step forward.
“What the hell are you doing, Rosie?” Katsuki’s tone was low, not quite a growl, but close.
She blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”
He pushed off the wall, closing the distance between them in two steps. “Hanging around Icy Hot so much. What’s that about?”
Rosie stared at him, taken aback. His gaze bore into her, and she suddenly remembered a night not long ago—barely over a month, actually. Katsuki had saved her from a pushy drunk guy at another bar, stepping in with an authority and fierceness that had left no room for argument. She’d taken his hand afterward, barely glancing at his bloody hand and kissed the back of it, healing his cut.
Shaking the memory away, she frowned. “We’re friends, Katsuki. That’s all.”
“Friends?” He scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “Since when do you spend that much time hanging out with him?”
Her frown deepened. “It’s not like I’m avoiding anyone, Katsuki. He’s been nice, and I’ve been hanging out with whoever’s around.” She hesitated before adding, “And it’s not like you’ve been alone. You’ve been hanging out with Akira a lot.”
Katsuki’s jaw tightened, and he took a small step closer, his proximity making her heart race. “That’s different,” he muttered, his voice rough.
“Why is it different?” Rosie asked, folding her arms in an attempt to steady herself.
“You’re my—” He stopped short, his expression unreadable as he bit off whatever he was going to say. “You know what? Forget it.”
Rosie’s heart clenched at his hesitation. She wanted to press him, to ask him what he’d been about to say, but instead, she forced a smile, ignoring the ache creeping into her chest. “I’m happy you and Akira are getting along. You’re two of my best friends, so it’s nice to see.”
Katsuki’s eyes darkened, his frustration evident as he searched her face for something she wasn’t sure she could give him. “Yeah, whatever,” he muttered.
Without waiting for his response, Rosie stepped past him, her shoulder brushing his arm as she walked back toward the bar. She swallowed hard, the ache in her chest threatening to overwhelm her. Forcing herself to keep moving, she plastered on a smile as she slid into her seat next to Shoto, who greeted her with a small, questioning glance.
“Everything okay?” he asked, handing her the little ice sculpture he’d just made.
Rosie nodded, taking the sculpture and studying it as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. “Yeah, I just needed some air,” she said, her voice lighter than she felt.
But even as she laughed at Shoto’s next joke, her mind kept drifting back to the hallway, to Katsuki’s eyes, and the weight of the lie she’d told to protect herself from what she wasn’t ready to face.
Her earlier excitement to finally spend time with Katsuki was overwhelmed by the ugliness she felt.
Rosie tried to focus on the conversation at hand, but her laughter felt forced, her earlier excitement to spend time with Katsuki now dulled by the heaviness in her chest. The memory of his expression in the hallway—intense, almost vulnerable—lingered, gnawing at her.
Her smile faltered as she turned back to Shoto, who was mid-sentence about some class project. “Hey,” she interrupted softly, her voice tinged with exhaustion. “I think I’m starting to feel a bit off. I’m really tired, and I need to get home to feed Maya.”
Shoto stopped talking, his gaze softening. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she nodded quickly, though the lump in her throat betrayed her. “I just need some rest. I’ll grab a cab.” She started to reach for her phone, avoiding his eyes as guilt crept in.
Shoto frowned slightly, setting down his drink. “You don’t need to do that. I’ll take you home.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t ask you to—”
“It’s no trouble,” he interrupted gently, standing up and straightening his jacket. “I was planning on heading out soon anyway. I’ve got class tomorrow, and it’s on the way.”
Rosie hesitated, glancing at him. His calm, steady demeanor was reassuring, and the thought of leaving with someone she trusted eased her nerves. “Thank you,” she said quietly, offering a small, grateful smile.
“Let me walk you out.” Shoto gestured toward the exit, waiting for her to gather her bag and finish sending a quick text.
Rosie: Hey, I’m heading home to take care of Maya and crash for the night. Don’t worry about me—have fun! Text me when you’re heading back, and I’ll unlock the door.
She hit send and slipped her phone into her pocket, casting a final glance toward the bar. Katsuki was still there, leaning casually against the counter as Akira animatedly told a story. He wasn’t looking her way, but something about his posture felt tense. Shaking her head, Rosie followed Shoto out, swallowing the ache rising in her chest.
The night air was cool as they stepped outside, the city lights casting a soft glow on the streets. Shoto led her to his car and opened the door for her. “After you,” he said with a polite nod.
Rosie slid inside, Shoto getting behind the wheel.
“You sure you’re okay?” Shoto asked after a beat, his gaze searching hers.
“Yeah, just tired,” she replied, offering him a faint smile. “And maybe a little overwhelmed. It’s been a long day.”
He nodded, seeming to accept her answer, though his concern didn’t fully fade. “Maya will be happy to see you, I’m sure.”
Rosie chuckled softly. “She’s probably wondering where her dinner is by now.”
The rest of the ride passed in comfortable silence, and when they arrived at her building, Shoto walked her to the door.
“Thanks again,” Rosie said as she unlocked the door. “For the ride and for, you know, being so nice.”
“Anytime,” Shoto replied with a small smile. “Get some rest, okay? See you later.”
Rosie nodded absently, watching as Shoto disappeared down the hall before closing the door behind her. The moment she stepped inside, Maya greeted her with excited barks, hopping up on her hind legs in eager demand for attention. Rosie chuckled, bending down to scratch behind her ears.
"Alright, alright, I'm here," she murmured, the familiar warmth of her apartment offering a sense of comfort she hadn't realized she needed.
She went through the motions of her nightly routine—feeding Maya, removing her makeup, brushing her teeth—all while trying to ignore the tangled mess of emotions swirling in her chest. As she changed into an oversized t-shirt and slipped beneath the covers, her phone buzzed once. Then twice. Then a third time.
Akira: I would’ve come home with you.
Akira: Is something wrong? Or is your social battery just low?
Akira: I’m coming home.
Rosie sighed, running a hand over her face before typing out a response.
Rosie: Stay and have fun, I’m just really tired. I didn’t nap like you did haha, plus I needed to take care of Maya.
A moment later, her phone buzzed again.
Akira: Are you sure?
Rosie hesitated, staring at the message for a second longer than necessary before responding.
Rosie: Yes, so just have fun. I’ll see you when you get back.
Akira: Alright💕
Rosie exhaled, setting her phone down beside her. She should’ve felt relieved that Akira wasn’t pushing the issue, but instead, a strange emptiness settled in her chest.
She grabbed her phone again and absentmindedly opened Linked, scrolling through her camera roll for photos from tonight. The images sent through the group chat were full of laughter and energy—Akira beaming at the bar, Tsuyu flashing a peace sign, Kirishima and Denki arm-wrestling, Shoto forming little ice sculptures in his hand while she grinned beside him. Even a candid shot of Katsuki in his element, smirking at something someone said.
She hesitated on that one.
Her fingers hovered over the screen before she quickly added a few images to her post, captioned them without overthinking, and hit upload before she could talk herself out of it.
Then she tossed her phone onto the nightstand and turned onto her side, staring at the ceiling.
I feel so stupid.
She didn’t even know why.
Everything should’ve been fine. It was fine. The night had been fun, Akira is enjoying herself, and Rosie had left her with a good friend who genuinely cared about her well-being. She should be content. She should be able to roll over and fall asleep without feeling like there was a storm in her chest.
But her mind kept circling back to him.
To the way Katsuki had looked at her in the hallway, his gaze heavy with something she couldn’t quite place. To the way his jaw had tensed when he saw her with Shoto. To the way he had demanded to know why she was hanging around Shoto so much, as if it mattered to him.
Why did it matter to him?
And why did she feel like her chest had caved in when she lied and said she was happy he and Akira were getting along?
Rosie squeezed her eyes shut and exhaled, forcing herself to push the thoughts away. Overthinking wouldn’t change anything. Katsuki is her best friend—he had been since she met him. That was all there was to it.
So why did she suddenly feel like she was on the verge of falling into something she didn’t understand?
There was no way that she liked him more as a best friend. This wasn't jealously either, she just wasn't used to him paying attention and being nice to other girls. That is all there is to it. Nothing more and nothing less. She was being ridiculous. Rosie did not like Katsuki Bakugou anymore than as a a best friend.
Maya curled up beside her, pressing against her stomach with a content sigh. Rosie absentmindedly stroked her fur, using the rhythmic motion to ground herself.
Notes:
Nothing like being in denial, jealousy, and drama to make things interesting!
Chapter 22: so go fck urself
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Leaving the science building, Rosie adjusted the strap of her bag and stepped out into the crisp afternoon air, stretching her arms above her head with a sigh. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the quad as students milled about, some lingering on the grass, others heading toward their next class or off-campus.
She popped in her headphones and scrolled through her playlist, eventually settling on a song that matched her relaxed mood. As she hummed along, she reached into her pocket, pulling out her strawberry lip gloss and applying a fresh coat with practiced ease.
Chemistry had been painfully dull today. Their professor had droned on for what felt like an eternity, and rather than take notes, she had resorted to zoning out in the back row, music drowning out whatever lecture she was supposed to be absorbing. Not that it mattered—she’d catch up later if needed.
Cutting through the quad, Rosie made her way toward the street, weaving through groups of students chatting and laughing. As she reached the crosswalk, a familiar figure caught her eye just ahead of her—Shoto.
“Hey, Shoto!” she called, pulling her headphones down to rest around her neck.
Shoto glanced over his shoulder at her voice, pausing on the sidewalk. “Rosie,” he greeted, his expression as neutral as ever, though the corners of his lips twitched upwards.
She caught up to him just as the light changed, and they stepped onto the street together. “What are you up to?” she asked, glancing at him curiously.
“I’m meeting up with Tokoyami, Shoji, and some of the other guys,” he said, hands in his pockets. “We’re heading to an arcade for a few rounds of games.”
Rosie grinned. “Sounds fun. You planning on destroying them all, or are you giving them a fighting chance?”
Shoto considered this for a moment before replying, “I suppose I could let them win a few.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Very generous of you.”
He looked at her expectantly. “Would you like to come?”
Rosie bit her lip, tempted for a brief second, but shook her head. “Can’t. I’m heading home to get ready—Akira and I are going out dancing at Plum tonight.”
Shoto nodded in understanding. “The nightclub?”
“The famous nightclub,” she corrected with a playful smirk. “It’s gonna be packed, but we figured we’d let loose a little.”
“Sounds exhausting,” he commented, though there was no real judgment in his tone.
Rosie snorted. “That’s because you don’t dance. But yeah, it’ll be fun.”
They reached the other side of the street, where their paths would split. Shoto inclined his head slightly. “Enjoy your night.”
“You too,” she replied with a smile. “Don’t go too easy on them.”
He merely gave a small wave before heading off, and Rosie continued toward her apartment, already thinking about what she would wear for tonight.
The taxi sped through the glowing streets of the city, weaving between traffic as Rosie and Akira sat in the backseat, already buzzing with excitement. The neon lights of downtown Tokyo reflected in the windows, casting streaks of color over their skin as they giggled over their drinks from earlier, the energy of the night already thrumming through their veins.
Rosie adjusted the strap of her black mini dress, which clung to her curves and barely reached mid-thigh. The plunging neckline left little to the imagination, and her knee-high boots only added to the look. Akira, beside her, was equally stunning in a sleek, body-hugging black dress with a high slit, accentuating her toned legs. Her deep red lipstick and dark eye makeup made her look effortlessly sultry.
“You ready for a wild night?” Akira smirked, fluffing her curls as she eyed Rosie.
Rosie grinned, running a hand through her tousled waves. “I was born ready.”
The taxi slowed as they approached Plum, the famous nightclub known for its exclusive guest list and insane parties. A massive line of college students stretched down the block, people dressed to impress as they eagerly waited their turn. But Rosie and Akira weren’t worried.
Outside, beneath the glowing sign of the club, Kanako stood waiting for them, dressed in a sleek black two-piece outfit that showed off her toned stomach. She waved them over with a smirk, her confidence radiating even in the dim streetlights.
“You girlies took forever,” Kanako teased as they slid out of the taxi, stepping onto the pavement.
“We had to make sure we looked hot,” Akira shot back, striking a playful pose.
Kanako rolled her eyes but grinned. “Well, you succeeded.”
Rosie eyed the long line. “Please tell me we don’t have to wait in that.”
Kanako scoffed. “Of course not. You forget who you’re with.”
Kanako led them straight to the bar, maneuvering through the packed crowd like she owned the place—which, given her connections, she practically did. The pulsing bass vibrated through Rosie’s chest as they reached the sleek counter, neon lights casting deep blues and purples over their skin.
The bartender immediately noticed Kanako and smirked. “The usual?”
“Three rounds of shots,” Kanako confirmed, leaning against the bar with a wicked grin. “And make them strong.”
Rosie and Akira shared an excited look as the bartender lined up the small glasses, pouring clear liquid into each one before sliding them toward them.
“To a damn good night,” Kanako smirked, raising her glass.
“To us,” Akira added, winking.
Rosie clinked her shot against theirs, throwing it back in one swift motion. The vodka burned its way down her throat, leaving a warmth in her chest that only fueled the electricity already thrumming through her veins. Without missing a beat, Kanako signaled for the second round.
“Another,” Kanako grinned, handing Rosie and Akira their next shots.
By the time they finished, a light haze settled over Rosie’s mind, not enough to be drunk, but enough to let loose. She didn’t want to think about anything tonight—especially not about the way her stomach had twisted earlier that afternoon when she saw Akira and Katsuki texting, laughing over whatever conversation they had. The way her mind had felt foggy and restless ever since.
No.
She wasn’t thinking about that tonight.
Kanako grabbed her hand. “Come on, babes. Time to dance.”
The three of them weaved through the mass of bodies, the heat from the crowd mixing with the heady scent of alcohol and sweat. The music pounded, a deep, sensual beat that commanded movement. Rosie barely had time to adjust before she felt Akira press against her back, the two of them falling easily into the rhythm of the song.
Rosie let her body move with the music, her arms raised above her head as she and Akira swayed together, their hips grinding in sync. The bass thumped in her chest, reverberating through her bones. She felt free, electric, alive.
Kanako danced beside them, her movements effortless and confident, drawing attention from onlookers. But Rosie was too lost in the moment to care who was watching. The flashing neon lights cast shifting colors over their skin, making the whole room feel surreal.
Somewhere in the depths of her mind, she felt her phone vibrating against her thigh. She ignored it.
Then it buzzed again.
And again.
A flash of irritation sparked through her, but she refused to break the moment. She didn’t need to look at the screen to know who it was. Katsuki.
She swallowed hard, pushing down the part of her that wanted to answer, to hear his voice. But she couldn’t. Not tonight. Not when she felt weird. Not when she didn’t understand why she felt the way she did.
So instead, she threw her arms around Akira’s shoulders, pulling her closer as they laughed and kept moving, losing themselves in the music.
The drinks kept coming. Rosie wasn’t sure when exactly the night had shifted, when the soft buzz had turned into something heavier, something thick and syrupy in her veins, but she welcomed it. Every shot burned a little less, every sip of whatever fruity cocktail she had in her hand blurred the edges of her thoughts a little more.
She barely registered the guys who had bought them drinks, their faces were unimportant, just background noise to the rush of alcohol and music flooding her system. Akira and Kanako were laughing beside her, leaning into the easy charm of the strangers, but Rosie wasn’t listening. She was floating, light-headed and reckless, her mind a comfortable haze.
Her phone vibrated against her thigh—again. And again. And again.
She squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling sharply through her nose. She knew exactly who it was, and she refused to deal with it right now. Not when the alcohol sang in her blood, making her feel weightless, untouchable. Not when she was trying to forget the way her stomach had twisted earlier, the way her chest had ached at the sight of them.
“Come dance with me.”
The voice was deep, smooth. She blinked up at the guy who had been watching her all night, his dark eyes sharp and full of something smug, something knowing. She should say no. She should tell him to fuck off. But instead, she found herself nodding, her lips curving into a slow, lazy smile.
“Sure.”
His hand found hers as he led her toward the dance floor, his grip firm, confident. The music pulsed around them, thick and heady, wrapping around her like a fog. She let herself melt into the beat, into the sensation of the guy pressing up behind her, his hands settling on her waist.
Her mind was fuzzy, her body moving on instinct as she let him guide her, their hips rolling together in sync. His touch was bold, his fingers splaying against her stomach. And she let him.
Because the alcohol made everything feel good. Because her blood was thrumming, singing, begging her to let go.
Because if she let herself drown in this—this heat, this haze, this moment—then maybe she wouldn’t have to be stuck feeling like this anymore.
Rosie stumbled into the bathroom, gripping the sink to steady herself as the room tilted around her. The bass of the music still thumped in her chest, even from inside the dimly lit space. She barely registered the other girls fixing their makeup at the mirror, their laughter mixing with the distant pulse of the nightclub.
Her body felt hot—too hot. Flushed from the alcohol, the dancing, the heat of hands on her body that weren’t supposed to be there. She lifted her gaze to the mirror, blinking at her reflection. Her cheeks were bright pink, her lips swollen from biting them, her hair a little messy from the way she’d been throwing her head back to the music.
She looked… reckless.
Her phone vibrated again.
Rosie groaned, ready to ignore it—until she saw the name lighting up her screen.
Katsuki.
Her stomach twisted, the momentary fog in her brain clearing just enough for reality to creep back in. Her notifications were filled with his name, text after text after text.
Mr. Grumpy: Why the fuck are you not answering?
Mr. Grumpy: You were supposed to tell me when you went out again!
Mr. Grumpy: Answer me dammit!
Mr. Grumpy: You have been ignoring me all day!
Mr. Grumpy: Where are you?
Mr. Grumpy: You out?
Mr. Grumpy: Answer me, dumbass.
Mr. Grumpy: Why the fuck is Kanako posting vids of you dancing on some guy?
And then, the last one, sent just a minute ago—
Mr. Grumpy: Are you angry at me?
Mr. Grumpy: Please, pretty girl…answer me.
Mr. Grumpy: Rosie…
Her vision blurred slightly as she read the messages, heat prickling the back of her neck. Who the hell did he think he was? She wasn’t his responsibility. She didn’t owe him an answer. If he was so fucking concerned, maybe he should’ve thought about that before spending the entire night texting Akira yesterday instead of her.
Before she could stop herself, she clicked on the message thread and started typing. Or, well, trying to type. Her fingers felt clumsy, her thoughts spilling out faster than she could form coherent words.
Rosie: u kno wut? no. just no. u dnt get to do this. u dnt get to act lik u care when u wre busy w ur new best frnd allll day. im havin FUN. idc if u lik it or not. so go fck urself 💕💋
Satisfied, she hit send and let out a breathless, drunken laugh. Good. Let him deal with that.
Shoving her phone into the garter on her thigh, she grabbed her strawberry lip gloss, swiping it across her lips with more force than necessary. She smacked them together, staring herself down in the mirror.
“Perfect,” she mumbled, ignoring the way her hands were trembling.
Without another thought, she spun on her heel and stumbled back out into the club, ready to drown out whatever guilt was creeping in with more alcohol and music. Ignoring the pounding of her head, her dry mouth and her jelly-like limbs and the constant buzzing against her thigh that came from her phone.
Rosie returned to the bar, the flashing neon lights casting shifting colors over the crowd as the bass thrummed in her bones. Her head felt heavy, her limbs loose and warm from the alcohol coursing through her veins.
At the bar, Akira was tangled up with some guy, her fingers twisted in his hair as they kissed, lost in their own world. Kanako was still leaning into the guy from earlier, twirling a lock of her hair as she giggled at something he said.
And then there was him. The guy she had been dancing with. His arm was already around her waist before she even sat down, fingers pressing into the bare skin of her side. His grip was firm—possessive. She should’ve minded. She would’ve minded if she wasn’t so buzzed.
“Here, another round, ladies!” Kanako declared, sliding them each a shot.
Rosie barely thought before she threw it back, the liquor burning down her throat and settling like fire in her stomach. She exhaled sharply, slamming the glass down, a smirk playing on her lips.
The guy leaned in, lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “Let’s dance some more.”
She let him pull her onto the dance floor.
The club lights flickered in waves of blue, red, and violet, painting over the sea of bodies moving in sync with the heavy rhythm. Rosie let herself fall back into the music, pressing against the guy as they moved together, his hands running over her sides, her stomach, her hips.
It should’ve been fine. She wanted it to be fine.
But it wasn’t.
His hands didn’t feel right.
They were all over her, yet they weren’t his.
His touch wasn’t warm, it wasn’t electric—it didn’t set her skin ablaze the way Katsuki’s did.
It didn’t feel like the ghost of rough fingertips brushing over her wrist when he handed her something, or the casual weight of his palm on her lower back as he guided her through a crowded street.
It didn’t feel like him.
Rosie swallowed, her stomach twisting despite the alcohol numbing her edges. She forced herself to keep moving, her body responding even as her mind drifted elsewhere.
To Katsuki.
To the dozens of texts she had ignored.
To the sharp, heated way he always looked at her when he was mad.
To how mad he was probably right now.
And for some reason, she couldn’t stop thinking about the way her name had been the last thing he texted.
Simple.
Just Rosie.
Her head spun, and for the first time that night, she wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol or from the nagging ache settling deep in her chest.
Notes:
I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please let me know your thoughts and thank you for all the love and support!
Chapter 23: Then that makes me your boyfriend
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Never in his life had Katsuki felt this kind of rage—hot and suffocating, like a live wire sparking in his chest, setting every nerve on edge. His hands curled into fists as he hunched over, staring down at the screen of his phone, watching the same fucking video on loop.
Rosie.
Grinding on some asshole in the middle of the club.
She was drunk—obviously drunk—her face flushed, her body loose and fluid as she moved against him, her dress hugging every curve. The video was shaky, zoomed in, taken by Kanako.
All he could focus on was the way the guy’s hands were all over her. Touching her. Holding her by the waist, his fingers pressing into her skin like he had a fucking right.
Katsuki’s jaw clenched so hard it ached. His pulse thundered in his ears.
And fuck—he had been so happy when she answered the door in his shirt, smiling up at him like he was the best thing she had seen all day. Her pretty blue doe eyes staring up at him with a pretty blush on her cheeks.
Rosie hadn’t spoken to him since last night. Since she had left Silven’s without so much as a goodbye. Since she introduced her friend. Since she smiled up at Icy Hot like they had known each other forever.
But something changed.
Somewhere between the way she had looked at him then when he delivered her pizza and the way she avoided him all night at Silven’s and was now in some nightclub dancing with a fucking stranger and ignoring his texts and calls, something fucking changed.
And he had no idea what.
She had ignored his texts. His calls. And that—that—was what made his stomach twist into knots.
Because Rosie never ignored him.
If she was busy, she’d let him know. If she was in class, she’d sneak a text back. She always answered.
But not tonight. Not for him.
His grip on the phone was so tight it was a miracle he hadn’t shattered it. He had been at Kirishima’s place for guys’ night, sitting back, trying to relax for once—until his Linked notifications went off.
Kanako had posted a video.
He should’ve ignored it. Should’ve kept laughing at whatever dumbass thing Kaminari was saying.
But the second he saw her name, his gut dropped.
He had left.
Didn’t say a word to the guys, just grabbed his keys and drove home, fists gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles burned. He couldn’t be around anyone, not when all he wanted to do was put his fist through the fucking wall.
Now, he was sitting in his dark apartment, his thoughts a mess of fury and confusion as he stared down at his phone.
His messages to her sat unanswered.
Katsuki: Please, pretty girl… answer me.
Katsuki: Rosie…
The silence was deafening.
Then—his phone buzzed.
His breath caught, his heart slamming against his ribs as her name flashed across the screen.
Pretty Girl: u kno wut? no. just no. u dnt get to do this. u dnt get to act lik u care when u wre busy w ur new best frnd allll day. im havin FUN. idc if u lik it or not. so go fck urself 💕💋
He stared at the text, unmoving, as his brain tried to process what the fuck she was saying.
What the hell was she talking about?
He did care. He always cared. Hadn’t she fucking noticed by now?
His fingers flew across the screen.
Katsuki: Where the hell are you? And what are you talking about?
No response. He waited. A minute passed. Then another. Then five.
Nothing.
“Fuck,” he hissed, raking his hand through his hair before dialing Akira.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
He slammed his phone down onto the coffee table, his entire body vibrating with frustration.
His mind kept playing the video over and over. That guy’s hands on her. The way she let him touch her.
Katsuki felt something dark and ugly claw at his chest.
She was drunk. She didn’t know what she was doing. She wouldn’t be doing this if she was thinking straight. Would she?
His stomach churned.
The video’s background gave everything away. Plum.
That fancy fucking nightclub Rosie always talked about. The one she and Kanako went to sometimes.
His blood ran hot as he grabbed his keys.
If she wouldn’t answer him, he’d go find her himself.
Katsuki stormed through the club, his pulse hammering in his ears as the heavy bass vibrated through his chest. The air was thick with sweat, alcohol, and the kind of reckless energy that made his skin crawl.
This was the second time he had come to hunt her down in a damn nightclub, and it pissed him off more than he could put into words.
His sharp red gaze scanned the sea of bodies writhing under neon lights, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. People were in his way—laughing, drinking, moving too slow for his liking.
A group of guys stepped into his path, one of them drunkenly bumping into him.
“Hey, man, watch it—”
“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY,” Katsuki snarled, shoving past them with enough force that one of them nearly stumbled. His patience was nonexistent. He wasn’t here to play nice.
His eyes flickered to the VIP booths lining the walls, searching for any familiar face. That’s when he spotted her.
Kanako, curled up in a booth, half in some random guy’s lap, her arms draped around his neck as they sloppily made out.
Katsuki didn’t give a damn about politeness. He stormed up to the table, slamming a fist down onto it, causing the drinks to rattle.
Kanako startled, pulling away from the guy with an annoyed huff. “What the hell—”
“Where the fuck is Rosie?” he demanded, his voice sharp and unwavering.
Kanako blinked up at him, her lips swollen and glossy. “Jesus, Bakugou, calm down.” She rolled her eyes, leaning back against the booth. “Akira already left with some guy about thirty minutes ago.”
His scowl deepened. That wasn’t who he was asking about.
“I don't give a fuck where she is at! Rosie! I want to know where she is.” he ground out.
Kanako grinned, tilting her head toward the packed dance floor. “Out there somewhere, getting cozy with some guy.”
His blood ran ice cold.
Without another word, he turned on his heel, shoving past more people as he made his way to the dance floor. The pulsing strobe lights made it harder to see, but his eyes swept across the room, scanning the crowd with laser focus. The moment he spotted her, everything else blurred into white noise.
Rosie.
The guy behind her had his hands gripping her waist, fingers pressing against the fabric of her dress as she moved against him. Her head was tipped back, her glossy lips parted, lost in the haze of alcohol and music.
Katsuki saw red.
He stalked forward, his entire body coiled with tension. The second he was close enough, his voice cut through the pounding music like a blade.
“Get your hands off of her.”
The guy barely glanced over, looking Katsuki up and down with an unimpressed smirk. “And why the hell would I do that?”
Before Katsuki could respond—before he could tear this bastard apart—Rosie suddenly twisted in the guy’s grip, slipping free from his hands like she had just realized where she really wanted to be.
She turned, her bleary eyes locking onto Katsuki’s, and without hesitation, she stumbled forward—straight into his arms. His hands caught her instantly, strong and steady, wrapping around her waist as she sagged against him. She smelled like strawberries and alcohol, her breath warm against his collarbone.
Katsuki barely had time to process the relief that hit him like a punch to the gut before she whispered, voice soft and slurred—“You’re handsome.”
Drunk Rosie is in full swing.
Then, as if the realization suddenly hit her, her brows furrowed, and she blinked blearily up at him. Her drunken haze didn’t stop the way her expression twisted, confusion melting into something sharper. Hurt.
“Oh…” Her voice wavered. “It’s you.”
Her hands pushed against his chest, clumsy and weak, but determined. She stumbled back a little, nearly losing her balance again. “You—You shouldn’t be here,” she said, glaring at him through her haze of alcohol and emotion.
Katsuki frowned. “The hell are you talking about?”
“You—!” She jabbed a finger at his chest, her lips trembling. “You ignore me and now you show up here?! Acting like you care?” Her voice cracked, and she let out a humorless laugh. “That’s bullshit, Katsuki.”
She is drunk. Upset. Mad at him. And fuck, it hurt more than he wanted to admit.
Before he could say anything, the guy she’d been dancing with earlier suddenly grabbed her by the arm, tugging her back toward him.
“She’s had enough, man,” the guy said, his tone edged with irritation. “You should go.”
Rosie’s face twisted in disgust, and she immediately tried to pull away. “Get your hands off me,” she snapped. “I don’t want you touching me either.”
But the guy didn’t let go. If anything, his grip tightened.
Katsuki saw red.
Before Rosie could react, the asshole’s hand crushed around her wrist. She winced, letting out a small yelp of pain—And that was it.
Katsuki moved before he could think, his fist colliding with the guy’s face in a brutal, sickening crack. The impact sent him stumbling back, clutching his jaw with a groan of pain.
“Get out of here before I fucking kill you, bastard,” Katsuki growled, his voice deadly.
The guy barely hesitated before disappearing into the crowd, hands still clutching his face.
Rosie swayed on her feet, dazed, before her knees buckled entirely. Katsuki didn’t hesitate. With a frustrated sigh, he bent down, hooked an arm under her legs, and effortlessly lifted her against his chest with just one arm. She instinctively clung to him, her arms winding around his neck.
She let out a little giggle, her warm breath tickling his neck as she snuggled closer, completely unbothered by the way he was manhandling her.
“Mmm, you’re so strong,” she murmured, her words slow and syrupy with intoxication.
“Tch. No shit,” Katsuki muttered, adjusting his grip as he pushed through the crowded dance floor.
Rosie gasped dramatically, her fingers diving into his hair. “Oh my god,” she breathed, tangling her fingers in the messy blond strands. “It’s so soft.”
Katsuki grunted, barely dodging a stumbling drunk as he made his way toward the exit. “Oi—quit that.”
She ignored him entirely, her hands drifting through his hair, her touch warm and slow. “You smell really good too,” she sighed dreamily, her lips brushing against his jaw as she buried her face into his neck. “Like caramel… and smoke.”
His jaw tightened. The last thing he needed was to get flustered while hauling her drunk ass out of the club. “Be a good girl and keep quiet,” he muttered, stepping outside where the cool night air hit them.
But she only hummed in response, lazily playing with the strands of his hair as he carried her toward his car. “You’re so handsome,” she whispered, staring at his face like he was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen.
Katsuki sighed, his grip on her tightening slightly. “You’re so fucking drunk.”
She giggled, twirling a lock of his hair between her fingers. “But you are.”
Katsuki didn’t dignify that with an answer. He reached his car, opened the door, and carefully set her down in the passenger seat. The moment he tried to pull away, she clung to his shirt, pouting up at him. He groaned. “You’re gonna be the death of me, woman.”
“Stay,” she whined softly.
“Dumbass, I’m just getting in the driver’s seat.” He peeled her fingers off and shut the door before she could protest.
By the time he pulled up to her apartment, she was still slumped in the passenger seat, her head lolling against the window. Katsuki sighed, running a hand through his hair before getting out and moving around to her side.
When he opened the door, she blinked up at him with hazy, half-lidded eyes. “Hi,” she whispered.
He rolled his eyes. “C’mon, pretty girl.”
She barely had time to react before he was lifting her again, one arm under her knees. She let out a soft, content sigh, her arms automatically wrapping around his neck as he carried her inside, with her heels in his other hand, through the lobby, into the elevator and down the hall.
The apartment was quiet, save for the soft jingle of Maya’s collar as the little dog stirred from her spot on the couch. Katsuki made his way through the familiar space, moving toward Rosie’s bedroom.
Her fingers twirled his hair lazily as she stared up at him with wide, dazed eyes. “Katsukiii…”
“Mm?”
“You’re so warm…”
He swallowed, trying to ignore the way his stomach twisted at the way she said his name. “That’s ‘cause you’re drunk and freezing.”
She hummed again, nuzzling against his shoulder as he stepped into her room. Carefully, he lowered her onto the bed, but the second he tried to pull away, her grip on his neck tightened.
He froze.
“Are you my boyfriend?” she whimpered, her voice small and unsure.
Did she already forget what happened in the club? She must still be drunk and most likely won’t remember this in the morning.
Katsuki inhaled sharply, his hands still resting on her thighs, his fingers twitching against the warmth of her skin. He could feel her heartbeat against his chest, rapid and uneven, mirroring the way his own pulse thundered beneath his skin.
He swallowed hard, his voice rough when he finally answered.
“I want to be.”
For a moment, Rosie just blinked at him, her drunken haze making it hard to process his words. And then, like the sun breaking through the clouds, she brightened—her entire face lighting up with a giddy smile as she clapped her hands together.
“My first boyfriend,” she whispered in wonder, as if the words themselves were something sacred.
Katsuki let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, shaking his head as he crouched down to remove her heels. He pulled them off gently, setting them aside before standing up and striding over to her closet. He knew exactly where to go—because of course he did. His missing shirts always ended up here.
Grabbing one of the oversized black T-shirts she’d stolen from him, he tossed it in her direction. “Put this on.”
Rosie caught the fabric, fisting it in her hands before tilting her head, a slow, coy smile stretching across her lips. “You’re not going to help me change?”
Katsuki went rigid, his throat going dry as she watched him with half-lidded eyes, her lip caught between her teeth.
“You threw up on yourself earlier,” he lied smoothly, crossing his arms as he forced himself to maintain eye contact. “Do you really want me to?”
Her eyes widened in horror. “I did not.”
“You did,” he deadpanned.
Rosie let out a scandalized gasp, clutching the shirt to her chest as she scrambled toward the bathroom.
Katsuki huffed out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he turned toward the kitchen. Moving through her apartment was second nature by now—he knew exactly where she kept everything. Within minutes, he had a glass of water and some pain meds, placing them on her bedside table along with her phone before shrugging off his jacket and tossing it over a chair.
The sound of the bathroom door creaking open made him glance up. Rosie padded out, rubbing her eye with one hand while the other clutched her phone. She had changed into his shirt, the oversized fabric swallowing her small frame, the hem skimming the tops of her thighs.
“You’re staying, right?” she mumbled, blinking sleepily at him.
Katsuki exhaled slowly. He should leave. He knew that. But the way she was looking at him—half-asleep, warm and vulnerable—made it impossible.
“Yeah,” he murmured.
Rosie didn’t hesitate. She climbed into bed, burrowing beneath the covers before sleepily reaching for him. Katsuki sighed, but he didn’t fight it. He slid in beside her, and the second he did, she curled into his side, her body fitting perfectly against his. His arm instinctively wrapped around her, holding her close as her warmth seeped into him.
For a few minutes, the room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the city outside. Katsuki thought she had already drifted off when her voice, small and slurred with exhaustion, broke the silence.
“Why have you been avoiding me?” Katsuki asked, his fingers twitching against her hip.
“You like Akira,” she mumbled, already half-asleep, her breath warm against his chest. “I got jealous since you’ve been hanging out with Akira.”
His mind blanked.
For a second, all he could do was stare at her, his heart hammering against his ribs.
She got jealous?
Katsuki clenched his jaw, exhaling harshly through his nose.
“Dumbass,” he muttered under his breath, pressing his face into her hair. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”
But Rosie had already drifted off, breathing even and peaceful against him.
Katsuki sighed, tightening his grip around her. He didn’t care if she didn’t remember this in the morning. Because he would and they were going to have a serious talk in the morning.
Katsuki woke up to sunlight piercing through the blinds, warming his face. But that wasn’t the only warmth he felt. A familiar weight was draped across his chest, soft and solid, rising and falling with each deep breath. Rosie.
She was still asleep, curled up against him, her arm slung over his torso and her face tucked into the crook of his neck. Her grip on him was firm, fingers loosely fisting his shirt as if even in sleep, she refused to let him go.
He sighed, staring at the ceiling. She’s going to want coffee when she wakes up.
Easier said than done. It took him five whole minutes to pry himself from her grasp, and even then, she made it difficult—murmuring sleepily, brows furrowing as she instinctively reached for him. Katsuki clenched his jaw, hesitating for a moment before carefully tucking a pillow in his place.
She immediately clung to it. Shaking his head, he pushed himself off the bed, raking a hand through his hair before making his way to the kitchen.
The apartment was quiet as he worked, the familiar routine of brewing her coffee grounding him. He knew exactly how she liked it—hot, a splash of cream, two sugars. By the time it was done, the rich aroma filled the space, and he heard the shuffle of blankets from the bedroom.
A minute later, Rosie padded into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Her hair was a mess, her expression groggy, and when her gaze landed on him, she grimaced.
Katsuki smirked. “Sleeping Beauty is awake.”
She groaned, voice hoarse. “Katsuki…”
“I made you coffee.”
Her eyes flickered to the steaming mug in his hand, her body visibly relaxing at the sight of it. “Thank you.”
“You can drink it while we talk.” He grabbed his own mug and made his way to the living room, not bothering to look back as he heard her sigh and shuffle after him.
She sat down on the opposite end of the couch, tucking her legs beneath her as she blew on her coffee.
Katsuki leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “So why the hell have you been avoiding and ignoring me?”
Rosie’s grip tightened around the mug, her shoulders tensing before she finally sighs. Avoiding his stare, she focused on her coffee.“I didn’t want to come in between Akira and you.”
Katsuki blinked. “What?”
She kept her gaze fixed on the swirling liquid in her cup. “You’re both my best friends, and it seems like you two have really hit it off with one another.” Her voice was quiet, uncertain.
Katsuki just stared at her, waiting for her to say she was joking.
She didn’t.
Instead, she slowly sipped her coffee, oblivious to the sheer disbelief plastered across his face. Finally, after a long, stunned silence, he set his mug down with a clink and exhaled through his nose.
“You’re such a dumbass.”
Rosie’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing into a glare. “Katsuki.”
“No, seriously,” he continued, his tone flat, as he leaned back against the couch, folding his arms across his chest. “Where the hell did you even get that idea?”
She huffed, looking away. “You and Akira were texting all day, and then you two were always together at Silven’s talkin—”
“We swapped memes, Rosie.” He deadpanned. “Memes.”
Her face scrunched up, pouting.“You never send me memes.”
“Because I talk to you.” He ran a hand down his face, groaning. “What the fuck made you think I’d ever be into Akira?”
Rosie stared at him, her fingers curled tightly around her coffee cup as if it could somehow anchor her to reality. Katsuki sat across from her, looking far too smug, like he had just won some sort of victory.
He watched her, lips curling into a lazy smirk. "What? Cat got your tongue?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Shut up."
His grin only widened. "Nah, I think you should say it again. Out loud. Tell me how you thought I was into Akira."
Rosie groaned, grabbing the nearest throw pillow and whacking him across the chest. "Because she is a gorgeous woman that seems like your type."
Katsuki let out a surprised huff before laughing—actually laughing—as she hit him again, and again.
"Yeah, yeah, get it all out, dumbass," he snickered, blocking half her attempts but making no real effort to stop her.
"You are a dumbass," she muttered, giving him one last hit before dropping the pillow back onto the couch.
Katsuki was still grinning, his eyes bright with amusement. That smug expression was going to be the death of her. "You done?" he teased.
She crossed her arms with a huff. "For now."
Katsuki rolled his eyes, and before she could react, he lunged. With a startled yelp, Rosie found herself suddenly flipped onto her back, the air leaving her lungs as Katsuki pinned her against the couch. One of his hands braced against the cushion beside her head, while the other firmly held her wrist down. His weight was solid above her, warm and undeniable.
She blinked up at him, her breath caught in her throat.
"You're such a pain in the ass," he muttered, looking down at her with a smirk.
Rosie scowled, squirming beneath him. "You flipped me."
"Yeah, and what the hell are you gonna do about it?" His grip tightened, his tone turning softer—more serious. "Gonna run away again, huh? Ignore me like a coward?"
Rosie clenched her jaw, trying to look anywhere but his eyes.
But Katsuki wasn’t having that. His free hand moved, fingers gripping her chin, tilting her face back toward him. His gaze burned into hers, unwavering.
"It’s always been you, Rosie," he said, voice low and firm. "You wanna know my type? You.”
Her lips parted, her breath shaky.
"You," he repeated, thumb brushing along her jaw. "With your loud-ass mouth, and your dumb jokes, and your stupid strawberry lip gloss that I can smell right now."
Rosie swallowed hard, her pulse hammering against her ribs.
"And you know what pisses me off the most?" Katsuki leaned in closer, his lips barely a breath away from hers. "That you actually thought for a second that I could want anyone else. That you really believed I could ever look at anyone the way I look at you."
She shivered, heat curling in her stomach. "Katsuki…" she breathed.
His grip on her wrist loosened, and for a moment, he just stared at her. His crimson eyes were burning, intense—full of something raw and undeniable.
Then, in the softest, roughest voice, he muttered, "Say you get it now.”
Rosie exhaled shakily, her heart lodged in her throat. "...I get it."
His smirk returned, slow and victorious. "Damn right, you do."
Then, finally, he let her go. Rosie sat up, her face still flushed, heart thudding wildly against her ribs. “So… what now?” she asked, voice smaller than she intended.
Katsuki blinked at her like she was an idiot. “You’re the one who keeps asking me to be your boyfriend.”
Her mind blanked. “What—?”
His smirk was slow and smug, knowing. “Yeah. You’ve asked me twice now—each time when you were drunk.”
Rosie felt every ounce of blood rush to her face. “I—No, I didn’t!” she spluttered, scrambling to stand, only for her legs to betray her.
With a yelp, she tripped over her own feet, tumbling straight onto the floor with an unceremonious thud. She groaned, mortified, face smushed against the carpet as the shirt she wore rode up slightly, flashing him her panties.
Katsuki looked away, running a hand down his face as if he was physically restraining himself. “For fuck’s sake.”
She groaned louder, kicking her feet like a child throwing a tantrum. “I’m never drinking again.”
He sighed before moving, crouching down next to her. “C’mon, idiot.”
Before she could protest, his fingers found her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. Rosie froze. His crimson eyes bore into hers, intense and unwavering.
“You’re mine,” he said, voice low, firm. “And I’m yours. Got it?”
Her breath caught in her throat.
“So…” She swallowed thickly. “So you’re my boyfriend?”
His grip on her chin tightened just slightly, his thumb brushing against her jaw. “Do you like me more than as a best friend?”
Her face turned impossibly redder. She bit her lip, nodding once. “…Yes.”
Katsuki smirked, the corner of his mouth tilting up, and his voice dropped into something rough, something almost teasing. “Then that makes me your boyfriend.”
Rosie’s breath hitched, her fingers curling against the floor beneath her.
His smirk widened, watching her squirm. “Say it.”
Her lips parted, but nothing came out at first. She licked them nervously, eyes flickering down to his mouth before snapping back up to his. “…You’re my boyfriend.”
The moment the words left her lips, Katsuki leaned in, his breath warm against her skin. “Indeed, pretty girl.”
Rosie’s face only grew redder, her hands fidgeting in her lap as she tried to avoid his gaze. He tilted his head, watching her squirm with a smirk. Just as he leaned forward, intent on capturing her lips, her phone blared to life from where she had left it on the coffee table.
Rosie nearly jumped out of her skin.
Katsuki groaned, exhaling through his nose. “Go answer it,” he muttered, leaning back against the couch.
She scrambled up with an apologetic look before disappearing into her bedroom to take the call. Katsuki ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head with an amused chuckle. Figures.
A few minutes later, Rosie reappeared, tucking her phone into her pocket.
“It was Akira,” she said, brushing her hair behind her ear. “She said she’d be home in about an hour.”
Katsuki stretched his arms over the back of the couch. “Guess I’ll head out soon, then.”
Her lips parted slightly before she hesitated, shifting on her feet. “…Can you stay?” Her voice was quieter this time. “Just for a bit?”
Katsuki’s brows raised, before he stared at her with soft eyes. “Yeah,” he muttered, patting the space beside him. “I can stay.”
Rosie let out a breath, moving toward him before hesitating again. She fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “I, um… I don’t really know how to act,” she admitted. “I’ve never had a boyfriend before.”
Katsuki snorted. “Yeah, well… I’ve never had a girlfriend before either.”
Her eyes widened. “Wait—really?”
He gave her a dry look. “Why the hell do you sound so shocked?”
“I dunno,” she admitted sheepishly. “You’re you.”
“And? You’re gorgeous.” Katsuki stated
Rosie blinked, then smiled, “should I have dated someone else prior then?”
“Tch, no.” He rolled his eyes, then smirked. “Tell you what—I’ll stay…” He leaned forward slightly. “If you come to my show tonight.”
Her brows furrowed. “Show?”
Katsuki grinned. “Yeah. I’m in a band. I play drums.”
Rosie’s jaw dropped. “What?!” She practically bounced onto the couch, grabbing his arm. “You never told me that!”
He chuckled at her excitement. “Wasn’t exactly hiding it, dumbass.”
“Well, you never mentioned it either!” she shot back. “Are you guys, like, a real band? With gigs and everything?”
Katsuki shrugged. “It’s not a consistent thing. We just play whenever a venue asks us to.”
Rosie’s eyes sparkled. “What kind of place is it?”
“Underground venue,” he replied, draping an arm over the back of the couch. “Not super big, but it’s got a solid crowd.”
“I’d love to come!” she grinned.
He smirked, pleased. “Good.”
Without thinking, Rosie climbed onto the couch, shifting so she could sit between his legs, her back pressing against his chest. His arms naturally wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer as he buried his face into her hair.
She hummed contently, letting herself sink into him. “I still can’t believe you’re in a band.”
He snorted. “Yeah, well, now you know.”
She twisted her head slightly to glance at him. “Do you sing?”
Katsuki scoffed. “Hell no.”
Rosie giggled. “Damn. I was hoping I’d get to hear you sing.”
“Not happening, pretty girl.” Katsuki smirked, tightening his arms around her slightly. “But you will get to see me play.”
“I can’t wait then.” She sighed happily, settling against his chest.
For a moment, everything is perfect. She is finally his, curled up in his arms, warm and content. His heart felt full in a way he hadn’t expected, and he let himself soak in the moment, enjoying the quiet realization that he was actually happy.
Then it hit him.
Fuck.
His entire body stiffened.
Rosie’s dad is Shouta Aizawa. Eraserhead. The same man who had effortlessly put the fear of God into every single student at U.A. The man who could erase his Quirk with a single glance, binding him up in capture weapon cloth before he could even blink.
And now, Katsuki is dating his daughter.
A slow, creeping dread coiled in his stomach.
Keh. It’s fine. It’s not like he’s gonna kill me. He’s a pro hero. He wouldn’t actuall—
His mind immediately supplied an image of Aizawa, standing in the doorway of their classroom, eyes glowing red, voice low and dangerous as he announced the last time someone pissed him off: “You’ll wish you were dead.”
Katsuki swallowed thickly.
Yeah. He is so fucked.
“Hey,” Rosie’s voice pulled him from his spiraling thoughts. She had turned slightly in his arms, peering up at him with a small frown. “What’s wrong?”
Katsuki hesitated, debating whether to tell her, before exhaling sharply.
“…How the hell are we supposed to tell your dad?”
Rosie blinked. Then she stiffened.
She sat up properly, pulling away just enough to turn and face him. “We could just…” She trailed off, biting her lip.
Katsuki narrowed his eyes. “We could just what?”
Don’t say breakup.
“…Should we keep it a secret?”
He blinked, his heart skipping a beat. “You wanna keep our relationship a secret?”
Rosie flushed, shaking her head quickly. “Not forever! Just… for now,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck. “We can keep it between us while we figure things out, you know? While we… get used to this and figure things out between us.”
Katsuki studied her for a moment, watching the way her fingers fidgeted against the hem of her shirt. He didn’t love the idea of sneaking around like some shady bastard. Rosie deserved much better than to be hidden like some dirty little secret. But at the same time…
Did he really want to face Aizawa right now?
Hell no.
"This is a good idea,” he muttered. “We’ll keep it between us."
Rosie exhaled in relief, her shoulders sagging slightly. “Thanks.”
Katsuki crossed his arms, smirking. “What, you're scared of your old man or somethin’?”
She glared at him. “Please, he would merely lecture me for attempting to date you.” Then she blinked at him with a smirk, “You’re the one who was just freaking out about telling him.”
“Tch. I wasn’t freaking out,” he grumbled. “I was being strategic. There’s a difference.”
Rosie giggled, rolling her eyes. “Right. Strategic.”
Katsuki sighed, running a hand through his hair. This is gonna be a pain in the ass. But at least now, he didn’t have to worry about Aizawa sending his ass to an early grave.
Notes:
sooo they're dating now...but that is the easy part lol
Chapter 24: Is this what it means to like a boy?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki had only been her boyfriend for twenty minutes, and he already couldn’t keep his hands off her. Not that she minded. She secretly liked how touchy he was—liked how his hands felt on her, grounding and warm.
He exhaled softly against her neck, smirking when she squirmed in his arms.
“Katsuki,” she protested, stifling a giggle. “That tickles.”
“Oh, does it?” He did it again, this time pressing his nose to the sensitive skin just below her ear.
She let out a small, breathless laugh, squirming even more. “Yes! Stop it!”
But she wasn’t actually trying to get away.
Katsuki sighed dramatically, finally relenting. “Fine.”
She shook her head, amused, but then her eyes flickered to the clock on the wall, and her expression sobered slightly. “Akira will be here soon,” she murmured. “You must go.”
Katsuki groaned but stood up, grabbing his hoodie and phone. “Yeah, yeah.”
She trailed after him as he made his way to the door, arms folded behind her back, watching him with an amused glint in her eyes.
He caught the coy look on her face as he pulled on his hoodie, and he raised a brow. “What’s with that look?”
Rosie just smiled.
Katsuki narrowed his eyes playfully. “You better text me later.”
“I will,” she promised.
He hummed, slipping his shoes on. “Tch. Is this the thanks I get for takin’ care of you last night?”
Rosie tilted her head, her smile turning mischievous. “No…” she stepped closer, standing on her toes to brush a soft kiss against the side of his mouth. “This is your thanks.”
Before he could react, she slipped back inside and shut the door in his face.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then— A low, frustrated groan from the other side of the door.
Rosie clamped a hand over her mouth, suppressing her giggles as she listened to his footsteps retreat down the hall. Still smiling, she spun on her heel, heading straight for the bathroom.
She had a lot to do today.
After a quick shower, she threw on her uniform and rushed to Ishlamare for her shift.
The steady hum of the espresso machine filled the air as Rosie worked behind the counter, her hands moving automatically as she prepared an order. Across from her, Shinso leaned lazily against the counter, sipping his own coffee while Kanako slumped over a barstool, her head buried in her folded arms.
“How was your night?” Shinso asked, his voice tinged with amusement as he flicked a glance toward Kanako, whose only response was a low groan.
Rosie exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. “I don’t remember a single minute of it.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie. The night was a blur, but the pieces she did remember? Those were all tied to Katsuki. His touch, his smirk, his arms wrapped around her, the way he had looked at her—
She shook the thoughts away, focusing instead on Shinso. “What about you? How’d the car buying go?”
His lips curled into a small, satisfied smirk. “Went great. Got my new ride, and I’m pretty damn happy with it.” He took another sip of his coffee, then set it down, tilting his head slightly. “You free later tonight? I was thinking we could hit up an underground show.”
Rosie perked up. “Oh, I was already going! My friends are playing, so I was gonna go support them. We can hang out during the show.”
Shinso blinked, caught off guard for a second. “…Yeah. Sounds good.”
Before he could say anything else, the bell above the door jingled, and Akira strolled in.
Well, strolled might’ve been an overstatement. She moved sluggishly, her sunglasses obscuring her face, dressed in sweatpants and a crop top. It was the most un-Akira thing Rosie had ever seen.
Rosie raised a brow. “And how was your night?”
Akira groaned dramatically, rubbing her temple. “I have no idea. But I know I need coffee. Immediately.”
Rosie snorted, already reaching for a cup. “I’m taking my break,” she told Shinso before walking out from behind the counter. “Shinso can make your order.”
She had a feeling she and Akira had a lot to talk about.
Especially since she felt nervous.
Rosie slid into the booth in the far corner, pressing her cold hands against her flushed cheeks in an attempt to ground herself. Across from her, Akira plopped down with a dramatic sigh, her large iced cold brew in hand. She immediately took a long sip, visibly perking up as the caffeine worked its magic.
Rosie, on the other hand, was struggling to focus. She fiddled with the hem of her apron, chewing on her lip, her heart hammering in her chest. How the hell was she supposed to bring this up?
Akira raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re staring at me like you have something to say. Spit it out.”
Rosie hesitated for only a second before she leaned in slightly, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I’m… dating Katsuki.”
Akira didn’t even look surprised. Instead, she smirked, leaning back in the booth as she took another leisurely sip of her drink. “I knew my plan would work.”
Rosie blinked. “What?”
“I knew from the start that you had feelings for that guy,” Akira said smugly, twirling the straw in her drink. “You just didn’t realize it. So Kanako and I came up with a little plan last night.”
Rosie’s stomach dropped. “A plan?”
Akira smirked wider. “Yep. You were ignoring him, and he was pissed. So we figured if we made him jealous enough, he’d come storming in to get you.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder, looking far too pleased with herself. “And, as expected, I was right. I’m just a genius.”
Rosie’s face burned. “You planned that?!”
Akira shrugged, completely unapologetic. “Yep.”
Rosie groaned, burying her face in her hands. “You set me up.”
“For success.” Akira corrected, grinning. “And look at you now—dating the guy you were totally in denial about.”
Rosie peeked at her through her fingers before sighing. “…We just started dating this morning,” she admitted, rubbing her temples. “But we’re planning on keeping it a secret. From everyone.”
Akira’s smirk faltered slightly. “Wait, everyone?”
Rosie nodded. “I told you because you’re my best friend, and I know you can keep it a secret.”
Akira leaned forward, intrigued. “And why, exactly, are we keeping this juicy information from the world?”
Rosie sighed, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face. “Well… for starters, my dad would kill him.”
Akira winced. “Oh, yeah. Aizawa would not be thrilled.”
“Exactly.” Rosie slumped in her seat. “And I guess… I don’t know. I’ve never had a boyfriend before, so I kinda want to figure this out alone before everyone starts asking a million questions and making a big deal about it.”
Akira nodded slowly, considering that. “That’s fair. But, just so we’re clear—I demand updates.”
Rosie rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, yeah.”
Akira smirked, tapping her fingers against her cup. “So. How’s he as a boyfriend so far? I mean, it’s been, what? A whole couple of hours?”
Rosie flushed. “He’s… Katsuki. Touchy, smug, annoying—”
Akira cackled. “Ohhh, he’s totally wrapped around your finger.”
Rosie groaned. “I hate you.”
“No, you love me. And I love being right.” Akira took another long sip of her coffee, looking unbearably satisfied. “Now. Tell me everything.”
Rosie took a deep breath, then launched into the details of her morning with Katsuki. She told Akira everything—the teasing, the way he pinned her to the couch. Then she told her about how they planned to keep it a secret, at least for now, and about the underground show later that night where he’d be playing drums.
Akira listened eagerly, her eyes bright with amusement as she sipped on her cold brew. When Rosie finally finished, Akira sighed dramatically and leaned back in the booth.
“You’re so cute,” she grinned. “You really thought I was into him?”
Rosie flushed. “See it from my perspective.” She toyed with her straw, eyes flicking down to her half-finished drink. “All our lives, guys have been immediately charmed by you. The first time I introduce you to him, you end up spending the whole night talking and laughing together. I couldn’t help but feel… jealous.”
Akira’s face softened for a brief moment before she smirked. “Well, duh. You like him. And for the record, I was never into him.”
Rosie peeked up at her. “No?”
“Nope.” Akira took another sip of her coffee before setting it down with a clink. “It started with him asking me about you, and then one thing led to another, and suddenly I was telling him stories about you. Then, well… I might have threatened him a little bit.”
Rosie blinked. “Threatened him?”
Akira nodded solemnly, completely unbothered. “Yep. Told him that if he ever messed around with you, I’d use my quirk to kill him and get your dad to help me bury the body.”
Rosie’s mouth dropped open. “You did not.”
Akira grinned, unapologetic. “I absolutely did.”
Rosie’s face burned pink. “Oh.”
Akira waved a dismissive hand. “Even if you didn’t like him, I still wouldn’t go near him. His attitude and brash personality are a complete turn-off. Plus, you know I don’t do blondes.” She wrinkled her nose. “Miyu would have loved him, though.”
Rosie’s smile faltered slightly. “Yeah… I miss her.”
Akira exhaled softly. “Me too.” They shared a quiet moment before Akira smirked again, shaking off the somber mood. “Anyway, enough about you. Let’s talk about me.”
Rosie rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Oh no.”
“Oh yes.” Akira leaned forward with a smug grin. “So, remember that ridiculously hot guy from last night?”
“The one you disappeared with?”
“That’s the one.” Akira waggled her brows. “It was so worth it. Perfect jawline, killer arms, and the stamina of a god.”
Rosie groaned, covering her face. “Oh my God, why are you like this?”
Akira laughed. “Because someone needs to live life to the fullest, and it sure as hell isn’t you.” She checked the time on her phone before stretching. “Alright, I’m heading out. Gonna take Maya for a walk, then probably nap until it’s time for our nails.”
Rosie smiled. “Tell Maya I love her.”
“Always.” Akira winked as she slid out of the booth. “See you later, lovebird.”
Rosie threw a napkin at her, but Akira dodged it effortlessly, laughing as she strolled out of the café.
Rosie walked home, her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets as the cool night air pressed against her skin. She should have been relaxed—after all, it had been a good day. But still, that uneasy feeling had returned.
Like she was being watched.
Her steps quickened, but she kept her posture casual, doing her best to ignore the creeping sensation crawling up her spine. It had been happening for weeks now—this strange, prickling feeling, like unseen eyes were trailing her every move. She’d checked multiple times, looking over her shoulder, peering into alleyways, but there was never anyone there.
It’s just your imagination, she told herself, inhaling deeply. Just paranoia.
But she couldn’t shake it. The feeling lingered, clung to her like a shadow.
Until—As she neared her apartment building, the sensation lifted.
Just like that. Gone.
Like whoever—or whatever—had been watching her had vanished the moment she got too close to home. Her stomach twisted. Swallowing hard, Rosie shook the feeling off, forcing herself to focus on her plans for the night. She had to get her nails done, then Katsuki’s show.
Nothing else mattered. Still, she couldn’t help but cast one last glance over her shoulder before stepping inside her apartment building’s lobby.
Rosie and Akira stepped out of the cab and into the heart of the underground district, where the air was thick with the pulse of nightlife. Neon signs flickered above narrow alleyways, casting a glow over the bustling crowds that flowed in and out of dimly lit speakeasies, high-end cocktail bars, and hidden nightclubs tucked behind unmarked doors. The deep bass of music from various venues thrummed through the pavement beneath their feet, mingling with the chatter of excited partygoers.
The entrance to the tunnel leading into the district was already packed. People dressed in sleek club attire—dark silhouettes in leather, glittering dresses, and effortlessly cool streetwear—moved in clusters, their voices blending into the electric hum of the underground scene.
Rosie tightened her grip on Akira’s hand as they maneuvered through the crowd, their linked fingers ensuring they didn’t get separated. The dim overhead lighting cast shifting shadows along the tunnel walls, and the faint scent of expensive perfume, alcohol, and cigarette smoke clung to the air.
“Alright, where the hell is this place?” Akira muttered, scanning the signs posted along the corridor.
“Katsuki said it was just past the third set of lights,” Rosie replied, pulling her phone out to double-check the name of the club. “Markington”
Akira let out a small laugh. “What an American name.”
Rosie smiled, “Katsuki also said the whole class would be here—plus some people I met at that college party.”
“Oh, so we’re about to be social tonight,” Akira teased, nudging Rosie’s shoulder. “Look at you, expanding your circle.”
Rosie rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t suppress her smile. They wove through the tunnel, passing groups of friends laughing loudly, couples leaning close as they whispered to each other, and bouncers standing guard outside exclusive-looking entrances.
Then, finally, they saw it.
The entrance to Markington is set against a deep crimson wall, marked only by a metal sign illuminated in fiery red light. A line of people stood outside, chatting as they waited, while the heavy beat of music could be felt vibrating through the air. Rosie spotted a familiar figure near the front—Kirishima himself, grinning as he waved them over.
“Looks like we’ve found it,” Akira said, adjusting the strap of her bag. “Let’s get in there and support your rockstar boyfriend.”
“Akira!” She swatted at her, “keep it down.”
“Yes, yes.” Akira smirked.
As Rosie and Akira stepped past the bouncer and into Markington, the atmosphere shifted instantly. The air inside was thick with energy, a mix of pounding bass, laughter, and the hum of conversation. The lighting was dim, save for the deep crimson and violet neon accents that illuminated the space. It was sleeker than Plum—the college bar they had been to before—less chaotic, with a sophisticated edge despite the dark and edgy decor.
Kirishima turned back to them, grinning. Dressed in fitted black jeans, a crisp white T-shirt, and a leather jacket, he fit seamlessly into the setting. “Glad you two could make it! You look great!” he called over the music, flashing them a thumbs-up.
Akira smirked. “You clean up well yourself, Red.”
Rosie chuckled, adjusting the strap of her bag. “You said a friend owns the club?”
Kirishima’s smirk widened. “Yeah. Perks of knowing people in the right places,” he said, leading them through the crowd. “Follow me, we’ve got VIP.”
The girls exchanged a glance before trailing after him, weaving through the sea of people already dancing under the dim glow of chandeliers and spotlights. The club was far bigger than it had appeared from the outside—two stories, with sleek black railings lining the upper level that overlooked the dance floor below.
The large bar stretched along the back wall, shelves of liquor bottles reflecting the neon hues of the club’s lighting. Bartenders moved effortlessly behind the counter, mixing drinks with practiced ease while customers leaned in, calling out their orders.
As they walked, Rosie took everything in—the elegant but industrial design, the way the music pulsed beneath her feet, the mixture of high-end and casual styles in the crowd. It was a stark contrast to the other places they had been to, and she found herself impressed.
Akira nudged her. “You’re staring.”
Rosie blinked. “I’m just… taking it all in.”
Akira smirked knowingly, before whispering. “Sure. Not just waiting to spot your boyfriend?”
Rosie flushed but ignored her, instead turning her attention back to Kirishima as he led them up a short set of stairs to a roped-off section overlooking the main floor.
“Here we are,” Kirishima said, pulling the rope aside and gesturing for them to enter.
Inside the VIP area, a few familiar faces were already lounging on the plush leather seating. Momo was seated elegantly with a cocktail in hand, while Jirou was tuning her guitar in the corner. Kaminari waved enthusiastically the moment he spotted them, already mid-conversation with Tokoyami, who sat with his arms crossed, looking as stoic as ever.
And then, of course, there was Katsuki.
Dressed in a black right turtleneck sleeveless shirt and ripped gray jeans, he sat on the arm of one of the couches, his arms resting on his thighs. The moment he saw Rosie, his crimson eyes locked onto her, something unreadable flickering across his face as he clenched his jaws.
Rosie swallowed, her heartbeat picking up as she suddenly became very aware of the way her outfit hugged her figure.
Kirishima clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Look who I found!”
Katsuki’s eyes flickered to where Kirishima’s hand rested on her shoulder, his lip rising in a snarl. Akira smiled, catching the shift in Katsuki’s behavior, “hey Kirishima, would you mind showing me where the bathroom is?”
“Yeah of course!” He smiled, “the girls are there too. Follow me!”
Rosie watched as Akira winked at her before following Kirishima, turning back to Katsuki, she flushed. “I’m going to get a drink.”
Rosie made her way toward the bar, her heart still racing from the way Katsuki’s gaze had lingered on her. She needed a drink—something strong, something to calm the heat creeping up her neck. The bass from the music pulsed under her feet as she slipped through the crowd, the scent of alcohol and perfume thick in the air.
The bartender, a man with neatly slicked-back hair and a silver hoop in his nose, turned to her with a charming smile. “What can I get you?”
She leaned slightly against the bar, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “A rum with Dr Pepper and a Jack Daniels, please.”
The bartender nodded, already moving to grab the bottles, but before she could even take a breath, a familiar warmth pressed against her back.
A large hand settled firmly on the small of her spine, fingers spreading just enough to make her skin tingle through the thin fabric of her top. She stiffened, her lips parting in surprise. Before she could turn around, warm lips brushed against the shell of her ear, a voice low and husky sending a shiver down her spine—“You look beautiful.”
Her breath hitched. She knew that voice.
Katsuki.
Rosie blinked, her head tilting slightly to the side as she swallowed hard. “Oh?”
He hummed, the sound vibrating against her skin before he trailed his lips down to her jawline, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss there. “Very.”
Her mind went blank.
This was new. This was unexpected.
Katsuki had always been brash and bold, but this? This slow, lazy confidence, the way he touched her so casually in public—it sent her thoughts spiraling.
She swallowed thickly, attempting to gather herself as she finally turned her head to look at him. “You’re being—”
“Being what?” he smirked, his face dangerously close to hers.
She didn’t have an answer.
The bartender returned, setting down the two drinks. Katsuki reached over her shoulder, easily picking up the Jack Daniels taking a slow sip, his eyes never leaving hers.
Rosie blinked at him, trying to focus on anything other than the way her skin still burned where he had touched her.
“I—I got that for Akira,” she mumbled.
Katsuki chuckled, finally pulling back, his hand lingering on her waist before he turned toward the VIP section. “Then hurry up and give it to her, princess.”
Rosie let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, grabbing her drink before quickly following behind him.
As they made their way through the hallway leading back to the VIP area, the crowd had thinned, leaving them in relative privacy. Just as she was about to step forward, Katsuki suddenly stopped, turning toward her.
Before she could ask why, he leaned down and pressed a quick, soft kiss to her forehead. It was so brief, so fleeting, but it sent warmth flooding through her chest. He handed her the Jack Daniels. Then, as quickly as it had happened, he turned on his heel and disappeared toward the stage entrance without another word.
Rosie blinked, her face heating as she stood frozen for a second, before shaking her head and stepping into the VIP section.
Inside, the atmosphere was buzzing with conversation. Momo and Kaminari were already heading out to join the others on stage, while Mina, Shoji, Shoto, and Iida were gathered near one of the plush couches, chatting animatedly.
Akira, already deep in conversation with Mina, turned when Rosie approached. Rosie extended the Jack Daniels to her. “Your usual.”
Akira took it with a smirk, glancing at Rosie’s expression. “You look flustered.”
Rosie took a long sip of her own drink, ignoring the knowing glint in Akira’s eyes. “Shut up.”
The VIP room hummed with anticipation as the group gathered near the railing, overlooking the stage below. The crowd was packed shoulder to shoulder, a sea of eager faces illuminated by neon lights that pulsed in time with the low hum of the speakers. Rosie leaned against the railing beside Akira, her fingers still wrapped around her drink as they watched their friends take the stage.
Momo dressed ina leather red dress and black heels stood behind the keyboard. Jirou fiddled with the knobs on her guitar as she stood behind the mic, Kaminari adjusted his bass strap, and Tokoyami stood with his guitar, playing a couple of strings, his posture exuding effortless cool. Then there was Katsuki.
Rosie’s breath caught as she watched him settle behind the drum kit, rolling his shoulders before gripping the sticks in his hands, twirling them in his hands. Even from this distance, she could see the fire in his eyes, the same intensity—something untamed, something wild.
The crowd grew quiet as Jirou leaned into the mic. “Yo,” she greeted, her voice casual but confident. “Glad to see such a packed house tonight. We’ve got some new stuff for you all, so hope you’re ready.”
A cheer rippled through the crowd, and with a nod, she strummed the first chord. Then the music hit.
The deep, thrumming bass reverberated through Rosie’s chest, the electric riff from Jirou’s guitar slicing through the air as Kaminari and Momo joined in with their own melodies. Then Katsuki came in, his drumsticks slamming down with perfect precision, setting the tempo with a beat so sharp and aggressive it sent a rush of adrenaline straight to her veins.
Rosie felt herself moving instinctively, the rhythm pulling her in. Around her, Mina and Akira were already dancing, arms raised as they lost themselves in the music. Even Iida, usually composed, nodded along, while Shoto tapped his fingers against his glass in time with the beat.
But Rosie barely noticed any of it.
Her eyes never left Katsuki.
He was magnetic, the way he played—his body moving with controlled power, muscles flexing with each strike against the drumheads. His jaw was clenched, blond hair damp with sweat under the dim, flashing lights, but his focus never wavered.
And at one point—he looked up.
Their eyes met, and it was like the air had been stolen from her lungs.
The world around them blurred, the music faded into the background for a split second as something unspoken passed between them. He didn’t smirk, didn’t look away. He just held her gaze, unwavering, as his arms moved effortlessly through each rapid-fire beat.
Rosie’s heart pounded—whether from the music or from him, she wasn’t sure.
Song after song bled into the next, each one electrifying, each one keeping the energy high. Rosie danced with her friends, feeling freer than she had in weeks, caught between the pulse of the music and the weight of Katsuki’s gaze.
By the time they played their final song, the crowd erupted into cheers, hands raised in appreciation. Katsuki tossed his drumsticks into the audience before running a hand through his sweat-damp hair, exhaling deeply as the stage lights dimmed.
The group made their way back toward the VIP area as another band took their place. As soon as they entered, they were met with an outpour of excitement.
“That was insane,” Mina gushed, practically bouncing on her heels. “Jirou, you killed it out there!”
Jirou, looking slightly embarrassed but pleased, took a sip from her water bottle. “Glad you guys liked it.”
“The new songs were incredible,” Momo added, her cheeks still flushed from the rush of performing. “I was so nervous about them, but the crowd loved it.”
“They were fantastic,” Iida agreed, adjusting his glasses. “The energy was palpable.”
Rosie took a long sip of her drink, then smiled at Jirou. “You’re holding out on us. Since when did you write stuff like that?”
Jirou shrugged, her fingers drumming against the side of her glass. “It’s been a work in progress for a while. I wanted to write something raw—something that actually meant something to us, y’know?”
Rosie listened, still catching her breath as she glanced toward Katsuki. He hadn’t said a word since they re-entered the VIP room, just casually leaning against the back of the couch, arms crossed.
But his gaze was still locked on her. And suddenly, she couldn’t hear anything else.
Is this what it means to like a boy?
Notes:
I hope you guys enjoy! Sorry for the late update, I had a lot of homework to do and was working on the chapter for my other story. Which I recommend reading as a lot of references from this story come from that one as this is a part of it, so please go read that one!
Chapter 25: How to be a good boyfriend.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Never had he wanted to touch somebody so much. His fingers itching to hold her.
Katsuki had been with plenty of girls who wanted his attention—some throwing themselves at him, others playing coy to get under his skin—but none of them had ever made him feel like this.
Rosie did.
She had shown up tonight in those high-waisted gray ripped shorts that clung to her hips, the black leather boots that made her legs look even longer, and that off-the-shoulder crop top with a faded logo from Cigarettes After Sex. The fabric slouched just enough to tease the curve of her collarbone, her smooth skin glowing under the dim club lights.
The desire to bury his fingers into her hair, kiss those pink lips of her and taste her strawberry lip gloss was overwhelming.
He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, half-listening as Izuku, Shoto, Kirishima, and Kaminari talked beside him. They were saying something—probably about the setlist, or how good the turnout was—but he couldn’t focus.
Not when Rosie was right there.
She was standing with the girls, drink in hand, her head thrown back in laughter at something Mina had said. The sound was like static in his veins, making his fingers twitch against his bicep. The way she moved, the way she talked, the way she was just her—he wanted to be near her.
But she was going to be with Akira for the next two days.
And it was killing him.
He just wanted to be with her. Alone. No distractions, no friends pulling her away, no crowded clubs, class hangouts, or loud music. Just him and Rosie.
He had waited to have her—to call her his—and now that he did, he realized something.
He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing.
He understood the basic concept of relationships. He had seen them, observed them, even judged some of them. He knew what being a boyfriend meant. But knowing and doing were two completely different things.
For starters, he knew sex was off the table. At least for now. That part was… new. He was used to things being fast and quick with random girls who only wanted to fuck him because of his reputation and war status. But Rosie was different. She was his, and that meant she deserved better than just rushed moments of desperation and carnal pleasure.
It meant he had to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do in a relationship beyond just wanting her.
Katsuki clenched his jaw, exhaling sharply as he forced himself to look away from her.
He could handle waiting two days. More than enough time for him to figure out how to be a boyfriend.
…Right?
The engine of Katsuki’s car hummed softly as he navigated the quiet streets, the neon glow of the city fading into the distance. The high-energy buzz from the show at Markington was still coursing through his veins, but the exhaustion was creeping in. In the backseat, Akira was completely knocked out, snoring softly, her head slumped against the window.
Rosie sat beside him in the passenger seat, legs crossed, arms tucked around herself as she gazed out at the passing lights. She looked relaxed, though the faintest hint of exhaustion clung to her expression. Katsuki glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel.
He wanted to reach over, to slip his hand into hers, to lace their fingers together and just hold on. But he didn’t. Instead, he drummed his fingers against the leather of the steering wheel, the only betrayal of his inner turmoil.
He nearly missed the red light, braking a little harder than necessary. The sudden stop made Rosie blink, turning toward him with that soft smile—the one that always made his chest feel too tight.
“I told Akira that we’re dating.”
Katsuki arched a brow, keeping his eyes on the light. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Rosie’s fingers toyed with the hem of her shorts. “She wasn’t surprised.”
Katsuki let out a short breath, his lips curling at the corner. “Of course she wasn't, she already knew that I like you.”
Rosie shifted slightly in her seat, glancing down at her hands before looking back at him. “Really?”
“Of course it is.”
She let out a small laugh, tilting her head toward him. “I think it was more you than me.”
Katsuki’s grip on the wheel loosened as he turned toward her slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Me?”
Rosie’s face was already starting to heat up. “Yeah.”
He smirked, leaning his elbow against the console, his tone smooth. “Hate to break it to you, Pretty Girl, but you’re not exactly subtle either.”
Her breath hitched at the pet name, her fingers gripping the hem of her shorts a little tighter. “I—I am too subtle.”
Katsuki huffed a quiet laugh, his voice dipping lower as he turned his attention back to the road. “Not when you look at me the way you do.”
Rosie’s heart stuttered in her chest. “I—I don’t—”
“You do.” His smirk deepened, but there was something else in his gaze—something warm. “Not that I’m complainin’.”
The light turned green, and he drove forward, the city lights flickering through the windshield. Rosie bit her lip, looking away, but the warmth on her face was undeniable.
“You get shy too easily,” Katsuki murmured after a moment, casting her a sidelong glance.
Rosie swallowed, still avoiding his eyes. “That’s because you—” She stopped herself, exhaling sharply.
Katsuki chuckled, low and deep, before shifting gears effortlessly. “I what?”
She huffed, her cheeks still warm. “You know what you do.”
“Do I?”
The teasing lilt in his voice made her groan, sinking further into her seat. Katsuki just smirked, satisfied, as he turned onto her street.
“Go to hell,” she mumbled, crossing her arms.
“Already there, sweetheart,” he shot back effortlessly, slowing the car to a stop in front of her place.
Rosie shook her head, unable to hide her smile as she unbuckled her seatbelt. Katsuki reached over, catching her wrist lightly.
“Wait,” he said, his voice quieter now.
She blinked, looking at him as he rubbed his thumb against her skin absentmindedly.
“I’ll carry Akira inside.”
Rosie glanced back at her best friend, still snoring in the backseat, before nodding. “Okay.”
Katsuki let go of her wrist, and she swore her skin still tingled where he had touched her. As she stepped out of the car, she heard his voice again, softer this time. “Come on, Pretty Girl.”
She didn’t even have time to react before he opened the back door to haul Akira out, carrying her with ease. Rosie pressed a hand to her warm cheek, biting back a giddy smile before following him inside.
Katsuki wasn’t a morning person.
Dragging himself out of bed, he showered, threw on some black joggers and a white t-shirt, and grabbed his worn-out jacket before heading out. He shoved his hands in his pockets, the crisp morning air barely cutting through his usual heat as he made his way across campus, a steaming coffee in hand.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it at first, yawning as he took a sip of his coffee. But then it vibrated again.
He fished it out, screen lighting up with a message from Pretty Girl.
Pretty Girl: Good morning!
Pretty Girl: (image attached)
His pace slowed slightly as he clicked on the image.
It was a selfie—Rosie, at work, wearing that stupidly cute apron over her uniform. Her hair was tied back, wisps of it falling loose around her face, and she had that soft little smile that made his brain short-circuit.
His fingers were already moving before he could even think about it.
Katsuki: Good morning, I thought you didn’t work this mornings?
He took another sip of his coffee, watching the screen as the little dots appeared, signaling she was typing.
Pretty Girl: I don’t but I asked for the week off but my boss could only give me five days off as long as I worked two shifts. At least I get all the free coffee I want.
Katsuki’s lips curled into a smirk as he read her response, shaking his head as he typed back.
Katsuki: Tch. So basically, you got conned into working?
The reply came almost immediately.
Pretty Girl: Maybe a little 😅 but it’s not bad!
Pretty Girl: Like I said… unlimited coffee ☕
He scoffed, shoving his free hand into his pocket as he walked.
Katsuki: Still, if you’re running on just coffee, I’m making you eat something later or have Akira do it for me.
There was a pause. Then—
Pretty Girl: Oh? You’re taking care of me now?
Katsuki grinned, slowing his steps as he took another sip of his coffee.
Katsuki: What, you got a problem with that? And if you haven’t noticed by now you idiot, I have been doing that since the first day we met.
Pretty Girl: N-No, I just—
The dots flickered, stopping and starting again, before finally—
Pretty Girl: You’re just really sweet sometimes, is all.
His smirk faltered slightly, warmth curling low in his stomach. Damn her.
Katsuki: Don’t go around callin’ me sweet, dumbass.
Pretty Girl: Why not? It’s true 🤭
Katsuki: I’ve got a reputation to uphold, y’know.
Pretty Girl: Mmhmm, whatever you say, Mr. Tough Guy.
Katsuki rolled his eyes, but his smirk stayed firmly in place.
Katsuki: How long you workin’ for?
Pretty Girl: Until eleven 😩
Katsuki: And after?
Pretty Girl: Akira, Kanako, and I are going to a karaoke club! Akira also wants to do more sightseeing later.
Katsuki sighed through his nose, running a hand through his hair. That meant another night where he wouldn’t get her to himself. Not that he could be mad—she had plans with her friends, and it wasn’t like he was the type to cling to people. Right?
Still.
Katsuki: You’re really makin’ me wait to get you alone, huh?
He barely had time to process sending it before her reply came in almost immediately.
Pretty Girl: !!!
Pretty Girl: KATSUKI
Pretty Girl: YOU CAN’T JUST SAY STUFF LIKE THAT
His grin widened.
Katsuki: Why not? It’s true.
A solid minute passed with no response, and he could just see her face going pink through the screen. She always got embarrassed and shy so easily. One of the things he liked about her.
Then—
Pretty Girl: …I have to get back to work.
Katsuki huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head.
Katsuki: Yeah, yeah. Text me when you’re out, brat.
He pocketed his phone just as he reached the lecture hall, but his mind was nowhere near focused on Aizawa’s class.
Katsuki plopped down onto his couch, hair still damp from the shower, a towel draped around his shoulders as he cracked open a cold bottle of water. His muscles ached from an intense workout with Deku, Icy Hot, Kirishima, and Kaminari, and the logical thing to do right now would be to get a head start on his assignments.
But instead, he found himself staring at his laptop, his fingers resting over the keyboard. How was he supposed to be a boyfriend?
He scowled. This was stupid. He didn’t need help. He was Katsuki fucking Bakugou—he didn’t need a damn manual to be a boyfriend…Right?
And yet, the longer he sat there, the more the little voice in the back of his head nagged at him. He had never done this before. He knew the basics, sure—don’t cheat, don’t be a dick (too much), take care of her, obviously—but beyond that?
Tch. Fuck it.
With a resigned sigh, he typed into the search bar: How to be a good boyfriend.
Immediately, a flood of articles, listicles, and god-awful BuzzFeed posts assaulted his screen. He clicked the first link, already regretting it.
Step 1: Communication is key! Always listen to your partner’s needs.
Katsuki scoffed. No shit. What, was he supposed to ignore her when she talked? Who the hell didn’t listen when someone spoke to them? Idiots, that’s who.
He scrolled.
Step 2: Give her unexpected compliments! Tell her she’s beautiful, appreciate her outfit, and let her know you’re thinking about her!
His eye twitched. He did that already—kind of. He told Rosie she looked amazing last night, didn’t he? And she fucking short-circuited, so clearly she wasn’t used to it. Maybe he needed to say it more…
He shook his head and kept scrolling.
Step 3: Plan romantic dates! Show her you care by putting effort into your time together.
Romantic dates. Right. He could do that. It wasn’t like he was some clueless dumbass—he had ideas. Dinner, movie, something fun. He’d figure it out.
He skimmed down further.
Step 4: Never stop flirting! Keep the spark alive! Surprise her with sweet texts and cheeky compliments throughout the day!
He groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. Surprise texts? Like what? Good morning, Pretty Girl, I was thinking about your stupid cute smile today? That was corny as hell.
But then he imagined her face if he actually sent something like that—flustered, blushing, probably stammering through a response.
…Maybe he’d give it a shot. Once.
More scrolling.
Step 5: Always respect her boundaries, both emotional and physical! Take things at her pace!
Katsuki’s jaw tightened, his expression sobering slightly. He knew that part already. Rosie was new to this, just like he was, and sex was definitely off the table for now. It wasn’t a big deal—he wasn’t some impatient asshole who couldn’t control himself. He’d figure out the whole boyfriend thing without that.
With a sigh he decided to read more about the stupidest article later, he opened a new tab, pulling up his lecture notes, running both hands through his hair.
This was going to be a hell of a learning curve.
The moment Aizawa dismissed class, Katsuki grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, letting out a sigh as he stretched his arms above his head. Another long-ass lecture, and now he was starving.
Beside him, Kirishima grinned, shoving his own books into his bag. “Yo, wanna grab lunch? I’m starving, man.”
“Tch. Obviously.” Katsuki jerked his head toward the door, leading the way out of the classroom and into the hallway, his hands stuffed into his pockets. The two fell into step, making their way toward the exit of the building and towards the quad.
As they walked, Kirishima shot him a curious look. “So… how are things with Rosie?”
Katsuki stiffened slightly, his gaze snapping forward. He had expected the question at some point, but still. He debated on just brushing it off, giving some vague it’s fine answer, but something about the way Kirishima was looking at him made him hesitate.
With a low grunt, he exhaled sharply and glanced at his best friend. “You can’t tell anyone,” he muttered, voice low.
Kirishima blinked in surprise. “Huh?”
Katsuki stopped walking, grabbing Kirishima by the shoulder and pulling him off to the side of the hallway, out of earshot of passing students. He narrowed his eyes. “I mean it. Not anyone. Not even Mina.”
Kirishima held up both hands, looking slightly startled. “Alright, alright! I swear, man! What’s up?”
Katsuki glanced around once before exhaling, rubbing the back of his neck. Then, with a reluctant scowl, he muttered, “We’re dating.”
Silence.
Kirishima just stared at him. “…Wait. What?”
Katsuki clicked his tongue, glaring at the wall like it had personally offended him. “You fucking heard me.”
A slow grin spread across Kirishima’s face. “Dude!”
Katsuki immediately grabbed him by the collar, yanking him forward with a scowl. “Shut up, dumbass!” he hissed, eyes darting around. “I said we’re keeping it a secret!”
Kirishima chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay! Damn, man, I didn’t expect that. How long?”
“Yesterday morning,” Katsuki muttered, finally releasing him.
Kirishima shook his head, grinning. “Man, you really do like her, huh?”
Katsuki grunted, looking away. “…Yeah.”
Kirishima let out a low whistle, clapping him on the back as they continued toward the quad. “Damn. My boy Bakugou, actually in a relationship. Never thought I’d see the day.”
Katsuki shoved him, scowling. “Shut the hell up.”
Kirishima just laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, dude, your secret’s safe with me.”
“I will fucking kill you if it isn’t,” Katsuki muttered, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.
Kirishima raised his hands in surrender. “Chill, man! I’m not saying anything.”
Katsuki just grunted in response as they walked through the quad, making their way toward their usual lunch spot. The sun was high, students scattered around on the grass, some studying, others chatting in small groups. The scent of fresh ramen wafted through the air as they neared a small shop tucked into the corner of campus, one of their favorite places to grab food between classes.
As they stepped inside, the bell above the door jingled, and the familiar warmth of the restaurant settled over them. Katsuki made a beeline for the counter, scanning the menu even though he already knew what he wanted.
“So,” Kirishima started, leaning against the counter. “When are you taking her out on a real date?”
“Friday night,” Katsuki grunted, not looking up.
Kirishima made a face. “Uh, no can do, man.” He clapped a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. “We got game night at your place, remember? Dungeons and Dragons? We made these plans Sunday night at Silven’s? Mina’s been hyped for it all week.”
Katsuki’s brow twitched. Fuck, he forgot about that. Not like he could cancel either—Rosie had been looking forward to it since she had never played before, and that nerd Deku had practically jumped at the chance to be their Dungeon Master.
“Saturday night then,” Katsuki clenched his jaw, ordering his food before moving to a booth near the window.
Kirishima followed, setting down his tray. “Man, I can’t believe you’re actually playing D&D. Who even are you?”
Katsuki shot him a glare as he picked up his chopsticks. “Shut the fuck up, dumbass. Rosie wants to play, so I’m playing.”
Kirishima smirked. “Whipped.”
Katsuki chucked a crumpled napkin at his face.
As they started eating, the conversation shifted. “You ready for Aizawa’s test next week?” Kirishima asked, slurping up his noodles.
“Tch. Obviously.” Katsuki leaned back, crossing his arms. “Been studying every damn night.”
Kirishima groaned. “Man, it’s gonna be brutal. Aizawa doesn’t hold back. I barely passed his last written exam.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “That’s ‘cause you half-ass your notes.”
“I do not!”
Katsuki gave him a pointed look.
Kirishima sighed. “Okay, maybe a little.”
Katsuki shook his head. “You better step it up, or you’re gonna get wrecked.”
Kirishima laughed. “That’s why I was hoping we could study together sometime this week.”
Katsuki shrugged. “Fine. But I’m not holding your damn hand through it.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less, man,” Kirishima grinned before digging back into his ramen.
Notes:
I honestly loved writing this chapter haha as Katsuki looking up how to be a boyfriend was something my current boyfriend did when he first asked me out on a date as he was a playboy and had never had a girlfriend before haha anyway, hope you have a great day and enjoyed the chapter!
Chapter 26: And imagining you crying in a taxi is sad as hell.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Alright," Akira declared as she grabbed a cart, cracking her knuckles like they were preparing for a mission. "Operation: Overindulgence is a go."
Rosie giggled, pushing her hair back into a messy bun. "We’re going to need a second cart if we go too crazy."
Akira smirked. "That sounds like quitter talk."
They started in the wine section, where Akira immediately grabbed two bottles of red, two of white. Rosie reached for a bottle of rosé and then a second for good measure.
"One for now, one for later," she reasoned.
Akira wiggled her eyebrows. "One for us, one for Katsuki to use when he finally realizes how much of a romantic he actually is."
Rosie groaned, shoving her. "Shut up!"
Next, they hit the ice cream aisle, and things spiraled from there. Rosie tossed a pint of strawberry into the cart while Akira grabbed a pint of double chocolate fudge brownie. Then, with a devious grin, they started throwing in more—cookie dough, chocolate, caramel swirl—until there was no longer any logic behind their choices.
"We're gonna be sick," Rosie laughed, staring at the mountain of ice cream.
"But it’ll be worth it," Akira countered.
Then came the chocolate cake. Not just one cake, but two because, as Akira put it, "One is for eating, and the other is for regret-eating when we finish the first one too fast."
As Rosie giggled, Akira suddenly grabbed her by the waist and lifted her into the cart with an ease that only years of doing this nonsense allowed.
"Hey!" Rosie yelped, flailing slightly as she landed on top of the soft packs of marshmallows they'd grabbed earlier.
Akira grinned. "What? It’s tradition!"
Rosie sighed dramatically but made herself comfortable as Akira pushed the cart toward checkout, laughing as they ignored the weird looks from other shoppers.
The bookstore was their sanctuary. The scent of paper and coffee filled the air as they wandered through the aisles, stacks of books already in their arms. Rosie had picked up two new fantasy novels while Akira held a thriller and a historical drama. But then, inevitably, they drifted toward the romance section.
Akira picked up a novel, scanning the back cover before glancing at Rosie with a grin. "Okay, but why are you still buying romance books now that you have a boyfriend?"
Rosie froze mid-reach, her face heating. "W-what do you mean?"
Akira smirked. "I mean, isn’t the whole point of romance books to get all dreamy-eyed about love? You’ve got your own romance now. So what’s the point?"
Rosie sputtered, placing the book against her chest like it could somehow protect her. "We just started dating! And—and Katsuki doesn’t seem like the romantic type!"
Akira snorted. "Uh-huh. Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Rosie groaned. "Besides, I’ll always read romance books, regardless of being in a relationship or not. It’s just… nice."
Akira slung an arm around her shoulder, grinning. "Well, at least you admit it. But mark my words, he will prove you wrong."
Rosie shook her head, stuffing the book into her shopping basket. "Yeah, yeah. Let’s just check out before you start making bets on my love life."
Akira winked. "Too late, already did that with Mina."
“Our relationship is a secret,” Rosie rolled her eyes.
“She doesn’t know that you guys are together.” Akira gave her a wicked grin, “easy money for me.”
“You’re a wicked person.” Rosie let out a snort
By the time they returned to Rosie’s apartment, they had already fallen into their old routine—the kind that had been years in the making. First, showers to wash away the day's exhaustion, then their shared skincare routine that had started as a joke in high school but had since become sacred. They carefully applied serums and moisturizers, teasing each other in the bathroom mirror over who had the better glow.
Now, wrapped in soft pajamas and buried under plush blankets, they were sprawled across Rosie’s living room, fully immersed in their indulgent night of books, wine, and far too many sweets.
Rosie curled up on the loveseat, a fluffy pink blanket draped over her legs as she sipped her glass of white wine, the chilled liquid a perfect contrast to the warmth of her cozy socks. Her bowl of strawberry ice cream sat on the coffee table, the chocolate cake beneath it smothered in caramel syrup. Every bite was sweet, rich, and utterly satisfying.
Akira, lounging on the couch opposite her, had gone for her usual: red wine with red velvet cake, piled high with scoops of cookie dough and chocolate ice cream, topped with a handful of mini marshmallows. She took a dramatic sip of her wine, her book balanced against her knee as she turned the page with a lazy flick of her fingers.
"God, I forgot how perfect this is," Akira sighed, sinking further into the couch, the warm glow of the fairy lights strung along Rosie’s walls making the room feel like a haven. "How did we survive life before these nights?"
Rosie smiled, turning a page in her book. "By texting each other every single time we read a good part, sending a million reaction memes, and swearing that one day we’d do this again in person."
Akira hummed. "Ah, yes. The dramatic late-night rants. I miss those." She popped a marshmallow into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully before shooting Rosie a look. "We should move in together again. Say screw it and live like we’re still seventeen."
Rosie laughed, shaking her head. "I don’t think Katsuki would appreciate me getting a roommate when I just started dating him."
Akira waggled her eyebrows. "Ohhh, so you’re already thinking about living with him someday? Interesting."
Rosie choked on her wine, nearly dropping her book. "That is not what I said!"
Akira cackled, throwing a marshmallow at her. "Relax, babe. I’m just messing with you.”
“With you being wild, and coming in and out at all times of the night. Bringing home hot strange men is something I’m not interested in especially since I like to walk around my apartment in a towel or a robe.” Rosie snorted as she set her wine glass down and picked up her bowel and began to eat.
Akira giggled, “you do make excellent points.” Then she frowned, “but for real, I’m gonna miss this."
Rosie softened, setting her book aside. "Me too. It’s not fair that you live across the world."
Akira sighed dramatically, flopping onto her side. "Ugh, I know. Stupid time zones. Stupid jobs and college. Stupid adult responsibilities."
Maya, Rosie’s dog, lifted her head from her bed, giving Akira an unimpressed look before going back to gnawing on the peanut butter-covered bone Rosie had frozen earlier.
"We’ll make it work," Rosie reassured her, taking another bite of ice cream. "Video calls, book exchanges, and when we visit, we’ll make up for lost time. We always do."
Akira grinned, holding up her wine glass. "To long-distance best friends who refuse to let the world get in the way of our traditions."
Rosie clinked her glass against Akira’s, the sound light and comforting.
"To always making time for the things that matter," Rosie added.
With that, they settled back into their books, the soft hum of music playing in the background, the warmth of their friendship wrapping around them just as much as their blankets.
It was around five when Rosie finally set her book aside, stretching as she realized how long she and Akira had been curled up on the couches reading. Her stomach grumbled in protest of the pure sugar and wine diet they’d been indulging in all day, and she figured it was time for some actual food.
With a yawn, she pushed off the couch and padded to the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of her oversized pajama top. Something easy. Quick. Comfort food. Chicken nuggets, mashed potatoes with gravy, and creamy corn. Simple, but satisfying.
As she worked, she could hear Akira occasionally giggling at the trashy romance movie she had put on. Something about an Italian mafioso and a Polish girl—overly dramatic, painfully unrealistic, and exactly the kind of nonsense they loved to make fun of.
By the time Rosie plated their food and brought it over, Akira had already made herself at home under another blanket.
“You’re the best,” Akira hummed, happily accepting her plate.
“I know,” Rosie said, grinning as she settled back onto the couch with her own food.
They ate in comfortable silence, occasionally making snide comments about the movie’s ridiculous dialogue. After finishing, Rosie fed Maya her dinner, watching fondly as her dog happily scarfed down her meal before flopping onto the floor, satisfied.
“I’m going to take Maya out and walk off some of this food,” Rosie announced, standing and stretching her arms over her head. “Wanna come?”
Akira shook her head, yawning. “Nah, I should probably start packing. I’ve been putting it off all day.”
Rosie wrinkled her nose at the reminder that her best friend was leaving tomorrow, but she didn’t push it. Instead, she grabbed her jacket, slipping it over her shoulders before reaching for Maya’s leash. At the sound of the jingling metal, the white poodle practically skidded across the floor, tail wagging wildly as she danced excitedly on her hind legs.
Rosie chuckled. “Alright, alright, hold still.”
Leashing Maya, she slipped her phone into her pocket and turned back to Akira. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
After stepping off the elevator and out of the lobby and into the crisp evening air, the cool breeze doing little to shake the sluggishness in her limbs. Between all the junk food, the wine, and the pure exhaustion of the past few days, her body felt both heavy and warm, the comfortable sort of exhaustion that made her want to curl up and sleep for hours.
Still, she made her way to the small dog park a few blocks from her apartment, letting Maya off the leash as soon as they entered. The poodle immediately took off, bounding excitedly toward a group of other dogs, her tail wagging in pure joy. Rosie smiled, stuffing her hands into her pockets as she watched.
She felt a little dazed still, her mind pleasantly fuzzy from the lingering effects of the wine, and she let out a slow breath, just enjoying the fresh air.
Then, her phone buzzed in her pocket.
She frowned slightly, pulling it out to see Mr. Grumpy flashing on the screen. Her stomach flipped.
Why was she suddenly feeling shy? They had been texting all day, but hearing his voice was different.
She hesitated for only a second before finally swiping to answer, bringing the phone up to her ear. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” his voice was rough, low—probably from practice or exhaustion. “What are you doin’?”
Rosie tucked her chin into her jacket, suddenly very aware of how her face was heating. “Um… walking Maya. Took her to the dog park.”
Katsuki let out a small snort. “Figured you’d be in a wine coma by now.”
She huffed a laugh. “Almost. I needed air.”
There was a pause, the sound of rustling on his end before he spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “Kinda wish I was there with you.”
Rosie’s brain short-circuited.
It was such a simple statement, but the weight of it hit her like a train.
She felt her face burn, and she turned away as if anyone around could see the way she was reacting to a single sentence.
“I—um,” she stammered, hating how flustered she sounded. “You do?”
A low chuckle rumbled through the phone. “Yeah.”
Rosie swallowed, gripping the edge of her sleeve as she focused on the way Maya was happily playing in the distance, hoping it would ground her.
Katsuki, however, seemed to pick up on her embarrassment. And he was enjoying it.
“You get shy real easy, huh?” he teased.
She groaned, covering her face with her hand. “Shut up.”
His laugh was deeper this time, genuine, and it sent a stupid warmth through her chest.
“Cute,” he muttered under his breath, almost like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.
Rosie was certain she was going to die from embarrassment if he continued to flirt with her like this.
Rosie ran a hand through her hair, attempting to calm the frantic beating of her heart. She needed a change of subject—anything to keep her from completely melting under Katsuki’s attention.
“Think I might head to bed early tonight,” she said, shifting on the bench. “Akira has an early flight tomorrow.”
“What time?”
“Her flight starts boarding at eleven, so she wants to be at the airport by nine.” Rosie smiled faintly, stretching her legs as Maya trotted around the park.
Katsuki hummed on the other end of the line. “Does this mean I get time with you tomorrow?”
Rosie let out a soft sigh. “I still have chemistry in the afternoon, a pile of homework, and a test to study for next Friday.”
“I’ll help you study,” he offered, voice steady.
“That would be perfect! Kirishima and Kaminari actually invited me earlier to join your study group.”
“Damn bastards,” he grumbled.
Giggling, Rosie watched as Maya came sprinting toward her, tongue hanging out in a goofy pant. The dog skidded to a stop, looking up expectantly. “Looks like Maya’s ready to go,” she said, standing as she clipped the leash onto her collar.
As she left the dog park, the night air felt cooler against her skin, the city lights painting soft halos on the pavement. She kept her phone tucked against her ear, one hand gripping Maya’s leash as they strolled toward her apartment.
“I’m excited to play Dungeons and Dragons,” Rosie admitted, smiling slightly. “I’ve always wanted to try, but Akira was never interested, and I didn’t really have any other friends—let alone anyone who played.”
“Bunch of nerds,” Katsuki muttered, but there was no real bite behind it.
“Does that make you one too?” she teased.
“Tch. I’m just playing because I’m forced to,” he shot back. “I don’t give a shit about dice and whatever else that nerd Deku keeps rambling about.”
Rosie giggled again, stepping onto the sidewalk as her building came into view. Maya trotted beside her, her little legs working double time to keep up.
She didn’t notice the shift in the air.
Didn’t notice the quiet set of footsteps trailing at a distance, lingering just far enough to stay undetected.
The feeling didn’t settle in her gut until she reached the entrance of her apartment complex. The lobby was quiet at this hour, only the soft hum of the elevator filling the space as she stepped inside. A chill crawled up her spine, but when she turned to glance over her shoulder, the street behind her was empty.
Weird.
Shrugging it off, she pressed the elevator button and stepped inside with Maya, who was panting heavily, clearly exhausted.
She adjusted her grip on the phone, voice soft. “I should go, I just got to my door.”
Katsuki exhaled on the other end, his voice gruff but warm. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Rosie hesitated, suddenly nervous. “Yeah. Of course.”
“Good,” he muttered. Then, with the kind of certainty that made her breath hitch, he added, “Now get inside your apartment before that cotton swab passes out.”
Rosie smiled, unlocking the door. “Goodnight, Katsuki.”
“‘Night, Pretty Girl.”
The airport was bustling with activity—families reuniting, travelers rushing to their gates, voices blending into the usual background hum of departures and arrivals. But for Rosie and Akira, the world had shrunk down to just the two of them.
Rosie sniffled, her oversized sweater swallowing her frame as she wiped at her eyes. “Is there no way to convince you to stay a bit longer?”
Akira let out a wet laugh, dabbing at her own tears with the sleeve of her hoodie. “No, I have work and school too, you know.”
Rosie pouted, shifting on her heeled boots as she crossed her arms. “You could always move to Japan.”
Akira grinned through the tears. “I promise to move here after we graduate.”
That only made Rosie’s lip wobble again. Akira reached out, squeezing her hands. “Now go before I drag you onto the plane with me.”
Rosie huffed, squeezing back. “I could say the same to you. You better go through security before I drag you back and force you to miss your flight.”
Akira let out another watery laugh before reluctantly releasing her. Taking a deep breath, she hoisted her bag higher onto her shoulder and gave Rosie one last, lingering look before stepping toward security.
Rosie stayed rooted in place, watching her best friend move through the line, waving every few steps. And then, finally, Akira disappeared through the checkpoint.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Rosie turned on her heel, heading toward the curb to hail a taxi. She had barely raised her hand when a familiar figure caught her eye.
Katsuki stood by his car, arms crossed, watching her.
Her breath hitched in surprise. He was leaning against the sleek vehicle, dressed in gray jeans, a fitted black t-shirt, and lace-up boots that somehow made him look even taller. His crimson eyes locked onto hers, unwavering.
“Katsuki?” Rosie asked, confusion lacing her tone.
He didn’t say anything at first, just opened his arms.
And that was all she needed.
She ran to him, tears spilling down her cheeks as she buried herself against his chest. His arms wrapped around her immediately, strong and steady, holding her as if he was the only thing keeping her upright.
“I knew you’d be crying,” he murmured, his voice gruff yet gentle. “And imagining you crying in a taxi is sad as hell. So I decided to skip class and come get you myself.”
Rosie let out a shaky laugh against his shirt, gripping onto him a little tighter. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, leaning down, pressing his chin to the top of her head. “Let’s get you home, Pretty Girl.”
The drive back to her apartment was quiet. Rosie sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, the exhaustion finally settling in now that her tears had dried. Katsuki had made a pit stop at her work to grab them coffee—something sweet and creamy for her, something dark and strong for him.
By the time they pulled into her parking spot, she felt drained but slightly more human. Katsuki was already out of the car before she could unbuckle, opening her door for her like it was second nature.
“Thank you again for coming to get me,” Rosie sniffed, clutching the warm coffee in her hands. “It would’ve been really pathetic to cry in a taxi.”
Katsuki snorted, taking a sip of his coffee as they headed for the elevator. “Just pathetic?”
She punched his arm. “Don’t be a grinch.”
“A grinch?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, a grinch.” She rolled her eyes, jabbing the button for her floor. “I have so much stuff to do, but honestly, I’m tempted to just crawl back into bed.” Rosie sighed, running a hand through her hair.
“You basically had a mini vacation,” Katsuki pointed out as the elevator doors slid open.
“A much-needed one,” she admitted with a soft smile, digging through her purse for her keys. She handed him her coffee for a moment as she unlocked the door, stepping inside and immediately typing in the security code for her apartment.
She barely had time to slip off her boots before Maya came barreling toward them, her little paws skidding against the floor.
The dog beelined past Rosie straight to Katsuki, wiggling with excitement.
“Little traitor,” Rosie muttered, taking her coffee back while Katsuki crouched to pet Maya.
“What’s up, lil swab?” He ruffled her fur, smirking when the dog practically melted under his touch.
Rosie, however, groaned at the state of her apartment. The mess from last night was still there—empty wine glasses, ice cream bowls, and cake plates cluttering the coffee table, a pile of laundry waiting to be done. After Akira left, she had no energy to deal with it. But now? Now it was taunting her.
With a sigh, she got to work. She made a beeline for her bedroom, gathering up her dirty clothes and tossing them into the washing machine. Then she moved to the living room, gathering the dishes and loading them into the dishwasher before wiping down the kitchen counters.
Katsuki watched her silently, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, sipping his coffee as she hustled around like a little storm.
Finally satisfied with the cleanliness of her apartment, Rosie grabbed her backpack, ready to tackle her homework. That is, until she felt strong arms wrap around her waist from behind.
“Katsuki?” she squeaked, instantly flushing as he pulled her back against his chest.
“You’re exhausted,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. “Come take a nap with me.”
Rosie wanted to protest, but her body betrayed her. The moment he said it, the weight of everything hit her all at once—crying, cleaning, barely sleeping last night. She was drained. And the idea of crawling into bed, warm and safe beside him, was way too tempting.
“…Only if we can study after chem class,” she muttered.
Katsuki chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
Without another word, he tugged her toward the bed, and she didn’t resist. Her blankets were still messy from last night, and she didn’t even care. Katsuki kicked off his boots, tossing his shirt aside before pulling her down with him.
The moment they hit the mattress, Rosie melted.
She curled into him instinctively, her cheek pressed against his bare shoulder as his arm draped over her waist. The warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest—it was grounding. Safe.
Katsuki shifted slightly, brushing his lips against the top of her head. “How was your night?” he murmured.
Rosie sighed sleepily. “Wine… ice cream and cake… sex and books…”
It was the last thing she remembered before passing out completely.
Rosie woke up to the steady warmth of Katsuki’s body pressed against her back, his arm heavy around her waist, his face buried in her hair. His even breaths tickled the back of her neck, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine.
She blinked sleepily at the clock on her nightstand. A little before twelve. If they didn’t get up soon, they’d be late for class.
“Katsuki,” she murmured, shifting slightly in his hold.
He didn’t respond, so she turned in his arms, facing him. His grip remained firm around her, but now she could see his face—relaxed, peaceful in sleep.
She bit her lip, resisting the urge to stare. He looked different like this. Softer. Less like the rough, sharp-edged person the world knew and more like the boy who held her while she cried, who bought her coffee, who skipped class just to make sure she didn’t have to ride home alone.
Her heart squeezed.
She reached out, hesitantly poking his cheek.
Nothing.
Grinning to herself, she poked him again. Then again.
Slowly, his red eyes cracked open, heavy with sleep, foggy and unfocused. He blinked at her for a moment before his lips curled into a slow, lazy smile.
“Go back to sleep,” he muttered, his voice deep and raspy.
Rosie nearly short-circuited.
Her stomach did a ridiculous little flip, heat creeping up her neck. She didn’t know what to do with the way his voice affected her, didn’t know how to handle the way he was looking at her—like he could stay like this forever.
She cleared her throat, trying to regain some composure. “We have class,” she said, poking him again. “And I’m starving.”
Instead of letting her go, Katsuki tightened his hold, yanking her closer so that their noses nearly touched.
“Give me a better reason to get up, and I’ll do it,” he murmured, his smirk lazy and knowing.
Rosie swallowed hard.
Her entire body was burning. She knew he was teasing her, but it still made her feel lightheaded, made her heart hammer against her ribs.
She wasn’t used to this. Wasn’t used to his casual, confident flirting, wasn’t used to being the focus of someone’s undivided attention like this. And the way he looked at her—like he knew exactly what he was doing to her—made it so much worse.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned forward, pressing a quick, feather-light kiss to the corner of his mouth.
The moment her lips brushed his skin, Katsuki’s entire body stiffened.
It was only a second—just a fleeting little kiss—but it was enough. Enough for him to loosen his grip on her in his surprise.
Rosie took the opportunity to escape, slipping out of bed as fast as she could, grabbing her things with burning cheeks.
Behind her, Katsuki groaned. “You’re a tease.”
She giggled, still flustered, ignoring the way her heart pounded as she hurriedly got dressed for class.
They barely had time to grab something to eat before class. Rosie bought a pastry and some fruit, while Katsuki grabbed an onigiri from the quad’s snack cart. They ate as quickly as they could, rushing across campus to make it on time.
By the time she slid into her seat in chemistry, she was still catching her breath.
Class had barely started when her phone buzzed.
Glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention, Rosie subtly pulled it out and checked the message.
Grinch: We’re going on a date tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at 7. Wear comfortable shoes.
Rosie’s breath caught.
A date? He planned a date for them?
Her face burned as she reread the message, something warm and unfamiliar curling in her chest.
She liked this. She liked how easily he took control, how he decided things for them without hesitation. It wasn’t in an overbearing way—it was just Katsuki being Katsuki. Confident. Unapologetic.
Rosie bit her lip, a shy smile tugging at her mouth as she tucked her phone away, trying (and failing) to focus on the lecture.
Tomorrow. She had a date with Katsuki tomorrow.
But first, she had studying and homework, game night and a breakfast date with her Dad before she could get to that date.
Notes:
Fund Fact 5? : My best friend and I started our tradition of having little book reads back before COVID, we were both seniors in high school and we would go book shopping together and eat nothing but ice cream and cake. I miss those times, since I don’t see her much now that we go to different universities and lived hours from one another.
Anyway sorry for the little sad rant. Thank you for all the support! Please let me know your thoughts!
Chapter 27: Best damn thank you he’d ever gotten.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki and Rosie sat cross-legged on the floor of his living room, takeout containers spread out between them as they worked through their homework. The smell of soy sauce and grilled meat lingered in the air, mixing with the soft scratching of Rosie's pen against paper.
Maya, the little cotton swab of a dog, zoomed wildly around the apartment—just running, not even being chased, just full of chaotic energy. Katsuki barely spared her a glance.
His attention was elsewhere.
Rosie.
She was fully absorbed in her chemistry homework, her brows furrowed in concentration, lips pursed slightly as she worked through a problem. She tapped her pen against her notebook every now and then, deep in thought, completely oblivious to the fact that he had been staring at her for the last ten minutes straight.
Katsuki barely noticed when his food container went empty. He didn’t even care that Maya had now resorted to running in circles around them. His entire focus was on the girl in front of him, on the way the soft light in the apartment made her look even more delicate, on the way she occasionally chewed on the end of her pen while lost in thought.
A nice way to spend a day in the middle of September.
Then, she suddenly sat up straighter and let out a satisfied sigh, stretching her arms over her head. “Finally done,” she mumbled, rolling her shoulders before looking up at him.
Her eyes met his, and she tilted her head in confusion. “What?” she asked, noticing his lingering stare. “Is something wrong?”
Katsuki blinked, realizing he’d been caught. He hadn’t even noticed that he never looked away.
He considered brushing it off, but then he remembered that stupid article he read the other day—the one about how to be a good boyfriend. Apparently, one of the tips was to make sure your girlfriend knew she was pretty.
Not that Rosie wasn’t already aware. She had to know, right?
Still, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to say it out loud.
“No,” he said casually, setting down his chopsticks. “You’re just really pretty.”
Silence.
Rosie’s face immediately turned a deep shade of red.
Her brain visibly short-circuited, mouth slightly parted as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t get the words out. Her hands twitched, and her entire posture stiffened like she had suddenly forgotten how to exist properly.
Katsuki smirked, thoroughly amused.
Her usual confidence had evaporated in an instant.
“Wh—” Rosie opened and closed her mouth, blinking rapidly, her face growing impossibly hotter. “I— you—”
She looked so overwhelmed that it made him chuckle.
“Oi, breathe,” he teased, watching as she buried her face in her hands with a whimper. “I didn’t say anything that crazy.”
“You—!” she squeaked, peeking at him between her fingers. “You can’t just— just say that out of nowhere!”
Katsuki leaned back on his hands, shrugging. “Why not? It’s true.”
Rosie made a noise of protest, turning her face away, visibly struggling to recover.
He chuckled again, taking another sip of his drink, entirely entertained.
After a moment, Rosie took a deep breath, still avoiding his gaze. “I’m done with my homework,” she muttered, fiddling with her pen as if that would ground her from the chaos he had just thrown her into. “Are you?”
Katsuki smirked, the amusement still clear in his eyes. “Yeah.”
She nodded, still refusing to look directly at him, her fingers tapping against the cover of her notebook in an attempt to distract herself.
Katsuki stretched his arms over his head before pushing himself up to his feet. “What time is everyone supposed to be here?”
“Seven,” he answered, gathering up the empty takeout containers and stacking them into the bag while Rosie tucked her books and notes into her backpack.
She glanced at the clock. “It’s six, so we have an hour until they get here.”
Katsuki tossed the trash into the bin before rubbing the back of his neck. “Wanna kill some time?”
Rosie slung her bag over the chair and gave him a curious look. “Doing what?”
A slow smirk crept onto his face. “Video games.”
Rosie blinked before she let out a small, delighted laugh. “You wanna play a game with me?”
He rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise.”
She beamed at him, her previous shyness momentarily forgotten. “Alright, but I’m warning you, I might kick your ass.”
Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” she teased, moving towards the entertainment console where his controllers were stored.
He watched her as she bent down, rummaging through the cabinet.
And then he saw it.
The way her tiny plaid skirt rode up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of soft pink lace.
His throat dried instantly.
Katsuki snapped his gaze away so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash, his jaw tightening as he suddenly found the ceiling incredibly interesting.
Shit.
He hadn’t meant to look. He really hadn’t.
But damn, now he couldn’t unsee it.
He ran a hand down his face, shifting on his feet as he made his way to the couch, forcing himself to act normal. Act casual. Like he hadn’t just gotten an eyeful of something he absolutely shouldn’t have.
A second later, Rosie plopped down beside him, oblivious, pressing a controller into his hand. “Alright, what should we play?”
Katsuki took the controller, exhaling through his nose. “Doesn’t matter, I’ll win whatever we play.”
Rosie grinned. “Guess we’re about to find out.”
Thirty minutes into their game, Katsuki sat back with a satisfied smirk, his grip on the controller relaxed as he dominated the match. Rosie, on the other hand, was hunched forward, her entire body tense as she furiously button-mashed, her eyes locked onto the screen with sheer determination.
Katsuki chuckled under his breath. She was trying so hard.
“C’mon, Rosie,” he drawled. “This all you got?”
She huffed, her frustration evident. “You’re cheating somehow!”
He scoffed. “Nah, you just suck.”
That was the last straw. With a determined glare, Rosie reached over, making a desperate attempt to swat the controller out of his hand.
“Katsukiiii—”
But in her reckless effort, she lost her balance. With a startled gasp, Rosie tumbled forward, her hands missing their mark entirely as she crashed into his lap.
Katsuki’s eyes widened, his controller slipping from his grasp as Rosie’s soft body pressed against him. Time seemed to freeze.
Rosie blinked up at him, her wide eyes filled with shock as she processed where she had landed. Her face burned as a deep blush spread from her cheeks to the tips of her ears.
Neither of them moved.
The air between them shifted, thickening with something unspoken as Katsuki’s gaze darkened, taking in the way she felt in his lap—warm, delicate, and completely frozen under his stare.
His hands moved before he could stop himself, one coming up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing over the heat of her skin. Rosie sucked in a breath, her eyes wide as she stared up at him.
“I’ve never been kissed before,” she suddenly blurted out, her voice rushed and embarrassed.
Katsuki’s lips twitched slightly, but there was no surprise in his eyes. He already knew. Akira had told him once—Rosie had never had a boyfriend before, never had experience with things like this. And for some reason, that made something deep inside him curl with satisfaction.
“I prefer it that way,” he murmured, his voice quiet yet firm.
Then, before she could react, he leaned in.
Katsuki’s fingers tangled into her hair, pulling her closer, his other hand settling firmly on her waist. He was holding himself back, keeping the kiss slow, though every fiber of him burned with the temptation to devour her.
How could he not?
Her lips were soft, warm, and sweet—tasting of strawberries and something undeniably Rosie. The scent of her skin, the way her breath hitched against his mouth, the delicate shiver that coursed through her body—every little detail was driving him insane.
He needed more.
With an effortless shift, he lifted her fully into his lap, her thighs straddling his as he adjusted her against him, molding her frame to his. The warmth of her body against his sent a shudder down his spine, his grip tightening around her waist as he fought the instinct to take too much, too fast.
Rosie was frozen at first, unsure, her hands hesitating before resting lightly against his shoulders. The hesitation in her movements, the innocent uncertainty, only made him want to ruin her even more.
Katsuki was patient, though, his lips brushing over hers in slow, teasing strokes, coaxing her to relax, to trust him.
Then, he nipped at her bottom lip.
The response was immediate.
A small, shy whimper escaped her, her fingers curling into his shirt as she slowly, tentatively parted her lips, granting him deeper access.
Katsuki groaned low in approval, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest as he finally took what she was offering. His tongue swept against hers, deliberate and slow, deepening the kiss as his hands roamed her waist before sliding down to her hips.
His grip tightened, fingers pressing possessively into the soft curves of her body.
Rosie let out another small sound, her breath shuddering as he consumed her. His hands flexed on her hips, adjusting her against him as he pulled her even closer, molding her body against his own. His grip was firm yet deliberate, memorizing the way she fit against him.
“Katsuki…” she whimpered, barely able to form words. “That was…”
She pulled back just enough to look at him, her lips swollen from his kisses, her pupils blown wide, her face flushed a deep shade of red. Her hair was mussed from his fingers running through it, and she clung to his shoulders as if she needed him to steady her.
“Was?” Katsuki prompted, his voice low, rough with lingering desire.
“Perfect…” she admitted, her gaze flickering away in embarrassment, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt.
A smirk played on his lips as he grabbed her chin, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to meet his eyes. “Perfect, huh?” he murmured, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip.
Rosie bit her lip and nodded, unable to find her voice.
The sight of her, so shy yet so completely affected by him, sent a rush of heat through Katsuki. He leaned in again, intent on capturing her strawberry flavored lips once more, needing to feel that warmth, that sweetness—
Ding-dong!
The doorbell rang, echoing through the apartment.
Rosie jumped in surprise, her body jerking away from him so suddenly that she lost her balance. In her haste, she slid off his lap entirely, tumbling onto the floor with a startled yelp.
“Rosie—shit!” Katsuki lunged to catch her, but she moved too fast, smacking the back of her head against the coffee table with an audible thud.
“Fuck—pretty girl, are you okay?” Katsuki crouched down next to her immediately, his hands hovering over her, unsure where to touch, wanting to check for any injuries.
Rosie let out a small whimper, both hands gripping the back of her head as she squeezed her eyes shut. “Y-Yeah,” she mumbled, voice slightly pained. “Just startled…”
Katsuki scowled, clearly unconvinced. He reached out, gently brushing her hair aside to check for any bumps. “You hit your head, dumbass. Let me see.”
Rosie shook her head quickly, waving him off with one hand while the other rubbed the sore spot. “It’s fine, really! Just go answer the door before they start ringing it again.”
Katsuki hesitated, his eyes narrowing. “You sure? You hit the damn table pretty hard.”
She mustered a small smile, still rubbing the back of her head. “I’ll live. Go before they start thinking something happened.”
Something did happen, but Katsuki decided not to point that out.
After another second of hesitation, he exhaled sharply, standing up and muttering under his breath. “If you get dizzy or some shit, you better tell me.”
Rosie waved him off again, and he shot her one last glance before heading toward the door. Unlocking it, he swung it open to see Kirishima standing there with his signature grin, bags of snacks hanging from his hands. Behind him, Mina, Deku, Uraraka, Todoroki, and Momo stood in a loose group, arms full of beer, more snacks, and several boxes of pizza.
“Yo!” Kirishima greeted cheerfully. “We come bearing gifts!”
Mina lifted a six-pack of beer with a smirk. “And bad decisions.”
Deku chuckled, adjusting his grip on a pizza box. “We figured you’d appreciate the extra food.”
Uraraka grinned, peeking past Katsuki. “Is Rosie here yet?”
Katsuki let out a slow breath, still vaguely irritated that their arrival had interrupted something, but he stepped aside, gesturing them in.
“Yeah,” he muttered, shooting a glance toward the couch where Rosie was still sitting on the floor, rubbing her head.
The moment Mina caught sight of Rosie, her eyes widened. “Wait—why are you on the floor?!”
Rosie turned a deeper shade of red. “I, uh… tripped.”
Katsuki smirked behind them but said nothing.
This was going to be an interesting night.
As everyone flooded into his place, chattering and laughing, Katsuki grabbed Kirishima by the collar and yanked him aside, slamming the door behind them. His grip tightened on his best friend's shirt as he pulled him in close, his crimson eyes flashing dangerously.
"I'm gonna fucking kill you, bastard."
Kirishima blinked, confused for half a second before his gaze flickered past Katsuki toward Rosie, who was still looking adorably flustered as she sipped from her pink wine glass. The way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, cheeks still tinged red, made it painfully obvious what Kirishima had interrupted.
“Oh.” Realization hit. “Oh.”
Katsuki snarled.
Kirishima held up his hands in surrender, barely hiding his amused grin. “My bad, man.”
Katsuki tightened his grip before shoving him back. “Interrupt again, and I’ll kill you.”
Kirishima laughed, rubbing his neck. “Duly noted.”
Still scowling, Katsuki stalked into the living room, his sharp gaze immediately finding Rosie again. She was surrounded by the girls in the kitchen, her pink wine glass cradled in her hand as she nibbled on chocolate-covered pretzels. The stupid cotton swab was showing off, spinning in circles and hopping on its back legs, trying to earn a treat from Mina. Rosie giggled at the sight, her laughter soft, completely oblivious to the way Katsuki’s entire focus was locked onto her.
His fingers twitched at his sides.
Fuck, he thought, swallowing down his frustration. He really wanted to kiss her again. Desperately. He needed to feel her against him, to pick up where they left off. Her warmth, her softness—it was still lingering on his skin, driving him insane.
Instead, he clenched his jaw and forced himself to look away.
Mina, Uraraka, and Momo were giggling about something as they set up the snacks, chatting between sips of their drinks. Kaminari was fiddling with his sound system, bobbing his head as he tested out different songs for their game night playlist. In the middle of the living room, Deku and Shoto were already setting up the coffee table, organizing their character sheets, dice, and pencils.
“Oi,” Katsuki called, stalking over. “You nerds ready?”
Deku looked up with a grin. “Almost! We just need to get everyone settled in.”
It took another fifteen minutes before everyone finally gathered in the living room, sprawling out on the floor with drinks and food. The coffee table was now covered in papers, dice, and mechanical pencils, the atmosphere shifting as they got into the game.
Katsuki sat with his back against the couch, arms crossed as he watched the others flip through their character sheets. Rosie sat beside him, her legs tucked underneath her as she studied hers, still sipping from her glass. He could see the light pink color left behind on the rim, the same shade as her lips.
Deku leaned forward behind his Dungeon Master screen, voice dipping into a dramatic tone as the flickering candlelight of the apartment made the scene feel even more immersive. Kaminari had switched the music to a soft, ambient track—something with the sounds of rustling leaves and a distant river running, adding to the atmosphere.
“In the beautiful country of Astela, under a dark and stormy sky, Katsuki, the lone adventurer, steps into a rundown building known as the Goblin Arc Tavern. The air is thick with the scent of stale ale and roasting meat, and the sound of raucous laughter and clinking tankards fills the room. But as you cross the threshold, something shifts.” Deku paused for dramatic effect, glancing at Katsuki over the top of his screen. “A powerful feeling comes over you.”
Katsuki frowned, gripping his dice. “Can I roll for insight?”
“Go for it!” Deku encouraged.
Katsuki rolled. The die tumbled across the table before landing on a number.
“…Five,” he muttered.
Mina burst out laughing as Deku grinned mischievously. “With a five, you have absolutely no clue why you feel this way. It gnaws at the back of your mind, distracting you throughout the night. You spend hours attempting to figure it out—watching the high elf barmaid move between patrons, pouring drinks, and smiling at weary travelers—but no matter how much you analyze, the answer remains just out of reach.”
Katsuki scowled, taking a sip of his beer. “Tch. Fine. I leave the damn tavern.”
Deku nodded, flipping to the next page of his notes. “You saddle up and ride out into the storm, setting up camp by the river the following night. The rain has lightened, and the forest around you is eerily silent. Stripping off your armor, you step into the cool water, letting it wash away the grime of travel. But just as you begin to relax—” Deku smirked, turning his gaze to Rosie. “You hear movement. And when you look up, you see her.”
Rosie’s eyes widened as she sat up straighter, her pink dice clutched in her hand. “Wait, I—”
“Yes, you,” Deku continued, his grin widening. “The high elf from the tavern, standing just a few feet away, her damp pink hair cascading over her shoulders, her bow slung casually across her back. But before either of you can react—an ambush.”
He clapped his hands together, startling everyone. “From the shadows, a pack of goblins leaps forward, their jagged weapons glinting in the moonlight. Roll for initiative!”
The table erupted into movement as Katsuki and Rosie grabbed their dice.
“Seventeen!” Rosie grinned.
“…Four,” Katsuki muttered, shooting an irritated glance at his die.
Deku stifled a laugh. “With lightning-fast reflexes, Rosie is the first to react. Without hesitation, she reaches for her bow—”
Rosie quickly rolled her d20 for attack, her pink die landing on a natural eighteen.
“Her arrows fly through the air with deadly precision,” Deku narrated, excitement clear in his voice. “Before the goblins even realize what’s happening, it’s over. Five bodies collapse into the dirt, their lifeless forms barely making a sound as they hit the ground.”
Momo clapped her hands together, impressed. “Nicely done.”
Rosie, pleased with herself, settled back against the couch. “That was easy.”
Deku turned back to Katsuki. “As the final goblin falls, you’re left standing there. Staring.”
Katsuki scoffed. “The hell am I staring for?”
Deku smirked. “Because you just realized something—you thought she was just a barmaid. A tavern wench with a pretty face. But this high elf, the one you couldn’t stop thinking about, just effortlessly took down five enemies without breaking a sweat.”
Katsuki’s jaw clenched, but he remained silent.
Deku turned to Rosie. “Your character lowers her bow, scanning the area for any remaining threats. The forest is quiet again, only the gentle rustling of the wind through the trees remains. You glance at Katsuki’s character—who, for some reason, is just standing there.”
Rosie smirked. “I raise an eyebrow and ask, ‘Were you planning to just stand there the whole time?’”
The group chuckled, but Katsuki only clicked his tongue, crossing his arms. “I scowl at her and mutter, ‘I left my weapons back at camp.’”
Deku chuckled. “Rosie glances at the fallen goblins, then back at you. There’s a flicker of amusement in her eyes. ‘Good thing I didn’t,’ she replies, slinging her bow back over her shoulder.”
Mina nudged Rosie. “Damn, girl. That was kinda smooth.”
Rosie giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Deku continued. “The silence between you stretches. The moonlight casts a soft glow over the clearing, highlighting the sheen of rain still clinging to Rosie’s skin. There’s a tension in the air—one that neither of you acknowledge, but it’s there.”
Katsuki sighed. “I mutter a quick thanks and go back to cleaning up. I’m not in the mood to deal with this.”
“Noted,” Deku said with a grin. “Later that night, when you return to camp, you notice something… unexpected.”
Katsuki arched a brow. “What now?”
“There’s an unfamiliar white horse grazing beside your dark steed, and across the fire, another bedroll has been laid out. You spot Rosie, cross-legged by the flames, braiding her hair while humming softly.”
Rosie perked up. “Oh! I tell him, ‘There’s a goblin nest not too far east from here. I tracked it and decided I’d much rather make camp with someone in case they decide to attack.’”
Katsuki stared at her for a moment before groaning. “I glare at her and say, ‘You could’ve just camped somewhere else.’”
Rosie smiles at him cheekily, “She simply shrugs. ‘You take first watch, then and goes back to reading her book.’”
Deku smiled, watching as the group settled further into their roles. “As the night goes on, the fire crackles, casting shifting shadows against the trees. Katsuki, as you lay in your bedroll, you can’t help but steal one last glance at Rosie. The flickering light dances across her features as she flips a page in her book, completely absorbed in whatever she’s reading.”
Katsuki shifted in his seat, rolling his dice absently between his fingers.
Deku leaned forward, lowering his voice. “For the first time since you met her… you wonder—who is she really?”
A beat of silence. Then—
Mina practically squealed. “Ohhh, the tension!”
Momo grinned. “This is getting so good.”
Rosie hid her face behind her character sheet, flustered.
Katsuki, meanwhile, only grunted, sipping his beer as if he wasn’t enjoying this more than he let on.
Deku grinned behind his screen.
This campaign was going to be fun, especially since he could flirt with her under the guise of their characters.
The game had been going on for hours, the table cluttered with character sheets, dice, and half-eaten snacks. Kaminari had switched the music again, this time to something softer, a melody of flutes and distant chimes that made the world Deku described feel all the more real. The warm glow from the lamp overhead cast a golden hue over everything, making the room feel almost dreamlike.
Katsuki sat back in his chair, chewing a bite of pizza as he listened to Deku narrate. His character, alongside Rosie’s, was currently traversing an old ruin deep in the mountains, torches in hand as they carefully stepped over the cracked stone floors. It was nothing new—just another mission, another battle waiting to happen. But as he stared at the map Deku had laid out, something felt… off.
A strange, creeping familiarity crawled up his spine.
The way Deku described the ruins, the way Rosie’s character hesitated at the entrance, the way Katsuki’s own character instinctively placed a hand in front of her as if to shield her from unseen danger—it all felt like he had done this before. Not just in another campaign, not just in some forgotten dream, but somewhere—somewhere he couldn’t place.
He shook his head, scowling to himself as he reached for another slice of pizza. Tch. I’m thinking too much.
At that moment, he felt something small and warm crawl into his lap.
The cotton swab—a fluffy white creature with tiny paws and droopy ears—curled up against him, its tiny body rising and falling with slow, content breaths. Katsuki barely reacted, only glancing down briefly before resting a hand over the small creature’s back, rubbing idly between its ears. Ripping a piece of pepperoni off his slice, he fed it to Maya who eagerly ate it before falling asleep in his lap again.
Beside him, Rosie was munching on some fruit, her legs tucked neatly beneath her. Katsuki didn’t even have to ask—he had bought that fruit for her, keeping it stocked just in case. It was one of her favorite snacks.
Deku’s voice faded into the background as Katsuki’s free hand drifted beneath the table. Without a word, without a glance, he found Rosie’s hand and laced his fingers through hers.
Her hand was warm, soft against his calloused fingers.
She didn’t pull away. She didn’t even flinch. She just kept eating her fruit as if nothing had changed, but her face became pink.
Katsuki smirked to himself, his grip tightening slightly. Careful. Subtle. No one else at the table noticed.
Katsuki walked beside Rosie, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie. The little cotton swab trotted ahead on its tiny legs, its fluffy body bouncing slightly with each hurried step. As soon as Rosie unlocked the door, the small creature darted inside without hesitation, disappearing into the apartment with a delighted bark.
Katsuki exhaled through his nose, stopping just outside her door. His crimson eyes flickered to her, scanning her face. “You sure your head’s okay?” His voice was gruff, but there was an edge of concern beneath it.
Rosie blinked, startled by the question. “Oh—” Her fingers instinctively went to the spot on the back of her head where she had hit it earlier. She hesitated for a moment before nodding, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “I’m fine now.”
Katsuki didn’t look convinced. His gaze lingered, intense as always, before he finally clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “Tch. If you say so.”
A brief silence settled between them.
Rosie shifted on her feet, playing with the hem of her sleeve. Then, with a deep inhale, she lifted her head, her blush deepening. “Um… Thank you for driving me home.” Her voice was quiet, shy.
Katsuki smirked. “You gonna start thanking me for every little thing now, princess?”
Rosie’s eyes widened slightly, her face growing impossibly red. “I-I was just trying to be polite—”
“Polite, huh?” Katsuki took a lazy step forward, closing the already small space between them. His voice dropped lower, teasing. “If you really wanna thank me, you could just—”
Before he could finish, Rosie grabbed the front of his hoodie and yanked him down. Katsuki barely had time to process what was happening before her lips crashed into his.
Shock jolted through him—Rosie had never been this bold before. For half a second, his brain short-circuited, his body frozen as her warm lips pressed against his own. But then instinct kicked in.
With a sharp inhale, Katsuki’s hand shot out, gripping the doorframe beside her to steady himself. His free hand hovered near her waist, his fingers curling as if fighting the urge to pull her closer.
Rosie, still holding onto his hoodie, trembled slightly as she realized what she had just done. But before she could pull away, Katsuki recovered.
A low growl rumbled in his chest as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss ever so slightly. His breath was warm against her lips, his touch still hovering—tempting but restrained.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, his lips barely brushing as he smirked. “Well, damn, princess.” His voice was husky, amused. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”
Rosie, still red-faced, refused to meet his eyes. “I—I just—”
Katsuki chuckled, his smirk widening. “Nah, don’t take it back now. You already kissed me.”
Rosie let out a tiny, embarrassed whimper before burying her face against his chest.
Katsuki let out another laugh, his grip on the doorframe finally loosening. Wrapping an arm around her, he tugged her close, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against the top of her head.
“Go inside before I change my mind and keep you out here all night,” he murmured, voice low against her hair.
Rosie, still burning with embarrassment, nodded quickly before scrambling inside, the door clicking shut behind her.
Katsuki stood there for a moment, staring at the door, running his tongue over his bottom lip. Then, with a smirk, he turned and walked back to his car, his hands sliding into his pockets.
Best damn thank you he’d ever gotten.
Notes:
I love DnD, the campaign they’re playing is familiar for a reason, iykyk💕 anyway thank for the love and support!
Chapter 28: You eat like a damn chipmunk
Chapter Text
Rosie lay sprawled across her bed, her arms wrapped tightly around her pillow as she stared up at the ceiling, heart hammering in her chest. Her fingers hesitantly brushed against her lips, the lingering warmth of Katsuki’s kiss still fresh against them. The memory sent a shiver down her spine, and before she could stop herself, a squeal bubbled out of her.
She immediately buried her face into her pillow, her entire body curling inward as if she could somehow contain the whirlwind of emotions inside her.
He kissed me.
Then—she had kissed him.
Her face burned at the realization, her hands clutching the pillow even tighter. I actually did that. I actually grabbed him and—oh my god.
Rosie turned onto her side, her legs kicking at the sheets as an uncontrollable giddiness overtook her. It wasn’t just any kiss. It was her first kiss. And it had been perfect.
All those years of reading romance novels—of sighing over stolen kisses in moonlit gardens, of love confessions whispered against trembling lips—none of them had prepared her for what a real kiss actually felt like. None of them could have captured the way her heart nearly burst from her chest the moment his lips pressed against hers, or the way his breath had hitched just before he kissed her back.
Rosie bit her bottom lip, eyes squeezed shut as if she could relive the moment all over again. How had she even found the courage to do that? I actually yanked him down and kissed him…
She let out another groan, rolling onto her stomach as her face grew impossibly hotter.
Where had that boldness even come from? She’d never been that forward before—ever. Maybe it was the way he had looked at her, all teasing and smug, that had sent something wild and reckless rushing through her veins. Maybe it was the way she had wanted to kiss him for so long that, in that moment, she simply couldn’t hold back anymore.
And then—he kissed her back.
Her legs kicked at the air again as she muffled a laugh into her pillow. Katsuki had been shocked. She had actually managed to catch him off guard. Hah! But then… oh, then he had melted into it, his grip tightening, his breath ghosting over her lips like he needed more of her.
The thought alone sent another wave of heat rushing to her cheeks, and she pulled the blankets over her head in a feeble attempt to hide from her own feelings.
How am I supposed to face him after that?
Just as that panicked thought crossed her mind, her door suddenly burst open, and Rosie nearly jumped out of her skin. Only to see it was Maya having the zommies as she jumped onto her bed only to jump back off and zoom out of her room.
As Rosie handed her menu back to the waiter, she flashed a polite smile. “I’ll have the stack of buttermilk pancakes with scrambled eggs and sausage, please.”
The waiter nodded before turning to Aizawa, who barely spared the menu a glance. “I’ll take what she’s having, but with bacon,” he said. His tired voice remained flat, but then he added, “Lots of bacon.”
The waiter scribbled down the order, pausing slightly as his gaze lingered on Rosie. With a charming smile, he said, “Great choice, miss. I—”
Before he could finish, the sudden clang of silverware hitting the floor made him jump. Aizawa had knocked his own utensils off the table, his expression unreadable as he looked at the waiter with mild disinterest. “I require new silverware,” he stated in a bored tone.
“C-Coming right up, sir!” The waiter scrambled to pick up the fallen utensils before hurrying away, his previous confidence replaced with frantic energy.
Rosie sighed, resting her chin in her palm. “You terrified that poor guy.”
Aizawa huffed, crossing his arms. “I’ll have him arrested.”
Rosie blinked at him, caught between amusement and exasperation. “Dad, he didn’t do anything wrong.”
“He flirted with you,” Aizawa grumbled, his gaze flickering in the direction the waiter had disappeared to. “That’s more than enough reason to warrant an arrest.”
Rosie let out a short laugh, shaking her head as she reached for her water. “I pity Eri when she starts dating. She’s going to have so much fun dealing with you.”
“No one will date Eri.” His response was immediate, firm. Then, he turned his sharp gaze on her. “Just like no one will date you.”
Rosie snorted, rolling her eyes. “I am a grown woman. I can date if I want to.”
Aizawa simply watched her, his expression unreadable, but there was something too observant about his stare. It made her uneasy. Finally, he asked, “So? Is there someone?”
The question nearly made her choke on her drink. She forced herself to stay composed, her fingers tightening slightly around her glass before she set it down. “No,” she answered easily, shrugging. “I’m not interested in anyone.”
The lie slipped past her lips effortlessly, and she was grateful that years of practice had made her such a convincing actress. There was no way she was about to tell her father that she had was not only dating Katsuki Bakugou, but she had kissed him on her doorstep last night. Absolutely not.
Not that she needed to. He was already threatening to arrest waiters just for looking at her.
“Regardless,” she continued, waving her hand dismissively, “you can’t just go around threatening to throw people in jail just for staring at me.”
Aizawa arched a brow. “I can.”
She groaned, rubbing her temples. “No, you can’t.”
He took a slow sip of his coffee before answering, “I can if I say I can.”
Rosie let out an exaggerated sigh, leaning back in her chair. “You know what? Instead of obsessing over my nonexistent love life, you should worry about your own.” She gave him a pointed look. “Maybe if you got yourself a girlfriend, you wouldn’t be so tense all the time.”
Aizawa’s expression didn’t change. “I’m not tense.”
“You are tense,” she argued, gesturing toward him. “You glare at waiters, threaten innocent people, and you barely sleep. When was the last time you went on a date?”
Aizawa’s eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, Rosie swore she saw the corner of his mouth twitch—whether in irritation or amusement, she wasn’t sure. “My personal life is none of your concern.”
Rosie smirked, knowing she had hit a nerve. “Exactly. And my personal life is none of your concern. So stop scaring away potential suitors and go get yourself a girlfriend already.”
Aizawa exhaled through his nose, clearly unimpressed with her logic. “That’s not happening.”
“Tragic,” Rosie said, resting her chin in her hand with a dramatic sigh. “At this rate, I’m going to have to set you up myself.”
Aizawa took another sip of coffee. “I’d arrest them.”
Rosie groaned. This was hopeless. “How is Eri?”
Aizawa took a sip of his coffee before finally answering her earlier question. “Eri’s doing well,” he said, setting the cup down. “She’s been enjoying school and making friends.”
“That’s good.” Rosie smiled, taking a bite of her sausage. “What about her training? Is she still working with Mirio?”
“She is. Her control over her quirk is improving,” Aizawa admitted, though there was a trace of worry in his voice. “She’s determined, but I still want her to take it slow. The last thing I want is for her to push herself too hard.”
“She’s got a good head on her shoulders,” Rosie reassured him. “She won’t do anything reckless.”
Aizawa sighed. “That’s what I hope.” He speared a piece of bacon before adding, “She’s also been pestering me about getting a phone for Christmas.”
Rosie perked up. “You should get her one. She’ll be eleven in December.”
“I knew you’d agree with her.” Aizawa shook his head, rubbing his temples. “You two are always ganging up on me.”
“Because we’re right,” Rosie said with a teasing grin. “Besides, it’ll be good for her. She’s at that age where she wants more independence. A phone will give her that while still letting you keep an eye on her.”
Aizawa sighed, clearly outnumbered even when Eri wasn’t here. “I’ll think about it.”
Rosie smirked, knowing that meant he was already considering it seriously.
Aizawa then set his fork down and looked at her, his expression shifting to something more serious. “There’s something else. Eri’s school is hosting a mother-daughter lunch.”
Rosie blinked. The words hit her harder than she expected.
Her mother used to go to those lunches with Eri. But now, with her mother gone, there was no one else—except her.
Rosie swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. “Text me the date and time. I’ll be there.”
Aizawa gave a slow nod of approval, as if he already knew her answer but needed to hear it out loud. “She’ll be happy.”
Before the conversation could go any further, the waiter returned with their food, setting the plates down quickly. Rosie noticed how he avoided making eye contact, his posture stiff, and she bit back a smirk. He must have recognized her father now.
Oh well. It’s not like she cared for his attention anyway. Not when she already had a boyfriend.
As they started eating, Rosie glanced at her father. “So,” she started, “now that I’m fully settled in Japan and you’ve been strengthening your quirk again after the war… have you thought about going back to Pro Hero work?”
Aizawa didn’t answer immediately. He took a bite of his bacon, chewing thoughtfully before finally speaking. “I have.”
Rosie raised an eyebrow. “And?”
“I still teach. And I still train the new generation of heroes,” he said, his tone neutral. “That’s just as important as being in the field.”
“I know it is,” Rosie agreed, cutting into her pancakes. “But you miss it, don’t you?”
Aizawa exhaled through his nose, swirling his coffee absentmindedly. “It’s not about what I miss. It’s about what’s necessary.”
Rosie rolled her eyes. “You always say that.”
“Because it’s true.”
She huffed. “Dad, your quirk is stronger than ever. You could go back if you wanted to. It’s not like you’re out of practice.”
Aizawa gave her a look. “I didn’t say I wasn’t considering it.”
Rosie blinked, surprised. “Wait—really?”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve thought about returning part-time. There’s… a need for more seasoned heroes in the field.”
Rosie softened. “And you still want to protect people.”
Aizawa didn’t respond immediately, but eventually, he nodded. “It’s what I do.”
She smiled. “Then you should do it. If it’s what you want, then go back.”
Aizawa smirked slightly, picking up another piece of bacon. “I appreciate your permission.”
Rosie laughed. “I’m just saying. You’d be amazing back in action.”
Aizawa glanced at her, a rare fondness in his gaze. “You’re a pain, you know that?”
“Of course,” Rosie said with a grin, taking another bite of her food. “Where do you think I got it from?”
Returning to her apartment, Rosie wasted no time stripping out of her uniform, sighing in relief as the tension from her shift melted away. She had barely two hours to get ready for her date with Katsuki—a date she had been looking forward to all week. Unfortunately, she had been called in at the last minute for work, and though she didn’t have to take the shift, she had agreed anyway since she hadn’t worked much recently. Now, however, she wished she had said no.
The shower was quick, the hot water soothing her tired muscles as she scrubbed away the lingering scent of coffee and pastries. Stepping out, she wrapped herself in a fluffy towel before making a beeline for her closet.
That’s when the real challenge began.
What do you even wear on a first date?
Rosie chewed her lip, staring at the array of clothes before her. She pulled out one outfit after another, holding them up to the mirror, only to groan and toss them aside. She had tried on at least five different combinations—skirts, jeans, a cute sweater, a blouse—before she let out a frustrated growl.
“Why is this so hard?” she muttered, hands on her hips as she glared at the mountain of rejected outfits.
Maya, curled up on her bed, twitched an ear but remained blissfully asleep.
Taking a deep breath, Rosie forced herself to calm down. She wanted to look nice for Katsuki—this was their first official date, after all—but she needed to stop overthinking.
Finally, her eyes landed on the dress. A soft pink number with delicate white lace, one that hugged her curves just right without being too much. Slipping it on, she stepped in front of the mirror, smoothing her hands over the fabric.
Perfect.
Satisfied, she moved on to her makeup, keeping it soft and natural—just a touch of blush, some mascara, and a final swipe of strawberry lip gloss. She quickly styled her hair, all the while keeping an eye on the clock.
As if on cue, the doorbell rang just as she finished.
Maya perked up, ears twitching before she bolted toward the door, tail wagging excitedly. Rosie barely had time to grab her heart-shaped purse, stuffing her phone and lip gloss inside before taking one last deep breath. Okay, you can do this. It’s just Katsuki.
But the moment she opened the door, her breath hitched.
Katsuki stood there, dressed in gray jeans and a fitted white t-shirt, layered under a gray and black long-sleeve. His usual sharp, red eyes softened slightly as they swept over her, taking in every detail.
Rosie felt herself freeze under his gaze.
He looked effortlessly handsome.
Too handsome.
Her heart pounded in her chest as warmth flooded her cheeks. She suddenly felt self-conscious under his stare, shifting slightly on her feet.
Katsuki stepped forward, closing the distance between them. His warm, calloused fingers reached up, gently grasping her face, tilting it slightly upward so she had no choice but to look at him.
His eyes darkened, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. “You are gorgeous.”
Rosie’s breath caught in her throat, her face burning at his words. Her hands clenched around her purse as she grew shy, completely flustered by his boldness.
Before she could even respond, Katsuki leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss. It was soft, lingering—nothing like the fiery passion he usually exuded. It was different from their first kiss, but just as breathtaking.
Rosie melted instantly, gripping onto the front of his long-sleeve for support. By the time he pulled away, her knees felt weak, her thoughts a complete mess.
“Ready to go?” Katsuki murmured, amusement laced in his voice at her dazed expression.
Rosie swallowed, trying desperately to compose herself as she nodded. “Y-Yeah…”
Katsuki chuckled, lacing his fingers with hers before leading her out the door.
Once Katsuki paid for their tickets and wristbands, they stepped into the amusement park, greeted by the familiar blend of neon lights, the roar of roller coasters, and the excited screams of people enjoying the attractions. The scent of popcorn and fried foods lingered in the air, making Rosie’s stomach rumble slightly.
She walked ahead of him, her arms crossed behind her back, eyes sweeping over the many rides. There were still a few they hadn’t gone on the last time they were here, and she was determined to check them off the list.
As her gaze wandered, she caught sight of the haunted house in the distance. Her stomach twisted, and she visibly flinched at the sight of it.
A low chuckle rumbled beside her. “Don’t worry, we’re not going to that attraction,” Katsuki smirked, stopping next to her.
Rosie huffed, tilting her chin up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, quickly looking away, pretending to examine the other rides.
Katsuki snorted, clearly unconvinced.
Wanting to change the subject, Rosie’s eyes lit up as she spotted the bumper cars. “That one looks fun!” she exclaimed, pointing towards them.
“Yeah, okay. Let’s go,” he grunted, already stalking forward. She eagerly followed, excitement bubbling in her chest.
They spent the next hour hopping from ride to ride, screaming and laughing as they made their way through the park. They raced against each other in the go-karts (Rosie barely won), got drenched on the log flume, and even challenged each other in the shooting gallery, where Katsuki, unsurprisingly, wiped the floor with her.
She blamed it on his Hero training.
Eventually, Rosie’s attention was caught by a ride she hadn’t seen before. It was one of those high-speed circle rides, the kind that spun wildly and forced the riders to hold on tightly.
“That one,” she declared, pointing.
Katsuki followed her gaze, instantly frowning. “No.”
Rosie blinked, caught off guard by his immediate rejection. “What? Why not?”
“You’ll only get hurt,” he grumbled, crossing his arms.
She scoffed, placing a hand on her hip. “Oh, please. I can handle myself.”
Katsuki opened his mouth to argue, but before he could stop her, Rosie was already marching towards the ride.
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before shaking his head. “Dumbass…” Still, he had no choice but to follow her.
They climbed onto the ride, choosing spots next to each other. The cold metal bar in front of them was the only thing to hold onto, and Katsuki leaned back casually, shooting her a knowing smirk.
“Hold on,” he chuckled.
Rosie shot him a glare, gripping the bar stubbornly. “I know how to hold on,” she muttered.
The ride started slow at first, rotating smoothly. Rosie could already see some people struggling to keep their grip, but she was fine. For now.
Then, she caught the wicked gleam in the operator’s eyes. The ride sped up.
Her fingers tightened around the bar as the force pressed her back, her arms shaking slightly as she fought to keep steady. The world became a blur of colors and flashing lights, and her confidence wavered as the ride only seemed to get faster.
The moment she felt herself slipping, panic flared in her chest.
Gravity won.
With a startled yelp, she lost her grip and fell—straight into Katsuki’s lap.
A deep, amused chuckle vibrated through his chest as his arm instinctively wrapped around her, keeping her securely against him. He held onto the bar with his other hand effortlessly, as if the ride wasn’t affecting him at all.
Rosie, now completely flustered, tried to shift, but his grip didn’t let her move an inch.
“Told you so,” he murmured, his smirk audible even over the sound of the ride.
Rosie, her face burning, muttered, “Shut up.”
Instead of looking at Katsuki, she focused on the chaos around them. People were sprawled across the floor like tumbleweeds, others desperately trying to claw their way back to the bars. It was a mess of tangled limbs and groans of exhaustion.
The ride finally came to a stop, and Rosie immediately straightened, feeling the weight of Katsuki’s smirk without even looking at him. She stubbornly avoided his gaze as they stepped off, her legs still tingling from the force of the ride.
As they strolled past various game booths on their way to the food stalls, Rosie barely spared them a glance—until her eyes landed on it. She stopped abruptly in front of a ring toss booth, her attention locked on the prize at the very top shelf. A plushie. A small, blonde Pomchi with an orange and black collar snugly wrapped around its neck.
“It’s adorable,” she whispered, her eyes shining with determination. “I want it.” Slamming her money into the vendor’s hand, she practically growled, “Give me the rings!”
The startled vendor hastily handed her the five weighted rings, clearly not wanting to test her patience.
Rosie inhaled, narrowing her eyes as she lined up her shot. She tossed the first ring. It bounced off the bottle. Her lips pressed together, but she shook it off. No big deal. She had four more.
She tried again. Another miss. Frustration curled in her gut, but she forced herself to stay calm.
The third ring landed on a bottle’s neck—but slipped off at the last second.
Her eye twitched.
The fourth? A complete miss.
The final ring… hit the bottle, spun in the air mockingly, and fell.
Rosie’s shoulders slumped.
“Sorry, miss,” the vendor said with a rehearsed smile. “No top-shelf prizes, but you can pick from the smaller ones—”
She pouted, sighing in disappointment. “It’s okay,” she muttered, about to turn away.
But before she could take a step, a firm grip caught her wrist. She blinked, turning back to see Katsuki.
His expression was unreadable, but his red eyes flicked to the vendor with a sharp look. “Give me the rings, you bastard,” he snapped, shoving money into the guy’s hand.
The vendor barely had time to react before Katsuki snatched the rings from him. Rosie could only stand there, watching in stunned silence as Katsuki effortlessly tossed the first ring.
It landed perfectly around the bottle.
The second? Another perfect shot.
The third, fourth, and fifth? Flawless.
The vendor gaped.
Rosie, still pink-faced, stared.
Katsuki grunted, grabbing the Pomchi plush off the top shelf and thrusting it toward her. His usual confidence wavered for a brief second as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.
“…Here.”
Rosie’s fingers curled around the plush as she accepted it, her heart fluttering. “Thank you.”
Before she could lose her nerve, she quickly stood on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.
Katsuki stiffened.
Rosie pulled away just as fast, averting her gaze as she hugged the plushie to her chest, her face burning.
She heard him cough, clearing his throat. “Why that one?”
Her fingers gently brushed over the soft fur. “…It reminded me of you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Then, before he could respond, she spun on her heel and started walking toward the food stalls. A beat of silence passed before she heard the unmistakable sound of disbelief behind her.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Katsuki demanded.
Rosie bit her lip, suppressing a giggle. “It reminds me of you,” she repeated, hugging the plushie to her chest.
“You think I’m this puny little runt?” His voice was gruff, laced with irritation, but she could hear the hint of underlying amusement.
Weaving through the crowd, she glanced down at the plush, her cheeks warm. “I find it cute. Just like you,” she admitted, her voice light and teasing.
A growl of protest sounded behind her. “I’m not cute.”
Before she could argue otherwise, a firm yet gentle grip caught her chin, tilting her face upward. Rosie inhaled sharply as she found herself staring into intense, smoldering crimson eyes.
Katsuki loomed over her, his gaze dark and unwavering. “You think I’m cute?” His voice was low, raspy—dangerous in a way that sent shivers down her spine.
Her breath hitched.
“I can show you cute,” he murmured, his face inching closer, the warmth of his breath fanning across her lips.
Rosie’s mind went blank. Her pulse pounded in her ears.
And then—A loud growl erupted from her stomach.
Her entire body went rigid. Katsuki froze. Rosie’s face turned crimson.
A moment of stunned silence passed before a deep, rumbling chuckle spilled from Katsuki’s lips. He pulled back slightly, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“Come on, pretty girl,” he said, still chuckling as he slid an arm around her waist, steering her toward the food stalls. “Let’s go eat.”
Rosie, mortified beyond belief, covered her face with one hand. “I hate myself,” she groaned.
Katsuki smirked, nudging her forward. “Nah. I like you just the way you are.”
The scent of grilled meat, fried dough, and sugary treats filled the air as they approached the food stalls. Rosie’s embarrassment was quickly forgotten as she eyed the various options, her stomach grumbling in anticipation.
“What do you want?” Katsuki asked, scanning the menus.
She hummed in thought before pointing at a takoyaki stand. “I want that.”
“Tch. Fine.” Katsuki ordered for them, paying before she could even attempt to pull out her wallet. She pouted, but he shot her a look that immediately shut down any protest.
They found a small table to sit at, Rosie eagerly popping a takoyaki ball into her mouth. “Mmm,” she hummed in delight.
Katsuki smirked, watching her with fond amusement. “You eat like a damn chipmunk.”
She glared at him, cheeks puffed out. “I do not,” she protested after swallowing.
He snorted, shaking his head as he dug into his own food. They ate comfortably, sharing occasional bites before moving on to grab drinks and something sweet—she insisted on trying the chocolate-dipped bananas, much to Katsuki’s skepticism.
Once they finished eating, they went on more rides. The night was winding down, the park lights glowing softly against the dark sky.
As they strolled toward the exit, Rosie suddenly stopped, her gaze locking onto something ahead.
The photo booth. The same one from last time.
She turned to Katsuki, eyes hopeful. “Can we take one?”
He followed her gaze, his expression unreadable for a moment before he simply nodded. “Yeah.”
Rosie grinned, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the booth. Excitement bubbled in her chest as they stepped inside, the curtain falling shut behind them. She quickly inserted the money and began tapping the screen to select the settings.
However, unlike last time, she didn’t trip and fall into his lap. Instead, Katsuki grabbed her hips and yanked her down onto his lap.
A startled gasp escaped her lips. “Katsuki?”
He smirked, his hands firm on her waist as he leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear. “Smile, pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice deep and teasing.
The first flash went off, capturing the moment perfectly—Rosie beaming, flashing a peace sign while Katsuki sat behind her, a rare, genuine smile on his face.
Before she could react, he turned his head and pressed a kiss to her cheek just as the second flash snapped. Rosie gasped, her eyes wide in surprise, her lips parted as she stared at the camera in shock.
Katsuki chuckled.
For the third photo, his hands shot up to her face, grabbing her cheeks and pinching them playfully. “Oi, stop makin’ that dumb face,” he teased. Rosie squeaked, swatting at his hands while laughing, her expression one of pure joy.
And then, just as she caught her breath, the fourth flash was about to go off.
Katsuki’s grip changed—his hands sliding to cradle her face as he turned her toward him and claimed her lips in a deep, hungry kiss.
Rosie whimpered into his mouth, melting instantly as he tilted his head, his tongue sweeping past her lips to taste her without hesitation. It was just like their first kiss—hot, overwhelming, consuming. She barely registered the final flash going off as she clutched at his shirt, her mind going blank from the sheer intensity of it all.
By the time he pulled away, Rosie was breathless, her cheeks flushed, her lips tingling. Katsuki, on the other hand, smirked. “That’s a good one,” he murmured before slipping out of the booth.
Rosie blinked, trying to gather her scattered thoughts. What just—?
Still dazed, she ran her fingers over her lips, attempting to compose herself before stepping out of the booth. His crimson eyes flickered to her, and his smirk deepened as he handed one of the film strips to her.
Rosie swallowed hard as she took it, her hands slightly trembling. She stared at the four pictures—her wide smile, her shocked expression, her playful laugh, and then… that kiss.
Her entire face burned.
“…You planned that, didn’t you?” she accused, voice flustered.
Katsuki only shrugged, shoving his copy into his pocket. “Maybe.”
Rosie groaned, pressing the strip to her chest. She was never going to recover from this.
Chapter 29: Drink up, grumpy pants<3
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie had been on her feet all morning, working tirelessly. The usual rhythm of the cafe had been thrown off balance today, leaving her busier than ever. After her lunch break, Shinso had generously paid for their weekly lunch, but that had been the only reprieve she had gotten. Kanako had been stuck in the kitchen making pastries—apparently, their other coworkers had completely neglected their duties, leaving the full responsibility to her. With Shinso assisting Kanako, the entire front-of-house work had fallen to Rosie. Between manning the register, cleaning tables, and ensuring customers were served promptly, she had barely had a moment to breathe, much less check her phone. She hadn’t even texted Katsuki back since this morning before she clocked in.
For some reason, the cafe had been busier than usual. Rosie suspected it had something to do with quarter exams, students pouring in for caffeine and comfort food to fuel their studying.
Balancing a tray of dirty mugs and plates, she carefully made her way toward the back, pushing open the kitchen door with her hip. Inside, Kanako and Shinso were covered in flour, laughing as they worked. Kanako’s blue hair was dusted with white, and Shinso’s usually tired expression was softened by the amusement dancing in his eyes.
Rosie raised a brow at them as she set the tray by the sink. “I hope some of that flour actually made it into the pastries.”
Kanako flipped her hair dramatically. “Of course it did.”
Shinso smirked as he brushed off his apron. “Customers are lucky we’re even making pastries at all.”
Rosie opened her mouth to reply, but the bell at the front of the shop chimed, signaling more customers. She sighed.
Kanako shot her a pitying look.
Rosie brushed a piece of hair behind her hair, “I wish our boss would hire more people.”
She snorted, shaking her head. “Doubt it. The asshole doesn’t want to add anyone else to payroll.”
Shinso finished dusting himself off. “We got most of the pastries done, so I can head back out to the floor.”
Rosie grinned mischievously. “Good. The men’s bathroom needs cleaning.”
The disgusted look on Shinso’s face had her giggling as she slipped back out to the front. Standing by the counter was one of the shop’s regulars—Riku, the one with the tattoo.
“Good afternoon,” Rosie chirped as she took her place behind the register. “Your usual?”
Riku let out a low, smooth chuckle. “Do I come here that much?”
“Yes,” she answered with a teasing smile. “Since April, one of my favorite regulars, really. I make a habit of remembering my regulars and their orders.”
He leaned casually against the counter, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Then I’ll take my usual. For here.”
“Would you like me to start a tab for you?” she asked, pulling out her pad.
Riku regarded her for a long moment before nodding. “Yes. That would be… lovely.”
She didn’t think much of the way his gaze lingered on her as she turned to prepare his large iced coffee and warm croissant. Once finished, she placed it on a tray and carried it over to where he had settled—a corner booth with his laptop open, a book and pens scattered across the table.
“You’re in luck,” she said with a bright smile. “Kanako made these fresh, so they’re still warm from the oven.” She held the tray to her chest. “Just let me know if you need anything else.”
Riku smiled at her, his eyes unreadable. “Will do.”
Rosie quickly made her way back behind the counter, exhaling as she re-applied her lip gloss and finally pulled out her phone to text Katsuki back. But before she could type out a single word, the bell rang again. With a sigh, she stuffed her phone back into her apron and pasted on a smile, only for it to become genuine when she saw who had walked in. Kirishima, Mina, Deku, Shoto, and Katsuki.
“Hey guys!” she waved, her tiredness momentarily forgotten.
“Rosie!” they all greeted her with smiles, except Katsuki, who remained silent, though his crimson eyes roamed over her, taking in her form.
She bit back a blush.“What are you guys doing here?”
Mina was the first to push up against the counter, slipping out from underneath Kirishima’s arm. “We’re all going swimming tonight, but you haven’t answered the group chat or any of our texts.”
Rosie sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Yeah, I’m sorry. It’s been super busy all day with just Kanako, Shinso, and me working. Between running the counter and cleaning tables, I haven’t had a chance to sit since twelve—much less check my phone.”
Kirishima frowned. “It’s already four.”
“Tell me about it.” Rosie let out a dramatic sigh.
Kanako came out of the kitchen, holding two trays of pastries and setting them on the back counter. “All because of a greedy asshole boss with even bigger asshole coworkers who hardly work.”
“I get out in an hour,” Rosie smiled. “So I should be able to go.”
“Yay!” Mina clapped her hands excitedly.
“What can I get you guys?” Rosie pulled out her pink sparkly pen and notepad.
“I want a brown sugar iced coffee with two pumps of cream and four pumps of syrup,” Mina said eagerly. “Ohhh! And a blueberry scone!”
“My usual,” Kirishima grinned as he pulled out his wallet and paid for both his and Mina’s orders.
Rosie quickly rang them up before turning to Izuku. “What about you?”
Izuku scratched the back of his neck. “Uh… a chocolate croissant and just a regular iced coffee with an assortment of macarons. Can I get that to-go? It’s for Uraraka, she gets off work in an hour too.”
Rosie hummed, writing it down before turning to Shoto, who blinked at her thoughtfully. “What would you recommend?”
“For drinks or pastries?” she asked with a smile.
“Both.”
She considered it before jotting down her suggestion. “I’d recommend a slice of our dark chocolate cake with a dark roast espresso.”
Shoto nodded. “Then I’ll take that.”
After processing their payments, Rosie watched them move toward a large booth. However, as she began preparing their orders, she noticed something, Katsuki had disappeared. Frowning slightly, she was quick to finish making their drinks and plating their pastries, boxing up a dozen macarons for Uraraka. She even added two extras of her favorite flavors for free, hoping it would brighten her friend’s day since she too was working. As she worked, her mind wandered—where had Katsuki gone? Balancing the tray of drinks and pastries, Rosie made her way over to the booth where her friends sat, placing each order down with a bright smile as she recounted them. Mina eagerly clapped her hands together when her brown sugar iced coffee was placed in front of her, and Kirishima grinned wide as he took his own drink.
“Thank you, Rosie!” Izuku beamed as he took the bag of macarons meant for Uraraka, while Shoto nodded in approval at the espresso and cake she had suggested.
“Anytime,” Rosie chuckled, stepping back just as she noticed Katsuki reappearing from the hallway where the bathrooms were.
He was already making his way to the counter, his crimson gaze locking onto her with an intensity that sent her pulse racing. When he finally reached her, he leaned in, his body blocking the view of their friends and the other customers. “You look tired,” he murmured, his voice rough yet quiet, just for her. His pinky brushed against hers, barely touching, yet the heat of it sent a shiver down her spine.
She straightened, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up her neck. “I am,” she admitted with a small smile. “I’m sorry for not being able to text you since lunch.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, his voice softer now, almost gentle. “I was more worried about you.”
Her heart skipped a beat at his words, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from turning into a blushing mess. “I’m fine, really. Just a bit tired from being on my feet all day.”
Katsuki exhaled through his nose, his fingers tapping against the counter near her hand, his touch just shy of making contact again. “We don’t have to go with them tonight if you’re too exhausted.”
“No,” she quickly reassured him, shaking her head. “I want to go. I just need some food, and I’ll be all good.”
His smirk was slow, knowing. “I’ll bring you food when I pick you up.”
Rosie felt her face heat at the way his voice dipped slightly lower, and she swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus. “That would be… amazing,” she murmured before clearing her throat. “Now, what can I get you?”
Katsuki leaned closer, his lips barely moving as he spoke. “A large black coffee… and an iced coffee for you.”
Rosie barely kept herself from gaping at him. He wasn’t even asking—just deciding. Like he knew her that well. Which, annoyingly enough, he did. She pursed her lips, trying not to let her flustered state show as she grabbed a cup and a sharpie, scribbling down the order before sending it back. Katsuki’s smirk didn’t waver, his eyes watching her every move like he could see right through her attempts to act normal.
A few minutes later, she brought his order to him at the counter, carefully placing the steaming black coffee in front of him. Instead of immediately leaving, she reached for his cup, casually lifting it to take a sip.
His eyes darkened, and his smirk widened. “Oh? Stealing my coffee now?”
Rosie huffed, setting the cup down and pushing it toward him. “Just making sure it’s not poisoned.” Then she grimaced, “I don’t understand how you can drink it black.”
Katsuki snorted, grabbing his cup, but then he noticed the sharpie scribbles on the side. He turned the cup slightly, reading: Drink up, grumpy pants<3
His brow twitched, and Rosie had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. She shot him a wink before turning away, missing the way he ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head with an amused scoff.
Just as she was about to check her phone for the first time in hours, a familiar voice called her name. “Rosie.”
She turned, instantly recognizing Riku sitting at his booth. His dark eyes held something unreadable, though there was a flicker of annoyance in them. She quickly wiped her hands on her apron and approached him with a polite smile. “Need a refill?”
“Yes.” His voice was smooth, measured, but something about the way he was watching her made her shift slightly.
“Got it,” she said, taking his cup and heading back to the counter. She made quick work of refilling it, making sure it was just as he liked it before bringing it back. “Here you go.”
Riku gave a small nod, his fingers wrapping around the cup, his fingers grazing hers, but his gaze flickered behind her. She followed his line of sight for only a second before realizing—he was looking at Katsuki. And Katsuki was already staring at him. The tension was immediate, crackling like a live wire.
Rosie didn’t acknowledge it, instead giving Riku a quick, “Let me know if you need anything else,” before spinning back toward the counter.
She could feel the weight of Katsuki’s glare as she returned, but she ignored it, opting to take another sip of her iced coffee that he paid for.
Katsuki exhaled sharply, his hand flexing against his cup before he finally muttered, “Fucking extra.”
Rosie nearly choked on her drink, barely managing to hide her laughter. “Jealous?” she teased in a whisper.
Katsuki scoffed but didn’t answer, instead sipping his coffee, his sharp eyes never once leaving Riku’s table. She watched as Katsuki joined their friends at the booth.
Rosie knew better than to press, but inside, she couldn’t help but find it amusing—just a little. Especially since there was no reason for him to be jealous since Riku wasn't interested in her, and she had a crush on him months ago. A silly school girl crush that had never gone anywhere.
Shinso had come from downstairs holding a tray of mugs and stopped to talk to Izuku and the others just as she turned to place all the pastries that Kanako brought from the kitchen and into the display case. Then another customer came in, another regular of theirs. A college student with short white hair, skin pale as snow, but his eyes were the brightest green she had ever seen.
"Rosie," he greeted. "The usual please."
"Of course! Coming right up!"
The summer evening air was thick with the lingering heat of the day, but inside Katsuki’s car, the cool air conditioning hummed softly, bringing Rosie a welcomed relief. She sat in the passenger seat, legs crossed, the fabric of her oversized t-shirt barely covering the soft curve of her shorts. The scent of toasted bread and fresh berries filled the small space, making her stomach growl in appreciation.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” she murmured, popping a blueberry into her mouth as she glanced at Katsuki, who was focused on the road.
His grip on the wheel was relaxed, but his jaw twitched like he was holding back a smirk. “You eat like shit when you’re working. Figured you’d need something good before swimming.”
Rosie hummed, tearing off a piece of her sandwich and taking a bite. The combination of prosciutto, avocado, melted mozzarella, and crispy bacon hit her taste buds in a wave of salty and creamy perfection. She chewed slowly, eyes flicking to Katsuki again, realization dawning.
She had ordered this sandwich once—just once—during their first week of knowing each other.
The thought made her stomach twist, not just from hunger but from something softer, warmer. He had remembered.
“You’re staring,” Katsuki muttered without looking at her, but the corner of his lips quirked up.
Rosie rolled her eyes and shoved another piece of sandwich into her mouth, chewing in defiance. “I just didn’t think you paid attention.”
He scoffed. “Tch. I pay attention to everything.”
A blush crept up her neck, and she quickly busied herself with her fruit salad, stabbing a raspberry with unnecessary force. Katsuki chuckled, low and rough, clearly amused at her reaction.
The drive to Momo’s wasn’t long, but every passing second made her more aware of what awaited them. They couldn’t be what they were in front of their friends. No stolen glances, no teasing brushes of fingers, no low murmurs of affection meant for only each other. Just best friends. Nothing more.
As they pulled into the long driveway of Momo’s estate, Rosie let out a slow breath, preparing herself.
“You ready, princess?” Katsuki smirked as he parked the car, fingers drumming once against the steering wheel before shutting off the engine.
Rosie shot him a look. “Don’t call me that where they can hear.”
He only grinned wider. “Better get out before I do then.”
Rolling her eyes, she unbuckled her seatbelt, but just as she opened the door, a shriek split the air.
“Rosie!”
Before she could even react, Mina and Jirou were on her, grabbing her hands and yanking her away from the car. She barely had time to stumble out before she was being rushed up the front steps, their chatter rapid-fire in her ears.
“We need to change now!” Mina declared.
“The guys are already in the pool,” Jirou added, tugging her along. “You’re not getting away with hiding in a big T-shirt the whole time.”
Rosie barely managed to look back, catching Katsuki’s smug expression as he leaned against his car, watching her get practically abducted. He winked.
She scowled.
Mina and Jirou practically shoved Rosie through the doorway, their grip firm as they dragged her inside. The bedroom was spacious, but the chaos inside made it feel smaller. Clothes were strewn across the bed, bottles of sunscreen and hair ties were scattered on the dresser, and the sound of excited chatter filled the air.
Uraraka, Momo, Tsuyu, and Tooru were already inside, halfway into their swimsuits. Momo, ever graceful, adjusted the straps of her elegant dark red bikini while Uraraka struggled with tying the strings of her pink and green polka dot bikini behind her neck, Tooru giggled as she seemingly floated in place, already dressed, and Tsui calmly smoothed down her towel before blinking at Rosie.
“There you are,” Tsuyu said, tilting her head. “Took you long enough.”
“I was eating,” Rosie defended, even as Mina wasted no time pulling at the hem of her oversized T-shirt.
“Yeah, yeah, time to get rid of this,” Mina grinned, lifting it up.
“Wait—!” Rosie barely had time to react before her shirt was yanked over her head, exposing the bikini underneath.
The room erupted into cheers.
“Damn, Rosie,” Jirou smirked, looking her up and down. “Didn’t think you’d go for something like that.”
Rosie flushed, crossing her arms over her stomach. She had picked out a pink bikini with little red hearts, the top snug with thin straps that criss crossed behind her back, and the bottoms sitting a little lower than she was used to. She felt exposed under their gazes, even if she knew it wasn’t revealing compared to Mina’s or Tooru’s more daring choices.
“You look amazing!” Uraraka clapped her hands together, eyes sparkling.
“She does,” Momo agreed with a kind smile. “It really suits you.”
Rosie felt her blush deepen. “You guys are making this a bigger deal than it is.”
“It is a big deal,” Mina wiggled her brows. “Especially when a certain someone is going to see you in it.”
At that, Rosie’s stomach twisted. She knew exactly who Mina was talking about, and judging by the mischievous glint in her eyes, she wasn’t going to let it go.
Jirou smirked, catching on. “Oh yeah. Bet he’ll be real quiet when he sees you in that.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Rosie lied, focusing way too hard on adjusting her bikini top.
Mina gasped dramatically, placing a hand on her chest. “Are you saying you’re not interested in seeing a certain spiky-haired, angry explosion boy’s reaction?”
“Mina.” Rosie shot her a look.
“Oh, come on,” Tooru giggled. “You two have been close since you arrived, you don’t think he’s gonna say anything when he sees you like this?”
“He’s not gonna say anything,” Rosie muttered, though deep down, she wasn’t so sure. Katsuki wasn’t the type to be obvious around their friends, but she knew him. She knew the way his eyes lingered, the way his jaw ticked when he got annoyed—or when he was holding something back.
“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Mina sing-songed.
Before Rosie could protest, Uraraka grabbed her hand. “Come on, let’s put on some sunscreen before we go down.”
Mina gasped. “Yes! Protect the skin at all costs.”
The girls continued their chatter, passing around the sunscreen while Rosie sighed in resignation, knowing full well that once they stepped outside, all eyes—especially a certain crimson pair—would be on her.
Notes:
My favorite sandwich, I recommend it to anyone who loves sandwiches<3 and the chocolate cake with dark roast espresso, basically you guys should just try a lot of the things that I have written in the fanfic when it comes to food :)
Chapter 30: I’ll make sure you don’t make it outta this pool conscious, you little shit.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki took a slow sip of his beer, eyes narrowed as he stood on the wooden patio of Momo’s massive backyard. The place was impressive—because, of course, it was. Momo lived in a damn mansion, and her backyard was like something out of a five-star resort. The pool stretched wide, its crystal-clear water reflecting the golden hues of the setting sun. The wooden patio wrapped around most of it, leading to an outdoor kitchen and bar where drinks and snacks were already set up. Built-in speakers lined the area, filling the air with Kaminari’s music choices. Neon lights were installed around the pool, but they wouldn’t turn them on until the sun fully set.
Most of Class 1-A was already outside, some lounging on pool floats, others nursing drinks and talking in groups. It was laid-back—relaxing, even—but Katsuki wasn’t.
His jaw clenched as his mind wandered back to earlier at the café. When Mina had suggested checking in on Rosie, he hadn't hesitated to tag along—not that anyone questioned it. He had played it off like he needed coffee after a late night. The truth? He had been on a date with Rosie, hidden away from their nosy friends. They had spent hours together, but by morning, he had to go back to pretending.
And yet, when he saw her behind the counter, looking exhausted but still effortlessly gorgeous, it had nearly wrecked his composure. The only way to keep himself in check was to leave for the bathroom before anyone noticed how damn flustered he was.
Then she went and pulled that shit with his coffee.
The little heart on his cup. The lingering taste of her strawberry lip gloss after she stole a sip. He had wanted to drag her across the counter and kiss her until she was breathless and made those cute little whimpers.
His fingers tightened around his beer bottle. His mind drifted to that stupid uniform of hers—her fitted shirt, that ridiculously short skirt. He didn’t know whether to hunt down her boss and thank him or blow the whole damn place up.
And then there was that bastard who wouldn’t stop staring at her.
Katsuki wasn’t an idiot. He knew when a guy was looking at a girl the way he himself had looked at Rosie a hundred times before. And that asshole had been eating her up with his eyes like he had a right to. He had barely held himself back from launching an explosion across the counter.
He gritted his teeth.
"Dude, you okay?"
Kirishima’s voice snapped him back to reality. His red-haired friend stood beside him, beer in hand, wearing red swim trunks and a knowing smirk.
"Yeah," Katsuki grunted, taking another swig of his beer.
Kirishima gave him a pointed look. "You’ve got that same murderous look in your eye from earlier. This about that one dude at the café?"
Katsuki clenched his beer bottle. "No."
"Right," Kirishima snorted. "Just say you're jealous, man."
"I’m not jealous," Katsuki insisted immediately. "Why the hell would I be jealous of some fucking old man civilian that reeks of loser?"
Kirishima raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.
Katsuki ignored him, trying to push the thoughts from his mind. But then another one hit him like a ton of bricks—Rosie had brought an overnight bag. She was staying here. Which meant he wouldn’t be able to be alone with her until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest.
Fuck.
He groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. He didn’t know how he was going to survive the next twenty-four hours with her parading around in a bikini and pretending they weren’t together.
Before he could spiral further, Shoto spoke up from where he was standing near the edge of the pool. "We should play a game," he suggested in that calm, monotone way of his.
"What kind of game?" Kaminari asked, flipping through music on his phone.
"Volleyball," Shoto said. "In the pool. Teams of four."
"That actually sounds fun," Kirishima grinned.
"Alright, teams," Iida said, ever the strategist. "My team will be myself, Midoriya, Shoji, and Mineta."
Katsuki snorted. "Fine. My team is me, Icy hot, Kirishima, and Tokoyami."
With the teams set, they moved into the pool, the water refreshingly cool as they started the match. It wasn’t long before Katsuki got into it, spiking the ball with enough force to make Kaminari flinch even from the sidelines. The game was intense, competitive, and filled with a ridiculous amount of unnecessary shouting—mostly from Katsuki and Izuku.
They were halfway through when the girls finally emerged from the house, carrying bowls of fruit, chips, and ice cream.
Every single guy stopped.
Mineta was the first to react—unfortunately. His face turned red, a stream of blood trickling from his nose as he started mumbling to himself. "Th-they’re all so—so—"
His beady eyes locked onto Rosie, who was walking beside Mina, laughing at something Uraraka said. She looked stunning—Katsuki had known she would—but seeing her now, the way her pink bikini with red hearts hugged her figure, her pale skin glowing in the sunlight…then he felt his throat go dry.
She had a belly button piercing, it was silver with a pink jewel and dangled against her navel. Was it a swan?
He wanted to touch it. He wanted to drag her away from everyone and kiss her senseless.
Mineta, on the other hand, had other things to say. "I don’t know who to look at more…” Mineta muttered as he began to salivate. "Mina’s hips, Momo’s tits… or even Rosie’s thig—"
A volleyball smacked into his face at full force.
"That’s my girlfriend," Kirishima deadpanned, shaking his head.
Before Mineta could respond, Shoji grabbed him and held him underwater for a good ten seconds.
Katsuki barely paid attention. His eyes were locked on Rosie. She was smiling, eyes bright, completely oblivious to the fact that every guy (the single ones) had stopped just to look at her. And she had no idea how much he wanted her.
Mineta wasn’t wrong—Rosie did look incredible. But that didn’t mean the little perv had any right to ogle her so openly.
Still, as much as he wanted to strangle Mineta, all thoughts faded as Rosie finally glanced his way. Their eyes met. Her cheeks flushed.
And Katsuki?
He is completely fucked.
Katsuki sulked, arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair, his beer in one hand and a handful of chips in the other. He wasn’t even hungry, but it gave him something to do other than brood over the stupid volleyball game. Totally not because he’d been too distracted staring at Rosie in that damn bikini.
He tore his gaze away from her, forcing himself to focus on the game of cards Kirishima, Tokoyami, Sero, and Iida were playing. But even then, his body was annoyingly aware of her presence across the pool, like some supernatural instinct refusing to let him ignore her.
The sound of excited footsteps broke his brooding.
“Let’s play chicken!” Mina squealed, running over and plopping herself into Kirishima’s lap, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.
“Hell yeah!” Kirishima grinned, lifting her up effortlessly. “We’re not losing!”
Uraraka and Deku paired up quickly, followed by Tsui and Tokoyami, Toru and Ojiro, and Kaminari with Jirou. The only couple left was Momo and Icy Hot, which left an opening Katsuki wasn’t about to ignore.
He stood, setting his beer down before strolling over to where Rosie sat with the other girls. She blinked up at him, startled when he leaned down, his voice low enough just for her.
“Come on, pretty girl,” he murmured.
Rosie’s lips parted slightly, and he swore he could see the exact moment her brain short-circuited. Still, after a beat, she nodded, following him into the water.
Once they waded deep enough, Katsuki turned to her. “Stand in front of me,” he instructed, his voice firm.
Rosie did as he said, her back facing him. The moment his hands found her hips, she let out a tiny gasp, her fingers twitching in surprise. With ease, he lifted her onto his shoulders, smirking at the little squeal she let out.
Knew it. She was definitely blushing.
“We’re winning this,” he stated confidently, his grip steady on her thighs. “No damn way I’m letting us lose.”
Rosie, now perched on his shoulders, caught onto his energy, grinning down at the other teams. “Alright, let’s take them down.”
The game began with Mina and Kirishima challenging them first. Mina lunged at Rosie, arms reaching forward, but Katsuki adjusted, stepping back just enough for Rosie to counter. With a quick push, Mina tumbled backward with a yelp, Kirishima barely catching her as they crashed into the water.
“Nice one,” Katsuki smirked, tilting his head up toward Rosie.
She beamed down at him, her excitement growing. “Let’s go!”
One by one, they took down the other teams. Tsui proved to be tricky with her balance, but Rosie managed to knock her off Tokoyami’s shoulders with a well-aimed shove. Kaminari and Jirou were next, but Kaminari lost his balance when Jirou got too competitive, making it easy for Rosie to push her off.
Finally, it was just them against Uraraka and Deku.
Deku was strong, his footing solid, and Uraraka had a good center of gravity. The match dragged on longer than the others, water splashing around them as the girls locked hands, pushing against each other.
“Hold on tight,” Katsuki growled up at Rosie.
She barely had time to brace herself before he surged forward with a powerful step, throwing Uraraka off balance just enough for Rosie to push her.
With a surprised yelp, Uraraka toppled backward, taking Deku down with her.
“WE WON!” Rosie cheered, throwing her arms up.
Katsuki smirked, triumphant. “Damn right we did.”
Before she could celebrate further, he smirked up at her.
“Oi, Rosie.”
“Hm?”
With zero warning, he let go of her legs and dunked her into the water.
A shriek escaped her just before she disappeared beneath the surface. When she popped back up, spluttering and gasping, everyone around them burst into laughter.
“KATSUKI!” she shrieked, pushing her soaked hair out of her face.
“What?” he grinned. “We won, didn’t we?”
Before she could retaliate, Kaminari’s voice rang out.
“I’m ordering pizza! Everyone tell me what they want!”
While the others got out of the pool to where Laminari had his phone out, Katsuki waded closer to Rosie. She was still glaring at him, but her pouty lips and wet hair only made her look even more irresistible.
Taking advantage of the moment, he leaned in, tilting his head just slightly before brushing his lips against the corner of her mouth.
Rosie froze.
He pulled back just enough to see the wide, shocked look in her eyes. His smirk deepened.
“You’re cute when you’re mad,” he murmured, low enough for only her to hear.
Her face turned bright red. Without a word, she lifted her hands and covered her burning cheeks, quickly turning away from him.
Katsuki chuckled, stepping back to put space between them before anyone noticed just how flustered she was.
Yeah. Totally worth the loss in volleyball.
The party was in full swing. The sun had begun its slow descent, casting a golden glow over Momo’s massive backyard. The outdoor sound system blasted Kaminari’s playlist—thankfully, it wasn’t all terrible this time—and neon lights were already beginning to flicker around the patio and pool. The smell of pizza and grilled food filled the air, mixing with the scent of chlorine and sunscreen.
Rosie floated lazily on a pool float, wine glass in hand, chatting with Shoji, Sero, and Toru. At least, he assumed Toru was there since he couldn’t see her, but a pool noodle bobbing nearby suggested her invisible presence.
Shoji’s voice rumbled as he spoke, his dupli-arms keeping him effortlessly afloat. Sero cracked a joke, making Rosie laugh, while Toru waved her pool noodle animatedly.
Meanwhile, chaos was brewing on the roof of the outdoor bar.
“Watch this, guys!” Kaminari shouted, standing alongside Kirishima, Izuku, and Tokoyami.
With a running start, Kaminari launched himself off the roof, flailing dramatically before belly-flopping into the pool. A massive splash erupted, sending a tidal wave of water in every direction.
Shoji barely had time to react, his dupli-arms expanding to shield Rosie and Toru from the worst of it.
Everyone cheered, laughing as Kaminari resurfaced with a dazed grin. “Nailed it!”
“You looked like a dying fish,” Jirou snorted from where she lounged on a pool chair, sipping from her drink.
“You guys are gonna break something,” Iida scolded from the patio, hands on his hips.
“Yeah, our records for the best pool stunts!” Kirishima grinned, cracking his knuckles. “My turn!”
Kirishima took his own running start and leaped off, activating his Hardening Quirk mid-air before hitting the water like a cannonball. The impact sent another monstrous wave rippling across the pool.
“You’re gonna flood the backyard, dumbass!” Katsuki yelled, shaking water out of his hair.
From the grill, Momo sighed. “I swear, if any of you break something, I’m not healing it.”
“More for Recovery Girl, then!” Kirishima laughed, swimming over to Kaminari and throwing an arm around his shoulder.
The rest of the class was engaged in their own antics.
Momo and Ida were manning the grill, flipping burgers and hot dogs while also attempting to keep Mineta away from the food before it was ready. Sato had taken over dessert duty, setting up an ice cream bar with different toppings. He was currently explaining to a very intrigued Koda how to make the perfect sundae.
Ojiro and Shoji had moved to having a low-key conversation about training while sipping on cold drinks, occasionally watching the madness unfold.
Uraraka and Mina were having an intense chicken fight against Jirou and Tooru, both duos laughing as they tried to knock each other off their partners’ shoulders. Deeming that girls vs girls was more important. Whatever the hell that meant. Deku was busy dodging a relentless splash attack from Tsui, who was using her tongue to send water at him from different angles.
Kaminari, still dripping from his stunt, had started a water gun battle with Sero, both of them ducking behind floaties for cover. Mineta, meanwhile, was trying (and failing) to convince anyone to let him be on their chicken fight team. “Come on, guys, I have the perfect strategy!”
“Yeah, it’s called ‘being a pervert,’” Jirou deadpanned, flicking water at him.
Katsuki leaned against the edge of the pool, beer in hand, watching Rosie with a mix of amusement and frustration. She looked way too good lounging on that damn floaty, wine in hand, laughing at something Sero said.
His grip on the bottle tightened. She was having fun, completely at ease—but damn it, he wanted to be the one making her laugh like that. His thoughts were interrupted when Izuku took his turn jumping off the roof.
“Midoriya, no—” Iida began, but it was too late.
Izuku leaped, twisting mid-air before executing a perfect splashless dive into the water.
A brief moment of silence followed before a loud roar of cheers erupted.
“SHOW-OFF!” Kaminari called.
Izuku resurfaced, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “Ahaha, well…”
Not to be outdone, Tokoyami stepped up next.
“Dark Shadow, assist me.”
With a dramatic flourish, Dark Shadow emerged, wrapping around him as he leapt into the air, making it look as though he had wings before he plunged into the water.
“Dramatic much?” Sero teased as Tokoyami swam back up.
“It’s called style,” Tokoyami replied smoothly,
Rosie giggled, shaking her head. “This is the most unhinged pool party I’ve ever been to.”
Sero grinned. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
At that exact moment, Mineta attempted to climb onto Kirishima’s back, only to be unceremoniously thrown into the deep end. Shoji sighed before using one of his dupli-arms to pluck him out and dangle him from the tree like some kind of pinata.
Katsuki exhaled, shaking his head. He was gonna need another beer.
Momo’s backyard lit up with neon glow from the outdoor lights. The pool shimmered under the soft blue and purple hues, and the speakers played a mix of Kaminari-approved party music at a reasonable volume now that everyone was more focused on eating than causing chaos.
The long patio table was covered in an assortment of food. Plates stacked with burgers, hot dogs, and grilled veggies sat alongside open pizza boxes, their cheesy aroma filling the air. Sato had set up an ice cream bar, and the occasional clinking of spoons against bowls filled the gaps between conversations.
Rosie sat on one of the lounge chairs, legs curled under her as she munched on a slice of pizza. Across from her, Kaminari and Jirou were arguing over the best pizza topping combination, while Shoji quietly listened, occasionally nodding.
Further down the table, Kirishima was in a heated discussion with Iida about whether or not eating five burgers in one sitting was an acceptable challenge.
“I’m telling you, man,” Kirishima said between bites, “it’s all about the protein intake.”
“It’s about the health risks!” Iida countered, waving a napkin in emphasis.
Meanwhile, Katsuki sat at the end of the table, leaning back with his arms crossed, surveying the scene. His plate was empty save for a few stray crumbs, his beer in hand as he observed everyone with a faint smirk.
Rosie hesitated before standing, dusting off her hands, and walking toward the small table set up under the patio lights where Kirishima, Mina, Sero, Shoto, and Momo were gathering for a poker game.
“Hey, um…” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Can I join you guys?”
Mina beamed. “Of course, babe! The more, the merrier.”
“Do you know how to play?” Sero asked, shuffling the deck with practiced ease.
Rosie hesitated before shyly admitting, “Not really… I’ve never played before.”
Katsuki snorted from his seat, catching her attention. “Tch. Then sit next to me,” he said, nudging out the empty chair beside him. “I’ll teach you.”
Her cheeks warmed, but she nodded and sat down beside him. He immediately leaned in slightly, his arm resting along the back of her chair as Sero began dealing the cards.
“Alright, listen up, pretty girl,” Katsuki murmured, voice low so only she could hear. “I’ll walk you through it.”
She swallowed, her face heating up even more at the nickname, but she focused as he explained. “So, poker’s all about making the best hand with the cards you’ve got. You’ll get two cards, and then five will be placed face-up on the table. You gotta make the best combination.”
She nodded as she picked up her hand, glancing at the two cards she had been dealt. Her brows furrowed in confusion.
Katsuki smirked. “Lemme see.”
She hesitated before tilting them toward him. He took one glance before huffing. “Not bad for a first hand. You’ve got a pair—two eights.”
“Is that good?” she whispered.
“It’s solid, but don’t get cocky. If someone’s got something higher, you’ll lose.”
The first round of betting began. Rosie fumbled with her chips, unsure of how much to bet, but Katsuki guided her. “Start small. You don’t wanna show your hand too early.”
She nodded, sliding in her chips just as the first three cards were flipped over on the table.
Momo pursed her lips in thought. “Interesting…”
Shoto calmly placed his bet without a word. Kirishima grinned. “I’m feeling lucky tonight, let’s go!”
Mina, of course, added dramatic flair. “Ohhh, should I be risky?” She gasped, throwing in more chips. “Yes, yes, I should.”
As the game progressed, Katsuki leaned closer, whispering explanations in Rosie’s ear, his voice sending small shivers down her spine. He bit back his own smirk watching her flush under his attention.
When she got confused about whether or not to fold, he smirked. “Trust your gut. But if it helps, I’d stick it out this round.”
She did, and when the final card was flipped, she gasped.
“Oh!” She turned to him, eyes wide. “That’s… that’s good, right?”
Katsuki glanced at the table, then back at her hand. A slow grin spread across his face.
“You just won.”
“What?!”
Kirishima groaned. “No way! First-timer’s luck!”
Rosie giggled, gathering her winnings as Mina clapped for her. “You’re a natural, babe!”
Katsuki smirked, shaking his head. “Tch. Not bad for a beginner.”
She turned to him, eyes shining with excitement. “Thanks for teaching me.”
He just chuckled, grabbing his beer. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to go easy on you next round.”
As the poker game continued, laughter and chatter filled the warm glow of the patio lights. The occasional clinking of chips and the shuffling of cards mixed with the distant sounds of splashing and music from the pool. The night had settled in fully, and a cool breeze drifted through the backyard, causing some of their classmates to slip back into the now-heated pool for warmth.
Rosie, still flushed with excitement from her first win, found herself getting more comfortable in the game. However, her luck quickly took a turn.
“Alright, I’m all in,” she declared, pushing in a handful of her chips with a confident grin.
Katsuki raised a brow at her boldness. “You sure about that?”
Rosie hesitated, glancing at her cards again before nodding. “Yep.”
Kirishima grinned. “Oh-ho, big risk taker!”
Sero smirked. “Let’s see if it pays off.”
The final card was flipped, and Rosie’s confident expression quickly shifted to one of regret.
Momo placed her hand over her mouth, trying to hide her smile. “Oh, Rosie…”
“Damn,” Sero whistled. “That was a rough bet.”
Katsuki shook his head, clicking his tongue. “Tch. Should’ve listened to me.”
Rosie groaned dramatically, slumping back in her chair. “Alright, I’m out. I clearly peaked with beginner’s luck.”
Mina patted her on the shoulder. “You were amazing while it lasted, babe.”
Standing, Rosie stretched before glancing toward the pool, where most of their classmates had already retreated. The water now gave off a faint steam thanks to the heating system Momo had turned on.
“I’m gonna go join the others,” she announced, stepping away from the table.
Katsuki barely flicked his gaze away from his cards, but he noted how she slipped off her oversized shirt before stepping into the water, her silhouette catching the soft glow of the patio lights.
Sero dealt the next hand. “Alright, let’s keep it going.”
Katsuki glanced at his new cards, but his attention was elsewhere. Rosie had waded into the pool, greeting Tsuyu and Jirou as they floated nearby, while Kaminari was already trying to get someone to play a new round of chicken fight.
He huffed. This damn game wasn’t worth sitting around for.
A few strategic plays later, he made quick work of the rest of the group, winning the last few rounds with ease.
“Damn, Bakugo,” Kirishima laughed, throwing his cards down. “Could’ve let us win at least one game.”
“Not my problem,” Katsuki muttered, standing. He didn’t even bother collecting his winnings before making his way toward the pool.
Sero blinked. “Wait—he’s just leaving?”
Mina snickered, nudging Momo. “Guess someone’s got other priorities.”
Katsuki ignored them, stepping down into the water, the heat instantly relaxing his muscles. He scanned the pool for Rosie, spotting her leaning against the edge while chatting with Uraraka and Toru.
She must have sensed his presence because she glanced over, eyes widening slightly as he swam closer.
He smirked. “Thought you were supposed to be good at poker?”
She pouted. “I never said I was good.”
“Hmph. You’ll learn.” He stopped just close enough to feel the warmth of her body in the water, but not enough to draw suspicion.
Rosie smiled before turning back to her conversation, but Katsuki remained nearby, watching her out of the corner of his eye, content to just be close.
As the warm night carried on, laughter and conversation filling the backyard, Rosie leaned in close to Katsuki, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Follow me inside,” she murmured, her breath fanning against his ear.
Katsuki’s crimson eyes flickered to her, his lips quirking up in curiosity, but before he could respond, she was already slipping away, heading toward the house.
“I need to call my dad,” she announced to the others as she grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her waist before disappearing through the sliding glass doors.
He watched her go, his mind running wild with possibilities. He waited two minutes, drinking the last sip of his beer before stretching. “Tch. I gotta take a piss.”
No one paid him any mind as he strode toward the house, but the moment he was inside, he didn’t waste time searching. He already knew where she’d be.
Navigating through the elegant halls of Momo’s massive house, he made his way upstairs. The door to her room was cracked open, and when he pushed it the rest of the way, he found Rosie standing near the window, wrapped in one of his hoodies—his hoodie, the one she had stolen from his apartment weeks ago. It hung loose on her frame, the sleeves covering her hands, the scent of him no doubt wrapped around her.
Katsuki shut the door behind him with a quiet click.
Rosie turned to him, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The soft lighting of the room cast a glow on her still-damp skin, making the exposed parts of her legs gleam. There was a quiet hesitance in her movements as she stepped toward him, but her eyes betrayed her—deep pools of longing, nervous excitement, and something undeniably warm.
She closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck, fingers lightly brushing the damp strands of his hair.
Katsuki exhaled sharply as his hands found her, palms sliding over the flushed skin of her hips, his thumbs playing with the bows on the sides of her bikini bottoms.
“What did you want to meet for?” he asked, his voice low, teasing.
Rosie stared up at him, her grip tightening slightly before she whispered, “I wanted to kiss.”
Katsuki smirked, tilting his head slightly. “That eager, huh?”
A small, flustered whimper left her throat before she nodded shyly. “Yes.”
His grip on her hips tightened. Fuck. He didn’t expect her to admit it.
She swallowed. “It’s been so hard keeping my distance from you all night.”
His smirk faltered, replaced by something darker, something hungry. “You think it’s been easy for me?” His fingers dug in slightly, tugging her closer. “Watching you in that damn swimsuit, hanging off the edge of the pool, laughing, teasing me without even realizing it?”
Her breath hitched.
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since I saw you step outside,” he rasped, his forehead pressing against hers.
Rosie barely had time to react before he claimed her mouth with his.
The kiss was rough, desperate—like he was trying to make up for every stolen glance, every time he had to hold back. He groaned when she melted against him, her fingers tangling in his hair as she kissed him back with equal fervor.
His hands slid up beneath the oversized hoodie, palms trailing along her spine, feeling the heat of her skin beneath his fingertips. Rosie gasped softly into his mouth, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, swallowing every sound she made.
She tasted like wine and strawberries, and he wanted more.
His grip on her tightened as he walked her backward until her back hit the wall. Rosie gasped at the contact, but Katsuki only growled, his lips trailing down her jaw to her neck, leaving slow, burning kisses in his wake.
“Katsuki,” she whispered, breathless.
He groaned at the sound of his name on her lips. “Say it again.”
Rosie shivered. “Katsuki…”
His teeth grazed against her pulse, his hands sliding lower, tracing the curves of her waist.
His name dropping from her lips sounded so perfect. God, he wanted to hear it again.
They needed to stop. Not here, not now. It was way too soon.
Katsuki forced himself to slow down, pressing one last lingering kiss to her lips before pulling back, both of them panting, foreheads still pressed together.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
Rosie let out a soft, breathless laugh, her hands still in his hair. Her lips were swollen, her eyes glazed as she buried her face into his chest.
Katsuki chuckled darkly, his hands still gripping her waist. “We need to get out of here before I do something reckless.”
Rosie bit her lip, nodding. “Okay.”
Reluctantly, he let her go, stepping back. She straightened the hoodie, smoothing out her hair, while he ran a hand through his own, trying to calm the fire burning in his veins.
Before she could open the door, he grabbed her wrist again, tugging her back for one last kiss. It was softer this time, lingering, like he wanted to savor the taste of her just a moment longer.
Then, with a smirk, he murmured, “You’re adorable when you blush.”
Rosie’s face turned an even deeper shade of pink, and she smacked his chest lightly, mumbling something under her breath before quickly slipping out of the room.
Katsuki let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair before groaning in frustration. That girl is gonna be the death of me. He shook his head, trying to regain some composure before following after her a couple of minutes later.
By the time he made it back outside, the backyard was alive with laughter and chaos. His eyes immediately sought her out.
Rosie sat on the edge of the pool, her legs dangling in the warm water as she sipped from a water bottle, looking effortlessly beautiful even in something as simple as his oversized hoodie.
Katsuki had every intention of walking over to her, maybe even pulling her back into the water with him, but his attention was quickly diverted when a loud splash erupted from the center of the pool.
“You bastard!” Kirishima shouted, laughing as Kaminari tackled him into the water.
Katsuki smirked. Morons.
He stripped off his shirt and tossed it onto a nearby chair before stepping into the pool, the heated water quickly relaxing his muscles.
“Bakugou!” Sero called, waving him over. “Come on, man, you’re missing out!”
“Yeah, get over here and throw Kaminari for me!” Kirishima added, water dripping from his hair as he tried to grab Kaminari, who was already swimming away.
Katsuki didn’t need much convincing. He waded toward them, cracking his knuckles. “You idiots are about to get wrecked.”
Within seconds, chaos ensued.
It started as a friendly wrestling match, but with Katsuki involved, things quickly escalated. He grabbed Kirishima and tried to dunk him, but the bastard was too damn sturdy with his quirk. Instead, Kaminari climbed onto Sero’s back and tried to take down Tokoyami, who squawked in protest, flapping his arms dramatically. Shoji easily hoisted Iida into the air, only for Iida to flail, kicking water everywhere.
Laughter filled the air as they continued their rowdy display, but then he heard a loud, grating raspy voice. “Oh wow, Rosie’s got some nice legs in that hoodie.”
Katsuki froze mid-motion, his red eyes snapping toward the source of the voice. Fucking Mineta.
The little creep was near the edge of the pool, ogling Rosie, who was still sitting there, completely unaware of the perverted comments being thrown her way.
“Damn, that hoodie’s big on her, bet she’s barely wearing anyt—”
Before Mineta could finish, Katsuki grabbed Kaminari—who had just surfaced—and launched him directly at Mineta.
With a loud yelp, Kaminari collided with the smaller boy, sending them both toppling back into the water.
“WHAT THE HELL, BAKUGOU?” Kaminari sputtered as he resurfaced, coughing up pool water.
“Oh, whoops.” Katsuki’s smirk was anything but apologetic. “Slipped.”
Mineta surfaced next, flailing his arms. “You jerk, what was that for?!”
Katsuki waded closer, his expression dark. “You say one more thing about her, and I’ll make sure you don’t make it outta this pool conscious, you little shit.”
Mineta gulped, his face paling. “I—I was just—”
Shoji, who had been watching, suddenly reached out one of his dupliarms and grabbed Mineta by the head, dunking him under the water for a few extra seconds.
“Oops,” Shoji said flatly.
Kirishima chuckled, shaking his head. “Man, you never learn.”
Satisfied, Katsuki turned away, his mood only slightly improved. His gaze flickered back to Rosie, who was now watching the scene unfold, a knowing smile tugging at her lips.
She raised an eyebrow at him, as if to say, Really?
Katsuki just shrugged. Damn right.
If only the twerp knew that Rosie wasn’t just some classmate.
She is his.
Notes:
thank you for the support, I hope you all continue to love this work of mine<3
Chapter 31: Just didn’t take you for the type to have a clingy boyfriend.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie let out a soft whine, dropping her pen onto the open notebook in front of her. She ran a frustrated hand through her hair, leaning back against the couch with a tired sigh. Her textbooks, notes, and scattered papers were now spread out around her like an overwhelming fortress of information she was supposed to absorb.
Studying was a pain in the ass, especially after missing an entire week of classes. She had two exams at the end of the week, and even though she was catching up, it still felt like she was drowning in material.
At least her dad was letting her take her exams early so she could attend the Mother and Daughter Lunch tomorrow for Eri. It was a relief—one less thing to stress over—but it also meant that she had to cram everything even faster.
Maya, her energetic poodle, suddenly jumped onto the couch, panting heavily after tearing around the apartment like a lunatic. Rosie glanced at her with a half-smile, shaking her head.
“You have no responsibilities, you know that?” she mumbled, reaching over to ruffle Maya’s fluffy head. The dog happily licked her hand in response.
Between work, school, and playing catch-up on studying, Rosie was exhausted. She let out a yawn, blinking at the clock on the wall. It was already late, and she still had so much to do.
Not to mention, she hadn’t had any proper alone time with Katsuki since their date last Saturday. It was now Tuesday, and thanks to two of his coworkers calling in sick, he had been pulled into extra shifts. Between their schedules, they were constantly missing each other.
Rosie let out another sigh, rubbing her face. She missed him.
Maya let out a soft whimper, nudging Rosie’s knee with her nose. The dog then trotted toward the door, tail wagging expectantly.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Rosie muttered, standing up and stretching. “You need to pee again before bed.”
The cool night air was refreshing as Rosie made her way to the dog park a few blocks away. Maya, as always, was full of energy, trotting ahead with her tail wagging. Rosie was grateful for the break—even if it was just a quick walk.
As she approached the entrance of the park, she noticed a familiar face standing near the fenced-in area, tossing a ball to a black and white border collie. Riku? She hesitated for a second before calling out, “Hey, I didn’t know you had a dog!”
Riku turned at the sound of her voice, his expression shifting from surprise to a friendly smile. “Rosie? What are you doing out this late?”
She held up Maya’s leash as the white poodle wagged her tail excitedly at the sight of another dog. “Maya needed one last trip outside before bed.”
Riku nodded in understanding, glancing down at his own dog, who was now sitting obediently at his feet. “Yeah, Kiba always gets a burst of energy at night. Figured I’d let him burn it off before heading home.”
Rosie tilted her head. “I didn’t know you lived around here.”
“I don’t,” Riku said with a small chuckle. “I just run a lot and end up in different areas. There’s a good trail nearby, so I usually stop here before heading back.”
She raised an eyebrow. “That’s commitment.”
He shrugged. “Gotta stay in shape somehow.”
Rosie leaned against the fence, watching as Maya and Kiba sniffed each other before breaking into an energetic sprint around the park. She smiled at the sight of Maya’s tail wagging wildly, happy to have a new playmate for the evening. “So,” she said, glancing at Riku, “you’ve been coming to the café for months now, and I never pegged you as a dog person.”
Riku smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement made the tattoo on his cheek more prominent under the dim streetlights. “And I never pegged you as someone who’d be out this late instead of drowning in textbooks.”
She rolled her eyes, groaning. “Don’t remind me. I was studying, but my brain felt like it was going to explode. Figured Maya deserved a break from me muttering formulas under my breath like a crazy person.”
Riku chuckled. “Yeah, I get that. Kiba’s the only thing that keeps me from overthinking half the time.”
Rosie smiled, nodding in agreement. “Dogs are good for that.”
Just as she was about to say something else, her phone vibrated in her hoodie pocket. She pulled it out and saw Mr. Grumpy flashing across her screen. A small smile tugged at her lips as she opened the message.
Mr. Grumpy: What are you doing?
Rosie quickly typed back, Took Maya to the dog park. Needed to get some air.
She didn’t notice the way Riku’s expression shifted, his easy going smirk faltering into something more unreadable as he watched her reaction.
A few seconds later, her phone buzzed again.
Mr. Grumpy: It’s late. You heading home soon?
Her heart did a little flip. Even through text, Katsuki had a way of sounding so him—gruff, protective, and probably annoyed that she was out when she was supposed to be resting.
Yeah, I’ll be home soon, she replied, glancing up just in time to see Riku watching her with a faint frown.
“You good?” she asked, slipping her phone back into her pocket.
His expression smoothed out instantly, the easy smirk returning. “Yeah. Just didn’t take you for the type to have a clingy boyfriend.”
Rosie raised an eyebrow. “He’s not clingy nor is he my boyfriend.,” she defended, crossing her arms. “He’s my best friend.”
Riku hummed, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t push the subject. Instead, he whistled, calling Kiba over. “Well, if you’re heading out soon, I’ll walk with you part of the way. No point in us walking alone at this hour.”
Rosie hesitated for a second before nodding. “Yeah, okay. Let me just get Maya.”
As she called her dog over, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about Riku’s reaction. But she brushed it aside, focusing instead on getting home—and the possibility of getting another text from Katsuki before she got there.
Rosie sat at her kitchen table, textbooks and notes spread out in front of her as she scribbled down equations with a determined focus. The warm glow of the overhead light mixed with the faint hum of the coffee pot brewing another round. She leaned back in her chair for a moment, rolling her sore shoulders, before taking a sip of her coffee. She had changed into one of her oversized t-shirts—the soft, well-worn kind that practically swallowed her frame—paired with long black socks that reached her thighs. Her hair was piled messily on top of her head, a few stray strands falling into her face as she stared down at her notes.
The clock on the wall read a little after ten when a sudden knock at the door made her pause, pen hovering over the paper. She frowned, glancing at the time again. Who could that be? It was late, and she wasn’t expecting anyone.
Still, curiosity got the better of her. She stood up as Maya lifted her head from her spot on the couch, ears twitching. Unlocking the door, she pulled it open—only to blink in surprise when she saw him.
Katsuki stood there, still dressed in his uniform, a pizza box balanced in one hand. His ash-blond hair was tousled with his hat still on, and there was a certain intensity in his gaze that made her stomach flip.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice laced with confusion, though she couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips. “I thought you were working until midnight.”
Katsuki didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped inside without hesitation, his presence filling the small space. She barely had time to close the door before—SLAM! The door shut hard behind him, the finality of it making her breath hitch. Then, before she could ask again, his warm, calloused hand was on her neck, tilting her head up as his lips crashed into hers.
A startled whimper escaped her throat, her fingers instinctively gripping the fabric of his uniform as he kissed her. He is all heat and hunger, his grip firm but careful, as though he didn’t want to let her go but was still holding himself back from completely devouring her. The scent of burnt caramel and the faintest trace of smoke clung to him, mixing with the intoxicating warmth of his body pressed against hers.
When he finally pulled back, just enough to let her breathe, his crimson eyes burned into hers, filled with something raw, something undeniable. “I missed you,” he muttered against her lips, his voice husky, rough around the edges.
Rosie swallowed, her heart hammering in her chest as she searched his gaze. “I—” She exhaled shakily, her fingers still curled in his uniform. “I missed you too.”
Katsuki smirked, thumb brushing her bottom lip. “Yeah?”
She nodded, dazed.
“Good,” he murmured before leaning in again, capturing her lips in another kiss—slower this time, deeper.
She could feel her face warming as he kissed her, only to feel him pull away completely. “Katsuki..?”
“I have to get back to work but I need to see you without anyone else around.”
“It was a nice surprise,” she flushed.
“Eat the pizza, study and then I want you to get some sleep,” he stated.
He wrapped his arm around her waist, yanking her against him and kissed her once more before he smirked at her and left, closing the door behind him.
Rosie chugged the last of her coffee, barely wincing at the bitter taste as she sank into her usual seat—her unofficially assigned spot—in her dad’s lecture hall. She was exhausted, running on caffeine and sheer determination, but she just had to push through a little longer. One more lecture, then her exam. After that, she had to book it across campus for her chemistry exam before rushing off to work.
Her dad hadn’t even started talking yet, and she was already suppressing a yawn. The weight of the week pressed down on her shoulders, but she straightened her back and forced herself to focus. She refused to let all the effort she’d put into studying go to waste.
The lecture dragged on, her Dad’s voice a steady drone in the background as Rosie took notes as quickly as she could. Every few minutes, she tapped her pen against her notebook, checking the clock anxiously. Come on, come on…
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the lecture ended, and Rosie continued to sit in her seat waiting for her Dad to give her her exam as everyone left.
Rosie stood in front of her mirror, smoothing down the soft fabric of her pink dress. It was a delicate shade of pink, with elegant white lace detailing along the edges. The skirt flared out slightly, ending just above her knees, and paired with her white heels, she felt… nice.
Put together.
The Mother-Daughter Lunch for Eri was something she wouldn’t miss for the world.
Rosie grabbed her purse and made her way out the door, her heart thrumming with excitement as she headed toward the dormitory school.
After a long train ride and a cab ride to the dormitory school. Rosie barely stepped through the gates before a familiar voice rang out.
“Rosie!”
A small blur of white and blue barreled into her, nearly knocking her off balance as tiny arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Rosie let out a surprised laugh, looking down to find Eri clinging to her, her bright red eyes shining with excitement.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Rosie murmured, kneeling down to hug the ten-year-old properly. “I missed you.”
Eri squeezed her tighter before pulling back just enough to look up at her with an eager smile. “You look so pretty!”
Rosie chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind Eri’s ear. “And you look adorable as always.”
Eri giggled, holding Rosie’s hand tightly as she began leading her toward the dining hall. “Come on! I saved us a seat!”
Rosie let herself be pulled along, warmth blooming in her chest. This was what she had been looking forward to—the simple joy of spending time with Eri.
Rosie let Eri pull her along, the little girl’s grip tight and eager as they made their way through the halls of the dormitory school. Eri’s uniform—a neat navy blue blazer with white trim and a red bow—was perfectly pressed, and Rosie couldn’t help but smile at how adorable she looked.
“So,” Rosie said as they walked, “how’s school going?”
Eri’s eyes lit up, and she immediately launched into an excited explanation. “It’s really fun! I mean, sometimes the math is hard, but I always ask Koda for help, and he’s really nice about it. Oh! And he’s in all my classes, so I always have a partner for projects.”
Rosie arched a brow, smirking playfully. “Sounds like you and Koda are pretty close, huh?”
Eri nodded enthusiastically. “He’s my best friend! We eat lunch together every day, and he even helps me with my science experiments. The other day, we got to learn about different kinds of plants, and Koda told me all about which ones were good for healing and which ones smelled really nice! And in music class, I got to play the violin for the first time—it was really hard, but I want to get better!”
Rosie’s heart swelled at how animated Eri was. She had never seen her so chatty when she first came into their lives, but now, she was blooming—confident, happy, safe.
“I’m so proud of you,” Rosie said, squeezing Eri’s hand. “You’re doing amazing.”
Eri beamed, her cheeks flushing pink. “I wanna show you everything after lunch!”
“Then I guess I’ll have to stick around, huh?” Rosie teased as they finally entered the dining hall.
The room was beautifully decorated in soft pastels, floral centerpieces adorning each table while natural light filtered in through the tall windows. The atmosphere was warm and welcoming, filled with the laughter and chatter of other girls and their mothers.
Eri didn’t waste a second before dragging Rosie toward a table in the middle of the room, bouncing on her feet. “This is our table! I saved us these seats.”
Rosie let out a soft laugh, sitting down beside her while other students and their mothers filled in the seats around them. The event began, with a few faculty members giving speeches before the meal was served. Rosie kept her attention on Eri the entire time, listening intently as she talked about her favorite teachers and the new book she was reading.
At some point, Rosie excused herself to use the restroom, making her way down the elegantly decorated hall. As she stepped inside, she immediately heard hushed voices—whispered words that made her pause in her tracks.
“She’s way too young to have a daughter here.”
“Disgusting. Probably some irresponsible dropout who got pregnant in high school.”
“She looks barely older than these kids. What kind of example does that set?”
Rosie’s jaw clenched, her blood running hot as she turned the corner to see two well-dressed women standing by the sinks, their judgmental gazes flickering toward her in the mirror’s reflection.
She didn’t hesitate. Stepping forward, she let her heels click against the marble floor, her expression cool and unreadable.
“I’m sorry,” she said smoothly, her voice like ice. “I must’ve misheard you, because I know you’re not talking about me.”
The women stiffened, their judgmental sneers faltering.
Rosie crossed her arms. “Let me make something very clear to you—Eri is my little sister, not my daughter. Our mother died earlier this year, and if you have a problem with me stepping in to be there for her, then that says a hell of a lot more about you than it does about me.”
The women fumbled for words, clearly thrown off by her directness.
Rosie took a step closer, lowering her voice just enough to sound deadly. “And if I ever hear you breathe a single word of your nasty, pathetic hatred near Eri. I promise you, you’ll regret ever looking in her direction.”
The silence that followed was deafening. The women stared at her, wide-eyed and speechless, as Rosie turned on her heel and strode out of the bathroom without another glance.
By the time she returned to the dining hall, she felt the residual heat of anger still thrumming beneath her skin, but it all melted away the second she spotted Eri waiting eagerly for her.
“Rosie! Are you ready?” Eri asked, practically bouncing with excitement. “I wanna show you my classroom and the music room and—oh! We have a garden outside, too!”
Eri’s excitement was contagious as she eagerly guided Rosie through the school, her small hand gripping Rosie’s tightly as they walked down the pristine hallways. Every so often, Eri would point at something—a framed picture on the wall, a classroom where a particularly funny moment had happened, or a window seat where she and Koda liked to sit and read during break.
“And this is the library!” Eri declared proudly, stopping in front of a large set of wooden double doors. “It’s really big, and there’s a whole section just for fantasy books. Oh! And the librarian always lets me check out more books than the limit ‘cause she says I read too fast.”
Rosie chuckled, ruffling Eri’s hair. “That doesn’t surprise me. You’ve always been a little bookworm.”
Eri giggled before continuing the tour, leading Rosie down another hallway. “Only because of you. Oh, and here’s my homeroom! And that’s my science class right next to it—Koda sits next to me there. And this is the cafeteria! The food’s actually really good, and sometimes they have themed days where we get to try food from different places!”
Rosie listened intently, soaking in every detail Eri eagerly shared. It made her so happy to see how comfortable Eri was here, how much she enjoyed her classes and time with her friends.
Finally, Eri tugged Rosie toward a set of doors at the end of the hall. “And this is the music room!”
The moment they stepped inside, Rosie’s gaze swept over the space—rows of chairs set up for students, instruments resting neatly on their stands, and a large grand piano settled near the front. Sunlight poured in through the wide windows, giving the room a warm, inviting glow.
“So,” Rosie said, turning toward Eri with a grin. “What instrument are you learning?”
Eri’s fingers fidgeted slightly with the hem of her uniform, her cheeks turning pink. “Um… well… I-I’m learning two, actually.”
Rosie arched a brow. “Oh? That’s impressive. What are they?”
“The violin… and the guitar.”
Rosie’s breath hitched slightly, something tugging at her chest as she tilted her head. “You’re learning the violin because I played it, huh?”
Eri’s blush deepened, and she shyly nodded. “I just… I wanna be like you.”
Rosie felt her heart squeeze at the quiet admission, warmth spreading through her chest. She reached out, gently brushing a strand of silver hair behind Eri’s ear. “That’s really sweet, bug. I think it’s amazing that you’re learning both.”
Eri hesitated for a moment before glancing down at her shoes, her voice barely above a whisper. “…Do you think Mom would be proud of me? That I’m learning guitar like she did?”
Rosie felt her throat tighten, the weight of grief pressing into her chest like an old wound reopening. Their mother had been a beautiful musician, her fingers always plucking at guitar strings, filling their home with soft melodies. The thought of Eri wanting to follow in her footsteps—of her doing it to feel closer to a mother she never got to fully know—was almost too much.
Rosie could feel her vision blur slightly, tears pricking at her eyes as she knelt down in front of Eri, wrapping her arms tightly around her.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “She would be so proud of you. More than you could ever know.”
Eri melted into Rosie’s embrace, burying her face in her shoulder. “I just want to make her happy.”
Rosie squeezed her tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You do, Eri. Every single day.”
For a moment, they just stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s warmth, a silent understanding passing between them.
Then, Rosie pulled back with a soft smile, wiping at her eyes. “Now, you have to play something for me next time I visit, okay? Violin or guitar—dealer’s choice.”
Eri giggled, nodding eagerly. “Okay!”
Rosie ruffled her hair again before standing up, reaching for her hand. “Alright, what’s next on the tour?”
Eri grinned, her sadness replaced with excitement once more as she pulled Rosie toward the door. “The garden! It’s got the prettiest flowers, and there’s even a little pond with fish in it!”
Rosie let herself be dragged along, her heart still aching, but full of so much love for the little sister who had already grown so much since her Dad brought her home.
Rosie leaned back against the bench, the cool evening air brushing against her skin as she sipped her strawberry lemonade bubble tea. Maya darted around the dog park, weaving between the other dogs with boundless energy, her fluffy tail wagging happily. It was Thursday—her bi-weekly time with her dad—and after spending the afternoon at Eri’s school, she was grateful for the chance to unwind with him.
“I’ve decided to come out of retirement and go back to work as a Pro Hero,” Aizawa announced suddenly, his deep voice calm as ever. “Which means that I’ll be switching my classes to only meet on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
Rosie nearly choked on her drink, turning to him with wide eyes. “Wait, what? That’s amazing!” She set down her smoothie, beaming.
Aizawa crossed his arms, leaning against the bench with an air of quiet certainty. “Just part-time for now, but once you kids graduate next year, I’ll no longer be a teacher. I’ll be going back to hero work full-time.”
Rosie felt a warmth bloom in her chest, pride mixing with excitement. “Dad, that’s huge! I know you always said you’d go back eventually, but hearing you say it out loud makes it feel real.” She leaned over, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “We have to celebrate this weekend—with Uncle Mic, your friends, everyone!”
Aizawa sighed in that long-suffering way that told her he had already given up on saying no. “Alright,” he muttered. “Just because I can’t say no to you. And you know that already.”
Rosie grinned, satisfied.
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching Maya wrestle with a golden retriever, her happy yips echoing through the park.
“Have you decided whether or not Eri’s getting a phone?” Rosie asked after a moment, stirring the tapioca pearls at the bottom of her drink with her straw.
“I already bought her one,” Aizawa admitted, his voice steady but carrying a weight she didn’t miss. “An early birthday gift.”
Rosie arched a brow. “Really? I thought you were still thinking about it.”
He exhaled through his nose, his eyes fixed ahead. “With me going back to hero work, I won’t always be around. I want her to be able to contact you if anything happens.” He shifted slightly, glancing at her. “After Miyu died… I put you down as Eri’s secondary emergency contact.”
Rosie’s chest tightened at the mention of their mother, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she nodded, taking a slow sip of her drink. “I figured you would.” Her voice was soft, understanding. “You don’t have to explain, Dad. I’ll always be there for her. You know that.”
Aizawa studied her for a long moment before giving a small nod. “I do.”
Rosie smiled, but it was a little more subdued this time. “I think Eri’s gonna be over the moon when she finds out about the phone. She’s already been trying to get me to ‘work my magic’ on you to get her one.”
Aizawa let out a rare chuckle, shaking his head. “That kid… she knows exactly how to play you and me.”
“Of course she does,” Rosie said, grinning. “She’s smart. And adorable. You don’t stand a chance.”
Aizawa hummed in reluctant agreement, his gaze softening. “She looks up to you, you know. More than she says.”
Rosie felt her throat tighten, a mix of emotions swirling inside her. She had spent so much time over the past year balancing the roles of both an older sister and, in many ways, a parent to Eri. She never resented it—not once. If anything, it made her love Eri even more. But sometimes, it was overwhelming. The weight of responsibility. The fear of not being enough. Whether she was screwing up or not.
“I just want to do right by her,” Rosie admitted quietly, staring down at her drink. “She deserves that.”
Aizawa reached over, placing a firm yet gentle hand on her shoulder. “You already are.”
Rosie looked up at him, his tired eyes filled with adoration and warmth.
She gave a small nod, blinking away the sudden sting in her eyes before leaning against his arm, resting her head against his shoulder. “Thanks, Dad.”
Aizawa said nothing, instead he wrapped his arm around Rosie and squeezed her tight.
Notes:
please let me know what you guys think!
Chapter 32: Jesus Christ, that was creepy as hell.
Chapter Text
Friday was the best fucking day of the week.
Why?
Because Katsuki finally got uninterrupted alone time with Rosie.
For once, both of their science classes had been canceled, meaning that after this lecture, she would be all his. He just had to get through it. That should’ve been easy, right?
Wrong.
Because his girlfriend sat in the row beneath him, her hair tied up in a messy bun, exposing the delicate curve of her neck. And worse? She was wearing a cropped sweater that barely covered anything and a plaid mini skirt showing off her soft and plush thighs that had his jaw clenching so hard it might shatter.
How the hell was he supposed to focus on a lecture when that was sitting right in front of him?
To make things even worse, the person giving the lecture is her father.
Katsuki ran a hand through his hair, forcing his gaze away from Rosie’s bare thighs and up toward Aizawa, who was wrapped up in his ridiculous yellow sleeping bag like a goddamn burrito while giving a lecture. It should’ve been hilarious, but Katsuki was too distracted to even smirk.
Instead, he switched tabs on his laptop, staring at his most recent search:
100 Things You Can Do With Your Significant Other.
He hated to admit it, but dating? It was still new territory for him. Sure, he could blow shit up and fight villains without breaking a sweat, but relationships? Being a good boyfriend? Making and keeping Rosie happy? That was something he had to put in real effort for. He was determined to do it right.
That’s why he had plans for them this weekend. He just needed to figure out what the hell they were doing.
“Alright, everyone, go home. Class is over,” Aizawa’s voice broke through his thoughts.
Katsuki didn’t waste a second shoving his things into his backpack, standing up before most of the class even had a chance to process that they were dismissed. He was the first one out the door, heading straight for his car.
Throwing his backpack into the backseat, he leaned against the driver's side, waiting. He didn’t have to wait long—Rosie entered the parking lot after crossing the quad and courtyard after, her face lighting up when she saw him. She walked over, slipping into the passenger seat before leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.
“Mine or yours?” she asked, her voice soft as she buckled in.
“Mine,” he answered, shifting the car into reverse, placing his arm behind her chair and looking back . “But we’ll pick up the cotton swab from your place first.” He didn’t miss the way she immediately turned pink. He furrowed his brows. “What’s got you all flustered?”
Before she could answer, her phone buzzed with a text, drawing her attention away. While she typed out a response, Katsuki focused on driving, his mind going over his plans for the evening.
After picking up Maya, they’d head back to his place, where he had already stocked up on Rosie’s favorite snacks and wine. He’d even bought some painting supplies—one of the suggestions from the article he read suggested that drinking and painting together was a fun way to bond. He wasn’t exactly an artist, but if it meant spending time with Rosie, he’d do it.
And maybe, just maybe, he’d get to see her in that tiny skirt a little longer.
By the time they arrived at his apartment, Maya was already making herself at home, trotting around the living room as if she owned the place.
Rosie set her backpack and overnight bag down in his room before coming back out to find Katsuki in the kitchen. He had already started making lunch, rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie as he moved around with practiced ease. The smell of sizzling meat filled the apartment.
Meanwhile, Maya sat by Katsuki’s feet, tail wagging furiously as she whined, her big black eyes locked onto him with pure desperation.
“Tch. Fine,” Katsuki muttered, reaching into the fridge and pulling out a slice of deli turkey. He held it up, watching as Maya perked up, then tossed it to her after she stood on her hind legs and twirled around. She caught it in one bite, her tail wagging even harder as she happily chewed.
Rosie stood in the doorway, arms crossed, a knowing smirk on her lips.
“So,” she drawled, “the big bad Dynamite has a soft spot for my dog?”
Katsuki stiffened, his eyes snapping to her. “Shut up.”
She laughed, walking over and wrapping her arms around his waist from behind, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade. “I think it’s cute.”
He huffed, but the tips of his ears burned red.
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, turning back to the stove. “Now sit your ass down. Food will be ready in a minute.”
Katsuki was barely paying attention to the movie.
Instead, his eyes were fixed on Rosie, who sat on the opposite side of the couch, her knees pulled up to her chest as she mindlessly ate popcorn. Her eyes were glued to the screen, completely captivated by the horror movie, her lips parted slightly in anticipation of the next jump scare.
He couldn’t help but wonder, How the hell can she watch horror movies but be terrified of haunted houses?
He still remembered carrying her through that haunted house last month. She’d clung to him so tightly that he thought she’d cut off his circulation. Yet, here she was, cool as ice as the creepy ghost girl on the screen crawled up the wall, joints popping and cracking as she contorted her body in impossible angles.
He snorted, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he remembered something Aizawa had said a couple of weeks ago. “The only thing she inherited from me is her love for horror movies and her impeccable taste in music.”
Katsuki’s smirk widened. Yeah, that sounded about right.
He watched as Rosie’s face stayed completely neutral, unfazed by the grotesque creature twisting its head around with a sickening crack. She absentmindedly stuffed more popcorn into her mouth, eyes still glued to the screen.
Meanwhile, the sound effects were loud and eerie, the ghost’s groans echoing through the room as she scuttled across the ceiling like a spider, her long hair hanging down and dragging against the wall.
Katsuki looked back at the screen just as the ghost’s face suddenly appeared inches away from the main character’s face, mouth stretched wide open, shrieking with an inhuman wail.
Jesus Christ, that was creepy as hell.
His eyes flicked back to Rosie, expecting to see at least a flinch. But instead, she just tilted her head, munching on her popcorn like it was nothing more than a rom-com.
A laugh escaped him before he could stop it.
Rosie’s eyes snapped to him, blinking in confusion. “What’s so funny?”
He leaned back, resting an arm along the back of the couch. “Nothin’. Just thinkin’ about how you freaked out at the haunted house, but this?” He nodded at the screen, where the ghost was now crawling backward down the stairs. “This doesn’t bother you at all?”
She rolled her eyes, her lips twitching into a smile. “It’s just a movie, Katsuki. Besides, the effects are kind of cheesy. You can totally tell that’s CGI.”
He scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re a little psycho, y’know that?”
“Maybe a little,” she teased, tossing a piece of popcorn at him.
His chest tightened at that, warmth spreading through him as he fought to keep his smirk in place. She had no idea how much that meant to him, did she?
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, turning his attention back to the screen, pretending not to care even as his heart raced just a little faster. “Just don’t expect me to take you to any more haunted houses.”
She giggled, her laugh soft and sweet, and he swallowed.
Fuck.
Katsuki’s fingers tightened gently around Rosie’s ankle, his thumb brushing over her soft skin. “Come here,” he murmured, his voice low as he crooked his finger towards her.
Her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink, but she didn’t hesitate, setting the popcorn bowl aside before crawling over to him, her movements shy and tentative. She nestled against his chest, her small frame fitting perfectly against his. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding her close as she rested her head against his collarbone, her hair tickling his neck.
He exhaled slowly, his muscles relaxing as he buried his nose in her hair, breathing in the faint scent of her shampoo. It was sweet, like strawberries, and he couldn’t help but smile as she curled her legs up, her knees pressing against his thigh.
The movie continued to play, but Katsuki barely paid attention. His focus was entirely on Rosie—the steady rhythm of her breathing, the way her fingers clung to his shirt as she burrowed closer, her body melting into his. Her warmth seeped into him, easing away any tension he hadn’t even realized he was holding.
She shifted slightly, letting out a soft sigh before her breathing evened out, her body growing heavier against him as she drifted off to sleep. Katsuki’s heart gave a little lurch, his chest tightening at the sight of her so peaceful, so damn trusting, curled up against him like this.
He reached up, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering as he traced the curve of her cheek. She was so soft, so warm, so... perfect.
His eyes softened, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone before he wrapped his arm around her once more, holding her securely against him. He let his head fall back against the couch, his eyes growing heavy as he listened to her steady breathing, the soft rise and fall of her chest lulling him into a comfortable haze.
Eventually, his eyes fluttered shut, his body relaxing completely as he drifted off with her in his arms.
He woke up to the sound of his phone ringing, the loud, obnoxious ringtone breaking through the peaceful silence. Katsuki’s eyes snapped open, his body tensing as he instinctively reached for his phone, his arm tightening around Rosie in the process.
He blinked, his vision clearing as he looked down at her. She was still sound asleep, curled up against his chest, her face nuzzled into his neck. She let out a soft whimper, her fingers tightening around his shirt as she pressed closer to him, seeking his warmth even in her sleep.
His heart skipped a beat, his chest tightening at how damn cute she was. But the phone kept ringing, and he reluctantly tore his gaze away, his eyes narrowing as he saw the name flashing on the screen.
Mom.
He groaned, his head falling back against the couch as he accepted the call. “What do you want, Old Hag?” he grumbled, keeping his voice low so he wouldn’t wake Rosie.
“Oh, so that’s how you greet your own mother now?” Mitsuki’s voice crackled through the speaker, dripping with sarcasm. “Just wanted to check in on you, you little brat. Thought I’d drop by and make sure you’re not eating nothing but takeout.”
His heart stopped, his body going rigid as his eyes snapped back to Rosie, who was still curled up in his arms, completely oblivious to the panic rising in his chest.
She was coming here? Now?
Shit.
“Uh, no, you don’t gotta do that,” he said quickly, his voice strained. “I’m fine, Old Hag. Ate somethin’ healthy today, alright?”
“Oh, please. Like I believe that for a second,” she shot back, her tone skeptical. “I’ll be there in twenty. Make sure your apartment isn’t a pigsty.”
He didn’t even get the chance to argue before she hung up on him. Katsuki stared at his phone, his jaw clenching as he tossed it onto the coffee table, the device bouncing slightly before settling.
He looked down at Rosie, his heart sinking as she let out a soft sigh, her body curling even closer as she nuzzled her face into his neck. He closed his eyes, his arm tightening around her as he silently cursed his luck.
She looked so peaceful, so comfortable, and he hated the thought of waking her up. But if his mom showed up and found her here? He didn’t even want to think about the questions she’d start asking. Especially since they were supposed to be keeping their relationship a secret.
He let out a heavy sigh, his fingers gently brushing through Rosie’s hair as he leaned down, pressing his lips to her forehead. “Hey... Rosie,” he murmured, his voice soft and hesitant. “Wake up, pretty girl .”
She stirred, her nose scrunching up in the cutest little way as she blinked sleepily, her eyes slowly opening as she looked up at him, her gaze hazy with sleep. “Katsuki...?” Her voice was small, drowsy, and his chest tightened.
He swallowed hard, his thumb brushing over her cheek. “You... you gotta hide,” he said, his voice low and regretful. “My mom’s comin’ over.”
Her eyes widened, the sleep instantly leaving her expression as she sat up, her hair falling messily around her face. “Your... mom?”
He nodded, his jaw clenching as he ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. She’ll be here any minute. You gotta get to my room and stay quiet, alright?”
Rosie’s face flushed, and she scrambled off the couch, her hands smoothing out her clothes as she looked at him, her eyes wide with panic. “Okay... okay, I’ll hide. Just... don’t let her know I’m here, alright?”
Katsuki’s lips twitched into a smirk despite himself, his chest warming at how flustered Rosie was. He reached out, his fingers gently squeezing her hand. “I’ll get her outta here quickly,” he promised, his voice low and steady. But as he looked around his apartment, his confidence faltered.
Shit.
Rosie’s things were scattered everywhere. Her sweaters were draped over the back of his couch, one even hanging off the armrest. Her pink backpack sat on the kitchen island, partially unzipped with notebooks peeking out. Her shoes were by the door, right next to his, the small size a dead giveaway that they weren’t his and the fact they were heels.
And then there was Maya. The cotton swab was sitting in the middle of the living room, her head tilted as she watched them with wide, curious eyes. Her toys were scattered around the floor, her food and water bowls neatly lined up against the wall in the kitchen.
“What about Maya?” Rosie whispered, her voice tinged with worry.
Katsuki’s eyes flicked to the dog, his jaw clenching. “I’ll just say I’m dog-sitting,” he replied, his voice firm. “But the rest of your shit... we gotta hide it. Fast.”
Rosie’s eyes widened, and she immediately sprang into action, darting towards the couch and snatching up her sweaters. Katsuki followed, grabbing the blanket she had thrown into his cart when they went shopping and tossing it to her. “Put ‘em all in a box,” he ordered, his voice low but urgent. “I’ll stash it in my closet.”
She nodded, her cheeks flushed as she shoved her sweaters into a box he handed her, her movements hurried but precise. “I didn’t realize I’d left so much stuff here...” she mumbled, her voice tinged with embarrassment.
Katsuki snorted, his lips twitching as he knelt down to gather Maya’s toys, stuffing them into the small basket he kept by the TV stand. “Yeah, well... you’re always here. Not like I’m complainin’ or anything.”
Rosie’s face turned a deeper shade of pink, and she quickly turned away, focusing on the task at hand. She grabbed her backpack off the island, shoving it into the box before sprinting down the hallway to grab her heels from the front door
He turned back around, his eyes landing on the half-empty bottle of rosé sitting on the counter. He cursed under his breath, snatching it up and stuffing it into a cabinet just as Rosie came back, her arms full of notebooks and art supplies.
She dumped them into the box, pushing down the pile to make it all fit before slamming the lid shut. “Got everything?” she asked breathlessly, her eyes wide as she looked up at him.
He took a quick look around, his eyes scanning the apartment for any traces of her. Her laptop charger was still plugged into the outlet by the couch. He grabbed it, shoving it into the box before picking the whole thing up and striding down the hallway.
He yanked open his closet, his heart pounding as he shoved the box to the back, covering it with his winter collection. He glanced back at Rosie, who was standing by his bedroom door, nervously twisting her fingers together. “Mute your phone and hide in here,” he instructed, his voice firm. “Don’t make a sound, got it?”
She nodded, her face pale as she quickly pulled her phone from her pocket, hitting the mute button before slipping into his room. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes meeting his. “Good luck,” she whispered, her voice small.
Katsuki’s chest tightened, his resolve hardening as he gave her a nod. “I got this,” he promised before gently closing the door behind her. He lingered for a moment, his hand resting on the doorknob before the loud, impatient knock echoed through his apartment.
His heart skipped a beat, his body tensing as he turned back towards the living room, his jaw clenching. Damn it, Old Hag.
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax as he walked to the front door, his steps measured and calm. Maya trotted after him, her tail wagging as she looked up at him expectantly. “Alright, cotton swab, play along,” he muttered, giving her head a quick pat before unlocking the door.
The second he turned the knob, the door was flung open, revealing his mother standing there with her hands on her hips, her sharp eyes immediately scanning his apartment. “Took you long enough,” she huffed, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “What were you doing, takin’ a nap?”
Katsuki scowled, stepping back to let her in. “Yeah, sure,” he grumbled, crossing his arms as she marched past him, her eyes narrowing as she looked around. “What’re you doin’ here, Old Hag?”
Mitsuki’s eyes flicked to the couch, her brows raising. “Just checkin’ in on you,” she said, her voice casual but her gaze calculating. “Wanted to make sure you weren’t livin’ like a pig.”
She turned to him, her eyes narrowing. “You keepin’ this place clean?”
Katsuki’s shoulders tensed, his jaw clenching as he forced himself to look nonchalant. “Yeah, yeah, it’s clean,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively. “I ain’t some slob, alright?”
Mitsuki’s eyes narrowed, her gaze sweeping over the living room once more before landing on Maya, who was sitting obediently by Katsuki’s feet, her tail thumping against the floor.
“And what’s this?” she asked, her voice suspicious as she pointed at the dog. “Since when did you have a dog?”
Katsuki kept his expression neutral, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Oh, that?” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against the wall. “I’m dog-sittin’ for a friend. She’ll be gone by sunday.”
Mitsuki’s eyebrow arched higher, her arms crossing as she studied him, her gaze sharp and probing. “Huh. Didn’t think you were the type to do favors for friends.”
Katsuki’s eye twitched, his smirk faltering just slightly before he forced himself to play it cool. “Yeah, well... guess I’m full of surprises,” he shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Mitsuki didn’t respond right away, her eyes narrowing as she looked him up and down. Katsuki’s stomach tightened, his heart thudding in his chest, but he held his ground, keeping his posture relaxed as he leaned against the wall, his hands casually stuffed in his pockets.
Finally, Mitsuki rolled her eyes, a huff escaping her lips as she turned away, her blonde hair bouncing as she walked towards the kitchen island. Katsuki’s eyes widened as he noticed the bags she had brought with her, all of them overflowing with groceries and other supplies. She set them down on the island, her movements swift and efficient as she began unpacking everything, setting cans of soup and boxes of instant ramen on the counter.
“Seriously?” Katsuki grumbled, pushing off the wall and marching towards her. “I didn’t ask for this.”
Mitsuki scoffed, not even bothering to look at him as she continued unpacking. “Yeah, well, you look like you haven’t eaten a decent meal in days,” she snapped, pulling out a pack of fresh vegetables and setting them on the counter.
“I can take care of myself, Old Hag,” he shot back, his voice sharp.
Mitsuki finally looked up, her eyes narrowing as she met his glare. “Don’t get mouthy with me, brat,” she warned, her voice low and dangerous. “I know you’ve been busy with school, gym, and work, so I came by to make sure you were actually taking care of yourself.” Her gaze softened, just for a moment, her shoulders relaxing. “You’re still my kid, you know,” she muttered, her voice quieter. “I worry about you.”
Katsuki’s chest tightened, his anger deflating as he looked away, his face growing warm. “Yeah, yeah... whatever,” he mumbled, his voice gruff. “I’m fine. Don’t need you fussin’ over me.”
Mitsuki just shook her head, her lips twitching into a smirk. “Too bad. It’s my job.” She turned back to the groceries, continuing to unpack. “Bought you some more shampoo and body wash, too. Figured you were probably runnin’ low.”
Katsuki’s heart skipped a beat, his body tensing as she grabbed a bag and started towards the hallway. Shit. His bathroom was connected to his bedroom—Rosie is hiding in there.
His mind raced, his pulse thundering in his ears as he quickly moved to intercept her, his body blocking her path. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said, his voice a little too loud, a little too fast. “I got plenty of that stuff.”
Mitsuki raised an eyebrow, her eyes narrowing. “Yeah, right,” she said, her voice dry. She tried to move around him, but Katsuki stepped in her way, his arms crossed over his chest.
“I said I don’t need it,” he insisted, his jaw tight. “Just leave it in the kitchen. I’ll take it to the bathroom later.”
Mitsuki’s eyes narrowed further, suspicion gleaming in her gaze. “Why are you actin’ so weird?” she asked, her voice sharp.
Katsuki grunted, his mouth going dry. “I’m not, I just need to leave soon.”
Finally, Mitsuki sighed, rolling her eyes as she turned back to the kitchen. “Fine. Whatever. You’re such a pain in the ass,” she muttered, dropping the bag on the counter.
Katsuki let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his shoulders sagging in relief. But his relief was short-lived as Mitsuki grabbed another bag and started down the hallway. “I also got you more hangers,” she called over her shoulder. “I know you never buy enough of those, so I’ll just put them in your closet.”
Katsuki’s blood ran cold, his body tensing as he watched her stride confidently towards his bedroom. Shit. Shit. Shit.
He hurried after her, his heart racing, his mind spinning as he tried to come up with an excuse, any excuse to stop her. “Oi! You don’t have to do that!” he shouted, his voice cracking as he followed her into his room. “Just leave ‘em in the living room, dammit!”
But Mitsuki was already in his room, her eyes flicking over his neatly made bed before she moved to the closet, her hand reaching for the door handle. Katsuki’s stomach twisted into knots, his palms growing sweaty as he watched her open the door, his heart thundering in his chest.
She flung the door open, her eyes scanning the closet before she sighed, her shoulders sagging. “You’re such a slob,” she muttered, pushing aside his jackets to make room for the bag of hangers. “You got crap stuffed all the way in the back. What even is this box?”
Katsuki’s heart stopped, his breath catching in his throat as she reached for the box—Rosie’s box. He stepped forward, his voice coming out harsher than he intended. “Don’t touch that!”
Mitsuki froze, her hand hovering over the box as she turned to glare at him. “What’s your problem?” she snapped, her eyes blazing with annoyance. “It’s just a box.”
Katsuki’s mouth opened and closed, his mind blank as he struggled to come up with an excuse. “It’s... it’s... just old stuff,” he muttered, his voice weak. “Don’t mess with it.”
“Fine. Whatever,” she grumbled, shoving the bag of hangers onto the shelf before turning away. “You’re so damn weird sometimes.”
Katsuki watched as she unpacked her things, talked about her work, and how he should come home to have dinner with them sometime next week.
“I just worry about you,” Mitsuki said as she reached up to rub his head.
Katsuki nodded.
Ever since he died in the war against All for One and Edgeshot had brought him back to life. His Mother had taken extra care to look out for him despite.
“I love you,” she smiled.
“I love you too,” he grunted
Then she smacked him upside the head and then left, the door closing behind her. His entire body relaxing as the door clicked shut behind her.
Finally.
Damn nosy woman, he thought, shaking his head as he made his way to his bedroom. As he stepped inside, his eyes immediately began searching for Rosie, his gaze flicking over the room, looking for any sign of her.
“Oi, where’d you go?” he called softly, his voice low. He took a step towards the bed, his ears straining for any sound. A soft whimper reached his ears, muffled and faint. Katsuki’s brows furrowed as he approached the bed, crouching down to peer underneath.
His heart gave a little lurch as he spotted her, curled up on her side, her face scrunched up in frustration. Her knees were bent awkwardly, her shoulders pressed against the bed frame. She looked at him with wide eyes, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I heard her coming, so I hid under here... and now I’m stuck.”
Katsuki blinked, his lips twitching before a snort escaped him. “Seriously?” he muttered, shaking his head, his shoulders trembling with silent laughter. He couldn’t help it—the sight of her curled up under his bed, her hair a mess, her eyes pleading for help... she looked adorable.
“Oi, don’t laugh at me!” Rosie pouted, her cheeks turning an even darker shade of pink. “It’s not funny!”
“It’s hilarious,” he shot back, his grin widening. He reached down, his fingers brushing against hers. “How the hell did you even fit under there?”
“I panicked!” she huffed, her nose wrinkling in annoyance. “I just... saw her coming and thought she’d see me if I hid in the closet, so... I crawled under here. But now I’m stuck, Katsuki.”
Katsuki chuckled, shaking his head as he stood up. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he muttered, his voice soft as he moved to the side of the bed. He crouched down, his hand gripping the metal frame. “Alright, stay still.”
With one arm, he lifted the bed with ease, his muscles flexing as he held it up, his other hand resting on his hip. “Go on. Get outta there.”
Rosie’s eyes widened, her mouth dropping open as she watched him hold up the bed like it was nothing. “How... how are you doing that with one arm?” she asked, her voice laced with awe.
Katsuki’s chest puffed out, his smirk widening. “Tch. This is nothin’,” he scoffed, his voice dripping with arrogance. “You forget who you’re talkin’ to?”
Rosie’s cheeks flushed, a shy smile spreading across her lips. “Right... my hero,” she whispered sarcastically, her voice soft as she began to crawl out from under the bed.
Once she was free, Katsuki lowered the bed back down, the frame thudding softly against the floor. He straightened up, rolling his shoulders before looking down at her, his smirk softening. “You good?”
Rosie nodded, brushing the dust off her clothes. “Yeah... just a little sore,” she admitted, rubbing her shoulder. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, her lips curving into a small smile.
“Tch. Idiot,” he muttered, looking away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “You wouldn’t have needed savin’ if you didn’t do somethin’ so dumb in the first place.”
Rosie pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. “I didn’t have a choice!”
Katsuki’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “You did good.”
Rosie’s face brightened, her eyes sparkling with pride. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice softening. “You were quiet as hell. Didn’t even hear you breathe.”
Rosie’s cheeks flushed pink, her lips curving into a shy smile. “Good... that’s good.” She let out a long breath, her shoulders sagging as the tension melted away. “I thought for sure she was gonna find me...”
Katsuki’s eyes softened as he watched her, his chest tightening. She looked exhausted, her shoulders slumping, her eyes heavy with sleep. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from her face. “You look like you’re about to fall over,” he murmured, his voice low. “
Rosie blinked up at him, her eyes glassy with sleep. “Yeah... I’m still kinda sleepy,” she admitted, her voice soft and sleepy.
His lips twitched into a soft smile, his heart giving a little flutter. “Come on,” he murmured, his arm slipping around her shoulders as he guided her towards the bed. “Let’s get you back to sleep.”
Rosie didn’t protest, her body leaning into his as she yawned, her eyes growing heavier with each step. Katsuki pulled back the blankets, helping her climb into the bed before slipping in beside her, his arm wrapping around her waist as he pulled her close.
She curled into his chest, her head resting against his shoulder, her fingers curling into his shirt as she sighed, her breath warm against his skin. “Mmm... warm,” she mumbled, her voice slurring with exhaustion.
Katsuki’s chest tightened, his fingers brushing through her hair as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Go to sleep, dumbass,” he whispered, his voice rough. “I got you.”
Rosie’s lips twitched into a sleepy smile, her body relaxing against him, as she drifted off to sleep.
Katsuki held her close, his chin resting atop her head as he closed his eyes, his own exhaustion finally catching up to him.
How could she be so perfectly pretty?
Katsuki’s eyes flicked over to Rosie as she sat across from him on the floor, her legs crossed beneath her as she leaned over her canvas, her face scrunched up in concentration. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, loose strands framing her face, and a faint smudge of paint decorated her cheek. Her lips were pursed, her fingers delicately guiding her paintbrush over the canvas as she hummed softly, lost in her own little world.
She was still painting, insisting she needed to add last-minute details, even though he thought it looked perfect the way it was. Then again, she always aimed for perfection, even when she didn’t need to.
Katsuki leaned back, his canvas drying beside him, carefully positioned so she couldn’t see it yet. He watched her, his heart doing that stupid fluttering thing it always did whenever he looked at her for too long. How the hell did he end up with a girlfriend so soft, so pretty, and so fucking effortlessly gentle?
She was everything he never thought he needed. She made his days brighter, his nights warmer, and his heart... softer. Sometimes, it scared him just how deeply he felt for her, but then she’d smile at him with those bright, shining eyes, and all that fear melted away.
“So how was visiting Eri yesterday?” Katsuki asked, his voice casual as he set his paintbrush down, trying to ignore how his chest tightened at the sight of her.
Rosie’s face lit up, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at him, her smile so genuine it made his heart skip. “It was great,” she beamed. “I haven’t seen her since the term started. But I’ll get to see her for Christmas break since she’s already insisted on coming to stay the night at my place.”
Katsuki’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Little ankle biter,” he grumbled, his tone affectionate.
Rosie giggled, the sound light and musical, making his chest feel warm. She was so damn cute it was infuriating. “She’s not that bad,” she defended, her voice soft. “She just gets excited.”
“Yeah, excited enough to tackle people,” Katsuki shot back, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “So did your mom adopt her too?”
Rosie’s expression softened, her eyes growing distant as she nodded. “Yeah... after Eri was released from the hospital, my dad flew to America. He explained everything to my mom and me about how she has no control over her rewind quirk and that only he can stop it when she loses control. He asked for our permission to adopt her, and we agreed immediately. My mom insisted on adopting her, too.”
Her voice grew softer, more nostalgic as she set her paintbrush aside, her fingers idly tracing the edge of her canvas. “I think... my mom saw a lot of herself in Eri. She’s always had this need to protect others, to be there for people who are hurting. It made sense that she’d want to be there for Eri, too.”
Katsuki watched her, his chest tightening. “It didn’t make you jealous that Eri got to be with your dad all the time?”
Rosie looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise before she shook her head, a sad smile curling at her lips. “No... I couldn’t be jealous or angry with her even if I wanted to.” She looked down at her hands, her fingers fiddling with a paintbrush. “Here was this little girl who had accidentally killed her dad, been abandoned by her mom, and whose grandfather was in a coma. She spent years being abused and experimented on... I’d have to be a horrible person to feel any negative emotions towards her.”
Her voice wavered, her eyes glassy as she looked back up at him, her lips curving into a bittersweet smile. “Besides... I always liked the idea of having a little sister.”
Katsuki’s chest ached as he listened to her, his heart breaking for both her and Eri. She was so damn selfless, so strong in ways he couldn’t even begin to understand. She carried so much, yet still smiled so beautifully. He swallowed, his throat tight as he reached out, his fingers brushing against hers. “You’re... very compassionate.”
She looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise before her cheeks turned pink, her lips curving into a shy smile. “Thanks, Katsuki.”
He looked away, his cheeks warming as he cleared his throat. “Yeah, whatever. Don’t get all mushy on me.”
Rosie giggled, the sound light and sweet, making his heart flip. She set her canvas aside, wiping her hands on a rag before looking at him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Are you ready to show me your painting?”
Katsuki’s heart skipped, his cheeks flushing. “Yeah... but don’t laugh.”
Rosie’s eyes softened, her lips curving into a gentle smile. “I’d never laugh at you, Katsuki.”
He looked away, his ears turning pink as he grabbed his canvas, turning it around to face her. Her eyes widened, her mouth dropping open as she took in the painting. It was them—captured from one of the photos they had taken at the Photo Booth on their date. Their faces were close, eyes bright with laughter, their smiles wide and genuine.
“Katsuki...” she whispered, her voice trembling. “It’s... beautiful.”
His cheeks burned as he looked away, his shoulders tensing. “Tch. It’s not that good,” he grumbled, his voice rough. “I just... thought it’d be nice to paint.”
Rosie’s eyes filled with tears, her lips quivering as she looked up at him. “I love it,” she whispered, her voice choked. “Thank you.”
His chest tightened, his heart thudding painfully as he looked at her, his throat tight. “Yeah... you’re welcome,” he muttered, his voice softer than he intended.
“I painted this,” she showed him her canvas.
It was chibi versions of their dnd characters. A High elven adventurer and a dragon adventurer.
“Great job, pretty girl.” He praised which only made her shy as she looked away from him, blushing.
“I’m going to get ice cream.” She sputtered and then darted out of the living room causing him to chuckle.
After moving to the couch, Katsuki watched as Rosie carried a bowl of strawberry ice cream and a slice of chocolate cake. As she sat down, Katsuki reached out, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her into his lap, his chin resting on her shoulder. “Gimme a bite.”
He watched as her cheeks flushed, she hesitantly offered him a spoonful of her ice cream. He took the bite, his lips brushing against the spoon, his eyes never leaving hers. It only seemed to fluster her more as she swallowed, her face growing warmer as she took a bite herself.
They fell into a rhythm, taking turns feeding each other, their faces growing closer with each bite. When the bowl was empty, Rosie set it aside, still in his lap, her body pressed against his.
Katsuki’s eyes darkened, his gaze locking onto her lips. “Rosie...” he whispered, his voice low and rough as he leaned in, his mouth capturing hers in a searing kiss.
She gasped, her body melting against him as his hands tangled in her hair, his fingers grasping the back of her neck as he deepened the kiss, his mouth moving against hers hungrily. She tasted like strawberries and chocolate, sweet and addictive, and he couldn’t get enough.
His heart raced as he devoured her, his lips moving with hers, his fingers tightening in her hair as he pulled her closer. She whimpered against his mouth, her fingers curling into his shirt as she kissed him back, her body pressing against his, her heart beating wildly.
Katsuki’s mouth moved along Rosie’s jaw, his lips brushing against her skin as he trailed kisses down her neck, his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh. She shivered beneath his touch, her breath hitching as his hands tightened around her waist, pulling her closer.
“You’re so damn pretty,” he murmured, his voice rough and low, sending shivers down her spine. His lips moved back up to her ear, his breath hot against her skin. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”
Rosie whimpered, her fingers curling into his shirt as his mouth continued its assault on her senses. Her heart raced, her body trembling as his lips met hers once more, his mouth moving against hers with an urgency that left her breathless.
His hands moved up her back, his fingers splaying across her shoulder blades as he held her close, his mouth never once leaving hers. He could feel her heart pounding against her chest, her body warm and soft beneath his hands as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers, hot and demanding.
She was overwhelming, consuming him, her presence all-encompassing, and he was helpless to do anything. But she melted into him, her body responding instinctively to his touch.
“Your lips are so damn soft,” Katsuki growled against her mouth, his voice deep and raw. “So sweet...” He kissed her again, his tongue teasing her bottom lip, his teeth nipping at her gently. “I could kiss you forever and never get enough.”
Rosie whimpered.
Katsuki’s hands moved up to her face, his thumbs brushing against her cheeks as he tilted her head back, his mouth moving to her neck once more. He kissed her softly, his lips warm against her skin before his teeth grazed her pulse point, a low growl rumbling in his chest as she gasped, her body arching into him.
“So sensitive...” he murmured, his lips moving to her collarbone, his mouth tracing the delicate curve as she shivered beneath him. “So perfect...” His hands slid down her back, his fingers pressing into her waist as he pulled her closer, his mouth moving back up to her ear. “Everything about you is so damn cute...”
Her body trembling as his mouth continued to latch onto her skin. He smirked against her skin, his amusement evident as she whimpered, her body reacting helplessly to his touch.
“You’re so pretty when you get flustered,” Katsuki whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. “Your cheeks all pink... your eyes all dazed... your little whimpers...” He kissed her again, his mouth capturing hers, his fingers tightening around her waist as she moaned against him, her body melting into his.
Katsuki groaned, his chest tightening as her fingers tangled in his hair, her nails grazing his scalp as she kissed him back, her lips moving against his with an eagerness that made his heart race. “Fuck, Rosie...” he growled, his voice rough and needy as he broke the kiss, his forehead pressing against hers. “You’re so fucking cute... it pisses me off.”
Rosie’s eyes fluttered open, her vision hazy, her face flushed as she stared up at him, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. Her lips were swollen and red, her strawberry lip gloss smeared, her eyes wide and dazed as she looked up at him, completely speechless.
Katsuki’s heart skipped, his chest tightening as he took in the sight of her—so vulnerable, so beautiful, so perfectly his. A wicked grin curled at his lips as he brushed his thumb against her cheek, his voice low and smug. “You look so damn pretty like this... all breathless and messed up.”
Rosie’s mouth opened and closed, she finally managed to whisper, “Wh-what... what was that for?”
Katsuki’s smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers as he whispered, “You’re so fucking pretty... I couldn’t help myself.”
Rosie’s face turned scarlet, her eyes wide. “I... you... Katsuki...” she stammered, her voice trembling as she looked up at him, completely at a loss for words.
Katsuki’s chest swelled with pride, his heart racing as he watched her squirm, her eyes still hazy, her lips still swollen. “Damn...” he murmured, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face as he looked at her, his voice softening. “You’re so cute.”
Rosie’s heart skipped, her face growing impossibly warmer as she buried her face in his chest, her fingers curling into his shirt as she let out a muffled whine. “Stop teasing me...”
Katsuki laughed, his arms wrapping around her as he held her close, his chin resting on her head as his heart raced, his chest aching as he whispered, “Not a chance, princess.”
Katsuki watched Rosie as she stood beside him, her eyes wide with excitement as she looked out at the go-kart track. She wore a short blue and green plaid skirt that barely reached mid-thigh, paired with a one of his sweaters that was oversized on her. Her hair was pulled back, and she looked absolutely adorable, her cheeks flushed with excitement.
“Katsuki…” Rosie looked up at him, her face a soft pink as she fidgeted. “I’ve never done this before.”
Katsuki smirked, his crimson eyes glinting with mischief. “I’ll teach you,” he said confidently, reaching for the helmet in his hands. “But don’t expect me to go easy on you.”
Rosie’s eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise. “I-I don’t need you to go easy on me!” she huffed, her cheeks puffing out in a pout. “I’ll still beat you!”
Katsuki chuckled, his chest rumbling as he shook his head. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.” He lifted the helmet, gently placing it on her head. His fingers brushed against her cheeks as he adjusted the strap, his eyes narrowing as he noticed how perfectly her skirt hugged her waist, the pleats swaying as she shifted nervously.
His jaw tightened, his hands pausing for a moment as his gaze lingered on her legs. How was she so effortlessly cute? And why the hell did she have to wear something that short when it was windy? His eyes flicked to the side, narrowing as he caught a group of guys staring at her, their eyes lingering on her skirt a little too long for his liking.
Katsuki’s blood boiled, his lips curling into a scowl as he shot them a glare so fierce that they quickly looked away, their faces paling. “Tch. Fucking extras,” he muttered under his breath, his arm instinctively wrapping around Rosie’s waist, pulling her closer to him.
“Katsuki?” Rosie looked up at him, her eyes wide with confusion. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he grunted, his eyes still narrowed as he glared at anyone who dared to look her way. “Just making sure no one bothers you, that’s all.”
Rosie blinked, her face flushing as she realized how close they were standing. “O-Oh... um... okay...” She looked down, her fingers nervously playing with the hem of her skirt.
Katsuki’s gaze softened as he looked at her, his chest tightening at how adorable she was. Damn it. She was gonna be the death of him. “Come on, princess,” he said, his voice gruff as he led her to the go-karts. “Time to see what you’re made of.”
He helped her into her go-kart, his hands lingering on her waist a moment longer than necessary as he made sure she was securely strapped in. “You ready?” he asked, his face close to hers, his breath warm against her cheek.
Rosie looked up at him, her eyes wide behind the helmet, her cheeks a soft pink. “Yeah... I’m ready.”
Katsuki’s lips curled into a smirk as he pulled back, making his way to his own go-kart which was parked right beside hers. “Try to keep up, princess.”
The race began, and Rosie let out a surprised squeal as her go-kart sped forward, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as she tried to keep control. Katsuki zoomed ahead, his movements precise and calculated as he expertly maneuvered the twists and turns of the track.
Thirty minutes later, he won, not only beating Rosie but the fucking losers who were staring at her.
He climbed out of his go-kart, his eyes immediately searching for Rosie. She pulled off her helmet, her hair falling messily around her shoulders as she looked up at him, her face flushed, her eyes bright with exhilaration. Before he could say a word, she rushed up to him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pressed her lips to his in a sweet, impulsive kiss.
Katsuki’s eyes widened, his body freezing in surprise before he quickly recovered, his arms wrapping around her waist as he kissed her back, his lips moving against hers with a possessive hunger. When she finally pulled back, her face was scarlet, her eyes shy as she looked up at him. “I... um... you were amazing,” she whispered.
Katsuki’s chest swelled with pride, his lips curling into a cocky grin. “Damn right, I was,” he teased, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
They headed back to his car, and before long, they were back at his apartment, laughing and chatting as they made their way into his kitchen.
“What would you like to have for dinner?” Katsuki asked, his eyes gleaming with amusement as Rosie stood at the counter.
“You choose,” she mumbled, her cheeks flushing.
Katsuki laughed, his voice deep and warm. “Alright then.”
Katsuki pulled up to Rosie’s workplace, his car idling as he shifted into park. The morning sun cast a golden glow across the city, and he watched as Rosie gathered her things, her hair falling softly around her face as she adjusted the strap of her bag. She looked so damn cute, her white blouse tucked neatly into the black skirt that fluttered around her knees. How the hell did she manage to look so effortlessly pretty?
She turned to him, her eyes sparkling as she smiled. “Thanks for the ride, Katsuki,” she said, her voice soft and warm. “I could’ve walked, you know.”
“Tch. Like I’d let you walk alone this early,” he grumbled, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he tried to play it cool. “I’ll pick you up later for lunch.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Lunch?”
“Yeah,” he muttered, his eyes flicking away as he cleared his throat. “Late lunch. Around two. Then I’ll drop you off at Mina’s place.”
Rosie’s face softened, her cheeks flushing as she looked at him. “You remembered... I’m having that sleepover with the girls tonight.”
“Course I remembered,” he scoffed, his lips curving into a smirk. “Not like you ever shut up about it.”
Rosie’s face turned bright red, her lips forming a pout as she crossed her arms. “I-I don’t talk about it that much!”
“Yeah, you do,” he teased, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he watched her fluster. God, she was adorable. “You’re always yappin’ about your little sleepovers and all the stupid crap you girls get up to.”
“It’s not stupid!” she protested, her face growing redder. “We’re just having fun!”
Katsuki chuckled, his voice low and warm. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, princess.” He leaned over, his lips brushing against her cheek as he whispered, “I’ll see you at two.”
Rosie’s eyes widened, her face heating up as she looked at him, her fingers touching the spot where his lips had been. “O-Okay... I’ll see you then,” she stammered, her heart racing.
Katsuki leaned back, his eyes softening as he watched her fumble with the door handle. “Try not to get into any trouble, alright?”
She looked back at him, her lips curving into a playful smile. “No promises.”
He rolled his eyes, his chest tightening as he watched her climb out of the car, her skirt swaying as she waved goodbye before disappearing into the building.
Katsuki stayed parked for a moment, his fingers gripping the steering wheel as he watched the door she went through. Damn it. How was he supposed to focus on anything today when all he could think about was that stupidly cute smile of hers?
With a heavy sigh, he finally put the car in gear, his lips curving into a soft smile as he pulled away. Two o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.
Chapter 33: Operation Prank War is a go
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki parked his car right outside Mina and Kirishima’s place, the engine still running as he glanced over at Rosie. Her overnight bag sat on the floorboard, the pink fabric overflowing with what he could only assume were ridiculous pajamas and all the crap she insisted on bringing to these sleepovers.
She was curled up in his passenger seat, her legs crossed as she dug into her takeout container, her eyes lighting up as she munched on her favorite noodles. “This is so good,” she sighed, her shoulders relaxing as she savored each bite.
Katsuki couldn’t help but watch her, his heart doing that stupid fluttering thing it always did when she looked happy. “Yeah, well, figured you’d need something good before hangin’ out with Pinky all night,” he teased, his lips curving into a smirk. “No idea how you put up with her for so long.”
Rosie giggled, her eyes sparkling. “Mina’s fun! Besides, I like spending time with the girls... even if they’re loud sometimes.”
Katsuki snorted, shoving a piece of sushi into his mouth. “Loud’s an understatement,” he muttered, his voice muffled as he chewed. “I feel sorry for Shitty Hair, having to live with her.”
Rosie laughed, her shoulders shaking. “Kiri doesn’t mind! Besides, he’s staying at your place tonight, so you two can keep each other company.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki grumbled, his eyes flicking to her bag. “Just try not to stay up all night with your giggling and gossiping.”
Rosie’s face turned red as she shot him a playful glare. “We do not gossip!”
“Sure, princess,” he teased, his eyes gleaming. “Whatever you say.”
She pouted, her lips curving into an adorable frown before she took her last bite of noodles, stuffing her empty container into the bag the food had come in. She glanced at her phone, her face falling as she looked at the time. “I have to go,” she murmured, her voice tinged with disappointment as she reached for her bag.
Before she could grab it, Katsuki’s hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around the back of her neck as he pulled her towards him. Her eyes widened, a gasp escaping her lips just as his mouth crashed against hers.
She whimpered, her fingers curling into his shirt as his lips moved against hers, rough and demanding. Katsuki’s other hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin as he devoured her, his tongue sweeping across her bottom lip. She opened for him, her heart racing as he deepened the kiss, his fingers tightening on her neck.
She was breathless by the time he pulled away, her face flushed, her lips swollen and red. “K-Katsuki...” she stammered, her voice trembling as she looked up at him, her eyes dazed.
Katsuki’s lips curved into a smug smirk, his thumb brushing against her jaw. “Text me when you get inside,” he ordered, his voice low and firm. “And have a great time, yeah?”
Rosie’s face softened, her eyes shimmering as she nodded, her lips curving into a sweet smile. “I will... Thank you for lunch.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, his eyes flicking away as his cheeks turned pink. “Now get outta here before I change my mind and keep you to myself.”
Rosie giggled, her fingers brushing against his as she opened the door, grabbing her overnight bag before stepping out of the car. She glanced back at him, her smile bright and warm. “I’ll see you tomorrow and thank you again for watching Maya.”
Katsuki’s chest tightened, his eyes softening as he watched her walk up to Mina’s door, her hair bouncing with each step. “Yeah... tomorrow,” he murmured, his fingers brushing over his lips as he watched her disappear inside.
With a heavy sigh, he leaned back in his seat, his eyes lingering on the door. How the hell was he supposed to survive a whole night without her?
Rosie pushed open the front door to Mina’s house, her overnight bag slung over her shoulder as she stepped inside. Laughter and excited chatter echoed from the living room, and she was immediately greeted by the sight of Mina, Momo, and Uraraka lounging on the couch, their own bags tossed haphazardly around them.
“There she is!” Mina jumped up, her pink curls bouncing as she rushed over to Rosie, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Took you long enough!”
Rosie laughed, barely able to set down her bag before Mina grabbed her hands, spinning her around. “I just got off work!” she defended, her cheeks flushing as she stumbled. “You know how it is!”
Mina waved her off, her smile widening. “Yeah, yeah. No excuses! Go get changed! We’re going to sing karaoke!”
“Wait, what?” Rosie’s eyes widened, glancing at the others who were grinning just as mischievously. “Already? It’s barely after three!”
Momo giggled, adjusting the strap of her designer purse. “Which means happy hour and half-priced fruity cocktails.”
Uraraka’s eyes sparkled as she pumped her fist into the air. “I’ve been craving a mango margarita all week!”
Rosie’s heart raced with excitement as she felt her shoulders relax, her worries from work melting away. “Alright, alright!” She hurried down the hallway to Mina’s room, her overnight bag bouncing against her hip as she went.
She slipped out of her work uniform, tossing it onto the chair in the corner before rummaging through her bag. Her fingers brushed against soft leather, and she pulled out her black leather shorts, grinning as she slipped them on. They hugged her curves perfectly, the hem resting high on her thighs.
Next, she pulled on a crimson cropped sweater, the soft fabric cozy against her skin while showing just enough of her midriff to feel daring. She completed the look with her favorite pair of ankle boots, the heels giving her an extra boost of confidence.
Rosie checked her reflection in Mina’s full-length mirror, her hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders, her lips glossed with a touch of pink strawberry. Perfect.
She took a quick photo and sent it to Katsuki before rushing back to the living room, where Mina gave an approving whistle. “Damn, girl!”
Rosie’s face turned bright red. “M-Mina!”
Momo and Uraraka giggled as they stood up, linking arms with her. “Come on! Let’s get this party started!” Uraraka cheered, leading the charge towards the front door.
They piled into Mina’s car, laughter and music filling the space as they sang along to their favorite songs. The drive was short, and before they knew it, they were stepping into the lively karaoke bar, the neon lights casting a vibrant glow across the room.
Settling into a private room, they ordered a round of fruity cocktails—strawberry daiquiris, mango margaritas, and peach bellinis—each glass decorated with colorful umbrellas and fresh fruit. Rosie’s cheeks turned pink after the first few sips, the sweetness of her drink making her feel warm and giddy.
Mina was the first to grab the microphone, her voice energetic and bold as she belted out a pop song, dancing around the room as the others cheered her on. Momo followed, her voice elegant and surprisingly soulful as she sang a heartfelt ballad.
Uraraka’s turn had them all laughing as she chose a fast-paced, bubbly tune, her enthusiasm making up for any missed notes. Rosie’s stomach ached from laughing, her heart light and free as she clapped along.
Then it was her turn. She chose a fun, upbeat song, her voice soft at first before she grew more confident, her friends cheering her on. Mina jumped in halfway through, and soon all four of them were singing together, their voices blending into a chaotic, joyful harmony.
Rosie grinned, propping her phone up on the table to record the moment, wanting to capture every laugh, every off-key note, every carefree dance move. She knew she’d want to remember this, the way they sang their hearts out.
As the song ended, they collapsed onto the couch in a fit of laughter, their arms tangled as they leaned on each other. Rosie’s heart felt full, her cheeks aching from smiling so much.
“So now that we’ve crossed that off the list with Uraraka’s choice,” Mina announced, sitting up straighter as she clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Next on our list is Momo’s decision!”
Momo smiled, her fingers gracefully tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I booked us an appointment to get our nails done,” she said, her voice warm and gentle. “I figured we could all use a bit of pampering after everything we’ve been through.”
Rosie’s eyes widened with excitement. “Really?”
Uraraka let out a little squeal, hugging her knees to her chest. “That sounds amazing!”
“And,” Momo continued, a playful glint in her eyes, “I’ll be paying.”
“What? No way!” Rosie gasped, shaking her head. “Momo, you don’t have to—”
“I insist,” Momo interrupted, her smile unwavering. “Think of it as a thank you for being such wonderful friends.”
Mina’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, you’re the best, Momo!” She reached over, wrapping her arms around Momo in a dramatic hug, causing everyone to laugh. “Alright, ladies, finish up those drinks because we’re heading out!”
The excitement was infectious, and soon they were piling back into Mina’s car, the drive filled with laughter and chatter as they made their way to the salon.
The nail salon was bright and elegant, the air scented with lavender and vanilla. They were ushered to plush chairs, their feet soaking in warm, fragrant water as nail technicians began their work.
Mina leaned back, her head resting against the cushion as she sighed in pure bliss. “This was the best idea ever.” She glanced over at Uraraka, who was studying the nail polish colors with intense concentration. “Are you and Izuku going to celebrate your anniversary soon?”
“Yeah,” Uraraka nodded. “He said it’s a surprise though.”
Meanwhile, Rosie turned to Momo, who was carefully choosing a pale pink nail polish. “How are classes going?” Rosie asked. “We’ve got midterms coming up in less than a month, huh?”
Momo sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I know. I’ve been studying every night, but I still feel like there’s so much to cover. The pressure’s really on this year.”
Rosie nodded, her own worries surfacing. “Yeah, I feel the same way. It’s like there’s not enough time in the day to get everything done.”
Momo smiled softly, her expression gentle and understanding. “We’ll get through it together. Maybe we could have a study session sometime?”
Rosie’s face brightened. “I’d love that. I could definitely use some help with my math class.”
Momo giggled, her eyes twinkling. “And I could use some help with English. It’s still my weakest subject.”
They shared a laugh. Just then, Mina leaned over, her eyes sharp and playful. “You know, Momo...”
Momo blinked, turning to look at her. “Yes?”
Mina grinned, her voice teasing. “You should totally shack up with Shoto sometime.”
Momo’s face turned bright red, her eyes widening. “M-Mina!”
“What?” Mina said innocently, shrugging her shoulders. “I’m just saying. You two are practically made for each other. Might as well get some extra study time in... or, you know, something else.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
Uraraka burst into laughter, nearly spilling her drink. Rosie hid her smile behind her hand, trying to contain her own giggles as Momo’s face grew even redder.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Momo stammered, her voice high-pitched as she looked away, clearly flustered.
“Sure, sure,” Mina teased, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied grin. “But if you ever need advice, you know where to find me.”
Momo covered her face with her hands, her voice muffled. “I can’t believe you.”
The rest of the girls dissolved into laughter.
Staring at her crimson-painted nails with little sparkly bows, Rosie admired how delicate and pretty they looked against her pale skin. The girls sat in a cozy booth of a bustling restaurant, the aroma of delicious food wafting through the air. The faint hum of chatter surrounded them as they eagerly looked through their menus.
Mina was the first to perk up when the waiter approached, a handsome young man with a charming smile and neatly styled hair. “Hi there, ladies! Ready to order?” His eyes lingered a bit longer on Momo, who sat beside Rosie, her cheeks already tinged with pink.
Momo looked up, her eyes wide as she smiled politely. “Oh, um, yes. I’ll have the shrimp pasta, please.”
The waiter’s grin grew wider. “Great choice. I bet it’ll be just as lovely as you.”
Mina immediately choked on her water, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she nudged Uraraka under the table, who was struggling to contain her giggles. Rosie bit her lip, barely managing to suppress a laugh.
Momo’s blush deepened as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Th-Thank you...” she stammered, clearly flustered.
The waiter winked before turning to the rest of them. “And for the rest of you?”
“I’ll take the chicken stir-fry,” Uraraka said, her voice high-pitched as she held back her laughter.
“Same here,” Mina added, shooting a playful glance at Momo, who was still visibly embarrassed.
“I’ll have the shrimp pasta as well and a small bowl of ramen,” Rosie chimed in, her lips twitching into a smile.
“Got it,” the waiter confirmed before giving Momo one last charming smile. “I’ll get your orders in right away. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me over.”
As he walked away, Mina burst out laughing, nearly doubling over. “Oh my God, Momo! He was totally flirting with you!”
Uraraka covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking with laughter. “He was so bold, too!”
Rosie giggled, nudging Momo’s shoulder. “I think he was smitten by you, Momo!”
Momo’s face was practically glowing red as she sank into her seat, her hands clasped together. “I... I didn’t know what to say! I’ve never been flirted with like that before!”
Mina grinned, leaning her chin on her hand. “Well, get used to it, girl! You’re gorgeous, and the boys are starting to notice!” She waggled her eyebrows teasingly. “You think Shoto would get jealous if he saw that?”
Momo’s blush deepened, her eyes widening. “M-Mina!”
The table erupted into laughter, their playful teasing filling the air with warmth and joy.
Once they calmed down, the conversation drifted to clothes. Rosie sighed, resting her chin on her hand. “I’ve been wanting to get some new sweaters. It’s getting colder, and I want something cute and cozy.”
“Oh! You should check out that new boutique downtown!” Mina exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “They have the cutest winter collection. I got a plaid skirt from there last week!”
Uraraka’s eyes lit up. “Oh! I love plaid! We should go shopping sometime!”
Momo smiled softly. “I wouldn’t mind joining. I need some new boots.”
“Then it’s settled!” Uraraka clapped her hands together. “Shopping trip next weekend!”
“Actually,” Mina’s eyes gleamed with a new idea. “What if... instead of just shopping, we did something bigger?”
Rosie raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”
Mina’s grin widened. “Like... a class camping trip! Or better yet, what if we rented out a lake house?” Her excitement was contagious, and she continued, her words tumbling out rapidly. “We could go hiking, have a bonfire, go swimming—even roast marshmallows! It’ll be like a mini vacation!”
Rosie’s eyes widened with excitement. “That sounds amazing!”
Momo’s face lit up. “I love that idea! It would be a great way to unwind before midterms.”
Uraraka clapped her hands together. “And we could invite everyone from our class! It’ll be so much fun!”
Mina was already pulling out her phone, her fingers flying over the screen. “I’m texting the group chat right now!”
Rosie’s phone buzzed as the notifications rolled in, the group chat erupting with enthusiasm. Kirishima was all for it, and even Denki and Sero were already debating over who would be in charge of the music.
Mina’s face lit up as she read through the messages. “This is going to be epic!”
Their food arrived shortly after, and they ate with giddy excitement, already planning out the details for the trip. The conversation was filled with laughter and ideas, from who would be in charge of the cooking to planning out who would be brave enough to tell ghost stories by the bonfire.
Once they finished eating and paid the bill, Mina stood up, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Alright, ladies. Ready for tonight’s activity?”
Rosie blinked, her curiosity piqued. “What did you have in mind?”
Mina’s grin was wicked as she held up her phone. “We’re going to the store first. We need supplies.”
Momo looked confused. “Supplies for what?”
Mina’s eyes sparkled. “For pranking all the boys of Class!”
Uraraka’s eyes widened in excitement. “No way! Are we really doing this?”
“Absolutely,” Mina confirmed, her voice filled with determination. “They’ve had it too easy for too long. It’s about time we got some payback!”
Rosie couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m in.”
Momo hesitated for a moment before smiling. “Alright, I suppose a little harmless fun won’t hurt.”
With their spirits high and their mischievous plan in motion, they piled into Mina’s car once more.
They roamed the aisles, picking up rolls of colorful streamers, silly string, and an impressive amount of confetti. Mina even grabbed some fake spiders, her eyes gleaming with delight as she said, “I heard Denki is terrified of bugs.”
The girls laughed as they filled the cart, already envisioning the chaos they were about to unleash.
Mina placed a finger to her lips. “Alright, here’s the plan: we’ll be hitting all of their places even if some of the guys are at Bakugou’s for guy’s night.”
Rosie grinned, her excitement bubbling over. “This is going to be so much fun.”
Mina’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You better believe it. Boys won’t know what hit them.”
With a cart full of supplies and laughter echoing through the store, the girls were ready.
The girls moved through the shadows like ninjas, their laughter barely contained as they crept towards Denki’s apartment. Armed with rolls of neon streamers, silly string, and a bag of fake spiders, they were ready to wreak havoc.
Mina pressed a finger to her lips, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Alright, girls. Operation Prank War is a go.”
Rosie held back a giggle as she handed Uraraka a can of silly string. “Ready?”
Uraraka nodded, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Let’s do this.”
Momo checked her watch. “Denki’s out with Sero, right?”
Mina grinned. “Yup. Which gives us about thirty minutes to set everything up.”
They moved quickly, working as a perfect team. Rosie and Momo strung neon streamers from the ceiling to the floor, creating a maze of paper that would be nearly impossible to navigate. Meanwhile, Uraraka went to work with the silly string, coating every surface in bright neon colors.
Mina carefully placed the fake spiders in strategic locations—on the couch, in the bathroom sink, and one giant one dangling right above Denki’s bed. She grinned wickedly. “He’s going to freak out when he sees these.”
Rosie snapped a picture of their handiwork, her heart racing with excitement. “This is perfect.”
“Alright, next stop: Sero’s place,” Mina announced, pumping her fist into the air.
The girls moved quickly, their laughter muffled behind their hands as they continued their pranking spree. Sero’s apartment was targeted with confetti bombs—carefully rigged to explode the moment he opened his closet door. They left silly string spelling out ‘Gotcha!’ on his bathroom mirror before moving on.
By the time they reached Tokoyami’s house, which he shared with Tsui, they were buzzing with excitement. The moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow that seemed perfectly fitting for Tokoyami’s dark and brooding aesthetic.
Mina grinned as she held up a bag of black balloons. “Alright, girls, let’s fill his room with these. But here’s the twist—each one’s got glitter paint inside.”
Rosie’s eyes widened with excitement. “He’s going to hate us for this.”
Uraraka giggled, already blowing up a balloon. “He’ll be finding glitter for months!”
Momo carefully tied off a balloon, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Let’s get to work.”
They crept inside, careful not to make a sound. Tokoyami’s door was shut tight, and Rosie held her breath as she slowly turned the knob.
The room was pitch black, just as they expected. Posters of ravens and gothic landscapes adorned the walls, and his pet bird, Dark Shadow, was asleep in its cage, letting out soft, sleepy chirps.
“Quietly now,” Mina whispered, her eyes wide with excitement.
They moved quickly, filling the room with black balloons until the floor was covered. Rosie grinned as she placed a particularly large balloon right on Tokoyami’s desk chair.
Mina taped a note to the door in neon pink lettering: ‘Hope you like sparkle!’
Before leaving, Rosie snapped a quick picture, biting her lip to suppress her laughter. “This is going to be legendary.”
They slipped out of the house as quietly as they came, their hearts racing with adrenaline. “Next stop: Shoji’s place,” Mina whispered, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
They arrived at the house Shoji shared with Mineta, Aoyama, and Koda. It was a quaint little place, and the girls grinned at the thought of what they were about to do.
Mina held up a bag of googly eyes. “Alright, here’s the plan. We put these on everything. And I mean everything.”
Rosie’s jaw dropped as she peered into the bag, seeing hundreds of googly eyes in all sizes. “You’re a genius, Mina.”
Momo laughed, already pulling out a roll of double-sided tape. “Let’s get to work.”
They entered the house quietly, thankful that the boys were all heavy sleepers. Mineta’s room was first. They covered his posters, his bookshelf, and even his alarm clock with googly eyes, ignoring the various posters of barely dressed women. Mina placed two giant ones on his pillow, stifling her laughter as she imagined his reaction.
Next, they moved to Shoji’s room. They stuck googly eyes on every limb of his extra arms, then decorated his backpack and water bottles with smaller eyes. Uraraka giggled as she placed a pair on his desk lamp. “This is going to be hilarious.”
Aoyama’s room was next, and they went all out. They stuck the eyes on his sparkling capes, his mirror, and his collection of beauty products. Mina placed some on his hairbrush, giggling. “He’s going to be so confused.”
Finally, they reached Koda’s room. Rosie hesitated, her heart melting a little at the sight of his neatly organized shelves and his collection of animal plushies. But a prank was a prank. They stuck googly eyes on every single plushie, giving them all an adorably creepy look.
Mina took a step back, her hands on her hips. “I think this is our best work yet.”
They snapped pictures of every room, their laughter barely contained.
As they made their way back outside, Mina looked at the girls with a wicked grin. “Last stop: Bakugou’s place.”
Rosie’s heart skipped a beat, her pulse quickening. She couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. Pranking Katsuki was a dangerous game, but one she was more than willing to play.
They piled into Mina’s car, still giggling over the thought of the boys’ reactions.
Rosie’s cheeks hurt from smiling as she leaned back in her seat, her heart racing with anticipation.
Finally, they arrived at the ultimate destination: Katsuki’s apartment. It was the last stop of the night, and the one they were most excited—and nervous—about.
Rosie’s heart thumped wildly as she looked at the door, knowing Katsuki and the guys were inside. Her phone was ready, propped up on the other side of the hall, already recording.
Mina looked at the girls, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Ready?” She held up a bunch of balloons filled with neon-colored paint.
Uraraka’s grin was wicked as she grabbed a few balloons. “This is going to be amazing.”
Rosie took a deep breath, clutching her own balloons tightly. She could barely contain her laughter as she glanced at Momo, who was already shaking with silent giggles.
Mina knocked on the door, her face a picture of innocence as they waited. They all held their breath, balloons at the ready.
The door swung open, revealing Katsuki standing there with an annoyed expression, his eyes narrowing. “What the hell are you—”
His words were cut off as four paint-filled balloons exploded against his chest, neon colors splattering everywhere.
“WHAT THE—” Katsuki roared, his eyes wide with shock as the paint dripped down his shirt.
Behind him, Kirishima, Shoto, and Izuku stared in stunned silence, their mouths hanging open.
Before they could react, the girls launched the rest of the balloons, neon paint splashing across all four boys. Kirishima yelped as pink and yellow dripped down his face. Shoto’s eyes were wide with disbelief as blue paint streaked through his hair, while Izuku just stood there, blinking in shock as green paint splattered his shirt.
“Say cheese!” Mina yelled, snapping a photo of their horrified expressions.
The girls burst into laughter, their giggles echoing through the hall as they turned on their heels and bolted down the corridor.
Rosie laughed so hard that her sides hurt, her heart racing with exhilaration. She was about to take off after them when she remembered her phone. She quickly darted back to grab it, her fingers fumbling as she stopped the recording.
She turned around, only to find Katsuki leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed as neon paint dripped from his hair onto his shoulders. His crimson eyes were locked on her, an amused smirk playing on his lips.
Rosie froze, her heart pounding as she took in the sight of him, completely drenched in paint but looking effortlessly handsome. He raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. “You think you’re real funny, huh?”
Rosie’s cheeks flushed as she bit her lip, trying to stifle her laughter. “Maybe.”
Katsuki’s eyes gleamed with amusement as he watched her, his gaze lingering on her flushed face and sparkling eyes. “You got guts, brat.”
Rosie swallowed, her heart fluttering as his voice dropped, low and teasing. She was rooted to the spot, her eyes locked with his, unable to move.
Katsuki’s smirk widened. “You better watch your back, Rosie. Payback’s a bitch.”
Her eyes widened, her pulse racing. “W-What?”
He chuckled, the sound deep and rich as he pushed off the doorframe, his voice dropping to a near-growl. “I’ll get you back for this.”
Before she could respond, he reached out, flicking her forehead with his paint-splattered fingers, leaving a streak of pink across her skin.
Rosie gasped, her cheeks burning as she stumbled back. “Katsuki!”
He just laughed, his shoulders shaking as he watched her flustered expression. “Better run, dollface. Wouldn’t want me to catch you.”
Her heart skipped a beat at the playful challenge in his voice. She glanced back down the hall where the girls were waiting, still laughing and shouting for her to hurry up.
She looked back at Katsuki, who was still watching her, his eyes shining with amusement and... something else that made her heart race.
He looked completely unfazed by the paint dripping down his face, his blond hair streaked with neon colors that somehow made him look even more handsome. His lips curled into that dangerous smirk, his eyes locked on her as if she were the only person in the world.
Rosie’s breath caught in her throat as she turned on her heel and ran, her heart pounding in her chest as his laughter followed her down the hall.
As she joined the girls, still laughing and breathless, she couldn’t help but glance back one last time. Katsuki was still standing there, leaning against the doorframe, his eyes following her with that same knowing smirk.
And as she rounded the corner, she realized with a shiver that she couldn’t wait to see what his payback would be.
After they had finished pranking the boys, the girls had returned to Mina’s house, barely containing their laughter. It was already nearing midnight, but the night was far from over. They were buzzing with adrenaline and mischief, and it was time for Rosie’s chosen activity: the baking challenge.
They gathered in Mina’s kitchen, a space filled with pink appliances and a colorful assortment of baking tools. Rosie explained the rules with a mischievous grin. “Alright, we have to bake a cake, but there’s a catch—one person is blindfolded, one person has to wear noise-canceling headphones, and the other can’t speak.”
Mina clapped her hands in excitement. “This is going to be epic!”
“Who’s doing what?” Uraraka asked, a mixture of excitement and dread on her face.
“I’ll be blindfolded!” Mina volunteered instantly, grinning like she had just won the lottery.
Rosie handed her the blindfold and then turned to Uraraka. “You’ll be mute. Which means no talking at all. You can only use gestures.”
Uraraka’s eyes widened, but she nodded, sealing her lips in an exaggerated gesture.
“And I’ll wear the headphones,” Rosie continued, placing the noise-canceling headphones over her ears. Instantly, the world went silent, and she could only hear the muffled sound of her own voice.
Momo leaned against the counter, a glass of wine in her hand, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’ll be the camerawoman. This is too good to miss.” She pulled out her phone and started recording, already giggling at the chaos about to unfold.
They were off.
Mina, completely blindfolded, stumbled toward the counter. Her hands reached out, searching for the flour. Her fingers brushed against a bowl, sending it crashing to the floor. “Oops!” she giggled. “I found something!”
Rosie, unable to hear anything, screamed instructions. “MINA, MEASURE TWO CUPS OF FLOUR!” Her voice was unnecessarily loud, but she didn’t notice.
Mina felt around, her hands finding a bag. “Is this the flour?” she asked, holding up a bag of powdered sugar.
Uraraka frantically waved her arms, trying to signal that it was the wrong ingredient. But with no voice, her gestures were wild and exaggerated, looking more like an interpretive dance.
Mina shrugged, opening the bag and dumping it into the mixing bowl. A cloud of powdered sugar erupted, coating the counter—and her. “Why does it smell so sweet?” she asked, completely clueless.
Momo was cackling, her phone pointed at the disaster unfolding. “This is pure gold.”
Rosie continued to shout instructions, oblivious to the mess. “ADD THE EGGS NEXT!” She pointed toward the carton of eggs on the counter.
Mina’s hands flailed until she found the eggs. She grinned triumphantly, cracking one open. Unfortunately, she missed the bowl entirely, the egg splattering onto the counter.
Uraraka’s eyes widened in horror, her hands flapping wildly as she tried to point to the mess. She jumped up and down, desperately trying to get Rosie’s attention, but Rosie was too busy yelling, “MIX IT TOGETHER!”
Mina stuck her hands in the bowl, her fingers sinking into the powdered sugar mixture. “It feels weird!”
“That’s because you’re using your hands!” Momo shouted through her laughter.
Uraraka facepalmed, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. She pointed to the whisk on the counter, but Mina was already elbow-deep in the sticky, sugary concoction.
“IS IT MIXED?” Rosie shouted, still unable to hear anything. She moved to check the bowl, her eyes widening at the sight of Mina’s sticky, flour-covered arms. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
Mina grinned, her face covered in powdered sugar. “I think it’s done!”
Rosie took off the headphones, finally hearing the laughter echoing through the kitchen. She looked at the chaos—eggshells on the counter, sugar everywhere, and Mina’s proud smile. “Oh my God, we’re horrible at this.”
Momo was leaning against the wall, tears of laughter in her eyes. “This is the best night ever.”
After several failed attempts and a lot more flour on the floor than in the bowl, they managed to scrape together a lumpy, questionably edible cake. They stared at it in awe, the icing uneven and the shape completely lopsided.
Mina beamed. “Masterpiece.”
Rosie shook her head, laughing. “Well, it’s definitely… something.”
They took a few pictures of their disastrous creation before retreating to the living room, exhausted but exhilarated.
As the night wound down, they changed into their pajamas, faces still flushed from laughter. Mina grabbed Rosie’s arm, her eyes sparkling. “You’re sleeping in my room tonight.”
Rosie’s heart warmed at the invitation. “You sure?”
“Of course!” Mina grinned. “Besides, we need to talk about your love life.” She wiggled her eyebrows, causing Rosie to blush.
Momo yawned, stretching her arms above her head. “I’ll take the guest room with Uraraka. You two have fun gossiping.”
Uraraka laughed, hugging Rosie before heading toward the guest room. “Night, Rosie!”
“Goodnight!” Rosie called after her, following Mina into her bedroom.
Mina’s room was just as vibrant as she was—pink walls, colorful pillows in every shade imaginable, and posters of pop stars covering every inch of space. There were string lights draped along the headboard, twinkling softly like stars, and a plush pink rug that felt like a cloud beneath Rosie’s feet. A small vanity in the corner was cluttered with makeup, perfume bottles, and hair accessories, reflecting Mina’s playful and colorful style.
Rosie couldn’t help but smile as she took it all in. Despite living with Kirishima, Mina’s personality was splashed across every wall and surface, unapologetically bold and lively. She thought it was cute how Kirishima clearly let her decorate however she wanted. Even the hallway outside Mina’s room had a few framed pictures of them together, smiling and laughing, with bright colors surrounding each photo. It was like Mina’s energy radiated throughout the whole house.
Rosie sat on the bed, sinking into the soft mattress covered with pastel blankets and an army of plushies. “Your room is exactly what I expected,” she teased, looking around at the explosion of pink and glitter.
Mina grinned, throwing herself onto the bed beside Rosie. “Well, duh! I can’t be dull, can I? And Kiri loves it. He says it’s ‘so me.’” She laughed, her eyes twinkling. “He’s such a sweetheart, letting me go all out like this.”
Rosie felt warmth blossom in her chest. It was heartwarming to see how happy Mina was, and how well Kirishima understood her. “You two are adorable,” she admitted, her smile softening.
Mina giggled, hugging a giant stuffed unicorn. “I know, right?” She waggled her eyebrows playfully. “Speaking of adorable…” She scooted closer, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “How are things going with you and Bakugou?”
Rosie’s face turned scarlet, her heart skipping a beat. She was grateful for the dim lighting, hoping Mina wouldn’t notice how flustered she was. She looked down, fidgeting with the hem of her oversized sweater. “Oh… uh, we’re just best friends,” she said quickly, trying to sound nonchalant.
Mina narrowed her eyes, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. “Best friends, huh?”
“Yeah,” Rosie insisted, laughing nervously. “Just… you know, friends. Like always.” She forced herself to meet Mina’s gaze, but she could feel the guilt tightening in her chest. It felt wrong to lie, especially to Mina, who was growing to be one of her closest friends. But she wasn’t ready to share what was really going on. Not yet.
Mina studied her for a moment, her eyes sparkling with suspicion. “Uh-huh. Sure. Whatever you say.” She plopped down on her pillow, stretching her arms above her head. “I still think there’s more to it. You two are always hanging out, and you get all blushy whenever someone mentions his name.”
Rosie’s cheeks burned, but she tried to play it off with a laugh. “I do not!”
Mina just snickered. “Okay, okay. I’ll drop it… for now.” She winked before curling up under the fluffy pink blanket, hugging the unicorn plushie closer. “But if something does happen, you better tell me first.”
Rosie smiled, her heart warming at Mina’s playful teasing. “Of course.”
They settled into the bed, the blankets soft and warm as they lay side by side. Mina yawned, her eyes growing heavy. “Thanks for coming tonight, Rosie. I missed hanging out like this.”
Rosie’s chest tightened with affection. “I missed it too.”
As the room fell into a comfortable silence, Rosie stared up at the twinkling lights, her thoughts drifting to Katsuki. She wondered if he was still awake, if he was thinking about her too. She hugged her pillow tighter, a smile curling on her lips.
Mina’s soft breathing evened out, and Rosie knew she had fallen asleep. Rosie closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the warmth and comfort of the room.
Notes:
Hope you guys love the chapter!💕
Chapter 34: Ready or not, doll here I come.
Notes:
Happy Valentine's Day!
As a gift from me to you, my readers, I have made this one extra long and a bit spicy<3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki sat with his arms crossed, leaning back in the booth as he scanned the faces of the guys around him. His crimson eyes were sharp, his jaw set in determination. They were gathered in the corner of the restaurant, tucked away from prying eyes, their voices low and serious. It was Sunday, and while most people spent this day relaxing, however, the boys were planning a counterattack—a retaliation for the merciless prank war launched by the girls the night before.
Everyone except Aoyama, who had declared the glitter bomb in his room a “fabulous gift” and refused to seek revenge, stating that the sparkles made his room shine even brighter. Ida had shaken his head, muttering about “immature antics” before declining. Ojiro had politely passed, too level-headed to join the chaos not to mention they hadn’t pranked him either, while Koda and Sato simply didn’t have it in them to retaliate as their pranks were just silly.
But that left plenty of them to form a solid strike team.
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed as he looked around the booth. Icy Hot sat beside him, his arms crossed with his usual stoic expression, though there was a faint glimmer of annoyance in his heterochromatic eyes. Deku was next to him, nervously tapping his fingers against the table, clearly conflicted but unable to resist the call for retribution. Kirishima leaned forward, his crimson eyes burning with excitement, always ready to back his friends in any battle—be it in training or prank warfare. Sparky was grinning like an idiot, far too thrilled about the prospect of getting payback.
Tokoyami, Shoji, Mineta, and Sero had just finished ordering when Katsuki’s voice cut through the quiet murmurs of the restaurant. “Alright, listen up,” he growled, his tone low and commanding. “Those girls think they can get away with this? We’re gonna show ‘em who they’re dealing with. But we do it right—we hit ‘em hard and end this prank war once and for all to ensure that it is no mistake that we are the victors.”
Kirishima slammed his fist into his palm. “Hell yeah, man! Those girls were merciless. Glitter bombs, saran wrap, food coloring in the shampoo… I’m still finding sparkles in my hair!”
“They hit me where it hurt the most,” Mineta whimpered, tears in his eyes. “My manga collection… covered in glitter! My poster of Midnight and Mt. lady all have googly eyes! It’ll never be the same.”
Sero’s face was serious for once as he leaned in, his voice low. “I say we hit ‘em back twice as hard. But we gotta be smart about it. Precise. If we go in guns blazing, they’ll retaliate, and we’ll be stuck in a never-ending prank war.”
Katsuki nodded, a smirk curling on his lips. “Exactly. We hit ‘em fast, we hit ‘em hard, and we make sure they never even think about pulling this crap again.”
Tokoyami’s eyes narrowed as he folded his arms. “Tsui, Jirou and Tooru should be left out of this,” he said firmly. “They didn’t participate in the pranks.”
Sero raised an eyebrow, leaning back. “You sure about that? Those girls gave the girls keys to our places. How else did they get inside?” His gaze was sharp, and the others murmured in agreement. “They’re just as guilty. Maybe not the masterminds, but definitely accomplices.”
“I didn’t even know Tooru had a key to my apartment,” Shoji muttered, his brows furrowed. “How the hell did they get our spare keys?”
“Beats me,” Kirishima admitted, rubbing his chin. “But they were way too coordinated. No way they pulled this off without inside help.”
“They had us outnumbered,” Shoto added, his eyes cold. “They planned this perfectly. It’s time we returned the favor.”
Katsuki’s grin was wicked, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. “Damn right. We’re hitting all of ‘em. And we’re doing it right under their noses. No mercy.”
Deku looked hesitant but eventually nodded, a determined look crossing his face. “We’ll make sure they know not to mess with us again. But… we’re not going too far, right? Some of them are our girlfriends.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Relax, nerd. We’re not villains. Just makin’ a statement.”
“Alright, then it’s settled,” Sero said, his grin matching Katsuki’s. “We hit every single one of ‘em. And we make sure they think twice before pullin’ this crap again.”
They all nodded, their resolve solidified. Katsuki leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms as a triumphant smirk played on his lips. This was more than just payback—it was about showing them who was on top.
“And when we’re done,” he growled, his voice low and menacing, “they’ll never dare prank us again.”
The group shared a determined look, the atmosphere tense with anticipation. This wasn’t just retaliation. It was war. And Katsuki Bakugou intended to win.
Heading towards class, Katsuki’s gaze was locked on Rosie as she walked a few steps ahead of him, completely oblivious to the effect she was having on him. She was wearing a white sweater with an adorable little dog printed on the front, paired with a black leather miniskirt that hugged her hips just right. Her long legs were accentuated by those leather heeled boots she loved so much, each step causing her skirt to sway slightly, just enough to make his jaw clench.
Fuck.
He loved the way she walked—confident, carefree, completely unaware of just how goddamn irresistible she was. His eyes trailed up from her toned legs to her perfectly shaped hips, mesmerized by the way they moved so naturally, almost hypnotically. That miniskirt was sinful, and she probably didn’t even realize it. Or maybe she did. Maybe she knew exactly what she was doing to him, strutting around like that.
The thought made his mouth go dry, a heat settling low in his stomach.
Even from several feet away, he could smell her scent—a delicate blend of rainwater, berries, and roses. It was unmistakable, haunting him every time she walked by, teasing him when she wasn’t even around. It was a scent he’d grown addicted to, one that lingered on his sheets, on his pillows, on his clothes after she wore them.
He gritted his teeth, his hands curling into fists in his pockets as he watched her hair sway with every step. She looked so damn cute, so effortlessly gorgeous. He cursed under his breath, trying to shake off the thoughts flooding his mind, but it was useless. Especially after last night.
Last night.
His grip tightened, his jaw clenching as images of her in those leather shorts flashed through his mind—black leather that hugged her ass just right, shaping her curves perfectly. She had worn them with that crimson cropped sweater that showed off just a sliver of her waist.
Fuck, she had looked so good.
It’s the only reason that stopped him from grabbing her and smearing the paint onto her too. But it was those damn shorts that had driven him wild, leaving him a mess of frustration and desire. The way they clung to her hips, how they rode up, teasing him mercilessly.
His fingers were itching to pull her into his arms and keep her close. He had half a mind to drag her back into his apartment right then and there, but he had restrained himself, barely. Only because their friends were there, watching.
God, he loved when she wore those black leather shorts.
His gaze darkened as he watched her walk down the hall, his pulse quickening as her scent continued to taunt him, wrapping around him like a drug he couldn’t quit. She looked so innocent, so sweet in that cute sweater and that stupidly short skirt, and he couldn’t tell if it made it worse or better that she didn’t know just how badly he wanted her.
He almost reconsidered his prank, just for a moment. But then he remembered the neon paint, the way she had laughed as she pelted him with those balloons, how she had run off with that mischievous smirk, leaving him covered in paint as she bolted down the hallway.
No. He wouldn’t let himself be outdone—not even by his pretty little girlfriend.
A wicked grin spread across his face, his crimson eyes narrowing as he picked up his pace, closing the distance between them. Rosie had started this prank war, and he was going to end it. But first…
His gaze dropped to her swaying hips again, his heart thundering in his chest. First, he was going to make her pay for looking that good at almost seven in the morning and driving him insane. She had no right to look that gorgeous this early, no right to walk around in that tiny skirt like it was nothing.
Just before they reached Aizawa’s lecture hall, Katsuki’s patience snapped. Without warning, he reached out and grabbed her hand, his fingers curling around her wrist as he yanked her into an empty lecture hall. The door slammed shut behind them, echoing off the walls.
“Katsuki!” Rosie yelped, stumbling as he pulled her into the room. She barely had a chance to catch her breath before her back hit the wall, the cool surface sending a shiver through her. Her wide eyes met his, confusion swirling in their depths. “What are you—”
Her words died on her lips as his hand slid up, his strong fingers wrapping around her delicate throat, not tight but firm enough to keep her in place. His grip was possessive, his thumb pressing lightly against her pulse point, feeling the rapid beat beneath her skin.
Rosie’s breath hitched, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson as she stared up at him, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. She felt small, vulnerable, completely at his mercy—and she liked it. A shaky whimper escaped her, her hands clutching at his shirt as her legs threatened to give out beneath her. “Katsuki…”
His crimson eyes were dark, blazing with desire as he loomed over her, his body pressing into hers, caging her against the wall. His gaze was intense, his pupils blown wide as he took her in—the way her lips parted, the way her chest heaved with each ragged breath, the way her skirt rode up just enough to reveal the soft skin of her thighs.
“It should be considered a sin that you are so fucking gorgeous,” he growled, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down her spine. His eyes trailed over her flushed face, lingering on her swollen lips that were already stained with that damn strawberry gloss he loved so much.
Rosie’s blush deepened, her fingers tightening around his shirt as she struggled to find her voice. “Katsuki… w-what if someone catches us?” Her voice was soft, breathy, trembling with nerves and anticipation. Her eyes darted to the door, her heart racing at the thought of someone walking in on them like this.
He just chuckled, a wicked grin spreading across his face as his thumb traced slow circles against her neck. “No one will find us,” he murmured, his voice dripping with confidence and heat. “And even if they did…” His eyes flicked to her lips, his gaze hungry, ravenous. “I wouldn’t care.”
Before she could respond, his mouth was on hers, his lips crashing against hers with a desperate, hungry intensity. It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was fierce, passionate, possessive. His lips moved against hers, demanding, devouring her as if he were starving and she was the only thing that could satisfy his hunger.
Rosie whimpered into his mouth, her body arching against him as his grip on her throat tightened just slightly, just enough to make her whimper. She clung to him, her fingers fisting his shirt as his tongue slid past her lips, tasting her, claiming her.
Katsuki growled low in his throat, his free hand moving to her waist, gripping her firmly as he pulled her flush against him, his body pressed against hers with no space left between them. He could feel her heart racing, feel the way she trembled under his touch, completely at his mercy. And god, he loved it.
Her scent was everywhere, wrapping around him, intoxicating him, driving him insane. Rainwater, berries, roses. It was her. It was perfect. She was perfect. Everything about her was annoyingly perfect, from the way she whimpered his name to the way her body fit against his like she was made for him.
He broke the kiss only to drag his lips down her jaw, his mouth moving to her neck as he kissed and nipped at her soft skin, drawing another whimper from her. His teeth scraped lightly against her pulse point, feeling the rapid flutter beneath his lips. “You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?” he muttered against her neck, his voice low and rough, laced with frustration and desire. “Walking around looking like that… making me want you like this…”
Rosie’s breath hitched, her head falling back against the wall as his mouth continued its assault on her neck, her body arching into him, desperate for more. “Katsuki…” she whimpered, her voice trembling as his hand tightened on her waist, holding her in place. “P-please…”
He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes blazing as he took in her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips, the dazed, needy look in her eyes. She looked completely wrecked, completely his. And it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
A wicked grin spread across his face, his thumb brushing over her parted lips, smearing the glossy pink just a little more. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re like this,” he murmured, his voice low and possessive. “Blushing… whimpering… begging for me…”
Her face turned an even deeper shade of red, her eyes widening as she tried to look away, embarrassed and flustered by his words. But he wouldn’t let her, his grip on her throat tightening just slightly as he leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. “Don’t you dare look away,” he whispered, his voice sending shivers down her spine. “I want you to remember this. Remember who you belong to.”
A soft, needy moan escaped her, her body melting against his as she clung to him. Katsuki’s grin widened, his lips brushing over her neck once more before he pulled back, his eyes dark and satisfied as he watched her struggle to catch her breath, her chest heaving, her legs trembling. She looked wrecked, beautiful, perfect.
He released her throat, his fingers trailing down her neck before he stepped back, a smug, satisfied smirk on his face as he watched her try to compose herself. “Better hurry up, princess,” he teased, his voice laced with amusement. “Wouldn’t want you to be late for class.”
Rosie stared at him, her face flushed, her lips swollen and red, her eyes wide with shock and desire. She was speechless, completely dazed, completely at his mercy.
Katsuki’s smirk widened as he watched her, his chest swelling with pride and satisfaction. He turned on his heel, his hands in his pockets as he walked away, his voice echoing behind him. “You’re too damn pretty for your own good, dollface.”
Fucking hell.
He could still taste her strawberry lip gloss. Sweet, sugary, and just a hint of tartness. It clung to his lips, mixing with the faint bitterness of the black coffee he had chugged earlier that morning. Strawberry lip gloss and black coffee. Interesting combination. Perfect, just like her.
His heart was still pounding in his chest, his mind replaying the way she had whimpered his name, the way her body had melted against his. She was too damn cute for her own good, driving him crazy without even realizing it. The way her eyes widened, how her cheeks flushed that perfect shade of pink. He loved every second of it.
When he made his way into Aizawa’s lecture hall, he was still grinning like an idiot, his confidence at an all-time high. He took his usual seat, leaning back casually as he crossed his arms, his eyes glued to the door as he waited for her to walk in.
It only took a couple of minutes before Rosie slipped inside, her head low as she tried to be inconspicuous. Her hair was perfectly in place, not a single strand out of order, and there wasn’t a trace of smudged lip gloss on her mouth. Not a damn thing to show she had just been thoroughly kissed within an inch of her life.
But he knew.
She walked quickly to her seat, her face flushed, her shoulders tense. Her eyes flicked around the room, deliberately avoiding him, even though he knew she could feel his gaze on her. Her hands clutched her notebook tightly, her fingers trembling just the slightest bit as she sank into her seat in the row in front of him.
Katsuki’s grin widened, his eyes narrowing as he watched her squirm. She kept her back to him, her head down as she opened her notebook, pretending to be focused on her notes. But he saw the way her shoulders rose and fell with each shaky breath, the way her hands fumbled as she adjusted her pen.
He was in her head.
Good.
A low chuckle escaped him, his crimson eyes never leaving her as he leaned forward, his arms resting on his desk. He was tempted to reach out and poke her, to see her jump, to watch that adorable blush deepen on her cheeks. But he’d save that for later.
For now, he was more than content to just sit back and watch her. Watch her pretend she wasn’t affected, pretend she was fine, even though her face was still flushed, her body still trembling from his touch. He loved seeing her like this, all flustered and shy, knowing he was the one who did that to her.
His dollface. His pretty little girlfriend. His.
Aizawa entered the room, and the class settled down, but Katsuki’s attention was still on her, his gaze burning into the back of her head as he watched her take notes, her handwriting just a bit messier than usual. His smirk never faded, his chest swelling with satisfaction.
This was going to be a long day.
Later that night, Silven’s was buzzing with energy, the neon lights flashing in vibrant shades of pink and blue as music blasted through the speakers. The bowling alley was packed, the sound of laughter and clattering pins echoing through the building.
Katsuki stood at the bar with Shoto and Kirishima, a cold beer in his hand as he leaned back against the counter. The others were on their way, but a few of them had shown up early to hang out and drink before heading up to the third floor for laser tag.
Shoto was sipping on a whiskey, his usual indifferent expression on his face as Kirishima animatedly talked about some new workout routine he was trying. Katsuki pretended to listen, nodding occasionally, but his attention was elsewhere.
His eyes were locked on Rosie, who was standing with the girls at one of the high-top tables near the bar. She was laughing, her face lit up as she tossed her hair over her shoulder, her smile wide and carefree. Her melodic laughter carried over the music, weaving through the air and wrapping around him, making his chest tighten.
She is stunning.
She was wearing an orange crop top that showed off her toned stomach, the fabric hugging her curves perfectly. A leather miniskirt clung to her hips, showing off her long legs, the glossy material shimmering under the neon lights. Her boots were knee-high, sleek and dangerous, adding to her already irresistible allure.
He could smell her from where he stood, that familiar scent of rainwater, berries, and roses drifting through the air, teasing his senses, making his head spin. It was intoxicating, just like her. He was tempted to storm over there, throw her over his shoulder, and take her home.
Katsuki took a long swig of his beer, his eyes narrowing as he watched her throw her head back, laughing at something Mina said. She looked so damn carefree, so beautiful, so perfect. And he hated how much he wanted her.
“You’re staring again,” Shoto commented, his voice flat as he leaned against the bar beside him, his eyes following Katsuki’s gaze.
Katsuki scoffed, tearing his eyes away from her just long enough to glare at Shoto. “Mind your own business, Icy Hot.”
Kirishima laughed, slapping Katsuki on the back. “She is gorgeous.” Then he leaned over, whispering in her ear, “totally whipped man.”
“Shut the hell up,” Katsuki growled, his cheeks flushing as he looked away, scowling as he took another drink. “I’m not.”
“Yeah, right,” Kirishima teased, grinning wide. “You haven’t taken your eyes off her since we got here.”
Katsuki opened his mouth to argue but closed it just as quickly because they weren’t wrong. He couldn’t stop staring at her. He was hooked, addicted, obsessed. And he didn’t care.
Rosie glanced over at him then, her eyes meeting his across the room. Her face turned pink, her lips parting in surprise before she quickly looked away, her fingers nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Katsuki’s smirk returned, his chest swelling with pride as he watched her squirm under his gaze. She was still flustered from earlier, still thinking about the way he’d kissed her, touched her, left her breathless and wanting more.
Good.
He watched as she fidgeted, her fingers playing with the hem of her skirt as she tried to focus on her conversation with Mina and Momo, her eyes flicking back to him every few seconds. Her blush deepened each time she caught him staring, and she quickly looked away, pretending to be interested in her drink.
Katsuki’s grip tightened around his glass, his eyes darkening as he watched her shift on her feet, her skirt riding up just a little higher. Fuck, she was too damn cute. Too damn perfect.
And she was his.
“Are we the last ones?” Deku asked as he approached, his eyes wide with curiosity.
“Yeah,” Todoroki said, finishing his drink. “Tokoyami, Tsui, and Shoji went upstairs already. They’re reserving us a time.”
Uraraka gave Deku a bright smile before heading over to join the other girls, her laughter mixing with theirs as they continued to chat at the standing tables.
Deku watched her go, his eyes softening before he turned back to his friends, catching the beer Kirishima tossed his way. He popped the cap off, taking a long swig before leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Is everything set?”
“Yeah,” Shoto said, his face impassive as ever, but there was a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Everything’s in place. They won’t see it coming.”
Katsuki’s lips curled into a wicked grin as he crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes still fixed on Rosie as she laughed at something Mina said. He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she realized what they’d done. Payback was going to be so damn sweet.
Kirishima laughed, slapping a hand on Kaminari’s back. “Man, I can’t believe we pulled it off. You sure it’s all good to go?”
Kaminari grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Hell yeah! I triple-checked everything. They won’t know what hit ’em.”
They had been planning this since the night of the pranks, determined to get the girls back for what they had done. The neon paint balloons, the glitter bombs, the saran-wrapped furniture—oh, they were going to pay. And pay dearly.
The plan was simple but brilliant. They were going to strike during laser tag. The perfect setup. Dark rooms, flashing lights, loud music—chaos everywhere. It was the perfect cover.
“They have no idea?” Deku asked, his eyes darting over to the girls to make sure they were still occupied.
Katsuki snorted, rolling his eyes. “Of course they don’t. They think they got away with that little stunt.” He shook his head, his fingers flexing with anticipation. “They’re gonna regret it.”
Shoto smirked, his usual stoic demeanor cracking just enough to reveal his amusement. “Especially when they see the neon glitter bombs.”
“Oh, man,” Kaminari cackled, practically vibrating with excitement. “That’s the best part. It’s not just glitter. It’s neon glow-in-the-dark glitter.”
Kirishima grinned, his sharp teeth flashing as he ran a hand through his hair. “They’ll be shining for days. No way they’re getting that stuff out easily.”
“They deserve it,” Tokoyami’s deep voice cut in as he approached the group, his arms crossed over his chest. “But leave Tsui and Tooru out of it. They didn’t participate.”
Sero raised an eyebrow, leaning against the bar with a smug grin. “Oh, come on, Tokoyami. They’re the ones who gave the others the keys. If it weren’t for them, none of the girls would’ve gotten into our rooms.”
“That’s right,” Kaminari chimed in, his grin wicked. “They’re accomplices. That makes them fair game.”
Tokoyami’s eyes narrowed, a sigh escaping him. “Fine. But make it quick. I don’t want Tsui too involved in this prank war.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. They’ll get off easy compared to the others. But we’re not holding back on the rest.”
Shoto nodded, his expression serious. “I’ve already set up the smoke machines in the laser tag arena. They’ll be disoriented. That’s when we strike.”
Kirishima cracked his knuckles, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “And once they’re confused, we hit them with the glitter bombs and the paint-filled water balloons.”
“They won’t even see it coming,” Deku added, his eyes flicking over to Uraraka, a small smile playing on his lips. “They’re so confident. They think they won.”
Katsuki’s smirk widened, his gaze never leaving Rosie. “Not for long. We’re ending this tonight.”
Kaminari’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “And just to be sure they remember this, I rigged the exit with confetti cannons. The second they leave the arena, they’ll be drenched in neon-colored confetti.”
Sero burst out laughing, clutching his stomach. “Dude, that’s genius! They’ll be cleaning up glitter and confetti for weeks!”
Kirishima grinned, his eyes bright with anticipation. “This’ll teach them not to mess with us.”
“They’ll think twice before trying to prank us again,” Shoto agreed, his voice calm but his eyes burning with excitement.
Katsuki downed the rest of his beer, his eyes narrowing as he watched Rosie laugh and twirl a strand of hair around her finger. She looked so damn cute, so innocent, completely oblivious to the chaos that was about to rain down on her.
Good.
Let her have her fun now. She’d be screaming his name in anger soon enough.
“They deserve this,” he muttered, his fingers curling into fists. “And I’m gonna enjoy every second of it.”
Kirishima laughed, clapping him on the back. “That’s the spirit, bro!”
“Alright,” Shoto said, his voice low as he straightened up. “Let’s get upstairs. We don’t want them getting suspicious.”
The guys nodded, their faces serious as they began to make their way toward the stairs. Katsuki took one last look at Rosie before following his friends, his heart pounding with excitement.
As they gathered in the staging area to strap on their vests and grab the laser guns, Katsuki’s eyes zeroed in on Rosie, who was struggling with her vest, her brows furrowed in concentration as she tried to tighten the straps herself.
She looked so damn cute, her tongue poking out slightly as she fumbled with the buckles. He smirked, taking a step towards her, fully intending to help—after all, it was his job as her boyfriend, wasn’t it?
But before he could reach her, Shoto was already there, his face calm and composed as always as he reached out, his fingers deftly tightening the straps on Rosie’s vest.
Katsuki’s body went rigid, his eyes narrowing into slits as he watched Shoto’s hands on his girl. His girl. His jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together as jealousy flooded his chest, hot and burning.
The fuck does he think he’s doing?
He watched as Shoto leaned in closer, his face dangerously close to Rosie’s as he made sure the vest was secure. Rosie blinked up at Shoto, a small, grateful smile gracing her lips. “Thanks, Shoto! I was having a hard time with it.”
Katsuki felt his fingers twitch, a growl rumbling low in his throat. Oh, that pretty boy bastard was going to pay. Did he think Katsuki wouldn’t notice? Did he think it was okay to touch her like that?
Shoto’s hand lingered just a second too long before he pulled back, his face as neutral as ever as he gave Rosie a nod. “No problem. Wouldn’t want you to get hit because of a loose vest.”
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed even further, his temper simmering beneath the surface. He knew Shoto wasn’t doing it on purpose—hell, Icy Hot was too damn oblivious for that—but it didn’t matter. No one touched what belonged to him.
As they made their way towards the entrance of the laser tag arena, the girls were laughing and chatting excitedly, completely unaware of what was waiting for them. Katsuki’s eyes flicked to Shoto, who was walking alongside Rosie, his hands now stuffed in his pockets, his expression impassive.
A wicked grin spread across Katsuki’s face. The pretty boy bastard was about to learn a valuable lesson.
He leaned over to Kaminari, his voice low and dangerous. “Make sure Icy Hot gets hit too. I want him covered in glitter and paint, just like the girls.”
Kaminari blinked in surprise but quickly grinned, nodding eagerly. “You got it, man.”
Satisfied, Katsuki straightened up, his eyes gleaming with anticipation as they reached the entrance. He watched as the girls excitedly walked in first, Rosie bouncing on her toes in excitement.
The second they stepped into the darkened arena, chaos erupted.
BOOM!
Neon glitter exploded from above, raining down on them in a dazzling, glowing storm. Confetti cannons went off from the sides, blasting them with bright, colorful bits of paper that stuck to their hair and clothes. And then came the final touch—neon paint balloons burst, splattering the girls in a cascade of vibrant colors.
“AAAAHHH!” Mina screamed, her eyes wide as she looked down at herself, covered head to toe in neon pink and blue paint. “WHAT THE HELL?!”
Uraraka let out a shriek, spinning around as the glitter continued to rain down on her, sticking to the paint and covering her in sparkles. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!”
Momo looked utterly horrified, her hair dripping with neon yellow paint and confetti. She held her hands out in front of her, her fingers coated in glitter as she stared at herself in disbelief. “This… This is a disaster!”
Rosie stood frozen in shock, her mouth hanging open as she looked down at her once-perfect outfit now drenched in neon pink, blue and lime green paint. Her hair was tangled with confetti, and her skin shimmered with the neon glitter. “You… YOU GUYS!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the arena. “YOU’RE DEAD!”
The guys erupted into laughter, their faces lighting up with triumph as they watched the girls spin around in outrage.
Well, all of them except Shoto, who stood frozen in place, his white-and-red hair now streaked with bright neon purple paint and glitter. He blinked, his face a perfect mask of shock as he slowly turned to glare at Katsuki.
Katsuki just grinned, shrugging innocently. “Guess you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, Icy Hot.”
Shoto’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but before he could retaliate, the girls’ enraged screams echoed through the arena.
“GET THEM!” Mina shouted, her eyes blazing with fury as she charged forward, her hair sparkling with neon glitter.
Rosie was right behind her, her eyes locked on Katsuki, her face twisted in rage. “YOU’RE DEAD, BAKUGOU!”
Katsuki’s grin widened, adrenaline surging through him. “Catch me if you can!”
He took off into the labyrinth of the two-story laser tag arena, the other guys close behind him, their laughter ringing out as the girls chased them with murder in their eyes.
The arena was a maze of walls, ramps, and tunnels, flashing neon lights casting eerie glows across the floor. Katsuki weaved through the corridors with ease, his body moving on instinct as he dodged around corners and ducked behind obstacles.
He could hear Rosie’s voice behind him, her angry shouts echoing through the arena. He couldn’t help but chuckle, his chest tightening with excitement. Damn, he loved when she got all riled up like that.
He activated his quirk just enough to boost his jumps, launching himself up to the second floor of the arena in one smooth motion. From above, he could see the chaos unfolding below—Mina blasting pink acid at the walls in frustration, Uraraka floating herself up to gain a better vantage point, and Momo trying to create a shield to protect herself from the neon paint still dripping from the walls.
Katsuki’s grin widened as he lifted his laser gun, firing off shots at the girls and racking up points with ease. The flashing lights of the arena masked his explosions, allowing him to move quickly and silently through the labyrinth.
He heard Rosie scream in frustration as her vest lit up, signaling she’d been hit. He laughed, his heart racing with exhilaration as he moved deeper into the maze, her angry shouts echoing behind him.
Payback never felt so damn good.
Katsuki’s eyes widened as his vest lit up, the loud buzz signaling that he’d been hit. He spun around, his jaw dropping when he saw Rosie standing just a few feet away, her neon-splattered figure illuminated by the flashing lights of the arena. Her crop top and mini skirt were smeared with vibrant neon pink, blue and lime green paint, glitter sparkling across her skin and hair as she grinned at him, her laser gun pointed right at his chest.
“Found you,” she said, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
Katsuki’s shock quickly morphed into a scowl, his fists clenching as he realized she’d snuck up on him. “You already shot me, what could you possibly do more?” he challenged, his voice low and taunting.
Rosie’s grin only widened, her eyes dancing with wicked intent. “Oh, Katsuki… I can do so much more.”
Before he could even process her words, she lunged at him, catching him completely off guard. He stumbled back, his back slamming into the wall behind him as she pressed herself against him, her body molding perfectly to his as she grinded herself all over him.
“What th–?!” he sputtered, his eyes wide as he tried to steady himself, his hands instinctively gripping her hips to keep her from slipping. But the second his fingers touched the slick paint on her skin, he knew he’d been played.
She twisted her body against his, making sure every inch of her paint-smeared figure rubbed against him, leaving streaks of neon pink, blue and lime green paint across his black shirt and jeans. Glitter transferred onto his arms and chest, the tiny sparkles clinging to his skin as she moved.
She tilted her head up, her eyes locked on his as she gave him a wicked smile. “What’s wrong, Katsuki? You look a little… colorful.”
His mouth went dry, his heart thundering in his chest as she kept moving against him, her body impossibly close to his. The faint scent of her perfume—rainwater, berries, and roses—mixed with the smell of the neon paint, creating a dizzying effect that made his head spin.
“You little—” he growled, his grip tightening on her hips as he tried to regain control, but she was too quick. She leaned in, her lips brushing his cheek as she kissed him sweetly, her lips soft and warm against his skin.
His breath hitched, his body freezing as her mouth lingered for just a moment longer than necessary, her lips leaving behind a faint trace of her strawberry lip gloss. Before he could even react, she pulled back, a satisfied smirk on her face as she raised her laser gun again.
“Boom,” she whispered, her finger pulling the trigger.
His vest buzzed loudly once more, signaling another hit. Katsuki’s eyes went wide as she shot him point-blank, the flashing lights illuminating her triumphant expression.
She winked at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Payback’s a bitch, huh?”
And just like that, she was gone, sprinting off down the corridor before he could even move, her laughter echoing through the maze as she disappeared around the corner. Most likely to shoot the others.
Katsuki stood there, completely dumbfounded, his back still pressed against the wall as he tried to process what just happened. His heart was pounding in his chest, his skin tingling with the lingering sensation of her body against his, her lips still warm on his cheek.
He glanced down at himself, his eyes widening at the neon pink paint smeared across his shirt and pants, glitter sparkling across his skin. Even his hands were covered, the glitter clinging to his fingers from where he’d grabbed her hips.
Slowly, a grin spread across his face, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest as he shook his head. That little minx…
She played him. She played him perfectly, and she knew it.
He ran a hand through his hair, wincing as his fingers got tangled in the confetti and glitter that now decorated his hair. She’d made him a damn rainbow, and she had the audacity to kiss him and run off like it was nothing.
His eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a wicked smirk as adrenaline surged through him. Oh, she wanted to play games, huh? Well, two could play at that. His fingers tightened around his laser gun as he pushed off the wall, his body moving swiftly as he took off down the corridor. He could still hear her laughter echoing through the maze, her taunting voice guiding him as he chased after her.
He wouldn’t let her get away with this. Not a chance in hell.
His blood was boiling, his pulse racing as he rounded the corner, his eyes scanning the darkened labyrinth for any sign of her. She was fast, he’d give her that, but she couldn’t outrun him forever.
She’d started this war, and he was going to finish it.
And when he caught her, she’d pay for every single speck of glitter, every smear of paint, and every second of that sweet, infuriating kiss.
His grin widened, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
Ready or not, doll here I come.
Notes:
Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I know I did! Have a great day!
Chapter 35: I like these stolen moments with you
Notes:
I've been hungover all day from coming in at 3 am black out drunk lol, so I'm sorry for the late update and for the mess of what this chapter is. I'll go back and edit it correctly tonight or tomorrow. Anyway enjoy! I'm going to go eat and do some self care lol
Chapter Text
Rosie’s laughter echoed through the maze-like corridors of the laser tag arena as she sprinted around another corner, her heart pounding with exhilaration. Her vest vibrated as she racked up another point, her laser gun lighting up with each successful hit. She had already taken out Kaminari twice and managed to shoot Mineta before he even saw her coming.
She ducked behind a stack of neon barrels, her back pressing against the cold surface as she caught her breath, a grin spreading across her face. The arena was a chaotic blend of flashing lights, thumping bass music, and distant shouts of outrage and excitement. It was the perfect cover for her to move undetected.
Peeking around the corner, she spotted Momo and Mina crouched behind a wall, whispering frantically as they tried to strategize. With a mischievous smirk, she aimed her gun and fired, hitting both of them in quick succession. Their vests buzzed loudly, and they spun around, their mouths dropping open in shock.
“Rosie! Not you too!” Mina shouted, her voice echoing through the arena.
Rosie just blew them a playful kiss before darting off down another corridor, her laughter trailing behind her. She navigated the dark hallways with ease, her body moving swiftly as she took advantage of every hidden corner and shadowed passage.
Her eyes gleamed with excitement as she spotted her next target—Sero, crouched behind a stack of crates, his attention focused on ambushing Uraraka. Rosie moved silently, her footsteps light as she crept closer. She raised her laser gun, her finger hovering over the trigger.
But just as she was about to fire, her entire body tensed, a shiver running down her spine. She could feel him before she even saw him.
Katsuki.
Her heart skipped a beat, her senses on high alert as she whipped around, her eyes scanning the maze-like corridors. She couldn’t see him, but she knew he was there—hunting her.
Her pulse quickened, her body buzzing with adrenaline as she took off again, weaving through the labyrinth of glowing barriers and flashing lights. Her laughter was muffled by the booming music, but she couldn’t help herself. This was fun—so much fun.
She turned another corner, nearly colliding with Shoto, who blinked at her in surprise.
“Sorry, Shoto!” she teased, shooting him right in the chest before dashing off again. His vest buzzed, his expression slack with shock as she disappeared around the corner.
She could hear his voice faintly as he shouted after her, “Unbelievable…”
Rosie grinned, her heart pounding as she continued her escape. But she couldn’t relax—not yet. Katsuki was still after her, and she knew he wouldn’t stop until he caught her.
The thought sent a thrill down her spine, her cheeks flushing as she imagined his fierce, determined expression. She could almost feel his hands on her again, his grip tight on her waist as he pulled her against him…
She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Focus, Rosie. This was a game, and she was winning. She wouldn’t let herself get distracted just because her ridiculously hot boyfriend is chasing her.
She slid around another corner, her eyes catching sight of Kirishima as he sprinted down a corridor, his back turned to her. She didn’t hesitate, firing a quick shot that hit him square in the back.
He spun around, his eyes widening as his vest buzzed. “Rosie?! You traitor!”
She just winked at him, blowing him a playful raspberry before taking off again. Her laughter echoed through the arena as she navigated the labyrinth, her body moving on instinct as she dodged incoming lasers and fired off shots at anyone who crossed her path.
She was on a roll—unstoppable. The scoreboard was probably lighting up with her name right now.
But her luck ran out when she turned the next corner and slammed right into a solid wall of muscle. She yelped as she stumbled back, her eyes widening as she looked up and saw him.
Katsuki stood before her, his arms crossed and his crimson eyes locked on her with a predatory gleam. His vest was smeared with neon pink paint, glitter sparkling across his hair and skin. Her glitter. Her paint.
His lips curled into a wicked smirk as he took a step closer, his voice low and dangerous. “Thought you could run from me, huh?”
Rosie’s heart skipped a beat, her body tensing as she took a step back, her back hitting the wall behind her. Her eyes darted to the side, looking for an escape route, but he was already moving, his body blocking her path as he leaned in closer.
“You look cute when you run,” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. “But you’re not getting away this time.”
Her breath caught in her throat as his face hovered just inches from hers, his eyes gleaming with challenge. Her fingers tightened around her laser gun, her heart racing as she tried to think of a way out.
But her mind was blank, her body frozen as his scent surrounded her—smoky and warm, tinged with that familiar hint of caramel.
She was trapped, completely at his mercy. And judging by the look in his eyes, he knew it too.
His smirk widened, his voice dropping to a taunting whisper. “What’s the matter, doll? Cat got your tongue?”
Rosie’s eyes narrowed, her competitive spirit flaring as she met his gaze head-on. “Not a chance, Katsuki.”
With a sudden burst of movement, she ducked under his arm, spinning around him as she took off down the corridor, her laughter ringing out as she made her escape.
Katsuki stared after her, his eyes wide with shock before a low growl escaped his throat.
“That little…” he grumbled, his hands clenching into fists as he took off after her.
Rosie’s heart raced as she sprinted through the maze, her laughter echoing through the arena. She could hear him behind her, his footsteps growing closer as he chased her, his voice calling out in that deep, commanding tone that always made her shiver.
“Keep running, Rosie! I’m gonna catch you!”
She didn’t doubt that for a second, but she wasn’t about to make it easy for him. Not when she was having this much fun.
With her adrenaline pumping and her heart soaring, she pushed herself to run faster, weaving through the labyrinth as she continued the chase, her laughter blending with his growls as they raced through the neon-lit maze.
This was the most fun she’d had in ages, and she wasn’t about to let him catch her—not yet.
By the time the hour was up, the laser tag arena was a chaotic masterpiece of neon paint splatters, shimmering glitter, and colorful confetti scattered across every surface. The once-dark corridors were now illuminated with vibrant streaks of pink and green, and the air was filled with the lingering scent of sweat and adrenaline.
Rosie stood triumphantly at the exit, her chest heaving as she caught her breath, a satisfied grin plastered across her face. Her once-cute outfit was now a colorful mess, splattered with neon paint and flecked with glitter that sparkled under the fluorescent lights. Her hair was wild, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes gleamed with victorious pride.
The rest of the group stumbled out behind her, looking just as messy and exhausted. Mina was furiously trying to wipe neon paint off her arms, grumbling under her breath about revenge. Momo was brushing glitter from her hair, her lips pursed in annoyance, while Jirou just shook her head, her expression a mix of frustration and amusement.
“Alright, who the hell set off the glitter bombs?” Jirou demanded, her eyes narrowing as she glared at the boys.
Kaminari just shrugged, his cheeky grin giving him away. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
Mina pointed an accusing finger at him, “Liar! I heard you and Kirishima laughing before the paint even hit us!”
Kirishima tried to look innocent, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Hey, we had to get even for last night’s glitter apocalypse.”
Rosie just laughed, shaking her head as she watched them argue. Her heart was still racing, her body thrumming with exhilaration. This was by far the best laser tag game she’d ever played.
A loud beep caught their attention, and they all turned to look at the scoreboard that hung above the entrance. Their eyes widened as the final scores appeared on the screen, the numbers flashing in bright neon letters.
First Place: Rosie – 5,490 points
Rosie blinked in surprise before a wide grin spread across her face. “No way… I won?”
“WHAT?!” Mina shrieked, her jaw dropping as she stared at the scoreboard. “How the hell did you get that many points?!”
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching as he read the scoreboard again. He was in second place with 4,980 points—just shy of Rosie’s score. He shot her a glare, his pride stinging. “You cheated,” he growled, his eyes narrowing. “No way you beat me fair and square.”
Rosie just smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Don’t be a sore loser, Katsuki. Just admit it—I’m better at laser tag than you.”
Katsuki’s eye twitched, his hands curling into fists as he fought the urge to argue. But the smug look on her face was making it really damn hard to hold back.
“You little—”
Kirishima burst out laughing, clapping Katsuki on the back. “Dude, she beat all of us! Just take the loss with some dignity.”
“Yeah, man,” Kaminari chimed in, grinning. “You got shown up by a girl. That’s gotta sting.”
Katsuki’s glare was deadly, his teeth grinding together as the rest of the group snickered. Rosie just stuck out her tongue playfully, blowing him a kiss before turning away to unstrap her vest. They made their way to the equipment room, everyone groaning as they peeled off the heavy vests and put away their laser guns. The worker behind the counter gaped at them, his eyes wide as he took in the mess of paint, glitter, and confetti covering every inch of their clothes and hair.
“You guys… what did you do to the arena?” the worker asked, his voice faint with disbelief.
They all glanced at each other, exchanging sheepish looks before Kaminari shrugged. “Uh… we had fun?”
The worker’s face fell, his shoulders slumping as he realized he’d be the one to clean it all up. “I’m so getting fired for this…”
Rosie stifled a giggle, feeling a tiny pang of guilt before she turned to grab her purse. “Well, this was fun, but I should head home and clean up. I’ve got paint in places I didn’t even know paint could get.”
Katsuki was at her side in an instant, his hand casually resting on her lower back as he leaned in close. “I’ll drive you home.”
Rosie’s heart skipped a beat, her cheeks flushing as she looked up at him. He was still a mess—his hair dusted with glitter, his clothes stained with neon paint—but he looked so damn good standing there, his crimson eyes locked on hers. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” he interrupted, his voice firm. “You’re not taking the train looking like this. C’mon.”
Rosie’s heart fluttered, her protests dying on her lips as she nodded. “Okay… thanks.”
“I should head home too,” Momo sighed, brushing more glitter from her hair. “We’ve got class tomorrow, and I need to wash this paint out.”
Mina groaned, her shoulders sagging. “Ugh, don’t remind me. Aizawa’s gonna kill us if we show up late.”
“Yeah, I’m out too,” Kirishima said, stretching his arms above his head. “Gotta get this paint off before it stains.”
Izuku nodded, glancing down at his own glitter-covered clothes. “Same. We’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“Alright, alright, let’s all head out before they charge us for the cleanup,” Kaminari joked, earning a half-hearted laugh from the group.
They all made their way to the exit, saying their goodbyes before heading in different directions. Rosie felt Katsuki’s hand on her lower back again now that they were far from the others, guiding her toward his car, his touch warm and possessive.
She couldn’t help but smile, her heart fluttering as she leaned into him, her body still buzzing from the thrill of the game.
Katsuki walked her up to her apartment, his hand resting possessively on her lower back as they made their way up the stairs. Rosie’s heart raced the entire way, her skin tingling with anticipation. She could feel his eyes on her, burning into her like a flame she couldn’t escape.
The moment they stepped inside, she knew she was in trouble.
The door slammed shut behind them, the echo reverberating through her small apartment, and before she could even take off her boots, Katsuki’s eyes darkened, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
“You think you’re funny, huh?” His voice was low and rough, laced with challenge. “Shooting me, smearing me with paint, then kissing me just to get away?”
Rosie’s heart skipped a beat, her cheeks flushing as she remembered the way his eyes had widened when she’d shot him and ran off, laughing. The way he’d cursed, his voice echoing through the arena as he chased after her.
She took a step back, a nervous giggle escaping her as she saw him take a step forward, his predatory gaze locked on her. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
His eyebrow twitched, his smirk widening as his fingers flexed at his sides. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, dollface. You played dirty.”
“Me? Playing dirty?” She gasped in feigned innocence, taking another step back, her body bumping into the edge of her couch. “You boys were the ones who set up glitter bombs and paint traps! I just… adapted to the situation.”
Katsuki’s eyes gleamed with amusement, his grin turning feral. “Adapted, huh? Is that what you call grinding all over me and then running off?”
Rosie’s face turned scarlet, her heart skipping a beat as she remembered the way she’d pressed herself against him, smearing him with paint and glitter just before kissing his cheek and darting off. It had been a bold move—a risky one—but seeing him dumbfounded and flushed had been worth it.
She swallowed, her legs trembling as she took another step back, her eyes flicking to the hallway that led to her bedroom. If she could just get there…
She didn’t get the chance.
Katsuki lunged forward, and she let out a squeal, spinning on her heel and bolting down the hallway, her laughter echoing off the walls.
“Get back here!” he growled, his footsteps heavy behind her. “You think you can just get away with that?”
She darted around the corner, dodging her coffee table and diving behind the armchair, peeking out just as he rounded the corner, his eyes blazing with determination.
“Katsuki!” she squealed, her heart racing as he stalked toward her, his movements slow and calculated. “We’re even! I didn’t do anything worse than you did!”
“You humiliated me in front of the others,” he teased, his voice low and dangerous. “That deserves punishment.”
Rosie’s heart leaped into her throat, a shiver running down her spine as she ducked behind the armchair, using it as a shield. “Oh, come on! You’re overreacting!”
He snorted, his lips curling into a smirk. “I don’t overreact. You should know that by now, Rosie.”
She peeked out again, her heart hammering in her chest as she saw him circling the chair, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking his prey. She took a step back, then another, inching her way toward her bedroom door.
Katsuki’s eyes flicked to her feet, his smirk widening. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Her eyes widened, and she bolted. “Nowhere!”
She dashed down the hallway, her laughter echoing behind her as she heard him curse under his breath and chase after her. Her feet pounded against the floor as she sprinted toward her bedroom, her fingers brushing the door handle just as his arms wrapped around her from behind.
She squealed, her body jerking as he lifted her off her feet, his grip strong and unyielding. “Gotcha,” he growled, his voice rough in her ear.
“Katsuki! Put me down!” she protested, her laughter bubbling up as she wiggled in his arms, trying to break free. But his hold was like iron, his chest pressed against her back as he pinned her in place.
“You played dirty,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “Now it’s my turn.”
Her breath hitched as his hand slid up her waist, his fingers splaying over her stomach, holding her tight against him. She felt his lips on her neck, hot and demanding as he kissed her skin, his teeth grazing her collarbone.
“K-Katsuki…” she whimpered, her body trembling as she leaned back against him, her head falling against his shoulder. “This… this isn’t fair…”
He chuckled, his breath hot against her neck. “You don’t play fair, Rosie. Not after what you pulled tonight.”
She blushed, her eyes fluttering as he continued his assault on her neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched. Her knees went weak, her hands gripping his arms as she struggled to stay upright.
“You… you’re cheating…” she whispered, her voice trembling as she fought to catch her breath.
He hummed in amusement, his teeth grazing her earlobe. “Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it, huh?”
She squirmed in his arms, her laughter bubbling up again as she tried to twist away. “I… I’ll get you back! I’ll—”
He spun her around, pressing her back against the wall as his hands settled on her hips, his body caging hers in. “You’ll what?” he challenged, his crimson eyes locking onto hers, daring her to fight back.
Her breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding as she stared up at him, his face so close that she could see the gold flecks in his eyes. “I… I’ll…”
He smirked, leaning in until his lips brushed against hers. “That’s what I thought.”
Before she could respond, his mouth was on hers, his lips hot and demanding as he kissed her, his hands tightening on her hips as he pulled her closer. She melted against him, her fingers tangling in his hair as she kissed him back, her body arching into his.
His tongue traced her bottom lip, and she gasped, her mouth opening to him as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing her against the wall as if he couldn’t get close enough.
Her head spun, her heart racing as he devoured her, his kisses leaving her breathless and dizzy. She clung to him, her body trembling as she surrendered to his touch, her protests forgotten.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark and hungry, his breath ragged as he looked down at her, a satisfied smirk on his lips.
“Consider us even,” he whispered, his voice low and rough.
Rosie’s face burned, her heart thundering as she stared up at him, her legs threatening to give out beneath her. “Y-You… you’re impossible…”
He just laughed, his eyes gleaming with victory. “Adaptable is a better word for it.”
It took Rosie one long shower to get the paint off, but it took several more to rid herself of the glitter. Even then, she was certain she’d be finding specks of neon pink shimmering on her skin for days. Her ruined clothes were beyond saving, the fabric stained and crusted with paint and glitter. She had tossed them in the trash with a sigh, making a mental note to go on a shopping trip after work to replace them.
At least the night had been fun—and totally worth it. The girls were already plotting their next prank on the guys for their trip this weekend, and Rosie couldn’t wait to see how that would unfold.
She sipped her drink, leaning back in her chair as she waited for her Dad’s lecture to end. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and she was more than ready to grab lunch and shamelessly skip her afternoon chemistry class. It wasn’t like she’d miss much anyway.
“Last thing,” Aizawa’s voice cut through the room, his tone stern as ever. “I will be returning to Hero work part-time, so from now on, I’ll only be holding class twice a week. I’ll message you which days, but I expect all of you to be here unless you’re dying.”
There was a collective groan from the students, but Aizawa’s deadpan glare shut them up immediately. He paused, his gaze flicking to Rosie, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Except my daughter.”
Rosie grinned as Mineta immediately started whining. “What?! That’s so unfair!”
“Life isn’t fair,” Aizawa deadpanned. “Get over it.”
The class burst into laughter, and Mineta grumbled under his breath, sulking in his seat. Rosie hid her smile behind her drink, knowing her dad loved messing with Mineta just as much as she did.
As the class packed up, Rosie made her way to the front, falling into step with Katsuki, Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, and Jirou.
“You guys wanna grab lunch?” she asked, looping her arm through Katsuki’s as they walked. “I’m starving.”
“Hell yeah!” Kirishima grinned, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “I’m always down for food.”
“Same,” Kaminari agreed, his eyes lighting up. “I heard the quad has a new food truck today too!”
“Oooh, I’m in!” Mina bounced excitedly, her pink curls bouncing with her. “Let’s go before it gets crowded!”
They made their way to the quad, finding a spot under a shaded tree as they gathered their food and sat down on the grass. Rosie leaned back, enjoying the warm breeze as she sipped her drink.
“So,” she began, setting her cup down. “I’ve got some news. I’m throwing a party for my dad tomorrow night at Silven’s.”
Kaminari’s eyes widened. “No way! Mr. Aizawa at a party?”
Rosie laughed, shaking her head. “It’s to celebrate him going back to Pro Hero work. Uncle Mic helped me rent out the second floor at Silven’s—the bar and arcade area. It’s gonna be a surprise, so don’t say anything!”
Jirou’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “That sounds amazing! Count me in!”
“Hell yeah!” Kirishima beamed, his teeth flashing. “I wouldn’t miss it!”
“Party at Silven’s?” Mina grinned, her eyes gleaming mischievously. “This is gonna be epic! Are you inviting everyone from our class?”
“Yeah,” Rosie nodded. “I sent out a group message this morning. I also invited some of my dad’s friends. It’s gonna be a mix of Pro Heroes and us, so it should be interesting.”
Katsuki leaned back against the tree, his arms crossed as he watched her with a smirk. “You’re really going all out for this, huh?”
“Of course,” Rosie smiled, her eyes softening. “He deserves it.”
Katsuki’s gaze softened for a moment, his expression unreadable before he looked away, hiding a small smile. “Yeah… I guess he does.”
“I can’t wait to see his face,” Mina giggled, her excitement contagious. “He’s gonna be so shocked!”
“Oh, he’ll pretend he’s not,” Rosie laughed, rolling her eyes. “But I know he’ll appreciate it. Even if he grumbles about all the noise.”
Kaminari snickered. “I can already hear him now: ‘You kids are too damn loud.’”
The group burst into laughter, mimicking Aizawa’s grumpy tone as they continued to eat and chat, the anticipation for the party building with every word.
Rosie’s heart swelled with excitement. Tomorrow night was going to be perfect.
The café was bustling with its usual lunchtime rush, the hum of chatter blending with the soft music playing overhead. Rosie tied her apron a little tighter, balancing a tray of steaming lattes as she weaved through the tables.
Kanako was manning the register today, her bright smile charming every customer that came in. “Order for Hayashi!” she called, setting a caramel macchiato on the counter.
Rosie smiled, making her way back behind the counter. “Busy day today.”
“Tell me about it,” Kanako sighed, fanning herself with a menu. “I didn’t even get to take my break yet.”
“Well, at least you’ve got me today. Better than Shinso who called in sick again,” Rosie teased.
Kanako giggled. “He’s lucky he’s cute, or I’d be more annoyed.”
Rosie laughed, wiping down the counter when the bell above the door chimed. She looked up, her heart doing a little flip when she recognized the newcomer.
The bell above the café door chimed, and Rosie glanced up from wiping the counter. Riku strolled in like he owned the place, that easy confidence rolling off him in waves. A couple of the customers at the tables looked up, their attention caught by his casual swagger. His dark hair was just slightly tousled, like he’d run a hand through it a few too many times, and his smile was relaxed but calculated—the kind of smile that always made people notice.
“Hey, Rosie,” he said, voice smooth as silk, like they were the only two people in the shop. “Didn’t know you were working today.”
Rosie blinked, startled to see him. She quickly adjusted her cardigan, masking her surprise with a polite smile. “Oh, hey, Riku! Yeah, Shinso called in sick, so I got stuck with his shift.”
He chuckled, leaning one elbow against the counter like he had all the time in the world. His eyes lingered on her just a little too long, a little too intently. “Guess that’s my good luck then.”
Rosie felt a small flutter in her chest, quickly brushing it off. He’s just being his usual charming self. That was Riku—he was always effortlessly smooth, always had a line ready. It was harmless.
“What can I get you?” she asked, shifting back into barista mode.
“Hmm,” he hummed, tilting his head as if considering her. “How about… your favorite drink?”
She paused, quirking a brow. “You’re trusting me to pick for you?”
“Yeah.” His lips curved into that practiced, easy smile that always seemed to sparkle just enough to draw people in. “I trust your taste.”
Rosie’s cheeks warmed before she could stop herself. Laughing lightly, she turned toward the espresso machine. “Alright, but don’t complain if you don’t like it.”
“I won’t,” he promised, his gaze fixed on her like a spotlight. His voice dropped just enough to make it sound deliberate. “But I doubt that’ll happen. You’ve got good taste… in everything.”
Her hand faltered as she poured the milk, her heart tripping over itself. She ducked her head quickly, hiding the flush on her face. Riku was just being nice. That’s how he was—kind, playful, a little flirty sometimes. It didn’t mean anything.
She busied herself with finishing the drink, taking comfort in the familiar motions of frothing milk and dusting honey drizzle. Finally, she slid the cup across the counter with a bright smile. “Here you go. One honey latte with oat milk. My favorite.”
He took the cup slowly, deliberately, his fingers brushing hers as he did. His touch was warm, lingering a second longer than necessary. “Thanks, Rosie. I’ll let you know how it is.”
“Hope you like it!” she called as he turned toward the door, trying to shake the odd tension that buzzed in the air.
Riku paused, hand on the doorframe, and glanced back at her with a smile that was almost too sharp to be casual. “I’m sure I will.” His playful wink made her pulse trip again before he finally walked out into the street.
Rosie exhaled, pressing a hand against her apron to calm her racing heart. He was just being Riku. Charming. Teasing. Flirty. That’s all. But still, a strange chill ran down her spine, one she quickly dismissed as exhaustion from a long shift. She shook her head, forcing a smile as she moved to serve the next customer.
Later that evening, Rosie dropped her shopping bags on her bed, her shoulders aching from carrying them all the way home. She had managed to find the perfect clothes for this weekend’s hike, including some comfortable shorts and cute crop tops she couldn’t resist.
She changed into her pajamas, tying her hair into a messy bun as she settled at her desk, opening her chemistry textbook with a sigh. Why did she decide to skip class today? She was so behind.
Her phone buzzed on her desk, the screen lighting up with an unknown number. She hesitated, debating whether to answer it or let it go to voicemail.
Curiosity got the best of her, and she picked it up. “Hello?”
“Rosie!” a familiar, cheerful voice chirped on the other end.
Rosie’s heart leapt in excitement. “Eri?! Is that you?”
“Yeah!” Eri giggled, her voice bright and bubbly. “I got my new phone today! Dad said I could call you!”
Rosie’s face broke into a wide grin. “That’s amazing! I’m so glad you called! How do you like your new phone?”
“It’s so cool!” Eri gushed. “It’s pink and sparkly, and it has a unicorn case!”
Rosie laughed, picturing Eri’s excited face. “That sounds perfect for you! I’m so happy you called. Did you save my number?”
“Yup! You’re my first contact!” Eri announced proudly. “I wanted to call you right away!”
Rosie’s heart melted. “You’re so sweet, Eri. I miss you! I can’t wait for you to be home”
“Yes! Can we? I wanna show you all the games Deku and Mirio downloaded for me!”
Rosie giggled. “Absolutely! We’ll have a playdate soon. Maybe we can go to the arcade or something.”
“Really?! That would be so fun!” Eri squealed in excitement. “I can’t wait!”
“Me neither,” Rosie agreed, her heart feeling lighter than it had all day. “Call me anytime, okay? I’ll always answer for you.”
“I will!” Eri promised. “Goodnight, Rosie!”
“Goodnight, Eri. Sweet dreams,” Rosie replied softly.
The call ended, and Rosie set her phone down, a warm smile still lingering on her lips.
Rosie smoothed down her black spaghetti strap dress as she glanced up at her dad, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “Are you excited?”
Aizawa sighed, adjusting the cuff of his gray dress shirt. “I still don’t understand why we’re having dinner here. We could’ve just ordered takeout.”
Rosie laughed, linking her arm with his. “Because, Dad, sometimes it’s fun to go out. Besides, I wanted to spend some time with you before you get busy with hero work again.”
His expression softened. “Alright, fine. But if Mic shows up, I’m leaving.”
She snorted. “No promises.”
They walked into Silven’s, the familiar hum of music and chatter greeting them. The warm lighting reflected off the polished floors, the neon signs above the bar adding a playful glow. Rosie waved at the bartender, who gave her a knowing nod.
“Why don’t we skip dinner and go upstairs for drinks and games?” she suggested, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “We haven’t played space invaders in ages, and I think I can finally beat you.”
Aizawa raised a brow, a hint of a smile on his lips. “You really think you can beat me?”
She nudged him playfully. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
He shook his head, chuckling. “Alright, but you’re paying for my drinks.”
“Deal.”
They climbed the stairs, Rosie’s heels clicking softly against the steps as she led him up to the second floor. Aizawa looked around curiously, his sharp eyes narrowing as they approached the corner that led to the arcade area.
He shot her a suspicious look. “What are you up to?”
“Me? Nothing!” She grinned, giving him a gentle push. “Just go already!”
He grumbled, but as they turned the corner, the room erupted.
“SURPRISE!”
Aizawa froze, his eyes widening as the room filled with their friends and his students, all cheering and clapping. Confetti burst into the air, and colorful streamers fluttered down. There were banners hanging on the walls that read, “Congratulations, Eraser Head!” and “Welcome Back to Hero Work!”
His jaw dropped, and for a moment, he looked completely stunned. Then, his gaze snapped to Rosie, who was laughing as she hugged his arm.
“You planned this?” he asked, his voice a mixture of disbelief and admiration.
She beamed up at him, her eyes sparkling with joy. “Of course! You’re going back to hero work, and that deserves a celebration!”
“You little—” He shook his head, a rare smile breaking across his face. “You really got me.”
Rosie wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. “Welcome back to hero work, Dad. I’m so proud of you.”
Aizawa’s expression softened, his eyes glistening just a little as he hugged her back. “Thanks, kid. I’m proud of you, too.”
They were soon surrounded by his students—Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina, and Jirou cheering, while Katsuki stood off to the side with his signature scowl, his arms crossed but a faint smirk on his lips.
Mic appeared out of nowhere, throwing an arm around Aizawa’s shoulders. “I told you, man! You can’t get rid of me that easily!”
Aizawa groaned. “I knew it was too good to be true.”
The room erupted in laughter as the music started, and everyone began to mingle, congratulating Aizawa and celebrating his return to hero work.
Rosie grinned, her heart soaring with happiness as she watched her dad surrounded by people who cared about him. She looked up to see Katsuki standing beside her.
“Nice job, dollface,” he murmured, his eyes gleaming with admiration. “You really pulled it off.”
She grinned, her heart fluttering. “Of course. I had to make sure he felt appreciated.”
Katsuki’s lips curved into a fond smile. “He’s lucky to have you.”
Rosie’s eyes softened as she watched her dad laugh with his students, a warmth spreading through her chest. “Yeah… I’m lucky to have him, too.”
She glanced up at Katsuki, who was still watching her with that fondness that made her heart skip a beat. She cleared her throat, grinning playfully. “Now, I’m going to get a drink. Want anything?”
“Nah,” Katsuki shrugged. “I’m good for now.”
“Suit yourself,” she teased, winking at him before making her way to the bar.
The room was alive with laughter and music, the celebration in full swing. She weaved through the crowd, her heels clicking softly against the floor as she made her way to the bar where her dad stood with Uncle Mic, Endeavor, and Midnight. They were chatting and laughing, their drinks in hand as they caught up.
“Yo, Rosie!” Mic called out, his voice booming over the noise. “Nice party! You really pulled it off!”
Rosie grinned, leaning against the bar as she waved at him. “Thanks, Uncle Mic! I had to make sure it was perfect.”
Midnight gave her a wink. “You did good, kid. Aizawa looked genuinely surprised.”
Rosie laughed, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “He didn’t suspect a thing.”
Aizawa turned to her, his expression softening as he looked at his daughter. “I can’t believe you managed to keep this a secret.”
She shrugged, feigning innocence. “What can I say? I’m good at keeping secrets.”
Endeavor raised his glass. “To Aizawa, returning to hero work. May you survive Mic’s antics.”
They all laughed as they clinked their glasses together, and Rosie smiled, her heart swelling with pride and happiness.
As she waited for her drink, she glanced around the room, her eyes taking in the lively scene. Her classmates were scattered around, talking and laughing. Mina and Jirou were by the arcade machines, furiously pressing buttons as they battled it out on a fighting game. Kirishima and Kaminari were cheering them on, their voices rising above the noise.
She spotted Uraraka and Deku chatting by the air hockey table, their faces flushed with excitement as they played against each other. Todoroki stood nearby, his expression relaxed as he watched them with a small smile.
Rosie felt a rush of warmth as she watched everyone enjoying themselves. This was exactly how she imagined the night would go. She wanted everyone to have fun and celebrate her dad’s return to hero work.
Her drink finally arrived, and she took a sip, the cool liquid refreshing as it slid down her throat. She was about to join Mina and Jirou when she felt a presence behind her.
“Not every day I get to see Eraser Head’s kid throwing a party.”
Rosie turned, her eyes widening as she took in the sight before her. A man stood there, leaning casually against the bar. His blonde hair was tousled in a way that looked effortlessly cool, and his crimson wings were folded neatly behind him, the feathers trailing to the ground. His golden eyes gleamed with amusement as he looked at her, a lazy smirk playing on his lips.
Hawks.
The Number Two Pro Hero stood before her, his presence magnetic as he looked her over. He wore a tan bomber jacket over a black turtleneck, his hands casually resting in his pockets as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
Rosie blinked, momentarily speechless. She hadn’t expected him to be here. Then again, her dad was a pro hero. It made sense that some of his colleagues would show up. He is handsome.
She quickly regained her composure, flashing him a polite smile. “I like to surprise people.”
Hawks chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Well, you definitely surprised your old man. Didn’t think anyone could pull one over on him.”
Rosie shrugged, her confidence returning. “I have my ways.”
He grinned, his gaze lingering on her. “I bet you do.”
There was something playful in his tone, his golden eyes flicking over her outfit before meeting her gaze again. Rosie felt a flush creep up her neck at his attention and behavior.
“So,” he continued, leaning in just slightly, his wings shifting behind him, “What’s the plan for tonight? Besides celebrating your dad’s return to hero work?”
Rosie smiled, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Arcade games, drinks, and maybe some karaoke if Uncle Mic gets his way.”
Hawks laughed, his voice rich and warm. “I’d pay good money to see that.”
Rosie grinned. “Stick around, then. You might just get your wish.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her boldness. “I think I will.”
She took another sip of her drink, her heart fluttering slightly under his intense gaze. There was no denying Hawks’ charisma, but she kept her cool, maintaining her confident demeanor.
“The name is Rosie,” she said, sticking her hand out to him with a charming smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. My dad’s told me about you.”
Hawks’ golden eyes gleamed as his hand slid into hers, his grip firm yet gentle. His fingers were warm, his touch lingering just a second longer than necessary. “The pleasure is all mine,” he replied, his voice smooth and confident.
Rosie’s heart skipped a beat as he held her gaze, his smirk playful and his posture relaxed, exuding an effortless charm that was downright dangerous. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks but maintained her composure, refusing to let herself get flustered.
She’d heard about him—read the articles that praised his charisma and the countless interviews that captured his playful, almost flirtatious demeanor. But standing this close, experiencing it firsthand, was an entirely different story.
Was he being his usual flirty self? The same charm he used on everyone to disarm them? Or… was he actually flirting with her?
She mentally shook herself, dismissing the thought. Hawks was known for his charisma. This was probably just his default setting. No need to read too much into it.
She smiled brightly, deciding to keep things light. “Well, I’m off to play Space Invaders with whatever victim—no, I mean, friend I can sucker into playing with me.”
Hawks chuckled, his wings shifting behind him as he leaned in, his voice low and teasing. “Sounds like you’re pretty confident in your skills.”
Rosie grinned, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, I’m more than confident. I’m undefeated.”
His eyebrows rose, clearly intrigued. “Is that so?”
“Yup,” she said, popping the ‘p’ with a cheeky grin. “Maybe you’ll see my skills in action later.”
Hawks smirked, his eyes flicking over her with curiosity. “Looking forward to it.”
With a wave, she turned and made her way to the arcade area, feeling his gaze on her as she walked away. She forced herself not to look back, determined to play it cool.
But as she approached the arcade machines, she couldn’t help but wonder… Was he just being his usual charming self? Or was there something more behind that gaze?
She shrugged off the thought, refusing to get distracted. She was here to have fun, not to overanalyze Hawks’ flirting habits.
Spotting Shoto by the snack table, she marched over and grabbed his arm. “Come on, I need a victim—I mean, a player for Space Invaders.”
Shoto blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Huh? Oh… sure.”
She dragged him to the machine, her determination evident. “I hope you’re ready to lose.”
He gave her a small smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “We’ll see about that.”
They started the game, the sounds of retro music and flashing neon lights surrounding them. Rosie’s fingers flew over the controls with practiced ease, her eyes focused as she destroyed wave after wave of alien invaders.
Shoto was good—better than she expected, actually—but she was better. She dodged his attempts to overtake her score, countering his every move with a smug grin.
By the time the game ended, her score was nearly double his.
She threw her hands up in victory, laughing. “Undefeated, as always!”
Shoto shook his head, clearly impressed. “You weren’t kidding. You’re really good at this.”
She gave him a playful nudge. “Don’t worry, you put up a good fight.”
They laughed together, the sound blending with the noise of the arcade. As they continued to chat, Rosie couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.
She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes scanning the room. It didn’t take long to find him—Katsuki stood by the bar, his crimson eyes fixed on her, his expression unreadable.
A thrill ran through her, her heart skipping a beat as their gazes locked. But he didn’t look away. His stare was intense, unwavering, almost possessive.
She felt her cheeks warm but forced herself to look away, refusing to let him rattle her. He was probably still annoyed about her winning at laser tag. He was a sore loser, after all.
But as she moved to the air hockey table, the weight of his gaze lingered, her skin tingling with awareness. She tried to shake it off, focusing on the game in front of her.
“Need an opponent?”
She turned to see Hawks standing beside her, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. His wings were relaxed, his posture casual, but there was a playful challenge in his gaze.
Rosie blinked, momentarily surprised before she grinned. “You think you can beat me?”
Hawks’ smirk widened. “I know I can.”
She arched an eyebrow, her competitive spirit flaring. “Big talk. Let’s see if you can back it up.”
He chuckled, stepping up to the opposite side of the air hockey table. “You’re on.”
Rosie grabbed the paddle, her fingers curling around it as she locked eyes with him. “I hope you’re ready to lose, pretty boy.”
His eyes gleamed with intrigue. “Pretty boy, huh? I’ve been called worse.”
She rolled her eyes, a laugh escaping her. “Don’t get cocky just because you’re handsome.”
Hawks’ wings ruffled as his grin turned roguish. “So, you think I’m handsome?”
Rosie’s eyes widened, realizing she’d walked right into his trap. She huffed, her cheeks heating up as she tried to play it off. “I think you’re stalling because you’re scared.”
Hawks laughed, the sound warm and rich. “You’re fun, Rosie. I like you.”
She felt her heart skip but quickly masked it with a determined grin. “Keep talking, bird boy. I’ll have you begging for mercy by the end of this game.”
Hawks’ golden eyes gleamed with excitement. “Looking forward to it.”
Their game began with a loud crack as the puck shot across the table, the air whirring beneath it. Their movements were quick and precise, each strike filled with competitive energy.
But as they battled it out, Rosie couldn’t help but notice the glances from across the room. Katsuki was still watching her, his gaze sharp and intense.
She smirked, hitting the puck with a little extra force.
Hawks laughed as he blocked her shot, his wings flaring slightly as he leaned in. “You play dirty. I like that.”
Rosie’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You have no idea.” She flicked the puck back at him with lightning speed, barely giving him time to react. Hawks managed to block it, his golden eyes gleaming with excitement.
“Oh, I wanna play!” Mina’s voice rang out as she bounded over with Tokoyami and Tsuyu trailing behind her. Her pink eyes were wide with excitement, her hair bouncing as she practically skipped to the air hockey table.
Rosie grinned, stepping back. “Perfect timing. Here, take my spot. I need a bathroom break.”
Hawks looked at her with a playful pout. “Leaving me already? I was just starting to have fun.”
She rolled her eyes, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “Don’t get too cocky. I’ll be back to reclaim my throne.”
His laugh was rich and smooth as he waved her off. “I’ll be waiting.”
Rosie snorted, she waved at her friends before making her way to the bathroom.
The hallway was quieter, the noise from the arcade and bar muffled by the distance. She slipped into the empty bathroom, letting out a breath as she locked herself in one of the stalls. After relieving herself, she washed her hands and approached the mirror, inspecting her reflection. Her hair was a bit tousled from all the fun, her cheeks flushed from excitement.
She reached into her purse and pulled out her strawberry lip gloss, twisting the cap off as she leaned closer to the mirror, carefully reapplying the shimmering pink color. The scent of strawberries filled the air, sweet and familiar.
She smacked her lips together, satisfied with the subtle shine. As she capped the gloss, she heard the door creak open behind her. Glancing up at the mirror, she saw Katsuki’s reflection as he stepped inside, his broad shoulders filling the doorway.
Her eyes widened. “Katsuki?” She turned around to face him, confusion evident on her face. “You can’t be in here.”
His crimson eyes were locked on her, dark and intense. He didn’t say a word as he turned the lock behind him, the click echoing through the room.
Rosie’s heart raced as she watched him. “You really can’t be in here,” she repeated, her voice faltering slightly.
“You’re gorgeous,” he rasped, his voice low and rough, filled with raw honesty.
Heat flooded her cheeks as her heart skipped a beat. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.
Before she could react, Katsuki closed the distance between them, his hands gripping her waist as he lifted her effortlessly, placing her on the counter. Her legs dangled off the edge, her back pressing against the cool mirror as he stood between her thighs, his presence overwhelming.
His hands were firm on her hips, his touch possessive as his fingers curled into the fabric of her dress. He leaned in, his face inches from hers, his breath warm against her lips. His eyes were fierce, a storm of emotions swirling in their crimson depths.
“Hawks has been flirting with you,” he stated, his voice rough, laced with jealousy. It wasn’t a question. It was a fact.
Rosie blinked, stunned by his bluntness. “W-What?”
His eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as his grip on her waist grew firmer. “He’s been flirting with you all night. I’ve been watching.”
Realization hit her as she remembered Hawks’ playful banter and teasing remarks. She had brushed it off, thinking it was just his usual charm. But Katsuki had noticed… and he didn’t like it.
Rosie’s heart raced as she looked up at him, her hands instinctively resting on his chest. His heartbeat was strong beneath her fingers, rapid and intense. “I… I didn’t think anything of it,” she admitted softly. “He’s charming, but… he’s not you.”
His eyes widened slightly, his breath hitching as her words sank in.
“He’s handsome, sure,” she continued, her voice growing bolder as her fingers curled into his shirt. “But he’s nothing like you, Katsuki.”
His lips twitched, a slow, predatory smirk spreading across his face. “Damn right he’s not,” he growled, his voice filled with satisfaction.
Her heart fluttered as she looked up at him, her eyes soft and vulnerable. “No one compares to you.”
His expression softened for a brief moment, his thumb brushing over her hip in a gentle caress. But the possessive fire returned to his gaze as his hands slid up, his fingers tracing the curves of her waist.
Rosie’s breath hitched as she felt his touch, his palms warm against her skin as he moved closer, his chest pressing against hers. Her legs instinctively parted, allowing him to step between them, his body fitting perfectly against hers.
His lips hovered above hers, his eyes burning with desire. “You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice rough and possessive. “No one else gets to look at you like that. No one else gets to flirt with you.”
Her cheeks flushed as her heart raced, her eyes locking with his. “I’m yours,” she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation. “Only yours.”
His eyes darkened, a low growl escaping his throat as he dipped his head, his nose brushing against hers. “Good.”
Her fingers tightened in his shirt, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she looked up at him, her lips parting in silent invitation. “Katsuki…” she breathed, her voice pleading, desperate.
His eyes softened, his lips curving into a smug smirk as he teased, “Begging already?”
Rosie’s cheeks turned scarlet as she averted her gaze, her pride warring with her desire. But as his hands slid up her sides, his thumbs brushing just beneath her ribs, she couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her lips.
His smirk widened, clearly satisfied by her reaction. “That’s what I thought.”
Rosie swallowed hard, her eyes flicking up to meet his. “Please… kiss me.”
His expression softened, his eyes blazing with affection and desire. “Thought you’d never ask.”
His lips crashed against hers, claiming her in a fierce, possessive kiss. His hands slid up her back, pulling her closer as her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair.
Rosie melted into him, her heart racing as his lips moved against hers, his tongue teasing her bottom lip before deepening the kiss. She gasped, her body arching into him as he held her firmly, refusing to let her go.
Her mind spun, her senses overwhelmed by his touch, his taste, his scent. He was everywhere—consuming her, possessing her, marking her as his.
When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless, their foreheads touching as they panted, their eyes locked in a heated gaze. Rosie’s heart was racing, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to catch her breath.
Katsuki’s crimson eyes were dark with desire, his hands still firmly on her waist as he held her against the counter. His voice was low and rough as he whispered, “You should get back out there.”
Her face flushed, her arms still looped around his shoulders as her fingers twirled through his hair. She leaned in, her lips grazing his as she softly admitted, “I like these stolen moments with you.”
His eyes widened slightly before a wicked smirk curved his lips. “Ah, so you like sneaking around?”
The question made her flush, a pink hue dusting her cheeks as she looked away shyly. “Yes,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
A low growl rumbled in his chest as his fingers tightened on her waist, pulling her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. “Damn, you’re dangerous.”
Her heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him through her lashes, her lips parting as she whispered, “Katsuki…”
His eyes softened for a brief moment before his mouth crashed against hers, his lips moving with fierce urgency as he claimed her once more. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as she responded with equal fervor, her body arching into his as his tongue brushed against her bottom lip.
She parted her lips, granting him access as his tongue delved into her mouth, exploring and tasting her. Rosie moaned softly, her fingers tightening in his hair as he deepened the kiss, his grip on her waist possessive and firm.
Heat pooled in her stomach, her mind spinning as his hands slid up her sides, his thumbs brushing just beneath her ribs. She shivered, her body pressing against his as she lost herself in his touch, his scent, his taste.
Katsuki broke the kiss abruptly, his chest heaving as he pulled back, his forehead resting against hers. His eyes were wild, his pupils blown as he looked at her with raw hunger. “We need to stop.”
Rosie blinked, still dazed from his kiss. “W-What?”
His hands tightened on her waist as he let out a low, guttural growl. “We need to stop before I carry you out of here and take you home with me.”
Her eyes widened, her cheeks flushing as his words sank in. Her legs instinctively tightened around his waist, her body responding to his desire. “Would that be so bad?” she teased, her voice breathless.
Katsuki’s jaw clenched as his eyes darkened, his hands moving to her thighs as he gripped them firmly. “You’re killing me, Rosie.”
She giggled, her fingers brushing through his hair as she pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “You started it.”
His eyes softened, a rare smile gracing his lips as he looked at her with unguarded affection. “Yeah… I did.” He sighed, stepping back as he gently set her down from the counter, his hands lingering on her waist. “But we’ve gotta get back out there before people start lookin’ for us.”
She pouted, her fingers trailing down his chest. “Fine… but we’re finishing this later.”
His grin turned wicked, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “You can count on it.”
She bit her lip, her heart fluttering as she reluctantly slipped off the counter and away from him, smoothing out her dress as she made her way to the door. Before she unlocked it, she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Try not to stare too much.”
Katsuki snorted, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. “No promises.”
Rosie rolled her eyes, a playful smile on her lips as she unlocked the door and slipped out, her heart still racing as she rejoined the party.
Later that night, as the party began winding down, Rosie found herself laughing with her dad near the bar. Aizawa looked more relaxed than she had seen him in a long time, his eyes softened as he smiled at her. “Thanks for tonight, sunshine. I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”
She grinned, her eyes sparkling with affection. “You deserve it, Dad. I wanted to make sure you knew how proud I am of you.”
His expression softened, his hand resting on her shoulder as he gave her a gentle squeeze. “I’m proud of you too, kid. More than you’ll ever know.”
Her heart warmed, a happy glow spreading through her chest as she leaned into his side, savoring the quiet moment.
“Well, isn’t this sweet?”
Rosie looked up to see Hawks standing before them, his signature playful smirk in place as he leaned against the bar. “Mind if I steal your daughter for a moment, Eraser?”
Aizawa’s eyes narrowed, his posture instantly tensing. “Yes, actually. I do.”
Hawks laughed, seemingly unfazed by Aizawa’s glare. “Relax, I just wanted to say goodbye. Had fun tonight, Rosie.” He winked, his golden eyes glimmering with charm. “We should do this again sometime.”
Rosie chuckled, shaking her head. “Yeah, maybe. If my dad lets you get anywhere near me again.”
Aizawa crossed his arms, his expression darkening. “That’s not happening.”
Hawks raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Message received, loud and clear.” He shot Rosie one last playful grin. “Goodnight, Rosie. Sweet dreams.”
“Goodnight, Hawks,” she replied with a smile.
As Hawks walked away, Aizawa watched him like a hawk, his shoulders visibly relaxing only when the winged hero was out of sight. He turned to Rosie, his eyes stern. “Stay away from him.”
Rosie laughed, leaning into his side as she teased, “Aw, is Dad getting protective?”
“Damn right I am,” he grumbled, his eyes narrowing. “That bird is trouble.”
She grinned, hugging his arm as she whispered, “Don’t worry, Dad.”
Chapter 36: What did you think? That you were the only one with a dirty mind who would bring a raunchy novel?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki sat on Rosie’s couch, his arms crossed as he watched her move around her apartment, gathering clothes and toiletries for the weekend trip. She was wearing her work uniform, the shirt tucked into her black skirt, her hair slightly messy from her shift. She was humming to herself as she moved, completely oblivious to his stare.
His gaze softened as he watched her, his chest tightening with affection. She looked fucking beautiful in everything.
As she disappeared into her bedroom to change, Katsuki’s eyes drifted around her living room, taking in the organized chaos that was distinctly Rosie. Throw pillows with floral patterns were scattered on the couch, a pink blanket draped over the back. Plants sat on the windowsill, thriving under her care. And then there was her bookshelf.
It was packed to the brim, the shelves overflowing with colorful spines. Curious, Katsuki got up, wandering over to take a closer look. Most of them were romance novels, the covers decorated with swooning couples or mysterious, shirtless men. He snorted, a smirk curling his lips. Yeah, that checked out.
He pulled a book at random, its pink and gold cover practically sparkling under the light. “Midnight Desires,” he read aloud, rolling his eyes. Sounded cheesy as hell.
Flipping it open to a random page, his eyes skimmed the words, expecting some fluffy love confession or a sappy kiss in the rain. But his eyes widened as he read the scene.
The man’s mask concealed his face, but the way his body pressed against hers was all too real. Her back hit the rough bark of the tree, her breath hitching as his gloved hand gripped her throat, holding her in place. The cold blade of the knife pressed to her neck, a wicked gleam in his eyes as his hips slammed into hers, merciless and possessive. “Mine,” he growled, his voice muffled by the mask. “You’re mine.”
Katsuki stared at the page, his face heating up as he realized exactly what he was reading. “What the hell…?”
His sweet, shy girlfriend read stuff like this?
His heart thumped wildly in his chest as he read the passage again, his mind spinning as he pictured her reading it, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted as she imagined herself as the woman pinned to the tree. Was this the kind of stuff she was into? The masked man, the knife, the roughness?
A shiver ran down his spine as his grip tightened on the book. Did she get off on this?
“Okay! I’m ready!”
Katsuki nearly jumped out of his skin, snapping the book shut and shoving it behind his back as Rosie came out of her room. She was now dressed in high waisted dark denim shorts and an oversized hoodie, her hair tied up in a messy bun. She smiled brightly at him, completely unaware of his internal turmoil.
He cleared his throat, his heart still racing. “’Bout time, doll.”
She rolled her eyes, playfully sticking her tongue out at him. “I had to pack everything. And double-check to make sure Maya had enough food.”
He watched as she glanced around the room, her eyes landing on her large pink duffel bag by the door. “Oh! Can you grab that for me?”
“Yeah, sure,” he muttered, tucking the book into his back pocket as he walked over to the bag, hoisting it over his shoulder. Damn, it was heavier than it looked. “You packin’ bricks or somethin’?”
She giggled, her eyes sparkling. “Just the essentials.”
As they headed out of her apartment, locking the door behind them, Rosie let out a sigh. “I’m going to miss Maya this weekend.”
Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “I’m just glad your old man agreed to watch her.”
She smiled, hugging her purse to her chest. “Yeah… I think he likes her more than he lets on.
Katsuki grunted in agreement, his mind still reeling from what he’d read. As they made their way to his car, he couldn’t help but wonder… was his sweet little Rosie secretly into dark, filthy fantasies? And if so… did she want him to play them out with her?
His lips curled into a wicked smirk. Oh, he was definitely gonna find out but not before he read the entire book front to back and the many others that sat on her shelf.
Katsuki’s hands were firm on the steering wheel as he drove, his crimson eyes focused on the road ahead. Rosie sat beside him, her head bobbing to the beat of the music playing softly through the speakers. She hummed along, her fingers tapping her thigh in time with the rhythm.
It had been an hour since they’d left her apartment, the city long behind them as they drove through the winding mountain roads. Autumn leaves swirled in the breeze, painting the landscape in shades of gold and crimson. It was peaceful, the soft hum of the engine lulling them into a comfortable silence.
But then she shifted in her seat, her legs bouncing slightly. “Hey… can we stop at the next gas station?”
He glanced at her, his brow raised. “Seriously?”
She flushed, giving him an apologetic smile. “I really need to pee.”
He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips. “Fine. We’ll stop at the next one. But you better make it quick.”
Twenty minutes later, he pulled into a small gas station nestled off the side of the road. The neon sign flickered above, and a cat lazed on the windowsill, soaking up the afternoon sun.
Rosie bolted from the car, making a beeline for the bathroom. Katsuki leaned against the hood of his car, arms crossed as he watched her go. She was cute when she was in a hurry, her ponytail bouncing as she ran.
After a few minutes, she emerged, looking much more relaxed as she adjusted her hoodie. “Much better,” she sighed before her eyes lit up. “I’m going to get some snacks!”
He scoffed, pushing off the hood. “Whatever. Just don’t take all day.”
She stuck her tongue out at him before skipping into the store. Katsuki followed behind her, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he watched her dart down the aisles, her eyes wide with excitement as she scanned the shelves.
“Ooh! They have kettle corn!” she squealed, grabbing a bag. “This is a must.”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s just popcorn.”
She turned to him, her eyes narrowing. “It’s not just popcorn. It’s part of the perfect road trip snack mixture.”
His brow arched. “Perfect road trip snack mixture? There’s no such thing.”
She gasped, her hand flying to her chest. “How dare you!” She began listing off her essentials, her fingers ticking off each item. “Popcorn for the salty crunch, chocolate M&M’s for the sweet contrast, and then a soda to wash it all down. It’s the holy trinity of road trip snacks!”
He stared at her, his lips twitching. “You’re insane.”
“And you’re tasteless,” she shot back, sticking her tongue out.
He snorted, reaching for an energy drink. “Whatever. Just hurry up.”
Rosie grinned triumphantly, continuing to scour the shelves. Katsuki watched as she filled her arms with snacks, her enthusiasm infectious. Her eyes sparkled as she debated between sour gummies and pretzel sticks, ultimately deciding on both.
Once she was satisfied with her haul, they headed to the register. Katsuki paid, despite her protests, his hand casually resting on her back as they walked out to the car.
They stood by the car as she dug through the bag, pulling out the kettle corn and M&M’s. “You’re trying my perfect snack mixture,” she declared, her tone leaving no room for argument.
He leaned against the car, his arms crossed. “Yeah? What if I don’t like it?”
Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “Then I’ll just eat it all myself.”
She opened the bag of popcorn, expertly pouring the M&M’s inside before giving it a good shake. She held it out to him, her eyes bright with anticipation. “Try it.”
He sighed, rolling his eyes as he reached into the bag, popping a handful into his mouth. The salty crunch of the popcorn mixed with the sweet burst of chocolate, the contrast surprisingly good. His eyes widened slightly before he schooled his expression, giving a nonchalant shrug. “It’s… decent.”
Her grin widened, her shoulders straightening in triumph. “Ha! I knew you’d like it.” She stood on her toes, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. He blinked, caught off guard as she pulled back, a playful smile on her face. “Told you it was perfect.”
Katsuki’s heart skipped, his gaze softening as he looked down at her, her cheeks slightly pink. She was so damn cute it was unfair.
She hummed, her fingers brushing his as she reached for another handful of popcorn. “I’m not sharing,” she teased, her eyes sparkling as she turned on her heel, heading for the car.
He smirked, watching the sway of her hips. “Oh yeah?”
She looked over her shoulder, winking at him. “Yep!”
He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he followed her to the car. “Brat.”
She giggled as she climbed into the passenger seat, munching happily on her snacks. Katsuki slid into the driver’s seat, glancing at her as she pulled her feet up, sitting cross-legged as she continued to hum along to the music.
He couldn’t help the fond smile that tugged at his lips. Damn, he was so ducking whipped for her.
Starting the car, he pulled out of the gas station, the road stretching out before them. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. They still had a couple of hours to go, but with her by his side, he didn’t mind the drive.
It was dusk by the time they arrived at the lake houses, the sky painted in hues of pink and gold as the sun dipped behind the trees. Katsuki parked the car, the gravel crunching beneath the tires as the engine cut off, leaving them in peaceful silence.
Rosie looked out at the two large cabins nestled near the edge of the shimmering lake, the water reflecting the colors of the setting sun. Both houses were spacious and rustic, connected by a winding path lined with fairy lights that twinkled in the evening light. The cabins were only a short distance apart, close enough for everyone to mingle but far enough for a little privacy.
She turned to Katsuki, her eyes shining with excitement. “We made it.”
He glanced at the lake houses, a small smirk on his lips. “Yeah. Not bad.”
Rosie’s gaze softened as she looked at him, her heart fluttering. This was the last chance they’d get to be alone for the rest of the weekend. Once they went inside, they’d be surrounded by their classmates, and any moment alone would be nearly impossible.
She leaned over, her fingers brushing his jaw as she tilted his head towards her. “Katsuki…” she whispered, her voice soft as her lips hovered over his.
His eyes darkened, his hand finding her waist as he pulled her closer, his mouth crashing against hers. It was desperate, almost hungry, his fingers gripping her tightly as her lips moved with his. She melted into him, her hands tangling in his hair as she pressed herself against him, savoring the warmth of his body and the feel of his lips on hers.
His mouth was hot, his kiss possessive as he claimed her, his thumb brushing along her waist, sending shivers down her spine. She kissed him back just as fiercely, her heart pounding in her chest as her world narrowed to just him, just this moment.
They finally broke apart, both of them breathless, their foreheads touching as they panted, their eyes locked in a heated gaze.
“We’re not gonna be able to do that again this weekend,” she murmured, her cheeks flushed.
His grip tightened on her waist, his voice low and rough. “Then I’ll just have to make up for it later.”
She bit her lip, her face heating. “I’ll hold you to that.”
His eyes flicked to her mouth before he pulled back, his expression softening. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”
They climbed out of the car, Katsuki grabbing both their bags before they made their way to the first lake house. Their class had rented two to accommodate everyone, the couples obviously rooming together: Kirishima and Mina, Tokoyami and Tsui, Kaminari and Jirou, Ojiro and Toru, and Izuku and Uraraka. That left Rosie and Momo to share one room in the first house while the guys were all crammed together in the second.
Katsuki would be rooming with Shoto, while Shoji shared with Tokoyami, and then Mineta shared with Sero and Ida, and lastly Sato would share with Koda.
Aoyama had opted out of the trip entirely, claiming he’d rather have a spa weekend. Rosie didn’t blame him—it did sound nice. She made a mental note to maybe plan one for herself later, just to relax and unwind.
They stepped inside the first cabin, the warm scent of pine filling the air. It was cozy, with a spacious living area decorated in earthy tones and rustic furniture. Large windows looked out over the lake, the water shimmering as the sun continued to set.
As they walked in, they were greeted by the lively chatter of their classmates. Everyone was gathered near the kitchen, laughing and talking as they rummaged through the fridge, pulling out bags of food.
“We’re gonna go start a bonfire out back and make burgers for dinner!” Kirishima called, his sharp teeth flashing as he grinned.
Rosie’s face lit up, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “That sounds amazing!”
Katsuki smirked, watching her bounce on her toes, her enthusiasm contagious. “Go on,” he said, jerking his head towards the stairs. “Go put your stuff down before you get too excited.”
She grinned up at him, her eyes twinkling. “Okay!”
He watched her go, a fond smile on his lips before he shook his head, heading to the other cabin to drop off his own stuff.
Upstairs, Rosie found the room she’d be sharing with Momo. It was cozy, with two twin beds covered in fluffy quilts and a window that looked out over the lake. She tossed her bag onto her bed before pulling out her phone, texting her Dad that she made it there and asked how Maya was.
She made her way outside, her heart fluttering as she took in the sight before her. The backyard led straight to the lake, where a fire pit was set up with logs arranged in a circle. Fairy lights were strung through the trees, their warm glow illuminating the area as the sun continued to dip below the horizon.
Her classmates were already gathering around, Kirishima lighting the fire as Mina and Jirou pulled out speakers, music soon filling the air. Kaminari and Sero were setting up the grill, pulling out burger patties and buns as they joked and laughed.
Rosie’s heart swelled, a warm feeling spreading through her chest. This was exactly what she had been looking forward to—a weekend away with her friends, filled with laughter, food, and memories she would cherish.
She made her way towards the fire pit, her phone in hand as she snapped a few pictures, capturing the beautiful view of the lake with the sun setting behind it. She could hear Katsuki’s voice nearby, his rough laugh standing out against the rest of the noise.
Turning, she spotted him with Kirishima and Sero by the grill, his arms crossed as he smirked at something Kaminari said. Her heart fluttered, a warmth spreading through her chest as she watched him, the firelight reflecting in his eyes.
He must have felt her gaze because his head turned, his crimson eyes locking with hers. For a moment, time seemed to stop, the world fading away as they stared at each other.
A slow smirk spread across his lips, his eyes darkening as he watched her. She flushed, a shiver running down her spine before she looked away, her heart racing.
This weekend was going to be unforgettable.
The bonfire crackled, sending sparks into the twilight sky as laughter and chatter filled the air. The scent of grilled burgers and toasted buns mixed with the earthy aroma of the lake, creating a comforting, nostalgic atmosphere. Rosie sat cross-legged on a blanket beside Momo, a half-eaten burger in her hand as she listened to the lively conversation circling the fire pit.
Kirishima took a big bite of his double-patty burger, his sharp teeth flashing as he chewed. “We should definitely hit the hiking trail tomorrow. I heard there’s a spot with an insane view of the lake.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Momo agreed, her eyes bright as she sipped from her wine glass. “We could pack a lunch and have a picnic at the top.”
“Picnic, huh?” Kaminari grinned, leaning back on his elbows as he looked up at the sky. “I’m all for that, as long as there are snacks.”
“You’re always thinking with your stomach,” Jirou teased, nudging him with her shoulder.
“Can’t help it. I need energy to keep up with you guys,” he joked, flashing her a playful smile.
“I’m excited for the hike,” Izuku spoke up, his eyes shining with anticipation. “It’ll be good training, too. Uphill climbs are great for building stamina.”
“Of course, you’d think of training,” Uraraka giggled, her cheeks rosy as she leaned against him. “But I’m excited too! I’ve never hiked around a lake before.”
“There’s supposed to be a waterfall on one of the trails,” Tokoyami added, his voice calm and composed. “It could be a good spot to rest and cool off.”
“Waterfall?” Mina’s eyes sparkled as she leaned forward. “That sounds like the perfect place to take some photos! We have to find it.”
Rosie’s face lit up. “A waterfall? That sounds beautiful! We should definitely take pictures. I’ll bring my camera.”
“You and your pictures,” Katsuki muttered beside her, though there was a soft smirk on his lips. “Fine. But don’t expect me to pose.”
She giggled, nudging him with her shoulder. “I’ll get a candid of you when you’re not looking.”
He rolled his eyes, taking a swig of his beer. “Just try it.”
“Oh, challenge accepted,” she teased, her eyes gleaming mischievously.
Sero grinned as he leaned back, his arm resting on his knee. “After the hike, we should swim in the lake. Cool off after all that walking.”
“That sounds like fun!” Toru’s voice chimed in, though her form was invisible as usual. “We could bring floaties and just relax in the water.”
Kirishima’s eyes lit up. “Yeah! We can set up a volleyball net too. Have a little competition.”
“You’re on!” Mina grinned, pointing at him. “I’m not losing to you again!”
“I don’t know, Mina,” Tokoyami said, his voice serious. “Kirishima’s spikes are pretty powerful.”
“That’s why we need to team up,” she replied, determined in her eyes. “We’ll crush him.”
Kirishima laughed, his shoulders shaking. “I’m not going down that easily!”
“I’ll cheer you on!” Tsui said, her wide eyes blinking as she sipped her drink. “But I’m staying out of the competition.”
“You’re no fun,” Mina pouted, but there was a playful glint in her eyes.
Momo smiled warmly. “It sounds like we have a full day planned. Hiking, picnicking, swimming, and volleyball. It’ll be a lot of fun.”
“And a lot of exercise,” Sato chuckled, his large form leaning back comfortably. “Good thing we brought plenty of food to refuel.”
“Speaking of food…” Ojiro looked down at his empty plate. “I’m getting another burger. Anyone else want one?”
“I’ll join you,” Shoji said, standing up with him. “I could go for another, too.”
Rosie watched them go, a smile on her lips as she took another bite of her burger. She glanced around the circle, her heart swelling with happiness. There was a warmth in the air, a sense of togetherness that she cherished.
She looked over at Katsuki, his face illuminated by the glow of the fire, his expression relaxed as he watched the flames dance. She felt a flutter in her chest, her heart skipping a beat. These were the moments she wanted to remember forever.
Turning back to the group, she grinned. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow. It’s going to be perfect.”
“You got that right,” Kirishima agreed, raising his drink. “Here’s to an unforgettable weekend!”
Everyone raised their glasses, toasting before drinking.
The morning sun was warm but gentle, casting a golden glow over the clearing as everyone gathered outside the lake house. Birds chirped in the trees, and a light breeze rustled through the leaves, setting the perfect atmosphere for their hiking adventure.
Rosie crouched down to retie her black hiking boots, her short shorts showing off her toned legs as she focused on her pink laces. Her pink backpack sat beside her, perfectly coordinated with her pink water bottle clipped to the side. Her flannel shirt was tied in the front, revealing just a sliver of her midriff. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, a few loose strands framing her face.
Momo stood nearby, adjusting her own backpack straps, looking chic and elegant even in hiking gear. Mina stretched her arms above her head, her bright yellow shorts and tank top perfectly matching her energetic personality. Uraraka bounced on her toes, her enthusiasm contagious, while Jirou leaned against the railing, her headphones hanging around her neck. Tsui quietly observed the group, her serene smile never leaving her face.
The door to the other lake house opened, and the guys stepped out, backpacks slung over their shoulders. Katsuki’s eyes zeroed in on Rosie instantly, his gaze lingering a little too long as she finished tying her boots. He quickly averted his eyes, pretending to check the straps on his bag as his cheeks turned slightly pink.
“Looking good, squad!” Kirishima grinned, his wild red hair tied back as he looked over his friends. “You guys ready to conquer that trail?”
“You know it!” Kaminari cheered, pumping his fist. “Race you to the top!”
“You’ll lose,” Tokoyami said bluntly, adjusting his dark hoodie.
Kaminari pouted. “Man, don’t kill my vibe.”
“Before we head out,” Rosie stood up, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Group photo!”
“Good idea!” Momo agreed, pulling out her phone. “We need to capture this moment.”
Everyone gathered together, laughing and shuffling around as they tried to fit everyone into the frame. Katsuki ended up beside Rosie, his arm brushing hers as they stood close. He tried to act nonchalant, but his heart pounded a little harder.
“Say cheese!” Momo called out.
“Cheese!” they all chorused, grinning as the camera clicked.
“One more!” Rosie insisted, making a silly face this time. Everyone followed her lead, pulling goofy faces as they laughed.
After a few more snapshots, they set off on the trail, the sun climbing higher in the sky as they made their way through the lush forest. The sound of crunching leaves and soft chatter filled the air, a comfortable rhythm forming as they walked.
About an hour into the hike, Rosie walked ahead with Mina and Momo, their voices light and cheerful as they discussed their plans.
“I can’t wait to jump from that waterfall!” Rosie’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. “It’s going to be amazing!”
“Right?!” Mina practically bounced as she walked. “I’ve never cliff-jumped before, but I’m so excited!”
Momo smiled, her posture elegant even on the uneven trail. “I’m glad you’re both excited. I brought a waterproof camera, so we can take pictures mid-jump!”
Rosie’s face lit up. “That’s perfect! We’ll get some amazing shots!”
“I heard the water is freezing,” Mina added with a mischievous grin. “I wonder who’s gonna chicken out first.”
“Not me!” Rosie declared proudly, placing her hands on her hips. “I’m diving in headfirst!”
Mina laughed. “I believe you!”
Up ahead, Kirishima and Kaminari were chatting with Sero and Tokoyami, their voices carrying back to the girls.
“Let’s make it a competition!” Kirishima suggested, his eyes shining with excitement. “Whoever makes the biggest splash wins!”
“Cannonball contest?” Kaminari smirked, cracking his knuckles. “You’re on! I’ll wipe the floor with you guys.”
Katsuki scoffed, glancing back at them. “You’ll have to beat me first, dunce face.”
Izuku smiled, his competitive side showing. “I’m in. But I’m going for style points, not just splash size.”
“That’s the spirit!” Kirishima clapped him on the back. “This is gonna be awesome!”
Hearing their conversation, Rosie’s grin widened. She turned to Mina and Momo, her eyes sparkling. “You hear that? Looks like the boys are making this a competition.”
Mina laughed. “Then we better show them up!”
Momo’s eyes twinkled with excitement. “Agreed. They won’t know what hit them.”
Rosie’s heart raced in anticipation. She couldn’t wait to see the view from the top, feel the rush of adrenaline as she jumped, and make memories she’d never forget. She glanced over at Katsuki, who was walking confidently, his posture relaxed but alert. He caught her staring and raised an eyebrow.
“What’re you lookin’ at?” he asked, his tone gruff but playful.
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Just imagining you belly-flopping off that cliff.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Keep talkin’, and I’ll make sure you’re the first one off that ledge.”
She snorted, “yeah right.”
The sun was high in the sky, casting warm golden light over the lush forest as the group finally made it to the base of the waterfall. The air was filled with the refreshing scent of moss and water, the roaring cascade echoing off the rocky cliffs as water crashed into the crystal-clear pool below. The vibrant greenery surrounding the area made it feel like they’d stumbled into a hidden paradise.
“Oh wow,” Momo gasped, her eyes wide with awe as she took in the breathtaking view. “It’s even more beautiful than I imagined.”
Rosie’s face lit up with pure excitement. “This is perfect! I can’t wait to jump!” She dropped her pink backpack onto the grassy bank, her eyes locked on the towering waterfall above.
“Race you to the top!” Kaminari shouted, already peeling off his hiking shirt to reveal his brightly colored swim trunks underneath.
“You’re on!” Kirishima challenged, flexing his muscles before yanking off his tank top. “I’m winning this!”
“Not a chance!” Mina giggled, quickly untying her flannel shirt and dropping it to the ground. She wore a neon green bikini that matched her vibrant personality, and she was already hopping in place, ready to go.
Rosie laughed, her fingers quickly unbuttoning her shorts and shimming them down her legs. Underneath, she wore a delicate white bikini adorned with pink sakura flowers, the soft fabric hugging her figure perfectly. She tossed her shorts on top of her bag before pulling off her tied-up shirt, leaving her fully ready to jump into the water. Her hair was still in a ponytail, but a few loose strands framed her flushed cheeks as her eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Are you sure you can keep up?” She teased, nudging Momo playfully.
Momo smiled, her elegant demeanor unwavering as she removed her own hiking attire to reveal a sleek navy blue bikini that complimented her figure. “I’ll do my best!”
Shoji cleared his throat, his voice calm but firm. “Mineta, you’re climbing first.”
Mineta’s eyes widened in protest, his cheeks flushing pink. “H-Hey, why me?!”
Shoji’s six arms crossed over his chest as he leveled Mineta with a serious look. “So you don’t try anything.”
The girls stifled their laughter, knowing Shoji was simply looking out for them. Mineta grumbled but didn’t argue, realizing he was outmatched.
Rosie shot Shoji a grateful smile, “Thanks, Shoji.”
He nodded, his serious expression softening. “No problem.”
The group began stripping off their hiking clothes, revealing swimsuits of all colors and patterns. Jirou wore a sporty black bikini with purple accents, while Tsui’s green one-piece was simple but cute. Uraraka’s pink bikini matched her bubbly personality perfectly, and she was already bouncing on her toes in excitement.
The guys were no less prepared. Katsuki wore red swim trunks that sat low on his hips, showing off his muscular physique. Kirishima’s orange trunks matched his hair, and Izuku’s green shorts complimented his messy curls. Todoroki wore a pair of black swim trunks with a red stripe down one side, his dual-colored hair falling messily over his forehead.
Sero, Sato, and Koda were all ready to go, laughing and teasing each other as they geared up for the race to the top. Shoji made sure Mineta was ahead, keeping an eye on him as they began climbing the rocky path that led to the top of the waterfall.
Rosie’s competitive spirit kicked in as she saw Kaminari and Kirishima race ahead, their laughter echoing off the cliffs. “Come on, girls!” She grinned, turning to her friends. “We’re not letting the guys beat us!”
“Yeah!” Mina cheered, already dashing toward the rocks with boundless energy.
The girls followed suit, their laughter filling the air as they climbed. The rocks were slightly damp but not too slippery, and the path was naturally carved out from years of water flow. The cool spray from the waterfall misted over them as they ascended, adding a refreshing touch to the warm summer air.
Rosie’s heart raced with excitement as she climbed, her fingers gripping the rocks firmly. She felt alive, the thrill of adventure coursing through her veins. Katsuki was ahead of her, his muscular form moving swiftly as he scaled the rocks with ease. She watched him for a moment, her eyes lingering on his toned back and strong arms before she quickly shook her head and focused on climbing.
“No distractions, Rosie,” she muttered to herself, determination blazing in her eyes.
By the time they reached the top, they were all slightly out of breath but grinning from ear to ear. The view was stunning, the sparkling pool below reflecting the clear blue sky above. The water was so crystal clear they could see the smooth rocks at the bottom, and the sun’s rays danced across the surface, making it look like a scene straight out of a dream.
“Last one in is a rotten egg!” Kirishima shouted before launching himself off the edge, his body curling into a tight cannonball as he plummeted toward the water.
A massive splash followed, water spraying up as he hit the surface. The others watched in awe before Kaminari whooped and jumped off as well, his form less graceful but equally enthusiastic.
“I’m not losing to you guys!” Mina yelled, her competitive side coming out as she took a running start and leapt off the edge, flipping mid-air before hitting the water with a surprisingly elegant splash.
Rosie laughed, her heart pounding with exhilaration. She took a few steps back to get a good running start before sprinting toward the edge. The wind rushed past her as she launched herself off the cliff, the world falling away beneath her as she soared through the air.
Time seemed to slow for a moment as she looked down, the pool sparkling like a gemstone far below. She could hear her friends cheering, their voices echoing off the rocks. A wild grin spread across her face as she tucked her knees to her chest, bracing for impact.
The water was shockingly cold as she hit the surface, the icy rush engulfing her body. She sank beneath the water for a moment before kicking her legs, breaking through the surface with a gasp. The chill was invigorating, waking up every nerve in her body.
She blinked the water from her eyes, laughing as she saw Mina and Kirishima splashing each other nearby. Kaminari was floating on his back, his hair a wild mess of wet spikes, while Todoroki surfaced beside her, his heterochromatic eyes calm and serene.
“That was amazing!” Rosie shouted, her voice echoing over the water as she swam toward the others.
Katsuki jumped next, his powerful form slicing through the air before he plunged into the water with a minimal splash. He surfaced a moment later, his hair plastered to his head as he looked over at her, his crimson eyes gleaming.
“Not bad, princess,” he teased, his voice carrying over the water.
Rosie stuck her tongue out at him. “You just wish you could jump as gracefully as me.”
He snorted, swimming closer. “I’ll show you graceful.” Before she could react, he sent a wave of water crashing into her, laughing as she sputtered and tried to splash him back.
The rest of their friends continued to jump off the cliff.
The water was refreshingly cool as they swam, their laughter echoing off the rocky cliffs surrounding the waterfall's pool. Sunlight danced on the surface, creating rippling patterns that shimmered beneath the clear water. Mina and Kirishima were splashing each other wildly, their playful shouts filling the air, while Kaminari floated on his back, his face tilted toward the sun. Uraraka and Izuku swam side by side, their faces red as they exchanged shy smiles.
Rosie swam further out, her arms cutting smoothly through the water as she approached the powerful cascade. The roar of the waterfall grew louder the closer she got, the mist spraying her face as she treaded water beneath the thundering rush. She tilted her head up, marveling at the sheer height of it, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Her gaze drifted to the shadowy space behind the falling water. It was darker, a gap in the rock face barely visible through the rushing curtain. Her heart skipped with excitement. Was that... a cave?
Without a second thought, Rosie took a deep breath and dove beneath the surface, the cold water enveloping her as she swam under the waterfall. The powerful current pushed against her, but she powered through, her legs kicking as she emerged on the other side.
She gasped as she broke through the water, her eyes widening in awe. It was a cave—spacious and hidden, with the waterfall acting as a shimmering veil at its entrance. The walls were rugged stone, wet with mist, and sunlight seeped through the cascading water, illuminating the cavern with a soft, ethereal glow. Small droplets sparkled in the air, and the echo of the waterfall reverberated around them.
“This is incredible…” she whispered, her voice lost in the roar of the water.
She heard another splash behind her and turned just in time to see Katsuki surface, his wet hair plastered to his forehead. He shook his head like a dog, sending water droplets flying as he fixed her with an intense stare. “You just couldn’t help yourself, huh?”
A mischievous grin played on Rosie’s lips. “Curiosity got the best of me.” She looked around at the hidden cavern. “Isn’t this amazing?”
Katsuki’s gaze didn’t leave her, his eyes roaming over her wet skin, the droplets clinging to her collarbone and the delicate pink sakura flowers on her white bikini. “Yeah… amazing,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.
Heat rushed to her cheeks as she realized he wasn’t looking at the cave. Her heart fluttered, her pulse quickening as he swam closer to her, as they grew closer to the shallow parts of the water, the water lapping at their waists. There was something electric in the air, an intensity that made her breath catch.
Rosie’s back hit the cool stone wall as Katsuki closed the distance between them, his powerful frame towering over her. His wet skin gleamed under the ethereal light, his crimson eyes dark and focused. “It’s hard to keep myself in check”
Her lips parted, but no words came out. She could barely think, her senses overwhelmed by his presence, his scent, the heat radiating off his body despite the cold water. “K-Katsuki…”
His hands came up, pressing against the rock on either side of her head, effectively trapping her. But she didn’t feel trapped—instead, a thrill ran down her spine, her heart racing as she looked up into his fiery eyes.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he growled, his voice raw with emotion.
Her face flushed, her body tingling at his confession. “I… I think I do,” she admitted softly, her eyes flicking to his lips.
He let out a low, rough chuckle, his gaze dropping to her mouth. “Then you should know I’m done waiting.”
Before she could respond, his lips crashed down on hers, fierce and possessive. Rosie gasped, her body pressing back against the cold stone as his heat enveloped her. Her hands instinctively moved to his shoulders, gripping his firm muscles as his mouth claimed hers, his kiss passionate and demanding.
She melted into him, her heart pounding wildly as his lips moved over hers, his tongue teasing her lower lip before diving deeper. A soft moan escaped her, her knees going weak as his hands found her waist, pulling her closer against him.
The roar of the waterfall surrounded them, the cool mist mixing with the heat of their kiss. There was something exhilarating about it—being hidden away behind the waterfall, knowing their friends were just on the other side, completely oblivious to their stolen moment.
Katsuki’s fingers tightened on her hips, his grip possessive as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing against hers. Rosie’s head spun, her thoughts scattering as she responded eagerly, her hands sliding up to tangle in his wet hair.
He growled low in his throat, clearly pleased by her enthusiasm, his body pressing her harder against the rock. The rough stone was cold against her back, but she barely felt it, her entire being consumed by his heat, his touch, his mouth.
The thrill of being caught made her heart race, her pulse pounding as she kissed him back with everything she had. Her body was on fire, her skin tingling wherever he touched, his hands roaming over her curves, his lips devouring hers.
But all too soon, Katsuki pulled back, his forehead resting against hers as they both panted, their breaths mingling as they tried to catch their breath. His eyes were dark with desire, his grip still firm on her waist. “We… we should get back before they notice we’re gone.”
Rosie’s face was flushed, her lips tingling from his kiss as she looked up at him, her heart still racing. “Y-Yeah… you’re right.”
But neither of them moved, their bodies pressed close as they shared the same breath, the intensity between them lingering. It took everything in Katsuki to finally pull away, his jaw clenched as he fought to regain control.
He looked at her, his eyes softening as he took in her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips, the way her chest rose and fell as she struggled to steady her breathing. “You’re dangerous, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and husky.
Rosie’s heart fluttered, a shy smile playing on her lips. “Only because you let me be.”
He smirked, his confidence returning as he took her hand, his fingers lacing through hers. “Come on, princess. Let’s get back before they send a search party.”
With one last, lingering look, they dove back into the cold water, swimming under the waterfall and emerging on the other side. Their friends were still laughing and playing, completely unaware of the heated moment they’d just shared.
But as Rosie glanced over at Katsuki, her heart skipped a beat at the knowing look in his eyes, a smirk curling on his lips as he winked at her.
She quickly looked away, her face flushing as she tried to act natural, but the memory of his touch, his kiss, his whispered words echoed in her mind, her heart racing with excitement.
“Let’s head back for lunch!” Momo called out as she stuffed the camera back into her backpack
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the lake as the evening breeze rustled through the trees. The smell of sizzling steaks filled the air, mingling with the sound of laughter and the occasional splash of water from the lake.
Standing around the large grill, Katsuki expertly flipped the steaks, his face set in concentration. “Don’t you dare overcook mine, Kacchan!” Izuku laughed nervously, his green eyes sparkling.
Katsuki shot him a glare, his lip curling. “Shut it, Deku. You’re lucky I’m even making you one.”
Izuku just laughed, completely unfazed by his childhood friend’s attitude. “They smell amazing, though. Thanks for helping out, Todoroki.”
Shoto glanced up from turning over the vegetables they were grilling as a side. “It’s no trouble. I’ve been learning to cook more recently.” His voice was calm, but his gaze flickered over to where the girls were playing volleyball, his attention lingering just a moment longer on Momo as she jumped to spike the ball.
Iida stood nearby, making sure the grill was at the right temperature and keeping track of cooking times. “Everything is going according to plan. Dinner will be ready right on schedule.” His precise mannerisms made the others chuckle.
Meanwhile, on the sandpit nearby, the girls were completely engrossed in their game of volleyball. Rosie leaped into the air, her ponytail whipping around as she smacked the ball over the net. “Yes!” she cheered, laughing as Mina made a dramatic dive to save it, her hands just barely keeping the ball in play.
“Nice save, Mina!” Uraraka called out, clapping her hands excitedly as she positioned herself for the next hit.
Momo jumped to block the ball, her hair bouncing as she reached up, but Tsui managed to tip it just over her hands. “Ribbit, gotcha!” Tsui grinned, her tongue flicking out playfully.
Their laughter was contagious, the girls clearly having a blast as they played. They were all dressed in their swimsuits with shorts, their sun-kissed skin glistening as they moved with energy and grace.
Unbeknownst to them, Mineta was perched a little too conveniently behind a nearby bush, his eyes wide and a pervy grin on his face. “This… this is paradise!” he whispered to himself, hearts practically popping out of his eyes as he muttered about their outfits and their bouncing tits.
What he didn’t realize was that Shoji had been keeping an eye on him, his multiple arms crossing over his chest as his eyes narrowed. He muttered to Sero, “Keep an eye on him. I’ll handle it if he tries anything.”
Sero snickered, laying down a card as they continued their game on the picnic table. “I got your back, man. Mineta won’t know what hit him.”
Koda looked up from his cards, his cheeks pink as he glanced at the girls, quickly averting his eyes in embarrassment. Sato just laughed, shuffling the deck as they prepared for the next round.
Down by the lake, Kirishima, Tokoyami, and Kaminari stood with their fishing rods, eyes trained on the water. “Man, this is the life!” Kaminari sighed, a lazy smile on his face. “Good food, good friends, and hopefully good fish!”
Kirishima laughed, his shark-toothed grin wide. “Yeah, but you haven’t caught anything yet, man!”
He gave Kaminari a playful shove, causing him to stumble. “Oi! I’m trying!”
Tokoyami stood silently next to them, his eyes focused on the rippling water. “Patience is key… the fish will come when the time is right.” His poetic demeanor made the other two crack up.
Back at the grill, Katsuki couldn’t help but glance over at the volleyball game, his crimson eyes narrowing as Rosie jumped to hit the ball again, her laugh echoing across the beach. She was all sunshine and energy, her movements graceful and free.
Damn, she is beautiful.
He gritted his teeth, his hand tightening on the spatula as he saw her high-five Momo, her cheeks flushed from exertion, her ponytail bouncing as she spun around to prepare for the next serve.
“Oi, Bakugou. You alright?” Shoto’s calm voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
Katsuki blinked, realizing he had been staring. “Yeah. Fine. Mind your own damn business.”
Shoto just raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking back to the girls for a moment before he shrugged and continued with his grilling.
“Man, those steaks are smelling real good!” Kaminari shouted as he, Kirishima, and Tokoyami approached from the lake, their fishing rods slung over their shoulders.
“No luck?” Izuku asked, grinning.
“Nah, but we still had fun,” Kirishima said with his usual enthusiasm. “Besides, it’s not about the catch. It’s about the experience!”
Just then, Rosie and the girls finished their volleyball game, their faces flushed and bright with joy as they ran over. “We’re starving! How much longer?” Rosie asked, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Katsuki.
He smirked, his chest swelling with pride at the way she looked at him. “Five more minutes. Can’t you be patient?”
She pouted, crossing her arms. “I guess… but they just smell so good!”
Katsuki chuckled, his gaze softening. “Yeah, yeah. It’ll be worth the wait.”
His eyes lingered on her a moment longer, his heart pounding at the way the sun made her hair glow, the way her smile lit up her whole face.
After her shower, Rosie stood in front of the mirror, towel-drying her hair before slipping into her favorite pair of black cotton short shorts that hugged her hips perfectly. She paired them with a pink tank top, the soft fabric brushing against her as she moved. With her hair still slightly damp and falling around her.
She grabbed her phone and one of the bottles of wine she’d brought, a sweet rosé that she had been saving for a perfect lazy afternoon. With her book tucked under her arm, she made her way outside, where the sun was beginning its slow descent, painting the sky with hues of gold and pink.
Settling into one of the cushioned lounge chairs on the deck, she sighed contentedly, sinking into the plush seat as she curled her legs beneath her. The air was warm, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and lake water. The distant laughter of her friends kayaking and paddleboarding on the lake could be heard, but out here, she felt at peace.
She popped open the bottle of rosé and poured herself a glass, taking a delicate sip and savoring the sweetness before setting it on the small table beside her. With the sun kissing her skin and the coolness of the drink on her tongue, she finally opened her book, returning to the world she had left off in—a steamy romance set in a remote mountain cabin.
Rosie’s cheeks flushed as she read the intense scene between the brooding mountain man and the feisty heroine, the imagery vivid and deliciously scandalous. Her fingers curled around the pages as she took another sip of her wine, her eyes wide as the man pressed the woman against the wall, his growled words making her heart race.
She was so absorbed in the story that she didn’t hear the sliding door open until a familiar voice snapped her out of her trance.
“Oh my god, you’re reading that?” Mina’s voice was playful, a teasing lilt to her words as she plopped down on the lounge chair next to Rosie, her own bottle of white wine in hand. She was dressed in a vibrant yellow crop top and denim shorts, her hair pulled up into a messy bun.
Rosie quickly slapped the book shut, her face heating. “W-what? It’s… It’s nothing!”
Mina laughed, her eyes sparkling as she leaned over to get a better look at the cover. “Uh-huh, nothing, huh? I recognize that series. My older sister was obsessed with it! The guy in the mask, right? The one who’s all rough and dominant?”
Rosie’s face went bright red. “Y-you’ve read this?”
“Read it? Girl, I devoured it!” Mina admitted, uncorking her wine and pouring herself a generous glass. “It’s so deliciously scandalous.” She waggled her eyebrows playfully. “You’ve got good taste.”
Before Rosie could protest, the door slid open again, and Momo stepped out, her hair loose and flowing over her shoulders. She wore a casual white tank top and pastel blue shorts, looking effortlessly elegant as always. In one hand, she held a chilled bottle of red wine, and in the other, a thick paperback novel.
“What are you two gossiping about?” Momo asked curiously as she settled into the lounge chair on the other side of Rosie. She set her bottle down and produced three wine glasses like magic, pouring them all generous servings.
“Momo,” Mina grinned wickedly, “Rosie’s reading Dirty Little Secrets.”
Momo’s eyes widened in surprise before she broke into a smile. “Oh! I’ve read that one! Isn’t that the one where he ties her up in the cabin?”
Rosie nearly choked on her wine. “Momo!”
Momo just laughed, her cheeks tinged pink. “What? It’s a good story. Very… captivating.”
Rosie covered her face with her hands. “I can’t believe you guys also read these books, I thought I was the only one in our friends.”
Mina scooted closer, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Please, I bet half the girls in our class have read these types of books. It’s just too juicy to resist.” She held up her own book, flashing the cover that showed a shirtless man with rugged tattoos. “This one’s about a mafia boss who kidnaps his enemy’s daughter. It’s so dramatic.”
Momo held up her novel, a more elegant cover but no less scandalous in nature. “Mine’s about a duke and his best friend’s sister. Forbidden romance, very… intense.”
Rosie’s jaw dropped. “Wait… you guys brought books too?”
Mina threw her head back and laughed. “Of course! What did you think? That you were the only one with a dirty mind who would bring a raunchy novel on a little vacay?”
Momo nodded. “It’s just fiction, play it’s fun to get lost in a little fantasy.”
Rosie’s embarrassment melted into laughter, her shoulders relaxing as she realized they were all on the same page—literally. “The writing is so cheesy sometimes.”
Mina grinned. “Oh, definitely. But that’s what makes it fun!” She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “So, where are you in the story? Did they get to the part in the cabin yet?”
Rosie’s cheeks went crimson. “I… I just got to that part.”
Mina and Momo exchanged excited looks before bursting into laughter. “Oh, that’s the best part!” Momo giggled, sipping her wine.
They continued to laugh and gossip, sharing their favorite scenes and debating which hero was the most swoon-worthy. Rosie had never felt closer to the girls than in that moment, their shared secret making them feel like partners in crime.
She never would have guessed that a raunchy romance novel would be the thing that bonded them even further, but as they lounged in the warm sun, sipping wine and laughing until their sides hurt, she realized that sometimes the most unexpected things brought people together.
And as they continued to share their guilty pleasures, the distant sound of the boys kayaking and paddleboarding echoed across the lake, completely oblivious to the girls’ scandalous conversation. Which Rosie was grateful for because she would die of embarrassment if her boyfriend found out her guilty pleasure and just what she was interested in.
Notes:
It was so embarrassing for me when my boyfriend found out what books I read , its not all I read obviously but I do have a goo collection of it haha
Chapter 37: You’re my girlfriend, and looking at you is one of my favorite things to do.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The living room was warm and cozy, lit by the soft glow of the overhead lights and the flicker of the fireplace. The night was quiet, the sound of crickets outside a soothing backdrop to the playful bickering and laughter inside. Scattered across the large coffee table was a colorful mountain of M&Ms, serving as the betting chips for the ongoing poker game.
Katsuki leaned back on the couch, his arms crossed as he smirked confidently, his pile of M&Ms noticeably larger than the others. Shoto sat across from him, his face as unreadable as ever, but his eyes held a flicker of competitive fire. Izuku was nervously chewing his lip, his cards held tightly to his chest as his gaze flicked between the others. Tokoyami’s expression was serious, his dark eyes narrowed in concentration. Meanwhile, Kirishima grinned broadly, his optimism unwavering despite his dwindling candy stash.
The girls were sprawled around the room, glasses of wine in hand as they watched the game unfold. Rosie sat on the floor next to Katsuki, her knees hugged to her chest as she tried not to giggle at his overly cocky demeanor. Momo was perched on the armrest of the couch, her own glass of red swirling lazily as she observed Shoto’s stoic face. Uraraka and Tsui sat together on the love seat, leaning in close and whispering about who they thought would win.
Mina was sprawled across the floor on her stomach, her chin resting on her hands as she watched Kirishima with a fond smile. “I’m putting my bet on Eiji,” she declared, popping an M&M into her mouth. “He’s gonna make a comeback.”
Rosie laughed, swirling her glass of rosé. “I don’t know, Katsuki’s been winning all night. It’s gonna take a miracle for him to lose now.”
Katsuki’s crimson eyes flicked to her, a smug grin spreading across his face. “Damn right. These losers don’t stand a chance.”
“Oh yeah?” Kirishima challenged, his grin fierce. “We’ll see about that, Blasty!”
Katsuki just shrugged, leaning back further with his arms behind his head. “Bring it on, Shitty Hair.”
Shoto’s voice was calm and even as he spoke, his face unreadable. “You’re awfully confident, Bakugou. Overconfidence can lead to poor decisions.”
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t make poor decisions. Only winners’ decisions.”
Mina snorted, rolling onto her back. “Ugh, the arrogance. I almost want him to lose just to see him sulk.”
Rosie hid her giggle behind her glass. “He does get pouty when he loses.”
Katsuki shot her a glare. “I do not pout.”
“Yes, you do,” Rosie teased, her eyes twinkling.
Before Katsuki could retort, Izuku cleared his throat. “Uh… I-I’ll raise.” He shakily pushed a small pile of M&Ms into the center, his face going red under everyone’s scrutinizing gaze.
“Midoriya’s raising?” Mina gasped in mock shock. “Oh, this is getting serious.”
Uraraka giggled. “I’ll bet on Deku! He’s got this!”
Tsui tilted her head, her voice calm as always. “You sure? He’s looking pretty nervous…”
Izuku’s blush deepened, and he looked down, muttering, “I-I’m fine…”
Shoto raised an eyebrow, pushing an equally modest pile of M&Ms into the center. “I’ll call.”
Kirishima’s grin widened as he matched the bet. “Me too!”
Tokoyami was silent as he added his own M&Ms to the pile. “The shadows favor my hand… I call as well.”
All eyes turned to Katsuki, who yawned lazily. “You’re all wasting your damn candy.” Without hesitation, he dumped a large handful into the center, his smirk widening. “I raise.”
The girls gasped, leaning in closer.
Mina shook her head, laughing. “Oh man, he’s ruthless!”
Rosie’s heart fluttered as she watched Katsuki’s eyes gleam with confidence, his sharp features illuminated by the warm light.
“I bet on Katsuki,” she said softly, her face flushing as she realized she had said it aloud.
Katsuki’s gaze softened for just a moment before his cocky mask returned. “Smart girl.”
“Focus,” Shoto interrupted, his cool voice breaking the playful tension. “Are we going to play, or are you going to flirt all night?”
Katsuki huffed. “You’re just mad because you’re losing.”
Shoto’s expression didn’t change. “We’ll see.”
The room fell silent as they all revealed their hands.
“Straight flush!” Katsuki declared, his grin wicked as he leaned forward and pulled the massive pile of M&Ms toward him. “Like I said… losers.”
Kirishima groaned, his head falling back against the couch. “Noooo! I was so close!”
Izuku looked devastated. “Ah… all my M&Ms…”
Shoto merely sighed, his eyes narrowing at Katsuki. “You got lucky.”
Katsuki snorted. “Nothing lucky about it. I’m just better than all of you.”
Mina shook her head, laughing. “Well, that was anticlimactic. I was rooting for Kirishima!”
Uraraka pouted. “I was hoping Deku would win…”
Momo stood, her voice calm. “Alright, you boys played long enough. Time to share those M&Ms. Fair and square.”
Katsuki’s expression darkened. “Like hell—”
Rosie leaned in close, her voice soft and sweet. “Please, Katsuki?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I did bet on you, after all.”
Katsuki grumbled under his breath as he divided up the M&Ms, his usual scowl softened by the playful sparkle in his eyes. Rosie beamed, giving him a quick peck on the cheek as she took her share, her smile wide. The rest of the group teased him, earning a string of curses and blushing denials.
“We should watch a movie!” Momo clapped her hands, her face lighting up with excitement.
“I’ll make popcorn!” Mina jumped up, practically vibrating with energy.
“I’ll grab blankets,” Uraraka volunteered, making her way toward the hall closet. Izuku and Kirishima followed, offering to carry the pile of blankets back into the living room.
Tsui stretched, her movements slow and lazy. “We’re going to head to bed,” she said softly, her usual calm demeanor unwavering. Tokoyami nodded beside her, his eyes already half-closed. They waved goodnight as they headed upstairs.
“I wanna pick the movie!” Rosie shot up from her seat, practically bouncing as she dashed over to the stack of DVDs by the TV.
The others laughed, their spirits high as they began to clean up the remnants of the poker game. In no time, everyone was settled in the living room, bundled up in blankets as the lights were switched off, leaving the room bathed in the eerie glow of the large flatscreen.
Uraraka and Izuku snuggled up on the love seat, her head resting on his shoulder as his arm wrapped protectively around her. Mina and Kirishima sprawled comfortably on the other love seat, her legs draped over his lap as she hugged a pillow.
On the main couch, Momo sat at one end, next to Shoto, whose relaxed posture gave away his curiosity about the movie choice. Rosie plopped down next to Shoto, her eyes bright with excitement, and Katsuki settled beside her at the other end, his arm resting casually on the back of the couch.
The movie started, the screen flashing with ominous shadows and haunting music. The atmosphere shifted as the suspense grew, the scenes growing darker and more intense.
Not even fifteen minutes in, Uraraka jumped with a small scream as a ghostly figure crawled out of a shadowy corner. Her grip on Izuku’s arm tightened, and she whimpered, “I-I don’t think I can do this...”
Izuku’s face went pale as another jump scare flashed across the screen. “Y-Yeah… m-maybe we should go to bed…”
Rosie tried to hold back her laughter as Uraraka scrambled off the love seat. Izuku hurriedly followed her, muttering a hasty goodnight before they disappeared up the stairs.
Momo let out a shaky breath, her fingers clutching the blanket tightly. She glanced at Rosie, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I… I think I’m done too… I’ll see you guys in the morning.” She gave a polite nod before retreating upstairs.
Mina snorted, shaking her head. “Bunch of babies. It’s all so fake.”
“They didn’t even get to the good parts yet,” Katsuki scoffed, his eyes never leaving the screen.
The movie continued, the tension building as the plot thickened. Mina’s excited chatter grew quieter and quieter until she was slumped against Kirishima, her head resting on his shoulder.
Kirishima smiled down at her, his expression soft. “She’s out.”
He carefully maneuvered himself, lifting her into his arms with ease. “I’m gonna get her to bed. Don’t stay up too late!” He gave them a playful wink before disappearing down the hall, Mina’s soft snores echoing behind him.
With the others gone, it was just Shoto, Rosie, and Katsuki.
The movie’s climax was a bloody, chaotic battle against the undead, limbs flying and blood splattering across the screen. Rosie’s eyes widened in fascination while Katsuki leaned forward, his grin growing wider with every gruesome scene. Shoto watched intently, his face impassive but his eyes sharp.
When the credits rolled, Shoto finally spoke. “That was pretty good.”
Rosie turned to him, grinning. “Right? The effects were awesome!”
Shoto’s expression was thoughtful. “It could’ve been better if they used more blood… but they should’ve made it spray less. It would’ve been more realistic that way.”
Katsuki let out a bark of laughter. “What’s with you and blood, Icy Hot?”
Shoto merely shrugged. “Just stating facts.”
He stood, stretching his arms above his head. “I’m heading to bed. Goodnight.” He walked out of the living room and left heading to the other lake house, leaving Rosie and Katsuki alone.
Katsuki leaned back, his arms resting behind his head as he looked at Rosie. “You heading to bed too?”
Rosie’s cheeks turned pink, and she fiddled with the hem of her tank top. “I… I don’t want to go to bed yet.” She looked up, her eyes bright. “Wanna watch another movie?”
Katsuki raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. “Nah. How ‘bout we go for a walk?”
Rosie blinked, surprised. “A walk? It’s one in the morning, Katsuki.”
He stood, grabbing his hoodie from the armrest. “Yeah, so? C’mon.”
Confused but curious, Rosie followed him outside. The air was cool and crisp, the night sky a sea of stars above them. They walked side by side in comfortable silence, the sound of crickets and the soft rustling of leaves filling the night air.
Katsuki led them around the edge of the lake, the moonlight reflecting off the still water. He finally stopped at a grassy spot by the shoreline, sitting down with his arms resting on his knees. Rosie hesitated for a moment before joining him, her gaze fixed on the shimmering water.
They sat in silence, the stars twinkling above them. The gentle breeze played with Rosie’s hair, and she hugged her knees to her chest, her heart fluttering as she stole a glance at Katsuki.
His face was relaxed, his usual scowl softened as he stared at the water. The moonlight danced across his sharp features, highlighting the quiet intensity in his eyes.
Rosie felt her cheeks grow warm, her heart pounding as she looked away, focusing on the stars. “It’s… beautiful out here,” she whispered.
Katsuki grunted, his voice low. “Yeah… it is.” He paused, his eyes flicking to her. “You looked like you didn’t wanna go to bed.”
Rosie laughed softly, her eyes sparkling. “You noticed?”
He rolled his eyes. “Course I did. I notice everything about you.”
Her breath caught, her heart doing a flip. She looked at him, her eyes searching his face. “Katsuki…”
He turned to face her, his eyes locking onto hers. His gaze was intense, his expression raw and vulnerable. “I… just wanted to spend more time with you.”
Rosie’s heart melted, her chest tightening. “Me too.”
They sat in comfortable silence, the world around them fading away as they watched the stars above.
“Our next trip should be to the beach!” Mina exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she stretched her arms above her head.
The group stood outside the lake house, the sun shining brightly overhead as they loaded the last of their bags into their cars. The air was filled with laughter and the lingering smell of sunscreen and lake water. Despite the exhaustion from the weekend’s adventures, everyone was smiling.
“That sounds like a blast!” Kirishima grinned, his eyes gleaming. “I’m down!”
“We could go after midterms!” Kaminari called out as he loaded Jirou’s bag and his into his car
“I’ll make a plan!” Momo said, her fingers already flying across her phone.
They all started saying their goodbyes, hugging and laughing as they reminisce about the weekend. Shoto stood off to the side, his usual stoic expression softening as Rosie gave him a tight hug. “Thanks for coming, Shoto. I’m glad you had fun!”
Shoto gave her a small smile. “I did. We should do this again sometime.”
“Definitely!” Rosie beamed.
Katsuki watched from a distance, his eyes narrowing slightly before Rosie turned to him, her face brightening. “Ready to go?”
He grunted, grabbing her bag and tossing it into his car. “Yeah. Let’s get going.”
Mina bounded over, her hair bouncing as she wrapped Rosie in a hug. “I’ll text you later! I still need to finish that book you recommended!”
Rosie laughed. “Hurry up and finish it! I need to gush about the ending!”
The group continued to exchange hugs and goodbyes before finally piling into their cars. Engines roared to life, and one by one, they pulled out of the driveway, waving at each other until they were out of sight.
Back at home, Rosie let out a long sigh as she dropped her bags by the door. Maya’s excited barks echoed through the house as the fluffy dog ran to greet her, her tail wagging furiously.
“Hey, baby girl! I missed you too!” Rosie cooed, crouching down to rub Maya’s head. The dog responded by licking her cheek, making Rosie giggle. “Alright, alright! Let me unpack, okay?”
Maya followed her from room to room, her eyes glued to Rosie as she unpacked her bags. Clothes were tossed into the laundry basket, her toiletries put away in the bathroom, and her hiking gear returned to its place in the closet.
Rosie started a load of laundry, humming to herself as she sorted her clothes. Maya sat by her feet, her head tilted curiously. “You want another treat, don’t you?” Rosie teased, her eyes narrowing playfully. Maya’s tail thumped against the floor in response.
Laughing, Rosie gave in and grabbed a dog biscuit from the kitchen, tossing it to Maya, who caught it mid-air. “You’re spoiled, you know that?”
After finishing her chores, Rosie settled at her desk, her textbooks spread out in front of her as she began her homework. Her pen danced across the pages as she took notes, her focus unwavering. Hours passed, and by the time she closed her last book, the sun had set.
Feeling accomplished, she poured herself a glass of wine and curled up on the couch, her favorite raunchy TV show playing on the screen. She sipped her wine, laughing at the over-the-top drama when a knock on her door startled her.
Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was just past eight. Her heart skipped a beat as she hurried to the door, opening it to find Katsuki standing there, his hair slightly tousled from work.
“Hey,” he greeted, his voice low and gruff.
Rosie’s face lit up. “Hey! Come in!” She stepped aside, letting him into the house. Maya rushed over, barking happily as she jumped up at him. Katsuki bent down, scratching her behind the ears. “Missed me, huh?”
“You just got off work?” Rosie asked, noticing the way his shoulders sagged with exhaustion.
“Yeah. Long shift,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
Rosie’s eyes softened. “Have you eaten yet?”
Katsuki shook his head. “Nah. I was gonna just grab something on the way home, but…”
Rosie’s face brightened. “I’ll cook for us!”
Katsuki’s eyes widened. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” she insisted, already moving towards the kitchen. “Besides, you look like you could use a good meal.”
Katsuki sighed, his expression softening. “Alright. But I’m helping.”
Together, they cooked dinner, their movements synchronized as they navigated the kitchen. Katsuki chopped vegetables while Rosie cooked the meat.
They ate on the couch, plates balanced on their laps as they watched a movie. Rosie snuggled up against him, her head resting on his shoulder as his arm wrapped around her. They stayed that way long after the credits rolled, the warmth of his embrace making her feel safe and content.
Their peaceful moment was interrupted by a series of notifications. Both of their phones buzzed repeatedly, lighting up with messages.
Katsuki groaned, reaching for his phone. “Who the hell is texting at this hour?”
Rosie sat up, her curiosity piqued as she watched him unlock his phone. She peeked over his shoulder, her eyes widening when she saw the group chat lighting up with pictures and videos.
Momo had sent a flood of photos from their weekend trip. There were shots of their hike, the group standing triumphantly at the top of the waterfall, wide smiles plastered across their faces. Everyone else sent photos they had taken as well.
They laughed at the videos of them jumping off the cliff, competing to make the biggest splash. There were candid shots of the girls playing volleyball, their expressions fierce and competitive, and some of Rosie, Mina, and Momo lounging with their wine and books.
Rosie’s cheeks turned pink when she realized Katsuki was saving every picture she was in. “Wait… are you saving all of my pictures?”
Katsuki didn’t even blink, “So what if I am?”
Rosie’s heart skipped a beat. “Can I… Can I see your camera roll?”
Just like before, he handed her his phone without hesitation.
Rosie scrolled through his photos, her eyes widening as she realized that the majority of them were of her. Some were candid, capturing her laughing or smiling. Others were of her with Maya, the two of them curled up together or playing in the dog park.
Her heart raced as she looked up at him, her voice soft. “Why do you have so many pictures of me?”
Katsuki looked away, his jaw clenched, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “Dunno… Just… like having ‘em. You’re my girlfriend, and looking at you is one of my favorite things to do.”
Rosie’s face turned bright red, her heart fluttering wildly. She stared at him, her eyes wide with surprise before a shy smile spread across her lips. “You’re… you’re actually really sweet, you know that?”
“Tch, don’t push it,” he grumbled, his ears turning red as he avoided her gaze. “Just ‘cause I like lookin’ at you doesn’t mean I’m some sap.”
Rosie giggled, the sound light and musical as she leaned in, her lips brushing softly against his. “I think that’s super sweet. What are other things you like to do?”
He raised an eyebrow, his ruby eyes glinting mischievously. “Other things, huh?” His arm wrapped around her, his grip firm yet gentle as he hoisted her closer to him, her body pressing against his. His voice dropped to a low murmur, his lips brushing her ear. “Kissing you.”
A shiver ran down Rosie’s spine as her breath hitched. “Well… I think you’re pretty good at that,” she whispered, her cheeks flushing.
He smirked, his lips curving in that cocky way that always made her heart race. “Yeah? Wanna see how good I can get?”
Before she could respond, his mouth captured hers, his lips firm and warm as they moved against hers. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as she melted into his embrace. He tasted like peppermint and caramel from the popcorn they shared, his scent enveloping her.
Time seemed to stand still as they kissed, the world outside fading away. His hand slid up her back, his fingers grazing her skin through her thin tank top, sending a wave of heat coursing through her. She sighed against his lips, her heart pounding as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing hers in a slow, deliberate motion that left her dizzy.
When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless, their foreheads touching as they struggled to catch their breath. Katsuki’s eyes were half-lidded, his gaze intense as his thumb traced her cheek. “You keep makin’ faces like that, and I won’t be able to stop,” he growled, his voice low and rough.
Rosie’s heart skipped a beat, her fingers playing with the hem of his shirt as she smiled up at him. “I wouldn’t mind that…”
His eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as he stared at her, his resolve wavering. “You’re playin’ with fire, doll.”
She bit her lip, her eyes sparkling. “Good thing I like the heat.”
He groaned, his fingers tightening on her waist. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”
Rosie laughed, her voice soft and musical. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”
He shook his head, his gaze softening. “Nah… It’s one of the things I like about you.”
She blinked, her heart flipping at his words. “You like things about me?”
He rolled his eyes, his cheeks tinged pink. “Duh. Why the hell do you think I’m here?”
She grinned, her fingers tracing circles on his chest. “I dunno… Maybe you just like my cooking.”
His mouth twitched, his eyes gleaming. “It’s definitely a bonus.” He leaned in, his lips brushing hers as he murmured, “But it’s not the only reason.”
Rosie’s heart swelled, her chest tightening as she looked up at him. “Then what else?”
He sighed, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re annoyingly cheerful. You never shut up. You get all excited over dumb stuff, and you always gotta have everything pink.” He paused, his voice softening. “But… you’re also the first person who’s ever made me feel… this way.”
Her breath caught, her eyes widening as she stared at him, her heart thundering in her chest. “Katsuki…”
His eyes flicked away, his cheeks burning. “Don’t make me say it again.”
Rosie’s smile grew, her eyes shimmering with tears she didn’t even realize were there. She hugged him tightly, burying her face in his shoulder. “You’re… You’re amazing, Katsuki.”
He scoffed, his arms wrapping around her as he held her close. “Yeah, I know.”
She pulled back, her eyes locking with his. “Are you staying the night since we don’t have class in the morning?”
“Yeah,” he kissed the top of her head as she cuddled into him more and he put on a new movie.
Notes:
Please drop a comment or a kudos!
Chapter 38: You knew exactly what you were into and why those little praises made you feel good.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie’s entire week had been hell.
Kanako had left for her vacation, leaving the café severely understaffed, and then Shinso called in sick, claiming a fever so high he was bedridden. That left Rosie and the other two co-workers, Yui and Limaria, to pick up the slack. Yui and Limaria were both pretty girls who also attended U.A. University, though they often flaked on their shifts. Thankfully, they’d stepped up, working alongside her through the long hours and bustling crowds.
Between studying for her classes, piles of homework, and back-to-back shifts at work, Rosie felt like she was running on fumes. Her phone was constantly buzzing with reminders and alarms, each one pushing her through her chaotic schedule. To make matters worse, she hadn’t seen Katsuki all week.
He was just as busy—between his classes, working and helping train Izuku at the gym, and even a dinner with his parents, he hadn’t had a moment to spare. She missed him more than she wanted to admit. Their usual late-night phone calls had been replaced with quick texts, and she longed to hear his gruff voice in person. The thought of seeing his crimson eyes and that cocky smirk made her heart flutter.
But she was holding out hope, because the weekend was just around the corner, and she was going to spend it with Katsuki. He’d mentioned something about a surprise, and that alone was enough to carry her through her grueling shifts. She couldn’t wait to see what he had planned.
During her break, Rosie slumped into the worn, cushiony chair in the café’s backroom, sighing in relief as she sank into the comfort. She pulled out her phone, swiping through her notifications when it suddenly rang, Mr. Grumpy flashing on the screen. Her heart skipped a beat, her lips curling into a smile as she eagerly answered.
“Hey,” she greeted, trying to keep her excitement from making her sound too eager.
“Oi,” his rough, low voice rumbled through the phone, sending shivers down her spine. “You on break?”
“Yeah, finally,” she sighed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s been a crazy week.”
“Tch, figures. You sound exhausted.”
“Gee, thanks,” she teased, leaning back into the chair. “Way to flatter a girl.”
A low chuckle came from the other end. “Brat.” His tone softened. “I’m pickin’ you up at your apartment tonight. Pack a bag. You’re stayin’ with me for the weekend.”
Rosie’s heart skipped. “Really?” She could barely contain her excitement. “Are we… going somewhere?”
“That’s the surprise,” Katsuki replied, his voice dropping into that low, teasing rasp that made her stomach flutter. “Pack for the cotton swab too.”
Rosie’s smile widened. She adored Maya, and the thought of spending the weekend with both her and Katsuki sounded like heaven. “Alright, I’ll pack for her too. Should I bring anything specific?”
“Yeah. Pack somethin’ nice. We’re goin’ out to a restaurant one night.”
Her cheeks flushed at the thought of getting dressed up and going out with him. It wasn’t often they went on traditional dates, so the idea felt extra special. “Got it. Anything else?”
“Nope. Just be ready when I get there. Don’t keep me waitin’.”
She giggled. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
There was a pause before his voice softened. “See ya tonight, doll.”
Her heart skipped, her face heating up instantly. “Y-Yeah… see you.”
He hung up, leaving her staring at her phone, her cheeks burning. Doll. He’d called her Doll again. Her mind raced, replaying the way his voice had dipped, all gravelly and affectionate. She was so flustered and giddy that she didn’t hear the bell chime as someone entered the café.
“Hey, can I get an Americano?”
Rosie jolted, quickly standing up and nearly dropping her phone. She found Riku standing at the counter, his hands shoved in his pockets, his expression casual.
“Oh! Yeah, sure! Sorry, I was just… on break,” she stammered, her cheeks still warm.
He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he looked her over. “You look… happy. Something good happen?”
Rosie’s smile returned, her thoughts drifting back to Katsuki’s voice. “I’m just excited. I’m going away for the weekend.” She busied herself at the coffee machine, but she couldn’t hide the joy in her voice. “I really need a break from all this.”
Riku’s shoulders stiffened. “Oh. With friends?”
“Yeah,” she lied easily, glancing over her shoulder. “And Maya’s coming too.”
His expression faltered, something almost unreadable flickering across his face. “I see… sounds fun.”
“Yeah, it will be.” She beamed, the excitement bubbling up once more. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”
Riku opened his mouth as if to say something but quickly closed it. He cleared his throat, his gaze shifting away. “Well… have fun then.”
He took his coffee from her, his fingers brushing against hers briefly. “See you around, Rosie.”
Before she could respond, he was already heading out the door, his shoulders rigid, his pace quicker than usual. Rosie blinked, her head tilting in confusion. That was… odd.
She shook it off, her thoughts quickly drifting back to Katsuki. She could hardly wait to pack her bag and spend the weekend with him. Whatever surprise he had planned, she knew it would be perfect.
Rosie hummed to herself as she zipped up her bag, double-checking Maya’s things were neatly tucked inside. A few toys, her favorite blanket, and enough food to last the weekend. She had packed her own bag earlier, making sure to include the dress Katsuki had hinted at for their night out. Her heart fluttered just thinking about it.
Dressed in black sweats and a black compression crop top that hugged her curves, she moved through her apartment with ease, her bare feet padding softly against the floor as she double-checked everything. Her hair was tied up messily, a few strands escaping and brushing against her neck.
She was just about to grab her phone when a firm knock echoed through her apartment. Her heart skipped a beat, a smile immediately lighting up her face. Katsuki.
Without a second thought, she sprinted to the door, yanking it open to reveal him leaning against the doorframe, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. His crimson eyes roamed over her, taking in her outfit with a smirk that made her knees go weak.
“Hey, Doll.” His voice was low, a teasing rasp to it that sent shivers down her spine.
Rosie didn’t respond. Instead, she launched herself at him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she jumped, her legs instinctively coiling around his waist. Katsuki’s reflexes were quick, his hands gripping her thighs tightly, his fingers digging into her soft skin.
“Whoa—” he started, but his words were swallowed as her lips crashed into his, her mouth hot and hungry against his.
A low growl rumbled from his chest, his arms tightening around her as he staggered back a step before pressing her up against the doorframe. Her back hit the wood, and she gasped, giving him the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss. His tongue slid against hers, fierce and demanding, and she moaned into his mouth, her fingers tangling in his spiky hair.
His lips were rough, his kisses possessive as he devoured her, his teeth grazing her lower lip before sucking on it. She whimpered, her body arching into his as his hands gripped her thighs tighter.
He pulled back just enough to look at her, his crimson eyes blazing. “Miss me, huh?”
“I have hardly seen you all week,” she panted, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glazed with desire. “You took too long.”
His laugh was low and wicked, his breath hot against her ear. “Didn’t know you’d be this needy for me, Doll.”
Her legs tightened around his waist, her nails digging into his shoulders. “You’re the one who told me not to keep you waiting.”
He grinned, his sharp canines flashing. “Damn right.” His lips crashed back onto hers, their mouths moving together, urgent and heated. He pressed his body against hers, pinning her further into the doorframe as his hips ground into hers, making her gasp.
Her fingers curled into his hair, tugging harshly, and he groaned, his hands slipping from her thighs, his rough palms brushing against the bare skin just below her crop top.
“Katsuki,” she breathed, her voice trembling as his lips trailed down her jaw, his teeth scraping against her sensitive skin. He bit down, just enough to leave a mark, and she gasped, her back arching, her chest pressing into him.
“Damn, Rosie,” he growled, his lips returning to hers, his tongue delving deep as if he wanted to consume her. She melted into him, her body responding to his touch, her skin igniting under his rough hands.
The world around them faded, the only thing that mattered was him—his mouth, his touch, his heat surrounding her. She felt his heart racing against her chest, his body tense and ready, his grip on her unrelenting.
She didn’t know how long they stayed like that, tangled together in the doorway, their breaths heavy, their kisses fierce and all-consuming. When they finally broke apart, they were both panting, their faces flushed, their eyes dark with want.
His forehead rested against hers, his breath mingling with hers as he smirked. “You ready, or are we stayin’ out here all night?”
She laughed, the sound breathless and light. “Only if you promise not to make me wait like that again.”
He grinned, his eyes gleaming. “I’ll make it up to ya this weekend, Doll. Promise.”
Her heart fluttered, her cheeks burning as she unwrapped her legs from his waist, sliding down his body until her feet touched the floor. He didn’t let her go, his hands still firm on her hips as his eyes roamed over her, his thumb stroking her bare skin.
“Missed you,” she admitted softly, her gaze dropping to his chest.
His hand cupped her chin, tilting her head up so she was looking at him. His eyes were warm, a rare softness in them. “Missed you too. C’mere.”
He pulled her into another kiss, this one slower, more tender. Her heart ached, her fingers curling into his shirt as she kissed him back, pouring all her emotions into it. She didn’t care if she was being clingy or needy—she just wanted him.
When they finally pulled apart, he leaned his forehead against hers again, his voice low and rough. “You ready to go?”
She grinned, her eyes sparkling. “Yeah. Bags are packed, and Maya’s things are ready.”
He chuckled, finally stepping inside as she moved to grab her bags. “Good. I’ve got somethin’ special planned for us. You’re gonna love it.”
Rosie’s heart fluttered again, the anticipation bubbling up inside her. “I can’t wait.”
He shot her a smirk, his eyes lingering on her as she gathered her things. “And Doll?”
She looked over her shoulder, her eyes wide. “Yeah?”
“That outfit’s dangerous. Better watch yourself this weekend.” His voice was teasing, but his eyes were dark, his gaze heated as he took in the sight of her in her tight crop top and sweats.
Rosie’s cheeks turned scarlet, her heart racing as she turned away, a giddy smile spreading across her face. “Maybe that’s the point.”
His low growl followed her as he collected her bags and she locked the door behind them.
Katsuki unlocked the hotel room door, stepping aside to let Rosie and Maya enter first. Rosie’s eyes went wide as she took in the room. It was spacious and luxurious, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a stunning view of Yokohama’s glittering skyline. The room was bathed in warm, golden light from elegant chandeliers, and the plush king-sized bed was draped with crisp, white linens that looked impossibly soft.
Maya immediately bolted inside, her tiny paws skidding on the polished hardwood floor before she dashed across the room, her fluffy tail wagging like crazy. She yipped excitedly, her little body a blur as she zoomed from one corner to the other, circling around the velvet armchairs and leaping onto the bed with a happy bark.
Rosie laughed, her shoulders relaxing as she watched Maya go absolutely feral with excitement, her tiny form sinking into the plush comforter as she rolled around, kicking her legs in the air. “She’s gonna tire herself out before dinner,” she giggled.
Katsuki smirked, tossing their bags down beside the armchair. “Good. Maybe then she won’t try to sleep between us like last time.” He wrapped his arms around Rosie’s waist, pulling her against his chest. “You look exhausted, Doll.”
She hummed, leaning back against him, her body fitting perfectly against his. “It’s been a long week... but this is amazing. I still can’t believe you did this.”
“Figured you needed a break.” His lips brushed her temple, his voice low and rough. “I’ll go get us food. You take a shower, relax a bit. I’ll be back soon.”
He turned her around, his crimson eyes soft as they gazed into hers. Her heart skipped a beat, her cheeks flushing at how effortlessly he could make her feel cherished. “Thank you, Katsuki,” she whispered, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
His hands tightened on her waist, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss, his mouth warm and possessive against hers. Her knees went weak, her body melting into his as his tongue brushed against hers, igniting a familiar fire in her core.
He pulled back, his lips still lingering close to hers. “Don’t miss me too much, Doll,” he teased, his smirk wicked.
She rolled her eyes, her heart racing as she playfully shoved his shoulder. “Just go before I change my mind.”
Katsuki laughed, his eyes gleaming. “Be back soon.” He ruffled Maya’s fur as he headed to the door, the little dog yipping at his hand before returning to her zoomies around the room. He glanced back at Rosie, his eyes lingering on her, soft and fond.
Her heart fluttered, her cheeks flushing.
With one last smirk, he closed the door behind him, leaving Rosie standing in the middle of the lavish hotel room, her head spinning from his kiss. She stood there for a moment, letting herself soak in the reality of it all. A weekend away in Yokohama. With Katsuki.
The moment she heard the elevator ding down the hall, she whipped out her phone, her fingers flying across the screen as she FaceTimed Akira.
Akira picked up on the third ring, her face filling the screen as she lounged on her bed, her hair wrapped up in a messy bun. “Rosie!” she greeted, her eyes sparkling. “What’s up?”
Rosie didn’t bother hiding her excitement. “You are not going to believe this!” she whispered, her voice giddy as she hurried into the bathroom, closing the door behind her to muffle any sound in case Katsuki came back early.
“What? What happened?” Akira sat up, her curiosity piqued.
“Katsuki took me away for the weekend. To Yokohama!” Rosie exclaimed, her eyes wide as she grinned, unable to contain her excitement. “We’re staying at this amazing hotel, and it’s so fancy, Akira! It’s got floor-to-ceiling windows and chandeliers and—”
Akira’s jaw dropped. “Wait, wait, wait. Katsuki took you to Yokohama? For the weekend? Just the two of you?”
Rosie nodded furiously. “Yes! He just left to get food, but we’re staying here the whole weekend. He even booked this huge room, and Maya’s here with us, and—”
Akira’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “Are you two finally gonna do it?”
Rosie’s eyes went wide, her face flushing a deep red. “Akira!” she hissed, her voice high-pitched and scandalized. “No! I mean... we haven’t... we haven’t even gone that far yet!”
Akira’s grin widened. “Seriously? Not even once?”
Rosie shook her head, her cheeks burning. “We’ve... we’ve kissed. A lot. But that’s it. Nothing more than that. Plus we’ve only been dating for almost a month, that’s way too soon.”
Akira’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Well, maybe this weekend is the perfect time for that.”
Rosie covered her face with her hands, groaning. “Don’t say that! Now I’m all flustered and overthinking it!”
Akira burst into laughter, leaning back on her bed as she clutched her stomach. “You’re so cute, Rosie. Seriously, if you’re not ready, don’t worry about it. But... if you are... just be safe, okay?”
Rosie peeked at her through her fingers, her face still red. “Akira!”
Akira winked. “Hey, just looking out for my best friend. Besides, if he’s treating you to a weekend in Yokohama, he’s clearly smitten. Have fun, Rosie. You deserve it.”
Rosie’s heart softened, a warm smile spreading across her face. “Thanks, Akira. I’ll text you all about it later.”
“You better, send pics of this hotel room too!” Akira teased, waving as she ended the call. “Have fun, lover girl!”
Rosie hung up, her heart racing as she leaned back against the bathroom door, her mind spinning. She glanced at herself in the mirror, her face flushed, her eyes wide with excitement and nerves.
This weekend was going to be unforgettable.
Rosie stepped out of the bathroom, her damp hair clinging to her shoulders as she towel-dried it, her movements slow and relaxed. She was wearing one of Katsuki’s shirts—soft and oversized, the fabric brushing against her bare thighs. It smelled like him, that familiar blend of caramel and spice that made her heart flutter. Paired with her tiny black shorts, she felt oddly vulnerable but also... safe.
The hotel room was dimly lit, golden light pooling from the bedside lamps, casting a warm glow across the plush king-sized bed and the sprawling city view beyond the massive windows. The scent of steaming ramen and teriyaki filled the air, making her stomach growl as she padded over to where Katsuki sat cross-legged on the floor, unpacking the takeout containers.
“Looks good,” she murmured, her voice soft as she plopped down beside him, her knees brushing against his thigh.
Katsuki glanced up, his crimson eyes lingering on her bare legs before flicking back to her face, his expression softening. “You better eat every bite. You’ve been running on fumes all week, Doll.”
Rosie smiled, warmth spreading through her chest as she reached for the steaming bowl of ramen, the rich aroma making her mouth water. “Yes, sir,” she teased, her eyes twinkling as she began to eat.
They ate in comfortable silence, the soft sounds of the city drifting through the slightly open window. Maya had curled up on one of the armchairs, her tiny body rising and falling with each peaceful breath.
Rosie couldn’t help but steal glances at Katsuki, her heart fluttering every time he slurped his noodles or let out a low grunt of approval at the taste of the teriyaki. There was something so domestic about it all—sitting here together in a hotel room, eating takeout on the floor, wearing his shirt... She felt a wave of warmth flood her chest, a contentedness she hadn’t known she craved.
When they finished eating, Katsuki leaned back, his arms stretched out behind him as he let out a satisfied sigh. “Damn, that hit the spot.” His eyes slid over to her, a lazy smirk curling on his lips. “You got sauce on your cheek, Doll.”
Rosie’s cheeks flushed as she quickly wiped at her face. “Did I get it?”
His grin widened. “Nope.” He reached over, his thumb brushing over her cheek, his touch lingering just a little too long before he pulled back, his eyes darkening. “There.”
Her heart skipped a beat, her face growing warm under his intense gaze. She swallowed, her fingers curling into the hem of his shirt. “Thanks.”
Katsuki’s eyes lingered on her for a moment before he stood, stretching his arms above his head, his muscles flexing beneath his tight black shirt. “Gonna take a shower. Don’t fall asleep on me.”
Rosie giggled, leaning back against the bed as she watched him stride toward the bathroom. “I won’t. Promise.”
He paused at the doorway, his head turning just enough for her to catch the glint in his eye. “Good girl.” And then he disappeared inside, the sound of running water echoing through the room.
Rosie sat there, her heart pounding in her chest as her mind raced. Good girl. Why did those words make her stomach do flips?
Stupid Rosie, she thought. You knew exactly what you were into and why those little praises made you feel good.
She hugged her knees to her chest, her gaze drifting to the closed bathroom door. Was she... was she ready? To take that next step with him? They’d been dating for a while now, and every kiss, every touch, every whisper of his rough, low voice against her skin made her want more. But they’d never gone beyond that.
She felt her face heat up, her fingers curling against her bare thighs. Was it weird to be thinking about this now? Here, in a hotel room, with him just on the other side of the door, naked under the hot spray of water?
Her heart raced at the thought, her pulse quickening as she imagined him—his skin slick with water, his hair plastered to his forehead, his hands running over his muscled body...
She buried her face in her knees, groaning. “Get a grip, Rosie,” she muttered under her breath. But she couldn’t stop herself from thinking about it, about him. About how gentle he was with her, how protective. How his hands felt when they gripped her waist, his mouth hot and demanding against hers.
She chewed on her bottom lip, her fingers absently tracing the hem of his shirt. Was she ready? She didn’t know. But she trusted him. With everything.
The bathroom door clicked open, steam billowing out as Katsuki stepped out, his hair damp and messy, a towel slung low on his hips, revealing the hard lines of his abdomen.
Rosie’s mouth went dry, her eyes widening as she quickly averted her gaze, her face burning. “Y-You’re done already?”
Katsuki chuckled, his voice a low rumble. “Miss me that much, huh?” He moved over to his bag, digging out a pair of black sweats before glancing back at her, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “You’re all red, Doll.”
“I-I’m not!” she protested, her voice a little too high-pitched. “I’m just... hot! From the ramen!”
“Sure,” he teased, his grin wicked as he tugged on his sweats, the towel dropping just before he secured the waistband around his hips. “Whatever you say.”
Rosie’s heart pounded, her mind still racing with thoughts she wasn’t ready to admit. But as he crossed the room and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, she felt her chest tighten, her fingers instinctively reaching out to grasp his arm.
He pulled back, his eyes softening as he looked at her. “You good?”
She looked up at him, her heart swelling with so much love she thought it might burst. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for more...
She smiled, her fingers tightening on his arm. “Yeah. I’m good.”
He ruffled her hair, his laughter warm and fond. “Good, now come to bed.”
Climbing into bed, Rosie immediately curled into Katsuki’s side just as he leaned over to turn off the light. His arms wrapping around her in a possessive grip.
Notes:
hope you guys loved this chapter!
Chapter 39: At this rate, he was going to fucking cream his pants like some sex-starved teenager.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki never thought he'd be the type to do all this ridiculous, overly affectionate, lovey-dovey crap. Before Rosie, he had always rolled his eyes at couples taking a million photos, giggling at inside jokes, and doing coordinated poses in front of landmarks. He used to mutter insults under his breath whenever he saw people blocking walkways just to get the "perfect shot" for their social media.
And yet, here he was, standing at Tombori Riverwalk, with Rosie clinging to his arm, insisting they take yet another photo together.
She was breathtaking, as always. The short white dress she wore was decorated with delicate pink flowers, the hem swaying around her thighs with each step she took. Her white flats clicked lightly against the pavement as she beamed up at him, eyes bright with excitement.
“Come on, Katsuki! One more,” she pleaded, holding up her phone as she pulled him toward the railing that overlooked the water.
He grumbled but didn’t resist, letting her position them just right so the neon lights of Dotonbori shimmered behind them in the river’s reflection. Rosie leaned her head against his shoulder, flashing a peace sign while he merely sighed and threw an arm around her waist.
“Smile!” she commanded.
“Tch. I am smiling,” he muttered, though it was more of a smirk.
She snapped the photo, immediately looking at it with a grin. “Aww, we look so cute! Look at you, all boyfriend-y and stuff.”
He rolled his eyes, stuffing his hands in his pockets as they continued walking along the river. “Yeah, yeah. I’m a real prince charming.”
Rosie giggled, leaning into his side as they walked. “You kind of are.”
Minoh Falls was their next stop, and as they hiked the short trail leading up to the waterfall, Katsuki found himself stealing glances at her every so often. The way she moved, the way she laughed, the way she excitedly pointed out different flowers along the path—it was impossible not to admire her.
By the time they reached the falls, Rosie gasped, spinning in a small circle as she took in the view. The waterfall cascaded down the rock face, mist lightly spraying the air, the scene nothing short of magical.
“Katsuki, let’s take another one!” She grabbed his hand, dragging him toward a scenic spot.
He huffed but didn’t argue, standing behind her as she held up her phone again. This time, she surprised him by going on her tiptoes and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek just as she snapped the photo.
His face burned. “Oi, what the hell?”
She pulled away, laughing. “That was a good one, I bet! Lemme see—oh my God, it’s perfect.”
Those brief moments when she took control and had the confidence to kiss him made him flustered because it was rare for her to ever kiss him first. He always initiated affection, which he didn’t mind. He knew from the get go that she was easily shy, that she got embarrassed and flustered by the smallest of things.
One of the reasons he adored her.
She turned the phone to show him. And damn it, she was right. It was cute. His expression was caught between mild annoyance and flustered surprise, but Rosie’s kiss had softened the whole thing.
He just shook his head, clicking his tongue. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
She beamed. “I know.”
Their next stop was Namba Grand Kagetsu, where they watched a comedy performance. Katsuki, to his surprise, actually enjoyed it. Rosie laughed so hard she nearly fell over, gripping his arm while tears of joy glistened in her eyes. Watching her like that, so carefree and happy, made something warm settle in his chest.
Then came Nagai Botanical Gardens, where Rosie twirled through the pathways lined with seasonal blooms, holding his hand and spinning him along with her. He groaned dramatically but let her, watching her twirl like a fairy in her floral dress.
“Hey,” she said suddenly, squeezing his hand. “Did you ever think you’d be the type of guy who does cringy couple stuff?”
He snorted. “Hell no. Before you, I made fun of people who did this shit.”
Rosie gasped in mock horror. “How rude! And now?”
He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Now… I don’t mind it.”
She raised a brow. “Oh? And why’s that?”
Katsuki glanced down at her, then away. “’Cause it makes you happy,” he muttered.
Her smile was immediate, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled him down for a tight hug. “You’re so cute when you say stuff like that.”
“Shut up,” he grumbled into her hair, his hands settling around her waist.
Rosie just giggled, standing on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. “This day has been amazing.”
They went back to the hotel in the late afternoon, where they picked up the cotton swab and took her to the dog park. Rosie said that she tired easily and that if they were to take her to all the places they planned on going then she would have to be carried for the rest of the day.
“I’ll take the cotton swab to the nearby park,” Katsuki stated.
“You don’t mind?”
“Go start getting ready.”
He booked them reservations for a restaurant and he would take her dancing after at this popular nightclub.
“You’re amazing,” she blew him a kiss before slipping into the bathroom.
Grabbing the cotton swabs leash, he stared down at the small poodle who blinked up at him with her tail wagging before letting out a cheerful yap, her paws tapping against the floor eagerly.
“Alright, fluffball,” he muttered, leading her toward the door. “Let’s get this over with.”
After an hour at the park and a short trip to pick up a few things, Katsuki returned to the hotel. He closed the door behind him, stretching his arms above his head before stopping in his tracks at the sight before him.
Rosie stood in front of the vanity, her back to him, dressed in nothing but a short silk robe that barely grazed her mid-thighs. Her hair had been curled into soft waves, and her makeup was already done, accentuating her already stunning features.
She glanced at him through the mirror, a teasing smile on her lips. “Hey, welcome back.”
Katsuki swallowed thickly, his eyes darkening as he stalked over to her. His hands found her waist, turning her around to face him before capturing her lips in a deep, slow kiss. She melted into him, her fingers curling into his shirt.
When he pulled away, his gaze raked over her with open appreciation. “You’re gorgeous,” he murmured against her lips.
Rosie blushed, her fingers brushing against his chest. “I’m not even fully ready yet.”
He scoffed, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “Doesn’t matter. You’re gorgeous all the time.”
Her blush deepened, and she playfully shoved at his chest. “Go shower and get ready. We’ve got a fancy dinner ahead of us, mister.”
He smirked before stepping back. “Yeah, yeah. I won’t take long.”
Katsuki kept his promise, stepping out of the bathroom a short while later dressed sharply in a fitted red dress shirt with a black tie, dress pants, and a sleek jacket. He adjusted his tie in the mirror, running a hand through his still-damp hair before glancing toward the bedroom door.
When Rosie finally stepped out, Katsuki nearly forgot how to breathe.
She was a vision in a form-fitting black leather dress that hugged her curves perfectly, ending just mid-thigh, showcasing her toned legs. And to top it all off, she wore red heels, unintentionally matching him.
“Holy shit,” he muttered, his eyes sweeping over her before locking onto her own.
Rosie bit her lip, twirling slightly. “Too much?”
He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Nope. Just perfect. You’re gorgeous.”
Her heart fluttered at the sincerity in his voice. “You clean up nice yourself,” she teased, stepping closer to straighten his tie.
His hands found her hips, squeezing lightly. “Damn right I do. Now c’mon, let’s go.”
The restaurant Katsuki had chosen was nothing short of elegant. Dim lighting, chandeliers, and a live string quartet set the mood as they were led to their table near a large window overlooking the city.
Rosie glanced around in awe. “You really went all out, huh?”
Katsuki shrugged, setting down the menu. “Only the best for you.”
She smiled, taking his hand across the table. “You’re the best, you know that?”
He grumbled under his breath, but his ears turned pink. “Tch. Shut up and pick what you wanna eat.”
The dinner was perfect—steak for Katsuki, a gourmet soup for Rosie, and a shared bottle of wine. They talked, laughed, and stole little touches and kisses between bites. Rosie loved how Katsuki would cut his steak with sharp precision, how he always made sure her glass was full, and how he never once looked at his phone, giving her all of his attention.
When dessert arrived, she teasingly dipped her finger into the chocolate drizzle of her cake, holding it out to him.
Katsuki raised a brow. “Really?”
She smirked. “What? It’s romantic.”
Rolling his eyes, he grabbed her wrist, bringing her finger to his lips. His tongue flicked against the chocolate before sucking lightly.
Rosie’s breath hitched. “Katsuki,” she whispered.
He smirked. “What? It’s romantic,” he mocked.
She turned red, swatting at his arm. “Asshole.”
He laughed, finishing his last bite of cake. “C’mon. We’ve got one more stop.”
The moment they stepped into the club, the pounding bass of the music vibrated through their chests. Neon lights flickered across the packed dance floor, illuminating the throng of bodies moving in sync with the rhythm. The air was thick with the scent of liquor, sweat, and perfume, a heady mix that only added to the intoxicating atmosphere.
Katsuki barely had time to take in their surroundings before Rosie grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the bar.
"Two shots of tequila," she told the bartender with a grin, her eyes gleaming under the dim lights.
Katsuki smirked. "Tryin’ to get me drunk, princess?"
She rolled her eyes. "No, just trying to loosen you up."
The bartender slid the shots in front of them, and they clinked their glasses together before downing them in one go. The alcohol burned its way down, warm and electric, sending a slow, steady heat through their veins. Rosie let out a little gasp, shaking her head as the burn settled.
"Alright," she said, grabbing his hand again. "Come dance with me."
Katsuki groaned, but he let her pull him onto the floor, weaving through the crowd until they found a space just big enough for the two of them. The music shifted into a sultry beat, heavy and slow, pulsing through the air like a heartbeat.
Then, Rosie turned to him, her eyes lidded from the tequila’s warmth, her body already swaying.
Katsuki arched a brow as she placed her hands on his shoulders, pulling herself in close. He barely had time to react before she sank low, rolling her hips in a way that sent a jolt of heat straight through his core.
His fingers instinctively tightened on her waist, his breath hitching. "Tch… Where the hell did this come from?"
She only hummed in response, her lips curled into a teasing smile. The alcohol must have stripped away her inhibitions because there was no hesitation in her movements now. She let her body move freely to the rhythm, her head tilting back as she rolled her shoulders, her curves pressing into him in all the right ways.
Katsuki swallowed hard, his grip firming against her hips as she moved—slow, fluid, and undeniably tempting. The way her body molded against his, the way her hips rocked with the music, it was driving him insane.
Rosie hummed again, the sound vibrating through his chest, and he clenched his jaw. Fuck. She knew exactly what she was doing.
"You enjoyin’ yourself?" he rasped against her ear, his breath hot against her skin.
She shivered but didn’t stop dancing, merely shifting her hips against him in a way that made his fingers dig even deeper into her flesh.
"Maybe," she teased, tilting her head to glance up at him.
Katsuki exhaled sharply through his nose, his self-control hanging by a thread. If she kept this up, he was gonna have to remind her exactly what happened when she played with fire.
But for now, he let her take the lead, his hands keeping her close as she danced for him—just for him.
Katsuki was barely holding it together.
Rosie moved like sin incarnate—her body rolling, pressing, and teasing in ways that made his blood run hot. His grip on her waist was a desperate attempt at restraint, his fingers digging into her hips as she swayed against him. The music thrummed around them, but all he could focus on was her—the heat of her body, the intoxicating scent of her perfume, the way her breath hitched every time she dipped just a little lower.
His jaw was tight, his breath uneven. Fuck. He should pull away, should put some space between them before he lost all sense of control. But then she turned to face him, her arms looping around his neck as she dragged her fingers through the short hairs at his nape. She tilted her head, lips parted, eyes half-lidded with something that made his stomach clench.
She was taunting him, and she knew it.
Katsuki clenched his fists, a growl low in his throat as he leaned in, his lips brushing just below her ear. “You tryin’ to drive me insane, doll?”
Rosie only hummed in response, her fingers toying with the collar of his shirt. “Maybe.”
He exhaled sharply, his grip tightening on her waist. He was so close to snapping, to pushing her against the nearest wall and showing her exactly what she was doing to him. But before he could act, Rosie suddenly stepped back, her body stilling.
"I'm gonna run to the bathroom," she told him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before slipping away through the crowd.
Katsuki exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair. He needed a second. Just one fucking second to collect himself before he did something reckless.
By the time Rosie returned, she was stretching her arms over her head, letting out a soft sigh. “Alright, I’m ready to go. I’m tired.”
Katsuki gave a sharp nod, grateful for the excuse to leave before he completely lost his grip on his self-control. He took her hand, leading her toward the exit.
The moment they stepped outside, they were met with a sudden downpour.
Rosie let out a surprised squeal, clutching Katsuki’s arm as the rain immediately drenched them both. “Oh my god, it’s pouring!”
Katsuki scoffed, tugging her forward. “Come on.”
She giggled as they ran through the parking lot, the rain soaking into their clothes, their hair plastered against their skin. Rosie’s laughter was light, infectious, and despite the cold droplets splashing against him, Katsuki couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips.
By the time they reached his car, she was breathless, her chest rising and falling as she collapsed into the passenger seat, still laughing softly. Katsuki shut the door, shaking the water from his hands before turning to look at her.
His breath caught.
Rosie was radiant—her skin flushed from dancing, droplets of rain clinging to her collarbones, her hair damp and curling at the ends. Her lips were slightly parted, and when she turned to meet his gaze, her expression softened into something tender, something warm.
She leaned over the center console, her fingers tracing over his jaw before she pressed her lips to his.
Katsuki didn’t hesitate. He cupped the back of her head, deepening the kiss instantly. The warmth of her mouth, the taste of tequila and something undeniably Rosie, made something inside him snap. His other hand found her waist, pulling her toward him as he groaned against her lips.
Rosie shifted, crawling over the console until she was straddling his lap, her hands bracing against his chest. The position made him let out a sharp breath, his hands sliding down to grip her thighs as her lips moved against his, desperate and unrelenting.
His fingers dug into her skin, pressing her down against him as he tilted his head, devouring every sound that left her mouth. His pulse pounded, his grip tightening as she rocked against him, her nails scraping against the fabric of his soaked dress shirt. The rain pattered against the windows, drowning out the sound of their heavy breathing, their muffled moans.
Katsuki pulled back just enough to press his forehead against hers, his voice rough, breathless. “You’re really testing my patience tonight.”
Rosie only grinned, her fingers toying with the damp strands of his hair. “I like testing you.”
Katsuki groaned, gripping her hips as he kissed her again, his self-control hanging by a thread. He was completely, utterly wrecked—and Rosie knew it.
“We should stop,” he rasped, resting his forehead against hers as he fought to regain his breath.
Rosie frowned, her fingers gripping the fabric of his dress shirt. “Is there something wrong with me?”
His eyes snapped open, a flicker of frustration flashing across his face. “What…?”
“We never do more than kiss…” she admitted quietly, eyes averted. “You always stop u–”
Katsuki cupped her face firmly, tilting her chin up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. His crimson eyes burned with intensity. “There is nothing wrong with you.” His tone left no room for argument.
Rosie swallowed, her lips parting slightly, but he wasn’t done.
“I stop because I know you’re still a virgin. We’ve only been dating for a month, known each other for two. I’ve never been in a relationship before, and neither have you, so I’ve been doing my damn best not to let things escalate too quickly.”
Her face was already flushed, but when he exhaled sharply and tightened his grip on her hips, his fingers digging into her soft skin, her breath hitched.
“Rosie,” his voice dropped lower, rougher, as if forcing himself to hold back, “you have no fucking idea how hard it is for me to stop myself from throwing you over my shoulder, dragging you to bed, and fucking you until you’re nothing more than a mess underneath me.”
She gasped softly, her entire body heating at his words.
“I find you absolutely gorgeous—so goddamn sexy that sometimes I have to walk it off before I lose all my self-control. You sit there looking at me with those eyes, wearing those little dresses, touching me like you do, and I have to remind myself to fucking breathe.” His grip on her face softened, his thumb stroking her cheek gently. “But I won’t do anything more unless you initiate it.”
Her lips parted slightly, her heartbeat thundering in her ears.
He continued, his tone firm yet tender. “I’m letting you set the pace. When it comes to intimacy, it’s your call. You say stop, I stop. You decide you’re ready, then I’ll take my time making sure you never regret it.”
“You mean that?” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the rain.
Katsuki smirked, leaning in just enough for their lips to almost brush. “Yeah, doll, I do.”
She exhaled shakily, her fingers gripping the collar of his shirt before she buried her face in his neck, overwhelmed.
He chuckled softly, rubbing circles into her back. “No rush, Rosie. I’ll wait as long as you need.”
Rosie hesitated for a moment, her fingers still gripping the fabric of his shirt as she peered up at him through her wet lashes. Her heart pounded in her chest, nerves twisting in her stomach, but beneath it all was a flicker of curiosity, of something deeper she had never fully explored.
“What if I want to try going a bit further?” she asked softly, her voice barely louder than the patter of rain against the windows.
Katsuki’s gaze darkened, his grip on her hips instinctively tightening. His breath was warm against her flushed skin as he studied her expression, searching for any hint of uncertainty. “It’s your choice,” he murmured, voice steady despite the tension coiling inside him.
Rosie swallowed, shifting slightly in his lap. “I… I want to try this,” she whispered, her voice carrying a nervous but determined edge.
Taking a slow breath, she hesitated before tentatively rolling her hips, testing the sensation, her thighs trembling slightly from both excitement and inexperience. The friction sent a rush of warmth spreading through her, and she bit her lip, feeling the heat of his body beneath her.
Katsuki tensed beneath her, a sharp exhale escaping his lips as his fingers dug into her sides. “Fuck,” he hissed, his head tipping back against the seat for a split second before his eyes snapped back to hers.
Encouraged by his reaction, Rosie shyly repeated the movement, a soft sigh slipping past her lips as she felt the way his body responded. It was exhilarating—how just a simple motion could make him grip her harder, his muscles taut with restraint.
“Rosie,” he warned, his voice strained.
But she wasn’t stopping—not yet. Not when every roll of her hips sent sparks down her spine, not when she could feel the heat radiating between them, igniting something raw and new inside her. Her fingers trailed up his chest, her breaths coming quicker as she rocked against him again, pressing herself closer.
Katsuki groaned, his hands sliding down to her thighs, squeezing firmly. “You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he muttered, his voice rough and low.
"Katsuki..."
“Lemme help you doll,” he panted as his hands tightened on her hips, his grip firm as he guided her movements. The slow, deliberate roll of her hips against his sent sparks of heat through him, his breath growing ragged. Rosie let out a soft hum, her lips curving into a teasing smile as she stared up at him.
He was losing it. Completely and utterly losing it.
She was grinding against him, her soaked panties rubbing against the hard bulge in his pants, and all he could think about was how badly he wanted her. How badly he needed her. His fingers dug into her hips, his self-control hanging by a thread. How the hell did she do this to him? Make him feel so desperate, so fucking wrecked?
He was Katsuki Bakugo—confident, composed, always in control. Yet here he was, losing his goddamn mind as she moved against him, her body pressing into his, her breath hot against his skin.
He buried his face in her hair, groaning as he bucked his hips up to meet hers, his movements growing more erratic, more needy. He should’ve been embarrassed by how desperate he felt, by how close he was to losing it entirely, but he didn’t care. Not when she was grinding on him like that. Not when she was moaning his name like that.
“Fuck, doll,” he groaned, his voice strained, his hands tightening on her as if he could anchor himself to her.
Rosie latched her mouth onto his neck, kissing, licking, and sucking at his skin, leaving little marks that made him shiver. She was driving him insane. Pushing him to the edge.
His control snapped.
Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he wrapped it around his hand and yanked her head back, baring her neck to him. He latched his mouth onto her skin, his teeth grazing her delicate flesh before sucking hard enough to leave his mark.
She moaned, her body arching against him, and he lost it.
He bucked his hips harder, grinding against her, his erection pressing against her soaked panties. She was so wet, so warm, and he was so hard it hurt.
He was desperate. Desperate in a way he had never been before.
He needed her. Needed to feel her, to claim her, to make her his.
At this rate, he was going to fucking cream his pants like some sex-starved teenager. But he couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop.
Because she felt so damn good. Because she was everything he had ever wanted, everything he had ever needed.
And she was his.
His to hold. His to touch.
His.
With another groan, he gripped her hips tighter, his body moving against hers with a need that was almost feral, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps.
He was hers just as much as she was his.
He snapped his hips against hers one more time before he watched her cry out, his name spilling from her lips as she clung to him. Her face was flushed, her eyes wide and blown as she stared up at him panting. Cradling her face in his hands, he brushed a few pieces of her hair behind her ear, "how are you feeling?"
"That was..." she trailed off.
He chuckled, "amazing?"
Rosie only nodded, her face flushed a beautiful red.
Katsuki placed several kisses on her cheeks, "You did so good."
"Did I?"
Cradling her face, he stroked her soft skin. "Want me to show you just how good you did?"
Her eyes grew wide, then peered down between them. He was grateful that she couldn't see since it was dark, otherwise she would see the evidence of his cum stained pants.
Notes:
I think I MIGHT have creamed my pants at this last part haha anyway hope you enjoyed this chapter<3
Chapter 40: It was their little game… and he had every intention of winning.
Notes:
Just a cute lil chapter<3
Chapter Text
Yawning, Rosie stretched, her body sinking deeper into the plush mattress. She was so warm, so comfy, cocooned in the thick comforter. She turned away from the sunlight creeping in through the window, trying to hold on to the dreamy haze of sleep for just a bit longer.
She didn’t even remember going to bed. The last thing she remembered was running through the rain with Katsuki, laughing as they bolted for his car, then...
Her eyes snapped open, her heart skipping a beat as she stared at the empty space beside her. Katsuki wasn’t there.
Last night, they had…
Rosie buried her face into the pillow, heat flooding her cheeks. She and Katsuki had dry humped like sex-starved teenagers until they both finished. Her body tingled at the memory, her embarrassment mixing with a thrill she couldn’t quite name.
“Good morning, doll.”
She peeked out from behind the pillow, her heart fluttering as she watched Katsuki stroll into the room, a steaming mug of coffee in hand. He looked annoyingly perfect, his hair tousled just right, his red eyes bright and alert. How did he always look so effortlessly good?
“Good morning,” she mumbled, accepting the cup, her fingers brushing his. It was warm, sweet, and creamy—just the way she liked it. “Did you go somewhere?”
He nodded, leaning against the headboard with his arms crossed. “Took the cotton swab out for a walk and ordered breakfast.”
Rosie’s heart softened at the thought of him waking up early just to walk Maya. “Thank you.”
He leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, his lips warm and soft. “You’re welcome,” he murmured, his voice low and affectionate.
She sipped the coffee, savoring the perfect blend of cream and sugar. “So, what’s our plan for today?”
“After breakfast, we’ll pack our stuff, check out, and head back home,” Katsuki said, his tone casual. “I’ve got a shift this afternoon and a gym session with Kirishima.”
“We have class with my Dad tomorrow in the morning,” she added, frowning. “Won’t you be tired?”
He shrugged, his expression unconcerned. “Nothing new.”
Rosie finished her coffee, setting the cup aside. Her heart fluttered as she hesitated before climbing into his lap, straddling him. Her fingers played with the hem of her shirt, her cheeks flushing as she remembered last night’s events. Had Katsuki been the one to change her out of her dress?
“Last night…” she began, her voice faltering as her gaze dropped. “Last night we…”
“We…?” His lips curved into a teasing smirk, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
She scowled, her embarrassment intensifying. Of course, he wanted her to say it. “We did more… We… uh…”
He chuckled, his chest rumbling beneath her. “What about it?”
“Can we do it again?” The words tumbled out before she could stop herself, her face turning crimson.
Katsuki’s brows rose in surprise. “As in right now?”
“No!” she sputtered, mortified. “Just… in general…” She looked away, her fingers twisting nervously in her shirt.
He cupped her chin, his touch firm yet gentle, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I already told you—you have complete control over our relationship.”
She shivered, his words sinking in, making her feel warm and cherished. “I see.”
A wicked grin spread across his face. “You’re so damn cute when you’re embarrassed.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m not cute!”
“Oh, you are.” His fingers danced along her sides, his smirk widening. “The cutest, actually.”
Before she could protest, his hands attacked, his fingers digging into her sides as he started tickling her mercilessly.
“Katsuki!” she squealed, wriggling on his lap as she tried to escape his relentless assault. “Stop! I… I can’t… breathe!”
“Not until you admit you’re cute,” he taunted, his grin mischievous as he continued his attack, his fingers finding every ticklish spot she had.
“I… I’m not—” She gasped, laughter spilling from her lips as she twisted and squirmed, trying to escape. “Katsuki!”
“You’re cute. Say it.” His fingers pressed into her ribs, making her arch and squeal.
“No!” she shouted, her cheeks flushing as she tried to push his hands away.
His eyes gleamed. “Wrong answer, doll.” He grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head as he hovered over her, his body pressing her into the mattress. His smirk was pure sin, his eyes dark and hungry. “Admit it.”
Her heart raced, her laughter fading as his face loomed closer, his breath hot against her lips. “I…”
Before she could respond, they heard a high-pitched yip. They both turned to see Maya barreling into the room, her fluffy body bouncing with excitement. The little poodle leaped onto the bed, her tail wagging furiously as she hopped around, yipping and barking as she tried to join in the fun.
“Maya!” Rosie laughed, her embarrassment forgotten as the tiny dog bounded onto Katsuki’s back, her little paws digging into his shoulders as she tried to lick his ear.
“Oi, cotton swab!” Katsuki growled, twisting his head to avoid the puppy’s enthusiastic tongue. “Quit it!”
Maya only barked louder, her tiny body bouncing as she yipped happily, clearly thrilled to be part of the action.
Rosie burst into laughter, her heart warming at the sight of Katsuki trying to fend off the tiny, fluffy menace. “She just wants to play too!”
“Tch. Annoying little furball,” he grumbled, but his eyes softened as he reached up, scratching Maya behind the ear. She yipped in delight, her tail wagging even faster.
Rosie watched them, her chest tightening with an overwhelming sense of affection. Katsuki looked so soft like this, his usual scowl replaced with an amused smile as he played with her dog. It was moments like this that made her heart go soft.
He turned his gaze back to her, his red eyes locking onto hers, his expression softening. “You’re still cute,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.
Her heart skipped a beat. “Shut up,” she muttered, her cheeks flushing as she looked away.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a tender, lingering kiss. “Nope,” he whispered against her mouth. “You’re adorable, and I’m never gonna stop telling you.”
Her heart swelled, her fingers curling into his shirt as she kissed him back, Maya barking happily beside them.
Rosie juggled her keys as Maya darted past her legs, the little poodle’s tail wagging excitedly as she raced into the apartment. Rosie laughed, nudging the door closed with her foot before setting her bags on the kitchen island. She looked around her apartment, feeling that familiar comfort of being home.
But something felt… off.
She couldn’t quite place it.
Her gaze shifted to the keypad by the door. Why hadn’t her alarm gone off? Her brow furrowed as she tried to remember if she’d set it before leaving. Then, heat flooded her cheeks.
She’d jumped Katsuki, practically attacking him with kisses the moment he’d walked through her door. They’d made out aggressively, his hands all over her as she pressed him against the wall. In the haze of passion and rushed goodbyes, she’d completely forgotten to set the alarm.
Rosie winced, feeling foolish. Oh well. Nothing had happened, and it wasn’t like she lived in a bad neighborhood.
She pushed the thought aside and started to unpack her bags, moving around the kitchen as she put away groceries and tidied up. Humming to herself, she did laundry, folding clothes as she watched TubeYou videos on her phone. One of her favorite creators was doing a live stream, their commentary making her laugh as she sorted her clothes into neat piles.
But as she moved through her apartment, she started to notice little things that seemed out of place.
Her throw blanket on the couch was folded differently, the corner draped over the armrest instead of the back. She tilted her head, staring at it for a moment before shrugging. Maybe she’d done that while she was packing and just didn’t remember.
In the bathroom, her hairbrush was slightly off-center, the bristles pointing in the wrong direction. Rosie frowned, adjusting it so it was aligned with her other toiletries. It was strange, but not completely out of the ordinary. Maybe she’d moved it when she was getting ready and just didn’t realize.
Returning to her room, she opened her closet to put away her clothes, only to pause as she noticed a few empty hangers.
Her favorite hoodie was missing. The one she always threw on when she was cold. She dug through her laundry pile, then checked her suitcase. Not there either.
Maybe she’d left it at Katsuki’s place. She rolled her eyes, making a mental note to ask him about it later.
She continued putting her clothes away, but unease prickled at the back of her mind. Things were just… off. Her makeup bag was unzipped, and she was pretty sure she’d closed it before she left. A few books were slightly out of place on her shelf, the spines not perfectly aligned like she usually kept them.
Rosie shook her head, letting out a soft laugh at herself. She was being paranoid. She’d been in a rush to pack, distracted by thoughts of Katsuki and their weekend getaway. Of course things would be a little out of place.
With her chores finally done, she settled onto the couch, Maya curling up beside her. She spent the rest of the afternoon watching videos and scrolling through social media, slowly letting herself relax.
The nagging feeling of unease didn’t fully leave her, but she ignored it. There was nothing to worry about.
Later, Rosie grabbed her keys and purse, calling out to Maya. “Be good, okay? I’ll be back soon.” Maya barked, her tail wagging as Rosie scratched behind her ear before heading out.
The grocery store was bustling with people, and Rosie quickly navigated the aisles, picking up essentials and a few treats. She was browsing the snack aisle when her phone buzzed.
She glanced at the screen, her heart doing a little flip when she saw Katsuki’s name. She answered, holding the phone to her ear as she tossed a bag of chips into her cart. “Hey, Katsuki.”
“Hey, doll,” his gruff voice came through the speaker, warm and familiar. “How’s your day going?”
“It’s been pretty good,” she said, pushing her cart toward the checkout line. “Just catching up on chores. I unpacked, did laundry, and now I’m getting groceries.”
“Did you eat?” he asked, his tone firm and slightly scolding. “You better not be running around on an empty stomach.”
Rosie laughed, her heart fluttering at his concern. “I made myself lunch before heading out.”
“Good,” he grunted, sounding satisfied. “You need anything?”
“Nope, just grabbing a few things. What about you? How’s your day been? How’s work?”
“Busy,” he replied, his voice softening. “Been thinkin’ about you, though.”
Her cheeks warmed, a shy smile spreading across her lips. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Missin’ my favorite pain in the ass,” he teased, his voice playful.
She rolled her eyes, fighting back a laugh. “You’re such a dork.”
“And you are still crazy about me regardless.”
Her heart skipped a beat, her chest tightening at his casual confession. “Yeah… I am,” she whispered, her voice soft.
There was a pause on the other end, and she could almost picture his face, his eyes softening as he leaned back, probably rubbing the back of his neck like he always did when he was flustered. “Good,” he said, his voice low and rough. “’Cause I’m crazy about you too doll.”
Her heart soared, a warm glow spreading through her chest. “You better.”
He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down her spine. “Finish up and get home safe, alright? I’ll call you later.”
“Okay. Bye, Katsuki.”
“Later, doll.”
She hung up, her heart racing as she finished her shopping, her thoughts drifting to him the whole way home.
But as she unlocked her apartment door, that familiar unease crept back in.
She shook it off, stepping inside and calling out for Maya. “I’m back!”
Maya’s yipping echoed from the bedroom, and Rosie smiled, her heart settling as she locked the door behind her.
She was just being paranoid. Everything was fine.
Doing her little dance of frustration, Rosie hopped on one foot, struggling to tug on her tights. “Come on, come on,” she muttered, wiggling her hips until the stubborn fabric finally slid into place. She huffed in victory, quickly smoothing them out before grabbing her white and black plaid skirt. She shivered as the cold air nipped at her legs, making her realize just how chilly the morning was.
She dashed around her room, yanking on her flats before rummaging through her dresser for her favorite sweater—the soft gray one Katsuki liked to touch. Pulling it over her head, she gave herself a once-over in the mirror, quickly fluffing her hair before rushing out of her bedroom. Her backpack sat by the door, her book and notebooks spilling out. She crammed everything inside, as she slung it over her shoulder.
“Maya, be good!” she called out, glancing back at the little poodle who was curled up on her couch, head lifting curiously as Rosie hurried out. “I’ll be back later!”
With her keys in hand, she locked the door and took off down the hall, practically skidding into the elevator. She jabbed the button repeatedly, bouncing on her toes as she watched the numbers slowly descend. “Come on, come on…” she groaned, feeling her heart race with anxiety. She was so late.
When the elevator doors finally opened, she rushed inside, catching her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was a little wild, and her lips were bare. Rosie scrambled for her lip gloss, quickly swiping the shiny pink color over her lips as the elevator descended. She pursed her lips, smacking them together before shoving the gloss back into her bag.
The doors slid open, and she bolted out of the building, the chilly air biting at her legs. She spotted Katsuki’s car parked at the curb, his unmistakable blond spikes visible through the window. He was leaning back in the driver’s seat, arms crossed as he watched her with an amused smirk.
Rosie ran toward the car, her breath visible in the cold morning air as she yanked the door open and threw herself into the passenger seat. She shut the door, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.
Katsuki raised an eyebrow, his crimson eyes glinting with amusement. “The hell you runnin’ from, doll?” he drawled, his voice teasing. “You look like you just finished a damn marathon.”
She shot him a glare, still panting as she threw her backpack at her feet. “Woke up… late,” she gasped, resting her head against the seat as she tried to steady her breathing. “Didn’t hear… my alarm.”
He chuckled, his smirk widening as he reached over, his fingers curling around the collar of her sweater. With a firm tug, he yanked her closer, her face mere inches from his. “Dumbass,” he murmured, his breath warm against her lips. “You’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached.”
Before she could retort, his mouth was on hers, rough and demanding, his lips molding against hers with a heat that made her head spin. Rosie melted into him, her fingers curling into his shirt as she kissed him back, her heart pounding for an entirely different reason now.
He pulled back, his smirk softening as he reached behind his seat. “Here,” he grunted, shoving a to-go cup into her hands. “Figured you’d need it.”
Rosie stared at the steaming cup of coffee, her chest tightening with affection. “You’re the best,” she whispered, taking a sip and sighing as the warmth spread through her. It was exactly how she liked it—cream and sugar, perfectly sweet.
“Damn right, I am,” he grumbled, starting the car. “Now buckle up. We’re already late ‘cause of your ass.”
She laughed, quickly fastening her seatbelt as he pulled away from the curb, the engine roaring to life. The drive to school was filled with the usual morning traffic, but Katsuki weaved through it effortlessly, his hand resting on the gear shift as he focused on the road. Rosie glanced over at him, her heart fluttering at how effortlessly cool he looked, his jaw set, his eyes sharp.
“So,” she said, taking another sip of her coffee. “What’s your schedule like today?”
He grunted, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel. “After Aizawa’s class, lunch with you and shitty hair. Chem got cancelled for me so I’m hitting the gym with Deku and Icy Hot. Then have work until eight tonight.”
She hummed, her fingers playing with the sleeve of her sweater. “I have work too as well. I work until ten though.” She wrinkled her nose. “Gonna be boring.”
“You’ll survive,” he teased, his lips quirking up. “Just don’t fall asleep and drool all over your desk.”
Rosie gasped, swatting his arm. “I don’t drool!”
“Sure ya don’t,” he snorted, his eyes glancing at her before looking back at the road. “You’re cute when you do, though.”
Her face turned bright red, and she looked out the window, biting her lip to hide her smile. “Shut up, Katsuki.”
They pulled into the campus parking lot, finding a spot near the entrance. Katsuki parked the car, getting out and grabbing his backpack. Rosie followed, the cold air nipping at her exposed legs as she adjusted her skirt. He came around to her side, his hand brushing against hers before he casually took hold of it, his fingers warm against her cold skin.
They walked toward the campus, their hands bumping against one another as they talked about their plans for the day.
“So, dinner at my place tonight?” Rosie asked, glancing up at him. “I was thinking of making that spicy stir fry you like.”
His eyes lit up, his grip tightening on her hand. “Hell yeah. You better make it extra spicy, though.”
“You know I will,” she laughed.
“Yo! Bakubro! Rosie!”
They turned to see Kirishima jogging up to them, his wide grin on full display. Mina was beside him, her pink hair bouncing as she waved excitedly.
“Morning!” Mina teased, waggling her eyebrows. “Slept in again, Rosie?”
Rosie blushed, scratching her cheek. “Maybe a little…”
Kirishima laughed, clapping Katsuki on the back. “I bet you gave her a hard time about it, huh?”
“Damn right, I did,” Katsuki grumbled, though his eyes softened as he glanced at Rosie. “Gotta keep her on her toes.”
Mina giggled, linking her arm with Rosie’s as they walked a few steps ahead of the boys. “You’re lucky you’re gorgeous. I don’t think he would’ve waited for you otherwise.”
Rosie’s lips curved into a teasing smile as she glanced over her shoulder at Katsuki. “Oh? Is that why you waited for me, Katsuki? Because I’m gorgeous?”
Katsuki rolled his eyes, his shoulders tensing as he looked away, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “Quit talkin’ nonsense,” he grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “We’re gonna be late.”
Rosie bit back a laugh, her heart fluttering as she looked back at Mina. “He’s so grumpy in the mornings,” she whispered, and Mina snickered, her golden eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Yeah, but he totally has a soft spot for you,” Mina teased, leaning in conspiratorially. “It’s adorable how flustered he gets.”
Rosie’s cheeks warmed, and she quickly looked away, her fingers nervously playing with the strap of her backpack. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
Mina’s grin widened, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t push it. Instead, she hugged Rosie’s arm tighter. “Oh! By the way, we’re having another girls’ sleepover this weekend! You have to come!”
Rosie’s eyes lit up. “Really? I’d love to! What’s the plan this time?”
Mina’s expression turned mysterious, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “I have something special planned. A friend of mine offered us a little surprise… but I’m keeping it a secret!”
Rosie’s curiosity piqued. “A surprise? Come on, Mina, give me a hint!”
“Nope! My lips are sealed!” Mina laughed, her playful energy infectious. “But I promise, you’re gonna love it!”
Rosie’s heart fluttered with anticipation, excitement bubbling up at the thought of another night of laughter, games, and gossip. “Alright, I’m in! I can’t wait!”
Meanwhile, a few steps behind, Katsuki and Kirishima walked side by side, their conversation focused on more serious matters.
“So, you still up for that training session tonight?” Kirishima asked, his sharp teeth glinting as he grinned. “I heard there’s a new weight routine that’s supposed to be brutal.”
Katsuki’s eyes lit up with determination. “Hell yeah. I’m always up for a challenge.” He clenched his fists, his muscles flexing. “Gotta keep gettin’ stronger.”
Kirishima nodded, his expression turning serious. “Yeah, me too. Can’t let my guard down for a second if I wanna keep up with you.”
Katsuki smirked, his confidence radiating. “Damn right, you can’t. But you’re still laggin’ behind, shitty hair.”
Kirishima laughed, clapping Katsuki on the back. “We’ll see about that! You better not go easy on me.”
Katsuki scoffed, his crimson eyes narrowing. “Like I ever do.”
They continued their banter, their voices growing more animated as they discussed new training techniques. But despite his focus on training, Katsuki’s eyes kept drifting to the girl laughing up ahead, her pink hair catching the sunlight as she walked arm-in-arm with Mina.
He couldn’t help the way his chest tightened when he saw her smile, the warmth that spread through him at the sound of her laughter. But he quickly shook it off, scowling at himself. He had to keep his guard up. If anyone found out about them…
Kirishima’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Hey, you okay, man? You’re quieter than usual.”
Katsuki grunted, quickly forcing his usual scowl back into place. “I’m fine. Just thinkin’ ‘bout the new routine.”
Kirishima beamed, easily buying the excuse. “Nice! We’re gonna crush it tonight!”
Katsuki nodded, his gaze shifting back to Rosie as she looked over her shoulder, her eyes meeting his for a brief second before she quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing pink.
He smirked, his heart pounding as he watched her try to play it cool. He’d never admit it out loud, but he liked the thrill of keeping this secret. Of sharing stolen glances and fleeting touches when no one was watching. It was their little game… and he had every intention of winning.
Chapter 41: Okay… you can do this, Rosie. You can totally seduce your super hot boyfriend.
Chapter Text
Rosie quickly hopped into the shower the moment she got home from work. It was already past ten, and she knew Katsuki would be coming over to stay the night. Just the thought of him staying over made her heart flutter—she’d gotten used to falling asleep beside him, his warm presence comforting her as she drifted off.
After drying off and changing into a cozy oversized sweater and shorts, she made her way to the kitchen. She’d bought all the ingredients to make spicy stir fry with steamed white rice yesterday, wanting to thank Katsuki with dinner for planning their weekend getaway. It was the least she could do after all the trouble he went through just to make her happy.
She had just started chopping up the vegetables when her phone began to ring. Glancing over, she saw Akira’s name flash on the screen. Grinning, she answered the FaceTime call and propped her phone up against the counter so she could continue cooking.
“Hey!” Akira’s bright smile filled the screen. “I was starting to think you fell off the face of the earth! How was your weekend getaway?”
Rosie’s cheeks instantly flushed, a warm smile spreading across her face. “It was… really nice,” she admitted, her fingers deftly slicing the bell peppers. “The view was breathtaking.”
Akira’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “No way! That sounds so romantic! Did you guys do anything special?”
“Yeah, we did a lot, actually,” Rosie continued, her voice softening as she thought back to all the places they’d visited. “Lemme send you photos.”
After sending all the cute couple photos and the views. She moved to the stove, heating up the pan as she tossed in the chopped vegetables, the sizzle filling the kitchen. “We even went to this comedy club for lunch.”
Akira laughed, her eyes wide with curiosity. “That’s so cute! And what else? Did he take you anywhere fancy?”
Rosie’s cheeks turned an even darker shade of pink. “Yeah… He took me to this really nice restaurant. It was super fancy, and I didn’t even know how to pronounce half the stuff on the menu.”
“Oh my god! Did he dress up?” Akira’s jaw dropped, her face getting closer to the camera. “Please tell me he wore a suit!”
“He did,” Rosie admitted, her heart fluttering at the memory. “And he looked so good. I couldn’t stop staring…” She quickly turned back to the stove, stirring the vegetables to hide her flustered expression. “After dinner, we went dancing. I was so nervous because I’ve never danced in front of him before, but he just… pulled me close and made me feel so safe.”
Akira let out a squeal, bouncing excitedly. “That’s so romantic! You’re killing me, Rosie! Dancing with your super-hot boyfriend in a suit? It’s straight out of a movie!”
Rosie’s lips curled into a shy smile as she added the sauce to the stir fry, the aroma filling the kitchen. “It really did feel like a dream…” Her voice grew quieter, her mind drifting back to how his arms felt around her, how his breath was warm against her neck as she had danced on him. “Then… we left the club…”
She trailed off, her face turning bright red.
Akira’s eyes widened, her voice rising with excitement. “Wait, wait, wait! What happened next?”
Rosie bit her lip, her heart racing as the memories flooded back. How they ran to the car, soaked from the sudden rain and then once they were inside. How he had stared at her, his eyes soft and smiling. Then she kissed him, climbed into his lap and they had dry humped until they both came.
“N-Nothing!” Rosie quickly turned back to the stove, her voice higher than usual. “We just… talked, went back to the hotel and went to bed.”
Akira let out an exaggerated gasp, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “Liar! You’re blushing like crazy! Oh my god, something happened, didn’t it?”
Rosie’s face grew even hotter. “Akira! Keep your voice down!” She whispered, glancing at the door as if Katsuki would walk in at any moment.
“He’s not even there yet, is he?” Akira teased. “Come on! Tell me everything!”
Rosie hesitated, nervously playing with the spoon as she stirred the stir fry. “W-Well… we just… got a little closer…”
Akira’s eyes widened, her jaw dropping. “Oh my god, you guys did it, didn’t you?!”
Rosie almost dropped the spoon, her eyes wide. “No! Not that! We just… um…” She covered her face with her hands, her voice muffled. “We… grinded until we…"
Akira let out another squeal, practically vibrating with excitement. “Oh my god! Rosie! I knew it! You two are so cute! How was it for your first time?”
Rosie’s heart softened at the memory. “I didn’t think I could orgasm just by….well y’know…”
Akira’s expression softened, her eyes growing misty. “I’m so happy for you, Rosie. You deserve all the happiness in the world.”
Rosie smiled, her heart warm as she looked down at the sizzling pan. “Thanks, Akira. I really do feel happy… and safe with him.”
“I can tell you how to get him to cum without even touching him,” Akira said, her wicked grin making Rosie’s heart race.
Rosie’s face grew hot, and she nearly dropped the spatula. “H-How so…?” she stammered, her curiosity getting the better of her despite her embarrassment.
Akira’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in closer to the camera. “It’s all about anticipation,” she purred. “Men are visual creatures, and Katsuki’s no different. All you have to do is tease him just right.”
Rosie’s eyes widened. “T-Tease him? Like how?”
“Simple,” Akira began, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Next time you’re together, wear something a little more… revealing. Something that shows off your legs or your curves. But here’s the trick—you act completely innocent about it. Like you have no idea what you’re doing to him.”
Rosie’s heart was racing, her face growing hotter by the second. “A-And then what…?”
Akira smirked. “Then, you get close to him. Real close. Touch him lightly—his arm, his shoulder, his chest. But nothing more than that. Just enough to make him want more but leave him hanging.”
Rosie’s breath hitched. “That sounds… evil.”
Akira laughed. “Oh, it is. But trust me, by the time you’re done, he’ll be begging for you.”
Rosie’s imagination ran wild, her thoughts drifting to Katsuki’s intense gaze, his muscular frame, his rough hands… She quickly shook her head, trying to snap out of it. “I-I don’t know if I could do that… I’d be too nervous.”
Akira waved her off. “You’ll do fine. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger anyway. Just bat those pretty eyes and play coy. He’ll lose his mind.”
Before Rosie could respond, there was a knock at her door. Her heart jumped, and she quickly glanced at the clock. “Oh no… he’s here already!”
Akira’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Perfect timing! Go answer the door and remember what I told you.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Good luck, seductress!” Then Akira eyed what she wore, “change out of that and wear that cute set we bought in Harajuku!”
Rosie’s face turned bright red. “Akira!” she hissed, but Akira just cackled before hanging up.
Taking a deep breath, Rosie wiped her hands on a towel and made her way to the door. She tried to calm her racing heart, but as soon as she opened the door, all rational thought flew out the window.
Katsuki stood there, his hair messy and damp with sweat, his chest rising and falling as if he’d just finished an intense workout. He wore a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips and a black compression shirt that clung to his muscular frame, showing off every contour of his chest and abs. The fabric was stretched taut against his biceps, and she could see the faint outline of his muscles through the damp material.
He looked downright sinful.
Rosie’s breath hitched, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of him. Her heart raced, her face flushing as her thoughts spiraled out of control. Why did he have to look so good? Why did he have to come over dressed like that?
Katsuki’s crimson eyes flicked over her, taking in her flushed cheeks and wide eyes. His lips curled into a smirk. “What’s with the look, princess?” he teased, his voice low and rough. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Rosie opened her mouth to respond but no words came out. She could only manage a small, helpless whimper.
His eyes darkened at that, his smirk widening as he took a step forward, forcing her to step back. “You okay?” he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement as he closed the door behind him with his foot, his intense gaze never leaving hers. “You look a little… flustered.”
Rosie’s back hit the wall, her breath catching as he leaned in, his face inches from hers. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, his scent—sweat, musk, and something distinctly him—making her head spin.
He braced one hand against the wall beside her head, his other hand slipping around her waist, pulling her flush against his firm body. “You’re all red,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “You sick or somethin’?”
His lips were so close, his hot breath brushing against her skin, sending shivers down her spine. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but stare into his fiery crimson eyes that were full of hunger and mischief.
“N-No…” she managed to whisper, her voice trembling. “I’m… I’m fine…”
His smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with wicked intent. “Oh yeah?” His fingers tightened on her waist, pressing her closer, her body molding against his hard muscles. “You don’t look fine to me.”
Rosie’s knees felt weak, her heart hammering in her chest. Her hands found his chest, her fingers splaying over the tight, damp fabric of his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin beneath. She swallowed hard, her mind racing as she tried to remember how to breathe.
Katsuki’s gaze dropped to her lips, his eyes darkening as his thumb brushed over her lower lip. “You’re actin’ weird,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Did somethin’ happen?”
Rosie’s breath hitched, her pulse racing. “N-No… I just… I…”
She couldn’t finish her sentence, her mind going blank as his lips crashed against hers, rough and demanding. She melted into him, her body going limp as his hand tangled in her hair, his other arm wrapping around her waist, holding her tight.
His lips were hot and hungry, his teeth grazing her lower lip before his tongue slipped into her mouth, exploring, tasting, claiming. She could feel his heart pounding against her chest, his muscles taut beneath her fingers as she clung to him, her body pressed against his.
He kissed her like he was starving, like he couldn’t get enough, his hands roaming her body, pulling her closer, tighter, until there was no space between them. His growl rumbled through his chest, the vibration sending shivers down her spine.
By the time he pulled back, Rosie was breathless, her lips swollen and tingling. Her head was spinning, her body trembling as she looked up at him, his eyes dark and blazing with desire.
He smirked, his thumb brushing over her cheek. “That’s more like it,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “You look real cute when you’re all flustered like that.”
Rosie’s face turned an even deeper shade of red, her heart pounding as she buried her face in his chest, her fingers clutching his shirt.
Katsuki’s laugh was low and rough, his arms tightening around her. “I’m going to shower.” He kissed the top of her head, his fingers stroking her hair before he pulled back, then he disappeared down the hall and into her bathroom.
Rosie swallowed thickly, her hands going back to her lips, her heart still racing, her mind still reeling from his kiss. She barely registered the food on the stove, her thoughts consumed by the way his lips felt on hers, the way his body felt pressed against hers.
She was in trouble… and she didn’t mind one bit.
They sat across from each other at the small dining table, plates filled with spicy stir fry and steamed white rice. The aroma filled the kitchen, warm and comforting. Katsuki dug in with his usual gusto, shoveling spoonfuls into his mouth and grunting in satisfaction. Rosie watched him with a soft smile, her heart fluttering at how much he seemed to enjoy her cooking.
“Damn good,” he muttered between bites, his eyes fixed on his plate. “You’re gonna spoil me, makin’ stuff like this.”
Rosie’s cheeks warmed at his praise, her fingers nervously playing with the stem of her wine glass. “Well, it’s the least I could do. You’ve been taking me out so much… felt like I owed you one.”
Katsuki snorted, glancing up at her with a playful smirk. “You don’t owe me nothin’, princess. But if you wanna keep cookin’ for me, I won’t complain.”
She laughed, taking a sip of her wine. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
They continued to eat, the comfortable silence between them filled only by the clinking of silverware and the occasional hum of satisfaction from Katsuki. When they finished, Rosie stood and began clearing the table, but Katsuki grabbed her wrist, stopping her.
“I’ll help,” he said, standing up and gathering the remaining dishes before she could protest.
Rosie blinked, watching as he walked over to the sink, rolling up his sleeves and turning on the faucet. She bit back a smile. Katsuki Bakugo doing dishes—it was a sight she never thought she’d see.
She joined him, rinsing off the plates before handing them to him to dry. His hands were quick and efficient, and they moved together in perfect sync, bumping shoulders every so often. Rosie felt a flutter of warmth in her chest, the domesticity of the moment making her heart ache in the best way.
As they finished up, Rosie leaned back against the kitchen island, sipping the last of her wine. She watched Katsuki put away the plates, his movements sure and steady, his muscles flexing beneath his shirt. She admired his profile, his sharp jawline, his determined expression.
The thought hit her suddenly, and before she could stop herself, she asked, “Will you become a Pro Hero after graduation?”
Katsuki stilled, his back to her as he paused mid-motion. Slowly, he set the plate down and turned to face her, his crimson eyes locking onto hers.
Rosie’s heart skipped a beat at the intensity of his gaze. She tightened her grip on her wine glass, trying to appear casual as she leaned against the counter.
“Yeah,” he answered after a beat, his voice firm and unwavering. “That’s the plan.”
She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “You’ve… already made arrangements?”
Katsuki nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. “Got some hero work lined up for next year. Gonna hit the ground runnin’ soon so by the time I graduate I’ll have plenty of experience and not be some loser sidekick.”
Rosie went quiet, her gaze dropping to the floor as she swirled the last bit of wine in her glass. She forced herself to take another sip, her chest tightening.
Katsuki watched her closely, his eyes narrowing. “Do you… not want me to be a Pro Hero?”
Her head snapped up, her eyes wide. “No! That’s not it. I just…” She hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with her glass. “I was just thinking… I’ll have less time with you.”
Katsuki blinked, his expression softening as he stared at her, stunned. A moment passed, and then he threw his head back and laughed, the deep, rich sound echoing through the kitchen. Rosie’s face burned with embarrassment, her shoulders hunching as she turned away. “Stop laughing!”
He only laughed harder, his shoulders shaking as he leaned against the counter, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “You… you thought…” He shook his head, wiping at his eyes. “You thought I’d be too busy for you?”
Rosie’s lips pursed, her cheeks burning. “Well… yeah… I mean, Pro Heroes are busy, right? They have patrols, missions, paperwork and—”
Katsuki cut her off by stepping forward, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into his chest. He pressed a firm, lingering kiss to the top of her head, his fingers gently combing through her hair. “Doll, that’s not gonna happen,” he murmured, his voice soft and steady. “No way in hell am I lettin’ hero work get in the way being with you.”
Rosie’s heart fluttered, her face buried in his chest as his scent enveloped her. She could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, the warmth of his body grounding her.
He pulled back just enough to tip her chin up, his eyes locking onto hers. “I’m gonna be busy, yeah. But I’ll make time. For you. Always.”
Her chest tightened, a lump forming in her throat. “Promise?”
Katsuki leaned in, his forehead pressing against hers, his eyes blazing with sincerity. “Promise.”
Rosie’s lips trembled, a soft smile breaking through as she leaned up on her tiptoes, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. His arms tightened around her, holding her close, his lips moving tenderly against hers.
“Go get ready for bed and I’ll finish the dishes,” Katsuki said, pressing one more kiss to her forehead before tapping her hip. Rosie’s heart did a little flip, her cheeks warm as she nodded and headed towards her bathroom.
Once inside, she closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Her mind wandered back to her conversation with Akira earlier. Akira’s wicked grin and teasing words echoed in her head: “I can tell you how to get him to cum without even touching him.”
Rosie’s face flamed bright red. She clutched her cheeks, staring at her reflection in the mirror. “Get a grip, Rosie,” she muttered to herself, grabbing her toothbrush and hastily brushing her teeth.
As she brushed, her eyes traveled over her outfit—an oversized sweater and plaid pajama shorts. Definitely not sexy.
She finished brushing her teeth and pulled off her sweater, standing in front of the mirror in her sports bra and kitty-print underwear. She cringed. They were cute, sure… but not seductive.
“This is not gonna work,” she whispered, glancing nervously at the bathroom door. She carefully cracked it open and peeked out. She could see Katsuki’s back from where she stood, still at the sink washing dishes. Good. She had time.
Rosie sprinted out of the bathroom, tiptoeing down the hall and darting into her bedroom. She immediately went for her dresser, pulling out her drawer of lingerie. It wasn’t like she had a lot of sexy stuff, but she had a few things that she wore just for herself. She dug around and finally found the pink lacy set Akira had insisted that she buy when they went to Harajuke.
It was delicate with little bows on the straps. Her face flamed again, but she swallowed her nerves and quickly swapped out her plain sports bra and kitty panties for the lacy set.
Rosie glanced at herself in the mirror. Her eyes widened. Okay… she actually looked… hot.
Then she yelped, grabbing for one of Katsuki’s shirts she had stolen weeks ago. It smelled like him, and it was huge on her, the hem falling just above her thighs. She yanked it on, feeling a little better now that she was at least partially covered.
She hesitated, then grabbed her strawberry lip gloss off her vanity, swiping it on her lips. It gave her lips a shiny, kissable look that made her heart race. Rosie glanced at the mirror one more time, taking in her pink-tinted lips, tousled hair, and Katsuki’s shirt barely covering her lacy pink panties. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach.
She blew out a breath, crawling into bed and pulling the comforter up to her waist. “Okay… you can do this, Rosie. You can totally seduce your super hot boyfriend.” She nodded to herself, determination flooding her veins. “You’re hot. You’re sexy. You’re a woman on a mission.”
Then she remembered how Katsuki had looked when he walked in earlier, sweaty and flushed, his tight shirt clinging to his muscles, his hair messy and wild.
Her face went beet red again. “Oh my God, I’m gonna die.” She covered her face with her hands. “No. No. You can do this. You got this. Just… be confident. Be cool. Be… sexy.”
A loud clatter from the kitchen made her jump. She peeked over the comforter and heard Katsuki muttering curses under his breath. She buried herself under the blankets, her voice coming out in a muffled whine, “I can’t do this…” Then she shook herself, forcing herself to sit up. “No! You’re Rosie! You’re awesome! And you are gonna seduce your boyfriend if it kills you!”
She puffed out her cheeks, giving herself a determined nod. “You’re super hot. This is nothing!”
From the kitchen, she heard Katsuki’s footsteps approaching. Her heart slammed against her ribs. She fluffed her hair one more time, wiped her sweaty palms on the sheets, and forced herself to look relaxed, leaning back on her pillows with what she hoped was a casual, inviting look.
The door opened, and Katsuki walked in, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, all done. Ready for bed, prin—”
He froze, his eyes widening as he took her in, his gaze sweeping over her tousled hair, flushed cheeks, and his oversized shirt barely covering her thighs. His eyes darkened, a low hum in his chest as he shut the door behind him, his movements slow and deliberate.
Rosie’s heart skipped a beat. Oh no… I might die after all.
“This is a sight I could get used to,” Katsuki murmured, his voice low and warm as he plugged his phone in on the other side of the bed. He turned back toward her, his eyes lingering on her, taking in the way his shirt hung off her shoulder, her legs curled under her, the pink flush on her cheeks illuminated by the neon lights from her window.
He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, his lips warm and lingering just a second longer than necessary. “How so?” she asked, her voice coming out a little shakier than she intended.
“Coming home to you like this… it’s perfect motivation,” he chuckled, his voice deep and rough around the edges. He flicked off the lamp, plunging the room into a soft glow from the city lights outside. He crawled under the covers, shifting to get comfortable, his arm casually draping across his forehead as he lay back.
Rosie stayed sitting up, her heart pounding. She watched the rise and fall of his chest, the way his shirt stretched over his muscles, his hair messy and wild from his shower. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, all swirling around Akira’s advice.
Confidence is key, Rosie. If you want him to melt, you gotta take charge.
She took a deep breath, her fingers clutching the edge of the comforter. Her heart raced as she replayed the words in her head, trying to summon every ounce of courage she had. She could do this. She would do this.
Finally, she nodded to herself, determination settling in. Before she could chicken out, she moved.
Katsuki’s eyes snapped open as she crawled over to him, her hands and knees sinking into the mattress as she swung her leg over his hips, straddling him. He blinked up at her, his eyes wide with surprise as she settled her weight on his lap, her thighs on either side of his waist.
His mouth parted, his hands instinctively moving to her hips, his fingers gripping the fabric of his own shirt that she was wearing. For a moment, he was silent, just staring up at her, his eyes darkening as they flicked over her face, taking in her flushed cheeks, her lip-glossed mouth, the way her hair fell around her shoulders.
Then his lips curved into a slow, wicked smirk. “That eager, huh?”
Rosie’s face went up in flames, her heart hammering so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She wanted to melt into the mattress and disappear, but she bit her lip, refusing to back down. She lifted her chin, trying to look confident even as her hands shook. “Maybe,” she challenged, her voice a little breathy. “You gonna do something about it?”
His smirk widened, his hands tightening on her hips as his thumbs drew slow, lazy circles over the fabric. “Oh, princess… you’re the inexperienced one,” he warned, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down her spine.
His eyes gleamed with a dangerous sort of hunger, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of his shirt that she was wearing, brushing against the soft lace of her panties. Rosie shivered, her breath catching as his hands explored, his eyes never leaving hers.
His grip tightened, and he lifted his hips just enough to press against her, his gaze darkening at the way her breath hitched, her body instinctively leaning into him. “Hope you’re ready for the consequences,” he murmured, his voice dripping with promise.
She didn’t mean to let out a whimper, but the feeling of him pressed so firmly against her was overwhelming.
“Katsuki…” Her voice wavered, a blush spreading across her cheeks as she tried to steady herself. “How are you already so…?”
He arched a brow, amusement flickering in his crimson eyes. “Hard?” he supplied, his lips curving into a teasing smile.
Rosie could only nod, her face growing even warmer. She felt vulnerable, exposed, but in the soft light of her room with him holding her so tenderly, she didn’t feel afraid.
His expression softened, the playful glint giving way to something gentler, more sincere. “Doll…” He chuckled softly, his breath warm against her skin as he sat up, bringing her closer to him. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair as he settled his hands on her hips. His thumbs brushed the delicate lace beneath his shirt, his touch gentle, reverent.
He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, his voice low and warm, “Just thinking about you gets me hard.” His mouth moved to her neck, his lips placing a tender kiss beneath her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.
Rosie felt her heart flutter, her pulse quickening at the way his voice softened, the way his hands held her with such care. “Then… how have I never noticed before?” she asked, her voice a whisper as she tilted her head, unconsciously giving him more access to her neck.
His lips curved into a faint smile against her skin, his nose brushing along the curve of her neck. He pulled her just a little closer, his body pressing softly into hers, his warmth enveloping her. She let out a soft sigh, her body instinctively leaning into him, fitting perfectly against him.
His fingers continued to trace gentle patterns along her hips, his touch warm and reassuring. “I’ve been careful,” he murmured, his voice gentle as his lips ghosted along her collarbone. “Didn’t want to pressure you… and you’re so damn oblivious sometimes.” His tone was teasing but soft, his affection clear in every word.
Rosie felt herself smile, her heart swelling at his confession. She ran her fingers through his hair, her touch light, tender. “I see,” she hummed, her voice soft and warm.
Katsuki lifted his head, his gaze meeting hers, his eyes impossibly gentle. He leaned in, his forehead resting against hers, his breath mingling with hers as he closed his eyes. “You mean the world to me, Rosie. I don’t mind waiting… as long as it’s you.”
Her heart fluttered, warmth blooming in her chest as she held him close. Slowly, she leaned in, her lips brushing his in a soft, tender kiss, her heart pouring into the gentle press of her mouth against his, then pulled away as she peered at him with a blush across her cheeks.
“I want to make you feel good again,” she murmured, her fingers playing with the hem of his shirt as her cheeks flushed pink. “But… I know I’m not experienced. The only experience I have is from Akira’s stories and…” She hesitated, her face growing warmer as she trailed off.
Katsuki’s lips quirked into an amused smirk. “Your books?” he teased, his voice low and playful.
Rosie’s eyes widened in shock, her head snapping up to look at him. “How…?”
He leaned back against the headboard, crossing his arms behind his head as his smirk widened. “I took a peek at your bookshelf,” he admitted, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Noticed some pretty interesting titles. Even took one to see what it is that my girlfriend amuses herself with during her self-care nights.” He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “Now I know exactly what your self-care consists of.”
Her entire face turned crimson as she scrambled to hide her face in her hands. “Oh my God…” she groaned.
Rosie tried to move off his lap in embarrassment, but Katsuki’s hands were firm on her hips, keeping her in place as his chest shook with silent laughter. “You’re not going anywhere, princess,” he chuckled, his voice warm and teasing. “Nothing to be ashamed of.”
She peeked at him through her fingers, her eyes still wide with mortification. “Really…?”
Katsuki’s eyes softened, his hands gently rubbing soothing circles on her hips. “Really,” he murmured. “It’s just porn… just in a different format.” He shrugged, his expression casual and nonchalant. “Why the hell would I judge you for reading your romance stories?”
Rosie’s eyes flicked away from his, her fingers twisting nervously in the hem of his shirt. “Because… it has smut in it…” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper.
He snorted, a playful grin lighting up his face. “And?” He tilted his head, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along her waist. “I’d rather you read your books than did what I used to do.”
Her brows furrowed as she looked up at him, her curiosity getting the better of her embarrassment. “What did you do?”
His playful expression faltered, his jaw tightening slightly. “By sleeping around. Hooking up with girls who only wanted me because I was a war hero or because they thought I was hot.” His eyes darkened, his grip on her hips tightening ever so slightly. “It meant nothing… but it was easier that way. No attachments. No complications.”
Her fingers reaching up to cup his face, her thumb brushing his cheek. “Katsuki…”
His eyes softened, leaning into her touch as he took a deep breath. “That’s why I’d never judge you for reading your books,” he continued, his voice earnest. “I’d rather you explore that side of yourself through your stories than… than what I did.” He sighed, his shoulders relaxing as he looked at her, his gaze tender. “You deserve more than that. You deserve everything.”
Her heart fluttered, her fingers trembling as she ran them through his hair. “Do you regret it?”
He gave her a small smile, his eyes warm and affectionate. “Yes, as it’s not something I’m proud of, as it started out as a coping mechanism but became a habit,” he admitted. “But… I’ve changed. Because of you.” His hands moved to cradle her face, his thumbs gently brushing her cheeks. “You make me want to be better… for you.”
Rosie’s eyes filled with tears, her heart feeling impossibly full. “Katsuki…”
He smiled softly, pressing his forehead against hers. “You’re the first person I’ve ever wanted… more than just physically,” he murmured, his voice raw with emotion. “I want all of you. Your smile, your laugh, your heart… everything.”
Her heart was pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. “I… I want that too,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I want… you.”
His eyes softened, his lips curving into the gentlest smile she had ever seen on him. “Good,” he whispered, his voice low and warm. “Because you’ve already got me.”
Her heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. “Oh…”
He chuckled, his fingers playing with a strand of her hair. “You really are oblivious, aren’t you?” His voice was teasing, but his eyes were so, so soft. “I think I fell for you when I first saw you but the moment you healed me… and you were too embarrassed to even notice as you quickly left confirmed it.”
Rosie’s lips parted in shock. “I… I just wanted to help…”
“I know,” he murmured, his thumb brushing her lower lip. “That’s what did me in. You were so damn kind… so bright. I hated it at first. Thought you were too perfect… too good to be true.” His eyes darkened, his voice dropping to a whisper. “And then you were real. You were—no are—clumsy, oblivious, shy… and I was done for.”
Rosie’s heart raced, her eyes widening. “You… really felt that way?”
He nodded, his gaze intense and unwavering. “Yeah… I did. Still do,” he admitted, his voice raw and honest. “I never thought I’d want more than just… physical stuff. But with you… I want everything. I want your mornings, your late nights, your bad days, your good days… all of it.” Then his eyes gleamed with mischief, his signature smirk returning. “Oh, and one more thing…”
“Hm?” she hummed.
His smirk widened, his hands slipping under the hem of his shirt that she wore, his fingers tracing the delicate lace underneath. “I fully intend to fulfill every one of your little fantasies from those books of yours,” he whispered, his voice low and wicked.
Her face turned bright red, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to form words. “I… you… Katsuki!”
He laughed, the sound deep and warm as he pulled her closer, his nose brushing hers. Rosie’s face flushed a deep pink, her eyes widening as she stared at him, mouth slightly agape. “W-what?”
Katsuki’s smirk only grew, his eyes gleaming with wicked amusement. “You heard me. I read the parts you highlighted, princess.”
Her heart nearly stopped. She felt heat flood her entire body as embarrassment surged through her. “I did not highlight anything!” she protested, her voice an octave higher than normal.
He raised a brow, looking far too pleased with himself. “Yeah? Then explain the folded corners on the steamy chapters?” He tightened his grip on her hips, preventing her from escaping his lap as she squirmed in mortification. “You really liked that one scene in the library, huh?”
She buried her face in her hands, letting out a mortified whine. “You weren’t supposed to see that!”
His laughter was warm and genuine, his chest rumbling beneath her as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. “Why not?” he teased, his lips brushing her ear. “Gives me a roadmap on how to fulfill those fantasies of yours, to pleasure you properly.”
“Katsuki!” She tried to pull back, but he wouldn’t let her, his eyes softening as he looked up at her, amusement dancing in his gaze.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he murmured, his fingers rubbing soothing circles on her back. “I like seeing this side of you. Makes me feel special, knowing that only I get to see it.”
She peeked up at him through her fingers, her heart fluttering at his words. The sincerity in his gaze made her chest tighten, her embarrassment slowly melting into something warmer, softer. “You… you really don’t think it’s weird?”
He rolled his eyes, leaning in to nuzzle her nose affectionately. “Nah. I’ll give you anything you want, Rosie… anything to make you happy.”
Her heart skipped a beat, his words wrapping around her like a warm embrace. She let her hands fall away, her fingers curling into his shirt as she leaned into him, her forehead resting against his. “You’re really not what I expected,” she whispered, her voice soft.
“Yeah… you’re definitely stuck with me, doll.” Then he chuckled, “it’s late. Seduce me tomorrow night.”
“It’s not seducing you if you are expecting it!” Rosie huffed, “I’ll never get to seduce you at this rate.”
“Oh is that so?”
Rosie should have known as soon as she saw that glint in his eye, but still wasn’t prepared when he flipped them over onto her back and he settled between her spread legs. “Doll,” he chuckled. “You don’t have to do anything extra to seduce me.”
She was going to seduce him if it killed her.
Notes:
hope you guys have a nice day! see you tomorrow<3
Chapter 42: I have feelings for Shoto.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was Wednesday, and Rosie felt like her brain was going to melt. She stared at the complex formulas and equations on her math homework, trying to make sense of them, but the numbers blurred together. Midterms were next week, and she was struggling to keep up, especially in Chemistry and Math. She let out a frustrated groan, dropping her pencil as she slumped against her bed.
A soft knock on her door made her turn just in time to see her father walk in. Aizawa looked just as exhausted as she felt, his Hero uniform wrinkled, his hair slightly disheveled. In one hand, he held a bag of takeout, the familiar logo of her favorite restaurant peeking out.
“Hey, sunshine,” he greeted, his voice low and warm.
A smile spread across Rosie’s face, the tension in her shoulders easing just a bit. “Hi, Dad.” She rubbed her tired eyes, pushing herself off the floor where she had been hunched over her homework. “Rough day?”
“Rough week,” Aizawa admitted, setting the takeout on her coffee table before crouching down to greet Maya, who was already wagging her tail excitedly, her tiny paws batting at his legs. “But I figured you could use some of your favorite comfort food, especially since you look as tired as I feel.”
Rosie let out a small laugh, moving to help him unpack the food. “Midterms…” she mumbled, her shoulders slumping. “Math and Chemistry are kicking my butt.”
Aizawa’s eyes softened, a hint of concern in his gaze. “You’ve been studying non-stop, huh?”
She nodded, letting out a sigh. “Yeah… I just feel like I’m not getting it. No matter how much I try to memorize the formulas, they just… don’t stick.”
Aizawa ruffled her hair gently, his touch warm and reassuring. “You’ll get there. Just don’t burn yourself out.” He paused, his lips quirking into a small smile. “And if you need help, you know you can always ask. I’m pretty good at math, you know.”
Rosie’s eyes brightened, a spark of hope igniting in her chest. “Really? You’d help me?”
“Of course,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “You’re my kid. I’m here to help you, no matter what.”
Her heart warmed, and she threw her arms around him in a hug, her head resting against his shoulder. “Thanks, Dad.”
Aizawa hugged her back, his fingers gently patting her back. “Anytime, sunshine.”
They sat on her couch with the takeout spread out between them. Rosie’s eyes sparkled as she opened her favorite dish, the smell of spicy noodles wafting through the room. They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the familiar comfort of each other’s presence easing the stress she had been feeling.
After they finished eating, Aizawa leaned back against her couch, his eyes flicking to her TV. “Up for a movie?”
Rosie’s face lit up, a grin spreading across her face. “Yeah! Which one?”
He smirked, pulling out a DVD from his pocket. “I found this in the storage room. Thought we could revisit one of the classics.”
Rosie’s eyes widened as she recognized the cover. “No way! John Wick?!”
Aizawa’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Of course. It’s tradition, isn’t it?”
Rosie eagerly jumped up, popping the DVD into the player before joining her dad on the bed. They settled in, Maya curling up at their feet as the movie started.
The familiar opening scenes played, and Rosie found herself instantly drawn in, even though she had seen the movie a dozen times. It was one of her favorites, a tradition she and her dad had shared for years. There was something oddly comforting about watching an action movie where one man went on a rampage for his dog. She never understood why, but she figured it had something to do with the way her dad always seemed to root for the underdog.
Halfway through the movie, during a particularly intense fight scene, Rosie glanced at her dad, noting the small smile on his face. “You never get tired of this, huh?”
Aizawa shrugged, his eyes still glued to the screen. “Good choreography. They don’t make action movies like this anymore.”
Rosie laughed, nudging him playfully. “You sound like an old man.”
His eyes flicked to her, a playful glint in them. “I am an old man.”
She giggled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “You’re not that old.”
He hummed in response, his arm wrapping around her shoulders as they continued watching in comfortable silence.
As the credits rolled, Aizawa turned to her, his expression softening. “So… besides stressing over midterms, how’s everything else?”
Rosie sighed, tucking her knees to her chest. “It’s… okay, I guess. Just a lot of pressure to do well, you know?”
Aizawa nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “You’ve always been hard on yourself… but you don’t have to be perfect, Rosie. Just do your best. That’s enough.”
Rosie’s shoulders relaxed, her heart warming at his words. “I’ll try…”
He looked at her, his eyes searching. “Do you know what you want to do after college?”
Rosie’s face softened, her gaze distant as she thought about it. “I think… I’d like to be a doctor. For Pro Heroes, specifically.”
Aizawa’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Like Miyu?”
Rosie nodded, a soft smile on her face. “Yeah… she always talked about how rewarding it was to help heroes get back on their feet. I… I think I’d like that too. Helping people who help others.”
Aizawa’s eyes softened, his expression turning gentle. “You’d be great at it,” he said quietly. “You’ve always been good at taking care of others.”
Rosie felt her cheeks warm, a shy smile spreading across her face. “You really think so?”
“I know so,” he said firmly. “You’ve got a good heart, Rosie. And a stubborn determination to help people… just like your mom.”
Her eyes grew misty, her heart tightening at the mention of her mom. “I… I want to make her proud.”
Aizawa wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “You already do.”
They sat like that for a while, the room quiet except for the faint hum of the end credits music. Rosie leaned into her dad’s side, her heart feeling lighter than it had all week.
“Thanks, Dad… for tonight,” she whispered. “I needed this.”
He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “Anytime, sunshine.”
It was Thursday afternoon, and the aroma of fresh pizza filled the kitchen as Rosie took another bite, savoring the gooey cheese and pepperoni. She sat at the island, legs swinging as she chewed thoughtfully, her math notes spread out in front of her.
“I still don’t get how you’re not getting this,” Kanako teased, leaning against the counter as she flipped through her own study guide. “You’re, like, the smartest person I know.”
Rosie groaned, her head dropping onto her notes. “Not when it comes to math. I feel like my brain just shuts down whenever I look at these equations.”
Shinsou snorted, leaning back in his chair as he grabbed another slice of pizza. “You’ll figure it out. You always do,” he said confidently before taking a bite.
Rosie lifted her head, giving him a playful glare. “I wish I had your confidence.”
He smirked, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Nah, you just need to stop overthinking it. Besides, once midterms are over, you’ll be back to your usual genius self.”
Kanako let out a dramatic sigh, her head resting on her palm. “I just want it to be over. History is going to be the death of me.”
Rosie laughed, her shoulders relaxing. “If you need help, we can study together tomorrow. History’s the one thing I actually feel good about.”
Kanako’s eyes sparkled with gratitude. “You’re a lifesaver, Ro!” She glanced at her phone when it buzzed, her eyes widening. “Be right back.” She dashed out of the kitchen, leaving Rosie and Shinsou alone.
An awkward silence settled between them, and Rosie focused on her notes, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest.
Shinsou cleared his throat, his voice softer than before. “Hey, Rosie?”
She looked up, her eyes meeting his curious violet gaze. “Yeah?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, his usual laid-back demeanor faltering for a moment. “I was thinking… after midterms, we’ll finally get a break. Would you… I mean, would you want to go to the aquarium with me? Maybe next weekend?”
Rosie’s eyes lit up, a bright smile spreading across her face. “Oh! That sounds like fun! I’ve always wanted to see the new jellyfish exhibit.”
Shinsou’s lips curved into a small smile, his shoulders relaxing. “Yeah, it’s supposed to be pretty cool. I figured it’d be something you’d like.”
The bell at the front clicked, signaling a customer’s arrival. Kanako’s voice carried from the front of the shop, greeting them cheerfully. Rosie turned back to Shinsou, still smiling. “So, like a hangout?”
His expression shifted, his eyes becoming more serious. “No… I meant, like, a date.”
Rosie’s smile faltered, her eyes widening. “Oh… a date?”
Shinsou’s cheeks tinged pink, his gaze flicking away before he forced himself to look at her. “Yeah… I like you, Rosie. I’ve liked you for a while now. And I thought… maybe we could see if you feel the same?”
Her heart sank, her fingers tightening around her pencil. She hadn’t seen this coming. She stared at him, her mind racing as she tried to find the right words. “I… I’m flattered, Shinsou. Really. You’re… amazing, and I care about you a lot but… I can’t go on a date with you.”
His shoulders tensed, a flicker of hurt crossing his face. “Why not?”
She looked down at her notes, her voice soft. “Because… I don’t like you like that. I care about you as a friend, but… my feelings aren’t… romantic.” She hesitated before adding, “And… I like someone else.”
Shinsou’s eyes dimmed, his face falling as he looked away. “Oh… I see.” He tried to play it off with a casual shrug, but his voice was tight. “Figures… just my luck, huh?”
Rosie’s heart ached, guilt twisting in her stomach. “I’m really sorry… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “Nah, it’s not your fault. Can’t help how you feel, right?”
She wanted to reach out, to comfort him somehow, but she didn’t know how. “I still want to go to the aquarium with you… as friends.”
He looked at her, his eyes conflicted before he sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Yeah… maybe.”
They sat in uncomfortable silence, the once-warm kitchen feeling colder than before. Rosie stared at her notes, the equations blurring together as she silently wished she could take away the hurt she had caused. The guilt was like an itch she couldn’t scratch, and she hated that she had ruined their usual easygoing vibe.
“Who is it?” Shinsou asked after some time, his voice quiet but steady. “If that’s okay to ask?”
Rosie’s heart skipped a beat, her pencil freezing over her notebook. Oh no. Oh no no no. She hadn’t expected this follow-up. Her brain went into overdrive, scrambling for a believable lie that wouldn’t make everything more awkward. Before she could muster a response, he cleared his throat.
“Is it Bakugou?”
Her heart jumped into her throat. “No!” The word came out way too fast, way too forceful. She forced herself to smile, trying to look as casual as possible. “We’re just best friends.” The lie rolled off her tongue with practiced ease, though she felt like her nose should’ve grown three inches. Just friends, right. Totally normal to want to kiss your “friend” senseless every time he smirked at you.
Shinsou narrowed his eyes, but he seemed to accept her answer, leaning back in his chair. “Huh. I figured… I dunno. You two spend a lot of time together.”
Rosie’s heart pounded as she mentally listed every possible excuse. “Well, yeah, but that’s just… you know, because we’re best friends. Like, study buddies.” She wanted to kick herself. Since when did she and Katsuki ever really study together? Now it was just them making out.
Shinsou shrugged. “Yeah, alright. If you say so.” He looked away, his fingers tapping the edge of his soda can. Then, as if a lightbulb went off in his head, he asked, “Is it Todoroki?”
Rosie almost choked on her own spit. “Shoto?!” she repeated, her voice going up an octave. “Why would you think—” She stopped herself, realizing that protesting too much would just make her sound suspicious. She quickly schooled her features into what she hoped was a neutral expression.
Shinsou rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I dunno. You guys get along, and he’s quiet, like you. And I’ve seen him help you with your homework a couple of times, he also comes her and you guys hangout too a lot.”
Okay, he had a point. Shoto was helpful and nice. In fact, he was basically the human embodiment of a prince in a fairytale. Good-looking, smart, polite… the whole package. He was perfect. And perfectly not her type.
Her type was… well, if she was honest, it was Katsuki. Tall, muscular, hot-tempered Katsuki, with his sharp tongue and arrogant smirk that made her knees weak. The same Katsuki who constantly teased her, called her ‘doll’ like it was her name, and made her heart race every time he was near. Yeah, no, there was no room for Shoto in her heart. It was completely occupied by a loud, brash, blond explosive maniac.
But admitting that was a big no. Her brain practically screamed at her to lie. And so, she smiled, trying to look as genuine as possible. “Yeah… Shoto. I have feelings for Shoto.”
It wasn’t a complete lie, she reasoned. Shoto was a great guy. In an alternate universe, maybe she could’ve had a crush on him if Katsuki didn’t exist. In an alternate universe where her brain wasn’t hardwired to light up like fireworks at the thought of Katsuki.
Shinsou nodded, a resigned look in his eyes. “Makes sense. He does seem like your type.”
Rosie had to hold back a laugh. Her type? Oh, if only he knew. Her type was someone who got into yelling matches over who would do the dishes, who huffed and grumbled but always took care of her, who gave her breathtaking smiles that made her feel like she could die right there. Her type was someone whose touch set her skin on fire and whose rough, calloused hands were gentler than she could’ve ever imagined.
But she could never admit that, not yet. So, she smiled and nodded. “Yeah… my type.” She almost cringed at how fake she sounded. Shoto wasn’t her type. Her type was the exact opposite of calm, stoic, and elegant Shoto. Her type was chaos incarnate.
Rosie turned back to her notes, praying that her face didn’t give away the internal meltdown she was currently having. If Katsuki ever found out she was pretending to have a crush on Shoto… oh, she’d never live it down. He’d probably gloat for weeks. Or better yet, get so jealous and start a fight with Shoto, who would be painfully oblivious as to the reason why.
She was so lost in her spiraling thoughts that she barely heard Shinsou mutter, “Well… I hope it works out for you.”
Rosie’s heart ached at the sadness in his voice, but she knew she was doing the right thing. Even if it meant pretending to be into someone she definitely wasn’t into. Even if it meant hiding her feelings for a little while longer. Because one day, she’d be able to not hide her relationship with Katsuki. And that day… well, she’d worry about that day when it came.
For now, she had to survive this conversation without giving herself away. And that, as she was quickly realizing, was easier said than done.
Walking into her dad’s class on Friday morning, Rosie was not expecting the class to be dead silent. Everyone was seated, backs straight, eyes glued to her dad, who stood leaning against his desk with his arms crossed, glaring at them like he was ready to hand out expulsion slips.
What the hell was going on?
“Dad?” Rosie asked cautiously, clutching her coffee cup as if it were a lifeline.
“Sunshine,” he greeted, his voice soft and gentle. But his eyes never strayed from his death glare aimed at the class.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to figure out which of these jokers you have a crush on.”
…WHAT?!
Rosie’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. She nearly dropped her coffee as her brain short-circuited. How did he know? They’d been so careful. She glanced around, heart hammering, catching sight of Katsuki looking annoyingly bored and unimpressed. Of course, he was completely unfazed. Why couldn’t she be that calm and indifferent?
“Oh my god, Dad,” she groaned, resisting the urge to facepalm. “Please don’t do this.”
“I overheard Shinsou telling one of Mic’s sidekicks that he confessed to you and you rejected him because you had feelings for one of the guys.”
Rosie swallowed hard.
Well, that explained a lot. Damn Shinsou and his stupid, honest mouth. He was going to have to buy her a very awkward apology lunch after this.
Her dad’s eyes narrowed, still scanning the class like a hawk hunting for prey.
“Why are the girls here then?”
“Just covering my bases,” he shrugged as if this were the most normal thing in the world.
“You do realize that most of your students are in relationships with one another, right?” Rosie asked, raising a brow. “Like, I can literally see Kaminari playing with Jirou’s hair right now.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t have feelings for one of them,” he countered easily.
Damn, he was good.
“I do have it narrowed down, though,” Aizawa continued, crossing his arms tighter. “It can only be one person here.”
Rosie kept her face neutral, willing herself to channel her dad’s deadpan indifference. “Oh yeah?” She cocked her hip to the side, the very picture of nonchalance. “Who?”
“Bakugou,” he stated flatly, his glare locking onto Katsuki like a missile.
Rosie felt her stomach flip, panic surging through her, but she kept her cool. Years of watching her dad be the most intimidating person in any room had taught her how to play this game.
She burst out laughing, loud and confident, earning curious looks from everyone. She even managed a convincing snort before stalking over to her dad, setting her coffee on his desk with a decisive clink.
“I thought you were supposed to be smart, Dad,” she said, rolling her eyes for good measure. “There’s no way I like Bakugou.”
She mentally congratulated herself for keeping a straight face. Katsuki was glaring at her now, his eyes practically burning a hole into the back of her head. She was going to have a lot of explaining to do later.
“Then who?” Aizawa pressed, clearly suspicious.
Rosie shrugged, putting on her best bored expression. “I have a crush on Shoto.”
The room exploded.
Everyone started talking at once. The girls were gasping, voices overlapping as they whispered and giggled, while the guys were loudly debating whether or not they’d seen this coming.
Rosie tried to tune out the chaos, focusing on not looking at Katsuki, whose stare she could feel from across the room. She could also feel Shoto’s eyes on her, and she knew she had to make this believable or everything would fall apart.
Aizawa blinked, his expression baffled. “Todoroki?”
“Yes, Dad.” Rosie forced herself to blush, just a little, for added realism. “I’ve had a crush on Todoroki since the first day.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Shoto straighten, his face completely composed. Then, with the perfect amount of awkwardness, he cleared his throat and looked at Aizawa. “I… um, I like Rosie too.”
Rosie nearly choked. Oh my god, Shoto was a better actor than she gave him credit for. She shot him a quick, grateful look, silently mouthing, “Thank you,” before turning back to her dad, who looked like his entire worldview had been turned upside down.
Meanwhile, she was mentally apologizing to Momo, knowing she’d have to explain this mess to her later. And to Katsuki… oh boy, she was definitely going to get an earful from him. But she couldn’t let herself think about that now. She had to sell this.
Aizawa stared at Shoto for a long moment, his eyes narrowing before he gave a slow nod. “Huh… I guess out of all the boys in my class, you do seem like the most viable option.”
Rosie kept her face neutral, nodding along as if she hadn’t just pulled off the lie of the century.
Her dad began to pace, his eyes unfocused as he went into full logical analysis mode. “He’s responsible, well-mannered… comes from a good family with wealth, so you’d be well taken care of. He’s smart, level-headed, and has great prospects as a future Pro Hero. He’s calm, disciplined, respectful—”
Rosie wanted to die. She could feel Katsuki’s anger radiating from his seat, and she was pretty sure his eye was twitching.
Aizawa continued, oblivious to the murder vibes coming from Katsuki. “Yes, if I had to pick someone from this class for you, Todoroki would be the safest bet. Polite, dependable, never in troubl—”
Rosie wondered if it was possible to crawl under her dad’s desk and disappear forever. She kept nodding, pretending to listen while internally screaming.
She made the mistake of glancing at Shoto, who gave her a small, sympathetic smile. She mouthed, “Sorry,” and he gave a subtle shrug, his face still perfectly composed. If he was mad, he didn’t show it.
Her dad finally stopped his monologue, looking at her with a nod of approval. “Alright then. If it’s Todoroki, I can live with that.”
Rosie forced herself to smile, keeping her voice calm and level. “Glad you approve, Dad.”
She risked a glance at Katsuki. He was glaring at her, jaw clenched, eyes blazing with fury. She mentally braced herself for the inevitable confrontation later. But for now, she had managed to dodge the bullet.
All she had to do now was survive the rest of the day without letting her dad see her break character. Easy, right?
As soon as class ended many of her classmates bolted out of there eager to get away from her Father and his glaring, while the group of girls dragged her out of there. She glanced at Katsuki to see that pissed jealous glint in his eye as he glared at Shoto who watched her get dragged away and she cringed.
The moment class ended, Rosie barely had time to grab her bag before the girls descended on her like vultures. Mina hooked an arm around her shoulders while Uraraka grabbed her wrist, practically dragging her out the door.
“W-what the—?!” Rosie yelped as they pulled her down the hallway, Momo and Jirou trailing behind with curious smiles.
“No time for questions!” Mina chirped, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “We need details!”
Before Rosie could protest, they were outside in the courtyard, surrounded by blooming flowers and the warm sun. Mina practically shoved her down onto a bench while the others crowded around, their eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“So, you like Shoto?!” Uraraka asked, her cheeks pink with excitement. “How long have you been crushing on him?”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Jirou demanded, leaning in close. “I thought we were friends!”
“What about Momo?” Mina asked, looking over her shoulder at Momo, who was standing slightly apart from the group, her smile strained and her eyes downcast.
Rosie’s chest tightened. Momo was trying to act happy, but Rosie could see the hurt in her eyes, the way her shoulders slumped ever so slightly. She was putting on a brave face, but Rosie could see right through it.
Rosie took a deep breath, her heart thudding in her chest. She couldn’t keep up this lie, not when it was hurting Momo. She had to come clean—at least about part of it.
“Momo,” she started, her voice soft but steady. “I don’t like Shoto, and Shoto doesn’t like me.”
Momo’s head snapped up, her eyes wide with surprise. The other girls started to speak, but Rosie quickly raised her hands, glancing around as if her dad might pop out of the bushes at any second. She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper.
“I have a crush on Katsuki,” she confessed, her cheeks flushing bright red. “And Shoto knows it, so he helped cover for me so my dad wouldn’t lose his shit on Katsuki.”
The courtyard fell silent, the girls’ eyes going wide. Then, in perfect synchronization, they all squatted down around Rosie, forming a huddle of conspiratorial smiles.
Momo let out a breath, her shoulders relaxing as a relieved smile spread across her face. Her eyes sparkled with understanding, and she reached out to squeeze Rosie’s hand. “Thank you… for telling me.”
Rosie squeezed back, her heart feeling a little lighter.
Mina, meanwhile, was practically vibrating with excitement. “I knew it!” she whispered, her eyes gleaming. “I totally knew it would happen! I called it ages ago!”
“You did not!” Jirou whispered back, smacking Mina on the arm. “You said she had a thing for Shinsou!”
“That was just a theory!” Mina argued, waving her hand dismissively. “I always knew it’d be Bakugou! The tension between them is insane!”
Uraraka giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “No wonder he was glaring so much during class. He looked ready to explode.”
Rosie buried her face in her hands, her cheeks burning. “Please don’t remind me… I’m going to have to talk to him later.”
“Yeah, you better,” Mina teased, wiggling her eyebrows. “Otherwise, he might actually murder Shoto.”
They all burst into quiet giggles, doing their best to keep their voices down. Rosie glanced over at Momo, who was smiling brightly now, her shoulders relaxed and her eyes shining with relief.
“Anyway don’t forget that tomorrow we have girls night!” Mina clapped her hands excitingly
Notes:
Nothing like misunderstandings and jealousy to make things interesting<3
Chapter 43: If only that fucking brainwashing quirk user kept his damn mouth shut.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki’s muscles strained as he gripped the barbell, sweat dripping down his face as he powered through his reps. The familiar burn in his arms grounded him, kept him focused. At least, it usually did.
But today, his mind was elsewhere.
He exhaled sharply, pushing the bar up with a grunt, but the image flashed behind his eyes again. Rosie, straddling his lap, her thighs warm and soft against his hips. Her hair was a mess, cascading around her flushed face, and her eyes—goddamn, her eyes—held that coy gleam that made his chest tighten and his pulse race.
Katsuki’s grip faltered, and he nearly lost his balance, quickly racking the bar before he could make an idiot of himself. He sat up, scowling as he dragged a hand through his damp hair. “Get it together,” he growled under his breath.
But his body refused to listen, heat spreading through his chest as his mind replayed the scene in vivid detail.
She had been wearing his shirt—his favorite one, the black one that hung off her shoulders just enough to drive him insane. It had swallowed her petite frame, falling to mid-thigh, but when she’d straddled him, the hem had ridden up, revealing a teasing glimpse of pink lace.
Pink. Lace.
Katsuki felt his jaw clench, his hands curling into fists. That tiny flash of pink had nearly ended him right then and there.
She’d tried to be bold, lowering herself onto his lap with that look in her eyes, that sweet, mischievous gleam that had his heart pounding. She’d moved slowly, deliberately, her fingers toying with his shirt collar as she leaned in, her warm breath brushing against his neck.
His breath hitched, his shoulders tensing as the memory played on repeat. Her confidence had wavered, just a little, her cheeks flushing that adorable pink as she tried to keep up her act. But he could see the nervousness in her eyes, the way she hesitated before pressing a kiss to his jaw, her lips soft and sweet.
She had been trying so damn hard to seduce him, and it was the cutest fucking thing he’d ever seen.
Katsuki let out a harsh breath, his face heating. He could still feel her weight on his lap, her hips shifting as she tried to find the right angle, her fingers tightening on his shoulders for balance. Her scent had filled his senses, sweet and intoxicating, making his head spin.
He had barely kept his composure, his fingers digging into her thighs to keep her steady, to keep himself from flipping her over and ravishing her right there. It had taken every ounce of restraint not to ruin her right then and there.
The thought of her, so delicate and soft, wrapped up in his clothes, her cheeks pink with embarrassment and excitement… she had looked so damn delicious. Utterly irresistible.
Katsuki cursed under his breath, his body reacting to the memory. His workout was ruined—there was no way he could focus now, not with her face burned into his mind, her laughter echoing in his ears.
“Damn it, Rosie…” he muttered, grabbing his towel and swiping it across his face. She was going to be the death of him.
And the worst part? He wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Hey man,” Kirishima frowned, tossing him a water bottle. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” he grunted.
“Girlfriend problems?”
“No,” Katsuki ran a hand through his hair. “Nothing like that.”
Katsuki’s fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white, his jaw set as he stalked across the parking lot. His bag swung wildly at his side, his muscles coiled and ready to explode. It wasn’t just the lie that pissed him off—it was the fact that she had to lie in the first place. All because of her paranoid old man who thought she was too good for him.
“Dude,” Kirishima’s voice was cautious, his footsteps quick as he caught up to Katsuki. “You know she doesn’t like Shoto.”
“Of course, I know!” Katsuki snapped, his eyes blazing as he spun around, his scowl fierce enough to make most people run in the opposite direction. But Kirishima stood firm, unfazed by his best friend’s fury. “I’m pissed at having to hear her old man basically say that I am not good enough for her! Not to mention that Icy Hot was so eager to play along!”
Kirishima crossed his arms, his expression sympathetic. “You know she didn’t have a choice. Aizawa’s scary, man. I’d lie too if it meant surviving his interrogation.”
Katsuki gritted his teeth, his shoulders rigid. “Doesn’t change the fact that she chose him.”
“She chose him because he’s safe, not because she likes him,” Kirishima reasoned. “She’s protecting you, dude.”
Katsuki knew he was right. But that didn’t stop his blood from boiling at the memory of her smiling at Todoroki, saying his name without even hesitating. It felt like a knife to the chest, even if he knew it was all for show.
A voice interrupted his thoughts, calm and infuriatingly indifferent. “Bakugou.”
Katsuki turned, his glare locking on Todoroki as he approached, hands in his pockets and that damn deadpan expression on his face. “Walk away, Icy Hot,” Katsuki warned, his voice low and dangerous. “Before I break your face.”
Todoroki didn’t even blink. “You can try.”
Kirishima groaned, rubbing his face. “Todoroki, you’re provoking him now.”
Katsuki’s vision went red. He didn’t even give a warning before his fist flew, crackling with explosions as he swung at Todoroki’s head.
Todoroki’s reflexes were quick, his body leaning back just enough to avoid the hit, his foot already moving to sweep Katsuki’s legs out from under him. But Katsuki was faster, using the momentum to propel himself into the air, landing behind Todoroki and aiming a blast at his back.
Todoroki spun around, his left side igniting in flames as he countered the explosion, the heat scorching the pavement. His eyes were cold, his jaw set as he squared off with Katsuki, his right hand already frosting over. “You’re being irrational.”
“Shut up!” Katsuki roared, his palms sparking with another explosion.
“I was helping her.” Todoroki answered, his tone annoyingly calm as he blocked another attack with a wall of ice.
“That’s not the point!” Katsuki’s fist shattered the ice, his eyes blazing with fury. “She shouldn’t have to lie! And she sure as hell shouldn’t have to say she likes you!”
Todoroki’s eyes narrowed, the flames on his left side intensifying. “I didn’t like it either.”
“Then why the hell did you do it?!” Katsuki demanded, lunging forward with a flurry of explosions that Todoroki barely deflected with a burst of flame. “You just wanted to hear her say it, didn’t you? You wanted her to pick you!”
Todoroki’s expression hardened, his shoulders tense. “I did it because she looked to me,” he repeated, his voice clipped. “Because she’s trying to protect you from her father. I thought you’d be smart enough to understand that.”
Katsuki’s fists trembled, his eyes wild with anger. He knew Todoroki was right—he knew she was trying to keep Aizawa off his back. But hearing her say she liked someone else, seeing her smile at Todoroki like that… it twisted his insides into knots.
“Yeah? Well, next time she asks you to lie for her, don’t.” Katsuki’s voice was a snarl, his eyes blazing. “I don’t need your help.”
Todoroki’s gaze softened, his flames flickering out as he took a step back. “You’re right. It was her choice.” His eyes met Katsuki’s, calm and unwavering. “But if she asked again, I’d do it. Not because I want her to like me, but because she is my friend”
Katsuki’s breath caught, his anger faltering. “You…” He growled, his shoulders shaking. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”
Todoroki’s lips quirked in a faint, humorless smile. “So I’ve been told.”
Katsuki’s fists unclenched, his body sagging as the fight drained out of him. He knew Todoroki was telling the truth. And that pissed him off even more.
Kirishima stepped in, his voice gentle but firm. “Alright, that’s enough fighting.” He glanced between them, his eyes worried. “Rosie wouldn’t want that.”
Katsuki scowled, shoving his hands into his pockets as he turned away. “Whatever. I’m done here.”
Todoroki watched him go, his eyes heavy with understanding. “Bakugou,” he called out, his voice steady.
Katsuki stopped, his back still turned. “What?”
“Rosie is your girlfriend.”
Katsuki’s shoulders stiffened before he turned his head slightly, his voice low. “Yeah… so keep your hands off her.” He hesitated, his fists clenching before he sighed, his gaze dropping. “And… sorry. For swinging at you.”
Todoroki blinked, his face blank before his lips twitched, barely hiding a smirk. “I’ll accept your apology if you buy me cold soba.”
Katsuki snorted, his glare losing its edge. “Cheap bastard.”
Kirishima grinned, slinging an arm around Todoroki’s shoulders. “Hey, the quad’s serving cold soba today. Let’s go before it sells out.”
Todoroki looked pleased, his expression softening. “Sounds good.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes but fell in step with them, his anger simmering down.
Later that evening, Katsuki leaned against the counter of the café, his hands shoved in his pockets as he watched Rosie work. She was moving behind the counter, tying her apron in that cute, messy bow at the back as she laughed at something Kanako said. She looked good—too good for her own damn good.
He watched as she concentrated, her tongue poking out slightly as she made the coffee, her fingers delicate as she worked the machine. A smug grin crossed his face as he remembered those same fingers digging into his shoulders, her body pressed against his…
“Hey, Bakugou,” Kanako called from the back as she finished wiping down a table. “Rosie’s getting off in five. You picking her up?”
“Yeah,” he answered, his eyes never leaving Rosie. “Thought I’d treat her to some company.”
Kanako laughed, shaking her head. “Right. Well, I’ve got to restock. Keep her out of trouble, will you?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he waved her off, his attention fully on Rosie as she made her way over with his order.
“Here you go,” she said, sliding the cup across the counter, her cheeks pink. “One black coffee.”
He smirked, his eyes darkening as he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “You look cute in that apron, doll.”
Her face turned a deeper shade of pink, her fingers fumbling as she adjusted her hair. “I-It’s just my work uniform…”
“Yeah? Then why’s my heart beating faster?” His eyes locked onto hers, his grin widening as she looked like she was about to combust.
“K-Katsuki!” She glanced nervously at the back, making sure Kanako wasn’t watching. “You can’t just… say stuff like that here!”
“Why not?” He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving hers. “S’true.”
Rosie’s eyes widened, her face burning as she bit her lip, trying not to smile. “You’re impossible.”
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You love it.”
She looked away, her shoulders shaking as she tried to hold back a laugh. “Shut up.”
Katsuki watched her, his chest tightening as she smiled, her eyes sparkling. Yeah, she was definitely his girlfriend. He knew they needed to talk, he knew that despite her behavior, she was nervous about what had happened earlier and knew that she was being cautious.
The drive to Rosie’s apartment was quiet, a little too quiet for Katsuki’s liking. Normally, she’d be chattering away about her day or complaining about her homework, but tonight, she was unusually reserved, her head down and her shoulders tense.
Katsuki stole a glance at her, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the way she was chewing on her bottom lip, clearly lost in thought. She hadn’t been the same since this morning in class, and he knew exactly why.
If only that fucking brainwashing quirk user kept his damn mouth shut. Although he wished he could have been there when she rejected the loser.
They reached her apartment, and Rosie unlocked the door, her movements slow and robotic. Maya greeted them with an excited bark, her tail wagging as she bounced around their feet. Rosie managed a small smile, bending down to pet her dog before heading into the kitchen to set her things down.
Katsuki followed, his eyes never leaving her as she busied herself with trivial things—putting her bag away, checking the mail she’d left on the counter, avoiding his gaze.
He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “You gonna tell me what’s got you so worked up, or am I supposed to guess?”
Rosie’s shoulders tensed, her fingers freezing as she shuffled through the mail. “I’m not… worked up.”
“Bullshit.” His voice was firm but not unkind. “You’ve been quiet as a mouse since this morning. Didn’t even yell at me for flirting with you at work.”
Rosie’s face went red, and she turned around, hugging the mail to her chest. “Y-You were being inappropriate!”
“There she is,” Katsuki smirked, his eyes softening as he watched her try to regain her composure. “Now spill it, doll. What’s eatin’ at you?”
She hesitated, her fingers curling around the envelopes. “It’s just… today… my Dad said some things and I know that they bothered you…”
Katsuki’s expression darkened. “Right. Your Dad.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.
Rosie shook her head, her face pale. “He’s always been overprotective, but… not like that.” She looked down, her voice small. “I was so scared that he figured us out.”
Katsuki’s jaw clenched, flinching at the mention of that night. “Yeah. We talked about it after class.” He paused, his eyes darkening. “But it pissed me off, havin’ to listen to you say you had feelings for him.”
Rosie’s eyes widened, guilt washing over her. “I know… I know, and I’m so sorry, Katsuki. I never meant to hurt you. I just… I panicked, and it was the only way I could think of to get my dad off our backs.” Her eyes were shiny, her voice trembling. “I hated lying… especially to you.”
Katsuki let out a sharp breath, his shoulders relaxing. “You have nothing to apologize for.” He took her face in his hands, his thumb gently brushing her cheek. “I knew what I was agreeing to when we decided to keep our relationship a secret. I knew it’d be a pain in the ass, and I agreed to it anyway because you’re worth it.” His eyes softened, his gaze intense. “I was more pissed about hearin’ how your old man only approves of Icy Hot dating you. Like I don’t even exist as an option.”
Rosie’s expression crumpled, her hands clutching his shirt. “I’m sorry… I didn’t even think about how that would make you feel. I just… I didn’t want him to find out about us and ruin everything. I didn’t want to lose you.”
Katsuki’s eyes softened, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that escaped down her cheek. “Hey… none of this is your fault. I get why you did it, and I get why you’re scared. I’m not mad at you, Rosie. Never was.”
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and vulnerable. “Really? You’re not mad?”
He let out a low sigh, his lips pressing against her forehead. “Not at you. Not even at Icy Hot, since he was just covering for you. I was pissed that your dad can’t see that no one could ever take care of you better than me.” His eyes flashed, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. “He thinks I’m not good enough for you… that no one but Icy Hot’s good enough. And that pisses me off.”
Rosie’s face softened, her heart aching at the pain in his voice. “Katsuki…”
His eyes flicked back to hers, his jaw tight. “I know you’re not ashamed of me. I know you want to be with me.”
Her heart twisted, her hands cupping his face as she pulled him down, her forehead resting against his. “You’re more than good enough, Katsuki. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Katsuki’s eyes flickered, his arms tightening around her. “You really mean that?”
She smiled softly, her lips brushing his. “What I feel for you is special.”
His shoulders relaxed, his forehead pressing against hers as he closed his eyes. “Right back at you doll.” Katsuki’s lips twitched, his eyes flicking to her mouth before he looked back into her eyes, his expression softening. “I hate seeing you all worried and guilty like this. Told you, didn’t I? I’m not mad at you.”
Rosie let out a shaky breath, her shoulders slumping as relief washed over her. “I just… I felt terrible for lying. And I hated seeing you so upset… even if you were trying to hide it.”
“Tch. Not hidin’ shit,” Katsuki grumbled, his cheeks tinged pink. “Just didn’t wanna make you feel worse.”
She smiled, warmth blooming in her chest. “You’re a good boyfriend, you know that?”
“Damn right, I am.” His eyes narrowed, a mischievous glint in them. “But clearly, you need some convincing.”
Before she could ask what he meant, Katsuki’s hands gripped her waist, effortlessly lifting her onto the kitchen counter. Rosie squeaked, her hands flying to his shoulders.
“K-Katsuki!” she gasped, her face flaming as he stepped between her legs, his hands on her thighs to keep her in place.
He grinned, his eyes darkening as he leaned in, his mouth brushing her ear. “You’ve been worryin’ too much, dollface. Need to remind you who you belong to.”
Her pretty face flushed. “I-I wasn’t… Katsuki!” Her words were cut off as his lips found her neck, peppering hot, teasing kisses along her skin.
She shivered, her fingers curling into his hair as his mouth moved to her jaw, then her cheek, then finally her lips. His kiss was slow, deliberate, stealing her breath as he pressed himself against her, his hands holding her tight.
Katsuki smirked, enjoying the feel of her clinging to him, her body responding to his touch. When he finally pulled back, she was breathless, her face flushed and her eyes wide.
Leaning forward, his forehead resting against hers as his thumbs gently stroked her thighs. “Feel better now?”
Rosie’s face was bright red, her lips tingling. “Y-You’re insufferable.”
“Damn right.” His grin widened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
Katsuki’s eyes blinked open, the soft glow of the moonlight spilling through the curtains, casting pale ribbons across the bed. He turned over, his movements careful and quiet, not wanting to disturb her.
Rosie lay facing him, her body curled up under the blankets, her face peaceful and relaxed. Her pink hair was a soft mess against the pillow, framing her delicate features, her lips slightly parted as she breathed softly in her sleep.
Katsuki’s chest tightened, his gaze tracing the gentle curve of her cheek, the way her eyelashes fluttered ever so slightly as she dreamed. She looked so damn beautiful, so soft and vulnerable like this, completely at ease in his presence.
He didn’t deserve her.
The thought hit him hard, his fingers curling into the sheets as he watched her, his heart thudding heavily in his chest. Each day, his feelings for her only grew stronger, more intense, more all-consuming. It scared him sometimes, how much he wanted her—needed her. How he’d do anything to protect her, to make her smile, to keep her safe.
She was his. His doll. His girl. His everything.
Katsuki’s throat tightened, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. She shifted slightly at his touch, her nose scrunching adorably before she settled back into her pillow, her lips parting as she breathed out his name.
His heart skipped, his jaw clenching as warmth flooded his chest. Damn it, she was too cute for her own good. Too perfect. Too precious.
He swallowed thickly, his eyes lingering on her peaceful expression before he carefully slid out of bed. But as he moved, her eyes fluttered open, her gaze hazy and unfocused as she blinked up at him.
“Katsuki…? Darling…?” Her voice was soft, laced with sleep as she reached out, her fingers brushing his arm.
Katsuki’s heart squeezed, his eyes softening. He leaned down, his lips pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to her forehead. “Go back to sleep, doll. I’ll be back in a minute.”
She made a sleepy noise, her eyes closing as she let out a soft hum. “Mmkay…”
To his surprise, she curled up into the spot he’d just vacated, nuzzling into his pillow, her body wrapping around the warmth he’d left behind. His pillow looked huge compared to her, her small frame barely making a dent in the mattress. She looked so tiny, so vulnerable, so utterly adorable.
Katsuki’s chest ached, a crooked smile curving his lips as he watched her settle back into sleep, her body curling up like a cat. Damn it, she was too cute. It wasn’t fair.
Shaking his head, Katsuki made his way to the kitchen, his bare feet padding softly against the floor. He grabbed a glass, filling it with water and drinking deeply, his mind still full of her, of the way she looked curled up in his spot, of how she’d whispered his name so sweetly, so trustingly.
She really did trust him completely, didn’t she?
His heart tightened, his grip on the glass tightening. He’d die before he let anything happen to her. He’d protect her, no matter what. No matter who he had to fight or what he had to face.
She was his to protect.
He turned, his eyes drifting to her living room, to the bookshelves lined neatly against the wall. Everything was in its place, just as it always was, but something about it felt… off.
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, his gaze sweeping over the room, lingering on the shadows cast by the moonlight. It was nothing, just his imagination, he was sure. But… he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching him.
His jaw tightened, his instincts prickling as his eyes lingered on the bookshelves. There was nothing there—no cameras, no wires, nothing that should be setting him off. But the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, his muscles tensing as he stared at the rows of neatly organized books.
Something about it was wrong.
He took a step forward, his body coiled like a spring, his senses on high alert. But as he got closer, the feeling faded, the air in the room settling back to normal.
“Tch. Paranoid freak,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. Maybe he was just on edge because of what happened earlier, because of Aizawa and the lies and the way Rosie had looked at him, so damn guilty and sad.
Yeah, that was all it was.
He turned away from the bookshelves, setting the glass in the sink and making his way back to her bedroom. But as he walked away, the feeling of being watched returned, prickling at the back of his neck, sending a cold shiver down his spine.
Katsuki glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing at the bookshelves once more. They stood there, unmoving, innocent. Just books, nothing to be worried about.
He scoffed, shaking his head. He was losing it.
Turning his back on the shelves, Katsuki returned to Rosie’s room, slipping back under the covers beside her. She immediately curled into him, her body seeking his warmth, her face pressing into his chest as she sighed contently.
The tightness in his chest loosened, his arms wrapping around her instinctively, protectively. Whatever weird feeling he’d had, it didn’t matter. Not as long as she was safe, right here in his arms.
Katsuki pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, his eyes drifting closed as he let himself relax, her soft breathing lulling him back to sleep. But in the living room, the shadows shifted, a faint glimmer of light flickering across the shelves before fading into darkness once more.
Notes:
Ahhh this chapter was necessary<3 nothing like a little drama to bring two people together
Chapter 44: Never thought you would be the type to be clingy, doll
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie stirred awake to the soft creak of her bedroom door, her eyes fluttering open as the delicious scent of coffee filled the air. Katsuki stood in the doorway, dressed in his uniform, his hair still damp from his shower, spikes slightly tamed. He held two steaming mugs, his crimson eyes softening as he watched her wake up.
“Morning, doll,” he greeted, his voice low and warm.
Her heart fluttered, a sleepy smile spreading across her face. “Morning, Katsuki…” She sat up, the blanket slipping from her shoulders, revealing his oversized t-shirt draped over her petite frame. She rubbed her eyes, yawning softly as he walked over, handing her one of the mugs.
She took a sip, her eyes closing as the warmth spread through her. “Mmm… perfect as always.”
He chuckled, setting his own mug down on the side table before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Damn right. Only the best for my girl.”
Rosie’s cheeks flushed, her heart skipping as she glanced up at him, her eyes trailing over his uniform. She pouted, realizing what it meant. “You’re working today?”
Katsuki smirked, crossing his arms as he watched her lips puff out in the cutest little pout. “Yeah. . After that, I gotta help those idiots Kaminari and Kirishima study for midterms.”
Rosie’s shoulders sagged, her pout growing deeper. “So you’ll be busy all day…?”
He grunted, his eyes flicking to the clock on her wall. “Pretty much. And since you’re ditching me for girls’ night, I’m headin’ out with the guys after.”
She let out a dramatic whine, setting her coffee down on the side table. “I won’t get to see you at all today!”
Katsuki snorted, his eyes crinkling as he fought back a laugh. “Never thought you would be the type to be clingy, doll” But his voice was warm, his gaze softening as he watched her pout.
Rosie huffed, crossing her arms. “I just… like spending time with you, that’s all.” Her cheeks turned pink, her gaze flicking away in embarrassment.
Katsuki’s chest tightened, his heart giving a hard thud. Damn it, she was too cute. It wasn’t fair. “Yeah, yeah…” He leaned down, capturing her lips in a slow, deep kiss. Her arms instantly wrapped around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer.
His chest rumbled with a pleased growl, his hands finding her waist, his fingers slipping under the hem of his shirt that she wore. Her skin was soft, warm, his hands gliding over her hips as he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping past her lips to taste her.
She whimpered softly, her body pressing against his, her fingers curling tighter in his hair. He smirked against her lips, his grip tightening on her hips as she tugged him down, pulling him on top of her.
His knees sank into the mattress, his weight settling over her as her back hit the bed, her hair fanning out around her. She looked up at him, her eyes half-lidded and glazed with desire, her cheeks flushed pink, her lips swollen from his kisses.
Damn it, she was gorgeous.
He leaned down, his lips trailing from her mouth to her jaw, then down her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse as his fingers traced the delicate lace of her panties, his touch teasing, torturous. She squirmed beneath him, her body arching as a breathy moan escaped her lips.
“Katsuki…”
His name on her lips sent heat surging through him, his self-control fraying as he pressed his hips against hers, letting her feel just how much she affected him. Her eyes widened, her cheeks flushing darker as she bit her lip, her nails scratching lightly at his scalp.
He growled, his lips finding hers once more, his mouth devouring hers hungrily, desperately. She tasted sweet, addictive, his hands roaming her body, feeling every curve, every soft, delicate inch of her.
A soft gasp escaped her as his fingers slid higher, tracing the hem of her shirt, his touch igniting her skin. She was so damn soft, so delicate, so beautiful… he could lose himself in her forever.
But then his alarm blared from his phone, the shrill sound breaking the moment, shattering the haze of heat and desire. Katsuki groaned, his forehead pressing against hers as he fought to catch his breath. “Damn it… I gotta go…”
Rosie pouted, her fingers tightening in his hair. “No fair… Can’t you be a little late?”
His lips curved into a wicked grin, his nose brushing against hers. “Don’t tempt me, doll…” His voice was low, rough, his eyes dark with want. “I already wanna ditch my shift just to spend the day with you.”
Her heart skipped, her body heating under his intense gaze. “Then do it…” she whispered, her voice breathy, her eyes pleading.
He groaned, his muscles tensing as he pulled back, his body screaming at him to stay, to keep touching her, to keep kissing her. However he had been called in since two of his co-workers had called out.
“Don’t make this harder than it already is,” Katsuki muttered, his fingers reluctantly letting go of her hips as he stood up, his muscles screaming at him to stay. But then Rosie’s voice stopped him cold.
“Katsuki,” she purred, her eyes half-lidded as she watched him, her lips curving into a playful smile. “Did I ever tell you how I’ve always found you very attractive in your work uniform?”
His heart skipped, his eyes widening as he turned to look at her. She was sprawled on the bed, wearing his shirt that was riding dangerously high on her thighs, revealing that sinful pink lace he’d been trying to forget all morning.
Fuck.
In an instant, he was on her, his hands grabbing her hips as he yanked her close, his body pressing against hers. “Oh yeah?” he rasped, his voice low and rough as his nose buried in her hair, inhaling her sweet scent. “Why’s that, doll?”
Rosie’s breath hitched, her hands sliding up his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his uniform. “Because…” Her fingers tangled in his collar, pulling him closer as her lips brushed against his ear. “You look so good…curious to see if you look even better in your Hero uniform.”
A deep growl rumbled in his chest, his lips capturing hers in a hungry, possessive kiss. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her body arching against his as his hands roamed her curves, feeling every soft, delicate inch of her.
His fingers slipped under his shirt, his touch igniting her skin as he traced the delicate lace of her panties, his thumbs brushing over her hips. She gasped against his lips, her body shuddering as his hands tightened, pulling her closer, grinding his hips against hers.
A strangled moan escaped her, her legs wrapping around his waist, her body pressing against his as heat surged between them. Katsuki’s head spun, his body burning as he rocked his hips, his mouth devouring hers, tasting her sweetness.
Her nails raked down his back, her breaths coming out in desperate, broken gasps as she moved against him, her body seeking his, her need matching his own. “Katsuki…” she whimpered, her voice breathy, pleading. “I… I need you…”
He cursed under his breath, his self-control crumbling as his lips trailed down her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse. His hands gripped her thighs, his body pressing harder against hers, feeling every curve, every delicious inch of her. She was so soft, so warm, so damn perfect…
Rosie’s body arched, her back curving as she pressed against him, her hips rocking, her soaked panties grinding against his clothed erection as his mouth explored her neck, his tongue tracing her skin, tasting her. She was driving him insane, her voice, her touch, her scent…
“Fuck, Rosie…” he groaned, his body shuddering as he felt her nails dig into his shoulders, her body trembling beneath him, her breaths coming out in desperate little pants. He needed her, right here, right now…
But then his alarm went off, the loud, shrill noise shattering the haze of heat and desire. Katsuki’s body went rigid, his head dropping to her shoulder as he cursed under his breath. “Fucking hell…”
Rosie let out a frustrated whimper, her arms tightening around his neck as she pressed her face into his chest. “No… no, don’t go…” Her voice was soft, pleading, her body clinging to his as her hips moved against him one last time, drawing a low growl from his throat.
He closed his eyes, his body aching, burning with need as he fought to catch his breath. “You’re killin’ me, babydoll” he whispered, his voice rough as his hands reluctantly released her, his body screaming in protest as he pulled away.
Rosie’s face was flushed, her hair a tousled mess, her eyes glazed with desire as she watched him, her lips swollen from his kisses. “You’re really leaving…?” Her voice was soft, vulnerable, her fingers tightening on his shirt.
His heart twisted, his jaw clenching as he forced himself to stand, his body aching, desperate to stay with her. “Yeah… I gotta go…” He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes lingering on her, on the way his shirt had ridden up her thighs, revealing that damn pink lace that drove him crazy. “But if you keep lookin’ at me like that, I ain’t gonna be able to leave.”
She blushed, her fingers brushing over her swollen lips as she looked away, her voice coming out in a soft, embarrassed whisper. “I just… I’ll miss you today.”
Katsuki’s heart clenched, his chest tightening as he leaned down, capturing her lips in one last, lingering kiss. “I’ll miss you too, doll.” His voice was low, rough, his eyes dark as he pulled back, his fingers brushing over her cheek. “But I’ll text you.”
She bit her lip, her eyes shining with longing. “Promise?”
His lips curved into a wicked smirk, his nose brushing against hers. “Promise. And I’ll make up for leavin’ you like this, too.” His eyes darkened, his voice dropping to a low, seductive growl. “Bet on it.”
Rosie’s cheeks flushed, her eyes widening as her heart skipped, her body heating under his intense gaze. “K-Katsuki…”
He straightened, his body screaming at him to stay, to keep touching her, to keep kissing her. But he forced himself to grab his phone and head for the door. As he reached the doorway, he glanced back, his heart skipping as he took in the sight of her lying on the bed, wearing his shirt, her hair a wild, beautiful mess, her cheeks flushed pink, her eyes heavy with desire.
His chest tightened, his grip on the door handle tightening. “Be good, doll. I’ll be back before you know it.”
She smiled, her voice soft as she whispered, “Be safe, Katsuki.”
He nodded, his eyes lingering on her one last time before he tore himself away, his heart aching as he shut the door behind him. Damn it… he really didn’t wanna leave.
Katsuki was on his lunch break with Kirishima at a soba place near both of their workplaces, the familiar scent of freshly made noodles and broth filling the air. He sat back, his arms crossed as he scowled down at his bowl of cold soba, his mind drifting back to that morning, to Rosie’s half lidded eyes and that teasing little smile she gave him before he left. Damn it, he was so distracted he barely tasted the food.
Kirishima watched him, his red eyes narrowing as he took a long slurp of his hot soba. “So, I take it from that grumpy face that things are tense between you and Rosie after yesterday?”
Katsuki snorted, his eyes flicking up in annoyance. “I was never upset with her. I’m fine now,” he muttered, stabbing at his noodles with his chopsticks. “I just didn’t wanna leave her this morning.”
Kirishima’s face split into a wide, knowing grin, his eyebrows wiggling as he leaned forward. “Oh ho! So you’re already staying at her place, huh?”
Katsuki rolled his eyes, leaning back in the booth, his arms crossing over his chest. “Not like that, shitty hair. I just stayed the night.”
Kirishima’s grin grew wider, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You mean to tell me you’ve been staying over at your super cute girlfriend’s place and you two haven’t… y’know?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, his elbow nudging Katsuki’s side.
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed dangerously, his jaw clenching as his grip on his chopsticks tightened. “Not like it’s your business, but no. We haven’t.”
Kirishima let out a low whistle, leaning back with a look of pure amusement. “You’re so fucking whipped, man.”
“Drop it,” Katsuki growled, his eyes flashing.
“Hell no!” Kirishima’s laugh was loud, his shoulders shaking as he pointed a finger at his best friend. “You’ve given me shit for being whipped since I started having feelings for Mina back in second year! I’ve got years of payback to make up for.”
Katsuki’s eyes twitched, his scowl deepening as he looked away, his cheeks tinged with a faint pink. “Tch. Whatever, asshole.” He shoved another bite of soba into his mouth, chewing aggressively to distract himself from the heat creeping up his neck.
Kirishima continued to grin, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “Seriously though, man… you’ve got it bad. I’ve never seen you like this before. It’s weird, but like, a good weird.” His expression softened, his eyes warm with genuine affection. “I’m happy for you, man. She’s good for you.”
Katsuki paused, his eyes dropping to his bowl as his scowl softened. “Yeah… she is.” His voice was low, almost vulnerable, before he quickly cleared his throat, his tough demeanor snapping back into place. “Anyway, what are the plans for tonight?”
Kirishima leaned back, his hands behind his head as he grinned. “After our study session with Kaminari, we’re heading to this new club a friend of Mina’s is opening. It’s opening night, but it’s like, a soft opening just for friends to test things out before they open to the public. Exclusive invite.”
Katsuki’s nose wrinkled, his expression unimpressed. “A club, huh? Not really my scene.”
Kirishima shrugged, his grin widening. “C’mon, man, it’ll be fun. Besides, Rosie’s going out with the girls tonight, right? You’ll be bored outta your mind if you stay home alone.”
Katsuki’s scowl deepened, his chest tightening at the thought of not seeing her all day. Damn it… he really didn’t wanna spend the night without her. But he knew she was excited about her girls’ night, and he wasn’t about to get in the way of that.
“Yeah, fine. I’ll go,” he grumbled, his voice heavy with reluctant acceptance. “Might as well if she’s out.”
Kirishima beamed, clapping his hands together. “Awesome! It’ll be great, man. We’ll blow off some steam, relax, and maybe you’ll even enjoy yourself.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes, his lips twitching in the faintest hint of a smirk. “Doubt it, but whatever.”
Kirishima laughed, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Oh, before I forget… you’re still going to that quirk checkup Monday, right?”
Katsuki nodded, his expression shifting to something more serious. “Yeah. Figured it was time to get checked out, see if I’m ready to get back out there.”
Kirishima’s face softened, his eyes turning thoughtful. “Yeah… feels like it’s been forever since we went all out, huh?”
After the war ended, the entire staff of U.A. and the Hero Public Safety Commission had agreed to let them have a shot at normal civilian life until graduation. A lot of students had taken up sidekick jobs right after high school, but Class 1-A and Class 2-B had mostly agreed to go to college first, waiting a bit longer before fully stepping into the world of Pro Heroes.
But now that they were in their second year of college, the itch to get back into hero work was getting stronger. Most of them were eager to jump back in, even if just part-time. And with the Hero Public Safety Commission, now led by Hawks, organizing private quirk checkups to assess their readiness, the timing couldn’t have been better.
Kirishima leaned back, his eyes glimmering with anticipation. “I’ve missed it, man. Missed goin’ all out, pushin’ past my limits. It’ll be nice to see how much we’ve grown.”
Katsuki’s lips curved into a fierce grin, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “Hell yeah. I’ve been waitin’ for this. Can’t wait to blow those evaluators away.”
Kirishima laughed, his eyes sparkling. “Damn right! We’re gonna crush it, man!” He lifted his glass of water, a challenging smirk on his lips. “To gettin’ back out there and showin’ the world who’s boss!”
Katsuki clinked his glass against Kirishima’s, his grin widening. “Damn straight.”
As they finished their lunch, Katsuki’s thoughts drifted back to Rosie, to the way she looked this morning all curled up in his shirt, her lips swollen and red from them making out. His chest tightened, his heart aching with the longing to go back to her, to hold her again.
But for now, he’d focus on the day ahead, on hangin’ out with the guys, and on countin’ down the minutes ‘til he could see her again. ‘Cause even though he was excited to get back into hero work, Rosie was his world now, and no amount of action or adrenaline could ever compare to the way his heart raced when he was with her.
Just as Katsuki was leaving the restaurant with Kirishima, his phone buzzed in his pocket, the familiar ringtone cutting through the noise of the street. He fished it out, glancing at the screen. Only three people ever called him. It wasn’t his mom, and Shitty Hair was standing right next to him, which could only mean one other person.
His heart gave an involuntary jolt as Babydoll appeared on his screen, accompanied by his favorite photo of Rosie. It was a candid shot of her in that short little pink dress with delicate white lace, the one that hugged her figure just right. Her side profile was captured perfectly, her head tilted toward him, her hair tied up in a messy bun that bared her neck—smooth and inviting. She was smiling at him, wearing that strawberry lip gloss he could never resist, the same one that always lingered on his lips after he kissed her. Damn it, just seeing that picture made his chest tighten.
His fingers moved on their own, swiping the screen as he brought the phone to his ear. “Hey, Babydoll,” he greeted, his voice dropping to that lower, more relaxed tone he always used with her.
He heard the soft gasp on the other end, followed by a small, embarrassed laugh. God, he could practically picture her face turning that pretty shade of pink he loved so much. “H-Hi, Katsuki,” she stammered, her voice high and sweet, soft and delicate like sugar melting on his tongue. It was ridiculous how cute she sounded over the phone.
His chest tightened, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile. “What’s up? Missin’ me already?” he teased, his tone light and playful, but there was an underlying warmth, a fondness he couldn’t hide even if he tried.
There was a tiny pause, followed by a small, breathy huff. “Maybe…” she admitted softly, her voice dropping to a shy murmur that made his heart skip a beat. “I just… wanted to check up on you. See how your day was going… I know you’re busy and all, but…”
Her voice trailed off, hesitant and a little embarrassed, but there was this tenderness there that made his chest ache. She missed him. She actually called just because she missed him. His fingers tightened around his phone, his gaze dropping to the pavement as he tried to fight the stupid grin threatening to take over his face.
Kirishima’s curious eyes were on him, a knowing smirk forming as he watched his best friend’s face soften. Katsuki turned his back on him, his shoulders hunching as he cleared his throat, his voice dropping even lower. “Work’s fine. Nothin’ I can’t handle.” He paused, his voice growing softer, more sincere. “You doin’ okay?”
He heard her exhale, a soft, airy sound that made his chest tighten all over again. “Yeah, I’m okay… Just been thinking about you…”
His heart thudded, his jaw clenching as he tried to keep his voice steady. “Yeah… tell me about it.” He hated how vulnerable he sounded, but it was true. His eyes softened, his lips curving into a faint smile. “I’ll be off work at three.”
Her voice perked up, a little more cheerful. “Okay… I’m about to finish buying groceries but… I still wanna hear from you. Even if you’re busy.”
He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Yeah, yeah… Whatever you want, Princess.”
There was a pause, followed by a soft giggle that sent warmth flooding through him. “You’re sweet, Katsuki.”
“Tch… Don’t start that mushy shit now,” he muttered, his ears burning. “I’m at work.”
She laughed, her voice like music, light and playful. “Okay, okay… I’ll let you get back to it.”
His eyes softened, his grip on the phone tightening. “Yeah… I will. Text me when you get home. Wanna make sure you’re home safe too.”
She hummed, the sound sweet and affectionate. “I will. I promise.”
“Good.” He hesitated, his mouth opening and closing before he finally muttered, “...Miss you, Babydoll.”
Her breath caught, and he could almost see her eyes widening in surprise, her cheeks flushing pink. “I… I miss you too, Katsuki.”
His chest tightened, a warmth spreading through him that made him feel almost dizzy. Damn it… How did she always do this to him? He cleared his throat, his voice gruffer than before. “Yeah… I’ll text ya later.”
“Okay… Bye, Katsuki.” Her voice was so soft, so sweet, he almost didn’t want to hang up.
“Yeah… bye pretty girl.” He hung up, his fingers lingering on the phone as he stared at her picture on the screen. His chest felt heavy, his heart pounding as he let out a shaky breath. Damn it… He was so far gone.
Kirishima’s laughter snapped him out of his daze. “Man, you are so whipped!”
Katsuki’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as he turned to glare at his best friend. “Shut the hell up, Shitty Hair,” he growled, his face burning as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. “Let’s go before I decide to kill you.”
Kirishima just laughed, his shoulders shaking as he threw his arm around Katsuki’s shoulders. “Yeah, yeah… Whatever you say, man. But man, I never thought I’d see the day where the Great Katsuki Bakugou was so head over heels for a woman.”
Katsuki’s face went red, his fist clenching as he fought the urge to blow him up right then and there. “I swear to god, Kirishima—”
Kirishima just grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “C’mon, lover boy. Let’s get back to work.”
Katsuki growled, shoving him off as they started walking down the street, his mind still stuck on the sound of her voice, the way she sounded so soft, so sweet when she called him by his name. Damn it… he couldn’t wait to see her again.
Notes:
go follow me on Tumblr, I finally properly set up my account a week ago<3 its ValentineHeart14!
Chapter 45: Don’t say another man’s name when your panties are soaked.
Chapter Text
Freshly groomed and looking absolutely adorable, Maya pranced through the doorway, her tiny paws tapping against the hardwood floor as she ran past Rosie’s legs. The little poodle’s fur was perfectly trimmed into a cute, fluffy cut, her ears bouncing with each step. A bright pink bow sat atop her head, perfectly centered, while a matching pink bandana was tied neatly around her neck. She looked like she had just stepped out of a doggy fashion magazine.
Rosie couldn’t help but smile, her heart melting at the sight of her pup looking so cute. “Aww, look at you, Maya! You’re so pretty!” she cooed, her voice soft and affectionate. Maya’s tail wagged rapidly at the praise, her big brown eyes sparkling with joy as she trotted around the living room, showing off her fresh look.
Juggling the grocery bags in her arms, Rosie closed the door with her foot, letting out a small huff as she made her way to the kitchen. She set the bags down on the island, rubbing her arms with a sigh of relief before moving to lock the front door.
She glanced around her apartment, mentally going over everything she needed to do before tonight. It was going to be a busy evening—Mina and the girls were coming over for a sleepover, and she wanted everything to be perfect.
Humming to herself, she began to put the groceries away, organizing the fridge with all the snacks and drinks they would need. She had spent her entire morning studying and doing homework, then took Maya to her grooming appointment, followed by a grocery run before finally picking Maya up. There was still so much left to do—laundry, cleaning, and hiding away Katsuki’s things.
Her eyes wandered to his charger on the nightstand, his spare clothes neatly folded in the corner of her closet, and his toiletries tucked away in her bathroom cabinet. It wasn’t much, but she always made sure to keep his things hidden whenever her father visited or when the girls came over. She didn’t want to deal with the teasing—or the questions.
Letting out a sigh, Rosie picked up his clothes and folded them carefully before placing them in a small box. She added his charger and toiletries, her fingers lingering on his cologne bottle for a moment. It was the one she loved, the scent she always found herself buried in whenever he held her close. Her heart gave a tiny flutter, and she quickly shook her head, closing the box and placing it on the top shelf of her closet. She’d take it back out once the girls were gone tomorrow morning.
After tidying up her room, she moved on to cleaning the rest of the apartment. She vacuumed the living room, wiped down the counters, and fluffed the pillows on her couch. Maya followed her around, her pink bow bobbing as she trotted happily at her heels, completely oblivious to the chaos of Rosie’s to-do list.
Once everything was spotless, Rosie finally took a moment to catch her breath, leaning against the kitchen island as she glanced at the clock. Mina had planned some sort of surprise for them tonight, and she was supposed to dress up for it. Rosie had no idea what it was, but her curiosity was killing her.
She headed to her bedroom, pulling off her sweats and tossing them into the laundry basket before slipping into a white dress with delicate pink lace along the hem and neckline. It was soft and light, the fabric flowing around her as she twirled in front of the mirror. It was pretty, cute, and girly—perfect for whatever Mina had planned.
As she adjusted the straps, there was a sudden knock on her door. She frowned, glancing at the clock again. It was too early for the girls to be here, and she wasn’t expecting any packages.
Confused, she made her way to the front door, her bare feet padding softly against the floor. She opened the door, her eyes widening as she was met with the sight of Katsuki standing there, panting heavily, his shoulders rising and falling as he caught his breath. He was still in his work uniform, his hair disheveled, sweat glistening on his brow as his chest heaved.
“Katsuki?” she blinked, shock evident in her voice. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
His crimson eyes locked onto hers, intense and burning with something she couldn’t quite place. Without a word, he stepped forward, his hands cupping her face as he crashed his lips against hers. Her gasp was swallowed by his mouth, her body stumbling backward as he kicked the door shut behind him, his strong arms wrapping around her waist as he lifted her off the ground.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, her heart pounding as he carried her into the apartment, his lips never leaving hers. She could barely think, her mind swirling as he held her close, his body firm and warm against hers.
He didn’t stop until her back hit the wall, his lips moving feverishly against hers as he let out a low, guttural growl. “I had… to come see you,” he panted, his voice rough, strained, like he had been holding back all day.
Her eyes widened, her hands clutching his shoulders as she tried to catch her breath. “Katsuki… what—”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted, his voice raw, his forehead pressing against hers. “I was tryin’ to focus, tryin’ to do my damn job, but all I could see was you. This morning… you looked so fuckin’ beautiful, I couldn’t get you out of my head.”
Her heart skipped, her cheeks flushing as his words sank in. “I… I missed you too…” she whispered, her fingers curling into his uniform as she leaned up, pressing her lips to his in a soft, tender kiss.
He responded immediately, his arms tightening around her as his lips moved against hers, desperate, hungry, like he couldn’t get enough. She could feel his heart pounding against her chest, his breath hot and heavy as he kissed her like he was afraid she would disappear if he let go.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, his hands gripping her thighs as he pressed her further into the wall, his body molding perfectly against hers. Her dress rode up her legs, the soft lace brushing against his fingers as he held her close, his lips leaving hers to trail down her neck, his teeth nipping at her skin as she gasped his name.
“Katsuki…”
His name fell from her lips like a prayer, her voice trembling as his mouth found her collarbone, his teeth scraping lightly before he soothed the mark with his tongue. Her fingers tightened in his hair, her head falling back as he continued his assault, his hands roaming her body, touching, exploring, memorizing every curve, every dip.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, the loud vibration echoing through the room. He ignored it, his lips refusing to leave her skin as he growled in frustration. But then, it buzzed again, and then a third time, more persistent, more annoying.
He cursed under his breath, his forehead pressing against her shoulder as he reluctantly pulled away, his chest heaving as he reached for his phone. The screen flashed with an incoming call, Kirishima’s name glaring at him.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his jaw clenching as he fought the urge to throw his phone across the room. Why now? Why the hell did it have to be now?
“Please…” Her voice was so soft, so vulnerable, it sent a shiver down his spine. “Don’t stop again… I need to feel you against me… please…”
His heart stopped, his eyes widening as he looked down at her. Rosie’s eyes were half-lidded, her lips swollen and parted, her cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of pink. Her fingers curled into his shirt, her body arching towards him, her thighs tightening around his hips as she held him in place. She was looking up at him with such raw need, such desperate longing that it made his chest ache.
His resolve crumbled, his fingers trembling as he cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her soft cheek. “Doll… You have no idea what you’re doin’ to me…” he rasped, his voice low and rough, his eyes darkening as he took her in—all of her, all of this.
She bit her lip, her eyes shimmering with tears of frustration. “You got me all worked up this morning… And now again…” Her voice broke, her body trembling beneath him. “It’s not fair… I don’t want you to stop… Not this time…”
His heart twisted, his chest tightening as he saw the way she was looking at him, her eyes pleading, her hands clutching at him as if she was afraid he’d disappear. Her hips rolled up against his, her body seeking his warmth, his touch, his everything. “Katsuki… Please…”
His breath hitched, his restraint snapping as her voice wrapped around him, soft and needy and driving him absolutely insane. “Fuck…” he growled, his hands tightening on her hips, his fingers digging into her soft skin. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Babydoll…”
He leaned down, his lips capturing hers in a searing, desperate kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth as he swallowed her whimper, her body arching up to meet his. He could feel her heart racing against his chest, her fingers tangling in his hair, her legs tightening around his waist as she pulled him closer, closer, like she couldn’t stand even an inch of space between them.
His phone buzzed again, vibrating against his leg, and he snarled, tearing his mouth away from hers as he glared at the screen. Kirishima. Again. Of all the fucking times…
“Don’t… don’t answer it…” Rosie whimpered, her voice trembling as her nails dug into his shoulders. “Please… Just stay… Just a little longer…”
His heart shattered, his fingers trembling as he cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her swollen lips, her tear-filled eyes. God, he couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand seeing her like this, so vulnerable, so desperate for him. How the hell was he supposed to leave her now?
But the phone kept buzzing, persistent and unrelenting. “Fuck…” he hissed, his jaw clenching as he pressed his forehead against hers, his heart breaking as he whispered, “I don’t wanna go… I don’t… But if I don’t answer, that dumbass’ll come lookin’ for me…”
She sniffled, her eyes squeezing shut as she tried to hold back her tears. “Kat…” she choked out, her fingers curling into his shirt.
Katsuki’s fingers dug into her thighs as he held her up effortlessly, his other hand gripping his phone as he answered the call, his voice sharp and low. “Call me one more time, and I’ll fucking kill you, shitty hair.” Without waiting for a response, he hung up, the phone falling to the floor with a dull thud. His crimson eyes were dark, his gaze locked on Rosie’s flushed face as he kicked off his shoes, his hat tumbling off his head as he marched toward her bedroom.
“Don’t you have to meet him for that study session with Kaminari and Kirishima?” Rosie asked breathlessly, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a dangerous smirk. “Don’t say another man’s name when your panties are soaked.” His voice was rough, low, sending a shiver down her spine as he pushed open her bedroom door.
A squeak escaped her lips as he tossed her onto the bed, her body bouncing slightly against the plush mattress. Her hair fanned out beneath her, her cheeks flushed as she looked up at him, her eyes wide and vulnerable. But that playful, defiant spark was still there, the same look that drove him absolutely insane.
His eyes trailed over her body, taking in the way her dress had ridden up her thighs, the lace of her white panties peeking out, taunting him. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he shrugged off his jacket, his movements deliberate, slow. Her eyes followed his every move, her lips parted as her breath hitched, her body squirming on the bed as she watched him.
“Katsuki…” She whispered, her voice soft, needy.
His eyes darkened, his hands reaching for his belt as he leaned over her, his body caging hers in, his nose brushing against hers. “I had to see you,” he murmured, his voice raw, honest. “I couldn’t focus. Couldn’t think straight.” His lips captured hers, his mouth hot and demanding, his tongue sweeping over her bottom lip as his hands gripped her waist, pulling her against him.
Rosie moaned against his lips, her fingers tangling in his hair, her body arching into his as she felt the heat of his skin, the hard lines of his muscles pressing into her. He growled, his hands sliding under her dress, his fingers brushing over her soft skin as he moved his mouth to her neck, nipping at her sensitive spots.
Her hands slid down his back, feeling the tension in his muscles, the heat radiating off him as she wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him close. “Katsuki…” she breathed, her voice trembling. “Don’t… don’t stop again.”
His eyes flicked up to hers, his pupils blown wide with desire as he took in the sight of her, vulnerable and needy beneath him. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, Babydoll,” he promised, his voice low and rough as his hands gripped her hips, his mouth crashing down on hers once more. “Not this time.”
His name left her lips in a broken whisper, her nails digging into his shoulders as he pressed her deeper into the mattress, his body molding to hers perfectly, as if she were made just for him. Every curve, every arch of her body seemed to fit against him, driving him absolutely wild.
A soft, desperate whimper escaped her as she rolled her hips up against him, her soaked panties dragging against the hard length of his bulge. The friction sent a jolt of pleasure through her, her head falling back as she cried out, her back arching off the bed. Katsuki’s grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he ground himself against her, a guttural growl escaping his throat.
“Fuck… Babydoll…” His voice was rough, strained as he buried his face in her neck, his lips brushing against her skin as his hips moved against hers, slow and deliberate. The sensation of his hard cock pressing against her clit through the thin fabric of her soaked panties was driving her insane, her thighs trembling as she moved in sync with him, her body seeking more, needing more.
Her hands slid under his shirt, her fingers splaying across his back, feeling the taut muscles shift beneath her touch as he rocked his hips against her, his breathing ragged in her ear. “Katsuki… please…” She gasped, her nails digging into his skin as she rolled her hips harder, her body shuddering as another wave of pleasure hit her.
He groaned, his teeth grazing her earlobe as he thrust against her, his cock twitching as he felt her grinding against him, her heat soaking through his pants. “You’re so fucking pretty…” he growled, his voice raw as his hand slid down her thigh, gripping her leg and hooking it around his waist. “So fuckin’ perfect…”
Rosie whimpered, her hips bucking against his as she felt the tension building, her body coiling tighter and tighter as he continued to move against her, his bulge rubbing perfectly against her swollen clit. Her cries grew louder, her head tossing back as her body arched into his, her mind going blank as the pleasure overwhelmed her. “Katsuki… I’m… I’m gonna…”
“Yeah… that’s it, Babydoll…” he rasped, his voice low and rough as his hips snapped against hers, his cock throbbing as he felt her fall apart beneath him, her body trembling as she cried out his name, her nails scratching down his back. He followed her over the edge, his body tensing as he groaned, his hips grinding against hers as he shuddered, his release soaking through his pants.
They stayed like that, tangled together, their bodies still pressed tightly against each other as they caught their breath. Katsuki’s forehead rested against hers, his eyes half-lidded as he looked down at her, his thumb brushing over her flushed cheek. “You were so fuckin’ good…” he murmured, his voice soft as he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a tender, lingering kiss. “So damn perfect for me…”
Rosie’s cheeks flushed even darker, her heart pounding as his words sank in, her body melting beneath him as his fingers stroked her hair, his lips pressing gentle kisses along her jaw. “K-Katsuki…” she whispered, her voice trembling as she looked up at him, her eyes shining with adoration.
He smirked, his thumb brushing over her swollen lips as he whispered, “My perfect girl… always so damn good for me…” His lips captured hers once more, his body pressing against hers as he kissed her deeply, possessively, his heart thundering in his chest as he realized just how much he needed her… how much he craved her… and how he could never get enough of her.
“That felt good…” she murmured against his lips.
Katsuki rolled them over to where she straddled him, sitting up, flushed and intoxicatingly beautiful as her hands rested against his chest. “Such a good girl for me,” he gazed at her, how soft, pliant, and adorable she was.
Katsuki’s lips were still on hers, his hands possessively gripping her hips when he heard his phone ringing. At first, he ignored it, his tongue flicking over her bottom lip, savoring her sweet taste. But the ringing grew louder, more insistent.
They both paused, turning their heads toward the door just in time to see Maya prancing in, her little pink bow bouncing with every step as she trotted over to the bed, Katsuki’s phone clenched between her teeth. She hopped onto the mattress, her fluffy tail wagging excitedly as she dropped the phone in front of him, her eyes gleaming with pride.
Rosie’s lips curved into an adoring smile, her eyes sparkling with affection as she cooed, “Good girl, Maya.”
Katsuki couldn’t help but chuckle, reaching out to ruffle Maya’s freshly groomed fur. “You’re too damn smart for your own good, cotton swab.” Maya leaned into his touch, her tail wagging even faster as she basked in his praise.
His gaze dropped to his phone screen, his smirk fading as he saw Old Hag flashing. His jaw clenched, a groan escaping his lips. “Shit… It’s my mom.”
He felt Rosie tense above him, her fingers curling against his chest as her cheeks flushed. “You have to go,” she whispered, her voice soft, disappointed.
His chest tightened, his fingers tightening on her hips as he looked up at her, her hair a beautiful mess, her lips swollen from his kisses, her eyes heavy with longing. Damn it… he didn’t want to leave.
“Thank you for making me feel good,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she began to slide off of him.
His grip on her hips tightened, his body moving on instinct as he sat up, his lips capturing hers once more, fierce and possessive. “I’m not done with you yet,” he growled against her mouth, his fingers digging into her soft curves. “The girls are staying the night, yeah?”
Rosie’s eyes widened, a shiver running down her spine at his intensity. “Y-Yes…” she stammered, her heart racing.
His lips curved into a wicked grin, his eyes darkening with promise. “I’ll see you tomorrow, as soon as they’re gone.”
She giggled, her fingers tracing his jawline as she shook her head. “No can do, mister.”
His eyes narrowed, his grip on her tightening. “Why not?”
“I’m having brunch with Uncle Mic and my Dad.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “We’ll be having a nice long talk.”
Katsuki’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as he let out a frustrated groan, his head falling against her shoulder. “You’re fucking evil, Babydoll.”
Her laugh was soft, musical, her fingers playing with his hair as she pressed a gentle kiss to his temple. “Am I?”
He grumbled under his breath, his fingers slipping under her shirt to squeeze her waist, making her squeal. “Yes.” He pressed his lips to hers one last time, his voice a low whisper. “You better miss me, Babydoll.”
Her eyes softened, her smile tender as she whispered, “Always.”
After Katsuki had left, the girls arrived at her house with their bags. Rosie watched as all the girls placed their bags in her room. She followed them into her bedroom, making sure there was nothing of Katsuki’s here and instead leaned against the door way.
“I’m going to pour wine,” Rosie said. “Does anyone else want wine?”
All their hands shot up, Mina smiled. “Let me help you!”
Rosie moved to her kitchen, Mina right behind her as they began pulling wine glasses from the cabinet. Rosie hummed softly, setting the glasses on the counter while Mina uncorked the wine bottle, pouring the deep red liquid into each glass, careful not to spill. The light, fruity scent filled the room, mingling with the comforting aroma of Rosie’s apartment.
As they worked, Mina glanced at Rosie, her expression softening. “Hey, um… about yesterday,” she began, her voice hesitant. “I didn’t mean to come off as annoying or intrusive. I just got excited, and sometimes I don’t realize when I’m prying too much. Kiri tells me that I can be a bit… much.” She let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. “I just didn’t want you to think I was trying to be nosy or anything.”
Rosie looked up, her eyes wide in surprise before softening. “It’s okay, Mina. Really.” She handed her a filled glass, a gentle smile playing on her lips. “I would be curious too. I’ve never been great at being around other people, and… well, having people actually interested in me or what I have to say is a bit overwhelming. But I appreciate your apology.”
Mina’s eyes shimmered as she set down the bottle and wrapped her arms around Rosie, hugging her tightly. “You’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, Rosie.” She pulled back, her smile warm and genuine. “I won’t pry about whatever’s going on between you and Katsuki—not unless you’re willing to talk about it yourself. Just know that I’m here for you, no matter what.”
Rosie’s heart swelled at the sincerity in Mina’s voice. She hugged her back, her grip soft but grateful. “Thank you, Mina. That means a lot.”
Mina pulled away, her eyes shining with mischief as she winked. “Besides, it’s clear he’s head over heels for you. Even Kiri thinks so.”
Rosie’s cheeks flushed, her laughter light and airy as she shook her head. “Don’t tease me.”
Just then, the rest of the girls poured into the kitchen, laughter echoing through the hallway as Ochaco entered with Maya in her arms, the little poodle’s pink bow bouncing with every wiggle of excitement.
“Aww, look at you, Maya! You’re such a princess!” Ochaco cooed, cuddling the small dog who was soaking up all the attention, her tail wagging furiously.
Momo set a bag on the counter, a playful smirk on her lips. “I brought over this movie about a gangster and a girl falling in love over the course of a year. Thought it would be perfect for tonight.”
“Oh, that sounds so good!” Jirou exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she reached for a glass of wine. “I love a good romance.”
“Especially one with a bad boy,” Mina teased, wiggling her brows.
Rosie giggled, her heart feeling lighter as she handed out the rest of the glasses. “Alright, let’s get comfortable, then.”
With wine glasses in hand, they moved into the living room, the soft glow of the evening sun casting a warm hue over the space. They settled onto the couch and loveseats, cozying up under fluffy blankets as Maya jumped from lap to lap, soaking up all the love and attention.
Rosie curled up at one end of the couch, a blanket wrapped around her as she sipped her wine, her friends’ laughter and playful teasing filled the air as the gangster kidnapped the girl and she pointed a gun at him.
Rosie sank deeper into the couch, a soft smile playing on her lips as she took another sip of her wine. The movie playing on the screen was predictable, the plotline weak and full of clichés, but the actor playing the gangster was undeniably hot. His sharp jawline, intense gaze, and the way he moved… yeah, she could forgive the cringey dialogue for that. Not to mention the sizzling tension and the steamy scenes that had all of them leaning forward, eyes glued to the screen.
She glanced around the room, her heart warm as she took in the sight of her friends sprawled across her living room. Mina was lounging on the floor, her head propped up on her hands, eyes wide as she watched the screen with rapt attention. Jirou was sitting cross-legged on the armchair, her head bobbing to the music playing in the background. Toru was curled up on the other end of the couch, her sleeves waving excitedly every time something dramatic happened.
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, and she picked it up, her heart fluttering as she saw Katsuki’s name.
Rosie: The girls and I are watching a movie. How is the studying going?
Pomchi: Think I might lose my shit as they’re struggling to pay attention.
She giggled softly, her fingers flying over the screen to reply, but she looked up just as the movie’s credits began to roll.
“On a cliffhanger?? Seriously??” Toru’s sleeves waved frantically, her invisible figure clearly frustrated. “That is such a bummer!”
Jirou groaned, slumping back in the chair. “Ugh, I knew it. They’re setting up for a sequel.”
Mina pouted, crossing her arms. “But we have to wait another year for that! I need to know what happens between them!”
Rosie couldn’t help but laugh, setting her phone aside. “Yeah, but the tension was so good. And that actor…” She fanned herself dramatically, causing the others to burst into laughter.
Mina’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she sat up. “Alright, enough drooling over the gangster. Who’s up for some dancing?”
Jirou’s eyes lit up, her grin wide. “Oh, hell yeah!”
Rosie’s heart raced with excitement as she jumped up, moving to push the coffee table out of the way. “I’ll set up the dancing game!”
Within minutes, the room was transformed. Furniture pushed aside, lights dimmed, and the game was on the TV screen, blasting energetic pop music. The girls stood side by side, ready to follow the virtual dancers’ moves each having a controller in their hand.
The first song began, the beat pumping through the speakers as they moved in sync, their laughter echoing throughout the apartment. Mina spun around, her hips swaying as she sang along, her voice off-key but full of enthusiasm. Jirou nailed the moves effortlessly, her rhythm impeccable. Toru’s sleeves waved wildly as she jumped around, her energy contagious.
Rosie was out of breath, her cheeks flushed as she stumbled through the steps, laughing as she accidentally bumped into Mina. “Sorry!”
Mina just grinned, bumping her back. “You’re so cute when you’re uncoordinated!”
They played song after song, their laughter ringing out as they stumbled through the choreography, occasionally bumping into each other and collapsing into giggles. Rosie’s heart felt light, her worries melting away as she danced with her best friends, her body moving to the beat, her smile never fading.
After the fourth song, they collapsed onto the couch, panting and laughing, their faces flushed and hair a mess. Mina was fanning herself, her eyes sparkling as she looked at the time on her phone. Her eyes widened, and she jumped up, clapping her hands. “It’s seven! Time to go to the surprise!”
Rosie blinked, sitting up as she brushed her hair out of her face. “Surprise? What surprise?”
Mina grinned, grabbing her purse. “You’ll see! Let’s go!”
Rosie’s curiosity was piqued as she quickly grabbed her keys, locking up her apartment before following Mina and the others outside. They piled into Mina’s car, while Jirou and Toru headed to Jirou’s car, waving before pulling out of the parking lot.
The drive was filled with chatter and laughter, Mina playing upbeat music as they made their way through the city streets. Rosie watched the buildings pass by, her heart fluttering with excitement as she wondered where Mina was taking them.
Her eyes widened as they pulled into the underground tunnels, a familiar place she recognized instantly. “Wait… isn’t this where we saw the band play a few weeks ago?”
Mina’s grin was mischievous as she nodded before parking. They all piled out of the car, they walked through the crowded tunnels after meeting up with Jirou and Toru as they passed the nightclub where their friend’s band had performed. “Yup! But we’re going somewhere even better tonight.”
Rosie’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as they continued deeper into the tunnels, passing the familiar nightclub and heading towards a spot further down. She could hear faint music echoing through the underground, the bass vibrating through the car.
They finally stopped in front of a sleek building with neon lights, the name glowing above the entrance. Rosie’s jaw dropped as she took in the bustling crowd, the line of people waiting to get in. “What is this place?”
Mina’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “It’s a new club that a friend of mine opened! I did my internship with her, and she’s having an exclusive opening night just for friends to test it out before it opens to the public next weekend.”
Rosie’s heart raced, her eyes wide with wonder as she took in the vibrant atmosphere of the nightclub. The music thumped through the walls, the bass vibrating beneath her feet as colorful lights danced above. The air was electric, the buzz of excitement contagious as people laughed and danced, their faces glowing under the neon lights.
“Mina… this is amazing!” Rosie exclaimed, her voice full of awe as she turned to her friend.
Mina grinned, looping her arm through Rosie’s. “I know, right? I couldn’t wait to show you guys! C’mon, let’s go have some fun!”
Together, they joined Jirou and Toru, their laughter echoing as they made their way towards the entrance. The bouncer took one look at Mina and grinned, immediately letting them in. Rosie’s eyes widened even further as they stepped inside, her jaw dropping at the sight before her.
The nightclub was massive, two stories high with a grand staircase that wrapped around the sides, leading up to a balcony that overlooked the dance floor below. The walls were lined with plush velvet booths, the tables lit with vintage lamps that gave off a warm, golden glow. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting sparkling light across the room.
“This… this looks like a speakeasy,” Momo breathed, her eyes wide as she took in the elegant decor, the art deco designs on the walls and the gold accents that gleamed under the lights.
“I wanted to capture that roaring twenties vibe that those Americans created,” came a sultry voice. The girls turned to see a tall, curvaceous woman approaching them, her hips swaying as she walked. Her long black hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, her dark eyes lined with kohl. She wore a sheer black dress that clung to her figure, showing off her curves and leaving little to the imagination. A slit ran up one leg, revealing smooth, toned skin as she moved.
“Mina!” the woman greeted, her red lips curving into a seductive smile. She opened her arms, and Mina eagerly hugged her. “I’m so glad you could make it!”
Mina pulled back, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world! Ladies, this is Miyaki, the owner of the club. Miyaki, these are my girls—Rosie, Momo, Jirou, Toru, Tsui, and Ochaco!”
Miyaki’s eyes gleamed as she looked them over, her smile widening. “Well, well… aren’t you all just adorable? It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Her gaze lingered on Rosie, taking in her bright eyes and the way her pink lace dress hugged her curves. “Especially you, sweetheart.”
Rosie’s cheeks flushed, a shy smile spreading across her lips. “T-Thank you…”
Miyaki’s expression softened as she glanced over the group. “So… which of you girls are going to be participating?”
“Participating?” Rosie tilted her head, confusion flickering across her face. “Participating in what?”
Miyaki sighed dramatically, her shoulders slumping. “I was supposed to have my burlesque dancers tonight, but they all got food poisoning. I was hoping you lovely ladies would help me out and fill in for them.”
Rosie’s eyes widened, her excitement bubbling over. “Burlesque? Like the glamorous, vintage dances with feathers and sparkles?” Her eyes sparkled, her body practically vibrating with excitement. “That sounds amazing!”
Miyaki’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Exactly! It’s elegant, fun, and empowering! I promise it’s nothing too risqué—just some sassy dancing and a lot of fun.” She looked at the group, her smile hopeful. “What do you say, ladies? Will you help me out?”
Rosie was already bouncing on her toes, her excitement infectious. “I’m in!”
Toru’s eyes sparkled as she clapped her hands. “Me too! This sounds like so much fun!”
Momo’s cheeks flushed, but a smile spread across her face. “I… I’ve never done anything like this before, but it sounds exciting. I’m in as well.”
Rosie turned to Tsui, Uraraka, and Jirou, her eyes pleading. “Come on, guys! It’ll be so much fun! We can make this a bonding experience!”
Tsui’s eyes widened, her lips forming an ‘O’ shape as she glanced at the others. “Ribbit… Well… it could be fun, I suppose.”
Uraraka fidgeted, her fingers twisting nervously. “I-I don’t know… I’ve never danced before…”
Mina grinned, nudging her playfully. “You don’t have to be a professional, Ochaco! It’s all about having fun and letting loose!”
Jirou’s cheeks turned pink, her hands stuffed in her pockets as she looked away. “I… I’m not really good at dancing…”
Rosie pouted, her eyes widening as she turned her best puppy dog look on Jirou. “Please, Jirou? It’ll be so much fun, and we’ll all be together!”
Jirou sighed, her shoulders slumping as she gave in. “Fine… but I’m blaming you if I embarrass myself.”
Rosie beamed, clapping her hands together. “Yes! This is going to be so much fun!”
Miyaki’s eyes sparkled with delight. “Wonderful! I’ll teach you a simple routine, and then we’ll get you into costumes and makeup! You girls are going to look stunning!”
Mina looped her arm through Rosie’s, her smile wide as she led her towards the back room. “This is going to be the best girls’ night ever!”
Rosie’s heart raced, her excitement bubbling over as she followed Mina, her mind racing with thoughts of feathers, sparkles, and glamorous dances.
Notes:
thank you all so much for the support! I hope you guys have a really nice day<3
Chapter 46: Oi, don’t drool, Icy Hot
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki took a long swig of his beer, leaning back against his couch as he looked around his apartment, the familiar faces of his friends scattered around the room. Deku and Icy Hot were sitting on the floor by the coffee table, a pile of All Might-themed snacks between them. Kirishima and Kaminari were sprawled out on the other couch, laughing at some dumb meme on Kaminari’s phone, and Tokoyami sat in the armchair by the window, his eyes reflecting the city lights outside.
They’d all gathered at his place after a long week of work and studying, and despite his initial grumbling, Katsuki was glad to have them there. It felt like old times, a reminder of the days they spent together at U.A., training until their bodies gave out and pushing each other to be better.
He smirked, taking another sip as Kirishima leaned forward, his eyes bright with excitement. “You guys ready for that quirk checkup on Monday?”
Kaminari groaned, slumping against the armrest. “Man, I feel like I’ve been training non-stop for that thing.”
“That’s because you have been, even if you’re an idiot,” Katsuki shot back, his eyes gleaming.
“Aw, come on, man!” Kaminari whined, his shoulders slumping as Kirishima chuckled, giving him a reassuring pat on the back.
Deku’s eyes lit up, his usual enthusiasm shining through as he leaned forward. “I’ve been working on integrating more of Blackwhip with Full Cowling. It’s tough, but I think I’m finally getting the hang of it. I want to be able to use it for mobility and crowd control during missions.”
After the War, Izuku had almost lost his ability to use One for All and had spent years training to use it again but due to his physical limits to his body he had to relearn how to use his body.
Katsuki grunted, his lips curving into a smirk. “You better not slow me down, nerd. I’ve been working on my long-range attacks. Gotta make sure I can hit those bastards before they even get close.”
Icy Hot nodded, his voice calm as he spoke. “I’ve been refining my ice control. I realized during the war that my ice is more versatile than I initially thought. I want to be able to create barriers and platforms more efficiently, and combine them with my fire for more powerful attacks.”
“Nice,” Kirishima grinned, his teeth sharp as he flexed his arm, his skin hardening to stone. “I’ve been working on maintaining Unbreakable for longer periods and perfecting some new signature moves.”
Tokoyami’s eyes gleamed with determination, his voice low and steady. “Dark Shadow and I have been practicing nighttime maneuvers. Our synergy is stronger than ever, and we’re focusing on increasing our speed and precision.”
Katsuki took another drink, his eyes narrowing with excitement. “Good. ‘Cause once we pass that checkup, we’re back in the field. No more sittin’ around in classrooms or bullshit part-time jobs. We’ll be real heroes again.”
The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in. They all felt it, the anticipation, the hunger to get back out there and fight. It had been too long since they’d been on the front lines, too long since they’d felt the rush of battle.
Kirishima grinned, his eyes gleaming. “You guys think we’ll get to do missions with our old mentors?”
Deku’s face lit up. “Oh man, I hope so! I’d love to team up with Endeavor again. He taught me so much during my work study.”
Icy Hot nodded, his voice softening. “I wouldn’t mind working with my dad again. I still have a lot to learn from him.”
Kaminari’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I wonder if I’ll get to do missions with Chargebolt! He’s been giving me pointers on my electricity usage through texts. It’d be awesome to team up with him for real.”
Tokoyami’s voice was low, his eyes thoughtful. “Hawks mentioned that he’d be watching the checkup closely.”
Katsuki’s lips curled into a wicked grin, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “I’m gunning for the top. Don’t care who I team up with. Long as I get to blow some villains to hell.”
Kirishima laughed, his eyes shining. “Man, it feels good to talk about this stuff again. It’s like we’re back at U.A., planning our next big mission.”
“Yeah,” Deku agreed, his eyes distant, a nostalgic smile on his face. “I missed this.”
Katsuki’s chest tightened, his fingers gripping his beer can a little harder. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he missed it too. Missed the thrill of battle, the adrenaline and the satisfaction of defeating villains.
He raised his glass beer bottle, his eyes sharp as he looked at each of them. “Monday's just the beginning. We pass that checkup, and we’re back in the game. Don’t even think about falling behind, got it?”
They all grinned, their eyes fierce and determined as they raised their cans, clinking them together.
“Hell yeah!” Kirishima shouted. “Let’s show ‘em what we’re made of!”
Katsuki’s grin widened, his heart pounding with excitement as he took another swig, the familiar fire burning in his chest.
Monday couldn’t come fast enough.
After drinking and playing video games for a couple of hours that ended with Katsuki breaking his controller after he smashed it onto the ground. Kirishima says they should head out to go see the new club to which they all agreed. Katsuki drove with Kirishima, the icy hot bastard, and Deku with Kaminari and Tokoyami following him.
Once parking, they moved through the dimly lit corridors of the underground tunnels, the bass from the clubs vibrating through the walls as neon lights flickered overhead. Katsuki scowled, shoving his hands into his pockets as he followed Kirishima, the redhead leading the way through the crowded passage. People were everywhere, talking, laughing, stumbling around with drinks in hand, clogging the narrow hallways and generally pissing him off.
Checking his phone again, he frowned, his thumb swiping down his screen to refresh his notifications. Nothing. Not a single damn text from Rosie. It had been over two hours since he’d heard from her, and it was starting to get to him. What the hell were they doing at this stupid girls’ night? He bit back a growl, slipping his phone back into his pocket as they approached a sleek black building outlined in neon pink lights.
The place looked high-end, with gold accents lining the entrance and a velvet rope keeping the line of extras in check. Kirishima approached the bouncer, a mountain of a man with arms bigger than Deku’s head, and after a brief conversation, the guy nodded and unhooked the rope, letting them all in without a second glance. People in line started grumbling, but Katsuki ignored them, following his friends inside.
Fucking extras.
The interior was just as fancy as the outside, the walls painted in deep reds and golds, vintage posters framed on the walls. The lighting was low, sultry, casting shadows across the plush velvet booths arranged in a semicircle around a stage. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, sparkling in the dim light as jazz music played softly in the background.
“We have front row spots!” Kirishima grinned, leading them to a large booth directly in front of the stage. The table was already stocked with drinks, courtesy of the owner, no doubt. They all slid into the booth, Katsuki taking the seat closest to the stage, his arms crossed as he leaned back, his eyes scanning the room. It was classy, definitely not the kind of place he’d usually find himself, but he could see the appeal.
The owner approached them, a tall woman with dark hair, a confident smile on her deep red lips. “Eijiro! Glad you could make it,” she greeted, her eyes sparkling as she leaned in to hug him. Her perfume was strong, floral with a hint of spice, and she carried herself with the kind of confidence Katsuki couldn’t help but respect.
“Of course! Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Kirishima grinned, patting her back. “This place is amazing, Miyaki.”
“Thank you,” she beamed, her gaze shifting to the rest of the group. “I hope you all enjoy the show. It’s our first amateur burlesque night, so be gentle with them,” she teased, winking before strutting off, her heels clicking against the floor as she disappeared behind a velvet curtain.
Silence fell over the table as they all processed her words.
“A… burlesque show?” Deku choked, his face turning bright red as his eyes widened. “L-Like… like…”
“Hell no,” Kaminari blurted, his hands shooting up as he started to stand. “I’m not getting my ass chewed out by Jirou for watching that.”
Tokoyami was already halfway out of his seat, his face carefully neutral as he mumbled something about loyalty and dignity to Tsui. Even Deku was shifting, his eyes wide and panicked. “Uraraka would kill me.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes, leaning back as he watched them scramble. “Seriously? You all scared of your girlfriends?”
However, he was nervous too. This was not something that Rosie and him had talked about but he had a feeling that this was a big no no for her. Plus, he didn't even want to watch it, he would rather be at home with his girlfriend, with her drenching her panties as she cried out his name. Fucking hell, he needed to get out of here.
Kirishima burst out laughing, slapping his thigh. “Chill, guys. It’s not that serious.” He shook his head, his shoulders shaking with amusement. “It’s amateur burlesque. Not stripping. It’s classy, and it’s mostly dancing and costumes. Besides,” he added, leaning in conspiratorially, “the girls are coming too. Mina’s friends with Miyaki, and they’re here to support her.”
That got their attention.
“They’re coming here?” Izuku asked, his eyes wide with relief. “Oh, thank god.” He sank back into his seat, his shoulders sagging as he exhaled.
Kaminari sat back down, still looking uncertain. “So… we’re not gonna get yelled at?”
“Only if you act like a creep,” Kirishima snorted. “Just enjoy the dancing, guys. It’s art.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes, his fingers tapping against his glass. He wouldn’t admit it but he was worried about getting in trouble. It’s not like he wanted to be here, he just wanted to be with his adorable girlfriend. His very sexy and adoring girlfriend. Fuck…he missed her. His eyes flicked to his phone again, his chest tightening when he saw the empty notifications. Damn it. What was she doing?
As the lights dimmed and the jazz music swelled, he forced himself to shove those thoughts aside, his eyes fixed on the stage as the velvet curtain slowly parted. Even though his body was here, his mind was on a girl in a pink dress with strawberry lip gloss who hadn’t texted him back.
Ten minutes went by and soon the bouncer had allowed in others who were also friends with the owner. Not like Katsuki fucking cared. He had been staring at his phone, willing it to light up with a text from Rosie.
Babydoll sent a text message.
He had never clicked a notification faster than he did before as he stared at the text message.
Babydoll: Sorry for the late response, the girls and I got distracted and I lost my phone.
Katsuki: Where was it?
Babydoll: Underneath my clothes that I had taken off
Babydoll: Gotta go, I’ll explain later!
Katsuki scowled at his phone, his fingers tightening around the glass in his other hand as he read Rosie’s text again. Underneath her clothes? What the hell were they doing? And why weren’t they here? His eyes flicked up to the dimly lit stage, irritation flickering through him as he tapped his foot against the floor. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be with her, watching her cute expressions as she got excited over whatever girly shit she had planned for her sleepover.
He missed her. Damn it, he missed her.
The club’s lights dimmed even further, a spotlight illuminating the stage as the owner stepped out, she had changed into a sleek, red satin dress. “Welcome, everyone!” Miyaki’s voice was smooth, commanding attention as she grinned at the crowd. “Thank you all for coming tonight to the soft opening of Ignis Inferno! I am so thrilled to see so many familiar faces here. Tonight’s a special night, an exclusive preview before we open to the public. So please, sit back, relax, and enjoy the show!”
The crowd cheered, applause filling the room as Miyaki’s smile widened. “Now, we have a fantastic lineup planned for tonight! To start, please welcome the sultry voice of our very own Reina!”
The velvet curtains pulled back, revealing a woman standing at the center of the stage. She was tall and graceful, wearing a shimmering silver gown that sparkled under the lights. Her dark hair was styled in soft curls, her lips painted a bold red as she began to sing, her voice low and velvety, a slow jazz tune filling the air.
Katsuki barely spared her a glance, his eyes drifting back to his phone, his thumb tapping against his thigh impatiently. He wanted another text from Rosie. He wanted to know what she was doing, why she was taking off her clothes, and why she wasn’t here. He wanted to see her cute pout, hear her sweet voice call his name, feel her small hands on his chest…
His jaw tightened as he forced himself to look away from his phone, his eyes landing on the menu in front of him. Might as well eat something. He was starving.
“What are you getting?” Kirishima leaned over, glancing at his menu with curiosity.
Katsuki grunted, his eyes scanning the list. “Dunno. Probably the spicy wings.”
“That sounds good! I’m thinking of getting the loaded nachos,” Kirishima grinned.
Kaminari chimed in, his eyes lighting up as he pointed to the burger section, “I’m getting the Inferno Burger! It’s supposed to be super spicy!”
“Figures,” Katsuki muttered, rolling his eyes. His phone remained stubbornly silent, no new texts from Rosie. Damn it.
The singer finished her second song, the audience applauding politely as she bowed and walked off stage. Katsuki barely noticed, his eyes still glued to his phone. He glanced up when a waitress approached, her smile bright as she took their orders. He ordered his spicy wings and another drink, his mind drifting back to Rosie. Was she thinking about him? Did she miss him as much as he missed her?
Miyaki returned to the stage, her eyes sparkling as she held the microphone. “Thank you, Reina! Wasn’t she amazing?” The crowd clapped again, and Miyaki beamed. “Alright, everyone, I have a bit of an announcement. Our original burlesque dancers, unfortunately, got food poisoning the other day and are still recovering.”
A few gasps and murmurs spread through the crowd, people exchanging curious glances. Katsuki raised an eyebrow, his attention finally pulled away from his phone.
“But don’t worry!” Miyaki continued, her smile playful as she winked at the audience. “I called in some friends of mine to step in last minute so I have made tonight to our honorary amateur burlesque show! I promise you, they’re just as talented, and I hope you enjoy the show!”
The crowd roared, the air buzzing with anticipation as the lights dimmed once more, shadows dancing across the stage. Katsuki leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed as he watched the velvet curtains slowly part, revealing several figures standing in a poised line.
His eyes narrowed, the spotlight gradually brightening to reveal the girls standing in formation. And there, at the center, his heart nearly stopped.
Rosie.
She stood there, her body perfectly framed by the golden light, dressed in a sparkling pink and white burlesque costume that hugged every curve. The corset-style bodice shimmered with rhinestones, the lace accentuating her waist before flaring into a short, ruffled skirt that teased the tops of her thighs. White thigh-high stockings hugged her legs, finished with pink satin bows, and her heels made her legs look impossibly long.
Her hair was styled in loose, voluminous curls, framing her flushed face as she smiled coyly, her glossy lips curving in a playful pout. Her makeup was done in soft pinks, her lashes long and fluttering as her eyes sparkled under the lights. She looked seductive, confident, breathtaking.
Katsuki couldn’t breathe.
His grip on his glass tightened, his eyes locked on her as the music started, a sultry jazz tune that set the perfect rhythm. The girls moved in sync, their hips swaying as they struck a pose, their hands trailing down their curves before they turned and strutted forward. Rosie moved with them, her steps graceful, her body swaying perfectly to the beat, her smile unwavering. She looked like she belonged on that stage.
He was speechless, his jaw clenched as his eyes followed her every movement, his chest tightening as he watched her body twist and sway, her hands running down her sides before her hips rolled with the rhythm. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t even blink, completely and utterly mesmerized.
His sweet, innocent Rosie… dancing seductively on stage… dressed like that.
Kirishima choked on his drink, his eyes wide as he elbowed Katsuki. “Dude… isn’t that…?”
“Yeah.” Katsuki’s voice was low, rough, his eyes never leaving her. He barely even heard Kirishima, too focused on the way Rosie’s body moved, her shoulders rolling back as she dipped low, her skirt fluttering dangerously close to revealing more than he was willing to share with anyone in the damn room.
His chest burned, heat curling in his gut as his eyes followed the delicate line of her neck, the way her hair brushed over her bare shoulders, her collarbone shimmering under the spotlight. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes gleaming with excitement, but there was a telltale pink tint that made his eyes narrow.
The music swelled, the routine picking up as the girls twirled, their skirts flaring as they danced across the stage. Rosie’s body moved in perfect rhythm, her hands gliding down her waist, her hips swaying as she spun around, giving him a perfect view of her long legs and the pink satin bows on her stockings and the beautiful view of her ass.
Katsuki’s chest tightened, his jaw clenching as he shifted in his seat, his eyes darkening as he watched her twirl again, her curls bouncing as she smiled, her eyes coy, flirtatious. Damn it, she looked so fucking good. Too good. And he could barely stand it.
His fingers flexed, his hands itching to touch her, to feel her soft skin under his palms, to pull her close and kiss that teasing smile off her lips. He swallowed hard, his eyes trailing over her thighs, the delicate lace of her skirt, the soft pink satin ribbons, the shimmer of her costume under the lights. Every inch of her was perfection, his beautiful, confident, tempting girlfriend.
He really wanted to fuck her in that costume.
His mouth curved into a smirk, his heart thundering in his chest. She looked so damn gorgeous, so confident up there, even with the slight flush on her cheeks. But he could see the nervous energy in the way her fingers fluttered a bit too delicately, the way her eyes flicked toward the crowd before returning to her routine. She was excited, but just a bit shy. His shy little Rosie.
The thought made his chest tighten, his possessiveness flaring as he watched her smile, her body twisting in a way that made his blood heat. No one else should be seeing her like this. No one else deserved to see her like this. Just him. Only him.
His eyes darkened, his fingers gripping his glass so tightly it was a wonder it didn’t shatter. All he could think about was getting his hands on her, feeling her body under his, hearing that sweet voice of hers calling his name, seeing her blush just for him. She was his, dammit. Only his.
His smirk widened, his tongue swiping over his lips as he watched her twirl again, her curls bouncing, her skirt fluttering. She had no idea he was there, no idea how she was driving him insane. But she would. Oh, she definitely would.
Katsuki leaned back, his arms crossed as he watched Rosie move on stage, his crimson eyes locked on her every step. She was breathtaking, her body swaying to the rhythm, her smile radiant, her eyes sparkling with joy. Her costume hugged her curves perfectly, showing just enough to be teasing but leaving plenty to his imagination, and damn if it didn’t drive him crazy.
He liked seeing her like this—confident, carefree, absolutely stunning. She looked so damn happy up there, completely in her element, and it made his chest tighten. She was his girl. His. And she was dazzling, a vision of beauty and light that no one could look away from.
He could feel the eyes of other men on her, their stares lingering a little too long, their gazes tracing the curves he knew better than anyone. But he didn’t care. Let them look. Let them see how gorgeous she was, how effortlessly she stole the spotlight.
Because at the end of the night, she would be leaving with him. She was his to hold, his to kiss, his to love. Every smile, every laugh, every sway of her hips belonged to him, and no one else could ever touch her the way he did.
He found himself smirking, his chest swelling with pride as she twirled, her hair flowing behind her, her eyes shining with excitement. She was incredible, and everyone could see it. But only he knew the way she looked first thing in the morning, her hair a mess, her eyes still heavy with sleep. Only he knew the sound of her voice when she whispered his name, her breath warm against his neck. Only he knew how soft her skin was under his touch, how perfectly she fit in his arms.
His fingers tightened around his drink as she laughed, her head thrown back, her joy contagious. She was mesmerizing, and every damn person in this room knew it. But she was his girl. She was his to protect, his to tease. They could look all they wanted, but that was all they’d ever get.
Because at the end of the night, she’d be in his arms. She’d be the one tangled up with him, her fingers tracing the lines of his jaw as she whispered his name. She’d be the one falling asleep on his chest, his heartbeat her lullaby.
His heart raced as she looked out into the crowd, her eyes finding his, her smile softening, her gaze filled with a warmth and excitement that was meant only for him. It made his chest tighten, his resolve harden. He would always protect that smile, that light. No one would ever take her away from him.
The lights dimmed as the final note of the music echoed through the club, the atmosphere electric with applause and cheers. On stage, the girls stood together, their silhouettes framed by the soft glow of the spotlight as they joined hands and took a bow, their faces glowing with excitement and pride. Their costumes sparkled under the light, the intricate designs catching every gleam as they grinned at the roaring audience.
Miyaki, the owner, stepped onto the stage, her smile wide and genuine as she joined the applause, her eyes shining with pride. “Let’s give another round of applause for our lovely performers tonight!” she announced, her voice carrying through the room as the audience erupted in whistles and cheers, some even standing from their seats to show their admiration.
Katsuki crossed his arms, his eyes never leaving the stage, his gaze fixed on Rosie’s glowing face. Her hair was perfectly styled, her makeup flawless, her smile so radiant it made his chest ache. She looked so damn happy up there, so confident, so beautiful.
Beside him, Izuku’s face was bright red, his eyes wide as he watched Uraraka’s bashful smile before she joined her friends in bowing one last time before they exited the stage. “Did you know about this, Kirishima?” Izuku’s voice was a whisper, tinged with awe and disbelief.
Kirishima shook his head, his face a mix of shock and admiration. “Not a clue.” His voice was tight, his gaze glued to Mina’s retreating form. “But holy shit, I’m glad we came.”
Katsuki’s ears picked up the low, barely audible murmur that slipped past Todoroki’s lips, his eyes still locked on Momo’s figure as she walked off the stage, the sway of her hips mesmerizing. “Has Momo always been this beautiful?”
Katsuki’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he shot Todoroki a look. But the half-and-half bastard didn’t notice, too busy staring at Momo like she was the only thing that existed in the room.
“Oi, don’t drool, Icy Hot,” Katsuki muttered, his voice laced with annoyance, but Todoroki didn’t even glance his way, his eyes fixed on the stage long after Momo had disappeared behind the curtain.
Some time passed, the room buzzing with excited chatter as plates of food began to fill the tables. Just as their food arrived, the girls reappeared, now dressed in their usual clothes, their faces flushed with excitement as they approached the booth, each carrying a black bag with the club’s logo on it.
Mina’s eyes lit up as she spotted Kirishima, her face breaking into a wide grin as she all but leapt into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Did you like the surprise?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Kirishima’s face was bright red, his hands settling on her hips as he grinned up at her. “Hell yeah! You were amazing babe!”
Mina’s laughter was bright and carefree as she leaned in to press a quick kiss to his lips before settling comfortably in his lap.
Uraraka blushed as she approached Deku, her steps hesitant before he held out his arms, his face just as red as hers. She let out a soft giggle as she climbed into his lap, his arms wrapping around her waist as she buried her face in his shoulder, clearly embarrassed. “Did… did you like it?” she asked softly.
Deku’s face was crimson, his eyes wide as he stammered, “Y-Yeah! You… You were incredible, Uraraka!” His voice was shaky, his grip tightening around her as she giggled, her fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.
Tsui easily slipped into Tokoyami’s lap, her usual calm demeanor intact as she tilted her head at him. “Did you enjoy it?” she asked simply, her big eyes curious.
Tokoyami nodded, his voice low. “You were… captivating.”
Tsuyu’s lips curled into a small, satisfied smile as she leaned back against him.
Jirou didn’t even give Kaminari a chance to say anything as she slid into his lap, her fingers playfully tugging at his earphone jack. “What? Speechless for once?” she teased, her eyes twinkling.
Kaminari’s face was beet red, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to form words. “You… You were… I… Wow.”
Jirou’s laughter was soft and warm as she shook her head. “Idiot.” But her smile was affectionate as she rested her head on his shoulder.
Rosie squeezed in next to Katsuki, her eyes bright and playful as she leaned into his side. “Hi,” she greeted softly, her voice warm as she looked up at him, her lips curved into a sweet smile.
Katsuki’s heart skipped a beat, his eyes roaming over her face, taking in every detail, from the way her hair fell softly around her shoulders to the way her eyes sparkled with happiness. “Hey, Babydoll,” he murmured in her ear, his voice rough as he resisted the urge to pull her into his lap and kiss her until she was breathless.
Momo settled next to Shoto, her cheeks pink as she offered him a shy smile. “I… I hope you enjoyed the show.”
Shoto blinked, his mouth opening as he struggled to find his words. “You… You were beautiful,” he admitted, his voice quiet, sincere.
Momo’s blush deepened, her hands nervously fiddling with the strap of her bag. “Thank you…”
Toru took the end seat, her shoulders slumping slightly as she sighed. “It’s too bad Ojiro couldn’t make it. I wanted him to see me perform…”
Rosie placed a comforting hand on Toru’s shoulder, her voice soft. “He’ll definitely make it next time! And I bet he’d be so proud of you.”
Toru’s invisible face seemed to brighten at that as she perked up. “Yeah… You’re right!”
Katsuki’s arm rested on the back of the booth behind Rosie, his fingers absentmindedly brushing against her shoulder as he leaned in, his voice low. “Didn’t know you could dance like that, Babydoll.”
Rosie looked up at him, her cheeks flushing as she gave him a playful pout. “Did you like it?”
Katsuki’s eyes darkened, his lips curving into a smirk. “Liked it a little too much,” he admitted, his voice dropping as he leaned in closer. “Had to stop myself from dragging you off that stage.”
Her cheeks turned bright pink, her eyes widening as she looked away, flustered. “Katsuki…” she whispered, her voice soft, embarrassed.
He chuckled, his chest rumbling as he watched her squirm, his heart swelling with affection. Damn, she was too cute.
His eyes drifted to her lips, and he was already thinking about how he’d kiss her senseless the moment they were alone. But for now, he’d play nice. He leaned back, his arm still resting behind her as the group began to dig into their food, the conversation lively and full of laughter.
After they finished eating, they watched the other shows that followed—the comedy act that had everyone laughing, he found it funny too but instead he just leaned back in the booth and drank his beer, another set of dancers, and a singer. Katsuki enjoyed every moment, since he was able to steal glances at Rosie, their hands laced under the table, and he particularly enjoyed when he leaned down to whisper in his ear that made her blush and giggle.
When the last performance ended, they settled the bill and made their way out of the underground tunnels, walking alongside the other couples who chatted animatedly as they headed toward the exit. Katsuki carried Rosie’s bag, the black satin material bearing the club’s elegant logo.
He eyed the bag curiously, his brow quirking. “So, what’s in here?”
Rosie glanced up at him, her lips curving into a playful smile. “Miyaki let us keep the costumes.”
His eyes widened, his pace slowing as he turned to look at her, his mind already spinning with possibilities. He leaned down, his lips grazing the shell of her ear as he whispered, “Does this mean you can give me a private show?”
Her face turned a brilliant shade of red, her eyes widening as she looked up at him, completely flustered. Her mouth opened, but no words came out, her mind clearly racing. But her eyes… her eyes were dark with excitement, a spark of curiosity and desire reflecting in them.
He grinned, loving the way she looked—shy, embarrassed, but undeniably turned on. She was so damn beautiful, and the fact that he could get her to react like this only made him want her more.
She swallowed, her voice soft as she bit her lip, glancing up at him through her lashes. “Would… would that be something you’d like?”
His eyes darkened, his grip tightening on the bag as his mind painted vivid images of her in that short, sparkling outfit, her body moving just for him. He leaned closer, his lips barely brushing hers as he murmured, “I’d like to see you in that costume… grinding on my thigh as you get off.”
Her mouth fell open, a gasp escaping her lips as her eyes widened, her entire body stiffening in shock. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red, her hands instinctively coming up to cover her mouth as she stared at him, absolutely stunned.
Fuck.
His girlfriend was so fucking adorable.
He couldn’t help but chuckle, his chest swelling with pride at the way he could get her so flustered. “You’re cute when you’re shy, Babydoll.” He teased, giving her a playful wink before turning to catch up with the others.
Rosie remained frozen for a moment, her hands still covering her face as she tried to compose herself. But her heart was racing, her thoughts spinning wildly as she replayed his words over and over in her mind. How could he say that so casually and then just walk away like nothing happened? She hurried after him, her head down as her cheeks continued to burn. Damn it, Katsuki…
They reached the parking lot, the night air cool against their faces as they approached Mina’s car. Katsuki opened the trunk, placing the bag inside along with the other girls bag, closing it with a soft thud. The others were scattered around, chatting and laughing as they prepared to leave. Mina was leaning against Kirishima’s shoulder, her eyes sparkling as she recapped her favorite parts of the show. Momo and Toru were speaking with Shoto.
Katsuki glanced around, noting that everyone was distracted before he turned to Rosie, his eyes softening as he watched her. Her face was still flushed, her fingers nervously playing with the hem of her dress as she tried to avoid his gaze. He couldn’t resist—he stepped closer, his hand cupping her cheek as he leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a quick, tender kiss.
Her eyes widened, her body tensing before she melted into him, her lips soft and warm against his. But before she could fully respond, he pulled back, his eyes dancing with amusement as he watched her face turn bright red once more.
Her hands flew up, covering her face as she let out a soft, embarrassed whine. “Katsuki…” She whispered, her voice muffled by her hands.
He chuckled, his heart fluttering at the way she said his name, so soft and sweet, tinged with that adorable shyness he loved so much. “You’re too damn cute, Babydoll,” he murmured, his fingers brushing her hair behind her ear as he leaned down, his voice low. “Can’t help myself when you look at me like that.”
She peeked at him from between her fingers, her eyes shimmering with embarrassment and affection. Her lips were curved into a shy smile, her shoulders hunching as she tried to hide her flushed face. He could see the way her heart was racing, her chest rising and falling quickly as she tried to steady herself.
He grinned, stepping back as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, his gaze lingering on her before he turned away, his voice light as he called over his shoulder, “Let’s go, Babydoll. Before I decide to take you home with me and kick the losers out.”
Rosie’s heart skipped, her face growing impossibly hotter as she hurried after him, her voice a soft, embarrassed whisper. “Meanie…”
He just laughed, his heart feeling light as he walked toward the car, Rosie trailing behind him, still trying to recover from his teasing. She was perfect, every little reaction of hers making him fall even harder.
Was he obsessed?
Notes:
I have to go study for midterms now, wish me luck and lots of coffee as I'm already mentally at my limit! hope you loved the chapter and thank you all for your continuous support!
Chapter 47: I fucking adore you, babydoll.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie slipped into her room, quietly closing the door behind her, her heart fluttering as she fell into bed, her phone already in her hands. The night had been a success—teriyaki chicken and white rice, wine flowing freely, and laughter echoing through her apartment until exhaustion finally claimed her friends. It was past 3 a.m., and all the girls were sprawled out in her living room, asleep.
Her fingers danced over her screen.
Rosie: They’re all asleep. Sleepover was a success.
His response was immediate, almost like he had been waiting for her message.
Pomchi: ’Bout damn time. Wish they’d gone to bed sooner.
Rosie: You’re impatient. Could always just go to bed.
Pomchi: Can’t. If I do, they’ll just irritate me.
She giggled softly, imagining the scowl on his face.
Rosie: They’re that bad?
Pomchi: You have no idea. Kaminari’s trying to get me to dance, and Kirishima’s drunk off his ass. Should’ve just spent the night with you.
Her heart skipped a beat, her cheeks flushing as she read his words. She bit her lip, her fingers hesitating over her screen before she replied.
Rosie: I wish you did… I missed you tonight.
There was a pause, and she wondered if she had been too bold, her face heating up as she stared at her screen. But then his reply came, and her heart raced.
Pomchi: Missed you too, Babydoll. Couldn’t stop thinking about you. You looked so damn pretty today.
Her face went red, her fingers trembling slightly as she typed.
Rosie: You thought so?
Pomchi: I know so. I kept staring at you when you weren’t lookin’. Wish I could’ve just dragged you outta there and kept you all to myself.
She swallowed, her pulse quickening as she imagined his intense gaze on her. Her fingers hovered over her keyboard before she mustered the courage to reply.
Rosie: You’re always staring… You’ll make me more shy.
Pomchi: Good. I like that look on you. Send me some pics from tonight. But only the ones with you in them.
She bit her lip, her heart fluttering wildly. Quickly, she scrolled through her camera roll, selecting a few photos—one of her smiling with Mina and Momo with their wine glasses, another of her posing with her hands clasped in front of her, her white dress with pink lace hugging her curves perfectly, and the last one of her watching a movie with the girls. She hesitated before sending them, feeling a rush of nervousness before she finally hit send.
A moment later, his response came in.
Pomchi: Damn, you’re beautiful. Look at you… So fuckin’ gorgeous.
Her breath hitched, her face burning as she read his words. She could practically hear his voice, low and rough, the way he always spoke when he was staring at her with those intense, smoldering eyes.
Rosie: Katsuki… You’re making me blush.
Pomchi: Good. You look cute when you’re all flustered. Wish I could see it in person.
Her heart was pounding now, her lips curving into a shy smile. She turned, burying her face into her pillow, her fingers gripping the fabric as she tried to calm her racing heart.
Rosie: You’re too much…
Pomchi: Only for you, Babydoll.
Her heart melted, her chest tightening as she read his words over and over again, feeling his affection wrapped around her like a warm, protective embrace. She hugged her pillow tighter, a soft giggle escaping her lips as she typed her reply.
Rosie: You’re sweet… But you won’t remember this tomorrow when you’re grumpy and tired.
Pomchi: I’ll always remember, Princess. You’re too unforgettable.
She was done for. Completely, utterly done for. Katsuki Bakugou was going to be the death of her heart, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. Rosie never thought that she would land herself a super hot, kind and flirty boyfriend.
Rosie: Goodnight Katsuki, see you tomorrow<3
Pomchi: Goodnight pretty girl, sleep well<3
Rosie hugged Mina tightly, laughing as her friend groaned, rubbing her temples. “Next time, we’re cutting off your wine supply at midnight,” Mina teased, her voice playfully scolding.
“Never!” Rosie grinned, waving as Mina joined the others down the hall. “Text me when you get home!”
Maya trotted beside her, her pink bow slightly askew, her tail wagging as she looked up at Rosie expectantly. “Alright, let’s get you outside, princess,” Rosie cooed, grabbing the leash. They made their way down to the courtyard, the morning sun warm against her skin. Maya sniffed around, taking her time before finally doing her business.
Heading back up to her apartment, Rosie sighed as she unlocked the door and took in the aftermath of last night’s sleepover. Throw pillows were scattered across the floor, empty snack bowls cluttered the coffee table, and the blankets they had bundled up in were strewn across the couch. At least the girls had been nice enough to move the furniture back to where it belonged before they left.
She pouted, tying her hair up into a messy bun. “Alright, let’s get this over with,” she muttered, rolling up her sleeves. She started with the dishes, loading the dishwasher and setting it to run. Humming to herself, she began folding the blankets, neatly stacking them on the arm of the couch.
Just as she was about to grab the vacuum, a firm knock echoed from her front door. Rosie blinked, her brow furrowing. “Did someone forget something?” She wondered aloud, padding over to the door. Unlocking it, she swung it open, expecting to see Mina or perhaps Jiro.
“Katsuki—!” Her voice was cut off as strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her off her feet. She squealed, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried her inside, the door slamming shut behind them.
His face was buried in her neck, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine as he murmured, “We’re going back to bed. Just you and I.” His voice was rough, low, sending a flush of heat through her entire body.
“K-Katsuki…” she stammered, her hands clutching his shoulders as he carried her effortlessly down the hall. “You could have texted… warned me… something!”
He let out a low growl, his lips brushing against her ear as he tightened his grip on her. “Wanted to see you. Needed to hold you,” he admitted, his honesty making her heart skip. “No more interruptions. You’re mine for the rest of the day.”
Rosie’s heart fluttered, her cheeks flushing as he nudged her bedroom door open with his foot. Her neatly made bed came into view, but it was only neat for a second before he dropped her onto the mattress, her body bouncing slightly as she landed.
She looked up at him, her breath catching as she took in his appearance. His hair was messy, sticking up in every direction, his eyes dark and hungry as he stared down at her. He wore a t-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders and grey sweats that hung low on his hips, his stance relaxed but powerful.
He wasted no time, climbing over her, his hands bracing on either side of her head as he hovered above her. “Missed you,” he rasped, his nose brushing against hers before his lips captured hers in a deep, possessive kiss.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, her body arching up to meet his as he pressed her into the mattress, his weight warm and comforting. “I missed you too,” she whispered against his lips, her voice trembling.
Katsuki’s lips curled into a smug grin, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear. “Then don’t complain when I keep you in bed all day, Babydoll.”
Rosie’s cheeks flushed a rosy pink, her lips pouting. “Aren’t you supposed to be training today with the guys for the quirk checkup tomorrow?”
He scoffed, his eyes rolling. “I’ll train tonight.” Without another word, he pulled her into his arms, his body molding perfectly against hers as they slid under the covers. She nestled against his chest, her leg draped over his as she closed her eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear.
“I’m supposed to be having brunch with my Dad and Uncle Mic…” she trailed off but found it hard to argue.
“Reschedule.” He muttered
“Alright,” she reached for her phone, sent them a text before tossing her phone back onto the table.
“You’re so warm,” she murmured, her voice muffled against his skin.
He let out a low chuckle, his fingers weaving into her hair, gently tugging out the hair tie and letting her locks spill over his arm. “It’s because of my quirk,” he teased, his tone softening. His fingertips traced soothing circles along her scalp, lulling her into a peaceful slumber.
His warmth enveloped her, his scent comforting as she drifted off, her breaths evening out as she fell asleep in his embrace. Katsuki followed soon after, his head resting against hers, his body relaxing as he held her close, his lips brushing over the top of her head as sleep overtook him.
Rosie awoke to the faint rustling of sheets and a soft, furry presence beside her. Blinking sleepily, she opened her eyes to find Maya sitting patiently by her pillow, her big, round eyes staring intently at her. In her mouth, she held her food bowl, the pink bandana around her neck perfectly matching the pink bow on her head.
A giggle escaped Rosie’s lips, her shoulders shaking as she tried to stifle the sound. But it was too late. Behind her, Katsuki stirred, his face buried in her hair, his arms wrapped snugly around her waist as he spooned her. His voice was a low, raspy mumble as he nipped at her ear. “What’s so funny, Babydoll?”
A shiver ran down her spine at the sensation, a soft moan slipping past her lips before she could stop it. Her cheeks flamed as she pointed toward Maya. “L-Look at Maya.”
She felt him lift his head, his warm breath brushing against her neck as he glanced up. A snort escaped him, his chest vibrating against her back as he laughed. “Her way of telling us we both have to get up,” he muttered, his voice still heavy with sleep.
Before she could respond, her stomach growled loudly, echoing through the room. Rosie’s eyes widened, her face burning with embarrassment as she buried her face in the pillow. Katsuki’s laughter filled the room, low and raspy as he tightened his grip on her waist. “Guess I’ll have to feed both my girls,” he teased, his lips brushing against the back of her neck before he reluctantly pulled away.
Rosie pouted as she watched him get out of bed, his hair messy and tousled, his shirt riding up slightly to reveal his toned abs as he stretched. She bit her lip, her eyes shamelessly lingering on him before she forced herself to move, her body protesting as she stumbled toward the bathroom to pee.
By the time she made her way to the kitchen, the smell of food was already wafting through the air. Maya was happily munching away at her food bowl, her tail wagging as she glanced up at Rosie, her eyes twinkling. Rosie smiled, giving Maya a gentle pat on the head before turning her attention to Katsuki.
He stood by the stove, his back to her as he cooked, his muscles flexing beneath his shirt as he moved. Her heart skipped a beat, warmth flooding her chest as she watched him, the sight of him in her kitchen, in her home, making breakfast for them both, filling her with a sense of happiness she never knew she needed.
Humming softly, she moved toward him, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind as she pressed her cheek against his back. He grunted, his body tensing for a moment before he relaxed, his hand reaching back to rest over hers.
“Smells good,” she murmured, her voice muffled against his shirt.
“Tch, course it does,” he huffed, his fingers giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I don’t do anything half-assed, Babydoll.”
She giggled, tightening her hold around him as she closed her eyes, content to stay like this forever. He was warm, solid, safe. And as she stood there, wrapped around him, she couldn’t help but think that mornings like this were her favorite.
Glancing at the time, Rosie realized it was already 2 p.m. She sighed softly. Reluctantly, she moved away from Katsuki, who was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed as he watched her with that familiar, intense gaze.
“Gotta finish cleaning up,” she murmured, giving him a small smile. “Don’t just stand there looking pretty.”
He scoffed, his lips curving into a smirk. “I always look pretty, Princess.”
Rolling her eyes, she grabbed the vacuum and began tidying up the living room, making sure everything was spotless. Katsuki’s presence was comforting, grounding, even when he was just lounging on her couch, scrolling through his phone. After putting away the last of the dishes, she wiped down the counters, giving one last satisfied nod before joining him on the couch.
He’d finished cooking, and the aroma of their meal still lingered in the air. They ate in comfortable silence, stealing glances at each other every now and then. There was no rush, no urgency—just a shared moment of quiet contentment.
When they finished eating, Rosie moved closer, her eyes softening as she crawled into Katsuki’s lap. She curled into him, resting her head against his shoulder, her arms wrapping around his neck as she sighed in contentment. His arms instinctively encircled her waist, holding her close as his chin rested atop her head.
“You’re clingy today,” he teased, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her back.
Her nose scrunched adorably as she looked up at him. “You showed up out of nowhere, what do you expect?”
“Tch, whatever.” But his hold on her tightened, his lips pressing a soft kiss to her temple.
Their lips met, slow and tender, a gentle exploration without the usual urgency or heat that often consumed them. It was different, softer, a sweetness that made Rosie’s heart ache. Her fingers tangled in his hair, her nails lightly scraping his scalp as she deepened the kiss, her body molding perfectly against his.
Katsuki’s thumb stroked her waist, his other hand cradling the back of her head as he kissed her slowly, thoroughly. It was warm, soothing, as if they had all the time in the world. When they finally pulled away, both were breathless, their noses brushing as they shared a soft smile.
Settling more comfortably into his lap, Rosie played with the collar of his shirt, her fingers tracing the fabric as she leaned into him. “This week’s gonna suck, huh?” she murmured, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness.
His brows furrowed. “Yeah… Midterms are gonna be a pain in the ass. And I’ve got that quirk checkup tomorrow, Tuesday, and Wednesday.” He sighed, his fingers absentmindedly running through her hair. “Thursday and Friday, I’ve got assignment missions. Gonna be partnered with other Pro’s.”
Rosie’s shoulders slumped, her fingers stilling as she looked up at him, her eyes softening. “You’ll be busy all week then…”
He clicked his tongue, his grip tightening. “Yeah, not to mention we got exams too, right?”
She nodded, her fingers brushing over his chest. “Yeah, I’ll be studying all week and working… I’ll probably be holed up here or at work.” She hesitated, biting her lip. “We won’t see each other much.”
His jaw clenched, the thought settling heavily between them. He hated it. Hated the idea of not being able to see her, touch her, hear her voice. But he knew they both had responsibilities, and they couldn’t always spend their days tangled up together.
Rosie must’ve sensed his frustration because she cupped his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones as she pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “We’ll survive, Katsuki. It’s just one week. We’ve got until you leave later, right?”
His eyes softened, a low grunt escaping him as he leaned into her touch. “Yeah… Guess we do.” His lips brushed over hers once more, savoring her warmth, her softness. “Still hate it though.”
She laughed, the sound like music to his ears. “You’re such a big baby.”
“Watch it, Babydoll,” he warned, but his lips were already twitching into a reluctant smile.
A playful blush colored her cheeks, her eyes shining as she looked up at him. “Or what?”
He growled lowly, his teeth grazing her bottom lip. “Or I’ll have you soaking those panties of yours.”
“Who says you haven’t already?” She teased back, growing a bit bold.
“Fuck.” He swore causing her to giggle as he just sighed.
They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, talking about their plans, sharing soft kisses, and simply enjoying the warmth and comfort of each other’s presence. It was calm, sweet, the kind of peaceful moment that Katsuki rarely allowed himself to have. But here, with her in his arms, he let himself be soft, vulnerable. He let himself adore her so openly.
Rosie woke to the gentle sensation of fingers combing through her hair, a soothing, repetitive motion that made her hum softly, eyes still closed. For a moment, she sank deeper into her pillow, basking in the tenderness, until her eyes snapped open, her heart jolting. Katsuki had gone home last night.
She bolted upright, eyes wide and wild, only to be met with a familiar, smug grin. “Shhh, it’s just me, doll,” Katsuki’s voice was low, a chuckle rumbling from his chest. He was leaning against her headboard, his arm resting casually behind his head as his other hand continued to toy with her hair.
“You scared me,” she pouted, her shoulders visibly relaxing as she took in his appearance—his tousled blond hair, his sharp red eyes, and the slight smirk playing on his lips. “How did you get in? And why are you here so early?” She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. It was just past five a.m.
“I needed to see your pretty face before I left,” he drawled, his fingers tracing the curve of her cheek before brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “And I got in through the balcony. You should really lock that, by the way.”
Rosie snorted, crossing her arms. “I live on the seventh floor, Katsuki.” But her expression softened as she remembered something. “I got you a key to my place. I was gonna give it to you this weekend, but it’s on my desk. Grab it on your way out.”
His eyes widened, just for a moment, before his signature cocky grin returned. “Gettin’ real serious, huh?” But there was a warmth in his gaze, a softness that made her heart skip a beat.
She huffed, her cheeks flushing as she grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking him down onto the mattress. He let out a grunt of surprise, his body falling over hers, his arms caging her in as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You showed up unannounced at five in the morning. You deserve to be punished for scaring me.”
His laughter was low, his breath hot against her ear. “Yeah? And what’re you gonna do, doll?”
She didn’t answer, not with words. Instead, she pulled his mouth to hers, her lips soft and warm as they moved against his. He responded instantly, his lips parting as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing hers in a rhythm that left her breathless. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, needing more of him, all of him.
He tasted like caramel and smoke, his scent intoxicating as it surrounded her, made her feel safe, warm. She moaned softly, her body arching into his as his hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. His touch was possessive, his hold firm as he pressed her deeper into the mattress, his body molding to hers perfectly.
“What a needy little girlfriend I have,” he teased, his lips trailing down her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse before he soothed the mark with his tongue. Her breath hitched, her fingers tightening in his hair as she whimpered beneath him.
“Katsuki…” she whispered, her voice breathy, pleading.
His eyes were dark, his gaze heated as he looked down at her, his fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt, his touch hot against her bare skin. “How long do you have until you have to leave?” she asked, her voice trembling as she met his gaze.
He glanced at the clock on her nightstand, his lips curving into that dangerous smirk she loved. “Twenty minutes.”
Her eyes brightened, her legs wrapping around his waist as she pulled him closer. “What can we do in those twenty minutes?”
His smirk widened, his fingers sliding up her shirt as he leaned down, his lips brushing hers as he whispered, “Why tell when I can just show you?”
And then he kissed her, hard and deep, his body pressing into hers as his hands explored her curves, his touch setting her skin on fire. She melted beneath him, her body molding to his as she surrendered herself to him completely. Twenty minutes didn’t feel like nearly enough time. But Rosie was never one to back down from a challenge.
Flipping over, Rosie straddled his waist. Sitting up she stared down at him, chest heaving as she attempted to breathe properly again.
“I want to try again,” she murmured with a blush. “Being on top that is.”
Katsuki’s hands flew to her hips, his grip firm but gentle as he adjusted her, his fingers splaying over her soft skin. His eyes were dark, hungry as they roamed over her body, his lips parted, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he looked up at her, completely at her mercy.
“Go for it, doll,” he rasped, his voice rough, raw with need. His thumbs stroked her skin, urging her on, his eyes never leaving hers as she began to move.
Rosie’s blush deepened, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she hesitated, her body trembling with anticipation. But his gaze was so intense, so unwavering, that it gave her the courage she needed. Slowly, she began to roll her hips, her movements unsure at first, her body experimenting with the new position.
A soft whimper escaped her lips as she felt the friction, her head falling back as her hips moved against his, her body instinctively seeking out that delicious pressure. Katsuki’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into her skin as a deep, guttural groan rumbled in his chest.
“Fuck, Rosie…” he breathed, his head falling back against the pillows, his eyes squeezing shut as she moved against him, her hips grinding in slow, tantalizing circles. His jaw clenched, his muscles tensing beneath her as his body responded to her every movement, his resolve crumbling with every roll of her hips.
She whimpered, her hands pressing against his chest for balance as she moved faster, her body growing bolder as she chased that friction, that heat. Her thighs trembled, her back arching as she rocked against his large bulge as it rubbed against her clit, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps.
Katsuki’s eyes flew open, his gaze locking onto hers, the raw desire in his crimson eyes making her stomach flip. “You’re doin’ so good, Babydoll,” he praised, his voice strained, his hands guiding her hips, helping her find her rhythm. “Fuck… just like that. Keep goin’.”
His words spurred her on, her confidence growing as she moved faster, her hips grinding down against him, her body rolling with an intoxicating rhythm that left him breathless. Her name tumbled from his lips, a broken groan that sent shivers down her spine, her heart racing as she watched him come undone beneath her.
She was driving him crazy, his body responding to her every movement, his self-control hanging by a thread as she continued to move against him, her hips rolling and grinding in a way that was pure torture. His grip on her tightened, his fingers digging into her soft skin as his head fell back, his lips parting as he let out a deep, guttural moan.
“Rosie… fuck, you’re killin’ me, doll,” he groaned, his voice rough, desperate. “So fuckin’ perfect… you feel so good.” His hands slid up her thighs, gripping her waist as he guided her movements, his body moving in sync with hers, their rhythm perfectly matched.
Her moans grew louder, more desperate as she moved faster, her body grinding against his, her hips rolling in perfect circles as she chased that friction, that delicious pressure building inside her. Katsuki’s name spilled from her lips, a broken, breathless whisper that sent his heart racing, his chest tightening as he watched her fall apart above him.
“You’re so beautiful, Babydoll,” he murmured, his eyes locked onto hers, his voice raw with emotion. “So fuckin’ gorgeous… drivin’ me insane.”
Her heart skipped a beat, her cheeks flushing as she took in his words, the intensity in his gaze making her feel vulnerable, exposed. But she didn’t look away, her eyes locked onto his as she continued to move, her body trembling with need, her breaths coming in short, desperate gasps.
Katsuki’s hands slid up her body, his fingers tracing her curves, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. “That’s it… just like that, Rosie. You’re doin’ so good, baby.” His praise was soft, sweet, his voice dripping with affection, his eyes never leaving hers as he watched her fall apart above him, her body moving perfectly with his.
Her name tumbled from his lips again, his voice rough, needy as he bucked his hips up to meet hers, his body responding to her every movement, his resolve crumbling with every roll of her hips. “Fuck… I adore you, Babydoll,” he confessed, his voice raw, honest. “I fucking adore the shit out of you so fuckin’ much.”
Her heart swelled, her eyes widening as his words sank in, her body stilling for a moment as she looked down at him, her lips parting in surprise. “Kats…” she whimpered, her voice trembling as her hands rested on his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath her palms.
His eyes softened for just a moment, the barest flicker of tenderness breaking through the hunger that burned in his gaze. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as his hands gripped her waist, his fingers digging into her soft skin. “So damn beautiful… so perfect for me.”
Her face flushed, her lips quivering as his words sank deep, wrapping around her heart and squeezing tight. “Katsuki…” she whispered, her body trembling as his grip tightened, his hips rolling up against hers, sending a white-hot jolt of pleasure through her core.
“That’s it, Babydoll,” he rasped, his eyes locked on hers, his pupils blown wide with need. “Just like that… so good for me.” His hands slid up her waist, his thumbs brushing over her ribs, memorizing every curve, every dip of her body as she moved above him, her body so perfectly in sync with his. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect… you know that?”
Her cheeks burned, her breath hitching as she felt his hands worshipping her, his words wrapping around her like a warm blanket. “Katsuki… I…” Her voice faltered, her chest tightening as her heart raced, his name leaving her lips in a breathy whisper.
He smirked, his hands guiding her movements, his hips meeting hers as he gritted his teeth, fighting to keep his control. “C’mon, Babydoll… one more time for me,” he coaxed, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine. “Wanna see you fall apart again… wanna see that pretty face when you can’t take it anymore.”
Her head fell back, her hair cascading over her shoulders as his words sent a wave of heat flooding through her, her nails digging into his chest as she obeyed his command, her body moving on its own, chasing the high only he could give her.
“Yeah… that’s it,” Katsuki praised, his eyes never leaving her face, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he watched her, completely mesmerized. “So damn beautiful… you’re doing such a good job, you know that right doll?”
Her eyes fluttered open, her gaze locking with his as she leaned down, her lips brushing against his, her breath mingling with his as she whispered, “Kats….you feel so good…”
His control snapped, his hands tightening on her waist as he surged up, capturing her lips in a searing, possessive kiss. “I’m right here, Babydoll,” he growled, his voice low and fierce as he held her close, his body moving in perfect rhythm with hers. “Such a good girl for me.”
Her name left his lips in a ragged groan, his fingers digging into her skin as he fought to hold back, to savor this moment, to memorize the way she looked, the way she felt, the way she sounded as she came undone in his arms. “One more time… just for me,” he whispered, his voice a gentle plea as his eyes softened, his heart swelling as he watched her fall apart, his name leaving her lips in a broken, whimpering cry.
“Yeah… just like that,” he murmured, his lips brushing over her temple as he held her close, his hands gripping her hips to guide her movements. Her body moved against him perfectly, her softness pressing against his hard muscles, her scent filling his senses, making his head spin.
With a growl, Katsuki flipped them over, pinning her beneath him as he stared down at her, his crimson eyes dark with desire. “So fuckin’ perfect…” His voice was rough, strained as he thrust against her, his hips grinding into hers, feeling the heat of her drenched panties through the fabric of his jeans.
Her name left his lips in a broken groan, his head falling into the crook of her neck as his body shuddered. He could feel the tightness in his jeans growing unbearable, his cock straining painfully against the fabric. Her hands slid up his back, her nails digging into his shoulders, her breathy moans in his ear driving him crazy.
His hips moved on their own, his body seeking hers, pressing deeper against her warmth as his name tumbled from her lips. He could feel himself reaching his limit, his muscles tensing, his breath hitching as he buried his face in her hair, his body trembling.
“Rosie…” he choked out, his voice strained as his body jerked against hers. His hips ground against her one last time before his vision blurred, his body shuddering as he came, his cock throbbing as he spilled himself in his pants, his grip on her tightening.
Katsuki’s face was flushed, his breathing heavy as he tried to catch his breath, his chest pressed against hers. Rosie’s giggle broke the silence, her fingers threading through his messy hair as she looked up at him, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Did you just…?”
He groaned, dropping his head to bury his face in her neck. “Shut up…” he grumbled, his voice muffled against her skin as his arms tightened around her. “You’re too fuckin’ much, Babydoll.”
Rosie’s laughter grew louder, her whole body shaking beneath him. “I can’t believe it… Mr. Big Bad future Pro Hero… Katsuki Bakugou—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Katsuki growled, his face still hidden as she continued to laugh, her fingers playfully tracing circles on his back.
She grinned, unable to resist. “—creamed his pant—”
That did it. Katsuki’s head shot up, his eyes blazing as he glared down at her. “You’re askin’ for it, Princess.” She squeaked, her eyes widening as she tried to push him off, but he was too fast. Katsuki’s hands pinned her wrists above her head, his body pressing hers into the mattress as he grinned down at her, his eyes gleaming wickedly. “You think you’re funny, huh?”
Her laughter only grew, her legs kicking as she tried to wriggle free. “K-Katsuki! Stop!”
He leaned down, his nose brushing against hers, his breath warm on her lips. “Not a chance.” And then he attacked, his lips pressing quick, playful kisses all over her face—her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, her chin—moving so fast she couldn’t escape.
“Katsuki!” Rosie shrieked, her body writhing beneath him as she laughed uncontrollably, her legs thrashing as she tried to squirm away. “Stop! I’m— I’m sorry!”
“Oh, now you’re sorry?” He teased, his lips brushing against her ear as he continued his relentless assault, his hands holding her in place. “You seemed real confident a minute ago, Babydoll.”
Rosie’s laughter echoed through the room, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to catch her breath. “Okay, okay! I take it back! You’re amazing! The best I’ve ever had!”
Katsuki pulled back, his eyes narrowing playfully as he looked down at her flushed, tear-streaked face. “Damn right I am.”
She grinned up at him, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. “Cocky jerk…”
His grin widened. “You love it.”
She huffed, her lips curving into a pout as she turned her head away. “Maybe…”
Katsuki’s eyes softened, his grip on her wrists loosening as he leaned down, pressing his lips to her cheek in a gentle, lingering kiss. “Yeah, well… I like you too, Babydoll.”
Rosie’s eyes widened, her cheeks turning pink as she looked up at him, her expression softening. “You do?”
Katsuki’s face turned red, his eyes darting away as he scratched the back of his neck. “Don’t make me say it again.”
Rosie giggled, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled him down, her lips brushing against his. “I won’t… but I’ll never forget you said it.”
His face flushed even deeper, his lips crashing down on hers to shut her up before she could tease him any more. And as their laughter faded into soft whispers and stolen kisses, Katsuki couldn’t help but think that maybe… just maybe… she was worth all the teasing in the world.
“I like you,” she murmured
He snorted, “I’d hope so after what we just did.”
Her eyes went wide, embarrassed and flustered. “Katsuki!”
Chuckling, he stared at her, his heart skipped a beat, his chest tightening as he lifted his head, his eyes locking with hers. “I really like you too, Babydoll,” he rasped, his voice rough as he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “More than you know.”
She smiled up at him, her eyes warm as she snuggled into his chest, her fingers tracing circles on his back. Katsuki’s arms tightened around her, his chin resting on top of her head as he closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of her body pressed against his, her scent enveloping him.
The peaceful moment was interrupted by the shrill ring of his alarm, the sound echoing through the room. Rosie pouted, her lips curving into a playful frown as she looked up at him. “Do you really have to go?”
Katsuki chuckled, his hand brushing her hair out of her face as he pressed another kiss to her forehead. “Yeah… I need to change before I leave,” he muttered, as he glanced down at his jeans, now uncomfortably sticky. “You should go back to bed, Babydoll.”
She pouted again, her arms tightening around his neck. “But I don’t wanna let you go…”
His heart softened, his fingers brushing along her jaw as he leaned down, capturing her lips in one last, lingering kiss. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he promised, his voice soft, sincere. “And then you’re not gettin’ rid of me.”
Rosie smiled, her eyes heavy with sleep as she snuggled back into the pillows, her body curling up where he had been laying, her scent clinging to him as he stood up, reluctantly letting go. Katsuki’s eyes lingered on her, his heart aching as he watched her drift off, her soft breaths filling the room.
Kissing her forehead, then her nose, and then her lips. “I fucking adore you, babydoll.”
With one last look, he turned away, his fingers brushing over his phone as he silenced the alarm and picked up the key, his heart heavy as he headed to the bathroom to change, his mind already counting down the hours until he could hold her again.
Notes:
I love writing this chapter<3 by far one of my favorites but I don't think that means much since I love all these chapters and the six chapters that I have already written ahead as I wanted to make sure you guys got your updates despite me having mid terms this week and next week<3 thank you for all the support and I hope to hear what you guys think:)
Chapter 48: God, she was so hopelessly infatuated with him.
Notes:
Sorry for the late update, I drove home from uni for the weekend and went straight to bed and only just woke up an hour ago and completely forgot that I hadn't updated my stories<3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie let out a weary sigh, stepping out of the employee’s room and back behind the counter. The warm, comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the faint chatter of students huddled around tables, textbooks spread out in front of them. It was midterm season at U.A., and Ishlamare was bustling with exhausted students in desperate need of caffeine and a place to cram in some last-minute studying.
She had three more hours to go. It was only seven, and her shift didn’t end until ten. The thought alone made her shoulders slump. At least Kanako and Shinso were here, helping her with the constant wave of orders. Kanako was in the kitchen, sitting at the small employee table with her notes spread out before her, attempting to balance studying and working at the same time. Rosie had planned on doing the same, but it was proving difficult.
Sitting behind the counter, she propped her elbow on the countertop, her chin resting on her palm as she flipped through her notes. Her eyelids felt heavy, her brain struggling to retain any information. It didn’t help that students kept popping in every few minutes, placing to-go orders that she hurriedly scribbled down and handed off to Kanako.
The bell above the door chimed, and she instinctively looked up, offering a tired smile to the group of students who walked in. They quickly glanced at the menu before deciding to come back later, the door swinging shut behind them. Rosie let out a small sigh of relief, thankful for a brief moment of peace.
A voice broke through her thoughts. “You wanna take your break?”
Rosie glanced up, meeting Shinso’s tired eyes as he leaned against the doorframe leading to the back. His hair was slightly messy, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he wiped his hands on his apron.
She shook her head, giving him a small smile. “I’m good. If you need a break, go ahead. I can handle things out here.”
He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the floor before looking back at her. There was still that awkward tension lingering between them, the kind that made conversations feel stilted and uncomfortable. It wasn’t on her side; she had long since forgiven him, especially after what happened with her father. It was clear he was still wrestling with his guilt, though, and it made her chest ache just thinking about it.
After her father had ambushed her, she had confronted Shinso, her voice trembling as she told him about her Dad overhearing him talk about his confession. She remembered the way his face had fallen, his eyes widening in shock and shame. He had apologized profusely, his voice raw and broken as he admitted that he never meant to bring her trouble. She could see how much it weighed on him, how his shoulders sagged as if the guilt was physically crushing him.
Even now, as he stood before her, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his apron, he looked uncomfortable, his gaze flickering between her and the floor. She hated it. She hated the distance that had grown between them, how they danced around each other, careful not to say the wrong thing. She missed how easy it used to be, how they could joke and laugh without this heavy cloud hanging over them.
Shinso cleared his throat, his voice low. “I don’t need a break. Just… figured you might want one.”
Rosie offered him a small, reassuring smile. “I’m okay, really. Besides, Kanako’s in the back studying, so it’s just us out here.” She shrugged, her eyes softening. “I’d feel bad leaving you alone with the evening rush.”
His shoulders relaxed, and a faint, grateful smile appeared on his lips. “Alright. But if you change your mind, just let me know.”
“I will,” she promised, her eyes lingering on him as he moved to restock the coffee cups. There was still that awkwardness, but at least they were talking. It was a step in the right direction, and for now, that was enough.
She returned to her notes, her pen tapping lightly against the paper as she tried to focus. But her mind kept drifting, replaying that look on Shinso’s face when she told him about her father. She could still hear his voice, the way it had wavered when he whispered, “I’m so sorry, Rosie.”
She let out a slow breath, her heart heavy. Maybe one day things would go back to normal between them. She just hoped that day would come sooner rather than later.
Rosie leaned against the counter, her fingers scrolling through her text messages with Katsuki. Her chest tightened as she stared at the screen, the familiar butterflies swirling in her stomach. She hadn’t heard from him since lunch, and she couldn’t help but reread their brief conversation.
Rosie: I hope you’ve had a great morning so far!
Pomchi: A better afternoon since you texted me.
Rosie: I share that sentiment.
Pomchi: Fuck, you’re adorable. Have to go, doll, talk to you later.
Rosie: Have fun!
A small, dreamy smile played on her lips as her thumb hovered over the keyboard, tempted to send him another message. She missed him. She missed his voice, his scowl, his laugh. God, she was so hopelessly infatuated with him.
The bell above the door chimed, pulling her out of her thoughts. She looked up just in time to see Riku stroll in, his hair slightly tousled, his usual confident smirk in place. He wore his usual button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his toned forearms.
“Hey, Rosie,” he greeted, his eyes lighting up as he approached the counter. “The usual?”
She quickly shoved her phone back into her apron, her warm smile brightening her face. “You got it! One iced caramel macchiato coming right up!” She turned to call out the order, but before she could, Shinso appeared from the back, his eyes narrowing as he noticed Riku.
“I got it,” Shinso said, his voice cool as he moved past her, his gaze lingering on Riku for a moment longer than necessary. “Kanako needs help in the kitchen anyway.”
“Oh, okay!” Rosie nodded, completely oblivious to the tension between the two men. “I’ll go help her out, then.” She flashed Riku another smile. “Your drink will be out in just a sec!”
Riku’s expression faltered, his jaw tightening as his eyes flicked to Shinso, a barely concealed glare in his gaze. “Thanks, Rosie.” His voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it, one that Rosie completely missed as she turned and disappeared into the back.
Shinso’s eyes followed her, his shoulders relaxing just slightly once she was out of earshot. His violet eyes shifted back to Riku, his usual lazy demeanor replaced with something far more serious. Riku’s lips curled into a bitter smirk, his arms crossing over his chest.
“Problem?” Riku asked, his voice low, challenging.
Shinso didn’t answer at first, his eyes cold and calculating as he moved to make the drink. “Yeah,” he finally said, his voice flat. “You.”
Riku’s smile faltered, his eyes narrowing. But before he could respond, Shinso turned his back on him, clearly dismissing the conversation as he focused on making the drink.
Meanwhile, Rosie made her way into the kitchen, her smile fading as she found Kanako standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by crumpled papers, her hair a mess and her eyes watery. Kanako’s hands were clenched at her sides, her shoulders trembling as she stared at the scattered notes.
“Kanako?” Rosie’s voice was soft, worried as she approached her friend. “Are you okay?”
Kanako sniffed, wiping her eyes quickly as she forced a weak smile. “I… I just can’t get it right,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’ve tried everything and I just still can’t grasp the concept.”
Rosie’s heart ached as she watched Kanako’s shoulders slump, the frustration and exhaustion radiating off her in waves. Without another word, Rosie wrapped her arms around Kanako, hugging her tightly. “It’s okay,” she murmured, her voice gentle. “We’ll figure it out together. I’ll help you.”
Kanako’s breath hitched, her hands shaking as she clung to Rosie. “I just… I don’t want to fail,” she choked out. “I don’t want to let anyone down.”
Rosie pulled back just enough to look at her, her hands resting on Kanako’s shoulders as she gave her a reassuring smile. “You won’t. We believe in you, Kanako.”
Kanako’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her lips trembling as she nodded, a tiny, hopeful smile breaking through. “Thanks, Rosie… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Rosie grinned, giving her shoulders a playful squeeze. “Well, lucky for you, you won’t have to find out!” She bent down, gathering up the crumpled papers and handing them back to Kanako. “Now, let’s get back to work. We’ve got this.”
Rosie’s eyes burned as she stared at her notes, the words blurring together as she fought to keep them in focus. Her laptop screen was dim, her room dark except for the soft glow from her desk lamp. She checked the time: 6:42 a.m. She had been up all night, reviewing every line, every date, every battle that might appear on the exam. Her hands trembled slightly as she sipped the last of her coffee, the bitter taste lingering on her tongue.
Her body screamed for rest, her eyelids heavy, but she knew if she closed her eyes, she’d be out cold. And she couldn’t risk missing this exam. Her father wouldn’t let her hear the end of it if she failed.
Groaning, she stood up, her legs stiff from sitting for so long. She grabbed her bag, shoving her notes inside before heading to the bathroom to wash her face. Cold water splashed against her skin, waking her up just enough to drag herself out the door and to campus.
The classroom was half full when she arrived, the other half of the class away at the quirk checkup. She found a seat near the back, her head throbbing as she took out her pen, her eyes blinking rapidly to clear the fog. Her father stood at the front, his expression soft as he handed out the exams.
“Good luck sunshine,” he muttered as he placed her paper on her desk, his eyes lingering for a moment before he moved on. She managed a small nod, her fingers tightening around her pen as she began.
The questions were brutal, each one requiring more focus than she could muster. Her mind felt sluggish, her thoughts jumbled, but she forced herself to push through, her pen scratching against the paper as she wrote down every historical date she could remember.
By the time she handed in her exam, her body felt like lead. She wanted nothing more than to go home, collapse on her bed, and sleep for the next twenty-four hours. But she couldn’t. She had work.
Dragging herself to the café, she stumbled inside, the familiar scent of coffee overwhelming her senses. The place was packed, every table occupied, the line stretching out the door. Shinso was at the register, his usual bored expression in place as he took orders. Yui was behind the counter, her movements swift and efficient, while Limaria balanced three trays at once, weaving through the crowded tables with ease.
Rosie forced a smile as she clocked in, tying her apron around her waist as she joined Yui behind the counter. “Busy day, huh?” she muttered, her voice hoarse.
Yui glanced at her, her eyes widening slightly. “You look terrible. Did you sleep at all?”
“Nope,” Rosie admitted, reaching for a pot of coffee. “Stayed up all night studying, took my exam, and now I’m here.” She poured herself a cup, not bothering with sugar or cream before taking a long sip. The bitter taste burned her throat, but she needed the caffeine.
The day was a blur of orders, noise, and exhaustion. She moved on autopilot, her feet aching as she darted between the counter and the tables, her arms growing heavy as she carried tray after tray. She lost count of how many cups of coffee she drank, each one giving her a small burst of energy before she crashed even harder.
The headaches started around noon, a dull throb at the base of her skull that grew sharper as the hours passed. Her stomach churned, the acidic coffee gnawing at her insides, but she ignored it, forcing herself to keep moving.
By the time the clock hit 9 p.m., her vision was swimming, her hands trembling as she made yet another latte. Her heart raced, her breaths coming out shallow as she leaned against the counter, her head spinning.
“Rosie?” Shinso’s voice broke through the haze, his eyes narrowing as he watched her. “You okay?”
She forced a smile, her lips cracking. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”
He didn’t look convinced, his eyes lingering on her pale face before he turned back to the customer. She exhaled slowly, wiping her sweaty palms on her apron as she took another sip of coffee, the liquid cold and bitter as it slid down her throat.
Just a few more hours, she told herself. Just a few more hours, and she could go home. She could collapse in her bed and sleep until her body gave out. But for now, she had to keep going. She had to keep moving, keep smiling, keep serving.
No matter how much her body begged her to stop.
But fuck she still had her chemistry, math, and english exams to study for. God, she just wanted to sleep and see Katsuki. She hadn’t seen him since yesterday morning when he snuck into her apartment. He had texted her last night, but it was a quick goodnight and then he texted her good morning but she didn’t see it until she charged her phone during lunch considering it died this morning.
She didn’t hear from him during lunch like she wanted and she was really missing him at this point.
Rosie’s nose was buried in her notes, her eyes scanning the pages as she nibbled on a cracker, the crumbs falling to the ground as she shuffled down the sidewalk. Her headphones were snug in her ears, playing some soft lo-fi music to keep her focused as she took a large gulp of her coffee, barely noticing how it burned her throat.
Her eyes were heavy, dark circles under them as she coughed into her arm, her body shaking from exhaustion. She hadn’t slept much in the past few days, her mind racing with formulas and definitions, cramming as much as she could before the midterm. Her hands were trembling, probably from the caffeine overdose, but she ignored it, her mind too busy flipping through her mental flashcards.
She didn’t even notice the man and his dog until she slammed right into him, her papers flying everywhere as her coffee nearly slipped from her fingers. Her headphones were yanked from her ears, the wire tangling with her notes as she stumbled back, wide-eyed.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” Rosie sputtered, her face flushing as she looked up at him. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
Riku blinked in surprise before his expression softened, his dog wagging its tail excitedly at the new person. “No worries. You okay?” He reached down, picking up one of her papers before his eyes flicked back to her face. “You don’t look so good, Rosie.”
She let out a nervous laugh, quickly stuffing her notes into her bag. “Oh, I’m fine! Just… a bit tired, that’s all.” She took a hurried sip of her coffee, as if to prove her point, but ended up coughing, her body trembling from the force of it.
Riku frowned, his eyes narrowing. “Have you been getting enough sleep?”
“Yeah, totally! Just… busy with midterms, you know?” She waved it off, forcing a smile. “Anyway, I gotta go. I’m meeting up with a friend before class.”
His brows furrowed, his hand still holding one of her notes. “I can drive you. It’s on my way, and you look like you could use the break.”
“Oh, no, no, no! That’s okay! I like walking. Clears my head.” She forced out a laugh, her heart racing as she took the paper from his hand, stuffing it into her bag. “Thanks, though!”
Before he could protest, she turned on her heel, her legs moving as quickly as they could without breaking into a full sprint. She could feel his eyes on her as she hurried down the sidewalk, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to steady her breathing.
She didn’t dare look back, not noticing how he watched her until she disappeared around the corner, his dog wagging its tail as Riku’s eyes lingered on the direction she went. With a sigh, he continued his walk, his steps carrying him straight toward the building she had left.
Rosie wrapped her arms around herself as she walked down the dimly lit street, her footsteps echoing off the pavement. Her head was pounding, her body achy, and her throat felt raw from all the coughing. She sniffled, her nose stuffy as she shivered, the cold night air biting at her skin despite the layers she wore.
She felt both hot and cold at the same time, her body burning up one moment and then covered in chills the next. Her chemistry exam had taken everything out of her, her brain still buzzing from the formulas and equations she had crammed into her head. But at least it was over. She could finally relax and sleep in tomorrow.
Another sneeze wracked her body, and she swayed on her feet, her vision blurring for a moment as she stumbled forward. She shook her head, blinking rapidly as she tried to focus, her steps faltering. She just needed to get home, take some medicine, and sleep this off. She’d be fine by tomorrow.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she fumbled for it, her hands trembling as she pulled it out. It was a text from Katsuki.
Pomchi: You home yet?
She smiled softly, her heart fluttering as she typed back a quick reply.
Rosie: Almost. Just a few more blocks. Miss you.
Pomchi: I fucking miss you doll
Rosie: Then come see me
She hit send, her fingers stiff as she slid her phone back into her pocket. She shivered again, her teeth chattering as she wrapped her arms tighter around herself, her pace quickening as she focused on the warmth of her apartment waiting for her.
But then she heard it. The soft, steady sound of footsteps behind her, matching her pace.
Her heart skipped a beat, her body tensing as she glanced over her shoulder. There was no one there. Just shadows and the flickering streetlights. She let out a shaky breath, her lips curving into a weak smile. She was just being paranoid. She was exhausted, sick, and her mind was playing tricks on her. That was all.
She continued walking, forcing herself to focus on the familiar path home. But the feeling wouldn’t go away. That prickling sensation at the back of her neck, that uncomfortable awareness that someone was watching her. Following her.
Rosie shook her head, laughing weakly to herself. She was just tired. She needed sleep. She was letting her imagination run wild.
But her heart wouldn’t stop racing, her footsteps growing faster as she reached her apartment building. Her hands shook as she unlocked the door, her eyes darting around as she stepped inside, slamming the door shut behind her.
She leaned against the door, her body sliding down to the floor as she tried to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding, her body trembling as she hugged her knees to her chest.
She was safe. She was home. No one was following her.
But she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had been there. Watching her. Following her.
And she couldn’t help but wonder if she was really just imagining it.
Rosie sat at the large study table in the library, surrounded by her friends. Momo was diligently taking notes, Mina’s head was bent over her textbook, her highlighter cap between her teeth as she scanned the page. Uraraka tapped her pencil against her notebook, her brows furrowed in concentration, while Toru hummed softly, her invisible hand flipping through flashcards. Tsui was quietly reading.
Rosie tried her best to focus, her eyes glued to her open notebook, but the words kept blurring together. Her throat felt scratchy, and her head was heavy, a dull ache throbbing behind her eyes. She suppressed another cough, her body trembling as she held it in. Her nose tingled, a sneeze threatening to escape, but she sniffled, willing it away. The last thing she wanted was to worry her friends.
“You okay, Rosie?” Momo’s gentle voice cut through her thoughts, her dark eyes watching Rosie with concern. “You look a bit pale.”
Rosie forced a smile, waving her hand dismissively. “I’m fine, just a little tired. Just worked late.”
“Are you sure?” Uraraka leaned closer, her brows knitted with worry. “You’ve been awfully quiet today… and you’ve barely touched your water.”
“I’m good, really,” Rosie insisted, her voice coming out weaker than she intended. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to sit up straighter. “I just really need to catch up on this chapter. I’ll be fine.”
Mina gave her a skeptical look, her eyes narrowing. “If you say so… but if you’re feeling sick, don’t push yourself too hard, okay?”
“Yeah, Ribbit,” Tsui added, her wide eyes studying Rosie. “You should rest if you’re not feeling well.”
“I promise, I’m okay.” Rosie’s smile wavered, her head pounding as she looked back at her notes. Her vision blurred again, the words swimming on the page. Her chest felt heavy, and it took all her strength not to let out a cough that clawed at her throat.
The girls eventually returned to their studies, though they continued to steal glances at Rosie, their eyes lingering on her pale face and tired eyes. Rosie gripped her pen tightly, her fingers trembling as she underlined another sentence, her handwriting uneven and shaky.
The hours dragged on, her body growing heavier as she forced herself to keep going, her focus slipping as her fever rose. Finally, as the sun began to set outside, the girls started to pack up, saying their goodbyes and making plans for the next study session.
Rosie gathered her things, her movements sluggish as she stuffed her books into her bag. Her legs wobbled as she stood, a wave of dizziness washing over her, but she gritted her teeth, refusing to let herself collapse in front of her friends. She plastered another smile on her face, waving goodbye as she made her way out of the library.
The walk home was a blur, her vision tunneling as she trudged along the sidewalk, her body swaying as she struggled to stay upright. The cold air nipped at her skin, but her fever burned hotter, sweat beading on her forehead as she stumbled up the stairs to her apartment.
Her fingers trembled as she fumbled with her keys, her limbs heavy as she leaned against the door, her body sagging in exhaustion. Her chest ached, her throat raw as she coughed, her vision darkening at the edges. She slid down the door, her back hitting the wood as her legs gave out beneath her.
“I’ll… just sit for a minute…” she murmured, her head lolling to the side as her eyes fluttered shut, her body slumping against the doorframe. Her bag slipped from her shoulder, falling to the floor with a soft thud as her breathing slowed, her fevered body finally giving in to exhaustion.
The hallway was quiet, the dim light casting shadows over her unconscious form as she lay crumpled on the floor, her face pale, her breaths shallow.
Notes:
I hope you enjoyed the chapter<3 drop a kudos or a comment :)
Chapter 49: Because he was going to be the perfect boyfriend.
Notes:
Sorry for the late update, I spent all day working on the first part of this fic!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki’s palm slammed into the training dummy, a powerful explosion echoing through the arena as smoke and debris scattered. His teeth were clenched, his eyes blazing as he launched himself at the next target, his body moving with fierce precision. Another explosion, louder this time, sent shards of metal flying, embedding into the walls.
“Damn it!” he snarled, his fists crackling with energy as he charged forward again. His movements were sharp, erratic, each punch landing harder than the last, his growls echoing through the space.
“Oi, Bakugo! Calm down!” Sero yelled from the sidelines, his eyes wide as he watched the rampage. “You’re gonna blow the place up!”
“Shut the hell up!” Katsuki snapped, his eyes flashing as he aimed a blast at another dummy, the metal frame shattering upon impact. His chest was heaving, sweat dripping down his brow as he glared at the wreckage, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt.
“What the hell is his problem today?” Kaminari muttered, leaning closer to Kirishima. “He’s more on edge than usual.”
Kirishima sighed, his eyes following Katsuki as he continued his assault on the training equipment. “He’s just… frustrated.”
“Frustrated?” Kaminari echoed, raising an eyebrow. “With what?”
Kirishima crossed his arms, his gaze softening as he watched his best friend. “Just some personal stuff.” He lied
Kaminari’s eyes widened, “think the therapy didn’t work?”
Kirishima snorted. “No idea.”
The truth of it was that Katsuki hadn’t seen Rosie since Monday morning, it was currently Wednesday and he hardly talked to over and when he did, it wasn’t enough. Kirishima understood, when Mina and him started going out, all he wanted was to be with her and now Katsuki was going through withdrawn and everyone was having to feel it without even knowing why since their relationship was a secret.
Katsuki’s voice cut through the air, harsh and cold. “You idiots done gossiping?” He was standing in front of them now, his arms crossed, his expression thunderous. “Get back to training before I blow you both to hell.”
“Chill, man,” Kirishima laughed, unfazed by the threat. “We’re getting back to it.” He clapped Katsuki on the shoulder, his grin never faltering before whispering to where only he could hear. “You gonna survive another day without her, bro?”
Katsuki’s eyes flicked away, his scowl deepening. “Shut up. I’m fine.” But his fists were still clenched, his shoulders tense as he turned away.
He wasn’t fine. He was restless, agitated, his thoughts consumed by her. It had only been two days, but it felt like a lifetime. Her smile, her voice, the way she looked at him… he missed all of it. He missed her.
And it pissed him off.
He launched himself at another dummy, his body moving on autopilot as his explosions grew louder, more destructive. Each blast was a reminder of how far away she was, how much he wanted to see her, touch her, hear her voice in person.
Damn it, he was losing his mind.
From above, Hawks watched the scene unfold, his arms crossed as he leaned against the railing, his golden eyes sharp. “That kid’s a damn powder keg today,” he muttered, his wings shifting behind him.
Beside him, one of the commission board members nodded, her gaze cautious. “He’s always been intense, but today’s different… You think he’s okay?”
Hawks’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. “He’s fine. Just lovesick.”
The board member blinked, her eyebrows shooting up. “Bakugo? Lovesick?”
“Yeah,” Hawks chuckled, his wings stretching as he glanced down at the explosive blonde tearing through another target. “And it’s driving him absolutely crazy.”
Hawks knew about the secret relationship between Bakugou and Rosie. How? He had seen the way that Bakugou had glared at him all night, had kept his distance and glowered at him. Plus, he had seen them come out of the women's bathroom that night at Silven’s at Eraserheads party. While he did want a shot with her, he could already tell that she only had eyes for the blonde and while Hawks was older and experienced, that kid had fucking tenacity that he was not willing to go head to head with. But didn’t mean that he wouldn’t enjoy irritating him by flirting with her occasionally.
“With who?” The board member asked, “I don’t remember seeing that in his paperwork.”
“It’s on a need to know basis,” Hawks clipped, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants.
Who was he to get in between young first love?
Katsuki stood rigid, his back pressed against the cold wall of the agency locker room, his hero costume clinging to his body, soaked in sweat from the grueling day he’d had. His chest heaved, muscles tense, his fingers gripping his phone tightly as his eyes remained locked on the screen.
A photo of Rosie smiled back at him, her pink hair cascading down her shoulders as she grinned, wearing that short pink dress he loved so much. The sunlight had caught her eyes perfectly, making them sparkle as she looked at him, her smile warm and radiant.
But beneath that photo was nothing. No new messages. No ‘I’m home’ text. No silly selfies. No updates about her day.
Nothing.
His jaw clenched, frustration bubbling up as he checked the time again. It was well past midnight, and she should have been home hours ago. Normally, she’d be texting him that she missed him. But tonight, there was only silence.
His thumb hovered over the call button, the urge to hear her voice, to know she was safe, gnawing at him. But he forced himself to stop, teeth gritting as he leaned his head back, his eyes narrowing at the ceiling.
He couldn’t leave. He knew that. Not when they were leaving first thing tomorrow for their mission. Not when he was on call and could be sent out again at any moment. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to be there, to see her, to hold her, to know she was okay.
“Dude, you good?”
Katsuki’s eyes snapped open, his gaze shifting to Kirishima, who stood at the doorway, his own hero costume battered and worn from the day’s events.
“No,” Katsuki barked, his tone sharper than he intended. But he didn’t apologize. Couldn’t. Not when his chest was tight, his mind racing with worry.
Kirishima offered him a sympathetic smile, his arms crossing as he leaned against the doorframe. “We’ll be leaving tomorrow for our assignment. You can see her then.”
Katsuki’s fists tightened, his shoulders tense. “I don’t want to see her then,” he growled, his voice low, fierce. “I want to see her now.”
Kirishima sighed, his gaze softening. “You can’t leave, man.”
Katsuki’s eye twitched, his jaw clenching so hard it hurt. He knew that Kirishima was right. Knew he was being irrational, letting his emotions get the best of him. But he couldn’t help it. Not when it came to her. Not when every part of him was screaming to go to her, to find her, to make sure she was safe.
He dropped his head, his eyes closing as he exhaled sharply, his hands trembling as he gripped his phone. He hated feeling this way—powerless, vulnerable, worried. It made him feel weak, and Katsuki Bakugou was never weak.
But this was Rosie. His Rosie. His Babydoll. And she made him weak in ways he never thought possible.
His fingers moved on their own, typing out a message before he could stop himself. It was longer than he intended, the words pouring out as he tried to convey everything he was feeling, every worry, every thought that plagued him.
Katsuki: Hey. I know you’re probably busy, but it’s late and I haven’t heard from you. I just… I need to know you’re safe. I know you can handle yourself, I know that, but you’re my girl, and if something happened to you and I wasn’t there to stop it, I don’t think I could live with that. So just… text me back. Let me know you’re okay. Please.
He hesitated for a moment, his thumb hovering over the send button, his chest tight. It was too much, too raw, too vulnerable. But he couldn’t take it back. Didn’t want to. Because it was the truth.
He hit send, his heart pounding as he watched the message deliver, his stomach twisting with anxiety as the minutes ticked by with no response.
“Bakugou…” Kirishima’s voice was softer now, more understanding. “She’s okay. Rosie’s tough. She’s probably still at work or fell asleep when she got home, her phone could have died, or is busy. She’ll text you back soon.”
Katsuki swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving his phone. “She better,” he muttered, his voice strained. “Or I’m blowing up her phone until she does.”
Kirishima laughed, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “You’re such a worrywart when it comes to her, man. You’re really whipped.”
Katsuki glared at him, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he shoved his phone into his pocket. “Shut the hell up. Let’s get outta here.”
But as they walked out of the agency’s dressing room, Katsuki’s mind was still on Rosie, his heart aching as he wondered where she was and why she hadn’t called him back yet. And as much as he tried to push it down, that nagging feeling of worry wouldn’t leave him alone.
It wasn’t until he had showered, dressed in his sweatpants and a faded T-shirt, that his phone lit up on his nightstand, the notification sound distinct from all the others. He had set her ringtone to be different—something sweet and soft, just like her.
He reached for his phone, his heart giving a small, involuntary jump as he saw her name. Babydoll.
Babydoll: I’m sorry, Pomchi… I came home late from work. I’ve just been so tired and stressed with exams and my job… I really miss you. I hope your quirk checkup is going great. I wish I could be there to cheer you on…
His shoulders instantly relaxed, the tension he didn’t even realize he’d been holding melting away. She wasn’t avoiding him. She was just exhausted. A low sigh escaped his lips, his thumb brushing over her message as he read it again, a small smile forming on his lips. She missed him. And damn it, he missed her too.
His fingers moved swiftly over the screen.
Katsuki: Get some rest, Babydoll. You’re workin’ too hard. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, yeah? Sweet dreams.
He stared at his screen for a moment, his heart giving a little squeeze at the thought of her alone in her apartment, probably curled up in bed with his shirt on. The same one she wore the last night he stayed over, her hair messy and her eyes sleepy as she nuzzled against his chest and the scent of her shampoo overwhelming him.
Katsuki tossed his phone back onto the nightstand, his head hitting the pillow as he let out a slow breath. Damn it… he wanted to be there. To hold her, to ease her stress, to kiss that worried look off her face.
He closed his eyes, his mind already racing with ideas. Maybe he’d swing by tomorrow after his quirk checkup. He could grab her favorite takeout, show up at her door and spend the night with her. Hell, he’d even help her with her studying if she needed it. He just wanted to see her. To make her smile.
His lips twitched into a small, almost boyish grin as he pictured the look on her face when she opened the door and saw him standing there. Her eyes would widen, her lips parting in that cute little gasp she always made when he caught her off guard. And then that smile—bright and genuine—would light up her face, the one that made his chest tighten and his heart race.
Yeah… that was exactly what he was gonna do.
He wanted to see her smile, to hear her laugh, to wrap his arms around her and bury his face in her neck, breathing in her sweet scent. The thought sent a rush of warmth through him, his fingers tightening around his phone. Surprising her didn’t sound so bad. Hell, he wanted to see her all the damn time.
That’s what boyfriends did, right?
His chest tightened at the thought. Boyfriend. He was Rosie’s boyfriend. It was a title he’d never cared for before, one he’d scoffed at when his friends had gotten all sappy and lovesick. But now… now it meant everything to him. Being her boyfriend meant he was the one she smiled at, the one she looked to when she was happy or sad, the one who got to hold her, kiss her, protect her.
It meant he was the one she trusted with her heart.
His fingers moved on their own, opening his notes app, his eyes landing on the list he’d been working on for weeks now. The title stared back at him, bold and clear: How to be the Perfect Boyfriend.
It was stupid, really. Corny as hell. But he didn’t care. If it meant making her happy, if it meant being what she needed, then he was willing to swallow his pride and figure this out.
His eyes scanned the list, his chest tightening as he read each line:
- Communication is key. Don’t grunt like a caveman, dumbass. Talk to her. Listen.
- Be thoughtful. Surprise her. Remember the little things. Like how she hates waking up early but loves coffee with two sugars and a splash of cream.
- Protect her. Always. No matter what.
- Support her dreams. Even if they scare the hell outta you.
- Be patient. She’s sensitive, so don’t blow up on her when she’s feeling down.
He scrolled down, his heart softening as he saw the details he’d painstakingly gathered over the past few months:
Favorite meals at different restaurants:
- Her go-to at the soba place: Cold soba with extra dipping sauce.
- Her guilty pleasure at the bakery: Chocolate cake with buttercream frosting or ganache frosting
- That one drink she loves at the café near her apartment: Berry Berry smoothie/ Strawberry Melon tea
Allergies and preferences:
- Penicillin and olives. She can’t have them, no exceptions.
- Hates pickles and mustard but loves cucumbers. Weird, but whatever.
Future date ideas:
- Take her to the aquarium—she mentioned wanting to see the jellyfish exhibit.
- Movie marathon night with her favorite Disney movies.
- Surprise her with a picnic at that park she likes.
- Ballroom dancing—she mentioned wanting to live out her princess dreams, whatever that means
Likes:
- Flowers—red, pink, and white roses, carnations, and peonies
- Snacks—any type of berry, apples and peanut butter (only the smooth kind), chocolate covered strawberries, and animal crackers.
- Gift Ideas—books, makeup, jewelry, socks (really loves socks especially ones with lace), and snowglobes (collects them).
He couldn’t help the grin that tugged at his lips as he read through it. Yeah, he was putting in the effort. He was doing this right. He was going to be the boyfriend she deserved.
His thumb hesitated as he reached the bottom of the list, his heart pounding as his eyes skimmed over the last section, a section he’d written late one night, his mind clouded with thoughts of her, his body aching to touch her, to feel her.
Things I want to do to her:
- Kiss every inch of her skin, especially that spot on her neck that makes her make those whimper noises that he loves so much.
- Make her blush—over and over again.
- See her in nothing but his shirt, tangled in his sheets.
- Hear her moan his name, breathless and raw as she cries on his cock.
- Wake up beside her, every morning.
- Make her his, over and over, until the only thing she says is his name.
His throat tightened, heat coiling in his stomach as his eyes lingered on the words. God, he wanted her. Every part of her. But he was willing to wait, to be patient, to be exactly what she needed him to be.
Because he was going to be the perfect boyfriend.
Katsuki stood with his arms crossed, his crimson eyes narrowing as he stared down the hallway. His hero gear felt familiar, comfortable. Beside him, Kirishima was grinning, his sharp teeth flashing as he stretched his arms above his head. Icy Hot stood stoically, his mismatched eyes focused ahead, while Deku bounced on his toes, the familiar nervous energy rolling off him. Kaminari was fiddling with his gloves, Tokoyami stood silently with Dark Shadow whispering beside him, and Shoji’s multiple arms were folded neatly as he watched Hawks approach.
The ex Pro Hero was as laid back as ever, his wings relaxed as he sauntered over to them, a stack of files in his hand. But his golden eyes were sharp, calculating, a glimmer of excitement in his gaze as he looked them over. “Alright, kiddos, you ready to get your hands dirty?”
“Hell yeah!” Kirishima exclaimed, his fists pumping as he grinned. “Been waiting for this!”
Katsuki rolled his eyes, his fingers tapping against his arm impatiently. He was ready to blow something up. But more than that, he was hoping his mission would take him to Tokyo—or at least close enough so he could drop by and see Rosie. It had been days since he last saw her, and it was driving him insane. He could still hear her voice, that soft, high-pitched tone that made his chest tighten.
“Bakugou.”
Katsuki snapped out of his thoughts, his eyes locking onto Hawks, who was holding out a file. “You’re up first, Dynamight.”
Snatching the folder, Katsuki’s eyes flicked over the pages, his gaze narrowing as he read the details. A small gang of villains targeting abandoned buildings, setting off explosives and causing chaos. Nothing too complicated, but enough to keep him busy. He felt a flicker of disappointment—no mention of Tokyo. But his jaw clenched as he read further, his fingers tightening around the pages. These bastards were using cheap explosives, putting civilians in danger just for the fun of it.
Perfect. He’d blow them to hell.
“Your area’s a few cities over,” Hawks continued, his eyes gleaming. “Shouldn’t take you too long. Just be careful—these guys are small-time, but they’re reckless.”
Katsuki scoffed, his lips curling into a smirk. “I’ll handle it.” His eyes flicked to the map, tracing the route. Not Tokyo, but close enough. If he wrapped this up fast, he could swing by and see Rosie. Just the thought of her made his chest tighten, his heart thudding in his chest.
“Don’t get cocky, Bakugou,” Todoroki muttered, his eyes flicking over his own file. “You’ll need to be careful if they’re using explosives.”
Katsuki’s smirk widened, his crimson eyes flashing. “Tch. I’ll show ‘em how a real explosion looks.”
Kirishima chuckled, his hand slapping Katsuki’s shoulder. “You still sound like a villain man!” Then he leaned in and whispered in his ear, “say hi to Rosie for me and try not to maim her.”
Katsuki’s eyes widened for a split second before he shoved Kirishima off. “Shut up, Shitty Hair! Mind your own business!”
Kirishima just laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yeah, yeah… just don’t get all soft on us, Dynamight.”
Katsuki growled, his fists crackling with sparks. “Say that again, and I’ll blow you up.”
“Alright, break it up,” Hawks interrupted, his wings ruffling as he handed out the rest of the files. “Get to work, and remember—don’t die.”
Katsuki’s eyes flicked back to his file, his fingers tightening around the paper. He was ready. And if he played his cards right, he’d be able to hold her in his arms before the night was over.
Katsuki impatiently tapped his foot, his jaw clenched as he watched the numbers on the elevator crawl by at an agonizingly slow pace. Four… Five… Six… Finally, seven. The doors slid open, and he bolted out, his grip firm on the bouquet of roses—red, pink, and white—and the takeout bag in his other hand. He made his way down the hallway, his boots echoing off the walls as he nearly ran to her door.
Fumbling with his key, he shoved it into the lock, turning it swiftly before pushing the door open. He immediately punched in the alarm code, the beeping silencing as he stepped inside. His eyes narrowed as he took in the darkness of her apartment. Not a single light was on, and more importantly, the little cotton swab wasn’t running up to greet him with her excited yips. His frown deepened, unease curling in his gut.
He set the takeout and the bouquet on the kitchen island, his eyes lingering on the delicate petals before he moved toward her bedroom. Her door was closed, the room behind it ominously dark. Katsuki’s chest tightened as he opened the door quietly, his gaze immediately falling on her figure curled up beneath her blankets.
Maya lay at the end of the bed, her tiny body curled into a fluffy ball, her pink bow slightly askew. Katsuki’s frown softened for a moment before his eyes returned to Rosie. The curtains were drawn, the room dim, and the air was heavy. He approached the bed, sitting carefully beside her legs, his eyes tracing the lines of her body beneath the covers.
His heart sank as he noticed the sweat clinging to her brow, her hair damp and matted against her forehead. Her face was flushed, her lips slightly parted as she struggled to breathe, her breaths coming out ragged and shallow. The blankets were tangled around her, twisted as if she’d been tossing and turning.
“Damn it, Rosie,” he muttered under his breath, his fingers already pulling off his gloves, letting them fall to the floor. He reached out, pressing his palm to her forehead, his eyes narrowing as he felt the burning heat radiating from her skin. “You’re burning up…”
His gaze flicked to the trash can next to her bed, filled with crumpled tissues, some spilling onto the floor. A half-finished glass of water sat on her bedside table, the condensation long gone. Katsuki sighed, his jaw tightening as he ran his hand through his hair. She must’ve gotten herself sick, and knowing her, she probably tried to push through it, refusing to ask for help.
“Stubborn woman,” he grumbled, his voice softening as his fingers brushed her hair out of her face. He watched her for a moment, his eyes tracing the curve of her cheek, the way her nose was slightly red and chapped from what he could only guess was constant rubbing. He hated seeing her like this, so vulnerable, so weak. She was always so full of life, so bright and vibrant. It hurt to see her reduced to this.
“Rosie,” he murmured, his voice low as he leaned over her. “Hey… Babydoll, wake up.”
She stirred, her face scrunching up as a low groan escaped her lips. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused and hazy, her lips parted as she tried to gather herself. “K-Katsuki…?” Her voice was hoarse, scratchy, and her nose was so stuffed that his name came out garbled. She blinked up at him, her eyes glassy and rimmed with red.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he replied, his voice softening as he sat back, his hand lingering on her cheek. “You’re sick, huh?”
Rosie’s brows furrowed as she sniffled, her nose wrinkling as she looked away, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mmm… Didn’t want you to see me like this…”
Katsuki’s chest tightened, a small, amused huff escaping his lips. “Idiot,” he muttered, his fingers brushing her cheek once more before he stood up. “Stay put. I’ll get you some meds and a fresh glass of water.”
Katsuki watched as Rosie’s eyes fluttered open, a soft, tired mumble slipping past her lips as she sank back into her pillow. He stood by her bedside for a moment, his chest tightening at how small and fragile she looked beneath the blankets. Her hair was tangled, her skin pale, and dark circles rested heavily beneath her eyes. She looked miserable.
His jaw tightened with determination as he turned and made his way to the kitchen. She wasn’t getting out of his sight until she was better, and he was going to make damn sure of it. Grabbing a bottle of water and some medicine, he returned to her side, handing her the pills. She downed them quickly, drinking the water before handing the bottle back to him.
“You should shower. It’ll make you feel better,” he coaxed, flicking on her lamp. She winced at the brightness, shielding her eyes.
“But…”
“You’re showering. Come on.”
Before she could protest, Katsuki scooped her up effortlessly, carrying her to the bathroom. He set her on the counter, her legs dangling as she clung to him weakly. He turned on the water, adjusting the temperature before turning back to her. She was trying to run her fingers through her tangled hair, wincing as she pulled at the knots.
He chuckled, the sound soft and affectionate. “Come on, it’s ready.”
She nodded, sliding off the counter. He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, his lips warm against her clammy skin before he turned and left, closing the door behind him. He leaned against the wall for a moment, his eyes closing as he exhaled deeply.
Maya trotted over, her tail wagging as she yipped up at him. He looked down at the tiny cotton ball of a dog and huffed. “Lemme take care of your mom first,” he muttered, giving Maya a quick scratch behind the ears before getting to work.
He stripped her bed of the sweat-soaked sheets and comforter, tossing them into the washer and starting the cycle before heading to her closet. He found a spare set of sheets and remade her bed, making sure it was neat and comfortable. He cleaned out the trash can next to her bed, emptying the tissues and wrappers before moving to the kitchen.
The takeout containers sat on the counter, and he frowned. No way was she eating that junk when she was sick. His eyes landed on the bouquet of flowers he had brought with him, still wrapped in plastic. With careful hands, he cut the stems, arranging them neatly in a vase before placing them on her dining table. He moved around her kitchen with ease, knowing where everything was, knowing every inch of her home just as well as he knew his own.
“Are those for me?” Her soft, raspy voice pulled him from his thoughts. He turned to see her standing in the doorway, her hair still damp from the shower, her body wrapped in one of his oversized shirts. It swallowed her frame, falling to her mid-thigh, her bare legs peeking out beneath the hem.
His eyes softened as he took her in, his heart clenching at how exhausted she looked. Her skin was pale, her nose and eyes red from the fever, but she was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“Yeah,” he answered, clearing his throat as he set the flowers on the table.
A weak smile tugged at her lips. “They’re beautiful… thank you.”
He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “I also got you dinner, but I can make you somethin’ better if you want.”
Her stomach growled, and she flushed, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “I haven’t eaten anything today… I’m starving.”
He shook his head, a soft scoff escaping his lips. “You can try the takeout, but if you can’t keep it down, I’ll make you somethin’ else. Now go get back in bed, and I’ll bring it to you.”
She looked like she wanted to argue but thought better of it, nodding slowly before retreating back to her bedroom. Katsuki was quick to feed Maya before plating a small portion of the teriyaki chicken with white rice and noodles. He didn’t want her overeating and getting sick, so he kept it light.
When he returned to her room, she was sitting up in bed, struggling to brush the knots out of her hair. He sighed, shaking his head as he set the plate on her nightstand. “Give me that,” he ordered, taking the brush from her and shoving the plate into her hands. “Eat.”
She blinked up at him, her lips parting as a blush spread across her cheeks. “You… you don’t have to…”
“Shut up and eat.” He moved behind her, sitting on the edge of the bed as he gently began working through the knots in her hair, his fingers careful and precise. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were sick?”
“I… I didn’t want to worry you,” she admitted, her voice small. “You were busy with your quirk checkup, and I didn’t want to distract you…”
His jaw tightened, his hands pausing for a moment before resuming their movements. “I don’t give a damn what I’m doin’,” he growled, his voice low, firm. “You’re my priority. The next time you’re sick, you better call me. I don’t care if I’m halfway across the damn world, I’m comin’ to take care of you. Got it?”
Her breath hitched, her cheeks flushing as she stared down at her food. “O-Okay…” she whispered, her heart racing as she took another bite.
He chuckled, his fingers moving through her hair with ease now that the knots were gone. “Good girl.”
After brushing her hair and making sure she’d eaten enough, he took her dishes to the kitchen, washing them quickly before returning to her room. He found her struggling to keep her eyes open, her body sinking into the freshly made bed.
He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe as he watched her. “Go to sleep, Babydoll.”
She shook her head, pouting. “Haven’t seen you in days… wanna stay awake…”
He rolled his eyes, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, his hand brushing her hair back. “I’ll be here tomorrow. I’m spendin’ the whole weekend with you.”
Her brows furrowed, her lips trembling. “You’ll get sick…”
He smirked, leaning down until his nose brushed hers. “So?”
She flushed, her heart skipping a beat as his lips hovered just above hers. “I-I don’t want you to…”
“Too bad,” he murmured, his voice soft, teasing. “I’m not leavin’ you alone. I’ll risk catchin’ whatever plague you’ve got.” His lips pressed to her forehead, lingering there before he pulled back. “Now go to sleep.”
She sighed, her eyes slipping shut as she snuggled into the pillows. “Bossy…”
He chuckled, brushing his fingers over her cheek. “You like it.”
A sleepy smile played on her lips. “Yeah… I do…”
His heart skipped a beat, his chest tightening as he watched her drift off, her breathing evening out as she fell into a peaceful sleep. He stayed by her side, his fingers brushing through her hair as he whispered, “I’m not goin’ anywhere, Babydoll. Not ever.”
Notes:
Soon, there will be a lot of references and scene that you won't understand unless you read the first part. I recommend that you read it but I will go and post the chapters of that story it references so you can go and read those as this series is Katsuki and the character being reborn again and again:) anyway, see you guys tomorrow!
Chapter 50: “The Villainous Hero recently debuted! Caught Texting with a Smile while fighting villains!—Who’s Got His Attention?”
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The air was thick with smoke and dust as Katsuki dodged another wave of energy blasts, his body twisting mid-air before rocketing forward, his hands sparking with explosive power. “You’re gettin’ on my nerves you fucking bastard!” he snarled, his crimson eyes narrowing as he launched himself at the villain, his body a blur of motion as he closed the distance between them.
The villain smirked, his hands glowing with a sickly green aura. “You’re just as cocky as they say, Dynamight!” He thrust his hands forward, sending a shockwave of energy that tore through the street, debris flying in every direction.
“Tch, cheap tricks asshole!” Katsuki spat, his hands igniting as he propelled himself up, flipping over the shockwave with ease. He descended fast, his fist cocked back, explosions crackling around his arm as he slammed his fist into the villain’s face sending him flying into the debris of the building he had destroyed with his lackeys already.
However the villain was already up and jumping in the air, his fist raised to punch him. Katsuki met him mid-air, ready to defeat the bastard. His phone vibrated in his pocket, a familiar chime ringing through his earpiece. It was a specific tone, one he had set just for her.
His eyes flicked to the side, his heart skipping a beat. It was Rosie.
Even in the middle of the fight, surrounded by smoke and debris, he couldn’t help but glance at his phone as it buzzed in his pocket. With a grunt, he delivered a punishing right hook to the villain’s jaw, the impact cracking the air like thunder. The bastard stumbled back, dazed, but Katsuki didn’t relent. His other hand reached into his hero uniform, yanking out his phone as he dodged a wild swing.
The screen lit up with her message, her contact name adorned with a pink heart, a photo of her smiling brightly wearing his hoodie. His chest tightened.
Babydoll: Just got home from my last two midterms! I think I did well! Miss you already, pomchi <3
A soft, genuine smile played on his lips, a stark contrast to the fierce scowl he wore just moments before. He could picture her now—probably curled up on her bed, cheeks flushed with excitement, wearing a shirt of his that she loved so much.
He sidestepped another punch, his hand lighting up with a burst of explosions that sent the villain crashing through a row of cars. He didn’t even blink, his thumb moving swiftly over the screen as he typed back.
Katsuki: Knew you’d ace it. Miss you too, Babydoll. Get back into bed.
The villain roared, launching himself out of the wreckage, his hands crackling with dark energy. Katsuki’s gaze lifted, his eyes narrowing as he pocketed his phone. “You’re really startin’ to piss me off.”
He rocketed forward, his explosions propelling him at blinding speed. His fist collided with the villain’s face, sending him skidding across the pavement, ripping up concrete in his wake. The street shook from the impact, windows rattling as smoke filled the air.
His phone buzzed again. His heart leaped, his senses still heightened from the fight as he pulled it out. The corner of his mouth twitched up.
Babydoll: I’m feeling a little better… I wish you were here though.
Babydoll: Please come home to me safe<3
His chest tightened, his resolve hardening. He could almost hear her voice, soft and sweet, laced with that gentle worry she tried so hard to hide. His eyes flicked to the villain, who was struggling to his feet, blood dripping from his mouth. “Sorry, asshole. I’ve got someone waitin’ for me at home.”
He launched forward, his body moving with lethal precision, his movements swift and calculated. He unleashed a barrage of explosions, the blasts echoing through the city as he pummeled the villain into the ground. The pavement shattered beneath them, cracks spider-webbing outwards as the ground caved in from the force.
His thumb hovered over the screen, his eyes softening as he read her message again. He could already see it—her eyes lighting up as he walked through her door, her arms wrapping around his neck, her lips brushing his as she whispered her relief.
Katsuki: I’ll be there before you know it. Be good, Babydoll.
Katsuki: Do you want anything specific when I go to the store?
He stood there, completely absorbed, his shoulders relaxing as he stared at the screen. For a moment, the chaos of the battlefield faded away, replaced by the warmth blooming in his chest.
The villain groaned beneath him, his head lifting from the crater Katsuki had created with his skull. Blood dripped from his nose as he stared up in disbelief. “Are you… are you seriously texting right now?”
Katsuki’s eyes flicked down, his expression deadpan as he held his phone up, waving it in front of the villain’s face. “Shut the hell up, bastard. Can’t you see I’m busy?”
The villain’s eyes widened, his mouth opening to retort, but Katsuki didn’t give him the chance. His hand sparked with an explosion that sent the villain’s head slamming back into the pavement, the man’s eyes rolling back as he lost consciousness.
Babydoll: Could you pick up some ice cream? If you’re not too exhausted after your mission and the paperwork that is. If not, then it’s okay.
Katsuki: Anything for you doll.
He stuffed his phone back into his pocket, his heart still fluttering as he replayed Rosie’s message in his head. Damn it, she was too cute for her own good.
His chest tightened at the thought of her curled up in bed, wearing one of his shirts she loved so much, her hair a tousled mess as she pouted at him for not being there. His fingers twitched, craving to feel her soft skin, to run his hands through her hair, to hold her close and listen to that adorable voice whispering his name.
His expression softened, his guard lowering for just a moment as he imagined her sleepy smile, those bright eyes lighting up when she saw him walk through the door. Ice cream for her sore throat, or popsicles—she loved those stupidly sweet strawberry ones that always stained her lips a shade of pink he couldn’t resist kissing off.
“Dynamight!” One of the police officers called, breaking him from his thoughts. “We’ll take it from here!”
He grunted in acknowledgment, his usual scowl returning as he nodded. “Tch, ‘bout time.” He turned on his heel, his shoulders relaxing as he began to walk away, his hands shoved into his pockets as his phone vibrated again.
Babydoll: Are you staying the night?
His heart skipped a beat, his lips twitching into a smile as he typed back a quick response.
Katsuki: Hell yes
Smoke billowed around him as he stood over the unconscious villain, his chest heaving. He didn’t spare him another glance as he walked away from the wreckage, ignoring the flashing cameras, the reporters shouting his name, the crowd buzzing around him. None of it mattered. Not when she was waiting for him.
He’d take the long way home just to stop by that grocery store she loved. Those pink strawberry popsicles were calling his name, and he’d be damned if he didn’t see that pretty blush on her cheeks when he showed up with her favorite treat.
Yeah… that sounded like a good plan.
Katsuki stood in front of the ice cream freezer, his arms crossed as he scowled at the rows of colorful cartons. He was still in his hero uniform, the familiar black and orange gear unmistakable, his gauntlets removed but his mask still pushed up on his forehead. A few people gawked at him, their whispers blending into the store’s background noise, but he didn’t give a damn. He had more important things to worry about.
His poor, sick little girlfriend, for one and her desire for ice cream.
Despite being sick, she felt well enough this morning after getting some sleep, to take her last two exams but she still had a fever and her throat still hurt, not to mention she could barely keep anything down. He could practically hear her congested sniffles through her texts.
The thought made his chest tighten. He hated seeing her miserable. If he could fight off whatever virus she’d caught, he would, but since he couldn’t, he’d do the next best thing—he’d take care of her.
His eyes narrowed as he weighed his options. Strawberry ice cream or strawberry popsicles? She loved both, but which one would be easier on her throat? He stood there, scowling as if the cartons and boxes were daring him to make the wrong choice.
“Fuck it,” he muttered under his breath, grabbing both. If she didn’t eat one, he’d eat it himself. Problem solved.
Turning on his heel, he marched down the aisle, his boots thudding against the floor as he tossed the frozen treats into his basket. He ignored the curious stares, his focus zeroed in on his mental checklist: soup, honey, cough drops, tea... and maybe some tissues with that lotion stuff so her nose wouldn’t get all raw and red.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he fished it out, his brows drawing together as he saw Hawks’ name flashing on the screen. He swiped to answer. “What?”
“Good evening to you too, Dynamight,” Hawks’ voice chirped, annoyingly chipper. “Just calling to remind you to file your paperwork for that assignment you wrapped up.”
Katsuki grunted, shoving a bag of cough drops into his basket. “I’ll do it tomorrow. Got shit to do tonight.”
“Aw, aren’t you a busy bee?” Hawks teased. There was a pause before he continued, his tone shifting to one of amusement. “By the way, you’re trending right now.”
Katsuki’s jaw tightened. “Don’t care.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought you’d say,” Hawks chuckled. “But you should see some of these headlines. ‘Dynamight seen grocery shopping like a normal human.’ You’d think you discovered fire the way people are reacting.”
“People are idiots,” Katsuki growled, grabbing a box of peppermint tea. “I’ve got more important things to take care of.”
“Yeah, I bet you do,” Hawks said, his voice annoyingly knowing. “Say, Dynamight… you know women typically like hot bubble baths when they’re sick. Maybe grab some candles while you’re at it.”
Katsuki stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at his phone. “The hell would I need candles for?”
“Just a suggestion,” Hawks sang before hanging up.
Katsuki stared at his phone, his expression a mix of annoyance and confusion. Candles? What the hell was that birdbrain talking about? Shaking his head, he shoved his phone back into his pocket. He didn’t have time for Hawks’ weird jokes.
But as he passed the aisle with scented candles, he slowed, his eyes landing on a pink one labeled ‘Strawberry Cream.’ He scoffed, his lips curving into a smirk. “Damn woman and her obsession with strawberries,” he muttered, grabbing the candle and tossing it into his basket.
If it’d make her feel even a little better, he’d buy out the whole damn store.
Katsuki’s phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. His eyebrow twitched in annoyance as he fished it out of his pocket, his eyes narrowing at the barrage of notifications flooding his screen. The class group chat was blowing up, memes and screenshots flying by so fast he could barely read them.
Dunce Face: BRO HOW’D YOU EVEN PULL THAT OFF?!
Shitty Hair: The dual-wielding AND texting! Manliest thing I’ve ever seen!!
Raccoon Eyes: I’m cryin’ that’s TOO cute!! Who were you texting, huh?!
His jaw clenched as he scrolled through the messages, finally finding the source of all the chaos. It was a photo plastered across multiple news outlets—a shot of him mid-air, explosions firing from his palms as he propelled himself toward a villain. But his head was angled down, his eyes fixed on his phone, his mouth curved into a small, genuine smile.
He could practically hear the fangirls screaming already.
The headline was okay: “The Villainous Hero: Dynamight has recently started back in Pro Hero work!”
The next one was worse:“The Villainous Hero recently debuted! Caught Texting with a Smile while fighting villains!—Who’s Got His Attention?”
He let out an exasperated sigh, shoving his phone back into his pocket as the elevator doors opened. He was gonna murder the news outlets.
Walking down the hall, he finally reached her door, his shoulders relaxing as he unlocked it and stepped inside. Immediately, Maya came bounding over, her pink bow bouncing with every step as she wiggled her way between his legs, her tail wagging furiously.
“Hey, furball,” he muttered, crouching down to scratch behind her ears. Her little tongue flicked out, licking his hand before she trotted off, clearly satisfied with the attention.
He stood up, his eyes drifting to the couch where a pile of blankets seemed to be moving. He frowned, his gaze softening as he walked closer. Sure enough, buried under at least four layers of blankets was Rosie, her hair a tousled mess, her face flushed, and her eyes droopy as she stared blankly at the TV, which was playing some cheesy chick flick.
“Katsuki…?” Her voice was hoarse, scratchy, and pitifully weak. She blinked up at him, her lips chapped and nose pink. “I thought you were coming home late. Aren’t you… supposed to be working?”
“I finished early for you, doll,” he said softly, his eyes filled with concern as he knelt beside her. “What’s with all the blankets? You cold?”
She nodded, sniffling as she pulled the covers tighter around herself. “I feel… like death,” she croaked, her eyes watery as she attempted to glare at the TV, clearly annoyed by whatever was playing.
He felt his chest tighten at how small and fragile she looked. He reached out, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead, his frown deepening as he felt the heat radiating off her skin. “Damn it, you’re burning up.”
Her lower lip trembled as she looked up at him, her eyes glassy. “I hate being sick…”
His heart squeezed painfully at how vulnerable she sounded. Without another word, he stood up and headed to the kitchen, rummaging through her cabinets until he found a clean glass. He filled it with cold water and then grabbed some medicine from her bathroom cabinet before returning to her side.
“Here,” he said, his tone gentler than usual as he held out the pills and the glass of water. “Take these.”
She made a face but obediently took the medicine, her fingers brushing against his as she drank the water slowly. Her hands were trembling slightly, and he cursed under his breath, feeling a pang of guilt that he hadn’t realized she was feeling this bad.
He set the empty glass on the coffee table before adjusting the blankets around her, tucking her in snugly. Her eyes widened slightly as she looked up at him, her voice soft and weak. “You… don’t have to do this…”
“Shut up,” he grumbled, his cheeks tinged pink as he ran a hand through his hair, trying to play it off. “What kinda boyfriend would I be if I didn’t take care of you?”
Her lips curved into a faint smile, her eyes softening as she looked at him. “You’re too good to me…”
He rolled his eyes, scoffing as he stood up. “Other way around princess. Now stay put. I’m making you something to eat.”
Before she could protest, he was already in the kitchen, rummaging through her fridge. He settled on making her some soup, knowing she’d barely be able to stomach anything else. As the pot simmered on the stove, he cleaned up her counters, putting away everything he had bought.
Maya trotted over, sitting at his feet and giving him her best puppy-dog eyes. He sighed, leaning down to scratch her head. “Yeah, yeah… I know. She’s a handful, huh?”
The poodle barked softly, as if agreeing with him, her tail wagging.
When the soup was ready, he poured it into a bowl and carried it back to the living room, setting it on the coffee table. “Alright, up you go,” he said, gently lifting her into a sitting position, piling the blankets around her so she wouldn’t get cold.
Her eyes sparkled as she looked at the bowl, a weak but genuine smile on her lips. “You… made me soup?”
“Yeah, well… you’re sick,” he muttered, his ears turning red as he scooped up a spoonful and blew on it before holding it to her lips. “Open up.”
Her cheeks flushed as she obediently opened her mouth, letting him feed her. Her eyes fluttered shut as she tasted the warm broth, her shoulders relaxing as she let out a content sigh. “It’s… really good…”
He smirked, his heart swelling as he watched her, his usually sharp eyes softening. “Damn right it is. I don’t half-ass anything, you know that.”
She laughed softly, her voice raspy but sweet as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “Thank you… Katsuki…”
“Tch. Don’t mention it,” he grumbled, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from her face as he continued feeding her.
As the movie continued to play in the background, he found himself relaxing, his arm draped around her shoulders as she nestled closer, her body warm and soft against his. He could feel her breathing evening out, her exhaustion finally catching up to her as she drifted off to sleep.
His phone buzzed again, more notifications about that stupid photo, but he didn’t care. Not when she was curled up against him, her head resting on his chest, her soft, sleepy breaths warming his skin.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his eyes lingering on her peaceful expression. “Rest up, Babydoll… I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
Steam billowed from the bathroom as Katsuki stepped out, a towel slung low on his hips, droplets of water trailing down his toned chest. He ran a hand through his damp hair, shaking it out before grabbing another towel to dry it. His gaze flicked to the couch, a small smile tugging at his lips as he saw Rosie still asleep, curled up beneath a fluffy pink blanket.
Her hair was a tousled mess, a few strands falling over her face, her lips parted as she slept soundly. She looked so peaceful, so soft, and delicate. The sight made his chest tighten, his heart thudding a little faster as he watched her. Damn, she was beautiful.
He moved quietly, his footsteps silent as he approached her, his eyes softening as he took in the way her fingers were curled against her cheek, her breathing steady and even. Carefully, he slid an arm under her knees, the other supporting her back as he lifted her effortlessly. She stirred, mumbling something incoherent as she instinctively snuggled into his chest, her face pressing against his skin.
His heart skipped a beat, his grip tightening as he fought the urge to just hold her there, to stay like that forever. But he shook his head, his lips curving into a soft smile as he carried her to her bedroom. Gently, he laid her on the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin before brushing a strand of hair from her face. She sighed, her body sinking into the mattress, her face relaxing as she mumbled his name, a small smile playing on her lips.
His heart clenched, his fingers lingering on her cheek before he reluctantly pulled away, heading back to the living room. He gathered his hero uniform, the suit still stained with dirt, sweat and blood from his last mission. He made his way to her laundry room, figuring he’d wash it before heading out tomorrow to do his paperwork.
He was just about to start the washer when he heard it—the unmistakable sound of keys jingling, followed by the click of the front door unlocking. His eyes widened, his body freezing for a split second before his instincts kicked in. Shit. He had to hide.
Without thinking, he bolted back to Rosie’s room, slipping inside and quietly closing the door behind him. His eyes darted around before he spotted her closet, the double doors slightly ajar. He yanked them open and ducked into her walk in closet, his body pressed against the soft fabrics of her dresses and sweaters as he peered through the crack between the doors.
His heart pounded, his breathing shallow as he listened, his muscles tensing as he heard footsteps entering the apartment. A man’s voice reached his ears, low and familiar.
“Rosie?”
His blood ran cold, his eyes widening as recognition dawned on him. Aizawa.
Shit.
What the hell was he doing here? Katsuki’s body went rigid, his mind racing as he tried to piece together why his teacher was in his girlfriend’s apartment. Dumbass, that was her father.
His grip tightened on the closet door, his jaw clenching as he forced himself to stay silent, to keep his breathing steady as he watched through the tiny crack, his heart thundering in his chest. He had to stay hidden. If Aizawa found him here… he didn’t even want to think about what the fuck would happen if Aizawa found him here.
The footsteps grew closer, moving towards Rosie’s room. Katsuki’s muscles coiled, ready to spring into action if necessary, his eyes locked on the door as the footsteps stopped just outside.
“...Still sleeping, huh?” Aizawa’s voice was soft, almost fond. “You always did like your naps sunshine.”
Katsuki let out a silent breath, his body relaxing slightly as he heard Aizawa’s footsteps retreating, moving back towards the living room. He stayed in the closet, his body tense, his ears straining to hear every movement.
Katsuki’s heart was pounding, his back pressed against the wall of Rosie’s closet as he did his best to remain completely still. His eyes narrowed as he adjusted himself, his body tense as he tried to blend in among her neatly hung dresses and coats. He could hear Aizawa’s footsteps echoing throughout the apartment, each step deliberate and calm, as if the man was inspecting every nook and cranny.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and his heart nearly stopped. Silencing it in record time, he bit back a curse, his fingers trembling slightly. He would kill Kirishima later for blowing up his phone. For now, he needed to get through this without being caught.
Aizawa’s footsteps grew closer, his quiet, steady gait moving towards Rosie’s bedroom. Katsuki held his breath, his jaw clenching as he heard the door creak open, followed by the faint jingle of Maya’s collar as she darted in, her paws scratching against the hardwood floor.
“You’re supposed to be guarding the door, not waking her up,” Aizawa’s voice was low, dry, a hint of amusement threading through his usual monotone.
Katsuki dared not even blink as he watched through the slats of the closet door. Aizawa stood at the foot of the bed, his arms crossed as he watched Maya leap onto the mattress, her tiny body bouncing slightly as she crawled up to Rosie’s face, her little pink bow askew.
A soft groan escaped Rosie’s lips as she stirred, her hair a messy halo around her head as Maya began licking her cheek. She giggled sleepily, her eyes fluttering open as she reached out, her fingers brushing Maya’s fur. “Maya… stop…” She yawned, her voice soft, groggy. “It tickles…”
Aizawa’s expression softened, his posture relaxing as he watched his daughter cuddle her poodle. “You should turn your alarm on,” he stated flatly, his tone casual but firm. “Anyone could just walk in.”
Rosie’s eyes widened, her body jolting upright as she turned to face him. “Dad! You scared me!” Her cheeks flushed, her hands instinctively smoothing down her hair as she pulled the covers up to her chest. “Why… why are you here?”
“I tried calling you,” Aizawa replied, his eyes flicking to the phone on her nightstand, the screen dark. “You didn’t answer. Thought something might’ve happened.”
Rosie’s face softened, her shoulders relaxing as she sighed, her fingers gently petting Maya. “Sorry… I got myself sick with work and midterms.” She offered him a sheepish smile, her gaze warm. “I appreciate you checking on me, though.”
Katsuki watched the scene unfold, his fists clenched as he remained silent, hidden behind her dresses. His heart was racing, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he realized just how close he was to being discovered. Aizawa was standing right there, less than ten feet away. If he so much as sneezed, he was screwed.
“Do you need anything?” Aizawa asked as he leaned down to kiss her head.
“No, Mina has been stopping by.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to your rest. I’m about to head out of an assignment for a week and just wanted to check on you.” But before he could walk out, Maya darted off the bed, her little body running toward the closet.
Katsuki’s heart stopped.
Maya’s nose wiggled as she sniffed the closet door, her tiny paws scratching at the bottom as her tail wagged excitedly. “Maya? What’s wrong?” Rosie asked, her brows furrowing as she watched her dog curiously.
Aizawa’s eyes narrowed, his gaze shifting toward the closet, his body tensing as he took a step forward. “Is someone here?”
“No…?” Rosie blinked, tilting her head in confusion, trying her best to look innocent. “It’s just me and Maya.”
Aizawa’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze lingering on the closet door for a moment longer than she would’ve liked. Rosie’s heart raced, her palms sweating as she watched him reach for the handle, his fingers curling around the knob.
Her mind went blank, panic surging through her. Before she could stop herself, she forced out a cough—a loud, dry cough that quickly turned into a real coughing fit. She doubled over, clutching her stomach as her body shook.
Aizawa’s head snapped towards her, his expression immediately softening as he abandoned the closet door and rushed to her side. “Sunshine,” his voice was laced with concern as he handed her the glass of water on her nightstand. “Are you okay? Can I get you anything?”
Rosie took a few sips, willing herself to calm down as she forced a small smile. “I’m okay… I think it’s just… sore throat.” Her voice wavered, but Aizawa didn’t seem to notice, too preoccupied with her wellbeing.
“Are you sure?” He placed a hand on her forehead, his brows knitting together as he checked her temperature. “You feel warm… Do you want me to stay a little longer?”
“No!” She blurted out, a bit too quickly. “No, Dad, I’ll be fine. I just need to rest.” Her eyes widened, her pulse quickening as she realized how suspicious she must’ve sounded. “Um… could you get me some more water before you go? Please?”
Aizawa hesitated, his eyes flickering back to the closet. Rosie held her breath, her fingers tightening around the glass as she watched him, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it.
But finally, he sighed, his shoulders relaxing. “Alright. I’ll get you some more water.” He walked out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall as Rosie released the breath she was holding, her entire body sagging with relief.
But the relief was short-lived as Aizawa returned, setting the full glass of water on her nightstand before his eyes wandered back to the closet, his fingers twitching as if he were debating whether or not to check.
Just as his hand reached out, his phone rang, the shrill ringtone breaking the tense silence. He sighed, pulling out his phone and glancing at the screen. “It’s your uncle Mic,” he explained, his eyes softening. “He wanted to have lunch before I left, but we’ll reschedule when I get back, Sunshine.”
Rosie’s shoulders relaxed, her heart fluttering as she smiled up at him. “I love you, Dad. Be safe.”
Aizawa’s expression softened, his hand coming up to ruffle her hair affectionately before leaning down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I love you too, Sunshine. Keep your door locked, get plenty of rest, and drink plenty of fluids. I’ll call you tonight once I’m settled in.”
“I will,” she promised, her voice soft as she watched him stand up, his eyes lingering on her for a moment longer before he turned to leave. But just as he reached the door, his gaze flickered back to the closet, his brows furrowing slightly.
Rosie’s heart skipped a beat, her body tensing as she watched him, her breath catching in her throat. But then, he shook his head, mumbling something under his breath before walking out, the front door closing behind him.
She stayed frozen in place, her eyes glued to the door, waiting… and waiting… until finally, she heard her security alarm.
Rosie let out a shaky breath, her body slumping against her pillows as she rubbed her hands over her face, her heart still racing. She threw the blankets off and hurried her balcony, peeking out to make sure his car was really gone before she finally let herself relax.
Walking back to her bedroom, she leaned against the doorframe, her eyes flicking to the closet before letting out a small, tired sigh. “You can come out now,” she called softly, her voice trembling with relief. “He’s gone.”
The closet door creaked open slowly, and Katsuki stepped out, his shoulders tense, his expression hard. “That was too close,” he grumbled, his eyes narrowing as he ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “Your old man’s too damn nosy.”
Rosie let out a laugh, the sound light and breathy as she walked over to him, her arms wrapping around his waist as she buried her face in his chest. “I thought he was going to find you…”
Katsuki’s arms circled around her, his chin resting on the top of her head as he exhaled slowly, his muscles finally relaxing. “Yeah… me too.” He kissed the top of her head, his grip tightening around her. “You’re a good liar, Babydoll.”
Rosie pulled back, a teasing smile playing on her lips as she looked up at him. “Don’t get used to it. I hate lying to him… but I’d rather lie than have him kill you.”
Katsuki snorted, his lips curving into a smirk. “He’d try,” he muttered, his hands sliding down to her hips. “But he’d have to catch me first.”
Rosie laughed, her fingers curling into his shirt as she pulled him down for a kiss. "You got ice cream right?"
He chuckled, "yes, in the freezer."
Notes:
Katsuki texting her while fighting villains just makes a lot of sense to me haha<3 I'll see you guys tomorrow
Chapter 51: I was right… you look better in your Hero uniform
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki sat with his laptop propped on his lap, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he worked through his assignments. Nestled against his side was his girlfriend, wrapped snugly in her pink blanket, her attention fixed on the TV as she ate strawberry ice cream. On his other side, the little cotton swab of a dog was fast asleep, its tiny body curled up in a fluffy ball. Katsuki smirked, knowing the pup only came to him because Rosie kept fidgeting and coughing.
The sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow through the living room windows. Katsuki glanced down at Rosie, noticing how intensely she was watching her show—a series about FBI agents chasing serial killers across the country. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted slightly as she hung on every twist and turn of the plot.
Her phone rang, breaking the tense silence. He watched as she hesitated before grabbing it, her thumb swiping across the screen. “Hey, Mina,” she greeted, her voice a little hoarse from her earlier fever.
“Yeah, I’m doing better. Thanks for checking up on me.” She shifted under her blanket, a soft smile playing on her lips. “I’m currently eating ice cream.”
Katsuki shook his head, his own lips twitching into a fond grin as he went back to his homework. Of course, she had nearly eaten the whole carton of that pink, sweet stuff she loved so much.
“I mean, my fever has broken,” she continued, her voice growing fainter as she stood up, her blanket falling to the couch as she padded towards the kitchen. Katsuki watched her go, noting the way her shoulders were more relaxed, her hair still a little messy from lounging around all day. She was definitely feeling better.
He went back to his work, fully expecting her to return in a few minutes, but his head snapped up when he heard the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. His heart lurched as he tossed his laptop aside, bolting towards the kitchen.
He found her standing frozen, her eyes wide as she stared down at her phone. At her feet was a shattered bowl, melted pink ice cream pooling around the broken glass. Katsuki didn’t think—he moved on instinct, scooping her up effortlessly and setting her on the counter, his eyes scanning her bare feet for any cuts. “Doll, you’re gonna hurt yourself,” he grumbled, his hands steady on her waist. “What’s wrong?”
Rosie didn’t answer immediately, her eyes still glued to her phone. “Were you… texting me while you were working?” she asked, her voice small, disbelieving.
Katsuki frowned, glancing at her phone as she shoved it in his face. His eyes narrowed at the photo—a snapshot of him from earlier today, mid-battle. It showed him slamming a villain into the ground, his fist glowing with explosive energy, and his other hand holding his phone, his lips curled into a rare, soft smile.
The headline was bold, attention-grabbing: “The Villainous Hero Caught Texting with a Smile While Fighting—Who’s Got His Attention?”
He rolled his eyes, annoyance prickling under his skin. “Yeah, so what?” he muttered, turning away to grab the broom and mop. “Why’re you surprised?”
He could feel her gaze burning into his back as he swept up the broken shards of glass, her silence heavy with disbelief. “You shouldn’t be texting me while working!” she finally exclaimed, her voice rising into that indignant, whiny tone that he secretly adored.
Katsuki’s lips twitched, fighting back a smile as she continued her little rant, her hands waving animatedly as she huffed about safety and professionalism. Once the floor was clean, he turned back to her, his eyes darkening as he caged her in, his hands braced on either side of her on the counter. Even seated, she was still shorter than him, her big eyes staring up at him with that adorable pout.
“You’re my priority, Doll,” he stated, his voice low and firm, his eyes searching hers.
Her cheeks flushed, her mouth falling open in shock. “Katsuki…” she whispered, her voice soft, breathy.
He couldn’t help himself, his head dipping down as his lips captured hers, his mouth warm and demanding. She melted against him instantly, her arms wrapping around his neck, her fingers threading into his hair as she pulled him closer. He growled, his hands finding her waist, his fingers digging into her soft skin as he pressed himself against her, his body fitting perfectly against hers.
Just as he was about to pull away, her legs wrapped around his waist, locking him in place as she tilted her head, deepening the kiss. A shiver ran down his spine, his control slipping as her soft body pressed against him, her mouth cold and sweet from the strawberry ice cream.
“I was right… you look better in your Hero uniform,” she purred, her voice teasing, her eyes heavy with desire as she looked up at him through her lashes. “Very sexy in your hero uniform.”
His jaw clenched, his eyes darkening as he leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. “Yeah? That so, Babydoll?” His voice was a low growl, his teeth grazing her earlobe as his hands gripped her thighs, his thumbs stroking the soft skin.
She nodded, her breath hitching as his lips trailed down her neck, his teeth nipping at her pulse point. “You look so strong… so powerful…” she murmured, her fingers tightening in his hair.
He groaned, his hands moving to her hips, his body pressing harder against hers as he kissed her, his mouth hot and hungry as he claimed her lips again. Her body arched into him, her soft curves molding perfectly against his hard muscles, her breathy moans making him feel like he was losing his mind.
But then she shivered, a tiny cough slipping out before she could stop it. Katsuki froze, his eyes narrowing as he pulled back, his lips swollen, his breathing ragged as he took in her flushed cheeks, her heavy eyes, and the slight tremor in her shoulders.
“Not tonight,” he growled, his voice firm as he steadied her, his hands rubbing her arms to warm her. “You still have a fever.”
“Katsukiii,” she whined, her lower lip jutting out in a pout as she looked up at him with pleading eyes. “I feel better…”
His lips twitched, a chuckle rumbling in his chest as he shook his head. “If you’re feelin’ better tomorrow night, we’ll try something else. Yeah?” His voice was teasing, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he watched her cheeks turn pink, her gaze dropping as she went all shy and meek. Damn, she was cute.
Without another word, he lifted her off the counter, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist as she clung to him. He held her easily, his hands warm on her thighs as he carried her back to the living room, settling her onto the couch and tucking her pink blanket around her. “Now stay put and rest, Babydoll,” he ordered, his voice gruff as he kissed her forehead. “I’m not dealin’ with you gettin’ sicker on me.”
She huffed, crossing her arms but leaning into his touch. “Bossy…” she muttered, her eyes fluttering shut as he gently stroked her hair.
He smirked, his chest warming as he watched her snuggle into the blanket. “Damn right, I am. Now sleep.”
And as her breathing evened out, her body relaxing against his as he went back to his laptop, to his homework.
Rosie’s fever had finally broken in the middle of the night. She had been adamant about staying with him, even though he’d been up late working through the mountain of homework he’d missed while preparing for his Quirk checkup. Midterms were next week for those who had attended the quirk checkup and he couldn’t afford to fall behind, but he also couldn’t stand the thought of her being sick alone.
So now, they were at the dog park, letting Maya burn off all the pent-up energy from being cooped up in the apartment all week. The little poodle was a blur of pink as she raced around with her freshly groomed bow and bandana. Rosie sat beside him on the bench, her body leaning slightly against his, still dressed in his oversized t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants. Her hair was pulled up messily, her cheeks still a little pale, but her eyes were bright as she watched Maya play.
“You feeling okay?” Katsuki asked, his eyes flicking over to her, his arm casually draped along the back of the bench behind her.
She looked up at him, a small smile on her lips. “Yeah… much better. Thanks for staying with me.”
He grunted, looking away to hide the warmth creeping up his neck. “Don’t mention it, dumbass. It’s what boyfriends do.”
She laughed softly, leaning her head against his shoulder, her fingers playing with the hem of his shirt she was wearing. “I like when you say that…”
“What?”
“That you’re my boyfriend,” she whispered, her voice soft, affectionate.
His chest tightened, his arm sliding down from the bench to wrap around her shoulders, pulling her closer. “Yeah, well, get used to it.”
She looked up at him, her eyes shining. “I plan to.”
Before he could respond, their phones went off simultaneously, buzzing with a series of rapid-fire dings. They both groaned, already knowing what it was.
“The class group chat,” they said in unison, exchanging a knowing look.
Katsuki pulled his phone out of his pocket while Rosie reached for hers, their screens lighting up with dozens of new messages. At the top of the feed, Mina’s name stood out, followed by a series of exclamation points.
Mina: TETSUTETSU AND KENDO ARE THROWING A PARTY TONIGHT!!! 🎉🎉
Mina: EVERYONE’S INVITED!! BE THERE OR BE SQUARE!!
Kaminari: LET’S GOOOOOO!! 😎🔥
Sero: It’s been forever since we all got together!
Mina: 9 PM AT THEIR PLACE! DON’T BE LATE!
Rosie’s eyes lit up, her head snapping up to look at him. “Katsuki! Can we go?”
He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. “You sure you’re up for that? You just got over a fever, Babydoll.”
She pouted, her fingers clutching his shirt. “I feel fine… and it sounds fun. I’ve been stuck inside all week. Please?”
His eyes softened, his hand slipping down to squeeze her shoulder. “Fine. But we’re leaving if you get tired. And you’re coming home with me after.”
Her face flushed, her eyes widening. “Y-Your place?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice firm, his eyes locked on hers. “I want you in my bed tonight.”
Her cheeks turned a deep shade of pink, her lips parting as she stared at him, her heart racing. She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Okay… I’ll go home with you.”
His eyes darkened, his fingers tightening on her shoulder as he leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. “Good girl.”
Her breath hitched, her fingers gripping his shirt even tighter as she looked up at him, her eyes wide with anticipation. His lips curved into a wicked grin as he pulled back, standing up and holding out his hand. “C’mon. Let’s head back, I have some errands to run.”
“Can I come?” She asked
“Of course,” he chuckled.
Rosie took his hand, her heart fluttering as he pulled her to her feet. They called for Maya, who came running over, her pink bow bouncing as she yipped excitedly. Together, they walked back to Rosie’s apartment, her fingers entwined with his.
Katsuki glanced over at Rosie as he drove, his grip firm on the wheel. She was humming softly, completely lost in whatever song was playing in her head, her fingers delicately touching up her lip gloss in the mirror. His black sweater practically swallowed her up, the sleeves falling past her hands, and she paired it with that tiny white skirt that had his jaw clenching. Her boots tapped softly against the car floor, her legs crossed as she applied another coat of that sweet strawberry gloss he fucking loved.
She was still recovering from her fever, and he had told her to stay home, to rest, but she insisted on sticking to his side, refusing to be left alone. So, like the good girl she was, she kept him company while he ran errands—dropping off paperwork for yesterday’s assignment, stopping by the grocery store, and even tagging along when he had to pick up a few things from the mall.
She wanted to help him.
And damn it, he wasn’t about to say no when she looked so damn eager to be by his side.
Now, in the grocery store, Katsuki was pushing the cart down an aisle, scanning the shelves for the things on his list when he felt a light tug at his sleeve. Rosie, grasping onto the fabric of his hoodie, her tiny hand curled around his bicep like she was afraid he’d pull away.
He exhaled sharply, his heart clenching.
She was always like this—always seeking him out, always staying close, like she needed the constant reassurance that he was there. He fucking loved it.
He let his free hand brush against hers, watching as her fingers instinctively curled tighter around him.
“You didn’t text me much while I was gone.” His voice came out rougher than he intended, but he didn’t care. He wanted to know why.
Rosie stilled, her fingers tightening around the hem of his sleeve, her eyes darting away as she toyed with the fabric. She looked flustered, hesitant.
“I…” she trailed off, still refusing to meet his gaze. “I didn’t want to come off as… as needy or clingy.” Her voice was soft, unsure. “I knew you were busy, and I didn’t want to bother you or make you upset.”
Katsuki stopped walking, his feet planting firmly on the ground as he turned to look at her, really look at her. She still wouldn’t meet his eyes, her fingers fidgeting with his hoodie, her shoulders tense.
Something in his chest ached.
She thought she was a bother? That her wanting to be close to him would ever be a problem?
Fucking hell.
He glanced around, making sure the aisle was mostly empty before he reached out, his fingers wrapping gently around the back of her neck. Rosie gasped, her eyes finally flickering up to his as he pulled her closer, his grip firm but careful.
And then he kissed her.
It wasn’t soft or sweet—it was deep, slow, full of everything he couldn’t put into words. His lips moved against hers, demanding and possessive, his hand tightening just slightly on the nape of her neck. She melted into him almost immediately, her small hands fisting his hoodie, like she didn’t want him to let go.
He finally pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her lips. His crimson eyes bore into hers, unblinking.“You don’t get it, do you?” His voice was low, husky. “I like that you’re clingy. I like that you need me, that you wanna be close to me. That’s how it should be.”
Rosie swallowed hard, her fingers trembling against his hoodie.
“You could never be a bother to me,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against her jaw. “I want you to rely on me, always. Got it?”
She nodded, her breath hitching.
“Say it,” he pressed.
“I got it,” she whispered.
“Good girl,” he muttered, dropping one last lingering kiss against her lips before he finally pulled away, his hand sliding from her neck to her waist, keeping her close as they continued down the aisle.
She was his.
And he’d make damn sure she never doubted that again.
Katsuki leaned against the handle of the shopping cart, watching with mild amusement as Rosie took the list from his hand and started grabbing everything in sight, moving through the aisles with practiced ease. She muttered to herself as she checked things off, her brows furrowed in concentration.
“Doll, we don’t need five different types of cheese,” he snorted, watching her toss them into the cart anyway.
“Yes, we do,” she argued without missing a beat, throwing in a bottle of wine next.
He pushed the cart behind her, a smirk playing on his lips as she started adding things that definitely weren’t on the list—cartons of assorted berries, a pint of ice cream, and, to his utter amusement, an entire chocolate cake.
“That for me?” he teased, watching her place the cake on top of the frozen food section.
Rosie grinned, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Maybe.”
“Uh-huh,” he mused, his smirk widening as she continued her little shopping spree. He didn’t mind. Watching her so focused, her lips slightly pursed as she read labels and compared prices, was kind of adorable. And if it made her happy, then whatever—he’d push the damn cart full of sweets and overpriced cheese without complaint.
Later at the mall, Rosie followed behind Katsuki as he browsed through racks of clothes, due to his quirk, he burned through clothes a lot. She trailed after him, occasionally reaching out to fix the way a jacket was folded or running her fingers along different fabrics, but for the most part, she was just happy to watch him shop.
“You’re really into this, huh?” she teased as he held up a black button-down, examining it critically before tossing it over his arm.
“I like shit that fits right,” he shrugged, picking up another shirt.
Rosie hummed, looking around before something seemed to catch her eye. Without a word, she turned on her heel and wandered off into a store, disappearing through the entrance before he could ask where she was going.
Frowning, Katsuki followed her, curious about what had gotten her attention. When he stepped inside, his eyes scanned the boutique until he found her standing in front of a display, staring at a dress.
It wasn’t just any dress. It was a sexy little number, short and silky, with delicate lace that dipped low at the neckline. His mouth went dry as he imagined her in it, the way it would hug her curves, the way it would feel beneath his hands as he traced the fabric along her hips.
“You’re getting that,” he said firmly, coming up behind her.
Rosie startled slightly, her blush creeping up her neck. “I was just looking…”
“Try it on,” he insisted, already plucking her size from the rack and shoving it into her arms.
She looked up at him, lips parted, but he just crossed his arms over his chest, daring her to argue. Huffing, she relented and turned toward the dressing rooms.
Katsuki took a seat on the small bench outside her dressing room, pulling out his phone while he waited. He scrolled absently, checking his messages, but his focus wasn’t really on his screen. He kept glancing up, waiting for her to step out.
And then she did.
His breath caught.
The dress fit her like a damn dream, the fabric clinging to her body in all the right places, the lace accentuating the curve of her collarbones and dipping just low enough to make his fingers twitch. She stood there, shifting slightly under his intense gaze, her cheeks burning.
“What do you think?” she asked, her voice soft.
Katsuki’s mouth opened, but no words came out at first. He swallowed hard, his crimson eyes dragging over her from head to toe.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, standing up and closing the distance between them. His fingers skimmed the hem of the dress, his gaze hooded. “You’re gettin’ this. No arguments.”
Rosie laughed, flustered but pleased. “You really like it that much?”
Katsuki didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned in, his lips brushing just beneath her ear as he murmured, “You have no idea what you’re doin’ to me right now, Babydoll.”
Her breath hitched, and he smirked, satisfied.
Yeah. She was definitely getting the dress.
The moment they stepped into Katsuki’s apartment, Maya took off, her little pink bow bouncing as she ran excited circles around the living room, her paws skittering against the hardwood floor. Rosie barely acknowledged the excited poodle as she made a beeline toward his bathroom, her shopping bags in tow.
“I’m using your bathroom to get ready!” she called over her shoulder before disappearing inside, the door clicking shut behind her.
Katsuki huffed a chuckle, shaking his head as he kicked off his shoes and headed toward the kitchen. “Yeah, yeah, do whatever you want, princess,” he muttered under his breath setting his own bags down and pulling open the fridge to grab ingredients for a quick meal.
As he moved around the kitchen, chopping vegetables and setting rice to cook, the muffled sound of Rosie’s voice drifted from the bathroom. She was singing—loudly, unapologetically, and just slightly off-key. A smirk tugged at his lips as he listened, shaking his head at how damn cute she was. Every so often, he’d catch snippets of her humming between verses, the sound warm and familiar, like she belonged here.
By the time he had everything cooking, the water in the bathroom shut off, and he could hear the soft shuffle of Rosie moving around. He knew exactly where she was heading—his bedroom, where she had left her shopping bags.
With a satisfied grunt, Katsuki finished up in the kitchen before deciding to take a shower himself..
The moment he stepped inside, he was met with the sight of absolute chaos. Her makeup bag was unzipped and spilling out its contents, her hair tools scattered across the counter, various bottles of perfume, setting sprays, and lotions claiming every available inch of space.
His jaw clenched, not in frustration, but something else. Something he couldn’t quite put into words.
She had taken over his space.
And he fucking liked it.
It wasn’t just her presence in his bed, in his arms, in his life. She was here in the little things, the way her scent lingered on his towels, the way her perfume now mingled with the scent of his soap. Her makeup brushes sat next to his razor. Her bobby pins were scattered along the sink.
Rosie is everywhere.
And he wasn’t sure how he had lived before this.
Shaking off whatever the hell that feeling was, he stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water work out the tension in his muscles. Minutes later, he stepped out of the bathroom, a towel slung low around his hips, his damp hair still dripping slightly.
Rosie sat on his bed, wrapped in a silky robe, her legs tucked beneath her. Her hair was curled now, soft and bouncy, framing her face perfectly as she hummed a quiet tune to herself. She didn’t notice him at first, too focused on whatever was in her lap—probably picking through her outfits.
Katsuki smirked, shaking his head as he ran a towel through his hair before walking toward his closet. “You take up so much damn space in my apartment, Babydoll,” he muttered, voice laced with amusement.
Rosie glanced up, her lips curling into a teasing smile as her eyes shamelessly roamed over his bare chest. “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she mused, tilting her head.
He chuckled, low and rough, as he grabbed a clean pair of pants and a shirt. “Nah… I don’t mind.”
And as he pulled on his clothes, he realized just how true that was.
Katsuki tugged up his grey jeans, fastening his belt with a sharp click before reaching for his black compression sleeveless shirt. The tight fabric stretched over his toned chest and arms, hugging every defined muscle as he pulled on his open leather jacket—black with orange accents, the perfect mix of rugged and bold, just like him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he yanked on his socks before sliding his feet into his boots, lacing them up with practiced ease.
As he straightened, rolling his shoulders, his gaze drifted toward Rosie, who stood in front of the mirror, her fingers fumbling behind her back as she struggled to zip up her dress. The sight of her in that neon pink number had his breath hitching in his throat. Damn. His pupils blew wide as he took in the way the fabric clung to every soft curve, the hem teasing him as it stopped just under the curve of her ass. The sides of the dress were laced up with thin strings, revealing tempting glimpses of her bare skin.
His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his chest swelling with pride as he realized—he had bought that dress for her today. She was wearing it for him.
Katsuki’s breath was hot against the back of her neck as he loomed behind her, his crimson eyes locked onto hers in the mirror. The dim light of her bedroom cast a golden glow over their reflections, making the moment feel even more intimate, more dangerous. His rough hands brushed over her waist, fingertips dragging along the bare skin of her back before settling at the zipper of her dress.
“Shit, Babydoll…” he muttered, his voice low, dark, and dripping with something possessive. His fingers teased the fabric, barely tugging at the zipper as he smirked. “Strugglin’, huh?”
Rosie huffed softly, shifting her hips in frustration. “It’s tight.”
He chuckled, his smirk widening as he tugged the zipper up—slowly, agonizingly so—watching how the silky material molded to her body like a second skin. His hands smoothed over her waist, then trailed up, skimming her ribs before resting firmly on her bare shoulders.
“Yeah? That’s ‘cause it’s meant to be.” His voice was raspy, thick with something heavy, something primal. His fingers flexed, gripping her just enough to make her shiver. “Fuck, you look good.”
Rosie met his gaze in the mirror, her lips parting slightly as she took in the way he was looking at her—hungry, intense, like he wanted to devour her whole.
She swallowed hard, her voice soft when she spoke. “You’re really okay with me wearing this dress?”
Katsuki’s brows furrowed, his grip tightening just slightly. “Why the hell would I not be?”
“Because it’s revealing,” she said, shifting on her feet, knowing damn well that the dress hugged every single curve. “And short.”
He snorted, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear as he leaned in closer. “And?”
Her cheeks flushed, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. “You won’t get jealous?”
Katsuki scoffed, his lips quirking into a smirk, but there was something dark behind his eyes. “Jealous?” His voice was a low growl, sending a shiver down her spine. His hands slid down, gripping her hips firmly, pulling her back against him so she could feel just how much she was affecting him. “I don’t give a shit who looks at you,” he murmured against her skin, his lips grazing her shoulder. “But if anyone so much as thinks about puttin’ their hands on you?” His grip tightened, fingers digging into her flesh as he tilted his head, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the base of her neck. “I’ll fucking kill ‘em.”
Rosie gasped softly, her knees going weak as he ran his tongue over the sensitive spot before biting down just enough to make her whimper. His reflection in the mirror was all sharp angles and predatory hunger, his gaze locked onto her like he was staking his claim right then and there.
“You’re mine, Babydoll,” he murmured against her skin, dragging his lips up to her ear, his voice dripping with possessiveness. “And I don’t give a fuck who knows it.”
She gasped when his lips pressed against her warm skin, soft and slow. His mouth trailed along her shoulder, his breath fanning over her as he kissed his way up the curve of her neck. When he reached her ear, he nipped at the sensitive flesh, grinning when she squealed and wiggled against him.
“So damn sexy,” he murmured, his voice thick with admiration, his hands splaying over her stomach as he pulled her back against him. “My gorgeous girl.” Another kiss, this time just below her ear, followed by the softest growl as his fingers teased the laces on the sides of her dress. “Wearin’ this for me, huh? Lettin’ me show you off?”
Her breath hitched, her lashes fluttering as she whimpered. “Katsuki…”
“That’s right, say my name, princess,” he purred, rolling his hips against her, reveling in the way she melted against him, completely at his mercy.
She let out a breathy whine, her fingers gripping his forearms as she leaned into his touch. “You’re making it really hard to leave.”
Katsuki smirked, pressing one last open-mouthed kiss against the side of her throat. “Good.”
Just as he moved to claim her lips again, both of their phones started ringing simultaneously. Katsuki let out an irritated sigh, his forehead resting against her shoulder as the noise filled the room. Rosie giggled, wiggling out of his arms to grab her phone off the bed. He let her go—barely—his hands stubbornly remaining on her hips as she answered the call.
“Hey, Mina!” Rosie chirped, her voice light and happy.
Katsuki ignored his own phone, letting it buzz uselessly on the nightstand while he pulled her back against his chest. His arms wrapped around her waist as he nuzzled into her neck, inhaling her soft, floral scent. His grip tightened slightly when she absentmindedly ran her fingers through his hair, playing with the strands like she always did when she was distracted.
“I just finished getting ready,” she told Mina, her lips curving into a small smile. “Should be leaving soon.”
Katsuki listened to her chatter with Mina, her voice animated and warm, but all he cared about was how fucking good it felt to have her in his arms. He wanted her all to himself tonight, not at some party, not surrounded by their rowdy friends—but he knew that wasn’t an option.
Instead, he resigned himself to keeping a close eye on her the entire night, making sure she stayed close to him.
When the call ended, Rosie turned in his hold, tilting her head at him with a playful smirk. “You ready to go, grumpy?”
Katsuki rolled his eyes but nodded, reluctantly letting her go so they could finally leave.
The drive to Tetsutetsu’s place wasn’t long, but the moment they pulled up, Katsuki’s lips curled into a slight grimace. The entire house was alive with neon lights casting colorful glows onto the front lawn. Music blasted from inside, so loud that he could feel the bass vibrating through his chest even with the car doors shut. People loitered outside, some leaning against the porch railings, drinks in hand, while others were smoking in the yard.
Rosie, on the other hand, looked excited.
She turned to him with a smile, adjusting the hem of her before reaching for the door handle. But before she could step out, Katsuki beat her to it, getting out first and walking around the car to open her door for her.
Smiling, she placed a quick kiss to his cheek. He kept his hand hovered near her lower back as she stepped out. Together, they made their way toward the house. Rosie weaved effortlessly through the clusters of people, her presence drawing smiles and waves as she passed. Katsuki stayed close behind, his sharp eyes scanning their surroundings. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust their friends or the other fucking losers he goes to school with—he just didn’t like the idea of anyone getting too comfortable around her.
As soon as they stepped inside, the atmosphere thickened with heat and energy. The air was hazy, the scent of alcohol mingling with something sweeter—probably Mina’s favorite fruity cocktails. The living room was packed, bodies moving with the heavy beat of the music, but
Rosie knew exactly where she was going. She made a beeline for the kitchen, her face lighting up when she spotted Mina.“Mina!”
“Rosie, babe!” Mina squealed, immediately wrapping her in a tight hug.
Katsuki exhaled through his nose, shaking his head at their dramatics as he made his way to the other side of the kitchen. He didn’t need to hover—yet. Instead, he busied himself by making drinks, keeping an eye on her from across the room.
She was smiling, her hands gesturing animatedly as she spoke to Mina. He caught the way her nose scrunched up as she laughed, her dimples appearing as she leaned into her friend’s shoulder. It was a sight he could never get tired of.
Katsuki took a slow sip of his beer, his grip tightening slightly around the bottle as he watched Rosie from across the room. She was laughing, chatting easily with Mina and some of the other girls, her smile bright and carefree. But his eyes flickered—tracking every lingering glance, every unnecessary touch from some extra hands that had no damn business getting too comfortable with her. His jaw clenched, his teeth grinding slightly.
He was here to have a good time.
But if anyone got any ideas about his girl, he wouldn’t hesitate to remind them exactly who she belonged to.
Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to relax as he crossed the room toward her. His free hand clutched a red Solo cup filled with the drink he knew she liked, his beer bottle hanging loosely in the other. When he reached her side, she turned to him instantly, her eyes lighting up in that way that made his chest feel too damn tight.
“Thanks, Pomchi!” she beamed, taking the cup from him.
Leaning down, he let his lips brush against the shell of her ear, his voice a low murmur meant just for her. “Stay close, doll. And if you need a refill, you come to me.”
She swallowed, her fingers tightening around her cup as a pretty pink blush bloomed across her cheeks. “Okay…” she murmured softly, lowering her gaze, trying to hide behind her drink.
The urge to kiss her was overwhelming, to grip her chin and make her look at him, to remind her how much he fucking adored her. But instead, he settled for something more discreet—his fingers tapping lightly against the curve of her hip. The small gesture sent a jolt of warmth through him, satisfaction curling in his chest at the way she shivered under his touch.
Reluctantly, he pulled away, turning on his heel and heading toward the backyard.
He was giving her space to enjoy herself, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be watching. Especially when she was getting more than a few appreciative glances in that damn dress.
The one he picked out for her.
The one he bought for her.
And now, watching her prance around in it, her soft curves hugged in all the right places, it was making him hard.
Fuck.
Shoving that thought aside, he pushed open the sliding glass door and stepped onto the patio, where the guys were already gathered. The scent of grilled food and alcohol mixed with the cool night air, and he found Kirishima, Icy Hot, Izuku, and Kaminari all lounging around a small fire pit, drinks in hand.
“Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence,” Kaminari teased, raising his beer in Katsuki’s direction. “Figured you’d be too busy babysitting Rosie to come chill with us.”
Katsuki snorted, plopping down onto a chair, stretching out his legs. “She doesn’t need babysitting. Unlike you dumbasses, she actually has a functioning brain.”
Kirishima grinned, before leaning over and whispering, clinking his bottle against Katsuki’s. “So you’re just keeping an eye on her all night, huh?”
“Damn right I am,” Katsuki muttered, taking a swig of his beer. “Not gonna let some extra get any dumb ideas.”
Icy Hot snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, yeah, we all know you’d tear some poor guy apart if they so much as look at her wrong.”
Katsuki shot him a glare, his lips curling in annoyance. “Shut the hell up, half and half.”
Katsuki took another slow sip of his beer, his eyes flickering toward the house where he could still see Rosie laughing, her face glowing under the dim lights. His grip on the bottle tightened just slightly.
Damn right he would.
Notes:
I cannot wait for tomorrow's chapter, holy hell, fucking drama and spicy<3
Chapter 52: I don’t have to act. I do own him.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The night air was warm, a soft breeze carrying the scent of chlorine and alcohol as Rosie sat outside with the girls, drinks in hand, their laughter ringing softly under the glow of the string lights wrapped around the patio. The pool water shimmered, reflecting the golden light, the music from inside the house vibrating. Several people were in the pool hanging out and doing cannonballs.
Rosie leaned back against the cushioned lounge chair, swirling the drink in her hand, the ice clinking against the solo cup as she sighed contentedly. Mina was beside her, stretching her legs out as she took a sip of her makeshift cocktail, her gaze flickering to Rosie with something softer—concern masked beneath her usual playful smirk.
“So,” Mina started, tilting her head. “Are you sure you’re feeling better?”
Rosie raised a brow, looking over at her. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”
Mina gave her a pointed look. “Because I don’t wanna find you passed out against a door again.”
Rosie nearly choked on her drink, her face heating as the other girls snickered. “Mina,” she whined, pressing a hand over her face. “That was one time!”
“One time too many,” Mina shot back, crossing her arms. “Look, I know you like to pretend you’re fine all the time, but we actually care about you, y’know?”
Rosie softened, lowering her cup onto the small side table. “I know,” she murmured. “But really, I’m good. I was just—” she hesitated, glancing down for a moment before meeting Mina’s gaze again. “I just pushed myself too far with work and school. I wasn’t taking care of myself the way I should have, but I am now. I promise. Thank you again for coming to check up on me and getting me into my apartment.”
Mina studied her for a moment before sighing, shaking her head. “Alright, alright. I believe you.” Then, her smirk returned as she wiggled her brows. “But if you do pass out again, at least let it be in Bakugou’s arms, for the drama.”
Rosie giggled, throwing her head back as the girls erupted into laughter. “You are impossible.”
Mina grinned, raising her drink. “That’s why you love me, babe.”
Rosie rolled her eyes but clinked her glass against Mina’s anyway, smiling, the worry lingering in Mina’s eyes fading just a little. Mina had been the one to find her passed out in front of her apartment the other night and had helped her into her apartment. She had come over to check up on her after worrying about her since they left the library and found her unconscious in front of her apartment door.
“OOOO I love this song! Let’s go dance!” Uraraka clapped her hands setting her drink down
Momo was quick to get up along with Jirou, Toru, Mina, and her all heading back into the house to dance. Immediately they went into the living room where others were dancing, drinks in their hands.
The bass thrummed through the floor, vibrating up Rosie’s legs as she swayed to the beat, her hands up in the air as Mina twirled her, both of them laughing. The dark room was alive with movement, neon lights flashing in shades of blue and purple, illuminating the sea of sweaty bodies grinding together. Uraraka giggled as she spun Momo in a playful circle, Jirou moving her hips in sync with the rhythm while Toru jumped between them, her laughter loud even over the music. The heat of the room, the rush of alcohol in her veins, and the euphoria of the moment made Rosie’s head feel light.
She tipped back the last of her drink, the burn of alcohol warming her throat as she lowered the empty cup. “I’m gonna go find Katsuki and get another drink,” she announced, her voice slightly breathless from dancing.
Mina gave her a teasing smirk. “Can’t stay away for too long, huh?”
Rosie rolled her eyes but grinned, turning on her heel as she made her way toward the back of the house. The party spilled into the large backyard, where string lights glowed against the darkness, illuminating groups of people gathered around tables playing drinking games. The crisp night air was a welcome relief from the sweltering heat inside. She weaved through the crowd, her eyes scanning over the different games—beer pong, flip cup, drinking roulette. Laughter and cheers echoed through the yard as players took their turns, drinks sloshing over the rims of their cups.
And then, in the farthest corner of the backyard, half-shadowed beneath a tree and the dim glow of the string lights, she spotted him.
Katsuki stood against the fence, his broad frame relaxed, one hand tucked in his pocket while the other lifted a cup to his lips. His ash-blonde hair caught the faint light, and even in the darkness, she could see the sharp angles of his face, the way his crimson eyes flickered over the game happening in front of him. He looked effortlessly cool, as always.
Rosie smiled, about to call out to him—until she saw her.
A beautiful girl stood next to him, her short, straight hair barely touching the top of her bare shoulders, the dress she wore hugging every curve and like hers was scandalously short and revealing. She was laughing, leaning just a little too close to him, her fingers brushing his forearm as she spoke.
Rosie’s stomach twisted, an unfamiliar heat burning in her chest as jealousy clawed its way up her throat. Her jaw clenched, fingers tightening at her sides as her steps quickened. She barely thought—her body moving on pure instinct and the alcohol in her veins as she closed the distance between them.
She didn’t slow as she reached him, slipping directly between the girl and Katsuki, pressing her back against his chest, nearly touching him. She felt the warmth of his body immediately, the solidness of him anchoring her, and the moment she was in his space, she noticed his eyes snap onto her, sharp and intense.
“Hey,” she said, her voice smooth despite the fire burning inside her.
Katsuki’s gaze darkened, his attention completely shifting to her as he tilted his head slightly, taking her in. His eyes flickered down to the way she had wedged herself between him and the other girl, to the way her body practically molded against his.
His lips twitched slightly, “hey, Babydoll,” he murmured, his voice low, rough, like he was already amused by her little display.
The other girl scoffed, her frustration bubbling just beneath the surface as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Uh, excuse me, we were talking,” she snapped, clearly irritated by Rosie’s sudden intrusion.
Rosie barely spared her a glance, her lips curving into a slow, sweet smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Oh… were you?” she murmured, feigning innocence, choosing instead to tilt her head back against his chest, looking up at him through her lashes. “You didn’t come find me,” she pouted, reaching for his drink and taking a slow sip.
Katsuki smirked, his hand instinctively finding her waist, fingers gripping her just enough to let her know he wasn’t going anywhere. “Didn’t think you’d miss me already, especially since I knew you were going to be dancing your ass off with the girls.”
The other girl, clearly not willing to back down just yet, huffed in frustration. “Yeah, we were. He was just telling me about his work. Right?” She looked at Katsuki, batting her lashes in a last-ditch effort to reclaim his attention that Rosie suspected that she didn’t even have in the first place.
Rosie tilted her head, her brows raising in mock surprise. “Oh, is that so?” Turning in his arms, she dragged her fingers lightly over his chest before slipping them around his neck as she began to play with the hair at the nape of his neck before she leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss just below his jaw. “Strange… he doesn’t really like small talk.” Her voice was sweet, but her eyes were sharp, watching as the other girl’s expression shifted from smug to annoyed. “Always miss you, especially when I’m dancing,” she purred, her lips barely brushing against his jaw.
Katsuki inhaled sharply, his grip tightening. “Fuckin’ brat,” he muttered, but his smirk widened, his attention solely on her now.
Rosie hummed, “you’ve never complained before.”
“Katsuki!” The girl snapped outraged, “are you seriously going to pretend like we weren’t having a conversation?!”
Katsuki chuckled, his grip on Rosie’s waist tightening as he took a sip of his drink. “Yeah, can’t say I was all that interested in the conversation which was more of you just talking my ear off and me just standing here.” His voice was low, rough, his amusement clear.
The girl’s lips parted slightly, her cheeks flushing in frustration and embarrassment. “Are you serious?” she scoffed, glaring at Rosie. “You’re going to choose her over me?!”
He smirked, causing her to turn to Rosie, “You can’t just barge in and act like you own him!”
Rosie turned her head, finally looking at the girl fully, her smile widening. “Oh, sweetheart,” she cooed, tilting her head as if she actually pitied her. “I don’t have to act. I do own him.” Her fingers dragged slowly down Katsuki’s chest before slipping under the hem of his tight shirt, her touch featherlight against his warm skin. She smirked when she felt his muscles tense under her fingertips.
Katsuki, thoroughly enjoying the show, leaned down, his lips brushing against Rosie’s ear as he muttered, “You’re such a fuckin’ tease.” His voice sent a delicious shiver down her spine, and she grinned, knowing she had him exactly where she wanted.
The girl scoffed, her face twisted in disbelief. “Unreal. You’re seriously gonna let her do this?” she snapped at Katsuki.
He shrugged, his smirk lazy and smug. “Only problem I see here is you.”
Rosie let out a soft hum, pressing herself fully against him, making sure every single movement was deliberate. “You were saying?” she asked sweetly, blinking up at the girl like she hadn’t just completely dominated the situation.
The girl let out an exasperated noise, her face contorting in frustration before she finally threw her hands in the air. “Whatever. She looks like a fucking whore anyway.”
Rosie didn’t even blink. If that was the best she had, then it wasn’t even worth acknowledging. She simply smiled as she watched her storm off, disappearing into the crowd. She turned back to Katsuki, utterly pleased with herself. “Well, that was fun.”
“You’re so fucking hot,” he groaned as she stood on her toes to kiss his nose, giggling. “You wear jealousy so fucking well, pretty girl.”
Because even with heels, he still towered over her and she liked how he towered over her so easily. She smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief “I’d wear nothing but your shirt very well too.”
His hands flexed at her waist, his grip almost bruising. “You make it so hard for me to keep my hands to myself.”
Slipping out of his hold with a giggle, she grinned up at him. “I only came to ask for you to get me another drink.”
Katsuki exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes as he grabbed her hand. “C’mon.”
He led her through the crowd, weaving effortlessly through the bodies until they stepped back inside the house. The bass of the music vibrated through the walls, the air thick with the scent of alcohol and laughter. But Katsuki didn’t pause, guiding her straight into the kitchen.
Rosie hopped onto the counter, watching as he moved with practiced ease, grabbing ingredients and mixing her a drink—the same sweet, fruity one he had made for her before. She hummed as he handed her the red plastic cup, blinking up at him as she took a sip. The sweetness burst on her tongue, perfectly balanced, just the way she liked it. She tilted her head, pressing a soft kiss to the sharp curve of his jaw before hopping off the counter smiling. “If you need me, I’ll be dancing with the girls.”
The night was alive with laughter, music, and the clinking of shot glasses. Rosie sat cross-legged on the grass, a warm buzz thrumming through her veins as she cheered loudly for Momo and Toru, who were currently dominating the beer pong table.
“Let’s go, ladies!” she hollered, lifting her drink in the air before taking a long sip, the alcohol burning pleasantly down her throat. “Wipe the floor with them!”
Mina was cackling beside her, nudging her playfully. “They’re on fire! But I think the guys are catching on.”
Sure enough, as the game progressed, Momo and Toru’s winning streak began to waver. One missed shot turned into two, then three, and suddenly, they were on the losing end.
“NOOO!” Rosie dramatically flopped against Mina’s shoulder as the guys on the other team whooped in victory. “Don’t let them win!”
“We got this!” Momo said determinedly, straightening her shoulders before promptly missing her shot again.
Toru groaned before grabbing her drink. “Screw it, we’ll just chug!”
A chorus of cheers erupted as both Momo and Toru started downing their shots, the two of them giggling as the alcohol took hold. Rosie joined in, tipping back her own drink and relishing the warm, lazy heat spreading through her limbs.
She was relaxed, happy, floating in a haze of alcohol and laughter.
Then she felt someone crash into her, she blinked bleary eyed to see a tall guy with short white hair wearing a baseball cap, his bright green eyes peering at her as he was quick to apologize. "I'm so sorry!" He panted, "I didn't see you there!"
"It's okay," she waved him off.
"Are you sure?" He asked, blinking in concern.
A girl with red hair stumbled to his side, whispering in his ear as she held a red solo cup in her hand, giggling, before yanking on his shirt tugging him away.
"Yeah, no worries," she smiled. "Everyone's drunk or tipsy around here, don't worry about it." She made a point to gesture to the rest of the occupants in the backyard, but then, she turned her head—and her drunken haze sharpened into something else entirely.
Across the yard, Katsuki and some of the guys had started their own game—arm wrestling.
Rosie’s breath hitched as she watched him, his forearms flexing, the veins in his hands prominent as he gripped his opponent’s wrist with an iron hold. His jaw was tight, his crimson eyes locked in determination, his sharp canines flashing as he smirked cockily. The black compression shirt he wore clung to him like a second skin, accentuating every defined muscle, every ridge of strength.
God, he was so fucking hot.
Her thighs pressed together instinctively as a wave of heat rolled through her—not just from the alcohol but from something much filthier.
She imagined those same hands wrapped around her wrists, pinning them above her head as his deep voice growled filth in her ear. She thought about how rough he could be, how good it felt when he manhandled her, treated her like she was his possession.
“That’s all you are, right? Just my needy little slut?”
Rosie’s breath came out shaky, her lips parting as she squeezed her thighs together harder.
She wanted him to ruin her. She wanted him to grab her by the hair, make her kneel, force her to obey. She wanted to hear him call her names that would make her burn with shame and arousal all at once.
Her eyes dragged over his body hungrily, her drunken mind spiraling into wicked fantasies. His calloused fingers gripping her throat, his sharp teeth sinking into her shoulder, his voice dark and mocking as he degraded her in the most delicious ways.
“Rosie?”
She startled, blinking rapidly as she tore her gaze away from Katsuki and turned to see Mina smirking at her knowingly. “Hmm?” Rosie tried to sound innocent, but her voice was breathy, uneven.
Mina’s smirk widened. “Oh, nothing~” she teased, leaning in closer. “You just looked like you were having some real interesting thoughts over there.”
Rosie’s cheeks burned, her lips parting to deny it—but then Katsuki slammed his opponent’s hand down against the table with a victorious growl, flexing his arms as he stood up, radiating dominance and confidence.
Rosie’s mouth went dry.
Yeah… she needed him. Badly.
How the hell did she land sin incarnate as her boyfriend? It didn’t make sense. Not to her. Katsuki Bakugo—deadly, brilliant, undeniably gorgeous Katsuki—chose her. He had told her why before, but even then, she still struggled to understand how she was the exception to his no-girlfriend rule.
It wasn’t like she didn’t know her worth. Rosie knew she was beautiful, had a good head on her shoulders, a body she took pride in—but Katsuki? He was on a different level. Everything about him was overwhelming. From the sharp cut of his jaw to the deep rasp of his voice, the way he moved, all raw strength and precision, the way his mind worked, always five steps ahead of everyone else. He was dangerous, powerful, and yet, when he looked at her, it was like she was the only thing that ever mattered.
Shaking her head, she turned back toward the girls, downing another drink before they all made their way inside. The club was alive with the thrum of music, neon lights casting colors across the dance floor as they melted into the crowd, hips swaying, laughter bubbling between them as they danced.
The hours blurred together in a haze of music, alcohol, and heat. Rosie wasn’t drunk, not completely, but she was definitely on the border of tipsy and wasted, her limbs warm, her body loose, her thoughts uninhibited.
After touching up her lip gloss in the bathroom, she stepped out, smoothing down her dress, ready to return to the dance floor—only to turn the corner and run straight into a wall of muscle.
Large, warm hands steadied her hips, a rough, familiar chuckle rumbling in his chest. “You good, Babydoll?”
Her head snapped up, her breath catching at the sight of Katsuki smiling down at her, sharp and knowing, his crimson eyes flickering over her face, her slightly dazed expression, her freshly glossed lips.
And suddenly, all those filthy little fantasies she had been trying to shove down all night came roaring back to life.
Before she could second-guess herself, before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed his hand, yanking him forward, ignoring his raised brow as she pulled him down the hall, up the stairs, toward the bedrooms on the second floor.
Katsuki let her lead him, though his steps were slow, controlled, as if he was already onto her.
“Where we goin’, huh?” His voice was all lazy amusement, but there was an edge beneath it, curiosity laced with warning.
She ignored him, pushing open the first empty bedroom she could find, dragging him inside before slamming the door shut and locking it behind them.
And then she was on him.
Her hands fisted his jacket, yanking him down to her level as she crashed her lips against his, her body pressing flush against his. Katsuki grunted in surprise before groaning, his arms snapping around her waist, his hands immediately finding their home on her hips as he kissed her back, hard and unrelenting.
She guided him backward, making him stumble until the backs of his knees hit the bed, forcing him to sit. Without hesitation, she climbed into his lap, straddling him, her fingers tangling in his hair, tugging lightly—just how she knew he liked.
Katsuki growled against her lips, his hands roaming, gripping her waist, squeezing, teasing his fingers beneath the hem of her dress.“You’re a damn eager little thing, aren’t ya?” he murmured, smirking against her mouth as his hands slid up her thighs.
She shivered, whining softly, grinding down against him, desperate for friction. “Need you,” she breathed, her voice soft, pleading.
His smirk faltered. Katsuki stilled, his grip tightening just slightly before he sighed, his forehead dropping against her shoulder. “Rosie,” he muttered, voice strained, “you’re drunk.”
“I’m not drunk,” she whined, squirming in his lap. “Just tipsy.”
Katsuki pulled back, cupping her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. “Yeah? And if I fuck you right now at some rando’s house at a party while you’re tipsy and not thinkin’ straight, what kinda boyfriend would that make me?”
She pouted, her hands gripping his shoulders. “A really good one who makes his girlfriend feel good.”
Katsuki exhaled sharply, closing his eyes for a second like he was trying to rein in his patience. “I’m not fuckin’ you like this, Rosie.”
She whined, her bottom lip jutting out, her hips rocking against his instinctively, seeking any kind of relief. “But—”
“No,” he growled, hands gripping her hips to still her movements. “Don’t tempt me, Baby. Not like this.”
Rosie groaned, frustrated beyond belief, burying her face in his neck. “You’re too good, Katsuki.”
He let out a dry chuckle, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Damn right, I am.”
“Let’s go then,” she sighed, moving to get up but his tight grip on her kept her in place.
“I said that I wasn’t going to fuck you,” he stated. “Not that I wouldn’t help you.”
She felt her face go warm, from the alcohol and her own shyness creeping in but the alcohol made her bold.
Rosie’s breath hitched, her heart hammering against her ribs as she felt Katsuki’s hands tighten around her hips, holding her in place against him. His body was solid, burning hot, and the control he exerted over himself—over her—sent a shiver down her spine.
She swallowed hard, her lips parting as she struggled to find the right words, to admit what she wanted. Katsuki had always been patient with her, his touch firm yet careful, his kisses deep but never overwhelming. He let her set the pace, let her take her time, never pushing, never demanding. And she liked that about him—liked the way he cherished her, the way he treated her like she was something precious.
But tonight…
Tonight, she wanted something different.
She wanted him to take.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached up, curling them into his shirt. “You said we could try something new tonight,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.
Katsuki exhaled sharply, his forehead pressing against hers, his thumb brushing slow circles against the bare skin of her thigh. “Yeah,” he murmured. “So tell me, Baby.”
Rosie hesitated, her face burning, both from the alcohol and from the weight of her own desire pressing down on her. She felt ridiculous—shy, embarrassed—like if she admitted it out loud, it would be too real, too raw. But the heat in Katsuki’s gaze, the knowing smirk on his lips, told her he already knew.
“Go on,” he coaxed, his tone edged with something dark, something teasing. “Say it, Babydoll.”
Her lashes fluttered, her nails digging into his shirt as she drew in a shaky breath. “I like that you’re soft with me… gentle and patient…” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “But…”
Katsuki’s smirk widened, his hands gripping her tighter, his fingers digging into her flesh just enough to make her whimper. “But?” he pressed, his voice low and commanding, making her stomach twist in knots.
She swallowed, feeling lightheaded from the way he was looking at her, the way he was holding her in place like he already owned her. Like he was waiting for permission to unleash what had been simmering under the surface for so long.
Her lips parted, and when she spoke, the words tumbled out, breathless and raw. “I want you to be rough with me, dominant and controlling,” she whispered.
The air between them crackled, thick with something dangerous, something intoxicating. Katsuki’s smirk disappeared, replaced by something darker, more primal. His crimson eyes bore into hers, his grip on her tightening as he tilted his head, his breath hot against her lips. “Yeah?” he rasped.
Rosie nodded, her breath shuddering.
“You want me to tell you what to do?” he continued, his voice dropping lower, rougher. “Make you beg for it?”
She felt her body heat skyrocket, every nerve ending in her body lighting up as she clenched her thighs together. “Yes…” she breathed, barely able to say it out loud.
Katsuki hummed, his fingers sliding up her waist, his touch light, teasing. “You want me to put you in your place, Babydoll?”
Her throat went dry, her body arching instinctively toward him, her hips pressing against his, desperate for friction. “Please…” she whispered.
His grip on her tightened, his hands sliding down to squeeze her ass, forcing her against him harder. He chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “Knew you were a needy little thing,” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement.
Rosie shivered, heat pooling low in her stomach, her breath catching in her throat. He was teasing her, playing with her, dragging it out on purpose.
“You don’t have to be so soft with me,” she admitted, her voice shaky but certain. “I can take it.”
Katsuki let out a low growl, his fingers digging into her flesh, his breath heavy against her ear. “That so?”
Rosie nodded, pressing her forehead against his shoulder, her heart racing. “I want you to be rough with me. Control me. Order me around. I want you to…” She hesitated, biting her lip.
He pulled back just enough to look her in the eye, his expression unreadable. “Say it, Babydoll,” he murmured.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “I want you to use me,” she admitted, her voice shaking but resolute. “I want you to call me names. I—I want you to break me but only when…when we’re intimate.”
Katsuki let out a sharp breath, his fingers tightening on her so hard she was sure there would be bruises tomorrow. But she didn’t care. She wanted him to hold her like this, to lose himself in her, to claim her like she belonged to him. Because she did.
His jaw ticked, his crimson eyes dark and heavy-lidded as he stared at her like he was seeing her for the first time. “Fuck, Babydoll,” he muttered, running his tongue over his teeth. “You really are tryin’ to kill me.”
“I’m not,” she argued lamely, though the flush on her cheeks said otherwise.
He chuckled, the sound low and rough, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as his fingers lingered against her skin. “Are you ready to leave then?”
She swallowed, nodding. “Yes.”
“Then let’s go.”
The drive back to Katsuki’s place was quiet, thick with anticipation, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. Rosie’s mind was racing, but her body was already buzzing from the way Katsuki held her hand, his thumb tracing idle circles over her skin as he drove.
She stole a glance at him, taking in the way his sharp jaw clenched, his golden skin illuminated by the soft glow of the dashboard. He had one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his thigh—holding her hand, his fingers occasionally bringing hers up to his lips, pressing lazy kisses against her knuckles. Each brush of his lips made her stomach flip, her thighs pressing together as she tried to focus on anything other than the growing heat between them.
Her thoughts drifted to the romance novels she read—the dark ones, the ones that left her feeling breathless and a little guilty for enjoying them so much. Men who were dominant, controlling, some of them murderers, psychopaths who chased the female leads through the woods in masks with knives in their hands, only to fuck them senseless when they caught them. It was twisted, it was raunchy, and it was exactly the kind of thing that made her stomach coil with forbidden excitement.
When she started dating Katsuki, she figured she’d lock those fantasies away, push them down so deep that they’d never see the light of day. But the more intimate they became, the more she craved those things with him. She wanted his control, wanted him to push her limits, to force her into submission in ways that left her dizzy with pleasure.
And as she sat there, her hand trapped in his, her body already aching for him. By the time they pulled into the parking garage beneath his apartment, Rosie could barely think straight. The tension between them was suffocating, electric, making it hard to breathe.
Katsuki parked and wasted no time getting out of the car. He walked over to her side, yanked the door open, and before she could even think, he scooped her up into his arms. She gasped, her arms flying around his neck as he carried her effortlessly, his grip firm and possessive.
“Katsuki—”
“Shut up,” he muttered, his voice gruff, but not unkind. His lips brushed the shell of her ear as he walked them toward the elevator. “You know exactly what you do to me when you wear shit like that.”
Her breath hitched, her thighs squeezing around his waist as he held her effortlessly. She wanted to tease him, to ask him exactly what he meant, but the dark look in his eyes had her swallowing her words.
The elevator ride was unbearable. The tension, the heat radiating off his body, the way his hands shifted against her thighs as he held her. By the time the doors slid open to his floor, she felt like she was going to explode.
Katsuki carried her straight into his apartment, kicking the door shut behind him before locking it with a sharp click. He didn’t set her down right away—just held her there, looking at her like he was deciding exactly what to do with her.
Then, his voice came, low and commanding. “Go change.”
She blinked up at him, breathless. “Change into what?”
His grip tightened for a second before he finally set her down on her feet. He didn’t let go immediately, though, his fingers trailing down her arms before he pulled away. “Top drawer. The black shirt. You know the one.”
Her heart skipped. Oh. Oh.
That shirt. It was one of his, oversized, worn, smelling just like him. It was also the first shirt of his that she wore, one that had become his favorite to see her in.
She swallowed hard, her thighs pressing together as she nodded.
“Put it on. And then sit on my bed.” His voice dropped, eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. “On your knees.”
Her stomach twisted with apprehension. And yet, she obeyed.
She padded toward his bedroom, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached for the hem of her dress, slowly pulling it over her head. The air was cool against her heated skin, her breath shaky as she unclasped her bra, letting it slide down her arms before tossing it onto the pile. She turned to his dresser, pulling open the top drawer. And there it was—the black shirt. Soft, worn, and entirely too big for her. She tugged it over her head, the fabric draping over her body, falling just past her thighs, covering her but not nearly enough. Her reflection in the mirror made her stomach twist in anticipation. She looked small in his shirt, swallowed by the fabric, her bare legs peeking out beneath the hem. Her nipples were slightly visible through the thin material, and she bit her lip, already feeling warm all over.
Taking a shaky breath, she turned to his bed, climbing onto the mattress. Slowly, she settled onto her knees, sitting back on her heels, just as he had told her to.
And then, she waited. Her heart pounded in her chest, her hands gripping her thighs as she sat there, vulnerable, completely at his mercy.
Would he take his time? Would he make her wait, make her squirm? Or would he give in to that burning, impatient need she saw in his eyes?
Her breath caught in her throat as she heard the door creak open, the sound of Katsuki's heavy footsteps growing closer, slow and deliberate. A shiver ran down her spine as she braced herself for what was coming. Then, his voice—low and rough, carrying a trace of something dark and commanding—filled the space between them. “Good girl.”
She swallowed hard, heart racing as she watched him step further into the room. He had already changed out of his party clothes, his muscular frame now covered by only black sweats, his chest bare. Every movement was effortless, exuding an energy that made her pulse quicken. It felt almost unfair how undeniably sexy he was—how every inch of him seemed crafted to draw her in.
Katsuki moved toward the bed, settling against the headboard with an air of confidence and dominance. He crossed his arms over his chest, eyes locking with hers, almost glowing in the dim light. A couple of moments passed in silence before he spoke again, his words laced with a quiet intensity.
“Straddle my thigh.”
She hesitated for a moment, unsure if she was ready for this, but the dark hunger in his gaze made it impossible to resist. She nodded shyly, shifting to position herself, her body obeying his command with a mix of nervous anticipation and excitement.
As she straddled his thigh, she could feel the heat between them growing, her pulse echoing in her ears. His eyes never left her as she settled, his expression one of quiet control, as if he were waiting for her to take the next step.
"Choose a word."
It took everything in her not to fidget under his stare, but she did as he asked, her voice soft but steady as she whispered, “Strawberry.”
She watched the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips, but it was gone just as quickly, his face hardening once more with that familiar intensity. His command came again, each word drawing her further into the moment.
“Now, get yourself off.”
Her breath hitched, cheeks flushing as she nodded meekly. It felt overwhelming, but the need to obey him, to feel his approval, made her movements steady despite the rush of nerves. She slowly rocked against his thigh, her fingers gripping the edge of the bed to steady herself. The friction was intoxicating, the heat of his body beneath hers adding to the growing pressure between her legs.
Each movement brought her closer, the sounds of her breath and soft whimpers filling the space. She whispered his name—“Katsuki”—as the pleasure built, her body quivering in the tension of it all.
Then, just as she thought she was on the edge, everything shifted. In a single, fluid motion, he flipped their positions, sending her beneath him.
Her back hit the bed with a soft thud, and before she could react, his lips were on hers, hot and urgent. He kissed her with a hunger that matched her own, his hands moving to hold her close as if he were trying to memorize every inch of her.
“You’re so good, baby,” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with praise, rough with something deeper, something possessive. “So fucking good.”
Rosie shuddered beneath him, her fingers curling into the sheets as heat spread through her chest. She loved his praise, the way his voice dripped with satisfaction when she obeyed him. She loved knowing she had done something right—something that made his eyes darken, his touch tighten, his breath hitch against her skin.
“Katsuki…” she whimpered, her voice barely more than a breath as he tilted her head to the side, lips trailing down her jaw before finding the sensitive skin of her neck. His teeth grazed her there, a sharp nip that sent a jolt of pleasure straight through her. Her back arched involuntarily, pressing her body closer to his, craving more.
His hands, large and calloused, found her hips beneath the oversized shirt she wore. His grip was firm, thumbs pressing into her skin like he wanted to brand her, to leave behind proof that she belonged to him. His fingers flexed, then tightened, pulling her against him in a slow, deliberate movement that made her pulse stutter.
“You feel so good,” he muttered against her throat, his voice a low rasp. His lips trailed lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses down to her collarbone, his tongue flicking against her skin before he sucked lightly, leaving a mark that made her gasp.
She was dizzy from his touch, from the heat between them, from the way he was completely surrounding her—his body, his scent, the rough scrape of his hands. She tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging lightly, desperate for more.
Katsuki groaned at the sensation, his lips returning to hers in a kiss that was deeper, hungrier. His tongue slid against hers, tasting, claiming, leaving no room for hesitation. He kissed her like he wanted to consume her, like he couldn’t get enough.
Her nails raked down his bare back, and he let out a low growl in response, pressing her further into the mattress. His knee shifted between her legs, and she gasped against his mouth, her body reacting instinctively to the pressure.
“Fuck,” he breathed, pulling back just enough to look at her, his pupils blown wide, his expression dark and intense. “Look at you.” His thumb brushed over her swollen lips, his touch almost reverent. “So fucking perfect.”
Her heart pounded, her body burning under his praise, his touch, the way he was looking at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. She swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper as she murmured, “Kiss me again.”
He didn’t need to be told twice.
Katsuki crashed his lips against hers, and she melted into him, letting herself drown in the heat, the hunger, the overwhelming need that consumed them both.
“More… please…” Rosie panted, her voice breathy, need laced in every syllable.
Katsuki hovered above her, his crimson eyes dark with hunger, his fingers digging into her hips as he held her still beneath him. But he didn’t move to give her what she wanted—not yet.
“Tell me what it is that you want,” he murmured, his tone low, commanding, daring her to say it aloud.
Rosie swallowed, her cheeks burning, but she refused to shy away. Summoning every ounce of confidence she could muster, she reached for his hand, guiding it up her body until it rested over her chest. “I want you to touch me here,” she whispered, her face pink as she tried to hold his gaze.
Katsuki arched a brow, his lips twitching into something smug. “Then take it off.”
Her breath hitched, but she obeyed. Sitting up, she reached for the hem of her oversized shirt, hesitating only for a split second before pulling it over her head. The fabric slipped away, leaving her in nothing but her panties, her arms twitching as if she wanted to cover herself but resisted the urge. She swallowed, her face burning as she tossed the shirt aside, avoiding his gaze.
Silence stretched between them for a moment, and then—
“Fuck.”
The sheer weight of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. It wasn’t just the word itself, but the way he said it—deep, raspy, almost reverent.
Before she could process, his mouth latched onto her neck, teeth grazing, lips hot and demanding against her sensitive skin. A surprised squeak left her lips as he guided them back down onto the bed, his body pressing against hers. His kisses trailed lower, heat pooling in her stomach as he moved past her collarbone, his hands sliding over her sides before his lips finally found her breast. His tongue flicked over the sensitive skin, his mouth warm and firm, and she gasped, arching into him.
Rosie wasn’t the biggest, but she wasn’t small either. She liked to believe her D-cups were perfectly average—more than enough, at least for him. And judging by the way his hands and mouth worshiped her, she was right.
“Katsuki,” she moaned, her fingers threading through his hair, tugging lightly.
His responding groan vibrated against her skin, sending sparks of pleasure straight through her. His hands gripped her waist, fingers digging into her skin as he nipped and sucked her nipple as his other hand pinched and prodded, leaving behind marks that made her head spin.
Just as his lips began trailing lower—her phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand.
Rosie barely registered it at first, too caught up in him, until the screen lit up with an incoming FaceTime call. Dad.
Her stomach dropped.
“Shit,” she gasped, immediately pushing at Katsuki’s shoulders. He let out a frustrated grunt, his head snapping up, his brows furrowing in irritation.
“The fuck—”
“It’s my dad,” she sighed, scrambling off the bed. She snatched her shirt from the floor, yanking it back over her head in record time as the phone buzzed again. Her heart pounded for an entirely different reason now.
Katsuki groaned, flopping back against the bed, running a hand down his face as he muttered, “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Every damn time.”
Rosie giggled, grabbing her phone and bolting out of the room, declining the FaceTime call as she hurried into the hallway. She pressed her back against the wall, catching her breath before calling him back.
Her father picked up on the second ring. “Hey, sunshine,” his voice was warm, tinged with concern. “How’re you feeling?”
Rosie swallowed, quickly shifting gears. “Better,” she said, trying to sound as normal as possible. “My fever broke.”
“Good,” he exhaled, relief evident in his tone. “Where are you?”
She hesitated. “Uh… still at Tetsutetsu’s party.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. She had been at Tetsutetsu’s party earlier—before she ended up in Katsuki’s bed.
“You should be taking it easy,” her dad chided lightly. “You were sick as hell earlier.”
“I know,” she said quickly, trying to sound convincing. “I was just about to leave, actually.”
Before he could say anything else, she heard it—a low grunt, followed by the distant sound of something heavy hitting the ground.
Her stomach twisted.
“Have to go, sunshine.”
Her breath caught. She knew that tone. Knew exactly what it meant. Something was happening.
“…Be safe,” she whispered. “I love you, Dad.”
“I love you too.”
The line went dead.
Rosie exhaled, gripping the phone tightly in her hand. She stood there for a moment, heart hammering, trying to shake the uneasy feeling creeping up her spine.
With a deep breath, she pushed it aside and turned back toward the bedroom.
When she stepped inside, Katsuki was lying in bed, scrolling through his phone, the glow from the screen illuminating his sharp features. He didn’t look up when she climbed in next to him, but she could feel the heat radiating off of him.
She set her phone down on the nightstand and shifted closer, resting her head against his shoulder.
“…Everything good?” he asked, his voice gruff.
“Yeah,” she murmured, her fingers lightly tracing over his arm. “Just my dad checking in on me being sick.”
Katsuki hummed, finally locking his phone and tossing it onto the mattress. Without another word, his arm slid around her waist, pulling her snug against him and just like that, she melted into his warmth, letting the tension slowly ease from her body. She felt him bury his face into her hair, a common thing he liked to do when they cuddled.
“I really like you,” he mumbled into her hair.
“I really like you too,” she flushed, shifting to look up at him to see him staring down at her with that same intensity that set her insides on fire.
Notes:
When the chapter got so long you had to break it up into two chapters lol anyway more drama in the next chapter😏 enjoyed writing this one💖
Don’t forget to follow me on Tumblr! It’s ValentineHeart14!
Chapter 53: You’re definitely not my idiot son.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie and Katsuki spent most of the morning tangled in bed, bodies pressed close, exchanging slow, lazy kisses as the sun crept through the blinds. There was no urgency, no rush—just warmth, soft touches, and the quiet intimacy of being wrapped up in each other. Katsuki’s fingers traced idle patterns along her back, his lips brushing over her temple, down to her jaw, before capturing her lips once more.
“Mmm, don’t go,” he muttered, voice thick with sleep, pulling her closer when she tried to move.
Rosie giggled, nudging her nose against his. “I have to, you dummy. I have work.”
“Tch,” he grumbled but loosened his grip, watching with half-lidded eyes as she finally rolled out of bed. He propped himself up on his elbow, gaze trailing over her as she stretched. “You’re really gonna leave me here all alone?”
She shot him a teasing look as she pulled out her uniform. “You’ll live.”
Katsuki scoffed but didn’t argue. Instead, after she finished getting ready, he pulled her in for one last kiss before driving her to work. When they arrived, he leaned over, gripping her waist and kissing her deeply, ignoring the groan of annoyance from the car behind them.
As she pulled away, flustered and breathless, he smirked and delivered a sharp smack to her butt, making her squeak.
“Have a great day,” he said smugly. “I’ll pick you up later.”
Rosie rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips as she stepped out of the car and into Ishlamare, the cozy little coffee shop where she worked.
The moment she walked in, she realized just how slammed they were.
The shop buzzed with activity—college students, looking absolutely wrecked, crowded the tables, some hunched over cups of coffee while others slumped in booths, their heads buried in their arms. The air was thick with the scent of espresso, fresh pastries, and the unmistakable groans of hungover customers who were regretting their life choices.
“Finally!” Shinso called out from where he was wiping down a table. His tired purple eyes flicked toward her. “Took you long enough.”
Rosie sighed, tying her apron around her waist. “It’s seven in the morning, Shinso.”
“And?” He gestured vaguely to the sea of miserable students. “These poor souls have been suffering since we opened. Kanako and Yui are busting their asses in the kitchen, I’m stuck on cleaning duty, and you—” He pointed at her. “—are gonna be handling all of them.”
Rosie winced as she glanced toward the counter, where an intimidating line of customers stretched almost to the door. “Great.”
She quickly slid behind the counter, plastering on her best customer-service smile as she took orders, one after another, expertly crafting drinks while dodging complaints about caffeine addictions and existential crises.
Kanako and Yui worked tirelessly in the kitchen, the sound of clinking trays and the hum of the oven filling the air. Every so often, Kanako would peek out to check the line, pushing up her sleeves with a determined expression before disappearing back into the chaos of the kitchen.
Despite the rush, Rosie fell into an easy rhythm, whipping up caramel lattes, matcha teas, and enough espressos to keep a small army awake for a week. Shinso occasionally swung by, swiping an extra croissant for himself as he shot her a knowing smirk.
“Think any of these guys remember what they did last night?” Shinso mused, nodding toward a guy slumped in the corner, staring blankly at his black coffee like it held the secrets of the universe.
Rosie snorted, adjusting her apron. “Probably not.”
Things between her and Shinso had improved since his confession—and especially since Aizawa ambushed her during class, forcing them to talk. They weren’t exactly the way they used to be, but at least they could joke and work together without the weight of unspoken tension lingering between them. She was relieved. Shinso was someone she genuinely wanted to keep in her life, and she knew losing him as a friend would’ve hurt in ways she didn’t even want to think about.
Before she could say anything else, a sharp pang in her lower stomach had her wincing. Ugh, of course. It wasn’t unusual for her to get so caught up in work that she forgot she needed to take care of basic human needs.
“I need to use the bathroom. You can handle the counter, right?” she said, already pulling off her gloves.
Shinso let out an exaggerated groan. “You do realize that means I actually have to talk to people, right?”
Rosie rolled her eyes. “It’ll be five minutes. You’ll live.”
“Debatable,” he muttered, stepping up to take her place.
She shot him a quick grin before making her way toward the back. The moment she was inside the bathroom, she braced herself against the sink, inhaling deeply. The cool air was a relief after the overwhelming heat of the kitchen, and she took a second to splash cold water onto her face.
After composing herself, she stepped out, already tying her apron back into place—only to stop dead in her tracks.
The air shifted.
Standing at the counter, about to grab her coffee, was her.
The woman from last night.
The one who had shamelessly flirted with Katsuki right in front of Rosie. The same woman Rosie had put in her place last night.
Even with exhaustion evident on her face, the woman still carried herself with a quiet confidence, her short dark hair slightly tousled, her dark eyes sharp despite the irritation burning behind them.
For a second, Rosie thought she’d just take her coffee and leave. That she’d roll her eyes and walk away.
She was wrong.
The woman turned, her gaze locking onto Rosie’s the moment she stepped out from behind the counter. A slow smirk curled at the edges of her lips, though it lacked any real amusement, she slowly walked towards her.
“Well, well,” she drawled, her voice smooth but laced with venom. “Didn’t think I’d run into you here.”
Rosie crossed her arms, keeping her expression neutral. “Yet, here you are.”
The woman hummed, fingers tightening around the coffee cup. “Bet you think you’re real cute, huh? Acting like you’re the only one who can have him.”
Rosie’s jaw clenched, but she refused to take the bait. “If you’re done with whatever this is, you can go enjoy your coffee somewhere else.”
The woman rolled her eyes, her lips twisting into a condescending smirk. “You are just a silly little girl. He’ll grow bored of you and come running back to me.”
Rosie blinked. “What…?”
“You didn’t know?” The woman leaned in slightly, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. “Katsuki and I used to sleep around together.”
Oh, that was interesting.
Rosie felt something sharp twist in her gut, but she smoothed her expression quickly. She already knew Katsuki had a past—he wasn’t shy about it, and frankly, it wasn’t like she had expected him to be celibate before her. It didn’t matter. What mattered was the present.
A slow smirk tugged at Rosie’s lips as she tilted her head. “You may have slept together,” she said smoothly, “but I’ve been able to keep his attention without ever having sex with him.”
The woman’s smirk twitched. Faltered.
And then, just as quickly, it disappeared entirely. Before Rosie could react, the woman’s hand jerked forward.
The next thing she knew, scalding hot coffee poured down her head, drenching her hair and cascading down her body in burning rivulets.
A strangled, pained cry ripped from her throat as the heat seared into her skin through the fabric of her uniform. Her body jolted backward, hands flying up instinctively, but the damage was already done.
The entire café went silent.
The only sound was the sharp scrape of Shinso’s chair against the floor.
When Rosie managed to blink through the pain, she saw him standing, his expression dangerous. His normally tired purple eyes darkened into something sharp, his fists clenching at his sides.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” His voice was low, dripping with barely contained fury—an edge she had never heard of before.
The woman simply smirked, her lips curling in twisted satisfaction as she watched Rosie tremble from the lingering burn.
“You should’ve stayed in your lane,” she murmured before spinning on her heel and walking toward the exit as if nothing had happened.
Rosie’s hands shook. Her skin felt raw, the sting still lingering. A second later, she exhaled sharply. She refused to give that woman the satisfaction of seeing how much it hurt.
Instead, she focused inward, activating her quirk.
The pain ebbed instantly, her body knitting itself back together, but it left her drenched in coffee-stained clothes and completely disheveled.
She clenched her jaw. “I need to clean up,” she muttered, her voice tight. “I’m taking my break.”
Shinso was still standing, his eyes lingering on the door as if debating whether to run after the woman. He let out a slow breath, then turned back to Rosie, his gaze scanning over her.
“Rosie—”
“I said I’m fine,” she cut in, already untying her apron as she stormed toward the back.
Her hands were still shaking.
This wasn’t over.
Not by a long shot.
The evening air was cool when Rosie stepped outside after her shift, tugging her jacket tighter around herself. Her body was exhausted—not from work, but from everything that had happened. She just wanted to go home, shower, and pretend today never existed.
But then she saw him.
Katsuki leaned against his car, arms crossed, waiting for her. His expression was neutral at first, but the moment his crimson eyes landed on her—really landed on her—his brows furrowed.
His frown deepened as he pushed off the car and stalked toward her. “What the fuck happened?”
Rosie glanced down at herself. Right. Still coffee-stained. She must’ve looked rough, her uniform ruined, her hair still slightly damp from where she had tried to clean it in the sink.
She swallowed the lump in her throat.
“Nothing,” she muttered, stepping around him toward the car.
He didn’t buy it.
“Oi.” Katsuki grabbed her wrist gently—firm enough to stop her, but not forcefully. “Rosie.”
She stilled.
For a second, she considered brushing him off. Telling him it didn’t matter. But then she sighed and pulled away, crossing her arms tightly.
“Same girl from last night came into my work today and dumped her coffee on me,” she finally admitted, voice clipped. “Apparently, you used to fuck her, and she really didn’t like that I told her that we haven’t even slept together and yet I still have your attention.”
Katsuki winced.
That was a bad move.
Rosie narrowed her eyes. “Oh? So you do remember her?”
Katsuki dragged a hand down his face. “Shit, babydoll—”
“Don’t.” She turned and walked around to the passenger seat, yanking the door open.
Katsuki cursed under his breath, following after her. “I didn’t do anything, alright? You know I wouldn’t.”
She didn’t respond.
“Rosie,” he tried again, stepping closer.
She still ignored him, sliding into the car without another word. He hesitated before closing it and then sliding into the driver side, she purposely turned up the radio to signal that she didn’t want to talk to him. Not when she was still upset.
The hot water of the shower had helped Rosie shed the tension of the day, but it hadn’t fully washed away the lingering frustration. Even now, as she sat curled up on Katsuki’s couch, clad in one of her silk pajama sets, wine glass in hand, she could still feel the heat of earlier anger simmering under her skin.
She’d chosen to distract herself with a book, letting the words pull her away from reality, but the heavy weight of Katsuki’s gaze was relentless. He sat across from her, arms crossed, eyes fixed on her, waiting.
Waiting for her to talk.
Rosie sighed through her nose, keeping her focus on the page. “Stop staring at me.”
“I’m waiting for you to talk to me.”
She flipped a page with deliberate slowness. “Enjoy waiting, then.”
She knew he wasn’t going to drop it, not with the way he was built—stubborn to the core, too damn proud to let things fester. But she was just as stubborn. Maybe even more so.
Rosie is many things. Kind. Soft-hearted. Patient. Understanding. A true Mama’s girl, as her mother, Miyu, always said. But she was also her father’s daughter. And Aizawa’s blood ran deep in her veins, filling her with a sharp-edged logic, a natural reserve, and, when provoked, a vindictive streak that had already started crafting the perfect way to handle that woman.
The thought alone tasted so sweet.
Still, Katsuki was her loving, doting, and adoring boyfriend. And he deserved better than silent treatment.
With a sigh, she closed her book and tossed it onto the table. Katsuki straightened slightly, waiting.
“I’m not upset with you,” she started, her voice measured. “Or at least, not for the reason you think.”
His brows furrowed slightly, but he didn’t interrupt. He listened.
Rosie set her wine glass down, choosing her words carefully. “I know you slept with other people before me. I don’t care about that. It’s in the past, and we weren’t together, didn’t even know each other.” She met his gaze head-on. “But I do care that you didn’t tell me about her specifically. After she tried to get you to go home with her last night, you should have mentioned it. Instead, I had to find out from her—at my work, no less—only for her to turn around and embarrass me by dumping hot coffee all over me.”
She exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. “Do you know how that felt? To be caught off guard like that? To not even know what she was talking about?”
Katsuki had gone completely silent.
That alone told her he was actually thinking about what she said.
His crimson eyes flickered with something—guilt, maybe? Annoyance at himself? His jaw clenched, his fingers tapping against his knee, but he still listened. He didn’t cut her off, didn’t try to defend himself immediately.
That was growth.
After a long moment, he let out a slow breath and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “C’mere,” he muttered, his voice lower now, softer.
Rosie hesitated for only a second before she moved, her body responding to him like it always did. She climbed into his lap without resistance, settling comfortably as his strong arms wrapped around her.
He held her close, one hand pressing against the small of her back, the other curling around her thigh. His warmth surrounded her, grounding her.“I didn’t tell you ‘cause I forgot about her,” he admitted, his lips brushing against her temple. “Didn’t think about her once since I met you.”
Rosie stilled slightly, processing that. “You forgot?”
“Yeah.” Katsuki huffed, like the whole thing annoyed him. “She didn’t mean shit to me. She was just someone I fucked a few times. Didn’t even remember her name when she showed up last night.”
Rosie traced patterns on his chest absentmindedly. “When was the last time you slept with her?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Back in September.”
Rosie tilted her head slightly, thinking. That was… a while before they even met, before she and Katsuki had gotten together. But still, she couldn’t ignore the sting of knowing that woman had been involved with him in any way.
But more than that, she couldn’t ignore the fact that Katsuki had genuinely forgotten about her. That, to him, she had been nothing.
It was reassuring.
And… if she was being completely honest, it felt good knowing she was the one who had his full attention now.
She sighed, pressing her forehead against his shoulder. “You’re lucky you’re hot,” she muttered.
Katsuki snorted, his arms tightening around her. “Damn right I am.”
Rosie rolled her eyes but didn’t move. They sat like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, slowly easing out of the tension from earlier.
They were growing—not just as a couple, but as people. And Rosie was starting to think that, with Katsuki, she could keep growing.
Rosie shifted slightly in Katsuki’s lap, tilting her head up to look at him with big, expectant eyes. “Can you get me more ice cream?” she asked, her voice sweet, almost coaxing.
Katsuki let out a low chuckle, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. “Yeah, princess, I got you.” His hands squeezed at her waist briefly before he shifted to stand, setting her gently on the couch. “Text me if you want anything else while I’m at the store.”
Rosie smiled up at him, warmth filling her chest at how easily he agreed. He was always so gruff, so explosive with others, but with her? He was this. Soft in a way he didn’t let anyone else see.
“Okay,” she murmured, reaching up to tug him down by the collar of his hoodie. Their lips met in a slow, lazy kiss—one that made her toes curl. Katsuki hummed against her lips, deepening it just for a moment before finally pulling away.
“I’ll be back soon,” he muttered, brushing his knuckles against her cheek before heading toward the door.
As soon as he was gone, Rosie stretched, letting out a soft sigh. The idea of waiting around for him to come back wasn’t exactly appealing, and she knew exactly what she wanted to do in the meantime.
With that, she pushed herself off the couch and made her way to the bathroom.
She twisted the faucet, letting the water pour into the large bathtub as she reached for the bottle of wine she’d been drinking earlier. Pouring herself another generous glass, she set it on the edge of the tub before grabbing her book from the nightstand.
By the time the bath was filled, steam curling in the air, Rosie had stripped out of her pajamas and slipped into the warm water.
The heat instantly melted away any lingering tension, wrapping around her muscles like a comforting embrace. She let out a quiet sigh, sinking deeper, the water lapping at her collarbones as she reached for her wine.
This was perfect.
Book in one hand, wine in the other, she let herself relax fully, flipping the pages as she lost herself in the story.
A little self-care never hurt anyone. And right now? She deserved this.
A soft knock echoed through the bathroom door, pulling Rosie’s attention away from the pages of her book.
“Come in,” she called, sinking a little deeper into the warm water.
The door creaked open, and she turned her head just in time to see Katsuki stepping inside, a bowl of strawberry ice cream in his hand. Her lips curled into a smile, warmth blooming in her chest at the sight of him.
He crouched down next to the tub, holding the bowl out to her. “Here,” he murmured.
Rosie took it with a grateful hum, setting her book aside for a moment as she scooped up a bite. Just as she brought the spoon to her lips, Katsuki leaned in, capturing her mouth in a slow, lingering kiss. The cold sweetness of the ice cream melted on her tongue, blending with the warmth of him, and she sighed happily into the kiss.
“Thank you,” she murmured against his lips.
Katsuki pulled back slightly, his crimson eyes scanning her face before dropping to where the water kissed her skin. His gaze was heavy, appreciative, but he didn’t push. Instead, he smirked, reaching out to brush a damp strand of hair from her face.
“I’ll be in the living room studying if you need anything,” he said, standing up and moving to sit on the edge of the tub for a moment.
Rosie tilted her head, watching him with a soft expression. “You’re actually studying?”
He snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Gotta keep up, y’know?”
She chuckled, taking another bite of her ice cream. “I’m proud of you.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes, but she didn’t miss the way his lips twitched—like he was fighting back a smile. “Just don’t take too long in here, princess,” he muttered before pushing off the tub and heading toward the door.
Rosie watched him go, a small, content smile on her lips as she turned back to her book. Why did he have to be the definition of sex on legs?
The blaring sound of an alarm broke through the peaceful quiet of the morning, pulling Rosie from the depths of sleep. She stirred, groaning softly as she turned over, eyes fluttering open just enough to see Katsuki shifting beside her.
He was bleary-eyed, his hair a mess of golden spikes as he fumbled to turn off the alarm on his phone. His movements were slow, deliberate—trying not to wake her as he quietly slid out of bed.
“Pomchi…?” Rosie mumbled sleepily, her voice thick with drowsiness.
Katsuki paused, turning back to look at her. His expression softened, and in the dim morning light, he leaned down, pressing a slow, lazy kiss to her lips.
“Go back to sleep, baby,” he murmured against her mouth.
Rosie hummed, eyes half-lidded as she reached up, fingers lightly grazing his wrist. “Where’re you going…?”
Katsuki sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Told the guys I’d hit the gym with ‘em. Since Aizawa doesn’t have class today, figured I’d go early.”
Rosie let out a quiet whine, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “Stay in bed with me…”
Katsuki chuckled, his thumb brushing over her cheek. “I’ll see you later, yeah? When I pick you up for our science classes.”
She scrunched her nose but didn’t argue, mumbling a reluctant, “Fine…” as she rolled onto her side.
Katsuki smirked. “I got about twenty minutes before I have to leave, though.”
Rosie blinked, groggy confusion settling in. “…And?”
Before she could register what was happening, Katsuki grabbed the edge of the blankets and yanked them off her in one swift motion, exposing her to the cool morning air.
“Hey—!” she squeaked, but her protest was cut off when he climbed back into bed, hovering over her with a teasing glint in his crimson eyes.
“You really think I’d leave without waking you up properly?” he murmured, his voice dipping lower.
Rosie barely had time to react before his mouth was on hers, deep and heated, his hands skimming down her sides as he pressed her into the mattress. She gasped against his lips, arms looping around his neck as she kissed him back, letting herself melt into him completely.
Katsuki’s lips were hot and demanding against Rosie’s, his hands gripping her hips as he pressed her down against the bed. Her body responded instinctively, arching into him, heat pooling deep in her stomach as he deepened the kiss.
Her breath hitched when his hands slid beneath her sleep shirt, fingertips grazing her bare skin. The contrast between the warmth of his palms and the cool morning air sent a shiver down her spine.
"Katsuki…" she breathed, her voice thick with sleep and something else—something needy.
He smirked against her lips. “Yeah, baby?” His voice was rough, teasing, but there was an unmistakable heat in his gaze as he drank her in.
Instead of answering, she rolled her hips against him, earning a low, pleased growl from his throat. His grip on her waist tightened, guiding her movements as he let her grind down onto him, their bodies moving in a slow, tantalizing rhythm.
“You really don’t want me to go, huh?” His voice was husky, breathless.
She shook her head, pouting up at him. “Stay.”
Katsuki chuckled, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth before suddenly flipping her over onto her hands and knees. She gasped, barely catching herself on her elbows as he settled behind her, his hands splaying across her back before slowly trailing up to her shoulders.
“Damn, baby…” His voice was thick with something dark, something reverent, as he leaned over her. His chest was warm against her back, lips grazing the shell of her ear. “You know how fuckin’ good you look like this for me?”
Rosie whimpered, her fingers curling into the sheets. Her heart pounded as he pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, his hands sliding down to cup her breasts, thumbs teasing over her sensitive skin through the thin silk of her pajama top.
“Katsuki…” she whined, shifting against him, desperate for more.
He groaned, his breath heavy as he rolled his hips against her, the friction making her dizzy. “Fuck, baby. You’re gonna make me late.”
She smirked, turning her head just enough to glance back at him. “Your fault for waking me up like this.”
Katsuki chuckled against her shoulder, the low vibration of his voice sending a shiver down her spine. “Yeah? Well, since I’ve only got fifteen minutes left…” His voice was rough, teasing, laced with something dark and full of want.
He guided her back down onto all fours, his strong hands gripping her hips as he rolled against her again. The hard press of his body against her sent sparks of heat curling in her stomach, making her whimper softly. His slow, deliberate movements—just enough friction to tease, but not enough to satisfy—had her toes curling against the sheets.
“Katsuki…” she murmured, her voice laced with frustration and need.
“Yeah, baby? What do you need?” he rasped, his hands smoothing over her waist before coming up to cup her breasts, fingers rolling over her sensitive skin in a way that had her pressing back against him instinctively. He smirked at how easily she reacted to his touch.
She gasped as he ground against her again, his warmth seeping into her, her soaked panties clinging to her while his sweats did little to hide the growing heat between them. The slow rhythm was torturous—his body moving against hers in a way that made her ache for more, made her crave him deeper, closer.
“You’re making the sweetest sounds,” he murmured against her neck, kissing a line down her spine as he rocked into her again, setting a steady pace. The pressure, the warmth of him—it was overwhelming in the best way.
Her fingers clenched against the sheets as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter inside her. Katsuki could feel the way she trembled beneath him, the little noises escaping her lips as she chased that intoxicating friction.
“Come on, doll,” he encouraged, his voice thick and husky, rolling his hips against hers just right. The sound of their breathing, the way their bodies moved in sync, it was all too much.
With a breathy moan, her body tensed, a wave of warmth crashing through her as she found her release. Katsuki groaned low in his throat, his grip tightening as he followed after her, his breath stuttering against her skin as he buried his face in her shoulder.
For a moment, they stayed like that, their bodies still tangled, the only sound in the room their ragged breaths. Then, Katsuki exhaled heavily before shifting, flipping her over onto her back with ease.
Rosie blinked up at him sleepily, her body still humming from the pleasure, her lids growing heavy. Katsuki smirked, brushing damp strands of hair from her face as he leaned down, kissing her slow and lazy, savoring the moment.
“Tired already, princess?” he murmured against her lips.
She hummed in response, already half-asleep, her fingers weakly reaching for him. Katsuki chuckled, shaking his head.
“You’re impossible,” he muttered, but there was nothing but fondness in his voice. He pulled the blankets back over her and pressed one last lingering kiss to her forehead.
“Go back to sleep,” he whispered. “I’ll see you later.”
Rosie barely registered his words, already slipping into a peaceful slumber, warmth and contentment settling deep in her bones. He headed to the bathroom but not before turning to see her circling up on his side of the bed, burying her face into his pillow.
Adorable.
Rosie huffed in frustration as she carefully tugged on her tights, trying not to rip them with her nails. The fabric stretched over her legs, smooth and snug, and she wiggled a little to get them up all the way before grabbing her short skirt and adjusting it over her hips.
She reached for her cropped sweater next, the soft material slipping over her arms as she pulled it down, smoothing it over her torso. Satisfied, she turned to grab her bag, already running through her mental checklist of what she needed for class—
Click.
The sound of the door unlocking made her freeze, her fingers still curled around the strap of her bag.
Katsuki wasn’t supposed to be back yet. He’d texted her not long ago, saying he and Kirishima were grabbing food after their workout. So then, who—
The door swung open, and Rosie turned just in time to come face to face with a woman. A woman who looked a lot like Katsuki.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Rosie blinked.
The woman blinked back.
They just stood there, staring at each other, both seeming equally caught off guard.
The resemblance was undeniable—the sharp crimson eyes, the spiky ash-blonde hair, the expression that could probably kill a man if aimed correctly. Rosie was certain that if she squinted, she’d be looking at an older, female version of Katsuki himself.
Mitsuki Bakugo slowly arched a brow, looking her up and down, taking in the short skirt, the snug tights, the cropped sweater that showed just a sliver of Rosie’s stomach. Her gaze flicked back up to Rosie’s face, and the silence stretched just a second too long.
Rosie swallowed, suddenly acutely aware that she was in her boyfriend’s apartment, and that she had not mentally prepared herself to meet Katsuki’s mother like this.
Shit.
“…Well,” Mitsuki finally drawled, crossing her arms. “You’re definitely not my idiot son.”
Rosie straightened immediately, heat creeping up her neck. Okay, time to salvage this.
“Uh. No, ma’am,” she said quickly, her voice coming out a little higher than she intended. “I’m Rosie.”
Mitsuki tilted her head slightly, narrowing her eyes. “Rosie, huh?”
Rosie nodded. “Yeah. Um. Your Rosie. I mean—not yours, Katsuki’s—”
Oh my god, shut up, Rosie.
Mitsuki exhaled sharply through her nose, and for one terrifying second, Rosie thought she was going to explode at her.
But then—Mitsuki smirked.
“Oh,” she said, her eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “You’re the one.”
Rosie wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good thing or not.
Notes:
My bad for posting this so late, I ended up falling asleep after class and only just woke up recently, so I'm going to go eat and finish tomorrow's chapter haha<3
Chapter 54: Why is such a pretty girl like you with my son?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki barely remembered the sprint back to his apartment. All he knew was that one second, he was sitting down to lunch with Kirishima, his stomach growling, the next—he was bolting down the street like his life depended on it.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He should’ve checked his damn phone earlier. He had been about to grab a bite when he saw the text from his mom.
Old Hag: Droppin' by to leave the keys to the house.
That was it. No warning, no real explanation. And now, he was standing in front of his door, his heart pounding in his chest. He skidded to a stop, threw the door open—and froze.
There they were.
Rosie stood in the entryway, her little cropped sweater and tights making her look adorable. Katsuki wanted nothing more than to walk over, pull her into his arms, kiss her senseless, bury his fingers in that soft hair of hers—make her whine in his lap.
But as his eyes scanned her, that feeling vanished.
Rosie was stiff, her shoulders hunched in that way that made her look like a cornered animal, ready to bolt at the slightest movement. The same look she had on the first day when their classmates had crowded around her and overwhelmed her with their questions. That same, frightened look. The one that made his blood run cold every time he saw it.
And across from her, standing tall with arms crossed and head tilted like she was studying a specimen, was Mitsuki. His mother, casually scrutinizing Rosie with an intensity that made Katsuki want to shove her out the door.
Katsuki’s gut twisted with a mix of frustration and concern. This wasn’t how he’d wanted things to go, not after all the work he’d put into making sure he and Rosie were comfortable with each other.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, slamming the door behind him. He had no idea what had been said or what the hell was going on, but he could already tell this wasn’t going to end well if he didn’t step in.
At the sound of his voice, Mitsuki finally turned her head, and when their eyes met, she gave him that same sharp, knowing smirk. "There’s that idiot son of mine,” she drawled, her crimson eyes gleaming with something dark and amused.
Katsuki could feel the tension building in his chest, his fists clenching involuntarily. Fuck, this wasn’t the time for his mom to be playing around.
“What the hell are you doin’ here?” Katsuki snapped, doing his best to mask his concern for Rosie with irritation.
Mitsuki scoffed, unfazed. “I told you, dumbass. Droppin’ off the damn house keys.”
Right. That. But the timing couldn’t have been worse. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the tension that was rapidly settling in his body. His eyes flicked over to Rosie, who was standing there stiff as a board. Her hands were gripping the hem of her sweater, her lips parted slightly, as though she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
This wasn’t good. Rosie wasn’t good at handling pressure like this, and he could tell she was getting overwhelmed. He needed to put a stop to this before things got any worse. He didn’t care about his mom’s teasing or her usual antics. He wasn’t about to let her push Rosie into a panic attack.
Katsuki sighed, his voice softer this time, trying to calm himself down before he snapped. He took a step forward, jerking his chin toward Rosie. “Oi, old hag. This is Rosie. My girlfriend.”
Rosie blinked up at him, startled, her fingers still clutching the edge of her sweater. Her eyes were wide, a mixture of surprise and wariness.
Mitsuki raised an eyebrow, the smile on her face faltering for just a second. “No shit, I figured that out,” she said dryly, her gaze flicking over Rosie. “She looks nothin' like the usual woman you’re with.”
Katsuki scowled at the jab, but didn’t let it throw him off. “And this,” he said, glaring at his mother, “is my mom, Mitsuki.”
Rosie straightened immediately, giving a polite nod. “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” she said softly, her voice almost trembling, though she tried to keep it composed.
Katsuki’s stomach churned as he watched her. She was trying so hard to be polite, to make a good impression, but he could see how tense she was. Her nervousness radiated from her like a heatwave. She wasn’t used to situations like this—hell, neither was he—but this? This was a lot for her to handle.
Mitsuki’s gaze swept over Rosie again, her expression unreadable, before she suddenly whacked Katsuki across the back of his head.
“OW—” Katsuki hissed, jerking back, his hand flying up to rub at the sting. “The hell, you old hag?!”
“Don’t you ‘old hag’ me, you little shit!” Mitsuki snapped, her voice sharp and scolding. “You got yourself a girlfriend and didn’t tell me?!”
Katsuki’s eye twitched, annoyance bubbling to the surface. “Tch. Yeah, ‘cause we were keepin’ it a secret, dumbass.”
Mitsuki squinted at him, her lips twisting into a more thoughtful frown. “The hell kinda reason is that?”
Katsuki let out a long breath, his frustration settling into something more worried. He glanced at Rosie, whose hands were still twisted in her sweater, her lips pressed tightly together, as though she were holding herself back from saying something.
She is really uncomfortable right now, and it made his chest tighten in a way he wasn’t used to. His protective instincts kicked in, and he could feel that fierce need to make everything okay for her. She wasn’t handling his mom’s antics, and the last thing he wanted was for her to feel like she was a burden, like she didn’t belong.
He moved toward her, his voice softening as he reached out to wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her close against him. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, hoping to ground her with his touch. He could feel her flinch slightly, her shoulders tense under his arm, but she didn’t pull away.
“It’s my first relationship. Her first relationship, too,” Katsuki said quietly, his voice low but firm. “Didn’t wanna screw it up, so we both agreed to keep it a secret while we figure things out. Don’t want anyone poking their nose in our business.”
There was a long silence. Mitsuki didn’t say anything at first, and Katsuki felt a flicker of hope that maybe she’d understand. Maybe she’d back off. But when she finally spoke, her lips curled into that slow, knowing smirk. “Hah.”
Before Katsuki could process what was happening, his mom suddenly shoved him out of the way with surprising strength, practically pouncing on Rosie. “Oh my god, you’re so cute—”
“What—” Rosie squeaked, startled, as Mitsuki wrapped her in an unexpected bear hug, pulling her off balance and burying her face in her hair.
Katsuki watched, his heart hammering in his chest as Rosie froze, eyes wide with shock. His mother was squeezing Rosie like she was a damn plushie, patting her head and making little cooing noises, completely disregarding the fact that Rosie looked like she was on the verge of a meltdown.
Katsuki’s jaw clenched. His mind raced as he took a step forward, his protective instincts screaming at him to stop this. His mom could be overwhelming, but Rosie was already out of her depth. He didn’t want her to feel like she couldn’t breathe, like she was trapped.
“Oi, old hag,” Katsuki growled, stepping between them and pulling Rosie back into his arms, his voice sharp. “She’s not your damn doll.”
Mitsuki blinked, clearly surprised by his sudden intervention, but then her expression softened into an almost fond smile as she backed off. “Oh, come on. She’s just so cute. I can’t help myself.”
“Hands the hell off, old hag!” he snapped, his voice sharp enough to make Mitsuki pause. He was not about to let his mom scare the hell out of Rosie. Not today, not ever.
Mitsuki huffed, clearly unbothered by his outburst. She planted one hand on her hip, cocking her head. “Oh, quit bein’ a selfish little brat. I just wanna get a good look at her.”
“No,” Katsuki growled, his eyes narrowing into slits as he held Rosie tighter against him.
“Yes.”
“No.”
Mitsuki took a step forward. Katsuki mirrored her movement, backing up just enough to keep Rosie safely tucked against his chest.
Rosie let out a tiny squeak as her head snapped between the two of them, eyes wide with anxious confusion. She was like a rabbit caught between two wolves, and it was making Katsuki’s stomach twist in knots.
“Katsuki, darling,” she whispered, her voice almost too soft, her fingers clinging to his forearms as if he were her only anchor in the storm.
He looked down at her, feeling that familiar tug in his chest. “I gotcha, doll,” he muttered, the words barely escaping his lips. He turned his glare back on his mother, holding Rosie tighter. “She’s mine. I ain’t lettin’ you scare her off.”
Mitsuki rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed by his dramatics. “Oh, for fuc—quit whining, dumbass!” she retorted, dismissing him with a flick of her wrist.
And then, without warning, WHACK!
Pain exploded in the back of his head. “OW—” Katsuki yelped, stumbling slightly, still clutching Rosie against him. He shot a glare over his shoulder. “What the fuck?!”
Mitsuki clicked her tongue, shaking out her hand like she was the one who’d just been assaulted. “Oh, quit whining,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. She jerked her thumb toward Rosie. “Let me look at her.”
“No.” Katsuki’s voice was firm as ever.
Mitsuki squinted, clearly done with his defiance. “Katsuki.”
“No.”
“Katsuki.”
“No.”
Before he could make another move, Mitsuki took a step forward, and Katsuki took an equally sharp step back, dragging Rosie with him. She let out a tiny, nervous laugh, her face turning bright red as she whispered, “Pomchi—”
At that exact moment, the door to the bedroom creaked open. Katsuki’s heart skipped a beat, his attention distracted for just a split second, and that’s when it happened. Maya, the little cotton swab darted out of the bedroom with a burst of energy, her little paws clattering against the floor as she raced straight toward Mitsuki. The little dog was yapping excitedly, tail wagging furiously as she scrambled around Mitsuki’s feet, trying to get her attention.
The little furball barked, her little body twisting in circles like she was in the middle of a Zoomies attack.
Mitsuki looked down, her face lighting up with delight. “Well, well, aren’t you just a bundle of energy?” she cooed, bending down to scoop the poodle up into her arms. “Oh, you’re even fluffier than I remember! So this is your owner…”
Katsuki blinked, watching as his mom practically melted at the sight of the tiny poodle snuggled in her arms, her previous aggression momentarily forgotten.
Rosie, meanwhile, was still clinging to him, her eyes wide as she glanced between him and his mom, unsure whether to laugh or cry. Her hands were gripping the hem of her skirt again, her fingers fidgeting nervously.
Katsuki leaned down, speaking quietly into her ear. “It’s okay, doll,” he muttered. “She’s not gonna bite you. She’s just a little... much sometimes.”
Rosie let out a soft laugh, the nervous tension in her body finally starting to ease as she watched his mom fuss over Maya. “Pomchi,” she said softly, her voice still shaky but lighter now. “I’m okay… really. Pomchi…”
Katsuki turned his gaze back to his mom, who was currently letting Maya lick her face, completely oblivious to anything else happening around her. He narrowed his eyes, his lips pulling into a small, amused smile.
“Then why the hell are you shaking?” he muttered, his tone teasing but concerned.
Rosie blushed, looking up at him with a shy smile. “This is just a lot to take in, I was unprepared and I was definitely not expecting to meet your mother today” she murmured.
Katsuki wasn’t about to let his mom completely off the hook, though. He scowled at her, and Mitsuki, still distracted by Maya, didn’t even notice the look of death Katsuki was sending her way.
Rosie hesitated for a moment before turning toward Mitsuki, her voice soft but steady. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said politely, her voice still quiet but clear. “I am Takahara Rosie, and I am your son’s girlfriend. It was never our intention to hurt or deceive anyone, we just wanted to take the time to have privacy and explore our relationship as it’s a new concept to both of us.”
Mitsuki blinked, clearly taken aback by the formal and well-spoken introduction. She stared at Rosie for a moment, her expression softening. “Oh my,” she said, her eyes wide. “What a well-mannered, polite, and a sweet thing you are.”
Katsuki could feel his chest swelling with pride, though he was doing his best not to let it show.
“Thank you,” Rosie said, her voice tinged with relief as she finally smiled.
“So, may I ask,” Mitsuki started, still cradling Maya in her arms, “why is such a pretty girl like you with my son?”
Katsuki scowled, his hands sliding into his pockets. “What the hell, old hag?” he snapped.
But Rosie, always the soft-spoken one, gave a gentle chuckle. “Well, actually, I’m surprised that Katsuki is with me…” she said, her voice almost too quiet as she withdrew her hands from Mitsuki’s and gripped the hem of her skirt.
Katsuki raised an eyebrow at her. “What?” he asked, completely confused.
Rosie’s lips quirked into a shy smile. “When we first met, I didn’t think someone like him would ever have bothered with me in the first place. Especially since he seemed so disinterested in me in the first place, but he helped me that first day, twice actually.”
Katsuki blinked, suddenly feeling a surge of warmth flood his chest. This is his girl—his sweet, shy, brave Rosie—and no matter how chaotic this was, he’d take it all for her.
“Yeah, well,” he said, ruffling her hair, “you’re stuck with me now, doll.”
“Allow me to take you out for lunch, yes?” Mitsuki smiled. “I’d love to get to know you.”
“We don’t have to do this doll,” Katsuki soothed. “We can plan this for another day.”
Rosie shook her head, “I’d love that.”
The booth was cozy, a little too small for the three of them, but it didn’t matter. Katsuki sat next to Rosie, one of his arms casually draped over the back of the booth, while Rosie sat relaxed, but her fingers nervously fiddling with the hem of her sleeves. Across from them, Mitsuki sat comfortably, grinning like a cat who’d just found the most delicious mouse to play with.
Mitsuki’s eyes were gleaming with curiosity as she took a sip of her drink, her gaze never leaving the two of them. “So,” she started, her voice light and teasing, “how did you two meet?”
Katsuki’s eyes flicked over to Rosie, and he smirked a little, but didn’t say a word. He could tell she was going to be the one to answer this. Rosie, always so shy, was already fidgeting under the spotlight. Her cheeks flushed a soft pink, and she quickly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, as if she could hide from the attention.
Her voice came out quiet, almost a whisper, “We met on the first day of classes, in my father’s class.”
Katsuki raised an eyebrow, a little amused at her nervousness. She was adorable when she was shy like this, her gaze flickering from him to Mitsuki, looking for some sort of reassurance.
Mitsuki leaned in, her smile widening. “Oho, your father’s class, huh? Sounds like a good place to start a romance,” she teased, her eyes dancing with mischief.
Rosie’s flush deepened, and she buried her face in her hands for a brief moment, mumbling something incoherent. Katsuki chuckled softly at how endearingly embarrassed she was, but didn’t let her suffer for too long.
“Yeah,” he jumped in, leaning back against the booth, “it was her first day, and she got overwhelmed so I helped her out.”
Mitsuki raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Helped her out? Helped her with what exactly?” Her voice had a playful edge now, clearly relishing every moment of teasing.
Katsuki smirked, crossing his arms. “I did what I did best.” He looked over at Rosie, who was still fiddling with her sleeves, her gaze avoiding his, clearly embarrassed by his bluntness. “Everything else was up to her.”
Rosie finally looked up at him, her face still a rosy shade of pink, but there was a softness in her eyes when she caught his gaze, the same adoration and kindness he adored about her.
Mitsuki’s smile softened slightly, but her playful grin was still there. “I see.” She then turned to him, her smile wider, “so what made you stop your playboy ways and get a girlfriend?”
Katsuki exhaled sharply through his nose, tilting his head back against the booth as he felt both his mother’s and Rosie’s eyes on him. Mitsuki’s gaze was smug, filled with curiosity, but Rosie’s? Rosie was looking at him like she genuinely wanted to know—like his answer mattered to her.
And that was what made his chest tighten.
He hadn’t even told her, had he? Not properly. He’d claimed her, sure—told her she was his and made damn sure no one else even thought about getting close to her. But he never put the weight of his feelings into words. Not fully.
He dragged a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on him. It was always like this with her—this overwhelming, all-consuming thing that he hadn’t been ready for but had been powerless against.
The first time he saw her, he thought she was gorgeous. Not in the way most people meant it, either. She was so pink, so fucking bright, like she didn’t belong in the same dull, gray world as the rest of them. It pissed him off. She wasn’t even trying, yet she had his attention like it was the most natural thing in the world.
She existed—and that was enough to change everything.
Katsuki let out a slow breath, his fingers twitching against the table. He wanted to touch her. Right now. Right here. He always wanted to touch her. It drove him fucking insane, how badly he needed to feel her warmth, to have her close.
He turned his head, his gaze locking onto her soft blue eyes. “She’s annoyingly perfect,” he said, his voice quieter, but no less intense.
Rosie blinked up at him, startled by the weight in his words.
Katsuki rubbed the back of his neck, feeling antsy, like the words weren’t enough. They never were. “Rosie is the sole reason,” he continued, his voice rougher now. “If I hadn’t met her, I’d still be the same.” He swallowed hard, then gritted out, “Rosie is my girlfriend and the only one I will ever have.”
Mitsuki let out a low whistle. “Damn, brat,” she muttered, sounding almost impressed.
But Katsuki barely heard her because Rosie was reaching for him, her small, delicate fingers cradling his face like he was something precious. Like he was someone worth holding onto.
“Katsuki…” she murmured softly, her thumb brushing over his cheek. “You can’t mean that…”
His eyes snapped to hers, and for a second, all the noise around them disappeared. He hated that she doubted it. Hated that she didn’t seem to realize just how deep he was in this—how deep he was in her. He scoffed, reaching up to grab her wrist, pressing her palm harder against his face. “Of course I mean it.”He should’ve left it at that. Should’ve let it go. But she was too close, too soft, too damn his, and before he knew it, he was surging forward.
His lips crashed against hers, right there in the middle of the restaurant, with his mother sitting right across from them. He didn’t give a shit. Didn’t care about the people around them, didn’t care that this wasn’t the time or place—because nothing else fucking mattered.
Rosie made a surprised noise against his mouth, but she melted so easily, her fingers curling into his jaw, holding onto him like she never wanted to let go. Good, he thought, tightening his grip on her.
The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was hungry, desperate, like he was trying to pour everything he couldn’t say into it. She tasted sweet, like the strawberry milkshake she’d been sipping on earlier, and he swore he could get drunk on her if he wasn’t careful.
“Oi, get a damn room, you brat!”
Mitsuki’s voice snapped through the haze, and Rosie pulled away with a gasp, her face burning red as she covered her mouth.
Katsuki, on the other hand, just clicked his tongue, not even bothering to look embarrassed. He turned to his mother with a scowl. “Tch. If you didn’t wanna see it, you shouldn’t have asked dumbass questions.”
Mitsuki cackled. “I asked for a story, not a damn show!”
Rosie let out a tiny, mortified whimper, burying her face in her hands, but Katsuki just smirked, throwing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. His lips brushed against her ear, his voice low, meant only for her. “Don’t care where we are,” he murmured. “I’m always gonna want you, doll.”
Rosie trembled slightly in his hold, but he felt the way her fingers curled into his sweater, clinging to him.
Mitsuki rolled her eyes. “God help me, my idiot son is head over heels.”
Katsuki didn’t even bother denying it. Because yeah—he was. And he was done pretending otherwise.
Katsuki leaned back in his seat, arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold before him. His mother, the same loud, sharp-tongued woman who could strike fear into anyone with a single glare, was now smiling—genuinely smiling—as she chatted with Rosie.
And the most surprising part? Rosie wasn’t as stiff as she had been earlier. She was still shy, still fidgeting with the sleeves of her sweater, but there was a soft curve to her lips now. She was comfortable.
He’d noticed the shift about ten minutes ago, right after Mitsuki had started telling stories about his childhood—specifically the embarrassing ones. “So there he was, four years old, stomping around the house buck naked, screaming about how he was gonna be the best damn hero—”
“MOM.”
Rosie’s hands flew up to cover her mouth, her body shaking as she tried (and failed) to hold in her laughter. Katsuki scowled, his eye twitching.
Mitsuki just smirked. “What? You were a menace, brat.”
Rosie peeked up at him, her blue eyes gleaming with amusement. “Aww, that’s so cute,” she giggled.
Katsuki clicked his tongue, his scowl deepening, but the sound of Rosie laughing—actually laughing—kept him from snapping.
He watched as his mother leaned closer, her gaze warm as she teased, “Bet he still throws tantrums, huh?”
Rosie hesitated, then—slowly—she nodded, her lips twitching.
Katsuki’s jaw dropped. “OI—”
“Oh, I like you,” Mitsuki declared, reaching over to pat Rosie’s head like she was some damn puppy.
And that was when it really hit him.
His mother had completely fallen for Rosie.
Not in the same way he had—obviously—but it was the same way she had taken in Kirishima as her own. That same genuine acceptance, that same silent stamp of approval. She was looking at Rosie like she was already family.
And Rosie?
She liked his mom. She was still nervous, still hesitant, but he could tell—she wasn’t scared anymore.
His chest tightened at the realization.
He didn’t know why he had been so tense about this meeting. Mitsuki was a lot, yeah, but she had a good eye for people. She would’ve seen right through Rosie if she had been anything less than real. But Rosie wasn’t less. She is everything. And now his mother knew that too.
He exhaled, feeling something in his chest loosen as he grabbed the bill from the table before his mom could snatch it. Mitsuki raised a brow. “Oh? Look at you, big spender.”
Katsuki scoffed, slapping a few bills down before standing. “Tch. Like I’d let my old hag pay.”
Mitsuki rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, she stood as well, turning to Rosie with a smirk. “C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get outta here before my son starts sulking.”
Rosie blinked in surprise but nodded, grabbing her bag as she followed them outside.
The evening air was crisp, and as soon as they stepped out onto the sidewalk, Mitsuki turned to Rosie with a look so soft that Katsuki almost didn’t believe it.
“You should come over for dinner,” Mitsuki said, placing her hands on Rosie’s shoulders. “Meet my idiot husband.”
Rosie’s eyes widened, her cheeks turning pink. “Oh—I—” She glanced at Katsuki, unsure.
Katsuki just shrugged. “You don’t gotta, but if ya wanna, I’ll be there.”
Mitsuki scoffed. “Of course, you’ll be there, dumbass. She’s your girlfriend.”
Rosie hesitated, then gave a small, shy nod. “I’d like that,” she admitted softly.
Mitsuki grinned. “Good.” Then, to Katsuki’s utter disbelief, she pulled Rosie into a hug. A full-blown hug.
Rosie made a small squeak of surprise before slowly hugging her back.
And just when Katsuki thought the moment couldn’t get any more surreal, Mitsuki pulled back and said, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll keep my lips sealed about you two.”
Katsuki squinted. “Wait, what?”
Mitsuki smirked at him. “What? You think I don’t get it? You two wanted privacy? Fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
Katsuki stared at her, stunned. “You never keep your mouth shut.”
“First time for everything,” she quipped.
Rosie giggled beside him, and when he glanced at her, she was smiling so softly, so warmly, that his chest tightened all over again.
Mitsuki turned to leave, throwing one last glance over her shoulder. “Be good to her, brat.”
Katsuki huffed. “Tch. Obviously.”
And then she was gone, leaving him standing there with Rosie, who was still watching after her with a dazed expression.
Katsuki ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. “Well. That went better than I thought.”
Rosie turned to him, smiling shyly. “I like your mom.”
He scoffed but couldn’t help the small smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, well… she likes you too.”
Rosie beamed, and Katsuki—grumbling under his breath—reached out, grabbing her hand and lacing their fingers together. Because, really, if his mom could see how incredible Rosie was… then that just meant Katsuki had been right about her all along.
“We still have class,” Katsuki smiled, causing her to groan because he knew she hated going to her chemistry class.
Notes:
I love writing Mitsuki, she is so fun to write but anyway, meeting the mother is out of the way and we'll be getting some more easy smut and drama as it's October so we'll be getting into some spooky fun<3
Chapter 55: If you keep doing things like this, you’re going to ruin me.
Chapter Text
Bored.
Rosie Takahashi is bored out of her mind.
Why?
Because, for once, everything was calm.
Midterms were over, and with that, both school and work had settled into a rare moment of peace. Her dad was still away on his assignment, and Katsuki is off dealing with some hero work. Normally, she would have welcomed the quiet—would’ve relished in the rare opportunity to relax without any looming deadlines or responsibilities.
But now?
Now, she sat alone in her apartment, legs dangling off the edge of her couch, sighing dramatically as Maya, watched her from across the room with mild concern.
“I know, Maya,” Rosie muttered, tilting her head back against the cushions. “I could do something productive, but I already did everything.”
And that was the problem.
Her apartment? Spotless.
Laundry? Done and folded.
Maya? Taken to the dog park and walked.
Homework? Completed ahead of schedule.
Work? Not even scheduled today.
She had nothing to do.
With another sigh, she pulled out her phone and stared at her lockscreen—a photo of her, her parents, and Eri. It made her smile, but when her screen dimmed, she was met with her homescreen, which featured something much more distracting.
Katsuki. A picture she had taken of him at the swim party, his hair damp and spiked, skin sun-kissed, and smirking like the devil. God, her boyfriend is so stupidly attractive.
She groaned, flopping onto her side. “This sucks.”
As if on cue, her phone rang. She nearly dropped it in her rush to answer.
“Hey, babes!” Mina’s voice rang cheerfully through the speaker. “The girls and I are going costume shopping—wanna come?”
Rosie shot up immediately. “Yes.”
And that was how she found herself throwing on a pair of gray sweatpants and a black compression crop top before heading out to the mall. She met Mina there, and together, they found Uraraka and Momo already waiting at a small café, their drinks in hand. After grabbing smoothies of their own, the four of them sat at a round table, leaning in as they brainstormed ideas.
“So, you’re not doing a couple costume?” Rosie asked, glancing between Mina and Uraraka, both of whom were in relationships—Mina with Kirishima, and Uraraka with Izuku.
Mina grinned. “Oh, we are.”
“The guys just let us pick what we go as,” Uraraka added, setting down her smoothie.
Rosie hummed in thought before taking a sip of her drink. “Do you guys have any ideas?”
“What about you?” Mina countered with a playful grin. “What’s your plan?”
Rosie hesitated, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the condensation on her cup. “I was actually planning on going as my DnD character,” she admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed. “I know it’s not that cool or anything, but I think it would be fun.”
Mina gasped, nearly smacking the table. “That’s such a great idea!”
Momo’s eyes lit up. “That actually sounds fun—and there’s no chance of us running into others with the same costumes.”
“Ooh,” Uraraka clapped her hands together. “Then that’s what we’ll do!”
Rosie blinked, surprised by their enthusiasm. “Wait, really?”
“Hell yeah!” Mina grinned. “Let’s make it a group costume—we’ll all go as fantasy adventurers!”
“Agreed,” Momo nodded. “If we’re going to do this, we should commit fully.”
Rosie’s lips parted, then slowly, she smiled. “Alright,” she said, excitement bubbling in her chest. “Let’s do it.”
Mina cheered, and just like that, their costume shopping mission had officially begun.
Rosie had chosen to play as a high elven runaway princess turned skilled adventurer—a complete badass. It was a character she had spent months crafting, from the details of her tragic backstory to the way she carried herself in battle. So naturally, if she was going to bring her to life for
Halloween, the costume had to be perfect.
As they wandered through the mall, she pulled up Minterest for inspiration, scrolling through different fantasy designs to match the rough image in her mind. Elegant yet battle-ready—something that exuded power but still carried the regal grace of an elven princess.
Luckily for her, living in a superhero society made things a lot easier when it came to finding the right materials. Costume shops carried more than just fabric and plastic weapons; they had reinforced armor, enchanted accessories, and even minor powered gear for those looking to go all out. It didn’t take long before she found what she needed.
The other girls had equally elaborate ideas for their own characters.
Mina had decided to go as a Lady of the Dragon Court, embodying an acid dragon who ruled beside her husband—aka, Kirishima. Uraraka had chosen to play as a human ranger, a skilled archer who lived in the deep woods. Momo, ever the elegant strategist, decided on a human enchantress, a Lady of the human royal court who was as dangerous as she was beautiful.
By the time they finished gathering everything, their arms were full of shopping bags, and their stomachs were grumbling.
“We need food,” Mina groaned dramatically. “Like, right now.”
Uraraka laughed. “There’s a sushi place nearby. Let’s go there.”
Momo nodded. “That sounds perfect.”
With that, they made their way to the restaurant, slipping into a large booth near the back. The scent of fresh fish and warm rice filled the air as they settled in, placing their bags beside them. Just as Rosie picked up the menu, her phone vibrated against the table. She glanced down at the screen, and her heart did a tiny flip.
Pomchi💖
A small smile tugged at her lips as she unlocked her phone.
Pomchi💖: Where r u?
Pomchi💖: I called and u didn’t pick up.
Pomchi💖: Tch. Answer me, woman.
Rosie bit back a laugh at his impatience before quickly typing out a response.
Rosie: I’m out with the girls! We went costume shopping. We just sat down to eat.
Rosie: Are you still on patrol?
A moment later, the typing bubble appeared.
Pomchi💖: Yeah. Fuckin’ boring today. Some dumbasses tried to rob a convenience store with fakeshit weapons. Piss-poor planning. Barely took two minutes to stop ‘em.
She could hear the irritation in his words, and it made her chuckle.
Rosie: Poor pomchi. So hard being the best hero around, huh? 🥺
It took a few seconds before he replied.
Pomchi💖: Damn right it is 😏What costume did you get?
Rosie smiled, snapping a quick picture of the fabric peeking out of one of her bags.
Rosie: Going as my DnD character! An elven princess turned adventurer.
His response was immediate.
Pomchi💖: Hah. That tracks.
Pomchi💖: Bet you look hot in it.
Her face burned.
Before she could reply, Uraraka leaned over, peeking at her phone screen. “Ooooh, is that Bakugou?” she sing-songed, grinning.
Rosie yelped, flipping her phone facedown on the table. “Uraraka!”
Uraraka chuckled. “I assume he’s checking in on you?”
Mina giggled. “That’s cute.”
Rosie groaned, pressing her hands to her face. “You guys are the worst.”
Mina smirked. “Nah, he’s the worst. You’re just lovesick.”
Rosie: You’re not getting a peek until then
Pomchi💖: Who knew that my girlfriend is such a tease.
Growing bold, Rosie decided to be a real tease, growing confident, she quickly typed back. Rosie: I bought a couple of different costumes for the halloween parties and events that Mina and Momo told me that we’re invited to for this month.
Pomchi💖: Fuck, doll, you’re making me hard while I’m working.
Pomchi💖: Fuck, is it bad that I can’t stop thinking about shoving my face between those beautiful legs of yours?
She swallowed hard, staring at the message, her fingers tightening around her phone. The teasing had been fun—innocent enough—but she hadn’t expected that kind of response, hadn’t anticipated the way her entire body would tingle just from reading his words. She wasn’t even with him, and yet, he had her feeling like a live wire, buzzing with anticipation.
Rosie: You’re the one getting all worked up over a few costumes. That’s on you, pomchi.
His reply came almost instantly.
Pomchi💖: Tch. Keep runnin’ that mouth, princess.
Pomchi💖: I’ll shut you up real fast when I see you.
As Rosie read Katsuki’s message, heat bloomed in her cheeks, spreading down her neck like wildfire. Her breath hitched, and she pressed her thighs together, her body reacting to his words instantly. A shiver ran down her spine, and she sucked in a breath. She was about to type back when another message popped up.
Pomchi💖: I gotta finish patrol. Text me when you get home.
Pomchi💖: Don’t make me hunt you down, woman.
Rolling her eyes fondly, she quickly typed back. Rosie: Yes, yes, I’ll let you know. Stay safe, okay?
Pomchi💖: Always.
She locked her phone and set it aside, still feeling the heat simmering beneath her skin. Mina and Uraraka exchanged knowing smirks, but thankfully, they didn’t tease her any further.
The warm glow of the city stretched out before Rosie as she lounged on her balcony, cradling a glass of wine in one hand and a book in the other. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of autumn, but she was perfectly comfortable in Katsuki’s oversized t-shirt, which hung off one shoulder, paired with just her panties.
She exhaled slowly, turning a page, letting the quiet of the evening settle over her. It had been a while since she had a night like this— peaceful, uninterrupted, just her, her wine, and a good book.
And yet…
She missed him.
She had been thinking about him ever since their texts earlier, her body still remembering the way his words had made her feel. It was ridiculous how much she craved him, how much she just wanted to feel his warmth, his touch, to bury herself against his chest and breathe him in.
With a sigh, she took another sip of wine and tried to refocus on the page in front of her.
Then, without warning— BOOM .
A sudden explosion of heat and movement caught her attention, and before she could even process what was happening, a figure landed on her balcony railing.
Rosie’s eyes went wide as she looked up—
And there he is.
Katsuki stood before her, still in his hero uniform, chest rising and falling heavily, sweat glistening on his skin. His mask was still on, only highlighting those burning crimson eyes that locked onto her with an intensity that made her stomach flip.
In his hand, slightly crumpled from his grip, was a bouquet of roses.
Her heart stopped .
“K-Katsuki?” she breathed, barely able to find her voice. “What the hell—?!”
He didn’t let her finish.
Jumping down from the balcony, he was in front of her, one hand wrapping around the back of her neck, the other gripping her waist, and then—
He kissed her.
It was desperate, consuming, like he had been holding back for hours and simply couldn’t any longer. His lips were hot against hers, slightly rough from the night’s patrol, but she didn’t care. She melted into him, her fingers gripping the front of his suit, pulling him closer.
When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, his breath uneven.
“I needed to see you,” he muttered, voice rough, almost pained. “Couldn’t fuckin’ wait.”
Rosie swallowed, her heart racing. “You— you just blasted up to my balcony. ”
He scoffed. “Yeah, and?”
She huffed a small laugh, but it quickly faded as she took in the look on his face— the raw, unfiltered need.
“Missed you doll,” he admitted, and her chest clenched at the vulnerability in his voice.
Softening, she reached up, running her fingers through his damp hair. “I missed you too.”
His grip on her tightened, and for a moment, neither of them spoke, simply soaking in the closeness, the warmth, the sheer relief of being in each other’s arms.
Then, Katsuki smirked slightly, finally pulling back just enough to hand her the slightly crumpled roses. “These are for you,” he mumbled, looking a little embarrassed.
Rosie took them, her lips curling into a smile as she glanced up at him. “You’re ridiculous.”
His smirk widened. “Yeah, but you like me.”
And God help her, she did .
As Rosie held the bouquet of roses in her hands, she couldn't stop the warmth that spread through her chest. The petals were soft beneath her fingertips, their scent sweet and delicate. She glanced up at Katsuki, who was watching her with an unreadable expression, his crimson eyes flickering in the dim city light.
“Thank you,” she murmured, bringing the flowers to her nose and inhaling deeply.
Katsuki scoffed lightly, shifting his weight. “Tch. ‘Course.”
A thought struck her then, and she frowned slightly. “Wait, aren’t you still on patrol?”
He exhaled through his nose, his breath fanning against her skin as he leaned in, his lips ghosting over hers. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I’m on duty with Icy Bastard.”
Rosie’s frown deepened. “What time do you get off?”
Katsuki’s fingers found their way to the back of her neck, his grip firm yet careful as he tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I switch shifts at three.”
Her heart clenched. “Aren’t you tired?”
He chuckled, low and rough, his lips curling into a smirk. “Yes and no.”
She furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”
Katsuki hummed, thumb stroking absently over her skin. “Missed beating the shit out of people.”
Rosie couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped her, shaking her head. “That’s terrible.”
“Yeah? Well, it’s true,” he shot back, a teasing glint in his eyes.
Still, despite his bravado, worry twisted in her chest. “You’re still pushing yourself too hard,” she murmured, her fingers grazing over the collar of his suit.
His smirk softened. “I’ll be fine. Always come home to you, don’t I?”
Rosie’s heart squeezed at the quiet sincerity in his voice. She nodded, holding onto him just a little tighter. “Then I’ll wait up for you.”
His expression darkened slightly. “No. You should go to bed.”
She pouted. “Katsuki—”
“No arguments, doll.” He leaned closer, his forehead nearly pressing against hers. “I don’t want you staying up just ‘cause of me.”
She huffed, but before he could smirk in victory, she added, “Then at least text me when you get back to your apartment.”
A beat of silence. Then, his lips twitched. “Yeah, yeah, I will.”
Satisfied, she let out a soft sigh and leaned into him, relishing in his warmth. Katsuki pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, his grip tightening around her waist for a moment before loosening again.
She pulled back just slightly, looking at him with fond amusement. “If you keep doing things like this, you’re going to ruin me.”
The shift in Katsuki’s expression was immediate. The teasing glint in his eyes darkened into something deeper— something raw and possessive. His hands cupped her face firmly, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks as he leaned in, his breath hot against her lips.
“Oh, Rosie, my pretty little girlfriend ,” he murmured, voice low and full of promise. “That's the plan. I intend to ruin you because it will always be me. You and I were made for one another. Always.”
A shiver ran down her spine, heat pooling in her stomach as she let out a breathless gasp. Before she could even think of a response, his lips were on hers— slow, hard, all-consuming .
She felt herself melt into him, gripping onto the fabric of his suit as his tongue traced along the seam of her lips, coaxing her deeper into the kiss. It wasn’t just desire— it was ownership, devotion, a silent declaration that she was his just as much as he was hers.
By the time he pulled away, her breath was unsteady, and she could barely keep her thoughts straight. Katsuki smirked, his thumb brushing over her kiss-swollen lips. “If you’re gonna sit out here,” he murmured, voice husky, “use a blanket, don’t want you catching a cold doll.”
Rosie blinked, still dazed, as he stepped back toward the edge of the balcony.
And then, with a cocky wink, he added, “You’re mine , doll.”
Before she could even respond, he was gone, launching himself back into the night. Rosie exhaled shakily, bringing her fingers up to her lips.
Oh, she was so, so ruined.
The world was hazy and warm when Rosie stirred, her mind slow to pull itself from sleep. She barely registered the dip of the mattress before she was enveloped in strong arms, pulled effortlessly into familiar warmth.
A deep, satisfied hum rumbled against her ear, and she blinked, bleary-eyed, her cheek squished against a firm chest.
“Katsuki?” Her voice was soft, thick with sleep. She inhaled, catching the clean scent of soap and something distinctly him . “Did you just come in?”
His grip on her tightened briefly before relaxing. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice rough and low.
Rosie turned her head, eyes drifting to the clock on the nightstand. 3:07 AM.
She exhaled softly and rolled over, pressing herself fully into his embrace. His skin was warm beneath her fingertips, freshly showered, but his body still carried the residual tension of the night.
“How was patrol?” she mumbled against his chest, feeling the slow rise and fall of it beneath her.
“Tch.” He let out a tired sigh. “Too many dumbass villains.”
Rosie giggled, the sound light and sleepy, as she reached up, threading her fingers into his damp hair. She massaged his scalp gently, feeling how his muscles uncoiled under her touch, the way his breath evened out.
His grip around her waist tightened, pulling her impossibly closer until she was half-draped over him, her leg slipping between his. She flushed at the intimacy of it, at the way his hold on her was so solid, so grounding.
He let out a long exhale, the sound making warmth bloom in her chest.
Rosie tilted her head, catching the way his eyes were half-lidded, his features softer in the dim light. He looks so tired…
Her heart squeezed at the thought, and she brushed her fingers gently through his hair again.
Katsuki hummed, his voice deeper now, raspier with exhaustion. “Feels good,” he muttered.
Rosie swallowed, her cheeks heating. His sleepy voice, the way he just melted into her touch—it made something stir deep inside her.
But more than that, she felt something else, something that had her tucking her face against his shoulder, smiling against his skin.
He is home. And he is hers.
“Goodnight darling,” she murmured.
“Goodnight pretty girl…”
The morning light filtered softly through the curtains as Rosie stirred, her body warm and comfortable beneath the blankets. Katsuki’s arm was still draped heavily over her waist, his slow, even breathing against the back of her neck telling her he was still fast asleep.
Carefully, she slipped out from under his hold, moving with practiced ease to avoid waking him. She padded across the room, stretching briefly before heading to the bathroom.
When she returned, Katsuki hadn’t moved, his face buried in the pillow, his hair a messy halo of blonde against the sheets. The sight made her smile, a quiet giggle slipping past her lips as she crawled back into bed.
She barely had a second to settle before she was suddenly yanked back into his warmth.
A startled squeak left her as Katsuki curled around her, his arm locking firmly around her waist, his body molding against hers. His hand slid beneath her shirt, fingers splaying across her stomach, pressing her back tightly against his chest.
She flushed, biting her lip at the warmth of his palm against her bare skin.
Then she shivered when he dipped his head, his breath tickling her ear.
“So wiggly in the morning.” His voice was deep, rough with sleep.
Rosie squirmed, biting back a giggle. “That’s because you’re tickling me.”
He just hummed, fingers flexing slightly against her stomach.
“What time is it?”
Rosie blinked, glancing at the clock. “It’s a little after eight.”
Katsuki groaned lowly, burying his face against her shoulder.
“You should go back to sleep,” she murmured softly.
He sighed against her skin, his hold on her tightening slightly. “Mmm. Only if you stay put.”
Rosie smiled, closing her eyes as she relaxed into his embrace. “Okay.”
The third time Rosie woke up, it was to the sound of Maya insistently pawing at the side of the bed, clearly demanding attention. With a sleepy groan, Rosie rubbed her eyes before slipping out of bed to take Maya out for the bathroom. The morning air was crisp, a stark contrast to the warmth she had just left behind in bed. She could still feel Katsuki’s lingering heat against her skin as she made her way back to the apartment.
When she stepped inside, the smell of food greeted her, and her lips curled into a soft smile. As she padded into the kitchen, her breath caught at the sight before her— Katsuki, standing by the stove, shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of low-hanging sweatpants.
God, help her.
The way the morning light hit his golden skin, the defined lines of muscle shifting as he moved— it was almost unfair how good he looked.
Biting her lip, Rosie hopped onto the kitchen island, swinging her legs slightly as she watched him. “Good morning,” she mused.
Katsuki, still blinking away sleep, turned to her slowly. His gaze softened for a moment before he leaned in, pressing a slow, warm kiss against her lips. “Mornin’.”
She smiled against his lips, kissing him once more before pulling back. “We have class later,” she reminded him.
He let out an exaggerated sigh. “Don’t remind me.”
She giggled, resting her chin in her hand. It was only Wednesday, which meant they were only halfway through the week.
“What else do you have to do today?” she asked, watching as he flipped something in the pan.
“I gotta return my old uniform since I’m officially a Pro Hero now,” he muttered, sounding both proud and irritated at the same time. “Then fill out a shit ton of paperwork and turn it in. After that, I’ve got another shift patrolling with Kirishima tonight.”
Rosie hummed, tapping her fingers against the counter. “You should just skip class and sleep some more.”
Katsuki smirked slightly, side-eyeing her. “Think so?”
“Yes,” she grinned. “You deserve it.”
He chuckled, shaking his head before plating the food. “And what’s on your schedule today?”
Rosie stretched her arms above her head before answering. “Class, then my shift, and after that, I’m going out with the girls tonight.”
Katsuki frowned, turning to her with an unimpressed look. “None of the guys are going?”
Rosie smiled, shaking her head. “Nope, just us girls. Momo is the designated driver for tonight if that makes you feel better.”
Katsuki exhaled through his nose, nodding. “Fine. Send me what you’re wearing, doll.”
She raised a brow, amused. “Won’t you be working though?”
“And?”
“Won’t that be distracting?”
Katsuki turned, stepping between her legs, his hands settling on her thighs as he leaned in, voice dropping to a low murmur. “Doll, just you existing is distracting me.”
Heat rushed to her face, and before she could protest, he started pressing kisses all over her face— her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose.
“ Katsu —” she giggled, trying to squirm away as he grinned against her skin, placing another kiss at the corner of her lips.
“Too late,” he murmured, his arms looping around her waist. “You’re mine, so I get to do this whenever I want.”
Rosie giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck, feeling ridiculously happy.
Rosie stood in front of her mirror, inspecting her reflection as she slipped on a pair of heels. The dress she had chosen was… well, it was short. And tight. And left little to the imagination. It hugged every curve, dipping low in the front and riding dangerously high on her thighs.
She bit her lip, tilting her head before grabbing her phone.
With a deep breath, she snapped a picture and sent it to Katsuki.
Rosie: [Attachment: 1 Image]
Rosie: Ready for girls' night!
She barely had time to grab her clutch before her phone vibrated with an immediate reply.
Pomchi💖: Fuck.
Pomchi💖: You’re really tryna kill me, huh?
Pomchi💖: How the hell am I supposed to focus at work when you’re out lookin’ like that, huh?
Her cheeks burned as she typed back.
Rosie: I thought you said just existing distracts you?
Pomchi💖: Don’t get smart with me, doll. This is fuckin’ torture.
Pomchi💖: You gonna let me take that dress off later?
Rosie nearly tripped over her own feet as she read his message.
Rosie: Katsuki!
Pomchi💖: What? I’m just sayin’. That dress is hot, but you’d look even better without it.
Pomchi💖: Preferably under me making those little whining noises that you do.
Her face was on fire.
Rosie: I have to go! Momo is waiting for me!
Pomchi💖: Tch. Fine. But you better text me when you get home.
Pomchi💖: And send me more pictures, doll.
Rosie bit her lip, stepping out of the building and making her way toward Momo’s car, where Mina and the others were already waiting.
Mina leaned out the window, grinning. “Ooooh, someone’s blushing! That Bakugou?”
Rosie groaned, sliding into the car. “I hate you all.”
Momo giggled, starting the engine. “We love you too, Rosie.”
As the car pulled away, Rosie glanced down at her phone one last time.
Pomchi💖: Have fun, baby. But not too much fun.
Pomchi💖: Remember who you belong to.
Her heart fluttered.
Rosie: Always.
The bass of the music thrummed through Rosie’s veins the moment they stepped into the club, neon lights flashing across the sea of dancing bodies. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, perfume, and alcohol, and she could already feel the buzz of excitement settle in her chest.
Mina was the first to take charge, grabbing Rosie and Uraraka by the wrists and dragging them toward the bar. “First round’s on me, ladies!” she declared, waving at Momo and Jirou to join them.
They barely had time to get settled before Mina shoved a shot of tequila into each of their hands.
“To girls' night!” she cheered.
“To girls' night!” they all echoed, clinking their glasses together before throwing their heads back and downing the shot. The burn slid down Rosie’s throat, hot and smooth, making her shiver slightly as she slammed her empty glass onto the counter.
It didn’t take long for the alcohol to start warming her from the inside out. By their third round, Rosie was already laughing more freely, her limbs loose and light. The world around her felt softer, hazier, more fun.
“Alright, time to dance!” Mina declared, grabbing both Rosie and Uraraka as she pulled them onto the dance floor.
The music pulsed around them, the beat sinking deep into their bones. Rosie let herself get lost in it, moving her hips in time with the rhythm as Mina and Uraraka pressed close, all of them laughing as they swayed together.
Mina was a wild dancer, spinning and twirling with abandon, while Uraraka giggled as she moved in sync with them. Rosie, caught between them, found herself letting go completely, throwing her arms up and letting the music take over.
She didn’t know how long they stayed on the dance floor, but eventually, the heat and the energy became too much. They stumbled back to the bar, breathless and flushed, immediately ordering another round of shots.
Rosie barely tasted this one as it went down, the alcohol hitting her full force now. The world felt warm, vibrant, and everything was funny for some reason.
“We should dance again,” Uraraka giggled, swaying slightly against the counter.
Mina shook her head, resting her chin on Rosie’s shoulder. “No, no. One more drink first.”
So they drank. And then they danced again.
Back and forth they went, the night turning into a blur of flashing lights, laughter, and alcohol. Rosie wasn’t sure how many shots she’d taken, only that her head felt light and her body hummed with warmth.
It wasn’t until Mina suddenly gasped dramatically, clutching Rosie’s arm, that things took a turn.
“I need tacos,” Mina announced, eyes wide.
Rosie blinked at her, giggling. “What?”
“Tacos,” Mina repeated, gripping her shoulders. “Right now.”
Momo, who had been sipping on a cocktail, nodded solemnly. “That… that’s a genius idea.”
Jirou raised her glass. “I second that.”
Uraraka cheered. “TACOS!”
That was all it took.
The next thing Rosie knew, they were stumbling out of the club, arms linked as they made their way down the sidewalk in search of the nearest taco place. Everything felt hilarious, from the way Uraraka almost tripped over her own feet to Mina attempting to hail a cab by waving her shoe in the air.
Rosie giggled, pulling out her phone, her vision slightly blurry as she typed out a message.
Rosie: katsuuuukiiiiiiii~
Rosie: we r gettin TACOS
Rosie: mina said she’ll die if she doesnt get tacos
She barely had time to put her phone away before it buzzed aggressively in her hand.
Pomchi💖: The fuck, doll? Where are you?
Pomchi💖: Who let you wander the streets drunk?
Rosie giggled, leaning on Momo as she typed back.
Rosie: with the girls sillyyy we r fine momo is sober
Rosie: taco time!!!
There was a long pause before her phone buzzed again.
Pomchi💖: Fucking hell doll. Text me when you get there.
Pomchi💖: And when you’re leaving.
Pomchi💖: And when you get home.
Pomchi💖: Fuck it, just text me every five minutes.
Rosie giggled again, showing Mina the texts. “He’s so bossy,” she mused.
Mina grinned, stumbling beside her. “He’s obsessed with you, babe.”
Rosie felt warmth spread through her chest—though it might have just been the tequila. Either way, she smiled as she typed out her reply.
Rosie: ok ok, i willll. you’re so sweet when you’re worried
Pomchi💖: Shut up.
Pomchi💖: Eat your damn tacos and be safe.
Rosie giggled, slipping her phone into her bag as they finally spotted the glowing sign of a 24-hour taco shop just down the street.
“TACO TIME!” Uraraka cheered.
And with that, they stumbled inside. The small taco restaurant was warm and cozy, filled with the scent of sizzling meat, fresh tortillas, and melted cheese. The girls sat huddled together in a booth, their table covered in plates of tacos, half-eaten quesadillas, and a pitcher of margaritas they’d decided was absolutely necessary.
Rosie took a bite of her carne asada taco, humming in delight as the flavors burst on her tongue. “God, this is so good,” she mumbled through her mouthful.
“Told you,” Mina grinned, licking some salsa off her finger. “Nothing hits like tacos after drinking and dancing.”
As they ate, the drunken haze of the night settled into something warm and giddy. Laughter filled the air as they recounted their favorite parts of the night so far— Mina trying to dance on the bar, Uraraka almost tripping over a guy’s foot, and Rosie somehow convincing the bartender to give them an extra round for free.
Then, out of nowhere, Uraraka gasped, her eyes lighting up with a tipsy kind of excitement. “You guys,” she said, leaning forward, “we should totally get tattoos.”
There was a pause.
Mina and Rosie immediately slammed their hands on the table. “YES.”
“Oh my God, YES,” Rosie giggled, already buzzing with excitement.
Jirou raised a brow. “You guys are so wasted.”
“Exactly, that’s what makes it fun!” Uraraka beamed, bouncing in her seat. “We can all get little matching tattoos or something cool!”
“Wait, wait,” Momo held up a hand, shaking her head. “Maybe we should wait until we’re not drunk to make this kind of decision.”
“But whyyy,” Mina whined dramatically, flopping against Rosie. “Drunk tattoos are so classic .”
Tooru grinned. “I mean, it’d be kinda sexy, right?”
Tsuyu tilted her head, thinking. “I don’t not want one.”
Jirou smirked, sipping her margarita. “I’ll go with the majority.”
Rosie turned to Momo with wide, pleading eyes. “Come on, Momo, just one little tattoo!”
Momo sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before looking at the rest of the table. “You’re all going to do this regardless of what I say, aren’t you?”
A chorus of yeses rang out.
Momo groaned, finishing the last of her margarita before standing. “Fine. But don’t come crying to me if you wake up regretting it.”
The girls cheered , immediately scarfing down the rest of their tacos and margaritas before stumbling out of the restaurant.
The tattoo parlor was conveniently located next door, dimly lit with neon signs that glowed in deep blues and purples. The walls were covered in beautiful artwork, sheets of tattoo designs pinned up behind the counter. The scent of antiseptic mixed with faint traces of ink, giving the place an oddly calming atmosphere.
“Whoa,” Mina breathed, eyes wide as she took in the space. “This is so cool.”
The tattoo artist, a tall woman with short blue hair and intricate sleeve tattoos, looked up from behind the counter, raising a brow at the clearly intoxicated group. “Lemme guess. Drunk tattoo decisions?”
“Yup,” Uraraka chirped.
The artist smirked, crossing her arms. “Alright, who’s first?”
"Me!" Uraraka eagerly waved her hand in the air, which Rosie wasn't surprised since it was her decision in the first place. Rosie stumbled over to one of the many large binders on the glass case and began to pilfer through it before she finally found the one.
Chapter 56: I need to make sure my drunk off her ass girlfriend doesn’t end up with a taco tattoo or some shit.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki’s comm crackled with Kirishima’s voice, but his phone buzzing in his pocket distracted him. He slipped it out, frowning when he saw Babydoll name flashing across the screen.
“Gimme a sec,” he muttered to Kirishima before answering. “Doll?”
“Hiiii, Pomchi~” Rosie’s voice rang out, way too loud and giggly. Katsuki blinked, instantly on edge.
“...Are you drunk?”
“Whaaat? Nooo,” she slurred, then promptly started giggling like an idiot. “Okay, maybe a little bit... but only ‘cause the girls kept buying shots, and then Mina wanted tacos, and then Uraraka—oh! Oh! Guess what!”
Katsuki chuckled, already running a hand through his hair. “What?”
“I’m getting a tattooooo!” she sang, sounding far too excited.
His eyes widened. “You’re what?”
“A tattoo,” she repeated, as if that would help. “It’s gonna be soooo pretty.”
“Where the hell are you?”
“Uhmmm…” There was a pause, followed by muffled sounds of Rosie asking one of the girls something. “I dunno... somewhere with tacos and pictures on the wall. Momo’s here! And Mina! And Uraraka! Everyone’s here!”
Katsuki swore under his breath. “Rosie, babydoll, listen to me,” he said tightly. “I need you to share your location with me right now.”
“Okaaayyy~” she giggled again, and he could hear her fumbling with her phone. “Oh! There it is! Sending it now!”
The notification popped up immediately on his screen.
“Good. Stay right there,” he ordered firmly.
“‘Kay!” she sang, still sounding absolutely hammered. “See you later, Pomchi~”
“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki muttered before hanging up, already turning on his heel.
Kirishima, who had been eavesdropping the entire time, blinked in confusion. “Uh… everything okay?”
“No,” Katsuki growled, voice low and dark. “I need to make sure my drunk off her ass girlfriend doesn’t end up with a taco tattoo or some shit.”
Kirishima choked, “is Mina getting a tattoo?”
“Apparently all the girls are getting tattoos,” Katsuki shook his head in disbelief
Kirishima ran a hand through his hair, “damn, I really wanna see that. Have fun getting your girlfriend back.”
Katsuki shot through the streets like a blazing comet, using his explosions to launch himself across rooftops. The icy night air stung his face, but he barely felt it — his focus was locked on one thing: Rosie.
Katsuki’s boots hit the pavement hard as he launched himself across rooftops, explosions blasting from his palms. His mind raced just as fast as his body —a whirlwind of irritation, worry, and disbelief.
Tattoo? Really? When she's drunk off her ass?
When he landed outside the tattoo parlor, Katsuki didn’t hesitate — he stormed inside, his sharp gaze cutting through the dimly lit room. Neon blue light bathed everything in a cold glow, and the scent of ink, antiseptic, and greasy tacos hung heavy in the air.
His eyes zeroed in on the group of girls sprawled in a booth, margarita cups in hand, laughing like idiots. Momo looked particularly exhausted, sipping water like she’d been shouldering the weight of responsibility for the entire group.
“Momo,” Katsuki barked, voice low and tight. “Where’s Rosie?”
Momo blinked up at him, startled. “Oh! She’s in the back room,” she said, pointing down the hall. “Bakugou, maybe you should—"
He didn’t bother to listen. He was already shoving past the curtain.
And there she was.
Rosie lay on her side, her dress bunched high on her hip, panties pushed just enough to the side to reveal her bare skin. The tattoo artist, a woman with sharp eyes and dark hair tied back in a messy bun, was focused as she carefully worked on the delicate butterfly design etched into Rosie’s hip.
Rosie’s head lifted at the sound of his boots thudding across the floor. Her face lit up instantly, her smile all lazy and dopey.
“Pomchi!” she slurred, grinning wide. Her arm reached for him, but the tattoo artist clicked her tongue in irritation.
“Hold still,” the woman muttered.
Rosie giggled and dropped her hand with a pout, instead wiggling her fingers in a lazy wave.
Katsuki let out a heavy breath and dragged a hand down his face. “Doll,” he muttered, stepping closer. His gaze flicked to the small, intricate design on her hip —a delicate butterfly with its wings outstretched, curling across her skin. It was... surprisingly pretty. Beautiful, even.
“You couldn’t wait ‘til you were sober?”
Rosie grinned sleepily. “S’gonna look so pretty,” she cooed.
“Yeah?” Katsuki muttered dryly. “Hope it’s worth the hangover you’re getting.”
The tattoo artist smirked faintly, still working. “She’s been good—hasn’t moved much,” she said. “I’ll be done in a few minutes.”
Katsuki crossed his arms and stayed close, hovering like a protective shadow. Rosie’s eyes kept flicking up at him, her expression soft and dreamy.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, doll,” he muttered.
Rosie giggled again, her smile warm and sweet. “It’s pretty…” she slurred.
“It is pretty,” he admitted, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “I hope you don’t regret this in the morning.”
She hummed, barely coherent.
Katsuki shook his head with a chuckle. “You’re adorable,”
Once the artist finished, Katsuki stepped forward and handed over his card without hesitation. “I’ve got this,” he grunted, and the woman just smirked knowingly as she rang him up.
When Rosie finally sat up, her fingers immediately went to her new tattoo. “So pretty,” she mumbled again, voice soft with awe.
“You ready to go home?” Katsuki asked.
Rosie’s head whipped up so fast she nearly tipped over. “Mhm!” she beamed, swaying slightly as she stood.
Katsuki grabbed her waist to steady her. “Easy, drunky,” he muttered, guiding her toward the front.
Mina, still giggling between bites of a taco, spotted them first. “Oooh, look who’s takin’ his girl home,” she teased, her words slurred.
“I’ll take her from here,” Katsuki said. “She’s done enough for one night.”
Momo shot him a grateful smile. “I was just about to call Ojiro to pick up Tooru,” she sighed.
“Good luck with that,” Katsuki muttered dryly before steering Rosie toward the door.
By the time they stumbled into Rosie’s apartment, Katsuki had an arm wrapped tightly around her waist, practically carrying her to her apartment as she stumbled against him in her heels.
“Pomchiiii,” Rosie drawled, leaning heavily against him. “You smell soooo goooood…”
He snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Come on.”
Once inside, he guided her straight to her room. Rosie flopped face-first onto the bed with a dramatic sigh.
“Gotta change,” Katsuki muttered, grabbing her pajama shorts and one of his old hoodies from her drawer.
“Don’t wanna move,” Rosie whined into her pillow.
“You’re not sleeping in that dress,” he huffed.
With surprising patience, Katsuki knelt beside her, carefully unzipping her dress and helping her out of it. She giggled drunkenly the whole time, squirming as his fingers brushed her sides.
“You’re so handsy,” she teased.
Katsuki snorted. “I’m tryin’ to get you dressed, dumbass.”
He tugged her pajama shorts on, then helped her sit up long enough to pull the hoodie over her head. She immediately curled into him, burying her face against his chest.
“You’re stayin’, right?” she murmured.
“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki muttered, running his fingers through her hair. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
“Good…” Rosie’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper. “Don’t wanna be alone… want you here…”
“I’m here,” he promised, but as soon as she fell asleep, he got up to change out of his hero uniform. He glanced back at her, “...You’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered, but there was nothing but quiet affection behind his words.
Katsuki leaned back in the booth, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his gaze fixed on the table. His mind wasn’t on the conversation buzzing around him—it was stuck on Rosie.
Ever since he’d started back as a Pro Hero, his name had been all over the headlines. Half the time, it was some dumbass article about his explosive temper or his rough attitude. The media loved twisting every glare, every barked order, into some scandal. They even obsessed over his habit of texting during fights—they should fuck off and leave him to text his girlfriend in peace.
He didn’t care about any of that noise. The only thing that mattered was her. His gorgeous doll—the one person he reserved his softest side for.
He thought back to that morning, his lips twitching faintly. Rosie had been curled up in bed, looking like an absolute mess — hair tangled, eyes still half-lidded with sleep, her hoodie slipping off one shoulder. Hungover as hell but still stubborn enough to shuffle into the kitchen to make him coffee.
“Gotta make sure you’re all fueled up, Pomchi,” she’d mumbled, voice groggy as she kissed his cheek.
She’d smiled all sweet and sleepy when she handed him his cup, her fingers curling around his like she didn’t want to let go. He remembered the faint peek of her new tattoo above her pajama shorts, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the delicate butterfly on her hip as if she still couldn’t believe it was real.
His fingers twitched against his arm as he remembered how badly he’d wanted to drag her back to bed—to tug her into his lap and make her whimper, to drown her in kisses until she forgot her own damn name.
Damn it...
But instead, he was stuck here, forced into another patrol shift thanks to Hawks’ ridiculous scheduling. Five a.m. to noon, then back out from ten to three a.m. It didn’t leave much time for anything—especially not time with Rosie.
“Yo, Bakubro?” Kirishima’s voice cut through his thoughts, snapping him back to reality. Katsuki blinked and realized their food had arrived — steaming plates of curry, rice, and grilled meat set in front of them.
“The hell do you want?” Katsuki grunted, reaching for his fork.
“I was just sayin’,” Kirishima chuckled, “I’m helping out at that horror escape room this weekend. Thought you guys might wanna come?”
“Horror escape room?” Izuku perked up, setting his glass down. “That sounds kinda cool!”
“Yeah!” Kirishima grinned. “The guy running it’s a friend of mine, asked me to help since I’m, y’know... built like a tank.” He flexed his arm with a proud grin. “Anyway, figured we could make a night out of it. You guys in?”
“I’ll go,” Shoto said simply, his usual calm tone unreadable.
“Sounds fun,” Izuku nodded. “Count me in!”
Katsuki scowled, chewing his food as if that would somehow make him invisible.
“Oh, come on,” Kirishima grinned, nudging him with his elbow. “You’ve gotta come, man! I covered for you twice last month. Don’t bail on me now!”
“Tch.” Katsuki jabbed his fork at his plate. “Fine,” he muttered, “but if it’s lame, I’m leavin’ early.”
Kirishima beamed. “Deal!”
As the conversation shifted, Katsuki found himself distracted again. His thoughts drifted back to Rosie—curled up in bed, smiling soft and sleepy.
Maybe if he was lucky, he'd get home early enough to sneak in a few more of those kisses before their next patrol.
Frustrated.
Frustration didn’t even begin to describe what Katsuki felt as he glared down at his phone. His teeth ground together as he reread the text from Hawks for the third time, a curt message telling him to start patrol earlier since several other Pro Heroes had called out sick. Apparently, the damn flu was spreading like wildfire, and now it was up to him and Deku to pick up the slack.
Just fucking great.
Katsuki shoved his phone back into his pocket with a muttered curse. He’d barely seen Rosie all week, not since that morning when she’d rushed out the door for work, still half-dressed and muttering apologies as she pulled her boots on. And then, as if the universe was conspiring against him, her dad had come back from an assignment that same night, so she’d spent the evening having dinner with him.
Katsuki hadn’t had one damn minute to spend with his girl.
It was Wednesday, and all he wanted was to pull Rosie into his arms, kiss the fuck out of her, and bury his face in her hair. Hell, he didn’t care if she was still wearing that stupid work apron or covered in flour from baking all day with Kanako — he just wanted her.
Instead, here he was, storming down the cold streets in his hero uniform, forced to patrol with Deku tagging along nearby. His mood was already circling the drain, his nerves pulled tight like a tripwire.
When the sharp crack of shattering glass rang out down the street, Katsuki’s head snapped up. His crimson eyes zeroed in on two masked idiots hauling duffel bags stuffed with cash out of a smashed bank window.
Perfect.
The corner of his mouth curled into a devilish grin.
“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me…” Deku muttered from behind him.
Katsuki ignored him, already lighting his palms. His blood was boiling — a wicked mix of frustration and pent-up energy begging for release.“OI, YOU SHITHEADS!” Katsuki bellowed, his voice echoing down the street like a gunshot. “I’M GONNA KILL YOUR ASSES!”
The two robbers flinched, one tripping over his own feet in panic but Katsuki was already moving. Explosions burst from his palms, launching him forward in a blur of smoke and sparks. By the time Deku caught up, both robbers were sprawled on the pavement, the other groaning in pain, the other babbling incoherently about “crazy murder heroes.” Katsuki stood over them, flexing his fingers like he was itching to blast them again.“Kacchan…” Deku started, frowning.
“They’re fine,” Katsuki snapped, shaking the soot from his hands.
His mind wasn’t even on the idiots at his feet, no, he was still stuck thinking about Rosie.
By Friday, Katsuki was ready to punch something.
The last few days had been a goddamn nightmare. Between patrol shifts, emergency calls, and Rosie’s own chaotic schedule, they kept missing each other like ships passing in the night. She’d leave him sleepy texts in the morning— Hope you have a good day, Pomchi! Miss you— and he’d leave her gruff voicemails before collapsing into bed at ridiculous hours.
It was driving him insane.
By the time Friday rolled around, Katsuki’s mood had soured past the point of no return. He couldn’t stop thinking about how long it had been since he’d had Rosie in his arms—since he’d kissed her, heard her laugh, felt her warm breath against his skin.
He didn’t just want her—he needed her. And if he didn’t get to see her soon, someone was gonna get blasted into next week.
However, tonight he would be working tonight as a scare actor for the horror escape room, the original actors had caught the flu just like everyone else was and the owner had asked Kirishima to find people to help and like the kind hearted person he is, he asked him along with icy hot and Deku.
Katsuki scowled as he pulled into the parking lot of the horror escape room, slamming his door shut harder than necessary. The place loomed ahead, a massive brick building with fog machines spewing mist from the entrance, giving the whole place a grim, unsettling vibe. Cheap strobe lights flickered from the dark windows, and faint, eerie music drifted through the air.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he trudged inside, the bell above the door jingling softly. The front lobby was dimly lit, the walls decorated with peeling wallpaper and splattered red handprints. Fake cobwebs dangled from the ceiling, and an old TV crackled static in the corner.
“Yo!” Kirishima’s bright voice broke the eerie atmosphere.
Behind the counter stood Kirishima, grinning like an excited kid. Shoto and Deku stood beside him, Deku shifting nervously on his feet, while Shoto looked completely unbothered, his usual blank expression firmly in place.
Katsuki grunted in greeting and stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets.
“Alright!” Kirishima clapped his hands together. “Let’s get you guys into costumes and makeup!”
“I ain’t wearin’ damn makeup,” Katsuki growled immediately, narrowing his eyes.
“Don’t worry, I already picked out your stuff,” Kirishima said cheerfully, waving him off as he grabbed a clipboard from the counter. “It’s all set up in the back room, just follow me.”
Katsuki grumbled under his breath as he followed Kirishima toward the employee-only door behind the counter, Deku and Shoto trailing behind him.
“You’re really not into this, huh?” Deku said cautiously from behind.
“No shit,” Katsuki snapped. “I’ve had zero free time, and now I gotta waste my night chasin’ dumbasses through a fake haunted house.”
“Could be fun,” Shoto added dryly. “You get to scare people without consequences.”
Katsuki’s scowl deepened. “Yeah, great.”
Still, at least after tonight, he’d have the whole weekend with Rosie —no patrols, no damn obligations— just him and his girl. He clenched his fists, reminding himself that all he had to do was get through a few hours of this horror nonsense, and then he could finally spend some time with her.
Katsuki’s chest heaved as he leaned against the cold, grimy wall of the horror escape room’s maze. Sweat clung to his skin beneath the blood-stained shirt that clung tightly to his torso. His mask, a twisted, metallic design splattered in fake gore, sat pushed up on his head for the moment, giving him a brief reprieve from the stifling heat.
The fake knife in his hand, while harmless, had some satisfying weight to it. He spun it once in his palm before gripping it tightly again, his fingers slick with sweat. He’d spent the past couple of hours relentlessly chasing screaming couples and terrified groups through his section of the building, sending them bolting down dark corridors and into dead ends.
He knew the others, Shoto, Deku, Kaminari, and Kirishima, were scattered across their own sections, pulling their own scare tactics. Shoto played the part of a ghostly figure in a blood-soaked suit, drifting silently through the halls like a living corpse. Deku had been assigned some twisted experiment victim role, crawling around and whispering in the dark. Kaminari played a deranged, giggling lunatic, while Kirishima unsurprisingly was a chainsaw-wielding maniac.
Two more hours, Katsuki reminded himself with a huff. Then I’m outta here.
His mind drifted to Rosie, her smile, her warm laugh, the way she always made his day better just by existing. He wondered how her shift was going, if she was still busy, if she was taking breaks, if she’d be as tired as he was by the time they both got home.
He sighed, dragging his mask back down over his face just as his earpiece crackled to life.
Katsuki’s boots thudded heavily against the creaky wooden floor, each step deliberate as he stalked through the dim corridor. His fake knife scraped along the wall, the sharp, grating noise ringing through the air like a twisted warning.
"New group just entered," Kirishima’s voice crackled through his earpiece. “They’re heading your way soon.”
Katsuki grunted in response, tugging his blood-splattered mask down over his face. His fingers flexed around the hilt of the knife, heavy and dull but still wicked-looking as he pushed forward. His uniform clung to him, sticky with sweat after hours of prowling and lunging through the maze of horror-themed rooms. Only two more hours to go—then he was done, and maybe, finally, he’d get some damn time with Rosie.
As he rounded a corner, movement caught his eye, a shadow slipping away from the main group. Katsuki grinned darkly beneath his mask.
Perfect.
The girl moved cautiously, peering around the dimly lit room she’d wandered into. It was a mock dining room, dressed to look like some sick scene from a massacre, overturned chairs, broken plates, and dark, smeared handprints streaked across the walls and table. The flickering red light overhead bathed everything in an eerie glow.
Keeping to the shadows, Katsuki weaved between the props, careful to stay just out of her line of sight. He shifted slowly, letting the creak of the floorboards and the faint scrape of his knife drag her attention in the wrong direction.
The girl paused, her head snapping toward the sound. Her breathing hitched.
“Hello?” she called, her voice tight with nerves.
Katsuki didn’t answer, instead stalking closer, blade scraping against metal once again. She flinched, turning in circles as her panic set in.
“I know someone’s there,” she muttered, her voice was trembling, thin and uneven.
Katsuki’s smirk widened. He moved into the faint glow just enough for her to glimpse the mask, bloodied, grotesque, and shadowed, before vanishing back into the dark.
The sharp gasp she let out was almost too perfect.
“Please… don’t scare me…”
The voice. That voice.
Katsuki froze for half a second, a flicker of something stirring in his chest — a tug of familiarity.
No way…
She stumbled into the next room —one that he knew was a dead end. He followed, boots thudding slower now, more deliberate. She was breathing heavily, each sharp inhale loud enough to guide him even without looking. The room was bathed in crimson light, deep shadows swallowing every corner. She backed up, eyes wide and darting, searching for a way out. Katsuki let the knife scrape against the wall one last time before stepping fully into the red glow.
The girl’s eyes locked onto him —blue, wide, and glassy with unshed tears.
No fucking way…
She let out a choked cry, stumbled back into the wall, and slid down until she was crumpled in a crouch. Her breath hitched, her hands shaking violently as she clutched her knees.“...Katsuki!” She screamed
His heart dropped like a stone.
“Shit.”
He tossed the knife aside with a heavy clatter and dropped to his knees in front of her, shoving the mask up just enough for her to see his face. “Fuck, Doll… what the hell are you doing here?” His voice was low, rough with guilt as he cupped her face between his hands. “You hate shit like this.”
Rosie sniffled, still shivering in her spot. Her eyes flickered over his face, relief washing over her as she whimpered and sagged forward into his chest.“I-I missed you…” she hiccuped against him, voice small and shaky. “I needed to see you… so I left work early to come visit, but the guy at the front thought I was part of a group. He told me I had to leave through the exit, and I was hoping I could find you to help me get out of here.”
Katsuki huffed out a breathless chuckle, pressing his lips to her temple. “Shit…” He let his eyes drift shut for a moment, holding her tighter as her fingers clung to his sweat-damp shirt. “You’re so fuckin’ adorable, you know that?”
Rosie whimpered, still clutching him like her life depended on it.
“You’re such a damn brat,” Katsuki muttered, pressing another kiss to her hair. But his voice was softer now —warm and low—because his chest was burning with pride. Pride and something deeper, something fierce and tender all at once.
His girl —who hated haunted houses, hated realistic scary experiences—had walked straight into a goddamn horror maze just to see him. Just because she missed him too much to wait until he was off work.
Shit, he thought, holding her closer. I don’t deserve her.
“C’mon, Doll,” he muttered against her hair. “Let’s get you outta here.”
The moment Rosie clung to him, Katsuki felt his chest tighten painfully. Her arms wound around his neck like she was afraid he'd disappear if she let go, her face tucked tightly against his chest. He could still feel her trembling slightly, and it only made the guilt hit harder.
“Hold me for a minute,” she whispered, her voice small and shaky.
“Yeah… yeah, okay,” Katsuki murmured, wrapping his arms more securely around her. He pressed a kiss to her temple, breathing her in. His sweat-damp uniform clung to him, and the faint scent of fake blood lingered, but she didn’t seem to care. She just held onto him like he was her lifeline.
He felt like the biggest asshole in the world.
“I’m sorry, Doll,” he rasped, his hand sliding into her hair, smoothing it down in slow strokes. “If I’d known it was you, I never would’ve scared you like that.”
“It’s okay,” she mumbled against him. “I’m okay now.”
But he wasn’t. The memory of her crumpled on the floor, shaking and crying, was burned into his mind — her broken sob, her trembling voice calling his name. He wasn’t sure he’d ever shake the image.
Her being scared of him is something he never wanted to see or experience again. That shit made him feel like fucking scum.
When she finally loosened her grip, Katsuki reluctantly pulled back to look at her — and immediately frowned. Her makeup was ruined, mascara streaking down her flushed cheeks. She’d dressed up too, wearing that pink frilly dress he’d bought her last week — the one with delicate black lace and little bows that made her look so damn sweet.
Fuck… she even dressed up for me…
“Let me make it up to you,” he said hoarsely, desperate to erase the tear-streaked face staring up at him.
“I’m really okay, Katsuki,” she insisted with a small smile, sniffling as she rubbed at her eyes.
He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes.
“Just be a good girl and accept my apology.”
Her cheeks flushed pink at that, and she squirmed under his gaze. “I... okay. I accept your apology.”
“Good,” he smirked. Before she could react, he hooked his arms around her waist and lifted her clean off the floor.
“Katsuki!” she yelped, clinging to his shoulders as he effortlessly carried her through the maze. Her arms curled tightly around his neck again, and he couldn’t help but grin as she buried her face into the crook of his neck.
“You scared?” he murmured, squeezing her thighs in his palms.
“No,” she mumbled against his skin, voice softer now. “You holding me makes me feel safe.”
“Good,” he purred, tilting his head just enough to murmur the word into her ear. She squirmed at the warmth of his breath, her fingers gripping the collar of his shirt a little tighter.
Katsuki chuckled lowly, his chest rumbling against her. He carried her past a series of slamming doors, sharp screams, and the revving of a chainsaw. None of it fazed him, not when he had her tucked so close.
When they reached the final room—a coffin-filled space, fog crawling across the floor—Katsuki spotted Kirishima lurking in the corner. His friend’s crimson hair poked out from beneath a skull mask as he prepared to leap out at the next group. Katsuki shot him a pointed look and jerked his head toward the exit.
“Dude,” Kirishima whispered through his mask, voice muffled. “You’re just gonna carry her out like that?”
“Go.” Katsuki growled.
Kirishima snorted but backed off, letting Katsuki pass through the foggy room and step out into the cool night air.
Rosie clung to him for a moment longer before finally loosening her grip. He set her down carefully, reluctant to let her go. She kept her hands curled in his shirt, looking up at him with those wide, trusting eyes. “You’re all mine after work, right?” she asked quietly.
Katsuki grinned, cupping her face between his hands. “I’m always yours,” he murmured before leaning down to kiss her. Her lips were soft and warm against his, still slightly swollen from crying. He kissed her slow, savoring the way she melted into him.
When he pulled back, he kept his grip firm on her chin. “I want you to come back here in two hours,” he rasped. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Her brows knit together, confusion flickering in her eyes. “A surprise?”
“Yeah,” he smirked. “Now go clean your face and get something to drink.” His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, watching her cheeks flush a delicious red as she stared up at him.
“O-okay,” she stammered.
“Now,” he barked, his voice dropping into something lower, rougher.
Her breath hitched, and she nodded quickly, turning on her heel and heading off with hurried steps. Katsuki watched her go, the frilly hem of her dress swaying with each step.
Damn it… She was so fucking cute.
He slid his mask back into place, rolling his shoulders before stepping back inside the maze.
Two more hours… He smirked behind the mask. Then she’s all mine.
Notes:
IM SO SORRY FOR THIS BEING SUPER LATE!! I went shopping with my boyfriend today and then we went out to eat and then played video games and I just completely forgot! I’m so sorry!
Chapter 57: Now be a good girl for me and let me hear those pretty little noises you make.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie sat on a wooden bench just outside the busy horror escape room, her legs swinging lazily back and forth as she sipped her berry berry smoothie. The sweet flavor lingered on her tongue, but her mind kept drifting—back to Katsuki, back to what happened inside. She glanced down at her phone. 1:54 AM. Almost closing time.
She sighed, her gaze flicking back to the groups of people spilling out of the building. Some staggered out laughing, others clung to their friends with wide eyes and shaky hands, still spooked from whatever horrors they had faced inside. Rosie smiled a little, watching a girl playfully slap her boyfriend’s arm after he teased her about screaming like a banshee.
I should’ve texted him, Rosie thought, her smile fading. She knew Katsuki was probably still kicking himself for scaring her earlier. I just wanted to surprise him for once…
He is always surprising her. Little things—like bringing her flowers, bringing her food after her shifts, keeping her favorite ice cream stocked, a new hair clip he swore he “just grabbed” but she knew he actually picked because it matched her favorite sweater, or the times he'd tug her close on the couch, burying his face in her hair after a rough mission without saying a word. She loved those moments, and she’d wanted to give him one of his own.
Her fingers toyed with the frilly hem of her dress, tugging lightly at the black lace trim. She knew Katsuki liked this one—he couldn’t keep his eyes off her when she first tried it on. But underneath it... Rosie’s face burned as she remembered.
The set...The soft pink and black lingerie she’d picked out just for him. The delicate lace hugged her in all the right places, and the satin ribbons added a playful touch. She’d even chosen tonight to show him her new tattoo, now that it was healed—the tattoo of the three small butterflies inked on her hip. She’d been nervous to show him at first, but now... she couldn’t wait.
Her stomach twisted with a mix of nerves and excitement. Would he like it? Would he—
Her phone buzzed. Rosie blinked down at the screen.
Pomchi💖: Everyone’s leaving now. Come inside.
Her heart jumped. She sucked down the last of her smoothie, tossing the empty cup in the trash before grabbing her purse. She smoothed out her dress and took a deep breath, her fingers briefly brushing against the edge of her lacy panties and the matching garter she wore underneath.
Akira had helped her pick out the lingerie set—along with a couple of others over FaceTime. Rosie wasn’t expecting things to escalate that far tonight, but Katsuki had seen her half-naked plenty of times by now. Besides, the delicate lace and soft satin made her feel more confident, more daring—like she could be sexy in a way that didn’t feel forced. Knowing she was wearing it beneath her dress gave her a secret thrill, especially when she thought about the way Katsuki’s gaze always lingered when she wore something he liked.
But what does he have planned? she wondered as she entered the building, the warm air inside brushing against her bare shoulders. The lobby was dim now, the crowds gone, and the faint scent of fake fog and old wood filled the air. Her heels clicked softly against the floor as she shifted on her feet, nerves fluttering in her stomach.
Suddenly, she spotted him—still clad in that bloodied mask and dark, sweat-stained costume from earlier. The red stains on his shirt caught the glow of the emergency lights, and the fake knife hung lazily from his fingers like a threat.
“You’re still in that?” Rosie asked, forcing a nervous laugh. “What’s the surprise?”
Katsuki didn’t answer right away. Instead, he walked to the entrance behind her, flipping the sign over to CLOSED and sliding the deadbolt into place with a heavy clunk.
Her pulse jumped.
“Wasn’t this a fantasy of yours?” he drawled, voice low and rough as he turned back to her. The mask covered most of his face, but she could still see the sharp gleam of his crimson eyes. “To get chased by a man in a mask… wielding a knife?”
Rosie swallowed hard, her breath catching in her throat. The heat in her cheeks spread down her neck as her pulse pounded in her ears.
“I… maybe…” she stammered, shifting on her feet.
He stepped closer, his fingers catching her chin and tilting her face up to his. The cold, fake blood on his gloves smeared lightly against her skin.
“You’re gonna run,” Katsuki murmured, his smirk widening behind the mask. “And I’m gonna find you. And when I do...” His lips brushed her ear, his teeth grazing the shell of it. “You’ll be screaming my name.”
“Katsuki…” Rosie whimpered, her voice soft and shaky.
“You’ve got a thirty-second head start,” he warned, his voice dropping lower—deeper.
She blinked up at him in disbelief, realizing too late that he was serious. His fingers slipped from her chin, and he stepped back, stalking toward the nearest wall where he flicked the switch, plunging the building into darkness. Panic and excitement flared hot in her chest.
Shit.
She bolted.
The first room was a maze of overturned furniture and broken tables, fake cobwebs draped from the ceiling. Rosie barely registered any of it as she ducked low and hurried through the narrow path, her heart racing. She stumbled through a doorway into another room—one designed like a decrepit living room with a tattered couch and flickering TV in the corner.
Where do I go? she thought frantically, glancing around for a good hiding spot.
The low, deliberate scrape of metal against the wall made her freeze.
He’s close.
She darted toward a side room, pressing her back against the wall. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her chest heaving. Another sharp scrape. Louder this time. Closer.
“Katsuki…?” she whispered, barely audible.
The room was silent—too silent—until she heard it. A low chuckle. Dark and amused. “I can hear you, Doll,” his voice rasped from somewhere in the shadows. “You’re not very good at this.”
Rosie’s breath hitched. She bolted again, ducking through another doorway and stumbling into a room filled with mannequins—all positioned like frozen dinner guests around a long table smeared with fake blood. She squeezed herself behind one of the taller figures, pressing a hand to her mouth to quiet her breathing.
Footsteps. Slow. Heavy. Getting closer.
The mannequins shifted slightly as someone brushed past them. “Where are you hiding, baby?” Katsuki’s voice sang, teasing. He was dragging the knife again, the high-pitched scrape of metal sending chills racing down her spine.
She held her breath.
Through the narrow gap between the mannequins, she caught a glimpse of him—his dark silhouette illuminated by the flickering red light. The mask, the blood-streaked clothes, the way he moved like a predator—slow, deliberate, knowing exactly how to keep her trembling in place.
Don’t move... don’t breathe...
Then, just as she thought he’d passed her hiding spot—“You always smelled so damn sweet when you’re scared,” Katsuki growled directly behind her.
Rosie shrieked as he grabbed her wrist, yanking her out from behind the mannequin and pinning her against the wall.
“You didn’t make it very far,” he teased, his gloved fingers curling possessively around her waist as he dragged her flush against him. His mask brushed against her cheek as he leaned in close. “Told you I’d find you.”
Rosie’s breath hitched. “Katsuki…” she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper, her legs trembling beneath her.
But his grip wasn’t as tight as she expected. She twisted her wrist, slipping free before bolting into the next room.
He let me go... she realized. He wants me to run.
The realization sent a rush of excitement down her spine. Katsuki was always good at playing the villain—too good. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she ducked into the next room, a twisted imitation of a haunted study. The scent of old books clung to the air, and dust coated the wooden desk she crawled beneath. Swallowing hard, she pressed her hands over her mouth, forcing herself to stay quiet as she heard the heavy thud of his boots approaching.
“Doll...” Katsuki's voice was low and gravelly, the rough edge scraping down her spine like a match struck against stone. He dragged the knife along the wall, the metallic scrape sending chills racing down her arms.
"Come on now..." he drawled. "You know I’m gonna find you."
His footsteps slowed, circling the room. Rosie barely dared to breathe as the sound moved away, then stopped altogether. A moment of silence stretched thin... too thin. The creak of a door opening sent a wave of relief washing over her. He was leaving. She barely exhaled before a large, gloved hand shot beneath the desk, clamping around her ankle.
“Gotcha,” Katsuki growled.
Rosie shrieked as he yanked her out, her back scraping against the hardwood floor. In seconds, she was sprawled at his feet, her chest rising and falling in rapid bursts. Katsuki loomed over her, the crimson glow of the LED lights bathing him in hellish red. The mask, still stained with fake blood, made him look feral, dangerous. His knife gleamed in the dim light, catching her gaze as he knelt down beside her.
Rosie scrambled back on her hands, half-heartedly playing along, but anticipation hummed in her veins. Katsuki knew exactly what he was doing, and that thrill—the chase, the tension—made her head spin.
He moved fast. The cold press of the knife's tip found her chin, angling her face up to his. “Caught you, babydoll,” he murmured, his smirk sharp behind the mask. “Be good for me... and I’ll make you feel real good.”
Rosie barely nodded before Katsuki grabbed her waist and hauled her up, lifting her like she weighed nothing. Her breath hitched again as he set her on the old wooden desk, stepping between her legs as the knife scraped down the column of her throat.
“What a gorgeous thing you are,” he purred, dragging the flat side of the blade down her skin, slow and deliberate. The chill of the metal mixed with the heat curling low in her stomach, and she bit her lip to stifle the sound threatening to escape. “Oh?” Katsuki chuckled darkly. He dragged the blade up her neck again, slower this time.
A breathy whimper escaped before she could stop it.
“You like that?” he taunted. The knife lingered just below her jaw.
“Y-yeah...” she choked out.
“Yeah?” He clicked his tongue. “Use your words, doll.”
“Y-yes,” she stammered. “I like it.”
His smirk deepened. The knife moved away, only for his gloved hand to curl around her thigh, spreading her legs wider as he stepped closer.
The warmth of his body made her shiver. “You like when I do this to you?” he rasped, his lips barely grazing her ear.
“Y-yes, sir...” The words spilled out before she could stop them, and Rosie swore her face was on fire.
Katsuki went still for a moment, then let out a low growl, deep and pleased. “I like when you call me that,” he murmured, his voice like gravel.
His grip on her thigh tightened as the knife returned to her throat, this time resting right over her pulse point. Rosie swallowed hard beneath the blade, her heart hammering wildly. The sharp point barely pressed into her skin—just enough to make her breath hitch.
“You wanted this,” Katsuki said, his voice low and smug. Rosie could barely breathe. He raised his mask just enough to reveal his mouth and nose, smirking arrogantly. “Didn’t you?” His lips found her jaw, kissing a hot path down her neck before scraping his teeth against her pulse.
“Yes, sir” she gasped, her hands curling into the fabric of his shirt.
“You’re mine,” he growled.
“I’m yours,” she whispered.
“Good girl,” he purred before slamming his lips against hers.
The kiss was fierce, almost desperate. Rosie clung to him, her fingers twisting in his shirt as she leaned into him. His tongue swept against her lower lip, and she moaned softly, opening her mouth for him. Katsuki took full control, devouring her as his free hand tangled in her hair, tugging just hard enough to make her gasp.
She couldn’t get enough of him. The heat of his body, the rough scrape of his stubble, the taste of him flooding her senses—it wasn’t enough. Rosie whimpered, squirming closer, desperate to feel more.
“Needy little thing,” Katsuki growled against her lips. He kissed her again, harder this time, his hand sliding down her waist to squeeze her hip.
Rosie let out a soft, pleading sound, her nails digging into his chest.
“That’s it,” he murmured against her lips. “Whine for me, baby.”
And she did—breathless and desperate as he kissed her like he never planned on stopping.
But he did stop, just enough to set the knife down onto the desk and he stepped away to look at her, yanking the mask off and tossing it onto the floor. Rosie swallowed as he stared at her, arms crossed as he slowly drank her in like a man starved. Rosie’s heart pounded so hard she swore he could hear it. The room felt smaller now, the shadows pressing in as Katsuki stood before her, arms crossed, eyes burning into her like a wildfire.
“Remember the word, doll?” he asked, voice low and firm.
She swallowed hard, her mouth dry. “Strawberry.”
“Good girl,” he praised, but there was no warmth in his tone—just sharp intent, like he was holding something back. “Say it the second you need to.”
Rosie barely nodded before his eyes dragged down her body.
“Get down from the desk,” he ordered. “And strip.”
Her fingers trembled as she reached for the zipper at her back, dragging it down until the fabric pooled at her feet. The air kissed her bare skin, and she stood there in her delicate lingerie, the blush pink lace barely covering her. The matching garter hugged her thighs, ribbons trailing down to her stockings.
“Twirl,” Katsuki said, his voice tight like he was fighting something inside himself.
Rosie obeyed, her cheeks burning as she turned slowly. Every step felt like she was on a stage, her nerves twisting and knotting in her stomach. When she faced him again, his eyes were darker, his chest rising and falling like he was trying to breathe her in.
“Back on the desk,” he muttered, and she barely had time to sit before he grabbed her thighs and spread them wide. Rosie gasped, instinctively trying to close them again, but his grip tightened. “Keep 'em open, doll,” he growled.
His hand moved to the knife on the desk, fingers curling around the handle. The cold edge kissed her thigh, dragging slowly upward, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Rosie whimpered, not from fear—but from something much deeper that made her pulse race.
“You like this,” Katsuki murmured, more a statement than a question.
“Y-yeah,” Rosie stammered.
“Use your words.”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered before she could think better of it.
He froze for a second, his grip on her thigh tightening. Then he smirked, sharp and satisfied. “I like when you say that,” he muttered, tossing the knife aside.
Before she could process what was happening, Katsuki dropped to his knees in front of her. His hands grasped her thighs again, fingers digging in as he leaned in and kissed her skin—hot, demanding kisses that trailed up the inside of her right thigh. Each press of his lips left her skin burning.
“You wanted this,” he murmured between kisses.
Rosie whimpered, her fingers curling into the desk.
“Say it,” Katsuki demanded, his teeth scraping lightly over her skin.
“I wanted this,” Rosie gasped.
His hand slid down to her calf, hooking her leg over his shoulder to hold her in place. His mouth moved to her other thigh, nipping at the garter with his teeth before he bit down just hard enough to make her cry out.
“That’s it,” he growled, voice low and rough.
Rosie’s breath hitched, her head spinning. She was completely at his mercy, and she knew it. But as Katsuki looked up at her with that wild, hungry gaze, she realized she wanted nothing more than to be his.
“Please don’t tease me,” she whimpered.
He stared up at her, his eyes glowing in the crimson light, his hands on her thighs pressed into her plush thighs leaving bruises in their wake.
“Who’s in charge here?”
“You sir,” she swallowed.
He rubbed his nose against her inner thigh, “that’s right, fuck, you’re such a good girl.”
Rosie blinked down at him, her face flushing as he looked so beautiful between her legs. Swallowing, she parted her lips only for her to moan as he rubbed his nose against her panties.
“Fuck doll,” he rasped. “You’re soaking wet.” She let out a needy whine as he licked her through her panties. “So fucking gorgeous…did you wear this for me?”
“It was supposed to be a surprise…” she trailed off watching as he deliberately breathed against her soaked panties. “I wanted to show off my tattoo.”
His eyes lowered to where her tattoo sat on her hip, he clicked his tongue. “It suits you so well, pretty girl.”
“Katsuki, darling, please….” she begged as he continued to torture her by grazing her aching soaking pussy.
“I’ll give you what you want,” he clicked his tongue again, running a tongue over his teeth. “Only because it’s hard to resist just how gorgeous you look right now, so needy for me, begging for me.”
Dropping the knife somewhere, he grasped both sides of her panties, “up.”
Lifting off the desk, he slid them down quickly before he brought them to his face, smelling the cute lacy pair. “Fuck you smell so good,” then before she could respond, she watched him shove them into his pocket. She watched him bite the tip of his leather glove and yank it off before the glove dropped to the ground. Both his hands drabbed her hips and yanked her to the edge of the desk causing her to yelp in surprise.
“Katsu–” he interrupted her by plunging one finger into her pussy causing her to yelp in both surprise and pleasure.
“Fuck, how can you be so wet and so tight at the same time.” He grunted, his eyes blown as he stared at her soaking cunt. “Every inch of you is so pretty.”
“Please,” she panted. “I wanna…”
She felt embarrassment at what she wanted to ask for him, what she wanted him to give her.
“Be a good girl and ask for what you want.”
Rosie swallowed thickly, “please let me come.”
He growled, swearing under his breath. “So fucking perfect,” he groaned. Withdrawing his finger from her, he placed a gentle kiss onto her clit causing unintelligible whimpers to leave her mouth. One of her hands flew to his hair while the other gripped the edge of the desk, grounding her.
The way Katsuki touched her was so different when she touched herself. So different from her own fingers. His hands were larger, rougher, and experienced.He rubbed around her clit, applying just enough pressure to have her letting out throaty moans. It is perfect.
Biting back any other moans or whines, she yelped again when she felt pain in her thigh. Whipping her head down, she watched as Katsuki lapped at the spot affectionately where he had bit her. “What was that for?” She frowned.
“It’s just you and I in here,” he stated. “I want to hear you scream my name doll as I touch your needy, soaking little cunt. Now be a good girl for me and let me hear those pretty little noises you make.”
Rosie loved when he talked dirty to her. From the moment she saw him, she knew what kind of guy he was, blaming it on the romance novels she has been consuming since she was old enough to read her mom’s stash of romance novels she kept under her pillow.
However, something about him talking dirty to her made her feel more sexy, more desired. Even now as she sat there, legs spread wide open as he touched her, thrusted his fingers into her at a steady rhythm while his thumb circled her clit in a lazy confident manner. He continued to spout filthy things to her as he watched her cunt with hyper focus as it dripped onto the desk.
Everything about Katsuki is intoxicating, addicting, and pure sin. Digging her nails into the desk, she cried out just as he swiped his tongue over her clit, pushing her over the edge as her cunt gripped his two fingers. Back arching, her throat ached as she slowly came down from her high. “Katsuki…”
“What a good girl you are,” he rasped, his voice hoarse and gravelly as he rose to full height. “First one was free doll,” he placed a kiss to her forehead, “ask for it now.”
She let out a whine as he withdrew his fingers from her. “Please, Katsuki…I wanna come again.”
“Oh yeah?” He rasped, “why is that?”
“Because I love when you make me feel so good.”
He left a trail of kisses along her jaw, nipping at her flesh before soothing the sharp pains with languid strokes of his tongue. “You make it so hard for me to say no to you. But you know that already, don’t you?”
“Yes sir,” she tried to blink away the haze of her orgasm.
He buried his face into her hair as he cupped her pussy. Eyes rolling back as soft desperate moans tumbled off her lips, as the heel of his palm sat against her slit while he thrusted two fingers into her. He curled them causing her to let out a whine, so desperate and needy.
But she didn’t care to be quiet anymore. Why was she trying to be quiet again? Fuck, it was so hard for her to think when his fingers are buried in her cunt and thrusting and curling inside her like his life depended on it.
Black spots lined her vision as she could feel the buildup, her muscles contracted as waves of pleasure rolled through her over and over again. Her thighs shook as her lips dropped open to moan and whine as she felt herself growing closer to that dangerous edge and plunged into pure ecstasy. “Katsuki….” she whined, snapping her eyes open to see him staring down at her, eyes blown, his chest heaving.
“I know babydoll,” he rasped. “Can you be a good girl and come on my fingers? Can you do that for me?”
She eagerly nodded, as both her hands dug into his shoulders. “Y-yes sir!”
He hummed, “keep your eyes open and on me. I need to see you orgasm.”
Never did filthy words sound more beautiful to her as he continued to thrust his fingers into hers at an unholy rhythm. A scream tore past her lips as she felt him flick his wrist once more and her orgasm washed over her like a tidal wave. However he continued to thrust into her as she came down, her voice hoarse and scratchy as she continued to moan and whine. It isn’t until her cunt stops contracting around him does he withdraw from her.
She felt hot, sweaty, and spent as she watched him bring his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean. He maintained eye contact the entire time as he lapped at her arousal that coated his fingers,
The haze and foggy cloud of lust and her orgasm settled heavily over her exhausted and spent body, her limbs still weak as she leaned against Katsuki's strong frame. Her breathing slowed, and she felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her cheek. She let out a quiet sigh, barely able to keep her eyes open.
“Katsuki..." her voice came out in a soft croak, barely audible.
“Shh, I got you," he murmured, his hand stroking her hair soothingly. "Let’s get you dressed, yeah?"
Rosie barely managed a nod before he shifted away, only to return moments later with her dress in hand.
"Arms up," he instructed gently.
She obeyed, lifting her arms with what little strength she had left. Katsuki slid the fabric over her head and down her body, carefully tugging it into place. He moved behind her, his fingers brushing against her back as he zipped her dress up. His touch lingered for a moment before he let out a quiet breath.
“Try not to fall asleep while I clean up," he said, his tone warm yet teasing.
“No promises..." she murmured with a sleepy smile. Her head drooped slightly, but a soft chuckle escaped her as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"You did so good," Katsuki whispered, and Rosie’s heart swelled at the pride in his voice.
She felt him step away, faint sounds of him tidying the room filling the quiet space. Despite her best efforts to stay awake, her heavy eyelids fluttered shut. Only when she heard the faint scrape of the desk being wiped down did she blink herself back to awareness. "Alright, hop down for me," Katsuki said as he returned to her. His hands found her waist, steadying her as she slid off the desk. "Go sit in one of the chairs, okay?"
Rosie shuffled to the corner and eased herself into the nearest seat. She tucked her legs up beneath her and hugged her arms around herself, trying to fend off the early morning chill that seeped into her bones.
Katsuki finished cleaning in no time. When he returned, he held out his hoodie. "Here," he said, his voice soft. "Put this on."
Rosie didn’t hesitate. The hoodie smelled like him—smoky, warm, and familiar—and she sighed as she burrowed into the fabric. Katsuki didn’t give her time to protest before he scooped her up in his arms, cradling her securely against his chest. “Cold?" he asked, feeling her shiver slightly.
She nodded, nuzzling closer to him as the cold air bit at her exposed skin.
“I gotcha," he muttered, tucking her closer as he unlocked the building’s front door and stepped out into the early morning chill. Rosie barely registered the soft click of the lock before she buried her face against his neck, breathing him in.
“You’re warm,” she mumbled sleepily.
“Yeah, yeah," Katsuki snorted, adjusting her so she was tucked more securely against him. "You’re gonna fall asleep on me."
“Mm...maybe..."
He carried her to his car, opening the passenger door and gently lowering her into the seat. Before closing the door, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips—soft, slow, and lingering.
“Get some rest," he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "I’m taking you home."
Rosie could barely muster a reply before her eyes drifted closed, comforted by his warmth and the promise of home. She fell asleep to the car’s engine humming to life, his hand on her thigh as he rubbed circles into her skin. His voice was soft as he whispered little praises to her.
Notes:
Sorry this is late, I got distracted today and when I finally sat down to write this, I was agonizing on how to write this smut properly. I hope you enjoyed and please let me know your thoughts on this one<3
Chapter 58: His Rosie. His perfect, infuriating, gorgeous girl.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Come on Katsuki!” Rosie frowned as she tugged him toward the makeup store.
He chuckled, watching her as she pulled him toward the large makeup store. Why were they here?
She needed new makeup. Apparently all of hers had magically disappeared out of her bathroom so she needed to replace everything. His eyes roamed over her figure but most importantly he stared at her ass, more specifically how her black short pencil skirt stretched across that glorious ass of hers.
Once inside, she handed him a basket. “Please hold this for me,” she turned to give him a smile.
“Anything doll,” he muttered as she took his hand again and yanked him wherever
His focus went back to her ass. When she bent over to grab something but he didn’t give a damn, he was just grateful that her skirt was short enough to give him a peek of her black lacy panties she wore underneath.
He hadn’t planned on spending their Saturday morning at a makeup store, but this was definitely worth it. Especially after last night. Fuck, last night…
He could still see her crying as he made her orgasm, how she cried so prettily, so whiney, and so desperately as she called out his name. So eager to please and follow his every command.
Rosie dragged him deeper into the maze of brightly lit aisles, interrupting his lustful thoughts. He let her lead him without question, trailing behind her like a puppy desperate for attention.
Katsuki wasn’t really paying attention to the shelves of makeup—he was too busy watching her. The way her hair bounced with each step, the way she hummed softly under her breath as she debated between shades of lipstick. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, not like he would in the first place.
She bent forward to grab something off the bottom shelf, and he barely resisted the urge to groan. His face burned as memories rushed back—the way she'd trembled under his touch, how she had clung to him, breathless and desperate, his name falling off her lips as she stared up at him between wet lashes, makeup smearing down her face.
“Katsuki?” Rosie’s voice broke through his daze. He blinked, finding her standing in front of him, a small container of powder in her hand.
“Huh?”
“You okay?” Her smile turned teasing. “You look kinda... distracted.”
“I’m fine,” he grunted, shifting the basket in his hands. “Just... thinkin'.” About you. About how I’m completely wrapped around your finger. About how I’d do anything you asked, no questions.”
She only giggled and stood on her toes to kiss underneath his jaw and then took his hand again, pulling him to another aisle. Katsuki didn’t even care where they were going anymore. He just kept his eyes on her—his girl, his heart, his everything.
The store was crowded, other couples meandering through the aisles, but Katsuki barely noticed. He was too caught up in how Rosie would hold up two products, bite her lip in thought, and then glance back at him for his opinion. Like he had any clue what foundation or setting spray even was—but she kept asking, and he kept pretending to know, just because it made her smile.
He never thought he'd be the type of guy to follow his girlfriend around like some lost puppy, but here he was. And honestly? He didn’t mind one bit.
Because if this was what it meant to be with Rosie—to hold her basket, to follow her wherever she went, to be part of these silly little moments—then Katsuki would gladly do it every single day. Especially since the last several days were spent apart from her.
Twenty minutes later, the basket was growing heavier, and Katsuki was starting to question just how much makeup a person could need.
“Are you sure you need all of this?” he asked, shifting the basket to his other hand.
Rosie turned to him, unblinking. “Yeah.”
“You sure you didn’t leave it at Mina’s place?” he teased.
She shook her head. “No, I used my makeup right before I came to see you last night, and now it’s gone. No one has access to my apartment other than my dad and you, and neither of you would take my makeup bag. I don’t know where it could have gone.”
Katsuki snorted. “Maybe you’ve got a makeup thief.”
“I’m serious!” Rosie pouted, her bottom lip jutting out. “I need this stuff!”
“You need this much stuff?” He gestured to the overflowing basket.
“You’re a guy—you don’t understand.”
“Yeah, and I’m grateful to be a guy,” he shot back with a smirk.
Rosie huffed and marched up to the counter. Katsuki followed, watching as the cashier scanned her items. The total popped up on the screen, and Rosie reached for her wallet—but Katsuki was faster, slapping his card down before she could say a word.
“Katsuki!” she gasped. “That’s way too expensive!”
“Trust me,” he snorted, “it isn’t.” He grabbed his card the second the machine beeped and turned away, smirking as he walked toward the door.
“It’s still too much, though,” Rosie mumbled as she collected her large black-and-white striped makeup bag and hurried after him.
Once they were outside, Katsuki glanced at her, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Wanna make it up to me?”
Rosie blinked up at him. “Yes.”
He leaned down, his breath warm against her ear. “Model one of those costumes for me.”
Her face flushed instantly, her eyes going wide as she blinked rapidly. “Pomchi…”
“Come on,” he said, fighting back a laugh at her flustered expression. God, she was so cute when she was embarrassed. It made him want to tease her more, to push her until she couldn’t help but cling to him and hide her face against his chest. “Let’s get coffee.”
“You’ll just have to wait until tonight,” Rosie stated, recovering enough to shoot him a smug little smile. “The first Halloween party is tonight.”
Katsuki sighed, “I have to dress up, don’t I?”
“You didn’t get a costume?” she asked, her voice tilting into a disappointed pout.
“I’ve been working, doll,” he muttered, his tone softer as he glanced down at her. She stared up at him, her bottom lip sticking out just enough to make his chest ache. Her pout, her frown—it all hit him harder than he liked to admit.
“Then that is what we’ll do after we get coffee,” she declared, her stubborn streak peeking through.
Katsuki stared down at her, his adorable, impossible, infuriating girlfriend, and couldn’t resist. He grabbed her waist, pulled her close, and kissed her deeply. Rosie melted into him, whimpering when he bit her bottom lip. God, he loved how she responded to him, how eager she always was—like she was made just for him. His chest burned with something almost painful—possessive and fierce—because she was his. Only his.
He pulled back just enough to look into her wide eyes. “Whatever you want, doll.”
Why did his pretty girl have to be so kissable?
By the time afternoon rolled around, after stopping for coffee and picking up a costume for Katsuki, they swung by the grocery store. Rosie had insisted they grab snacks for their next D&D session before the party.
By the time they made it back to her apartment, his arms were full of grocery bags, and she was unlocking the door. As soon as they stepped inside, Rosie set her things down and turned to him with that same sweet smile that always knocked the air out of his lungs.
“Thanks for carrying everything,” she said, reaching to take some of the bags from him.
“Don’t,” Katsuki grunted, moving past her to set the bags on the counter. “I got it.”
Rosie giggled and kissed his cheek as she passed by to start unpacking. Katsuki watched her move around her kitchen like she belonged there—like she belonged with him. His heart squeezed tight in his chest. He didn’t know what the hell he’d done to deserve her, but he wasn’t about to let her go.
“Will you get everything ready for me?” Rosie asked, her eyes already sparkling with excitement.
Katsuki knew that look—she was itching to rip into her new makeup haul like a kid on Christmas morning. He didn’t get the appeal, but he figured it was some universal girl thing. Mina and the other girls were just as obsessed.
“Go, I’ll take care of everything,” he muttered.
Rosie grinned, kissing his cheek before practically skipping off to her room. Katsuki shook his head, setting down the bags from the grocery store.
The sound of tiny paws pattering across the floor caught his attention, and he glanced down to see Maya standing on her hind legs, paws moving up and down in a silent demand for attention. Katsuki stared at the cotton ball. “Just like your mother, you’re so needy.”
With a sigh, he scooped Maya up and tucked her under his arm like a football as he moved around the kitchen. He cracked open bags of chips, dumped pretzels into a bowl, and sliced some fruit. Every so often, Maya would wriggle and whine just enough for him to sneak her a little snack—some marshmallow here, a piece of fruit there. The little fluff ball wiggled happily with every treat.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered as he handed her another pretzel. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“No wonder she’s getting pudgy,” Rosie’s voice rang out from the doorway. Katsuki turned to see her smirking, arms crossed as she watched him.
“You spoil her with junk!”
“I do not,” Katsuki snorted, setting Maya down. The dog immediately trotted off to her bed in the living room, proudly clutching her pretzel in her tiny mouth like a prized bone.
“Yes, you do!” Rosie shot back, stepping closer. “You sneak her food all the time!”
“Like mother, like daughter,” Katsuki smirked. “You’re both spoiled, and nothing’s wrong with that.”
“Oh no, no,” Rosie shook her head, clearly not letting that one slide. “You’re the one spoiling us!”
“Yeah?” Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “Well maybe you just—”
The cold, wet splat of whipped cream on his face cut him off.
He blinked, completely stunned, as Rosie gasped dramatically, one hand over her mouth and the whipped cream canister clutched in the other.
“You did not just—”
“BYE!” Rosie squealed and bolted down the hallway.
“Oh, you’re dead,” Katsuki growled, wiping cream from his face. A wicked grin stretched across his face as he took off after her, footsteps thudding through the apartment.
Katsuki’s grin widened as Rosie's giggles echoed down the hall. "You’re not fast enough!" she shrieked between breaths.
"Oh yeah?" Katsuki barked back, his voice low and dangerous. "You better pray I don’t catch you!"
He rounded the corner just in time to see her dive into her room, slamming the door shut. For a second, he stood there, hand on his hip, smug.
She thought that flimsy little door could stop him? Cute.
With a burst of movement, he threw the door open. Rosie was halfway across the room, her chest heaving, her face flushed with laughter. "Katsuki, darling… let’s talk about this."
"What’s there to talk about, doll?" He smirked, stalking toward her like a predator closing in on prey. "You asked for this."
He lunged, and before she could even attempt to dodge, his arms were around her, lifting her off her feet. She yelped as he threw her down onto the bed, her surprised gasp turning into a squeal when he climbed on top of her. His fingers dug into her sides, merciless as he tickled her.
"No! Nooo! Katsuki—!" she gasped, writhing beneath him, her breathless giggles broken by desperate pleas. "Stop! I can’t—I can’t breathe!"
"Say you give up," he growled playfully, digging his fingers into her ribs again.
"I give up! I give up!" she blurted out instantly, her voice high-pitched and frantic.
"That's what I thought." Grinning smugly, Katsuki leaned down, catching her lips with his in a firm, victorious kiss. She melted into him, her arms snaking around his neck. God, he could get used to this.
But then—a sharp knock echoed from the front door.
"Could we just cancel?" Katsuki groaned, muttering against her lips. "We'll see them at the party anyway."
Rosie rolled her eyes. "No. Now get off me, or they’ll think something’s happening between us."
"Something is happening," Katsuki smirked, ignoring her attempt to wriggle free. He lowered his mouth to her jaw, nipping at the delicate skin just below her ear.
"Pomchi!" she squealed, half laughing, half scolding.
"Everyone refuses to let me be happy," he muttered dramatically, rolling off her with an exaggerated sigh.
Rosie snorted, brushing her hair back into place. "You’ll live."
With a wink, she slipped out of the room. Moments later, Katsuki heard the front door creak open and their friends’ familiar voices fill the apartment.
He groaned, running a hand down his face. "Yeah... I’ll live when I murder everyone.”
Katsuki drummed his fingers against the table, watching as Izuku laid out the map of the orphanage. The grid was meticulously drawn, tiny details scrawled in perfect handwriting across the parchment. Miniature figurines stood in neat rows beside dice, pencils, and piles of character sheets. It was a mess of organized chaos—one that Katsuki surprisingly didn’t mind as much as he once thought he would.
“All right, guys,” Izuku’s voice carried his usual excitement. “This is where you’ll infiltrate the orphanage. The cult has been using it as a front, and you need to find evidence of their activities—documents, hidden rooms, anything that exposes what they’re planning.”
Katsuki leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Yeah, yeah, we know the job. Let’s just get to it.”
Izuku gave him a patient smile. “I was getting to that.”
Rosie reached over and grabbed Katsuki’s hand beneath the table, giving it a small squeeze. He glanced at her and caught the way her smile twitched at the corners, the excitement dancing in her eyes. She always got so hyped for their sessions. He gave her hand a quick squeeze back before refocusing.
“Okay,” Izuku continued. “Katsuki, Rosie, since your characters have already been posing as merchants traveling through the region, this next part will require you to go undercover as—”
“—a married couple,” Rosie finished, grinning wide. “I knew it!”
Katsuki snorted, unable to resist a smirk. “Great. Guess I’m stuck with you.”
“You love it,” Rosie teased, winking.
Katsuki shook his head, but the warmth in his chest betrayed him. He grabbed his figure—one that looked like him dressed in all black with twin swords strapped to his back—and set it on the map near the orphanage gates. “Fine. What’s the plan?”
Izuku flipped through his notes. “You’ll need to convince the caretaker that you’re looking to adopt a child. Momo, Shoto, and Uraraka will pose as distant relatives staying in town. If things go sideways, they’ll create a distraction.”
“I’ve prepared a list of possible cult members,” Momo added, flipping open her binder. “Some of them are more involved in the leadership while others are just followers. If we can identify key players, it should make things easier.”
“Sounds easy enough,” Katsuki muttered, reaching for his dice.
“It won’t be,” Izuku warned. “There are traps set inside, and some of the orphans have been manipulated to spy for the cult.”
“Great,” Katsuki drawled. “Brainwashed kids. Love that.”
Rosie giggled. “Don’t worry, Pomchi. I’ll keep you safe.”
Katsuki gave her a pointed look, then rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.”
Soon they were playing, their characters walking through the creaky gates of the orphanage. The caretaker, a thin, gaunt woman with a sharp gaze, greeted them coldly. Katsuki played his role stiffly, mumbling about needing a strong, healthy child to ‘help with their business’ while Rosie charmed the caretaker with her sweet smile and smooth lies.
“I’d like to see their rooms,” Rosie said, her character’s hand resting delicately on Katsuki’s arm. “We just want to make sure the environment is... appropriate.”
“Roll for persuasion,” Izuku prompted.
Rosie picked up her dice and shook it between her palms, whispering, “Come on, come on…” The die clattered across the table.
“Nat 20!” Uraraka cheered.
Katsuki snorted. “Of course she rolled a crit.”
Izuku chuckled. “The caretaker’s expression softens, and she agrees to let you both walk through the orphanage.”
They moved their figures along the map, carefully investigating rooms as Momo and Shoto kept an eye on suspicious cult members in the courtyard.
“I want to check the caretaker’s office,” Katsuki said suddenly.
“That’s risky,” Shoto warned.
“That’s why I’m going,” Katsuki shot back. “Someone’s gotta get things done.”
Rosie grinned at him. “I’ll cover for you.”
“Of course you will, you’re my wife.”
As soon as those words left his mouth, they felt familiar, as though he had said them before. He frowned at that. When have I ever said that?
The game carried on, dice rolling, papers flipping. Katsuki’s heart thudded a little faster than he’d admit when Rosie’s character reached for his hand as part of their cover. Her fingers entwined with his like it was second nature, and damn it, he didn’t mind it one bit.
By the time the session ended, they had stolen key documents, exposed several cult members, and narrowly avoided a group of brainwashed children who tried to corner Shoto and Momo with the cult’s prized book being burned to ashes and scattered by Uraraka.
“Nice teamwork,” Izuku said, closing his binder.
“Yeah,” Katsuki muttered, glancing at Rosie. “Nice teamwork.”
Katsuki adjusted the straps of his twin swords, checking that they rested perfectly in an X on his back. His daggers were tucked securely along his thighs and chest, each one in easy reach. The tight black shirt clung to his torso, emphasizing the cut of his muscles, while his baggy black pants gave him freedom to move. He finished tying his boots, stretching his arms once to let the warmth of the room roll over his skin. His tattoos peeked out from his sleeveless top, twisting down his arm like coiling flames.
Everyone else had left already, heading off to get ready for the party. He was just waiting on Rosie now.
“Pomchi, darling,” her voice chimed sweetly.
He looked up—and nearly choked.
Rosie stood in the doorway, her soft blue corset glistening with crystals that clung to her curves like starlight. The strapless design hugged her waist, flaring out into delicate white bloomers trimmed in blue lace and dotted with tiny satin bows. Her stockings stretched over her thighs, their silky sheen leading down to silver heels that sparkled with every shift of her weight.
“I can’t decide on a lipstick shade,” she said, holding up two tubes.
He swallowed thickly, forcing himself to focus. "Doll, you might actually kill me."
She turned slowly, giving him a perfect view of her backside—the bloomers clinging her ass just right, teasing the curves that Katsuki's hands itched to grab.
“Do you like it?” she asked softly, biting her bottom lip.
“I love it,” he growled, closing the distance between them and tugging her against him. His fingers curled possessively around her waist, holding her tight against his chest. “Very tempted to keep you here."
Her cheeks flushed pink, her hands resting lightly on his chest. "Could always leave the party early... like last time."
“Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath.
She gave a smug little smile before holding up the two lipstick tubes. “Pink or red?”
“Pink,” he answered immediately. "Suits you best."
“Thanks, Pomchi.” She kissed his cheek and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving him standing there like some love-struck fool.
When she returned, her lips were painted pink and glossy with that sweet strawberry lip gloss she always wore. “I’m ready!” she chirped.
Momo's house was already packed by the time they arrived, the music pounding through the walls, the air thick with a mix of fog machines and the heavy scent of alcohol. Neon lights flashed above, and twisted Halloween decorations loomed in the corners—grinning skulls, glowing red eyes, and cobwebs thick enough to snare a person.
Katsuki kept Rosie’s hand in his as he guided her through the crowd, people brushing past them in elaborate costumes. Her delicate blue-and-silver mask glittered under the lights, a perfect match for her shimmering outfit. She was mesmerizing, and Katsuki couldn’t tear his eyes off her.
They finally reached the kitchen, where cauldrons of spiked punch bubbled with smoke. Katsuki poured two drinks, handing one to Rosie as she fiddled with her mask.
“You okay?” she asked, her soft smile returning when he downed his drink in one gulp.
“Just really want to enjoy myself before going back to work again,” he muttered. He refilled his drink and downed that one too before topping it off for a third.
“Will you dance with me later?” she asked sweetly.
He snorted. “Doll, anything involving putting my hands on you is an automatic yes.”
Her smile widened as she hooked her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her level. The strawberry gloss on her lips was intoxicating, mixing with the faint scent of spiked punch on her breath.
“Come find me later then?” she hummed.
“Kidnap you into one of these rooms? Hell yes.”
She giggled, her fingers curling in his hair as she pressed her lips to his. Katsuki kissed her back eagerly, one arm curling around her waist to draw her closer. The fog that filled the room gave them cover, and with the chaotic blur of costumed partygoers around them, no one was paying attention. Even if they were, Rosie's mask would keep her hidden.
His tongue slid against hers, the taste of strawberries lingering sweetly in his mouth. Her fingers clutched his shirt, dragging him in deeper, her breath hitching as he nipped at her bottom lip.
“Miss you,” she whispered against his mouth.
“Miss you more,” he growled, stealing another kiss. His fingers slid down her back, gripping her waist as if anchoring himself to her. It didn’t matter how loud the music was or how crowded the room had become—all he cared about was Rosie. His Rosie. His perfect, infuriating, gorgeous girl.
Katsuki leaned back in his chair, one arm slung lazily over the backrest as he nursed his drink. The glass was cool in his hand, condensation rolling down the sides as he idly swirled the amber liquid inside. The patio buzzed with low conversation and laughter, the air heavy with the scent of alcohol, grilled food, and faint traces of cigarette smoke.
He half-listened to Kaminari, who was rambling about some wild villain he’d dealt with earlier that week. “This one villain was crazy,” Kaminari was gesturing wildly, nearly knocking over his drink in his excitement.
Katsuki snorted and took a swig from his glass. “Yeah? Sounds like you barely survived,” he muttered, earning a round of chuckles from the guys.
But even as he played along, his gaze kept drifting across the yard. Rosie was with the girls on the opposite side of the pool, laughing with a drink in her hand. The red lights in the pool made the water look like a churning sea of blood, with people floating lazily through it, their drinks held high. But Katsuki didn’t give a damn about the party atmosphere—not when his girl was over there looking like a dream in that glittering blue outfit.
The soft blue of her corset clung to her, shimmering every time she shifted, and her skirt barely covered those smooth thighs he loved to run his hands over. Her matching mask framed her face perfectly, but her smile—her real smile—shone brighter than any damn costume. The way her head tipped back when she laughed, the way she touched her hair when she was feeling tipsy—all of it was driving him insane.
He dragged his eyes away and forced himself to focus on Kirishima, who was adding to Kaminari’s story. But he could still feel the tension coiling tight in his gut, an ache that settled low and stubborn. Every time Rosie shifted, every time she tucked her hair behind her ear or sipped from her glass with that soft pink shine on her lips, he felt it. That urge—the one that demanded he cross the yard, pull her into his lap, and slip his fingers under those soft frilly bloomers until she was makeup smearing, crying, whining and moaning in his ear.
He took another long drink, letting the burn scrape down his throat in a poor attempt to drown the thought. His grip on his glass tightened.
Katsuki sat back in his chair, beer bottle gripped loosely in his hand. The night air was cool against his skin, but the heat rolling through him had nothing to do with the weather. His eyes flicked across the patio again—straight to Rosie.
She was sitting with Mina and the other girls on the opposite side of the yard, drink in hand. Her hair caught the light as she laughed, throwing her head back in that way that made her neck look so goddamn inviting for him to sink his teeth into. Mina leaned in closer, whispering something that made them both burst into giggles, and Katsuki couldn’t stop the way his eyes dragged over Rosie’s legs, the curve of her thighs that had small bruises from last night.
“Bakugou, what’s up? You good?” Kirishima’s voice cut through the noise.
“Fine,” Katsuki grunted, tearing his eyes away and waving him off. He forced himself to smirk. “Just debating how many drinks it’ll take before Dunce Face falls in the pool.”
“Hey!” Kaminari squawked, nearly spilling his drink. “I’ve been pacing myself!”
“Yeah,” Sero chimed in. “That’s what you said last time, and we all remember how that ended.”
Laughter rolled through the group, but Katsuki’s gaze dragged back to Rosie. Her hand moved as she talked, fingers tracing invisible shapes in the air. She looked relaxed, happy—and too damn gorgeous for her own good. Or his.
Get a grip, he growled to himself. The last thing he needed was to drag her off somewhere and get handsy in public. But damn if she wasn’t making it hard to be good tonight.
He shifted in his seat, adjusting his pants as they suddenly felt too tight from his growing erection. His fingers flexed against the bottle in his hand, itching to grab her—just to feel the warmth of her skin, to drag her into his lap and claim her in front of everyone. She was his, after all. His stupidly beautiful, annoyingly perfect girl. Every inch of her belonged to him, and right now, all he could think about was making her cry his name on his fingers. But damn, did he really want to bury his hands between her legs and have her come on his tongue.
Katsuki groaned low under his breath and dragged a hand down his face. He needed a damn distraction.
“Let’s play a drinking game,” he barked, louder than necessary.
“Oh, hell yeah!” Kaminari perked up immediately, grinning like an idiot.
“I’m in,” Kirishima agreed, already grabbing a deck of cards off the patio table. “You’re going down, Bakugou.”
“Please,” Katsuki scoffed, grateful for something to focus on. “I’m carrying you home when you pass out.”
The next hour was a blur of drinks and laughter. They played round after round of ridiculous games—Kings, Ride the Bus, and something Kaminari invented that seemed to have no rules at all. Katsuki relaxed into it, tossing back shots, trash-talking the guys, and enjoying the burn of alcohol in his throat.
“I’m tellin’ you,” Sero slurred, pointing his beer bottle at Kirishima. “That villain you bagged last week? Weak as hell. I could’ve taken him in five minutes.”
“Bullshit!” Kirishima barked. “That guy was packing heat—literally! I’m still missing part of my sleeve thanks to him.”
Katsuki snorted. “That’s nothing. This one asshole I took down Monday? Thought he was clever, kept throwing knives with some weird magnet quirk. Didn’t stop me from breaking his nose on the third throw.”
“Oh yeah?” Kaminari leaned forward. “What about that dude you faced last week? The one with the fire whips?”
Katsuki grinned darkly. “Told him he couldn’t handle real flames.” He tapped his fingers together, tiny sparks dancing at his fingertips. “Proved my point.”
The guys laughed, knocking their drinks together, and for a while, Katsuki managed to forget how badly he wanted Rosie in his arms. But every time he glanced her way, her laughter ringing in his ears, that ache crawled right back up his spine, coiling tight in his chest.
And the worst part? He knew damn well she is oblivious to the effect she has on him.
Notes:
Read chapters 23-26 for the references for this chapter<3
Chapter 59: Like hell the fucking extra is going to win.
Chapter Text
Katsuki barely looked away for a minute, and just like that—Rosie was gone. His gaze snapped back to where she'd been only to find her spot empty. The laughter from Mina and the girls had faded too. His eyes swept across the yard, scanning the crowd. Nothing.
His grip on his beer bottle tightened.
"Man..." Izuku plopped down into the chair beside him, looking worn out.
"What's up, Midoriya?" Kirishima asked, frowning.
"Mineta was being a creep again," Izuku sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Shoji tied him up in the closet upstairs."
"Where are the girls?" Kaminari asked.
"Playing Seven Minutes in Heaven upstairs."
Katsuki nearly crushed his beer bottle in his fist. The sharp crack of glass made Kirishima jump. His breath was hot in his throat, anger buzzing in his head like static. "I’m getting a drink," Katsuki said darkly, setting the bottle down with a dangerous thud before pushing back his chair.
"I'll come too," Kirishima said quickly, standing to follow him.
Katsuki stormed inside, barely noticing the music thudding in his chest or the clusters of drunk partygoers he shoved past. The lights flashed too bright, the air smelled like alcohol and cheap fog machines, and all Katsuki could think about was Rosie—upstairs, playing some stupid game where anyone could end up shoved into a closet with her.
His jaw clenched painfully tight. Not happening.
He downed the rest of his beer and tossed the empty bottle on the counter before making a beeline for the stairs. Kirishima barely kept up, still trying to calm him down.
"Bro, relax," Kirishima said, laughing nervously. "I'm sure she's fine."
"Nobody's getting into a closet with my girl," Katsuki growled.
He hit the second floor like a storm, shoving aside couples pressed into corners and making his way down the dimly lit hallway. Neon lights glowed from behind half-open doors, casting eerie shadows across the fog-covered floor. Fake skeletons, cobwebs, and flickering jack-o'-lanterns were scattered everywhere—Momo had seriously gone all out with the decorations. But none of it slowed him down. He kicked open door after door, scanning each room.
"Dude, calm down!" Kirishima called from behind him. "You're scaring people!"
"Good," Katsuki snapped. He wasn’t stopping. Not until he knew Rosie was safe.
He flung open another door and stopped cold.
Mineta. Bound and gagged, squirming in the corner of a small coat closet. The guy was dressed as some cheap magician, ropes digging into his sleeves. His eyes went wide with tears as he spotted Katsuki, screaming something muffled behind the gag.
Katsuki barked out a laugh. "Dumbass," he muttered before slamming the door shut. Serves him right.
Finally, he reached the last door at the end of the hall. Laughter spilled out from inside—familiar voices.
Katsuki shoved the door open and froze.
The room was packed with people, all gathered in a loose circle on the floor. A wine bottle sat in the middle, catching the neon lights in its glassy surface. Rosie was there, sitting cross-legged beside Momo, drink in hand, smiling brightly as Mina said something that made her giggle. Her blue and silver mask rested on the top of her head, curls spilling down her shoulders.
Relief hit him like a slap. His fingers twitched at his sides, the anger easing, but not completely disappearing. His gaze drifted to the other side of the room where Shoto stood, arms crossed and stiff as a board. His icy glare locked onto Momo.
"Todoroki, you’re here too?" Katsuki asked, stepping into the room.
"Yeah," Shoto said flatly. "I had the sudden urge to play."
"Me too," Katsuki grunted, planting himself firmly in the circle.
Katsuki barely kept himself from grinding his teeth as he settled down across from Rosie. His gaze locked on her—that sweet smile, soft and warm enough to calm his storm. For a moment, just a moment, his irritation eased.
“You okay?” he asked, voice low, only for her to hear.
Her smile softened even more, bright enough to knock the air from his lungs. “I’m fine.”
"Good," he muttered, muscles finally loosening. He let himself lean back against the wall, forcing his scowl into something less murderous. No way in hell anyone was getting seven minutes alone with his pretty girl tonight.
“Do you know what this game is?” he asked, voice a little sharper than intended.
Rosie blinked, clearly tipsy and slow to catch on. “Yeah... Momo wanted to play, but not alone, so I agreed to join her.”
Katsuki just grunted.
The bottle began to spin, and Katsuki twirled one of his very real daggers in his hand—just enough to make the other guys in the circle flinch. His glare swept over every man in the room, daring one of them to look at Rosie for too long. He memorized faces, names, costumes. If any of these losers so much as breathed wrong in her direction, they’d regret it.
The bottle spun and landed on a girl dressed as Red Riding Hood. She was cute enough, sure—brown eyes wide as she blinked at him, her cheeks turning pink. But the moment she opened her mouth to giggle, Katsuki moved to push himself up. “No way.”
“You have to play by the rules,” Momo cut in firmly, shaking her head. “Or you won’t get to play at all.”
Katsuki growled low in his throat, his fingers curling tight around the hilt of his dagger. His knuckles stretched white, but begrudgingly, he stood up. Rosie’s wide eyes followed him, and her bottom lip wobbled just slightly before she sucked it in.
Fuck. She was about two seconds away from pouting herself into tears.
He clenched his teeth, sparing her one last glance.
I'll talk to her after, he promised himself, stepping into the cramped, dark closet with Red Riding Hood. The door clicked shut behind them.
The girl shifted awkwardly, wringing her hands. “Sooo...” she started, clearly waiting for him to make a move. She shifted closer, her perfume too sweet, cloying in the small space.
Katsuki didn’t bother hiding his disgust.
“Don’t even think about it,” he muttered darkly, stepping back until his shoulders bumped the wall.
She blinked up at him, confused. “What?”
“I have no interest in you whatsoever,” he said flatly.
God, everything about her was wrong. Her voice was too high, too airy—grating on his nerves. Her eyes weren’t the right shade, nowhere near Rosie's bright blue that practically glowed in the sunlight. Her hair didn’t fall right, too styled and stiff. Even the scent of her perfume was sharp and chemical, nothing like Rosie's soft floral scent that lingered on his pillows whenever she stayed over.
This girl could be naked right now, and Katsuki wouldn’t feel a damn thing.
His girl though? Just thinking about Rosie made heat coil low in his stomach, his frustration from earlier bubbling back up. She had looked so pretty pouting like that, her bottom lip trembling. He swore, the second this game ended, he was taking her somewhere private—and she wouldn’t get away from him until she knew exactly how obsessed he is with her.
“Look,” he grunted, still glaring down at Red Riding Hood. “We’re just gonna sit here until the time’s up, alright? Don’t even breathe in my direction.”
The girl gave an awkward laugh, scooting to the farthest corner she could. Good.
Katsuki just crossed his arms and counted the seconds until he could get the hell out of there and back to the only girl he gave a damn about.
The second the seven minutes were up, Katsuki yanked the door open himself, scowling at the crowd of curious faces waiting outside. The Red Riding Hood girl shuffled out quickly, her expression crestfallen.
Katsuki didn’t spare her another glance, stalking back to his place in the circle and dropping down hard on the floor. He reached for his drink, downing the rest in a few gulps. Rosie didn’t even look at him. She just grabbed another drink and sipped it quietly, her eyes fixed somewhere on the floor.
Damn it.
It took several more turns of the bottle before the game turned messy again. The bottle spun and landed on Momo—with some stranger Katsuki didn’t recognize. His eyes flicked to Shoto, who sat still as stone. Calm and collected on the outside, but Katsuki knew better. He spotted the tick in Icy Hot’s jaw, the slight clench of his fingers. Shoto was pissed.
Momo stood up gracefully, adjusting her skirt as she followed the guy into the closet. Katsuki watched as Shoto’s hand twitched toward his drink but then stopped. Yeah, this was a mess.
Seven long minutes dragged by—Rosie still wouldn’t look at him, her fingers nervously toying with her drink. When Momo finally stumbled out of the closet, her hair was mussed and her lips swollen. The guy was grinning like he’d won the lottery, and Momo’s smug smirk as she high-fived Rosie made Katsuki’s blood boil, not for himself but for Shoto, but he also knew that the Icy Hot bastard had five years to make a move, so his loss. Shoto looked like he was ready to burn the whole damn house down.
Then it was Rosie’s turn.
She grabbed the bottle and spun it, her eyes still carefully avoiding Katsuki’s. The bottle slowed... slowed... then stopped. On him.
Relief flooded his chest like a gust of air after drowning. He kept his face neutral as he stood, but his legs carried him to her faster than necessary. Rosie hesitated before rising to her feet, her fingers smoothing her skirt nervously.
The closet door closed behind them, and before Rosie could even turn around, Katsuki grabbed her by the waist and lifted her, pinning her against the wall.
"Katsuki!" she gasped, clutching his shoulders.
"Before you ask," he growled, voice low and rough, "I didn’t do anything with that girl."
Rosie’s breath hitched, her fingers curling into his shirt. "You mean that?"
"Yeah, I mean that," he rasped, lowering his head to bury his face in her hair. He dragged his teeth over her earlobe, drawing a shaky cry from her lips. "Don’t care about anyone else. Just you."
Rosie’s blush bloomed across her cheeks, her eyes wide and glassy. "Please... kiss me," she whispered, her voice barely louder than a breath.
"Please?" His mouth curved into a smug smile against her skin. "What a good girl you are…since you asked so nicely..."
His lips crushed against hers, desperate and demanding. Rosie melted against him immediately, her hands sliding up his neck and tangling in his hair. Katsuki kissed her like he was starving, like every second wasted was torture. He nipped at her bottom lip, swallowing the sweet little gasp she made in response.
"Missed you," she murmured between kisses, her fingers tightening in his hair.
"Missed you more," he growled. He kissed her harder, one hand sliding down her side to squeeze her hip before gripping her thigh and hiking it up against his waist.
Rosie whimpered, her nails digging into his skin. "Katsu..."
"Yeah, doll?" His voice was rough as gravel.
“Wanna dance after this.”
His heart stuttered in his chest. "Alright, we can dance," he muttered against her lips before diving back in, swallowing her smile whole.
By the time their seven minutes were up, Katsuki’s hair was a mess, Rosie’s lipstick was smudged, and her giggle was soft and breathless as she tried to fix his hair.
"Think they’ll notice?" she whispered.
"Don’t care," he muttered, kissing her once more before they stumbled back into the party, flushed and grinning like idiots.
Rosie and Momo high fived and he smirked in pride. Katsuki barely let go of Rosie’s hand as he led her back downstairs, weaving through the press of bodies crowded in the hallway. The music thumped louder with every step, vibrating through his ribs like a war drum. The living room was transformed—bathed in dark blue light that shimmered like moonlight over the fog rolling across the floor. Spiderwebs stretched from the ceiling to the walls, their eerie glow barely visible in the dim haze. Shadows danced across faces, distorted and masked, blurring identities.
Rosie’s fingers slipped from his hand as she turned to face him, her mask already back in place—delicate silver and blue, sparkling like frost over ice. The corners of her lips curled into a teasing smile as she pressed her hands to his shoulders, her body moving to the pounding bass. Her hips swayed, slow and deliberate, rolling in perfect rhythm with the music.
Katsuki’s throat went dry.
She looked sinful—the soft blue corset hugging her like a second skin, her thighs peeking out beneath those frilly bloomers that made his thoughts go dark. The fog curled around her ankles like mist on water, the sheen of sweat making her skin glow in the low light. Her gaze locked on his—half-lidded, hazy, and unmistakably inviting.
Fuck. Those eyes practically screamed fuck me.
Rosie dragged her hands from his shoulders down his chest, fingers tracing every muscle. Then she turned, her back flush against him, rolling her hips in perfect rhythm. His hands instinctively found her waist, fingers splaying wide over the delicate fabric. She tilted her head back against his shoulder, her breath warm against his neck.
"You're tryin' to kill me," he muttered into her hair.
She just giggled, rolling her hips slower, more deliberate. His fingers twitched, gripping her tighter as she moved—sweet, torturous friction that made his blood run hot. She twisted in his arms again, facing him now, dragging her hands back up to tangle in his hair. She rocked against him, eyes locked on his, her tongue flicking out to wet her bottom lip.
Katsuki swallowed hard, barely holding himself together. His fingers dug into her waist, his body coiling like a spring, tight and tense. She was playing with fire—and she knew it.
"Have your fun now, doll," he rasped low in her ear, his voice rougher than intended. "But you keep lookin' at me like that, and I’m takin' you upstairs before you can finish this song."
Rosie just smirked, her lips curving like she knew exactly what she was doing to him. She leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to his jaw before whispering, "Promise?"
Katsuki clenched his jaw, growling under his breath as she swayed against him again. Damn her.
Then he watched as a drunk Mina stumbled and grasped Rosie’s hand, yanking her away from him. “Need another for….game…” she panted
Rosie looked at him with wide eyes.
“Go,” he nodded. “But after the game come find me outside.”
She nodded.
The next time Katsuki saw his darling girlfriend was when it had been an hour later, she stumbled towards him in her heels with an equally drunk Mina. He stood around the outside bar with Kirishima, Shoto, Tokoyami and Sero all drinking.
Kirishima whistled as Mina stumbled into his arms, “hey babe.”
“Kiri!” She curled into his lap
“Pomchiiii…” Rosie leaned up against his side, “I’m hungry.”
He snorted, tapping her hip, “wanna leave and get food then?”
Please say yes.
“Noooo,” she wiggled away from him. “Mina is already ordering me food,” she grinned up at him.
“Then why the hell are you telling me you’re hungry?” He gruffly asked, wanting to tug her back against him.
“Why not?” She blinked at him
This caused his eye to twitch while all the others started to laugh. “Why you littl—”
“Hey guys! Nice costumes! So manly!” TetsuTetsu approached with his arm slung over his girlfriend, Kendo’s shoulders.
“Please, they could have done better,” Monoma rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.
“Hi Kendo!” Mina slurred as she stumbled to hug the girl
Rosie finished her drink and then walked towards Monoma, jabbing his chest with her finger. “I look amazing,” she rolled her eyes. “I could give you some pointers on how to improve your costume.”
“Oh yeah?” Katsuki didn’t miss the amusement in Monoma’s eyes as he stared down at Rosie. Nor did he miss how he grabbed Rosie’s chin, “why not give me a thorough explanation on how I could improve.”
“Fuck,” Sero swore. “That was smooth.”
“If he doesn’t back off, he’s going to end up dead.” Kirishima muttered back
Katsuki ignored his friends gossiping, instead he finished off his drink and tossed it behind him. Then stalked forward, he grasped Rosie’s hips, then pushed her behind him. “If I recall you hate all of Class 1-A.” Katsuki snorted, crossing his arms and glaring at Monoma
“She isn’t a part of your class,” Monoma smirked.
“She is Aizawa’s kid,” Katsuki snorted. “Makes her an honorary member.”
“Hell yeah!” Kirishima said from behind him. “One of us!”
Monoma ran a hand through his hair, “then I guess I can make an exception for such a beauty.”
“Like hell you are.” Katsuki growled
Monoma moved to say something but then his gaze drifted to behind him, then smirked. “She’s hot.”
Soon he heard catcalling and whistles all around with Mina and Kendo cheering. Katsuki slowly turned his head, only to see Rosie climbing onto the roof, arching her back and bent over, giving everyone an eyeful of his girlfriend’s ass as her bloomers rode up.
“Fucking hell,” Katsuki sighed. Stomping over to where she was at, Katsuki snorted. “Rosie, get down from there.”
She kept climbing, unable to hear him over the crowd. Katsuki clenched his jaw, the sharp crack of his teeth grinding together barely audible over the music. His fingers twitched at his sides, itching to drag Rosie down from that damn rooftop before she did something stupid. The cheers and whistles only made his blood boil hotter.
“Rosie,” he called firmly, storming closer. She was still grinning like an idiot, her cheeks flushed and eyes glassy.
“I wanna jump in the pool,” she announced, raising her arms like she was about to swan dive straight into the glowing red water below.
“Yeah? What about your food?” he barked, hoping to distract her.
“I’ll eat it after,” she pouted, turning away from him. Her heels wobbled dangerously against the shingles, and Katsuki’s stomach dropped.
“Rosie,” he growled, his voice low and sharp. “Get down. Now.”
“I’m fiiiiine,” she slurred, taking a step back—too far back.
“Shit,” he hissed the second her ankle twisted, sending her teetering backward. She let out a startled squeal as her arms flailed wildly in the air.
Katsuki moved before he could think. He was beneath her in an instant, arms outstretched just as her body tipped off the edge. Her breathless yelp barely had time to hit his ears before she crashed into his chest, sending both of them staggering back a step.
“Gotcha,” he muttered, relief washing through him—but it didn’t last. He set her down firmly on her feet and glared down at her. “What the hell were you thinking?”
Rosie blinked up at him, still a little dazed. “I was...I was just—"
“You could’ve broken your damn neck!” His voice rose, raw and sharp with frustration. He gripped her shoulders tightly, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Don’t you ever pull some stupid shit like that again, got it?”
“I’m sorry…” she mumbled, her lower lip trembling.
“Damn right you should be,” he grunted. But the way she looked at him—small and embarrassed and still a little tipsy—drained the rest of his anger. His hands softened on her arms. “Just...just stay with me, alright? No more rooftops.”
“Okay,” she whispered, sniffling softly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Tch,” Katsuki scoffed, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her against his side. “Like hell I was scared. Just didn’t want you ruining your pretty face, dumbass.”
Rosie giggled softly, burying her face in his shoulder. “You’re such a liar…”
Katsuki muttered a curse under his breath as Monoma leaned closer to Rosie, flashing her that smug grin like he had a shot in hell. He could hear him murmuring something to her— some lame joke, no doubt—and watched Rosie giggle softly as she began to unpack her takeout that must have finally arrived. The sight made Katsuki’s jaw clench so hard it ached.
Grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and a fresh beer for himself, he stormed back outside. His eyes locked onto Monoma still perched way too close to Rosie for his liking.
He slapped the water bottle into Rosie’s hand, his gaze flicking to her face. “Drink up.”
Rosie’s face lit up as she took the bottle eagerly. “Thanks, Pomchi!” she chirped before twisting the cap off and taking a sip. Just like that, the tension in his chest eased a little. She was okay—happy, even. Still, Monoma's smug smirk remained.
“Now go away, you damn extra,” Katsuki snapped, turning his glare on Monoma.
Monoma chuckled lowly. “I think I'm right where I want to be.” His eyes flicked to Rosie again, and Katsuki’s grip on his beer bottle tightened.
“Drinking competition,” Katsuki growled. “If I win, you stop flirting with her. If you win... then flirt all you want.”
Monoma hummed thoughtfully, swirling the liquor in his glass. “Why not? I’d love to beat you.”
The challenge drew attention fast. People gathered in a loose circle around them, excited whispers spreading. Kirishima clapped Katsuki’s shoulder, grinning like an idiot. “Dude, you’ve got this.”
Momo suddenly reappeared from inside the house, her hair slightly disheveled and faint hickies scattered along her neck. Shoto followed a few steps behind, looking thoroughly satisfied and fixing his shirt cuffs like he’d just sealed a business deal. He stepped in silently, grabbing a bottle of vodka and shot glasses from the bar.
“I’ll pour,” Shoto said coolly, leveling Monoma with a look that was barely short of murderous.
“Great,” Katsuki grunted, sliding into a stool and cracking his neck. Monoma mirrored him, still smirking like this was some dumb game he had any chance of winning.
“Rosie,” Katsuki muttered, glancing her way just before the first round was poured. She was happily munching away on her burger. She shot him a smile—a bright, slightly tipsy smile that hit him like a punch to the gut. Damn it. Even now, she was cute.
“Don’t lose,” she teased, covering her mouth that was full of food.
“Like hell I will,” Katsuki muttered, turning back to face Monoma.
The first shot was poured, and Shoto slid the glasses in front of them. “The person who drinks the most wins. On three,” he said evenly.
“One...two...three.”
Katsuki slammed the shot back like it was water. The burn in his throat barely registered. Monoma did the same, grinning wide as he slammed his glass down just a second too late. The crowd cheered, and Katsuki felt his confidence spike.
Shot after shot was poured, the vodka hitting harder with every round. Katsuki’s vision blurred slightly, but he kept his focus sharp—every so often glancing over to see Rosie still sitting comfortably, swinging her legs under her stool and polishing off her food. Every time their eyes met, she’d smile—lazy, warm, and sweet. It was enough to keep him going, enough to drown out the alcohol in his system.
Monoma’s smile started to waver after round six. By round eight, his eyes were glassy, his head drooping slightly. Katsuki wiped his mouth on his sleeve and grinned through the haze clouding his mind.
“Ready to give up yet, extra?” he rasped.
Monoma groaned, barely keeping himself upright. “Not...a chance.”
“Dude’s about to pass out,” Kirishima chuckled from the sidelines.
“Keep going?” Shoto asked flatly, pouring two more shots.
Monoma clenched his jaw, “hell yes.”
Katsuki stared Monoma down as he grabbed his glass, his grin widening. He was already dead in the water.
Like hell the fucking extra is going to win.
Notes:
I can't wait for tomorrow's chapter haha, because I know what happens and you might both hate or love me for it...who knows? haha<3 oh and please go follow me on Tumblr, I've been more active on there as of late!
Chapter 60: I love you, Sunshine.
Notes:
I will edit this later because it’s a bitch to edit on the phone
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie watched as her boyfriend downed shot after shot in the competition against Monoma, however, she could tell the shots were getting to Katsuki as his gaze became hazy and his movements sluggish. Finishing her burger, Rosie watched as Monoma went to take his next shot, only to fall flat against the bar with a loud thud. Katsuki finished his shot and Monoma’s with a cocky smirk. The crowd that had gathered cheered as Katsuki threw both fists into the air, celebrating his win.
Rosie wiped her fingers on a napkin, biting back a smile as she watched her boyfriend wobble through his victory lap, arms in the air like he'd just won a championship belt. The crowd clapped him on the back, cheering and laughing, while Monoma remained facedown on the bar, barely twitching. Serves him right for trying to outdo her boyfriend.
“Yeah!” Katsuki bellowed, voice rough and triumphant. “I’m the fucking best!” He stumbled, nearly taking out a barstool. “You fucking extra, challenge me again!” He jabbed a finger in Monoma’s general direction—or at least what he thought was Monoma’s direction. It was actually just a potted plant.
Rosie snorted, shaking her head. Oh no… he’s gonna be a mess.
Sure enough, Katsuki staggered toward her, laser-focused on the half-eaten fries still on her plate. Before she could react, he swooped down and chomped one right out of her hand.
“Hey!” she pouted, pulling her hand back.
“Mine,” he declared proudly, mouth still half-full.
Rosie giggled behind her fingers. His eyes were glassy, his hair messier than usual, and he was swaying like a ship in a storm—but he still somehow managed to look stupidly handsome.
“Oh no,” she gasped in mock horror, “my terrifying hero boyfriend’s a fry thief.”
“Damn right,” Katsuki slurred, snatching another fry. “I win. I get fries.” He shot her a smug look—which didn’t last long because he stumbled again, nearly toppling straight into her lap.
“Whoa, easy there,” Rosie laughed, grabbing his arm to steady him.
Instead of standing up, Katsuki leaned into her, resting his head against her shoulder like a big, grumpy cat. “You smell nice,” he mumbled.
“I smell like fries,” she teased.
“Yeah,” he hummed, like that was the greatest thing in the world. His hand reached blindly for her takeout box, fumbling until he snatched another fry. “These’re mine now too,” he muttered.
“Pomchi…” Rosie tried to sound stern, but her giggles ruined it.
Katsuki sat up just long enough to jab a victorious finger in her face. “You can’t stop me,” he declared, stuffing another fry into his mouth. “I’m unstoppable.”
“You’re something alright,” she muttered.
Then, as if summoned by pure chaos, Katsuki’s gaze locked onto a large decorative spider hanging from the ceiling. “I’m gonna fight that,” he announced.
“No!” Rosie squeaked, but it was too late.
He lunged.
The plastic spider came down in a flurry of webbing, streamers, and — somehow—a string of blinking Halloween lights. Katsuki emerged from the chaos, victorious plastic spider held high like a trophy.
“Winner!” he yelled.
“You’re a mess,” Rosie sighed, but she couldn’t stop laughing.
Katsuki just grinned wide, still tangled in Halloween lights. “Still your mess though.”
Rosie had never seen Katsuki this drunk before. It was usually her stumbling around while he rolled his eyes and kept her steady. But tonight? Tonight, her tough-as-nails boyfriend was a wobbly, chaotic mess, scarfing down the rest of her fries like a gremlin and downing her water as if it were the key to victory.
Kirishima appeared beside her, eyebrows raised. “Man, is he okay?”
Rosie shrugged, watching Katsuki demolish her fries. “No idea.”
Before she could react, Katsuki grabbed her face and kissed her fiercely. The taste of vodka and salty fries hit her hard, and she moaned into his mouth, clutching his jacket as his hands slid down her waist, gripping her thighs and pulling her flush against him. His tongue swept past her lips, hot and demanding, and Rosie gasped, curling her fingers into his hair. She didn’t care that they were in the middle of the party—not when he was devouring her like this.
“Oi!” Kirishima barked, yanking Katsuki off her like an overzealous bouncer. “Yo man, relationship’s a secret, yeah?”
Katsuki scowled at him, still panting. “Paws off my girl! Don’t care if you’re my best friend.”
Rosie giggled, stepping back and smoothing her dress. “He’s right, Pomchi.”
Katsuki just crossed his arms, lower lip jutted out in a sulky pout like a five-year-old. Then Kaminari came barreling in from the hallway, grinning like an idiot. “Yo, Bakubro! We need another player! Come on!”
She should've stopped him, but honestly? Drunk Katsuki was adorable.
“You’re just gonna let him go?” Kirishima asked, incredulous.
“What’s the worst that can happen?” Rosie shrugged with a smile.
Famous last words.
Rosie stood slack-jawed in the game room doorway, watching her boyfriend absolutely destroy the dance floor. Katsuki was dancing—no, thrashing—next to Kaminari, beer bottle still in hand, swinging his arms wildly like he was trying to punch the air into submission. The dim lighting barely masked the way his shirt clung to his chest, his hair a wild mess, his face flushed deep red. The only real light came from the massive flat-screen where a pop song blared at full volume.
“He’s gonna murder everyone when he remembers this tomorrow,” Kirishima whistled beside her.
“He’s too drunk to remember his own name,” Rosie snorted, covering her mouth as Katsuki attempted a spin—only to nearly take Kaminari out with a flailing arm. “I didn’t think Kaminari would be stupid enough to give him more to drink.”
“Of course he would,” Kirishima said dryly.
When the song ended, Rosie marched over and plucked the bottle out of Katsuki’s hand.
“Oi!” he slurred. “I was drinkin’ that.”
“Yeah, and now I am,” Rosie shot back before downing the rest. The bitter aftertaste made her grimace. Grabbing his wrist, she dragged him out of the room.
“Where’re we goin’?” Katsuki mumbled as she tugged him upstairs.
“Getting you out of trouble,” she muttered, finding one of Momo’s spare bedrooms. She kicked the door shut and locked it behind them.
“Now strip,” she ordered.
Katsuki squinted at her. “I have a girlfriend.”
Rosie blinked. “You don’t recognize me?”
“I have a girlfriend,” he insisted, pointing an unsteady finger at her like she was some suspicious villain. “She will kick your ass and mine if she walks in.”Then, in a brilliant attempt to defend his honor, he stumbled back a few steps and nearly faceplanted into the wall.
“It’s me, Pomchi,” she snorted, grabbing the blades strapped to his back before he could hurt himself.
“You can’t fool me,” he slurred, pulling away. "I know my girl."
Rosie sighed and stepped in close, brushing her fingers through his hair and pressing her lips to his jaw. “Your girl’s right here,” she whispered, her voice low and warm.
His breath hitched, and suddenly his hands were on her waist, gripping tight. "Rosie..."
“Told you,” she teased before he kissed her hard, pinning her to the door. His fingers tangled in her hair as their mouths collided in a hot, messy clash of teeth and tongue. He tasted like vodka and salt, and Rosie couldn’t get enough. His mouth moved down to her neck, biting at her skin until she gasped.
“Mine,” Katsuki growled against her throat, voice low and rough.
“Always,” she whispered back, dragging her nails down his back. He groaned and crushed her closer, like he couldn’t get enough of her.
And then... thud.
Katsuki tried to rip his shirt off but managed to get tangled in it instead, stumbling backward and nearly falling over. He started scowling at his own shirt like it had personally offended him. “Damn shirt...” he grunted, flailing like a cat stuck in a sweater. His head popped out from one sleeve, hair sticking out like he’d been electrocuted.
Rosie clamped a hand over her mouth, barely containing her laughter. "Need some help there, champ?"
“I’m fine,” Katsuki barked, voice muffled in the tangled fabric. He gave another fierce yank, only to punch himself square in the face with his own arm.
That did it—Rosie doubled over, laughing so hard her ribs ached. Tears pricked her eyes as she tried to wheeze out a breath.
“Y-yeah, okay,” Katsuki muttered darkly, finally tearing the shirt free and tossing it aside like it had insulted his family. His scowl locked on Rosie, but there was no heat behind it—just his usual stubborn pout.
"C'mere," she giggled, tugging him back into her arms. "You're still my winner."
“Too hot,” Katsuki groaned, voice slurred. “Too stuffy in here...need to cool off.”
Before she could stop him, he staggered to the door, unlocked it, and stumbled into the hallway.
“Wait—wait! Katsuki!” Rosie bolted after him. By the time she reached the back patio, her half-naked, very intoxicated boyfriend was already halfway up the trellis, shirtless, shoeless, and climbing to the roof like some drunk parkour expert.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Rosie shrieked.
“Cooling off!” Katsuki bellowed over his shoulder, like that was the most logical explanation in the world.
The partygoers below barely noticed, too distracted by their own drunken antics to care. Rosie watched in disbelief as Katsuki swaggered to the edge of the roof, his chest heaving. He stood there like some deranged king surveying his kingdom, then let out a war cry before cannonballing off the roof and into the pool.
Water erupted everywhere, splashing the deck and drenching a group of tipsy students.
Rosie stared in stunned silence as Katsuki surfaced, blonde hair plastered to his face. He wiped the water from his eyes, blinking around in confusion before spotting her.
“Rosie!” he slurred happily.
“Oh, no…” she muttered as he stomped out of the pool like a man on a mission, water dripping from every inch of him. Before she could escape, Katsuki grabbed her wrist, yanking her forward with surprising steadiness.
“No, no, no—” she squeaked, struggling as he hauled her up against him.
With shocking speed, he threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, her fists beating weakly against his back.
“Katsuki, put me down!”
Instead, he gave her ass a firm smack. “Now we can go to bed,” he declared, his voice full of smug satisfaction.
Rosie groaned, flopping against his back. “You’re impossible.”
Katsuki staggered back into the house, leaving a trail of wet footprints and oblivious to the fact that half the party had just witnessed the whole thing. Rosie peeked up to see that most of them were too drunk to notice or too far gone to remember any of this by morning.
“Thank God,” she muttered. Keeping their relationship a secret was proving harder every day...especially when her boyfriend acted like a feral goblin with vodka in his veins.
Groaning softly, Rosie shifted, her body aching in protest. Something heavy and warm pinned her down, and for a sleepy moment, she thought she'd been buried beneath a pile of blankets. But no—the solid weight had a heartbeat. Cracking her eyes open, she found herself face-to-face with a broad, bare chest, the distinct scent of Katsuki's smoky caramel scent lingering in the air. His arm was draped over her waist, holding her snugly against him.
For a brief moment, she let herself stay there. His breathing was deep and even, his normally sharp features relaxed in sleep. The sunlight barely peeked through the curtains, bathing the room in soft shadows. Only then did she realize they were still at Momo's house, curled up in one of the guest rooms. The faint taste of vodka still clung to her tongue, and her head throbbed like a bass drum.
"Ugh..." she muttered under her breath, easing herself out from beneath Katsuki's arm. He grunted, shifting slightly, but didn't wake. Carefully, she slid her legs over the side of the bed and stood, immediately regretting it as the room spun.
"Great," she muttered, holding her temples. Forcing herself to move, Rosie padded to the door, unlocked it, and stepped out into the hallway.
Bright sunlight poured in from the tall windows, making her hiss like a startled cat. She squinted, stepping over what looked like someone's shoes—were those Kaminari's?
The house was... destroyed. Confetti clung to every surface, plastic spiders and fake webs dangled from light fixtures, and solo cups and beer bottles covered every available table and countertop. A suspicious puddle of some sticky liquid glistened by the stairs.
"This is... a crime scene," Rosie muttered, her voice hoarse.
Making her way downstairs, she passed a tipped-over lamp draped in someone's fishnet stockings. A mangled piñata sat decapitated on the floor, candy scattered like casualties of war. A potted plant stood in the corner... with unmistakable puke dripping down its leaves.
"Gross..."
Several of their friends were sprawled in various states of unconsciousness. Shoji was asleep on the couch, one arm flopped over the back and the other tangled in an empty chip bag. Jirou was curled up beneath the coffee table, snoring softly with her headphones still in. She nearly tripped over Sero, who was passed out face-down on the floor, still wearing half his mummy costume.
The most absurd sight awaited her in the game room. Mineta was tied up with decorative Halloween lights, snoring softly on top of the pool table. Someone had even stuck a plastic spider ring on his forehead. Rosie snorted, shaking her head.
Through the glass doors, she spotted the pool—now a murky purple red from all the dye someone had dumped in the water. Floating face-up on an inflatable raft was Kaminari, his sunglasses askew and his jacket barely clinging to his shoulders.
"Still breathing," Rosie muttered, turning away from the window.
The kitchen was no better. Confetti coated the counter, plates of half-eaten food sat abandoned, and empty bottles of booze littered the room like debris. But what really startled her was the sight of Kirishima and Mina asleep on the kitchen island. Kirishima's arm was flopped protectively over Mina's waist, while Mina's face was smushed against a bag of chips.
"This house is cursed," Rosie mumbled, stepping carefully around a shattered glass. With her head still pounding, she reached for a glass of water, wondering how long it would take to clean this disaster zone.
Rosie grabbed two glasses of water and carefully made her way upstairs, stepping gingerly to avoid the shattered remnants of beer bottles scattered across the floor. The house was still dim, and she reached for the door to the guest room where Katsuki was sleeping when a faint noise caught her attention.
Frowning, she moved toward Momo’s room. “Momo?” she called softly, cracking the door open. “Are you okay?”
She regretted it immediately.
There was Momo, her hair a wild mess, wearing nothing but an oversized shirt that barely covered her thighs. Straddling her was Shoto, shirtless and equally disheveled, both of them absolutely covered in dark hickeys.
Rosie’s jaw dropped, her face heating.
“I—I’m so sorry!” she squeaked, slamming the door shut.
“Wait, Rosie!” Momo called out.
“Do you think she knows?” Shoto’s tired voice muttered behind the door.
Ignoring them, Rosie hurried back to the guest room, heart racing. She locked the door behind her, set the glasses on the nightstand, and climbed back into bed. Katsuki immediately wrapped himself around her. His arm slung low around her waist, pulling her close until her back was flush against his chest.
His lips brushed her pulse point, warm and lazy kisses dragging down her neck. Slow and languid licks on her pulse point had her whimpering, she let out a soft pitched moan when he sucked on it, her fingers sliding into his hair.
Katsuki’s hands gripped her thighs, easily flipping them over so he was on top. His weight pinned her to the bed, and he smirked down at her, his gaze half-lidded and still hazy with sleep, exhaustion and lust.
“Good morning,” she purred, breathless.
“What a good morning it is, doll,” he rasped, his voice deep and gravelly from the alcohol and sleep. The roughness of it sent a shiver down her spine.
She hummed, her fingers weaving through his messy blond hair as he kissed and nipped his way down her neck. “Hungover?” she murmured between sighs.
“Fuck yes,” he muttered against her skin, though it didn’t stop him from continuing his slow, lazy assault on her throat.
“I got you water,” she moaned when his teeth grazed her pulse point.
Katsuki rubbed his nose along her neck, then nuzzled behind her ear. “Drink it later,” he murmured.
“Katsuki, darling,” she cooed sweetly, tapping his cheek. “I’m starving.”
He groaned in protest but finally lifted his head. His bloodshot eyes softened when they met hers. “Can’t have that,” he muttered.
“The sooner we leave here, the sooner we can go back to my place and spend the day in bed,” Rosie teased.
“You make a damn good argument,” he rasped, rubbing at his face. “Give me a couple minutes, and I’ll be good to drive us back.”
Before she could respond, there was a knock on the door. Rosie groaned, burying her face in Katsuki’s chest. “What’s wrong, doll?” Katsuki chuckled. “Need me to beat the shit outta someone?”
“Right before I came back, I walked in on Momo and Shoto...and then I ran away,” Rosie muttered into his chest.
Katsuki’s laughter exploded from him, loud and unrelenting.
“It’s not funny!” Rosie whined, swatting his chest.
“Like hell it isn’t,” he snorted.
“Rosie?” Momo’s voice called from the hallway. “Can we talk?”
Rosie groaned again. Katsuki kissed her temple, grinning smugly as he grabbed his clothes from the floor. “Going to get dressed, doll,” he teased before entering the bathroom connected to the room and closed it behind him.
Rosie opened the door to reveal a flustered Momo wrapped in a baggy sweater and leggings that covered the evidence of her night with Shoto.“What you saw... I can explain,” Momo started.
Rosie shook her head, taking Momo’s hand in hers. “I’m not going to say anything to anyone. That’s your business... unless you’re bragging about him at girls' night.”
Momo sighed in relief.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m still wrapping my head around it myself.”
Rosie smiled warmly. “How about we grab coffee sometime this week, just the two of us? We can talk about it then.”
“I’d like that,” Momo beamed.
Back at her apartment, Rosie let out a content sigh, rolling her shoulders to ease the stiffness from the morning. It felt so good to be home after that chaotic night. "Pomchi," she called from the kitchen, grabbing eggs from the fridge. "Can you take Maya out to pee? I’ll start breakfast."
Katsuki appeared in the doorway, freshly showered and shirtless, his hair still damp and sticking up at odd angles. The scent of his body wash lingered in the air, clean and warm with a hint of spice. Rosie paused for a moment, admiring him before he grunted in reply, grabbed Maya’s leash, and whistled for her.
Maya trotted over, her fluffy tail wagging like crazy. "C'mon, furball," Katsuki muttered, opening the door. Maya barked happily as they disappeared down the hallway.
Smiling to herself, Rosie turned back to the stove. The comforting sound of sizzling eggs filled the air, and she hummed quietly as she flipped the sausages in the pan. Cooking for Katsuki had become second nature by now—he always ate like he was fueling a furnace, and Rosie had grown accustomed to doubling portions whenever he was around.
By the time Katsuki and Maya returned, Rosie had two plates of food ready and Maya was lapping noisily at her water bowl.
"C'mere," Katsuki mumbled, leaning down to kiss her forehead. His damp hair tickled her skin, and she grinned against his lips.
Taking her seat at the island counter, Rosie dug into her pancakes, scrambled eggs, and sausage—all drenched in maple syrup. Katsuki leaned against the counter beside her, his own plate piled with twice as much food as hers. He practically inhaled his breakfast, shoveling forkfuls into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in days. Rosie couldn’t help but smile; she loved these quiet mornings with him.
"I have work in the morning," Rosie said between bites, "and then lunch with Dad and Uncle Mic." She sipped her coffee, savoring the warmth. "My chemistry classes are postponed until they find a proper sub to take over."
Katsuki grunted. "What happened to your professor?"
"They got hurt in a villain attack over in Shibuya Ward." She yawned, setting her mug down. "Broke their leg."
"Damn." Katsuki shook his head, swallowing a mouthful of eggs. "I had to have my classes rescheduled to fit my hero work. All my classes are in the morning now."
Rosie frowned, her fork pausing halfway to her mouth. "I won’t see you much then."
Setting his fork down, Katsuki moved around the counter and stood between her parted legs, his warm palms settling on her thighs. "Hey." He tapped her cheek, his red eyes softening. "I’ll always make time for you, doll."
"I know," Rosie sighed, leaning into his touch. "It won’t make me miss you any less, though." Her lips pressed together in a pout, and she felt his fingers squeeze her thighs in response.
"I’ll only be a phone call or a text away." Katsuki leaned in closer, dragging his nose along her jaw. His voice was low and scratchy, still rough from the drinking the night before. "You know that."
She did. Even when Katsuki was busy fighting villains, he always found a way to text her back. If he was at the gym or driving and she called, he'd answer immediately. He always made sure she knew she came first, no matter what.
She picked up her fork, stabbing a piece of pancake and sausage, only for Katsuki to swoop in and steal it off her fork before she could eat it. "HEY!" she cried.
He chewed with a smug grin, swallowing before leaning in and kissing her with syrup-sweet lips.
"I was hungry," he muttered, licking his lips.
"You have your own food!" Rosie huffed, glaring at him.
"Tastes better when it’s yours." He shrugged like it was some universal truth.
"You just like to take my food," she shot back.
"Nothing wrong with that." He grinned, grabbing his own fork and finally returning to his plate.
"Hurry up and eat," she pouted. "I wanna go back to bed."
"So bossy," Katsuki smirked, shoveling another forkful into his mouth.
"Am not," she huffed.
He leaned in again, kissing her soundly on the lips. "I don’t mind taking orders from you."
Rosie melted into him for a moment before resting her head on his shoulder. "I’m serious though," she murmured. "I know you’ll be busy with work, but I’m gonna miss you."
"I know." His hand rubbed slow, lazy circles on her back. "But you’re still stuck with me, doll. No way I’m letting you get away that easy."
Rosie smiled into his shoulder. "Wouldn’t dream of it."
Rosie stood in front of the employee room mirror, tugging her soft, oversized sweater down over her pencil skirt. The sweater was a rich shade of burgundy, warm and cozy against her skin. Paired with her sleek black boots that reached just below her knees, she felt confident and cute—an outfit that said "fall chic." The cold October air outside practically demanded layers, and Rosie was happy to oblige.
Satisfied with her look, she grabbed her phone from the locker shelf, angled it in the mirror, and snapped a quick photo. With a smirk, she sent it off to Katsuki along with the caption: Cute enough?
She slipped her purse over her shoulder and exited the employee room, stepping out into the crisp afternoon air. The chill nipped at her face, making her tuck her chin deeper into her scarf as she started down the street toward the restaurant. Her phone buzzed, and she glanced down to see Pomchi💖 name light up her screen.
Pomchi💖: Where the hell you think you’re goin' lookin' like that?
Rosie snorted and texted back quickly: Lunch with Dad and Uncle Mic. and being adorable.
Pomchi💖 : Tch. Hate that I'm heading home when you're out here lookin' all so fucking gorgeous.
Rosie grinned, her face warming against the chilly air. Her fingers danced across her screen. Don't pout, Pomchi. I'll send you another pic if you behave.
His response was almost instant: Can't stop thinking about your stupidly cute smile today.
Her breath hitched a little, her fingers pausing over the keys. That warmth in her chest bloomed, spreading through her like the glow of a fireplace.
Rosie: Stop, you're embarrassing me.
Pomchi💖: My job as boyfriend.
Rosie giggled, nearly stumbling over a crack in the sidewalk as she typed: I'm at the restaurant now, I'll text you when I'm leaving.
Pomchi💖: Will be waiting for the text doll.
Slipping her phone back into her purse, Rosie pushed through the restaurant doors. The warm scent of sizzling meat and freshly baked bread enveloped her, the comforting noise of low chatter filling the space.
She spotted her dad and Uncle Mic at a corner table. Her dad was his usual self, quietly sipping his drink with that ever-present scowl. Meanwhile, Uncle Mic animatedly waved his arms, voice booming even over the restaurant's bustle. His wild gestures seemed to be a one-man performance, and Rosie's dad looked both resigned and mildly entertained.
Rosie barely had time to sit down before her uncle practically jumped out of his chair.
"Rosie! My gorgeous niece!" Uncle Mic bellowed, arms wide open as if he planned to sweep her into a hug right there in the middle of the restaurant. Several nearby tables turned to look, but he didn’t seem to notice, or care. "Look at you! All stylish and professional!"
Rosie grinned, brushing her hair back as she set her purse down beside her chair. "Hey, Uncle Mic. Hey, Dad."
“Hi sunshine,” her dad gave her a small smile, his usual understated way of showing he was happy to see her.
"So," Uncle Mic grinned, rubbing his hands together like he was about to deliver some big news, "Tell me, kid—what’s new in your life? Anything exciting? Any hot dates?"
Rosie barely had time to laugh before her dad growled, "Hell no."
"Aw, come on now," Uncle Mic chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "She’s young, beautiful—she should be dating! Right, Rosie?"
"I—" Rosie stammered, her mind flashing back to Katsuki’s last text. Her heart still fluttered from it. "I’m… I’m busy with school."
"Yeah, good," her dad muttered, taking a sip of his drink. "Busy with school."
"Pfft," Uncle Mic waved him off. "She’s got time for both. Come on, Yagi, what’s the big deal? What, you think she's gonna date some thug?"
"I said no," her dad repeated firmly, his voice dropping low. "She’s got enough on her plate without some guy making things complicated."
"What’s that supposed to mean?" Uncle Mic shot back. "What if she’s already got a crush?" He shot Rosie a mischievous grin. "Come on, spill it. Got anyone you’re sweet on?"
"Uncle Mic…" Rosie groaned, burying her face in her hands.
"She has a crush on young Todoroki,” her Dad grumbled, crossing his arms.
"Shoto?!" Uncle Mic’s eyebrows shot up. "Didn’t think he’d be your type."
"What’s that supposed to mean?" her dad blinked. "What does her type seem like, then?"
"I dunno," Uncle Mic shrugged, like he was enjoying this far too much. "I’d say someone cool, aloof, perhaps even a bit indifferent to most people."
He paused, then grinned. "Definitely not Shoto."
"Nah," her dad scoffed. "Someone like that wouldn’t keep up with her. She needs someone sharp—smart, tough, with a good head on his shoulders."
"Ohhh," Uncle Mic wagged a finger at him. "You mean someone like you." He paused, then added, crossing his arms, "Just admit that you’re jealous that your little girl doesn’t want to marry you anymore."
Rosie let out an embarrassed groan, but the comment made her remember a time when that had been true. When she was little, her dad had been her whole world. Back then, she couldn’t imagine anyone better, stronger, or cooler than her dad. To her, he was invincible, the man who chased away nightmares and scooped her up like she weighed nothing at all. He was the one who checked under her bed and in her closet for monsters without a second thought, never acting like her fears were silly. When thunderstorms rolled in, loud and booming, she’d crawl into his bed, her small hands clutching his shirt as he held her close.
Her dad never minded. He never told her to tough it out or said she was too old to be afraid. He’d just wrap an arm around her, mutter, “I’ve got you, sunshine,” and she’d fall asleep feeling safe.
He had always agreed to her little demands too—whether it was pretending to be the villain so she could heroically defeat him in an epic living room battle or letting her paint his nails with glittery polish because she insisted it made him look 'extra powerful.' If she wanted to throw a tea party with all her stuffed animals, he’d show up in a suit, bowtie crooked and oversized teacup in hand. When she decided her superhero name would be “Sunshine” because that’s what he called her, he proudly declared her the strongest hero of them all.
Even when his work pulled him back to Japan, he always found ways to make her feel like she was still the center of his universe. He’d send care packages filled with little gifts—cute stationery with smiling cats, keychains shaped like sushi rolls, and sometimes little trinkets with All Might’s face on them because he knew how much she loved the Number One Hero. Every package had a handwritten note inside, always signed: I love you, Sunshine.
And when she had declared, at the ripe age of five, that she was going to marry him when she grew up, he hadn’t laughed or brushed her off. Instead, he’d smiled and said, “Well, then I better get you a ring, huh?”
A few days later, he gave her a small silver band on a delicate chain. “This,” he had said, fastening it around her neck, “is my love for you. It’s what keeps you safe and reminds you that no matter where I am, I’ll always come home to you. Because you’re my little Sunshine.”
Of course, as she got older, she realized she couldn’t actually marry her dad. The thought made her laugh now, but as a kid, it had seemed like the perfect idea. Because back then, no one in the world could compare to her dad—and honestly, no one really could now either.
Rosie froze, her face burning with embarrassment.
"What? No!" her dad barked.
"You sure about that?" Uncle Mic teased. "If anything, her type would be just like you, grumpy, reserved, no-nonsense—sounds a whole lot like you to me."
Rosie let out a strangled noise, half-laugh and half-groan, and buried her face in her hands again. "Can we please change the subject before I die of embarrassment?"
"Fine, fine," Uncle Mic chuckled. "But don’t think this conversation’s over."
Her dad grunted, clearly not willing to humor the idea any further. Rosie peeked up from her hands and caught her uncle’s teasing grin—and she couldn’t help but smile despite herself.
Even if he had slightly described Katsuki.
Notes:
This chapter genuinely made me cry because I love my Dad and I had wanted to marry him when I was young because in my opinion, he hung the sun, moon and stars🥹
Chapter 61: Stalker, she actually had a stalker.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Pulling the ringing device out of her apron, Rosie frowned at the unknown number flashing on her screen. "Hello?" she answered cautiously.
"Rosie! This is Miyaki, the owner of Ignis Inferno."
Recognition dawned on her. The woman who owned that speakeasy club in the underground tunnels. "Hello, Miyaki. What can I do for you?" Rosie asked politely, still unsure why the club owner was calling.
"Amazing! Business is fantastic! But listen, I wanted to ask if you'd be interested in working at my club as a permanent dancer."
Blinking, Rosie stared at her phone incredulously. "What?"
"Opening night, my investors were there," Miyaki explained eagerly. "They really liked your performance, and several of them have asked about you specifically."
Rosie stared blankly at the pastry display case in front of her, still processing the words. "Oh wow..." was all she could manage.
"You'd only work Friday and Saturday nights, and I'll pay you double what you're making now," Miyaki added enticingly. "I know it's sudden, and I don't want to pressure you. Which is why I'll give you until the end of October to decide."
Rosie glanced at the calendar on the wall, a little over three weeks until her deadline. "Thank you," she said finally. "I’ll think about it and let you know."
"Perfect! Thank you for considering my offer. Take care, Rosie."
After hanging up, Rosie pocketed her phone into her apron and made her way toward the kitchen. She barely had time to process the conversation when she heard raised voices from inside. "Oh no..." she muttered, stepping into the doorway.
Kanako stood by the counter, red-faced and gripping a wooden spoon like a sword. Across from her, Shinso leaned against the fridge, arms crossed and looking bored but exasperated.
"What’s going on here?" Rosie blinked.
"Why don’t you tell her what you said?" Kanako barked, pointing the spoon at Shinso like an accusing finger.
Shinso let out a deep sigh. "Kanako was just telling me how another date failed, and I might have mentioned that her constant clubbing is a huge turn-off to a lot of guys."
Rosie winced. Oh no... he didn’t.
Kanako's eyes widened dangerously. "You’ve never even had a girlfriend!” she shot back.
"Yeah? Well at least I’m not out there wasting my time on every loser in town!" Shinso retorted.
Kanako gasped as if he'd slapped her. Then, without a word, she reached for the nearby flour jar, grabbed a handful, and flung it right at Shinso’s face.
"Oh, you did not," Shinso muttered, brushing the powder from his hair.
"I absolutely did!" Kanako snapped, arms crossed.
"Fine," Shinso growled, grabbing the flour jar himself.
"Oh no," Rosie muttered.
"Don’t you dare," Kanako warned, taking a step back.
"I dare," Shinso shot back, and tossed a full handful of flour right at her head.
"HEY!" Kanako shrieked, flailing her arms as the white powder dusted her hair and shoulders. She snatched up a nearby measuring cup, still half-filled with flour, and lobbed it back at him.
"I knew this was escalating too fast!" Rosie yelped as flour filled the air. She grabbed a nearby cookie sheet from the counter and ducked behind it like a shield just as more flour came flying past her head. "You’re cleaning this up!" Rosie shouted from her protective spot.
"If he survives!" Kanako shouted back, her voice laced with laughter as she hurled yet another cloud of flour at Shinso, who was now spattered head to toe in white powder.
Rosie peeked out from behind her cookie sheet to see both of them covered in flour, looking like they’d crawled out of a snowstorm. Kanako stood triumphant, wooden spoon still gripped in her hand, while Shinso glared at her through a mask of powder.
Rosie groaned and set down her cookie sheet. "I’ll go grab the mop."
It had just hit two when Rosie flopped down onto her stool behind the register, pulling out her homework. Today had been slow, which had given her plenty of time to catch up on studying. She flipped through her chemistry notes, trying to focus on balancing equations when her phone dinged.
Pomchi💖 lit up on the screen, and Rosie’s tired expression melted into a smile. She swiped the notification open.
Pomchi💖: Hey doll
Rosie: Pomchi!
Pomchi💖: How's work?
Rosie: Had to separate Shinso and Kanako considering they got into a fight over something stupid.
Pomchi💖: Oh yeah?
Rosie: Flour went everywhere in the kitchen, and Shinso’s currently cleaning it up while Kanako’s in the bathroom cleaning herself off.
The familiar chime of the bell startled her, signaling a customer had walked in. Glancing up, she saw Riku, neatly dressed in a sharp suit, a sleek leather briefcase in hand. His usual polished look suited him well, and he smiled politely as he approached the counter.
“The usual?” Rosie asked with a warm smile.
He shook his head. “I’ll have something different today.”
“Oh?” She tilted her head. “Feeling adventurous?”
Riku chuckled softly. “Something like that. I’ll take an iced coffee and a slice of coffee cake, please.”
“Alright!”
Rosie moved behind the counter, grabbing a fresh slice of coffee cake from the display case and sliding it into a to-go box. As she prepared his iced coffee, she could feel Riku’s gaze lingering, warm and a little too focused. Thinking nothing of it, she turned back to him with her usual cheerful grin.
“Here you go!” Rosie placed the coffee and the cake on the counter. “Enjoy!”
“Thanks.” Riku’s fingers brushed against hers as he grabbed the coffee. His hand lingered a second too long, his eyes sharp and intense as he studied her face. Rosie blinked, a bit uncomfortable now, but smiled politely.
“See you around,” he said, his gaze still fixed on her even as he turned to leave. Rosie exhaled once the door shut behind him, shaking her head as she brushed it off.
By the time five o’clock rolled around, Rosie is more than ready to head home. She packed her things, tossed her apron into the locker, and grabbed her purse. Bidding a quick farewell to Shinso and Kanako, who were still half-dusting flour off their clothes, Rosie stepped outside.
The autumn air was crisp, and the evening chill nipped at her as she walked down the bustling sidewalk. People hurried past her, some chatting on phones, others lost in their own thoughts. Rosie’s fingers toyed with her phone as she typed a quick text to Katsuki.
Rosie: Just got off work, heading home now. I miss you!
Sliding her phone back into her purse, Rosie tucked her chin deeper into her scarf. That’s when it hit her, that unsettling feeling of being watched. The fine hairs on the back of her neck rose, and her footsteps slowed. She turned her head, scanning the crowd.
Nothing. Just strangers going about their evening routines.
Relax, she told herself, pulling her scarf tighter. It’s just your imagination.
The uneasy feeling gnawed at Rosie as she walked down the street. She glanced over her shoulder more than once, her pulse quickening each time she spotted a shadow or a figure lingering too long in her peripheral vision. But every time she looked back, there was no one distinguishable, just faces in the crowd, strangers coming and going in the chilly October air.
Her heart thudded uncomfortably as she quickened her pace, clutching her purse close to her side. She only started to feel better once she stepped into the bright, bustling grocery store. The familiar hum of conversation, the clatter of shopping carts, and the faint sound of music playing overhead gave her a sense of normalcy of safety.
Rosie exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and grabbed a basket. She wandered the aisles, tossing items in absentmindedly: eggs, milk, some fruit, but that feeling wouldn’t quite leave her. Her skin prickled like someone was still watching her.
Then, chaos erupted.
A deafening crack rang out, followed by a second, unmistakable gunshots. Screams filled the air as shoppers dropped to the floor, carts crashing against shelves in a desperate scramble for safety. Rosie’s basket clattered to the ground as she ducked behind a low shelf in the cereal aisle, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
Her trembling fingers fumbled for her phone, and she barely managed to swipe it open before her hands shook too hard to type.
Pomchi💖
The line rang once... twice...
"Hey doll," Katsuki's voice panted through the speaker. He must have just started his patrol, "How was work?"
"I... I’m in the store... there’s—there’s a–"
A heavy bootstep behind her made her heart leap into her throat. Before she could finish her sentence, a rough hand grabbed her arm and wrenched her up. Her phone clattered to the floor, screen still lit.
"Don’t touch me!" she whimpered, struggling against her captor’s grip.
"Shut up," a gruff voice growled. Rosie barely had a chance to look, a man in a dark mask, his fingers digging painfully into her arm. His other hand reached for her phone, snatching it off the floor. He glanced at the screen, scoffing at the still-open call.
"Looks like your boyfriend’s gonna have a fun time listening," he sneered before ending the call and stuffing her phone into his pocket.
Rosie’s pulse thundered in her ears as he dragged her out from the aisle. Around her, people were still on the floor, some crying, others whispering prayers. She twisted against his grip, her heart hammering in her chest, but he held tight, shoving her toward the front of the store where more masked figures were barking orders at the terrified shoppers.
Swallowing, she bit back the pain in her arm as he continued to drag her to the front where he forced her into a chair and tying her up immediately. Rosie winced as her arm throbbed where the villain had grabbed her. The ropes digging into her wrists were tight, biting into her skin with every slight movement. The grocery store had turned into chaos—glass littered the floor, shelves had been knocked over, and the air was heavy with fear. The customers and staff were huddled together, some crying softly, others too stunned to speak. The villains barked orders, pacing like wolves cornering prey.
“You better let me go,” Rosie snapped, her voice shaking more from anger than fear.
“This one’s got a mouth,” the thug who grabbed her sneered.
“Yeah? Why's that?” The one who had tied her up leaned in close, leering at her. His breath reeked of cigarettes and stale coffee.
“My boyfriend's going to kick your ass,” Rosie shot back without hesitation.
“Yeah right,” the thug barked out a laugh before roughly shoving her chair back against the counter. The impact jarred her spine, making her bite down on her lip to hold back a yelp of pain.
"Be a good girl and keep that mouth of yours shut," he sneered before turning away.
Rosie sucked in a breath and scanned the room. Two men were standing by the door, quirks at the ready—one was generating sparks between his fingertips, the other kept forming ice crystals over the glass windows, reinforcing their barricade. Another thug was at the far end of the store, shoving terrified staff members around as he demanded to know where the manager was.
The one who had grabbed her was pacing, eyes flicking between the exits and the back room. He kept flexing his fingers, his knuckles glowing faintly red like embers, growing frustrated by whatever it was, he turned to her and slapped her across the face.
Rosie clenched her jaw, glaring up at the villain. Her face throbbed where he'd slapped her, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of flinching.
"What the hell are you staring at, girlie?" he sneered, his tone dripping with smugness.
"A dumbass," Rosie shot back. Her voice wavered only slightly, her courage clashing against her fear.
His grin faltered, replaced with something darker. "Oh yeah?"
Normally, Rosie would have stayed quiet. She wasn’t confrontational; she avoided conflict like the plague. But something had shifted in her since being with Katsuki, something fierce and unwavering. Katsuki’s confidence had rubbed off on her, and no matter how terrified she felt inside, she knew better than to show weakness.
The villain grabbed her face, fingers digging painfully into her jaw. "Such a filthy mouth for a little girlie like yourself." His breath reeked of stale cigarettes, and Rosie swallowed hard.
His palm ignited, flames licking at her skin. Rosie clenched her teeth and whimpered as the heat seared her cheek. But instinct kicked in. Her quirk flared to life, canceling his power instantly. The flames flickered out, leaving nothing but the lingering sting of a burn.
"What the hell...?" The villain stumbled back a step, confusion clouding his expression. Then he grinned again, wider, nastier. "An erasing quirk, huh? Rare type." His eyes raked over her like she was some sort of prize. "Can’t use a quirk on you... but I can always just resort to good old-fashioned violence."
The punch came fast, a brutal, knuckle-cracking hit to her ribs. Rosie gasped, doubling over as her breath hitched in her chest. Before she could recover, he grabbed her by the hair, jerking her head back painfully.
"Still got anything smart to say?" he sneered, twisting her hair tighter.
"Yeah," she choked out. "You're pathetic."
His fist struck her again, this time across the face. Stars burst behind her eyes, and she swayed in the chair. Warm blood trickled down her split lip.
"Want to keep testing me, princess?" he growled. He grabbed her arm next, squeezing hard enough to bruise. His grip tightened, and Rosie bit back a cry.
But through the haze of pain, she held onto one thought, one unwavering belief that kept her steady: She had faith in Katsuki.
No matter what they did to her, no matter how scared she was, she knew Katsuki would come. He always came. He texted her back no matter what. He picked up when she called, even if he was busy. He kept his promises. He would find her.
"I don't know why you're smiling," the villain scoffed, noticing her faint grin. He grabbed her by the collar of her sweater and yanked her closer.
"You think this is funny?"
"Yeah..." Rosie coughed. Her ribs ached, her head was spinning, but still, she grinned. "You're so dead."
Before the villain could respond, a thunderous explosion rocked the building. The glass storefront shattered, sending jagged shards cascading onto the floor. The air shifted, a gust of cold wind sweeping inside as frost spread rapidly across the windows and doorframes, Shoto’s work. Shouts erupted from outside, the panicked cries of the other robbers filling the air.
The villain’s grip on Rosie’s collar slackened, his head snapping toward the entrance. His fingers twitched nervously, and Rosie felt her heart pound in her chest.
"Told you," Rosie rasped, her split lip curling into a shaky smile. "I’d start running if I were you."
But the villain didn’t get the chance.
Through the frozen, fractured doorway, Katsuki stormed in, his crimson gauntlets gleaming, steam rising off his body from the heat of his quirk. His mask shadowed his narrowed eyes, but Rosie knew that look, pure, dangerous fury. She squeezed her thighs together, as that delicious ache from her pussy at seeing her boyfriend burn. His gaze locked onto her first, scanning her face, her torn sweater, the bruises on her cheek. Then his focus zeroed in on the man still holding her by the collar.
The villain’s face drained of color. His hand fell away from Rosie like she’d scalded him. "Dynamight..." he whispered, stumbling back a step, his bravado crumbling to dust.
"I’m going to fucking kill you, bastard." Katsuki’s voice was low, lethal. Before the man could turn and run, Katsuki’s palm ignited with a furious BOOM. The villain staggered back, crashing into a shelf of canned goods.
"Thought you could put your hands on my girl?" Katsuki’s voice shook with rage as he grabbed the man by the front of his shirt, hoisting him up before slamming his fist into his face. Sparks flared from Katsuki’s palm as another explosion blasted the man across the aisle, knocking over displays. The villain groaned, struggling to sit up, but Katsuki was already on him.
"Kacchan!" Izuku’s voice called from outside, but Katsuki didn’t stop.
"You think you’re tough?!” Katsuki snarled, another explosion flaring from his palm as he slammed it into the man’s side, sending him sprawling again. "Putting your hands on her like that?!"
The villain coughed, barely able to lift his head. "Please..."
Katsuki grabbed him by the collar again, his arm drawn back as another explosion crackled to life in his palm. The heat from his quirk washed over her, harsh and suffocating, but Rosie barely noticed, her attention was locked on him. "You’re lucky murder is frowned upon, but beating you to an inch of your life isn't."
"Katsuki!" she rasped, her voice raw and broken.
His head whipped toward her, his crimson eyes wide with panic. That moment of hesitation was all Izuku needed to dart in and grab the barely conscious villain, dragging him away. Katsuki let him go without protest, already moving toward her. He dropped to one knee in front of her, ripping the ropes from her wrists like they were nothing. The second the bindings fell away, Rosie collapsed forward into his chest.
"Katsuki," she whimpered, fresh tears clinging to her lashes as her body trembled violently. His arms circled her tightly, pulling her against him like he could anchor her back to safety just by holding her close.
"I should've gotten here faster," he muttered, his voice low and tight with regret. His hand rose, cradling her face gently, his thumb brushing over the bruise on her cheek with heartbreaking tenderness. "I'm sorry."
"I'm okay," Rosie whispered, leaning into his touch. The warmth of his palm, the steady rhythm of his breathing, it was enough to quiet her racing heart.
"You're bleeding," Katsuki ground out, his gaze flickering over her with thinly veiled fury. His fingers ghosted down her arm, trembling slightly as they hovered over the burn mark left behind by the villain’s quirk.
Rosie giggled weakly, her head lolling against his shoulder. "Healing quirk from Mum, remember? It'll be gone soon."
He exhaled a sharp breath, his forehead resting against hers. "I was fucking terrified when I heard you getting grabbed over the phone."
"I'm sorry," she whispered again, barely audible.
"Don't apologize," he muttered, his lips brushing the top of her cheek in a kiss that was somehow both tender and desperate.
"How did you find me so fast?" Rosie asked, her voice small.
"You shared your location with me when you got that tattoo," Katsuki said gruffly, pulling her closer.
"I don't remember that," she pouted, feeling a hint of lightness break through the exhaustion.
"Your ass was drunk, that's why." He scooped her up like she weighed nothing, cradling her against his chest as he carried her toward the shattered entrance. "Regardless of your quirk healing you, you're still getting checked out."
"I know," Rosie murmured, her head resting against his chest. His heartbeat was loud and steady in her ear, grounding her in a way nothing else could.
"I'm tired," she added softly. "And my body aches."
"I'm getting off patrol early," Katsuki muttered. "I'll come over later."
"Sunshine!"
Rosie’s head shot up at the familiar voice. Her dad was sprinting toward her, in his own hero uniform. His face twisted with fear as his eyes locked on her. "Dad," she croaked, her throat tightening painfully. Tears welled in her eyes again, threatening to spill over.
The moment Katsuki stopped walking, her father reached out, and Rosie instinctively reached for him. Katsuki’s grip hesitated, his arms stiffened, like he didn’t want to let go. But eventually, reluctantly, he handed her over.
Rosie melted into her dad’s arms, clinging to him like she was a child again. He held her tightly, one hand cradling the back of her head, like she might disappear if he let go.
"Are you okay?" her dad asked, pulling back just enough to see her face. His frown deepened when he took in the bruises and the blood smeared across her sweater. "You're covered in blood."
"Katsuki saved me," Rosie said, twisting just enough to look at her boyfriend. Katsuki stood off to the side now, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed like he was still on edge. His hands were still curled into fists.
Her dad turned to him, his expression softening with gratitude. "Thank you for saving my daughter, Dynamight."
Katsuki's scowl deepened, and he crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "I'm a pro. Of course I'd save her."
Rosie bit her lip to keep from giggling. He was pouting. Full-on sulking because her dad had taken her away before he was ready to let go.
"Told you to stay out of trouble," Katsuki grumbled under his breath before turning sharply on his heel and stalking away.
Rosie watched him go, smiling faintly despite everything. He was furious, not at her, but at himself for not getting there sooner. But she knew better. He’d been there when she needed him most, and that was what mattered.
“Let’s get you to one of the paramedics,” her Dad turned, immediately heading to one of the ambulances.
She rested her head against her Dad’s chest, smiling.
Rosie sank deeper into the couch, her legs tucked beneath her as she cradled her wine glass in one hand and aimlessly flipped through channels with the other. The TV flickered with sitcom reruns, but she barely registered the laugh track. Her cucumber mask had begun to dry and tighten on her face, but she couldn’t bring herself to wash it off yet. The soothing chill of it felt nice against her skin, a calming contrast to the dull ache still lingering in her body.
Freshly showered and wrapped in her softest sweater and leggings, Rosie had tried to lean into the comfort of her evening routine, glass of wine, bad TV, and a fluffy blanket, but her eyes kept flicking to the door.
Katsuki said he'd come by...
She swirled her wine lazily, glancing at the clock. 12:47 AM.
Her mind drifted to the earlier events of the day, the villain’s cruel smirk, the burning pain on her arm, Katsuki’s furious expression as he fought his way toward her. Despite the wine warming her chest, she still shivered.
With a sigh, she finally peeled herself off the couch and shuffled to the bathroom. The mask had dried completely, cracking at the edges. As she rinsed it away, Rosie caught her reflection in the mirror, faint bruises ghosted her cheek and jaw, dull pink marks that her quirk had healed most of the damage. She swallowed hard, blinking back tears.
Don’t be stupid. You’re fine now. He’s fine.
By the time she returned to the couch, she felt the drowsiness creeping in. She wrapped her blanket around herself, curling up with her head resting against the armrest. Her eyelids fluttered shut, and she barely registered the sound of her apartment door unlocking.
The quiet click of the lock startled her awake just enough to see a familiar silhouette standing in the doorway. Katsuki, still clad in his hero gear, the faint scorch marks on his uniform marking how hard he'd pushed himself that day. His hair stuck up in chaotic spikes, his face tired yet still unmistakably him.
"You’re home," Rosie mumbled sleepily, her voice soft and thick with fatigue.
Katsuki grunted, locking the door behind him. "Hawks is such a pain in the ass," he muttered, sounding almost guilty. He kicked off his boots and dropped his gloves onto the entry table before making his way over to her. Rosie pushed herself up, blinking blearily as he reached the couch. Without a word, Katsuki sank down beside her, his arm immediately hooking around her waist and dragging her against his side."Told you I’d come by," he murmured, voice low and rough.
Rosie leaned into his warmth, resting her head on his shoulder. "You okay?"
"Yeah..." His fingers brushed over her arm, skimming the faint mark the villain had left. "You?"
"I’m fine," she whispered. "Just glad you’re here."
"Yeah," he exhaled, resting his head against hers. "Me too."
“Do you wanna go shower?”
He smirked down at her, “trying to say I smell?”
She hummed, “not at all. Just ready to go to bed is all.”
He kissed the crown of her head, “go get in bed and I’ll join you.”
Rosie nodded, slowly sliding out of his lap and towards her bedroom. Rosie sank deeper into the warmth of her bed, her fingers absently tracing Maya's soft fur. The soft hum of the TV still played in the background, and she blinked slowly, her exhaustion finally pulling her under.
The sudden crash from the other room jolted her upright, heart pounding in her chest. "What the..." she mumbled groggily. Before she could even fully register the sound, her bedroom door slammed open. "Katsuki?" she gasped, eyes wide. He stood in the doorway, still in his hero uniform, sweat on his brow and his face a storm of barely contained rage.
"Get up," he barked, his voice sharp and urgent.
"W-What? Why?" she stammered, clutching her blanket closer.
Ignoring her, he stalked to her closet, yanked out a bag, and started stuffing clothes into it.
"What are you doing?" Rosie demanded, panic rising in her throat as she scrambled out of bed.
"Need to get you out of here," he muttered, voice low but fierce. He turned to her, grabbed her face between his hands, thumbs skimming beneath her eyes. His touch was gentle, but his expression was taut with worry. "Doll, just listen to me, alright? I need you to do exactly what I say without question."
"O-Okay..." Her voice trembled.
"Pack your things. Call your dad, tell him you’re staying at Kiri’s and Mina’s for a while. I’ll pick you up from there. Got it?"
"Why... Why call my dad?”Her voice shook, the confusion and fear knotting in her chest.
"Come here," he muttered, tugging her toward the living room. The moment she saw her books scattered across the floor, her heart sank. "My books..." she whispered mournfully.
"I’ll buy you new ones," Katsuki muttered, almost chuckling. But there was no warmth in it. "That’s not what I wanted you to see."
He guided her around the couch, and Rosie froze when she saw the broken camera on the floor. Her breath hitched.
"Is that... yours?" she asked faintly, though she already knew the answer.
"No," Katsuki said grimly. "It was behind your books, spying on you."
"...Spying?" Her voice barely made it past her lips.
Then it hit her, the feeling of being watched that had haunted her for weeks, the misplaced items, the moments when she swore things weren't where she left them. All the times she'd dismissed it as paranoia or her being forgetful. The air felt heavier, and a cold wave of dread coiled around her chest.
Her mind raced, thinking back to moments she'd been alone in her apartment, walking from the shower with a towel barely wrapped around her, Katsuki’s hands on her hips as they kissed lazily on the couch, the way she walked around her apartment half naked to music in her kitchen when she thought no one was watching.
"Oh my God..." she choked out. Her knees buckled, and she dropped to the floor. "Oh my God..."
"Hey, hey, hey." Katsuki knelt beside her, wrapping his arms tightly around her. "I’ve got you. You’re okay. I’m here." His voice was softer now, but his grip was firm, anchoring her.
Rosie shook her head, her breath hitching. "I should’ve known... I felt it—I knew something was wrong... For the last couple of months, I felt like I was being followed to and from work, to the grocery store or when I would take Maya out to the dog park…”
"Then why the hell didn’t you say anything?" Katsuki demanded, but his voice wasn’t angry, it was desperate.
"I thought I was just being paranoid," she sobbed, clutching his uniform tightly. "I didn’t want to seem silly. I didn’t want to... waste your time if it was nothing."
"Nothing?" His voice rose slightly, his hands gripping her shoulders. "Rosie, you should’ve told me. Something like that’s never nothing."
"I’m sorry," she whimpered.
"Don’t be sorry," Katsuki growled, his forehead pressing against hers. "Just trust me next time. Please." His voice cracked slightly at the end, and Rosie’s heart clenched.
"I will," she whispered. "I swear."
"Good." He kissed her temple, then stood up, hauling her gently to her feet. "Now let’s get you out of here. I’m not letting you stay one more night in this place while your stalker could be fucking anywhere."
Stalker, she actually had a stalker.
Rosie let him pull her close again, burying her face in his chest as she tried to shake the feeling that someone—whoever had been watching her—was still out there. Watching. Waiting.
Notes:
Rosie has had a really shitty day, I actually feel bad but my god, trust me things only get worse for her from here lol<3
Chapter 62: I’m not worth stalking over!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie sniffed quietly as she sat curled in the passenger seat of her dad’s car, her fingers tangled tightly in Maya's fur. The little dog shifted on her lap, sensing her distress, and licked her trembling hands. Her dad drove in silence, one hand steady on the wheel while the other occasionally twitched toward her, as if he wanted to comfort her but didn’t know how. The soft hum of the engine did little to quiet the pounding in her chest.
Her dad had arrived quickly after she called him, and with him came the cops and her Uncle Mic, who'd taken over overseeing the situation. She had spent what felt like hours giving her statement. She’d followed the script Katsuki had made her memorize, telling the police that she'd knocked her books down while investigating a noise and found the camera tucked behind them. She had left out any mention of Katsuki, giving only half-truths. The officers asked her question after question: who had keys to her apartment, if she'd noticed anything else suspicious, if she'd ever confronted anyone. She answered as best as she could, but her mind had been buzzing too loud to focus properly.
Now, her dad’s car sat parked in Mina and Kirishima’s driveway, yet neither of them moved to get out.
“Sunshine,” her dad coaxed, his voice soft but firm. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
Rosie opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. She stared out the window at Mina’s house, porch lights glowing warmly, yet the sight didn’t bring comfort. It only reminded her that she wouldn’t be going home tonight. Home wasn’t safe. It had never been safe.
“I...” she began, her voice wavering. “I thought I was just being paranoid.” Her fingers clenched tighter in Maya’s fur, and the little dog whined softly. “Why would someone want to stalk me? What is the reasoning behind it? I’m not...” Her breath hitched. “I’m not worth stalking over!"
The words tumbled out faster now, her voice rising. "I’m not a pro hero! I’m not famous! I go to university, work at a coffee shop..." Her voice broke. "Why would anyone even care about me enough to break into my apartment and—” She stopped abruptly, her breath catching painfully in her throat. The weight of it all seemed to crash over her at once, cold and suffocating.
The camera.
The missing things in her apartment.
The uneasy feeling of being watched when she walked home alone.
The cold dread she’d ignored for weeks.
Her fingers shot to her face as if she could block out the memories. The overwhelming sense of violation knotted her stomach and squeezed her chest. Someone had been in her home. They had been watching her. Her apartment—the place she was supposed to feel safe—had been nothing but a stage for someone’s twisted obsession. Her breath came faster, too fast, her chest rising and falling in shallow bursts.
"Sweetheart," her dad said, reaching across the console, but she barely heard him. Her pulse roared in her ears. Her fingers felt numb. Her skin crawled with the memory of invisible eyes tracking her. Tears blurred her vision as her breathing turned ragged.
“I can’t... I can’t breathe,” she gasped, clutching her chest.
“Hey, hey,” her dad said quickly, unbuckling his seatbelt to face her properly. "Breathe with me, Sunshine, okay? Follow me." He grabbed her hand, pressing her palm against his chest. His breathing slowed deliberately, deep and steady. "In... out... nice and slow. Just like this."
Rosie tried to follow, but the panic clawing at her ribs refused to let go.
“I can’t,” she choked, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Dad, I can’t—I can’t stop thinking about it, about them seeing me—being in my apartment and I—”
“You’re safe now,” her dad said firmly, cupping her face and forcing her to look at him. "You hear me? You’re safe. They’re not here anymore. No one’s going to hurt you, I promise."
His voice cracked slightly, and that broke something inside her. With a broken sob, she buried her face in his chest, gripping his jacket like it was the only thing keeping her afloat. He held her tightly, rocking her gently as she cried.
“I’ve got you, Sunshine,” her dad whispered. "I’ve got you."
Rosie must have fallen asleep at some point because when she opened her eyes, she was still on the couch, curled beneath a blanket. Her body ached—a dull, persistent throb that seemed to settle deep in her bones. Her eyes stung too, a reminder of the hours she had spent crying.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Mina's voice broke through the haze. Rosie turned her head, blinking blearily as Mina walked into the living room in a tank top and shorts covered in little lightning bolts, two steaming mugs in her hands.
“How long have I bee—” Her voice cracked, rough and worn. She grimaced.
“Only twenty minutes,” Mina reassured her, setting one of the mugs down on the coffee table. “Aizawa carried you in along with your things. Maya hasn’t left your side since.”
Rosie shifted her gaze and found her dog curled up on the opposite couch, her head resting on her paws, staring at her with unwavering focus. Maya’s eyes seemed to glow in the dim room, watchful and loyal.
“I’m sorry,” Rosie muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s late, and I just showed up... you were asleep, weren’t you?”
Mina didn’t hesitate. She crossed the room and grabbed Rosie’s shoulders, her expression serious yet gentle. “Shhh,” Mina murmured. “I was already awake. I always stay up for Kiri to get home. And I don’t care when you show up at my house—whether it’s at the crack of dawn or 3 a.m. I’m just glad you’re safe. I don’t care about anything else right now.”
That was it. Something inside Rosie snapped. The pressure that had been building all night—the fear, the helplessness, the sickening knowledge that her home had been violated—it all came crashing down at once. Her breath hitched, her chest tightening painfully as tears welled up again.
“Oh no, no, no,” Mina whispered, moving faster than Rosie could react. She set the second mug down, then knelt in front of Rosie, both hands gripping her trembling shoulders.
“I can’t…” Rosie gasped, her breathing spiraling into short, panicked bursts. Her hands shook violently as she clutched at her blanket like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
“Yes, you can,” Mina said firmly. “I’m right here. Just breathe with me, okay? In and out.”
Rosie squeezed her eyes shut, but Mina’s voice stayed steady. Her warm hands never left her shoulders, grounding her.
“In for four... that’s it... hold it... now out for four... nice and slow. Good, keep going,” Mina instructed.
Rosie followed her voice, clinging to each inhale and exhale like a lifeline. The tightness in her chest began to loosen, just a little, and the violent shaking of her hands eased. But the tears kept falling, hot and fast.
“I’m so scared,” Rosie choked out, her voice breaking. “I don’t... I don’t feel safe anywhere. I don’t... I can’t stop thinking about how long they were watching me... I... I could have been hurt... or worse...”
“I know,” Mina murmured, pulling Rosie forward. Rosie didn’t resist. She buried her face in Mina's shoulder, sobbing openly now. Mina stroked her hair, whispering reassurances in her ear.
“You’re okay now,” Mina promised. “You’re safe here. Kiri and I will make sure of it. And Katsuki? He’s losing his mind trying to figure out who’s responsible. You’re not alone, Rosie. We’re all here. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
Rosie gripped the fabric of Mina’s shirt, her knuckles white. It took minutes for her sobs to slow, and even longer for her breath to steady. When she finally pulled away, her face was blotchy and damp. Mina smiled, brushing some of her hair away from her face.
“Better?” she asked softly.
“Yeah...” Rosie croaked, her voice barely there.
“Good,” Mina said, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. “Now, you’re drinking that tea, and then you’re getting some sleep in the guest room. If you wake up in the middle of the night and need someone, you wake me up, okay? No excuses.”
Rosie swallowed hard and nodded.
For the first time since the nightmare of this day started, she didn’t feel completely alone.
Rosie woke up with a dull throb pounding inside her skull, her eyes sticky and swollen from all the crying she'd done the night before. She blinked a few times, wincing at how tender they felt, her vision still blurry. Every part of her body felt stiff, her muscles aching like she'd been wrung out and left to dry.
Slowly, she pushed herself upright, stretching her arms above her head. The faint soreness in her limbs reminded her of the villain attack, but as she glanced at her hands, she realized the bruises that had painted her skin last night were now gone. Her quirk had done its job while she slept, knitting her body back together even while her heart still felt raw and fractured.
Rubbing her face, Rosie turned her head and spotted something on her nightstand, a phone. New, sleek, and pink with a delicate butterfly charm dangling from it. Curiously, she picked it up, and the screen immediately lit up. A photo of her parents, herself, and Maya smiled back at her from the lock screen.
Her chest tightened.
A text notification glowed beneath the picture: Pomchi💖sent a text message.
Pomchi💖: Good morning doll, call me when you wake up.
Rosie pressed the call button without thinking, clutching the phone tightly in her hands. It rang once before his voice filled her ears.
“Doll?” Katsuki's voice, soft and warm, nearly undid her. She sniffed, her eyes already prickling again.
"Pomchi..."
“Fuck," he muttered, voice tight. “Doll, please don’t cry.”
Her smile wobbled, and she rubbed her damp eyes. "Where are you?"
"At the Hero Public Safety Commission," he sighed heavily. She could almost see him—tired, frustrated, probably running his hand through his hair right now.
"Pomchi..." Her voice wavered, small and unsure.
“I only just got here, doll," he said quickly, his tone softening. "I came in last night, but you were already asleep. So I stayed with you for a while... then left this morning. I went ahead and got you a new phone and took care of that cotton swab too."
“You didn’t have to do that. I could have bought the phone,” she mumbled.
“Doll," Katsuki's voice turned firm but warm, "just let me do this for you. Let me take care of you."
Her heart squeezed, tears threatening to spill again. "O-okay."
“I wish I didn’t have to leave you this morning,” he growled. “But I asked Hawks to put me on your case. Present Mic and Eraserhead are working it too.”
Rosie blinked, startled. "Wait... won’t they think it’s weird you’re on my case?"
“Nah,” Katsuki assured her. “Since I was with you when you found the camera, it makes sense for me to stay involved. Hawks said it'll make things easier for me to be around you without your stalker getting suspicious. I'm basically your bodyguard now."
Her breath hitched, everything about the situation suddenly felt too heavy, too real.
"Bodyguard..." she repeated, her voice shaking.
"Yeah," Katsuki murmured, his voice softer now. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'm sticking with you. Wherever you go, I go. Got it?"
Rosie let out a shaky breath, but it hitched again, and suddenly her chest felt too tight. Her fingers clenched the blanket as her vision blurred. Everything—the fear, the panic, the sick feeling of being watched in her own home—swelled up and crashed over her like a wave. "I..." her voice broke. "I can't—I can't do this."
“Doll... hey, breathe. Just breathe, okay?” His voice was gentle now, low and steady.
“It’s— it’s too much,” she whimpered, her breaths turning shallow. Her fingers shook, her vision swam. "I'm scared," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I feel like... like someone’s watching me right now... like they're always watching. I don’t even feel safe here."
"Hey, shh... listen to me." Katsuki’s voice dropped to a near whisper. "I’ve got you, alright? You’re safe. Nobody’s getting near you while I’m around."
“But what if they—”
“No one’s touching you,” he cut her off firmly. "You're mine, doll. No one’s fucking with you without going through me first."
His voice softened again.
"You're safe now, baby. Just close your eyes. Breathe with me."
She pressed her forehead to her knees, shaking as she tried to match her breaths to his steady words. His voice kept her grounded, his sweet reassurances weaving through her panic.
"That's it, doll... I've got you. I'm here."
“I’m sorry,” she swallowed.
“No reason to be,” Katsuki whispered. “I’m going to quickly finish up here so I can get back to you, yeah?”
“O–okay…”
“Do me a favor, yeah? Can you do that?”
She sniffed, nodding. “Yes.”
“I want you to go clean yourself up, shower, and eat something. You’ll feel much better when you do those things. I should be back by the time you do all that alright?”
“Okay,” she swallowed. “See you later.”
Rosie sat at the kitchen table, absently picking at the sandwich she had made. The bread felt dry in her mouth, each bite harder to swallow than the last. She hadn’t been hungry, but she knew she needed to eat something. Still, three bites in, her stomach churned with unease. The house was too quiet. Kirishima was on patrol, Mina was at her classes, and the silence felt like it was closing in around her. Her chest tightened.
Her phone vibrated on the table. Her Dad had texted her again, checking in, and so had Uncle Mic. She sent them both short replies, assuring them she was fine even though she didn’t feel it. They were busy, and she didn’t expect them to reply right away. She didn’t blame them. Everyone had their own lives to manage.
Even Maya’s presence, her fluffy bundle of comfort, couldn’t ease the tension twisting in her gut. The little dog had tried her best to cheer Rosie up—nosing her hand, wagging her tail—but Rosie just couldn’t muster the energy. She abandoned her sandwich and quietly retreated back to the bedroom, curling under the covers with Maya tucked against her chest.
The shadows in the room seemed darker than before. Every creak, every faint groan of the house settling felt amplified. Rosie’s skin prickled as paranoia gnawed at her. Was someone watching her now? Was her stalker still out there, somewhere close? Was she safe? Was she ever safe?
She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to focus on something else—anything else.
Her mind drifted to her mother, to memories of warmth and comfort. Whenever Rosie had a bad day at school, when the teasing and bullying had been too much, she never told anyone. She kept it to herself, not wanting to burden anyone with her weakness. But no matter how tightly she bottled those feelings, she always ended up seeking her mother’s arms in the end. She remembered curling into her mother’s lap, her mother’s soft voice singing as her fingers brushed gently through her hair.
“I love you, my little flower, my Rosie,” her mother would whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
Rosie’s grandmother had tended a vast garden filled with roses, and her mother had spent hours playing there as a child. She had always said that if she ever had a daughter, she would name her Rosie—her precious, blossoming flower.
Tears blurred Rosie’s vision. Her mother had always made her feel safe. But she wasn’t here anymore. Her mother was gone—stolen away by some freak accident that never should have happened. No warm arms to run to, no soft whispers to calm her breathing. Just emptiness.
Rosie felt herself breaking. Her chest heaved, her breathing turning shallow and quick. She clutched Maya tightly, curling her body around the small dog as if holding her close could ground her. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, and before she knew it, sobs began to wrack her body. She cried hard—deep, aching cries that left her feeling hollow and drained. Eventually, the exhaustion overtook her, and she drifted into a restless sleep.
When Rosie woke again, her head was pounding, her eyes swollen and sore. She felt heavy, as though her limbs were filled with lead. But something else was different—there was warmth surrounding her, someone’s fingers threading gently through her hair. The steady rhythm lulled her senses, grounding her in something steady and safe. Soft words murmured close to her ear, too faint to make out, but comforting nonetheless.
Blinking through the blur of her tears, she turned her head slightly. Katsuki was there, holding her close, his arm securely wrapped around her waist. His hand kept stroking her hair, his breath warm against her temple.
“Pomchi...?” Her voice cracked, barely above a whisper.
“Yeah, Doll,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’m here.”
The tears started again, but this time they felt different. Not panicked or hopeless—just overwhelming relief. She turned, burying her face in his chest. His arms tightened around her, holding her securely as he whispered soft reassurances, promising that she was safe now, that no one would ever hurt her again.
Rosie clung to Maya as though her life depended on it, her fingers twisted tightly in the dog's fur. Her breathing had grown shallow and rapid, her chest rising and falling too quickly. The room spun, the walls pressing in closer and closer until she felt like she might suffocate. Her fingers trembled, her heart pounded in her ears, and her vision blurred as black spots flickered at the corners of her eyes.
"I got you, Doll," Katsuki's voice murmured beside her, low and firm, like an anchor in the chaos. "I got you."
He was kneeling beside her, one arm wrapped around her back, the other rubbing soothing circles over her arm. Rosie knew his hands—strong, calloused, and warm—but her mind refused to register them as safe. The panic kept crawling up her throat, suffocating her in waves.
"I-I can't..." she choked, her voice barely audible.
"Shhh," Katsuki murmured, his lips brushing against her hair. "You're okay. You're safe. Just focus on my voice, alright? Breathe with me, Doll. In..."
He inhaled slowly. "...and out." He exhaled with exaggerated calm, waiting for her to follow. "Again. In... and out..."
She tried to match his breathing, but her breath still stuttered, catching painfully in her chest. Her fingers dug harder into Maya's fur.
"I can't... Katsuki..." Her voice broke, her body shaking violently.
"Yes, you can." His voice softened further, but it still carried that firm, unwavering tone he used when he refused to let her give up. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. You're safe."
He kept whispering to her, murmuring soft reassurances in between deep breaths, his hand never leaving her back. Little by little, the tightness in her chest eased, the suffocating blackness receding until she could finally pull in a full breath. Her trembling slowed. Her fingers relaxed their grip on Maya, who nuzzled closer against her side.
"That's it," Katsuki murmured. "That's my girl."
Rosie blinked, her face damp with tears as she leaned her forehead against his shoulder. "I'm sorry..."
"None of that." Katsuki's hand found her hair, threading his fingers through it with surprising tenderness. "You've got nothing to be sorry for."
Rosie sniffled, half-heartedly wiping at her face. "I don't know how to stop feeling like this."
"You don't have to do it alone," he told her softly. "I’m here, Doll. Whatever you need."
"I just..." Her voice cracked again, barely above a whisper. "I don't feel safe."
"I know." Katsuki kissed her temple. "But you will be. And I won’t let anything happen to you."
After a few more minutes of silence, Katsuki shifted slightly. "Let’s get you out of the house," he suggested quietly. "You need some fresh air."
Panic clawed at her again, fast and sudden, wrapping around her throat. Her breath hitched, and her hands trembled as she squeezed Maya tightly to her chest. "But..."
"Hey," Katsuki caught her face in his hands, cradling her cheeks. "Nothing will happen to you. I swear on my life, Doll. No one’s gonna hurt you."
"But what if..."
"No." His voice was firm now, no room for argument. "You can’t let this bastard take your life from you. You need to keep living. I know you’re scared—and you should be—but he won’t ever lay a hand on you." His thumbs brushed under her eyes, wiping away lingering tears. "You’re stronger than this. Stronger than him."
Rosie swallowed hard, clinging to his words like a lifeline. After a long moment, she gave a shaky nod. "Okay."
"That's my girl." He kissed her forehead one more time. "C'mon."
Rosie sat in Katsuki's car, her fingers twisting anxiously in her lap. No matter how hard she tried, her thoughts kept spiraling. Who had done this?Who had been watching her, invading her privacy, stealing her sense of safety? She felt sick just thinking about it. Every shadow outside the window seemed to stretch too far, every pedestrian looked too interested in her.
Her knee bounced restlessly, her hands wringing together until Katsuki's warm fingers suddenly covered her own. Rosie flinched slightly before looking down to see his hand resting over hers. He wasn’t looking at her, focused instead on the road ahead, but his hand held hers firmly, grounding her. His thumb absently brushed over her knuckles, and she instinctively laced her fingers through his.
For a few moments, she just stared at their hands. Somehow, the warmth of his palm soothed her racing mind. She focused on that instead—the solidness of him, the way his skin felt against hers. Safe. Steady. Real.
"Where are we going?" she asked quietly, her voice still hoarse from crying.
"It's a surprise," Katsuki smirked, finally glancing her way. "But trust me, you’ll like it."
She nodded, before leaning over the center console and laid her head on his arm. It was dark out, neon lights flooded into the car as they drove. Closing her eyes, she focused on the music that floated in the car and not how pathetic, weak, and useless she felt.
“Katsuki, darling…” she hummed.
“Yeah doll?”
“Thank you…for being patient with me.”
“I’m your boyfriend.” He placed a kiss to her head, "there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you."
She hid the smile that curved on her face and instead buried her face into his arm for the rest of the ride.
Rosie barely had time to process where they were before Katsuki took her hand after they stepped out of the car, his warm fingers threading tightly through hers. He gave her a gentle squeeze, grounding her, and led her toward the entrance. The bright glow of the neon sign reflected off the pavement, "Neon Golf" flashing in electric blues and pinks. Despite her nerves, she let herself be pulled along.
Inside, the lobby was awash with color. Bright greens, blues, and purples danced along the walls, the air buzzing with music and the distant sound of laughter. The atmosphere was chaotic but oddly comforting.
Katsuki kept her close, his grip steady and sure as he guided her to the counter. The woman at the register smiled brightly, greeting them with a cheerful, "Two players?"
"Yeah," Katsuki said, sliding his card across the counter. The woman handed him two golf balls, one orange and one pink, along with two putters.
"Here, Doll," Katsuki murmured, placing the pink ball in her palm. She curled her fingers around it, finding some small comfort in its smooth, solid surface.
They walked upstairs, passing small clusters of couches and tables where friends, couples, and families played their own games. Neon-lined courses snaked across the floor, glowing obstacles and colorful ramps dotting the area. Rosie glanced around, still unsure of what was happening until her eyes finally landed on a familiar sight.
Her friends were all there.
Momo, Uraraka, Izuku, and Mina stood by one of the courses, typing their names into a console. Kirishima was adjusting a glowing golf club, while Denki tried balancing a ball on his putter. Laughter spilled from their group, easy and light. Rosie blinked, trying to make sense of it all.
"Katsuki...?" she asked softly.
He smiled faintly, something rare and warm. "We're playing golf with our friends."
Before she could say anything else, they noticed her.
"Rosie!" Mina cried out, bolting toward her. The others followed, their excitement infectious. Within seconds, she was surrounded. Momo's arms wrapped tightly around her from one side, Uraraka's from the other. Kirishima ruffled her hair, and Denki gave a goofy grin as he squeezed her arm reassuringly.
"We missed you!" Izuku added with a soft smile.
"We'll protect you," Uraraka whispered, her voice determined yet gentle.
Rosie couldn’t stop the way her eyes welled up again, but this time the tears weren’t from fear or panic—they were from something warm, something safe. Katsuki stepped back, giving her space as her friends enveloped her in their embrace.
For the first time in over twenty four hours, Rosie breathed. Truly breathed.
“What did I miss?”
Everyone turned to see Shoto blinking at them, his hands shoved in his pockets. Rosie only smiled, sniffing before going to hug him too. He immediately hugged her back, patting her head softly.
“Just a group hug.”
Notes:
I based this chapter on a stalker I had back when I was living in California with an ex boyfriend, I was lucky that my ex boyfriend's dad was a cop so the whole situation was over before it became something serious but I still get paranoid when im out by myself. anyway, nothing like a loving, fawning over protective boyfriend to come to the rescue now but how long until shit hits the fan?
Chapter 63: She really wanted to just crawl into a dark hole and sleep.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Aizawa stared at the spiky-haired blond man that had once been just a boy when they first met. An arrogant, power-hungry, and fiercely driven kid with a tenacity unlike anything Aizawa had seen before.
Katsuki Bakugou.
Dynamight.
Aizawa had never grown particularly close to his past students, keeping a professional distance as he always had. That had been his method—teach them, prepare them, and let them go. But that had changed with Class 1-A. Maybe it was because they were his last class before everything spiraled into chaos. Maybe it was because they were the same age as his daughter. Or maybe it was both. Whatever the reason, Aizawa found himself unable to maintain that emotional barrier.
He loved those kids. Each and every one of them. Even the stubborn ones like Bakugou. Especially the stubborn ones like Bakugou.
After the war, Aizawa had made a conscious decision to stay close to them. To follow their paths until they finished college, regardless of whether they chose to remain as heroes or forge new lives as civilians. They deserved guidance, safety, and someone who understood the horrors they had endured at ages far too young.
And Katsuki Bakugou was one of the ones he kept the closest watch on.
Why? Because Aizawa had watched him die.
He remembered that moment with disturbing clarity—the twisted way Bakugou's body had been sprawled on the ground, the vacant expression in his half-lidded eyes, the blood soaking his uniform, draining his skin of its natural warmth and color. Shigaraki had left him mangled and lifeless, and all Aizawa could do was watch, helplessly immobilized, unable to protect the kid who had once stood so fiercely determined in front of him.
The memory haunted him, gnawed at him, reminded him how easily everything could be taken away in an instant.
Now, that same boy—now a man—stood several feet away, a furrowed frown etched into his face as he stared at his phone. Aizawa blinked.
Katsuki’s expression was tight, brow pinched, mouth drawn in a way that suggested something was bothering him.
The scowl deepened, his jaw clenched, and Aizawa knew that look well. Katsuki Bakugou’s irritation was as familiar to him as his own reflection. But before he could wonder what was troubling him, a soft chime sounded from Katsuki’s phone. Instantly, his scowl melted away, replaced by a small—barely there—smile.
Aizawa’s gaze lingered. That smile was rare, and it stayed even as Katsuki stepped away to answer the call.
"Yeah, doll?" Katsuki’s voice dropped low and warm, a tone Aizawa hadn’t heard before.
It wasn’t hard to guess what was happening—Katsuki had found someone. Someone who mattered. And Aizawa knew how much that meant. He knew just how important it was to have someone to hold on to after all they had been through. Still, he worried.
The media had been buzzing lately—flashing headlines about Dynamight, the explosive hero, the villainous hero who would take personal calls while he fought villains, would pull his phone out to text. Aizawa hated the tabloids. Hated the news. Hated how invasive they were. But still, he kept up with it. He had to. Because if someone—if anyone—tried to harm one of his kids again, he wouldn’t hesitate to intervene.
But Katsuki wasn’t his only concern. His thoughts drifted—unbidden—to Rosie. His daughter.
He had been so focused on being a teacher, on watching over his students, that he hadn’t realized how much Rosie had been suffering. How much she had been hiding. He clenched his fists as guilt settled heavily in his chest.
A stalker.
His daughter had been living in fear for months—terrified, unsure and thought herself paranoid, crazy even—and she hadn’t told him. Not until things escalated to the point where she had no choice. And he hadn’t seen the signs.
How could he have been so blind? So focused on keeping an eye on everyone else’s children that he failed to protect his own? His little girl—the one who smiled like her mother, who still found comfort in curling up on the couch beside him despite being grown—had been living in constant anxiety.
He should have noticed. He should have been there more.
But now, he would be.
Especially after seeing Rosie break down in the car. The last time she’d had a panic attack that intense, the last one he knew about—had been when Miyu died back in February. That time, the doctors had to sedate her just to get her breathing again. She had screamed and sobbed until her voice was raw, hyperventilating to the point of exhaustion. When her body finally gave out, she’d been pale and lifeless in the hospital bed, her face swollen and splotchy from endless tears. Aizawa had stayed by her side the whole time, holding her limp hand in his own, helpless and hollow.
His little girl had lost her mother.
He remembered that morning so clearly. When he broke the news, Rosie had barely reacted at first. Just... stillness. A terrible, suffocating stillness. Then came the tears, the hollow screams, the loud, gut-wrenching sobs that shook her whole body. He'd never seen her like that before, never seen her so unraveled.
He had brought Eri with him to the hospital when Rosie finally woke up. Rosie had been different that morning. Focused. Determined. Grief had hollowed her out and filled the gaps with something fierce and cold. She’d held Eri, whispering soothing words, letting the little girl cry and cry until there were no tears left. All the while, Rosie stayed dry-eyed and quiet, her face set in stone.
She never cried again after that, not that he ever saw. Instead, she threw herself into moving forward. She arranged the funeral, barely letting him help. She sold the house she’d grown up in, the house filled with memories of family movie nights and garden tea parties. She told him she was moving to Japan to attend U.A. University because there was nothing for her in America anymore.
It had been like losing her, too.
Aizawa often spoke to Miyu in his head, more now than ever. It was easier that way. Whenever the apartment was too quiet or Rosie’s laugh reminded him too much of the past, he’d close his eyes and talk to her like she was still there.
She’s so strong, he’d tell her. Too strong. You would’ve told her it’s okay to fall apart, wouldn’t you? You always knew how to comfort her better than I did.
Miyu had been the only woman he ever loved. The one who had given him a daughter who radiated warmth and light, his personal sunshine. Miyu had always believed in him, supported him, understood him even when no one else could. She had been patient with him when he didn’t know how to love her back properly. She accepted his late-night calls and restless silences, never complaining when he stumbled home late from work. Back before Rosie had been born, before she was even conceived.
He remembered the quiet moments best, the ones that slipped by too easily when you thought there’d always be more time. The nights spent whispering over coffee while Rosie slept down the hall. The way Miyu would hum under her breath when she cooked. The countless afternoons spent chasing Rosie through her grandmother’s rose garden, laughter ringing out through the air. The sleepy evenings curled on the couch, Miyu's head on his shoulder as Rosie dozed in his lap, the same movie playing for the fifth time that week.
He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. The prickle of tears burned behind his eyelids. He hadn’t cried when Miyu died. Not once. Because he couldn’t, not when Rosie needed him to be strong. But the grief never left. It gnawed at him, wore him down like the tide pulling at a rock.
I should have been there more, he thought bitterly. For her... for you... for both of you.
So many regrets. So many memories of stubborn fights and sharp words that neither of them meant. Both too young and too proud to bend when they should have. He wondered what their life could have been if he’d tried harder, if he'd been braver when it mattered. If he'd been the man Miyu deserved had he followed her to America, had made their relationship work.
He’d be a husband and Father.
“I’ll take care of her,” he whispered into the silence. I’ll keep our little girl safe. No matter what it takes.
Rosie felt lighter than she had in days. The laughter from their friends last night, the warm glow of neon lights, and the comforting presence of Katsuki by her side had soothed the ache that had been weighing her down. Now, she sat across from Momo in a cozy booth at a smoothie shop, her half-empty boba tea clutched in her hands.
Katsuki sat a few tables away, casually nursing his drink while keeping a sharp eye on her. His presence, unwavering and intense, brought her both comfort and warmth. He wasn’t just her boyfriend or her first kiss anymore—he was her protector. Her bodyguard. Her own personal grenade ready to explode on anyone who dared threaten her.
And damn, he looked good doing it.
Momo shifted nervously across from her, twirling her straw in her smoothie.
“Alright, so...” Momo started, biting her lip. “Shoto and I may have made out more than once at the party.”
Rosie smirked, brow arched. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"
Momo let out a squeak and immediately covered her face with both hands.
“Okay, fine! Fine!” Momo peeked at Rosie through her fingers. “We may have... done more than just make out.”
Rosie grinned wickedly. “Oh? How scandalous.”
“Okay, fine!” Momo groaned again, voice muffled through her hands. "We had sex."
Rosie sobered slightly. “Consensual, right? I know you two were both drunk off your asses.”
“Of course!" Momo's face was still burning red. "We sobered up first, I swear. It happened the morning after you left with Katsuki.”
Rosie took another sip of her drink, processing that. “So... are you guys...?”
Momo took a deep breath and dropped her hands to her lap. "We've decided to date... in private."
“Secretly dating?” Rosie teased, grinning.
“Yes," Momo replied firmly, blushing. "Our class is way too nosey, and Shoto and I are both private people. We've been friends for so long, and we just want to figure this out between us first. When we're comfortable... we'll tell everyone.”
That sounded awfully familiar. Rosie flicked her gaze to Katsuki again. He was still watching her, that burning intensity in his eyes sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.
“So... how was it?” Rosie asked suddenly, voice low.
Momo blinked in confusion. “How was... what?”
“The sex.” Rosie tried to sound casual but couldn't hide her mischievous grin.
Momo’s face flamed instantly, pressing her lips together, her face still scarlet. Then, with a shy smile curling her lips. “Honestly?” Momo murmured, lowering her voice. "It was amazing. Like... really amazing."
Rosie leaned in eagerly. "Yeah?"
“I don’t know how, but Shoto... he just knows a woman’s body better than most men. He's... intense, but in the best way.”
Rosie’s face started to heat up.
“He’s...” Momo toyed with her straw again, eyes distant and dreamy. "He's... possessive in bed, but not in a bad way. Just... focused. Like he's memorized exactly what I want before I even know I want it." Her voice dipped lower. "And he's so dominant... It's like he takes control of every breath you take, every noise you make. He doesn’t stop until you’re... well..." She trailed off, her entire face beet red.
Rosie covered her face in her hands, her own cheeks glowing now. "Okay, okay! I get it!"
They burst into laughter, falling into a comfortable rhythm of gossiping and giggling for the next hour before they finally said their goodbyes.
As Momo left the shop, Rosie lingered at the booth, still smiling to herself. Katsuki’s shadow loomed over her a second later. She barely had time to look up before he leaned down, lips brushing her ear.
“Hey, doll,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp that made her shiver. “You keep blushin’ like that, and I’m gonna start wonderin’ what you were talkin’ about.”
Her face flamed all over again.
"Pomchi!" she swatted at him, mortified.
He chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying her flustered state. Before she could gather herself, his hand slid into hers, fingers warm and strong as they intertwined with hers. Gently, he tugged her to her feet. “C'mon, Doll,” he murmured. “You’ve got work, yeah?”
Rosie sighed dramatically, though her heart still fluttered at how effortlessly he held her hand. "Yeah..." she grumbled.
“Good," Katsuki smirked, giving her hand a squeeze as they walked out together. “I’ll be watching."
The warm scent of cinnamon rolls and fresh bread filled the coffee shop, a comforting contrast to the storm swirling in Rosie's mind. She stood behind the counter, wiping down the register, her fingers idly fiddling with a rag. Kanako, humming softly to herself, was arranging pastries in the display case, carefully lining up rows of golden croissants and delicate fruit tarts. Shinso knelt outside the case, lazily dragging a cloth along the glass, his half-lidded gaze flicking toward Rosie every few moments.
"So..." Rosie started, her voice tight. "Something happened the other day."
Kanako paused, a blueberry scone halfway to its tray. "What happened?"
Rosie bit her lip. "I was at the grocery store, just grabbing a few things and these villains showed up out of nowhere."
Shinso stood up a little straighter, his gaze sharpening. "You okay?"
"Yeah," she said quickly. "Katsuki and other Pros showed up and took care of it. But..." Her fingers tightened around the rag. "That's not all."
Kanako placed the scone down gently, turning her full attention to Rosie. "What else happened?"
Rosie swallowed hard. "I found out I've been... I've been being stalked. For who knows how long." The words spilled out like poison she’d been holding too long.
Shinso swore under his breath. "Stalked?"
"Yeah," she whispered. "I found a camera hidden in my apartment. My own home." Her voice wavered, and she clenched the rag tighter to steady herself. "Someone’s been watching me."
Kanako hurried around the counter and wrapped her arms around Rosie, pulling her close. "Oh, Rosie..." she murmured. "That's terrifying."
"Did they find out who it is?" Shinso asked, his voice low and dangerous.
"Not yet," Rosie muttered against Kanako's shoulder. "But Hawks has my Dad and Uncle Mic are working on it... and Katsuki has been assigned as my bodyguard too."
Kanako pulled back, her hands still firm on Rosie’s arms. "I can stay over if you need me to."
"Same here," Shinso added. "No one should go through that alone."
Rosie felt the sting behind her eyes again, but she blinked hard. "Thank you, guys. Really."
“Don’t thank us,” Kanako said fiercely, her dark eyes flashing with determination. “You’re family.”
Shinso gave Rosie a rare, warm smile that softened his usual tired expression. “We’ve got you,” he added quietly but firmly.
Rosie felt her heart swell, warmth spreading through her chest. How had this happened? For twenty years, she had only known what it was like to have one friend. She had spent so much of her life alone, believing that was all she deserved. Yet here she was now, surrounded by people who genuinely cared about her. In just eight months, her life had become full of friendships, laughter, and warmth, more than she ever thought possible.
“My apartment isn’t safe anymore,” Rosie sighed, wrapping her fingers around her cup of tea. “I’ve been staying with Mina and Kirishima for now, but I’m already looking into getting a new place. I just... I really loved that apartment. It was close to work, my Dad’s place, and the university. It was my space, you know?”
Kanako paused, placing a tray of fresh pastries into the display case. “It sucks,” she agreed softly. "But you’re doing the right thing. You need to feel safe."
“Yeah,” Rosie muttered. “I just wish I knew who this stalker was... or how long they’ve been watching me."
Shinso frowned, his cleaning cloth stilling against the glass. “They’re not going to get to you, Rosie. Not with all of us watching your back.”
Rosie smiled faintly. She believed him, even if the fear still lingered deep inside her.
The next day, Rosie sat in her dad’s class, exhausted and barely holding herself together. She cradled a cup of coffee in her hands, fighting the relentless pull of sleep. Her usual spot in the row directly in front of Katsuki was her comfort zone, but today it felt impossible to focus.
She stifled a yawn, her eyes burning as she scribbled down notes that she doubted would make much sense when she read them later. Her hand kept slowing, her eyelids growing heavier by the second.
It was her own fault. She and Katsuki had stayed on the phone way too late last night, whispering back and forth until their voices had grown heavy with exhaustion. He had gone home after walking her to Mina and Kirishima’s place, but called her shortly after to make sure she was okay. What started as a quick check-in turned into a two-hour conversation filled with teasing, laughter, and quiet confessions. Somewhere in the middle of his voice rambling about some explosive recipe he was working on, Rosie had drifted off, her phone still clutched in her hand.
Now she was paying for it.
She shifted in her seat, yawning deeply, only to feel something tap the back of her chair. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Katsuki looking at her with narrowed eyes. His brows furrowed in concern as he flicked his gaze to her half-empty coffee cup.
“Oi,” he muttered lowly, just loud enough for her to hear. “Don’t push yourself too hard.”
“I’m fine,” Rosie murmured back, her voice barely above a whisper.
Katsuki scoffed. “You’re nodding off, dumbass. Drink more coffee.”
Despite her exhaustion, a small smile tugged at her lips.
“Yes, sir,” she teased quietly before taking another sip of her coffee. It was lukewarm now, but she didn’t care.
As the lecture droned on, she felt her eyes drift closed again. Her mind floated, her body heavy as she sank further back into her seat, she glanced at the time to see it was only nine, she still had another hour of lecture left.
Yanking the long sleeves of her sweater, she crossed onto the desk and buried her face down into it. Luckily, this was her Dad’s class and he would let her sleep.
She really wanted to just crawl into a dark hole and sleep.
Notes:
I kinda feel bad for what I'm about to do to Rosie, but I will say that what is about to happen, I suggest that you all start reading the referenced chapters that I have tagged as I will start typing this story to the original one and there will be flashbacks or rather "memories"
Chapter 64: I'm going to die a virgin, aren't I?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Days slipped by in a blur of cold winds and shorter daylight hours, yet Rosie refused to let the darkness seep into her spirit. Her smile remained bright, her laughter light, and her sunny disposition unwavering. But beneath the surface, fear lingered—a quiet paranoia that whispered in her mind when she was alone. Still, she clung to her routine like a lifeline, finding comfort in its structure.
Every morning began with Mina’s cheerful chatter and Kirishima’s booming laugh as they all left for class. After their morning lectures, they’d sit together for lunch, Katsuki joining them just in time to silently claim the seat beside her. He always lingered longer than necessary, walking her to her chemistry class like it was his personal mission. When class ended, he was always there, waiting outside the door, sharp-eyed and protective. From there, he took her to work, posted himself nearby, and ensured she was safely delivered back to Mina and Kirishima’s apartment after her shift.
It was safe. Controlled. Reassuring.
But also suffocating.
The monotony itched beneath her skin, gnawed at her resolve. She needed something different—a change, a spark—anything to distract from the fear she kept buried.
Which was why she now stood in front of Katsuki, nervously twisting her fingers. He sat on the edge of her bed, arms crossed over his chest, one brow quirked as he studied her with faint amusement.
“How long are you gonna stand there, doll?” he drawled, voice low and lazy.
“I want to go to the party tonight,” she said in a rush, her words tumbling over one another.
Katsuki’s face shifted instantly, amusement wiped away and replaced by a sharp frown. His jaw clenched, crimson eyes narrowing.
“Baby, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Please?” Rosie softened her voice, tipping her head to the side, her eyes wide and pleading.
His lips parted like he wanted to refuse outright, but then he paused. His gaze darkened, his teeth worrying his bottom lip as his fingers flexed against his bicep. Rosie knew that look—he was weighing the risk. The stubborn set of his jaw told her he wanted to argue, but he was also considering her request.
Finally, Katsuki let out a heavy sigh, raking a hand through his hair. “Fine,” he said gruffly.
Rosie grinned.
“On one condition,” he added, voice dropping an octave. His eyes pinned her in place.
“Yes?” she asked eagerly.
“You don’t leave my side. Not even for a second. Understand?” His voice brooked no argument.
“Yes, yes, of course! Thank you!” Without warning, she launched herself at him, practically tackling him back onto the bed.
“Whoa, hey!” Katsuki barked in surprise as they tumbled back together. Rosie’s arms looped around his neck, her face nuzzling into his chest as she giggled.
“You’re the best,” she mumbled against his shirt before peppering his face with kisses—along his jaw, his cheeks, his forehead, and finally landing on his lips.
Katsuki groaned beneath her, his hand sliding up her back to press her closer.
“You’re real lucky I’m crazy about you,” he muttered, voice rough and warm.
Before Rosie could answer, Maya— the excitable ball of fur— leapt onto the bed, yipping excitedly. She danced across their tangled limbs, paws digging into Katsuki’s side as she tried to wriggle between them.
“Maya, no! C’mon girl, down,” Rosie laughed, attempting to fend her off.
Katsuki snorted, lips twitching as Maya pawed relentlessly at his face.
“This dog’s got no chill,” he grumbled.
“She just wants in on the fun,” Rosie giggled, finally scooping the tiny dog into her arms and settling her off to the side.
Katsuki propped himself up on his elbow, gaze still locked on Rosie. Reaching out, he tucked a stray curl behind her ear and let his fingers linger against her cheek.
“Do you even have your costume?” He asked with a raised brow
She nodded, “yes, Mina was kind enough to go to my apartment for me.”
Moving away from him, she moved to the small bathroom connected to the guest room. She immediately started pulling all her makeup out.
Standing, Katsuki stretched. “I’ll leave you to get ready,” he came into the bathroom and kissed her forehead. “I will see you at the party.”
“See you later,” she hummed into the kiss.
Rosie stepped out of the backseat, her heels crunching against the gravel driveway. Mina and Kirishima followed suit, stepping out into the crisp autumn air. The front yard stretched before them, packed with cars lining the cobblestone path that led up to a massive mansion shrouded in shadow. The dying sunlight barely pierced through the skeletal trees that bordered the property, their twisted branches resembling skeletal fingers reaching for the sky.
The mansion itself was an unsettling sight—a towering Victorian beast with darkened windows like unblinking eyes. The ivy that clung to its walls seemed to writhe in the fading light, while tattered curtains billowed from a cracked window on the second floor. Rusty lanterns flickered on the porch, their dim glow barely illuminating the carved pumpkins with twisted, grotesque faces that lined the steps. The faint sound of muffled music throbbed from within, distorted and warped as though the walls themselves were alive and breathing.
“Wow,” Rosie whispered, shivering.
“Oooo! I’m so excited!” Mina squealed, looping her arm through Rosie’s with a bright grin that contrasted the sinister backdrop. “Shiketsu always goes all out with their Halloween parties. They’ve got a haunted house set up in the back, and someone runs through the woods with a chainsaw to chase people down!”
Rosie grimaced, her gaze flicking toward the shadowy trees where distant screams rang out, sharp and panicked. The faint buzz of a chainsaw followed, revving wildly before being drowned out by bursts of drunken laughter. The eerie contrast made her shiver harder.
“How lovely,” she muttered.
Kirishima threw his arm over her shoulders, a warm and reassuring weight. “Don’t worry, you won’t be participating in that.” His shark-toothed grin flashed. “But they’ve got games and other cool stuff too."
“Like what?” Rosie asked, her curiosity flickering despite her unease.
“Bobbing for apples, pumpkin smashing with bats…" Kirishima pumped his fist excitedly. “I’m gonna beat my score from last year.”
A blood-curdling scream from deeper inside the mansion made Rosie jump. Through the cracked front door, shadowy figures swayed in flashes of neon light while twisted Halloween decorations cast disorienting silhouettes against the walls. Black cobwebs hung in thick sheets from the ceiling, and a figure dressed in bloodied rags skulked across the hallway just past the door, dragging a rusted axe behind him. His empty stare seemed to lock on Rosie for a second too long before he turned and disappeared into the house.
Kirishima chuckled at her startled expression. “Don’t worry, Rosie. We’ve got you covered. Nothing scary is gonna happen to you, I promise.”
Rosie took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax. “You guys don’t have to babysit me,” she said softly, though her fingers clenched Mina’s arm a little tighter. “But I do appreciate it.”
The three of them walked together toward the mansion's yawning entrance. As they crossed the threshold, the air seemed colder inside, the faint scent of copper lingering beneath the artificial fog that swirled along the floor. The music throbbed louder now, pounding in time with Rosie’s pulse. Flickering strobe lights cast distorted shadows on the walls, and from somewhere upstairs, another scream pierced the air—high-pitched and terrified.
Mina squeezed Rosie’s arm reassuringly. “We’ve got you,” she murmured with a smile.
Rosie mustered a smile in return, stepping further into the mansion as the heavy door creaked closed behind them. She allowed both Mina and Kirishima to pull her towards the kitchen, which she was eager to get alcohol in her system as it would definitely help her loosen up.
Once inside the large kitchen that was decorated to look like a witches lair, with cauldrons bubbling over with spiked punch and several other concoctions. She grabbed a red solo cup and immediately tried the sparkly pink liquid, trying it. It had a sweet taste of strawberry, cream and something else she couldn’t put her finger on.
The music pounded around her, the bass thumping hard enough to make the floor beneath her heels vibrate. The air smelled faintly of pumpkin spice, sweat, and something smoky. Halloween decorations clung to the walls, fake cobwebs stretched across corners, plastic skeletons hanging limp by strings, and flickering jack-o'-lanterns casting warped grins against the wallpaper. Despite the party’s energy, there was something cold curling at the back of her neck, a chill that hadn’t left her since they walked through the mansion’s massive front doors.
Mina and Kirishima laughed beside her, but their voices barely cut through the noise. Rosie finished pouring her drink, filling the cup almost to the brim, before turning to follow them. As she entered the next room with chandeliers above that burned colored fire, the whole room was bathed in red, she felt small as people walked to and from, drinks in hand, talking and laughing dressed in all their costumes. She felt her phone vibrate against her thigh in the garter belt she wore. Frowning, she pulled it out and stared at the screen.
Unknown Number.
Her thumb hovered over the decline button, but curiosity, or something else, got the better of her. Slowly, she pressed 'Answer' and lifted the phone to her ear.
Rosie pressed her phone tighter to her ear.
“Hello?”
For a moment, all she heard was silence. Heavy, thick silence—like someone was holding their breath on the other end. Then, a voice, low and cold, crawled through the receiver, smooth as velvet yet dark as smoke.
“Nice costume, Rosie,” the voice drawled, deep and slow.
She froze. The hairs on her neck stood on end, her breath hitching. Her fingers tightened around the phone.
“Who is this?” she demanded, her voice sharper than she felt.
The voice chuckled—low, gravelly, and far too amused. “You looked real cute at the drink table,” he murmured. “Color really suits you.”
Her stomach knotted. Her fingers tugged at the hem of her dress, as if adjusting it would somehow make her feel less exposed.
“I can see you,” the voice whispered, softer now, almost teasing. “You should’ve picked something less... revealing. Not that I’m complaining. I can’t wait to take each piece off of you... kiss every inch of that pretty skin of yours.”
Heat flashed through her—not just fear, but something else. A strange mix of dread and excitement coiling tightly in her stomach. Her breath faltered. She spun in place, eyes darting across the crowd. Neon lights strobed over masked faces, bodies swaying to the pulse of the music. She couldn’t tell who was looking at her, but she felt it. Eyes locked on her, watching, drinking her in.
“Stop messing with me,” she swallowed, voice shaking despite her best effort.
“I’m not messing with you, doll,” the voice purred, slower now, dangerously smooth. “I’m just getting started.”
Her pulse pounded in her ears.“Where are you?” she asked breathlessly, the voice all too familiar as it set her blood on fire.
“You know the rules,” he said, voice curling like smoke. “I gotta ask... what’s your favorite scary movie?”
Rosie swallowed hard, nerves twisting in her gut. “Uh... Halloween,” she blurted. “The original one. Michael Myers, you know? Classic.”
He chuckled again, deeper this time, like she amused him. “Good choice,” he drawled. “A girl with taste.” There was a pause, like he was savoring her answer. “I think I’d like you screaming for me... just like the girls in those movies.”
Rosie’s breath stuttered, heat flashing down her spine. The weight of his words was heavy, seductive in a way that made her shiver.
“You scared, baby?” he murmured.
“Should I be?” she shot back, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Maybe,” he hummed. “But maybe... you like this.” His voice dipped low, dark and rich like smoke curling around her.
Heat curled low in her stomach, sharp and unexpected. Her pulse raced, and she hated how breathless she sounded when she asked, “What do you want?”
“Go to the dance floor,” he instructed. “You’ll find me there. I’m in the center.”
The line went dead. Rosie’s heart pounded in her chest as she lowered the phone. For a moment, she stood frozen, unsure if she should go. Rosie lingered, pulse hammering in her ears. The rational side of her screamed that this was dangerous. But a different part of her, the part that felt a rush of reckless excitement, refused to turn away.
Weaving through the crowd, she stepped into the heart of the dance floor. Fog swirled around her ankles, thick and heavy. Lights flashed in bursts of red and violet, slicing through the shadows. And then she saw him.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. A Ghostface mask concealed his face, but his stance exuded quiet confidence. Dressed in a tight black shirt that clung to his muscles, black combat pants tucked into sturdy boots, and a gun holster strapped across his chest with knives lining his belt. His head tilted slightly when he spotted her. He lifted his phone to his ear.
Hers buzzed in her hand again.
“Doll,” his voice purred in her ear.
Rosie swallowed hard. He was... devastatingly attractive, even with the mask. Her skin prickled, her breath coming quicker.
“Be a good girl and come closer,” he murmured.
Her stomach flipped.
“Katsuki, darling?” she called.
He moved faster than she expected. His hand wrapped around her neck, warm and firm, dragging her closer until she was flush against him. His thumb brushed along her throat in lazy circles, a silent reminder of his control. Her heart slammed in her chest.
“Do this for me?” His voice was softer now, coaxing.
His free hand toyed with the hem of her dress, tugging it slightly higher. Rosie flushed. She had dressed like a doll tonight, frilly, lacy, and all in pink, white and red, just for him. A sexy version of what he always called her with adoration and affection.
“You’re perfect,” he muttered through the mask, fingers tracing the curve of her waist. “All mine.”
“You nearly scared me,” Rosie pouted, her tone light yet teasing, which only seemed to make him chuckle lowly.
“My girl is much too strong for that,” Katsuki cooed, his hand moving off her neck to grasp her face instead, firm yet tender. His fingers pressed into her cheeks, pursing her lips just slightly.
Raising his mask enough to reveal his mouth, he claimed her lips with a force that left her breathless. The kiss was hungry, dominating, and intense—the kind of kiss only Katsuki could give. She whimpered when his teeth caught her bottom lip, forcing her to open for him. His tongue invaded her mouth, hot and demanding, curling around hers in a way that had her gripping his gun holster for support. She rose to her toes, pressing closer, craving more of him, not wanting even an inch of space between them.
It wasn’t until she started feeling faint that Katsuki pulled away. A thin strand of saliva lingered between their lips, glistening in the low light. Rosie gasped for air, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Katsuki didn’t let her go. Instead, he dragged her flush against him, his face only centimeters from hers.
“That was hot,” she murmured, her breath still ragged.
He chuckled, low and pleased. “I don’t doubt it. Got inspiration from those very descriptive books of yours.”
“Maybe we should redo this whole scenario later,” she purred, voice dropping lower.
“Fuck,” he muttered, voice rougher now. “Anything for you, doll.” His hand slipped beneath the hem of her dress and smacked her ass, making her yelp and laugh softly. Then his fingers paused, pressing firmly against her bare skin. His voice dipped even lower. “No panties?”
Rosie swallowed hard, her gaze lowering as she licked her lips. “I forgot to ask Mina to bring them from my apartment.”
His grip on her tightened. “Your ass is staying on me, in my lap. Yeah?”
“Yes, sir,” she breathed, thighs pressing together.
Katsuki cleared his throat, forcing himself to pull his hand away. “Let’s go with the others.”
He kept a firm grip on her wrist as he guided her through the crowd. The warmth of his touch was grounding, but Rosie couldn’t ignore the lingering heat burning low in her stomach. Outside, the cool night air hit her like a splash of ice water, but it wasn’t enough to snuff out the fire Katsuki had stoked.
Lights blinked and flickered along game booths set up like a festival. The haunted house loomed in the distance, jagged and dark with screams echoing from within. Further right were several large bonfires surrounded by groups of friends chatting, drinking, and laughing. TVs near the fire pits played classic horror movies, flickering images dancing across the smoke-filled air.
Katsuki led her to a cozy corner where their friends sat. Momo and Shoto were together, Momo dressed as an angel and Shoto as a gangster. Kaminari and Jirou were dressed as killer clowns, laughing loudly as they clinked drinks together.
Rosie moved to sit, but Katsuki grabbed her waist and yanked her straight into his lap.“K-Katsuki!” she squeaked, wide-eyed.
“There aren’t any more chairs,” he said flatly, as if that justified everything. He leaned back, one arm wrapped securely around her waist while his fingers lazily traced patterns along her thigh.
Momo smiled. “You look gorgeous, Rosie.”
“Thank you,” Rosie murmured, still flushed. “I see I wasn’t the only one to bring multiple outfits.”
“Momo likes to shop,” Shoto added dryly, earning chuckles from the group.
Rosie sipped her drink, listening quietly to their conversation. The warmth of Katsuki’s hand moving up and down her spine lulled her into a comfortable haze. The alcohol coursing through her veins only added to the relaxed, dizzy sensation. It had been dark for a while when she finished her drink, she pouted.
“Want another?” Katsuki murmured into her ear, his lips brushing her skin.
She nodded. “Yes, please.”
“Do you wanna try the games?”
“I do.”
His hand fell away, leaving her cold in his absence. “Up, pretty girl.”
Rosie rose to her feet, and Katsuki followed, taking her cup with him as he left. Curling up in the chair, Rosie turned her attention to the horror movie playing on the TV. By the time the climax hit, Katsuki returned with her drink.
“Which one do you wanna try?” he asked.
“The balloon darts,” she beamed. “I want the little cat set.”
The booth attendant handed over the five darts, quickly explained the game before stepping out of the way. She nailed every blue balloon which were the ones with the high points, she still had one dart left.
“How are you good at that?”
Rosie smiled, “you really think my Dad didn’t teach me anything? He put me in dagger throwing classes, taught me some self defense, and taught me how to use that scarf of his. Back when I wanted to be a pro hero.”
“Why not anymore?” Katsuki asked as she fiddled with the last dart in her hands.
“I never felt like it was right for me and I only wanted to do it so Dad and I could be pro hero’s together.” She smiled, “I even came up with our team name and my hero name.”
“Oh yeah?” He hummed, “which is?”
“My hero name would be..” she trailed off right before she aimed the dart and threw it at the blue balloon and she cheered, jumping up and down.
Katsuki immediately stopped her as he grabbed her hips, she frowned.
“Trying to flash everyone, doll?” He asked, causing her to blush.
“Sorry,” she flashed him a sheepish smile before turning to the booth attendant.
“Can I have that cat set?” The man handed over the pink cat ear headband with a matching choker bell, Rosie immediately donned on the set before posing. “How does it look?”
Katsuki swallowed hard, fingers flicking the bell. His voice turned gravelly. “We’re definitely revisiting this costume later. Alone.”
Rosie giggled, taking another drink to soothe the heat rushing to her face. “Let’s go play some other games.”
Hours later, Rosie needed to use the bathroom. Katsuki had been roped into a pumpkin-smashing contest with Kirishima, reluctant to leave her until Rosie promised she’d stick with Mina.
“Stay with the girls,” he muttered, voice low in her ear. “Don’t wander off, and don’t bend over unless it’s in front of me.” He nipped her earlobe before disappearing with Kirishima, leaving her flustered and grinning as Mina dragged her inside.
After leaving the bathroom, Rosie joined Mina in the dimly lit ballroom. Fog snaked along the floor, and cool air nipped at her skin. Rosie danced, her body swaying to the rhythm. Her hands glided over her body, tracing her curves as her head tilted back. The alcohol buzzed in her veins, warming her to her fingertips. Her skin tingled, the night’s excitement making her pulse race.
Then she felt a sharp pain in her arm, before something rammed into her causing her to stagger before catching herself from falling. “Oh my gosh!” She heard a giggle from a girl, a redhead in a mask, “I’m super sorry,” she slurred her words.
Rosie shook her head, “no need, it’s a party.”
“You should participate in the costume contest!” She giggled, “it’s outside, you’d totally win!”
Mina clapped her hands, “oh we totally should. Where is it?”
“I can show you, follow me!”
Rosie and Mina hooked arms with the girl as they followed her outside, the cold night air a soothing comfort as they followed the girl towards the haunted house but beside it was nestled a small stage where people were signing up.
She staggered, Mina frowned. “You go sit down and I’ll sign us up.”
The night air bit at Rosie’s skin as she sat in the chair, her head feeling heavier by the second. Her eyelids drooped, her thoughts drifting in and out like static on a broken TV. The distant chatter of the crowd became muffled, as though she were underwater.
“You good?” Mina’s voice cut through the haze, faint but worried.
Rosie blinked hard, trying to focus. “Yeah... just tired.” Her tongue felt thick, her words sluggish.
“We’re almost up,” Mina reassured her, though concern pinched her brow. “I’ll go first—you’re better at big entrances anyway.” She shot Rosie a wink before stepping forward to join the others at the stage.
Rosie tried to shake the fog in her head. Her body felt too cold, yet sweat clung to her skin. Something wasn’t right—her heart pounded too fast, her limbs felt heavy. She rubbed her arm absently, frowning at the dull ache. Did I drink too much?
Before she could finish the thought, a hand grabbed her wrist.
“What the—?” Rosie gasped, twisting in her chair—but before she could see who it was, something cold and sharp pressed against her scalp, just behind her ear. A sudden, sharp pain shot through her skull like a needle stabbing deep.
The world blurred.
Colors swam in her vision, dark shapes twisting like smoke. Voices faded in and out—laughter, music, the dull roar of the crowd—then silence swallowed everything whole.
Rosie woke to darkness. Cold, suffocating darkness.
Her body ached, her head throbbing painfully. For a moment, she lay still, her breath shallow as she tried to piece together where she was. The air smelled stale—like dust, old wood, and something sharp and metallic.
Where am I?
The sound of distant footsteps made her freeze. Heavy boots—slow, deliberate—thudding against the floor. Then, a sound that made her stomach turn: Rrrrrrrr-RRREEEEEEV!
The unmistakable growl of a chainsaw.
Panic crashed over her like a tidal wave. Her chest tightened, breath coming fast and shallow. Her fingers scrambled for her phone that rested on her garter—her only lifeline. The screen lit up, her shaking hands fumbling to unlock it.
NO SERVICE.
“No, no, no...” Rosie whimpered. Her fingers trembled as she tried again. Still nothing. Her breath hitched, heart hammering so fast it hurt.
She was alone. Somewhere inside the haunted house. And someone was in here with her. I have to move. I have to get out of here, she thought as she tried to focus.
Forcing air into her lungs, she pushed herself up. Her legs wobbled beneath her, her vision swimming. The disorientation from whatever had happened still clung to her, making her limbs feel sluggish and her thoughts unfocused. She pressed her palm to her chest, forcing herself to count her breaths.
In... out... in... out...
The distant rev of the chainsaw growled to life again—closer this time.
Rosie staggered forward, her hands outstretched as she stumbled blindly through the dark. Her fingers brushed along the wall—cool and uneven, like splintered wood. She could barely make out faint slivers of light ahead, flickering like candle flames.
The haunted house. She was inside the haunted house.
This is all part of the act, she told herself, clinging to the idea like a lifeline. It’s just a Halloween prank. It's not real. It's not—
The chainsaw roared again—closer now.
Rosie’s breath hitched, her body locking up. Her skin prickled like ice water had been poured down her back. Her chest tightened painfully, her breathing sharp and fast.
I'm going to pass out...
“No,” she whispered harshly, clutching her arms tightly. She forced her thoughts to slow. Katsuki. I need to get to Katsuki.
She stumbled forward, focusing on the flickering light ahead. The floor groaned beneath her steps, and every sound—every creak, every distant whisper of movement—made her heart pound louder. Her legs felt weak, but she pressed on.
The hallway opened into a larger room—a twisted, nightmarish space bathed in flickering red light. Mangled mannequins hung from the ceiling, their plastic faces twisted in silent screams. Crimson paint streaked the walls in chaotic smears. A narrow path wound through rusted cages and overturned tables.
Rosie pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out the distant sound of music still faintly bleeding in from the party outside.
A shadow shifted in the corner of the room.
RRRRRRR-RRREEEEEEEV!
The chainsaw roared to life—loud, sharp, and far too close. Rosie’s breath shot out in a choked gasp, her body jerking into motion on instinct.
She ran.
The room blurred around her as she bolted down a narrow hallway. The floor seemed to tilt beneath her feet, her balance faltering as she stumbled against the walls. Something scraped behind her—heavy boots dragging against the floor.
“Katsuki... please...” Her voice shook as she choked back a sob.
A doorway loomed ahead, light spilling faintly through the cracks. Rosie lunged for it, slamming her shoulder against the wood. It groaned under her weight—stuck.
“No, no, no—!”
The chainsaw revved again—deafening now, so close she swore she could feel the vibration of it in her ribs.
With a desperate scream, Rosie shoved the door again. It burst open, and she tumbled forward, crashing onto cold concrete. She gasped for air, coughing violently as she clawed her way forward.
The chainsaw sputtered... then stopped.
Rosie lay still, her body trembling violently. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she gulped down air. The silence was suffocating, but she didn’t dare move.
Please... please let me get out of here...
Forcing herself to her feet, Rosie staggered down the corridor. Each step felt like dragging her legs through cement, her muscles burning from the effort. The air felt too thin, her chest heaving with shallow breaths. Her mind raced, her pulse hammering in her ears.
Get to Katsuki. Just get to Katsuki...
“You think you can escape?”
The voice froze her in place. It slithered from the shadows, low and distorted, like a whisper pressed too close to her ear. She spun, trying to find the source, but the flickering lights and twisted maze of hallways left her disoriented.
“Stupid bitch,” the voice sneered again. “What made you think you could be anyone else’s... when you’re already mine?”
Rosie’s breath stopped. Her body locked up, her fingers digging into the wall to steady herself.
No… no... nononono… It couldn’t be. Not him. Not here.
The voice chuckled, a deep and twisted sound that crawled beneath her skin. “Better run, bitch... because when I find you...”
The chainsaw roared to life, deafening and sharp.
Rosie bolted.
Her vision blurred as she stumbled forward, feet pounding against the creaking floor. The walls twisted and closed in on her, shadows flickering wildly as she ran. The chainsaw snarled behind her, closing the distance far too quickly.
“Run faster!” the voice jeered.
Rosie tripped over a loose floorboard, her knee striking the ground hard. Pain flared up her leg, but she barely noticed. Adrenaline roared through her veins as she clawed her way back to her feet. She didn’t have time to think, only to move.
Her heart slammed against her ribs as she twisted down a narrow hallway. The sound of the chainsaw revving louder, closer, kept her legs moving even when her muscles screamed for rest.
A door appeared at the end of the corridor, the exit sign glowing faintly above it.
I can make it... just a little further...
Rosie lunged for the door, fingers outstretched—CRASH!
The door burst open before she could reach it. He stood there, a towering figure in a bloodied apron and dark, stained clothes. His broad frame filled the doorway, and in his gloved hand, the chainsaw sputtered to life, the chain gleaming with fresh oil.
“Thought you could sneak past me?” his voice dripped with amusement, muffled slightly by the hockey mask that covered his face. His head tilted, and even through the mask, she swore he was smiling.
Rosie staggered back a step, her chest rising and falling in ragged gasps.
“I’ll give you a head start,” he sneered. The chainsaw let out a guttural RRRRRRRRREEEEEEEV, loud enough to rattle her bones.
Her breath hitched. Her feet moved before her mind caught up.
She turned and sprinted through the door, straight into the cold night air. The chill slapped her face, sharp and biting. Tears spilled down her cheeks as her breath came in panicked bursts.
Keep running. Don’t stop. Don’t look back.
Branches whipped at her arms as she stumbled deeper into the woods. The uneven ground twisted beneath her feet, rocks and roots threatening to trip her with every step. Her lungs burned, her chest squeezing tighter and tighter, but she couldn’t stop.
Behind her, the chainsaw’s growl echoed through the trees. Closer. Closer.
“You’re not getting away from me!” he snarled.
Rosie’s vision blurred with tears. Her breath tore from her throat in ragged sobs, but she forced her legs to keep moving.
Please... please just let me make it back...
Her foot caught on a root, and she hit the ground hard, her palms scraping against rough bark and dirt. The sting barely registered as she gasped for air, her head spinning.
The chainsaw sputtered again, close enough now that she swore she could feel the heat from it.
Rosie scrambled to her feet, kicking off her heels, before pushing her battered body forward. The dark forest seemed endless, trees twisting together like a wall of thorns, no sign of safety in sight.
“You’re MINE!” the voice bellowed.
Rosie bit back a sob, tears blinding her as she stumbled through the trees. The night air clawed at her skin, her dress torn and clinging to her sweat-soaked body. She tried to think positively but it was hard when all she could hear was him closing the distance between them. Then a sobering startling thought crossed her mind,
I'm going to die a virgin, aren't I?
Notes:
omg I had to split this chapter into two...anyway things will only get worse from here :)
Chapter 65: You’re waking up faster than you did last time...how interesting.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Her vision blurred, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she stumbled through the damp forest. Each gulp of air stung her chest, her muscles burning from the relentless pace. Adrenaline surged through her veins, but her body was beginning to fail her. The uneven forest floor twisted beneath her steps, slick with dew and hidden roots snaking beneath the fog.
Just keep running. Keep moving. Don’t stop...
The chainsaw’s roar had faded into the distance, but she knew better than to think she was safe. The forest seemed endless—an oppressive wall of trees swallowing her whole. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, drowning out everything else.
Then her foot caught in a hidden hole.
Her ankle twisted sharply, a sickening pop echoing through her bones. Pain flared hot and vicious, like fire searing through her leg. Rosie screamed, her voice hoarse and ragged. She crumpled to the ground, her knees slamming hard into the dirt. The impact jarred her bones, sending sharp pain shooting up her arms as her palms scraped against rocks and splintered twigs.
“No... no, no...” she whimpered, tears spilling down her face. She tried to crawl, dragging herself forward despite the agony radiating from her ankle.
Then fingers tangled in her hair—hard and unforgiving.
“No!” Rosie shrieked, her scalp burning as her head was yanked back. Her neck strained painfully, her vision swimming as she was dragged to her knees.
“Gotcha,” his voice rasped, low, smug, and all too familiar.
Her breath hitched, fear slamming into her chest like a hammer. She clawed at his wrist, nails scraping against his skin, but his grip only tightened.
“Let me go!” she sobbed, her voice breaking.
He yanked her head back harder, her body arching painfully. Then he slammed his knee between her shoulder blades, forcing her face-down into the dirt. Her cry was muffled by the cold, damp earth.
“I told you,” his voice sneered above her. “You’re already mine.”
The weight on her back crushed her ribs, making it impossible to draw a full breath. She thrashed beneath him, clawing wildly at the ground, her fingers digging furrows in the dirt.
Please... someone...
“KATSUKI!” she screamed, her voice strangled and desperate.
The knee lifted—but before she could move, he grabbed her by the collar of her dress and wrenched her onto her back. The air rushed from her lungs as she hit the ground hard, pain bursting in her ribs and spine.
“P–please,” she begged, her voice trembling. “Please... leave me alone...”
His gloved hand shot out, pinning her wrist to the ground. She fought, flailing her free arm and managing to land a desperate punch against his face. The strike barely rocked him, but his head turned sharply to the side. For a moment, she thought she’d stunned him.
Then his hand balled into a fist, and he drove it into her face.
Pain exploded through her skull—hot and sharp—and her mouth filled with the copper tang of blood. Stars burst behind her eyes, her vision spinning.
Through the haze, she felt something press against her neck—cold and sharp.
The prick of a needle.
“No... no... no...” she whimpered, thrashing weakly beneath him.
“Shhh...” he mocked, pressing the plunger down.
The cold rush of liquid spread through her veins, numbing her limbs almost instantly. Her arms felt heavy—her fingers sluggish as she tried to reach for him again. Her legs refused to move. The world around her swayed and distorted, her vision tunneling as her strength bled away.
Through her dimming vision, she saw him looming above her—that bloodstained apron, the dark clothes soaked in grime... and that mask. That awful, expressionless hockey mask that swallowed his face whole.
“K...Katsuki...” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Tears blurred her vision, her mind clinging to the image of him—his scowl, his warmth, the way his arms always felt like home.
Please... find me... please...
Her fingers twitched, reaching out into the cold night air—reaching for him.
Then the darkness swallowed her whole.
Katsuki stood triumphant, grinning smugly as the leaderboard flickered with his name at the top. Pumpkin Smasher King—he’d obliterated the high score in record time, explosions shattering the orange mess like confetti. His chest swelled with pride, but the victory felt hollow. Something tugged at him—an itch in the back of his mind he couldn’t shake.
“I’m gonna go look for Rosie,” he grunted, already turning to leave.
“I’ll come with you,” Kirishima offered, flashing a grin. “I wanna see Mina try her luck with the pumpkins anyway.”
Katsuki didn’t respond, already walking ahead. He didn’t need company; he needed her. He wanted to find his girlfriend—his doll. His sexy, sweet, oblivious girlfriend, decked out in that frilly pink, red and white dress. He could still picture her adjusting the garter on her thigh earlier, her heels clicking on the floor as she twirled for him with a teasing smile. The cat ears, the collar, she had no idea how insane she drove him.
Next time I see her... his hands clenched at his sides, thinking of all the ways he’d tease her back for putting him through this.
But his annoyance deepened when they reached the ballroom, and she wasn’t there. “Where the hell is she?” Katsuki snapped, pushing past dancers as his irritation turned to unease.
“Todoroki?” Kirishima called out when they spotted him near the entrance.
“I’m looking for Momo,” Todoroki said flatly.
“We’re looking for Mina and Rosie,” Kirishima added.
Katsuki didn’t stick around to hear the rest. He pushed forward, practically shoving people aside. The moment he spotted Uraraka and the others, his nerves started buzzing.
“Where’s Mina and Rosie?”
Tsuyu tapped her chin thoughtfully. “They went to the costume contest outside, by the haunted house.”
His stomach twisted. Outside. Alone. His heart thudded harder. “Shit,” he muttered, shoving his way out the door with Kirishima hot on his heels.
The chill hit him like a slap, but he barely felt it. His sharp red eyes scanned the stage, the crowd, the darkened corners by the haunted house, no sign of her.
“Where the hell is sh—”
A scream cut through the night. It was raw and shrill, ripping through the air like claws on glass. Katsuki’s blood turned ice cold.
“Rosie...” he breathed.
He bolted.
People crowded around something near the stage, and Katsuki didn’t hesitate, he shoved his way through with no concern for the complaints or curses thrown his way. When he broke through, his stomach dropped. Mina lay crumpled on the ground, her breathing shallow, her face pale and dazed.
“MINA!” Kirishima cried, falling to his knees beside her. “Baby, what happened? What’s wrong?”
“A-attacked...” Mina coughed weakly, blood trickling from her bruised nose. “Rosie... woods... help her...” Her words slurred, her eyes fluttering closed.
“She’s been drugged,” Kirishima snapped, voice shaking.
He didn’t wait. His feet were already moving before his brain caught up. He sprinted through the crowd, yanking his phone from his pocket, fumbling with it until her location blinked on the screen.
Deep in the woods... too far... too far...
“Fuck!” he snarled, sparks igniting in his palms. He blasted off the ground, explosions booming as he hurled himself through the air, trees rushing past in blurs of black and silver. His heart pounded in his ears.
Why the hell did I leave her? Why did I let her go off alone?
He pushed himself harder, blasting faster, faster, until suddenly his mind lurched.
A memory slammed into him with the force of a punch.
Her eyes, half lidded from exhaustion but adoration as she stared up at him from under full lashes, her lips curved into a lazy tired smile, she sank into his arms, her head pressing against his heart.
“You damn idiot!” Katsuki’s voice, sharp and angry. His hands clenched Rosie’s waist tightly as he hovered in the air, her body sagging in his arms. The wind whipped her hair wildly around her face. “Why the hell would you jump?!”
Her tired smile made his breath hitch. “I knew you’d catch me.”
His jaw tightened in the memory. He’d wanted to yell at her, to shake some sense into her—but instead, his grip had tightened, his heart hammering in his chest. She smelled sweet, warm—like home.
“You’re insane,” he muttered.
“Maybe.”Her smile softened, her fingers curling into his shirt. “But I have faith in you.”
Her bright blue eyes locked on his, unwavering, trusting...
His memory twisted. Her smile faltered, her eyes dulling, her hand slipping from his shirt. His grip faltered—....
“No!” Katsuki barked, snapping back to reality.
Whatever the fuck that was, it felt too real. Too raw to be just a memory. His mind churned, questions racing through his thoughts, but there was no time to dwell on it now.
All that mattered was Rosie.
His explosions roared louder, his palms stinging as he rocketed through the trees. Branches whipped past, scraping his skin, but he didn’t stop.
Please... please be okay… He could barely breathe, panic clawing at his ribs. For the first time in a long time, he felt like a kid again, helpless and scared out of his mind. I’m not losing you... I won’t...
The pin on the map drew closer, her location blinking in the dark void of the woods. His chest tightened as the forest swallowed him whole. He heard another scream as he drew closer to the small clearing where she is at. He growled seeing her pin stop moving followed by another painful scream.
A deep seated rage burned in him that was unfamiliar yet very familiar, he launched himself at the guy.
The scream rang out again, raw and broken, splintering through the cold night air.
Katsuki’s heart lurched. He could hear her voice, strained, desperate, and then suddenly... it cut off. Her pin on the map stopped moving.
No... no, no, no...
His muscles tensed, explosions roaring from his palms as he propelled himself faster, tree branches snapping past him in blurs of shadow. His breath hitched when he broke into a clearing, and what he saw turned his blood to ice.
Rosie lay sprawled on the ground, her once-pristine costume shredded and filthy, streaked with blood and dirt. The soft pink lace of her dress was ripped, exposing torn stockings clinging to her scraped legs. Her collar, the one she’d teased him with earlier, was now smeared with grime. Her hair, once soft and curled to perfection, was tangled and matted with mud.
She didn’t even look like her anymore, not his bright, blushing doll who had smiled up at him just twenty minutes ago.
She looked like death itself had tried to claim her. And the bastard above her was still touching her.
Katsuki’s vision blurred red as the man withdrew a syringe from her neck and carelessly tossed it aside. Rosie’s head lolled, her breathing faint and uneven.
He drugged her...
The man shifted to grab her again—and something inside Katsuki snapped.
A deep, burning rage tore through him—hotter than any explosion he'd ever made. It clawed at his mind, drowning out everything but the single-minded desire to destroy. Dark, vicious thoughts filled his head—thoughts that weren’t entirely his own. His mouth curled in a snarl, and a sick kind of glee surged inside him as images flashed behind his eyes, twisting this bastard’s arms until they snapped, driving his skull into the dirt, choking the life out of him slowly—
He barely knew he’d moved before his hand was already around the man’s throat.
“GET YOUR FILTHY, DIRTY HANDS OFF HER, YOU SCUMMY ASS BASTARD!” Katsuki roared.
He drove the man to the ground with bone-crushing force, his fingers tightening around his throat. The man gagged and writhed beneath him, clawing at Katsuki’s arm—but he couldn’t break free.
Katsuki barely felt the nails scraping at his skin.
“You like hurting people?” Katsuki growled, his voice low and venomous. “You think you can touch her?”
His fist shot back and crashed into the man's face with a sickening crack. Blood sprayed across Katsuki’s knuckles. He grinned, a twisted, primal satisfaction flooding his senses, and hit him again. And again. And again.
The man’s nose caved beneath the next blow, blood gushing freely. Katsuki didn’t care. His vision blurred with crimson as he pummeled him harder.
“Did you think no one would come for her?!” Another punch. “You think you’re walking away from this?!” Another. “You think I won’t fucking kill you?”
He hit him again—until his knuckles split open—until the bastard beneath him stopped moving altogether.
“Katsuki!” A voice shouted, cutting through the haze.
Strong arms grabbed him from behind, pulling him back. “Katsuki, stop!”
“I’LL FUCKING KILL HIM!” Katsuki roared, fighting against the grip that held him back. Sparks still flickered dangerously in his palms, blood dripping from his fingers.
“That’s enough!” Shoto’s voice was sharp, firm. “I’ll take him. But she needs you more right now.”
Those words struck Katsuki harder than any blow could have.
He twisted his head back toward Rosie.
She was still sprawled on the ground, her chest rising and falling shallowly. Her lips, normally pink and warm, were pale and dry. Her fingers twitched weakly, like she was trying—and failing—to move.
The fire inside Katsuki dimmed. The rage turned to ice.
“Go,” Shoto said, stepping past him and yanking the bloodied man up by the collar, ice spreading from his palm to encase the bastard's legs in thick frost. “She needs you.”
Katsuki staggered forward, his breath ragged and his muscles burning. His whole body trembled, but not from exertion—no, this was something else entirely. Something deeper. Something sick and cold that curled in his stomach and squeezed his chest like a steel vice.
He could barely look at her.
Rosie lay there, crumpled, broken, and she looked so much worse up close. Her hair, once soft and neatly styled, was matted with dirt and blood. Thin cuts littered her arms and legs, her once-flawless stockings now torn and stained. Her ankle was twisted at an unnatural angle, swollen and purple. But it was her face that hit him the hardest, her delicate features marred by a deep gash across her cheek, blood smeared from her nose down to her chin. Bruises were already blooming across her skin, harsh and angry, and far too vivid against her normally soft and pale complexion.
He felt sick. His stomach churned, bile rising in his throat. The metallic stench of blood clung to her like a second skin, and the sight of her like this, battered and broken, made his head spin.
Yet, somehow, through all that suffocating dread, he felt nothing but relief.
Because she was breathing. Weak, shallow breaths—but still breathing.
“Rosie…” His voice cracked as he dropped to his knees beside her.
His hands hovered uselessly for a second—too afraid to touch her, too afraid he might hurt her even more.
God, she felt so small... so fragile.
Finally, he forced himself to move. Gently—so gently it hurt, he slid his arm beneath her shoulders and lifted her into his chest. She barely reacted, her head lolling weakly against him.
“Hey… hey, I got you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’ve got you, babydoll…”
He fumbled in his pocket for his phone, nearly dropping it from his shaking hands. His fingers were still sticky with blood—her blood—and the sight of it made him feel like he couldn’t breathe.
He barely remembered dialing Hawks' number before pressing the phone to his ear.
“Pick up, pick up…” Katsuki muttered.
The line clicked. “What’s up, kid?” Hawks’ voice was light, but Katsuki could hear the shift in his tone when he didn’t answer right away. “Bakugou?”
“We got the bastard,” Katsuki said hoarsely, his voice rough with emotion. “Icy Hot got him. But…” He swallowed hard, clutching Rosie a little tighter. “Mina’s hurt. And… and Rosie…” His voice faltered, and for a second, he couldn’t speak. His throat burned. “She’s alive,” he forced out. “But she’s… she’s bad. Real bad.”
“Got it,” Hawks said immediately, his casual tone replaced with sharp professionalism. “I’m on my way. Send me your location.”
Katsuki fumbled to share his coordinates before shoving his phone back into his pocket.
His arms tightened around Rosie as he stood, her body slumping limply against him. She felt so light, too light, like if he held her any tighter she’d just break.
“I’ve got you,” he muttered again, as if saying it enough times would make her whole again.
He started back toward the mansion, his pace slow and deliberate to keep from jostling her too much. Each step felt heavier than the last, dread crawling up his spine.
Then he felt her shift.
“Rosie?” he said quickly, looking down. Her eyelids fluttered, her breath coming out in soft, ragged pants.
“I knew you’d come…” Her voice was barely a whisper, weak and slurred, but she was smiling faintly, her bloodied lips twitching upward.
Katsuki’s chest squeezed. He bent his head and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering there a little longer than he meant to. “Yeah… yeah, of course I did.” His voice wavered. “Just get some sleep, okay? You’re really hurt.”
“M’fine…” she mumbled, her fingers weakly gripping the torn fabric of his shirt.
“No, you’re not,” he shot back, his voice breaking. “You need to rest.”
But even as he said it, he felt a warm glow radiate from her palm.
His gaze dropped just in time to see her hand twitch slightly, fingertips glowing faintly as her quirk flickered to life.
“What are you…?” His voice trailed off as he watched.
Her breathing was shaky, but determined. Despite her exhaustion, despite the pain, she was trying to heal herself.
He shifted his hold, watching in disbelief as the swelling in her ankle gradually lessened. The bruises didn’t disappear entirely, dark patches still clung to her skin, but the angry purple had dulled slightly.
“Rosie…” he muttered, staring at her in awe.
“See…” Her voice slurred as her hand fell limp against her chest. “Told you… m’fine…”
“You’re not fine,” Katsuki muttered, though a flicker of pride warmed his chest. “But… you’re tough. I’ll give you that.”
Her breathing evened out as she drifted back into unconsciousness, the drug she had been given must have finally taken affect, her hand still curled weakly against his chest.
Katsuki exhaled shakily and held her closer, his heart still racing. “I’ve got you,” he murmured again. “I’m not letting you go… not ever.”
Katsuki sat beside Rosie’s hospital bed, his gaze fixed on her sleeping form. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor filled the otherwise silent room, a constant reminder that she was still here—still breathing.
They had flushed the drugs from her system earlier, giving her body the strength it needed to activate her quirk and heal the worst of her injuries. The swelling in her ankle was gone, the deep gash on her cheek had closed, and most of the bruises had faded to dull shadows beneath her skin. But she still looked pale… fragile. Too damn fragile.
His eyes drifted to her hand, small and delicate in his, her fingers still cold despite the warmth of his palm. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, tracing the faint scar that ran across her index finger from some mission long ago.
She’s tough, he reminded himself. She’s always been tough.
But that didn’t stop the tightness in his chest. It didn’t erase the memory of her bloodied face or the way her voice had wavered when she whispered, "I knew you’d come."
His fingers twitched, and before he could stop himself, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face. Her skin was cool against his fingertips—too cool—and he swallowed hard.
Without thinking, he reached down and carefully unlaced her boots, sliding them off one by one. His hands, usually rough and precise, felt clumsy as he adjusted the blankets around her, tucking them closer to her chin. She was always terrible at keeping warm. She needed this.
Finally, his gaze dropped to her hand again. His fingers curled around hers, rough skin meeting soft.
God, if something had happened to her. Just the mere thought of her dying made him swallow thickly. If she had died, then what would he do?
“If I fail… then I’ll follow you into death.”
The words left his mouth before he even realized he’d spoken them—a raw, unshakable promise that settled heavy in his chest.
Then that familiar feeling crept in—the cold chill of déjà vu.
Katsuki opened his eyes, and suddenly he was somewhere else.
He knelt beside her bed—a different bed, in a room far colder and darker than this one. Rosie’s face was pale, her breathing shallow and strained. She wasn’t just hurt—she was dying. The shadows seemed to press closer, the air thick with the stench of blood and earth.
His hands shook as he brushed her hair from her face. She barely stirred.
“Stay with me,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “You hear me? You’re not leaving me.”
His fingers moved to her boots, battered and mud-streaked, and he pulled them off carefully, as though removing them too fast might shatter her.
The blanket on her bed was thin and rough, barely covering her, and he cursed under his breath as he tucked it tightly around her. It wasn’t enough. It never felt like enough.
His hand found hers, and his fingers curled around it, desperate for any warmth she had left to give.
The ring caught his eye — the same silver band that now rested on her hand in the hospital room. His thumb traced over it, and for a moment, his breathing steadied.
“I’m not letting you die,” he muttered, just as he had tonight. “I’ll find the bastard who did this… and if I fail…”
His voice cracked.
“If I fail… I’ll follow you.”
Katsuki gasped, his head snapping up as the memory—or whatever the hell that was—faded. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing in his ears.
What the hell…?
His eyes flicked back to Rosie, still lying quietly in her hospital bed. Her hand still cold in his.
What was that?
He shook his head, clearing the haze in his mind. Whatever it was—memory, vision, delusion. It didn’t matter.
Katsuki gasped, his head snapping up as the memory—or whatever the hell that was—faded. His breath came hard and fast, heart hammering against his ribs. Each beat seemed to thunder in his ears, his grip on Rosie’s hand tightening instinctively.
That was the second time now—the second time he'd seen her like that. Pointed ears, like some storybook elf. First in the woods, and now... that memory—vision—whatever the hell it was. It had felt too vivid, too real to be his imagination.
“I’m here to check on our patient,” a woman’s voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts.
His head snapped up, eyes narrowing as a woman with short, light blue hair and silver eyes stepped into the room. Glasses perched low on her nose, and she wore a pristine doctor’s uniform.
Another wave of déjà vu washed over him—a strange familiarity that twisted his stomach. Did I... know her? Had I met her before? Slept with her maybe?
“When do you think she’ll wake up?” Katsuki asked, his voice coming out rougher than intended.
“Pretty soon,” she answered with a kind smile, moving to check the monitors. Her pen scratched softly across her clipboard as she added notes. “Her quirk did most of the heavy lifting. The drugs numbed the worst of the pain, but she’ll be sore when she wakes up. Moving might be hard for the first few hours, but by tomorrow…” She closed her clipboard with a satisfied nod. “She’ll be good as new.”
Katsuki coughed, clearing his throat. “Thank you, Dr…?”
“Doctor Merialeth,” she said casually, brushing her hair from her face—and revealing the pointed tips of her ears.
His eyes widened slightly.
Before Katsuki could ask what the hell was going on, another rush of dizziness hit him. A flash of the past surged to the surface.
“I never thought I would come across another elf out here,” Rosie said, her smile warm and welcoming.
The woman turned toward them, her silver eyes lighting up with recognition as she looked at Rosie. "It’s rare to see one of our kin wandering this far from home," she replied in a melodic voice. Her eyes were sharp but kind, and they sparkled with the wisdom of someone who had seen much of the world. "Especially one as young as you. I am Merialeth of the Aeramyth realm.”
Rosie’s eyes widened slightly, recognizing the name of the ancient, mystical winter realm. She bowed her head slightly in respect. “I am Rosie, of the Silven realm,” she introduced herself, a hint of pride mixed with shyness in her voice.
Merialeth tilted her head, her smile growing warmer. “Ahh, a highborn from the Silven realm venturing beyond the safety of her forests?” she mused, studying Rosie with amused curiosity. “It’s not often we see noble-born elves wandering these lands.”
The memory flickered—hazy, but sharp enough to leave a deep chill in his bones.
Katsuki shook his head, muttering under his breath, “What the hell was that?”
Dr. Merialeth chuckled softly, almost as if she had expected his reaction. “What you just saw?”
“What else?” he grunted, still trying to piece it together.
“You’re waking up faster than you did last time,” she hummed, a note of intrigue in her voice. “How interesting…”
Before Katsuki could demand answers, the door swung open, and Hawks, Aizawa, and Present Mic strode in.
Aizawa’s sharp gaze immediately locked onto Rosie, his tired eyes narrowing. “How is she?” he demanded.
“She’s stable,” Dr. Merialeth answered calmly. “Her body just needs rest now.”
“That’s not good enough,” Aizawa snapped, stepping closer to the bed. His fingers twitched at his sides as though fighting the urge to check her pulse himself.
“Easy now,” Present Mic murmured, placing a firm hand on Aizawa’s shoulder. “She’s in good hands, man.”
“I should’ve been there.” Aizawa’s voice was low, tight with guilt. “I should’ve—”
“Hey,” Hawks cut in firmly. “We’ll handle this. I’ve got news.”
Katsuki turned his glare on Hawks, still gripping Rosie’s hand tightly. “What news?”
“The bastard who attacked her—the guy you pummeled?” Hawks’ smile faded, his expression darkening. “He spilled everything.”
“Yeah?” Katsuki’s fingers clenched tighter around Rosie’s hand. “And?”
“He was just some hired scumbag,” Hawks said grimly. “Paid to torment her, drug her, and then…” His gaze flicked to Rosie’s sleeping face before his voice dropped lower. “He was supposed to kidnap her and take her to a designated location.”
Katsuki’s stomach twisted. “Where?”
“Somewhere just outside the city,” Hawks replied. “He was scheduled to make the drop at six in the morning.”
Katsuki’s jaw clenched. “And who was he supposed to meet?”
Hawks’ face hardened. “Two men. No names, no descriptions—but whoever they are, they knew what they were doing.”
Katsuki’s grip on Rosie’s hand tightened, his thumb absently tracing the cool skin of her knuckles.
"Two men." His mind churned with the thought. Two nameless bastards who had planned to take her away, to hurt her. His breath hitched as the images flashed in his mind: Rosie’s torn costume, the blood streaked across her face, her fragile body crumpled in the dirt. He had barely gotten to her in time. If he’d been even a second later…
“I’m gonna kill them,” he growled, voice low and venomous.
Before he could fully process the rage boiling inside him, something cold coiled around his torso. Aizawa’s capture weapon.
“The hell?!” Katsuki snarled, barely able to twist his head before Aizawa yanked him forward, dragging him closer until their faces were inches apart.
Aizawa’s tired eyes glowed red, cold fury radiating from him like a storm. “Why the hell weren’t you with her?” His voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. “You’re supposed to be her bodyguard, and yet you were nowhere when she got hurt.”
Katsuki’s teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached. “Don’t you think I fucking know that?” His voice shook with barely contained rage. “I already know I screwed up—I don’t need you shoving it down my throat!”
“You were supposed to protect her,” Aizawa growled, the glowing intensity of his eyes sharpening.
Katsuki’s quirk flickered to life, sparks dancing off his palms. “I will protect her,” he snarled. “I’ll find those bastards, and I’ll—”
“Oh, yeah?” Aizawa snapped, pulling him closer. “What good’s your vengeance if you weren’t there when she needed you most?”
The words hit like a punch to the gut, but Katsuki refused to show it. His chest burned, rage swelling hot and sharp.
“You wanna throw down, old man?” Katsuki sneered, curling his fists tightly despite the capture weapon binding him. “Fine. Let’s go. I’ll—”
“How am I supposed to get any rest if you two are fighting?”
Both Katsuki and Aizawa froze, snapping their heads toward the bed. Rosie was awake, her bleary eyes narrowing in clear disapproval. Her voice was weak, hoarse, but her glare was unmistakable.
“Seriously?” she grumbled, blinking sluggishly. “I get attacked, drugged, and nearly kidnapped, and this is how you two react?”
Katsuki felt his anger fizzle out in an instant, replaced by a wave of relief so strong his legs nearly gave out. “Rosie…” he muttered, swallowing the lump in his throat.
Present Mic hurried over to Rosie’s side, his usual grin softening into something gentler. “Easy there, kid,” he murmured, adjusting her pillows so she could sit up more comfortably. “You’ve been through a lot.”
Rosie groaned as she shifted, wincing but determined. Once she was settled, she fixed her sharp gaze on Katsuki and Aizawa. “You both need to chill.”
“Sunshine,” Aizawa started, his tone unusually soft. “You don’t understand—”
“I understand perfectly,” she cut him off. “I was with Mina. She’s a capable hero too—and she got hurt just like I did.” Her gaze flicked to Katsuki, sharp and unwavering. “So don’t you dare stand there and act like it’s all his fault. We were both caught off guard.”
“But—”
“No buts,” she snapped, her voice gaining strength. “You two need to stop wasting time blaming each other and start focusing on finding the guys who did this. Because last I checked, they’re still out there.”
A tense silence filled the room.
“Now,” Rosie added firmly, “both of you—out.”
Katsuki stared at her, baffled. “The hell do you mean ‘out’? I’m not leaving you alone with—”
“She’s my daughter,” Aizawa interrupted, his tone flat.
“And I’m her bodyguard,” Katsuki shot back.
Rosie let out an exhausted sigh. “Out. Both of you. The doctor needs to check me over, and I’d rather not have you two growling at each other while I’m getting poked and prodded.”
Dr. Merialeth chuckled softly. “You heard the princess,” she said with a smile.
Grumbling under his breath, Katsuki reluctantly released Rosie’s hand and stalked out of the room, Aizawa following closely behind.
Once the door shut behind them, Hawks and Present Mic exchanged amused glances as Katsuki and Aizawa stood rigidly in the hallway—neither willing to speak first.
“She told you guys off pretty good,” Hawks grinned, arms crossed. “I’m kinda impressed.”
“My niece has fire,” Present Mic added with a chuckle. “No surprise there, considering who raised her.”
Katsuki shot Aizawa with a withering glare. “If you’re done wasting time, I’ve got a job to do.”
“You have a job?” Aizawa’s voice was low and dangerous. “You’re not going anywhere near those bastards without backup.”
Katsuki scoffed. “I don’t need backup. I need results.”
“You’re emotional. You’ll screw it up.”
“Like hell I will!”
“See?” Hawks muttered to Present Mic with a smirk. “Fire.”
Notes:
The memories that are being referenced are chapters 7, 48, and 59 of The Pretty High Elf and the Rogue Dragon Prince<3 if you recognize the doctor then that is foreshadowing some things in the first part of this series lol
See you guys tomorrow!
Chapter 66: Smile. Don’t think. Just keep moving.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Hospitals always left a bitter taste in Rosie’s mouth. After losing her mother, those sterile white walls felt less like a place of healing and more like a grim reminder that death could come just as swiftly as life. It didn’t matter how kind the staff were or how quickly she was discharged—the moment she stepped out of her hospital room, she felt like she could breathe again.
The borrowed clothes her dad had packed— a pair of cozy sweats and a cropped long-sleeve—felt like armor, shielding her from the memories clawing at the back of her mind. Rosie tucked her hair behind her ear and took a steadying breath before stepping into the lobby.
Katsuki stood there, back to her, thumbs furiously typing on his phone. He hadn’t really spoken to her since she’d woken up—hadn’t even looked at her. Something heavy settled in her chest.
“I’m ready,” she said, her voice still scratchy from all the screaming.
Katsuki gave a curt nod. “Good.”
Her stomach twisted. He was pissed— not at her, but because of her. They needed to talk, but before she could say anything, movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention.
“ Rosie! ”
Mina’s voice cracked as she sprinted across the lobby, tears streaming down her face. Before Rosie could react, Mina collided with her in a bone-crushing hug, nearly sending them both sprawling.
“I-I’M SO SORRY!” Mina sobbed, clutching Rosie like she was afraid she’d vanish.
Rosie felt her own tears well up as she hugged her friend back just as tightly. “It’s okay,” she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m fine now. I promise.”
“I should’ve—I should’ve protected you!” Mina’s voice broke again. “I should’ve done more! ”
Rosie shook her head fiercely, blinking through her tears. “No, Mina—no. Don’t say that. You did protect me. You fought just as hard, and— ” Her voice faltered as she swallowed back a sob. “— and you got hurt because of me. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… ”
Mina shook her head wildly, tears dripping off her chin. “No! Don’t you dare apologize!” She squeezed Rosie tighter. “You’re my best friend— I’d do it again a thousand times over. ”
Both girls clung to each other, crying into each other’s shoulders, whispering apologies and reassurances in between hiccupped breaths.
Katsuki and Kirishima stood off to the side, holding their bags and watching the emotional reunion unfold.
“Damn…” Kirishima muttered, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Didn’t think I’d be witnessing a soap opera today.”
Katsuki grunted. “Alright,” he barked, voice gruff but not unkind. “Cut the waterworks. Gotta get Rosie home.”
Kirishima chuckled and clapped Katsuki on the shoulder. “I’ll drive.”
The girls sniffled and wiped their eyes, exchanging one last squeeze before Mina muttered, “There’s nothing to forgive, dummy.”
Rosie smiled weakly, her hand finding Mina’s and giving it a squeeze. “Same goes for you.”
With tear-streaked faces and matching exhausted smiles, they followed Katsuki and Kirishima out of the hospital.
Kirishima’s car was waiting just outside, and as soon as they piled in, Rosie and Mina practically melted into the backseat together. Mina curled her arm around Rosie’s shoulders, and Rosie leaned her head against Mina’s, their fingers still loosely intertwined as they shared warmth and comfort.
In the front seat, Kirishima glanced at the rearview mirror, his face softening at the sight. “Looks like they’re both wiped out,” he murmured.
“Yeah,” Katsuki muttered, his gaze flicking back to Rosie through the mirror. The tension in his chest eased just a little at the sight of her safe and resting. “They’ll be fine.”
Rosie stirred awake when Katsuki gently shook her shoulder. Her eyes blinked open, still heavy with exhaustion. She yawned, rubbing one eye sluggishly.
“C’mon,” Katsuki muttered, voice softer than usual.
She glanced around, her gaze landing on the dimly lit parking garage outside the car window. “Where are we?”
“We’re at your new apartment,” Katsuki said, stepping back to let her out of the car.
Rosie frowned as he helped her to her feet, her legs still stiff and sore. “But I’m not even supposed to move in until next week.”
“Hawks pulled some strings,” Katsuki explained, grabbing her bag and slinging it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing. “Your dad paid to have all your stuff moved here early.”
Rosie blinked, caught off guard. “I’ll have to thank him…” she mumbled, still trying to catch up with everything that had happened in the past day.
She leaned heavily against Katsuki as they walked, her arm looped through his. Mina was in a similar state, clinging to Kirishima as they followed behind. The sleek, modern lobby was quiet, their footsteps the only sound as they made their way to the elevator.
Rosie’s eyes threatened to close again as the soft hum of the elevator lulled her into a sleepy daze. Before she knew it, the doors slid open on the fifth floor, and Katsuki led her down the pristine hallway. They passed several apartment doors before Katsuki dug a key out of his pocket and unlocked a dark mahogany door marked with the number 20.
He stepped back, nodding for her to go in first.
Rosie shuffled inside, dragging her feet down the narrow entry hall. The moment she stepped into the living room, a small blur of fur shot toward her.
“Hi, baby,” Rosie rasped, her voice still scratchy. Maya circled her feet, yipping and barking loudly before jumping into her arms, whimpering for extra attention. “Missed you too,” Rosie murmured, nuzzling her soft hair.
She barely had time to take in her surroundings before she flicked on the light—and nearly jumped out of her skin.
“Welcome home!”
Her friends burst out from behind the couch, grins wide and arms raised in excitement. Rosie’s eyes shot to the banner hanging across the wall: WELCOME HOME & HAPPY HOUSEWARMING!
Uraraka was the first to reach her, wrapping Rosie in a warm hug. “We all pitched in to help move your stuff,” Uraraka said, her voice bright. “We wanted you to come home and not have to worry about unpacking everything.”
Rosie blinked, completely overwhelmed. Her apartment looked… lived in . The couch had pillows and blankets already set up, her books were neatly stacked on the shelves, and her favorite framed photos were hanging on the wall. Even her kitchen counters had been stocked with a few groceries.
“You guys…” Her voice broke, and before she could stop herself, tears spilled down her face.
“Oh no!” Uraraka gasped, rushing over with Izuku right behind her. “Don’t cry!”
“I’m just…” Rosie sniffled, trying to smile through the tears. “I’m just really grateful.”
“Don’t mention it.” Izuku grinned. “We’re just glad you’re okay.”
One by one, her friends moved in, surrounding her in a warm, comforting group hug. Arms circled her from every direction — Uraraka squeezing her side, Mina sniffling beside her, and even Shoji’s big hand resting on her back.
Through her blurry vision, Rosie caught sight of Katsuki standing a little off to the side. His arms were crossed, expression carefully neutral—but his eyes were soft, warm even.
She reached out, curling her fingers around his wrist and tugging him closer. “Get over here, tough guy,” she said with a watery smile.
“Tch,” Katsuki muttered, but he didn’t resist. He stepped in, looping his arm loosely around her waist—not too tight, but enough to tell her he was there.
Rosie let her head fall against his chest, finally letting herself relax. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt safe. She felt safe .
The evening buzzed with warmth and laughter as Rosie settled into her new apartment, her friends filling every corner with noise and energy. The living room was comfortably crowded, the coffee table cluttered with snacks, empty plates, and a few half-finished drinks. The TV flickered with bright colors as someone cycled through different music playlists in the background.
Rosie sat cross-legged on the couch, a wine glass in hand, sandwiched between Mina and Jirou. Uraraka perched on the armrest nearby, giggling into her drink. Momo sat on the floor in front of them, her own glass in hand, as they shared stories and sipped wine like they were years older than they actually were.
“Oh no, no,” Mina gasped between laughs, slapping her knee. “You’re telling me you really thought that was a raccoon?”
“It looked like one!” Rosie protested, giggling despite herself. “I was half-asleep, okay?”
Jirou shook her head with a teasing smile. “You’re lucky it didn’t try to attack you.”
“I would’ve fought it,” Rosie declared proudly, lifting her glass as if toasting her own bravery.
“Yeah,” Mina snorted, “and you would’ve lost.”
The girls erupted in laughter again, their faces flushed from wine and shared memories. Rosie leaned back against the couch cushions, warmth spreading through her chest—from both the alcohol and the comforting presence of her friends.
Soon enough, the guys claimed the couch for themselves, turning their attention to a chaotic round of fighting games on the TV. Rosie didn’t miss a beat, claiming a controller for herself and squishing between Kirishima and Denki.
“Oh no,” Denki grinned, “I’m so gonna wreck you.”
“You wish,” Rosie shot back, narrowing her eyes in challenge.
The next half-hour was spent in gleeful chaos—shouts, jeers, and groans filling the room as they battled it out on-screen. Kirishima kept trying to tank everything, Denki was too busy taunting to dodge attacks, and Katsuki, from his spot on the floor, barked at them for their “dumbass strategies” like he wasn’t secretly invested.
But gradually, the warmth of the room made Rosie’s eyelids grow heavier. Her reflexes slowed, and her grip on the controller weakened. By the time she lost her third round in a row, she let out a tired groan and leaned back against Kirishima’s shoulder.
“Alright, I’m calling it,” Mina announced from the kitchen, her glass in hand. “We should get going before Rosie falls asleep on one of you.”
Rosie let out a sleepy chuckle, only half-aware as her friends began packing up plates, gathering their bags, and tidying up the living room.
“Hey,” Kirishima said gently as Rosie blinked drowsily. “We’ve got a couple of days off... How about we all go somewhere? Like a trip or something.”
“Ohhh, yes!” Mina’s voice rang out as she paused by the door. “We totally should!”
“I’m down,” Denki chimed in.
“Sounds fun,” Uraraka agreed.
“Beach trip?” Sero suggested from the kitchen.
“Too cold,” Momo countered, stacking plates neatly.
“We could rent a cabin,” Jirou offered. “Somewhere cozy. Bonfire, movies, food…”
“I like that idea,” Kirishima grinned. “What do you think, Rosie?”
Rosie blinked sleepily at them, her head still resting on Kirishima’s shoulder. “Mmm... Sounds nice...”
“Perfect!” Mina cheered. “It’s decided!”
“You guys better not wake me up at five in the morning,” Katsuki muttered, grabbing his jacket from the back of a chair.
Mina grinned devilishly. “No promises.”
With that, the group said their goodbyes, each giving Rosie a hug or a pat on the head as they filed out the door. As the last of them left, Rosie realized that Katsuki and her were finally alone.
“I’m going to go take a shower,” she said, anything to get away from the tension in the room.
He never looked up from his phone, texting, and that made her frown. Who was he testing and why had he been glued to his phone the last couple of hours?
Moving to her bedroom, she grabbed pajamas and went to the bathroom, locking herself in her bathroom where she was quick to strip and step into the hot spray of the water.
She knew that Katsuki and her would have to talk but it was so easy to ignore the matter, to be distracted and pretend like what happened didn’t happen. But Katsuki couldn’t ignore it and she couldn’t either, not when her being alone like this scared the shit out of her.
Which is why she took a quick shower, eager to be with Katsuki, just to quell her growing anxiety and panic. Stepping back into her living room with her hair in a towel and silk pajamas, she watched Katsuki sit on her couch, still texting, never once looking up from his phone. It was hard to ignore and push past the anxiety and racing insecure thoughts.
Rosie felt her heart hammering in her chest as she stood there, clutching the hem of her pajama shirt tightly in her fingers. The silk felt cool against her sweaty palms, and yet she still felt too warm—her anxiety bubbling beneath her skin like a boiling kettle about to scream.
Katsuki’s eyes stayed glued to his phone, his fingers flying across the screen. The faint glow from the screen cast shadows across his face, making his sharp features seem colder, more distant.
He’s ignoring me. He’s tired of me. He’s sick of the drama.
The thoughts swirled viciously in her head, each one digging deeper into her insecurities. Maybe this whole relationship was too much—too much danger, too much pressure, too much… her .
What if he’s texting someone else?
The thought hit her like a punch to the stomach, winding her. She knew it wasn’t fair—Katsuki wasn’t like that. But her anxiety didn’t care about logic. It kept feeding her doubt after doubt, each one sharper than the last.
She wanted to ask him—to just come out and say Who are you texting? Are you sick of me? Are you going to leave me ?—but the words tangled in her throat like thorns. Instead, all that came out was:
“ We should talk. ”
The second the words left her mouth, she wanted to shove them back down. Why had she said it like that? Why did she sound so cold, so distant?
Katsuki finally looked up at her, but only for a second before flicking his gaze back to his phone. “About what?” he muttered, voice flat.
That stung. Like she was barely worth his attention.
“About what happened…” Her voice wavered. She swallowed hard and tried again. “I know it’s been bothering you a bit…”
“A bit?” Katsuki barked out a bitter laugh, harsh and humorless. “You think what happened to you only bothers me a bit ?” His eyes finally locked on hers, hard and sharp like flint striking steel. “Rosie, doll, I nearly killed the guy.”
She blinked, startled. He what?
“Okay,” she said carefully, ignoring the way her pulse jumped. “But we should still talk about it.”
“Talk about what ?” His voice rose, sharper now. “How I wasn’t there when you needed me? How you could’ve died? Or maybe how some asshole out there still wants to hurt you?”
His words dug into her like claws, twisting deeper into her growing insecurities.
“Well, maybe if you weren’t always glued to your damn phone, you’d actually know what’s going on!” The words shot out before she could stop them, sharp and defensive.
Katsuki’s eyes widened for a split second before narrowing into a glare. “Are you serious right now?” He scoffed, shoving his phone into his pocket as he stood up. “You think this is about me texting?”
“I don’t know what to think!” she snapped. “You’ve been ignoring me all night! I just—I don’t know if you even want to be here anymore!”
“You think I don’t want to be here?” His voice was dangerously low, like a growl rumbling in his chest. “I’ve done nothing but be here for you! I’ve been losing my mind since this whole thing started—and now you’re acting like I don’t give a shit?”
“I’m no —”
“You are!” Katsuki’s voice finally broke, louder than before. “You’re acting like I haven’t been worried sick—like I haven’t been busting my ass trying to figure out how to keep you safe ! I’m trying to fix this, and you’re over here questioning if I even care ?”
“I’m scared!” Rosie yelled back, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. “I don’t know how to handle this— and you’re just sitting there ignoring me like I’m not eve —”
“I’m trying to hold my shit together!” Katsuki cut her off, jabbing a finger toward her. “Because if I don’t, I’m gonna lose it—and if I lose it, I’ll go find the bastards who hurt you and rip them apart with my bare hands!”
His chest was heaving now, his face flushed with anger. The air between them crackled, heavy and stifling.
“Well, maybe you should just go , then!” Rosie shot back, voice breaking as her frustration and panic overwhelmed her. “If you’re so pissed off, then leave! I don’t want to see you right now!”
Katsuki froze, staring at her like she’d just slapped him. For a moment, she thought he might say something— something sharp and cruel —but instead, he just let out a low, bitter laugh.
“Fine,” he muttered, grabbing his jacket off the back of the couch. “I’ll give you your damn space.”
He didn’t slam the door when he left—that wasn’t Katsuki’s style—but the cold, final click of it shutting still hit her like a hammer to the chest.
For a moment, Rosie stood there, trembling. The apartment suddenly felt too big— too quiet. The silence pressed down on her like a weight she couldn’t shake off.
Her knees buckled, and she sank to the floor right there in the middle of her living room.
And then it hit her—all of it . The fear, the exhaustion, the sheer helplessness she’d been carrying for days. It crashed over her in waves, her breath hitching as sobs tore from her throat.
She buried her face in her hands, her fingers tangling in her damp hair as she cried—an ugly, broken sob that left her gasping for air. She cried for the fear she couldn’t shake, for the feeling of being powerless, and for the one person who always made her feel safe—the one she just pushed away.
And now, for the first time since this whole nightmare started… she was alone.
Why the fuck did she say that? That is not what she had wanted to say, had wanted to talk about. Instead, she got overwhelmed and had all but accused him of things she knew weren’t true and had all but showed him the door like a fucking dumbass.
Rosie sat on the floor for what felt like hours, her sobs finally tapering off into shallow, shaky breaths. Her face was hot and blotchy, her throat raw from crying. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her pajama top, only to wince when the silky fabric dragged across her skin.
Her mind replayed the argument on an endless loop—Katsuki’s sharp voice, her own panicked words tumbling out too fast, too wrong. She hadn’t meant to accuse him, hadn’t meant to push him away. She just wanted him to look at her, to say something that made her feel safe again.
He won’t forgive me.
The thought clung to her, heavy and suffocating. Katsuki was stubborn as hell—if he felt like she didn’t trust him, why would he come back? Why would he even want to?
The apartment felt colder now—emptier. The silence wasn’t comforting; it was suffocating. Rosie staggered to her feet, her legs shaky as she stumbled into her bedroom. Her gaze caught on the wall— the collage of photos she’d spent so much time putting together.
So many of them were Katsuki. Pictures of him smirking with his arm around her, of the two of them pulling stupid faces at each other, of him glaring at the camera while she laughed in the background.
Her chest tightened painfully. Looking at his face hurt too much right now.
Before she knew what she was doing, Rosie turned away from the wall, yanking the comforter off her bed and dragging it back to the living room. She wrapped herself in it tightly, curling into a ball on the couch like she could somehow shrink down small enough that the pain wouldn’t reach her.
Why couldn’t I just say what I wanted to say?
Instead, she let her anxiety twist her words until they became something ugly— something that hurt him.
She stared at her phone on the coffee table, the screen dim and silent. Her fingers twitched to grab it—to text him, to fix things. But she didn’t. Because she knew Katsuki. If he was still pissed—and she was sure he was—he wouldn’t answer. And if she said the wrong thing again...
Rosie squeezed her eyes shut and let exhaustion drag her under.
The next day was no better.
She stared at her phone every chance she got—checking, refreshing, checking again—but there was nothing. No message. No missed call. Just silence.
The only texts she’d gotten were from her other friends—Mina, Uraraka, Kirishima—even her dad had sent a casual Checking in on you text. But Katsuki? Nothing. His silence felt loud— deafening —like a knife twisting in her chest.
Her fingers hovered over his contact more than once. Each time she imagined what he’d say if she called him now. Would he be cold? Distant? Would he even answer?
She couldn’t face that right now.
Instead, she dragged herself to work. The walk to the café felt longer than usual, and by the time she reached the back room, her limbs were heavy, her stomach knotted tight. The tears she’d been holding back all morning threatened to spill, and the second she stepped into the employee room, she broke.
Rosie turned her back to the door, muffling her sobs into her hands. It didn’t last long—maybe a minute or two—before she forced herself to breathe, to calm down.
She wiped her face roughly, ignoring how her makeup smudged under her fingers. Her reflection in the mirror above the sink stared back at her— tired eyes, red-rimmed and glassy. Rosie grabbed her concealer from her bag, quickly fixing her face and forcing a smile that felt shaky at best.
Fake it till you make it.
The café was busy—the kind of chaotic, fast-paced shift that usually left Rosie exhausted but satisfied. Today, she was grateful for it. The constant stream of orders kept her hands moving, kept her mind too busy to spiral.
Smile, keep smiling. Don’t think. Just move, she repeated in her head like a mantra.
She handed out drinks, wiped down tables, greeted customers with a bright, hollow smile that felt more like armor than anything else. Every moment she spent working was another moment she didn’t have to think about Katsuki walking away.
“Rosie?”
She turned too quickly at the sound of her name, nearly dropping the tray of mugs she was carrying. Kanako stood behind her, brow furrowed with concern.
“You good?” Kanako asked, her voice quieter than usual. “You seem... off .”
Rosie’s smile stretched wider. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice chipper and forced. “Just tired. Long night.”
Kanako didn’t look convinced, but she nodded anyway. “Okay... Just let me know if you need a break, alright?”
“Sure,” Rosie lied and hurried away before she could ask anything else.
Later, when she was refilling the pastry case, Shinso sidled up beside her, his eyes sharp despite his usual tired expression.
“You sure you’re okay?” he muttered, voice low enough that no one else could hear.
“I’m fine,” Rosie said quickly, shoving another tray of croissants into place.
“You’re not,” Shinso shot back flatly. “You’ve been wiping the same counter for five minutes.”
Rosie’s hands stilled, fingers tightening around the edge of the counter. For a second, she almost— almost —admitted how badly she was holding it together. How her chest felt tight, like she couldn’t quite catch her breath. How she was scared she might just crumble right there behind the register if she stopped moving.
Instead, she forced a laugh that sounded too sharp, too fake. “I’m just tired,” she repeated. “I’ll be fine once I get home.”
Shinso didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push. He just gave her a slow nod and muttered, “Alright,” before heading back to the register.
Rosie swallowed the lump in her throat and turned back to her work.
Smile. Don’t think. Just keep moving.
Rosie barely made it to her break before everything started to unravel.
Her limbs felt heavy as she trudged into the employee room, her head pounding and her chest aching like someone had tied a rope around her ribs and was slowly pulling it tighter. She felt raw—like her emotions were stretched so thin they could snap at any second. But she held on.
Just get through the day. Just one more shift. Then you can go home and...
And what? Crawl back onto the couch where the blanket still smelled like Katsuki? Stare at her phone, waiting for a text that wasn’t coming? Sit alone in that cold, empty apartment and pretend she wasn’t falling apart at the seams?
No. She couldn’t think about that right now.
Instead, she focused on the takeout container in her hands. Food. Something simple. Something she could control.
She set the container on the table and peeled it open—only to see a meal she didn’t order.
It wasn’t hers—some kind of spicy ramen with extra chili flakes. Not her comforting bowl of curry. Not the warm, familiar taste she’d been desperately looking forward to—the one thing that might have made her feel grounded again.
For a second, she just stared at it. Maybe if she looked hard enough, it would magically turn into the meal she actually ordered.
But it didn’t.
And that was it. That was all it took.
Her breath hitched, sharp and shallow. Her vision blurred as tears welled in her eyes, and her whole body started to shake. Before she could stop it, a broken sob tore out of her throat—ragged and ugly—and then another, and another.
She tried to quiet herself, tried to choke it down, but the harder she fought it, the worse it got. Her breath came faster, uneven and sharp. Her chest felt like it was caving in, like there wasn’t enough air in the room no matter how hard she tried to breathe.
Her fingers dug into the edge of the table, knuckles white as she fought to keep herself upright, but her legs wobbled beneath her. Her heart pounded too fast—painfully fast—like it was slamming against her ribs.
Breathe. Breathe, damn it.
But she couldn’t. Her chest felt tight, her lungs locked like a fist was squeezing them shut.
Her vision tunneled. Her ears rang. Her fingers slipped from the table’s edge, and before she knew what was happening, her knees buckled. The cold tile floor rushed up to meet her, and she collapsed in a heap, her head resting against the side of the chair as her whole body shook violently.
Her breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps, too fast, too shallow. Each one felt harder than the last, like no matter how much she sucked in, she couldn’t get enough air.
She felt like she was drowning.
“Rosie?”
Someone’s voice, distant and muffled. Footsteps. A hand that is warm and steady touched her shoulder.
“Hey! Hey, Rosie, can you hear me?” Shinso’s voice cut through the fog, closer now— sharper .
Her answer was a choked sob.
“Shit,” he swore under his breath, moving quickly. “Okay, hey, I need you to breathe, alright? Can you do that for me?”
“I— I can’t,” Rosie gasped, her chest spasming as she sucked in another frantic breath. “I— I can’t— I can’t— ”
“Yes, you can,” Shinso said firmly. “Just focus on my voice. In for four, out for four, okay?”
She shook her head, tears streaking down her face. She couldn’t even tell if she was breathing anymore.
“You’re alright,” Shinso said, and his voice softened — quieter, gentler. “I’ve got you. Just breathe with me. In... two... three... four... Out... two... three... four...”
His voice was steady, an anchor cutting through the panic threatening to drown her. “In... two... three... four... Out... two... three... four...”
Her breathing hitched again, sharp and uneven, but she clung to his voice like a lifeline, forcing herself to match his pace.
“In... two... three... four... Out... two... three... four...”
The pressure in her chest slowly, slowly began to ease. Each breath felt a little less impossible. Her fingers stopped trembling. Her vision started to clear.
“Atta girl,” Shinso murmured as her breathing evened out. “That’s it.”
Rosie slumped against the side of the chair, her body spent and exhausted. Her breaths were still shaky, but at least she wasn’t gasping like she was about to die.
“You’re okay,” Shinso said again, softer this time. His hand was still on her shoulder, steady and grounding. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
And just like that, all the fight drained out of her. The dam broke, and Rosie’s sobs returned— loud, ugly, uncontrollable. But this time, she wasn’t alone.
Yet, it wasn’t the person that she wanted to comfort her. No, she is pretty sure he didn’t want anything to do with her. That he would break up with her because that was easy.
Notes:
I’m not cutting her any breaks lol but hey at least we’re going to see some drunk jealous, vulnerable, and dumb Katsuki and crying, needy, and apologetic Rosie because they’re both idiots in love that don’t know how to be in a relationship 😩🤭
Chapter 67: YOKOHAMA, HERE WE COME!!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
After her little—okay, not so little —nervous breakdown, Rosie had called Mina in search of a distraction. Anything to pull her away from her spiraling thoughts and the lingering ache in her chest. Mina didn’t even hesitate.
“Give me an hour,” Mina had said before hanging up, leaving Rosie clutching her phone like it was a lifeline.
Shinso and Kanako had been kind enough to clock her out, Shinso even insisting on driving her home while Yui covered the rest of her shift. Rosie had been too drained to argue, murmuring a soft thank you as she climbed out of Shinso’s car and trudged to her apartment.
The moment she stepped inside, Maya greeted her with excited barks and frantic tail wags, her fluffy little body bouncing around Rosie’s legs like she’d been gone for days instead of hours.
“Hey, baby,” Rosie mumbled, dropping to her knees and burying her face in Maya’s fur. She clung to her like a lifeline, feeling Maya’s warm, steady heartbeat against her cheek. The weight of the day— the panic, the exhaustion, the overwhelming everything —threatened to drag her down again.
But Maya licked her face, whining, and Rosie forced herself to pull it together.
“You need dinner, huh?” she murmured, standing and making her way to the kitchen.
She stripped out of her work uniform and threw on a pair of soft black leggings and her favorite cropped sweater. By the time she reached the fridge, her hair was damp from the cool water she’d splashed on her face, her eyes still puffy and red despite her efforts to calm down.
Opening the fridge, she frowned, unsure what to make. Something warm? Something easy? Maybe just a sandwi—
BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM!
Rosie jumped, the sound of frantic knocking crashing through her apartment like a thunderclap. Heart racing, she grabbed her phone and immediately pulled up her dad’s number, thumb hovering over the call button as she stared at the door.
Who the hell…?
“ ROSIEEEEEE! OPEN UPPPPP! ”
Rosie sagged with relief, her breath rushing out in a shaky laugh. She quickly unlocked the door, and before she could even open it fully, Mina burst inside like a pink whirlwind, beaming from ear to ear.
“Pack your bags, babe!” Mina announced, pointing dramatically at Rosie like she’d just revealed a winning lottery ticket. “We’re going to Yokohama for the next couple of days!”
Rosie blinked. "What?"
“I already had it cleared with Hawks,” Mina grinned, hands on her hips like she’d just solved world peace. “He said we’ll be fine heading to Yokohama. So! Get that nice ass of yours in gear and start packing!”
For a moment, Rosie just stood there, staring at her best friend like she’d grown a second head. Then, with a sigh—part exasperation, part gratitude—she nodded.
“Alright, alright,” Rosie muttered, shuffling to her bedroom.
The second she stepped inside, she grabbed her pink suitcase from the closet, yanked it open, and started tossing in whatever she thought she might need. Clothes—some casual, some cute— followed by her favorite oversized hoodie of Katsuki’s that she had stolen from his apartment. Then her toiletries, her makeup, and her charger— can’t forget that. Her gaze drifted to her nightstand, where her latest raunchy romance novel sat face-down. Without hesitation, she grabbed it and shoved it into her purse.
Then she turned and froze.
Maya sat at the foot of her bed, her fluffy tail wagging lowly, ears drooped. Her big, round eyes stared up at Rosie, full of worry— like she knew Rosie was leaving.
“Oh, sweet girl,” Rosie whispered, kneeling down to scratch behind Maya’s ears.
“I told you,” Mina’s voice called from the doorway, “Kirishima’s got her covered.”
Rosie glanced back, hesitant. “You’re sure?”
Mina grinned. “Positive. He’s already excited about it—said they’d watch movies and eat snacks together like a couple of bachelors.”
That got a small smile out of Rosie. She kissed Maya’s head, whispering, “You’re gonna have so much fun,” before gathering her dog’s food, bowls, treats, toys, and leash.
With Mina’s help, they carried everything downstairs. Rosie double-checked her locks, ensuring the security alarm was on before following Mina to the elevator.
After dropping Maya off at Mina and Kirishima’s place—where Kirishima greeted Maya with a dramatic “ WELCOME TO THE BACHELOR PAD !”—they hit the road.
Rosie leaned back in her seat, feeling a little lighter. For the first time in what felt like days, her mind wasn’t racing. The tension in her chest didn’t feel quite so suffocating.
But then she glanced at her phone. The screen lit up—a text from Kanako checking in. One from Yui asking if she was okay. And still... nothing from Katsuki.
Her thumb hovered over his contact. Should she text him? Call him? What if he’s still mad? What if he doesn’t want to talk to me?
Rosie locked her phone and shoved it back into her purse, staring out the window instead.
“Where exactly are we going?” she asked.
“It’s a surprise!” Mina grinned, practically bouncing in her seat. “The girls are already on their way there—it’s gonna be amazing.”
Rosie tried to smile back, but her mind kept drifting to Katsuki. To the way his voice had sounded—sharp and bitter—when they fought. To the look on his face when he walked out.
She swallowed hard, gripping her hands tightly in her lap. Her thoughts drifting, she just hoped this trip would be enough to make her forget—if only for a little while.
The rhythmic thud thud thud of Katsuki’s fists hitting the punching bag filled the empty gym. His knuckles were raw and cracked, smeared with streaks of red from split skin. He ignored the sting, welcoming the pain. It was better than the mess raging inside his head— that constant loop of Rosie’s voice shouting back at him . The look in her eyes before she told him to leave. The way her voice shook— not in fear, but in frustration and heartbreak.
“Well, maybe you should just go, then!”
He gritted his teeth and hit the bag again, harder this time. It swung violently on its chain, creaking from the force. His chest was tight, his breath ragged. His mind kept circling back to her face— teary-eyed, furious, yet still so damn stubborn.
Growling, he snapped at himself, his thoughts loud, Why the hell did I explode like that?
He had been pissed—pissed at her, pissed at himself, pissed at that bastard who hurt her. But instead of handling it like someone who actually cared , he let all that anger boil over. His words had been sharp, his voice too loud— and then she said those words that hit him harder than any punch ever could.
“I don’t want to see you right now!”
He struck the bag again, harder this time—his knuckles screamed in protest, but he didn’t stop. The memory kept playing in his head like a broken record.
You didn’t just yell at her—you scared her.
The thought made his stomach twist. He remembered the way her eyes widened, like she wasn’t sure what he might do next. He would never hurt her—never— but the fact that he made her feel like that by shouting at her…
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, slamming his fist into the bag one last time.
He staggered back, chest heaving, sweat dripping down his face. His hand throbbed— raw, bruised, and bloody —but he barely noticed. He grabbed his water bottle off the bench, chugging half of it before pulling out his phone.
Kirishima.
He tapped the contact and pressed the phone to his ear. It rang twice before Kirishima picked up.
“Yo, man! What’s up?”
“Meet me at Plum,” Katsuki grunted. His voice was rougher than usual, strained from hours of hitting the bag. “I need a drink.”
“Oh… uh, yeah, sure! Everything okay?”
“Just meet me there,” Katsuki muttered before hanging up.
He sat on the bench for a moment, trying to calm the fire still burning in his chest. His fingers swiped absently across his phone screen— mindlessly scrolling—when a familiar face popped up.
It was Rosie’s Linked story. A photo of her and Mina at a gas station. Rosie had her head tilted back, drinking a smoothie while Mina stood at the pump, making some exaggerated peace sign at the camera.
Katsuki clenched his jaw. His thumb hovered over the screen for a second before he screenshot the image without thinking.
He stared at it. Rosie looked tired, like she hadn’t been sleeping much—but she was smiling. Laughing. The kind of smile she gave when Mina was being ridiculous, the one that reached her eyes.
Where the hell are they?
He tapped her profile, scrolling through her posts and tagged locations. Nothing recent—but then he noticed something in the background of her photo: a sign on the gas station with a logo he didn’t recognize.
That’s not in Tokyo.
His chest tightened as he started digging deeper—checking Mina’s profile, pulling up tagged locations, searching for anything that might give him a clue. After a few minutes, he found it—a post from Mina, only five minutes before Rosie’s.
“YOKOHAMA, HERE WE COME!!”
Katsuki’s stomach turned. She’s out of the city… and she didn’t tell me.
His grip tightened around his phone. The anger bubbled up again, sharp and hot— but this time, it wasn’t aimed at her.
Why would she tell you?
He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. Of course she didn’t tell him—he was the one who stormed out. The one who scared her. The one who left her feeling like she couldn’t talk to him.
“Fucking idiot,” he muttered under his breath.
The frustration boiled over, and before he could stop himself, he slammed his fist into the punching bag one last time— his palm sparked with heat, and the bag exploded with a loud BOOM , sand spilling out like a burst artery.
Chest heaving, Katsuki stood there, fists clenched at his sides. His breath hitched, and for a second, he felt like he might just… break apart.
Instead, he grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and stormed out the gym doors.
The drive to Yokohama had been long but surprisingly relaxing. The city’s skyline glimmered under the afternoon sun as Mina drove down winding streets, finally pulling into a cozy yet elegant resort tucked near the waterfront. The building wasn’t towering or flashy—instead, it felt warm and inviting, with stone pathways lined with lanterns and a lobby that smelled faintly of vanilla and cedarwood.
“Okay!” Mina clapped her hands as they stepped inside. “Let’s check in, drop our bags, and then we’re getting fancy, babe.”
Rosie let out a tired chuckle, dragging her suitcase behind her. The warm lighting and calm atmosphere felt like a breath of fresh air— exactly what she needed.
The check-in process was quick, and soon enough, the girls were in their rooms. Rosie’s was gorgeous— a king-sized bed with fluffy white pillows, soft cream walls, and a balcony that overlooked the bay. The sunset painted the sky in warm hues of orange and pink, and for a moment, she just stood there, taking it in.
A knock on her door broke her from her thoughts. Mina peeked in, grinning wide. “Shower, dress up, and look hot , okay?” she ordered. “We’re eating at that fancy restaurant downstairs. And don’t even think about wearing jeans unless you want me to throw you in one of my dresses.”
Rosie couldn’t help but smile. “Fine, fine. I’ll put in some effort.”
“Good.” Mina winked. “Now go shower!”
Laughing softly, Rosie grabbed her toiletry bag and stepped into the bathroom. The shower was heaven— steaming hot water that loosened her stiff muscles and made her feel human again.
But once the warmth started to fade and her mind began to wander, she felt it again—that gnawing ache in her chest. The pit in her stomach. Katsuki .
She sighed and turned the water off, wrapping herself in a towel. She dried her hair carefully, leaving it in soft waves before curling a few strands to frame her face. Her makeup routine was almost automatic—foundation, blush, a touch of eyeliner —but she paused halfway through applying her lipstick.
Her phone lay face down on the counter. She’d been avoiding checking it all evening. But now, her hand moved on its own, flipping it over.
Nothing.
Her stomach dropped.
No text. No missed call. No “are you okay?” or “I’m sorry”—not even a stupid “good night.”
Did I really mess things up that bad?
She swallowed the lump rising in her throat and forced herself to finish her makeup. By the time she slipped on her dress—a sleek black one with delicate lace sleeves—and buckled her heels, she’d managed to shove her worries down.
Tonight’s supposed to be a distraction. Just… have fun for once.
With one last glance at her phone—still nothing —she sighed, grabbed her clutch, and stepped out into the hall to meet the girls.
The pounding bass of Plum thudded through the walls, a relentless rhythm that seemed to rattle Katsuki’s already frayed nerves. The sharp scent of alcohol clung to the air, and laughter boomed from a nearby booth, yet all of it felt muted— distant . His focus narrowed only on the drink sitting in front of him and the man beside him.
“You look like shit,” Kirishima said, raising a brow as he nudged a glass closer to him. “I take it this has something to do with Rosie? And how Mina bolted out of here earlier, dragging a suitcase and hauling ass to Yokohama?”
Katsuki grunted, grabbing the drink and taking a long swig. It burned its way down his throat, but the sting didn’t quiet the frustration knotted in his chest.
“Yeah,” he muttered.
Kirishima leaned forward, elbows on the bar. “So… what did you do?”
Katsuki snorted bitterly, dragging a hand down his face. “Where the hell do I even start?” He set the glass down hard, the impact sharper than intended. “We had a fight,” he said flatly. “A bad one.”
Kirishima didn’t say anything, just waited—and somehow that silence made it easier for the words to spill out.
“I got pissed,” Katsuki muttered, staring into his drink. “She was scared, and I just… I fucking lost it. Told her I almost killed the guy who went after her. I didn’t mean to—it just came out.” He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Then she snapped back about me being on my phone all night— and she’s right, I was. But I wasn’t ignoring her. I was texting every goddamn contact I’ve got, trying to figure out how to keep her safe.”
He took another drink, fingers tightening around the glass. “And when I told her that? She thought I didn’t want to be there. Like I wasn’t losing my mind trying to hold everything together.” Katsuki exhaled shakily, his voice quieter now. “She said she didn’t want to see me.”
Kirishima’s expression softened. “Man…”
“I don’t even blame her,” Katsuki muttered, voice gruff. “I yelled at her like an asshole when all she needed was for me to just be there . And now she’s pissed—and hurt —and I don’t know what the hell to do.”
Kirishima took a thoughtful sip of his drink before setting it down. “You know Rosie,” he said. “She’s stubborn, yeah, but she’s not gonna give up on you that easy. You just… gotta show her you’re sorry. For real.”
“Yeah?” Katsuki huffed out a dry chuckle. “And how the hell am I supposed to do that?”
“Start simple,” Kirishima said. “Call her. Text her. Hell, show up at her door if you have to— just don’t let this sit too long . She’s hurt, man, and if you leave her stewing in that, she’s just gonna think you don’t care. Remember that she just went through a shit load of things that surely traumatized her.”
Katsuki grunted again, pulling out his phone and unlocking it. His home screen greeted him— Rosie’s smile shining bright as she blew him a playful kiss in the photo. She’d taken it one morning when she stole his phone, giggling as he tried to snatch it back. He remembered the warmth in her eyes, the way her fingers had tangled in his hair when she finally let him catch her.
His thumb hovered over her contact.
What the hell do I even say?
Groaning, Katsuki shoved his fingers through his hair, gripping it tight. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “How the hell do I make this up to her?”
“She’s pissed, yeah,” Kirishima said, clapping a firm hand on his shoulder. “But she’s also crazy about you. Just… don’t be a stubborn idiot and let your pride screw this up. ”
Katsuki gave a bitter snort. “Yeah, easier said than done.”
But he knew Kirishima was right.
He glanced back down at the photo of Rosie, her face beaming at him like sunshine—like home. Don’t screw this up, idiot.
“Think about what to say first before you fuck things up further,” Kirishima stated. “Now, let’s drink in the meantime!”
He wasn't sure how much time went by, as all he knew was that he needed to keep drinking which is what he did, he drank glass after glass. Katsuki downed his drink in one harsh gulp, the burn spreading down his throat and settling like fire in his chest. He barely let the glass hit the bar before motioning to the bartender for another.
“Oi, maybe slow down a bit?” Kirishima muttered, eyeing him warily.
Katsuki ignored him, fingers tightening around the fresh glass as soon as it was set in front of him. He tossed it back just as fast, barely tasting the bitterness. It wasn’t enough—none of it was. The ache in his chest hadn’t budged, and his thoughts kept circling back to Rosie— her voice cracking when she’d told him to leave, the way her face had twisted with frustration and hurt.
Another drink. He needed another drink.
“Katsuki,” Kirishima said again, voice firmer this time. “Look, I know you’re feeling like shit, but maybe we should—”
“I’m fine,” Katsuki cut him off, slurring just slightly. He waved down the bartender again.
“You’re not fine,” Kirishima countered. “You’re just getting trashed.”
“Good.” Katsuki’s laugh was bitter as the bartender poured him another. He grabbed the glass and downed it in two swigs. His limbs were heavy now, warm and sluggish, and his head buzzed in that dangerous way that meant he was too far gone to care.
“Hey,” a voice purred beside him. Feminine. Sweet. Too sweet.
Katsuki barely turned his head as a girl sidled up to him, her smile coy and practiced. She wore a low-cut dress, all glitter and shine, and her gaze flickered from his face to his bruised knuckles.
“Rough night?” she asked, voice lilting.
“Yeah,” Katsuki muttered, voice gravelly. He took another drink, ignoring the way Kirishima shifted uncomfortably beside him.
“Well…” Her fingers trailed lightly over his arm. “Maybe I can make it better.”
Katsuki snorted, shaking her off. “Not interested.”
“Oh, come on,” she cooed, leaning closer. “You sure?”
Before he could snap at her, his phone buzzed against the counter. He fumbled for it, squinting blearily at the notification.
Rosie posted a photo
His thumb slipped as he tapped it open, the screen swimming for a moment before sharpening into focus—and what he saw made his chest tighten painfully.
Rosie.
She is gorgeous—breathtaking in that clingy, black dress that hugged every curve. Her hair was curled, her makeup perfect, and in her hand was a cocktail that she held with delicate fingers. She was smiling—really smiling—but what made his stomach twist was the faint blur of Mina in the background, clearly laughing at something.
She’s having fun without you, his mind sneered. She’s moved on. You’re just here getting wasted like a pathetic idiot.
His fingers clenched hard around his phone, jealousy curling hot and vicious in his chest. He could barely stand it— knowing Rosie was out there looking like that, far away from him, somewhere crowded with strangers. What if some bastard was looking at her the way he always did? What if someone was sweet-talking her right now?
His breathing hitched, and before he could stop himself, he reached for another drink.
“Katsuki…” Kirishima warned.
“Shut up,” Katsuki muttered, knocking the shot back hard enough to make his vision blur. The burn was dull now, more warmth than fire, and the girl beside him smiled wider, clearly sensing his unraveling state. "I changed my mind."
“You need a cab?” she asked, her fingers tracing up his arm again. “I can call you one to your place for the both of us.”
Katsuki stared at her for a beat longer than necessary, his head swimming. “Yeah,” he muttered hoarsely, dragging his phone from his pocket. His hands were shaking too much to focus. He cursed under his breath and shoved the phone toward her instead. “Here,” he growled. “Just… just do it. ”
She giggled softly, voice syrupy-sweet. “Of course,” she purred, her fingers curling around the phone like she’d won something.
Kirishima sighed, shaking his head as he flagged down the bartender. “I’m cutting him off,” he muttered. “And I’m riding with you in that cab, man.”
Katsuki glared, his words slurring, “hell no, just the chick and I.”
“What about Rosie?”
He barely heard him. His thoughts were spinning—Rosie’s smile burned behind his eyes, making his chest ache worse than any drink could numb. “Don’t worry about it,” he snapped then turned to the woman, barking, “hurry up!”
Rosie giggled as she stumbled through the hallway, her arm linked with Mina’s as they swayed side to side. The faint buzz of music still echoed in her ears, and her skin was warm from the hours spent dancing under flashing lights. Her legs ached, her throat was hoarse from singing along to bad karaoke, and her heart felt lighter than it had in days.
“You okay?” Mina slurred, blinking heavily as they reached Rosie’s door.
“Yeah,” Rosie smiled, her face flushed. “I’m good… tired though. ”
“’Kay…” Mina yawned, dragging out the word. “’Member… if you feel sad again... I’ll come sleep with you.”
Rosie chuckled softly, feeling a warm swell of affection for her friend. “Yeah, yeah… Go get some sleep.”
With that, Mina stumbled off to her own room, mumbling something about snacks as she fumbled with her key. Rosie shook her head fondly and swayed into her room, shutting the door behind her.
The first thing to go were her heels—she yanked them off and practically threw them across the room, groaning as her bare feet hit the cool floor.
“Better…” she mumbled, blinking through the haze of her buzz.
Stumbling toward the bathroom, she grabbed a makeup wipe and began lazily dragging it across her face. Mascara smeared under her eyes, and her lipstick refused to budge until she scrubbed hard enough to leave her lips stinging. She barely had the energy to care.
Her dress clung to her sticky skin, and she cursed softly as she struggled with the zipper before finally peeling the thing off and tossing it toward her suitcase. She turned the shower on and stepped beneath the spray, the warm water rinsing away sweat, makeup, and the lingering fog of alcohol.
By the time she emerged, towel-drying her hair and slipping into her pajamas— a soft, oversized tee and loose shorts —her head felt clearer. She still felt warm, a little sleepy, but the world had mostly stopped spinning.
Rosie sighed, crawling toward her bed when— Knock, knock, knock.
She froze.
...Mina?
Maybe Mina remembered her promise. Rosie smiled faintly, padding over to the door.
“I’m fine, you don’t have to— ” She opened the door and stopped cold.
It wasn’t Mina.
It was Katsuki.
He stood in the hallway, one arm braced against the doorframe like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His hair was wild, sticking up in messy tufts, and his face was flushed— bright red across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. His crimson eyes, hazy and half-lidded, blinked sluggishly at her.
“…Rosie,” he mumbled, voice rough and uneven.
Her stomach twisted sharply. “Katsuki? What are you—”
“I’m sorry,” he cut her off, the words tumbling out in a rush. His hand clenched against the doorframe, like he was holding himself back. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it…”
His voice cracked on the last word, and before she could ask what he meant, he swayed—almost tipping forward. Rosie reached out instinctively, but Katsuki caught himself, blinking hard like he was fighting to stay steady.
“I didn’t wanna leave,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t’ve yelled. Should’ve stayed. Should’ve…” His breath hitched, and his gaze dropped to the floor. “I should’ve just… stayed .”
“Katsuki…” Rosie started, stepping closer, but before she could say anything more, he stumbled forward— and suddenly he was sinking to his knees in front of her.
Her breath caught.
“Please…” His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, his face pressing into her stomach as his fingers fisted desperately in her shirt. “I’m sorry,” he rasped again, voice thick and slurred. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”
Rosie’s heart twisted painfully. “Hey…” she whispered, her fingers threading into his hair without thinking. “Hey, it’s okay—”
“It’s not,” he choked out, shaking his head against her. “I—I said all that shit, and I— fuck —I didn’t mean any of it. I was just… I was so angry and scared, and I didn’t know what to do, and I left. I fucking left you. ”
His voice cracked, and his fingers clutched at her like she might disappear at any second. “I didn’t wanna leave,” he whispered, voice breaking. “I just— I was scared, and I’m so sorry… ”
Rosie’s breath caught. He was never like this— never so vulnerable, so raw. Katsuki was fire and stubborn pride, always burning too bright and pushing too hard. But now… now he was just this . Drunk, broken, and holding on to her like she was the only thing that mattered.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered again, his voice muffled against her stomach. “I adore you so much—I don’t know how to—how to do this right. I just… I just wanted you to be safe, and I didn’t know what to say without screwing everything up. ”
Her chest tightened painfully. The tears she’d been holding back since their fight finally spilled over, slipping down her cheeks.
But despite everything—despite the fight, despite the words they’d thrown at each other—she knew she’d already forgiven him.
Because she’d been wrong, too. She’d accused him of not caring, knowing damn well that Katsuki cared about her— so much that he burned himself out over it. He was always so intense, so passionate, and she knew now that he hadn’t been ignoring her that night—he’d been trying to keep his anger in check, trying to keep himself from lashing out when all he really wanted was to keep her safe.
And she hadn’t seen it. Instead of talking to him, she’d snapped. And now here he was—drunk, vulnerable, and clinging to her like she was his anchor.
“Oh, Katsuki…” she whispered, sinking down to her knees with him. She cupped his face in her hands, gently tilting his head up. His crimson eyes were glassy, rimmed red from exhaustion and alcohol. “I’m sorry too…” her voice wavered, barely above a whisper. “I shouldn’t have said those things—I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. ”
“You were right,” Katsuki croaked. “I wasn’t listening—I should’ve just— should’ve… ” He let out a choked breath and closed his eyes tightly. “I should’ve been better .”
“No…” Rosie shook her head, tears still falling. “I pushed you away. I was scared too, and I just… I didn’t know how to say it.”
“You’re not losin’ me,” Katsuki muttered, his hands tightening on her waist again. “Not now… not ever.”
“I know,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I know.”
For a moment, they just held each other, tangled together on the floor like they were afraid to let go. Rosie’s fingers carded through his hair while Katsuki clung to her like she was his lifeline.
Finally, Rosie whispered, “Come on… let’s get you to bed.”
“Don’t wanna,” Katsuki mumbled, his face still buried against her. “Wanna stay right here.”
“You’re gonna hate yourself in the morning if you don’t,” she said gently.
“Rosie…” Katsuki’s voice slurred out as he tugged on her shirt again, his fingers clumsy but insistent. “C’mere…”
“You’re a mess,” she mumbled, trying to sound exasperated even as her heart squeezed painfully in her chest.
“I don’t care,” he muttered, eyes slipping shut before snapping back open. “Jus’ wanna hold you…”
Rosie sighed, brushing her fingers through his hair. “Alright, but first… let’s get you cleaned up. ”
“No…” Katsuki’s grip on her shirt tightened, his voice suddenly small and stubborn. “Stay…”
“I am staying,” she promised gently. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? But you’re gonna feel like hell in the morning if I don’t sober you up a little.”
His brow furrowed, like he was deciding whether or not to believe her. After a moment, he finally let her go— but only so she could help him sit up.
“C’mon,” she coaxed, sliding her arm under his. “Let’s get you out of this.”
She reached for the hem of his shirt, and Katsuki sluggishly raised his arms, letting her tug it over his head. The heat of his skin hit her immediately—he was so warm, radiating like a furnace. She tried to ignore the way her fingers tingled as she brushed against his bare chest.
“You’re blushing…” Katsuki mumbled, a lazy, almost smug smile creeping onto his face.
“I am not ,” she shot back, voice tight.
“Y’are…” He leaned forward suddenly, nuzzling his face against her shoulder with a low, contented sigh. “So cute… ”
Rosie froze, heat rushing to her face. “Okay, big guy,” she muttered, trying to steady her voice as she guided him to sit back against the headboard. “Stay there . Don’t move.”
She hurried to grab a bottle of water from the mini fridge, twisting the cap off and returning to his side. “Drink this,” she instructed, placing the bottle in his hand.
Katsuki blinked at it like he barely understood what he was holding.
“Water,” Rosie pressed. “Drink it, or you’re gonna hate yourself in the morning.”
Grumbling under his breath, Katsuki took a few long sips, water trickling down his chin. Rosie grabbed a tissue and wiped it away before setting the bottle on the nightstand.
“Good,” she murmured. “I’m gonna order you some food too, okay?”
She reached for her phone, but before she could dial, Katsuki’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist.
“Don’t go,” he muttered, voice thick with desperation. “Please…”
“Okay,” she said softly.
He didn’t let go. Instead, he tugged her closer, and before she knew it, she was sitting beside him on the bed. He immediately wrapped an arm around her waist, pressing his face against her neck.
“Missed you,” he mumbled into her skin, his breath warm and ticklish. “Missed you so much…”
Rosie’s heart stuttered in her chest. “I know…” she whispered, her fingers brushing over his hair again.
“You’re my girl,” Katsuki slurred, his voice cracking. “Don’t care what anyone says. You’re mine… ”
Rosie swallowed thickly, her breath catching. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I’m yours…”
His arms tightened around her, holding her close like she was something precious, something safe , And even as his breathing slowed and his grip loosened slightly, his fingers still curled into her shirt like he couldn’t bear to let go.
Rosie stirred with a low groan, her body stretching lazily beneath the sheets. She felt like she’d slept for days—her limbs heavy, her mind hazy with warmth and comfort. Blinking blearily, she turned over, and her gaze landed on Katsuki.
He was still asleep, shirtless, and sprawled on his back with one arm tucked behind his head. His hair was a mess of golden spikes against the pillow, and the faint rise and fall of his chest made her heart skip a beat. His face, usually so sharp and intense, looked completely relaxed in sleep— peaceful, even.
Rosie shifted closer, crawling over to him on her knees. She settled back on her legs, just watching him— soaking in the rare softness of him like she was memorizing it. Her eyes traced the sharp lines of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the faint scar that cut through his brow. Her gaze drifted down, following the toned muscles of his chest and the faint scars that littered his skin— all reminders of how fiercely he fought for what he loved and cared about.
She reached out without thinking, her fingertips brushing lightly along his arm—and suddenly, Katsuki’s hand shot out, snatching her wrist.
With a rough grunt, he tugged her forward, and before she could react, she was sprawled across his chest.
“Ah—Katsuki!” she yelped, her face burning as she found herself straddling his waist.
His smirk was lazy, his crimson eyes still half-lidded with sleep. “Mornin’,” he drawled, his voice low and gravelly.
“You’re impossible,” Rosie muttered, squirming to sit up—but Katsuki’s hands slid down to her waist, dragging her back down before she could escape.
“Where d’you think you’re goin’, huh?” he murmured, his lips curling as he tugged her closer. Before she could protest, he tilted his head up and kissed her.
It was warm and slow, his lips moving lazily against hers like he had no intention of letting her go anytime soon. Rosie sighed into the kiss, her fingers tangling in his hair as she melted against him. When she finally pulled back, breathless and smiling, Katsuki’s grin widened.
“This is a girls’ trip, y’know,” Rosie giggled, still trying to sound stern despite the way her heart was hammering.
“Kicking me out already, doll?” Katsuki teased, his fingers still playing at her waist.
She rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately, yes.”
Katsuki groaned dramatically, dropping his head back against the pillow like he’d been mortally wounded. “How long?”
“Two days.”
“Too long,” he grumbled. His hand slid lower, fingers toying with the hem of her shorts. “Don’t wanna be apart that long.”
Rosie laughed softly, brushing her fingers through his hair. “You’ll live. Take care of my daughter for me, yeah?”
Katsuki snorted, cracking one eye open. “Our daughter,” he corrected smugly.
“Oh?” Rosie arched a brow, grinning. “Since when did you adopt her?”
“The minute you became mine,” Katsuki said without missing a beat. “That’s when she became mine too.”
“What a kind stepdad you are,” she teased with a giggle.
“Damn right,” Katsuki muttered—and then, suddenly, his grip on her waist tightened, flipping her beneath him in one swift motion.
“Ah—!” Rosie gasped, her back hitting the mattress as Katsuki hovered over her. His breath ghosted against her lips, and before she could catch her breath, his mouth was on hers again.
This kiss was different— hungrier, deeper. His hand slid along her side, fingers pressing firmly into her hip as his body pressed against hers. Rosie whimpered softly, her nails biting into his shoulders as he kissed her like he was trying to make up for every second they’d spent apart.
“Missed you,” Katsuki muttered between kisses, his voice low and rough. He shifted, his knee slipping between her legs as his hips ground against her in slow, deliberate rolls.
Rosie’s breath hitched, her fingers curling tighter in his hair. “Katsuki…” she whimpered, arching into him without thinking.
“Yeah?” His voice was low, teasing—but there was an unmistakable edge of need in it. His lips brushed along her jaw, trailing down to her neck, where he nipped at her skin just enough to make her shiver.
“Need you,” Rosie whispered, her voice catching.
“Yeah?” Katsuki murmured again, his lips curling against her skin. His hips rolled against hers once more, and Rosie let out a soft, broken sound that he swallowed with another kiss.
“Missed you so fuckin’ much,” Katsuki muttered, his breath hot against her lips.
Rosie barely had time to answer before he was kissing her again—fierce and desperate, like he couldn’t get enough of her. And God, she didn’t want him to stop.
Notes:
I love writing Katsuki like this and I'm so tempted to write drunk, needy, clingy, and vulnerable Katsuki again lol
Chapter 68: Yet, it was Katsuki between her legs giving her an orgasm that already topped her weekend.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie sat at the round table, lazily chewing on a forkful of sausage and eggs drenched in syrup. The sweet and savory mix danced on her tongue, but her mind was miles away— lingering in a foggy daze of warmth, soft sheets, and a certain explosive blond.
Around her, Momo, Uraraka, Tsuyu, and Toru were all staring, their wide eyes fixed on her like she’d just announced she was quitting adventuring to become a professional juggler.
“Who knew a night of drinking and dancing would improve her mood this much?” Toru giggled, her voice light and teasing.
“I dunno…” Uraraka murmured thoughtfully. “That’s… not the kind of look I’d have after just drinking and dancing.”
Snapping out of her daze, Rosie blinked and forced a sheepish smile. “I just finally got some sleep, that’s all,” she said, voice deliberately casual.
The girls exchanged knowing looks but, thankfully, none of them pressed further. Instead, they turned back to their conversation, chatting about the best places to grab coffee nearby.
Rosie let out a small sigh of relief, sinking back into her chair. The last thing she wanted was to explain why she couldn’t stop smiling like some lovestruck fool. Not that anyone needed to know what had really happened. Especially since it was an orgasm that had put her in such a lovely mood.
Her mind drifted again, pulling her back to the warmth of Katsuki’s body pressed against hers, his breath ghosting over her skin…
"Please…please, darling…” Rosie’s breath came out in shaky pants, tears leaking down her face as her fingers twisted the sheets beneath her. “I’m so close…”
Katsuki knelt between her spread legs, two fingers buried inside her, curling and thrusting at a slow, torturous pace that had her shaking. Her thighs trembled, her stomach tightening with that delicious, unbearable tension.
“Fuck, doll,” Katsuki growled, licking his teeth as his gaze locked on her. “So pretty crying like that…”
Her flushed face was damp with sweat, her hair clinging to her forehead as she moaned—soft and helpless, clinging to the pleasure he kept building inside her.
“Such a good girl you are for me,” he purred, his smile almost wicked as his fingers curled just right—that perfect spot that had Rosie crying out his name in a desperate, half-sobbed scream.
“Keep those pretty eyes on me,” Katsuki murmured, his voice low and firm. “Wanna see you fall apart on my hand.”
Rosie barely managed to keep her gaze on him as she shattered, her whole body trembling beneath him as her climax hit. Her back arched, her mouth falling open in a choked moan. Katsuki didn’t stop, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until she was spent and shaking.
“Such a good girl…” His voice was softer now, a warm murmur as he leaned over her, brushing his lips gently against hers. “So fuckin’ pretty…”
Rosie could only hum in response, her limbs heavy and her mind blissfully foggy. Katsuki finally withdrew his fingers, dragging them slowly over her sensitive skin before bringing them to his mouth, licking them clean with a lazy grin.
“Kats…” Rosie whined, reaching for him.
He shook his head, chuckling darkly. “As much as I’d love to drag your perfect ass back to Tokyo,” he muttered, reaching for her discarded shorts and tugging them back up her legs, “Mina would kick my ass.”
Rosie let out a breathless sigh, still recovering as Katsuki helped her sit up. He pressed a kiss to her forehead—warm, soft, and grounding.
“We’ll spend time together when I get back home, right?” she asked, her voice small as she pouted up at him.
“Obviously.” Katsuki snorted like it was the dumbest question in the world.
Rosie watched as he pulled his shirt back over his head, her fingers playing with the edge of the pillow in her lap. “I can’t believe you actually drove all the way here just to apologize,” she muttered. “You really shouldn’t drive when you’re drunk, that’s not safe.”
Katsuki scoffed, rolling his eyes. “First off, you’re always on my mind, drunk or not and you left without telling me. I needed to come see you and ensure you were safe. Second,” he smirked, “you really think I’d drive drunk? I took a cab.”
Crawling to the edge of the bed, Rosie wrapped her arms around his neck, her smile widening. “Ohhh,” she hummed.
“Yeah, took it with Kiri. I assume he’s with Mina right now.” Katsuki’s hand slid down to her back and landed on her ass, giving her a teasing pinch that made her squeal.
“So you both paid for a cab to come all the way here?”
“Neither of us paid,” he shrugged.
Rosie blinked. “What?”
“There was this chick at Plum,” Katsuki muttered with a grimace. “She wouldn’t leave me alone even after I told her I wasn’t interested. So I told her to call us a cab—she rode with us all the way here, with Kirishima between us, and when we got out of the cab… I left her to pay the fare.”
Rosie’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“She should’ve listened the first time I said I wasn’t interested,” Katsuki huffed like it was the most reasonable thing in the world.
“Was she angry?”
He smirked, “she looked livid when I slammed the door in her face.”
Rosie snorted, shaking her head in disbelief. “Have I told you that I really like you?”
Katsuki’s grin widened. “Not today.”
Humming, Rosie kissed his jaw. “I really, really like you.” Then, before he could respond, she grabbed his collar and tugged him back down to the bed, her leg hooking over his waist as his hands eagerly roamed her body again.
“Good morning, guys!” Mina’s bright voice jolted Rosie back to the present, yanking her out of her very steamy thoughts.
Rosie blinked, startled as Mina dropped into the seat beside her, still in her pajamas. Her sharp gaze flicked to Mina’s shoulder, where faint teeth marks peeked out from beneath her shirt.
Looks like Kiri and Mina had a great time last night and this morning… Rosie thought, suppressing a giggle as she took another bite of her pancakes.
“Alright!” Mina clapped her hands together excitedly. “Here’s the plan for today!”
Rosie raised a brow. “We have a plan?”
“Of course we do!” Mina grinned. “First up, we’re going to that paint-and-sip class—they’ve got this whole autumn theme thing going on, and the wine selection is amazing .”
Rosie hummed approvingly.
“Then after that, we’ve got mimosas by the heated pool.”
“Ohhh,” Toru gasped, her invisible hands clapping excitedly.
“And then ,” Mina continued, “we’ve got a yoga class—but it’s a puppy yoga class!”
“Wait, puppies?” Uraraka’s eyes lit up.
“Yup! Little fluff balls just run around while we attempt poses.” Mina grinned. “After that, we’ll grab a late lunch, head for mani-pedis, and then head back to the hotel to get ready for the comedy show tonight.”
“Damn, Mina,” Rosie laughed, “you’ve really thought of everything.”
“Of course I did!” Mina grinned. “We’re gonna make the most of this trip.”
Rosie smiled, warmth blooming in her chest. A weekend full of laughs, wine, and good company sounded exactly like what she needed— even if she’d be missing Katsuki. Yet, it was Katsuki between her legs giving her an orgasm that already topped her weekend.
The paint-splattered room buzzed with warm laughter and light conversation. Rosie sat cross-legged on a wooden stool, a half-empty glass of sweet, fruity wine cradled in her hand. The tangy taste of berries lingered on her tongue as she took another sip, setting the glass down with a content sigh.
In front of her stood her canvas—a brave attempt at replicating the cheerful autumn landscape displayed on the instructor’s easel. The trees in the sample painting were a vibrant explosion of gold, orange, and red, with a cozy little cabin tucked beneath their branches. Rosie’s version… well, her cabin was a little crooked, and her leaves looked more like fiery blobs than delicate foliage, but she was having too much fun to care.
“This looks awful ,” Mina groaned beside her, dragging her brush down the canvas. “Why does my tree look like a hairy potato?”
Rosie snorted into her wine glass. “At least you have trees—mine look like they’re on fire.”
“You guys are being dramatic,” Momo chimed in from Rosie’s other side, dabbing her brush in soft orange paint. Her landscape was practically perfect— of course. “You’re supposed to enjoy the process, not aim for perfection.”
“Oh sure, Miss Natural Talent ,” Mina teased, grinning.
Across the table, Uraraka, Tsuyu, and Toru were giggling wildly, their own paintings equally chaotic. Toru’s canvas had inexplicable streaks of purple where no purple should be, and Uraraka’s leaves had somehow turned into star shapes.
“I think mine’s abstract!” Toru declared proudly, raising her brush like a victory flag.
“Mine’s a disaster,” Uraraka giggled, wine sloshing dangerously close to the rim of her glass.
“Cheers to disaster art!” Rosie called out, raising her wine glass.
“Cheers!” the girls chorused, glasses clinking before they all dissolved into giggles once more.
Later that afternoon, Rosie lay stretched out on a cushioned pool chair, soaking in the warmth of the sun. Her new white bikini, speckled with cute pink hearts, hugged her figure comfortably, and the golden rays kissed her skin. A mimosa sat perched on the small table beside her, condensation dripping lazily down the glass.
With one hand, she flipped the page of her very steamy romance novel, her cheeks warm for reasons that had nothing to do with the sun.
“Are you seriously blushing over there?” Uraraka teased from the chair beside her. She wore a pastel blue swimsuit, one arm draped lazily over her eyes as she relaxed.
“I—I am not ,” Rosie sputtered, snapping her book shut and reaching for her drink to hide her face.
“You so are!” Toru giggled, her voice floating from her lounge chair.
“Maybe it’s just the mimosas,” Rosie mumbled into her glass.
In the heated pool, Mina, Momo, Jirou, and Tsuyu drifted lazily on colorful floats, their drinks in hand. Mina’s vibrant laugh echoed through the air as she splashed at Jirou, who retaliated with a dramatic wave of her hand that nearly tipped Mina off her float.
“You good up there, Rosie?” Mina called out with a grin.
“Better than you if you flip that float!” Rosie shot back.
“Please,” Mina scoffed, flipping her hair dramatically. “I’m a pro .”
The second she finished her sentence, Jirou bumped her float just hard enough to send Mina splashing into the water.
“You witch !” Mina’s sputtered yell sent everyone into peals of laughter.
The yoga room smelled faintly of lavender and fresh laundry, the air buzzing with soft music and the occasional excited bark.
Rosie knelt on her yoga mat, her hands stretched out in front of her as she attempted a lazy downward dog. But instead of focusing on her breathing, her attention was entirely consumed by the golden retriever puppy that had flopped onto her mat, its wiggly tail wagging furiously as it tried to gnaw on her fingers.
“Oh nooo,” Rosie cooed dramatically, scooping the puppy into her arms. “Looks like I can’t do yoga anymore.”
“Wow, such a tragedy,” Momo teased from her mat, a fluffy corgi nestled against her legs.
Mina, sprawled on her back with two tiny puppies curled on her stomach, waved a lazy hand in the air. “Yeah, I think I’ve transcended. I am the yoga mat now.”
“I haven’t done a single pose,” Uraraka admitted, giggling as she sat cross-legged while a dachshund puppy licked her face enthusiastically.
“I don’t think anyone came here for yoga,” Jirou snorted, trying half-heartedly to hold a warrior pose before giving up entirely to scratch behind a puppy’s ears.
“Puppy therapy was clearly the better choice,” Tsui added, her soft smile warming the room.
The late lunch spot was a cozy bistro tucked into a corner of the town square. The girls claimed a long table near the window, sunlight streaming in as the scent of freshly baked bread filled the air.
Rosie twirled her fork in a plate of creamy pasta, stealing glances around the table at her friends. Mina was animatedly recounting her victorious revenge splash on Jirou, complete with dramatic gestures. Toru was halfway through a towering sandwich, pausing only to gasp with laughter.
“You guys have no idea how hard I’m gonna sleep tonight,” Uraraka groaned happily, rubbing her full stomach.
“Same,” Rosie agreed, taking a sip of her iced tea. “Today was perfect.”
“It’s not over yet!” Mina reminded them, wagging her fork like a warning. “We’ve still got a comedy show tonight— and I fully expect one of us to end up heckling the comedian.”
“It’s going to be you,” Jirou deadpanned.
“Bold of you to assume,” Mina shot back, grinning wide.
Rosie leaned back in her chair, warmth pooling in her chest. She’d missed this— the easy laughter, the comfort of good friends, and the rare feeling of peace that came with it.
It was easy to ignore the feelings of panic, fear, and paranoia she had started to wear like a worn sweater. The itchy, uncomfortable, and harsh feel.
The soft hum of foot massages and quiet conversation filled the air as Rosie reclined in the plush salon chair, her fingers stretched out as a nail technician painted her nails a soft pink. The sharp scent of acetone mingled with lavender-scented oils, creating a strangely calming atmosphere. Her toes were already tucked neatly into foam separators, each nail freshly coated in a glossy pink polish.
It was easy to ignore the gnawing feelings of panic, fear, and paranoia she had started to wear like a worn sweater— that itchy, uncomfortable, and harsh feeling that clung to her skin. Surrounded by her friends, giggling over wine and beauty treatments, she let herself sink into the comfort of it all.
“So…” Rosie began, her voice light as she took another sip of her wine. “I’ve been reading this new book— a dark romance. ”
“Oooh,” Mina grinned, her eyes glinting with interest as a nail tech carefully painted a bold red polish on her fingers. “Spicy?”
“Oh yeah,” Rosie laughed, cheeks warming. “But the main plot’s this whole thing about an arranged marriage. Like.. .forced into a relationship for power and family status. ”
“Ohhh, I love that trope,” Uraraka chimed in, wiggling her freshly polished toes.
“I dunno,” Jirou muttered, sipping her wine. “That just sounds exhausting. Imagine being stuck with someone you don’t even like?”
“Yeah, but imagine if he was hot ,” Mina argued, wagging her wine glass dramatically. “Like, tall, brooding, and ridiculously rich? I could deal with that.”
“You’d last a week,” Jirou snorted.
“I’d make it work!” Mina shot back.
“I think it’d depend,” Momo added thoughtfully. “If they were kind and respectful, I could see it working. Some arranged marriages actually become really strong partnerships.”
“That’s true,” Tsui murmured. “But if it’s just some jerk who thinks they can control you? No thanks ribbit.”
“Yeah, I’d bail immediately,” Toru agreed. “I’d be out the second he said, ‘ You’re mine. ’”
“Oh please,” Mina laughed. “If some hot mafia guy growled ‘ You’re mine ’ at you, you’d swoon .”
Toru huffed, however her voice cracked,“I would not !”
“You totally would,” Uraraka giggled, taking another sip of wine.
“Okay, okay,” Rosie grinned, holding up her hands to stop the playful bickering. “So... consensus ?”
“If he’s hot and rich, maybe,” Mina declared.
“If he’s kind, then yes,” Momo added.
“If he’s a jerk, no way,” Tsuyu said firmly.
“I’m just here for the wine,” Jirou deadpanned, making everyone laugh.
By the time dinner rolled around, the girls had changed into their finest outfits, all dressed to the nines. Rosie wore a sleek black dress that hugged her curves just right, her hair falling in soft waves down her shoulders. The restaurant they’d chosen was upscale yet cozy, with flickering candles casting a golden glow over the dark wood tables.
Their glasses clinked as they toasted to their girls’ trip, red wine swirling in delicate stems. Plates of rich pasta, grilled meats, and vibrant salads filled the table, and the sound of their laughter carried through the restaurant like a melody.
“Okay,” Mina started, placing her wine glass down with a grin. “New topic— if you had to choose one book boyfriend to marry, who would it be? ”
“Ohhh,” Uraraka gasped. “Wait, do they have to be good guys?”
“Absolutely not,” Mina smirked.
Rosie giggled. “I’d pick Mordekai from Scarlet Vows. He’s possessive, but like... in a hot way.”
“Oh my God, yes!” Mina squealed. “I love him!”
“Not me,” Jirou cut in. “I’d go for someone chill... like Levi from The Devil’s wife. Quiet but secretly sweet? Sign me up.”
“Levi is adorable,” Tsui agreed with a small smile.
“Okay, but what about an actual villain?” Mina pushed. “Like... morally gray .”
“You just wanna marry a psycho,” Uraraka teased.
“I’m just saying,” Mina grinned, raising her glass again. “A little danger’s hot.”
“She’s not wrong,” Rosie smiled from underneath her glass.
Rosie couldn’t stop laughing, warmth blooming in her chest. The night felt easy, like she could let go of everything weighing her down— the doubts, the anxiety, the creeping thoughts that tried to pull her back into her own head.
For now, she was here— wine in her hand, friends by her side, and laughter filling the air like music. And not being chased in the woods by a chainsaw wielding hitman/kidnapper.
Getting ready for bed that night, Rosie hummed softly as she finished washing her face. The warm water trickled down her skin as she rinsed away the gentle cleanser, leaving her face feeling fresh and cool. As she reached for a towel, her phone began buzzing from the nightstand.
Curious, she padded back into the room, drying her face with one hand and grabbing her phone with the other. The screen lit up with an incoming FaceTime call: Pomchi💖
A smile tugged at her lips as she answered, walking back into the bathroom. “Hey, Pomchi,” she greeted, propping her phone up against the wall by the sink.
The image of Katsuki filled the screen—shirtless, with his black gaming headset resting snugly over his spiky hair. Maya, their little furball of a dog, was curled up comfortably in his lap.
“Doll,” he greeted, his voice softer than usual. “Getting ready for bed?”
“Mmhm,” she hummed, squeezing toothpaste onto her toothbrush. “Lemme just finish up.”
He smirked slightly, watching her through the screen as she began brushing her teeth. “Bet you’re tired as hell,” he muttered, scratching behind Maya’s ear. “Been a long day for me too.”
Rosie hummed in question through her toothbrush.
“Yeah,” Katsuki continued, shifting back against the couch. “Got home, grabbed a shower, then swung by Kiri’s place to pick up Maya. Apparently, she spent half the day terrorizing his cat.”
Rosie paused mid-brush and snorted, nearly choking on toothpaste.
“I’m serious!” Katsuki chuckled. “Kiri said she was chasin’ the poor thing all around his apartment. Knocked over a vase. Dumbass thought Maya was a stuffed animal or somethin' and then freaked out when she barked.” He shook his head. “Kiri’s lucky I didn’t just leave her there out of spite.”
Rosie giggled, finishing up her brushing and spitting into the sink. After rinsing her mouth, she wiped her face with a clean towel and grinned at the screen. “Sounds like Maya had a great day.”
“Oh yeah,” Katsuki drawled sarcastically. “Best day of her life, got her ice cream for her behavior and she’s been following me on running errands all day.” Maya’s sleepy little face wrinkled in response to her name, earning a soft chuckle from Katsuki.
“So what about you?” Katsuki asked, leaning forward slightly. “What’ve you been up to?”
Rosie propped her phone back up on the sink and started to moisturize her face. “Oh! Well, first we went to this cute paint-and-sip class,” she began. “Momo’s painting came out amazing, of course, but Mina and I kinda… well, ours looked questionable at best.”
“Yeah?” Katsuki smirked. “What’d you paint?”
“An owl,” Rosie grinned sheepishly. “But mine looked like a demonic muppet.”
Katsuki snorted. “Sounds about right.”
“Then we went to the pool,” she continued. “I got a new bikini—super cute, white with little pink hearts. I’ll have to show you sometime.”
“Oh?” Katsuki’s grin turned sharp. “Yeah, you better.”
“ Anyway ,” she rolled her eyes with a smile, “then we went to this puppy yoga class.”
Katsuki blinked. “The hell is puppy yoga ?”
“You’re supposed to do yoga,” Rosie laughed, “but really it’s just an excuse to roll around on the floor with a bunch of puppies.”
“Sounds dumb,” Katsuki muttered, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.
“It was adorable,” Rosie insisted. “And then after that, we went out for lunch and got our nails done.” She held her hand up to the camera, wiggling her fingers. “Look! Cute, right?”
Katsuki studied her nails with a soft grunt of approval. “Pink suits you, pretty girl.”
Rosie beamed at the compliment before grabbing her phone and walking back to her room. She flicked off the bathroom light, climbed into bed, and set her phone back on the charger, propping it up on her nightstand so Katsuki could still see her. She burrowed into the blankets, curling into her pillow with a contented sigh.
“Very tired, yeah, doll?” Katsuki murmured.
“Mmhm,” Rosie hummed sleepily, her voice muffled by her pillow. “Miss you, Pomchi…”
“Yeah?” His voice softened. “Miss you too, baby.”
“Can you…” Her words slurred slightly as she blinked drowsily at the screen. “Can you stay on the phone with me?”
Katsuki chuckled lowly. “Won’t I keep you up?”
She shook her head, her hair spilling over her face. “Your voice helps me sleep.”
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, dragging a hand down his face. “Didn’t think you could get even more adorable.”
Rosie’s tired giggle melted into a hum as her eyes drifted shut. Katsuki’s voice, rough but steady, filled her ears as he returned to his game. “Oi! Kiri, you absolute dumbass, get your ass outta that corner!” Katsuki barked through his headset.
Rosie’s eyes grew heavier as she nestled deeper under the blankets, Katsuki’s voice a comforting rumble in her ear.
“Bro, I am out of the corner!” Kirishima’s voice crackled through Katsuki’s headset, loud enough that Rosie could hear it clearly.
“Yeah?” Katsuki shot back, voice sharp with annoyance. “Then explain why your sorry ass keeps dying!”
“Maybe if you actually helped instead of jerking your coc— ” Kaminari’s voice chimed in, only to be cut off.
“I am helping, dunce face!” Katsuki barked.
“You’re literally just camping by the loot crates!” Mineta’s high-pitched whine pierced through the comms.
“Oh, like you’re any better?” Katsuki sneered. “You spent half the match crawling around like a freakin’ slug!”
“That’s called stealth , man!” Mineta shot back.
“Stealth?” Katsuki snorted. “You got sniped from ten feet away because your dumbass tried to hide behind a lamp post !”
Rosie giggled sleepily, the sound muffled by her pillow.
“Uh… Midoriya?” Tokoyami’s gravelly voice came through next. “Why are you still looting?”
“I’m just— I’m just getting supplies !” Izuku defended, voice tight with panic.
“You’ve been at it for ten minutes, dude!” Kaminari groaned.
“Yeah, nerd!” Katsuki chimed in. “Get your ass over here before we all die!”
“I-I’m coming! Just— oh, no, no, no — AHH !”
“Midoriya is dead,” Shoji’s calm, resigned voice muttered.
“Un-freaking-believable!” Katsuki groaned, his voice rising. “I swear to God, I’m surrounded by morons!”
Shoto snorted, “last I checked, I have died the least.”
Rosie’s lips curled into a smile as their bickering faded into a low buzz, her mind slipping away from the conversation. Katsuki’s voice, even in all his chaotic rage, felt like home. Safe and warm.
“Miss you, Pomchi…” she mumbled one last time, her words barely a whisper as sleep finally claimed her.
The next day, Rosie found herself standing in a boutique, holding a small tube of lip gloss between her fingers. The store was cute and trendy, with racks of sundresses, shelves of skincare products, and a corner dedicated to accessories.
“I don’t know…” Rosie murmured, turning the lip gloss in her hands. It was a soft red shade with a faint shimmer, not too bold but still noticeable. “Do you think this color will even suit me?”
Momo, standing beside her with an armful of neatly folded clothes, glanced over and smiled. “Of course it will. It’s subtle but still pretty. I bet Katsuki will love it.”
Rosie snorted, slipping the gloss into her shopping basket. “Yeah, sure. Like a guy like him would notice stuff like that.”
“Oh please,” Momo giggled. “He absolutely notices. It’s a wonder that you guys haven’t hooked up or started dating yet. Anyway, just buy it.”
Giving a small smile, Rosie nodded and wandered to the front of the store. She paused at a display of pastel socks—white, pink, and lavender, all decorated with frilly lace and ribbons. So cute… she thought, grabbing a few pairs.
"These are super cute," a girl in shorts and a lacy top pouted from beside her. Her red hair pulled up into a ponytail, a black mask obscuring her face. "Maybe I should get both."
Rosie peered over to see what the girl was deciding on, she too was debating on a choice between socks. "I think the white and pink ones suit you more than the lavender ones."
The girl turned to her, wide eyed before her eyes crinkled from smiling. "Oh! Thank you so much!"
The girl grabbed said pair of socks and quickly left to checkout. Rosie turned away finally, she spotted a delicate, pearl-adorned headband on a rack. It was simple yet elegant, and something about it reminded her of the way Miko wore her hair sometimes. Smiling fondly, Rosie added it to her basket before heading to the checkout counter.
The guy at the register greeted her with a smile as he began scanning her items. Rosie blinked, her gaze lingering on him for a moment longer than she intended. Something about him seemed… familiar .
His white hair was short and slightly tousled, his skin pale, almost ghostly under the store’s lighting. His green eyes, bright and sharp, flicked up to meet hers.
“Everything okay?” he asked, voice calm and pleasant.
“Yeah…” Rosie hummed, still studying his face. “Sorry, I just…” She tilted her head. “Have we met before?”
The guy’s smile widened just slightly. “Nope, don’t think so.”
“You sure?” Rosie pressed, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu prick at her skin.
“Positive,” he said, sliding her bag across the counter. “Have a good one.”
“…Yeah.” Rosie took the bag, giving him one last curious glance. “You too.”
As she turned to leave, she spotted the other girls already moving toward the next shop. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Rosie jogged after them, still unable to shake the strange feeling lingering in her chest.
As Rosie hurried to catch up with the other girls, her phone buzzed in her hand. Glancing down, she felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of the name on her screen.
Pomchi💖 sent a message.
Pomchi💖: Hey doll, heading to the gym.
A smile spread across her face as she tapped out a quick reply.
Rosie: Have fun with your endurance training!
She barely had time to pocket her phone before another message came through.
Pomchi💖: I know another way to work on my endurance.
Rosie stopped in her tracks, biting back a grin.
Rosie: Oh? How?
The three little dots appeared almost immediately.
Pomchi💖: Better if I show you, doll.
Rosie’s cheeks warmed. She lingered outside the shop the girls had just entered, biting her lip. Her eyes flicked toward the window where Momo and Mina were pointing at some trendy boots.
Rosie: I don’t need it, I’m strong as is.
Switching to her camera, Rosie extended her arm and flexed, snapping a picture of herself showing off her toned but skinny arms.
Rosie: I’ve been working on my endurance too 😎
It wasn’t much, but she knew it would make him smile. Sure enough, her phone buzzed moments later.
Pomchi💖: Damn, doll, think you might have the nerd beat.
Then another text followed, this time with an image attached. Curious, Rosie tapped to open it— and nearly dropped her phone.
The photo was of Katsuki in the gym, shirtless and drenched in sweat. His muscles were taut and well-defined, his arms flexed as he stood beside a row of weights. His abs were sculpted, his skin gleaming from his workout, and he wore a smug grin like he knew what effect this would have on her.
Rosie’s face practically ignited. Holy hell…her boyfriend is so fucking hot. Without thinking, she saved the photo. For... motivational purposes... obviously.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure of what to say. Her mind raced between a teasing comeback and just openly admitting how flustered she was.
Rosie: You’re such a showoff 😳
Pomchi💖: What can I say? Gotta impress my girl.
Her stomach flipped at the casual possessiveness in his words. Grinning, she sent another text.
Rosie: You’re lucky you’re cute.
Pomchi💖: Lucky, huh? Feels more like skill to me.
Rosie giggled under her breath, biting her lip as her fingers tapped out one more response.
Rosie: I think I need a live demonstration sometime soon…
His reply came almost instantly.
Pomchi💖: Say the word, doll. I’ll be there in twenty minutes and give you a very thorough demonstration that’s rather hands on.
Still feeling warm, Rosie tucked her phone back into her pocket and hurried into the store, her heart racing just as fast as her thoughts.
The heated pool's warmth wrapped around Rosie like a comforting embrace, but no amount of heat could melt away the cold knot of anxiety that had taken residence in her chest. She leaned against the smooth tile wall, her wineglass cradled in one hand, her phone resting precariously on the ledge. The sunset painted the sky in breathtaking hues — streaks of pink bleeding into warm reds and soft oranges. It should have been peaceful, beautiful even, but Rosie couldn’t quiet her mind enough to truly enjoy it.
“Perfect photo!” Mina’s cheerful voice broke through her thoughts. She waded over with a bright grin, phone in hand. “Here, look!”
Rosie took the phone, her gaze softening at the picture displayed on the screen. The warm glow of the sunset framed her face perfectly, giving her skin a golden tint. Her eyes were half-lidded, her wineglass poised elegantly in her hand—she almost looked serene. Almost .
“You’re so photogenic,” Mina beamed.
Rosie felt her cheeks warm. “Thank you.”
Mina settled beside her, her wineglass perched safely on the pool’s edge. “So… how are you feeling?”
The question sent a sharp twist through Rosie’s stomach. She stared down at her wine, swirling it gently in her glass as if the answer might rise to the surface.
“Ah… well, that’s a rather loaded question,” she said with a weak chuckle.
Mina nodded knowingly. “You don’t have to answer. I just wanted to check in on you.”
Rosie fiddled with the stem of her wineglass, her fingers cold despite the heated water. Words tumbled and tangled in her mind, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions she hadn’t been able to properly express. But something about Mina’s quiet patience— her warmth —made her feel like it was okay to say it out loud.
“I just…” Rosie exhaled shakily. “Ever since I learned about having a stalker, I’m constantly living in fear. It’s like… everywhere I go, I feel like they’re right there. It’s exhausting.” Her voice wavered, throat tightening. “I don’t feel safe anymore. Not unless I’m with someone—Katsuki, you, anyone. I feel like I’m constantly on the verge of a panic attack, and one little jumpscare is all it’ll take for me to lose it.”
Mina’s expression softened, her usual bright smile dimming with concern. “Your privacy was violated,” she said gently. “As was your home. Of course you’re going to feel that way.”
Rosie swallowed hard, her fingers curling tightly around the delicate stem of her wineglass. “I had to force myself to come here,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “Just like I force myself to go to class… to go to work. Because if I don’t, I know I’ll just… sit in my apartment and never leave.”
“Oh, Rosie…” Mina’s voice wobbled with empathy. She moved closer, carefully navigating the water so she wouldn’t spill her drink. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around Rosie and pulled her close.
Rosie froze for a moment, unsure if she’d fall apart completely if she let herself relax. But the warmth of Mina’s embrace— soft yet steady —broke something inside her. She tucked her face into Mina’s shoulder, the tears spilling before she could stop them.
Mina rubbed her back in soothing circles, her voice low and comforting. “Y’know,” she murmured, “we could always have a big sleepover when we get back. It’s been forever since we’ve done that… I think it’d be fun.”
Rosie sniffled against her shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Totally!” Mina’s voice brightened with excitement. “We’ll binge movies, eat junk food, and just chill together. No pressure to go anywhere or do anything— just us hanging out. I think we could all use that, especially since we’re supposed to go camping soon.”
Rosie let out a watery laugh. “You’re always planning something…”
“Someone’s gotta keep us all from turning into a chaotic mess,” Mina grinned. “But hey… it’s not just about keeping busy.” She gave Rosie’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You’re one of my best friends, and I hate seeing you like this. I know you’re strong— I’ve seen you push through so much —but you don’t have to push through everything alone.”
Rosie’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest. Mina had always been this way — all smiles and sunshine, radiating kindness so effortlessly. She seemed to know exactly when to comfort and when to cheer you on, always putting others before herself. It wasn’t just nurturing— it was selfless. And Rosie couldn’t fathom how someone could be that good without losing pieces of themselves along the way.
“...Thank you,” Rosie whispered.
Mina just hugged her tighter. “Anytime.”
Notes:
AHHH, more drama coming up??? maybe, who knows? hope you guys enjoyed this chapter<3
Chapter 69: How did she make him feel like a lovesick idiot just by existing?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki Bakugou is down bad for his girlfriend. It was laughable—even he could admit that— but hell, who could blame him?
His little girlfriend is the very definition of angelic perfection, and no one could ever compare. Not a single damn woman on this planet could hold a candle to her— not in his eyes. Rosie is everything. Always had been, always would be. Every other woman? Forget it . They could try their hardest— spend hours on their hair, paint their faces with makeup, wear the finest clothes — and they’d still come up short . Because Rosie isn’t just beautiful. She is his . His perfect, adoring, pretty girl —and nothing made Katsuki’s blood run hotter than that simple truth.
Now here he was, sprawled across his couch, scrolling through the photos Rosie had sent him throughout her trip. His phone screen lit up with image after image of her, each one practically seared into his mind. He wasn’t just looking at these pictures— he was memorizing them, committing every tiny detail to memory like he was studying for an exam. Because obviously, Katsuki is obsessed with Rosie. How could he not be?
The first picture was simple—Rosie smiling with her wineglass in hand, perched in the heated pool with the sunset painting the sky behind her. Her hair was pinned up, loose strands framing her face in soft waves. Her skin glowed warm in the light, and the way her smile curled at the edge— sweet but teasing —sent his heart straight to his throat.
Goddamn, she is gorgeous.
The next photo? Even better. Rosie posing in front of a mirror, showing off that new white bikini with pink hearts on it. Her hand rested on her hip, one leg bent just enough to emphasize the curve of her thigh. Her belly button piercing, a pink diamond butterfly to match the butterfly tattoo on her hip. Katsuki practically growled under his breath, eyes burning as he stared at the picture. His girl. His perfect little knockout— sweet as candy but hot enough to drive him insane.
The third photo was pure torture. Rosie, sitting on a poolside lounge chair with her mimosa in one hand and a raunchy romance novel in the other. Her eyes were downcast, her lips slightly parted as if she were caught up in whatever scandalous scene she was reading. The little silver butterfly chain around her ankle gleamed in the sun, and Katsuki’s mouth went dry. He knew that book was full of sex scenes— she'd teased him about it before. Now all he could think about was her pretty face getting all flustered reading it.
The fourth photo had him biting his lip. Rosie again—this time in his oversized hoodie, legs tucked beneath her as she sat cross-legged with the girls, laughing over glasses of wine. She wasn’t dressed to impress, no makeup, her hair in a loose bun… and yet Katsuki swore she’d never looked more beautiful.
Then there was the photo of her fresh from the spa, wrapped in a fluffy robe with her hair damp and her face glowing. Her nails were painted a soft pink— and Katsuki couldn’t stop thinking about those pretty fingers dragging down his chest.
Shit . He ran a hand down his face, dragging in a sharp breath. How did she do this to him? How did she make him feel like a lovesick idiot just by existing? Every photo had his chest tight, his blood pumping hotter, his mind spinning with nothing but her .
Rosie is intoxicating. Every smile, every look, every laugh— Katsuki wanted it all. Needed it all.
Because Rosie isn’t just perfect.
She is his .
If anyone were to ever get a glimpse of Katsuki’s phone, they’d know immediately. Why? Because his phone wasn’t just his anymore— it was hers, too.
His photo gallery? All her. Pictures of Rosie smiling, laughing, posing for selfies, snuggled up under his arm, asleep with Maya curled at her feet—every moment, every expression, every memory he could capture. His call log? Her name was always there. His texts? Rosie’s contact was pinned right at the top, and their thread was a never-ending stream of messages—teasing remarks, flirty comments, pictures she sent him of things she knew he’d like, or just random thoughts she had throughout the day.
His home screen? Her smiling face. His lock screen? A photo of her asleep on his chest, her hand resting over his heart. His notes app? Packed with reminders of her likes, dislikes, favorite snacks, meals she craved, things she wanted to try, dates he wanted to plan— everything he needed to know to keep his girl happy.
If his younger self could see this, he’d laugh himself sick—and then start screaming, berating him for letting a girl take up so much of his time, his space, and his thoughts. But younger him hadn’t met Rosie.
And that made all the difference.
Katsuki tossed his phone onto the couch and stood, stretching his arms overhead as he glanced around his apartment. It was impossible to miss the signs of her presence— like she had quietly woven herself into every corner of his life.
A pink throw blanket was folded neatly over the back of his couch, the soft fabric still faintly smelling like her strawberry-scented lotion. On the coffee table, her gel glitter pens were scattered beside her notebook— half-filled with doodles and notes she’d scribbled while watching TV. Her pink gaming controller rested beside his on the charging dock.
In the kitchen, a delicate pink wineglass sat in the cabinet. In his fridge, there was a plastic carton of fresh berries— her favorite. In the dishwasher, a white mug with her faint lip gloss stain still clinging to the rim.
And in his bedroom? A pink charger tucked beside his bed.
Even the hallway had their shared paintings—her delicate brushstrokes next to his bolder, heavier lines. In his laundry room, one of her sweaters was mixed in with his clothes.
His apartment wasn’t his anymore—it was theirs . And Katsuki wouldn’t have it any other way.
A sudden high-pitched yip snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned to see Maya dancing on her hind legs, her fluffy paws flapping in the air. Her dark button eyes stared up at him expectantly, her whole body wiggling with excitement.
“Alright, alright,” he muttered, grabbing her leash off the hook by the door. “Let’s go for a drive, cotton swab.”
Maya eagerly hopped into the passenger seat— Rosie’s spot —curling up into a tiny ball and dozing off before they even left the parking lot. Katsuki drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting against Maya’s soft fur, absentmindedly scratching behind her ears.
At the dog park, Maya bolted around like a fluffy little bullet, yipping excitedly as she chased after bigger dogs without an ounce of fear. Katsuki watched from a bench, grumbling under his breath every time Maya tried to boss the larger dogs around like she was queen of the damn park.
Afterward, Katsuki swung by the grocery store. With Rosie coming back tomorrow, he figured he’d stock up on her favorites— snacks, drinks, and those dumb little candy bars she couldn’t resist . He was just tossing a pack of spicy ramen into his basket when a familiar voice called out behind him.
“Didn’t expect to see you here, Bakugou.”
Katsuki glanced back to see Aizawa, dressed in his usual black clothes with a grocery basket hanging from one arm. His tired eyes shifted downward— landing directly on Maya, who was perched in the cart's child seat like some kind of spoiled princess.
“She yours now?” Aizawa asked dryly.
Katsuki snorted. “Nah, Kirishima’s cat kept picking fights with her. He asked if I could watch her while Rosie’s out.”
Aizawa’s brow lifted slightly, a silent Really? lingering in his stare. His sharp gaze lingered on Katsuki’s face for a beat too long, like he could read the truth written across his face.
“You’re sure that’s all?” Aizawa finally muttered.
Katsuki’s hand tightened slightly on the cart’s handle. He could dodge the question— lie or brush it off —but instead, he sighed, lowering his voice. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Aizawa shrugged, “as long as Maya is alright.”
Katsuki then realized that Aizawa wasn’t suspicious of him but more worried about Maya in general. So the old man had a soft spot for the poodle as well.
He nodded,“...Any leads?”
Aizawa’s expression darkened, his fingers running through his hair. “Nothing but dead ends.”
Katsuki clenched his jaw. “Hawks thinks we should draw him out somehow,” he muttered, voice tight.
“Risky.” Aizawa shifted the basket to his other arm. “If Rosie’s the bait, that’s putting her in danger.”
“I know,” Katsuki said through gritted teeth. “That’s why we’re figuring out how to do it without putting her in the middle of it.”
Aizawa’s gaze softened— just a fraction —as he studied Katsuki’s face. “You’re doing good, Bakugou,” he said quietly. “You’re keeping her safe. Don’t lose sight of that.”
Katsuki swallowed hard and nodded. He hadn’t expected that, especially after how pissed he had been when he saw him last at the hospital.
Despite what had been said. Katsuki knew that Aizawa only cared about his daughter’s safety. However, Katsuki would much sooner die than let anything happen to her. Because no matter what it took— no matter how far he had to go —he’d keep Rosie safe. Always .
Katsuki lounged on his couch, a half-empty pizza box perched on the coffee table in front of him. He lazily chewed his last slice, eyes half-lidded as Maya trotted back and forth at his feet, eagerly performing little tricks in exchange for bites of crust.
“Sit,” he muttered, tossing a small piece of pepperoni her way.
Maya immediately plopped her fluffy little butt down, ears perked up and tail wagging so fast it was practically a blur.
“Spin,” Katsuki said with a smirk, tossing another tiny scrap. Maya whirled in a rapid circle, stumbling slightly in her excitement before bouncing back to face him.
“Good job, cotton swab.” He reached down to ruffle her fur, grunting softly when she licked his fingers in triumph.
He wondered, not for the first time, if Maya had picked up her dramatic whining and whimpering from Rosie. The resemblance was uncanny. Rosie had her own way of begging— batting her lashes at him with those big, pleading eyes, her bottom lip pushed into the cutest pout as she tugged on his sleeve.
And damn it, she knew it worked.
Most of the time, Katsuki told her no— at least at first . Not because he really meant it, but because he liked when she begged. He liked watching her squirm, whine, and pout before he finally gave in— not because she wore him down, but because he was obsessed with seeing her melt when he finally gave her what she wanted.
Chuckling to himself, he flicked Maya another piece of meat, which she leapt up to catch mid-air like a little white blur.
“Show off,” Katsuki muttered, giving her a lazy head pat before grabbing his controller and headset. He slid the headset on, clicked his console back to life, and joined the voice chat.
Immediately, his ears were assaulted by chaotic shouting.
“—I said I was COVERING YOU, DEKU!” Kaminari’s voice boomed over the mic.
“AND I SAID I NEEDED BACKUP, YOU NEANDERTHAL!” Midoriya shot back.
“I HAD THREE GUYS PINNING ME, HOW THE HELL WAS I SUPPOSED TO HELP?!” Kaminari’s voice whined.
Mineta interrupted, “maybe if you didn’t SUCK—”
“Mineta, SHUT THE HELL U—”
“Bro, you literally tried to solo-push and got wiped in two seconds—”
Katsuki groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just run another game, dumbasses,” he barked into the mic.
“Oh, look who finally showed up,” Kirishima teased. “Finally decided to get on?”
“Shut it,” Katsuki grunted. He scrolled through his games and clicked on Escape from Tarkov, immediately joining the team with Kirishima, Icy Hot, and Tokoyami.
“Ohhh, you’re on our team now?” Kirishima’s voice lit up. “Alright! Squad's stacked!”
“Better hope that’s enough,” Midoriya chimed in. “We’re about to roll you guys.”
“Yeah?” Katsuki snorted. “I’ll make you cry in five minutes, nerd.”
The countdown hit zero, and the match started.
The dark, gritty map loaded in—abandoned warehouses, twisted metal fences, and the faint glow of streetlights flickering above. Katsuki’s boots crunched against gravel as he moved in sync with Kirishima and Icy Hot, Tokoyami lagging a few steps behind to cover their rear.
“Alright,” Katsuki growled. “Push right—we’ll hit ‘em before they get set up.”
“I’ll check the warehouse,” Tokoyami muttered.
They moved fast, ducking through the shadows, sweeping corners with precision. Katsuki spotted movement just as Kaminari’s bright yellow jacket flashed across the street.
“Gotcha,” Katsuki hissed, raising his rifle.
BANG! A shot rang out, and Kaminari’s character crumpled to the ground.
“DAMN IT!” Kaminari howled.
“Shouldn’t dress like a damn neon sign,” Katsuki sneered.
“YOU LUCKY BASTARD!” Kaminari yelled.
“Hey, watch it!” Midoriya’s voice warned through the mic. “They’re pushing left!”
“Not on my watch!” Kirishima roared. He barrelled forward, guns blazing, screaming at the top of his lungs as he charged Midoriya and Shoji.
“Bro, what are you DOING?!” Shoji’s panicked voice cried.
“I GOT THIS!” Kirishima bellowed.
“Idiot,” Katsuki muttered— but damn if Kirishima didn’t actually pull it off. Midoriya and Shoji dropped in seconds, leaving only Mineta alive.
“Mineta’s ratting in the corner somewhere,” Katsuki grumbled. “Little creep’s probably camping with a shotgun.”
“I AM NOT!” Mineta’s voice screeched—and immediately after, Katsuki heard the unmistakable boom of a shotgun blast just ahead.
“Found him,” Katsuki smirked. He tossed a grenade into the corner, and Mineta’s panicked scream echoed through the chat before his character’s death screen lit up.
“SUCK IT, GRAPEBALL!” Katsuki shouted.
“This is BULLSHIT!” Mineta whined.
“Damn right it is,” Katsuki smirked, dropping his controller on the table. “That’s why I’m the best.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Kirishima laughed. “We get it, you’re a god.”
Katsuki grinned, barely noticing Maya curling up against his side on the couch. For now, with Rosie’s return just around the corner, winning a game and trash-talking with his friends was the perfect distraction.
Katsuki’s eyes flicked to his phone as it lit up, Rosie’s picture filling the screen. That sweet smile— her smile —stared back at him, and above it, Babydoll glowed in soft letters. The familiar accept and reject icons lingered at the bottom, but there was never a chance he’d ignore her.
Grinning, he barely spared his controller a glance as he deafened his mic and grabbed his phone. He answered the call, setting it on his coffee table and leaning forward.
“Hey, Doll.”
Rosie’s face appeared, wrapped in the warm glow of her hotel room. She wore her silky pink pajamas— the ones that always drove him insane —her hair tied up in a messy bun, a few wisps of curls framing her freshly washed face. She held a glass of wine in one hand, her phone steady in the other.
“Katsuki!” she chirped, beaming.
Another favorite thing about her? His name was always the first thing that left her lips when she saw him.
“Packing?” he asked, spotting the half-filled suitcase on her bed as she moved through the room.
“Yeah,” Rosie sighed. “We’re checking out at nine.”
“Want me to come get you?” He tried to sound casual, but his stomach twisted.
She shook her head, smiling. “No worries. Mina and I are driving back together.”
Katsuki bit back his disappointment, shifting his attention to her instead— her soft smile, the way she sank into her bed after refilling her wineglass. He smirked when she let out a soft, satisfied hum.
“Going to bed early?” he asked, peeking at the time. Almost ten now.
Rosie nodded. “Yeah. We’re grabbing breakfast before heading back, so I wanna get some rest.”
“Busy day?”
“Oh!” Rosie brightened, her eyes wide with excitement. “Yeah, we went to these cute little shops nearby. Momo convinced me to try this new lip gloss— I think you’ll like it ,” she teased, flashing a grin. “And I found these adorable frilly socks and a headband too!”
He chuckled. “Bet you looked cute as hell.”
She giggled softly, sipping her wine. “We grabbed lunch after—this place had these amazing seafood bowls. Then we spent the rest of the day soaking in the heated pools. It was heaven .”
“Sounds like you had a good time,” he murmured, watching her relax deeper into her bed. The glow on her face— warm and content —was something he hadn’t seen in weeks. Since they found that damn camera in her apartment, she’d been on edge, always checking over her shoulder. But right now? She looked... lighter. At ease.
He wasn’t about to ruin that. Not by telling her how he’d spent part of his afternoon talking to her dad about drawing out her stalker. She didn’t need to know that tonight— not when she was starting to feel like herself again.
Instead, he leaned back with a lazy grin. “My day was boring. Just ran some errands, took Maya to the dog park, ordered a pizza... and now I’m here with you, watching you drain that wine like it’s your last meal.”
Rosie snorted into her glass, covering her mouth as she giggled. “It’s been a long day,” she defended, her cheeks already flushed from the alcohol.
“You sure it’s not just you being a lightweight?” he teased.
“I am not a lightweight!” she huffed, her pout only making him smirk more.
“Yeah?” Katsuki’s voice dropped lower, his grin turning sharp. “Seems like you’re already tipsy, Babydoll . What happened to that ‘tough girl’ act, huh?”
Rosie’s face turned pinker, the wine clearly working its magic. “Shut up,” she muttered, sinking lower beneath her blankets.
“Mm... nah.” He stretched out on his couch, voice dipping to that low, gravelly tone she always squirmed at. “You’re cute when you’re all flustered. That blush on your cheeks... looks real good on you, Doll. ”
Her fingers fidgeted with her wineglass, and she ducked her head with a shy smile. “I bet you say that to all the girls,” she mumbled.
“Yeah?” He snorted. “Like I’d waste my time when I’ve already got you .”
Her smile widened, and she peeked up at him through her lashes. “You’re so cheesy.”
“Yeah?” Katsuki smirked. “You adore it.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.” He stretched again, feeling her eyes linger on his arms. He grinned. Yeah... she’s lookin’.
“Can I...” Rosie’s voice softened, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her blanket. “Can I fall asleep on the phone with you again?”
Katsuki’s chest tightened, but his smile stayed lazy. “Yeah... ‘course you can.”
Her face brightened, and she propped her phone on the nightstand just like she had the night before. She snuggled down into her blankets, curling up and hugging her pillow to her chest.
“Comfy?” he asked.
His Babydoll—safe, warm, and very happy.
Katsuki let his head fall back against the couch, exhaling quietly before reaching for his controller. He undeafened himself, his voice gravelly but confident. “Alright,” he barked, “ready for a real game?”
“Hell yeah!” Kaminari shouted.
“You’re just saying that ‘cause you think you’ll finally win,” Kirishima shot back.
“Like hell he will,” Katsuki sneered. “I’m carrying your sorry asses.”
“ Please, you’re about to get folded,” Kaminari taunted.
With a smirk, Katsuki jumped back into Tarkov , dropping into the chaos like a grenade. The air filled with shouting— explosions, footsteps, gunfire —and their voices overlapping in a blur of curses and taunts.
“Who the hell just shot me?”
“ Bro, that was me! ”
“ Why are you like this?! ”
“Get good, loser!” Katsuki barked, grinning as he swept through a corridor and gunned down two of Kaminari’s teammates.
“Oh, you son of a—”
“You walked right into it!” Katsuki laughed.
“Behind you!” Kirishima yelled.
“ Shit—! ” Katsuki spun, barely dodging a shotgun blast as he retaliated, taking down his attacker.
“Let’s go!”
The adrenaline had him locked in, but every so often, Katsuki flicked his gaze to his phone screen. Rosie was still fast asleep, curled up in her blankets with a faint smile on her face. Her hair had loosened from its bun, a few strands falling across her cheek.
Damn… she's cute.
“Bakugo! Where the hell are you?”
“Oi, chill out,” Katsuki shot back, pulling his focus back to the game.
But no matter how loud the game got — no matter how much shouting, taunting, and cursing filled his headset — every time he glanced back at Rosie, she was still there, smiling softly in her sleep. And every time, Katsuki’s chest tightened with warmth.
The next afternoon, Katsuki stood outside Rosie’s apartment, shifting the bouquet of flowers in his hand. It wasn’t some delicate arrangement—just roses, all pinks, whites, and reds. Before he could knock, the door flew open, and Rosie practically launched herself at him. “Katsuki!”
He staggered back a step, but his arm was already around her waist, steadying her. Rosie giggled against his neck, peppering kisses along his jaw and up to his cheek.
“Missed me that much, huh?” Katsuki teased, his voice low as he stepped inside her apartment, still carrying her.
“ Yes! ” Rosie chirped, planting another kiss at the corner of his mouth.
Katsuki’s grin widened as he kicked the door shut behind him. “Damn, Babydoll, two days and you’re acting like I’ve been gone for weeks.”
“You have been gone for weeks!” Rosie shot back, pulling away just enough to pout at him, her arms still looped tightly around his neck.
“I was not. ”
“You were!” She huffed dramatically, her lower lip pushing out.
Katsuki smirked and shifted her in his arms, cradling her against his chest with one arm like she weighed nothing. “I think you’re just obsessed with me,” he drawled.
“Maybe I am,” Rosie muttered, her voice soft as she rested her head on his shoulder. Her breath warmed his neck, and Katsuki couldn’t stop the smug grin that tugged at his lips. “Is that so wrong, Pomchi?” she added, her fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket like she was afraid he might disappear if she let go. “I missed you.”
Katsuki’s heart jumped— a sharp, unexpected pang that knocked the air from his lungs. He knew she’d missed him, but hearing it? Hearing her say it like that? Yeah, that hit different.
He preened at the attention, basking in how she clung to him, how she practically melted into his hold. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it— he loved how needy she is. He’d been honest with her that day in the grocery store— he adored how clingy and sweet she was, how easily she spoiled him with her affection.
It fed something in him, something dark and greedy. A twisted little monster that thrived on her constant need to be close, to touch him, to hold onto him like he is something precious. That monster inside him? Yeah, it was spoiled rotten—and he had no intention of taming it.
“I made plans for us,” Katsuki said, his voice low and gruff as he reluctantly set her back down on her feet. “We’re getting lunch—then I’m kidnapping you back to my place.”
Rosie beamed, her whole face lighting up like he'd just promised her the moon. She turned to grab her purse, but before she could slip away, Katsuki’s hand shot out—fingers curling around her neck.
“Uh-uh,” he growled, yanking her back against him. His mouth crashed against hers— hot, hard, hungry. His hand tightened slightly, fingers pressing into the soft skin of her neck as he kissed her like he was trying to devour her whole.
By the time he pulled away, Rosie is flushed and breathless, her dazed expression making his blood burn. Her lips were swollen and slick with her favorite strawberry gloss— and she licked them absently, wrinkling her nose just slightly as her head spun.
“Get your purse,” Katsuki ordered, his voice thick.
Rosie nodded numbly, turning toward the kitchen like she forgot where she'd put it.
Fuck . He scrubbed a hand down his face, taking a deep breath. Keeping his hands off her during lunch? Yeah… that was gonna be hell.
Katsuki’s grip on the steering wheel was damn near white-knuckled as he stole another glance at Rosie.
She sat in his passenger seat, perched so damn pretty in her short black pleated skirt, the hem teasing the tops of her smooth thighs. Her pink silk blouse clung to her in just the right way, shifting with each movement as she twisted to check her reflection in the mirror.
And of course—she was applying that damn strawberry lip gloss.
Katsuki swallowed hard, gripping the wheel even tighter.
That lip gloss… It made her lips look sparkly and sweet, left them smelling and tasting like strawberries— like something he wanted to taste over and over again until she was breathless and whimpering his name.
He forced his eyes back on the road, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek. Focus .
Instead of losing his mind, Katsuki pulled into the parking lot of the retro diner— the one Rosie had been begging to try for weeks now. He killed the engine, jumped out, and circled the car to open her door.
“C’mon, Babydoll,” he murmured, holding out his hand.
Rosie slipped her fingers into his— her whole hand curling around just two of his fingers —and the soft, shy smile she gave him was enough to make his chest ache.
Then she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek, her lips still sticky with that damn gloss.
“Missed a spot,” she giggled, her fingers swiping gently at the corner of his mouth before she grabbed his hand again.
Katsuki swore under his breath, shoving his free hand into his pocket to stop himself from grabbing her and pulling her back into him.
Once inside the diner, Katsuki chose a booth in the corner—away from the main crowd. He kept his back to the wall, keeping Rosie tucked safely on the inside.
She practically bounced in her seat, her eyes wide as she took in the diner’s vintage aesthetic— red leather booths, checkerboard tiles, and neon signs glowing above the counter.
When the waitress skated over, Katsuki didn’t bother letting her speak.
“Burger with everything, fries, and a large soda,” he said gruffly. “And for her—cheeseburger with no veg, bacon, avocado, and mayo only. Fries too. Large strawberry milkshake.”
Rosie’s face lit up as she turned to him. “You remembered!”
“‘Course I did,” he muttered. Like he could ever forget.
By the time their food arrived, Katsuki had barely touched his burger—too focused on the sight in front of him.
Rosie dipped one of her fries into her strawberry milkshake, humming with delight as she popped it into her mouth. She did it again—and again—each time smiling like it was the greatest thing in the world.
“You’re so weird sometimes,” Katsuki muttered, watching her dunk another fry into the shake.
“You’re just jealous,” Rosie shot back, flashing him a smug grin before grabbing her burger.
And damn— she devoured it. No dainty bites, no picking it apart— just full-on, messy, unapologetic enjoyment. Mayo smeared at the corner of her mouth, and she didn’t even seem to notice.
“Oi,” Katsuki muttered, grabbing a napkin and reaching across the table to swipe it away.
Rosie blinked up at him, wide-eyed and pink-cheeked. “What?” she asked, her voice muffled around her latest bite.
Katsuki just shook his head, lips twitching. This girl...
“Nothing,” he muttered. “Just eat your damn food.”
After finishing their meal and paying the bill, Katsuki glanced toward the window and scowled. The rain had started— not a light drizzle, but a full-on downpour. Sheets of water pelted the glass, distorted the streetlights, and turned the world outside into a blur of gray and black. A streak of white split the sky, followed by a deafening crack of thunder that rattled the diner’s windows.
Rosie yelped beside him, her hand jolting to clutch his arm. Her fingers dug in tightly— small and trembling.
Katsuki swore under his breath. Shit . Rosie hated thunder. She hated heights and haunted houses, yeah— but thunder? That was different . It was sudden, unpredictable, and completely out of her control. He knew it scared her in a way that no fake jump scare ever could.
Without a word, Katsuki yanked off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She immediately burrowed into it, pulling it tightly around herself like armor, her face half-hidden in the collar. The faint scent of caramel and smoke clung to the fabric, and she pressed her nose into it, breathing him in. She scooted closer, tucking herself against his side, her fingers still shaking against his arm.
“Wait here,” Katsuki murmured, dropping a kiss to her forehead. “Gonna go get the car.”
Rosie blinked up at him, her eyes wide and glassy. She gave a small, shaky nod, still gripping his arm like she didn’t want him to leave.
“You’ll be okay,” he promised, raising the jacket’s hood over her head. “I won’t be long.”
The second he stepped outside, cold rain slapped against his skin, soaking his hair and hoodie almost instantly. He swore under his breath as he sprinted to the car, jumped in, and cranked the heat as high as it would go. The storm was getting worse— thunder rumbling low and angry, like a growl in the earth’s belly.
By the time he pulled up to the diner’s entrance, Rosie was already darting outside. She bolted through the rain, his oversized jacket flapping behind her as she scrambled into the car.
“Shit, Rosie,” Katsuki grunted, reaching over to pull her in closer. She clung to him immediately, her face pressed tight against his arm as she trembled.
“Let’s get you home,” he muttered, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
He drove as fast as the rain allowed, one hand gripping the wheel while the other stayed locked around her. Each time thunder cracked, she flinched, her fingers digging into his hoodie as she whimpered softly. The sound made his chest tighten— a sharp, visceral ache.
He hated hearing her like that— but at the same time…
He loved that she turned to him like this. That when she was scared, weak, and trembling, she didn’t run from him— she ran to him.
She needed him. And damn it, Katsuki loved that.
He loved how small she felt tucked against him, how soft and fragile she seemed in those moments—like something precious and delicate that only he is allowed to protect. It made something primal stir inside him— something that thrived on the way she depended on him, the way she clung to him.
Yeah... yeah, she’s mine.
He clenched his jaw, pushing the thought away as the storm rumbled overhead. Rosie made another soft whimper, pressing closer. Katsuki turned the radio up, hoping it might drown out the noise, but it didn’t stop her trembling.
“Almost there,” he muttered. Just hold on, pretty girl.
By the time they stumbled into his apartment, Rosie was still soaked and shivering.
“Go change,” Katsuki ordered, but she didn’t move—just stood there, still clutching his arm. He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Come on, pretty girl.”
Instead of pushing her, he guided her to his room, where Maya was curled up on the bed. The little fluffball perked up instantly, tail wagging as she pounced at Rosie’s legs.
Rosie scooped her up, pressing her face into Maya’s fur—but she still flinched when another crack of thunder shook the building. She almost dropped the dog.
“Alright,” Katsuki muttered, grabbing a dry change of clothes—soft sweatpants and one of his T-shirts— the same things she always wore when she stayed over. “C’mere.”
She didn’t even hesitate—just let him pull the jacket from her shoulders and guide her through changing. His fingers worked quickly—rolling her damp blouse up and over her head, tugging her wet skirt down her hips— all while his gaze stayed focused on her face. She trusted him like this — stood there trembling and vulnerable, but never once pulling away.
Once she was warm and dry in his clothes, Katsuki changed out of his soaked hoodie and into sweats. Another crack of thunder sounded, and Rosie jumped again, clutching Maya like a lifeline.
“Oi,” Katsuki muttered, pulling his headphones off his desk. “C’mere.”
She let him guide her to bed, still clutching Maya to her chest. Katsuki slid the headphones over her ears, drowning out the storm with the steady pulse of bass. Then he grabbed his phone, opening that playlist— the one he’d made just for her. The one that always made her smile.
“Katsuki…?” Her voice was soft— muffled under the headphones.
“Shh.” He tugged her against his chest, arm curling around her waist. “Go to sleep.”
Rosie sighed, relaxing against him as the playlist played softly in her ears. Her breathing slowed, her fingers went slack, and soon she was asleep— safe and warm in his arms. Right where she belonged.
Katsuki buried his face in her hair, inhaling the faint scent of her shampoo. His arm tightened around her waist.
Mine.
Notes:
This chapter is so tooth achingly sweet…which just means I have to torture Rosie or Katsuki or both in the next chapter to keep things balanced lol
I might also post the Spotify playlist that Katsuki made himself that makes him think of Rosie🤭🥴
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3JKOT3KXQtqq9dmOJfsGDl?si=2cH-8faTReytHQES8Wrylw&pi=fH1yOQvoQsSnm
Chapter 70: It was embarrassing how down bad he was and he hadn’t even had sex with her yet.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The rain hadn’t let up all day. The thunder rolled on, low and persistent, shaking the windows of his apartment every so often. Rosie had been curled up in his bed for most of the afternoon, tucked under his arm while she napped—still shaken from the storm that had followed them home. Even after she’d woken up, she barely let go of him, clinging to his side like a stubborn burr.
Katsuki didn’t mind. He never did.
He liked when she got clingy—when she came to him for comfort and security. When she needed him. He fed on it, craved it in a way that he barely understood but couldn’t deny. He was hers, and she knew it— knew that whatever whim she came up with, no matter how ridiculous, he’d go along with it just because it made her happy.
So when she’d mentioned her face breaking out from stress— and how a mask might help —he didn’t even hesitate to agree when she asked him to do one with her. Now here he was: sitting on the floor in front of the couch, a stupid green mask smeared all over his face, cool and tight against his skin. Two damp cucumber slices balanced on his eyes beneath his headset.
Katsuki grunted in response, staring down at Rosie instead of the screen. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor between his legs, tucked in a blanket with his headphones over her ears. Her face was fresh and dewy now that her mask was washed off, and she looked content as she picked through the snack platter he’d made her— apples with peanut butter, pretzels with ranch, fruit snacks, and chocolate-covered strawberries.
Girl Dinner. That’s what she’d called it when she asked for it.
“The hell’s a ‘girl dinner’ supposed to be?” Katsuki had grumbled when she’d asked.
Rosie had only giggled and kissed his cheek. “It’s just snacks! It’s my comfort food.”
And of course, she’d gotten her way. She always did.
He’d tried— really tried —to talk her into something with a little more substance. Even started making her some actual food, but she’d stubbornly insisted that lunch had been her big meal for the day. Whatever the hell that meant.
Now here she was, happily nibbling away at her weird snack mix, while Katsuki ran through Tarkov with his friends. He didn’t care when he died— didn’t even curse about it —because he was too busy watching her swipe a chocolate-covered strawberry through melted chocolate that had pooled on the plate.
“Oi,” he muttered, reaching down and swiping his thumb across the corner of her mouth where chocolate had smeared. He grinned when she squeaked as he licked it clean off his thumb, then leaned down and kissed her. “You’re ridiculous,” he murmured against her lips.
Rosie only giggled and kissed him back. “It’s time to wash it off now!” she announced, pushing off the floor and shrugging off her blanket.
He let her tug him toward the bathroom, not even putting up a fight. He liked when she dragged him along like this—so excited about something so stupid. He’d never tell her, but it was one of his favorite things— the way she trusted him with her silly little routines and whims, knowing he’d go along with whatever made her smile.
In the bathroom, she flicked the light on and leaned over the sink to rinse her face. Katsuki stood behind her, watching as she cupped handfuls of warm water in her palms and carefully scrubbed away the remnants of her mask. She smiled at her reflection afterward, satisfied.
“Your turn!” she said brightly, turning to face him.
“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki muttered.
She stood there, grinning as he washed off his own mask—swiping away the green goop with rough hands, scowling at himself in the mirror. Rosie giggled behind him, clearly entertained, and just like that, his scowl softened.
Once he finished, she grabbed his arm again, pulling him back toward the living room. The thunder still rumbled outside, low and constant, but Rosie didn’t seem to care as long as she was glued to his side.
When he sat back down to continue his game, Rosie followed—settling at his feet, still wrapped in her blanket. She tugged the fabric over her head like a hood, then hugged his leg and pressed her cheek against his thigh, her face half-hidden. The headphones still played softly over her ears—a playlist he had created of songs that made him think of her. He still added new songs to it, it was a mixture of genres as it continued to drown out the thunder for her.
Katsuki shifted in his seat, resting his arm on the back of the couch as he glanced down at her. She didn’t say anything— didn’t ask him to play, didn’t beg for attention — she just clung to him, warm and soft and safe against his leg.
His hand dropped to her head, fingers threading lazily through her hair as he played. Every so often, he’d glance down and see her watching the screen, quietly chewing on the edge of her blanket or nibbling another apple slice.
Yeah… he’d indulge her in whatever the hell she wanted. Because no matter what it was— some silly skincare routine, weird snack requests, or dragging him off to random stores just to window shop — it was her.
And if she wanted to cling to him like this all night long? Yeah… Katsuki wouldn’t complain.
He blanched, god he is so fucking whipped for his girlfriend. He wondered the last two years of Kirishima and Mina dating, how his badass best friend became so down bad for a girl. Then he watched as all his other friends too fell for girls and became lap dogs. Fucking idiots , that’s what he had thought. Yet here he fucking is.
It was embarrassing how down bad he was and he hadn’t even had sex with her yet.
Later that night, Katsuki watched as she curled up into his side, Rosie slept, wrapped up in her blanket as he watched a movie. His arm holding her close to him. He hummed, watching her mumble his name ever so softly as she slept.
The rain hadn’t stopped since yesterday. It wasn’t a heavy storm anymore—no more lightning or ear-splitting thunder—just a steady, quiet drizzle that clung to everything. The streets were slick, puddles pooling along the sidewalks, and the air carried that cold, damp chill that seeped into your bones.
Katsuki normally wouldn’t have bothered going out in weather like this. But Rosie had insisted—said Maya needed the exercise, and the park would be empty anyway.
“Less people to bother you,” she’d said with a teasing smile. “Win-win, right?”
That’s how he found himself standing under a tree at the dog park, hands stuffed in his pockets as Maya raced across the grass, her little tail wagging like crazy. Rosie was with her, laughing as she tossed Maya’s ball across the field and then clapped excitedly when the mutt went tearing after it.
Rosie looked ridiculous— and by ridiculous, he meant ridiculously adorable. Her pink raincoat was oversized and shiny, her matching boots splashing through the puddles as she ran alongside Maya. Stray strands of hair clung to her face, her cheeks pink from the chill, but she didn’t seem to care. She was smiling, bright and wide, like the gray sky didn’t exist at all.
“Come play!” Rosie called out suddenly, turning back to him with an eager grin.
Katsuki just shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.”
Her smile faltered just a little, her hands going to her hips. “What? Why not?”
“‘Cause I hate the rain.”
Rosie’s nose scrunched up like she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. “Nobody hates the rain.”
“I do.”
She let out an exaggerated sigh, throwing her hands up dramatically before spinning back around and scooping Maya into her arms. “We don’t need him, do we, Maya?” she cooed, nuzzling her face into the dog’s fur before setting her back down. Maya barked and bolted away again, and Rosie followed close behind, skipping through puddles without a care in the world.
Katsuki stayed where he was, rooted to the spot— but his eyes never left her.
He didn’t know how long he stood there, just watching. Watching as Rosie spun in circles with her arms stretched out like she could hug the whole sky. Watching as she laughed, her head tilted back and mouth wide open as rain pattered against her face. Watching as she danced through puddles, her boots kicking up sprays of water like a little kid.
The rain clung to her hair now, darkening it as it stuck to her face in damp curls. Her raincoat—her ridiculous, bright pink raincoat—glistened under the gray sky. She looked…
Beautiful.
It hit him like a punch to the chest— sharp and sudden and breath-stealing. His heart pounded in his ears, a tight ache building behind his ribs. It was too much— too big. Like something massive had uncoiled inside him, something so powerful it shook him to his core.
Oh shit…
Was this love?
That’s what this was. That’s what this feeling was— this tight, breathless ache he got every time he looked at her like this. Every time she smiled at him like he was the best thing in the world. Every time she dragged him along to do whatever silly thing had caught her attention that day. Every time she clung to him when she was scared, or tired, or just wanted to be close.
He loves her. He loves her.
It was terrifying.
Katsuki had always been sure of himself— steady, grounded—but this? This feeling wasn’t something he could fight or control. It had crept in slowly, growing with every laugh, every kiss, every stupid, adorable thing she did until suddenly it is everywhere.
And it was intense— too much —a fire burning so hot and so deep inside him that he didn’t know what to do with it.
Rosie turned again, her gaze finding his through the rain. She grinned, her cheeks pink and her hair clinging wetly to her face.
“ Katsuki !” she called, her voice light and sweet. She waved at him, her fingers wiggling through the rain. “Come on!”
He didn’t move. Didn’t say a word. He just stared at her, chest tight and heart pounding, like if he looked away she might disappear.
God, he thought. I’m so fucking screwed.
Kirishima sat across from Katsuki, fingers curled loosely around his beer bottle. His eyes narrowed, suspicious but curious. “Alright, man… what’s up?”
Katsuki stared at his own bottle, frowning so hard he was sure it was gonna crack under the pressure. He didn’t know how to say it— didn’t even know how to think it without feeling like he was spiraling. “I think I fucked up,” Katsuki muttered, voice low.
Kirishima’s brows shot up. “Don’t tell me you blew up on her again,” he said with a frown. “You really gotta—”
“No,” Katsuki cut him off sharply. “I didn’t yell at her.” He took a long pull from his beer, swallowing hard before adding, “I did something worse.”
Kirishima’s face twisted in confusion. “What could be worse than blowing up on her?” His eyes suddenly widened. “Wait… wait, you didn’t cheat on her, did you? Because that doesn’t seem like you but if you’re saying you—”
“Fuck, no!” Katsuki barked, eyes flashing. “I’d never —” He broke off, running a hand down his face. “I think… I think I love her.”
The words felt wrong in his mouth— like saying them aloud would somehow make it worse, make it real.
Kirishima blinked, then slowly sat back in his chair. “...Shit.”
“Yeah,” Katsuki muttered, “shit.”
He drained the rest of his beer and reached for another, twisting the cap off in one sharp motion. The hiss of carbonation barely covered the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
“So… have you told her yet?” Kirishima asked carefully.
“Hell no.”
“Why not?”
Katsuki scoffed bitterly. “How the hell am I supposed to tell her that I love her when I just figured it out myself?”
Kirishima’s lips twitched, just barely holding back a smile. “So… what did it for you?”
“What?”
“What happened to make you realize?”
Katsuki frowned, trying to pinpoint the moment. His mind automatically went to earlier that day in the rain— watching her dance and spin in puddles like a damn lunatic —but when he thought harder… no . That feeling—that tight, twisting feeling in his chest— had always been there.
And when he really thought back… one memory came up first: The first day of class.
He remembered it too well—far better than he’d like to admit.
It was supposed to be just another day—nothing special, nothing new. But then…there she was.
The first thing he had noticed was how pink she was, a bright pink that somehow wasn’t obnoxious or loud. It suited her.
Her eyes were the next thing he noticed— big, bright, and blue like the sky after a storm. And her smile… soft, warm, like she’d never known a bad day in her life. She was all pink—even her backpack that had been cluttered with keychains, pins, and some fluffy white dog plush.
For a second—just a second—he’d frozen, his scowl faltering.
She’s gorgeous.
That thought had shot through him fast—too fast. He’d shaken it off, tightening his grip on his coffee and dragging his gaze back to his laptop.
But the more he tried to ignore her, the harder it became. His eyes kept drifting back— to the way her hands moved when she spoke, to the curve of her lips as she smiled. None of that mattered. All he could focus on was her perfume—sweet and floral, delicate in a way that clung to the air. It lingered in his head, soft and warm and annoying .
It had irritated him. She had irritated him. Too pink, too cheerful, too... perfect. Like she belonged somewhere softer, somewhere safer. Not here. Not with him. How long had he tried to convince himself that she was just another woman? That she was too annoying, too irritating to be anything else.
But now… Now, sitting on his couch with a beer in hand and his chest feeling like something was trying to claw its way out, Katsuki knew better.
That day? That feeling? It hadn’t been irritation— it had been this . This burning, choking pressure in his chest. This damn ache. He’d loved her since the start— since the very first second his dumbass eyes landed on her —and he’d been too stupid to realize it.
And when he thought back… how many other moments had there been like that? The way his stomach twisted when she smiled at him. The way he always noticed her laugh, even in a crowded room. The way he found himself watching her without even thinking about it—just drawn to her, like his eyes couldn’t stay away. All this time… and he’d been too dumb to see it.
“...Shit,” Katsuki muttered again, voice low and rough.
Kirishima grinned. “Yeah,” he chuckled. “Shit.”
But wasn’t this what he wanted?
Hadn’t he chased after her with this goal in mind— to date her, to be with her, to love her? He might’ve been too blind to put a name to the feeling back then, but isn’t that what this all was? His dumbass heart had been set on her from the start. He’d just been too stubborn, too prideful to admit it— too scared to face how deep he had fallen and continue to fall.
But now…
Now he knew. And wasn’t love supposed to lead somewhere? Wasn’t that the whole point?
His thoughts turned faster than he could stop them—tumbling headfirst down a path that felt too big, too overwhelming.
Marriage?
His pulse kicked up, his grip tightening around the bottle in his hand.
But isn’t that what dating’s for? He swallowed hard. To find someone you wanna be with forever?
He blinked rapidly, like he could shake the thought out of his head— but it wouldn’t leave.
Instead, it just… kept spiraling.
Rosie in a white dress— his girl, standing at the end of the aisle, looking at him like he hung the damn moon . A ring on her finger, one that he put there. Her hands in his, her voice saying yes, and I do, and always.
His chest tightened. His heart thudded in his ribs, almost painful.
But it didn’t stop there. His mind kept racing, pushing him further, faster— deeper into a life he hadn’t even realized he’d started craving.
Rosie curled up on their couch, wrapped in one of his hoodies—her fingers resting against her stomach, her body softer, rounder. Pregnant . With his kid.
He imagined coming home from patrol, body aching and muscles sore—but there she’d be, glowing and warm and waiting for him. Maybe she'd be in the kitchen, making dinner while humming along to some dumb pop song she loved. Maybe she’d be on the couch, half-asleep with Maya curled up beside her. And when he walked through the door, her face would light up like he was the best damn thing she’d ever seen.
“Hey,” she’d smile, that sweet smile that always knocked the wind out of him. “Welcome home.”
And fuck, he wanted that.
Needed that.
He wanted to walk through that door every night and know she’d be there— warm and safe, wearing his ring, carrying his kid.
He wanted to hear her laugh bouncing off the walls of their home. He wanted to see her curled up in their bed, hair messy, skin glowing in the morning light. He wanted to kiss her sleepy smile, brush his fingers over her stomach, feel their baby kick against his palm.
He needed her in his life— tied to him in every way possible.
The thought hit him like a punch to the gut.
Could he do that? Could he be that? A husband? A dad?
Could he protect her like she deserved—give her the life she wanted, the life she deserved? Could he be the man who came home at the end of the day and kissed her before tucking their kid into bed?
He thought about his own parents—about his mom, strong and fierce and loud. About his dad, quiet and steady, always there to ground them both.
Could he be that kind of man—a man strong enough to hold it all together?
The thought terrified him.
But when he closed his eyes and saw her— his Rosie, smiling at him like he was something good, something worthy —that fear didn’t feel so heavy. Because if there was one thing he knew for sure— one thing he felt burning in his chest like a damn fire — it was that he’d do anything for her. Even if it scared the hell out of him.
The knock on the door came sharp and sudden, dragging Katsuki out of his spiraling thoughts. With a rough sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the already wild blond strands.
That must be the guys , he thought, grateful for the distraction. He stood, walking to the door and unlocking it—only to scowl the second he saw who was standing there.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled.
She stood in the doorway, arms crossed beneath her chest, her eyes sharp and smug like she knew something he didn’t.
“I need you,” she purred, voice syrupy sweet.
“Not interested.” Katsuki moved to shut the door in her face, but she stepped forward, blocking it with her foot.
“You can’t still be messing around with that little girl, can you?” she sneered.
His temper flared instantly. " None of your business what I do."
“Please,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You don’t do girlfriends. You told me that when I asked.”
Katsuki barked out a cold laugh. “Look, you were just an easy fuck. Nothing more, nothing less. I told you from the beginning what I wanted, and you were so damn eager to agree.”
Her face twisted in anger and humiliation, her cheeks turning red. “You’ll get bored of her,” she snapped. “And when you do, you’ll come crawling back to me.”
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, his voice sharp like a blade. “Frankly? That’s not gonna happen. If she were to break up with me, I’d keep chasing after her— because she's it for me. ”
Before he could blink, her hand shot out, grabbing his collar as she tried to yank him closer—her face angling toward his, lips puckering.
Crazy bitch.
His instincts kicked in before he could think. Katsuki seized her wrist, twisting her arm behind her back as he spun her around and shoved her roughly back into the hallway.
“Don’t touch me,” he growled before slamming the door in her face.
A low whistle cut through the air. Katsuki turned to see Kirishima leaning in the hallway, beer still in hand, his grin smug and amused.
“Think you might have a stalker yourself, man.”
“Not funny,” Katsuki grunted.
“You’re right,” Kirishima chuckled. “It’s fucking hilarious. ”
The next day, Katsuki sat in class, pretending to focus on his notes, but his eyes kept drifting forward—straight to her .
Rosie sat perched in her seat, her laptop open with neat notes pulled up on the screen. She kept sneaking glances at her phone, her face pink, her fingers tapping out messages at lightning speed. Every few moments, she’d bite her lip, trying to hold back a giggle, her shoulders shaking just slightly.
Katsuki’s heart clenched in his chest.
She’s so fucking cute…
Her pink hair spilled down her back, wavy and soft-looking, like silk. Her sweater was pale pink today, hugging her figure just right. She was wearing those earrings he liked— the silver hoops with little pink butterfly charms dangling from them.
His Rosie, all soft and sweet, blushing and squirming like he wasn’t watching her. He smirked and pulled out his phone.
Katsuki: You’re blushing, princess. What are you thinking about?
Babydoll: I’m not blushing!! >///<
Katsuki: You totally are. Your face is pinker than your hair.
Babydoll: You're so annoying 😤
Katsuki: Yeah? Well, I think you’re cute when you get all flustered. Makes me wanna see what other sounds I can pull outta you.
Babydoll:Katsuki!
Katsuki: What? Just sayin’… if you’re still pink-faced later, I might have to pin you down and see just how pink I can make you all over when I spread those pretty legs of yours…
Babydoll: You’re such a perv!
Katsuki: Yeah? And you love it, don’t you? Bet you’re squirming in your seat right now.
Babydoll: I hate you 😡
Katsuki: Nah, you adore me. Don’t worry—I’ll remind you later when I’m the one making you blush.
When class finally ended, Katsuki waited until Aizawa left and everyone else before he grabbed his bag and practically stalked up to Rosie, sliding his arm around her waist before she could so much as zip her backpack.
“You’re such a menace ,” she mumbled, her face still pink as she shot him a pout.
“Yeah?” Katsuki smirked, tugging her closer until her side was flush against him. “You’re the one who’s been texting me all day.”
“You started it!”
“And you kept going ,” he shot back, pressing a quick kiss to her temple before steering her out of the lecture hall.
Rosie swatted at his chest, still pouting— but her hand curled into his jacket, fingers tangling in the fabric like she couldn’t quite bring herself to let go.
“You’re still blushing,” Katsuki muttered against her ear. “Gotta say, kinda wanna keep you like this all day.”
“You’re impossible,” she huffed.
“Yet, you continue to be my girl.”
“Unfortunately.”
Katsuki barked out a laugh, tugging her closer as they headed toward the quad. He didn’t care how long it took —he’d keep her blushing, smiling, and flustered as much as he damn well pleased.
“What do you want for lunch?” Katsuki asked as they stepped out of the History building, his arm still slung lazily around her waist.
Rosie hummed, her eyes flicking to the cloudy sky. “I kinda want ramen,” she said with a smile.
“Ramen it is,” he said, letting his arm drop as they walked side by side. He couldn’t help but watch her as she smiled, her face bright despite the dreary weather.
The walk to their usual ramen spot was short, but Katsuki found himself sneaking glances at her the whole way—the way her hair swayed with each step, the way she tucked her hands into the oversized sleeves of her sweater, the way her cheeks still had that faint pink hue from their earlier texts. So damn cute...
When they finally slid into a booth, Rosie seemed... different. Her smile had faded just a little, and she kept fiddling with her napkin, fingers twisting and tugging at the paper like she was trying to distract herself.
Katsuki narrowed his eyes. “Alright... what’s up?”
“What?” she blinked, glancing up.
“You’re fidgeting,” he grunted. “You only do that when you’re nervous.”
Rosie shifted in her seat, her fingers curling around her chopsticks now instead. “I... I got a call a while back.”
Katsuki leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Yeah?”
“It was from Miyaki—the owner of Ignis Inferno. ”
His brows lifted slightly. “The burlesque cabaret place?”
She nodded. “Yeah. He… um… she offered me a job.”
Katsuki blinked, silent for a beat. “...Huh.”
“She said she’s willing to pay me double what I’m making now,” Rosie added quickly. “And I’d only have to work weekends and special occasions.” She paused, glancing up at him carefully. “I… I’m kinda interested. It sounds fun.”
Katsuki didn’t say anything right away, just sat back and let her words settle. “...Is that what you wanna do?” he asked finally, voice low but even.
She nodded. “Yeah... I think so.”
“Then do it.”
Rosie’s lips parted, her face softening in surprise. “Wait, that’s it?”
Katsuki shrugged. “Yeah.”
“But... what do you think about it?”
“I think...” He paused, gaze steady. “If you’re happy, then I’m happy.”
Her eyes widened a little, like she wasn’t expecting that answer. “You’re really okay with it?”
“What, you think I’d be jealous?” Katsuki snorted. “You think some rich assholes throwin’ cash at you is gonna bother me?”
Rosie laughed lightly, but she still looked a little uncertain. “I don’t know… I just figured you’d —”
“Rosie, doll, ” Katsuki interrupted, voice dropping lower as he slid his hand beneath the table. His fingers found her thigh, tracing slow circles against the soft fabric of her sheer tights. “It’s my name you cry out when you orgasm…” His fingers drifted higher, brushing closer to where her legs met. “So why the hell would I be jealous?”
Rosie squeaked, her hand shooting out to grab his wrist under the table. “Katsuki!” she hissed, her face turning a bright shade of pink.
He smirked, his thumb teasing right where her clit was before he relented and withdrew his hand.
“You’re impossible,” she mumbled, hiding her face behind her hand.
Katsuki leaned back in his seat, smug satisfaction curling in his chest as he watched his girlfriend melt into a shy, flustered mess.
“Yeah,” he said with a grin. “But you never complain.”
The rooftop was quiet aside from the faint hum of the city below. Katsuki stood with his arms crossed, crimson eyes locked on Hawks, who lounged lazily on a railing, wings half-spread as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“So,” Hawks drawled, taking a slow sip from his coffee cup. “You’re sure it’s the same stalker?”
“Yeah,” Katsuki grunted.
Hawks hummed thoughtfully, setting his coffee down on the ledge. “We could go with my plan and bait ’em,” he suggested. “Put out some false info, maybe set up a decoy. Make ’em slip up.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.” Katsuki’s gaze sharpened. “I can set somethin’ up on my end— make it seem like I’ve got a schedule change or— ”
“Ohhhh,” Hawks cut in, a slow grin curling on his face. “ That schedule change, huh?”
Katsuki scowled. “What the hell are you on about?”
“Well,” Hawks shrugged, feathers ruffling. “Word on the street is that you’ve been... distracted .” His grin widened. “I heard the paparazzi buzzing about you with some pretty thing.”
Katsuki kept his face neutral, barely resisting the urge to scoff. “I dunno what the hell that media is on about,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“C’mon,” Hawks chuckled. “Only a woman could get the Katsuki Bakugou to become distracted.” His golden eyes gleamed. “She your girlfriend?”
Katsuki’s eye twitched. “I told you, I don’t know what they’re talkin’ about.”
“Riiight.” Hawks drawled the word out like he didn’t believe a damn thing. “You sure? 'Cause I’ve seen you pretty fired up before, but lately? Man, you’re downright glowing .”
“Drop it,” Katsuki growled, heat creeping up the back of his neck.
“I mean,” Hawks continued, like he was having way too much fun with this, “if you wanna keep it quiet, I get it. Some things are better kept private. Can’t have the number two hero getting all jealous, right?”
Katsuki snorted. “Jealous?” He shot Hawks a sharp grin. “Please. If anyone’s jealous, it’s your feathered ass.”
Hawks laughed, loud and carefree. “Fair point.” He grabbed his coffee again, flashing a lopsided grin. “But hey... if you ever need tips, let me know.”
“Tch.” Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be sure to ask you for dating advice, seeing as you’re an old bachelor.”
Hawks grinned wider, like Katsuki had walked right into a trap.
“Old? You wound me, kid,” Hawks shot back, placing a hand over his chest like Katsuki had dealt him some mortal blow. “I’m just shy of being eight years older than you.”
“Yeah? Then why don’t you take your own damn advice and get a girlfriend?” Katsuki snorted.
“Work too much,” Hawks shrugged, feathers rustling as if brushing off the conversation. Then, with a sideways glance and a knowing smile, he added, “But there’s nothing wrong with having a little motivation. Comes in a lot of forms, y’know... Even pink-haired ones with bright blue eyes... maybe the daughter of a certain pro hero?”
Katsuki’s stomach dropped. His muscles tensed like he'd been hit with a stun grenade.
His mind raced. Shit. Shit. Shit.
He kept his face neutral, but inside he is panicking . Did Hawks know? Had the bastard been digging around? Or was this just Hawks being Hawks— teasing, pushing, poking until something cracked? Either way, Katsuki felt like his heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest.
Stay cool. Stay cool.
“I dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” Katsuki muttered, forcing out a low scoff. “Don’t know where you’re pullin’ this crap from, but you’re way off.”
“Yeah?” Hawks’ grin widened as if he could see right through him. “I mean, hey... no shame in it.” He tilted his head, sharp gaze narrowing. “Distraction isn’t always a bad thing, y’know. People like her? They’ve got a way of keepin' you grounded— keepin’ you from burning yourself out. ”
“I’m not distracted,” Katsuki snapped, voice a little too sharp. “I’m just busy. It’s called being a goddamn pro hero.”
“Busy,” Hawks repeated, dragging the word out like it amused him. “Sure, sure. But you’ve been a hell of a lot calmer lately. No explosions in public, no starting fights at agency meetings, and from what I hear—” Hawks’ grin turned smug, “ —you’ve been ditching your usual gym routine to sneak off for ‘lunch breaks’ near a certain coffee shop. Sound familiar? ”
Katsuki’s jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached.
Shit. He noticed that?
“I’m just sayin’,” Hawks continued with a lazy shrug, “maybe you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself about all this. Having someone who makes you wanna be better? That’s not somethin’ to feel bad about. ”
“There’s nothin’ to feel bad about,” Katsuki snapped again, this time with more force. “Because there’s nothin’ goin’ on. I don’t know what bullshit you’ve heard, but you’re full of it.”
“Uh-huh,” Hawks said, taking another smug sip of his coffee. “Sure thing, lover boy. ”
Katsuki nearly growled. Calm down. Don’t blow up the damn rooftop. He forced himself to take a deep breath, biting back the dozen curses threatening to spill out.
He didn’t need this. He didn’t need Hawks poking around, and he definitely didn’t need anyone figuring out how badly Rosie had gotten under his skin. How her laugh stuck in his head for hours. How the scent of her shampoo lingered on his clothes after they spent time together. How she’d smiled at him that morning before class, wearing that stupid pink sweater, and how it made his heart feel like it was about to explode.
But no—Hawks didn’t know any of that. He was just guessing. He had to be.
Katsuki shoved the rising panic down, forcing himself to breathe. Hawks couldn’t know. He was just fishing for a reaction —typical birdbrain tactics. If Katsuki stayed cool, he’d back off.
“Can we get back to the stalker now?” Katsuki growled, voice low and sharp.
Hawks chuckled, the sound warm and lazy, like this was all just some joke to him. He took a slow sip of his coffee, that smug grin never leaving his face. “Sure, sure.” He paused, savoring the moment like he was enjoying watching Katsuki squirm. Then, with an innocent shrug, Hawks added, “Y’know… she makes really great coffee.”
Katsuki blinked. What?
“Since nothing’s goin’ on between you two,” Hawks continued, all casual and smooth. “Guess I’ll just have to ask her out myself.”
Katsuki’s entire body went rigid. His hand twitched like it was dying to spark with an explosion.
“What?” he bit out, voice low and dangerous.
“A pretty thing like her?” Hawks went on, grinning wider. “She’s the rare kind of woman you wanna make your wife—the kind you wanna come home to every day.” He took another slow sip of his coffee, eyes sharp and watching. “Might be worth takin' a shot.”
Katsuki’s teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached. His blood roared in his ears, a deep, ugly heat twisting in his chest.
He knew what Hawks was doing— baiting him, pushing him, trying to get him to crack. And dammit, it was working. His mind was already spinning.
Rosie… with Hawks?
The thought made something dark curl inside him—something possessive and fierce. Rosie wasn’t just some girl he could forget about. She is his. His adorable, pink-haired, sunshine-bright girl. The one who smiled at him like he wasn’t just a walking grenade. The one who teased him, held his hand, kissed him so sweet it made his head spin.
The idea of Hawks—or anyone else—putting his hands on her? Hearing her laugh the way she laughed with him? Seeing that shy, flustered smile Katsuki had spent months earning?
No. Hell no.
“You’re not askin’ her out,” Katsuki snarled before he could stop himself.
“Oh?” Hawks lifted a brow, clearly enjoying this far too much. “Didn’t think you cared.”
“I don’t,” Katsuki snapped. His fist clenched on the table hard enough to make the wood creak. “But she’s too good for some lazy bastard like you. She’s smart, she’s got standards— she’d never waste her time on some asshole that flirts with every damn thing that moves. ”
Hawks let out a low whistle, clearly pleased. “Damn, man. Soundin' kinda protective there.”
“I’m just sayin',” Katsuki gritted out, “she’s not some chick you can just charm with a few lazy smiles and shitty pickup lines. She deserves better.”
“Better, huh?” Hawks smirked. “Like… you ?”
Katsuki’s scowl deepened, heat crawling up his neck.
“Y’know,” Hawks added with a grin, “if you keep actin' like this, you’re gonna blow that whole ‘I dunno what you’re talkin’ about’ act.”
“Shut the hell up,” Katsuki muttered, grabbing his coffee and taking a furious gulp. The liquid burned down his throat, but it didn’t do a damn thing to cool the fire in his chest.
Because deep down, he knew the truth.
Hawks wasn’t wrong. Rosie is the kind of woman you wanted to come home to— the kind who made you want to be better, stronger, worth something. And if Katsuki ever let her slip away…
He didn’t finish the thought.
Because he wasn’t gonna let that happen.
He would tell her he loved her and marry her. Because that’s how it went. She is his so why waste time?
Notes:
I ended up changing this chapter so many times because I wasn't satisfied with it and I constantly couldn't decide as this chapter was originally supposed to be apart of the last chapter. I might rework it and edit it later and add some more scenes to it later. I dunno yet, might just save those scenes for an upcoming chapter. Anyway, you can check out the playlist here and I will add to it as the story progresses<3
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3JKOT3KXQtqq9dmOJfsGDl?si=30c94d96ac1b4430
Chapter 71: He didn’t know whether to thank or curse Akira for corrupting his sweet innocent girlfriend,
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie had always been a bit oblivious. She knew that about herself—her mom had called her Space Cadet for as long as she could remember, and her dad had affectionately dubbed her Sunshine . She didn’t mind; being a little scatterbrained wasn’t the worst thing in the world. But despite her tendency to drift off in thought, she did note the important changes in her life. She had noticed something recently.
Katsuki had changed.
It wasn’t huge, not the kind of change anyone else would really catch—but she did. Ever since that night in the rain— after everything they’d been through —he’d been… different . Subtle, but different. He was more touchy, less distant. Even in public, he seemed to hover near her, always keeping close enough that his hand could brush hers. He never outright clung to her, but he was there, always just within reach.
She hadn’t asked why. Maybe she didn’t need to.
“Rosie!”
Mina’s excited voice pulled her from her thoughts just as the pink-haired girl pounced from behind, wrapping her in a tight hug. Rosie barely managed to keep her boba from spilling.
“Are you coming to the party Friday?” Mina beamed.
Rosie blinked. “Oh! Uh… yeah, sure! I'd love to.”
The words slipped out before she could second-guess herself. Normally, after everything that happened at the last party—being drugged, kidnapped, and chased by a hitman—she might have been more hesitant. But it had been almost two weeks now, and she wanted to go out, to do something fun.
“Perfect!” Mina grinned. “I mean, it’s Halloween this Friday—you have to.”
Rosie smiled despite herself. “I can’t wait to see everyone’s costumes. I know DND isn’t everyone’s thing, but I’m really curious to see what everyone’s vision of their character will be.”
“Me too, girl!” Mina giggled.
“You working today?”
“Yeah,” Rosie nodded, taking another sip of her brown sugar boba. “But it’s a short shift since all five of us are scheduled. Just four hours.”
As they walked, Rosie glanced back over her shoulder. Katsuki and Kirishima trailed behind them, deep in conversation. Her gaze lingered on Katsuki—the way he walked like he owned the ground beneath his feet, his shoulders squared, his arms crossed loosely like nothing in the world could faze him.
Just then, Katsuki’s eyes flicked to her—sharp and burning like embers catching wind. His mouth quirked in a slow, lazy smirk. Rosie’s heart stuttered in her chest, and she whipped her head forward, her face going hot.
Mina must have noticed. “Are you ever going to make a move?” she whispered, leaning in close.
Rosie’s fingers tightened around her cup. “Maybe,” she mumbled, eyes locked straight ahead. “I don’t think he likes me like that, though.”
“Oh, come on,” Mina groaned. “Dude is so head over heels for you.”
Rosie just shook her head, lips twitching like she wanted to laugh but couldn’t quite let herself. If only Mina knew.
Instead, Rosie said nothing. She knew that only Kirishima, Shoto, and Akira knew about her and Katsuki’s secret relationship— a detail they’d kept hidden for now. No one else suspected a thing.
Still, curiosity got the better of her, and she glanced back again. Katsuki was still watching her, his eyes practically glowing, that sharp grin widening like he knew exactly what she was thinking. For a second—just a second—his teeth seemed to sharpen, the distinct fangs becoming more pronounced as they flashed behind his smirk.
Rosie blinked, and the image vanished.
Did I just…? No, I must be imagining things…
Instead of dwelling on it, she shyly lifted her hand and waved at him. Katsuki didn’t wave back, but his grin softened— something closer to fondness flickering in his expression.
Mina didn’t miss it. “See?” she teased, nudging Rosie’s side. “ So into you.”
Rosie bit her lip, feeling her face heat again. “I hope so,” she muttered quietly, more to herself than anyone else.
Katsuki’s gaze stayed locked on her the whole way to her work.
Rosie let out a long yawn, stretching her arms above her head as she slumped behind the counter. The coffee shop was dead —not a soul in sight—yet for some reason, their boss had decided to schedule all five of them to work this slow afternoon. Maybe he thought the Halloween decorations would magically draw people in, but nope. Just crickets.
“Rosie,” Yui’s voice broke her thoughts as she stepped out from the kitchen, looking exasperated. “They’re fighting again.”
Rosie groaned. “Of course they are.” Standing, she rolled her shoulders back. “I’ll go take care of it. Take the counter?”
“Sure,” Yui muttered, sounding almost smug like she was glad it wasn’t her problem.
Rosie trudged into the kitchen, muttering under her breath. Sure enough, Shinso and Kanako were squared off—a solid foot apart—screaming at each other like they were in some dramatic TV soap. Both of them were covered in flour again; they looked like a pair of angry ghosts. Rosie immediately spotted the flour bag sitting on the counter—or rather, what was left of it. Yui must’ve yanked it away before things got worse.
“You two are supposed to be baking pastries, not screaming obscenities,” Rosie deadpanned. She paused, eyeing the flour-covered war zone. “...Do I even wanna know?”
“He’s impossible to work with!” Kanako huffed, flour streaking across her hair like messy snow.
“Oh, I’m impossible?” Shinso shot back. “All you do is whine and complain! My mom’s dog doesn’t bitch as much as you—and she’s a Pomeranian !”
Kanako gasped like he’d slapped her. “Take that back!”
“ Hell no! ”
“Alright, enough!” Rosie barked, raising her hands. “Both of you—go clean up in the employee room before I personally drag you both out there.”
They both opened their mouths to argue, but Rosie shot them her best Don’t mess with me look that she used on her Dad. Kanako grumbled something under her breath, and Shinso muttered, “Whatever,” as they slouched off like scolded children.
Rosie took one look at the flour-caked mess they’d left behind and groaned. “I wanna go home…” she muttered, running a hand through her hair.
She peeked at the clock— twenty more minutes.
Resigning herself to fate, she returned to the front and asked Yui to clean the kitchen. Ten minutes passed. No sign of Shinso or Kanako.
“Hey, Yui!” Rosie called.
“Yeah?”
“Come man the counter. I’m gonna check if those two are killing each other back there.”
“They probably are!” Yui shouted back.
Rosie snorted and headed down the hallway toward the employee room. She barely pushed the door open before freezing in place.
Kanako was straddling Shinso on the couch, still covered in flour, and the two of them were very enthusiastically making out.
“Oh my god,” Rosie blurted, staring.
“Shit!” Shinso jerked away from Kanako like he’d been electrocuted. Kanako scrambled off of him so fast she accidentally kneed him in the stomach.
“Ow!” Shinso groaned, curling up on the couch.
“Rosie!” Kanako blurted, red-faced and wild-eyed. “It’s not what you think!”
Rosie blinked, unimpressed. “Oh no, it’s exactly what I think.” She pointed at them both. “Next time? Instead of wasting flour throwing it at each other, again just… come back here and make out like normal people. That way our boss won’t dock your pay for the waste of flour again.”
Without waiting for a reply, Rosie walked straight to her locker, grabbed her purse, and tossed her apron inside. She turned to leave just as Shinso muttered, "I think she’s onto us."
“Gee, you think?” Kanako hissed back.
Rosie snorted quietly and pushed open the back door, only to nearly collide with Riku, one of their regular customers.
“Oh!” Riku took a step back, blinking wide-eyed. “Hey… you off?”
“Yeah,” Rosie smiled, adjusting her purse on her shoulder. “Heading out now. Got plans with some friends later.”
“Oh, cool, cool…” Riku trailed off, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “Uh… so…” His gaze flickered anywhere but her face which she found strange as he was always straightforward and very articulate with his words
“So?” she prompted, already knowing where this was going.
“Well… I was wondering if maybe… you’d wanna… go out sometime?” Riki stammered, face turning pink. “Like… a date?”
Rosie blinked, caught off guard. “Oh! Um…” She smiled apologetically. “I’m flattered, but… I’m kinda not interested in dating a customer. And…” she hesitated, debating how much to say. “I’ve already got my eye on someone else.”
Riku’s smile faltered, but he quickly masked it with a shrug. “Oh! Yeah, no, I get it. No worries!”
“Thanks for asking, though.” Rosie offered a kind smile before slipping past him.
As she walked outside, her gaze immediately found Katsuki waiting by his car, hands shoved in his pockets. Mina and Kirishima stood beside him, animatedly chattering about something. Rosie smiled, her earlier awkwardness forgotten.
“You ready?” Mina grinned as Rosie approached.
“Yeah,” Rosie said, her smile warming as Katsuki moved to open the car door for her.
As she slid inside, Rosie glanced at the side mirror—only to see Riku now standing near the café entrance, watching her with an odd look she couldn’t decipher.
That strange, uneasy feeling stirred in her chest again— the same one she’d felt when being watched. Shaking off the chill that crept down her spine, she settled back into her seat and let herself relax as Katsuki climbed into the car and started it. The engine and Mina talking, drowning out the feeling in her chest.
The apartment felt warm and comfortable, filled with the soft murmur of conversation and the quiet hum of Katsuki’s game. The coffee table was littered with textbooks, notebooks, and crumpled pieces of paper from Mina and Kirishima’s disastrous attempts at their English practice. Rosie’s sweater sleeves were pushed up to her elbows, her hair piled loosely on top of her head, and she sat cross-legged on the floor, her finger tapping her notes as she drilled her friends on grammar rules.
“I still don’t get why this crap has so many weird rules,” Kirishima groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Why are there so many exceptions?”
“That’s just English,” Rosie said with a laugh, flipping one of his papers over. “But you guys will get this. You’ve improved so much already.”
“She’s just being nice,” Mina muttered dramatically, slumping across the table. “We’re doomed.”
“You’re not doomed,” Rosie insisted. “You just need to stop writing ‘their’ when you mean ‘they’re’—and stop trying to make ‘ain’t’ happen in your essays.”
“But it sounds cool,” Kirishima said with a grin.
“Yeah, until you get a big, fat zero on your test.”
Katsuki returned then, dropping his keys on the counter and making his way to the living room. He’d taken Maya to the dog park, and now she trotted beside him, her tail wagging lazily.
“Hey,” Rosie greeted him with a smile, her focus momentarily breaking from Mina and Kirishima.
Katsuki gave her a soft grunt of acknowledgment, one corner of his mouth quirking upward. He dropped down on the couch with Maya flopping beside him, curling in his lap like a lazy little loaf. Katsuki grabbed his controller and resumed playing Tarkov, his sharp gaze fixed on the screen as gunfire echoed faintly from his headset.
Once Rosie finished helping Mina and Kirishima (who both looked mildly more confident than before), she packed up the papers and shoved them aside. “Okay,” she exhaled, rolling her shoulders, “I think we’ve all earned a break.”
She went to her fridge, pulling out a bottle of wine for her and Mina and grabbing some beers for the guys.
“Yes!” Mina cheered as Rosie poured them both glasses.
“You’re my hero,” Kirishima grinned, accepting the beer Rosie handed him.
Rosie turned to Mina. “You mind helping me cook?”
“Of course!” Mina hopped up enthusiastically, following Rosie into the kitchen.
While Katsuki and Kirishima sat side by side on the couch, their focus locked on Tarkov, the girls busied themselves with dinner preparations. Rosie stood by the stove, stirring a pan of sizzling chicken while Mina chopped vegetables on the counter.
“You know…” Mina started, her voice low and teasing, “We should totally go to the beach next weekend after class.”
Rosie paused, glancing over her shoulder with a smile. “That sounds fun!”
“Right?” Mina grinned. “We should ask everyone now so we can book something early.”
“Good idea,” Rosie agreed. “We can probably get a cute little rental or something. I think Momo’s been dying to plan a trip like that.”
Mina giggled. “Oh, she totally has. She’s been talking about it nonstop.”
“I’m excited just thinking about it,” Rosie said brightly, stirring the pan.
“Me too!” Mina beamed, setting the cutting board down with a flourish.
Once dinner was ready, the four of them settled in the living room. The coffee table had been cleared of study materials and now held plates piled with grilled chicken, rice, and vegetables. The soft clink of cutlery and glasses filled the room as they dug in.
“So…” Kirishima began between bites. “Beach trip, huh?”
“Yeah!” Mina grinned. “We were thinking Friday after class—head out there for the weekend.”
Kirishima beamed. “Hell yeah! I’m down.”
Katsuki snorted. “You’re always down for stuff like this.”
“Yeah, because it’s fun, man!” Kirishima grinned before turning to Rosie. “You sure you wanna go too?”
“Of course!” Rosie laughed. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well… after everything that’s happened…” His smile faltered slightly.
Rosie’s expression softened, but she forced a bright smile. “I’ll be fine. It’ll be fun. Besides,” her gaze flicked briefly to Katsuki, “I’ll have you guys there.”
Katsuki, still chewing, shot her a look that clearly said Damn right you will.
“Well, count me in,” Katsuki grunted before taking another swig of his beer.
Mina gasped dramatically. “Wait, you’re actually agreeing to a trip? No grumbling?”
“Don’t push it, Pinky,” Katsuki shot back.
“Wow,” Mina muttered to Rosie in a fake whisper. “He must really like you.”
Rosie snorted into her wine glass, her cheeks warming. “Shut up.”
Katsuki just smirked, setting his beer down and leaning back into the couch with a smug look that made Rosie’s stomach flip. She took another sip of wine to hide her flustered smile.
As they ate, the conversation continued to drift—from beach plans, to costume ideas for the Halloween party, to Mina loudly declaring that she would absolutely win the dance contest at the party.
Through it all, Rosie kept sneaking glances at Katsuki—the way his sharp eyes flicked toward her every so often, the way his fingers flexed against his beer bottle like he was restless, like he was waiting for an excuse to drag her closer.
She took another sip of wine, her gaze flicking to the balcony. For a brief second, she swore she saw someone standing on it—a shadowy figure just standing and watching.
Blinking, they were gone as though they were never there to begin with.
Katsuki’s eyes shifted to her then, his sharp gaze lingering a second too long. Rosie smiled at him— soft and reassuring —and he gave a barely perceptible nod before turning back to the game.
He’s got me , she reminded herself. He’s always got me.
Rosie sat on her couch, her phone resting on the armrest beside her as she glared at the screen like it had personally insulted her. No texts. No calls. Nothing. She tapped the side of the phone with her finger, the rhythmic thud, thud, thud grating against her nerves.
What is going on with him?
Katsuki had dropped her off after class with a curt, “I’ve got an errand to run,” before she could even ask where he was going. When she did ask to tag along— as she always did —he had shot her down almost instantly. His tone had been firm, almost sharp, like he was putting up a wall between them.
"No, doll. Just... stay home. I'll see you later."
The forehead kiss he’d given her before disappearing down the sidewalk had felt so unlike him— brief and hesitant, nothing like the usual confident way he kissed her. There was no teasing brush of his lips against her jaw, no arm slipping low around her waist to pull her flush against him. Nothing like the hungry and intense ones that left her breathless and panties soaking. Just a quick press to her forehead, like he was afraid to linger too long.
Rosie frowned, her chest tightening.
Did I do something?
Her mind raced, searching for answers. Had she upset him by agreeing to go to the Halloween party despite his protests? He hadn’t been happy about her saying yes, but Katsuki wasn’t the type to get petty over something like that. He’d grumble, sure, but he wouldn’t start acting weird.
Her thoughts spiraled further. Maybe he was just tired—school had been rough lately, and they had both been juggling work on top of it. Or maybe he was just stressed. Katsuki didn’t always talk about how he was feeling; sometimes he bottled things up until he was snapping at everyone.
Yeah... maybe it’s just that, Rosie told herself, but the uneasy feeling in her chest refused to fade.
Frustrated, she flopped back against the couch, tossing her phone onto the cushion beside her. Stop overthinking it , she scolded herself.
Deciding she needed to clear her head, Rosie dragged herself into the bathroom. The hot shower helped a little, the steam calming her nerves. She let the water wash over her, willing her thoughts to quiet. By the time she stepped out, towel-drying her hair and pulling on a cozy sweater and sweats, she felt a little better.
Settling back on the couch, she turned on some trashy reality TV, hoping to lose herself in mindless drama. The ridiculous shouting matches and staged confrontations provided a decent distraction—for about ten minutes. Then her eyes drifted back to her phone.
Two hours had passed. Still nothing.
That’s it.
Snatching her phone off the couch, she was about to dial Katsuki’s number when the sound of a key scraping in the lock made her freeze.
Her heart jumped. It could only be two people—her dad or Katsuki.
“Katsuki?” she called out hesitantly.
“Yeah, doll?”
Relief washed over her at the sound of his voice, but her nerves lingered.
“How was your errand?” she asked, sitting up straighter on the couch.
There was a pause—a brief hesitation that immediately set her on edge. Then Katsuki stepped into the living room with a lazy smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Good,” he said simply.
Rosie opened her mouth to ask more when he suddenly stepped aside—and there, standing just behind him, was Akira.
Rosie’s breath hitched. Akira stood in the doorway, her dark hair pulled into a messy bun, wearing a cropped sweatshirt and sweats. She had a suitcase dragged behind her and a familiar, warm smile on her face.
“Hey,” Akira said softly.
Tears welled in Rosie’s eyes before she even realized they were coming. “Akira...?” Her voice broke on the name.
“I heard you needed me.”
Rosie practically tripped over her own feet as she stumbled off the couch, crossing the room in a blur before crashing into Akira’s arms.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Rosie mumbled, her voice muffled against Akira’s shoulder as her friend hugged her tightly. Akira’s fingers curled into the fabric of Rosie’s sweater like she didn’t want to let go, and Rosie’s own shoulders shook as she cried harder.
“I missed you,” Akira whispered.
Sniffling, Rosie wiped her face, pulling back just enough to look at her friend. “How... how did you get here? Did my dad—?”
“I’m gonna leave you two to... whatever it is girls do,” Katsuki muttered from behind her.
Rosie turned to him, her gaze softening. “Thank you,” she said thickly.
Katsuki looked like he was about to lean in and kiss her—but he stopped short, hesitating again. Instead, he grabbed her wrist, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her pulse point before stepping away.
“I’ll text you later,” he mumbled before heading for the door.
When the door clicked shut behind him, Rosie turned back to Akira. “Wait... did my dad call you?”
Akira shook her head. “No. Your boyfriend called me after you got attacked. He said you needed me.”
Rosie blinked. “He... called you?”
“He’s been very worried about you,” Akira said softly.
The sound of her voice shattered whatever restraint Rosie had been clinging to. She lurched forward, nearly tripping over her own feet as she stumbled into her arms.
Akira caught her without hesitation, holding her tightly as Rosie clung to her like she might disappear if she let go. Tears streamed down Rosie’s face, her breath hitching painfully in her chest.
“I— I missed you,” Rosie choked out, voice thick with emotion.
“I know,” Akira whispered, her own voice breaking. “I missed you too.”
For a while, they just stood there—Rosie gripping her like a lifeline, her face buried in Akira’s shoulder as she let weeks of tension and uncertainty spill out in ragged sobs.
When she finally pulled away, sniffling and wiping her face with her sleeve, she couldn’t even meet Akira’s eyes.
“Rosie?” Akira’s voice was gentle, but Rosie shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, her voice small.
Akira frowned. “What are you sorry for?”
Rosie exhaled shakily, dropping onto the couch like her legs had given out. “For doubting him,” she admitted. “For thinking…” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “For thinking that maybe he didn’t… care as much anymore.”
Akira sat down beside her, resting a hand on her knee. “Rosie…”
“I mean, he’s been so distant lately,” Rosie blurted, voice rising with frustration at herself. “He stopped kissing me like he used to—no more of those… those stupid, intense kisses that make my head spin. He’s been texting all the time and sneaking off to run ‘errands.’” She let out a shaky laugh, one that barely masked the hurt lingering beneath. “I thought… I thought maybe he was tired of me.”
Akira’s hand squeezed her knee. “Rosie,” she said again, softer this time. “You’re so painfully oblivious sometimes.”
“He told me you were struggling,” Akira continued. “That you were trying to act like you were fine, but you weren’t. He said you were barely sleeping, and that you kept brushing it off like it didn’t matter— like you didn’t matter. ” Akira’s voice cracked slightly, her eyes shining. “So he asked me to come. Said you needed someone who knew you better than anyone.”
Rosie stared at her, throat tight. He noticed. He knew.
“I told him I could get a week off,” Akira went on, “and before I could even figure out the details, he bought me a plane ticket. Picked me up from the airport himself and brought me here.”
Rosie pressed her hands to her face, overwhelmed. Katsuki had been distant because he was too busy trying to take care of her without her even realizing it.
“Oh god,” she groaned into her palms. “I was such an idiot.”
“No,” Akira said firmly. “You’re not an idiot.”
“I should’ve known,” Rosie muttered. “I should’ve trusted him.”
“Hey,” Akira reached out, gently pulling Rosie’s hands away from her face. “Don’t beat yourself up over this. It’s not like you knew what he was up to—he clearly didn’t want you to.” She paused, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “He’s stubborn like that.”
Rosie let out a weak laugh. “Yeah… he is.”
Her mind drifted back to that brief moment before he left—the way he stopped himself from kissing her like he normally would. Instead, he’d kissed her wrist, like he wasn’t sure if she’d still want him to kiss her the way he used to.
The ache in her chest deepened.
“I need to talk to him,” Rosie muttered, more to herself than Akira.
“You should,” Akira agreed. “But first…” She grinned and nudged Rosie’s side. “You should help me unpack my stuff. I didn’t fly all this way just for you to mope all night.”
Rosie let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah… yeah, okay.”
But even as they moved to grab Akira’s suitcase, Rosie’s mind lingered on Katsuki—on how hard he’d worked to make sure she had the support she needed, even if it meant stepping back when she needed someone else.
He’s always thinking about me, she thought.
“My god,” Akira muttered, setting her wine glass down with a sharp clink. “How the hell are you even getting out of bed at this point?”
Rosie let out a dry laugh, swirling the wine in her glass. “Honestly? I haven’t wanted to.” She took a sip, her gaze distant. “I’ve been forcing myself to get up because... I know if I don’t, I’ll just stay in bed until they catch him.” Her voice wavered at the end, like the words physically hurt to say.
Akira clenched her jaw, her fingers tightening around her glass. “Katsuki told me that your dad and uncle are on the case too,” she said, her voice firm. “They’re going to find him, Rosie.”
“I know,” Rosie murmured, setting her glass down and rubbing at her eyes. “But still... it’s like every time I step outside, I’m waiting for him to show up again.”
“On top of that asshole who attacked you and some psycho dumping hot coffee on you?” Akira’s hand slammed down on the table. “Jesus, you’ve had a rough couple of weeks.”
Rosie forced a weak smile. “Yeah... seems like my luck’s been fantastic lately.” She reached for the wine bottle and refilled her glass.
“Now,” Akira said, shifting the conversation, “explain this whole ‘Katsuki being distant’ thing?”
Rosie let out a long sigh, swirling her wine again before taking a big gulp. “It’s just... Katsuki hasn’t really tried to do anything more than kiss me.”
Akira blinked. “...And?”
“I mean, normally we’re... y’know ...” Rosie’s face heated, the wine only amplifying the blush creeping up her neck. Memories flickered in her mind— Katsuki’s hands gripping her waist, his breath hot against her skin, the way he could leave her breathless and trembling in minutes. Her thighs squeezed together involuntarily.
Akira arched a brow. “Okay, okay. So... when was the last time you two actually did something?”
Rosie bit her lip, her face growing even warmer. “The morning after he took a cab all the way to Yokohama.”
“Ohhhh,” Akira’s grin widened knowingly. “When you were out with the girls, right?”
“Yeah,” Rosie nodded. “He showed up drunk, apologizing for being an idiot.” She laughed softly, the memory bringing some warmth to her chest. “But the next morning? He more than made up for it.”
“Ohhh,” Akira cackled, sipping her wine with a sly smile. “So, it’s been two weeks of nothing but sweet, innocent kisses?”
“Yes,” Rosie groaned, dropping her head back against the couch. “I don’t get it! I mean, before that, I couldn’t get him to keep his hands off me.”
Akira hummed thoughtfully, her smirk turning downright wicked. “And where’s Mr. Explosion right now?”
“Out with the guys,” Rosie muttered, still sulking. “Either at Silven’s or Kirishima’s drinking.”
“Well,” Akira’s grin stretched wider, “do you wanna get his attention?”
Rosie lifted her head, eyes narrowing with suspicion. “...Yes?”
“Good.” Akira stood, motioning for Rosie to follow her. “C’mon. To your bedroom.”
“Why?” Rosie squinted at her, only half-rising from her seat.
Akira’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “I may not be able to help with your stalker problem, but I can get Katsuki back between your thighs where he belongs.”
Rosie snorted, half amused, half skeptical. “And how exactly are you gonna do that?”
Akira shot her a devilish grin. “ Trust Professor Akira, ” she purred. “Class is in session.”
The party was louder than Katsuki liked, but he’d figured it was better than sulking in his apartment. Rosie had wanted some time with Akira— which made sense —and he didn’t want to hover. So here he was, nursing a beer in some dimly lit house packed with people in half-assed Halloween costumes. Kaminari had thrown together some kind of vampire look that was mostly just a black cape and fake fangs. Kirishima, meanwhile, was decked out as some barbarian warrior, chest paint and all.
Katsuki leaned against the wall, watching as the two idiots tried to outdo each other with shots. Kirishima slammed his glass down with a triumphant grin while Kaminari groaned and swayed on his feet. Typical.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and without much thought, Katsuki fished it out, taking a casual sip of beer as he unlocked the screen.
Babydoll 💋: Miss you ❤️
Babydoll 💋: Thank you for bringing Akira
Babydoll 💋: To show my appreciation for being such a good and adoring boyfriend…
Babydoll 💋: You should come home soon...
His brows quirked up at that last one, and just as he took another sip, a new message arrived, an image.
He tapped it open.
Beer sprayed from his mouth as he choked, coughing hard enough to nearly lose his balance. His hand flew to his chest as he sucked in air, eyes wide and glued to his phone screen.
There she was, his Rosie, sitting on her bed, wearing nothing but a delicate orange lingerie set that barely covered anything. The lace hugged her curves, teasing more than it concealed. And to top it off, she wore his hoodie, unzipped just enough to show the sheer fabric underneath. Her shy expression, those big blue eyes staring up at the camera like she wasn’t fully sure what she was doing, nearly undid him.
“You okay, man?”
Katsuki jerked, immediately tilting his phone screen away as Kirishima clapped him on the back. “Y-Yeah,” Katsuki rasped, still struggling to catch his breath. “Just, uh... checking up on Rosie.”
Kirishima grinned. “You did good bringing Akira. Rosie seemed like she really needed her.”
“Yeah... yeah, she did,” Katsuki mumbled, barely paying attention as Kirishima wandered off. As soon as his friend was gone, Katsuki turned back to his phone.
Another text.
Babydoll 💋: You’re not too busy, are you?
Attached was a second picture, this time, Rosie was kneeling on the bed, her fingers pulling the hoodie down off one shoulder, leaving her collarbone and just enough skin to make his heart race.
Katsuki swallowed hard, his grip tightening around his phone.
Babydoll 💋: I promise I won’t start without you... ❤️
“Shit...” Katsuki muttered under his breath, setting his beer down hard on the nearest table, barely noticing the way it sloshed over the rim. He didn’t need another drink—he needed to get the hell out of there.
His heartbeat pounded in his ears as he shoved his way through the crowd, ignoring the sweaty bodies that stumbled into him. Kaminari’s slurred voice called out something about another round, but Katsuki barely registered it. His focus was laser-sharp on one goal—getting outside, getting to his car, and getting home.
But his damn phone wouldn’t stop buzzing.
He yanked it out of his pocket, swiping it open with one hand as he sidestepped a guy in a skeleton mask. Another text—another picture. Katsuki barely caught a glimpse before shoving the phone face-down against his thigh, heat searing up his neck.
“Shit, shit, shit...” he growled, trying to push down the fire coiling in his gut. His pants were already uncomfortably tight, and he clenched his jaw to keep from hissing aloud.
Still, his thumb betrayed him. As soon as he hit the porch steps, he flipped his phone back over.
Babydoll 💋: Wish you were here right now...
The attached photo had him swallowing hard. Rosie was sprawled out on her bed now, her legs slightly parted—just enough to tease—her fingers tugging at the hem of his hoodie like she was waiting for him to come take it off her. That orange lace clung to her skin in all the right places, and her hair was slightly tousled like she’d been rolling around on the sheets, getting comfortable. Those soft blue eyes stared up at the camera, sweet and inviting— like she knew exactly what she was doing to him.
His pulse hammered in his throat as he stumbled off the porch and made a beeline for his car. His hands shook as he dug his keys out of his pocket, fumbling for the right one while his phone buzzed again.
Another photo. This time, Rosie was biting her lower lip, her fingers tracing the strap of her lingerie top, teasing the edge of her chest.
Katsuki groaned under his breath, his head falling back against the car door as he squeezed his eyes shut. "Fuck..."
He couldn’t even sit down yet—not like this. His pants were painfully tight now, and just the thought of driving home like this made him want to scream. He forced a few deep breaths, willing the ache to subside, but his phone buzzed again.
Babydoll 💋: Don’t take too long...
“Goddamn it...” Katsuki growled, finally managing to unlock his car.
He slid into the driver’s seat, adjusting his jeans as best he could— not that it helped much. His knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, his mind racing.
He didn’t know whether to thank or curse Akira for corrupting his sweet innocent girlfriend
Notes:
I hate writing the plot stuff as I just want them to fuck already, You guys are being edged just as much as the characters are and I am...buttt I did love writing this chapter and I'm sorry for this chapter being out later than usual, you can blame my boyfriend for that since he took me out to go shopping instead of our usual lazy sundays<3
Chapter 72: I love you. I love you so much it’s suffocating.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki barely managed to shove his key into the lock, twisting it with a sharp click before he shouldered the door open. He didn’t bother flicking on the lights or taking off his shoes— he just kicked the door shut behind him and headed straight for the bedroom. His pulse pounded in his ears, drowning out everything else except the burning need building in his chest.
The bedroom door swung open, and there she was.
Rosie sat perched on her knees on the bed, still wrapped in his hoodie—his hoodie—with that sinful orange lace peeking out from beneath it. Her phone lay abandoned beside her, and her face was painted with the loveliest blush, her cheeks warm and pink as she stared up at him.
“Akira?” His voice came out rougher than he intended. “Where is she?”
“She went to stay the night with that guy she slept with last time she was here.” Rosie fidgeted with the sleeves of his hoodie, twisting the fabric between her fingers.
Katsuki swallowed hard. Sin and temptation. That’s what she was— a dangerous mix of both . His gorgeous, teasing girlfriend who had been driving him insane for weeks. And now she was sitting there like that— bare legs tucked beneath her, those soft blue eyes shining up at him like she didn’t know exactly what she was doing to him.
His fingers twitched at his sides, his body screaming at him to close the space between them. But he didn’t trust himself— didn’t trust himself to touch her and not spill the words he’d been biting back for weeks. He didn’t trust himself not to tell her that he loves her—and he wasn’t ready to fuck this up.
“Babydoll...” His voice was strained, low and rough. “What are you doing to me?”
Her lips curved just slightly, and her teeth caught her bottom lip in a way that made his brain short-circuit. “Seducing you,” she said softly, her voice light and sweet like she hadn’t just sent him spiraling for hours with those damn photos. “Did I do it right?”
Katsuki clenched his jaw so tightly it hurt. He felt the ache in his muscles, the tightness in his chest. His cock throbbed painfully in his jeans, and all he could think about was how easy it would be to just take her face in his hands an—
“Doll…” His voice was almost a growl now.
She crawled to the edge of the bed, her eyes wide and pleading. “Please kiss me,” she whined softly, voice breathy and sweet. “Like you did before...”
He froze.
She’s begging. Begging for him to kiss her. Like before, before he started holding himself back. Before he started second-guessing everything.
And then she reached for the zipper of his hoodie— his hoodie —and slowly began to drag it down.
The zipper’s soft rasp cut through the air like a spark on dry kindling. The fabric parted, baring more of her skin— that soft, tempting expanse of her chest and stomach wrapped in silk and lace.
That’s when he snapped.
“Fuck...”
Katsuki was on her before he could think—one hand cupping her face, the other gripping her waist as he crashed his mouth against hers. The kiss was fierce, all the pent-up frustration and hunger pouring out of him in one desperate, searing movement.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and he groaned low in his throat as he pressed her back into the bed. His tongue slid against hers, deep and demanding, and she melted beneath him like she’d been waiting for this just as badly.
“Missed this,” she gasped between kisses, her voice breathy and sweet.
“Me too,” he muttered against her lips, barely able to breathe, “so fucking much.”
Katsuki barely managed to tear his mouth away from hers, breath ragged and heavy as he hovered over her. His fingers flexed against her waist, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to pull her closer or give himself some space before he lost all control. His forehead dropped against hers, and he swallowed hard, trying to steady his breathing.
“Hold on,” he rasped, voice low and rough.
He pushed himself back, standing at the edge of the bed. His fingers moved fast, dragging his boots off with sharp, impatient tugs before yanking his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. His gaze locked on her the entire time—that warm blush still coloring her cheeks, her lips swollen from his kisses.
“Take it off,” Katsuki said, voice dark and firm.
Rosie blinked up at him. “What?”
“The hoodie.” His eyes narrowed slightly, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “Take it off—and sit on the bed for me. Legs spread.”
Her face turned even redder, but she didn’t hesitate. With slow, deliberate movements, she reached for the zipper of his hoodie once again. The soft zzzip filled the air as she dragged it the rest of the way down, then let the fabric slide off her shoulders. It pooled around her on the bed like a forgotten second skin.
Now she sat before him, bare save for the delicate orange silk and lace that hugged her curves perfectly. The soft lace framed her chest, thin straps tracing her shoulders, while the matching underwear sat high on her hips, the intricate fabric barely concealing anything.
Rosie shifted slightly, nervous yet obedient, sliding her legs apart. Her thighs trembled as she settled in place, and her hands fidgeted with the sheets beneath her. “Like this?” she asked quietly.
Katsuki didn’t answer right away— couldn’t .
His eyes dragged over her, drinking in every detail. The soft curve of her waist, the delicate lace stretched across her skin, the flush that painted her chest and face like she was lit from within.
He felt something deep in his chest clench tight.
He thought he'd known what it meant to love her— but this? This was something else entirely. Something that tangled itself around his ribs and refused to let go. It hurt— like he’d never be able to breathe without her.
I couldn’t love her more if I tried, he thought. It’s impossible.
His hands trembled at his sides. She is everything — everything he never thought he could have, never thought he deserved —and yet here she was. Beautiful and trusting , laid out before him like she belonged to him.
“Fuck,” Katsuki muttered under his breath, voice tight. He dragged a hand down his face, trying to keep from drowning in it all.
“What?” Rosie asked, her voice softer now, unsure.
Katsuki shook his head, stepping closer to her. “Nothin’,” he said roughly, his gaze locking with hers. “Just... you’re perfect.”
Her face grew darker at the soft praise, her lips parting slightly as she stared at him from beneath full lashes. Even now, she was still so shy—still unsure of herself sometimes. Like she didn’t realize just how much power she had over him, how much she’d completely wrecked him without even trying.
He stepped forward and knelt on the bed between her spread thighs, his warm hands sliding over her bare knees and up the soft skin of her legs. Her breath hitched, her fingers curling against the bedspread as if anchoring herself. His eyes flicked up to meet hers, searching. She was nervous, but not hesitant—no, she wanted this. Wanted him. Just as badly as he wanted her.
“C’mere,” he murmured, his hand sliding around the back of her neck as he guided her closer. Her body followed easily, like she was made to fit against him. Their lips met, slow and deliberate at first, but then she whimpered softly against his mouth — that breathy, pleading sound that went straight to his chest and lower, tightening his muscles and making his pulse hammer in his ears.
His fingers flexed against her waist as he kissed her deeper, teeth tugging at her bottom lip until she gasped, her arms winding around his shoulders. She clung to him like he was her lifeline, like she was afraid he might disappear if she let go. He slid one hand down her back and pressed her closer, feeling the soft warmth of her body settle against his.
“Let me make up for the last two weeks,” Katsuki rasped against her lips, his breath warm on her skin. His fingers dug gently into her waist as if anchoring himself. “I’ve been a damn idiot…”
“We have all night,” she whispered, her voice shaky and soft. “Akira won’t be back until morning.”
“I’ve only got a couple of hours,” he murmured. “I’ve got a meeting with Hawks, but I’ll be able to pick you up after.”
She nodded quickly, her hands sliding up the back of his neck, fingers threading into his hair. “Please…” Her voice trembled slightly, and she blinked up at him with those bright blue eyes that always made him weak. “Please let me make you feel good then.”
His chest tightened. “Doll…”
“Please,” she said again, her voice softer this time—more vulnerable. “Let me.”
The way she looked at him—like he was someone worth loving, someone worth her time— it undid him more than he liked to admit. He swallowed hard, brushing his thumb over her cheek.
“You don’t have to do anything for me,” he muttered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Just being with you… that’s enough. ”
“I want to,” she insisted, her fingers tightening in his hair. “I want to take care of you… the way you take care of me.”
His throat felt tight, like there was something too big and heavy to say out loud. He couldn’t put it into words— how much she meant to him, how much she’d quietly become the best part of his life. So instead, he kissed her again—slower this time, lingering like he could pour everything he felt into the way their lips moved together.
“You’re too good to me,” he muttered against her lips.
“You deserve it,” she whispered back as she pushed him back onto the bed, her eyes staring into his as her hands reached for his belt. “God, Katsuki, you’re so attentive to my needs and wants, always so generous and patient with me.”
Katsuki watched as she spoke, unzipping and tugging on his jeans as she never once broke eye contact with him. “You’re the perfect boyfriend. Why wouldn’t I want to ensure that your every need and want is fulfilled?”
Rosie was many things, one of them being that she had heard countless stories from Akira on how to give a proper blowjob. Now it was time for her to finally use that information and put it into practice.
Holy shit.
She swallowed thickly.
She always knew that Katsuki was big, she had felt it pressed up against her, had grinded on it and came on it. But to actually see it made her insides burn and her face grow hot.
It stared at her, red, hot, twitching with pre cum already dripping from the tip.
Looking from his cock to him, she flushed, “that will never fit in me.”
He barked out a laugh, “doll, it can and it will. Trust me on that.”
Nodding, she grasped it watching as Katsuki hissed. “Am I hurting you?”
He shook his head, “no doll, not at all.”
She knew Katsuki would be big because she felt it against her, grinded on it, and came on it through clothing. However, seeing it made her blood hot and her thighs clench together to alleviate the ache between them. It looked at her, crimson, twitching, and hot, with precum already trickling from the tip. Rosie knelt between his knees and licked at the cum that glistened on the top. She felt him tremble, so she did it again. The cum was hot, a touch salty, and thick on her tongue, but she swallowed a small amount before continuing to lick his tip. She sucked his cock's full flared head into her mouth, humming as she felt it twitch again.
She peered up at him, to see him staring at her, eyes blown wide as his mouth was agape. His fangs peeked out from his lips, all white and sharp, sweat lining his forehead. Withdrawing from his cock, she traced the large vein with her tongue only to watch him swear under his breath. His hand grasped a handful of her hair to give him a better view of her lapping at his cock, so prettily and eagerly.
Sneaking another peek at him, Rosie felt shy as she took his twitching cock into her mouth, doing her best to swallow as much as she could before it hit the back of her throat. She felt tears leaking out of her eyes as she bobbed her head up and down and flattened her tongue to stroke his length. She already felt tension in her jaw and saliva dripped down her chin but it was worth the discomfort as she stared up at Katsuki, watching him panting, soft groans and mumbled praises leaving his lips as though he were drunk on pleasure.
Is this how he felt when she came on his fingers?
The thought spurred her on as she eagerly, greedily sucked him.
Katsuki swallowed thickly, watching Rosie through half lidded eyes. He had struggled to keep himself from cumming when she first touched his cock. But feeling how hot and small her mouth was, how he filled her mouth and hit the back of her throat was another level of difficulty for him.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.” He groaned, fisting her hair harder, wrapping it around his hand. “So fucking… fuck!...perfect.”
He gazed down at the way her cheeks were flushed, her eyes wide as tears formed at the corners. Lines of drool dripping down her chin. She was a mess and perfection at the same time. Large doe eyes stared at him, the blue in her eyes swimming with wanton need and pleasure as she had looked up at him through her wet lashes, with her mouth full of his cock and her nose almost pressed against the base as she forced herself to attempt to take all of him.
Her hands messaged the parts of him that couldn’t fit in her mouth. He watched her slowly withdraw from him, swallowing air as she stared at him. “It’s okay Katsuki,” she panted, chest heaving.
“What is doll?”
“Akira told me that guys like to fuck a girl’s mouth,” she flushed a vermillion red this time. “You can do that to me,” Rosie licked her lips.
He swallowed, groaning, his cock twitching.
“Tap me when it’s too much,” he grasped her face, kissing her lips. “I don’t wanna hurt you. Promise to tap if it’s too much alright?”
“I promise,” she hummed.
He waited for her to place that pretty mouth of hers back around his cock, grabbing both sides of her face. Once she nodded for him, he thrusted into her mouth with a brutish pace, unrelenting as he fucked her mouth. She began to hum and moan, the vibrations on his cock feeling more than just amazing.
It wasn't until he glanced down at her, her pretty eyes stared up at them and he moved to pull out as he felt on the edge of pleasure only for her to shake her head no did he spill into her mouth.
“Fuck…Rosie…” he panted, lazily pulling out of her mouth. “Lemme see, pretty girl.”
Grasping her face with one hand, she eagerly and obediently opened her mouth for him. Cum filled her mouth, the hot sticky white substance painted her throat, teeth, and her tongue so beautifully.
Before he could tell her to spit it out, he watched her close her mouth and swallow it. Slowly blinking up at him, and he sat there, dumbstruck as her chest heaved.
He took in her flushed face, makeup smeared, lips swollen, and sweat sheened skin as she sat on the bed, between his legs. So prettily and so obedient for him.
“Fuck, babydoll…such a good girl for me.” He peppered kisses all over her face, feeling her squirm and whimper at the affection. “You did so well, so good for me.”
Katsuki couldn’t stop touching her. His fingers traced along her back, up her arm, down her side, anywhere he could reach. He kissed her hair, her forehead, her cheeks— soft, lingering kisses that said everything his words couldn’t.
“You’re so good for me,” he whispered again, voice low and thick with emotion. “So perfect... my pretty girl. ” His fingers brushed her jaw, tilting her face up so he could kiss her again, slow and tender. “You’re my everything, y’know that?”
Rosie blinked up at him, cheeks still flushed, lips still swollen. She was so pretty like this— soft and sleepy and completely his. His chest ached, and he knew he was losing the fight to keep it all in.
“You’re amazing,” he said, voice breaking. “You always take care of me… always know what I need—even when I’m too much of a dumbass to say it.” He kissed her again, lingering and warm. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, thumb stroking her cheek.
Rosie let out a soft sound, shifting even closer. Her arms wrapped tighter around his neck, and Katsuki felt her press her face into his shoulder like she couldn’t get close enough.
“God, look at you…” His voice was barely a whisper now, like the words were slipping out before he could stop them. “So fuckin’ beautiful.” He kissed her again—her cheek, her jaw, the corner of her mouth. “So smart… so strong… you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know that?”
Her breath hitched, and she tried to hide her face again, but Katsuki wouldn’t let her. He cradled her jaw in his hand, making her look at him. “No hiding,” he said softly. “Let me see you.”
Her eyes shone, wide and blue, and he thought his heart might just break from how much he loved her.
“I mean it,” he said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He swallowed hard, brushing his thumb along her bottom lip. “I don’t think I’d ever be okay again.”
Rosie blinked back at him, her lips parting like she was about to say something, but no words came out. Instead, she leaned up and kissed him— slow, tender, and just as desperate as he felt.
“See?” Katsuki murmured against her lips. “So perfect… so fuckin’ perfect.” He kissed her again, pulling her close like she was the only thing keeping him breathing. “My pretty girl… my good girl…”
He didn’t know how long they stayed like that—tangled together, kissing and whispering between breaths.
Reaching for her, she shifted away from him, shaking her head. “No, I already came from…” she trailed off and Katsuki smirked.
So she orgasmed just from having his cock in her mouth?
He preened at that. “Let’s go shower then.”
“Okay.”
Katsuki guided her to the bathroom, his hand firm yet gentle on the small of her back. The air was still thick with warmth, their breaths slowing but their hearts beating in sync. Rosie’s steps were a little unsteady, her body still feeling the effects of earlier. Without a word, Katsuki reached past her to turn on the shower, testing the water until it was just right.
“C’mon,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual.
Rosie stood still, blinking up at him, her face still flushed. “I can—”
“I’ve got you,” he cut her off gently. She let him undress her, her eyes never leaving his. He reached for her delicate lingerie set, fingers ghosting over her skin as he unhooked the clasp and slid the silky fabric from her shoulders. He took his time, like he was unwrapping something precious— because to him, she was.
“You’re beautiful,” he breathed, and the way her face went pink again made his chest ache.
He stepped into the shower, reaching for her hand to guide her in with him. The warm water cascaded down, washing away the sweat and tension. Katsuki reached for the shampoo, squeezing some into his palm before motioning for her to turn around.
“You don’t have to,” she started, but he was already massaging her scalp with gentle fingers.
“Let me,” he said firmly, working through her hair in slow circles. “You’ve been through too much, Babydoll… just let me take care of you.”
Rosie closed her eyes, leaning into his touch with a soft sigh. He kept going, drawing lazy patterns along her scalp, thumbs tracing behind her ears, fingers threading carefully through her strands like she might break if he wasn’t gentle enough. When he was sure she was relaxed, he guided her under the water, watching the suds rinse away.
“Good girl,” he whispered, and she made a soft sound in response. He reached for her body wash next, working it over her shoulders and down her arms, pressing warm kisses to her damp skin as he went. His fingers traced along her spine, massaging knots of tension from her back. Every touch was slow and deliberate, his way of telling her everything he couldn’t put into words.
I love you. I love you so much it’s suffocating.
“Perfect,” he murmured, almost to himself, trailing his fingers down her side. “So soft… so beautiful... My Babydoll.”
When she turned to face him again, her eyes were glassy with emotion. “Katsuki…”
“I know,” he rasped, thumb brushing her bottom lip. “I know.”
He kissed her then, soft and lingering, like he was memorizing the shape of her mouth. Rosie wrapped her arms around his waist, clinging to him like he was her anchor. He held her just as tightly, resting his forehead against hers.
“You’re everything,” he muttered against her skin. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You don’t have to,” she whispered back. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He kissed her again—because he didn’t know how else to say I love you , because he didn’t trust himself to say it out loud. Not yet. But as they stood together under the warm spray, his arms locked securely around her, he hoped she already knew.
Already knew that what he felt for her is unshakable.
The steam still clung to the air as Katsuki shut off the water, his hand lingering on the faucet for a moment before turning to Rosie. Her skin glistened, droplets of water tracing down her collarbone and along her arms. She looked soft— calm in a way he didn’t see often enough as of late.
“C’mere,” he murmured, grabbing a fresh towel from the rack.
Rosie stepped closer, her gaze warm and trusting as she let him wrap her up. Katsuki worked carefully, blotting away the water with gentle hands. He dried her hair next, threading his fingers through the damp strands and squeezing out what he could. She hummed softly under his touch, leaning into his palm like a kitten soaking up affection.
Once she was dry, he turned to grab one of his shirts from the drawer— one of his softer ones, the old black one that hung loose and cozy on her. Pulling it over her head, he helped her thread her arms through the sleeves before smoothing the fabric down her waist. The hem reached just past her upper thighs, and something about seeing her small frame swallowed up in his clothes made his heart squeeze painfully in his chest.
“You okay?” Rosie asked, her voice soft and sweet.
“Yeah,” Katsuki muttered, pulling on a pair of sweats and one of his own shirts. “Just tired.”
It wasn’t a lie—but it wasn’t the whole truth either.
Grabbing her hand, he led her to the bed. As soon as he sat down, Rosie climbed onto the mattress after him, curling into his side before he could even lie back. Smirking softly, he shifted so he was lying flat, pulling her on top of him. She settled with her head resting just over his heart, her fingers curling loosely in the fabric of his shirt.
“Mm… warm…” she murmured sleepily.
His arm looped tightly around her waist, his other hand slipping into her hair. He dragged his fingers through the still-damp strands, over and over, slow and steady. Rosie let out a content sigh, her body growing heavier as her breathing evened out.
Katsuki lay there quietly, staring at the ceiling. He could feel her heartbeat against his ribs, steady and soft, and for a moment, nothing else existed. Just her. Just this.
I love you.
The thought crashed into him, a wave so strong it left him breathless. He loved her so painfully— so beautifully —so completely that it terrified him. She is everything. His warmth, his calm, his reason to keep fighting, keep going. She made him want to be better, to be worthy of her.
His fingers drifted lower, tracing along her spine beneath the fabric of his shirt. She shifted, pressing her face closer to his chest, her breath fanning across his skin.
I can’t lose you.
The thought was suffocating. He felt like if he held her too tightly, she’d break—but if he let go, she might slip away. And he couldn’t let that happen. He’d rip apart the whole damn world before he let anyone take her from him.
“I love you,” he whispered, barely louder than a breath. He knew she was asleep— couldn’t hear him —but it didn’t matter. “I love you so much, Babydoll…” His fingers slid back into her hair, tightening just slightly. “More than anything… more than myself.”
She let out a soft sigh in her sleep, nuzzling deeper into his chest. Katsuki closed his eyes, pressing his lips against the crown of her head.
She’s mine.
The night air was crisp, leaves swirling along the cobblestone path that led to Monoma's sprawling mansion. The place was already buzzing with energy—music thumped from within, and faint flashes of colored lights flickered through the tall windows.
Rosie adjusted the sword at her side, fingers running over the cool leather of her belt as she glanced down at her sleek black armor. The dragon-scale crimson-black scales gleamed faintly under the streetlights, the skintight material hugging her curves like a second skin. Each dagger she carried was strategically placed— across her back, thighs, and torso —giving her a lethal badass look. Her heeled boots clicked against the stones, and her hair, braided into a crown atop her head, framed the delicate points of the fake elf ears she wore.
“You look so cool,” Akira grinned beside her, looping her arm through Rosie’s.
She was a striking contrast—while Rosie’s armor was dark and commanding, Akira seemed ethereal, her silken gown barely clinging to her figure. The fabric shimmered with each step, flowing like water, and her delicate elf ears only added to the otherworldly beauty she carried. Her hair had been pinned up loosely, with strands curling down to frame her face.
“I look like I’m about to kill someone,” Rosie said with a dry smile, adjusting one of the daggers at her waist.
“And I look like I’m about to seduce someone,” Akira teased, winking. “Balance.”
They reached the towering gates of Monoma’s mansion, where orange lanterns flickered and a carved pumpkin with a smug grin rested by the entrance. A doorman dressed like a skeletal butler greeted them with an exaggerated bow, pulling open the gate to let them in.
“Where are we meeting everyone again?” Rosie asked, adjusting the hem of her dress.
“Mina said they’re all outside in the backyard so we can get group photos,” Akira grinned, smoothing her hair as they maneuvered through the crowded party.
The house was packed wall to wall with people, music thumping through the floors as partygoers swayed and danced in rhythm. Akira, being the assertive one between them, led the way, boldly weaving through the crowd without hesitation. Rosie followed close behind, clutching Akira’s hand like a lifeline until they finally reached the sliding doors that led outside.
The backyard was just as lively as inside—maybe even more so. String lights crisscrossed above, casting a warm golden glow over the sea of costumed guests. Laughter filled the air, along with the scent of grilled food and spilled drinks.
“There they are!” Akira tugged her forward, and soon enough, they reached a tucked-away corner that had been decorated with a backdrop of deep velvet fabric, faux vines, and shimmering fairy lights—clearly intended for photos.
Rosie’s breath caught when she saw their friends gathered there, all dressed in fantastical attire.
Mina was striking in her acid-dragon costume, glowing scales shimmering against her pink skin. Kirishima stood beside her as a rock-scaled dragon, looking equally impressive. Jirou and Kaminari had embraced the bard aesthetic, Jirou with her leather tunic and lute strapped to her back, while Kaminari grinned in a ridiculous feathered hat. Momo looked regal as an enchantress in flowing robes, and Shoto’s princely attire suited him perfectly with sharp lines and dark reds that made him look more intimidating than charming. Uraraka stood with Izuku, dressed as a ranger and magic caster respectively, both fitting their roles with endearing sincerity.
Rosie smiled, full teeth and bright eyes, taking in how amazing everyone looked.
But… where was Katsuki?
She scanned the crowd again, her heart sinking just a little. Before she could dwell on it, Shoji, Sero, Tsuyu, and even Mineta joined them, each donning their own themed outfits. Tokoyami stood a little apart from the group, cloaked in shadow as an assassin spy.
“Now that everyone’s here, let’s get photos!” Mina clapped her hands, her excitement contagious as they all started shifting into poses.
Where is he?
Rosie’s skin prickled, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. A familiar heat curled at her senses, something that always seemed to follow Katsuki. She turned—and her breath caught in her throat.
Oh... fuck.
There he was.
Katsuki stood by the edge of the patio, the dim lighting somehow making him look even more dangerous. He was dressed in a sleeveless black compression shirt that clung to every muscle, showing off the sharp cut of his arms and broad shoulders. His black baggy pants were tucked into laced boots, and the twin swords strapped across his back gleamed ominously. But it was the crimson-black horns curling up from his head—half-buried in his hair—that struck her the most.
Scales were painted beneath his eyes, fading down his neck in a pattern that mimicked dragon hide, and his sharp canines gleamed like fangs when he smirked. His eyes—God, his eyes—burned with a faint crimson glow.
Rosie froze, memories washing over her like ice water.
Through the haze of heat and exhaustion, she saw a figure emerge from the flames.
Katsuki.
He walked out of the burning building as though it were nothing, his eyes glowing an eerie red. There was a dangerous smirk on his face, and the sharp tips of his fangs protruded over his lip, giving him a primal, almost predatory look. But it was the large red horn that jutted from his head that sent a jolt of shock through Rosie.
It wasn’t there before.
His shirt was gone, completely burned away, revealing the rippling muscles of his chest. His pants were singed and torn, but what caught her attention were the tattoos that covered the left side of his body. Black, intricate tribal markings ran down from his chest, curling around his arm and disappearing under the waistband of his pants. The designs looked familiar, but her foggy mind couldn’t place where she’d seen them before.
“Kats...” Rosie slurred, her hand reaching out weakly, yearning to touch him, to confirm he was real. Her vision swam, and everything around her felt surreal. She had so many questions—about the horn, the tattoos, the glow in his eyes—but the poison was dragging her down, pulling her toward unconsciousness.
Katsuki’s glowing red eyes flickered to her, and for a brief moment, the cocky smirk softened into something almost tender. He took a step forward, but before he could reach her, her body gave out. Her arm fell limply to her side, her eyes closing as she surrendered to the darkness, the last thing she saw was his fiery figure against the backdrop of the burning orphanage.
His voice echoed faintly in her mind, the familiar growl soothing her even as consciousness slipped away. "I’ve got you."
Blinking again, the image blurred and slipped away. She frowned, what was that? She looked to Katsuki to see him staring at her, a similar look of confusion swirling in his now glowing eyes.
“Wha–”
“Come on!” Mina’s voice cut through the moment, and before Rosie could protest, her friend grabbed her wrist and dragged her to the photo corner.
Katsuki followed, stopping at her side just as Mina ushered everyone into place. Rosie glanced up at him—still wide-eyed and shaken—but Katsuki’s gaze never wavered. He stared down at her, jaw tight, as though trying to piece something together himself. She swallowed, the sharp jaw, the intensity in his glowing eyes, and the heat that rolled off of him.
All so familiar like a distant dream, like a memory of long ago that made her feel as though she knew him a lot longer than just three months.
“Smile everyone!” Mina cheered.
The camera clicked, and Rosie barely managed to plaster a smile on her face. Her heart was still racing.
After a few more photos— some silly, some serious —the group started breaking away to mingle again. Rosie turned quickly, reaching out to grab Katsuki’s wrist.
“Hey…” she started, her voice barely above a whisper. “Did you…?”
“Rosie!” Akira’s voice called from across the yard. “C’mon, girl, we gotta get a drink!”
“Bakugo!” Kirishima’s voice followed right after, “We need you for beer pong, bro!”
Rosie’s fingers barely grazed his before they were both yanked away in opposite directions.
“Wait!” Rosie called out, twisting to see Katsuki looking back at her—frustrated and tense—before Kirishima practically shoved him toward the beer pong table.
Later , Katsuki’s eyes seemed to promise her.
Rosie could only nod before Akira pulled her away, the distant heat of Katsuki’s gaze still lingering on her skin.
“Hello, ladies,” Monoma’s voice drawled with a cocky lilt, his signature smirk plastered across his face as he sauntered over with a drink in hand.
Rosie glanced up from where she was pouring her drink and couldn’t help but smile. He was dressed in sleek all-black attire—fitted turtleneck, leather gloves, and a dark trench coat that practically screamed spy. His hair was combed back, sharp and neat, and he looked like he belonged in some high-stakes heist movie.
“Oh no…” Rosie murmured under her breath, biting back a grin.
“What?” Akira asked, eyebrow raised just as Monoma sidled closer.
“Hey there,” Monoma’s eyes flicked between them before landing on Rosie with a smug grin. “I couldn’t help but notice you over here, looking all mysterious and… enchanting .” He leaned against the counter, his attempt at a suave pose. “What’s a lovely sorceress like you doing all alone in the kitchen?”
“I’m not a sorceress,” Rosie snorted, unable to keep a straight face. “But I’m making a drink,” she deadpanned, swirling her cup.
“Ah,” Monoma chuckled, taking a sip from his own glass. “A woman of taste. Can I—”
“This is Akira,” Rosie interrupted, her smile widening. “My best friend from America has come to visit me.”
Monoma blinked, his attention flicking to Akira—and suddenly, the cocky smile faltered. For once, Monoma looked… interested .
“Oh,” he said, straightening just a little. “ Oh .”
Akira raised an eyebrow, lips curving in amusement. “You okay there, Bond ?” she teased, motioning to his spy outfit.
Monoma recovered quickly, that smug grin snapping back into place. “I’m better than okay now,” he said smoothly, stepping closer. “I didn’t realize I was in the presence of someone so… captivating .”
“Oh God,” Rosie muttered under her breath, finishing her drink.
But to her surprise, Akira didn’t shut him down. Instead, she smiled — that slow, knowing smile Rosie knew meant I’m interested .
“You’re laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?” Akira challenged, but there was a playful note in her voice.
Monoma’s grin widened. “What can I say? I recognize perfection when I see it.”
Rosie tried to focus on her drink, but she couldn’t help sneaking a glance as the two of them continued their back-and-forth. Monoma’s confidence never faltered, and Akira— sharp, sarcastic Akira —actually laughed . Like, genuinely laughed.
By the time Rosie had finished stirring her drink, she turned to see Monoma handing his phone to Akira, and she was putting her number in without hesitation.
“Wow,” Rosie muttered under her breath. “I can’t believe you’re encouraging him.”
Akira grinned as she handed Monoma’s phone back. “He’s hot,” she said simply, taking a sip of her drink.
“You hate blondes,” Rosie reminded her.
Akira shrugged, flashing her a mischievous smile. “He might change my mind.”
Rosie shook her head with a laugh. “Well, this is gonna be interesting.”
“Let’s go dance.” Akira pulled her towards the large living room where the makeshift dance floor was.
That moment had been perfect—Rosie, Akira, and the rest of the girls dancing like they didn’t have a care in the world. The music thumped in her chest, and her head swam pleasantly from the drinks they’d been sipping all night. It felt like freedom—like everything was good.
Until it wasn’t.
The sudden shove hit Rosie hard enough that her drink splashed from her hand, the cold liquid soaking into her dress and splattering across the floor. She stumbled but caught herself, heart pounding as she turned to see who’d pushed her.
Of course.
It was her . The girl Katsuki used to fuck around with. Rosie had never bothered to learn her name— didn’t care to —so in her mind, she’d dubbed her The Grinch. It fit her perfectly— bitter, nasty, and seemingly always lurking when Rosie least wanted to see her.
“What’s your deal?” Rosie asked, trying to keep her voice calm despite the irritation bubbling beneath her skin.
The Grinch sneered, her sharp red-painted lips curling wickedly. “ My deal?” she spat, stepping closer. “How dare you show up here with him?” Her short black curls bounced as she jabbed a manicured finger into Rosie’s chest.
Rosie stiffened. “Look, frankly, you need to leave both of us alone,” she said firmly, stepping back. “And get your hand off me.”
But before Rosie could move, sharp nails latched onto her face. The Grinch’s hand grabbed her by the jaw, fingers digging painfully into her cheeks. The sting of her nails biting into her skin made Rosie wince.
“You think you’re so special?” The Grinch hissed, her face twisted in rage. “Like you’re better than me just because he’s with you now? I can’t believe he dumped me for some pathetic American virgin!”
Rosie gasped as The Grinch’s nails dug deeper, sharp points scratching down her skin. It burned, and tears prickled in her eyes.
“Let go,” Rosie muttered, her voice tight.
The Grinch ignored her, eyes wild with spite. “God, you’re so pathetic. How could someone like him ever want to be with a weak, stupid, little girl like you ?”
The moment she said it, she released Rosie with a shove that sent her stumbling back a step. Her cheek throbbed, the sharp sting still radiating from where those nails had dragged across her skin.
The Grinch’s smirk widened. “What?” she sneered. “Too scared to hit me back?” She laughed, cold and sharp. “Your friends can’t do anything eithe—they’re all Pro Heroes. They can’t lay a hand on me.”
“You’re right,” Akira’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.
Rosie turned to see her best friend stepping forward, a smile that was far too sweet curling on Akira’s lips.
“Rosie’s too much of a saint to hit you,” Akira said coolly. “And yeah, the others can’t retaliate since they’re Pro Heroes…” Her smile sharpened. “ But I’m no saint. And I’m no Pro Hero.” The grin she shot The Grinch was downright wicked. “ Which means I can and will kick your ass. ”
Before Rosie could even process what was happening, Akira lunged. Her fist connected with The Grinch’s face, snapping her head to the side with a sickening crack. The crowd roared—laughter, cheers, and shouts echoing through the room as people swarmed to watch the chaos unfold.
The Grinch stumbled back, her eyes wide with disbelief before rage twisted her features again. “You bitch !” she shrieked, lunging at Akira.
It wasn’t a fight. It was a beatdown.
Akira tore into her like a whirlwind, fists flying, hair wild, her face set in pure determination. The Grinch tried to claw back, but Akira was relentless— landing punch after punch, dodging swipes like she’d been born to fight. People whooped and hollered, drunkenly placing bets as the chaos spiraled.
Rosie should have stopped it—should have stepped in and tried to calm things down—but she didn’t. The Grinch had been wrong about one thing. Rosie wasn’t a saint.
She stood back and watched, a sick sense of satisfaction curling in her chest as Akira wiped the floor with her. That smug smile was long gone, replaced with panic as The Grinch realized she was completely outmatched.
It wasn’t until Rosie heard the distant wail of sirens that she snapped out of it.
“COPS ARE HERE!” someone yelled. “RUN!”
Rosie blinked, her mind clearing in a rush. “Akira!” she called, grabbing her friend’s arm. “Come on, we have to go!”
The two of them bolted for the back door, weaving through panicked partiers as everyone scrambled for an exit. Rosie barely registered Katsuki’s voice calling her name as she ran past him and the guys, their confused faces barely registering in her mind.
They climbed the fence, breathless and wild, feet hitting the pavement as they kept running. The adrenaline buzzed in her veins—the rush of it familiar, like stepping back into a memory. It felt like they were kids again— Akira defending her, standing up to her bullies, and the two of them sprinting away from furious teachers or scolding citizens.
They didn’t stop running until they hit the main street, several blocks from Monoma’s house.
“We should get tacos,” Akira panted, hands on her knees but grinning like she hadn’t just been in a full-blown fistfight.
Rosie barked out a breathless laugh, still gasping for air. “Tacos sound perfect.”
A loud honk made them turn, and Rosie grinned as Mina’s car slowed beside them. The windows rolled down, revealing Mina’s excited grin with several of the girls packed inside.
“Get in!” Mina called out. “We’re all heading back to my place to finish the party!”
“I want tacos!” Akira declared.
“Tacos sound amazing right now,” Jirou chimed in from the backseat.
“Momo, start putting in an order!” Mina grinned. “Get everything— everyone can send money after. ”
Rosie climbed into the backseat with Akira, sinking into the warmth of her friends. She glanced to her side, watching Akira laughing and chatting like nothing had happened.
Rosie smiled softly. Whatever chaos they faced, whatever mess they got into— Akira had always been there. Just like tonight.
God, it felt so good to be with them.
They were every bit of the stories her Dad had told her over the years. Wild, unapologetic, and honest.
Notes:
Okay, so I struggled to write the blowjob scene because I was doing it from both of their perspectives as I have never written a blow job scene this descriptive before, in my other stories I always glazed over it because I'm bad at it so please give me some grace with this one.
On an additional note, holy hell this chapter was so long I had to break it into two chapters as this one is almost 8k words as the smut along was over 4k but anyway...I hope you guys loved it and the memory of this chapter is chapter 26 of The Pretty Elf and the Rogue Dragon Prince<3
Am I forgetting anything else?
Uhhhh, oh yeah! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and I really appreciate you guys reading everyday, dropping the kudos and overall being so kind and encouraging, but also loving this story as much as I do:)
Chapter 73: You’re the ‘naps with his cat and yells at teenagers’ kind of cool
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
By the time Rosie, Akira, and the rest of the girls arrived at Mina and Kirishima’s house, the place had been transformed. What had started as a regular house party now looked like something out of a haunted mansion. Thick fog crawled across the floor, rolling in lazy waves from two fog machines that, according to Sero, had been swiped straight from Monoma’s house. The faint scent of dry ice mixed with the sharp tang of alcohol in the air, and decorations hung from every corner—fake cobwebs clung to the ceiling, jack-o'-lantern string lights flickered across the walls, and crimson lighting cast an eerie glow over everything.
While the girls had been getting tacos, the guys had been hard at work—Shoji had managed to smuggle in as much alcohol as he could carry, and the rest of the guys had rearranged furniture to clear space for dancing.
The second the girls stepped inside with several bulging bags of tacos, everyone flocked to the kitchen. They dumped the food across the table and counters, the scent of spicy meat and warm tortillas filling the air.
“What the hell happened to you two?” Sero asked, his voice sharp with concern as he eyed Rosie and Akira.
“Woah, Rosie,” Shoto blinked, stepping closer. “Your face looks messed up.” His hand began to glow faintly with ice. “Would you like me to—?”
Rosie nodded, “yes please, I can heal it after.”
“Shit, look at Akira,” Kaminari cut in, wide-eyed. “You look like you went ten rounds with a villain.”
Akira, still riding the high of the fight, shot him a crooked grin. “I won, though.”
“One minute we’re outside playing drinking games,” Mineta chimed in, “and the next, cops show up and everyone’s sprinting like headless chickens! What even happened?”
Jirou smirked, grabbing a bottle of liquor from the counter. “Akira happened. She’s a total badass.”
Rosie turned her attention to making herself a drink, tuning out the chaotic retelling as the girls eagerly filled in the guys on what went down. The memory of The Grinch’s claws scraping down her face lingered, but the sting was dulled now—half from adrenaline, half from the warmth buzzing beneath her skin.
Everyone gravitated toward the bags of tacos, tearing into them like starved wolves. Kirishima tossed a taco to Kaminari across the kitchen, while Mina took it upon herself to organize the chaos—shouting orders about nachos here, salsa there, and who needed to Venmo her later. Someone started pouring shots, and suddenly the kitchen was a whirlwind of laughter, teasing, and the rustling of taco wrappers.
Eventually, the crowd drifted into the living room, drawn by the music already starting to pulse through the speakers. The furniture had been pushed back to clear a makeshift dance floor, and in true party fashion, people were already moving in time with the beat.
More people began to trickle in—Monoma, Tetsutetsu, Kendo, and a handful of students from Shiketsu, all dressed in their own Halloween costumes.
Rosie stood near the wall with a drink in hand, watching the room fill with energy. It wasn’t long before her gaze landed on Shoto—still in his prince costume, his silver hair catching the light.
What caught her attention even more was Camie, draped in a pastel pink Powerpuff Girl costume, her blonde hair tied up in voluminous pigtails. She’d sauntered up to Shoto, one hand lazily curling in her hair as she leaned in, her voice loud enough to carry over the music.
“Ohhh my god, you’re so handsome,” Camie drawled, her voice sugary sweet. “Like, seriously, dude, you’re giving me major prince charming vibes.” She giggled, dragging a finger down the sleeve of his costume.
Rosie almost laughed at the bewildered look on Shoto’s face—wide eyes flicking between Camie and the nearest exit like he was mentally calculating the best escape route.
From across the room, Momo stood stiffly, her lips pressed into a thin line. She watched the scene unfold with an expression that teetered between horrified and deeply annoyed, but she didn’t say a word.
Rosie decided to swoop in and save the day for Shoto like he did for her.
Grinning to herself, she strolled up to Shoto, resting her elbow on his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Oh, Camie, you’ve got great taste,” Rosie purred, giving Shoto an exaggerated smile. “I mean, who wouldn’t have a crush on this guy?” She gave his arm a playful squeeze.
“Oh my god, right?” Camie gasped, turning her wide eyes back to Rosie. “Like, wow, are you guys like totes dating?”
Rosie hummed innocently, barely suppressing her grin. “Well, you never know...”
Camie’s eyes sparkled with glee, clearly eating up the drama. “That suuucks,” she whined, flouncing her hair dramatically. “If you guys are a thing, I mean. ‘Cause like… he’s so hot. Like, wow. He’s got that whole ‘I’m quiet but I could probably break your spine’ vibe—love that.”
Shoto made a sound that was somewhere between a cough and a strangled laugh, his face now slightly pink.
“Anyway!” Camie giggled, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “If you guys aren’t too serious or whatever, let me know.” She winked at Shoto before sauntering away, leaving behind a faint trail of candy-scented perfume.
Rosie turned to Shoto with a teasing grin. “Y’know, if you’re ever looking for someone to inflate your ego, I think you’ve got a fan.”
Shoto let out a slow breath, like he’d just barely survived a dangerous encounter. “Thank you”
She giggled, before leaning into to whisper into his ear. “Just returning the favor.”
He patted her head, affection in his eyes. “You’re my best friend for that.”
She giggled, “I’ll take the title.” Then she winked, “as your best friend, I think you should go see your girlfriend before she bursts into tears from Camie flirting with you.”
They both glanced at him, only to see Momo, tipsy as she clutched her cup staring after Camie.
“Will do,” he patted her head again before leaving to go talk to Momo, grabbing her wrist and yanking her into the darkened hallway.
Rosie spotted Akira grinding on Monoma, them both talking. Kendo and Tetsutetsu were drinking and talking with Kirishima and Mina and Komari and Kuroiro in the kitchen.
She spotted Izuku, Sero, Seiji, Tokoyami, and Mineta playing some racing game on the tv. Tsui, Ida, Shoji, Toru and Jirou and Kaminari were outside on the patio, some of them smoking and drinking.
She sipped her drink quietly before she felt her wrist being grabbed and tugged, letting out a yelp, she turned to see it was Katsuki. He brought a finger to her lips, shushing her before turning and dragging her upstairs. She followed him until they got into the guest room she had stayed in when she stayed here.
Immediately once the door was closed, Katsuki pinned her up against the door, his mouth on hers. Whimpering, she let out a pretty sigh as he picked her up and carried her to the bed, his mouth latched to her neck, “my girlfriend is so fucking pretty ain’t she?” he mumbled into her ear before his mouth latched to her pulse point.
“Katsuki…” she moaned.
Katsuki pulled away, his body hovering over hers, then he frowned, his hand cradling her face as she hissed. The puncture wounds from the grinch’s nails weren’t healed yet as she had completely forgot about them.
“She hurt you,” he clenched his jaw.
“I’m fine Katsuki,” she blinked at him smiling.
“No it isn’t,” he growled. “I should have done something when she showed up to my apartment.”
“She did what?” Rosie pushed him slightly for them to both sit on the bed now. “She showed up to your apartment?”
“Yeah,” Katsuki sighed. “It was when I took you home the day after we went to the diner. Kirishima and I were hanging out and the crazy bitch showed up at my place.”
Rosie frowned, “you didn’t tell me?”
“Nothing happened, I threw her out of my apartment when she tried to kiss me and slammed the door in her face. Kirishima was laughing his fucking ass off about it.” Katsuki ran a hand through his hair
Rosie pouted, “should have told me.”
He chuckled, “are you jealous, pretty girl?”
“You used to sleep with her,” she spat the words out. “Why wouldn’t I feel jealous that a girl you used to have sex with showed up to your apartment?”
Katsuki responded by grasping her face, rubbing his nose against hers affectionately as he grasped her wrist and kissed her inner wrist. “Only eyes for you, babydoll.”
She felt her face grow warm at the desperate affection in his eyes. “Katsuki, darling…” she mumbled.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you look good in your leathers.” Katsuki murmured before leaning into kiss her only for them to both hiss in pain as they grasped their heads, blinking only to be somewhere else.
Katsuki let out a low whistle, his eyes roaming over her appreciatively. “Fuck, sweetheart, you look good in your leathers.”
Cocking her hip to the side, Rosie crossed her arms beneath her chest, deliberately pushing her cleavage up. His gaze dropped immediately, and his smirk deepened.
“Eyes up here, Prince Charming,” she said dryly, though a faint flush crept up her neck.
“Can’t help it,” Katsuki said, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine. “Hard to focus when you’re standing there looking like that.”
Kirishima cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, guys? I’m still here.”
Katsuki didn’t even glance at him. “And?”
“You two are supposed to fight, not flirt,” Kirishima added, rubbing the back of his neck.
Rosie’s cheeks turned red, her embarrassment flaring. Katsuki’s smirk only widened, his sharp teeth glinting as he leaned forward slightly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll flirt now and handle that blush of yours later.”
Rosie rolled her eyes, trying to tamp down her rising heat. “You’ll have trouble making me blush after I beat you.”
Katsuki chuckled darkly, his voice dripping with amusement and challenge. “Hit me with everything you’ve got, sweetheart.”
She smiled, the tension between them crackling in the air. Slowly, she reached for her celestial sword, drawing it in one smooth motion. The blade gleamed in the light of the several fires that lined the arena’s walls as she held it confidently at her side. “Why not swordplay first?” she said, her voice laced with playful defiance.
Katsuki reached for the twin swords on his back, drawing them both with a flourish. His smirk turned predatory, his crimson eyes blazing with excitement. “What the lady wants,” he said, his tone low and suggestive, “the lady gets.”
They stared each other down, the crowd fading into the background as the world narrowed to just the two of them. Rosie tightened her grip on her sword, her lips curling into a smirk of her own. This was going to be one hell of a fight.
Just like before the memory disappeared, leaving them both staring at one another with confusion.
Rosie barely had time to process what they had just seen—the strange, vivid memory of them in leathers, swords drawn, and that intense crackling tension—before the door to the guest room flew open with a loud bang. Both she and Katsuki snapped their heads toward the doorway, eyes wide.
“Stop sucking face and come play Truth or Drink with us!” Akira grinned as she swaggered inside like she owned the place. Without warning, she grabbed Rosie’s arm and yanked her off the bed with surprising strength.
“Hey!” Rosie squeaked, stumbling to her feet.
“Oi, hands off my girl!” Katsuki barked, instantly on his feet. He strode forward, his hand snapping out to grab Rosie’s other wrist, pulling her back toward him.
Akira’s grip tightened, a playful but competitive glint sparking in her eyes. “Rosie’s mine, has been since we played hopscotch at the park in our childhood neighborhood,” she shot back with a smirk, tugging Rosie closer to her side.
“Mine,” Katsuki growled, his red eyes narrowing dangerously. He yanked Rosie harder, practically hauling her against his chest. “You don’t just get to waltz in here and steal my girl like she’s some damn prize.”
“Oh please,” Akira scoffed. “I’ve been keeping this one out of trouble since before you knew what to do with your dick.” She jerked Rosie back toward her, Rosie letting out an awkward, breathless laugh as she stumbled between them like a ragdoll.
“Yeah? Well, I’m the one putting her back together after shit like tonight happens,” Katsuki shot back, voice low and sharp. His arm looped protectively around Rosie’s waist, as if Akira might vanish with her in the blink of an eye.
“Funny,” Akira said, eyes glinting, “because I remember being the one who beat the shit out of her bullies for her back in the day.”
“Yeah?” Katsuki snarled, stepping forward so that the two of them were practically nose to nose. “Well, I’m the one who—”
“Both of you shut up!” Rosie barked, voice louder than she intended. “I am not a chew toy for you two to fight over! Frankly my arms are getting sore with you two yanking on me.”
Both Akira and Katsuki froze, tension thick in the air.
“Yeah?” Akira grinned after a moment, her fingers still firmly curled around Rosie’s wrist. “Then maybe Rosie should decide.”
Rosie blinked, thrown off. “...Wait, what?”
Akira's grin widened. “Yeah, you heard me,” she said smugly. “If you’d rather stay up here making out with Blasty over there, fine. But if you wanna hang out with your actual best friend—”
“I’m her boyfriend, dumbass,” Katsuki growled, “that means—”
“It means you’re one person in her life. I’ve been here longer, and I’m taking her to play.”
“You wanna bet?” Katsuki scoffed. “She’s my girl—she’s staying with me.”
“You’re so jealous right now,” Akira snorted, eyes twinkling.
“I’m not jealous,” Katsuki snapped.
“You’re so jealous.”
“I am not—”
“Oh my God,” Rosie groaned, dragging her hands down her face. “Fine, I’ll go with Akira.”
Katsuki’s head snapped toward her. “What?” His voice practically cracked.
Rosie sighed, giving him an apologetic smile. “You’ll survive five minutes without me, Katsuki.”
“Tch,” Katsuki scoffed, crossing his arms and scowling darkly. “Whatever. Not like I wanted to hang out with you anyway.”
Akira cackled, smug as she looped her arm around Rosie’s shoulders and started steering her toward the door. “Better luck next time, Blasty.”
“Oi!” Katsuki barked, following a few steps before halting at the door, his pride anchoring him in place. “Don’t let her get too drunk!”
“No promises!” Akira called over her shoulder.
“Rosie!” Katsuki tried again, voice sharp.
Rosie twisted back and grinned at him. “I’ll come back to you later,” she called sweetly, blowing him a kiss.
Katsuki stood there for a moment, scowling as he ruffled his hair in frustration. “...please do,” he muttered, mostly to himself, before turning back to the guest room and flopping down onto the bed.
Meanwhile, Akira dragged Rosie downstairs like she’d just won some grand prize, already chattering about the outrageous dares and embarrassing questions everyone had planned for Truth or Drink.
Rosie couldn’t help but laugh to herself. Katsuki’s jealous streak had a way of getting him riled up—but she had to admit, watching him flustered was kinda adorable not to mention she liked seeing him act so cute.
The living room was a mess of half-empty bottles, crumpled napkins, and scattered taco wrappers. Music thumped faintly in the background, but most of the noise came from the raucous laughter of the people gathered around the coffee table. Rosie sat cross-legged on the floor, her drink in hand, cheeks flushed from both the warmth of the room and the alcohol steadily creeping through her system.
“Alright, Rosie,” Kaminari slurred, barely managing to point the empty bottle at her as it wobbled dangerously in his hand. “Truth... or drink?”
Rosie gave a lazy smile, already feeling the buzz. “Pfft… truth.”
“Okay, okay,” Kaminari wobbled, struggling to form his thoughts. “If you had to kiss one teacher—one teacher—who would it be?”
Rosie nearly choked on her drink. "Absolutely not!" she laughed, grabbing the nearest bottle of tequila and taking a swig without hesitation. The room erupted in laughter, Kaminari doubling over as Akira cackled beside her, slapping Rosie’s knee in approval.
The game went on, and the room steadily thinned out as people tapped out one by one. Izuku was sprawled out on the couch, snoring with a half-eaten taco on his chest. Shoji was stretched out on the floor, his extra arms loosely curled around a pillow. Jirou had claimed the armchair, her head tilted back as she quietly snoozed.
Rosie’s head was spinning now, and she realized she was tipsy enough that her words were starting to slur. She’d dodged a fair few questions with alcohol, and her cup was barely leaving her hand anymore.
“Rosie, your turn!” Akira crowed, still perched comfortably next to her, though her own drink was dangerously low. “Truth or drink?”
“Ugh… fine. Truth.” Rosie hiccupped, giggling softly.
Akira grinned like a cat who had cornered a mouse. “Alright… who was your first real crush?”
Rosie’s mouth opened… and then closed. Her brain fumbled for a way out, but she couldn’t think fast enough. Instead, she grabbed the closest bottle—some mystery liquor that smelled like regret—and took a long gulp, the burn hitting her throat hard.
“Coward!” Akira whooped, laughing as Rosie coughed and thumped her chest.
As the night dragged on, more people tapped out—Mina had curled up on the couch near Izuku, Kaminari had passed out face-down on the carpet, and Sero had ended up draped across Kirishima like a human blanket.
By now, Rosie was tipsy enough to answer without thinking. When the bottle landed on her again, she went with “Truth” without hesitation.
“Alright…” Kendo swayed a little as she tried to think of a good one. “If you had to marry one guy here, who would it be?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Rosie giggled, taking another sip of her drink. “Katsuki.”
Akira’s eyes widened. “Ohhhh, spill!” she crowed.
Rosie blinked, the words settling in her brain a beat too late. “...Wait, no!” she stammered. “I mean—not like marry marry—I just—he’s—”
Before she could finish, a tipsy Akira shot to her feet and twirled in place, losing her balance. She bumped into Rosie, sending her toppling sideways with a giggle.
“Oi!” Katsuki’s voice barked from the hallway, sharp enough to cut through the noise. Rosie barely registered him until she felt herself being lifted off the floor. Strong arms wrapped around her waist as Katsuki hefted her up with surprising ease.
“Whatcha doin’, Blasty?” Mina’s voice slurred as she stumbled over, her face just as red as Rosie’s. “Stealin’ my girl?”
“She’s not your girl,” Katsuki growled, adjusting Rosie’s weight against his chest as she slumped lazily against him. “She’s drunk.”
“Well maybe I should take her home!” Mina shot back, waggling her finger at him dramatically.
“Oh for fuck’s sake—” Katsuki started.
“I think you’re scared,” Mina interrupted, smirking like she’d just caught him in checkmate. “Scared you’re gonna say somethin’ stupid in front of her.”
“I already did,” Katsuki shot back. “Now move.”
“Nooope,” Mina sing-songed, planting herself in his way with her arms wide open. “Not ‘til I make sure my bestie’s good!”
Rosie, still slumped in Katsuki’s arms, giggled as she half-heartedly raised her hand, her fingers fumbling to grasp the hilt of one of her daggers. “I got it,” she mumbled through her sleepy smile. She managed to pull it free from her belt and waved it clumsily in the air.
Katsuki paused, staring down at her with a look of pure exasperation. “...What the hell are you doing?”
“Defendin’ my honor,” Rosie slurred, her arm swaying unsteadily as she brandished the dagger in Katsuki’s general direction.
He snorted, smirking down at her. “Yeah? What’re you gonna do with that, babydoll? Stab me?”
“Maybe…” Rosie mumbled, her eyes already drifting shut as the dagger wobbled in her hand.
With a quiet chuckle, Katsuki reached out and easily plucked the blade from her fingers. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he muttered, sliding the dagger back into its sheath before hoisting her higher in his arms.
Mina pouted dramatically. “Fine, fine. Take her home,” she grumbled, waving her hand dismissively. “But if she throws up on you, I’m so telling everyone.”
“I’ll take my chances,” Katsuki muttered, heading for the door. Rosie, now half-asleep against his chest, just hummed contentedly, her fingers lazily curling in his shirt as he carried her out.
Rosie groaned as her eyes fluttered open, her head pounding like someone was beating a drum inside her skull. The sunlight seeping through the car window felt like a personal attack. With a wince, she squinted over to see Akira slumped in the backseat, sunglasses perched low on her nose and an oversized hoodie pulled over her head like she was trying to disappear from existence.
"M’dyin’..." Akira mumbled, nursing her coffee cup like it was the only thing keeping her alive.
“Tell me about it,” Rosie grumbled back, clutching her own coffee like a lifeline. She took a slow sip, wincing as the hot sweetened liquid scorched her throat—but she knew it was the only thing tethering her to reality right now.
“Both of you are pathetic,” Katsuki’s voice rumbled from the driver’s seat. His sunglasses were perched on his face, and one hand lazily gripped the wheel while the other rested on the console. His hot coffee sat in the cup holder.
“I’d fight you,” Rosie mumbled, leaning her head over the console and pressing her temple against Katsuki’s arm, “but I think my soul already left my body…”
“Yeah?” Katsuki snorted, shifting slightly so his arm draped around her shoulders. His fingers idly traced circles on her arm, a warm comfort against the lingering ache in her head. “You’re the dumbass who wouldn’t stop drinking last night.”
“I was pressured,” Rosie whined dramatically, her voice muffled against his sleeve.
“Sure,” Katsuki muttered, but his voice softened as he gave her a small squeeze. “Drink your coffee, dumbass.”
“...You’re so mean,” Rosie mumbled, though she nuzzled closer, comforted by his warmth.
Akira snorted beside her. “I’d call it cute if my head didn’t feel like it was about to explode.”
“Both of you, shut up and drink your coffee,” Katsuki growled, though Rosie felt him chuckle faintly under his breath.
By the time they reached campus, Rosie was still holding onto her coffee for dear life, but at least the stabbing pain behind her eyes had dulled. Katsuki parked and climbed out of the car, waiting as Rosie and Akira sluggishly followed.
“Why are you even here?” Katsuki asked Akira with a scowl. “You don’t even go here.”
Akira grinned despite the dark circles beneath her eyes. “I wanted to annoy my dad.”
“You’re gonna annoy me first,” Katsuki shot back, side-eyeing her as he took a long sip from his coffee.
“That’s just a bonus,” Akira said smugly, flipping him off before looping her arm through Rosie’s.
Rosie snorted, her headache dulling just enough to smile. The cool morning air was doing wonders for her hangover, but it was Katsuki’s familiar presence that kept her steady. He walked on her other side, his hand pressed firmly against her back like he knew she’d topple over without him.
“You know,” Rosie muttered, giving Akira a sideways glance, “if you didn’t want to go to class, you could’ve just stayed home.”
“Nah,” Akira shrugged, grinning despite her visible exhaustion. “Wanna see Aizawa in teaching mode.”
Katsuki scoffed. “He’s just gonna ignore you.”
Akira smirked, wagging her finger at him. “Exactly! Which means I get to nap in peace and annoy him just by existing. It’s a win-win.”
“You’re such a brat,” Katsuki muttered, but there was no real bite to it.
By the time they reached the classroom, Rosie was feeling less like a corpse and more like a very tired person trying to function. The moment they stepped inside, she stifled a laugh—the room was filled with their classmates, and everyone looked like death warmed over.
Mina was slumped over her desk, face down on her notebook. Kirishima sat beside her, sipping coffee like it was holy water while Sero groaned dramatically from the next row over. Jirou sat with her head buried in her arms, a mostly-empty energy drink can beside her, and Kaminari was blinking blearily at his textbook like the words were written in another language. Even Momo, normally composed, was stirring her tea with shaky hands.
“Looks like we all had the same brilliant idea,” Rosie mumbled, setting her coffee down as she slid into her usual seat. Akira dropped into the chair beside her, immediately slouching down with her hood pulled back over her head.
Katsuki tossed his bag on the floor and dropped into the seat behind Rosie, muttering something about “damn idiots drinking like amateurs.” He leaned back in his chair, his coffee balanced on his knee as he scanned the room with a smug smirk—clearly enjoying how wrecked everyone looked.
Moments later, the door creaked open, and Aizawa shuffled inside, looking about as thrilled to be there as they all felt. His hair was half-tied back, his eyes bloodshot and ringed with dark circles, and he clutched a massive travel mug of coffee like it was keeping him alive. He barely spared anyone a glance—until his gaze landed on Rosie.
“You look like hell, Sunshine,” he grunted.
“Good morning to you too, Dad,” Rosie croaked out, giving him a half-hearted salute.
Then his eyes flicked to Akira—and narrowed slightly. “...You’re here?” he asked, voice flat.
Akira grinned lazily and gave him a two-finger salute. “Miss me, Dad?”
Aizawa stared at her for a moment like he was deciding whether or not to bother responding. Then he let out a long, suffering sigh and took a sip from his coffee. “Ahhh,” he muttered dryly, “my second child is here.”
Rosie giggled behind her hand while Akira’s grin widened.
“I like to keep you on your toes,” Akira teased, still reclined in her chair like she was a queen on her throne.
Aizawa just blinked, lifted his hand in a half-hearted wave, and mumbled, “Don’t cause problems,” before turning back toward the board.
“No promises,” Akira called after him.
Katsuki snorted from behind them, muttering something about "damn gremlin energy," but Rosie just leaned back slightly, feeling Katsuki’s boot nudge against the back of her chair. She smiled softly, resting her head on her hand as she sipped her coffee.
It was a chaotic morning, but a good one.
Sitting in the cozy ramen shop with her dad and Akira felt like stepping back in time. The warm scent of broth and sizzling pork filled the air, the low hum of conversation buzzing around them. A pretty waitress with red hair came over bringing them their food, refilling their waters before bowing her head and leaving quickly. Growing up, Rosie and Akira had been inseparable—two chaotic forces constantly in motion. Wherever one went, the other was never far behind.
Akira only had her mother, Kotoko, a fiercely intelligent and successful lawyer. Her dad had taken off before she was even born, and with Kotoko’s demanding career, Akira spent a lot of time at Rosie’s house. Kotoko and Rosie’s mom, Miyu, were close friends, so it made sense. Still, it was Aizawa who had quietly stepped in to fill the father role in Akira’s life.
Rosie still remembered the third-grade father-daughter dance like it was yesterday. Akira had been fine at first, cracking jokes, talking big about how she didn’t need a dad to dance with her. But when the music started, and she realized she was one of the only kids without someone to dance with, she’d crumpled in on herself. She'd burst into tears, clutching at Aizawa’s sleeve and sobbing, “Can you just be my dad too?”
He hadn’t even hesitated. From that moment on, Akira had been his second daughter, no questions asked. However, Rosie had found out much later that he had already considered Akira his daughter when she came to him crying, scraped up from falling out of a tree.
Now, Akira sat across from them, poking at her ramen with all the enthusiasm of a kid forced to eat vegetables.
“How’s your mom doing?” Aizawa asked between sips of broth.
“On vacation with the stepdad,” Akira muttered, nudging her noodles like they’d personally offended her.
Aizawa raised a brow. “Is there a problem?”
“Yes.” Akira sighed like she was about to announce the end of the world. “He wants to have a kid with my mom.”
Rosie and Aizawa both froze mid-bite, staring at her like she’d just dropped her bowl on the floor. Akira kept poking her ramen, her face blank.
Rosie set her chopsticks down. “Wait… does your mom even want another kid?”
Akira shrugged, still not looking up. “I dunno. I refused to have that conversation with her.”
“Well,” Aizawa cleared his throat, clearly choosing his words carefully. “That… would be interesting.”
Akira’s mom, Kotoko, had only been seventeen when she had Akira, so biologically it wasn’t impossible. But the idea of a second kid—especially with a twenty-year age gap was wild.
“I think it’s ridiculous,” Akira muttered, finally slurping up a strand of noodles with a grumpy scowl.
“Well,” Rosie piped up, sensing the need to shift gears before Akira stabbed her bowl in frustration, “I was thinking… maybe the three of us could go visit Eri on Wednesday. Since she didn’t get a chance to see you last time.”
Akira perked up immediately. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Rosie grinned. “We could make a day trip of it, take her to that amusement park in Yokohama.”
Akira’s face split into a grin. “That sounds perfect.”
Aizawa snorted, slouching back in his seat like a man who knew fate had personally conspired against him. “All three of my daughters together…” He shook his head dramatically. “I’m gonna go broke.”
Rosie giggled behind her hand while Akira grinned wickedly. “I dunno, Dad. Maybe if you were cooler, you’d have richer taste in kids.”
“I’m plenty cool,” Aizawa deadpanned, barely lifting an eyebrow.
“You’re the ‘naps with his cat and yells at teenagers’ kind of cool,” Rosie teased.
“That’s the best kind of cool,” Aizawa shot back without hesitation.
“Sure, sure,” Akira said, leaning over the table with a smug grin. “But you know Eri’s been perfecting her ‘puppy dog eyes’ routine. She's a menace now.”
He snorted, “wonder who could have taught her that little routine.”
Akira smirked mischievously while Rosie blushed embarrassed and shy. “No wonder I can never say no to you two,” Aizawa groaned like a man already defeated. “Yeah… I’m doomed.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Rosie agreed, her smile wide.
Akira laughed, and for a moment, everything felt light, like they were kids again, sitting around the dinner table, teasing their exhausted yet endlessly patient dad.
“Don’t worry,” Akira added with a grin. “If you go broke, you can always sell your soul to get rich quick.”
Aizawa gave her a dry stare. “My soul wouldn’t be worth that much.”
“Well,” Rosie chimed in, leaning on her elbow, “you are the dad to three feral daughters. I’m sure someone would pay for that story.”
“Oh great,” Aizawa muttered flatly. “A memoir. 'How to Survive as a Dad of Gremlins: The Aizawa Shouta Story.'”
Akira and Rosie burst out laughing, and Aizawa, despite himself, let out a low chuckle.
Yeah… he was doomed.
Notes:
I love the next chapter, it focuses mores on Rosie and her makeshift family but we'll get some cute Katsuki x Rosie moments as I won't split tomorrow's chapter and just keep it at the word count it is<3
Chapter 74: Rosie has a boyfriend?!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Katsuki…” Rosie whined, dragging out his name.
“I said no,” Katsuki muttered stubbornly.
She rolled her eyes, shifting her weight to one side. “I need to go now.” She softened her tone, brushing her fingers through his messy blonde hair. “Katsuki, darling? You need to let go of me.”
But Katsuki wasn’t having it.
Buried against her stomach, his arms were locked around her hips, face pressed into her dress like he was trying to fuse himself to her. He was on his knees, clinging to her like a stubborn cat refusing to be removed from someone’s lap.
“Not happening,” he grumbled, voice muffled against the fabric.
Rosie laughed, feeling the vibration of his words against her stomach. Her fingers danced through his hair again, and he let out a low, contented rumble—almost like a purr.
“My dad’s about to pick us up,” she reminded him gently. “You’re going to have to let me go soon.”
Katsuki’s response was to tighten his grip, mumbling something unintelligible against her stomach.
“What was that?” she giggled.
He lifted his head just enough to meet her gaze, eyes narrowed. “I said, if you leave me, I’ll die .”
Rosie snorted, ruffling his hair. “You’ll live.”
“Barely.” His fingers dug in tighter, his face once again disappearing into her dress.
Eventually—albeit begrudgingly—Katsuki let her go. But as soon as he stood, he was cupping her face, pulling her into a searing kiss. Hungry and intense, his lips claimed hers like he was trying to make her late on purpose . His hands slid up her dress, fingers grasping her hips firmly as he deepened the kiss. His mouth trailed down her jawline, nipping and kissing until he found her pulse point, where he lingered—kissing, licking, and nipping languidly.
“Mmm… Katsuki…” she hummed, eyes fluttering shut.
A sharp knock on the door interrupted them. “You have two minutes!” Akira’s voice barked from the hallway.
With a frustrated growl, Katsuki reluctantly pulled away. Rosie giggled as she turned back to the mirror, smoothing her dress. She wore a pink and white babydoll dress that barely brushed the tops of her thighs, paired with pink shoes and white frilly socks.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” Katsuki muttered from behind her, sitting on the bed now, eyes glued to her reflection. “Twirl for me.”
Blushing, she did so—slow and teasing—before stepping between his legs. His hands immediately grasped the backs of her thighs, fingers flexing like he was memorizing the feel of her.
“Pretty enough to be your girlfriend?” she teased.
His eyes darkened. “More than fucking pretty enough to be my girlfriend,” he rasped.
“Come on! He’s here!” Akira called again.
“I adore you,” Katsuki said, taking her wrist and kissing it.
“I adore you too,” Rosie grinned. “But I really have to go now.”
With another groan, Katsuki finally let her go. Rosie grabbed her heart-shaped purse, leaned down to kiss him on the cheek, and smiled.
“I’ll text you throughout the day.”
“Send photos,” he rasped.
Blowing him a kiss, Rosie left her apartment to meet Akira, who stood waiting with an impatient look on her face. Together they rode the elevator down to the lobby, where her Dad was already parked outside in his car.
The drive to Yokohama was peaceful. Aizawa, ever the prepared dad, had already picked up coffee for both Rosie and Akira.
“Figured you’d need it,” he said dryly, handing them the cups. “Since you two apparently don’t sleep anymore.”
“We were binge-watching a kdrama,” Rosie said defensively, already sipping her coffee. She ignored the scalding heat burning down her throat—she needed the caffeine.
“It’s not our fault K-drama plot twists are addicting,” Akira added with a smug grin.
“Don’t encourage her,” Aizawa muttered, eyes fixed on the road.
After picking up Eri, they found a cozy little breakfast spot in Yokohama—a diner tucked into a corner street with big booths and the scent of fresh pancakes wafting through the air.
Eri, sitting between Rosie and Akira, excitedly talking about her classes. “My classes are really fun! I like literature the best,” she beamed. “And I’m getting better at writing essays.”
“That’s awesome,” Rosie grinned. “Are you still playing with that group of girls from your dorm?”
Eri nodded eagerly. “Yeah! We’ve been practicing dances together—andI’m actually good at them now!”
“You’re probably the best one there,” Akira smirked. “You're a natural.”
“Maybe,” Eri giggled.
Then Akira leaned in, eyes gleaming mischievously. “Sooo… do you have any crushes yet?”
Eri blinked. “What?”
“A crush,” Akira repeated, wiggling her eyebrows.
Aizawa, who had been mid-sip with his coffee, choked. “ Excuse me? ”
“It’s normal!” Akira shot back. “She’s, like, what—twelve? That’s prime crush territory!”
“No one’s dating my kid until they’re thirty,” Aizawa grunted, crossing his arms.
“Dad, you’re ridiculous ,” Rosie laughed.
Eri looked thoughtful. “Well… I think I was almost confessed to…”
The entire table paused.
“Wait, wait, what ?” Aizawa said, his voice rising an octave.
“It’s fine!” Eri said quickly. “Kota told him to leave me alone.”
“KOTA?” Aizawa barked.
Rosie burst out laughing, Akira cackling beside her.
“Oh no,” Rosie grinned. “ Kota stepping in like a bodyguard?”
“I bet he didn’t even have to say anything,” Akira snorted. “Just stood there, glaring in silence, and the poor guy ran for his life.”
“He’s my best friend,” Eri shrugged.
Hiding her smile, Rosie watched Eri. How quickly a mere best friend can become a significant other. She could see Kota and Eri being a couple when they got older and it made her smile.
“Kota deserves a medal,” Aizawa muttered darkly. “That boy’s getting extra credit.”
Rosie sipped her coffee, watching her dad stew. Eri was such a funny mix of both her and Akira— sweet but sarcastic, reserved yet surprisingly bold. The kid had guts, and Rosie adored her for it .
“You’re gonna be swarmed with boys soon,” Akira teased.
“ No, she’s not, ” Aizawa snapped, shooting her a warning glare.
Rosie just giggled, feeling warm and happy. For all his grumpiness, her dad wouldn’t trade this chaotic trio of daughters for anything. And honestly? Neither would she.
The amusement park buzzed with energy—the air thick with the scent of fried food, sweet treats, and salt from the nearby sea. Neon pink wristbands gleamed on all four of their wrists as they strolled along the pier.
Eri practically bounced ahead, her excitement contagious. Rosie and Akira flanked her on either side, while Aizawa trudged along behind them, hands shoved deep into his pockets like the world’s most tired bodyguard.
“What should we do first?” Akira asked, shading her eyes with her hand as she scanned the rides.
“We just ate,” Rosie reminded her, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I don’t think roller coasters are a great idea just yet.”
“Bumper cars!” Eri clapped her hands, pointing excitedly at the ride. “Come on, let’s go!”
The three girls hurried off, and Aizawa— with the resigned sigh of a man long ago accepted his fate —trudged after them.
The bumper cars were a chaotic mess of screams, laughter, and wildly swerving vehicles. Eri was relentless, her car zeroing in on Aizawa like she was gunning for revenge . She rammed into him over and over with the force of someone taking out years of denied candy requests in one blow. Akira cackled the entire time, while Rosie spent more time driving away from the chaos than actually bumping anyone.
“I am so good at this,” Akira declared smugly as they exited the ride.
“Yeah, because you kept teaming up with Eri to target Dad!” Rosie accused with a grin.
“I did not! ” Akira gasped in mock offense.
“You absolutely did,” Aizawa muttered, rubbing his ribs. “I’m not paying your dental bill when you chip a tooth grinning like that.”
They wandered through the park, hopping on smaller rides—the spinning teacups, the Ferris wheel, and a gentle boat ride. Eri looked like she was having the time of her life, practically glowing with excitement.
Eventually, they made their way toward one of the larger roller coasters. As they stood in line, Aizawa excused himself.
“I’m gonna grab your cotton candy,” he muttered. “Stay here with your sisters and don’t wander off .”
“I promise!” Akira called after him.
“Promise,” Rosie said sweetly, earning her a hair ruffle before Aizawa disappeared into the crowd.
The line crawled forward, and Rosie found herself absently looking at the towering coaster ahead—entirely unaware of the group of college guys in front of them turning around and taking notice.
“Hey,” one of them—a tall guy with shaggy hair and a confident grin—said, eyes locking on Rosie. “You’re really cute. Are you from around here?”
Rosie blinked at him. “Uh… yeah?”
“Nice,” the guy grinned. “Maybe after this ride, we could—”
“Oh, please ,” Akira cut in, sliding up beside Rosie with a wicked smile. “If you’re trying to pick up girls, you’re gonna have to try harder than that .”
“Oh?” Shaggy-Hair grinned, now switching his attention to Akira. “And what would impress you ?”
Akira gave him a slow, deliberate once-over. “Not you.”
Rosie stifled a laugh, still oblivious to the fact the guy had been flirting with her first.
Shaggy-Hair wasn’t deterred, though. “C’mon,” he said, flashing what he clearly thought was a charming smile. “You’re here with friends, right? What if we all hang out?”
Akira opened her mouth, no doubt ready to deliver a cutting remark, but just then—“What the hell is this?”
Aizawa had returned, holding three giant tufts of pastel-colored cotton candy— one pink, one blue, and one mixed —and wearing a scowl that could wither crops. His sharp gaze zeroed in on the group of guys like a hawk spotting prey.
“Oh no,” Akira muttered gleefully under her breath.
“Hey, we’re just talking,” Shaggy-Hair said, raising his hands. “No big deal.”
“Yeah?” Aizawa stepped forward, cotton candy still clutched in his hands. His dark eyes narrowed. “Because it looks like you’re bothering my daughters.”
The guy chuckled awkwardly. “Chill, old man, we’re just—”
“Dad!” Eri suddenly shot forward, snatching the pink and blue cotton candy out of his hand. Before he could advance further— and likely scare piss out of them —Eri shoved a handful of the fluffy pink and blue mixed sugar directly into Aizawa’s mouth. “You have to try this!” she insisted with all the urgency of a child saving the world.
Aizawa froze, caught mid-glare as Eri stuffed the cotton candy into his face. His mouth opened instinctively, and Eri’s triumphant smile widened.
“See?” she grinned. “Isn’t it good ?”
Aizawa blinked, still chewing. By the time he swallowed, the college guys had wisely decided to turn back around and mind their business.
“...Yeah,” he muttered dryly, glancing down at Eri. “It’s good.”
Rosie, still clueless that anyone had been flirting with her, happily accepted her own pink cotton candy.
“Thanks, Dad!” she grinned.
“You’re welcome,” Aizawa grunted before shooting Akira a look. “And you —quit encouraging weirdos.”
Akira just smirked. “Relax. If anyone tried anything sketchy, I’d break their nose before you even got the chance.”
Aizawa snorted, but there was pride behind it. “That’s my girl.”
Rosie just giggled, watching her dad glance over his three daughters— one sugary-sweet, one sharp-tongued, and one obliviously charming —and knew exactly what he was thinking by the expression on his face: ‘I’m so outnumbered.’
After a couple more roller coasters—each one rougher on Aizawa’s patience and spine—the girls had insisted on one final mission:
“You have to win each of us a plushie!” Eri had declared, dragging Aizawa by the sleeve toward the carnival game booths.
“Yeah!” Akira chimed in. “We need something to remember this day by!”
“You’re asking a tired old man to knock down milk bottles?” Aizawa muttered, but he was already rolling up his sleeves.
The game attendant handed him three weighted balls, and the girls stood behind him, practically vibrating with excitement. “You got this, Dad!” Rosie cheered, hugging Eri’s shoulders.
With a sigh that suggested this would be the greatest feat of his life , Aizawa squared his shoulders and aimed.
BAM! One ball knocked down the entire first row.
BAM! The second ball toppled the second row.
BAM! The last ball nailed the remaining target, sending the bottles scattering in all directions.
“YEAHHH!” Eri whooped, jumping up and down.
Rosie leaned up, kissing his cheek, “knew you could do it Dad.”
The game attendant handed him more of the weighted balls and just like before, he had been able to knock each milk bottle down until not one they were all knocked down. The booth attendant—looking very annoyed—gestured to the wall of prizes. Rosie picked out a small plush dragon, with Eri picking out a red axolotl, and then an otter plushie for Akira. The girls all took photos with their prizes with Aizawa smiling at them.
After that, the girls managed to squeeze their dad into a photo booth, eager to continue to find ways to commemorate the day.
“Come on! Just one set of pictures!” Akira pleaded, shoving him into the tiny booth.
The four of them crammed inside, Rosie on one side, Akira on the other, Eri wedged happily in the middle with her plushie.
The first photo was normal enough—everyone smiling. The second one had Eri holding up her plushie in front of her face. The third caught Akira mid-snort as Rosie made bunny ears behind her head. And the fourth? Aizawa sat slouched in the corner, looking exhausted while all three girls kissed his cheeks dramatically.
“Perfect,” Akira grinned smugly as they stumbled out.
By the time lunchtime rolled around, Eri was practically dragging her feet, her plushie clutched in her hands along with her bag of cotton candy. “I’m starving ,” she whined.
“Ooooo, I want a burger!” Akira perked up.
“That actually sounds good,” Aizawa muttered, running a hand through his hair. He turned to Rosie, “Sunshine? Burger sound good to you?”
Rosie smiled, still clutching her dragon plushie. “Yes, I would like that very much.”
“Then we can go shopping after!” Akira beamed, clapping her hands.
Aizawa groaned softly under his breath.
Lunch was a chaotic affair—burgers stacked high with toppings, fries scattered across the table like treasure, and thick milkshakes that the girls sipped happily between bites.
“Oh no, I needed this,” Akira groaned dramatically after her first bite.
“We should get burgers every weekend,” Eri declared through a mouthful of fries.
“You’ll turn into a burger,” Aizawa deadpanned.
“Better than turning into a grump like you,” Akira shot back with a grin.
“I heard that,” Aizawa muttered, stuffing the milkshake dipped fry in his mouth.
Rosie giggled, resting her chin in her hand, slowly devouring her burger in rapid succession. Days like this—messy, loud, chaotic—were her absolute favorite.
Shopping is where things really got out of hand.
The girls moved like a whirlwind through the mall—one second they were admiring shoes, the next they were dragging Aizawa into a clothing store.
“Hold this!” Akira shoved two shopping bags into her dad’s arms.
“Can you carry this for me too?” Rosie added sweetly, handing him another bag.
“Dad, I want this hoodie!” Eri grinned, already waving a red sweatshirt in his face.
Aizawa was quickly reduced to a glorified pack mule— his arms stacked high with bags, a weary look on his face as the girls flitted from store to store like butterflies.
By the time they stopped for smoothies, Aizawa was convinced he had funded half the mall . The girls, meanwhile, were thriving— sipping on their smoothies while scrolling through their phones.
“Group selfie!” Akira announced.
The three girls huddled close together, drinks in hand, and snapped photo after photo—smiling, making faces, even sticking their tongues out at one point.
“Dad, get in here!” Eri called out.
“I’ve been your designated pack mule all day,” he muttered. “I’ve earned the right to avoid this.”
“You’re such a grump,” Akira teased before sticking a straw in her mouth.
Rosie smiled to herself, sipping her smoothie as she glanced at her family—Akira chattering with Eri, Aizawa hovering protectively nearby with their bags in his hand.
The three girls wandered into a lingerie store, bright pastel colors and soft fabrics lining the walls. Lacy bralettes, silk robes, and delicate sets of underwear were displayed like art. Aizawa lingered by the entrance, visibly uncomfortable.
"I’m taking a call," he muttered quickly, fishing his phone from his pocket and practically bolting out the door.
"Uh-huh," Akira snorted. "He’s just scared."
"He should be," Rosie grinned, dragging her fingers along a silky nightgown.
Eri followed closely behind them, her face scrunched in curiosity—eyes flicking nervously at the displays like she was afraid to touch anything.
"What's the point of all this?" Eri asked, keeping her voice low.
"Feeling cute," Akira answered simply, holding up a red lacy bra before putting it back.
"Or powerful," Rosie added, flipping through a rack of sleek black sets. "It’s like armor— but soft. "
Eri tilted her head. "It’s just... underwear ."
Akira snorted. "Oh, you’ll get it one day, kid."
"Yeah," Rosie chuckled. "You’ll understand when you’ve gone through puberty."
Eri shuffled a little closer to them, hesitant. "When..." she started, fiddling with the sleeve of her hoodie. "When will I be old enough to wear stuff like that?"
Both Rosie and Akira paused. They exchanged a look— one of those silent sisterly conversations that didn’t need words. Rosie had fulfilled the mother role and the sister role and this conversation definitely fell into the category of Mom. But by how Eri’s nervousness, she needed to fulfill that conversation in the older sister role.
"You know what?" Rosie smiled, crouching to Eri’s eye level. "For your early thirteenth birthday gift, Akira and I will both get you a cute set. Something comfy, something sweet. Not... you know ..." She gestured vaguely at a fiery red lace number hanging on a nearby rack.
"Yeah, none of that yet," Akira laughed. "We’ll get you something you’ll feel good in."
Eri’s face lit up, her smile wide. "Really?!"
"Of course!" Rosie grinned. "That’s what sisters are for."
"I want one with flowers on it!" Eri said brightly.
"Deal," Akira grinned, giving her a high five.
For a few minutes, they browsed together—Rosie and Akira pulling out options and asking Eri’s opinion. The little girl’s confidence grew as they went, and before long, Eri was pointing out colors and patterns she liked.
"Ooo, this one’s cute," Akira said, holding up a red set with white, pink and lilac flowers embroidered.
"That’s perfect for her!" Rosie beamed before she found a cute pastel pink set that was sheer and had embroidered cute butterflies all over the bra. “This one is cute. I think I’m going to get it.”
"Yeah, and Rosie can wear it for her boyfriend!" Akira added casually.
Rosie’s heart stopped . "Akira!" she hissed, eyes wide.
"Wait..." Eri froze, looking between them. "Rosie has a boyfriend ?!"
Akira slapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, crap... sorry!"
"Eri, sweetie," Rosie knelt again, reaching for Eri’s hands. "Listen—this is a huge secret, okay? Like... top-level, ‘Dad can never know’ secret. "
Eri’s eyes widened. "I can keep a secret! I swear!"
"Sister pinky promise?" Rosie held out her pinky.
Eri immediately linked her finger with Rosie’s. "Sister pinky promise!"
Rosie exhaled, still unsure this was a good idea. But Eri’s excitement made her smile. "It’s... Katsuki ," she said softly.
Eri’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. "The angry blonde guy ?! The one who always shouts at Deku?!"
Rosie laughed. "Yeah... that one."
"Oh my gosh! Is he... is he nice to you ?" Eri’s voice dropped to a whisper, like she was suddenly a spy gathering top-secret intel. Her wide, curious eyes locked onto Rosie’s, eager for every detail.
Rosie smiled softly, a warmth filling her chest at the thought of Katsuki. "He’s really sweet," she said, her voice softer now. "Just... not in front of people. He’s kinda clingy, honestly."
"He’s clingy ?!" Eri giggled, covering her mouth like she couldn’t believe it. "But he’s always so grumpy!"
"Right?" Akira chimed in with a grin. "He’s like a dog—all bark in public but just wants to curl up in your lap when no one’s looking."
Rosie laughed. "He’s... kinda like that, yeah. He’s really protective too—like, if he thinks something’s wrong, he’s there in a second. He’s always looking out for me."
Eri's face scrunched up in thought. "Like how?"
Rosie’s smile widened as she started listing things off, fingers ticking with each one.
"Well... he’s always bringing me stuff— like flowers, or my favorite snacks just because he knows I like them. He remembers everything I say, so if I mention craving something or feeling stressed, he shows up with whatever I need."
"That’s so cute!" Eri squealed.
"He’s always buying me food too," Rosie went on with a fond chuckle. "Even when I tell him not to—he just shoves a bag into my hands like, ‘ Shut up and eat it, dumbass. ’" She mimicked Katsuki’s gruff tone, which had both Eri and Akira giggling.
"Oh!" Rosie brightened. "And whenever we go somewhere, he insists on picking me up—doesn’t matter if it’s freezing rain or if I say I’m fine. He’ll just show up like, ‘ Get in the car, I’m not letting you walk. ’"
"Awww!" Eri cooed, clutching her hands together. "He’s like a big angry chauffeur!"
"Exactly!" Rosie laughed. "And if I forget a jacket or if it gets cold, he doesn’t even ask—he just throws his at me like I’m gonna freeze to death if I don’t wear it. Sometimes he doesn’t even say anything—just yanks it off and wraps it around me."
"I need to see this!" Eri giggled, practically bouncing on her heels. "He sounds so different when he's with you!"
"He really is," Rosie murmured, her smile turning softer. "He acts all tough, but... he’s so thoughtful. He notices when I’m tired, or if something’s bothering me. Sometimes, he doesn’t even say anything— he just knows when I need a hug or when I need him to stick around. "
"Oh my gosh!" Eri gasped, clutching Rosie’s arm. "That’s so romantic ! Like a boyfriend straight out of a manga!"
"Right?" Akira snorted. "Rosie bagged herself a keeper."
"I can’t wait to meet him!" Eri grinned. "He’s gonna be my brother-in-law one day, I just know it!"
Rosie flushed, sputtering, as she held the pastel pink set in her hands. Akira busted out laughing while Eri just stared at them both with a wide smile.
"Ohhhh I bet he’s gonna be so awkward when I meet him!" Eri giggled. "I’m gonna ask him so many questions! "
Rosie groaned, hiding her face behind her hands. "Please don’t!"
"Nope!" Eri said proudly. "I’m asking everything . Gotta make sure he’s good enough for you!"
Akira gave Rosie a smug grin. "Looks like you’ve got a bodyguard now, Sunshine ."
Rosie just shook her head, but deep down, she felt warm. Between Katsuki’s stubborn devotion, Eri’s fierce loyalty, and Akira’s relentless teasing, she knew she was surrounded by people who loved her—and nothing felt safer than that.
Even if they were determined to invade her love life.
But maybe that’s what having sisters was for—to judge, question, and lightly torment her boyfriend. Especially since their mom wasn’t here to do it herself. That thought settled heavy in her chest—bittersweet and lingering. If their mom had been here, she'd absolutely be grilling Katsuki at the dinner table, asking him what his “ intentions ” were and making him squirm in his seat.
Guess Eri’s picking up the torch, Rosie thought with a small smile.
Shaking off the moment of melancholy, she pulled out her phone and tapped open her text chat titled Pomchi💖. Her fingers danced across the screen.
Rosie: Katsuki? Are you busy later?
His reply came almost instantly.
Pomchi💖: For you? Never.
Rosie smiled, already feeling her heart flutter along with her face flushing.
Rosie: I’m making dinner tonight. You should come over.
Pomchi💖: What time?
Rosie: Around eight.
She left Eri out on purpose—that part was a surprise.
Pomchi💖: Alright, I’ll be finished with patrol at eight.
Rosie grinned down at her phone, warmth spreading through her like a cup of hot cocoa.
Rosie: I miss you.
Pomchi💖: I miss you.
Her heart flipped. She could practically hear his voice—low and gravelly, like he’d murmured it just for her to hear.
Rosie: You’re a clingy boyfriend, you know that?
Pomchi💖: Yeah and?
Rosie: I adore you
What could go wrong with her boyfriend meeting her little sister?
After her dad dropped them off at her apartment, Rosie and Akira helped Eri put her shopping haul into her overnight bag, making sure everything was neatly packed for her to take back to her dorm the next day. Meanwhile, Rosie had taken to cooking dinner — something she normally enjoyed, but tonight her nerves kept getting the best of her.
Her mind kept spinning as she stirred the pot of curry on the stove. Would this dinner go well? Katsuki had a habit of being... well, Katsuki . He and Akira got along, sure, mostly because they were both equally stubborn and loud, though they’d never admit it. But Eri?
Eri was a mix of both Rosie and Akira, shy at times, but with no filter and a sharp, no-nonsense outlook. Something she took from their Dad over the years. There was no telling what she'd say to Katsuki tonight, and Rosie wasn’t sure whether to be worried or amused.
By the time the table was set, Rosie had just started to relax, only for a knock at the door to make her jump.
It’s fine , she told herself, smoothing her dress. It’s just Katsuki, and he’ll be getting questioned by my thirteen year old sister. It'll be fine.
But as she opened the door, her heart still skipped a beat when she saw him. Katsuki stood there, looking as effortlessly cool as always, casual black T-shirt under a bomber jacket, hands stuffed in his pockets, and a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. His gaze softened the second he saw her.
“Hey,” he said softly, his voice low and warm.
“Katsuki…” Rosie smiled, feeling her nerves ease. She stepped forward, intending to wrap her arms around him, only to suddenly be yanked back by Akira.
“Time for dinner!” Akira grinned wickedly, dragging Rosie backward like she’d just intercepted a scandalous crime.
“Oh no…” Rosie muttered. That grin, that grin meant trouble.
“What did you do?” Rosie whispered urgently as Akira practically shoved her into the dining room.
“Oh, nothing.” Akira’s smug smile widened. “Just... gave Eri some helpful tips.”
Rosie’s stomach dropped. “You what ?”
But it was too late, Katsuki had already stepped inside, following them to the dining room. Rosie’s gaze immediately landed on Eri, who was already seated at the table, sipping from her glass of water with a sweet, innocent smile. Too sweet.
But her eyes— sharp and narrowed —were locked directly on Katsuki with the suspicious intensity that reminded her too much of Dad.
Katsuki, to his credit, barely reacted. His face remained calm and indifferent, like he was just mildly amused by whatever nonsense Eri had planned. He greeted her with a slight nod before pulling out his chair and sitting down beside Rosie like nothing was amiss.
Dinner had barely started when Eri leaned forward in her chair, arms crossed on the table and eyes narrowed like a detective about to crack a case. If she wasn’t so nervous, she would find it absolutely adorable. Rosie took her seat beside him, already dreading whatever was coming.
“So…” Eri began, setting her cup down carefully—too carefully. “ You’re Rosie’s boyfriend?”
Rosie sighed. Here we go.
“Yeah,” Katsuki replied simply, spooning some rice onto his plate. “I am.”
Eri leaned forward, chin resting in her hands. “And how long have you been dating?”
“Two months,” Katsuki answered, still calm, still focused on his food.
“And what exactly are your intentions ?” Eri pressed, voice taking on a serious tone that had Rosie nearly choking on her water.
Akira, across the table, snorted and took a big bite of her curry to hide her grin.
“My intentions ?” Katsuki repeated, raising an eyebrow. He finally turned to look at Eri directly. “I’m her boyfriend. We’re together. My intention is to be her only boyfriend.”
“Hmm.” Eri squinted at him, clearly unsatisfied. “And what do you do for her?”
“I take care of her,” Katsuki said easily. “No matter how big or small of a task.” He paused, taking a sip from his drink. “I take care of her. Always.”
Rosie felt her face heat up, her heart flipping in her chest. Damn him. How was he so effortlessly sweet while sounding so casual about it?
“Ohhhh,” Akira drawled, barely containing her laughter.
Eri’s eyes narrowed further. “And do you fight ?”
“Yeah,” Katsuki said, shrugging. “I’m a pro hero. It’s kinda part of the job.”
“I mean with Rosie,” Eri clarified, pointing her fork at him like it was a weapon.
Katsuki’s lips quirked in a faint smile. “Nah.”
“No?”
“No.” He glanced at Rosie and shrugged again. “I don’t care to be fightin’ with her. What’s the point?”
Rosie blinked, surprised. “You… don’t ?”
“I mean, you get snappy sometimes,” Katsuki muttered, reaching out to grab her hand under the table. His thumb brushed over her knuckles. “But you’re too damn cute when you’re mad, so it’s kinda hard to take you seriously. Then when you bat those pretty eyes at me, it’s hard to remember why I’m annoyed in the first place”
“Oh my god ,” Akira wheezed, finally bursting into laughter. She clutched her glass of wine like it was her lifeline.
“I am not cute when I’m mad!” Rosie protested, swatting his arm— though she couldn’t help but smile.
“You are,” Katsuki said firmly, like that was the end of the debate.
Eri finally sat back in her chair, frowning. “Hmph. Well... you better keep being nice to her.”
“Always,” Katsuki promised without hesitation.
"So..." Eri began slowly, dragging the word out as she stared directly at Katsuki.
Katsuki, who had been in the middle of grabbing his fork, arched a brow. "Yeah squirt?"
“What’s my sister’s favorite color?” Eri asked, her tone sharp.
Rosie’s fork clattered against her plate. “Eri…”
“No, no, let her,” Akira grinned, sipping her drink like she was watching a show unfold. “Let her give him her little test to see just how much he knows about you.”
Katsuki barely paused, stabbing a piece of chicken with his fork. “Pink,” he said confidently.
“That was an easy one,” Eri shot back, unimpressed. “What’s her favorite food?”
“Toasted sandwiches,” Katsuki answered without hesitation. “Avocado, bacon, prosciutto, light mayo and mozzarella cheese. Occasionally, she wants the crusts cut off.”
Rosie blinked, her face heating. How did he even know about the crust thing?
“Lucky guess,” Eri muttered. “Okay, what’s her favorite flower?”
“Trick question,” Katsuki said between bites. “She has three because she thinks it’s unfair to have just one favorite flower. They are roses, carnations, and peonies. Currently, she has a bouquet of pink, white and red roses on her desk”
Rosie’s jaw dropped slightly. She did have white roses on her desk—he'd brought them over just last week.
Akira snorted, clearly entertained.
“Okay,” Eri said, tapping her chin. “What about her favorite drink?”
“Strawberry lemonade,” Katsuki drawled. “But she drinks that gross iced coffee every morning anyway.”
“I like that iced coffee,” Rosie finally protested, her face warm.
“It’s still gross,” Katsuki said with a shrug.
Eri hummed thoughtfully, her eyes narrowing further. “Alright… what’s her least favorite food?”
“Anything with artichokes,” Katsuki replied immediately. “Akira ordered a pizza yesterday and tried to make her eat it, and she shoved them into a napkin like no one would notice.”
Akira burst out laughing. “ Oh my god , you saw that too?”
Rosie buried her face in her hands, her face too red and hot from embarrassment.
“Okay,” Eri said, clearly running out of questions. “What’s her favorite movie?”
“Pride and Prejudice and Zombies,” Katsuki said instantly. “She always watches it when she’s feeling sick or sad.”
Rosie slowly peeked out from behind her fingers, stunned.
“Alright,” Eri sat back in her chair, clearly impressed. “Last question.” Her eyes gleamed with mischief. “What’s your favorite thing about her?”
Akira’s eyes practically lit up. “Oh, this should be good.”
For the first time, Katsuki paused. He set down his fork, leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful look on his face. “My favorite thing?” He tapped his fingers against the table, then glanced at Rosie—his gaze steady and sure. “Her eyes,” he said, voice low but firm. “She’s got this soft, kinda hazy look when she’s tired. Like she’s daydreaming. And when she’s focused, they get all sharp and serious. She thinks no one notices, but I always do.”
Rosie felt her breath catch in her throat. She stared at him, stunned—too flustered to say a word.
“Ohhhh,” Akira teased, dragging the sound out with a wicked grin. “ Sappy .”
Katsuki made an obscene gesture, before snatching her drink.
Eri, surprisingly, just smiled. “That’s kinda sweet,” she said before digging into her dinner like nothing had happened.
Rosie, on the other hand, sat there still red-faced, trying to process how this stubborn, loud, hot-headed boyfriend of hers had somehow noticed things about her she didn’t even realize she showed.
“You’re staring,” Katsuki muttered to her out of the corner of his mouth.
“Shut up” Rosie shot back quietly, still flustered but smiling all the same.
He only smirked.
“Good.” Eri finally gave a satisfied nod—and then, without warning, leaned over to Rosie and whispered loud enough for the entire table to hear:
“He’s kinda cool.” Eri shrugged, her tone deliberately casual. Then, with a smug smile, she added, “But I’m not done with him yet.”
Rosie groaned, slumping back in her chair as Akira snorted so hard she nearly choked on her drink.
“Yeah,” Akira grinned, wiping her mouth. “He’s alright.”
“Damn right I am,” Katsuki shot back smugly, grabbing another piece of naan and tearing into it like he’d just won a championship.
Rosie buried her face in her hands, peeking out just enough to see Eri still eyeing Katsuki like she was mentally writing a report on him. Akira, meanwhile, kept grinning like she was enjoying the chaos far too much.
Rosie couldn’t wait for Akira to get a boyfriend and make her suffer through the same thing.
The conversation dragged on like this throughout dinner—Eri’s determined grilling, Katsuki’s unwavering confidence, and Akira egging it all on while Rosie sat helplessly in the middle of the madness.
Finally, when the dishes were empty and they’d all settled into post-dinner laziness, Katsuki stood and stretched.
“Alright, shrimp,” he said, turning to Eri. “Go grab Maya’s leash.”
Eri perked up. “We’re taking her on a walk?”
“Yeah,” Katsuki said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
Eri practically bolted from the room, leaving Rosie blinking in confusion. “Wait... what?” Rosie turned to Katsuki, narrowing her eyes. “You’re taking her on a walk?”
“Relax,” Katsuki muttered, smirking at her. “I’m just talkin’ to her. Obviously she wants to talk to me as well, so it’s no big deal.”
That definitely sounded like a big deal.
“I—" Rosie started, but before she could protest, Akira looped her arm around Rosie’s shoulders and steered her back toward the kitchen.
“C’mon, sunshine,” Akira said smugly. “We’ve got dishes to do.”
“But—”
“They’ll be fine,” Akira insisted, grinning ear to ear. “You’re just freaking out because he’s winning her over.”
“I’m not freaking out,” Rosie huffed, aggressively gathering plates. “I’m just… concerned . What if she asks something weird? What if she tells him something embarrassing? What if—”
Akira snorted. “Chill out. She’s not interrogating him for the FBI. He’s got this.”
Rosie sighed but tried to relax as they cleaned up the kitchen together. It didn’t work. Her mind kept spinning, imagining every awkward question and embarrassing story Eri could be sharing at that very moment.
Thirty minutes later, the door opened, and Eri and Katsuki walked back in, Maya immediately running towards her water bowl.
“I approve,” Eri declared proudly, tossing her jacket on the couch like she’d just returned from a successful mission.
Rosie’s eyes narrowed. “Okay, hold on, approve of what? What did you even talk about?”
Before Eri could answer, Katsuki shook his head, grinning smugly. “It’s a secret.”
“Oh, come on!” Rosie groaned, throwing her hands up.
Katsuki just smirked, stepping closer to her. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, lowering his voice. Then, before she could react, he kissed her, slow and warm, his hand lingering at her waist before trailing down her arm. Then, as if to seal his victory, Katsuki took her hand and kissed her inner wrist, his lips brushing her pulse. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he murmured before turning toward the door. “Thanks for dinner.”
Rosie stood there, dazed, still feeling the ghost of his kiss on her skin. “What the hell did you two talk about?” she called after him.
But Katsuki just chuckled over his shoulder. “Wouldn’t you like to know, doll?”
Once the door closed, Rosie let out a frustrated groan.
“You’re overthinking it,” Akira chimed in, flopping down on the couch. “Trust me, whatever they talked about, it worked.”
Rosie sighed, still unsettled but knowing Akira was right. Especially when it comes to such matters.
“C’mon,” Akira called, patting the spot next to her. “We’re doing skincare and watching garbage TV. You need it.”
Eri’s eyes lit up. “Ooo! Can I try that glittery face mask you have?”
“Only if you promise to stop interrogating my boyfriend now that you have given your approval,” Rosie teased, already heading to grab her skincare products.
“No promises,” Eri shot back with a grin.
The rest of the evening was spent with Rosie, Akira, and Eri sitting cross-legged in front of the TV, their faces covered in colorful masks as they sipped smoothies and critiqued the latest drama on screen.
Rosie still didn’t know what Katsuki and Eri talked about… but seeing Eri nestled beside her, giggling at the ridiculous reality show, Rosie couldn’t help but feel relieved.
Whatever Katsuki had said, it clearly earned her little sister’s approval, and for now, that was enough. Still made her nervous about telling her Dad about Katsuki. Luckily for her that would be for another day, very far far away.
The next day, Rosie and Akira stood outside Eri’s dormitory school, the morning air cool but pleasant. Eri was dressed neatly in her school uniform, her red overnight bag clutched tightly in her hands. Her hair was neatly brushed, and she wore a soft smile as she turned to face her sisters.
“Alright,” Rosie said, pulling her phone out. “One more picture before you go.”
“One more?” Eri groaned but still moved closer, standing between her two sisters.
“Smile!” Akira called, throwing her arm around Eri’s shoulders as Rosie held up her phone. The three of them beamed, and Rosie snapped the photo.
“Perfect,” Rosie said proudly, tucking her phone away.
“Alright, brat,” Akira said, wrapping Eri in a big hug and ruffling her hair. “Don’t forget to text us, okay?”
“I know, I know,” Eri giggled, straightening her hair once Akira let go.
As they turned to leave, Rosie spotted someone approaching from the side—Kota. He was shuffling closer, his signature red horned hat pulled low, hands stuffed deep in his pockets, eyes glued to the ground like he was pretending he didn’t even see them. His uniform was neat, his red shoes scuffed but still bright.
“Kota!” Rosie called brightly.
He stopped in his tracks, looking like a deer caught in headlights.
“C’mere!” Akira grinned, grabbing him by the sleeve and dragging him forward before he could escape.
“Ugh, no—wait!” Kota protested, squirming half-heartedly, but Rosie had already thrown her arms around him from one side while Akira hugged him from the other.
“You’re such a good kid,” Rosie cooed, squeezing him tightly.
“G-Geez, knock it off!” Kota stammered, his face turning bright red as he awkwardly hugged them back.
“Look at you,” Akira teased as they let him go. “Our little hero, saving Eri from unwanted suitors.”
Kota’s face turned an even deeper shade of red, and he shoved his hands back into his pockets with a muttered, “I didn’t do anything...”
Rosie leaned closer, lowering her voice just enough for only him to hear.
“You should confess to her already,” she whispered. “Before someone else beats you to it.”
Kota’s head shot up, wide-eyed and mortified. “Wh-what?!”
But Rosie just grinned at him and gave him a little wink before stepping back beside Akira.
“Bye, Eri!” Akira called as they waved, Eri standing beside Kota now, smiling and waving back.
Once they reached the car, Akira’s phone buzzed. She answered with a casual, “hI.”
Rosie could only hear Akira’s side of the conversation.
“Oh yeah? Yeah, I’m free… Yeah, sounds good. I’ll see you later.”
Rosie quirked a brow as Akira hung up. “Who was that?”
“Monoma,” Akira said, tossing her phone in her bag. “He wants to hang out.”
“Oh?” Rosie smiled knowingly. “Are you two finally admitting there’s something going on?”
“Pfft, please,” Akira grinned mischievously. “Maybe I’ll be in his bed by the end of the day, who knows?”
Rosie snorted, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love me for it,” Akira shot back smugly.
“I do,” Rosie admitted with a smile. “But I’ll be heading to work. Are you gonna be home tonight?”
Akira shrugged dramatically. “Depends. Maybe I’ll be home... maybe I’ll be tangled in Monoma’s sheets. ”
“Gross,” Rosie muttered through a laugh.
“Hot,” Akira corrected with a wink.
Work is boring as usual, Rosie debated on whether to just clock out early and go to bed as she was tired from staying up late last night.Rosie sighed, resting her chin in her hand as she sat behind the counter. Work had been painfully slow all day, and the thought of clocking out early and crawling into bed was becoming more tempting by the minute. She let out another sigh, reaching for her lip gloss and reapplying it with practiced ease.
“I’ve got a flour delivery here,” a man’s voice called out from the front.
Rosie glanced up to see a man in a blue and green uniform standing at the entrance. He wore a baseball cap with short dark hair peeking out from underneath, and green eyes that blinked at her, looking slightly bored.
“I’ll sign for it,” Rosie said with a polite smile.
The man stepped forward, handing her a clipboard and pen. She scrawled her signature and passed it back to him.
“Just head to the kitchen,” she told him. “Yui or Kanako can tell you where to put it.”
“Got it.” He turned back toward the door just as another man in the same uniform entered, balancing two large boxes stacked on top of each other.
Rosie stifled a yawn as they disappeared into the kitchen. Just as she was about to rest her head on the counter, her phone rang. Seeing Pomchi💖 flash across the screen, her face lit up.
“Katsuki!” she answered brightly.
“Hi, doll,” Katsuki’s voice greeted her, sounding a little breathless. There was a loud BOOM in the background, followed by someone screaming. “Get back here you rat bastards!”
Rosie giggled. “Uh... are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he panted. “Just a bunch of dumbasses trying to outrun me. How’s work?”
“Pretty boring,” she admitted, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers. “I’ve been debating clocking out early.”
“You tired?” Katsuki’s voice softened just a bit.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I was up too late last night.”
“You better not be staying up just to wait for me to text you,” he muttered, though there was no real bite in his tone.
“Maaaybe,” she teased.
He scoffed, but she could hear the smile in his voice. “What time you getting off?”
“Six,” she replied.
“I’ve got patrol until eight,” he said between heavy breaths, clearly still chasing someone down. “Text Akira to go home with you, alright?”
“I’ll be fine,” Rosie insisted. “I can grab a taxi by myself, if she’s busy.”
“Hell no,” Katsuki growled. “You will not go home alone, got it?”
Rosie laughed softly. “Yes, sir.”
“Damn right.” There was another loud BOOM followed by Katsuki’s victorious shout of, “Gotcha, asshole!”
“Alright, go arrest your villains,” Rosie chuckled.
“Yeah, yeah. Text me when you’re home.”
“I will. Be safe, Katsuki.”
“You too, doll.”
Hanging up, Rosie shook her head fondly, still smiling.
The bell above the café door jingled, and Rosie looked up to see Riku walking in. He was still dressed in his usual detective attire—dark slacks, a light button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a slightly rumpled blazer. His hair was messier than usual, and there were dark circles under his eyes.
“Hey, Riku,” Rosie greeted as he approached the counter. “Coffee to go?”
“Please,” he said, rubbing his temples. “I need the strongest thing you’ve got.”
“You alright?” Rosie asked as she started making his drink.
Riku let out a dry laugh. “Just been working a big case. Haven’t been home in a couple of days.” He sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Starting to forget what my bed feels like.”
“Yikes,” Rosie winced. “That sounds rough.”
“Yeah.” He leaned an elbow on the counter. “Hey... about the last time we talked.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I just... I wanted to say sorry for asking you out. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that.”
Rosie blinked in surprise before offering him a kind smile. “It’s alright. Honestly, you miss every shot you don’t take.”
Riku chuckled tiredly. “Yeah... you’re right. Thanks for not making it weird.”
“No worries,” she said, handing him his coffee.
“Appreciate it.” He smiled faintly before heading out the door.
Rosie exhaled, finally ready to relax when the bell jingled again. This time, Shinso strolled in, his expression unusually serious.
“Hey,” Rosie greeted, noticing his furrowed brow. “What’s up?”
“Something’s off about that guy,” Shinso muttered, jerking his thumb toward the door where Riku had just left.
“Riku?” Rosie frowned. “Really? Why?”
“I don’t know,” Shinso admitted, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Just... something feels off. He’s been popping up a lot lately—and always tired, always in a hurry. He’s supposed to be working a case, but...” His eyes narrowed. “I dunno. Something doesn’t add up.”
Rosie hummed thoughtfully, tapping her fingers on the counter. “He did say he hasn’t been home in a couple of days.”
“Yeah,” Shinso said darkly. “And that’s what’s bothering me.”
“I’ll keep an eye out,” Rosie promised.
“You should,” Shinso muttered. “Just... be careful, alright?”
“I will.”
Notes:
I loved writing this chapter❤️ but uh calm before the storm haha as next chapter is going to be a horrible time, for me, for you, and especially for Rosie🤭🥰
Chapter 75: And then... there was nothing.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Six on the dot, Rosie clocked out, stripped off her apron, and tossed it into her locker before grabbing her purse. She groaned softly when she realized she’d forgotten her coat— braving the cold was her only option now.
Stepping back into the front of the café, Rosie spotted Akira standing by the counter, grabbing two steaming cups of coffee for them.
“Thanks for coming to walk with me,” Rosie smiled, gratefully accepting one of the cups.
Akira snorted. “I’d do anything for you. Now come on, I promised that boyfriend of yours I’d get you home before dark.”
Rosie grinned as they waved goodbye to Shinso, Yui, and Kanako before stepping out into the chilly evening air. The cold nipped at her cheeks, and she cradled the warm cup in her hands for comfort. “It’ll be faster to walk than to hail a taxi,” Rosie suggested.
“Fine by me,” Akira shrugged.
“So,” Rosie smirked over her cup, “how was your day with Monoma?”
Akira gave a casual shrug, but Rosie caught the way her lips twitched.
“It was nice,” Akira admitted. “He took me to a movie, then we grabbed lunch and walked around.”
“Sounds like a date ,” Rosie teased.
Akira shot her a pointed look, but there was no hiding the faint smile tugging at her lips. “Still too early to know.”
Rosie was about to press her further when someone bumped into her shoulder hard enough to make her stumble. “Oh, sorry—” Rosie started to say, only to freeze when she recognized the sneering face glaring back at her.
It was her. The Grinch.
Her bottom lip was split, a bruise bloomed beneath her eye, and her cheek sported an ugly gash—but her expression held nothing but smug disdain.
“What are you doing here?” Akira sneered, stepping between them protectively.
The Grinch crossed her arms, her eyes flicking from Rosie to Akira with a twisted smile. “Just minding my business,” she cooed, voice dripping with fake innocence. “Didn’t expect to run into you two .”
“You wanna keep walking then?” Akira shot back coldly. “Unless you want me to give you a matching black eye— but, y’know, cuter. ”
The Grinch’s grin widened like she’d been waiting for that. “Oh yeah? You’re still running your mouth, huh?”
“Don’t push me,” Akira warned, voice low.
Rosie swallowed hard, clutching her coffee tighter. She didn’t dare step in— Akira had a fire in her eyes that only spelled trouble.
“Oh, relax,” the Grinch said sweetly—right before snatching the coffee cup right out of Rosie’s hand.
“Hey!” Rosie shouted, but before she could react, the Grinch turned and dumped the steaming coffee right down Akira’s front.
“You bitch !” Akira barked, dropping her own coffee cup down. Her eyes flashed with rage as the Grinch took off running down the street.
“Stay here!” Akira growled at Rosie before bolting after her.
But Rosie’s feet were already moving. “Like hell I will!” she muttered, heels clicking furiously against the pavement as she chased after them.
The Grinch ducked down a side street, weaving between pedestrians with practiced ease. Akira stayed hot on her heels, snarling threats the whole way. Rosie struggled to keep up, heart pounding in her chest as they turned a sharp corner— and suddenly found themselves in an empty park.
The Grinch skidded to a stop in the middle of the walkway, chest heaving, her grin wild and cocky.
“Gonna hit me, Akira?” the Grinch taunted breathlessly, her bruised face twisted into a smug grin. “Go on—let’s see what you’ve got.”
Akira didn’t hesitate. “Gladly.”
With that, they lunged at each other, fists flying as curses filled the air. Rosie sighed, stepping back to give them space.
She watched as Akira dodged a wild swing, countering with a sharp jab to the Grinch’s side. The Grinch stumbled, swore, and lunged again. Rosie shook her head. Yeah… Akira’s justified. The Grinch totally had this coming.
Rosie turned away from the fight, deciding she might as well sit down and wait it out. Spotting a nearby swing set, she made her way across the park. The cold air bit at her skin, and her tired feet ached in her heels. As she reached the swing, her vision swam for a second—just enough for her ankle to roll slightly. She stumbled, pitching forward—
“Whoa there,” a voice murmured, and strong hands caught her by the arms.
Rosie blinked, startled. The park had been empty five minutes ago. Where had he come from?
“Uh... thanks,” she muttered, stepping back to steady herself.
The man smiled— too wide, too cold. He was tall, with black hair and piercing green eyes that felt like they were boring right through her. Something about him put her on edge. His grip lingered a second too long before he finally let her go.
“No problem,” he said softly, his voice smooth like velvet—but it didn’t comfort her. It curled around her spine like smoke, leaving her unsettled.
“Do I... know you?” Rosie asked carefully.
His smile widened. “Not yet.”
Rosie’s skin prickled. Her stomach churned as something deep inside her screamed that something was wrong . “I should get back to my friends,” she said slowly, taking a step back.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he murmured. Before she could react, he leaned in close—so close his breath tickled her ear. “You know,” he whispered, “it’s uncanny... how much you look like her .”
Rosie stiffened. “Like who?”
“Your mother,” he said, voice laced with cruel amusement. “That sorry excuse for a woman.”
Her heart stopped. Why was he talking about her Mother? Had he known her? “What?” she croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The man chuckled—a low, chilling sound that made her blood run cold. “When I get my hands on you,” he continued, his tone sickly sweet, “you’ll die just like she did. And I’ll make it look like a freak accident too.”
Terror clutched her chest like a vice. “Who are you?” Rosie demanded, but her voice wavered.
“Just a man with unfinished business,” he said casually— and before she could blink, his hand shot out.
Pain. Sharp, hot, and sudden. Rosie staggered back, gasping as her hands flew to her abdomen. The obsidian metal knife jutted out from her ribs, blood seeping between her fingers.
The man tipped his head like he was greeting an old friend. “Be seeing you,” he murmured, and then— in a puff of black smoke —he was gone .
Rosie swayed, her breath ragged. The world spun dangerously around her, the cold night air biting at her exposed skin. No, no... stay awake... stay awake...
Her legs buckled, and she barely managed to stumble onto the nearest swing, clutching the icy chain for balance. The cold metal stung her palm, grounding her just enough to keep her conscious. Her breath hitched— sharp and shallow —as her hand found the knife handle embedded in her. Blood seeped steadily from the wound, warm against her skin, staining her clothes. Every breath felt like fire crawling through her ribs.
Just hold on... just a little longer... Her vision wavered, and she closed her eyes, trying to block out the pain. Darkness swirled behind her eyelids— cold and endless.
And then, the darkness broke. The air around her shifted, no longer cold but blistering with heat. Rosie’s eyes flew open— only it wasn’t the park anymore.
She was standing on a snowy battlefield.
Amidst the chaos, a man stepped forward, his eyes a haunting shade of blue that glowed with unnatural power. Blue flames danced around him, crackling with an eerie light as they melted the snow beneath his feet. His lips curled into a wicked smile as he lifted his hands, sending a torrent of blue fire roaring towards her.
Rosie’s body twisted, leaping through the air as the flames seared the ground where she once stood. She landed gracefully, her boots digging into the snow as she charged forward, her sword gleaming with celestial light.
Their blades clashed, a burst of energy radiating from the impact. Blue fire coiled around his obsidian sword, crackling against her celestial blade as they fought with deadly precision. Rosie’s movements were swift, fluid, her daggers flashing as she weaved through his attacks, her sword dancing with divine power.
But he was relentless, his blue flames growing fiercer with every strike, his laughter echoing through the battlefield. “You fight well, little star,” he taunted, his voice cold and mocking. “But even stars fall.”
Rosie gritted her teeth, her bright eyes blazing as she deflected his attack, her sword burning with celestial fire. “Then I’ll fall in a blaze of glory,” she spat, her voice fierce as she lunged at him, her blade slashing across his chest.
He stumbled back, blue flames flickering as blood sprayed across the snow. But his lips twisted into a cruel grin, his eyes glowing with dark power. “Not today.”
Pain exploded through her body.
Rosie’s eyes widened, a sharp gasp escaping her lips as she looked down. An obsidian blade was buried in her stomach, its jagged edge coated in her blood. She could feel it—cold and merciless—as it twisted inside her, ripping through flesh and bone.
The man’s laughter echoed in her ears, cruel and victorious as he yanked the blade out, her blood splattering across the snow. The world spun around her, her vision blurring as she stumbled, her knees buckling.
She crumpled into the cold snow, her body hitting the ground with a soft thud. Pain radiated through her, sharp and searing as blood poured from her wound, staining the white snow crimson. She could feel her body growing cold, her strength fading as her vision dimmed.
Coughing, she tasted blood on her lips, the metallic tang bitter and cruel. Her fingers trembled, grasping at the snow as her body convulsed, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. Her celestial sword lay beside her, its light flickering as her life slipped away.
Through the haze of pain and darkness, she thought of him.
Katsuki.
What... was that?
Her thoughts twisted as her vision spiraled back to reality. The cold ground beneath her returned, the damp scent of the park flooding her senses. Rosie coughed violently, her body shuddering as blood spilled from her lips.
The pain in her side flared— real and brutal —and she forced herself to move. Get to Akira... just get to Akira...
Her trembling hand pressed against her side as she pushed herself to her feet. Her legs barely obeyed her. Each step felt like dragging iron weights through mud.
She staggered forward, her breath coming in short, wet gasps. “ Akira.. .” she rasped.
Her vision swam again— the distant blur of her friend still locked in a fight. Rosie stumbled, her foot catching on the uneven pavement. She nearly fell but managed to brace herself against a nearby bench.
Just... keep moving...
With trembling fingers, she reached for the knife and swallowed thickly. Pulling the knife out is a horrible idea but she needed to get Akira’s attention. Her breath caught. The pain flared like lightning. One... two...
With a sharp pull, she yanked the blade out. Her scream tore through the air— raw and ragged —as blood poured from the open wound. The world spun violently, and her knees buckled. She barely felt the cold ground beneath her as she collapsed to her knees, the knife falling to the ground. The numbness spread fast— her limbs turning heavy, her breath thin and shallow.
The warmth pooling beneath her skin shifted— her quirk stirring to life, desperate to keep her alive. A faint glow flickered along her wound, her body instinctively draining her energy to knit the torn flesh back together. But it wasn’t enough. She felt herself growing weaker— colder —as her blood continued to seep into the pavement.
“ Rosie .”
Distant voices. Familiar voices.
Akira’s panicked scream reached her ears first, followed by the Grinch’s startled cry.
Rosie’s fading vision caught a blur of figures running toward her—Akira’s wild eyes locking on her broken body as her scream tore through the air again. The cold claimed her before they reached her.
Rosie hummed softly as she ran a towel through her damp hair, steam curling from the bathroom door. The warm shower had eased the tension in her muscles, and now she stood in her bedroom, freshly dressed in sweatpants and a soft hoodie. Her skin smelled faintly of vanilla body wash, and her face still glowed pink from the heat of the water.
Finally, she thought, flopping onto her bed. The weight of the day had melted away.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She reached for it lazily, still combing her fingers through her wet hair. Unknown Number.
Frowning, she answered. “Hello?”
“Is this Rosie?” a voice asked—calm but urgent.
“Yes, this is she.”
“This is the General Hospital. Your mother was brought in a short time ago—she's in critical condition and is in surgery. You should come immediately.”
Rosie froze. Her heart stopped, her breath catching in her throat. “What?” she whispered.
“She’s in surgery now—I’m sorry, but we—”
The voice kept speaking, but Rosie didn’t hear the rest. Her phone slipped from her fingers, clattering onto the floor. She was moving before she even realized it.
Still barefoot, her damp hair clinging to her face and neck, Rosie bolted out the door. The cold air bit into her skin, but she didn’t feel it—she couldn’t. Her mind was blank, her body running on pure instinct. Mom… Mom… Mom…
The streets blurred past her as her feet slapped against the pavement, stones and debris biting into her soles. She didn’t care. Her lungs burned, her chest tightened, but still she ran.
By the time she reached the hospital, her face was streaked with tears—her breath coming in frantic, ragged gasps. “Where is she?!” Rosie cried, shoving her way through the automatic doors.
“Miss, please!” A nurse stepped forward, reaching for her. “You can’t go in there!”
Rosie wrenched away from her grip. “I need to see her!”
Another nurse grabbed her arm, but Rosie shoved past them both, her voice breaking. “Mom!”
The sterile walls blurred in her vision as she stumbled down the hallway, barely aware of the shouts behind her. A doctor moved to block her path, but Rosie dodged him, her trembling hand hitting a cold metal door.
She shoved it open.
The room was too bright—blinding, almost. The sickly scent of antiseptic filled her nose, but underneath it was something worse—something metallic, sharp, and unmistakable.
Blood.
Her mother lay on the operating table, pale as wax. A breathing mask was strapped over her face, her chest still—too still. The monitor beside her screamed with that single, deafening note—that endless, unbroken flatline.
“NO!” Rosie’s scream tore from her throat as she stumbled forward.
“Miss, please—” a surgeon tried to grab her arm, but she broke free, nearly collapsing against the table.
“Mom, Mama…please wake up... please...” Rosie’s fingers curled around her mother’s limp hand—cold to the touch. Too cold.
“She’s gone,” a doctor’s voice said from behind her. “We tried everything… we couldn’t—”
“NO!” Rosie’s voice cracked. “She’s not gone!” Her chest heaved, her breath coming in ragged sobs.
“Miss…” The doctor’s voice softened. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t—don’t say that!” Rosie’s fingers tightened around her mother’s hand.
Her breathing grew sharp and shallow, her vision swimming with tears. Her mother’s face was so pale, so lifeless, and yet… I can fix this… I can fix this…
Rosie’s quirk surged to life—instinctive and desperate. Her palm ignited with glowing energy as she pressed it over her mother’s chest. The light flickered and pulsed, warmth seeping from her hand as she poured everything she had into her mother.
“Come back… come back... please, just—just wake up!” Rosie’s voice was hoarse, raw with panic.
Blood seeped beneath her fingers—warm and slick—but Rosie refused to stop. The light from her quirk faltered, flickering wildly as she drained every ounce of strength she had.
“Please... please...”
Her body shook violently—her muscles seizing—but she kept going. The light in her hand dimmed to a faint glow, her fingers trembling. “Please…” Her voice was barely a whisper now.
Her vision blurred again, blackness creeping in from the edges. She barely registered the hands grabbing her, nurses pulling her away from the table.
The light in her hand faded entirely, her body finally giving out. The last thing she saw before darkness claimed her was her mother’s still, lifeless face.
Rosie woke to the faint beeping of a heart monitor and the sterile scent of disinfectant. The ceiling above her was white—too white—and the dull ache in her body felt distant, like her senses couldn’t quite catch up with reality.
Her fingers twitched against the coarse sheets, and as she shifted slightly, a soft creak sounded beside her. Blinking blearily, Rosie turned her head—and saw him.
Her dad sat in the chair beside her bed, his elbows resting on his knees, fingers tightly laced together. His hair was grayer than she remembered, and deep lines carved shadows beneath his eyes. He looked… smaller somehow, like something vital had been hollowed out from inside him.
“Dad?” Her voice cracked—dry, brittle.
His head jerked up, eyes red-rimmed and tired. “Rosie…” Relief flooded his face, but there was something else there too—something that made her chest tighten.
“Why are you here?” she asked, her voice weak but steady.
His expression faltered, and she watched him swallow hard before answering. “Do you… do you remember what happened?”
Rosie blinked, confusion clouding her mind. “What do you mean?” Her gaze darted around the room—the IV in her arm, the monitors beside her. Her breath quickened. “Why am I here?”
Her dad hesitated, his fingers tightening in his lap. “You don’t…remember?”
“Remember what?” Rosie pressed, panic rising in her throat.“Where’s Mom?” The silence that followed was suffocating. Her dad’s face crumpled as he struggled to meet her eyes. His lips parted, but no sound came out at first—like the words were too painful to form. “Dad…?” Her voice wavered.
“There was an accident,” he said finally, his voice thick and strained. “Your mom… she…” His breath shuddered. “She didn’t make it.”
The words hit her like a sledgehammer. “No,” Rosie said immediately, shaking her head. “No, that’s… that’s wrong. That’s not…” She let out a hollow laugh—thin and fragile. “You’re wrong.”
“Rosie…”
“No!” Her voice sharpened. “Where is she?” She tried to sit up, her breath hitching. “She’s fine, right? She’s just... She's just in another room, right?”
“Sweetheart…” His voice broke. “She’s gone.”
The world tilted. Rosie’s chest caved in as a cold, suffocating pressure swallowed her whole. “No…” Her voice cracked. “No… no, no, no…” The tears came fast—hot and uncontrollable—spilling down her face in thick, endless streams. Her breath hitched violently, her chest tightening until it felt like her ribs might snap. “She can’t be gone,” Rosie sobbed, shaking her head so hard her hair whipped against her face. “I tried—I tried to save her! I used my quirk — I… I…” Her breath stuttered, sharp and uneven. The air felt too thick—like she was drowning. Her fingers clawed at her chest, her ribs squeezing tighter and tighter. “I can’t… I can’t…”
Her vision blurred, her heartbeat hammering in her ears. Her body trembled violently, and the sobs turned into harsh, hollow screams that seemed to tear from somewhere deep inside her—raw and gut-wrenching.
“Somebody help her!” her father shouted.
The door burst open, and footsteps pounded toward her. Hands grabbed her arms, pinning her down as her body thrashed against the mattress. “No!” Rosie shrieked, her nails digging into her palms. “Let me go! Let me go!”
“Rosie, please!” Her dad’s voice broke.
“Give her something—now!”
A sharp prick stung her arm, and warmth began to spread through her veins. Her limbs felt heavy, her thoughts sluggish and hazy.
“No…” Rosie whimpered, tears still streaming down her face. Her voice faltered, no louder than a whisper. “No, I have to... I have to save her…”
Her vision blurred, dark shadows creeping in from the edges. The last thing she saw before the world faded away was her father’s face—pale, devastated, swallowed with grief—and the tears glistening in his eyes.
Death and pain. Life and pleasure.
They went hand in hand—two sides of the same coin. Rosie had understood that truth for as long as she could remember. Life was fleeting, delicate, like holding a butterfly in her palm. One wrong move, and it could be crushed. Her mother had taught her that.
"Your quirk is special," her mother had said one evening when Rosie was just seven years old, curled up beside her on the worn living room couch. "But it's not meant to make you powerful. It's a gift—one you have to respect."
Rosie had only half-listened at the time, too focused on tracing the veins in her mother's hand with her tiny fingers. But she remembered the way her mom’s voice turned soft yet firm—serious in a way that made her listen closer.
"You can help people, Rosie. But you're not a god. Don't ever think you can choose who lives or dies. That’s not your place—no matter how strong your quirk becomes."
At the time, Rosie had nodded, not fully understanding. It wasn’t until her goldfish died a year later that the lesson started to make sense.
She remembered the panic she'd felt when she’d found the little creature floating on the surface of its tank, lifeless and still. Her tears had fallen hot and fast as she reached out, her hands glowing faintly as she instinctively activated her quirk.
The fish twitched.
She had screamed, and her parents had rushed in to find her sobbing as her quirk flared brighter. The fish convulsed again— moving, yet wrong. Unnatural. Lifeless eyes stared back at her as its little body jerked, shuddered, then stilled for good.
Her mother had knelt beside her, gently folding her hands over Rosie’s glowing fingers. Her Dad used his quirk to nullify hers as darkness clouded her vision. "Sweetheart…” her mother whispered, "You can’t bring back what’s already gone."
They had buried the fish in the backyard, in a tiny shoebox coffin. Rosie had cried for hours. But after a week, she moved on. The pain was small— manageable.
But when her mother died… The grief was nothing like that goldfish. It was jagged, relentless, consuming. Like drowning in freezing water, lungs burning with no air in sight. Rosie had felt like a ghost in her own body, trapped somewhere between heartbreak and numbness.
For weeks, she’d barely spoken. Her father’s voice— soft and strained —had become a distant noise. She remembered Eri’s tiny hands tugging at her sleeve, desperate for her attention, but Rosie had been too broken to respond. Her mother’s words echoed in her mind over and over— "Don't ever think you can choose who lives or dies."
But Rosie had tried. God, she had tried.
Her hands had glowed, her power surging to its limit as she pressed it into her mother’s still, bloodied body. Her mind had screamed that she could fix it, that she could fix her.
But nothing happened. Her mother’s body stayed cold. Her breath never returned. Her heart never beat again.
It didn’t matter how much power she poured into her. She was gone . And Rosie had pushed herself too far, too hard— her mind spinning into blackness before she even realized she was falling.
When she woke up in the hospital afterward, her first thought had been of her mother. For a fleeting second, she forgot what had happened—forgot that her mother was never going to walk through the door and comfort her again. When her father told her the truth—that her mother was dead—Rosie had shattered all over again. The screaming sobs that tore from her throat hadn’t felt human. It was as though something inside her had ripped wide open—something raw and desperate that couldn’t be soothed. She had screamed and sobbed until her body gave out.
Her mother’s death had broken something in her— something she couldn’t name but she had tried desperately to move on, to smile and be positive because her mom would want her to.
Moving to Japan had been her attempt to escape the hollow ache that swallowed her whole. Akira had pushed her to go, promising to visit, promising she’d be okay. And Rosie had believed her because there was nothing left for her in America— nothing but an empty home and memories too painful to face.
Rosie wondered what her own death would bring as she heard sirens, frantic speaking but everything felt so faraway, like a hazy dream.
Would it hurt Katsuki the way her mother’s death had hurt her? Would Akira sob like Rosie had in that hospital room? Would Eri ask where she’d gone and cry when no one could explain? And what if this was her punishment ? For trying to play god—for ignoring her mother’s warning and pushing her quirk too far?
“Don’t ever think you can choose who lives or dies.”
Maybe this was how it was supposed to end. Maybe death had always been waiting for her—creeping closer since the moment she tried to save someone who was already gone. But still… she didn’t want to die. Not like this. Not alone.
Yet that taunting, creeping voice scratched at her mind, coiling around her thoughts like smoke. It whispered promises that felt almost comforting— Wouldn’t it be easier? it asked. Wouldn’t it be nice to stop fighting and just... let go?
Her heart ached, heavy and worn down. The voice sank its razor-sharp teeth into her chest, gnawing at her resolve as a new thought surfaced—a thought that almost felt like hope. If I die… maybe I’ll see Mom again.
The idea burrowed deep, and for a moment Rosie clung to it like a lifeline. She imagined her mother’s smile— warm and gentle. The way her arms wrapped around her, steady and safe. The sound of her voice— soft and soothing —whispering, It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay now. You’re home.
Would that be so terrible? Then— sharp and sudden —a pain flared in her chest, snapping her back to reality. It felt different than the knife wound—deeper somehow, like something inside her heart had been wrenched tight. And with it came another thought—one that shook her harder than the promise of seeing her mother ever could.
Katsuki.
Rosie squeezed her eyes shut as his face rose in her mind—fierce and scowling, yet somehow softer whenever he looked at her. She thought of the way his hand always found hers without him realizing it, how he’d grumble under his breath but never pull away. She thought of his voice— sharp and rough —barking at her to take better care of herself. The way he stood in front of her, always putting himself between her and danger, like protecting her wasn’t even a choice— like it was instinct.
What would Katsuki do if I died?
Rosie forced herself to imagine it—the way his face would twist when someone told him. How his eyes would widen, just for a second, before narrowing into something sharp and furious—a desperate attempt to bury his pain in anger. Would he scream? Would he lash out and tear apart everything in his path? Would he blame himself for not being there? Would he call himself a failure—tell himself he wasn’t strong enough, fast enough, good enough to save her?
The thought made her stomach churn. Because she knew he would— of course he would. Katsuki never gave himself room to grieve; he only ever carried his pain like a weight strapped to his back, crushing him down until he couldn’t breathe. And what if that weight was her? Would he cry for me?
The image of him—hunched over, shoulders shaking, teeth clenched so tightly his breath rattled in his chest—made her heart break. She could almost hear his voice, hoarse and furious as he yelled at nothing, rage masking the way he was falling apart inside. And what then? What would he do after the anger faded and the grief set in? Would he stop fighting? Would he shut everyone out? Would he give up on himself—on his dreams—because the pain was too much?
Rosie’s breath hitched, her body trembling.
No… no, no, no...
Because she knew how she would feel if it had been him .
If Katsuki died… if she woke up one morning and found out he was gone— gone forever —she wouldn’t survive it. She wouldn’t know how to breathe without him. How to stand up and walk forward when every part of her felt like it had been torn away. She would crumble. She would break, and there wouldn’t be enough pieces left to put herself back together.
And now... maybe that’s what was happening to her. Maybe she was already broken—shattered and fading, her mind slipping further and further away. The pain that once burned hot in her side now felt distant, like a dull ache swallowed beneath layers of cold. She shivered, her fingers twitching weakly where they lay in a pool of her own blood. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, stuttering breaths, each one slower than the last.
The world around her blurred, colors bleeding together in hazy shapes until she couldn’t tell where she ended and the darkness began. Then she saw her.
Her mother. She stood just a few feet away, smiling—that warm, gentle smile Rosie remembered so well. She looked exactly the same as Rosie remembered her— hair swept back in soft waves, eyes shining with love and warmth. But there was something else now… something that made Rosie’s breath catch.
Her arms were outstretched.
Rosie’s breath hitched, her body trembling. " Mom...?" Her voice was barely a whisper, rasping and broken.
Her mother’s lips moved— gentle words, soft and soothing. But Rosie couldn’t hear her. No matter how hard she tried to focus, her mother’s voice was nothing but a distant hum— muffled and blurred like sound underwater.
" Mom... " Rosie’s fingers twitched, reaching out— weak and trembling. She didn’t understand. Why couldn’t she hear her? Why couldn’t she run to her?
Her mother’s smile faltered— just slightly —her eyes flickering with something that looked like sorrow. She shook her head softly, her arms still reaching out—beckoning Rosie closer.
A sharp, piercing sound rang out— distant yet deafening.
A flatline.
Rosie’s breath faltered.
No… no, no, no...
It wasn’t just noise. It was real, the steady, unwavering tone of a heart that had stopped beating. Her heart.
" No... " Rosie whispered, tears streaking down her bloodied face. " No... I... I’m not ready... "
But her mother was still waiting—patient and calm—her arms still open.
And Rosie knew.
She knew she didn’t have a choice. Death had already come for her—cold fingers curling around her heart, dragging her down into the void. It had been waiting all along.
" I can’t... " Rosie choked on a sob, her voice breaking. " I don’t want to go... I didn’t... I didn’t say goodbye... "
Her body felt colder now—her fingers barely able to move. The world seemed to dim as her pulse weakened, her chest barely rising with each breath.
" I can’t leave them... " Rosie’s voice was a whisper now—faint and fading. " Katsuki... Dad... Eri... Akira... "
But her mother’s arms stayed open—waiting, patient... inevitable .
Rosie felt the cold seep deeper— her limbs too heavy to lift, her breath too shallow to catch. The last flickers of warmth inside her dimmed like a dying ember.
" I'm sorry... " she sobbed, the words barely forming past her trembling lips. " I'm sorry I left so much behind... "
Her vision blurred, her mother’s face the last thing she saw before the darkness swallowed her whole.
And then... there was nothing.
Notes:
I actually found myself crying at this one as the death of my own mom still makes me cry despite it being almost seventeen years ago. I had difficulty writing this one because it was hard to see the screen while crying and while editing it, I actually cut out a lot of scenes that I might shelf for later or just keep in the archives. Anyway, the chapter that is being referenced in this one is chapter 148 in The Pretty Elf and the Rogue Dragon Prince.
Chapter 76: I can’t do this without you
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
He knew something was wrong when Rosie didn’t text him when she got off work at six. She always texted him—whether it was a casual, “Heading home!" or a teasing "Survived another shift, I deserve a medal." But tonight, there was nothing.
At first, he brushed it off—told himself she probably got caught up talking with Akira. But as the minutes dragged on, unease gnawed at his chest.
Pulling out his phone, he checked her location. The map showed her at some park across town, and she hadn’t moved in ten minutes. His fingers hovered over her contact before calling. No answer. He tried Akira’s number next—same result.
Not like them... not like either of them.
He had planned to just drop by her apartment to check on both of them but that plan had halted when a couple of villains had crossed paths with him. It was a nice distraction but had been in the middle of the fight when his phone finally started ringing. His heart started pounding. It wasn’t Rosie’s ringtone—the distinct melody he'd set just for her. Instead, Akira’s name lit up the screen.
The second he answered, he knew something was wrong. The voice on the other end didn’t sound like Akira, it was choked, broken, barely coherent.
“It’s Rosie…” Akira’s voice cracked, followed by a shaky breath. “F-fuck… Katsuki…” She was crying. "She’s been stabbed...We're on the way to the hospital.”
The world lurched beneath him. For a heartbeat, he couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
And then something inside him snapped.
Shoving his phone back into his pocket, Katsuki glared down at the villain he’d been fighting, now sprawled across the pavement. He didn’t even bother finishing the fight and he wasn’t planning on it, he didn’t give a fuck if the villain escaped.
“Lucky day for you, bastard,” Katsuki snarled before launching himself down the street in a blur of smoke and sparks. He didn’t give a fuck if the villain went free. His girlfriend is the only thing that mattered.
He didn’t think, didn’t stop. His explosions carried him through the city at blistering speed, fury and panic twisting in his chest like barbed wire. His mind screamed with every heartbeat. She’s hurt. She’s hurt. She’s hurt.
By the time he burst through the hospital doors, his heart was racing so fast it felt like it might tear through his ribs. His gaze scanned the crowded lobby until he spotted them—Akira and... his ex. Both of them were slumped in plastic chairs, covered in blood—some dried, some still fresh. Akira’s knuckles were scraped raw, and his ex sported a swollen eye and split lip.
“What the fuck happened?” Katsuki’s voice was low and sharp, dangerously close to breaking.
Akira’s head shot up at the sound of his voice. For a second, her expression twisted with relief, regret, and agony all bleeding together, before she completely unraveled. “I-I don’t—” Akira choked out, tears spilling freely. “We were fighting… in the park… and we heard her scream and—oh God—she was just there. On the ground... s-she was bleeding out a-and…” Her voice cracked, her sobs swallowing her words. “She’s in surgery,” Akira whispered finally. “They don’t know if she’s gonna—”
Katsuki didn’t wait to hear the rest. He bolted down the hallway, shoving past nurses and ignoring their protests. His heart pounded so violently it made his ribs ache. He didn’t care. He couldn’t stop.
Something deep in his chest was pulling him forward. A force stronger than fear, stronger than rage. He followed that pull, skidding to a stop outside a set of white double doors.
“She’s in there!” a nurse called after him. “Sir, you can’t—”
But he didn’t listen. With a blast from his quirk, the doors exploded open. And then he saw her.
The sterile white room felt too bright, too cold, a stark contrast to the crimson that stained the floor. Blood—her blood—smeared across the sheets, pooling beneath her body. The scent was thick, coppery and nauseating. The scent was overwhelming as he fought the urge to throw up.
Rosie lay motionless on the table, pale and still. Her chest barely rises as her breathing is swallowed. Doctors hovered over her, hands pressing desperately against her chest. He saw one of them pull away, fingers slick with red as they reached for the defibrillator.
“Get him out of here!” one of the doctors barked.
“No…” Katsuki’s voice wavered, barely above a whisper. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Rosie looked so... small. So fragile and weak. Nothing like the fiery, stubborn force of nature he knew—the one who smiled so bright it hurt, who laughed like it came from her soul. Now, she was pale and still, her skin like wax beneath the hospital lights.
“Sir, you need to—”
“I’M NOT LEAVING!” Katsuki roared, shoving the nurse away with enough force to stagger her. His chest was heaving, breaths ragged and sharp.
Then he heard it. That long, high-pitched wail. The frantic beeping had stopped, replaced by that horrible, merciless tone. The flatline.
His world tilted beneath him. “No...” Katsuki staggered forward, stumbling like he’d been punched in the gut. “No, no, no…”
“Charge to 200!” one of the doctors shouted.
The defibrillator paddles slammed against her chest. Rosie’s body jerked violently, her limbs twitching lifelessly before slumping back against the bloodstained sheets. The flatline didn’t stop.
“Again!” Another jolt. Another twitch.
“Come on... please... come on...” The doctor’s voice was tight, strained, but Katsuki barely heard it.
His whole body felt cold, numb. “Rosie...” Katsuki’s voice cracked, barely audible. His vision blurred, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her face, her beautiful face, now so pale, her lips tinged blue.
“Get him out of here!”
He barely felt the hands grab his arm, firm but hesitant.
“No…” Katsuki choked out, shaking them off. “I can’t... I can’t leave her…”
“Katsuki...” That voice, familiar, steady, broke through the noise. Hawks.
The grip on his arm tightened, stronger this time, and suddenly Katsuki was being dragged backward. His legs buckled beneath him, but Hawks held firm, keeping him upright.
“Let me go...” Katsuki’s voice cracked as he twisted in Hawks’ grip, eyes locked on Rosie’s still body. “LET ME GO DAMMIT! I NEED TO GET TO HER!”
“You can’t be in there...” Hawks' voice was quiet but firm, filled with something Katsuki couldn’t place, something that scared him more than anything else.
And then Katsuki stopped fighting. His limbs went slack, the strength draining from his body as Hawks pulled him away. His vision swam, but all he could see was her. Rosie, lying there—lifeless, cold, with crimson blooming across her skin like a horrible flower.
He let Hawks drag him down the hallway, away from the sterile white room with its endless, screeching flatline. His chest ached, a deep, crushing pain like something inside him had snapped. His heart... it wasn’t whole anymore. It wasn’t right.
It felt like he was dying, like that day years ago, when Shigaraki’s hand closed around his chest, his fingers digging into Katsuki’s chest as his sheer raw strength punched a hole in him and punctured his heart. The pain back then had been white-hot and blinding. But this? This felt immeasurably worse.
He stumbled against the wall, fingers clawing at his chest as though he could physically hold his heart together. His breath came in sharp, ragged gasps.
“Breathe, kid,” Hawks murmured, steadying him. “Just... breathe.”
But he couldn’t. He couldn’t breathe past the image seared into his mind—Rosie on that table, her blood soaking spilling out of her, her chest still and unmoving.
His mind fought to replace it, to remind himself of her, not what he’d just seen. Her smile, warm and bright. the one that always lit up his insides. Her laugh, loud and light, as it echoed in his head. Her eyes, shining with mischief when she teased him. Her hair, soft and glossy, slipping through his fingers when she curled up against him.
But no matter how hard he tried, the memories couldn’t overpower the truth, couldn’t push away the image of her pale, bloodied body on that table.
“Please..." Katsuki whispered, his voice barely a breath. His throat burned, raw from shouting, but still, the words kept tumbling out like a prayer. "Please come back…”
“Kid...” Hawks’ voice was low, careful.
“They have to bring her back,” Katsuki mumbled, his gaze locked on the now-closed double doors. His voice cracked, hoarse and uneven. "They have to..."
He felt cold, not like the bite of winter wind or stepping into a cold shower. This was deeper. It crawled beneath his skin, chilling his bones and squeezing his chest so tightly he thought his ribs might break.
“They’re doing everything they can,” Hawks said quietly. His hand was still firm on Katsuki’s shoulder—steady, but grounding. “You need to let them do their job...”
Katsuki heard the words, but they went in one ear and out the other. His mind couldn’t focus on anything but those damn doors—the sterile white of them, the way they’d slammed shut after Hawks had dragged him out. He couldn’t stop imagining what was happening behind them—Rosie, motionless and cold, her blood still dripping onto the floor while the doctors worked frantically.
“Come back... just come back..." The words looped in his head like a broken record. His eyes blurred, and suddenly, the cold hallway seemed to shift.
He remembered Rosie, curled up in bed with him just the other day.
Her back was pressed against his chest, her hair splayed across the pillow. She had been half-asleep, murmuring something soft and unintelligible, her voice breathy and warm. His arm was slung over her waist, pulling her close, his fingers drawing lazy circles against her skin beneath her shirt.
“Stop that…” she mumbled sleepily, voice muffled by the pillow.
“What?” Katsuki grinned against her hair, deliberately trailing his fingers up her side.
“That...” she whined, squirming away from his hand. “I’m trying to sleep...”
“Yeah?” His grin widened. “This bothering you?”
His fingers moved faster, digging into her sides in quick, teasing jabs. Rosie let out a squeal, sharp and startled, before dissolving into breathless giggles. “Katsuki, no!” she shrieked, writhing in his arms as he tickled her. “Stop it!”
“Make me!” he shot back, tightening his grip as her laughter shook her whole body.
She twisted and squirmed, breathless giggles turning into shrill, helpless squeals. Her hands grabbed at his wrists, but she was too weak from laughing to put up much of a fight.
“Stop, stop, I give up!” she gasped between breaths, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.
“Nah, you’re too damn cute when you’re suffering,” Katsuki teased, though he loosened his grip just enough to let her roll over to face him.
Her face was flushed, pink dusting her cheeks and her nose. Her eyes shone bright and teary, her lips curled in a smile so wide it looked like it hurt. “You’re mean,” Rosie panted, her voice breathy and light.
“Yeah?” Katsuki murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. His fingers lingered against her cheek, tracing the warmth of her skin. “I’ll make it up to you…”
He leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her lips. She melted instantly, sighing softly as her fingers curled into his shirt.
“Adore you…” she mumbled against his mouth, her voice soft and sleepy.
“Yeah, I know...” Katsuki smirked, kissing her again. “You’re crazy about me...”
Rosie giggled against his lips, and he swore that sound was the best damn thing in the world.
Now, standing outside the surgery room, Katsuki pressed his fist to his mouth, biting back the sob threatening to break free.
He couldn’t lose her.
He couldn’t live in a world where Rosie wasn’t in it, couldn’t imagine mornings without her curling into his side, couldn’t picture coming home without her warm smile waiting for him.
He loved her. God, he loved her.
“Let’s go sit in the waiting room.” Hawks coaxed
It felt like hours before they were finally told that Rosie had been resuscitated. The words barely registered at first—"She's stable," "Out of surgery,” "Her quirk's doing most of the work..." He felt like his mind had short-circuited, stuck replaying those precious words over and over.
"She’s going to make it."
Katsuki had barely heard the part about her quirk's side effects—that she likely wouldn’t wake up for a couple of days. It didn’t matter. She was alive. That was all he cared about.
But sitting still in the waiting room became unbearable. The walls felt like they were closing in on him, the silence too heavy and suffocating. So he left, pacing aimlessly through the hospital halls until he found himself in the gift shop.
He stood there now, staring blankly at the shelves. Flowers? Chocolate? A card? Each option felt meaningless—too small, too insignificant.
He rubbed a hand down his face, biting the inside of his cheek to hold back the frustration building in his chest. What the hell am I even doing?
“You’ve changed.”
He stilled, shoulders tensing as he turned slowly to find Maerya standing behind him.
“Why are you still here?” he muttered, barely keeping his irritation in check.
She frowned but said nothing. Katsuki’s eyes drifted down—her clothes were still stained with blood. Not just hers... Rosie’s. Her face was a mess too—black eye, split lip, a gash on her cheek. Bruises littered her arms and neck.
“Is that her blood?” His voice came out quieter than he meant, almost a whisper.
“Yes,” Maerya swallowed thickly. “Akira needed help... to carry her out of the park. To stop the bleeding.”
He nodded slowly. The mental image hit him like a punch to the gut—Rosie, limp and pale, bleeding out in the grass. He forced himself to breathe through it.
“I’ve never seen you like that before,” Maerya said quietly. “So... angry. So desperate to get to her.” She sniffled, voice trembling. “The way your face fell when Akira told you... the way you ran... I’ve never seen you look like that before.” She swallowed hard. “You love her.”
Katsuki’s chest tightened, the truth settling in his bones like molten lead.
He did love Rosie.
He’d known it for a while now—felt it every time she laughed, every time she smiled at him like he was the best thing in her world. He loved her fiercely, completely... in a way that terrified him.
Before he could answer, Akira walked in, carrying two plastic bags. She stopped beside Maerya, face blotchy and tired, but still managing a small smile. “I brought you some clothes to change into,” Akira said, handing one of the bags to Maerya. “Seeing as you’re still covered in blood...”
“Thank you,” Maerya blinked, clearly surprised.
“No... thank you.” Akira’s voice wobbled, her eyes glistening as she coughed and tried to hold it together. “You helped save Rosie... and for that, I’ll always be grateful.” She bowed her head deeply, voice breaking on her next words. “Thank you... Maerya.”
Maerya’s face flushed, and she cleared her throat awkwardly. “Yeah... no problem.” Her voice softened. “Let’s get cleaned up, yeah?”
Katsuki watched them leave the gift shop arm in arm, dumbfounded. Just hours ago, those two were beating the shit out of one another. Now they were walking side by side like lifelong friends.
The way girls can just... do that... he thought with a shake of his head. He let out a breath and turned back to the shelves.
“Found you.”
Katsuki turned to see Hawks strolling into the shop, shoving his phone into his pocket. His wings stretched lazily behind him, feathers ruffling slightly.
“Came to tell you,” Hawks said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, “that you should really go home and shower. Just finished talking to her doctors—they won’t be letting anyone visit until tomorrow.”
Katsuki nodded stiffly, not trusting himself to speak.
“I’ve also assigned you to stay here and guard her,” Hawks added, rolling his shoulders with a lazy grin. “In case her attacker decides to come back and finish what they started.”
Katsuki’s fists clenched, “Where’s Aizawa?”
“On an assignment in Osaka,” Hawks replied with a sigh. “He won’t be here ‘til tomorrow night.”
Katsuki barely nodded before Hawks’ grin returned—sharp and playful. “Oh, and by the way...” Hawks gestured to the shelves Katsuki had been staring at. “If you’re trying to figure out what to get her... women usually like flowers. Pretty safe bet.” He gave a lazy shrug. “Then again... any boyfriend would know that.”
“I’m not her boyfriend,” Katsuki muttered flatly.
Hawks chuckled—a loud, genuine laugh that seemed far too light for the situation. “Yeah... sure you’re not.” He gave Katsuki’s shoulder a firm clap before turning away. “You’ve got an hour to get home, get cleaned up, and get back here.” He paused at the doorway, flashing a smirk over his shoulder. “Don’t be late.”
Katsuki scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. That damn bird is seriously pissing me off.
Staring at the hospital room door, Katsuki reached for the handle—only to stop, his fingers hovering just above the metal. His hand trembled slightly, and he swallowed thickly. For the first time since this nightmare had started, he felt like he could finally breathe—but it was shaky, uneven, like his lungs were still catching up with the weight of it all.
He exhaled slowly, gathering his courage before finally sliding the door open.
The room was dim, bathed in cool shades of silver and blue from the moonlight streaming in through the open window. The faint sound of monitors filled the air, soft, steady beeps that proved she was still alive, still breathing. His gaze immediately found her, and his chest clenched painfully.
Rosie lay still in the hospital bed, her face pale and framed by tousled strands of her hair. The moonlight kissed her skin, making her look almost ethereal—delicate and soft, like an angel too perfect for this world. If he hadn’t known better, he would’ve thought she was just sleeping, her face peaceful and calm.
But the sight of the bandages peeking out from beneath her hospital gown, the IV taped to her hand, the faint bruising along her collarbone, they shattered any illusion of peace. She had been hurt, and the sight of it made his stomach twist painfully.
Slowly, cautiously, Katsuki stepped closer, as if any sudden movement might break her. He moved to her side and lowered himself into the chair beside her bed. His hand twitched as he reached for her, unsure, hesitant. The back of his fingers ghosted over her cheek, a barely-there touch and he immediately recoiled. She was so cold. Too cold.
A low breath shuddered out of him, and without thinking, he grasped her hand instead. Her fingers felt fragile in his palm, her knuckles scraped and bruised, her skin chilled against his. Katsuki swallowed hard and sank to his knees beside the bed, never letting go of her hand. He brought her hand to his face, cradling it gently against his cheek. His eyes closed as he let out a shaky breath, pressing her palm firmly to his skin, trying to warm her. “You’re okay...” His voice cracked, barely a whisper. “You’re still here...”
His fingers tightened slightly, holding her like she might disappear if he let go. The steady rhythm of her heartbeat on the monitor seemed to thrum in time with his own—grounding him, anchoring him. “I thought...” His voice faltered, his breath hitching. “I thought I lost you.”
He pressed another kiss against her knuckles, lingering there for a moment before resting her hand against his face once more. “You scared the hell out of me,” he muttered. “Don’t ever... don’t ever do that again.”
His eyes lifted to her face to the soft curve of her lips, the faint rise and fall of her chest. His heart twisted painfully, overwhelmed with sheer relief. “You’re too damn stubborn to leave me behind, huh?” he whispered, his voice shaking despite his attempt to sound lighthearted.
His fingers stroked over her knuckles, slow, careful. “I’m here,” he murmured, like a promise. “I’m not going anywhere... so you better wake up soon, so I can take care of you.”
And for a long while, he just knelt there in the quiet, holding her hand and feeling her heartbeat steady beneath his fingertips, the proof that she was still alive, still his.
Katsuki stayed vigilant by her side, his gaze never leaving her face. All night and into the early morning hours, he remained rooted in place. Doctors and nurses came and went, checking her vitals and murmuring quiet reassurances before leaving again. Katsuki barely acknowledged them. He just kept watching Rosie—the steady rise and fall of her chest, the way her fingers twitched slightly when the nurses adjusted her IV.
When the first rays of sunlight crept through the window, they painted her face in soft gold, chasing away the cold paleness that had haunted her through the night. The light kissed her skin gently, bathing her in warmth, and for the first time since this nightmare had started, Katsuki felt like she was really here. Like maybe she was starting to make her way back to him.
The quiet knock at the door barely registered, but he forced himself to look away when Akira stepped inside. She was dressed in jeans and a warm sweater, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. A bag hung from her arm, and in her other hand, she carried a takeout bag.
“How is she?” Akira asked softly, her voice tired but hopeful.
“She hasn’t woken up yet,” Katsuki muttered, his fingers flexing slightly around Rosie’s hand.
Akira nodded, moving to set the bag down on the far side of the room. “I brought some stuff for her, when she finally wakes up.” Her voice faltered slightly, but she kept going. “I talked to the doctors too. They said she’ll probably wake up tonight… or tomorrow at the latest.”
Katsuki sighed heavily, dragging a hand through his hair. His fingers snagged on the tangles, but he barely noticed.
Akira lingered for a moment before setting the takeout bag down on the table. “Come eat breakfast with me,” she said, her tone softer now. “Hospital food sucks.”
He wanted to refuse. He didn’t want to leave Rosie’s side, not even for a second but the steady ache in his muscles and the gnawing pit of hunger in his stomach reminded him that he wasn’t doing anyone any good like this. He hesitated, then finally nodded. “Yeah… alright.”
He followed her to the small table and chairs by the window. He dropped into the seat heavily, still angled so he could keep Rosie in his sight. Akira set a steaming cup of black coffee in front of him, and he accepted it with a quiet, “Thanks.”
Wordlessly, she pushed a Styrofoam container toward him, already open to reveal warm rice, eggs, and grilled fish. He didn’t bother with small talk, just grabbed the chopsticks and started eating. Each bite was fast and automatic, his eyes flicking back to Rosie between every mouthful.
Akira didn’t say much either. She just quietly ate her own food, sparing occasional glances toward Rosie. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, it was grounding, steady. Katsuki appreciated it.
When his container was empty, Katsuki leaned back in his chair, still watching Rosie as she slept. His body ached, his limbs heavy with exhaustion. He knew Hawks would be expecting him to guard her again tonight, if he didn’t rest now, he wouldn’t last.
“You should get some sleep,” Akira murmured, her voice careful, like she knew what he was thinking. “I’ll stay with her, I swear.”
He clenched his jaw, debating. Every instinct screamed at him to stay, to keep his eyes on her until she opened her own. But the exhaustion was creeping in, the kind that left his thoughts sluggish and his body numb.
“You sure?” His voice was gruff, barely louder than a growl.
“I’m sure,” Akira said firmly. “I’ll wake you up if anything changes.”
Katsuki hesitated a beat longer before sighing deeply. He rose from the table, casting one last lingering look at Rosie. Moving back to her side, he bent down, brushing his fingers gently through her hair before pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “Be here when I wake up,” he muttered quietly against her skin.
Then, dragging his feet, Katsuki stumbled over to the couch by the wall. He collapsed onto it. His muscles melted into the cushions, exhaustion seeping into every bone. His eyes drifted back to Rosie one last time, the faint glow of sunlight still spilling over her like a soft halo before his vision blurred, and sleep finally claimed him.
He felt himself being shaken awake, a gentle but persistent hand gripping his shoulder. Katsuki’s eyes blinked open, heavy with sleep, and the blurry shape before him slowly sharpened into Akira’s face.
“Hey,” she said softly, her voice low and warm. “Sorry to wake you.”
Katsuki sat up immediately, instinctively glancing toward Rosie. She was still there, still unmoving, her chest rising and falling with faint, shallow breaths. Relief washed over him, but it didn’t ease the tight knot in his chest. He turned to the window next. The sky was dull and gray, rain streaking down the glass in thin rivulets. The soft tap-tap-tap of raindrops filled the silence.
“What time is it?” His voice was rough, gravelly from sleep.
“Four,” Akira said with a small smile. “The others are on their way to see her soon.”
Katsuki just nodded, stretching his stiff limbs before standing. His muscles ached from sleeping in the uncomfortable hospital chair, but none of that mattered. He moved back to Rosie’s side, sinking heavily into the chair beside her. His gaze stayed locked on her face, studying every detail—her pale cheeks, the faint bruising around her temple, her lips slightly parted as she breathed.
“She hasn’t moved at all,” he muttered quietly.
“She’s strong,” Akira said. “She’s just resting... like they said she would.”
Katsuki only nodded again, unable to look away from Rosie.
“I’m gonna head out for a bit,” Akira added. “I need to go take care of Maya, let her out and feed her. I’ll be back soon.”
“Yeah... okay,” Katsuki mumbled absently.
Akira lingered a moment longer before giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “She’s gonna be okay,” she whispered, like she believed it more than anything in the world.
Then she left, her footsteps fading down the hallway.
For a while, Katsuki just sat in silence. The steady beep of the heart monitor filled the room, soft and rhythmic. He counted the beats without meaning to, clinging to each one like it was a lifeline.
Twenty minutes passed. Maybe more.
He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there, but at some point, he reached out and took her hand in his. It was warm. He pressed her fingers to his cheek, closing his eyes and letting out a shaky breath.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he murmured. His voice cracked slightly, and he swallowed hard. “Don’t... don’t do that again. ”
Her fingers twitched.
His eyes shot open, and for a second, he thought he’d imagined it. But then her fingers flexed again— weak and slow, but undeniably real.
“Rosie?” Katsuki breathed, sitting up straighter.
Her eyelashes fluttered, her face scrunching slightly like she was stirring from a deep sleep. Then, slowly... painfully slowly... her eyes opened.
“Rosie...” Katsuki whispered, his heart thundering in his chest.
Her gaze wandered for a moment before it settled on him. She looked exhausted— her eyelids heavy, her face pale —but she smiled weakly, that same soft smile that never failed to steal his breath.
“Katsuki...” Her voice was hoarse and faint, barely above a whisper.
He couldn’t speak—couldn’t breathe—as something inside him broke. His chest caved in on itself, and before he could stop himself, he was wrapping his arms around her, gently tugging her against him, cradling her to him as he buried his face in her hair.
The tears came hard and fast—hot and relentless—as something inside Katsuki shattered. He couldn’t stop it, couldn’t hold it in even if he tried. His shoulders shook violently, his breath hitching and breaking as he clutched her like she’d disappear if he dared let go.
“I thought... I thought I lost you,” he choked out, his voice strangled and raw. His fingers dug into her back, desperate and trembling. “I couldn’t— I—” His words faltered, caught in a sob that tore from his chest.
His face was buried in her hair, warm and soft against his tear-streaked skin. He breathed her in like he was drowning and she was the air he’d been gasping for. Rainwater, berries, and roses, the scent that lingered in the air hours after she had been gone. He knew it all too well.
“I thought you were gone,” he rasped, his voice barely audible. “I—I couldn’t...” He pressed his forehead against her shoulder, his tears soaking into the hospital gown she wore. “I couldn’t stop seeing you... just lying there... all that blood... you were so cold...” His fingers curled tighter in the fabric of her gown, his body trembling against hers. “I didn’t know what to do... I didn’t know how to... I didn’t know how to keep going...”
He couldn’t stop. The words kept tumbling out, frantic and broken. “I was so scared. I kept thinking... if you... if you...” His breath caught again, his sobs ragged and sharp. “I can’t— I can’t do this without you... I can’t... I need you... I need you... ”
Rosie said nothing. She didn’t need to. She just wrapped her weak, trembling fingers in his hair, her nails dragging gently along his scalp, her touch soft and steady. She didn’t hush him or tell him to calm down. She didn’t try to stop the tears or the desperate, babbled confessions spilling from his lips.
She just held him.
His arms only tightened around her in response, pulling her impossibly closer like he was afraid she’d slip away if he loosened his grip even a little. His breath was hot and uneven against her neck, his tears dampening her skin.
“Katsuki,” Rosie whispered softly, her fingers combing through his hair again. “I’m here.”
“I thought I lost you,” he mumbled again, voice barely above a breath, his words shaky and slurred like he was drunk on grief. “I watched you die…fuck…I…”
“I’m here,” she said again, her voice warm and quiet.
And still, Katsuki clung to her, as if holding her tightly enough might somehow make up for the hours he'd spent thinking she was dead. As if holding her was the only way to make sure she stayed with him.
Notes:
Wow, I might go back and add the scenes that I took out but holy, I spent all morning writing this chapter and then my editing took a while because I didn't know how far I wanted to take this scene
I hope you guys loved this chapter because truly I kissed the brick lovingly before I threw it at you guys with yesterday's chapter. Will it be the last time she dies? Who knows? I haven't decided yet haha but trust me when I say this...there will be more death and high chance they will stay dead :)
Chapter 77: Would he look at her differently now, find her unattractive because of it?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie’s breath hitched, her vision blurring as she cupped Katsuki’s face between her trembling hands. He felt warm—so warm—against her palms, and she could still see the faint, dried tear tracts on his cheeks. The sight of him, so raw and vulnerable, made something deep inside her shatter.
“I…” Her voice cracked. She could barely get the words out.
Katsuki leaned into her touch, his eyes searching hers. “Doll, please…” His voice was rough, pleading. “I know you want to cry.”
And that was all it took.
A sob tore out of her throat, her entire body shaking as she collapsed against him. “I—I was so scared, Katsuki.” Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, desperate to anchor herself. “I—I felt it—I felt myself dying—” Her words choked off into a ragged sob.
Katsuki stiffened, but only for a second before his arms wrapped around her, strong and steady. “Rosie…”
“I tried to stay awake, I tried—I fought, I swear I did,” she cried, her voice growing higher, more frantic. “But it was cold, Katsuki, it was so cold and I—” She clutched at him tighter, her nails digging into his back. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
He held her closer, tucking his face into her hair as if he could shield her from the memory itself. “You’re here,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “You’re here with me, sweetheart.”
She shook her head against his chest, tears soaking into his shirt. “I’m sorry, Katsuki—I didn’t want to leave you—” Her breath came in gasps, her body wracked with sobs. “I didn’t—” She was trembling violently now, hysteria creeping into her voice. “I thought—I thought it was over, I thought I’d never get to see yo—”
Her words dissolved into desperate, incoherent babbling, her hands fisting into his clothes as if letting go would make her disappear.
Katsuki rocked her gently, running his hand up and down her back in slow, soothing motions. “Shh, doll,” he whispered, voice barely holding together. “I got you. I got you.”
But she couldn’t stop. The fear, the panic, the gut-wrenching terror of dying still clung to her, refusing to let go. “I—I was falling, Katsuki. It—it wasn’t dark like people say—it was just...empty. I could hear you, I could hear everything and I—”
Her voice cracked again, and she pressed her face deeper into his chest, soaking in the warmth of him, the solidness of him, the realness of him.
Katsuki buried his fingers in her hair, breathing heavily, his own tears threatening to spill again. “You’re safe,” he whispered. “You’re safe, Rosie.” His voice shook. “I’m right here. I won’t let anything happen to you ever again.”
She clung to him, gripping him like a lifeline, like if she let go, she’d slip back into that nothingness all over again. “Please don’t let me go,” she whimpered.
He squeezed her even tighter, as if to prove he never would. “Never,” he vowed, his breath warm against her temple. “Not in a million fuckin’ years.”
Dr. Merialeth stepped into the room, her white coat swaying slightly as she entered with a warm smile. “Well, well, you woke up ahead of schedule,” she noted, adjusting her glasses as she peered at Rosie. Her pointed ears twitched slightly, poking out from her short blue hair, as she glanced at the clipboard in her hands.
Then, she raised an eyebrow at the sight before her—Rosie slumped weakly against Katsuki’s chest, his arms still wrapped securely around her, his jaw tight. “Oh my, am I interrupting?” she teased lightly, amusement dancing in her eyes.
Rosie sniffled, her body still weak as she sluggishly tried to wipe her tears away with trembling fingers. “No,” she rasped, her voice rough and scratchy.
Katsuki didn’t move, his grip on her not loosening in the slightest, as his red eyes flicked up toward the doctor in clear reluctance.
Dr. Merialeth hummed, flipping through her notes. “I’d like to speak with Rosie alone for a moment. Just to check her vitals and make sure everything is stable.”
Katsuki scowled, his hold tightening for a split second. “Tch.” He glanced down at Rosie, eyes scanning her face as if silently asking if she was okay with that.
Rosie managed a weak nod.
With a reluctant grunt, he finally pulled away, though not before pressing his forehead against hers for a lingering moment. “I gotta call Hawks anyway,” he muttered, his voice rough with emotion he wasn’t used to showing. “I’ll be back soon.”
Rosie gave him a tired, reassuring smile as he hesitated one last time before forcing himself out of the room. Once the door shut, Dr. Merialeth turned back to her patient, her demeanor shifting back to professional as she moved to check her vitals. She worked quickly, scanning over Rosie’s chart while adjusting the wires attached to the machines monitoring her condition.
“How are you feeling?” she asked gently, wrapping a blood pressure cuff around Rosie’s arm.
Rosie swallowed, her throat still sore, but managed, “Tired. Sore.”
Dr. Merialeth hummed in understanding as she wrote something down on her clipboard. “That’s normal after what you’ve been through. You gave everyone quite a scare.”
Rosie swallowed at that but said nothing.
“Alright, let’s check your wound,” the doctor continued. “I’ll need you to lift your gown so I can see how it’s healing.”
Rosie hesitated, her hands shaking slightly as she reached down and slowly peeled back the bandages. Her breath hitched the moment she saw it—an ugly, small but jagged scar stretched across her side, the tissue still slightly raw and healing.
Her stomach twisted painfully.
It looked awful.
She bit her lip hard, barely holding back the whimper that threatened to escape. Would Katsuki think it was ugly? Would he look at her differently now, find her unattractive because of it?
She shoved the thought down as best as she could, though the insecurity lingered in the back of her mind like a poison.
Dr. Merialeth’s gaze was sharp as she examined the wound carefully, fingers pressing gently around it to check for swelling. “You’re healing well,” she said, nodding in approval. “Your quirk took care of most of the damage, but the stitches still need time to fully close. The wound punctured an organ, so even with your healing quirk, you’re going to need to take it easy.”
Rosie swallowed hard, forcing herself to nod.
Dr. Merialeth worked efficiently, reapplying fresh bandages with precise, practiced hands. “You’ll be staying in the hospital for two more days so we can monitor you,” she continued, her tone professional yet warm. “We need to make sure there’s no hemorrhaging or complications. You won’t be allowed to do anything strenuous for the next week. No overexerting yourself, no sudden movements, and definitely no sexual activities.”
Rosie’s entire body went rigid. Her face turned a shade of red so bright it rivaled the color of Katsuki’s gauntlets. “I—what?!” she sputtered, eyes wide with mortification.
Dr. Merialeth simply smirked, tapping her pen against the clipboard. “You heard me.”
“We haven’t— I mean, we’re just—” Rosie floundered, her words tripping over themselves as she struggled to form a coherent response. “We’re just friends!”
The doctor arched a perfectly shaped brow, clearly unimpressed with the excuse. “Really? Because from what I’ve seen, he’s hardly left your side, and the way he looks at you…” She chuckled. “That is not how ‘just friends’ behave.”
Rosie’s blush only deepened, her ears twitching in embarrassment as she fumbled with the edge of her blanket. “We’re not dating…” she mumbled weakly.
Dr. Merialeth hummed in amusement. “Could have fooled me.” She gave Rosie a reassuring smile before adjusting the blankets over her lap, her smirk never quite fading. “You’ve been through a lot, but you’re strong. You’ll be alright.”
Rosie nodded, though her thoughts were far from the doctor’s words of encouragement. Instead, her mind was stuck on something else entirely—the scar hidden beneath her bandages.
Would Katsuki still think she was beautiful?
The idea of him seeing it, of him touching her there, made her chest tighten. She clenched her fingers into the sheets, pushing the insecurity down deep where it wouldn’t show.
Just then, the door slid open.
Katsuki stepped inside, his expression guarded but his red eyes immediately locking onto Rosie like a magnet. In his hands, he carried a vase—a stunning arrangement of roses, peonies, and carnations nestled together in soft, vibrant hues.
Dr. Merialeth barely hid her smirk. “Perfect timing,” she said smoothly before handing Rosie’s chart to a nurse. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
Rosie, still recovering from her embarrassment, could only manage a small nod as the doctor swept out of the room, her pointed ears twitching in amusement as she shut the door behind her.
Katsuki grumbled under his breath as he walked over, carefully placing the vase on the bedside table before sitting down beside her. “Tch. That damn doctor was smirkin’ at me when I passed her. What the hell was that about?”
Rosie, still flustered beyond belief, cleared her throat. “Nothing! Um—thank you for the flowers. They’re really pretty.”
His gaze softened, just slightly, at the appreciation in her voice. “Yeah, well… figured you’d like ‘em.”
She smiled, reaching out to touch one of the soft petals. Then, she turned to him, expression growing a little more serious. “She told me I’ll be staying here for two days,” she murmured. “And that I need to take it easy for the next week since my stitches still need time to heal.”
He nodded, taking in the information. “Good. Means you’ll be monitored.”
She hesitated, biting her lip, but forced herself to continue. “And, um… she also said—” Rosie flushed, looking away. “She said I… can’t do any, um, sexual activities”
For a moment, there was silence.
Then, Katsuki let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Pfft—what the hell kinda way is that to say it?”
Rosie groaned, covering her face with her hands. “You’re embarrassing me.”
Katsuki smirked, clearly amused, his voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “So what? You worried I was plannin’ on jumpin’ you the second you woke up?”
“Katsuki!” Rosie whined, smacking his arm, her ears burning.
His smirk widened as he leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to her cheek before letting his forehead rest against hers. “Tch. Not like I’m gonna let you do anything that’ll make you worse, dumbass.” His hand found hers, fingers threading together gently. “You’re stayin’ right here, and I’m gonna make damn sure you get better. Got it?”
Rosie’s blush softened into something warm—something tender. She squeezed his hand back. “Got it.”
The moment of warmth between them was cut short by the sound of hurried footsteps and excited chatter just outside the door. Before Rosie could brace herself, the door burst open with a loud BANG as her friends flooded into the room.
"ROSIE!"
The girls—Momo, Mina, Jirou, Toru and Uraraka—practically launched themselves forward, arms wide as if they were about to tackle her in a group hug.
They didn’t get the chance.
A sharp, guttural growl cut through the air. “OI! BACK THE HELL UP!”
The girls froze mid-step, eyes snapping to Katsuki, who stood protectively in front of Rosie’s bed, his red eyes blazing with barely contained rage. “She just woke up! Don’t be rough with her, or you’ll rip her damn stitches open!” He jabbed a finger at them accusingly. “And don’t go overwhelming her either—her body’s still recoverin’!”
The room went silent for a beat before Mina let out a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of her head. “Jeez, Bakugou, we weren’t gonna tackle her…”
“Yeah, we just wanted to hug her,” Uraraka pouted.
Jirou smirked. “Man, you’re so whipped.”
Katsuki’s scowl deepened. “What did you just say?!”
Rosie giggled softly, reaching for Katsuki’s hand to calm him. “It’s okay,” she reassured him. “I’m happy to see them.”
He grumbled under his breath but finally stepped aside, though he still looked wary as the girls carefully leaned in to give Rosie gentle hugs, making sure not to jostle her too much.
After the initial excitement settled, everyone made themselves comfortable around the room. Kirishima pulled a chair up beside her bed, grinning brightly. “Man, you gave us a hell of a scare, Rosie. I think we all aged ten years.”
Sero nodded, perched on the windowsill. “No kidding. When we heard what happened, we all just about lost our minds.”
Denki, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, exhaled dramatically. “I was so ready to throw hands, but Hawks said we couldn’t interfere with the investigation.”
Rosie smiled softly, her heart warm from their concern. “I’m sorry I scared you guys.”
Momo reached out, squeezing her hand. “Don’t apologize. We’re just relieved you’re okay.”
As her friends talked, laughed, and filled the room with warmth, Rosie’s gaze kept drifting toward Katsuki.
He hadn’t sat down once.
Instead, he stood by the wall, arms crossed, his scowl deep and unmoving as he observed everyone with a watchful gaze. Even as his friends spoke, he barely contributed, only offering short grunts or nods.
Rosie couldn’t help but watch him, her lips pressing together to suppress the amused smile that threatened to break through.
Katsuki stood stiffly by the wall, arms crossed so tightly it was a wonder he hadn’t crushed his own biceps. His red eyes flickered toward her every few minutes, scanning her face, checking her posture—hyper-aware of any sign of discomfort, exhaustion, or pain. He was pretending to be aloof, but she saw right through him.
He was still so worried.
Even now, surrounded by their friends, Katsuki remained standing—like a guard dog, tense and alert, ready to snap at anyone who so much as breathed wrong in her direction. His scowl was practically permanent at this point.
She exhaled softly, her gaze warm. He looked like a little angry pomchi—all bark, but so incredibly protective and loyal that it made her chest ache.
“Can we get you anything?” Momo asked, leaning in with a gentle smile.
“Water,” Rosie answered, only to blush as her stomach loudly protested its hunger. “…And, uh, food,” she added sheepishly.
Mina gasped dramatically. “Why didn’t you say so sooner?! We’ll get you something amazing!”
“I’ll go with you,” Uraraka chimed in, already turning to grab her wallet.
But before they could even take a step, the chair Katsuki had been leaning against scraped across the floor as he pushed off the wall. Without a single word, he turned on his heel and strode out the door.
“…Or he’ll do it,” Jirou muttered, raising an eyebrow.
Rosie blinked after him, warmth spreading through her chest. He was always like this—acting like he didn’t care while caring the most.
“Man, she got him whipped,” Denki whispered to Kirishima, who just grinned knowingly.
Before Rosie could dwell on it, more of their friends arrived, filling the room with fresh energy. Sato and Tokoyami walked in first, both carrying small gift bags. Behind them, Shoji and Ojiro followed, their arms full of flowers, candy, and other little gifts.
“Sorry we’re late,” Tokoyami said smoothly, placing a bouquet of purple lilies and roses beside the ones Katsuki had brought earlier.
Sato grinned, holding out a small box wrapped neatly in ribbon. “I made you some pastries. Figured you could use something sweet after all that hospital food.”
Rosie beamed at them, her heart swelling. “You guys didn’t have to do all this…”
“Of course we did,” Ojiro said, setting down a small stuffed rabbit on her bedside table. “You scared us half to death, Rosie.”
Shoji nodded, his voice kind but firm. “We wanted to make sure you knew how much we care.”
Her throat tightened with emotion as they all came up, one by one, to carefully hug her or pat her hand. She thanked each of them, touched beyond words by their kindness.
By the time Katsuki returned, Rosie was sitting up in bed, happily nibbling on one of Sato’s pastries while sipping water. She was listening to Mina animatedly describe a brilliant idea.
“—so obviously, since we all almost died of stress this week, I think we need to have a massive sleepover,” Mina declared. “Like, everyone brings snacks, we stay up super late, play games, maybe watch some movies…”
“Sounds fun,” Kirishima grinned. “We could even do it at our place. I’ve got space.”
“Or mine,” Momo offered. “Whichever works best.”
“Tch.” The grumble caught Rosie’s attention just as Katsuki walked back into the room, carrying a tray of food. He shot Mina a suspicious glance before setting the food down beside Rosie.
“Don’t even think about dragin’ her into some stupid all-nighter,” he grumbled. “She needs rest.”
Mina just smirked. “Awww, Bakugo, are you saying you don’t want to cuddle up at a sleepover with your favorite person?”
Katsuki’s scowl deepened. “I will kill you.”
Rosie giggled softly, her gaze warm as she looked at him—still standing, still watching over her, still him.
As the sun dipped lower into the horizon, painting the sky in soft hues of orange and purple, Rosie sat up in bed, her gaze fixed on the window. The warm colors did little to soothe the storm in her chest.
Everyone’s visit had been a welcome distraction, filling her hospital room with laughter and warmth, but now that they were gone, silence settled over her like a heavy weight.
And in that silence, the memories came rushing back.
The way the air had shifted before she even saw him. The dark intensity in his stare. The malice in his voice.
The pain.
A shiver ran down her spine as her fingers instinctively curled against the blanket.
She barely had time to brace herself before the door opened again, this time revealing two figures—Hawks, his usual easygoing demeanor absent, and her father, his expression unreadable. Even if Aizawa’s face gave away nothing, she knew him too well. She saw the tension in the way his shoulders squared, in the way his sharp eyes scanned her, assessing, as if looking for something he could fix. He was furious.
“Sorry to drop in so late,” Hawks muttered as he stepped inside, running a hand through his windswept blond hair. His wings fluttered briefly, the only sign of his irritation. “It’s been a busy day, and this was the only free time I had to come see you.”
“Sunshine,” Aizawa’s voice was low and gruff as he walked toward her. His hero uniform was still on, the familiar scarf draped over his shoulders. He looked exhausted, dark circles prominent under his eyes, but he was here.
He always was.
Rosie managed a small smile, but it faltered quickly when Hawks pulled up a chair beside her bed, his expression uncharacteristically serious.
“I need you to tell me about your attacker.”
Her throat tightened.
She knew this conversation was coming—of course it was—but that didn’t make it any easier. Swallowing, she exhaled shakily. “He… he came out of nowhere.” Her voice was quiet, but the weight of those words pressed heavy against her ribs. She clenched the blanket beneath her fingers, staring down at her lap as she forced herself to recall every detail. “I didn’t recognize him,” she whispered.
Hawks gave a slow nod, his gaze sharp and unwavering.
Rosie’s fingers twitched, her heartbeat quickening. “He… he didn’t just attack me. He knew things. He talked about my mother.”
She could still hear his voice, taunting, cruel.
“You know,” he whispered, “it’s uncanny... how much you look like her.”
Rosie stiffened. “Like who?”
“Your mother,” he said, voice laced with cruel amusement. “That sorry excuse for a woman.”
“When I get my hands on you,” he continued, his tone sickly sweet, “you’ll die just like she did. And I’ll make it look like a freak accident too.”
Terror clutched her chest like a vice. “Who are you?” Rosie demanded, but her voice wavered.
“Just a man with unfinished business,” he said casually— and before she could blink, his hand shot out.
A breath shuddered from her lips at the memory, and before she could stop herself, her hand moved to her side, fingers pressing against the bandages. A phantom pain bloomed there, like she could still feel the blade sinking into her flesh.
She sucked in a sharp breath, her vision blurring. “He—he stabbed me,” she choked out, her fingers trembling against the fabric of the hospital gown. “And then he just—disappeared in a puff of black smoke. One second he was there, and then he wasn’t.”
A sob tore from her throat, sudden and raw, and she couldn’t hold it back anymore. Tears spilled freely as she clutched at her wound, burying her face in her hands. A warm hand landed on her shoulder—Dad’s. His touch was steady, grounding.
She sniffled, lifting her teary gaze to him. Her voice was small, broken. “They said it was an accident… but he said that he…” She trailed off, hiccupping, her chest heaving. “He said that he’ll get me, make it look like a freak accident too like…Mum…”
Her father’s expression darkened, his grip on her shoulder tightening just slightly.
Hawks exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples, the tension evident in the way his wings twitched. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice unusually heavy. “I was afraid of that.”
Rosie wiped at her face, her breaths shaky. A deep pit of unease settled in her stomach, twisting tighter with every passing second. “He wasn’t just some random villain, was he?”
Aizawa’s gaze darkened, his sharp eyes narrowing. “No,” he confirmed grimly. “He was there for you. There’s a high possibility that he followed you from America.”
Her entire body stiffened. The air in the room felt suffocating, heavy with something unspoken yet undeniable.
Followed her.
From America.
The realization settled over her like ice-cold water being poured down her spine. She swallowed hard, her throat painfully dry, but the lump that had formed refused to go away. Her hands clenched into the thin hospital blanket as the weight of everything pressed down on her chest.
Her mother’s death.
The attack.
It was all connected.
A broken sob escaped her before she could stop it. Her body moved on instinct, seeking comfort the only way it knew how—by burying herself into her father’s shoulder, grasping onto him like a child desperate for protection. Aizawa didn’t hesitate. He wrapped an arm around her, his embrace firm, strong, steady.
Hawks gave them a moment before clearing his throat, his voice more serious than she had ever heard it. “I suggest that we keep you under watch, with Dynamite acting as your bodyguard for the time being.”
Rosie barely registered the words, still shaking in her father’s hold, but she felt Katsuki’s presence before she even looked up. He was standing stiffly beside her bed, arms crossed tightly, his jaw locked as he listened intently.
“The DNA from the knife is still being tested for possible fingerprints, but until then, we don’t have any solid leads,” Hawks continued. His golden eyes darkened slightly. “But if he did follow you from America, and if he did have a hand in your mother’s death, then we’ll have to reopen her case and investigate the circumstances surrounding it.”
Aizawa’s hold on her tightened just slightly. His voice, when he spoke, was unwavering. “You’ll need my authorization for that.”
Hawks nodded. “You being her next of kin, yeah. You’ll have to sign off on the request so we can get access to the files.”
“I’ll do it tonight.”
Rosie felt exhaustion creeping up on her like a thick fog. Her body was tired, weak from healing, but the emotional toll of everything was heavier than anything else. The words around her started to blur, fading into background noise as her head leaned against her father’s chest.
Aizawa glanced down at her, feeling her small, tired movements. “She’s passing out,” he murmured, his voice quieter now.
Katsuki immediately stepped forward, eyes scanning her pale, exhausted face. “She hasn’t slept much since she woke up.”
“She needs it,” Hawks added, watching as her breathing evened out.
Aizawa carefully adjusted his hold on her, lowering her back against the pillows, and Katsuki instinctively moved the blanket higher up, ensuring she was warm. They watched her for a moment longer, the conversation momentarily forgotten.
“She’s gonna be okay,” Hawks murmured, though it sounded more like he was reassuring himself.
Katsuki’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He gave a sharp nod, his voice low. “Damn right, she is.”
The sun was warm against Rosie’s skin as she stepped out of the hospital doors, taking in a deep breath of fresh air. It felt surreal to be outside again after being stuck in a hospital bed for days, but she was grateful. Finally, she was going home.
Nearby, Akira and Katsuki were carrying all the gifts and flowers she had received, both of them balancing bags and vases awkwardly as they made their way toward his car. Rosie smiled, watching them bicker as they carefully loaded everything into the trunk.
“Oi, be careful with that one,” Katsuki grumbled, glaring as Akira haphazardly placed a bag down. “It’s got glass in it, dumbass.”
“Oh, excuse me, Mr. Explody Hands,” Akira shot back, rolling her eyes. “At least I’m not chucking everything into the trunk like a barbarian.”
Katsuki scowled. “I ain’t chuckin’ anything, I’m bein’ efficient.”
Rosie let out a soft laugh, watching them with amused eyes. She climbed into the passenger seat carefully, mindful of her stitches. Once they were on the road, she glanced at them curiously.
“Can we stop at the grocery store?” she asked.
Akira turned in her seat with a smirk. “Nope.”
Rosie blinked. “What? Why not?”
Akira grinned. “Because we already went.”
Rosie’s brows raised slightly, a playful lilt in her voice. “You two went to the grocery store together?”
Katsuki groaned from the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. “It was hell.”
Akira scoffed. “It was not hell. You’re just impatient.”
“The hell it wasn’t,” Katsuki snapped. “Took forever. You kept stoppin’ to look at random shit we didn’t need.”
“It’s called browsing, Katsuki.” Akira huffed. “Maybe if you tried it sometime, you wouldn’t be so grumpy all the time.”
“I ain’t grumpy!”
“You literally growled at an old lady for walking too slow in front of us.”
Rosie clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh.
“She was blocking the whole damn aisle!” Katsuki snapped, his knuckles tightening on the wheel.
“She was eighty, you menace.” Akira shot back, shaking her head.
Rosie couldn’t hold it in any longer—she burst into laughter, clutching her stomach as their bickering continued. “You two are ridiculous,” she managed between giggles.
Katsuki scowled, glancing at her as he moved to grab her hand. “You try shoppin’ with her, then tell me how fun it is.”
Akira smirked. “Oh please, you secretly had a great time.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure.”
Rosie grinned, watching them go back and forth the entire ride home. And for the first time in days, she felt lighter—like, maybe, everything was going to be okay.
As soon as they stepped into Rosie’s apartment, the sound of tiny paws skidding across the floor reached her ears.
Maya, her small poodle, came barreling toward her, yipping excitedly as she jumped up on her legs, tail wagging furiously.
“Hey, baby,” Rosie cooed, bending carefully to scoop her up, mindful of her stitches. Maya nuzzled into her chest immediately, whining as if scolding her for being gone so long.
Akira smirked. “You’ve been missed.”
Rosie laughed softly, pressing her face into Maya’s curly fur. “I missed you too, sweet girl.”
As she cradled the poodle, Akira crossed her arms. “So, what do you wanna do first? You’ve got options: eat, sleep, shower—”
“Shower,” Rosie sighed, leaning against the back of the couch. “Then eat. Then sleep.”
“I’ll make you somethin’,” Katsuki said immediately, already kicking off his shoes and heading toward the kitchen like he owned the place.
Akira snorted. “Wow, look at you, all domestic.”
“Shut the hell up,” Katsuki shot back, but there was no real bite behind it.
Akira grinned before turning to Rosie. “I’ll find your meds, make sure everything’s set up for you.”
Rosie smiled at them both, warmth swelling in her chest. “Thanks, guys.”
With that, she set Maya down, scratching her head one last time before making her way toward the bathroom.
The hot water was a blessing.
Rosie stood under the showerhead, letting the warmth ease the tension in her sore muscles. The past two days had been a blur of pain, exhaustion, and anxiety, but here—under the steady stream of water—she could finally breathe.
Her fingers ghosted over the fresh bandages covering her wound. The scar beneath still felt foreign, a reminder of everything that had happened.
But she was alive.
And right now, that was enough.
When she finally stepped out, wrapped in a towel, she felt human again. The smell of food filled the apartment, and her stomach growled in response.
She padded into the kitchen, where Katsuki was plating up a bowl of rice and grilled chicken. He glanced up, immediately scanning her face, checking to see if she was alright.
“Go sit,” he grumbled, jerking his head toward the couch. “I’ll bring it over.”
Rosie didn’t argue.
Akira was already sitting on the couch, shaking out her pain meds from the bottle. “Here,” she said, handing them over. “Take these after you eat.”
Rosie nodded, plopping down between them as Katsuki came over, setting the plate and a glass of water in front of her. It didn’t take long to finish her food—she was starving—and after downing her meds, she melted into the cushions.
“Alright,” Akira stretched, grabbing the remote. “We’re watching a movie, but I’m picking it.”
Katsuki scowled. “As long as it ain’t some dumb rom-com.”
Akira smirked. “No promises.”
Rosie laughed softly, curling up between them. Maya had already climbed into her lap, circling a few times before settling in, her tiny body warm against Rosie’s stomach.
As the movie started, the weight of exhaustion pulled at her. She barely made it past the opening scene before her eyes drooped, her body sinking further into the warmth of her two best friends.
Safe.
Loved.
She let herself fall asleep.
Notes:
Ahhh, so I genuinely feel bad for Rosie and I will give her a break for the next couple of chapters...:) im lying...or am I??? Anyway sorry for the late chapter, I went to get my nails done today and I forgot how much of a bitch it is to type with nails smh
Chapter 78: She's not a rat
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie lay curled up on the couch, wrapped in a thick blanket, staring blankly at the television screen. Some movie played—one she had picked, but hadn’t really paid attention to. The sounds blended together, just noise to fill the quiet. She hated this. It had only been a couple of days since she was discharged from the hospital, but she already felt like she was losing her mind. Being stuck in her apartment, doing nothing but resting—it was suffocating.
At first, she had welcomed it. Her body had been exhausted, her stitches sore, and every movement had reminded her of the wound carved into her abdomen. But now? Now, she was tired of laying around, of feeling fragile, of being watched like she was made of glass.
Her fingers clenched around the blanket. She knew Akira was only staying because of her—had extended her trip, put her life in America on hold. And even though Akira insisted that school and work could wait, the guilt still gnawed at her.
But Rosie wasn’t stupid. She knew Akira carried her own guilt too. She had been right there when Rosie was stabbed, just a few feet away. That kind of helplessness weighed heavy.
A sigh left her lips as she burrowed deeper into the blanket, frustration simmering beneath the surface.
She was restless. She was bored. She felt stuck.
“Are you hungry?”
Rosie blinked, looking up as Akira walked into the living room, her hair wrapped in a towel, fresh from the shower. “No,” she muttered.
Akira bit her lip, hesitating. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, I’m fine.”
She wasn’t. She was itching to leave, to step outside, to feel the sun on her skin instead of being wrapped up in this blanket, doing nothing. But what was she supposed to say? That she felt like a caged animal? That she was envious of Akira for going out tonight, for doing something normal while she was stuck here, recovering?
Akira shifted on her feet, clearly unsure of what to say next. Then, after a moment, she finally turned and disappeared into the bathroom.
Rosie exhaled, slumping further into the couch.
An hour passed. When Akira reappeared, she was dressed in a stunning strapless blue leather dress, her heels clicking against the floor as she adjusted the delicate pins in her curled hair. She looked radiant—alive.
Rosie swallowed back the envy curling in her throat. “You look gorgeous,” she said, managing a small smile.
Akira grinned, striking a playful pose. “I’m a total babe.”
Rosie huffed a quiet laugh.
“Katsuki will be here soon,” Akira added, grabbing her clutch.
Rosie simply nodded. She wanted to tell her to have fun. To remind her that she should be going out, that she didn’t have to feel guilty for living her life. But there was a part of her that ached—because she wanted to go out too.
Instead, she plastered on a smile and waved her off. “Have a great time.”
Akira gave her one last searching look before heading out the door, and Rosie sighed the moment it clicked shut.
The silence was unbearable. She sat there for a moment, gripping the edges of the blanket before finally throwing it off. Screw this. If she was going to be stuck here, she was at least going to shower. Maybe the hot water would wash away this restless energy.
Dragging herself off the couch, she made her way toward the bathroom, flicking the light on. She had just reached for the hem of her hoodie when the front door opened.
She jumped slightly, her ears twitching at the familiar heavy footsteps, “oi.”
Rosie turned, peeking out of the bathroom doorway to see Katsuki standing in her apartment, arms crossed, already looking at her like he knew.
She blinked. “You’re early.”
“Yeah, well,” he grunted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hurry up and get ready.”
Rosie arched a brow, amused by how casual he was acting—like he wasn’t dragging her out of the apartment because he could tell she was going stir-crazy. But she didn’t argue.
Instead, she disappeared into the bathroom, letting the warm spray of the shower wash over her. The heat soothed her sore muscles, easing the lingering aches from the hospital stay. She took her time, careful not to move too much, not to strain her stitches.
Once she was dry, she brushed out her hair, running the towel over the ends before slipping into a soft sweater and a pair of leggings. Nothing too tight—she didn’t want to aggravate her wound.
When she stepped back into the living room, Katsuki was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his red eyes flicking up to meet hers. His gaze lingered, scanning her quickly, like he was making sure she wasn’t pushing herself too hard.
“Where are we going?” she asked, slipping on her shoes.
He scoffed. “Dinner first. Then a walk.” His eyes flicked toward Maya, who sat at Rosie’s feet, wagging her tail expectantly. “Bring the rat. You’re not the only one who needs fresh air.”
Rosie smirked. “She’s not a rat.”
Katsuki just grunted, already grabbing his jacket.
The cool night air brushed against her skin as they sat side by side on a bench at the dog park, steaming boxes of yakisoba in their hands. Rosie twirled her chopsticks, lifting a bite to her mouth as she watched Maya run wildly through the grass, yipping excitedly as she chased after a much larger golden retriever.
“She acts like she’s ten times her size,” Rosie mused, chewing thoughtfully.
“Tch. Wonder where she gets that from,” Katsuki muttered, shoveling a large bite into his mouth.
Rosie snorted, nudging him with her elbow. “Are you saying I have a small dog complex?”
He smirked, barely looking at her. “You said it, not me.”
She rolled her eyes but let it slide, focusing instead on the peaceful atmosphere around them. The park was quiet, only a few other dog owners lingering around, chatting as their pets played. The distant sound of city traffic hummed in the background, but here, in this little pocket of space, it felt calm.
She sighed, resting her chopsticks against the edge of her box. “I missed this.”
Katsuki glanced at her. “What?”
“Just… being outside. Doing something normal.” She exhaled slowly. “I was going crazy being locked up in my apartment.”
His jaw tightened slightly, but he didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he reached into the bag beside him, pulled out a canned drink, and handed it to her.
“Yeah,” he muttered after a moment. “Figured you were.”
She took the can, a small smile tugging at her lips. He was never one to admit things outright, but she could hear it—the concern laced in his voice, the way he had known exactly what she needed before she even said anything.
Rosie turned her gaze back to Maya, who had now rolled onto her back, paws flailing as the golden retriever sniffed at her. “Thanks,” she said softly.
Katsuki just grunted, stuffing more yakisoba into his mouth.
They sat there, eating in comfortable silence, watching as Maya ran around without a care in the world. And for the first time in days, Rosie finally felt like herself again.
The early November morning was crisp, the kind of cold that burrowed deep into her bones no matter how many layers she wore. Rosie let out a slow breath, watching as it curled into the air in a soft white cloud before dissipating into the chill. Even with a large coffee cup warming her hands, the cold still nipped at her fingertips, seeping through her gloves like it was determined to make her miserable.
She pulled her scarf higher, burying half of her face into it in a desperate attempt to cling to what little warmth she could find.
Beside her, Katsuki walked with his hands stuffed in his pockets, his gaze flicking toward her every so often with barely concealed irritation. “Are you sure you don’t need another jacket?” he grumbled.
“I’m alright, truly,” she murmured around a yawn, taking a slow sip of her coffee.
Katsuki scoffed. “You look like you’re two seconds from freezing to death.”
Rosie only hummed, pressing closer to his side as they walked toward the quad. The warm scent of street food drifted through the air, mingling with the distant sound of students chattering and laughing as they gathered around picnic tables and benches. The sun barely peeked through the thinning trees, casting a pale golden light over the campus, but it did little to fight off the biting cold.
Finding a table near the center of the quad, they sat down, Rosie sighing as she cupped her coffee in both hands. Katsuki set their food down—a couple of warm, foil-wrapped onigiri and some yakitori skewers. He handed her one of the skewers without a word, and she smiled softly at the quiet way he always took care of her.
As they settled in to eat, the sound of approaching footsteps made Rosie glance up.
Standing a few feet away was Maerya.
Her long black hair was pulled into a low ponytail, her amber eyes fixed on Rosie with an expression that was both hesitant and resolute. For a moment, she just stood there, shifting on her feet as if debating whether or not to speak. Then, with a quiet inhale, she took a step forward.
“Katsuki,” she greeted, her voice soft but steady. Then, her gaze shifted to Rosie. “Rosie.”
Rosie blinked in surprise but sat up straighter. She hadn’t seen Maerya much since… everything happened.
“I wanted to say something,” Maerya continued, clasping her hands in front of her. “I owe you an apology. I was cruel to you, and I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have.” Her gaze flickered downward briefly before she met Rosie’s eyes again. “I just wanted you to know that I regret it. And I won’t bother you both anymore.”
Rosie felt a small pang in her chest at the words. She studied Maerya for a moment, noting the sincerity in her expression.
Then, with a gentle smile, Rosie shook her head. “Thank you for helping save my life,” she said, her voice warm and genuine. “And for that, I’d like for us to start over.” Her smile grew as she added, “Akira tells me that you’re a kind woman.”
Maerya’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. Before she could say anything, Rosie stood and, without hesitation, wrapped her arms around her. Maerya stiffened for half a second before slowly relaxing into the embrace.
When Rosie pulled away, she gave Maerya one last reassuring smile. “No more bad blood, yeah?”
Maerya let out a breath, a small but relieved smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah.”
From the table, Katsuki scoffed. “Tch. Coulda just led with that instead of making it all dramatic.”
Rosie rolled her eyes but didn’t let his gruffness ruin the moment. As Maerya gave her one last nod and turned to leave, Rosie sat back down, feeling lighter than she had in days.
She glanced at Katsuki, who was watching her with an unreadable expression, before he shoved a yakitori skewer into her hands. “Eat.”
Rosie laughed, nudging him with her elbow before happily taking a bite.
“Omg I knew you guys would be here!” Mina smiled as she rushed in with Kirishima following her along with Kaminari.
“Hey,” Rosie smiled.
“What do you want raccoon eyes?”
“I think that we should go to the Hot Springs Resort this weekend,” Mina smiled.
“I can’t,” Rosie stated. “I have classes to catch up on.”
“We can go next month then, after exams!” Mina clapped her hands. “It’ll be so much fun!”
“I’d like that,” Rosie smiled.
After getting her stitches removed, Rosie had been able to put in her two weeks notice before she started her new job at Ignis Inferno. Katsuki and the band also started working there after Mina and Kirishima put in a good word for them to Miyaki, the owner, who had all been too excited for them to join the setlist. With Katsuki being her bodyguard, he had to be at her side at all times which Rosie didn’t mind, but what she did mind was her boyfriend going back to treating her like a glass doll.
She sat in the dressing room, taking her time to finish her makeup. The club would be opening soon, she adjusted her corset top before standing from the chair and giving herself a once over.
Miyaki had another costume made for her, one very similar to the one she wore before. It is a sparkling pink and white burlesque costume that hugged every curve. The corset-style bodice shimmered with rhinestones, the lace accentuating her waist before flaring into white short, ruffled bloomers that teased the tops of her thighs. White thigh-high stockings hugged her legs and held up by the white garters, finished with pink satin bows, and her heels made her legs look impossibly long.
“Rosie are you ready?” One of the other girls rushed in in a similar outfit but a soft blue and white, her name was Varsas. Her tan skin covered in silver glitter, her eyes glowing, as her fiery red hair is braided into a crown.
“Yeah,” she frowned. “I can’t find my glitter spray.”
“Just use mine,” then she dipped out of the large dressing room.
Moving to Varsas’ vanity, she grabbed her glitter spray and sprayed it all over her hair, her collarbone and cleavage. Setting the can back down, Rosie touched up her pink lipstick before putting strawberry gloss over it. With one final touch, she flicked her hair over her shoulder and turned on her heel, making her way toward the red-lit hallway. Her heels clicked against the polished floors, the distant hum of chatter and clinking glasses already filling the club as the doors opened to the public.
Just outside the dressing rooms, she met up with the other girls, each dressed in a variation of her own burlesque-style costume, dazzling in different colors. Varsas, ever radiant in soft blue and silver, was stretching her arms over her head, making her muscles flex beneath her sun-kissed skin. Haruhi, adorned in golden yellow, adjusted the garters on her thigh-highs while Yun, graceful in lilac, twirled a strand of hair around her fingers. Rina, in striking green, fixed the last of her ribbons, a playful smirk on her lips.
“Showtime, ladies,” Varsas grinned, wiggling her brows.
Rosie took a deep breath, shaking out her nerves. This wasn’t her first performance, but after everything that had happened, it felt like a fresh start. And damn if she wasn’t going to make the most of it.
The moment the stage lights dimmed, the chatter in the club softened. A hush of anticipation settled over the crowd before the deep, sultry beat of a jazzed-up swing track filled the air.
The heavy red curtains were drawn back, revealing the five of them standing in a line, striking a pose as the golden glow of the spotlights hit them. The audience erupted into cheers and applause.
Then, in perfect unison, they moved.
The choreography was playful and flirtatious, full of exaggerated hip swings, slow, teasing glove removals, and delicate shimmies that made their sequins and glitter catch the light. Rosie twirled on her heel, her white ruffled bloomers just barely peeking beneath her corset as she spun. The other girls mirrored her movements, and together, they worked the stage with effortless grace.
The routine was meant to be comedic as much as it was suggestive.
At one point, Rina pretended to stumble, only for Yun to dramatically ‘catch’ her, earning amused whistles from the audience. Haruhi playfully wagged a finger at someone in the front row, shaking her hips as if to scold them for looking too long. Rosie smirked as she lifted her garter-clad leg onto a chair at the center of the stage, bending forward ever so slightly before twirling away at the last second.
The energy in the club was electric.
As the tempo of the song picked up, the girls moved off the stage, stepping onto the main floor with the spotlights following them. They weaved through the audience, swaying and teasing, engaging with the patrons without ever breaking the flirtatious boundary they had perfected.
Rosie found herself near the bar, spinning gracefully before letting her hand trail over the shoulder of an older gentleman, who chuckled into his drink.
Not far from her, Varsas dipped low near one of the tables, giving a playful wink to a blushing patron.
Rosie turned, her gaze scanning the crowd until she caught sight of him.
Katsuki.
Standing near the back of the club, arms crossed over his broad chest, his crimson eyes never left her. His scowl was firmly in place, but she could tell from the way his fingers tapped against his forearm that he was holding himself back from storming the stage and dragging her away from prying eyes.
Rosie smirked, twirling away before he could catch her gaze for too long.
The song built to its final chorus, and the girls made their way back to the stage, reuniting at the center for their final pose. As the music hit its last, dramatic note, they struck one final stance, chests lifted, hands on their hips, and legs elegantly positioned.
The club erupted into applause.
Rosie breathed heavily, a grin tugging at her lips as she and the girls exchanged triumphant glances. Her first performance had been flawlessly executed.
As the heavy curtains fell shut, muffling the lingering applause from the audience, Rosie exhaled a breathless laugh, exchanging triumphant glances with the other girls. Their skin shimmered with a fine layer of sweat and glitter, their bodies still buzzing from the adrenaline of performing under the stage lights.
"Another one for the books," Rina grinned, stretching her arms overhead.
Varsas chuckled, reaching for a silk robe to drape over her costume. "And we're only halfway through the night."
Rosie nodded, rolling her shoulders as she stepped off the stage and into the dimly lit backstage hallway. There were more acts scheduled—singers, comedy acts, and even an illusionist who could make a coin disappear in the blink of an eye. Their next performance was in a couple of hours, which gave them time to freshen up and mingle with the patrons.
Back in the dressing room, Rosie dabbed at the light sheen on her forehead, careful not to smudge her makeup, before spritzing herself with perfume. The room buzzed with chatter as the girls touched up their lipstick, powdered their noses, and adjusted their costumes.
"I need a drink after that," Yun said, fluffing her wavy lilac-colored hair.
"Agreed," Haruhi hummed, already reaching for her bejeweled clutch.
With one last glance in the mirror, Rosie followed the others out into the heart of the club, where music played low beneath the hum of conversation and clinking glasses.
The girls made their way to the bar, each ordering a drink—though Rosie opted for something light, knowing she still had another set to perform. Cradling their glasses, they leaned against the bar, chatting among themselves as various patrons approached to compliment their performance.
The atmosphere was warm, lively. Rosie allowed herself to relax, laughing at a joke Varsas made, enjoying the way the ice clinked in her glass as she swirled it absentmindedly.
A couple of hours later, Rosie slipped away from the crowd, making her way back to the dressing room. It was time for their next set, and this time, she was donning a costume of silver and black.
The new outfit was just as dazzling as the last—silver sequins caught the light, shimmering against the black fabric that hugged her curves. The bloomers were lined with delicate lace, and thigh-high stockings accentuated the length of her legs. She secured the last of her satin gloves before stepping out to meet the others.
Their second routine was just as playful as the first, but with a touch more sophistication. They moved together in seamless synchrony, their steps crisp, their movements precise. The audience was enthralled, the energy in the club rising with every spin, every twirl, every sultry gaze cast their way.
By the time the set ended, Rosie was breathless, her heart racing as she bowed alongside the others. The curtains fell once more, and the club erupted into another wave of applause.
Rosie smiled, brushing strands of hair from her face as she made her way toward the dressing room to change. But before she could reach the door, a firm hand suddenly grasped her wrist. Before she could react, she was yanked into one of the private rooms.
Before she could scream, a large hand covered her mouth as she stared up into the eyes of Katsuki. As soon as Rosie recognized Katsuki, her tense body relaxed, though she gave him a questioning look. He still had one hand covering her mouth, his other gripping her waist to steady her after pulling her inside so suddenly.
She raised a brow. "What are you doing?" Her words were muffled against his palm.
“You look tired,” he murmured, his crimson eyes scanning her face intently.
Rosie blinked at him before nodding. "I am," she admitted, voice quiet. "The meds are starting to make me groggy."
Katsuki frowned. "She said you didn’t have to start working until next weekend."
She sighed, leaning slightly into him. "It doesn’t feel right for Miyaki to pay me when I haven’t worked yet."
His grip on her waist tightened slightly before he muttered, "Then I’ll pay you to not work if it means you’ll get some damn sleep."
Her face immediately heated up. "You shouldn’t say things like that," she mumbled, eyes flickering away from his intense gaze.
“Why not?” His voice was low, teasing.
She huffed, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. "Because it makes it sound like…"
"Like what, doll?" Katsuki leaned in, his breath warm against her cheek.
Rosie swallowed hard, feeling her pulse race. "Like we’re…" She hesitated, her lips parting slightly, but the words got stuck in her throat.
Katsuki tilted his head, his smirk deepening. "Like we’re what?"
Instead of answering, she let out a shaky breath. He was too close, too overwhelming, and it made her dizzy in a way that had nothing to do with exhaustion.
Then, just as he was about to say something else, a sharp knock on the door interrupted them.
“Bakugou, hurry up. We’re about to go on,” Tokoyami’s voice came from the other side of the door, calm but firm.
Katsuki scowled, muttering a quiet curse under his breath before pulling back slightly. He lifted a hand, brushing a stray strand of hair away from Rosie’s face before pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"Go change," he murmured. "I’ll take you home after this."
Rosie nodded, stepping back as he pulled open the door and slipped out.
With a deep breath, she made her way back to the dressing room. The moment she stepped inside, she grabbed a makeup wipe and quickly washed her face free of glitter, eyeshadow, and lipstick, sighing at the relief of no longer having layers of makeup on her skin. She changed into a pair of soft gray sweats and an oversized black sweatshirt, pocketing her phone and keys before heading back out.
Instead of going straight to the exit, she stopped backstage, watching as the band took their places on stage. The atmosphere in the club shifted as the crowd buzzed with excitement, the stage lights dimming before a single spotlight illuminated Momo as she began the first chords on the keyboard.
Tokoyami’s bass followed next, dark and steady, before Jirou’s guitar came in, adding an electrifying edge. Kaminari was already grinning like a fool as he adjusted his mic, hyping up the crowd before he sang the opening lines.
But Rosie’s focus was solely on Katsuki.
Dressed in all black, his shirt sleeveless, his tattoos were fully visible under the stage lights, dark ink stretching along his arms as he wielded his drumsticks with practiced ease. The moment the beat dropped, he moved fluidly, his muscles tensing and flexing with every powerful strike against the drums.
She watched, entranced, as he twirled a drumstick between his fingers during a short pause in the beat before seamlessly catching it and continuing, never missing a single note.
Her lips curled into a soft smile. Even after everything, Katsuki was still the same—explosive, commanding, and utterly captivating.
Katsuki was in his element, completely immersed in the song, and she couldn't look away. He moved with such effortless confidence, his body tense with focus yet fluid as he played, each motion precise, each strike against the drums powerful. The muscles in his arms flexed with every hit, the dark ink of his tattoos shifting with the movement, illuminated under the bright stage lights.
She swallowed hard, eyes tracing the lines of his forearms, the way his fingers gripped the drumsticks with complete control, twirling them with ease between transitions. His jaw was clenched, lips slightly parted as he breathed heavily, sweat beginning to form along his temple, trailing down his throat.
Something warm curled deep in her stomach.
God, he looked good like this—too good.
Her mind betrayed her, images flashing through her head faster than she could stop them. His hands, rough and skilled, gripping her hips instead of the drumsticks. His arms, flexing as he pinned her down. That same intensity in his eyes focused on her, his lips brushing against her skin, hot and demanding.
She bit the inside of her cheek, barely suppressing a whimper.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair how easily he could make her feel this way, how just watching him play could send heat coursing through her veins.
She shifted on her feet, pressing her thighs together, trying to steady her breathing. But the music wasn’t helping—it was loud, deep, pulsing through her chest, making her heartbeat quicken, making it impossible to think of anything else but him.
“God,” a voice beside her suddenly spoke, making her jolt slightly. “I’ve always been into musicians, but the drummer is really sexy.”
Rosie turned, finding Varsas standing beside her, a playful smirk on her lips. She forced out a laugh, hoping her face wasn’t as flushed as it felt. “Yeah,” she said, voice light. “He could be.”
Varsas hummed, tossing her fiery red hair over her shoulder. “Well, I’m heading home. See you tomorrow night!”
Rosie nodded, offering a small wave as Varsas disappeared backstage.
Once she was gone, Rosie turned her attention back to the stage, her eyes immediately drawn to Katsuki again.
He was relentless.
Each song bled into the next, the pace never slowing, the energy never dropping. Sweat dripped down his arms, his tank top clinging to his back as he lost himself in the rhythm. He barely looked at the audience, his focus entirely on the music, on the way his hands moved instinctively, how his foot controlled the bass pedal without thought.
She could hear Kaminari singing, the crowd cheering, but none of it registered. All she could hear was the steady, powerful beat of the drums, feel it in her chest, pulsing through her veins.
She watched as Katsuki twirled a drumstick again, catching it smoothly before slamming it back down. The way his entire body moved with the music, his legs spread for balance, his head tilting back slightly as he exhaled deeply—it was too much.
Her nails dug into her palm. It took everything in her not to march straight up there, grab him by the collar, and drag him somewhere private.
By the time the final song ended, she was breathless for an entirely different reason than the rest of the crowd. The last beat echoed, Katsuki holding the drumsticks tightly for a few extra seconds before finally letting them drop to his lap. The stage lights dimmed, the crowd erupting into cheers as the curtains slowly closed, signaling the end of the set.
Rosie exhaled, trying to steady herself, but then Katsuki stood up. She swallowed hard.
His entire body was glistening with sweat, his chest rising and falling heavily, his shoulders still tense from exertion. He ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back from his face, his biceps flexing with the motion.
God help her.
He walked toward her, still catching his breath, his gaze sharp and unwavering as he reached her.
“Ready to go home, doll?” he asked, voice rough, hoarse from the intensity of the set.
Rosie pressed her thighs together and nodded. “Yeah.”
Notes:
I apologize for the late update. I don't know if you guys know but I go home every Friday and drive back to campus on Sunday nights so typically my update son the weekend are later just because I'm busy with family and my boyfriend.
Anyway, I drove back to campus early today and passed out and only woke up when my roommate didn't learn her lesson last time and brought in another hot plate.
Hope you love the chapter! See you guys tomorrow as I'm already working on tomorrow's chapter:)
Chapter 79: Kats, you need to sleep in your bed—not out here like a stubborn little gremlin
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie laid on her bed, watching Akira rush around her room, folding clothes and stuffing them into her suitcase with an almost mechanical efficiency. Every few seconds, she would pause, smoothing out a shirt or refolding a sweater, as if prolonging the inevitable.
"Are you sure you have to go?" Rosie asked, shifting onto her side, propping her head up with her hand.
Akira let out a small sigh, folding another sweater before tossing it into her suitcase. "Yes."
Rosie bit her lip, staring at her best friend. “It’s been amazing having you here.”
Akira glanced over her shoulder, her expression softening. "I know," she admitted. "I really don’t want to leave."
Rosie sat up, a teasing smile curling her lips. "Because I almost died or because of Monoma?"
Akira’s face immediately turned pink. "Both. Now shut up and help me pack."
Rosie laughed, but she slid off the bed and started folding a stray shirt for her. "I still can’t believe you’re breaking your ‘no dating’ rule."
“We’re not dating.”
"But it’s more than just sex."
Akira sighed, rubbing her temples. “I’m using this time back home to think—to really think about what I want, especially when it comes to dating a Pro Hero from another country.”
Rosie nodded, pressing her lips together. "Have you talked to Monoma about it?"
"Kinda," Akira muttered, refolding a pair of jeans. "We were in the middle of a conversation, but he got called in unexpectedly. I didn’t want to have a half-finished discussion, so we decided to wait until I’m back."
Rosie watched her carefully. "When do you think you'll be back?"
“After the New Year,” Akira smiled, though there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. “My boss won’t give me any more time off until then, considering I’ve already been here for almost three weeks.”
Rosie swallowed the lump forming in her throat.
She didn’t want Akira to go. Having her here, having that support, had made everything feel easier—like she wasn’t just existing in some limbo of recovery.
"Please don't feel guilty about me getting hurt," Rosie said suddenly.
Akira’s hands stilled as she zipped up her suitcase, her jaw tightening.
"You didn’t just get hurt, Rosie," she said quietly. "You died."
The weight of those words hung between them.
Rosie looked away, staring at the floor. "He would’ve attacked me whether you were there or not," she murmured. "If what Hawks suspects is correct, then he followed me from America."
“I know,” Akira admitted, her voice thick with emotion. “It’s the only reason I’m not completely drowning in guilt.”
Silence stretched between them before Rosie suddenly surged forward, throwing her arms around Akira.
Akira hugged her tightly, fingers gripping the back of Rosie’s sweatshirt as if anchoring herself in place.
“Be safe,” Akira whispered.
"You too," Rosie mumbled into her shoulder.
Neither of them wanted to let go, but eventually, Akira pulled back, clearing her throat and blinking away the tears in her eyes. “Alright, if we keep this up, I’m gonna start ugly crying, and I refuse to go through airport security looking like a mess.”
Rosie let out a watery laugh, wiping her eyes. "Fine, fine."
They rode down the elevator, walked through the lobby, and walked to the door together, and Rosie stayed until Akira entered her taxi and watched until it disappeared down the street.
And just like that, she was gone.
The library was quiet, the low hum of hushed conversations and the occasional rustle of turning pages filling the large study hall. Rosie sat at a long wooden table, her books spread out in front of her, her laptop open as she attempted to focus on her notes. But no matter how much she tried, her mind kept drifting.
It had been a few days since Akira left, and the absence was weighing on her more than she expected. She hated how empty the apartment felt without her, how much quieter everything seemed.
And then there was Katsuki.
He sat across from her, flipping through his own textbook, his expression scrunched up in concentration. His hoodie was slightly wrinkled, the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced than usual. He was exhausted.
She knew it.
He had been watching her 24/7, practically glued to her side ever since she left the hospital. No matter how many times she told him to get some proper rest, he wouldn’t listen. Even now, as he sat across from her pretending to study, she knew he was keeping one eye on her.
Letting out a quiet sigh, Rosie propped her chin in her hand and stared at him.
"You should go home and sleep," she said softly.
Katsuki didn’t even look up from his book. "I’m fine."
"You’re not."
He flipped a page aggressively. "Yes, I am."
She narrowed her eyes. "Katsuki."
He finally looked up, and for a moment, she saw just how tired he really was. His usually sharp crimson eyes were slightly dull, his shoulders tense but heavy with exhaustion.
Her chest ached. "You can’t keep doing this," she said, voice gentle. "You need rest."
"I’ll rest when I know you’re safe," he muttered.
Rosie exhaled, rubbing her temples. "You’re not a machine. You need sleep, Katsuki."
“I’ll sleep when you’re not a fucking target,” he snapped quietly, keeping his voice low for the sake of the library.
She flinched slightly, but not from fear—from how much it clearly affected him. Reaching across the table, she placed her hand over his, squeezing gently. His fingers twitched, but he didn’t pull away. "You can't protect me if you collapse from exhaustion," she said.
He clenched his jaw, looking down at their hands, his thumb absentmindedly brushing against hers.
Rosie smiled softly, trying to lighten the mood. "Besides, do you really wanna be known as the guy who passed out in the middle of class because he was too stubborn to take a nap?"
Katsuki scowled. "Shut up."
She laughed, and for a brief moment, his expression softened. She squeezed his hand once more before pulling away. "Go home after this, okay? Sleep. For me, otherwise you’ll end up sick."
Katsuki exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "You’re fuckin’ annoying sometimes."
"And you adore me for it." She giggled.
He smirked slightly, but didn’t argue. Instead, he flicked her forehead as he returned back to his homework,
Rosie stood at the foot of Katsuki’s bed, arms crossed over her chest, staring down at the absolute disaster that was her boyfriend. He was buried under a mountain of blankets, his normally sharp eyes bleary, his nose pink from what she could only assume was endless sneezing. His spiky blond hair was a mess, and he looked utterly miserable.
"I told you this would happen," she said, exasperated.
Katsuki cracked one eye open to glare at her. "Did you come here just to bully me?" His voice was hoarse, deeper than usual, rough around the edges like sandpaper.
Rosie sighed, rubbing her temples. "No, I came here to take care of your stubborn ass. But I did tell you that you’d get sick if you didn’t let yourself rest."
"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, sinking further into the blankets. "Whatever, nurse."
She snorted. "Oh, so now I’m your nurse?"
He smirked, despite looking like he was on the verge of death. "Could’ve sworn you had a thing for the whole nurse fantasy, doll. You gonna take real good care of me?"
Rosie rolled her eyes, but the warmth creeping up her neck betrayed her. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Try not to die while I make you some soup, patient."
She turned on her heel and headed toward the kitchen, leaving him chuckling under his breath.
As Rosie chopped vegetables and stirred the broth, she suddenly felt a presence behind her. She turned and nearly jumped.
Katsuki stood there, wrapped in a massive blanket like a makeshift cape, his face half-buried in the fabric as he watched her cook.
She blinked. "Katsuki."
"What?" His voice was muffled by the blanket.
"You’re supposed to be in bed."
His lips curled into a lazy smirk. "Gotta keep an eye on you. What if you burn my kitchen down?"
Rosie groaned, turning back to the stove. "You’re unbelievable."
He shuffled closer, standing just behind her, practically radiating warmth. "Smells good."
"Yeah, it’ll actually help you if you eat it." She stirred the soup and reached for the seasoning. "And then you’ll be going right back to bed."
He hummed noncommittally, resting his forehead against her shoulder for a second. "You’re all bossy when you play nurse. Kinda hot."
Rosie swatted him away with the wooden spoon, earning a weak chuckle, though he was definitely pushing the limits of his already fragile state.
“Sit down, Katsuki. Before you pass out in my kitchen.”
Katsuki raised a brow, smirking despite his hoarse voice. “Your kitchen? Last I checked, this is my apartment. My kitchen.”
Rosie rolled her eyes, stirring the soup with a huff. “Well, right now it’s my kitchen because I’m the one cooking in it. So go sit down in the living room if you’re going to be this stubborn.”
His smirk widened, albeit weakly. “Yes, ma’am.”
She smiled despite herself as he trudged off, still wrapped up in his ridiculous blanket cocoon. His footsteps were heavy, slower than usual, and she could tell the fever was really wearing him down. Stubborn idiot.
Once the soup was done, she ladled a generous portion into a bowl, carefully balancing it on a tray alongside some crackers, a glass of water, and the medicine he needed to take. Carrying the tray into the living room, she found Katsuki sprawled out on the couch, half-asleep, his blanket slipping off his shoulder. His brows were furrowed, even in his drowsy state, as if his body refused to let him look peaceful.
She sighed, setting the tray down on the coffee table. “Alright, sick boy, time to eat.”
His red eyes cracked open slightly, unfocused at first, before locking onto her. “You’re bossy when I’m sick.”
“You’re impossible when you’re sick.” She lifted the bowl, handing it to him along with the spoon. “Now, eat.”
Katsuki sat up with a groan, adjusting his blanket as he took the bowl from her. The steam rose up, warming his face, and after the first spoonful, he let out a quiet hum of approval.
“Not bad,” he muttered.
Rosie crossed her arms, feigning offense. “Not bad? That’s homemade soup, Katsuki. Show some appreciation.”
He smirked, eyes half-lidded from exhaustion. “Fine. It’s the best damn soup I’ve ever had.”
“Much better.” She handed him a couple of crackers before holding out the glass of water and some medicine. “Take these after you eat.”
He took the crackers but eyed the pills with an exaggerated grimace. “I don’t need those.”
Rosie raised a brow. “Uh-huh. And what happens when your fever spikes again in the middle of the night?”
He huffed, snatching the medicine from her hand. “Fine.”
Satisfied, Rosie stood up and stretched, glancing around his apartment. “While you finish that, I’m gonna throw your laundry in the wash and do some cleaning.”
Katsuki gave her a look. “Tch, you don’t have to do all that.”
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. You take care of me all the time, so let me take care of you.” She shot him a pointed look. “Besides, you’re basically living in this blanket right now, and I know you haven’t done laundry since before you got sick.”
Katsuki grumbled something under his breath but didn’t argue further, taking another spoonful of soup.
Rosie smirked, hands on her hips. “And when you’re done eating, you should take a hot shower. It’ll help you feel better.”
He raised a brow. “Are you suggesting I’m disgusting, doll?”
She grinned. “Oh, definitely.”
He huffed out a tired laugh, shaking his head as he finished his soup. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll shower. But only ‘cause my bossy nurse told me to.”
Rosie rolled her eyes with a smile. “Damn right.”
She left him on the couch while she began to clean his apartment, putting away the leftover soup, and doing his laundry. By the time, she came back to check up on him on his couch, she found him
Rosie had never seen Katsuki like this before. The normally sharp, explosive, and tough-as-nails man was currently a feverish, exhausted mess sprawled on his couch, wrapped up in a blanket like some kind of overgrown burrito. His usually tanned skin was flushed from the fever, his wild hair even more of a disaster than usual, and his heavy-lidded eyes barely held their usual intensity.
It was… kind of adorable.
Not that she’d ever tell him that.
She sighed, kneeling beside the couch and brushing his damp bangs away from his forehead. “Kats, you need to sleep in your bed—not out here like a stubborn little gremlin.”
A low, miserable groan came from under the blanket. “M’fine here…”
Rosie rolled her eyes. “No, you’re not. You’re all achy, feverish, and I know this couch isn’t doing you any favors.” She poked his shoulder. “Come on, up you go.”
He barely moved, his head lolling to the side as he cracked one eye open. “…Don’t wanna.”
She scoffed, crossing her arms. “What, so you’re just gonna live on this couch forever? Let yourself waste away?”
Katsuki let out a hoarse, exaggerated sigh. “Maybe.”
Oh, for the love of—“Alright, that’s it.” Rosie grabbed the edge of his blanket burrito and yanked.
“Oi—!” Katsuki flailed weakly as she pulled the blankets off, leaving him exposed to the cool air. He immediately curled in on himself, shivering slightly as he sent her the weakest glare she’d ever seen from him.
“Mean,” he muttered, voice scratchy.
Rosie smirked. “I told you to get in bed, dummy. So, move it.”
Still grumbling under his breath, Katsuki sat up—albeit very slowly, like he was made of lead. Rosie stayed close, ready to catch him if he toppled over. His fever made his movements sluggish, his usual sharp precision dulled to exhaustion.
She hooked an arm under his and gently helped him to his feet. “Alright, let’s get you to bed before you collapse.”
“M’not gonna collapse,” he mumbled, leaning into her more than he probably realized.
She sighed but didn’t say anything, carefully leading him to his bedroom. The moment they made it to the bed, Katsuki practically fell onto it with a dramatic exhale, burying his face into the pillows.
“God, you’re such a man when you’re sick,” Rosie muttered as she pulled the blankets up over him.
“’S that supposed to mean?” he grumbled, his words muffled by the pillows.
“It means you act like you’re dying over a little fever,” she teased. “Now, get some sleep.”
She started to turn away, but before she could leave, she felt a weak tug at the hem of her sweatshirt.
“…Stay.”
Rosie blinked, looking down to see Katsuki staring at her with tired, half-lidded eyes. His fingers were loosely curled around the fabric of her hoodie, his grip barely there but firm enough to make his point.
Her heart squeezed at how small he suddenly looked, vulnerable in a way she had never seen before. The fever had softened all his usual hard edges, stripping away his walls until all that was left was Katsuki, raw, tired, and needing comfort.
She hesitated. “Katsuki…”
His lips parted slightly, like he wanted to say something else, but instead, he just tugged on her hoodie again, his brows furrowing ever so slightly. “…Please?”
Oh, hell. How was she supposed to say no to that?
Sighing, Rosie crawled into bed beside him, slipping under the covers. The second she settled, Katsuki wasted no time in pulling her against him, burying his face into her neck with a quiet, content sigh.
She froze for a second, feeling the heat of his fever-warmed skin against her own. His arms—strong even in his weakened state—wrapped snugly around her waist, his grip just a little too tight, like he was afraid she’d leave.
“…You’re so clingy when you’re sick,” she murmured, running her fingers gently through his hair.
Katsuki hummed, his breath warm against her collarbone. “Shut up.”
She chuckled softly but didn’t argue, continuing to run her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp lightly.
“…Feels nice,” he mumbled sleepily.
“Yeah?”
He nodded against her.
Rosie smiled, pressing a light kiss to the top of his head. “Go to sleep, Kats.”
There was a beat of silence, before she shivered, feeling his breath against her collarbone.“Will you still be here when I wake up?”
Her heart ached. “Of course,” she whispered.
His arms tightened around her slightly, and within minutes, his breathing evened out as he finally drifted into sleep. And Rosie? She stayed right where she was.
Rosie walked through the front door, bags of groceries in her arms as she kicked the door shut behind her. She let out a small huff, setting them down on the kitchen island before rolling her shoulders. The apartment was eerily quiet, save for the faint sound of Katsuki’s heavy breathing coming from the bedroom down the hall.
She grabbed a cold bottle of water and some medicine, knowing he would need it soon. As she padded towards the bedroom, she felt her heart clench at the thought of him being so miserable.
Pushing open the door, she found him sprawled on the bed, his blankets tangled around his legs, his hair a damp mess against the pillow. His skin glistened with sweat, his breathing labored as the fever continued to burn through him. His usual scowl was replaced with a deep furrow of discomfort, and she could see how exhausted he truly was.
Rosie sighed, setting the water and meds down on the nightstand before leaning over him. “Katsuki darling,” she murmured, brushing her fingers lightly against his damp forehead.
A low groan came from him, and he barely cracked an eye open.
She crouched beside the bed, smoothing his sweat-slicked hair back. “Hey, you need to take another shower. You’re burning up, Pomchi.”
He groaned again, eyes fluttering shut. “M’fine.”
Rosie rolled her eyes. “You’re not fine, and I’m not about to let you wallow in your own sweat all night. Come on, up you go.”
He grumbled something unintelligible under his breath but made no effort to move. Rosie sighed, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and shaking him lightly. “Katsuki, please. A shower will help you feel better, I promise.”
His lips pursed like he wanted to argue, but he was too tired to fight her on it. With a deep sigh, he pushed himself up, sluggishly rubbing his face before swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
Rosie stood, helping him up when he swayed slightly. He grumbled a low “Tch.” but didn’t resist her support as she led him to the bathroom.
“Go. Take a warm shower,” she said firmly, crossing her arms. “I’ll have fresh sheets and food waiting for you when you come out.”
Katsuki gave her a hazy look before rolling his eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, voice rough.
Rosie watched him shuffle into the bathroom before hearing the sound of the water running. Satisfied, she turned back to the bedroom, sighing at the disaster that was his bed. The sheets were damp with sweat, the pillowcases clinging to the fabric from how much he had tossed and turned.
Yeah, this isn’t happening.
With a determined nod, she got to work, stripping the bed of the sweat-soaked sheets, blankets, and pillowcases. She tossed them into the laundry basket before heading to his closet, rummaging through until she found a spare set of bedding.
It took her a few minutes to remake the bed, smoothing out the fresh, cool sheets before fluffing the pillows and placing them back neatly. She knew Katsuki wasn’t the type to care much about these little things, but she wanted him to be as comfortable as possible.
Once she was satisfied with the bed, she made her way back to the kitchen, rolling up her sleeves.
Pulling out fresh ingredients, she got to work preparing a simple but nourishing soup—something light on the stomach but packed with flavor and warmth. She diced some vegetables, shredded some cooked chicken, and let everything simmer in a fragrant broth.
As the soup bubbled on the stove, she heard the bathroom door creak open, followed by sluggish footsteps. Turning her head, she saw Katsuki, still slightly damp from the shower, wearing a loose shirt and sweats. His hair was a messy, damp mop, and despite the shower, he still looked exhausted.
Rosie tsked. “You should’ve dried your hair properly.”
Katsuki shot her a weak glare. “Didn’t wanna.”
She just shook her head fondly, ladling some soup into a bowl and setting it down on the counter. “Come sit. You need to eat.”
Katsuki slowly dragged himself over to the stool, slumping down like all his energy had been drained from him. He leaned an elbow on the counter, eyes barely open.
Rosie picked up the spoon, stirring the soup a little before holding up a spoonful. “Here.”
Katsuki blinked at her, then at the spoon. “The hell are you doin’?”
She rolled her eyes. “Feeding you. Obviously.”
His lips twitched, and for a second, she thought he’d make some snarky remark, but instead, he leaned forward and accepted the spoonful of soup with a quiet hum.
Rosie bit back a smile. “See? Not so bad.”
Katsuki grumbled something under his breath but continued letting her feed him. Once the soup was finished, Rosie handed him his medicine, which he swallowed down with the water she had placed beside him. He grimaced, setting the glass down before watching her curiously as she walked over to the fridge.
“What now?” he asked, voice still rough from the fever.
Rosie turned with a mischievous smile, holding up a small carton of ice cream. “I got this for your throat.”
Katsuki blinked, eyes immediately zoning in on the label. “...Is that caramel?”
“Yep.” His lips parted slightly, and for the first time all day, there was a genuine glint of excitement in his tired gaze.
Rosie laughed. “I knew that would get you to perk up.” She grabbed a spoon and sat across from him, handing him the container.
Without hesitation, Katsuki took the spoon and dug in, humming in satisfaction at the first bite. Rosie just smiled, watching him enjoy the treat. It was rare to see him like this—unguarded, soft, and almost…cute. She wouldn’t trade it for the world.
After that, Katsuki started following her around like a wounded puppy—except this puppy was six feet and something of stubborn muscle and had a tendency to glare at anyone who so much as looked at him funny.
At first, Rosie thought he was just being clingy because he still felt sick. But even after his fever broke, he continued trailing behind her, sticking close enough that she could feel the heat of his body whenever she moved. If she sat down, he was right there beside her. If she got up to get something, he’d grunt and follow a second later.
And now, as she sat on the couch with her laptop open and textbooks spread across the coffee table, Katsuki was curled up beside her, head resting against her shoulder, his arms loosely wrapped around her waist.
She sighed, tapping her pen against her notebook. “Katsuki, you’re making this really hard to concentrate.”
“Mmm,” he hummed, burying his face against her hoodie. “Don’t care.”
Rosie rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched with amusement. “You’re not even feverish right now.”
“Still feel like shit,” he mumbled, voice muffled. “Need you.”
Her face warmed at the blunt confession, and she glanced down at him. His eyes were closed, his breathing even, but there was something about the way he was holding onto her—like he was afraid she’d slip away if he let go.
With a soft sigh, she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp. He let out a contented sound, pressing closer as if trying to melt into her.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she muttered, shaking her head.
“Damn right I am,” he grumbled sleepily, tightening his hold on her. “Now shut up and do your homework.”
Rosie just laughed, shaking her head before turning back to her work, letting him cling as much as he wanted.
Katsuki would never admit it out loud— not even under torture —but he fucking loved it when Rosie fussed over him. The way she hovered, her soft hands brushing over his forehead to check his temperature, the gentle way she spoke to him when she thought he was too out of it to notice. The warmth in her touch, the concern in her eyes, the way she’d tuck him in and run her fingers through his hair— it was addicting .
Which is why, even after his fever had broken, he still laid in bed, groaning dramatically whenever she entered the room, making sure his voice rasped just enough to sound pitiful.
Rosie, bless her big heart, kept bringing him soup, meds, water—anything he could possibly need. She even let him rest his head on her lap while she worked on her assignments, her fingers absently playing with his hair. It was perfect.
Until she started catching on.
“Katsuki,” she said one evening, standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. “Your fever’s been gone since yesterday afternoon.”
He barely cracked an eye open, giving her his best weak, pathetic look. “Still feel like shit, babe.” He coughed for emphasis, making sure to sound extra miserable. “Think I need my lovely little girlfriend to keep taking care of me.”
She arched a brow, unimpressed. “Really? Because you had enough energy to eat three bowls of soba earlier.”
He schooled his expression, schooling himself into looking exhausted. “Had to keep my strength up,” he said, voice hoarse. “M’still weak.”
Rosie gave him a long, hard stare, her lips twitching in amusement. “You’re faking.”
“Am not.”
“You are,” she accused, walking over and pressing her palm to his forehead. Her hand was cool against his skin, and he had to fight not to nuzzle into it.
“See?” he murmured. “Still sick. Think you should make me some more soup.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Oh yeah? What kind of symptoms are you having?”
He pretended to think, then let out a dramatic sigh. “Weak. Dizzy. Throat hurts. Think I need you to be my nurse a little longer.”
Rosie stared at him for another moment before a slow smirk spread across her face. “Fine,” she said sweetly. “If you’re so sick, then I should take you to the hospital. Maybe they’ll have to keep you overnight.”
He scowled, shooting upright in bed.. “The hell they will!”
She grinned, clearly pleased with herself. “Well, if you’re too sick to get out of bed, then I don’t think you’re well enough to go to class and I’ll have to go on my own.”
Katsuki tensed. Shit .
Rosie laughed, triumphant. “Busted.”
He groaned, flopping onto his back dramatically. “You’re cruel, you know that?”
She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “Mhm. Now get your ass up, pomchi , and take a shower. You stink.”
He grumbled, but couldn’t fight the smirk tugging at his lips as she walked out of the room. Yeah, he’d been caught— but at least he got a few extra days of her fussing over him. And, if he played his cards right, he’d find another excuse soon enough because god did he want to see her prance around in a little nurse's costume as she took care of him.
Notes:
Omg, I’ll be editing the second part of this chapter and update it before tonight but I had to get this chapter posted as it’s actually a dual pov as I wanted to trying switching povs more between Katsuki and Rosie🤭
Chapter 80: Let’s just say… some things are meant to belong to certain people.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki turned the cool metal key over in his palm, feeling the weight of it against his calloused fingers. His gaze flickered up to the girl sitting across from him, completely unaware of what he was about to do. Rosie was sipping her iced coffee, her lips pursed around the straw, eyes focused intently on her notebook as she scribbled down notes. Completely oblivious.
It was one of the things he loved about her.
Because she never saw these things coming, he could surprise her so easily—with gifts, with spontaneous dates, with the smallest gestures of affection that never failed to make her light up. And right now, she had no idea that he was about to give her something bigger than any of those things.
Something permanent. Something that meant this—they—weren’t just a fleeting moment. Katsuki swallowed, his heart hammering harder than he’d ever admit. “Doll.”
“Mm?” She glanced up at him, tilting her head slightly. “What’s up, Pomchi?”
He exhaled sharply, then reached across the table, pressing the key into her palm. “This is for you.”
Rosie blinked. Then blinked again. Her gaze dropped to her hand, her fingers slowly curling around the metal. “What?” she whispered, eyes darting back up to meet his.
His ears burned, but he kept his voice steady. “It’s a key to my place.” He rubbed the back of his neck, forcing himself to hold her gaze. “You should have one.”
For a second, she just stared at him, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a bright flush spread across her cheeks, her pink lips parting as her fingers tightened around the key like he had just handed her something precious.
“Katsuki…”
His name left her lips so softly, so tenderly, that he had to grit his teeth to keep from kissing her right then and there.
“You’re my girlfriend,” he said, voice gruff, “and you should have a key to my place.”
She didn’t respond with words. Instead, she started shoving her things into her bag with a kind of quiet urgency, her movements fast and efficient.
Katsuki frowned. “Pretty girl, what are you doing?”
Rosie zipped up her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and stood. “We’re going to your place,” she said simply, eyes shining. “I wanna use my key.”
Katsuki’s chest ached with how much he fucking loved her. He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he stood. “Come on then.”
By the time they reached his apartment, she was practically vibrating with excitement. Katsuki stood behind her, watching as she eagerly dug through her pocket and pulled out the key.
She took a deep breath, eyes bright as she slid the key into the lock. Turned it. The door clicked open.
Rosie let out a delighted squeal, bouncing on her toes before doing a little excited spin. Then, before he could react, she grabbed his wrist and yanked him inside. “I love it,” she gushed, holding up the key between her fingers as she grinned up at him. “Thank you.”
He was fucking doomed.
Katsuki reached out, hooking an arm around her waist, tugging her closer. His lips brushed against the crown of her head as he exhaled slowly, trying to keep himself from doing something absolutely feral.
Katsuki squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his forehead against hers. Yeah. He was so fucking doomed.
Katsuki had been trailing Rosie all morning, hands stuffed into his pockets as she weaved effortlessly through the crowded farmer’s market, her iced coffee in one hand and an ever-growing tote slung over her shoulder. The deep red of her long-sleeved dress stood out against the autumn air, clinging to her in all the right ways, the sheer tights hugging her legs as she stepped over cobblestone paths in her boots. The morning sunlight caught in her hair, making the strands shimmer gold and honey, while the breeze lifted the hem of her dress just enough to tease him.
How could she be so beautiful?
It wasn’t just in moments like this—under the warm morning glow, her laughter mixing with the distant sound of a street musician playing his violin—it was always. She was just as breathtaking under the moonlight, a creature carved from something timeless, something ancient. Like the sea, never changing, never bending to anything but its own rhythm. And yet, she followed him so easily. Trusted him.
If she asked, he’d buy her this whole damn market. Every last stall, every fresh berry, every homemade pastry. If it meant he could keep seeing that bright, delighted smile she threw his way, he’d spend every cent he had.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He exhaled sharply, dragging himself out of his thoughts as he pulled it out, rolling his eyes at the caller ID.
Sighing, he picked up. “What do you want, old hag?”
“You damn brat,” his mother snapped, unbothered as ever. “I’m only calling to invite you and your lovely girlfriend to dinner.”
His gaze flickered to Rosie, who was now at a jewelry booth, her fingers lightly tracing over the pieces displayed on velvet. His mother’s voice was background noise at this point—nothing was more important than her.
“Doll, come here.”
Immediately she obeyed, turning to him and standing in front of him as she stared up at him. Fuck, she is so obedient. “Yes Katsuki?”
“Old hag wants us to come over for dinner.”
She immediately smiled, clapping her hands together softly. “I’d love to!”
He grunted, “you hear that hag?”
“Lovely,” she ignored his insult. “We will see you tonight at seven.”
He pocketed the phone just as Rosie’s fingers ghosted over a silver bracelet. The metal was carved into the shape of a dragon, red jewels set into its eyes, curling around a crescent moon and tiny, twinkling stars made of pink diamonds.
Katsuki frowned, stepping closer. That bracelet… why did it feel like he had seen it before?
“It reminds me of you,” Rosie murmured, brows furrowed in thought. “Is that odd?”
He blinked, taken aback. “What?”
She turned it in her fingers, lips slightly parted as she stared at the silver. “I don’t know. The dragon, the stars, the moon… something about it feels like you.”
Katsuki exhaled through his nose, something settling in his chest as he looked at her. His little star.
“It suits you,” the woman behind the booth spoke up, her voice smooth like a tide against the shore.
Rosie glanced up, smiling softly. “Do you think so?”
The woman nodded, tucking a silver-streaked strand of hair behind her ear. Her blue eyes gleamed, almost eerily familiar, though Katsuki couldn’t place why. “Indeed. A beautiful star,” she said, before shifting her gaze to him, “and a handsome dragon.”
Katsuki bristled. “I’m not a dragon.”
Rosie giggled, turning to him with those warm, affectionate eyes. “Don’t be so grumpy, Katsuki.”
“I’m just stating facts,” he grumbled, crossing his arms.
She hummed, head tilting. “You protect me like one.”
His lips twitched. “Oh yeah?”
Rosie nodded, a little shy, as if she realized the weight of her own words. “Yeah.”
His smirk widened. He stepped closer, tilting her chin up slightly with two fingers. “Does this mean that I can steal you away?”
She sucked in a breath, her eyes flickering away before back to him, face growing pink. “Katsuki…”
He chuckled, low and warm, letting his fingers trace down the side of her jaw before dropping away. Too easy.
The woman behind the booth watched them with a knowing smile.
“It is gorgeous,” Rosie said softly, shaking herself from her flustered state. “How much?”
The woman clasped her hands together, her smile deepening. “It’s not every day I see such a beautiful couple like yourselves.” She reached forward, gently pressing the bracelet into Rosie’s palm. “For you, I will give it to you for free. Consider it a gift.”
Katsuki’s brows furrowed. “The hell kind of business model is that?”
The woman merely chuckled. “Let’s just say… some things are meant to belong to certain people.”
Rosie beamed, glancing up at him. “Katsuki, look! It’s mine!”
His chest ached. She was too damn cute. Too his.
Katsuki smirked, pressing a slow kiss to her temple before murmuring low in her ear, “Guess that makes you my treasure and my star.”
Rosie let out a tiny, choked sound, her face burning pink before she buried it against his arm. His smirk widened. Too easy.
The woman at the stall simply smiled knowingly.
Rosie, still clearly flustered, peeked up at him through her lashes. “Will you put it on me?”
Katsuki took the bracelet from her, his rough hands surprisingly careful as he fastened the silver around her wrist. He let his fingers linger, brushing over her pulse, before he brought her wrist to his lips and kissed the delicate skin.
Rosie melted in his hands. He could feel the way her body went pliant, her breath hitching as she watched him with wide, dazzled eyes.
She turned quickly, moving toward a nearby mirror to admire the bracelet, giving him a moment to collect himself. He exhaled, shoving his hands into his pockets before glancing back at the woman. Something about her gaze unsettled him—sharp, knowing, like she had been expecting all of this.
“So why did you really give it to her?” he asked, voice gruff.
The woman hummed, glancing toward Rosie as she admired the bracelet in the reflection. “My father and uncle loved a woman just like her. And she, too, loved that bracelet.”
Katsuki frowned. “Did you know her?”
A soft, wistful smile graced her lips. “Only a handful of memories. But I grew up with my father and uncle telling me all about her. About how she loved me.”
His stomach twisted, something uncomfortable settling in his chest. There was a weight in the air, something just beyond his grasp, slipping through his fingers like water.
The woman’s gaze sharpened, studying him. “Do you love her?”
Katsuki swallowed. The truth pressed against his ribs, clawing at his throat, demanding to be freed.
“…Yeah.” His voice was rough, raw. The confession came without hesitation, without doubt.
The woman smiled like she had already known the answer. “She’s destined for you.”
Something in his chest ached.
A memory surfaced, unbidden—his mother’s smirk, the glint in her eyes as she spoke, clearly relishing his uncharacteristic silence.
"Your teacher wrote to me," she had said, her voice tinged with amusement. "Telling me how much you’ve grown and matured—and how you’ve found someone to protect. Just as he foretold all those years ago."
"Only you, Katsuki, could bond with a woman without realizing she’s your destined mate," his father had chuckled once, warm and teasing.
Katsuki blinked away the memory as Rosie stepped toward him, her brows furrowed in concern. “Katsuki, darling? Are you okay?”
Katsuki’s jaw clenched. He never cared for prophecies or fate, never cared for anything that tried to dictate his life. But now, standing here, staring at the bracelet wrapped around Rosie’s wrist, he felt it all press down on him. His throat felt tight. He cleared it, shaking his head. “Yeah. Sorry, doll, just thinking.”
She frowned, stepping closer, rising onto her toes as she pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. “Are you feeling feverish again?”
He caught her wrist, turning her palm against his cheek instead. Her skin was so warm, so soft. He let himself linger for a second, just breathing her in. “No fever, pretty girl,” he murmured.
She brightened immediately, her eyes twinkling like the stars she was named for. She turned back to the woman with a grateful smile. “Thank you for the gift. I will cherish it.”
The woman simply nodded. “I know you will.”
Rosie gasped suddenly, tugging on his hand. “Come on! I saw a booth selling pet treats—I wanna get some for Maya!”
Katsuki barely had time to react before she was pulling him through the market, her fingers wrapped around his wrist, her excitement practically tangible.
And yet, he didn’t move. Not really. His feet followed her, but his mind—his heart—was stuck on her. On the way the sunlight caught the strands of her hair, the way her dress fluttered around her legs, the way she always pulled him forward without hesitation, as if she had never once doubted he would follow.
Because he would. Always.
He had never been the kind of man to put his emotions into words. He was too rough around the edges, too full of raw, blistering heat to say things sweetly. But right now, I love you didn’t feel like enough. It was too small, too insignificant to describe what was consuming him from the inside out.
How could three words possibly capture the way he ached for her? The way he would rip the world apart if it ever tried to take her from him?
His grip tightened around her hand, his pulse thudding heavy in his ears. She turned back slightly, flashing him another brilliant smile, completely oblivious to the war raging inside him.
She had no idea how thoroughly she owned him. She had no idea that if she ever let go—if she ever asked for his heart—he’d place it in her hands without hesitation.
God, he loved her. So much that it terrified him.
Katsuki’s eye twitched as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. His jaw clenched, irritation simmering beneath his skin. But it wasn’t directed at Rosie. No, the frustration gnawed at him because his pretty little girlfriend was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
And why? Because she was about to step into his childhood home for the first time, officially meeting his parents as his girlfriend.
For the past twenty minutes, she had been fidgeting in the passenger seat, fingers twisting together, shifting in her seat, biting her lip, then huffing and looking out the window before doing it all over again. Katsuki had half a mind to pull over and shake some sense into her.
Instead, he reached over, grabbed her hand, and bit down on her palm.
She let out a yelp, jerking in her seat. “Katsuki!”
He didn’t let go. Instead, he smoothed over the bite with a slow drag of his tongue before pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses against the spot, his lips lingering in a way that sent warmth rushing up her neck.
“Yes, doll?” he murmured against her skin.
She sputtered. “You bit me!”
He hummed, dragging his lips over her wrist, his voice casual. “Great observation skills, doll.”
She flushed, her lips parting in outrage before she huffed and tried to yank her hand away. “You’re being mean.”
“No, I’m not.” He kept her hand firmly in his grasp, pressing it against his chest as he navigated the familiar streets of his childhood. The houses blurred past, but his attention was half on her, half on the road.
“Then why did you bite me?” she grumbled, pouting slightly.
“Because you’re driving me insane with all that damn fidgeting,” he stated, side-eyeing her. “Hard to focus.”
Rosie’s expression softened immediately. “Oh… I’m sorry.”
His grip on her hand tightened, his thumb running along her knuckles. “Tch. Don’t apologize. Just stop stressin’ over nothin’. My mom already loves you. My dad’s gonna love you even more. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
Her brows knitted together. “You really think so?”
He scoffed, bringing her hand back to his face and nuzzling against her palm. “If my mom didn’t love you, she wouldn’t have invited you over for dinner.”
“Oh.” She flushed again, eyes darting away.
A smirk tugged at his lips as he turned into the driveway, parking the car. The moment he killed the engine, he was out, rounding the car to open the door for her.
She peeked up at him shyly as she took his hand, stepping out of the car.
Katsuki wasted no time, grasping her face between his hands, tilting her chin up so she was looking directly at him. “Now listen, if you’re feelin’ overwhelmed, tell me strawberry, and we’ll leave—no questions asked, yeah?”
Her brows furrowed. “But isn’t that word for—”
“Sex? Yeah. But it can also be used for when you’re overwhelmed.” His voice dropped lower, raspier. “Now promise me you’ll use it if you need to.”
She hesitated for a second before nodding. “I promise.”
He slid his nose against hers, a slow, affectionate nuzzle. Finally, the corners of her lips lifted into a small, sheepish smile, a pretty pink blush dancing across her cheeks.
“Ready?”
“Yeah,” she breathed.
Katsuki turned toward the house, taking a step toward the door—only for it to fling open before they could even reach the damn doorstep. "There she is!"
Mitsuki stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes gleaming. Masaru was right behind her, smiling warmly. But before Katsuki or Rosie could say a single word, Mitsuki grabbed Rosie and yanked her inside.
“Oi—!” Katsuki blinked in shock as his mother swept his girlfriend into the house, Masaru trailing after them. The door nearly slammed shut in his face.
He stood there for a solid five seconds, processing.
His girlfriend had just been stolen. By his mother. What the hell?
Shaking his head, he growled under his breath and stomped forward, throwing open the door. "Oi, old hag, at least let me walk in with my damn girlfriend!"
Both his parents ignored him as he stomped in after them, shedding his shoes and coat to find them already seated in the living room with Rosie seated in the center, her hands neatly folded in her lap. He rolled his eyes as he moved to sit on the coffee table directly in front of her, they all stared at him, his parents amused with Rosie shy.
He rolled his eyes at how smug his mom and dad looked while Rosie, in contrast, seemed both shy and a little overwhelmed by their presence.
“Katsuki…” she murmured, her voice uncertain as he strode toward her.
“Lift your foot,” he ordered.
She blinked at him in confusion but obeyed. He grabbed her ankle, tugging off her heel before taking her other foot and sliding off the other heel. Rosie let out a quiet noise of surprise, her face burning as he set her shoes aside.
“Give me your coat,” he said next.
Her blush deepened as she quickly slipped it off, handing it to him without question along with her scarf.
From the corner of his eye, he saw his mom smirk. “Oh, look at my little brat being all gentlemanly,” Mitsuki teased, leaning her cheek against her hand. “Never thought I’d see the day!”
Maseru chuckled, nodding approvingly. “That’s my boy. Look at him, takin’ care of his woman. I raised him right.”
Katsuki let out an irritated growl, feeling heat rise to his ears. “Shut the hell up, old man.”
Mitsuki ignored him entirely, leaning toward Rosie with a wicked grin. “He didn’t get this from me, ya know. This kid was a menace growing up—never let anyone help him, always barkin’ orders at people. If he ever did something nice, it was ‘cause he had to.”
Katsuki clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Tch. You done yet?”
Rosie, despite her initial nervousness, giggled softly. “I think it’s sweet,” she said, her voice warm as she looked at him.
Katsuki glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Whatever. I’m gettin’ you somethin’ to drink.”
He stomped off to the kitchen, ignoring his mother’s cackling as he grabbed a glass of wine for Rosie and a beer for himself. When he returned, he found his mom flipping through an old photo album, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she showed Rosie baby pictures of him.
“Oh, look at this one,” Mitsuki cooed, holding up a picture of a toddler Katsuki, face covered in cake, his tiny fists raised in a victory pose. “He threw a tantrum because we wouldn’t let him eat the whole damn thing.”
Rosie pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter as she looked at the photo.
“Oh! And this one,” Mitsuki continued, flipping the page. “This was when he first got his quirk. He blew up his own toy set, and his friends wouldn’t stop chasing after him, begging him to show it off again.”
Katsuki groaned, covering his face with his hand. “Mom, why?”
Maseru smirked, sipping his drink. “Oh, let her have her fun. She’s been waitin’ for this.”
Rosie, now visibly more relaxed, giggled as she cradled the wine glass in her hand. “I think it’s adorable,” she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
Katsuki peeked at her through his fingers before grumbling, taking a long sip of his beer. As much as he hated his parents embarrassing him, seeing Rosie smiling and laughing so easily made it worth it.
The four of them moved to the dining table, where Mitsuki and Maseru sat across from them while Rosie was seated beside Katsuki on his right. The atmosphere was surprisingly lighthearted, with his father engaging Rosie in a conversation about his work in the fashion industry.
“I work with a lot of up-and-coming designers,” Maseru explained. “It’s a competitive world, but I love seeing young talent break into the industry. Have you ever thought about fashion?”
Rosie smiled as she sipped her wine. “I love fashion, but I’ve never thought about pursuing it professionally. My best friend, though—she’s a stylist.”
“Ah, that’s great,” Maseru said with a nod. “It’s always good to have people with an eye for it.”
Katsuki watched Rosie closely as she continued chatting, her nervousness from earlier melting away. He couldn’t help but feel a little smug—she was holding her own just fine, despite his mother’s usual overbearing nature.
But as dinner neared its end, the conversation took a sudden turn.
“So, Rosie,” Mitsuki began, leaning forward slightly, “what about your mother? Is she back in the States?”
Katsuki barely had time to react before he noticed Rosie tense, her fingers tightening slightly around her glass.
But within seconds, she plastered on a small smile. “She passed away earlier this year,” she said smoothly. “I moved to Japan to be with my father and little sister.”
Katsuki clenched his jaw, watching as she kept her expression neutral, her posture composed. But he knew her. He could see the stiffness in her shoulders, the way her fingers curled ever so slightly against the stem of her glass.
Rosie then cleared her throat and set her glass down. “Excuse me for a moment,” she murmured, standing from the table and making her way toward the restroom.
Mitsuki frowned, watching her go before turning back to Katsuki. “Did I say somethin’ wrong?”
Katsuki exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “She didn’t just lose her mom,” he muttered. “We just found out that the bastard who’s been stalkin’ her the last couple of months followed her from America. And he told her that he killed her mother and he’ll make her death look like a freak accident.”
Mitsuki’s expression darkened immediately. “And you didn’t think to mention that?”
“I didn’t want her to feel like she had to talk about it,” Katsuki admitted. “She’s barely been able to sleep or relax since she got out of the hospital. It’s been—” He exhaled, shaking his head. “It’s been rough.”
Mitsuki and Maseru exchanged a look, their usual teasing nature gone.
Katsuki went on to quickly explain everything that’s happened the last couple of weeks. Then when he got to the part where he watched her die, he had to actually fight through the heartache and the tears he felt underneath the surface at just the mere memory of it. By the time he was finished, both his parents frowned, looking towards the hall where Rosie disappeared to.
Katsuki clenched his jaw, his foot tapping against the floor anxiously as he glanced toward the hall. He knew Rosie would come back with that same composed expression, acting like nothing was wrong.
And that pissed him off more than anything.
When Rosie returned a few minutes later, her eyes were slightly red, but she held herself together as she took her seat once again. She bowed her head slightly, her voice soft but steady. “I apologize for abruptly leaving like that.”
Mitsuki, who had been watching her carefully, didn’t hesitate. She pushed back her chair, stood up, and crossed the short distance between them before wrapping Rosie in a tight hug. “Never apologize, you sweet girl,” Mitsuki murmured, her voice firm but full of warmth.
Katsuki watched as Rosie initially stiffened in his mother’s arms, her body tense and uncertain. But then, slowly, her walls crumbled. Her hands gripped onto Mitsuki’s back, her shoulders trembling as a sob escaped her lips. Then another. And another.
Katsuki clenched his jaw, his fingers twitching. He wanted to reach out, wanted to pull her into his arms, to soothe her, to take all that pain away. But he knew—this wasn’t something he could fix. This wasn’t something she needed from him. She needed to feel safe in a different way. She needed something he could never provide—a mother’s embrace.
He forced himself to look away, pushing his chair back as he stood. “Let’s clean this up,” he muttered to his father, already gathering the plates to give them privacy.
Maseru nodded, silently following suit as they moved into the kitchen. The clinking of dishes and the running water filled the space, drowning out the quiet sounds of Rosie’s cries.
It wasn’t long before Maseru broke the silence. “When your mother told me a couple of weeks ago that you had a girlfriend, I thought she was making a joke.”
Katsuki scoffed but didn’t look up from scrubbing the dish in his hands. “Tch. Yeah, I bet.”
“She’s a sweet girl,” Maseru continued, rinsing his own plate. “Certainly a kind and patient one to deal with you.”
Katsuki exhaled sharply, but there was no bite in his response. They both knew it was true.
For the longest time, Katsuki had been an arrogant little shit. He hadn’t cared about anything except proving he was the strongest, the best, the only one who mattered. U.A. had changed that. Deku had changed that. Dying had changed that. And the war—it had left scars on his body and soul that even time couldn’t fully heal.
But Rosie… She had made him feel alive in a way nothing else had. With her, he’d shed the last remnants of the person he used to be. With her, he wasn’t haunted anymore.
Maseru’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Do you love her?”
Katsuki didn’t answer immediately, but his grip tightened on the plate in his hands.
His father hummed knowingly. “She would make a fine wife.”
Katsuki’s breath hitched, just for a second.
Maseru didn’t look at him as he continued, “I suggest you think long and hard about the future.”
Katsuki turned his head slightly, eyes flickering toward the crack in the kitchen door that led to the dining room. Through the gap, he saw Rosie still curled into his mother’s arms, her body trembling as she cried softly.
His stomach clenched.
“She is my future,” he said quietly, his voice unwavering. “I don’t give a damn about anything else.”
Maseru chuckled under his breath, rinsing his hands. “I figured you’d say something along those lines.”
They didn’t speak of it any further. Instead, Maseru shifted the conversation to school and Katsuki’s Pro Hero work, both of them falling into an easy rhythm. It wasn’t until Mitsuki came into the kitchen, her expression softer than usual, that they paused.
“She fell asleep,” she said gently.
Katsuki nodded, already drying his hands. “I’m gonna drive her home.”
Katsuki left the kitchen, stepping into the living room where Rosie was curled up on the couch, her body slack with exhaustion. Even in sleep, the evidence of her earlier distress remained—red-rimmed eyes, splotchy skin, smeared makeup.
His heart ached at the sight. He crouched down beside her, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her face before pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice low and gentle.
She stirred slightly, her eyelashes fluttering. “Mmm…”
“Ready to go home?”
She made a small noise, burying her face into the couch. “Don’t wanna get up.”
He scoffed, amused despite himself. “Arms around me, pretty girl.”
Still half-asleep, she blinked at him before obediently wrapping her arms around his shoulders. In one swift motion, he scooped her up with one hand, effortlessly supporting her weight against his chest. She nuzzled into him with a sleepy sigh, already drifting off again.
Katsuki grabbed their coats, scarves, and slipped his shoes back on, holding hers in his other hand. As he made his way to the door, Mitsuki’s voice stopped him.
“Thanks for coming over for dinner,” she said softly, her usual brashness absent. She placed a hand on his shoulder, her grip firm. “Bring her around more often. I’d love to get to spend some time with her.”
Katsuki inhaled deeply, nodding.
“I think she needs that,” Mitsuki added.
Katsuki didn’t say anything, but his jaw tightened as he glanced down at Rosie, her face pressed against his chest.
Yeah. She did. And he was going to make damn sure she had it.
Even as Katsuki walked through the door of his apartment, Rosie remained sound asleep, her arms still loosely draped around his shoulders. He shifted her weight effortlessly, kicking the door closed behind him and tossing his keys onto the table before making his way to the bedroom.
The apartment was quiet, save for the soft sound of her steady breathing against his neck. It was rare—too rare—to hear her breathing so peacefully. She never really slept anymore, not the way she used to before the attack. She dozed off in small increments, only to jolt awake, her body stiff with fear. He had lost count of the number of times he had been woken by the sound of her sharp gasps, the way her fingers clenched at the sheets as though she was still trying to escape a nightmare she couldn't outrun.
He hated it.
She didn’t stir as he gently lowered her onto the bed. Katsuki took a step back, rolling his shoulders as he glanced down at her, noting how her dress had wrinkled from the way she had curled up against his chest. Frowning, he reached down, carefully stripping off her tights, followed by the dress. He hesitated for only a second before cursing under his breath.
Of course, he had forgotten that she didn’t have anything clean to change into.
Grumbling, he turned to his dresser, grabbing a pair of his boxers and one of his t-shirts. His movements were careful as he slipped them onto her, making sure to keep her comfortable. It was his fault she had passed out without changing properly. He should have just brought her straight home after dinner, but instead, he had let her sit through his parents’ endless stories, even after he noticed the way she tensed when they asked about her mother.
Katsuki ran a hand through his hair, exhaling.
Once she was dressed, he grabbed a washcloth and his phone, typing in a quick search. He had never thought about how to remove makeup before, but now, watching the smeared streaks of mascara beneath her eyes, he cursed himself for not knowing earlier.
After watching a quick tutorial, he carefully wiped her face, making sure not to wake her as he worked. The tension in his chest eased slightly once her skin was clean, free of the evidence of her earlier tears.
When he was done, he pulled the covers over her, tucking her in before sitting down beside her.
For a long moment, he just watched.
Her face was relaxed in sleep, her lips slightly parted, her breath slow and deep. She looked soft, fragile even—nothing like the girl who had stormed into his life with all her sass and teasing
But he knew better. He knew the things she buried, the weight she carried on her shoulders. She pretended like she wasn’t losing her mind with the fear, the guilt, the worry. She smiled through it, pushed forward like it wasn’t eating her alive.
But Katsuki wasn’t stupid.
He saw the way her hands trembled when she thought no one was looking. The way she flinched whenever she heard an unexpected noise behind her. The way her eyes darted to the door, always searching, always waiting. She was terrified. She wouldn’t admit it—not to him, not to anyone—but he knew.
Katsuki reached out, brushing his fingers over her cheek. She was warm beneath his touch, her skin soft. He let out a slow breath before leaning down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.
How many nights had it been now? How many nights had he sat here, watching over her, making sure she wasn’t alone in the dark?
His fingers curled into the sheets beside her.
He wasn’t going anywhere.
The apartment was quiet, save for the occasional scratch of his pencil against the paper. Katsuki sat on the couch, his textbook open on the coffee table, a half-finished essay sprawled across the pages of his notebook.
He had managed to get through about half of his schoolwork when the sound reached him. A muffled, choked whimper. Katsuki’s head snapped up immediately, his body going rigid. Then, another sound. A soft, broken sob. His chest tightened.
Shoving his textbook aside, he was on his feet in an instant, already moving toward the bedroom. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t pause to knock—he just pushed the door open.
Rosie was curled into a tight ball on the bed, her hands clutching the blankets, her face twisted in distress. Her breathing was ragged, uneven, her shoulders trembling as she whimpered in her sleep.
Katsuki didn’t think, he just acted.
He moved to her side, sitting down on the edge of the bed as he reached for her. “Rosie,” he murmured, his voice low, rough. “Doll…”
She didn’t wake. Instead, she let out another pained whimper, her brows furrowing deeper, as if she was trying to fight against something that wouldn’t let her go.
Katsuki swore under his breath. Gently, he cupped her face, his thumbs brushing against her damp cheeks. “Hey, pretty girl,” he whispered. “Wake up.”
Her breath hitched, her body jerking slightly, but she was still trapped in the nightmare.
Katsuki leaned down, his forehead pressing lightly against hers. “You’re safe,” he murmured, his voice softer this time. “It’s just me. Come back, Rosie.”
Her lashes fluttered. Then, finally, after what felt like an eternity, her eyes opened. For a second, she just stared at him, dazed, disoriented. Her breath was shaky, her chest rising and falling too fast. Then, her lip trembled.
Without thinking, she reached for him.
Katsuki didn’t hesitate. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tight against his chest. She buried her face against his shoulder, her fingers clutching at his hoodie like he was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.
Katsuki exhaled slowly, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of her head. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “I got you.”
Her breath hitched again, and she let out a quiet, shuddering sob.
Katsuki closed his eyes, tightening his hold on her. They stayed like that for a long time. Eventually, her breathing steadied, her body relaxing slightly in his arms. But she didn’t let go. Neither did he.
Katsuki sighed, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Try to sleep, yeah?”
She made a small sound in response, her grip on him loosening just slightly. Katsuki shifted, keeping her wrapped in his arms as he leaned back against the pillows. She curled into him, tucking herself against his chest. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed awake after that, but he didn’t care.
As long as she was in his arms, as long as she was safe. He would stay as long as she needed.
Notes:
I got so caught up in writing the next big bad that I forgot to post today, I apologize but oh my god, you guys are going to hate me. Like seriously run at me with pitchforks and torches for what I'm going to do soon.
The memory referenced is The Pretty High Elf and The Rogue Dragon Prince chapter 127
Chapter 81: So even when we’re apart, we can still look at the stars together.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The days of November came and went, the days were long and nights longer as the cold seeped in. Katsuki had been at a loss since she had been attacked for numerous reasons. They all revolved around his pretty girlfriend. Why? He hated knowing that she was struggling, that she was holding everything inside, that she was trying to hide it all from him.
Currently he watched as his pretty little girlfriend decorated his apartment ceiling with those glow and the dark stars, they were in several colors of pretty blues, pinks, yellows, and purples along with a white gray moon moon. Why?
“For us,” she had told him earlier. “So even when we’re apart, we can still look at the stars together.”
Like he’d ever be apart from her. But he still let her do as she pleased because it made her happy.
Katsuki stayed where he was, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed as he watched her. He let her do whatever she wanted, why? Because she batted those pretty eyes at him and smiled. How the fuck could he ever say no to her? So pretty and eager to decorate his ceiling with stars. Not to mention, she looked so happy, so caught up in her little project, so normal.
But he wasn’t an idiot. He saw through the act. Saw the way her hands trembled, the way the dark circles under her eyes were now hidden beneath a careful layer of concealer. She thought she was fooling him. She wasn’t.
“Do you like it?”
Her voice pulled him from his thoughts. She had climbed off the bed and now stood between his legs, looking at him with those big, hopeful eyes, her cheeks dusted pink from excitement.
Katsuki forced himself to shove his thoughts aside, instead giving her a soft smirk. “Yes, pretty girl,” he murmured, reaching out to grab her hand. “You did such a great job.”
The praise hit her instantly, a deep blush spreading across her face. He had been doing this a lot lately, throwing her sweet words, soft reassurances, anything to make her feel safe. It didn’t always work. But today, it did.
“Now come here, beautiful.” He tugged her closer, guiding her onto his lap. She was hesitant, but eventually settled against him, her hands resting against his shoulders. “Kiss me?” he asked softly.
She blinked, then leaned in, pressing her lips to his.
It was soft, gentle— too gentle.
His hands slid to her hips, his thumbs brushing against the skin beneath her shirt. But the moment his fingers slipped a little higher, she pulled away. Immediately, she was off his lap, moving away from him like she had been burned.
Katsuki stilled, his hands clenched into fists as he stared at her. She was nervous, refusing to meet his gaze, her entire body stiff.
Again .
This had been happening for weeks now. Every time he touched her, every time he tried to really hold her, she pulled away. He had assumed she just needed time. That she was still healing. That she would talk to him when she was ready. But she hadn’t. And he was getting real fucking tired of the guessing game.
“Rosie.” His voice was firm. “What’s wrong?”
She flinched. Actually flinched. It was like a knife straight to his gut.
She hesitated, then forced a bright smile— too bright, too fake. “I’m going to put these up where Maya’s bed is,” she said quickly, grabbing the remaining stars. “I think she’d like that.”
And then, she was gone. Katsuki sat there, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt. He didn’t know what to do. Had he done something wrong? Had he hurt her feelings? Had he said somethin—wait.
His stomach twisted.
Had he hurt her? That night, when she had— when she had gone down on him —was that it? Had he made her uncomfortable? Had he—
His thoughts spiraled, questions slamming into his head one after the other, until finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed answers. And there was only one person who could give them to him.
Before he could second-guess himself, Katsuki grabbed his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found the name he was looking for. The phone barely rang twice before Akira picked up. “Well, well, if it isn’t Mr. Grump,” she teased, amusement clear in her voice. “What can I do for you?”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Rosie’s been acting weird.”
A hum. “The nightmares?”
“I already know about those,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Ah.” Akira paused. “You mean her scar?”
His brows furrowed. “What about her scar?”
Silence. Then—“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Akira groaned. “You’re so fucking stupid.”
Katsuki scowled. “The hell are you talking about?”
“Dumbass,” she huffed. “She’s embarrassed. She thinks you won’t find her attractive anymore because of it.”
Katsuki blinked. Then, his stomach dropped. “…What?”
“You heard me.” Akira sighed. “She’s been avoiding intimacy because she doesn’t want you to see it. She’s scared. Insecure. And instead of, I don’t know, talking to you like a normal person, she’s just bottling it up because that’s what she does.”
Katsuki clenched his jaw, his grip tightening around his phone. That was why? That was the reason she had been pulling away? Because of her scar ? The one that fucker left behind when he stabbed her?
Katsuki’s blood boiled. “Thanks,” he muttered. “Gotta go.” And then, he hung up. He pushed himself up from the bed, pacing the room as he ran a hand through his hair.
How the fuck was he supposed to fix this? How the hell was he supposed to reassure her? To prove to her that a goddamn scar didn’t change a thing? Because if she thought for even a second that he found her anything less than the most beautiful, most breathtaking woman in the fucking world— then she was even dumber than he was .
Katsuki ran a hand down his face, exhaling sharply.
How the fuck was he supposed to bring this up?
It wasn’t like he was good with words. He didn’t do soft, didn’t do delicate. But this— this was delicate. This was her. And he couldn’t just ignore it, couldn’t just pretend he hadn’t learned the reason she had been pulling away.
So, he stood, rolling his shoulders, and made his way to the living room.
She was still there, crouched in the corner, pressing the last few glow-in-the-dark stars to the wall above Maya’s bed. Her long hair spilled over her shoulders, hiding her face from view.
Hiding.
His jaw clenched. “Rosie.” His voice was rough, lower than usual, and she startled slightly at the sound. “Doll,” he murmured, softer this time. “Come here.”
She hesitated. For just a moment. Then, slowly, she stood, her head down as she turned to face him, refusing to meet his eyes.
That wouldn’t do. Not anymore. Reaching out, he grasped her chin, gently but firmly, and tilted her face up until she had no choice but to look at him. “I’m going to talk,” he said quietly. “And you’re going to listen. And then, then , you can talk. Yeah?”
She swallowed hard and nodded.
Katsuki inhaled deeply. “I adore every inch of you,” he said, voice steady, unwavering. “Even the parts that drive me insane—because that’s what makes you, you. Nothing will ever change that. You could stab me, break my heart, push me away, and I’d still fucking adore you.”
Her breath hitched. “So can you explain to me why the hell you think that scar would make me adore you any less?” His grip on her chin loosened, fingers sliding down to cup her jaw. “Why you think it would stop me from finding you attractive?”
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
Katsuki exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Doll, when you’re sick, I still want to touch you. When you’re half-asleep, drooling on my damn pillow, I still think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever fucking seen. A scar isn’t gonna change that.”
He pulled back slightly, running a hand down his own face. “Shit, I have scars.” He gestured vaguely to the long, jagged mark that stretched across his cheek—then, before he could overthink it, he yanked off his shirt, exposing the network of scars that littered his chest.
Her eyes widened.
Grabbing her wrist, he guided her fingers to the largest one—the one right over his heart, the one from when Shigaraki had punched a hole through his fucking chest. “Do you find me unattractive because of my scars?” His voice was quiet now, but laced with something raw. “Do they repulse you?”
Her entire face crumpled.
She shook her head— vehemently, like the thought itself was absurd —but when she opened her mouth to speak, he pressed his thumb against her lips, stopping her.
“Then why the fuck would you think I would be disgusted by yours ?”
The first tear fell before she could stop it. And then another. And another. Her shoulders shook, and she sniffled, trying to hold it all in, trying to hide. But it was too late. She was breaking apart in front of him, piece by piece, and Katsuki wasn’t about to let her do it alone.
“Because—” Her voice cracked, and she brought her hands up to cover her face. “Because I didn’t get it in a war, I didn’t get it fighting a villain, I didn’t get it trying to save someone—” She sucked in a sharp, gasping breath, her whole body trembling. “I got this scar because I’m weak ,” she sobbed, shaking her head violently. “Because some freak is obsessed with me.”
Katsuki’s stomach twisted painfully. She was breaking. And for the first time in weeks, she wasn’t trying to stop it. Then, before he could even think of what to say—she moved.
With shaking hands, she reached for the hem of his shirt, the one she had been wearing, and tore it off, leaving her in nothing but his boxers and a thin pink bra with flowers. She dug her nails into the scar on her abdomen, clawing at it, pressing hard enough that the skin turned red and angry beneath her touch.
Katsuki’s eyes widened. “Oi—”
She didn’t stop. Didn’t even hear him. “He ruined me,” she choked out, voice bordering on manic. “He touched me, he put his hands on me, and now— I can’t get rid of it— ” Her breathing hitched, her fingers pressing harder into the scarred tissue. “I feel filthy —”
Katsuki moved. Fast. He caught her wrists before she could dig any deeper, pulling them away from her wound. She gasped, trying to jerk out of his grip, but he held firm, keeping her hands in his. “Look at me,” he ordered.
She shook her head wildly, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I want my mama,” she whispered, voice so small, so broken . “I want her back—”
Then, just like that— her breathing shattered. It was no longer just crying. It was hyperventilating .
Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the floor, her entire body racked with sobs as she gasped for air. “It’s always gonna be there,” she choked out, curling into herself. “A reminder that—that he touched me, that I couldn’t stop him, that I—” Her breath hitched again—sharp, painful—and then she went limp.
Katsuki caught her before she could hit the ground. “Shit.”
He barely had time to register the fact that she had passed out in his arms before he was lifting her up, cradling her against his chest. His jaw tightened, running his tongue over his teeth.
She had finally let it all out. Finally broken. And now, all he could do was put her back together.
So, without another word, he carried her to bed, holding her close as she drifted into unconsciousness. At least this time—she wouldn’t have to cry herself to sleep alone.
The next time she woke up, Katsuki was still there.
He sat in the living room, his brow furrowed as he filled out paperwork that Hawks had dumped on him earlier that week. The hero was an insufferable bastard, but at least he trusted Katsuki to handle the workload.
Then he heard it.
The soft tap-tap of bare feet against the wooden floor.
He glanced up, expecting her to still be curled up in bed, but instead, there she was—standing in the doorway in nothing but his boxers and a pale pink bra, her hair mussed from sleep. She clutched her phone tightly, frowning as she stared at him.
“I thought you left,” she murmured.
Katsuki exhaled sharply, stretching his arm out in invitation. “Never.” He gave her a lazy smirk. “Now, come cuddle, pretty girl.”
She didn’t hesitate. She was across the room in seconds, climbing onto the couch and curling into his side, her body warm and soft against his. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice barely above a breath. “For breaking down like that.”
Katsuki pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his grip tightening around her waist. “No need to apologize,” he murmured. “I think you needed it.”
She hesitated. “You think so?”
He ran his fingers through her hair, humming in affirmation. “Do you feel better now?”
“…Yeah,” she admitted, voice soft.
“Then that’s all that matters.” He paused, “do you want to do anything today?”
She exhaled, shifting further into him, pulling her phone out. “I just want to stay here today.”
Katsuki glanced down, watching as she buried herself deeper into his side, her body molding against his as she settled in. The pink bra she wore contrasted against her skin, the delicate lace hugging her curves just right. Fuck . She didn’t even have to try to be sexy— cuddled up there half-asleep, wearing his boxers—how the hell was he supposed to focus on paperwork?
Dragging his gaze away, he yanked the pink throw blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over her. “Fine. But you better not distract me, brat.”
She only hummed in response, already immersed in whatever she was reading on her phone.
For a while, they stayed like that—her curled against his side, reading, while he forced himself to focus on the paperwork in front of him. But then she moved. He barely had time to glance up before she returned, standing before him with a handful of lipsticks.
His brow arched. “The hell is this?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she climbed into his lap, purposely knocking the papers out of his hands as she settled against him.
Katsuki huffed. “Oi—”
But then she twisted open a lipstick tube, and he could only watch, amused, as she carefully applied the deep red color to her lips. She smacked them together before leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
When she pulled back, she frowned.
“The hell are you doing, doll?” he asked, eyes narrowing.
“I’ve been meaning to test out some lipsticks,” she said matter-of-factly. “And I need to see if they’re transfer-proof.”
Katsuki blinked.
Then, before he could respond, she grabbed a tissue, wiped the lipstick off her lips, and immediately reached for another shade.
He sighed, letting his head fall back against the couch. “You’re fuckin’ ridiculous.”
But he didn’t stop her. Didn’t push her away as she repeated the process—applying a new shade, kissing some part of his face (his cheek, his jaw, the bridge of his nose), wiping it off her lips, then starting all over again.
He just sat there and let her have her fun. Because, hell—if she was happy, if she was smiling again after everything—then she could use his face as a damn canvas for as long as she wanted.
“Pomchi?”
Katsuki glanced up at her, arching a brow at the soft way she called for him.
She blinked up at him, still sitting in his lap, her lips slightly swollen from pressing kiss after kiss against his skin with her lipstick tests. “Could we go have dinner with the others tonight?”
He studied her, noting the hint of uncertainty in her expression. “Are you sure?”
She nodded, more resolutely this time. “Yes.”
He let out a short hum, searching her face for any hesitation, but all he saw was quiet determination. “Alright,” he finally said.
Rosie beamed at him, pressing one last kiss—this time, just a soft peck—to his lips before hopping off his lap. She disappeared into the bedroom, and when she emerged a few minutes later, Katsuki had to take a slow, measured breath.
She wore a soft cream-colored sweater, slightly oversized, its sleeves covering part of her hands. The skirt she paired it with fell mid-thigh, swishing gently as she moved.
He rolled his tongue over his teeth.
“How do I look?” she asked, tilting her head.
Katsuki’s eyes flicked over her. Too good. Too fucking good. He exhaled sharply. “Perfect.”
Her cheeks flushed prettily at that, and before he could say anything else, she grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the door.
They arrived at Silven’s. It was the usual hangout spot for their group, and as soon as they stepped inside, Katsuki could already hear the familiar laughter of his friends.
Mina was the first to spot them. “ROSIE!” she shrieked, nearly knocking over her drink as she all but launched herself at her.
Katsuki barely stepped aside in time as the rest of their friends quickly followed, flocking around Rosie like a protective circle.
“Finally!” Kirishima grinned, ruffling Rosie’s hair. “It’s been too long, dude! We missed you!”
Uraraka wrapped her in a tight hug, followed closely by Momo and Kanako. “I’m so glad you came,” Momo said warmly, squeezing her hands.
Shoto gave her a soft nod in greeting as he too patted her head, and even Shinso, who usually kept his distance from group affection, clapped a hand on Rosie’s shoulder. “’Bout time you showed up.”
Izuku smiled gently at her. “It’s really good to see you, Rosie.”
Katsuki watched as Rosie stood there, her eyes wide, her lips parting slightly as if she wasn’t sure how to respond to the overwhelming attention. But then— slowly —her expression shifted. She smiled. Not a small, hesitant one. Not the quiet kind she gave when she was pretending to be okay. A real one. Genuine. Bright.
Katsuki let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
They all moved to their usual table, squeezing in together as the chatter picked up instantly. The moment they sat down, a waitress arrived to take their orders, and in typical fashion, the conversation veered toward school.
“Exams are next month,” Kanako groaned, letting her head fall onto the table. “I feel like my brain is already fried.”
“Same,” Uraraka sighed. “I’ve been pulling all-nighters trying to keep up with training and studying.”
Mina gasped dramatically. “I refuse to talk about exams when we’re finally all together. We should be celebrating Rosie coming out with us again!”
Katsuki snorted, shaking his head as the group continued to talk over each other. He didn’t join in. Instead, he just sat back, resting an arm along the back of Rosie’s chair, watching over her as she talked and laughed with their friends.
She was still healing. Still had her struggles. But here, surrounded by their friends, smiling like that— he could see a glimpse of the girl he knew before everything happened. And fuck if he wasn’t going to make sure she kept that smile.
After dinner, they made their way upstairs, where the arcade was lit with neon lights and the soft hum of machines filled the air. The scent of popcorn, old wood, and electronics created a strangely nostalgic atmosphere. Katsuki barely paid attention to any of it—his focus was entirely on Rosie.
She had been quiet during the elevator ride, her fingers lightly tracing the hem of her sweater, her gaze flicking between him and the ceiling like she was debating something. But the second they stepped onto the arcade floor, the hesitance in her shoulders melted away, replaced with something much softer.
She turned to him, eyes glimmering in the flashing lights.
"Come play Space Invaders with me?" she asked, her voice lilting with that slight, hopeful edge that made him weak.
Katsuki smirked. "You sure you wanna challenge me, pretty girl?"
She grinned, reaching for his hand, her fingers wrapping around his wrist as she pulled him toward the machine. "I know I wanna challenge you."
He let her lead him, let her drag him through the arcade, past old-school pinball machines and claw games, before she stopped in front of the Space Invaders cabinet. The screen glowed a dull green, pixelated ships hovering at the top, waiting to be shot down.
Rosie plopped onto the stool, taking the left joystick. "I'll even let you go first."
Katsuki rolled his eyes but didn't argue, taking the seat beside her. He cracked his knuckles, flexed his fingers, and started the game.
He was good. Of course he was. His hand-eye coordination was next-level, and his reflexes were flawless. But halfway through, he could feel her watching him, studying the way he played.
Smart little thing.
By the time it was her turn, she had figured out the pattern of the ships, the way they moved, the way the game wanted you to fail. She played smart, strategic, and by the time she cleared the last wave, the screen flashed WINNER! in bright, pixelated letters.
Rosie gasped before jumping up, pumping her fists in the air.
"Yes! I won!"
Katsuki sat back, arms crossed, watching as she spun in a little circle, her victory dance a mix of giddy hops and clumsy twirls.
He smirked. "Look at you, showin’ off."
She stuck her tongue out at him before grabbing his hands, tugging him off the stool. "C'mon, I wanna play something else!"
"Yeah?" he asked, letting her pull him along. "You just wanna keep winnin'?"
She beamed up at him. "Maybe."
He didn't care. He didn’t care about the games, didn’t care about the flashing lights or the sounds of people around them. All he cared about was the way she smiled.
So, he let her drag him to another machine. Street Fighter.
She won again.
Then Pac-Man.
Won.
Mario Kart.
Won again.
It didn’t matter.
It didn’t matter how many times she beat him, how many times she cheered, how many times she grabbed his arm, laughing, giddy with excitement. Because as long as she was still smiling, as long as that light was still in her eyes. Katsuki would let her win every goddamn time.
Notes:
I'm doing my best to drag out their happiness but it's honestly so hard, especially since someone already caught on to the updated playlist and saw the new songs that were added for the future and holy...anywayyyyyy hope you guys enjoy
Chapter 82: It was like a zombie apocalypse— but instead of blood and guts, it was festive cheer.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki Bakugou is many things.
Strong. Skilled. The best damn hero the world has ever seen.
But festive? Cheerful?
Absolutely the fuck not.
And yet, here he was, on the first day of December, sitting in Aizawa’s class while Tokyo had already been vomited on by Christmas.
The entire city had transformed overnight. Every street was covered in red and green, twinkling lights wrapped around lamp posts like a damn boa constrictor, store windows plastered with BUY NOW FOR THE HOLIDAYS!!! signs in obnoxiously bright fonts. There were Christmas trees on every corner, holiday jingles blaring in every shop— hell, even the damn buses had tinsel on them.
It was like a zombie apocalypse— but instead of blood and guts, it was festive cheer.
And the worst part?
Women.
Mothers, aunts, sisters, girlfriends, and wives. Every single one of them had apparently drank something that turned them into Christmas-obsessed lunatics. And now? Now they were infecting everything.
It was like a war zone, but instead of explosions, there were snowflakes. Instead of battle cries, there were Christmas carols. Instead of fighting for your life , you were being ambushed with holiday decorations and forced to “get in the spirit.”
It was disgusting…Or at least, it would be— if she wasn’t sitting in front of him, making it look so damn cute.
His scowl softened the moment his eyes landed on Rosie. She was perched in her chair, head resting in her palm, humming softly as she listened to Aizawa drone on about exams. Her laptop was open, notes neatly typed out on the screen.
And that goddamn Christmas sweater. Bright red. Stupid. Ugly. With a reindeer on it— drinking hot cocoa while tangled in Christmas lights. Ridiculous. And yet— she made it work.
The sleeves were just a little too long, her fingers barely peeking out as she tapped at her keyboard. The hem of the sweater rested just above the waistband of her short black skirt, her legs crossed, black heeled boots tapping against the floor in rhythm with her humming.
Katsuki sighed, rubbing his temple.
Goddamn it.
If it were anyone else in that obnoxious sweater, he’d be pissed. He’d be rolling his eyes, calling them an idiot, telling them to keep their Christmas cheer away from him. But her? She was too damn adorable. He was losing his mind.
By the time class was dismissed, he grabbed his stuff and fell in line behind Rosie, who was already caught up in conversation with the girls. Hands shoved in his pockets, he watched as she smiled, red-painted lips moving quickly as she laughed at something Jirou said.
“Yo, man.” Kirishima clapped a hand on his shoulder, breaking him out of his trance. “Still on for guys' night?”
“Yeah,” Katsuki grunted, still watching Rosie. “Eight?”
“Hell yeah!” Kirishima pumped his fist in the air.
“Pizza’s on us,” Kaminari smirked.
“I got the beers,” Icy Hot said flatly as he approached.
Deku scratched the back of his neck. “I might be a little late. I have some errands to run first.”
The group made their way outside, the girls leading while the guys trailed behind them. The parking lot was buzzing with students, people piling into cars, the cool December air biting at their skin.
Katsuki unlocked his car, and as soon as they reached it, Rosie climbed into the passenger seat like she always did, settling in comfortably.
He slid into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and shifted into gear, “Can we stop by the store first?”
He blinked, glancing over. “For what?”
She clasped her hands in her lap, tilting her head. “I need to get Christmas decorations for my apartment.”
His eyebrow twitched. Of course she does.
“You don’t have any already?” he muttered, resting his arm against the window.
Before she could answer, it hit him. Right. She didn’t. Because this was her first Christmas without her mom.
His hands gripped the wheel a little tighter. “Yeah,” he said, voice softer than before. “We can do that, doll”
Her face lit up. “Thank you!”
He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as he pulled out of the lot.
Rosie pulled her phone from her pocket, scrolling through something before looking over at him again. “Can we stop at Ishlamare first?” she asked, smiling. “I really want hot cocoa.”
“Yeah, I can do that, doll,” he muttered.
And just like that, Rosie beamed, tapping excitedly on her phone, probably looking up new Christmas decorations to buy. He sighed. This Christmas shit was going to kill him.
Pushing the cart, Katsuki followed Rosie through the crowded store, his hands gripping the handle as he watched her flit from shelf to shelf like an excited little kid.
She was thrilled to be here, humming softly as she sipped her second large hot chocolate of the night, her eyes scanning the silver and white Christmas decorations with sharp precision.
The cart was nearly overflowing now, packed with throw pillows, fuzzy blankets, wreaths, garlands, and way too many ornaments. There were also some silver matte reindeers she had insisted on having, carefully placing them in the cart before crossing another item off her list.
Katsuki barely paid attention to the Christmas music playing overhead, too focused on her —on how she practically skipped down the aisles, completely in her element.
She was adorable.
And he was so screwed.
He wasn’t even annoyed that they had been here for over an hour. Not even a little. Because every time he thought about grumbling, she would glance up at him with those wide, eager eyes, ask his opinion on which silver snowflake pillow was better, and he’d just grunt and say, "Whichever one you like best, pretty girl."
Yeah. He was whipped. She had him wrapped around her finger so easily and she didn’t even try.
Finally, after filling the cart to capacity, Rosie let out a satisfied sigh, tucking her receipt and card into her purse after checkout. Katsuki carried all the bags— because, of course, she wasn’t going to be hauling that shit to the car , and just as they were about to leave, she turned to him with that same bright, dangerous smile.
“Will you help me pick out a tree?”
“Yeah, doll. Anything you want.”
And just like that, she beamed, grabbing his arm and dragging him toward the exit like she was on some kind of mission.
The cold December air hit them as soon as they stepped out of the car, the scent of pine thick in the air. The Christmas tree farm was huge—rows upon rows of trees, some short and stubby, others towering and full. Strings of warm golden lights were draped over the area, illuminating the pathways as families and couples milled about, bundled up in scarves and coats.
Rosie’s gloved fingers tightened around his wrist, tugging him forward. “C’mon, Katsuki!”
Tch. He didn’t even get a second to prepare. With a huff, he followed, shoving his hands into his pockets as she led the way, her breath coming out in small clouds as she sipped her third hot chocolate of the night.
“How the hell can you drink so much of that?” he muttered.
“It’s delicious,” she countered, licking a bit of whipped cream off her lip.
Katsuki snorted, resisting the urge to grab her chin and do it for her. Instead, he focused on the task at hand: finding a damn tree.
Or, more accurately, letting Rosie drag him around until she found the “perfect” tree. She took her time, walking up and down the rows, inspecting the trees as if they were the most important decision of her life.
“This one?” he asked, pointing at a tall, full-bodied tree.
She wrinkled her nose. “Too big.”
Katsuki raised a brow. “What does that mean? I thought the whole point was to get a big tree.”
She shook her head, moving onto the next one. “It has to be just right, not too big, not too small.”
Tch. Here we go. They passed a few more trees, and every time he made a suggestion, she had some specific reason why it wasn’t the one.
“This one?”
“Too thin.”
“This one?”
“Too round.”
He exhaled sharply. “Doll, it’s a damn tree.”
She huffed. “It’s not just a tree, Katsuki! It’s our first Christmas tree together!”
He paused, blinking at her. Something warm settled in his chest. Our first Christmas tree …Yeah. That sounded nice.
He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. Keep looking.”
They walked further down the lot, Rosie still sipping her hot chocolate, occasionally glancing up at him with that little knowing smirk of hers.
He narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“You’re having fun.”
“The hell I am.”
She laughed. “You so are!”
“Tch.” He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
Finally, after an eternity of searching, she gasped. “This one!”
Katsuki turned, following her gaze to a perfectly medium-sized tree, not too big, not too small, with strong branches and the right amount of fullness.
She clapped her hands together. “It’s perfect.”
Katsuki studied it for a moment. …Fine. It was a good tree. “Alright, let’s get it.”
She turned to him with stars in her eyes. “Really?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “Before you change your mind again.”
Rosie grinned, setting her hot chocolate down before stepping closer, arms looping around Katsuki’s shoulders. Before he could even ask what she was up to, she leaned in and crashed her lips against his.
It was hungry, hot, and desperate.
A real kiss—the first in weeks.
Katsuki barely had time to react before she pressed even closer, her hands sliding up into his hair, nails lightly scratching at his scalp in a way that sent a jolt of heat down his spine. He groaned low in his throat, arms instinctively tightening around her waist, pulling her flush against him as he deepened the kiss.
Fuck. He had missed this. Missed her.
Ever since their talk about her scar, she had been slowly regaining her confidence, letting him touch her again, letting herself touch him again. And right now? She wasn’t just kissing him, she was taking .
And he was more than happy to give.
His hands roamed down, settling firmly on her hips as she tipped her head back, granting him even more access. The way she responded to him—the soft gasp against his mouth, the way her fingers curled tighter in his hair was almost enough to make him forget they were still very much in public. Almost .
With all the restraint in the world, Katsuki slowed the kiss, his hands gripping her hips to still her movements before pulling back just enough to break contact. Rosie blinked up at him, lips kiss-swollen, eyes glazed over with something dangerous.
The second she realized what he was doing, she pouted, brows furrowing slightly. He smirked. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against the shell of her ear, voice low and rough. “Quit pouting, pretty girl.” His fingers dug into her hips meaningfully. “I’ll do more than kiss you once we get back to your place.”
Instantly, her entire face turned red. She let out a small, choked noise before burying her face into her scarf, trying and failing to hide her embarrassment.
Katsuki chuckled, squeezing her waist before stepping back. “C’mon,” he murmured, tilting his head toward the tree. “Let’s get this thing home.”
Still flustered beyond belief, Rosie grabbed her hot chocolate with both hands, making a show of sipping it while pointedly avoiding his gaze.
Katsuki smirked, shoving his hands in his pockets as he followed her toward the register, the golden lights overhead reflecting off the very satisfied grin on his face.
Katsuki scowled at the absolute Christmas explosion that had taken over Rosie’s apartment. It was like the fat fucking jolly guy himself had barged in and shit red, white, and silver decorations on every available surface.
Her once soft, muted color scheme of pinks, grays, and whites had been completely overtaken—the couch now draped with plush Christmas-themed blankets, festive pillows stacked neatly at the ends. Twinkling fairy lights wrapped around the curtain rods, glittering snowflakes hung from the ceiling, and don’t even get him started on the ridiculous number of reindeer figurines now occupying her shelves.
And yet, despite the sheer obnoxiousness of it all, Katsuki couldn’t bring himself to be mad. Not when she was so damn happy.
Rosie hummed along to the Christmas music playing softly from her speaker, directing him as he set up the Christmas tree in the corner of the room. She made a little pleased noise when he adjusted it just right before handing him the lights.
“Alright, Pomchi,” she beamed. “Untangle those for me while I finish sorting the ornaments.”
He scoffed but took the tangled mess of wires from her hands, plopping down onto the floor with a deep scowl. Fucking Christmas lights. Who the hell designed these things? How the fuck did they even get tangled like this? He grumbled curses under his breath, fingers working through the knots while Rosie continued sorting through their decorations, happily sipping her hot chocolate.
Minutes passed. Then half an hour. And still, he fought against the demon tangle of doom.
Rosie giggled every now and then at his muttered curses, shooting him an amused glance as she strung hooks onto ornaments. "Need help, darling?" she teased.
He growled, determined. "No. I got it."
Another five minutes passed before, finally, the lights came free. He let out a victorious grunt, standing up as he yanked the now perfectly untangled strand in front of him.
Rosie clapped. "My hero!"
"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, but there was a hint of smug satisfaction in his voice.
With the lights sorted, he got to work wrapping them around the tree, making sure each section was evenly covered. Rosie handed him ornaments, watching as he carefully hooked them onto the branches.
“Here— this one is special, ” she murmured, holding up a delicate white ornament with gold detailing.
Katsuki took it, reading the words written in neat cursive. "First Christmas Together – 2024."
He swallowed, glancing at her. Rosie’s cheeks were pink, but her smile was soft and warm. “…Tch.” He turned, hooking the ornament onto the perfect branch in the front.
They continued decorating, Katsuki moving the heavier ornaments lower while Rosie placed the more delicate ones higher up. Once everything was in place, she reached for the final touch—the star.
Katsuki arched a brow. "How the hell are you gonna reach the top?"
Rosie blinked, looking between the tree and her height before pouting. "...Shit."
He rolled his eyes, kneeling in front of her. "C’mon, get on my shoulders."
Her eyes widened. "W-Wait, really?"
"Unless you got a better plan, princess ."
She grinned before carefully climbing onto his shoulders, her laughter ringing in his ears as he straightened with ease. “Whoa!” She wobbled slightly before gripping his hair for balance.
"Oi, watch the hair!"
She giggled, holding up the star and carefully setting it on the highest branch. Once in place, she clapped her hands together excitedly. “It looks perfect!”
Katsuki smirked. "Yeah, yeah, good job, shortcake."
She gasped. "Did you just call me shortcake?!"
"Shut up before I drop your ass."
Rosie giggled uncontrollably as he gently lowered her back to the ground. Once she was steady, she turned to admire the finished tree, her hands clasped together with a dreamy expression. “It’s perfect,” she murmured.
Katsuki huffed, crossing his arms. "Yeah, it's nice or whatever."
She rolled her eyes before turning to him with that dangerous little smile. “Can we watch a Christmas movie before you have to leave?”
He exhaled, shaking his head. "Yeah, alright."
Rosie beamed, immediately tugging him over to the couch. She grabbed the remote, flipping through movies before settling on something overly cheesy and dramatic. Katsuki groaned but let it slide, throwing an arm over the back of the couch as she curled up beside him.
The movie played, half-forgotten, as Rosie sipped her drink, occasionally sneaking glances at him. He felt her fidgeting this entire time, he knew she was thinking, but he couldn’t figure out what it was that was running through that pretty little head of hers. But he did know that she had been planning on something. And it wasn’t until halfway through the movie that she hesitated before slowly shifting.
Katsuki barely had time to react before she was suddenly climbing into his lap, her small hands gripping the fabric of his hoodie as she settled against him. Her cheeks were tinged rosy pink, her gaze hesitant yet determined as she looked up at him.
His hands instinctively found her waist, fingers curling slightly as he took in the uncertainty flickering in her expression.
“What’s the matter, doll?” His voice was low, his thumb brushing against the soft material of her sweater.
She bit her lip, the action drawing his full attention to her mouth. “I want to try,” she murmured softly, barely above a whisper.
Katsuki stilled. Try? His jaw tensed. “Are you sure?”
Her grip on his hoodie tightened, like she was grounding herself. “Yes,” she breathed. “I’ve missed you… missed being close to you like this.”
Something inside of him snapped. His fingers grasped her face, tilting it up as his lips descended onto hers without hesitation. The kiss started slow, deliberate—his lips pressing against hers with a quiet hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks.
Weeks of wanting. Weeks of holding back. Weeks of aching for her but knowing she wasn’t ready. But now?
Now she was in his lap, her hands clinging to him, her lips parting so perfectly under his own, and he wasn’t about to let this moment slip away.
His grip on her waist tightened, pulling her flush against him as the kiss deepened. She let out a soft noise, one that sent a sharp, electric jolt straight through him, igniting something wild and possessive in his chest.
Fuck. He missed this. Missed the way she felt against him. Missed the soft, intoxicating warmth of her lips. Missed the way she let him take and take and take from her, like she was something sacred and he was a sinner with no intention of repenting.
Katsuki’s hands roamed, sliding down her sides, tracing the curve of her waist. His fingers curled into the fabric of her sweater as he kissed her harder, his lips moving with an almost obsessive desperation.
She moaned softly into his mouth, her fingers tangling into his hair, pulling him in closer. That sound.
Katsuki growled, tilting his head, deepening the kiss further as he devoured her like a man starved. He could feel the way her body trembled against him, could feel the way she melted so perfectly into his touch.
His lips left hers only to trail down to her jaw, then lower, his hot breath fanning against her skin as he nipped at the sensitive spot just below her ear.
“Fuck, Rosie…” His voice was raw, hoarse with hunger. His hands slid beneath the hem of her sweater, fingertips brushing the bare skin of her waist. She shivered, arching slightly, pressing herself closer to him.
That was it. That was the breaking point.
His mouth found hers again, fierce and consuming, swallowing the soft whimper that escaped her lips. The world around them blurred, reduced to nothing but the heat between them—the way she felt, the way she tasted, the way her body molded perfectly against his own.
This wasn’t just kissing. This was desperation, longing, as weeks of his restraint and self-control snapping like a live wire.
He didn’t care about anything else— only her.
Only the way she sighed so prettily into his mouth, only the way her fingers gripped him like she was scared he’d disappear, only the way she let him have all of her in this moment. His teeth scraped her bottom lip, drawing a sharp, breathy gasp from her—one that sent a dark thrill straight through him.
“Shit, Rosie,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against hers as he fought to catch his breath, his hands still gripping her like he couldn’t let go.
Her eyes were dazed, her lips swollen, her breath coming out in soft little pants. And fuck—if she wasn’t the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Katsuki’s breath was ragged as he held Rosie close, his fingers digging into her waist like he was afraid she might disappear. The heat of her body pressed against his, the soft weight of her in his lap, her dazed eyes, her lips swollen, her breath coming out in soft little pants. And fuck—if she wasn’t the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“Fuck, doll,” he whispered against her lips, his voice rough and unsteady. He could still taste her, still feel the way she melted against him, her fingers curling into his shirt like she never wanted to let go.
“I need more…” she murmured, her voice breathy, needy, desperate.
His stomach tightened at her words. He knew what she was saying, what she was asking for. But he wouldn’t rush this. Not after everything. Not when she was still healing— not just physically, but in the ways that no one could see.
Katsuki swallowed hard, running his hands along her sides, feeling the warmth of her through her sweater. “You sure, babydoll?” His voice was low, almost a growl, but there was hesitation there too—because he needed her to be absolutely certain.
Rosie nodded, her big, trusting eyes locked onto his. “Yes. I’ve missed you,” she admitted, her fingers sliding up, resting over his chest. “Missed being close to you like this…”
Something inside him snapped. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He had to feel her.
With a rough exhale, he grabbed the hem of her sweater and yanked it over her head. She gasped at the sudden motion, her hair tumbling messily over her shoulders as she shivered under his intense stare. His hands were on her in an instant, smoothing over the soft, warm skin of her back, her ribs, her waist, committing and memorizing every inch of her like he was afraid he’d forget.
“Fuck, Rosie…” His voice was hoarse as he leaned in, his lips trailing from her jaw down the side of her neck. He kissed, nipped, and licked at every inch of skin he could reach, drawing out the sweetest, breathiest sounds from her lips. She arched against him, pressing herself closer, and his grip on her tightened. She was so soft. So warm. And she was his.
Katsuki’s hands slid lower, caressing the curve of her back, his fingers ghosting along the bare skin just above the waistband of her skirt. His lips trailed lower, pressing heated kisses along the dip of her collarbone, before moving even lower.
And then he saw it.
The scar.
That ugly, painful reminder of everything she had been through. The long, jagged mark that stretched diagonally across the left side of her abdomen—where that bastard had stabbed her.
He felt her tense immediately, her body stiffening in his arms, her breath hitching. Ah. So she still felt insecure about it. He stared at the scarred flesh, as it was the very reminder of why she had secluded herself from everyone, even him. This was why she had shied away from his touch for so long. She thought he’d see the scar and… what? Find her less beautiful? Love her any less?
“Tch.” His jaw clenched. That was never fucking happening.
His hands slid up her sides, strong and firm, his touch grounding. “Look at me, baby,” he murmured, voice softer now. He waited until she hesitantly met his gaze, eyes filled with uncertainty.
Then, without another word, he kissed the scar. Slow. Reverent.
His lips brushed over the damaged skin, his hands gripping her thighs as he worshipped the mark she was so self-conscious about. He kissed along the scar, lips trailing delicately over every inch of it, showing her— proving to her —that he didn’t give a single fuck about it.
He loved her. All of her. It is unconditional, wholly and all consuming what he felt for her.
Rosie gasped, her fingers threading into his hair. “ Katsu —” Her voice broke, raw with emotion.
“Shh,” he whispered against her skin, kissing the scar again, this time with even more devotion. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, Rosie.” His voice was deep, gravelly with emotion, his hands gripping her like he never wanted to let go. “Doesn’t matter what happened. Doesn’t matter what scars you have. You’re mine. Got it?”
She let out a soft, choked sound, her fingers tightening in his hair. He felt her trembling, felt the weight of all of her insecurities as they slowly started to crumble. Katsuki pulled back slightly, lifting his head to look at her again. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. He reached up, cupping her face in his hands.
“Say it,” he murmured, his thumbs stroking over her cheekbones.
She swallowed thickly. “I’m yours,” she whispered.
His heart pounded. “No one else’s,” he growled before crashing his lips against hers again.
“Just yours,” she whimpered. “Only yours.”
He sat back on his heels, breathing a little harder, heat blooming in his chest as he stared down at the girl lying beneath him. Rosie. His Rosie.
She looked up at him with wide eyes, cheeks flushed, her soft pink hair splayed across the couch like a halo. She wore nothing now but her bra and panties—delicate white lace embroidered with tiny flowers in soft pinks, sunny yellows, and lavender purples. The kind of set that matched her soul. Soft. Gentle. Beautiful.
But all Katsuki could see—what drew his gaze, what clenched painfully at his heart—was the scar. That pale mark that stretched across her left side, a jagged reminder of what she went through, what she barely survived.
Her arms twitched like she wanted to cover it.
“Don’t,” he whispered, catching her wrist. His voice was low, almost reverent.
She hesitated, lips parting slightly. She always tried to hide it. Even now, even with him. And that thought nearly shattered him.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said again, with more weight in his voice. More meaning. His hands cupped her waist gently, thumbs tracing over the line of her hips, but deliberately avoiding the scar—only to lean in and press his lips to it instead.
Rosie gasped, her fingers tightening in the couch
“This?” he murmured, kissing the scar again. “Doesn’t change a damn thing.”
He brushed his mouth over her skin—gentle kisses that lingered, traveling along her side with slow, worshipful reverence. “You’re still the most beautiful damn thing I’ve ever seen, and this scar?” He kissed the center of it. “It means you lived. It means you fought. It means I didn’t lose you. ”
Her breath hitched, her eyes beginning to glisten. “Katsuki…”
He leaned up, bracing himself over her again, his lips brushing hers. “You’re still you, Rosie. My girl. My sunshine. My moonlight. Everything. I don’t care about some scar. I care about you. Every inch of you.”
One hand cupped her cheek while the other ran up her side, slow and soft. “You don’t have to be afraid around me. You don’t have to hide.”
Rosie’s eyes fluttered closed as he kissed her again—slower this time, deeper, like he was trying to pour all of that reassurance, all of that love, into her through his lips.
He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling. “You’re still everything to me, scar and all,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “And I’m gonna keep reminding you until you believe it.”
She didn’t say anything at first, just wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held him close. But her kiss—soft and trembling—said enough.
Pulling away from the kiss, he crept down to between her legs, he dragged her panties down, his eyes on her, before he tossed her panties to the side. His eyes flickered to her pretty pink cunt that soaked the silk fabric, and by the gods, she is pretty.
Slipping two fingers inside her, he reached that spongy little spot that had her immediately mewing and whimpering as he curled his fingers against it. “Like that pretty girl?”
Desperately she nodded.
“Words pretty girl, you know the rules.”
“Y–yes sir,”
“Good girl.”
Leaning down, he tongued her clit, the sweet taste of her arousal filling his mouth as he thrusted his fingers into her lazily as he lapped at her. He missed the taste of her, missed the feeling of her running her hands through his hair and yanking it as she panted and moaned.
“Katsu…!” she cried out sharply as he nipped at her clit before languidly lapping at it.
Fuck, she sounded so beautiful. Pushing his tongue deeper inside her, he used his thumb pressing against her clit. She began to unintelligibly babble as he lapped at her sweet sticky arousal that leaked out of her pretty pink pussy.
Katsuki felt her grind her pussy into his face as she closed her thighs around his head, his name ripping from her lips as her orgasm crashed over her when he had twirled his thumb over the little bundle of nerves. He didn’t think he could hear anything more beautiful than her name falling off her lips so sweetly. She stared at him, eyes half-lidded as she whimpered.
But he wasn’t done. Not by a long shot, because he had missed her, craved her. He kept licking, sucking, and nipping as he dragged another orgasm out of her, again and again.
“Katsuki…darling, I can’t….” she sobbed, makeup running down her face as she tried desperately to catch her breath.
Her whole body shook underneath him. Even as she begged, he knew she didn’t mean it, as she kept her thighs locked around his head. So he continued licking, slipping his fingers back into her, curling.
“Such a good girl for me,” he rasped. “Want me to make you come again babydoll?”
She nodded, her vision hazy as she blinked slowly at him.
“Use your words pretty girl,” he murmured. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
“I want to come again,” she panted.
“Good girl,” he nipped at her inner thighs, causing her to hiss and cry out. He lapped at the bruised area before kissing it sweetly.
He thinks he’s obsessed. Never before had he cared so much about giving oral to a woman before, he had done it before but only because he wanted it in return. But of course, just like everything else, Rosie changed that for him.
Something about watching her orgasm with his fingers and tongue alone made it hypnotizing to watch. Just like now, he sucked on her clit, swirling his tongue around the small bud as he thrusted and curled his fingers inside her. Her orgasming is loud, messy, and downright addicting.
Fuck, she looked so blissfully happy, warm, and vulnerable like this.
Once she fully came down from it, did she release him from her shaking thighs. Sitting up, he presented his soaked fingers to her.
“Be a good girl and suck.”
Taking his fingers into her mouth, she began to suckle them, her eyes wide as she stared at him. He parts his fingers, stretching them wide to fill out her splotchy and makeup smeared cheeks. Taking hold of her tear and saliva slicked cheek with his free hand, he curls his fingers inside of her mouth, before bringing them together before he pushes them down towards the back of her throat. Tears pour down her splotchy cheeks, and he draws his fingers back to let her breathe.
He’s so fucking starved for her. For every whimper that slipped from her parted lips, for the little gasps she made when he touched her just right, for the way her whole body melted into his hands like she was made for him. The little moans and whines when he kissed and nipped at her in certain spots. It was never just physical—never had been. It was obsession. It was love. It was worship.
“Come here,” he murmured, his voice hoarse as he gently helped her sit up.
Her body was soft and pliant in his arms, her limbs trembling just slightly as she leaned heavily into his chest. He held her there for a moment, his palm resting against her spine, the other smoothing her hair back from her damp forehead. She was flushed and glowing, so delicate in the aftermath, and yet so entirely his.
“You did so good, baby,” he whispered against her hair, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “So damn pretty, so perfect.”
She let out a soft breath, nuzzling into his neck like a kitten seeking warmth, and he chuckled quietly, scooping her up into his arms with ease.
“Time to take care of my girl,” he murmured.
He carried her into the bathroom, flipping on the soft overhead light, letting the warmth of the steam fill the space as he ran the bath. The water was just the right temperature, and he added a little of the floral bath soak she kept in her cabinet, the one that reminded him of her. All sweet and floral.
He stripped off her silk and lace bra before he helped settle her into the water, she let out the smallest sigh, her eyes fluttering shut as he knelt beside the tub and ran the sponge gently over her skin. His touch was reverent, his praise constant.
“You’re so good for me,” he murmured, trailing the sponge along her collarbone. “So damn obedient. So beautiful.”
She watched him with half-lidded eyes, mesmerized by the way he looked at her like she hung the stars. He washed her slowly, carefully, like she was something precious—because to him, she was.
When he lifted her out, wrapping her in a towel, he kissed her shoulder, her cheek, her temple, his voice low and tender. “Let me take care of you, sweetheart.”
She nodded, unable to find the words, only the softest whimper leaving her lips as he dried her off and helped her into a pair of his softest sweatpants and one of his old sweaters that nearly swallowed her whole. She looked up at him, eyes glassy and wide, and he leaned down to kiss her again—soft and slow.
“You’re mine, yeah?” he whispered.
“All yours,” she breathed.
He pulled her against him then, arms wrapped around her as they stood in the quiet. And she let him hold her, her entire body curled into his, warm and drowsy. Pretty. Pliant. Completely his. And he loved her more than he knew what to do with.
Her phone began ringing in the next room, she hummed softly. “Must be Mina calling to let me know that she’s on her way.”
“Let me get you settled and then I’ll head out,” he murmured into her ear.
Notes:
I apologize for the lack of updates. I got into a car accident last week and am now unable to use my left hand until further notice. For those who follow me on Tumblr, you already knew this and I thank you for checking in on me.
If you want updates, both irl and fanfic then I seriously recommend following me on tumblr as I’m mostly on there. My tumblr is ValentineHeart14
Please thank my boyfriend for typing up the rest of this chapter for me as I had it half written last week. My boyfriend offered to type it for me after I tried to type the rest of it myself and even scolded me for not resting my left hand like I’m supposed to. Even know, he is typing this authors note for me. (feels so weird to talk aloud about my fanfic while he sits here and types it up)
I don’t know when I’ll go back to daily updates but I just wanted to post this chapter to keep you guys tide over until then💖
This chapter is dedicated to 2elusional (also happy birthday to you, hope you have a lovely day) and goodandgone (I don’t know your username here just on tumblr). Thank you so much for reaching out and checking in on me and the lovely advice because not updating had me very worried about my readers being angry with me.
Chapter 83: Why do tacos taste better after tattoos?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie tucked her legs beneath her on the plush couch, the stem of her wine glass cool between her fingers as she took a slow sip of strawberry wine. She buried herself further into the sweatpants and sweater she wore, her body still thrumming with pleasure. Her thighs and hips were still shaking from being overstimulated by the several orgasms that Katsuki had given her.
He helped her settle into the living room, kissing her and reassuring her that all she had to do is call him and he would come running to take his place at her side again. That he would kick out the girls and he would covet her for the night.
The living room was awash in the soft amber glow of string lights draped over the curtain rods and around picture frames. The smell of fruity alcohol, popcorn, and a burning vanilla candle made the entire apartment feel like a cozy, buzzing bubble of comfort and chaos.
Mina sat cross-legged on the rug, a fuzzy throw blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a cape as she sorted through a mess of colorful beads. “Okay, hear me out—pink and gold are definitely the superior friendship bracelet color combo.”
“Maybe for you,” Momo chimed in with a small laugh, daintily stringing pastel beads onto white cord. “But I think blue and silver have a more elegant vibe. Like… they say, ‘I care about you, but I’m also very classy about it.’”
Rosie giggled, leaning over to grab more thread from the little crafting box Mina had brought. “I don’t know, I think I’m leaning more toward peach and lilac. Something soft and happy, you know?”
Uraraka, perched at the edge of the armchair with her cheeks slightly flushed from the wine, grinned. “As long as you’re not using red and black. That combo screams ‘vengeful ex’ energy.”
The girls burst into laughter, clinking their glasses together like they were toasting to inside jokes and mild chaos.
“So, has anyone actually started studying for finals yet?” Mina asked, her tone sing-song and teasing as she raised an eyebrow at the others.
“Ugh, don’t remind me!” Uraraka groaned, flopping back in the chair with a dramatic sigh. “I swear I’m retaining nothing! Aizawa is going to murder me.”
“I’ve been reviewing a little every night,” Momo admitted, though she looked sheepish about it. “But I think we should plan a study group. Maybe Sunday?”
Rosie twirled a strand of hair around her finger as she nodded. “That sounds good. Katsuki’s got his own study thing with the guys, and I know I’ll get distracted if I try to study with him anyway.”
“Oh, you definitely would,” Mina teased, nudging her foot. “You guys have been basically attached at the hip lately.”
Rosie laughed behind her glass, the wine making her cheeks a little warmer. “Can you blame me? He’s been really sweet lately. He even helped me hang lights in the apartment.”
“That’s true love,” Uraraka nodded solemnly. “If a guy willingly untangles Christmas lights with you, he’s a keeper.”
Rosie smiled into her glass, eyes soft. “He is.”
They lapsed into a peaceful silence, the sound of soft pop music playing in the background as their fingers moved over beads and thread. Every now and then someone would hum along to the music or giggle at the absurdity of trying to tie off knots with wine-loosened fingers.
“Okay, I’m calling it now,” Mina said, holding up her nearly-finished bracelet triumphantly. “Whoever gets the highest score on the next practice exam gets first pick of dessert on movie night.”
“And the lowest has to treat the rest to coffee,” Momo added with a small, knowing smirk.
“You guys are evil,” Uraraka groaned, but she was already nodding. “Deal.”
Rosie grinned and held up her nearly finished bracelet, the pastel pink and blue beads glimmering softly under the warm string lights. “Then I guess I better make this the luckiest friendship bracelet ever.”
The girls laughed, raising their wine glasses in unison.
“To good grades, great wine, and even better friends!” they chimed, clinking their glasses together in the center of their little circle.
The apartment echoed with their laughter, the stress of upcoming exams temporarily pushed aside by the warmth of wine and the sparkle of friendship. After some focused crafting (and not-so-steady hands), the four of them sat back proudly, admiring their handmade sets of friendship bracelets.
One by one, they began gifting them to each other, the act feeling almost ceremonial.
Uraraka beamed as she slipped her four bracelets onto her wrist. Hers was a beautiful mix of soft pink, navy blue, white, hot pink, and brown, adorned with adorable pink enamel heart charms. “These are so cute! I love how each one still feels like us.”
Mina’s bracelets were bright and full of energy—soft pink, yellow, turquoise, and purple beads, strung with little enamel flowers and a bead spelling out her name in the center. “Tell me this doesn’t scream ‘iconic,’” she said with a wink.
Momo’s had a more sophisticated feel—red, black, silver, white, and gold, with tiny Russian nesting doll charms that shimmered under the light. “It’s so elegant, just like you,” Rosie smiled, slipping hers onto her wrist.
Rosie’s bracelets were delicate and dreamy: soft pinks, pale blues, snowy whites, and shimmering silver, with little silver butterflies and tiny strawberry enamel charms. “You really made yours look like a dessert,” Uraraka teased, admiring the details.
“I mean... would it really be mine if it didn’t look like something sweet?” Rosie joked with a giggle.
They all leaned back into the couch cushions, a comfortable lull settling in.
After a long sip of her wine, Rosie blinked thoughtfully at the last drops in her glass. “I think I want to get another tattoo.”
The room went still for a second.
Mina practically bounced in place, eyes wide with excitement. “Wait, what?! Yes! Where? What is it?! Oh my god, tell us everything!”
Uraraka tilted her head, clearly intrigued. “Really? What brought that on?”
Momo, ever the calm voice of reason, arched a brow. “Are you sure, Rosie? That’s a pretty big decision—again.”
Rosie nodded slowly, her fingers toying with the edge of her empty glass. “Yeah. It’s not a whim, I promise. It’s something I want... something I need to do for myself.”
Mina leaned in with a gleeful gasp. “Okay but we have to go with you! It’s basically tradition at this point!”
“I wouldn’t let you go alone anyway,” Momo added with a soft smile.
Rosie beamed, heart warm and fuzzy from both the wine and the support. “Then let’s go.”
The girls stepped into the tattoo parlor they’d visited once before, the sharp chill of the night air still clinging to their coats. The inside was just as they remembered—bathed in blue and violet neon light, with soft pinks glowing from cursive signs that read things like “ Ink & Soul” and “Art is Pain” . Music played low from hidden speakers, and the faint scent of antiseptic and ink filled the air.
Artwork covered the walls in framed displays and pinned design sheets, showcasing everything from delicate florals to bold blackwork. It felt like stepping into another world—one full of meaning, permanence, and personal expression.
Behind the counter sat a tall woman with cropped sapphire blue hair and full-sleeve tattoos on both arms. She looked up from a sketchpad, blinking slowly at the sight of them.
“Oh no,” she said dryly, a brow raising. “You girls drunk again?”
All four of them broke into sheepish smiles.
“Noooo,” Mina drawled playfully.
“Just a little wine,” Uraraka added innocently.
“We’re fine,” Momo said calmly, smoothing her skirt.
Rosie stepped forward, standing a little straighter. “I’m here for a tattoo.”
The artist set her pencil down, resting her chin in her hand. “You decided on something?”
Rosie nodded, her voice quiet but certain. “Yeah. I know exactly what I want.”
The artist’s lips curved into a knowing smile as she rose from behind the counter. “Alright then. Come on back.”
Rosie turned to look at her friends, who gave her thumbs-up and goofy grins. With a flutter of nerves and excitement bubbling in her chest, she followed the woman toward the back of the parlor, the blue glow fading behind her.
After getting her tattoo, Rosie and the girls made their way next door to the taco shop, the salty aroma of seasoned meat and fried shells drawing them in like moths to a flame. They sat at one of the outdoor metal tables under a wide red umbrella, their laughter echoing softly down the street.
Cheap margaritas in bright plastic cups clinked on the table as they dug into a glorious mess of crunchy tacos, soft tortillas, queso-covered nachos, and an irresponsibly large side of guac.
“These are so good,” Mina moaned, eyes fluttering dramatically as she took another bite. “Why do tacos taste better after tattoos?”
“Everything tastes better after tattoos,” Rosie giggled, wiping salsa from the corner of her mouth.
“Let’s take a selfie!” Uraraka said brightly, already holding up her phone.
Rosie took out her own phone instead. “No, no—lighting’s better on mine.” The girls crowded in close, their faces lit with happy exhaustion and a little wine fuzz. The snap of the photo caught their bracelets glittering in the faint glow of the taco shop’s string lights.
Without thinking twice, Rosie posted it with a simple caption: 🌮✨ Inked & Stuffed ✨🌮
She hadn’t even finished her taco when her phone buzzed.
Pomchi 💥: Is that the place next to the tattoo parlor?
Rosie smirked. Rosie: Maybeeeee 😇
Pomchi 💥:Babydoll, did you get another tattoo?
She took a long sip of her strawberry margarita, cheeks flushed with warmth and mischief. Rosie: Maybeeeee~
Pomchi 💥: Where is it?
Rosie:Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy~
Pomchi 💥: Tch. You’re such a little tease.
Rosie: You love it. Besides... you’ll just have to wait and see... when the girls leave tomorrow
A full minute of silence. Then—buzz. Pomchi 💥: ...You’re gonna kill me.
She grinned wickedly to herself, then snapped a picture of her halfway through devouring a taco, cheeks full and eyes glinting with trouble.
Rosie: You sure you can handle me, Dynamight?
The photo sent—and just seconds later, another came through.
A shirtless Katsuki, drenched in sweat, muscles glistening under the harsh gym lights, smirking at the camera like he knew exactly what he was doing. In the blurry background, Kirishima was mid-rep, laughing at something with his hair tied up.
Rosie nearly choked on her taco.
Pomchi 💥: Handle you? Babydoll, I’d ruin you.
She stared at the screen, her heart doing a full somersault. Her fingers hesitated for only a second before she typed: Rosie: Promises, promises...
Pomchi 💥: Not a promise, doll. A guarantee.
Her thighs pressed together instinctively under the table.
Rosie: Better be ready for me tomorrow then. I’ll be freshly inked... and freshly showered 😉
Pomchi 💥: Don’t test me. I’ll skip cooldown and run straight to you.
She bit her lip, cheeks warm, and hid her smile behind her margarita glass. Mina eyed her knowingly. “Who’s got you blushing that hard, Rosie?” she asked, voice teasing.
Rosie grinned into her straw, then lifted her phone to snap one more picture—this time of just her smiling as she drank her margarita.
Rosie 🩷: Hope you’re not too tired, babe. Tomorrow... you’re all mine💋
Sinking deep into the couch cushions, Rosie let out a soft sigh of contentment, her freshly showered hair wrapped up in a fluffy towel as the soft glow of fairy lights bathed the room in warmth. The apartment smelled faintly of chocolate from the cake they were currently demolishing, the air cool and filled with the hum of laughter and occasional screeches from Mina.
They had all needed to shower when they got back to her house, where she needed to after Uraraka accidentally knocked over the pitcher of margarita and got it all over them. All four girls were now in matching pajamas—Rosie’s were soft pink with tiny strawberries, Momo’s a deep navy satin, Uraraka’s covered in tiny bunnies, and Mina had gone full chaos with neon tie-dye.
They were all curled up with throw blankets, a pile of half-eaten cake slices and various pints of ice cream stacked on the coffee table, spoons sticking out like little flags of victory.
On the screen, Mina was going feral .
She sat on the floor in front of the TV, legs crossed, bright pink headset over her ears, gripping the controller like her life depended on it. Her nails were painted glittery yellow, matching the chaotic energy she was exuding as she battled Kirishima in a brutal one-on-one match.
“EAT IT, RED RIOT!” she screeched through the mic, her grin borderline evil as she landed a critical hit. “You think just ‘cause you’ve got big arms and pretty hair you can beat me?! THINK AGAIN!”
“Did she just say pretty hair ?” Momo asked, blinking slowly.
Uraraka giggled, digging her spoon into a pint of strawberry ice cream. “I think she’s trying to confuse him.”
“She’s doing a damn good job,” Rosie laughed, holding a forkful of cake mid-air as she watched Mina scream “BOOM, BABY!” into her mic while Kirishima's in-game character rag-dolled off a cliff.
The girls erupted into cheers, throwing pillows at Mina while she pumped both fists into the air like she’d just won the Olympics.
“That’s my bestie!” Rosie laughed, nearly choking on cake. “Wipe the floor with him!”
Mina turned her head just enough to smirk at them, eyes gleaming with victory. “Who’s next? I’m on fire tonight!”
“I don’t think I’m mentally or emotionally prepared for that,” Uraraka said, shaking her head as she leaned her head on Momo’s shoulder.
“I second that,” Momo agreed, although a small smile played at her lips as she watched Mina re-queue the match.
Rosie curled tighter into her throw blanket, ice cream in one hand, her phone in the other, already wondering if she should do a one v one against Katsuki since they were all together right now. The energy in the apartment was electric and warm—late-night sugar highs, cozy pajamas, soft giggles, and shared victories echoing like music in the air.
And as Mina began taunting Kirishima again—“C’mon, baby, don’t hold back, let’s see that Unbreakable form, huh?!”—Rosie couldn’t help but smile to herself.
Notes:
Another chapter written by my lovely adoring boyfriend, he took today off to come pick me up from college and drive me home. Not to mention, he brought me lunch and ice cream because fries and ice cream? Top tier combo😩😭 I don’t deserve him.
Chapter 84: Guess I better get used to having three girls running my life
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The city was quiet—eerily so, the kind of quiet that only came in the early mornings of 3 am in the cold hush of December. Katsuki stepped off the curb and into the parking lot behind the HPSC building, his breath visible in the frigid air. Patrol had run longer than usual. He was bone-tired, every part of him aching in that dull way he’d grown used to over the years, and all he wanted was a shower, Rosie in his arms, and maybe some leftover takeout if he was lucky.
He unlocked his car with a sharp click and was just about to open the door when he heard it.
A soft, pitiful sound. A mewl.
He paused, one brow furrowed, his eyes scanning the empty lot.
Then he saw it. Curled into the shadow of a nearby dumpster, so small it could’ve been mistaken for trash, was a tiny gray kitten. Its fur was matted and damp, body trembling as it crouched low to the ground. Its eyes—bright, startling blue—were wide and filled with fear, watching him like he might crush it under his boot.
He froze.
Something in his chest pulled tight, painfully so. That look. That fear. That helpless little body, cold and trembling against the elements.
He saw her. Rosie.
The way she’d looked the first day he met her, when everyone surrounded her, overwhelming her, speaking all at once and not giving her a chance to talk, to breathe. Pale and trembling, trying to hide her vulnerability behind a brave front but failing miserably.
Katsuki crouched slowly, careful not to startle it. “Hey,” he said gruffly, voice lower than usual, gentler than anyone but Rosie ever got to hear. “What the hell’re you doin’ out here, huh?”
The kitten didn’t move. Just curled in tighter, as if trying to make itself invisible.
His throat worked, emotions pressing harder against his ribs. He reached out a gloved hand, fingers open and steady. “C’mere,” he murmured.
The kitten stayed frozen for a moment longer… and then, slowly—so painfully slow it made something ache in his chest—it inched forward. One tiny paw. Then another. Until finally, it pressed its small head into his palm, as if it had given up fighting. Given up running.
Katsuki exhaled a quiet breath. “Shit,” he muttered, running his hand over the kitten’s damp fur. “You’re just like her.”
With one hand, he scooped it up, tucking the trembling body against his chest. It was light. Too light. And it didn’t make a single sound, just stayed curled against his warmth like he was the only safe thing left in the world.
He carried it to his car, cradled carefully in one arm, and opened the door. The second he set it down in the passenger seat, he turned on the engine and cranked the heat. Immediately, the vents blew warm air into the cabin.
But the kitten had other plans.
Before he could even shift into drive, it had clumsily climbed up the center console and crawled into his lap, tiny paws kneading at the fabric of his pants before it collapsed in a tight little ball. Fast asleep within seconds, its breathing soft and shallow.
Katsuki stared down at it for a long moment.
Then, slowly, he smiled.
“Rosie’s gonna lose her damn mind,” he murmured, one hand gently stroking down the kitten’s bony back.
It didn’t even stir, just leaned further into his touch like it knew him. Like it trusted him completely. He looked out the windshield into the frozen night, one hand on the wheel, the other resting protectively over the kitten.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “You’re comin’ home with me.”
And as he drove through the sleeping city, the cold wind rattling softly against the windows, all he could think about was how this fragile little thing was going to end up wrapped in a pink blanket, curled up in Rosie’s lap while she made up some ridiculous name and fed it treats it wasn’t supposed to have.
Just like Rosie, it had stumbled into his life when he wasn’t expecting it.
And just like Rosie, he already knew—He wasn’t letting it go.
Katsuki stepped out of the bathroom, hair still damp, his shirt sticking slightly to his skin from the steam. He ran a towel through his hair once more, dressed down in just gray sweats and a black T-shirt. As he looked into the living room, he snorted under his breath.
The tiny gray kitten hadn’t moved an inch from where he’d left it—still curled up on Rosie’s ridiculously soft, bubblegum-pink throw blanket that was draped over the couch like it belonged there. Its little sides rose and fell gently, completely passed out.
Then— Click. The rattle of a key in the lock. The door creaked open, slammed shut, and he barely turned in time to catch the flurry of motion that was Rosie.
She came in like a whirlwind, bundled in soft gray sweatpants and an oversized cream sweater that hung off one shoulder, her pink hair pulled up messily. Maya was tucked under one arm while a shopping bag and her purse jostled in the other.
“I came as fast as I could,” she said, breathless, letting Maya down. The cotton swab immediately scampered to Katsuki’s feet, tail wagging like mad as he gave her a distracted scratch behind the ears.
Rosie didn’t even pause to kiss him hello. “Where is it?” she asked, eyes already scanning the apartment.
“Couch,” he said, jerking his chin toward the living room. He watched as she beelined toward the blanket-covered form, her expression melting into something achingly tender the moment she laid eyes on the kitten.
“Oh,” she cooed softly, crouching next to the couch, fingers brushing gently along the kitten’s tiny head. It stirred faintly, blinking up at her before settling again beneath her touch.
“How the hell do you know how to take care of a kitten?” Katsuki asked, arms crossed, eyes still on her.
“We had a neighbor when I was little,” she said as she scooped up the kitten with expert care. “Lived right across the street. She bred kittens—purebreds, rescues, you name it. She used to babysit me when Mama had late shifts and she taught me all kinds of stuff about how to care for them.”
He blinked. That… actually explained a lot .
She turned to him, cradling the kitten against her chest like it was the most precious thing in the world. “C’mon. I need your sink.”
Katsuki followed her into his bathroom, watching her move with purpose as she rolled up her sleeves and plugged the sink. She ran warm water—just slightly hotter than lukewarm—and added a few drops of pet-safe soap from the bag she brought.
“You can’t use regular soap,” she told him as she gently lowered the kitten into the water, holding it steady with one hand while scooping water with the other. “Too harsh for their skin.”
“Got it,” he muttered, watching the scene unfold with growing fascination.
“The trick is to work fast but gentle. Don’t let water get in the ears or eyes.” She expertly rubbed a soft cloth over the kitten’s back, careful to avoid its tiny face. “You wanna use your hands more than anything. Fingers are gentler than sponges or towels.”
He watched silently, the image of her bent over his sink, soft hands bathing that fragile creature, her expression so full of quiet care—
Yeah, he was fucked.
Once the kitten was thoroughly rinsed, Rosie unplugged the sink and wrapped it in a warm, fluffy towel she had tucked in her bag. She cooed to it softly, dabbing at the damp fur while whispering reassurances.
“It’s okay, baby. You’re okay.”
Katsuki’s chest tightened.
From there, she headed to his kitchen. She set the kitten on a towel in a warm basket and unpacked the rest of her supplies. Formula, a little kitten-sized bottle, a thermometer, and a soft pink washcloth.
“Okay,” she said, not looking at him as she filled the bottle with practiced ease. “This baby’s barely five weeks old. Maybe not even that. Probably got separated from its litter. It should still be nursing, so it’ll need formula for another few weeks.”
He frowned. “How often?”
“Every couple of hours,” she said, finally glancing up. “Including during the night. At least until it starts eating soft food. You’ll have to burp it, too.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” She smiled sweetly, shaking the bottle gently in her hands. “You adopted a baby, pomchi.”
He rubbed a hand down his face, groaning low.
She chuckled, settling onto a stool at the counter and gently coaxing the kitten to suckle from the bottle. It latched almost immediately, purring as it fed.
And despite himself, Katsuki found himself sitting across from her, watching the whole thing with a soft smile tugging at his lips. Rosie was glowing. Bright-eyed, gentle, radiant. And the tiny creature in her arms trusted her implicitly. “You’re scarily good at this,” he muttered.
She shrugged. “I like taking care of things.”
She didn’t have to say it. He knew what she meant. I like taking care of you.
He let his eyes linger on her a moment longer before standing, kissing the top of her head as he passed. “You’re sleeping over,” he said gruffly, grabbing water from the fridge.
“I thought I already was?”
“You are now,” he said, glaring at the kitten. “That thing’s going to be a handful.”
Rosie only giggled. “You big softie.”
Katsuki grumbled something under his breath, pretending not to smile as he leaned against the counter, arms crossed. Maya let out a soft whine from the floor, her little tail thumping eagerly against the tile as she sat upright, her big brown eyes locked onto Rosie—and more specifically, the tiny kitten nestled against her chest.
“She’s jealous,” Rosie murmured, a grin curling on her lips as she looked down at Maya. “Aww, you want to say hi?”
Maya barked once, just a little chirp of a sound, her body bouncing with excitement. Katsuki picked up the cotton swab and picked up the pup. “Alright, fuzzball. Be gentle.”
He slowly guided her closer to Rosie and the kitten. The second she was in reach, Maya leaned forward eagerly and sniffed, her wet nose twitching as she took in the new scent. The kitten blinked sleepily, its ears twitching, but it didn’t shy away—if anything, it tilted toward the warmth of Rosie’s chest.
Then, without warning, Maya’s tongue darted out and gave the kitten’s head a sloppy lick.
Rosie let out a delighted giggle. “Maya! That tickles!”
The kitten let out a confused squeak, but didn’t seem to mind much. It squirmed a little in her hands, but ultimately settled right back into her warmth, as if the dog’s sudden affection was just a blip in its already long and exhausting day.
“She likes her,” Rosie said, scratching behind Maya’s ears. “Good girl. Gentle big sister, huh?”
Maya wagged harder, clearly proud of herself.
Once the kitten finished suckling on the bottle and dozed off a little more, Rosie brought it up gently to her shoulder. “Okay, now comes the important part.”
Katsuki raised an eyebrow, watching as she used the soft cloth to pat and rub the kitten’s back carefully.
“She needs to be burped,” she said over her shoulder. “Just like a baby. Their stomachs are tiny, and they swallow air when they feed. If you don’t burp them, they’ll get sick.”
He leaned in a little, curious despite himself. She made it look so natural, so easy—the way she balanced the kitten, rubbed gentle circles on its back, even the way she cooed to it as she worked.
“Shouldn’t take long,” she murmured. “Just little soft pats… there we go!”
A tiny little hic! sound escaped the kitten, followed by a faint shift in its body.
“She’s good,” Rosie said, smiling in that warm, glowy way that always made his chest ache. “Now we can let her nap.”
Rosie stood and carried the kitten to the soft little bed she’d set up in a box near the couch, full of blankets and a hot water bottle wrapped in a towel for warmth. Once she tucked the kitten in, she turned back to Katsuki and gestured for him to come closer.
He obeyed without a word.
“Okay,” she said, ticking off points on her fingers. “Every two to three hours, she needs to be fed. Even during the night. You can warm the formula by putting the bottle in warm water— not the microwave.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, listening despite the grumble in his tone.
“She’ll need help going to the bathroom too. Normally the momma cat does it, but since we’re all she’s got…” she trailed off, raising an eyebrow at him.
He blinked. “You want me to—?”
“Use a warm, damp cloth and gently rub her lower belly and rear,” Rosie said, totally unfazed. “It stimulates her, and she’ll go.”
Katsuki stared at her.
“I’m not kidding,” she added with a grin.
“I didn’t think you were.”
She stepped up closer to him, nudging him playfully. “It’s not hard. But she’s tiny and delicate, so you have to be patient.”
“You’re really trusting me with this?” he asked, gazing at her with an expression that was half annoyance, half awe.
“I wouldn’t be showing you if I didn’t trust you,” she said, softer now. “You’re good with things that need protecting.”
He glanced past her, toward the bundle of fur snuggled up in the box by the couch. Then back to Rosie, all fire and tenderness wrapped in a cozy sweater.
“…Tch,” he muttered, lips twitching. “Guess I better get used to having three girls running my life.”
Rosie beamed. “You love it.”
Yeah, he really did.
“Have you chosen a name for her?” Rosie called out, her voice light and teasing as she sat cross-legged on the couch, zipping up the front of her backpack. Her notes were scattered all around her, half-packed, half-abandoned in favor of eavesdropping on the moment unfolding just a few feet away.
Katsuki sat at the dining table, gently patting the kitten’s tiny back with two fingers as if she were made of glass. The little ball of gray fluff was barely bigger than his hand, but her purrs rumbled like a motor in his palm.
He squinted down at her, his brows furrowed. “Uh... I’m supposed to do that?”
Rosie rolled her eyes, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she stood. “Obviously. You found her, you saved her, she’s your responsibility now.”
The kitten gave a soft burp at that exact moment, and Katsuki blinked.
“Lady,” he muttered. “I’ll name her Lady.”
Rosie paused, her head tilting. Then a smile bloomed across her face, all soft affection and amusement. “That is adorable. You’re adorable.”
“Shut up,” he grumbled, but he was gently cradling the kitten against his chest like she was the most delicate treasure on the planet.
“Okay, Lady,” Rosie cooed, stepping over to press a kiss to the top of the kitten’s head—and another one to Katsuki’s cheek just because she could. “Now let’s hurry before my Dad gives us another lecture about being late.”
Katsuki sighed, clearly reluctant, and gave Lady one last pat before setting her down carefully. She licked his thumb, gave a little stretch, then padded her way back to the cozy blanket nest he’d made her and curled into a sleepy ball of fluff.
Katsuki watched her settle in, just for a second longer than he probably should’ve, then grabbed his bag and followed Rosie out the door.
Christmas shopping.
Katsuki hated it.
He remembered the chaos from when he was a kid—how his mom would drag him through every store like a soldier on a mission, bags cutting into his arms, people bumping into him left and right, and that same damn Christmas music looping over and over. It was crowded, loud, and full of fake cheer. It always gave him a headache.
But this year? Yeah… this year was different.
Because this year, he got to help her.
She was bundled up in one of those ridiculous Christmas sweaters she insisted on wearing, the bright red fabric covered in sparkly snowflakes and a cartoon reindeer. A short little skirt peeked out beneath her coat, paired with knee-high boots and thick tights that had little snowflake patterns on them. Her pink hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, strands dancing with the chilly wind, and her scarf was pulled all the way up to her nose. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were flushed from the cold, making her look even more like the walking, talking embodiment of Christmas spirit.
She looked adorable .
He already had several shopping bags in hand, handles digging into his palms as he trudged behind her through the outdoor mall. Lights twinkled above their heads, strung along the rooftops and wrapped around lamp posts. Christmas music played from overhead speakers, the air thick with the scent of cinnamon, pine, and roasted chestnuts. Snow flurries had started to drift from the sky, catching in her hair, on her lashes. She looked back at him now and then with that soft smile of hers, like she didn’t even realize what she was doing to his heart.
She was humming a tune he didn’t know, bouncing slightly with every step like she was just a little ball of festive energy. Her gloved hands clutched a crinkled, dog-eared Christmas shopping list she had made last night while curled up against him on the couch. Her brow was furrowed in deep concentration now as she tried to remember who they still needed gifts for, occasionally hiding her face in her scarf and letting out a frustrated groan when she forgot.
He couldn’t help it—he watched her.
And he took mental notes .
When she paused at the window of a jewelry shop to admire a delicate silver necklace, he didn’t say a word. But he glanced at the price. Noted the store name. Filed it away for later.
When she lingered a little longer in front of a bookstore, running her fingers over the spines of a new series she hadn’t picked up yet, he caught the title. Checked the back cover when she wasn’t looking. Nodded to himself.
She cooed over the softest throw blanket in a home decor store, tugged it from the shelf and hugged it to her chest for a second before placing it back with a sigh. He made sure to remember the brand and color.
She pointed out things she thought her friends might like, things for Momo, for Mina, for Uraraka and Iida and Denki—and every time she spoke, he listened. Not just to her words, but to the way her eyes sparkled when she found something beautiful. To the softness in her voice when she saw something that reminded her of home. To the things she didn’t say aloud, but that he could read all over her face.
It was exhausting. It was chaotic. And it was worth every second .
Because every time she smiled, every time she turned back and looped her arm through his or pressed a kiss to his cheek and said, “You’re the best, Katsu,” it made all the noise and crowds and cold totally fade into the background.
He found himself adjusting the bags on his arms just to carry more, so she wouldn’t have to. Found himself scanning for benches when she looked like she needed a break. And when she stopped walking for a moment to admire the massive Christmas tree in the center of the square—her eyes shining in awe, her gloved hand clutching his tightly—he swore he could feel something settle inside his chest. Something quiet, warm, and whole.
Yeah.
He used to hate Christmas shopping. But with her? He could do it every damn day.
“I’m done for today,” she said as she used her pink sparkly pen to cross off another name off the list before turning to him. “How about we head back to your place and eat an early dinner?”
“Anything you want.”
Katsuki’s apartment hadn’t stood a chance against Rosie’s festive invasion the moment December hit. What was once his clean-cut, modern space filled with black, white, orange, and the occasional red had been transformed—but tastefully, he admitted, and only because it was her.
His girlfriend had shown restraint. There was a tree in the corner, medium-sized and carefully decorated in soft whites, silvers, and pastel pinks, with little ornaments that looked like sugar cookies and candy canes. A soft, plush white tree skirt pooled beneath it. The couch had been overtaken by Christmas-themed pillows, and a fuzzy red-and-white candy cane blanket draped over the back. Even his coffee table had fallen victim to a scented candle shaped like a gingerbread house and a tiny reindeer figurine.
He didn’t mind it, not one bit. Especially since she looked so damn happy doing it.
“I’m going to go change,” she hummed as she slipped off down the hallway toward his bedroom.
Katsuki grunted in acknowledgment, already unloading the bags onto the kitchen table, mentally ticking off what gifts they’d managed to knock out today and what he still needed to sneak back for. Once everything was settled, he headed toward the bedroom as well, grabbing a pair of sweats and a fresh t-shirt. He tugged them on just in time to hear the soft click of the bathroom door opening.
Rosie stepped out, her face freshly washed and glowing, her hair slightly damp around the edges. She had stripped off her tights and skirt in favor of cozy little pink Christmas shorts decorated with tiny candy canes. Her oversized Christmas sweater still hung off one shoulder, her bare legs on full display as she padded barefoot across the hardwood floor.
Cute didn’t even begin to cover it. Sweet, soft, his.
“C’mere,” he muttered, voice a little rougher than he meant it to be, already reaching for her as she passed. She let out a quiet giggle and ducked into his arms, pressing a kiss to his jaw as he wrapped an arm around her waist.
Soon enough, they were curled up together on the couch in a tangle of limbs, the soft fuzzy blanket draped over them like a cocoon. Rosie lay half on top of him, her cheek pressed against his chest, her hand tracing slow, lazy patterns across his stomach under his shirt. Maya was curled up between Katsuki’s legs, snoring softly, and Lady— still tiny and new —was a warm, purring puff of gray fur tucked against his chest, rising and falling with his steady breathing.
The apartment was quiet except for the low hum of a Christmas movie playing on the TV and the occasional jingle of Maya’s collar as she shifted in her sleep. Outside the window, snow flurries danced against the glass, lit by the warm golden glow of the streetlamps.
Rosie let out a sleepy sigh, nuzzling closer. “This is nice,” she whispered.
Katsuki glanced down at her, watching how the soft light from the TV danced across her cheeks and the tiny twinkle lights from the tree reflected in her sleepy eyes.
“Yeah,” he murmured, his hand finding her waist beneath the blanket, thumb stroking slow circles. “It is.”
She snuggled deeper into him, one leg sliding between his as she adjusted, pulling the blanket tighter. “Don’t move,” she mumbled, “you’re warm. And I’m comfy. And Lady’s comfy.”
He smirked, one hand resting over the kitten curled on his chest, the other wrapped around her back.
“I’m not going anywhere, dumbass. You’ve got me trapped.”
“Good,” she said, barely audible.
Katsuki looked around—at the lights, the tree, the glow, the gifts… but mostly at her. How soft she looked. How peaceful. How at home it all felt. And damn if he didn’t feel the same.
Notes:
Did I update twice? Yes I did. Did my boyfriend type this one? Yes he did. Now I’m going to go take my nap because I’m super tired.
This fic is inspired by when my mom and I used to breed ragdolls, I took the night time feedings and she took the day time feedings while I was in middle/high school. We don’t breed kittens anymore but god I got attached to all of them😩
Anyway, Katsuki saving a kitten is such a hug head-canon for me. Please let me know what your thoughts are on and if you’re liking the mix of short and long chapters
I also finally made a playlist for Rosie!💖 go check it out and let me know what you think!
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/57iMdy1EpWjp2JLbDCJvQy?si=3Gfkx5PrQU2AgFIOtA7QMw&pi=aPT5uK3URxCXv
Chapter 85: Motorcycles. She had a thing for motorcycle guys?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie sat curled up on the couch in one of Katsuki’s oversized hoodies, her reading glasses perched on her nose, and her textbooks sprawled in front of her. Her highlighters were already organized in a neat row on the coffee table, and she had a pencil tucked behind one ear. Her foot lazily bounced to the lo-fi music playing softly in the background. She had been studying all day, all around his apartment were half drank tea cups, the porcelain thin kind with gold trimmings and floral patterns, she had started to collect them since they went to that farmers market a couple weeks ago. Now they littered his apartment.
Katsuki was stretched out on the rug a few feet away, lying on his back with Lady curled up right in the center of his chest, her tiny body rising and falling with his slow breathing. His own textbook sat open and forgotten beside him, the page barely read.
He was using his finger to gently nudge Lady’s little paw, and she batted at it with a sleepy mewl. Her tiny claws didn’t even scratch him, but he still chuckled quietly like she’d actually won the match.
Rosie peeked over her glasses, smirking. “I never expected you to be a cat person.”
Katsuki flinched, immediately glancing at her with a scowl like he’d been caught doing something embarrassing. “I’m not.”
“Oh no?” she teased, setting her book down. “Because you’re literally letting her sleep on your chest like a kitten-shaped paperweight, and I haven’t seen you move in fifteen minutes.”
“She’s warm,” he mumbled, not looking at her. “It’s cold in here.”
“Mhm,” Rosie hummed, clearly not buying it. “Last I checked, my explosive quirk using boyfriend didn’t get cold.”
He didn’t respond. Just let his head rest back against the floor, eyes fixed on the ceiling—but his hand moved slowly to Lady’s back, rubbing gentle circles into her fur as she purred louder. His other hand found the edge of his sweatshirt and tugged it down a little over her like a blanket.
Rosie smiled, utterly endeared. “You’re such a softie, sweetheart.”
Katsuki just grunted. “You’re the soft one." He rolled his eyes, "you’re rubbing off on me.”
She reached over the edge of the couch and brushed his hair back from his forehead. “Good.”
And maybe Katsuki didn’t say it out loud—but the soft flush on his ears and the fact that he let Lady sleep undisturbed on his chest for nearly two hours said enough. He didn't even move when she started softly snoring, her tiny body rising and falling with each breath he took.
From the couch, his eyes were fixed on Rosie.
She had moved his coffee table out of the way and now sat cross-legged on the floor, a fuzzy blanket under her, surrounded by rolls of wrapping paper, ribbon spools, scattered bows, and a mug of hot cocoa that had long since gone cold. A classic Christmas movie played softly in the background, the twinkling lights from the tree casting a warm golden glow on her face as she concentrated.
Her tongue peeked out in focus as she carefully snipped a piece of sparkly pink paper, folding it around a small box before taping it neatly. A list sat next to her, names written in neat cursive—friends, family, teachers, Eri—each one checked off with a tiny heart. She hummed a little tune from the movie, unaware of just how sweet and beautiful she looked in that oversized Christmas sweater and cozy shorts, her hair pinned back loosely.
“So,” Katsuki called, breaking the quiet. “When’s the squirt coming home?”
“Eri gets in on the twentieth,” Rosie said with a little smile as she folded a fresh piece of wrapping paper over a gift. “She’s staying until the sixth of January. For Christmas Eve, we’re staying at my Dad’s so she can open gifts with us on Christmas morning.”
He frowned from the couch, his arms still gently cradling the kitten. “So I won’t wake up with you?”
Rosie giggled, glancing over her shoulder at him. “You’ll have me after that.”
He grumbled, “Then I have to share you with everyone at the Christmas party.”
She shot him a teasing look, eyes sparkling with amusement. “My poor boyfriend.”
Katsuki smirked, “Yeah, yeah. Tragic.” Then he leaned forward, carefully moving Lady to the spot beside him on a throw pillow. “Just come here and kiss me already.”
Rosie stood and walked over, settling into his lap as his arms came up around her waist. She kissed him slow, soft and warm, before brushing her nose against his and whispering, “You’ll get all the kisses you want on Christmas. And after. And always.”
Snow dusted the windows of the cozy Ishlamare Café, a warm, inviting space filled with the scent of coffee, cinnamon, and toasted pastries. The corner booth was taken over by their usual study group—books, notebooks, highlighters, and drinks scattered across the table.
Katsuki sat with his arm slung along the back of the booth, textbook open in front of him but barely touched. Next to him, Rosie had her notes spread out, pen tapping as she solved practice problems and underlined key formulas.
Kirishima sat across from them, red hair slightly messy, leaning on his elbow with a sleepy grin. “I feel like my brain’s leaking outta my ears,” he groaned.
Momo, ever the picture of calm, sat beside him with a perfectly organized binder. “We’ll get through it. Just two more weeks and we’ll be free.”
Shoto quietly sipped his tea while Kaminari scribbled answers into a study guide, whispering under his breath as he tried to memorize vocabulary.
Katsuki glanced at Rosie, catching the way her nose scrunched in confusion at a page of notes. He nudged her thigh gently under the table. “Hey.”
“Hm?” she blinked up at him.
“You’re doing great,” he said quietly, voice a little rough but honest.
She gave him the softest smile in return, one that warmed his chest like the cocoa on the table.
Mina passed by with two drinks, plopping a hot chocolate in front of Rosie and a coffee for herself. “Okay, this is round two for me. Let’s kill these exams!”
Everyone lifted their drinks, clinking them together with muffled cheers , but Katsuki only clinked his against Rosie’s before diving back into their books. And while they studied, while snow fell softly outside and fairy lights twinkled above them, Katsuki leaned closer to Rosie, brushed her hair behind her ear, and whispered, “Remind me again how I got so damn lucky?”
She only blushed at his compliment, ducking her head with a soft smile as she nudged him back with her elbow. “You’re distracting me,” she whispered, trying to refocus on her notes—but the corners of her lips gave her away, curling with a shy grin.
Katsuki chuckled lowly beside her, satisfied with the reaction. He didn’t even have to try anymore. Just being near her was enough to get that look—like she was seconds away from melting.
A few steps away, Shinso approached their table with his usual unbothered expression, balancing a tray of empty mugs and plates.
“Can I get you guys anything else?” he asked, voice smooth and steady.
Rosie glanced up, holding her now-empty mug. “Can I have another hot chocolate? Extra whipped cream, please.”
Shinso gave her a nod as he took the mug. “Of course. Anyone else?”
The rest of the group chimed in—Shoto asked for a green tea refill, Kaminari ordered something sugary and seasonal with way too many add-ons, and Kirishima asked for another espresso shot “to power through the last chapter.” Momo politely declined, still working on hers.
The group sat nestled together in one of Ishlamare’s cozy study alcoves, piles of textbooks, notebooks, and highlighters sprawled across the large table. It was a familiar chaos—quiet chatter, shared snacks, the occasional groan of frustration.
Once the last set of flashcards had been reviewed and everyone had reached the “we’re either ready or we’re not” stage of studying, they all slumped back with relieved sighs.
“Okay,” Mina said, stretching her arms above her head. “I am so done. If I have to hear the phrase ‘chemical bonding’ one more time, I’m going to cry.”
Kaminari perked up from where he was stuffing his notes into his backpack. “What if we hit up Silven’s for trivia night? Clear our brains with some alcohol and chaos?”
“I’m in,” Kirishima said, already standing. “I need to feel like a normal human being again.”
Rosie looked up at Katsuki with a playful smile. “Wanna come with us, Mr. Grumpy?”
He rolled his eyes, grabbing his coat. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go.”
They all began packing up, and the girls were the first to finish. Backpacks slung over their shoulders and coats buttoned, Rosie, Mina, and Momo stepped out into the cool night air while the guys stayed behind to pay the tabs.
Outside, the sidewalk was lit with twinkling string lights from the cafe’s awning, the air crisp and scented faintly with roasted beans and peppermint. The girls leaned against the brick wall, chatting and laughing softly.
A low rumble of engines drew their attention.
A group of guys on motorcycles pulled up and parked a few feet down the sidewalk. They removed their helmets—young, cocky, and clearly up to no good. One of them, with a smug grin and slicked-back hair, approached the girls first.
“Evening, ladies,” he said, flashing a too-bright smile. “Didn’t think angels like you came out in packs.”
Mina laughed awkwardly. “That’s... original .”
“Where you headed?” another asked, eyeing Rosie. “Wanna ride with us instead?”
Rosie tilted her head, polite but firm. “No thanks. We already have plans.”
“Oh come on,” the first one persisted. “You sure you wouldn’t rather ride than whatever it is that you’re doing?”
That was about the time the coffee shop door opened.
Katsuki stepped out of the café, the cold night air hitting his face as the door swung shut behind him. He immediately saw her—his girl—standing just a few feet away, bundled in her coat with her scarf pulled up over her mouth. That was the only soft thing about the scene.
Because beside her?
A bunch of jackasses on motorcycles were laughing, posturing, one of them far too close for Katsuki’s comfort. He could hear the way the guy was talking to her—smooth, cocky, like he thought he had a chance.
He didn’t.
Katsuki’s hands were stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, but his shoulders squared as he stalked down the sidewalk. The sidewalk lit up with every step he took. Sparks didn’t crackle out loud, but they didn’t need to. He was already wound too tight, his glare sharp enough to slice through steel. His girl, his Rosie, was standing there like nothing was wrong, like she wasn’t the prettiest damn thing in the city that night, all rosy-cheeked and smiling with that soft scarf tucked around her chin.
She turned just in time to see him.
“There you are,” she said brightly, already moving toward him without hesitation.
Yeah. That’s right. Only ever me.
He caught her as she reached him, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her into his side like it was second nature. Because it was. She belonged there. His smirk curved slowly across his face as he finally—finally —looked at the guy who had been shooting his shot.
The biker raised an eyebrow, still standing too tall, still looking like he thought he had a shot. “That your guy?”
Katsuki didn’t respond right away.
Instead, he held Rosie closer, and leaned in just enough to speak so low it was meant only for the bastard's ears.
“You talk to her again,” Katsuki murmured, voice dangerously calm, “and I’ll make sure the only thing you’ll be riding is the hospital bed they wheel your sorry ass into.”
The biker’s smirk faltered just enough to show he’d heard—and understood.
But Katsuki didn’t wait for a response. Didn’t give him the dignity. Instead, he turned away like the guy was already forgotten, guiding Rosie down the sidewalk with a hand on the small of her back.
As they walked, Rosie glanced up at him, clearly amused, clearly pleased. “You’re so dramatic,” she whispered, trying not to giggle but failing. “You know that?”
He snorted. “Tch. You weren’t complainin’.”
“I wasn’t,” she agreed, looping her arm around his. “You looked cute all possessive like that.”
His ears went a little red, but he kept walking like it didn’t affect him. “Damn right I’m possessive. You see the way that guy was lookin’ at you?”
Rosie laughed under her breath, leaning into him. “You know I only look at you.”
He couldn’t help it—he smirked again. It wasn’t prideful this time, not like before. It was softer, warmer. Smug in the way that said she’s mine and she knows it.
They passed under a string of twinkling lights, their friends catching up behind them, and he thought that was the end of the conversation—until Rosie casually added: “Though I gotta admit… I’ve always had a thing for motorcycle guys.”
Katsuki slowed his step just enough to glance at her sideways. “What?”
She just giggled again and looked up at him innocently. “Something about the leather jackets and the engine rumble. I don’t know. It’s hot.”
He stared at her for a beat, his mind already racing.
Motorcycles. She had a thing for motorcycle guys?
His jaw tightened, not with irritation— but with determination. “…You’re serious?”
“Totally,” she said with a grin, pulling away from him to put distance between them. “Why?”
Katsuki didn’t answer.
He just filed it away, deep in the vault of things to surprise Rosie with later.
Maybe he hated the idea before— but now? Now he was gonna learn. He was gonna ride. He was gonna show up one day with a bike and a helmet and say, ‘Get on, pretty girl.’ And she was going to melt.
“Oi,” Kaminari called from behind them, jogging to catch up. “You guys planning on just ditching us?”
Katsuki flipped him off over his shoulder, but didn’t miss the way Rosie giggled beside him.
They walked toward Silven’s—Mina and Momo already at the front doors chatting with the hostess, Kirishima laughing at something Kaminari said, and Shoto sipping on a beer he already ordered.
And Katsuki? He just kept his girl close, already picturing the future.
Him. A bike. Leather jacket. Rosie’s thighs tight around him. Yeah. He’d make that happen. For her? Anything.
The warm, low hum of conversation buzzed through Silven’s dimly lit bar, the occasional cheer or groan rising up from the clustered tables and booths. The cozy lighting cast everything in soft amber, while strands of twinkle lights hung above the wooden beams. Rosie and Katsuki sat close at one of the high-top tables near the corner stage, surrounded by their friends—Momo and Shoto at the table beside them, Kirishima and Mina at another, and Kaminari… well, he had somehow gotten partnered with a girl who was absolutely annihilating him at every question.
“Alright, next question!” the trivia host called from the stage, adjusting the mic with a grin. “In Greek mythology, who is the goddess of wisdom?”
Rosie barely had to glance at Katsuki. “Athena,” they said in sync.
He smirked, jotting it down. “We’re crushing it.”
Across from them, Momo calmly wrote the answer without a word, Shoto sipping his drink like this was just another Tuesday.
“Ugh,” Mina whined. “Can you guys stop being so hot and smart together? You’re ruining it for the rest of us.”
Kirishima laughed as he took a swig of his beer. “Speak for yourself—I’ve got Mina. We might not be trivia geniuses, but we’ve got style!”
Rosie giggled, nudging Katsuki with her knee under the table. “You having fun?”
“Would be having more fun if we win,” he grumbled, scribbling down another answer.
The final round ended with a dramatic pause, and the host stepped forward. “Alright, folks, tally’s in! In second place… Katsuki and Rosie with 92 points!”
Katsuki's brows twitched. “Second place?”
“And our winners tonight, with a grand total of 96 points—Momo and Shoto!”
The bar erupted into cheers and clapping. Shoto looked mildly amused, offering a single satisfied nod. Momo smiled brightly, lifting her glass in a celebratory toast.
Katsuki stood. “Oi. What bullshit question got us those four points behind?”
Shoto turned to him, perfectly calm. “The correct one.”
“You think you’re funny, Half-and-Half?”
Rosie and Mina giggled from their seats, already sipping on their cocktails. Kaminari, now two drinks deep, leaned over and stage-whispered, “Bakubro’s gonna explode. Place your bets.”
Kirishima snorted, holding up his drink. “I got ten on Shoto staying cool through the whole thing.”
“You think I don’t know the difference between Athena and Artemis?” Katsuki barked, pointing at the final question. “It was a trick!”
Shoto took another calm sip. “You answered too fast.”
“I am fast.”
Rosie tugged him back by the sleeve, still laughing. “It’s trivia night, not some fight.”
“She’s right,” Momo added gently, though her eyes twinkled. “Let’s just all enjoy the drinks and not start a trivia rivalry.”
“Too late,” Katsuki muttered, sitting back down and crossing his arms. “Rematch next week.”
Rosie leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. “You’re so dramatic.”
“And you love it.”
“I do.” She smiled up at him. “Especially when you pout after losing.”
Katsuki narrowed his eyes. “I’m not pouting.”
“Sure you’re not.” Rosie grinned, then leaned closer to whisper, “You’re still the hottest loser I know.”
He snorted, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Damn right I am.”
As the night wore on, trivia sheets were cleared, more drinks ordered, and plans for next week's rematch were already underway—complete with team names, rules, and a very smug Shoto already planning to beat Katsuki again. And of course, Rosie just sat there with her drink, discreetly leaning into her boyfriend’s side, loving every chaotic second of it.
Notes:
hope you guys love this chapter<3 let me know your thoughts as the second arc is finishing up soon and we'll be entering the third arc which is where things start getting pretty gruesome for everyone<3
go check out that playlist and let me know your thoughts<33
Chapter 86: But he already smells like smoke, caramel, and sinful decisions.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie loved Christmas. The twinkly lights, the smell of cinnamon and pine everywhere, the stupid carols playing way too early in every store—she adored all of it. It was the happiest time of the year in her book, hands down. But this year felt different. Bittersweet. Her first Christmas without her mom… and her first Christmas with her boyfriend. Which meant, of course, that she was dead set on making it perfect. But there was one tiny, minuscule problem.
“What the hell do you buy for a guy who doesn’t like stuff?” Rosie groaned, dramatically flopping her head back against the bench in the middle of the mall.
“Right?” Uraraka said with a sigh, cradling a paper cup of hot cocoa as they walked. “I asked Deku what he wanted, and he just blinked at me and said, ‘Uraraka, you don’t have to get me anything—’ Like, excuse me, let me love you, you rambling nerd.”
“I gave Kaminari a wrapped mirror with ‘YOU’ written on it,” Jirou muttered, looking both deadpan and slightly impressed with herself. “That’s his whole gift. You’re welcome, Denki.”
Mina burst out laughing. “Okay, that’s legendary.”
Toru spun in a circle with a bag in each hand. “I say we just go full cheesy girlfriend mode. Matching shirts, personalized mugs, those cringey little love coupons.”
Eri, bundled in her red coat with little reindeer antlers on her hood, marched proudly beside them with her arms outstretched. “I’m gonna get Dad a mug that says ‘World’s Sleepiest Dad’!”
Rosie smiled, heart softening as she gently ruffled Eri’s hair. “He’ll love it.”
Momo, ever the planner, was flipping through her neatly organized gift list, highlighter in hand. “Alright! We have five stores left. I still need to get gifts for Todoroki, Iida, Sero, and—oh! I forgot the ribbon.”
“You forgot ribbon?” Mina gasped, mock-betrayed. “Momo Yaoyorozu forgot ribbon?! ”
“It happens to the best of us,” Tsuyu croaked, sipping her tea from a thermos.
They all erupted into laughter as they walked through the center of the mall, each one weighed down with bags, snacks, and chaos.
Rosie, of course, still hadn’t solved her problem.
She stared wistfully at a display of cologne bottles. “I could buy him something that smells good… but he already smells like smoke, caramel, and sinful decisions.”
Mina linked arms with her. “We’ll find the perfect thing. Even if we have to go into every store in this mall.”
“And sample every cinnamon pretzel,” Jirou added with a smirk.
They stopped at a pop-up ornament stand, where Eri held up a tiny glittering poodle in a Santa hat. “Can we get this one for Maya?”
Rosie paused… and then smiled. Maybe the best gift wasn’t something big or flashy. Maybe it was little things. Sentimental ones. A collection of their memories. Something handmade. Something meaningful.
She didn’t have it all figured out yet, but she had seven of the best girls helping her.
And judging by the way they all started dragging her into the next boutique store (with Momo already calculating budget breakdowns and Mina holding up glittery wrapping paper), Rosie knew one thing for sure —This would be a very memorable Christmas.
They had just stepped out of a store with yet another round of bags (Jirou was now dual-wielding candy canes, and Mina had managed to charm an employee into giving them free wrapping samples) when Eri, who had been quiet for most of the shopping spree, tugged gently on the sleeve of Rosie’s coat.
Rosie turned, instantly softening. “What’s up, sweetheart?”
The little girl looked down at her boots, scuffing the floor as she shyly murmured, “I… I wanna get Kota a Christmas present…”
Immediately, every girl within earshot froze.
Uraraka’s hot chocolate slipped out of her hand and would’ve hit the ground if Momo hadn’t caught it with her fast reflexes. Mina gasped so loud it echoed down the corridor. Jirou’s jaw dropped. Tsuyu blinked slowly. Toru squealed.
“Oh my GOSH,” Mina practically screeched, dropping her bags as she knelt down in front of Eri, hands on her little shoulders. “Are we witnessing a tiny little crush?!”
Eri’s whole face turned a deep cherry red. She nodded once, shyly, then immediately hid her face behind her mittens.
“EEEHHHHH!” Toru squealed, bouncing on her heels. “That’s so cute!”
“I—I just thought maybe a book?” Eri stammered through her mittens. “Or something about music? He really likes music too”
Jirou snorted. “You mean like someone else we know?” She tilted her head toward Rosie, who had also turned pink.
“I— Kota is nothing like Katsuki, ” Rosie tried to argue, which only made it worse.
Mina whipped her head around, eyes sparkling. “Uh, yes he is. Reserved? Check. Grumpy? Double check. Has no idea what to do when someone likes him? Triple check.”
Rosie looked down at Eri, whose red face now matched her reindeer antlers, and slowly realized that oh no. Mina was right.
Kota was like a tiny, younger version of Katsuki—if you dialed the yelling down and added a music obsession. Wait…fuck, they were right.
Eri peeked through her fingers at Rosie. “I—he’s really nice… even when he pretends not to be. He gave me half his sandwich one day and told me it was because he ‘didn’t want to waste food.’” She paused. “But he looked away the whole time.”
The girls lost it.
“Oh my god, they’re already in their slow-burn era,” Jirou groaned dramatically.
Tsuyu blinked. “What about a drawing? Something you make for him yourself?”
“That’s a good idea,” Momo nodded thoughtfully. “Or a stuffed animal of his favorite creature?”
“We could do a care package,” Uraraka suggested. “Snacks, notes, little things he likes!”
Rosie giggled, crouching beside Eri with a soft smile. “We’ll help you, sweetheart. Whatever you decide, we’ll make sure it’s perfect.”
Eri peeked up, finally smiling through her bashfulness. “Okay… thank you.”
Mina clapped her hands. “Alright, Team Eri’s First Crush, move out! Operation Boyfriend is a go!”
“MINA!” Rosie and Eri shouted at the same time, both turning red.
But it was no use.
The girls were on a mission now—storming the next store with Eri at the center, flanked by her honorary big sisters like a tiny, adorable general.
Rosie hung back a little, watching them fondly, hand tucked into her coat pocket as she walked behind the group. Her cheeks were still warm, heart soft from watching Eri be so brave, so sweet—and also mildly horrified that Mina had just casually linked her grumpy boyfriend with a thirteen-year-old music enthusiast.
…Even though she totally saw the similarities.
And, just maybe, she found it a little cute.
Just maybe.
The food court was alive with chatter, the hum of conversation blending with the upbeat Christmas music playing faintly through the mall speakers. Rosie sat nestled among her friends, a tray of hot fries and a festive peppermint milkshake in front of her. Around them were a chaotic mess of shopping bags—tissue paper sticking out like fireworks, glittery gift wrap poking through handles, and one bag that had mysteriously started jingling thanks to Mina’s fascination with sleigh bell accessories.
Eri sat beside Rosie, happily munching on her chicken nuggets as she carefully peeked into her shopping bags every few minutes. With the help of the girls, she had picked out a navy blue hoodie for Kota and had it embroidered with a bunny (“So he knows it’s from me,” she whispered), an album from a band they both listened to, and a matching black bracelet.
“That’s so cute,” Jirou had said earlier, nudging her. “You’re going to make him blush.”
Eri had smiled behind her straw, cheeks as pink as her strawberry smoothie.
Rosie should’ve been happy, and she was—watching Eri light up made everything feel warm and bright. But that didn’t stop the gnawing feeling of stress in the pit of her stomach. Because despite all the shopping bags around her, despite all the hours she’d spent browsing store after store, she still hadn’t found anything for him .
Her boyfriend. Katsuki.
And the worst part? She couldn’t even ask for help.
Well… maybe not all of them.
Her gaze flicked toward Momo, who sat prim and composed as always, sipping from her tea and listening politely to Mina talk about the upcoming christmas party. Momo, who understood what it meant to keep something so important private.
“Momo,” Rosie said suddenly, brushing her fries aside and grabbing a napkin. “Will you come with me to the bathroom?”
Momo blinked. “Of course.”
Rosie slid out of the booth quickly, grabbing her purse and throwing a sheepish smile over her shoulder. “We’ll be right back!”
The girls just nodded, too busy planning their next store raid to question it. Once they were inside the quiet of the tiled restroom, surrounded by garlands the mall had even put up near the sinks, Momo turned toward Rosie, one brow raised. “Is something wrong?” she asked gently.
Rosie bit her lip, then sighed. “I need help picking a gift. For someone…specific.”
Momo folded her arms, tilting her head. “Then why not ask the others too? I’m sure they’d be happy to help as well.”
Rosie hesitated, heart fluttering, then glanced at the door to make sure it was still closed. She stepped in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Because it’s for Katsuki.”
Momo blinked. “Oh.”
“And,” Rosie added, cheeks glowing, “he’s… not just a friend. He’s my boyfriend.”
Momo stared at her for a moment, lips parting slightly in surprise before a soft smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Oh.”
Rosie fidgeted with the strap of her purse, suddenly nervous. “You’re one of the ones who knows. Only Akira, Kirishima, and Shoto know about it and Eri just recently found out about it but—”
“Rosie,” Momo interrupted gently, reaching to squeeze her hand. “It’s okay. I get it.” She smiled knowingly. “Shoto and I are still keeping things quiet, too.”
Rosie sagged in relief, giving a grateful laugh. “Thank God.”
Momo’s expression warmed even more. “So, a gift for Bakugou… that’s tricky. He’s not exactly sentimental, but…” she tapped her chin. “He does pay close attention to the people he cares about. I think something that shows you know him—that would mean more than anything flashy.”
Rosie nodded slowly. “Yeah. That’s what I was thinking, but I don’t know what. I want it to be perfect.”
Momo smiled, linking her arm with Rosie’s. “Let’s go figure it out. Secret girlfriend club style.”
Rosie laughed, her heart lighter already. “Secret girlfriend club. I like the sound of that.”
And with that, the two girls slipped out of the bathroom, giggling like co-conspirators ready to take on the Christmas chaos once again.
“I’m so nervous,” Rosie mumbled, stepping out of the passenger side of Katsuki’s car, the familiar campus chill nipping at her nose as she held her oversized hot chocolate like a lifeline. “But I’m glad this is the last exam for the semester.”
Katsuki shut his door with a quiet thud and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Tch. You’ll crush it, like always.” His voice was gruff, but the way he brushed her pink scarf into place and tugged her hat down gently over her ears gave him away. “You studied like a maniac.”
“I had the best tutor,” she teased, nudging him as they started walking toward the History building together. The quad was quiet this early in the morning, most students either still cramming in the library or dragging themselves across the frost-dusted sidewalks for their own finals. Rosie sipped her hot chocolate, sighing contentedly as she leaned a little into Katsuki.
As they reached the front doors of the building, Katsuki glanced around, then caught her hand, tugging her gently behind one of the large stone pillars that framed the entrance.
“Katsuki, darling?” she blinked at him, cheeks already pink from the cold.
He didn’t answer—just leaned in and gave her a lingering, firm kiss, the kind that made her toes curl even through her boots. When he pulled back, his smirk was warm and knowing.
“For luck,” he muttered.
Rosie grinned, still a little dazed, and bumped his shoulder before they slipped inside and walked toward the lecture hall. The air inside was warmer, but still carried the tension of finals. Students milled about, some frantically flipping through notes, others sitting silently with earbuds in. The heavy doors to Aizawa’s lecture hall groaned open, and Rosie and Katsuki entered with the others.
They exchanged one last glance before Rosie walked down to her usual seat in the row directly in front of Katsuki’s. He took his place behind her, and they both unpacked quietly. The air was thick with nerves.
Aizawa entered from the side door, looking exactly like he always did—grumpy, coffee in hand, and wrapped in his capture scarf. The room fell into silence immediately.
Without preamble, he moved to the podium, dropped a thick stack of stapled packets onto the desk, and looked out at them all, half-lidded eyes scanning the sea of students.
“Final exam,” he said dryly. “Don’t cheat. Don’t talk.”
He started handing out the exam packets as everyone shifted upright in their chairs, the sound of rustling papers and click of pens filling the air. Rosie turned to the first page, her brows knitting together in concentration as she began to write.
Two hours and a half later, the sound of chairs scraping back and the hum of quiet relief filled the lecture hall as students began to trickle out. Rosie was one of the last to finish, and as she handed in her packet, Aizawa gave her a kiss to her forehead, before she headed out of the lecture hall.
Outside the lecture hall, a group had already started gathering—Mina, Kirishima, Kaminari, Momo, and Shoto among them. The early winter sun was peeking through the clouds, and everyone looked a little lighter with the weight of finals finally behind them.
“We survived!” Mina shouted, throwing her arms in the air.
“Barely,” Kaminari groaned, slouching beside her. “I think Aizawa’s final aged me ten years.”
Kirishima laughed. “That just means you’ll skate better tonight. You’ll be wiser on the ice.”
Momo tilted her head with a fond smile. “We’re still meeting at the rink around seven, right?”
“Yup,” Rosie chirped, brushing her hand against Katsuki’s discreetly. “Hot chocolate, ice skating, and making sure Kaminari doesn’t break his tailbone.”
“I’m right here,” Kaminari muttered.
Katsuki grunted, tugging his beanie down over his ears. “Just don’t expect me to help if you eat ice. I’m not carrying your ass to the car.”
Rosie giggled, squeezing his hand. “I’ll carry him.”
“I love you, Rosie,” Kaminari sniffled dramatically as he flopped onto her, his arms cradling her against him.
“The fuck you think you’re doing?” Katsuki growled.
The group burst into laughter as they all started walking toward the parking lot, their boots crunching on a light dusting of snow. Katsuki chased after Kaminari who yelped loudlyThe promise of a carefree night, ice skating, winter snacks, and more hot chocolate, was exactly what they needed.
The rink twinkled under soft white lights, snow gently falling outside the frosted glass windows of the indoor skating arena. The buzz of excited voices and holiday music filled the air, laughter echoing from the ice as people skated in gentle loops and wobbly lines.
Rosie stepped out from the changing area near the lockers, cheeks pink from the cold and her breath forming little clouds as she looked around the rink. She wore a fluffy cream sweater tucked into a pleated forest green skirt with fleece-lined black tights, a red knit scarf looped around her neck and matching earmuffs nestled into her soft waves. Her white ice skates, however, sat untied and crooked on her feet as she awkwardly tried to balance on the bench.
Uraraka looked over and immediately beamed. “You look so cute, Rosie!”
Rosie laughed a little, struggling with the laces. “Thanks. I feel cute. Just... not very coordinated right now.” She tugged at one lace with a dramatic huff, cheeks puffed out.
“Let me help,” Uraraka said kindly, kneeling in front of her and expertly tying the skates tight. “You just focus on staying upright.”
Rosie smiled gratefully. “You’re a lifesaver.”
Once her skates were on, she stood carefully, wobbling just a little as she made her way to the edge of the rink. She gripped the railing tightly, brown eyes wide as she watched the others glide with ease—Kirishima and Mina already chasing each other around, Kaminari trying to race Bakugou and failing, Momo skating gracefully near the center.
Shoto appeared beside her, his own skates already laced up, hands in the pockets of his coat. He glanced at her grip on the railing, then at her face.
“Have you ever skated before?” he asked softly.
Rosie gave him a sheepish look and shook her head. “Nope. Never. I’m... uh, mildly terrified.”
His expression softened, lips twitching in a faint smile. “May I?” he asked, extending both hands toward her.
She blinked. “You’re offering to teach me?”
“You trust me, right?” he said, tilting his head.
Her hesitation melted. She nodded and placed her gloved hands in his, letting him gently guide her onto the ice. She immediately let out a squeak, clutching him as her skates wobbled beneath her.
“Don’t let me fall!” She squeaked as she gripped onto the sleeves of his coat
“I won’t,” he promised calmly, holding her hands firmly in his. “I’ve got you.”
He slowly guided her forward, step by careful step, matching her pace. “Just little pushes, let the skates glide,” he said gently.
“I feel like a baby deer,” Rosie muttered, concentrating hard.
“You’re doing great,” he replied.
It was slow progress, but he never let go, always keeping his eyes on her. And after a few minutes, Rosie looked up with a wide smile. “I’m skating!”
“You are,” Shoto said, his voice full of warmth. “You’re a natural.”
She laughed, eyes sparkling. “You’re a liar, but I appreciate the confidence.”
He chuckled softly. “You’re braver than most people who step on the ice for the first time.”
They skated another slow lap like that, hand in hand, as her nervousness faded into joy. Around them, friends laughed and played, but in that moment, it felt like just the two of them.
“Thank you, Sho,” Rosie murmured, cheeks flushed and smile bright as their skates glided slowly across the ice.
“Anytime,” Shoto replied, his voice as calm and steady as his grip on her hands. He gave her fingers a light, reassuring squeeze, his breath puffing into the wintry air between them.
Just then, Rosie’s gaze caught on Momo, who, graceful as ever, spun effortlessly into the air and landed with perfect poise, her hair fanning out like silk before settling back in place.
Rosie’s eyes went wide with awe. “I wanna learn how to do that,” she said, pointing eagerly at the elegant spin.
Shoto followed her line of sight, brow lifting slightly as he nodded in approval. “Momo makes it look easy.”
“It looks like a magical princess move,” Rosie sighed wistfully. “Do you think I could learn?”
He glanced back at her, something soft flickering in his eyes. “We can build you up to that.”
Her face lit up. “Really?”
“Of course,” he said smoothly, gently nudging her to turn. “Let’s start with something smaller. I’ll teach you how to skate backward.”
“Backwards?” Rosie echoed, already nervous again. “Sho, I just learned how not to die going forward.”
“That’s exactly why this is next,” he said, that rare ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re already more balanced than you think.”
She gave him a look, but still let him reposition her hands in his. “Okay. I trust you.”
“Good.” Shoto began gliding backward slowly, coaxing her to follow by gently tugging her forward. “Bend your knees just a little. Don’t lean too far—let your momentum carry you.”
“I am momentum,” she muttered under her breath as she concentrated. But little by little, with Shoto patiently guiding her, she managed a few backward steps, more confident than before, a grin sneaking onto her face.
“You’re doing it,” he said calmly, though there was something a little proud in his voice.
“Holy crap, I’m doing it!” Rosie laughed.
But just as she began to find her rhythm, a blur of red zipped past them—a kid in a puffy jacket, moving way too fast for someone so small.
“Watch out!” she squeaked, and a second later, the kid clipped the edge of her skate.
She yelped as her balance wavered, legs tangling with Shoto’s. He reacted instantly—arms catching her around the waist and pulling her to him tightly, his skates dragging slightly across the ice as he worked to steady them both. Rosie’s hands clutched his coat as they came to a shaky stop.
“You okay?” he asked, his face close, voice quiet and calm against the backdrop of music and chatter.
Rosie blinked, startled but unharmed, nodding quickly. “Yeah—yeah, thanks.”
From across the rink, Katsuki had just finished beating Kaminari when he looked up—just in time to see Shoto’s arms around Rosie, her face inches from his, her hands tangled in his jacket.
His eyes narrowed. The corners of his mouth twitched downward. The protective warmth he’d felt earlier evaporated, replaced with that familiar little flame of jealousy that burned hot and sharp in his chest.
“Oi,” he muttered under his breath, earning a blink from Eri beside him. He shoved off with his skates, stalking toward the two with a sharp glare cutting through the chill in the air.
Shoto, of course, didn’t even flinch when Katsuki approached.
“You good?” Katsuki asked Rosie pointedly, already pulling her gently out of Shoto’s arms and into his own without waiting for permission.
Rosie looked up at him, surprised at the sudden shift, but nodded. “Yeah, just got bumped into.”
“I saw,” he muttered, his tone low and possessive as he brushed a bit of hair from her face. “You need to be more careful, dumbass.”
“I didn’t plan on becoming the human domino effect,” she huffed, but her cheeks were pink—whether from the fall or the way he was holding her close, she wasn’t sure.
Shoto, unbothered as always, simply adjusted his gloves. “She was doing well before that.”
Katsuki glared at him. “Don’t need your commentary.”
Rosie rolled her eyes. “Oh my god,” she muttered under her breath. “You two need a hobby.”
Katsuki didn’t let go, keeping her close as he subtly shifted to block Shoto from view. Rosie, still breathless from the near fall and caught between the two most intense people she knew, couldn’t help but giggle.
“You’re ridiculous,” she whispered, brushing her hand along Katsuki’s jaw.
He snorted, finally leaning in and murmuring just loud enough for her to hear, “You’re lucky I didn’t cause a scene.”
“You did cause a scene,” she teased.
“Che,” he scoffed. “Whatever. Let’s go. I’ll teach you how to skate without almost falling into Icy Hot’s lap.”
“I’ll come back for another lesson Sho!” Rosie called back, waving at him.
Shoto smirked, waving back at her. “I’ll be waiting!”
Katsuki scowled, “stop calling him that.”
“He’s my friend,” she rolled her eyes.
Rosie grinned, and as he led her away from the center of the rink, her heart fluttered. She still wasn’t sure how she got lucky enough to have both a best friend like Shoto and a boyfriend who got jealous just seeing her laugh with someone else.
The ice rink buzzed with laughter, the chill of winter air mixing with bursts of joy as all of Class 1-A took to the ice under a canopy of twinkling string lights. Soft music played overhead, and the scent of warm churros and hot cocoa drifted from a nearby stand. The night was alive with that special holiday energy—joyful, chaotic, and filled with memories waiting to be made.
Rosie giggled as she wobbled slightly, clutching Mina’s and Uraraka’s hands on either side of her as they glided together in a clumsy, laughing line across the ice.
“Okay but seriously—this is adorable,” Mina gushed. “We need a picture! Someone take a picture!”
“I’m trying not to fall and die,” Toru called, skidding slightly as Jirou caught her arm and steadied her.
Tsuyu, skating gracefully nearby, gave Rosie a thumbs-up. “You’re improving, ribbit.”
Rosie beamed. “Sho helped me! But if I fall now, it’s all my fault!”
“Don’t say that!” Uraraka squealed, gripping her arm tighter. “We’ll all go down like dominos!”
Just as the girls began to get the hang of skating in sync, a sudden whoosh of wind blew past them.
“Wha—was that Kaminari?” Jirou blinked.
“Oh no,” Momo muttered, eyes narrowing.
Across the rink, the boys of had abandoned any pretense of innocent skating. Kaminari had launched himself forward with a jolt of electricity under his skates, sparks crackling in his wake as he zipped past Kirishima.
“ OI! That’s cheating!” Kirishima called out, laughing as he activated his quirk, hardening his body just before charging forward. “Time to show you how a real man skates!”
“Like a fridge on blades!” Kaminari jeered over his shoulder.
“Want me to ice the rink even more?” Todoroki offered casually, already skating backward at an alarming speed, a faint mist of frost trailing behind him from the ice he discreetly added beneath his feet.
“NO!” several voices shouted at once.
“That’s literally how we’ll all break our necks!” Iida called, his skates slicing efficiently across the ice with textbook precision.
Bakugou, of course, wasn’t going to sit back and let this nonsense slide. “Outta my way, extras!” he growled, blasting himself forward using tiny, controlled explosions that sent him soaring past them all like a skating rocket, sparks popping in his wake.
“HE’S DOING IT AGAIN!” Kaminari cried out, narrowly ducking a firecracker burst of propulsion as Katsuki passed.
“This is exactly like the pool incident,” Momo deadpanned from the safety of the edge, watching as the boys descended into a chaotic display of ego and competitive insanity.
Rosie leaned on the railing with the rest of the girls, all of them watching the scene unfold with tears of laughter in their eyes.
“Should we stop them?” Toru asked.
“Do you want to die?” Jirou replied dryly.
Uraraka nearly snorted out her cocoa. “Why are they like this ?”
Eri, bundled up in a red coat and fuzzy earmuffs, peeked up at Rosie from where she stood by the railing with a churro in hand. “Are they fighting?”
“No, sweet girl,” Rosie chuckled, ruffling her hair. “They’re being boys.”
“They’re like penguins,” Tsuyu added helpfully. “Loud, flappy penguins.”
Back on the ice, Bakugou and Kirishima had started racing laps, each determined to outdo the other, while Todoroki glided by smugly, occasionally freezing sections behind them just enough to trip Kaminari, who dramatically fell— again .
Rosie covered her mouth to muffle her laugh. “Should we help him?”
“Nah,” Mina said, taking another selfie. “This is gold.”
Then, all at once, the guys converged mid-rink in a crash of limbs, scarves, and half-controlled quirks, landing in a giant pile of groans and complaints.
“Ow—Todoroki, your butt is cold!”
“I’m not even touching you.”
“You froze my sock, man!”
Katsuki exploded out of the pile first, yelling, “Next one who falls on me fucking dies! ”
The girls broke into full-blown laughter.
“God,” Rosie whispered, wiping a tear. “They’re insane.”
“Yeah,” Mina said with a fond grin. “But they’re our insane.”
Rosie smiled, watching Katsuki stalk back toward her, ice melting in his wake and a scowl etched on his face.
When he reached her, she leaned on the rail and smirked. “You win?”
“Obviously,” he muttered, brushing some frost out of his hair. “Extras don’t stand a chance.”
“You looked like a firecracker on wheels.”
“Damn right.”
She reached out and tugged him forward. “Come be my penguin.”
“Tch. You’re lucky you’re cute.” But he let her pull him back onto the ice anyway, their hands tangling as the holiday lights above shimmered and the chaos continued behind them with Izuku, Shoji, and Tokoyami joining in on the next race.
Notes:
so this chapter was supposed to come out a couple of days ago but I’m also currently participating in a gift exchange as well as editing my other WIPs
Chapter 87: I’m gonna hold a grudge against gingerbread men now.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The bitter chill of the early December morning clung to their jackets as Katsuki and Kirishima stepped into the warm, softly lit interior of the jewelry store. A tiny bell above the door jingled, announcing their arrival as the scent of polished wood, vanilla candles, and something faintly floral welcomed them inside.
Katsuki’s hands were stuffed in his pockets, a to-go coffee cup cradled between them like a necessary evil. The steam rose lazily from the lid, catching the faint golden glow of the boutique’s chandeliers. He took a slow sip, lips pursed in irritation, eyes scanning the neat glass displays filled with glittering earrings, necklaces, and bracelets.
“I still think this is dumb,” he muttered, his voice gravelly, the coffee doing little to soften his tone.
Kirishima, beside him, was already grinning around his own oversized cup of peppermint mocha. “Yeah, yeah, you keep saying that—but you’re here, man. So clearly, I was right.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “You and the old hag. I told her I already bought Rosie enough stuff and she starts going on about how every girl loves jewelry.” He took another long sip. “Then you started in on it too.”
“Because it’s true! ” Kirishima laughed, slapping him on the back as they approached a sleek counter with twinkling rings displayed on velvet. “Rosie’s the kind of girl who’d wear a necklace every day just ‘cause you gave it to her.”
“She’s the kind of girl who’d wear a damn paperclip if I gave it to her,” Katsuki grumbled, though his voice had softened just a touch. “That’s the problem. She’d love whatever I got her— even if she didn’t actually like it. ”
Kirishima tilted his head thoughtfully. “So… get her something you like too. Something that makes you think of her. Something personal.”
Katsuki’s jaw flexed as he looked down at the display case. The diamonds and pearls didn’t catch his eye—but something daintier, softer, did. A delicate silver bracelet with tiny charms shaped like flowers and stars. He didn’t even realize he was leaning closer until the saleslady walked over and offered him a smile.
“Looking for anything in particular?” she asked politely, hands clasped neatly in front of her.
Katsuki grunted. “My girlfriend.”
Kirishima elbowed him. “What he means is we’re shopping for a gift for his girlfriend.”
She chuckled. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. Do you know her style?”
Katsuki nodded, though his frown remained firmly in place. “Yeah. Sweet. Pretty. Likes girly shit—lace, flowers, sparkly things. Dresses up for every damn holiday.” He paused, expression softening as he mumbled, “Spring’s her favorite season.”
The saleslady’s eyes lit up. “Ah, I think I might have just the thing.”
Katsuki watched her walk away, then looked over at Kirishima, who was giving him a knowing grin.
“What.”
“You’re so whipped, man.”
“Shut the hell up.”
Kirishima raised his cup in a mock toast. “To Katsuki, my best friend who is head over heels in love that he is jewelry shopping.”
“Fuck off.”
But even as he growled, Katsuki’s eyes drifted back to the case—and the thought of Rosie’s face lighting up when she opened the tiny box on Christmas morning was enough to keep him standing there, coffee cooling in his hands.
“I’m just saying man that all woman love jewelry and that includes Rosie, especially since Rosie loves shiny stuff, right?”
“She’d love a rock I found in a parking lot if I said I picked it up thinkin’ of her,” Katsuki muttered, glaring at the rings in the nearest case like they’d offended him.
“Which is exactly why you gotta pick something that shows you put actual thought into it,” Kirishima said, flashing him a grin.
A few moments later, the woman returned, cradling a small velvet tray like it was made of glass. She set it down with care and lifted the lid, revealing a delicate silver necklace. Twisting vines of silver wound around the base of the chain, holding tiny white diamonds that shimmered under the lights. At the center, a soft pink diamond in the shape of a teardrop gleamed like it had been plucked from the spring air itself.
Katsuki froze.
It was her.
The necklace was her .
All he could picture was Rosie—her soft pink hair tucked behind her ear, her rosy cheeks flushed from the cold, those blue eyes sparkling when she smiled. He imagined the pink diamond resting just below her collarbone, catching the light as she tilted her head in that way she always did when she was thinking about something.
“I’ll take it,” he said without hesitation, his voice low but firm.
The woman blinked, surprised. “We do have other pieces in the same collection, if you’d like to compare—”
“No,” he said quickly, and swallowed. “That’s the one.”
He glanced at Kirishima, who raised a brow and grinned wide. “Looks like you found the one, bro.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes and took another long drink from his coffee, trying to ignore the way his heart felt like it was trying to punch its way out of his chest. “Yeah, well… she better like it.”
“She will,” Kirishima said easily. “It’s got Rosie written all over it.”
He stepped into her apartment, the cozy warmth immediately wrapping around him like a soft blanket. The scent of gingerbread and vanilla frosting hit him instantly, mingling with the cheerful jingle of a Christmas movie playing faintly from the TV in the living room. His gaze landed on Maya chasing after Lady, the small kitten darting between couch legs with a mischievous spark in her eyes as Maya's tail wagged excitedly. Katsuki crouched down, ruffling the dog’s ears and scratching behind Lady’s chin before standing up and peeling off his jacket.
He followed the sound of soft humming and the clink of baking tools into the kitchen—where he found her.
His heart tugged.
There she was, his girl, standing at the kitchen island in tiny nutcracker-themed shorts and a fitted tank top, her favorite Christmas apron tied snugly around her waist. Her hair was piled into a lazy bun with little strands falling around her face, and there was a smudge of flour dusted across her cheek. The counter was covered in ingredients, open recipe books, and festive cookie cutters. She looked… perfect .
Katsuki didn’t say a word. He just walked up behind her, arms slipping around her waist as he buried his face into the curve of her neck, inhaling the warm, sugary scent of her skin mixed with cinnamon and vanilla.
She jumped slightly, then relaxed into him with a soft laugh. “You’re back early,” she murmured, tilting her head to the side so he could kiss her neck.
He nuzzled her. “Kirishima talks too damn much. We grabbed lunch, and I bailed.” He peeked over her shoulder. “What the hell are you doing in here? Looks like a Christmas bomb exploded.”
She giggled, using the back of her hand to push a strand of hair out of her face. “Baking cookies.”
“I can see that.” He tilted his head. “Why?”
She paused for a beat, then shrugged with a soft smile. “It’s tradition. My mom and I used to do it every year. We'd bake way too many cookies and give them out to everyone. I just… wanted to keep it going.”
He was quiet for a moment, watching her. His chest tightened at the mention of her mom—but the way she kept smiling, kept pouring warmth into something so simple, was enough to make him want to keep that tradition going just for her.
“Can I help?” he asked, nudging her gently with his chin.
She looked up at him, surprised, then grinned. “You? Help me bake?”
He scoffed. “Don’t act like I can’t follow a damn recipe.”
“I would love your help,” she said, spinning around and giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Then wash your hands and grab a rolling pin, sugarplum.”
And so, they got to work. Flour flying. Dough rolling. They made gingerbread men with tiny candy eyes and clumsy icing smiles. Sugar cookies in the shape of stars, bells, and reindeer. Even her sugar plum cookies, which she swore were “impossibly underrated” and “peak Christmas flavor.”
They took turns decorating, flicking flour at each other like kids. He pretended to be annoyed when she got frosting on his cheek—but didn’t stop her when she laughed and kissed it off.
When the cookies were finally in the oven, the scent blooming warm and sweet around them, she turned on the little speaker in the corner and started playing Christmas music. One of those vintage jazzy ones she loved. She was swaying at the sink when he came up behind her again, grabbing her hand and spinning her into him.
“Katsuki—” she laughed, but he was already moving, slow and confident as he rocked with her side to side.
“You’ve got flour on your nose,” he murmured.
She pouted. “You put it there.”
He smirked. “Yeah. ‘Cause you look cute.”
With the mess cleared and the kitchen warm with the scent of baking, he caught her by the waist and spun her gently into a dance. She laughed as he guided her in a lazy waltz, bare feet sliding over the tiles, his hands on her hips. They moved together like they had a hundred times before—but somehow this time was sweeter, slower, laced with sugar and memories.
He leaned in close, his voice low against her ear. “You taste like cookies already.”
“Oh?” she teased.
With a quick motion, he bent slightly and lifted her effortlessly onto the counter, setting her between the mixing bowls and cookie cutters. She blinked in surprise, cheeks flushed from the warmth and maybe a little from him too. Then he stepped between her knees, hands sliding along her thighs, she giggled as he cupped her face and kissed her, slow and deep, her fingers tangling in the collar of his shirt. She tasted like sugar and plums, just like he’d imagined—sweet and a little intoxicating.
Her arms looped around his neck as she melted into him, the smell of baking cookies and her shampoo filling the space between them. The kiss deepened, turning hungry. Her legs wrapped around his waist, tugging him closer, and his hands slid along her thighs, gripping, grounding. They moved together, slow friction, heat building between their bodies like the oven behind them. He yanked her to the edge of the island where he began to ground his erection against her thin shorts that were growing soaked by the second. Breathless gasps filled the quiet spaces between kisses, her name murmured against her mouth, his hands under her shirt, her nails dragging along his back through the fabric.
Just as her head tipped back with a soft moan, the oven timer dinged , a sharp interruption that cut through the haze like a bell signaling the end of a dream.
They both froze.
She blinked at him, flushed and dazed. “…That’s the cookies.”
He groaned, forehead dropping to her shoulder. “Those damn cookies.”
She laughed breathlessly, brushing his hair back from his face. “We should get them before they burn.”
“I’m gonna hold a grudge against gingerbread men now.”
“Too bad,” she grinned, hopping off the counter and kissing him once more. “You still have to help me decorate them.”
He sighed dramatically, already reaching for oven mitts. “Fine. But after that, I’m eating them and you.”
She flushed, her face a pretty shade of pink, her lips coated in frosting and saliva. “Promise?”
“It’s always a promise,” he helped her off the counter
After they finished frosting the last batch of cookies—some a little too overloaded with sprinkles thanks to her—Katsuki helped her clean up the war zone that had once been their kitchen. Flour dusted the floor, frosting was smeared across the counter like a battleground, and the air still smelled like sugar and cinnamon.
He didn’t even mind. Not when she smiled at him like that the whole time.
Once the place was spotless—or, well, mostly spotless—he headed to the bedroom and ducked into the shower. The heat worked out the tension in his shoulders, but nothing compared to how relaxed he felt when he stepped out and saw her.
Rosie was already curled up in bed, her hair loose now and spilling across the pillow. She looked so damn peaceful, tucked under the blankets, her breathing slow and steady. Maya was nestled against her hip, and Lady was curled up at the end of the bed like a little ball of fluff.
Something in his chest pulled tight.
This quiet moment, this ordinary, perfect scene hit him harder than anything else had all day.
He slipped under the covers carefully, not wanting to disturb her. But the second the mattress dipped, she stirred. Without opening her eyes, she turned and pressed herself against his side, her arm slinging around his waist, her head finding its place on his chest like it was made for it. She wrapped her whole body around him like she couldn’t bear a single inch of space between them.
Katsuki let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, threading one hand into her hair and the other around her back, anchoring her to him. Her skin was warm against his, her breath soft where it ghosted over his chest.
He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, heart thudding slow and steady beneath her ear. This is it , he thought. This is everything.
Not the fights. Not the victories. Not the loud, chaotic world waiting outside their door. Just her. Rosie. The way she held onto him in her sleep like he was the safest place in the world. The way her presence filled every corner of the room with something bright and quiet and good.
He’d never say it out loud—hell, maybe not yet—but damn if life wasn’t perfect like this. If he had her in his arms, warm and close like this every night, he didn’t need anything else. Not ever.
Notes:
Finally got my car back yay! Onto other good news is that I am able to write again as physical therapy has been amazing in me able to being able to at least bend my fingers without crying (haha...) Daily updates will start up again next month:)
Feel like I'm forgetting something...uhhhh oh yeah! So I have something special I have planned and I'm curious to ask you guys what you guys would want. Would you guys like for another long Katsuki fic? or a little mini series of him? Because I have so many ideas but I don't know which to do but please let me know<33 let me know your thoughts on this chapter and hope you guys have a great day!
Chapter 88: You’re adorable when you’re not being a menace
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie and Eri always brought a kind of brightness into their dad’s place that made it feel more like home than it ever did on its own. Especially around the holidays, when laughter echoed through the halls and the scent of something sweet drifted in from the kitchen.
Earlier that evening, they’d bundled up and gone out to look at Christmas lights—Eri’s hand tucked into Rosie’s gloved one as she pointed out her favorites: glowing reindeer, sparkling stars, candy canes blinking in sync with holiday music. Their dad trailed behind them with quiet amusement, watching his daughters with that soft, barely-there smile that he reserved just for them.
By the time they returned home, cheeks rosy from the cold and hearts warm from the magic of it all, Rosie was already rolling up her sleeves and pulling ingredients out of the fridge.
Dinner wasn’t going to cook itself.
Despite being only three-quarters Japanese, Rosie had never been shy about diving headfirst into cooking. But unlike her dad and Eri—who were both full Japanese and usually leaned toward traditional dishes—Rosie had carved out her own niche in the kitchen. Every winter holiday, without fail, their dad and Eri made the trip to America to spend it with Rosie and her mom. And somewhere along the way, the food became part of the tradition.
A mix of cultures. A mix of love.
Tonight, it was baked mac and cheese, honey-glazed carrots, roasted asparagus, and smoked turkey and her mom’s famous pineapple honey glazed ham—recipes she’d memorized and perfected over the years.
The kitchen was a buzz of warmth and motion. Eri stood on a step stool, grinning up at Rosie as she carefully stirred the cheese sauce, her oversized apron nearly swallowing her whole. Their dad was by the sink, drying vegetables with a practiced hand and cutting them with clean, precise strokes.
“Okay,” Rosie said, eyeing the bubbling casserole dish and the veggies roasting in the oven, “we’re almost there.”
She wiped her hands on a towel and looked down at Eri with a grin. “Hey, munchkin, think you can go set the table?”
Eri perked up. “Yes, chef!” she said with a salute, hopping down from the stool with determination. Rosie smiled as the girl padded off, dragging the silverware tray with her.
Then she turned to her dad. “Can you set the dishes out?”
He nodded wordlessly, already moving toward it, sleeves rolled up and the faintest hint of a smile still lingering on his lips. Just as Rosie turned back to check on the ham, the doorbell rang.
She paused, brow lifting in curiosity, and glanced toward the hallway. “You expecting someone?”
Her dad shook his head, drying his hands as he walked past. “No. Maybe a neighbor?”
Rosie wiped her hands again and followed him to the front door. When it swung open, the last person she expected to see was standing on the porch in a bright red coat, carrying a six-pack of sparkling cider and grinning like he’d just stepped off a holiday commercial.
“Uncle Mic!” Eri’s voice rang out excitedly as she came running from the dining room.
“Yo! My favorite girls!” Hizashi exclaimed, stepping inside with a gust of cold air and wrapping Eri in a big hug. “Hope you haven’t started without me!”
Rosie blinked in surprise, then laughed. “Dad told me that you weren’t coming.”
He winked. “Surprise. I was able to finish up my paperwork sooner than expected. Hope that’s still cool sweet pea.”
“More than cool,” Rosie said with a grin, stepping aside so he could come in. “You’re just in time—we were about to eat.”
“Perfect,” he said, kicking off his boots and ruffling Eri’s hair. “I brought drinks and some of those chocolate mochi your dad likes.”
Their dad gave a low hum of approval. “Good timing.”
With everyone now under one roof, the house felt full in the best way—laughter, clinking dishes, warm food, and familiar voices all blending together into something that felt like the holidays should feel. Not perfect. But real. And surrounded by the people who mattered most.
Rosie glanced around the table, her heart full as she caught Eri’s bright smile, her dad’s quiet contentment, and her uncle’s ridiculous attempts to get everyone singing along to a jazzy rendition of “Frosty the Snowman.”
After dinner, the kitchen filled with the steady clink of dishes and the low hum of conversation. Aizawa and Hizashi stood at the sink, sleeves rolled up, passing plates and glasses between them like clockwork. Between talk of paperwork, students, and some wild patrol story Hizashi could barely get through without cracking up.
Rosie glanced over at them with a soft smile, then turned to Eri, who was already rubbing her eyes and stifling a yawn. “Alright, kiddo,” she said gently, brushing a bit of chocolate off the corner of Eri’s mouth, “time for showers and pajamas.”
Eri perked up slightly at the mention of pajamas. “The matching ones?”
Rosie grinned. “You bet.”
They padded off to the bathroom together, the warmth of the evening lingering on their skin, laughter echoing behind them. After her own quick shower, Eri got dressed in pajamas that were red with little white snowflakes and tiny dancing reindeer. Rosie had gotten matching sets for everyone, even their dad and Uncle Mic, who had grumbled good-naturedly but still wore them because Eri’s excitement was impossible to say no to.
Rosie’s version was a bit oversized, sleeves slipping over her hands, hair damp and curling slightly at the ends as she helped Eri blow dry her hair and get settled. Once they were both dressed, Rosie pulled out her phone and snapped a few pictures of them together in front of the Christmas tree, Eri flashing her best peace signs and Rosie beaming next to her. They made silly faces, held up their mugs of hot cocoa like trophies, and posed dramatically with a plate of peppermint bark brownies they'd saved for dessert.
“Alright,” Rosie said, lifting the plate and heading for the couch, “movie time.”
They curled up together under a fleece blanket, nestled close as The Polar Express played softly on the screen. The room glowed with the gentle twinkle of lights wrapped around the tree and lining the windows, casting everything in a soft golden hue.
Halfway through the movie, Uncle Mic stood up and dusted off his hands. “Alright, I gotta head out. Got a hot date with someone who said she makes better brownies than Rosie.”
“Impossible,” Rosie said with mock offense.
Hizashi leaned down, ruffling Eri’s hair and giving Rosie a wink. “I’ll get a second opinion and report back.”
“Have fun,” she called after him as he grabbed his coat and waved on his way out.
With the apartment quieter now, they watched the rest of the movie snuggled up, the peppermint bark brownies slowly disappearing one by one. When the credits rolled, Rosie looked down to find Eri curled up at her side, blinking sleepily.
“Hey,” Rosie whispered, nudging her gently, “you still wanna open one present?”
Eri nodded, just barely. Rosie helped her to the tree, where she handed her a small, square box with a silver ribbon. Eri opened it slowly, revealing a pair of warm, stylish boots lined with faux fur.
Her face lit up. “They’re perfect.”
Rosie helped her try them on, smiling at the sight of the boots on her feet. “Now your toes won’t freeze when we go see lights again.”
Eri nodded, then leaned into Rosie, eyes already fluttering shut.
A moment later, Aizawa stepped out from the hallway, drying his hands on a towel. Rosie looked up and gave a small, knowing smile. “She’s out.”
Wordlessly, Aizawa crossed the room and scooped Eri up with ease. She nestled against his shoulder, thumb tucked under her chin, still wearing one boot. Rosie followed behind as he carried her to her room, tucking her in gently, brushing back a strand of hair from her forehead before closing the door softly behind him.
When he returned to the living room, he found Rosie sitting on the floor in front of the small shrine he kept in the corner—candles flickering softly, a framed photo of her mother at the center, surrounded by little keepsakes, folded paper cranes, and offerings from previous visits.
She sat bowed in silence, her hands resting in her lap, her eyes focused on the photo. He didn’t say anything at first. Just watched her, the soft curve of her shoulders, the way the candlelight danced against her face.
After a moment, she spoke quietly, still looking at the picture. “Do you think she’s happy I came to Japan?”
Aizawa stepped closer, kneeling beside her, the warmth of his presence grounding. He looked at the shrine, at the photo of the woman they both had loved in their own way. “I think,” he said slowly, “that she would be proud of you just as I am.”
Rosie’s lips trembled, but she nodded. “I just wanted to feel closer to her. And being here, with you and Eri… it feels right.”
He rested a hand gently on her back, rubbing slow circles there. “She’d be happy you followed your heart.”
Rosie turned slightly, leaning into Aizawa’s side. Her cheek brushed against his shoulder, and though her tears didn’t fall, they shimmered unshed in her eyes like tiny stars. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice soft and trembling.
They sat in a silence that wasn’t heavy—but reverent. The warm flicker of the shrine’s candles danced across the room, shadows casting long, flickering shapes behind her mother’s photograph. It was peaceful in a way that made Rosie feel like she could finally ask the questions that had haunted her for too long.
After a minute or two, she sniffled quietly, biting her bottom lip as she gathered the nerve to speak. “Has Hawks figured anything out about Mom’s case?” she asked, almost too quietly, as if saying it louder might shatter the moment entirely.
Aizawa blinked, his body stiffening just slightly. The warmth in his voice cooled in an instant. “He hasn’t found anything yet,” he said, sharper than she expected.
Rosie looked down, the guilt creeping in at the edges of her thoughts for even asking. But she couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Do you…” she paused, her voice tight, “do you think he really murdered her?”
Aizawa didn’t respond immediately.
His jaw clenched, the muscle twitching beneath his stubble. He stared ahead at the shrine—at the photo of the woman he loved, the woman Rosie is the very image of. His hand, still resting on her back, went still.
“I don’t know, sunshine,” he finally said, voice low and heavy. “But I wouldn’t doubt it.”
Rosie’s breath hitched.
“I suspected foul play from the beginning,” he continued, his voice now quieter, more grounded. “But there was nothing solid. No proof. No trail. They ruled it a freak accident and that was the end of it.”
Rosie stared at the flickering candles, trying not to let the anger take over her grief. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the man who had stabbed her. The one who had followed her across an ocean to kill her too. The one who had laughed when he said he’d finished what he started with her mother.
His eyes, usually tired but soft around Rosie, hardened. His fingers curled slightly, as though reaching for a weapon he didn’t have.
Rosie turned her head, eyes wide. “Do you really think it’s all connected?”
“I know it is,” Aizawa said firmly. “And I promise you this—” he turned to look at her, his gaze as steady as stone “—I will catch the bastard behind it. I don’t care how long it takes or how far I have to go. No one hurts my daughter and walks free. Not after what they did to your mother. Not after what they tried to do to you.”
Her breath hitched, tears finally breaking free.
He pulled her closer, cradling the back of her head gently as she buried her face against his chest. His voice was a low rumble, calm but seething with something deeper beneath the surface. “She didn’t deserve to die like that. You didn’t deserve to live in fear. I swear, Rosie, I’ll find whoever did this. And when I do, they’ll never get the chance to hurt anyone again.”
Rosie clung to him, breathing in the familiar scent of home and safety.
She looked up at her mother’s photo again, her heart still aching, but steadier now. Maybe justice was still far off. But she wasn’t alone. Not anymore.
And neither was her mother’s memory.
“Rosie! WAKE UP! ” Eri’s voice pierced through the cozy quiet of the morning as she bounced energetically on the bed like a kid half her age. “It’s Christmas! Santa came already! ”
Rosie groaned from under a pillow, one eye barely peeking out to glimpse the blinking numbers of the clock on the nightstand. 7:13 a.m. She let out a long sigh, but the smile tugging at the corners of her lips betrayed her tiredness.
“Alright, alright,” she mumbled sleepily, voice muffled by the pillow. “Let me get up and make coffee first, and then we can go wake up Dad.”
Eri practically leapt off the bed, already half-buzzing with excitement as she ran to the hallway, waiting impatiently by the kitchen entrance. Despite being thirteen, she still clung dearly to her belief in Santa Claus, and no one—no one—had the heart to take that away from her. Not Rosie, not Aizawa, not even Kota, who fiercely defended her belief like it was a national treasure. Rosie found it utterly precious, watching her still light up like a child every December.
She pulled herself out of bed, slipping her arms into her favorite oversized cardigan and padding barefoot to the kitchen. Within minutes, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the apartment, rich and comforting. Rosie poured a full mug—extra strong, just how her dad liked it—and added a splash of vanilla creamer for a holiday touch.
“Ready?” she asked, holding out her hand to Eri.
“ Let’s go! ” Eri squealed, grabbing her hand as the two of them tiptoed (then ran) down the hall like mischievous little elves.
They burst into Aizawa’s bedroom in a flurry of giggles and bouncing energy. Rosie flipped on the light while Eri dove straight onto the bed.
“DAD!” Eri yelled, climbing over him like a mountain goat. “Wake up! It’s Christmas! Presents are waiting!”
“Ughhh,” Aizawa groaned into his pillow, tugging the blanket over his face. “I don’t remember signing up for this many wake-up calls…”
Rosie laughed as she leaned over and nudged his side. “C’mon, Scrooge. You’ve got coffee and a kid about to explode with holiday cheer. Get up before she drags you to the tree herself.”
At the mention of coffee, Aizawa peeked out from beneath the covers, dark eyes narrowed but already alert. Rosie held out the steaming mug, and he sat up with a long-suffering sigh, accepting it like it was the key to his very survival.
“You two are relentless,” he muttered, taking a long sip. “Mmm… okay, this is acceptable.”
“Victory!” Rosie cheered as Eri grabbed his other hand and tugged. “Living room! Now! ”
Between Eri’s excitement and Rosie’s teasing, Aizawa was practically marched out of the room and toward the soft glow of the Christmas tree, its twinkling lights reflecting gently off the windows. The apartment was warm and quiet, the hush of early morning broken only by the rustle of wrapping paper and the hum of soft Christmas music playing on the speakers.
Eri dropped to her knees beside the tree with wide, eager eyes. “Can I open them now?”
Rosie nodded with a laugh, curling up on the couch beside her father while he sipped his coffee. “Go for it.”
In a blur of movement and torn paper, Eri began opening her gifts—each one met with delighted squeals or an amazed, “Oh my gosh!” Rosie watched her with a warm smile, resting her head against Aizawa’s shoulder.
“This is the best part,” she whispered.
Aizawa gave a small grunt of agreement, eyes softening behind his usual tired gaze. “Yeah. It is.”
With Eri blossoming into her teenage years, gift-giving had subtly shifted. She was no longer the little girl who squealed over plushies and plastic tiaras—though she still adored them when no one was looking. Now, the gifts leaned toward stylish clothes in her favorite colors, sleek sneakers she’d admired in store windows, and delicate pieces of jewelry that Rosie had lovingly picked out over the past month. Rosie had especially taken to gifting her rings and earrings—dainty and understated, just like Eri herself.
Aizawa, ever the practical one, had gotten her a new laptop for school, a set of high-quality sketch pencils, and an assortment of warm, oversized sweaters he claimed were “approved for indoor lounging only.” Eri had laughed and hugged him so hard his coffee nearly spilled.
After the last of the presents were opened and the living room looked like the aftermath of a wrapping paper explosion, they all pitched in to clean up. Rosie handed out trash bags, Eri gathered the stray bows she wanted to keep for crafts, and Aizawa grumbled as he folded up the now-empty boxes for recycling.
Just as Rosie finished vacuuming the floor, Aizawa’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, sighed, and muttered something under his breath.
“Assignment?” Rosie asked, already knowing the answer.
He nodded and moved toward his room. “Nothing too serious, but I’m needed. I’ll suit up.”
Minutes later, he returned in full hero gear, scarf slung around his neck and his usual tired scowl softening as he looked at his girls. He bent down to kiss the top of Eri’s head. “Stay out of trouble.”
Eri smiled and saluted playfully. “Yes, sir!”
Then he turned to Rosie and kissed her cheek gently, letting his hand linger on her arm. “Save me a brownie.”
Rosie smirked. “Only if you survive.”
A faint chuckle escaped him before he grabbed his coat and disappeared out the door in a blur of hero efficiency.
The apartment felt a little quieter after he left, but not empty. Rosie turned to Eri. “Alright, showers and outfits—go time.”
“Can I use your peppermint soap?” Eri asked as they made their way down the hall.
“Already in the shower,” Rosie winked.
After they had both showered and dressed, Eri in her new soft red sweater, white skirt with snowflake tights and silver earrings—they heard a knock at the door. Eri opened it to find Mirio and Izuku standing there, both grinning brightly.
“Merry Christmas!” Mirio beamed, ruffling her hair. “Ready to come hang with us?”
Eri lit up. “Yeah! Just let me grab my bag.”
She hugged Rosie tightly before slipping on her new boots and waving as she left with her two favorite big brothers, already chattering about the holiday snacks she hoped they had.
Rosie zipped up her overnight bag with a satisfying tug—though it was bursting at the seams. Tucked inside were neatly wrapped presents, new pieces of jewelry from her dad and Uncle Mic, a stack of new books, some gorgeous makeup palettes she couldn’t wait to try, and a few cozy, stylish clothes she’d been gifted. She had to sit on it twice just to get it to close.
With a little huff, she slipped on her favorite deep red coat, wrapped her scarf loosely around her neck, and slid on her gloves. After double-checking that she had everything, she locked up the apartment and headed downstairs, the sound of her boots clicking softly through the quiet lobby.
As she stepped out into the crisp December morning, her eyes instantly caught on him.
Katsuki was leaning against his sleek black car, parked just outside the apartment building. He looked like he belonged in some brooding winter fashion ad—draped in a deep red sweater that clung to his frame under a black wool coat, a soft white scarf wrapped around his neck, black jeans tucked into matching black boots. His breath came out in faint puffs, and his arms were crossed over his chest as he stared down the street like it had personally offended him.
Rosie’s entire face lit up.
She practically bounced over, her bag swinging over her shoulder, cheeks flushed from the cold and excitement. As she reached him, his eyes finally slid to meet hers. They softened immediately—but only for her.
“Merry Christmas!” she beamed.
“Tch,” he grunted, but he was already pulling a large cup from behind his back. “Here. You better appreciate this. It’s hot chocolate. I had to wait in line with screaming kids.”
Rosie’s heart melted just a little more. “Aww, darling, you’re spoiling me.”
He rolled his eyes, looking away with a faint scowl. “Whatever. You take forever to pack.”
She took the cup gratefully, holding it between her gloved hands as she leaned up to kiss his cheek. “You’re grumpy,” she teased gently.
“It’s freezing,” he muttered. “Too early. And I don’t do cheer.”
“And yet,” she said with a sparkle in her eyes, “you’re wearing a festive sweater, brought me hot chocolate, and picked me up at 9 a.m. to spend Christmas with your parents.”
He sighed, tilting his head down as she leaned against him. “Yeah. ‘Cause it’s you, idiot.”
Rosie giggled, taking a sip of the rich hot chocolate before slipping her arm through his. “Well, I’m glad to be your sunshine on this frosty morning.”
He let her hook onto him without complaint, even leaning his head slightly toward hers as they walked to the passenger side. “Just don’t expect me to be nice to anyone else today,” he muttered.
She laughed, pressing another kiss to his cheek as she climbed into the car. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Katsuki closed her door, circled around, and got into the driver’s seat with a grunt. “Damn scarf’s itchy.”
“You look handsome,” she said with a wink.
He turned toward her slowly, expression flat. “I look like I was forced into holiday spirit hell.”
Rosie snorted into her cup. “You look like my very grumpy Christmas prince.”
That earned the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. He started the car and reached out to turn on the heat. “Let’s just get this over with. Mom’s gonna start calling if we’re late.”
Rosie smiled, warm and content beside him, as they pulled away from the curb—his grumbling continuing the whole drive while she hummed along to carols playing on the radio, sunshine to his stormcloud, and the only one who could make him smile through it all.
Katsuki and Rosie sat cross-legged on the living room floor in front of the tree, golden lights twinkling around them. Wrapping paper was already scattered like confetti across the rug, and a pile of opened presents rested at their feet. Mitsuki was still sitting nearby with a mug of tea, beaming like she’d won the lottery as she watched the two of them.
“Here,” Katsuki muttered, handing Rosie a small, rectangular box with a ribbon that was definitely tied by someone with very little patience.
Rosie blinked, cheeks already a bit warm from the attention. “Another one? Katsuki, you didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to,” he cut in, voice sharp, but his eyes softened when she looked at him. “Just open it.”
She untied the ribbon gently and peeled back the paper. Inside was a velvet-lined jewelry box holding a pair of earrings that were teardrop shaped pink diamonds.
Rosie’s breath caught. “It’s… perfect.”
He shrugged, ears going red. “Figured you could wear somethin’ that reminds you of me when I’m not around.”
Her eyes glistened as she leaned in and kissed him, soft and slow, until Mitsuki suddenly clicked her camera.
Katsuki groaned, pulling back with a glare. “Seriously?”
“Oh, shut up. You’re adorable when you’re not being a menace,” Mitsuki said, waving her phone like a weapon. “Now scoot together. I want one more.”
Rosie laughed nervously, scooting in closer. Katsuki mumbled something under his breath but didn't move away. He even rested his hand on her thigh, fingers tapping like it grounded him somehow. Masaru watched with a warm smile from the couch, sipping his tea quietly, as always.
Lunch was served just after noon.
The table was spread with a delicious arrangement of traditional Japanese dishes—grilled fish, sweet rolled omelets, mochi, ozoni soup with chewy rice cakes, and simmered vegetables in delicate broths. Everything smelled heavenly.
Rosie helped Mitsuki set the table while Katsuki hung back with his dad, awkwardly trying not to look like he was hovering near the food.
“Sit, sit,” Mitsuki told Rosie with a wink. “Before the boys eat everything.”
They all gathered around the table, and for a moment, Rosie just took it all in. Katsuki across from her, sleeves pushed up and chopsticks already in hand. Masaru giving her a soft smile when he caught her staring. Mitsuki sliding an extra helping of rice onto Rosie’s plate, fussing like she’d known her forever. It didn’t feel like she was visiting anymore. It felt like she belonged there.
Halfway through lunch, Mitsuki reached for her phone again. “Mom—” Katsuki grumbled, mouth full of tamagoyaki.
“Oh, hush, I’m documenting your happiness.”
Rosie covered her mouth as she laughed. “She’s going to make a whole scrapbook.”
“I am, actually,” Mitsuki said proudly, snapping another picture just as Rosie ducked her head shyly against Katsuki’s shoulder.
He scowled but didn’t pull away.
Later, when lunch was finished and the dishes were cleared, Rosie found herself curled up next to Katsuki on the couch, his arm around her shoulders as he dozed lightly with his face buried in her hair. Mitsuki sat across the room flipping through the photos on her phone, sighing to herself and muttering things like, “Finally, someone got through that brick wall.”
Rosie glanced around the room, the scent of incense lingering in the air, the lights on the tree still glowing softly, and the sound of Masaru chuckling at the TV in the background.
This wasn’t just Katsuki’s family. It was hers too and that made her immensely happy.
Notes:
Sorry for the late chapter, I’ve been busy studying for finals and working on other projects😩 please let me know your thoughts
Chapter 89: Because of your eyes
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Do I really have to share you tonight?” Katsuki muttered, his voice low and gruff as he kept his eyes on the road. His hand gripped the steering wheel tightly, the other resting possessively on Rosie’s thigh.
She smiled softly, glancing over at him while dabbing a bit of shimmer onto the inner corners of her eyes with the help of the mirror visor. “You’ll have me all to yourself later tonight,” she teased, a playful glint in her eye.
He let out a half-hearted growl, his hand tightening ever so slightly on her leg as they passed under streetlamps glowing in the early twilight. “Tch. Better.”
She reached down and gave his hand a gentle squeeze, then turned to peek over her shoulder. The backseat was packed with gift bags—shiny ones, sparkly ones, some messily wrapped by Katsuki himself, but all full of thoughtful little things for their friends.
“We’ve basically got a whole sleigh back there,” she said with a little grin.
“Hmph. Should’ve made them come to us,” he mumbled, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he didn’t mean it.
As they pulled up to Momo’s place, Rosie sat up straighter. Her small mansion was still grand and elegant. Tonight, it looked like something out of a holiday movie. Every window twinkled with white and gold lights, warm and inviting, and the front gate was wrapped in garland with little red bows dotting the length of it. Snow dusted the ground in a soft layer, and the sky had dipped into the deep blue of evening.
“Damn,” Katsuki muttered as he parked. “She really went all out.”
“She always does,” Rosie said, excitement flickering in her chest. “It’s perfect.”
They each grabbed two large bags from the backseat—Katsuki’s muscles barely flinching as he slung both of his over one arm—and made their way up the steps. Their breath puffed in the cold as they reached the tall front doors, already opened for them by a cheerful Denki wearing a reindeer headband.
“Merry Christmas!” he called, ushering them in with a dramatic bow.
“Merry Christmas,” Rosie giggled, brushing past him into the foyer.
The second they stepped inside, they were hit with warmth and the scent of cinnamon, evergreen, and something buttery baking in the distance. They peeled off their coats, scarves, and gloves, Katsuki grumbling as he shrugged out of his layers. Rosie unwrapped her thick knit scarf and slipped out of her long red coat to reveal a dark green sweater tucked into a green and navy blue tartan skirt, accented with sheer tights and the earrings that Katsuki had gifted her earlier.
Katsuki hung their coats on the rack near the door while Rosie adjusted the strap on one of her gift bags.
“Whoa,” she breathed, stepping into the next room with Katsuki at her side.
The grand living room had been transformed into a holiday haven. Garland lined the bannisters of the split staircase, little fairy lights twinkled from the ceiling, and a soft instrumental version of “Carol of the Bells” played from the speakers. At the heart of the room stood a towering nine-foot Christmas tree, its branches draped in crimson and gold ribbons, with glimmering glass ornaments catching the light.
Everyone was already there, laughing and chatting. Izuku and Uraraka were kneeling at the base of the tree, carefully arranging their gifts. Jirou and Hanta lounged nearby with cocoa mugs in hand. Shoto stood near the fireplace, hands clasped behind his back while Momo handed him a tray of cookies. Ida and his girlfriend Mei were sitting on the couch talking with Tsui and Tokoyami.
Rosie grinned as she placed her bags down near the growing pile of presents. Katsuki did the same, though he grunted when Denki tried to help him. “Back off, I got it.”
“Relax, Bakubro, it’s Christmas!” Denki laughed.
Rosie turned to Katsuki with a warm, knowing smile, looping her arm through his. “Ready to celebrate?”
He glanced around at their friends, the cozy glow of the lights, and then looked down at her.
“…Long as I get you at the end of it,” he said, leaning down just enough to brush a kiss against her temple.
Her cheeks flushed pink, and she squeezed his arm.
Tonight was going to be magic.
After placing their gift bags beneath the glittering tree, Rosie barely had time to turn around before a pair of hands looped through hers.
“C’mon, you’re needed in the kitchen!” Mina grinned, tugging her away from Katsuki, who just narrowed his eyes but let her go with a low grunt.
“You’ll survive,” Rosie teased over her shoulder, blowing him a kiss before she was swept into the kitchen by Mina and Toru.
The kitchen was alive with movement and delicious smells—baking spices, chocolate, peppermint, and buttery warmth filled the air. The entire island was transformed into a wintery dessert buffet. Cookies of all shapes and colors were arranged on trays, alongside platters of mochi, delicate cakes, chocolate-dipped strawberries, and gingerbread cutouts that had clearly been decorated with varying levels of skill (and chaos).
Rosie carefully set down her own tray of sugar plum cookies, the light lavender frosting catching the glow of the overhead lights. They were sprinkled with edible shimmer dust and tiny candied violets—she’d been saving the recipe just for tonight.
“Oh my god, these are beautiful,” Toru gushed, leaning over them. “I almost don’t want to eat them… almost .”
With a giggle, she handed Rosie a crystal glass filled with something pink and fizzy. “Try this—it’s that sweet wine Momo got from some fancy vineyard her family knows. It tastes like strawberries and sparkles.”
Rosie accepted it with a smile and took a sip, humming in approval. “Mmm. This could get me in trouble.”
Mina elbowed her playfully. “That’s the spirit!”
The girls all started picking through the dessert table together, building little plates with whatever caught their eye. Jirou grabbed chocolate truffles and ginger snaps. Momo leaned in to slice a small piece of a yule log cake. Rosie picked a few of her own cookies, some white chocolate bark, and a soft pink mochi shaped like a snowflake.
“Alright, couch circle, let’s go!” Mina announced, and the group made their way back into the living room, now illuminated by the soft flicker of the fireplace and the warm glow of the tree.
The girls claimed one of the oversized sectionals in the corner near the tree. They kicked off their shoes, curled up with fuzzy blankets, and began catching up.
“So what have you all done over the break?” Jirou asked, swirling her drink.
“Took my sister skating and absolutely wiped out on the ice,” Mina said proudly, “but it was iconic .”
“I’ve mostly been helping with the orphanage fundraiser,” Momo added with a proud smile. “And baking. A lot of baking.”
“I’ve been sleeping in,” Toru grinned. “Like, deeply. Spiritually.”
Rosie laughed softly, “I spent Christmas morning with my dad and Eri. She still believes in Santa, and no one has the heart to tell her otherwise. It was perfect.”
More laughs echoed around the room until the front door opened again and two more voices carried in.
“Yooo, sorry we’re late!” Shoji called out as he ducked through the doorway, Mineta trailing behind him with two small gift bags.
“There they are,” Toru said, raising her glass. “Now we’re officially complete.”
Momo stood and clapped her hands once to get everyone’s attention. “Alright everyone! Before we get too comfy—game time!”
A chorus of cheers and groans followed. Katsuki, Shoto, Sero, Kaminari, and Kirishima immediately perked up like it was a battle call.
“Finally,” Katsuki muttered, crossing his arms.
“Oh, it’s on,” Denki grinned, nudging him.
“Gentlemen,” Sero grinned, cracking his knuckles. “Prepare to lose.”
Meanwhile, the girls were buzzing about the real important thing.
“Wait, wait—are there prizes?” Toru asked excitedly, her glass halfway to her lips.
“There are, actually,” Momo smiled, motioning toward a small table beside the tree with little wrapped gift boxes and numbered envelopes. “Gift cards, exclusive snacks, and a very coveted set of All Might-themed wireless earbuds.”
“Dibs on the earbuds!” Mina gasped.
“I want the snacks,” said Jirou.
“As for the games,” Momo continued with a proud little twirl, “we’ve got: Christmas Charades, Ornament Relay, Pin the Nose on Rudolph, Holiday Karaoke Showdown, and the final round—Gift Wrap Relay… where you'll wrap a present with oven mitts on.”
Groans and laughter erupted from all corners.
“This is chaos,” Katsuki muttered, but even he smirked.
“This,” Rosie whispered to Mina, “is going to be so fun .”
“The first game,” Momo announced, “Christmas Charades!”
Teams quickly formed. Rosie was paired with Katsuki, much to his satisfaction. Uraraka and Izuku teamed up, as did Shoto and Tokoyami. Momo sat out, being the keeper of the clue cards.
Katsuki crouched beside her, eyes sharp. “We’re winning this.”
Rosie giggled. “You really want those earbuds, huh?”
“Damn right. And you’re my lucky charm.”
He wasn’t wrong. Round after round, they crushed it. Rosie acted out "Santa stuck in a chimney," and Katsuki shouted it in seconds. Katsuki mimed "building a snowman" like he was ready to punch Frosty. They were neck and neck with Shoto and Tokoyami.
As they hit the final round, Rosie got the last clue—"Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer."
She hesitated, looked at Katsuki, then made an exaggerated gesture of putting on a red nose.
Katsuki stared, confused. "Clown?"
She giggled, then pranced in a circle, pretending to fly. He blinked. “Flying clown?"
Time buzzed out.
“WHAT?” Katsuki barked. “It was Rudolph? Why didn’t you—"
Shoto and Tokoyami had won. Shoto smirked, holding up the prize. "Looks like I get to blast All Might’s voice during our gym sessions now."
“Oh, hell no,” Katsuki growled, and lunged.
Suddenly, they were wrestling on the floor. Sero joined in, then Denki. It turned into a pile of boys grunting and shouting while the girls casually moved to the kitchen island.
“Let them work out their testosterone,” Mina said, refilling her wine.
Rosie laughed, munching on a peppermint brownie.
Eventually, the chaos settled and the gift exchange began. Everyone had brought something for everyone—small, thoughtful things. Rosie unwrapped sketchbooks, colored pencils, a set of fine-line pens, a delicate porcelain teacup painted with cherry blossoms.
“Are you seeing a theme here?” Mina nudged her.
Rosie smiled, eyes glistening. “Yeah. People really know me.”
She excused herself to use the bathroom, and on her way back, she was stopped by Shoto in the hall.
"Here," he said, pulling a small velvet box from his jacket pocket.
Rosie blinked. Inside was a silver bracelet with a sapphire set in a delicate snowflake charm.
"It’s beautiful. Why didn’t you give it to me with the others?"
Shoto looked down. “Didn’t want anyone to misunderstand. People still think we have feelings for each other. After what we pulled in class when your dad got suspicious—"
Rosie touched his arm gently. “Thank you, Shoto.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “For always looking out for me.”
He smiled warmly at her, and nodded before turning and leaving. They returned to the living room to find Katsuki, Mina, Izuku, and Sero locked in a fierce Lario Kart battle on the TV.
The cold air kissed Rosie’s cheeks, leaving a flush across her nose as she sat bundled in one of Momo’s thick faux fur blankets on the backyard porch. The firepit glowed with a comforting crackle in the middle of the circle of girls, each of them wrapped up in oversized throws, their cheeks pink from the cold and their hands warming mugs of wine or hot cider. The stars were just beginning to break through the indigo sky above, casting a soft shimmer across the snow-covered yard.
Jirou had a marshmallow slowly turning golden brown over the fire, her expression focused, while Mina laughed as she somehow managed to set hers ablaze for the third time. Toru passed around graham crackers and chocolate squares with giggles as the girls started assembling their gooey, imperfect s’mores. Rosie took a bite of hers, the sweetness and warmth melting on her tongue, a nostalgic comfort against the winter chill.
They chatted lazily—about what they had done over the break, what they hoped the new year would bring, and swapped quiet bits of gossip. Most of the guys were still inside shouting at the TV while fighting each other in Lario Kart. It was peaceful outside, with the snow muffling sound and the fire offering warmth and calm.
After finishing their s’mores, a few of the girls—Mina, Uraraka, and Hagakure—perked up at the sound of the sliding glass door opening. Denki popped his head out, beanie pulled low over his head and scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. "Hey! It's perfect snowman weather out here! Who’s up for a snowman building contest?" he grinned.
Sero, Kirishima, Shoji, Mineta, Koda, Ida, Kaminari, and Izuku followed, already carrying armfuls of random scarves, hats, and gloves clearly meant to decorate their future snowy creations. The girls giggled, a few immediately hopping up to join them, already pulling on mittens and boots. Even Jirou, who looked content to stay warm, couldn’t resist the lure of a snow battle.
Rosie stayed back, her mug of wine half-finished in her gloved hands, content to just watch the fun. Momo remained next to her, both girls wrapped in their large blankets. "They’re ridiculous," Momo murmured fondly, sipping from her cup.
Rosie smiled, watching Mina trying to roll an impossibly large snowball while Sero and Kirishima bickered over who had the most symmetrical base. “They really are.”
The door opened again, and Rosie’s breath hitched slightly when Katsuki stepped out, followed by Shoto. Katsuki wore a heavy black coat lined with fleece, a deep red scarf wrapped around his neck. His hair was windswept from the heat indoors, and his hands were shoved deep into his pockets.
He didn’t say a word as he crossed the patio to her, but his eyes were soft in the firelight. Without asking, he tugged her gently forward, slid into her seat and then proceeded to pull her down into his lap and wrapped the blanket around both of them. Rosie yelped at the movement, giggling as he smirked against the side of her face.
“You’re warm,” he muttered.
“I was sitting here first,” she teased, leaning back into him with a smile.
“Yeah, and now you're sitting where you belong.”
Shoto settled beside Momo with a quiet greeting, the two exchanging a look that spoke volumes without a word. Rosie handed Katsuki the rest of her wine, and he made a face before reluctantly sipping it. Then, gruffly, he nudged her side. “Make me a s’more.”
Rosie gasped, mock-offended. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” he muttered. “You make good ones.”
With a laugh, she pulled together the ingredients and began toasting a marshmallow, humming a Christmas tune under her breath as Katsuki tightened his arms around her waist. They all sat watching the others scamper across the backyard, laughing, slipping, and pretending to be serious about their snowman contest.
Kirishima was sculpting a snowman that looked suspiciously like All Might, and Mina had crafted hers into a mushroom with stick arms. It wasn’t long before Denki threw the first snowball at Sero, who retaliated with a wild barrage, triggering a full-blown snowball fight. Everyone abandoned their half-built snowmen and ducked for cover behind piles of snow.
It was chaos in the most beautiful way.
Rosie had just handed Katsuki his perfect, gooey s’more—one that had just the right amount of chocolate melting over the marshmallow—when a rogue snowball came soaring through the firepit ring and smacked her right on the side of the head. It exploded in a flurry of cold powder, making her yelp in shock, her gloved hands fumbling and nearly dropping the graham crackers.
Katsuki was on his feet before she could say a word.
“The hell?!” he barked, his voice sharp as a whip as he turned toward the backyard where their friends were mid-snowball war. He carefully set Rosie back into the chair, like she was made of delicate glass. “You alright, doll?”
Rosie blinked the snow out of her lashes and brushed at her hair, shaking off the chill. “Yeah… just surprised.”
He crouched down, pressing a kiss to the spot where the snowball had hit. “Be back, doll,” he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. Then he stood tall again, his hands sparking with tiny bursts of light. “WHO THE HELL’S THROWING SNOWBALLS LIKE A BLIND IDIOT?!”
Before anyone could answer, two more snowballs launched through the air—one nailing him in the chest (courtesy of Sero) and another splattering against his shoulder (Izuku’s doing). That was all it took.
Katsuki roared with laughter, bounding into the snow like a man possessed. He tackled Denki into a snowbank, causing a cascade of powder to fly into the air. The rest of the group hollered and scattered, diving for cover and returning fire.
From the cozy firepit, Rosie watched them all—her friends tumbling, shouting, and laughing under the soft glow of string lights and stars above. Katsuki stood out even in the chaos, his blonde hair glinting in the moonlight, his joy loud and uncontainable. Her heart warmed deeper than the fire crackling beside her.
Momo leaned against her shoulder, wrapped in a cream-colored blanket with a peaceful smile. “Best Christmas ever,” she whispered.
Rosie’s eyes never left Katsuki, who was now launching a perfectly formed snowball with sniper-level accuracy at Shoto’s back. He yelped and spun around with narrowed eyes, starting his retaliation.
“Yeah,” Rosie said softly, “it really is.”
It was well after midnight when they finally arrived at Rosie’s apartment. The night air was biting, but Katsuki didn’t seem to care. He made trip after trip to the car, carrying her mountain of gifts, bags of leftovers Momo had all but forced into her arms, and a container of sugar plum cookies.
Rosie, too tired to argue, had collapsed on the couch the moment they walked in, letting out a dramatic groan as she cradled her stomach.
“I regret everything,” she mumbled. “I ate so much today.”
Katsuki snorted as he carried in the final bag, shutting the door behind him. “Please. It was the wine that did you in.”
“Nooo,” she whined, flopping onto her back with another exaggerated groan. “It was the cookies... the pizza... the rice... the hot chocolate... the third helping of cake... oh god.”
He laughed again and came to stand over her as she lifted her sweater just a bit to reveal her normally flat stomach now rounded with food. She poked it with a little pout. “Look at this! I definitely gained weight today.”
Katsuki crouched beside her, resting his elbows on the edge of the couch. “That’s nothing.”
“It’s something!” she protested, still poking at her belly like it had betrayed her.
He leaned forward and kissed the exposed skin with a smirk. “Who cares? You’ll gain more when we have kids.”
Her hand froze. Eyes wide. “W-What?”
He looked up at her, unfazed. “You heard me.”
Rosie sat up slightly, a pink flush spreading across her cheeks. “Don’t—don’t joke about things like that, Katsuki.”
“I’m not joking.” He reached up and gently tucked her hair behind her ear, his gaze soft but steady. “I’ve been serious about you since you looked at me with those pretty eyes of yours.”
“That is ri—” she tried to protest, but he cut her off with a kiss.
“I’m going to marry you one day,” he said against her lips. “You’re gonna have my kids. And you’re gonna be the most gorgeous, terrifying, brilliant mom ever.”
Rosie blinked at him, face aflame, heart in her throat. “W-We haven’t even done it yet,” she stammered.
“And?” Katsuki grinned like it didn’t matter in the slightest. “I know what I want. You. Forever.”
She buried her face in her hands with a squeak, shoulders trembling as she tried to hide her flustered grin. He just laughed and kissed the top of her head.
Yeah, the day had been long. Her stomach hurt from eating too much, her cheeks were sore from smiling, and her feet ached from dancing in boots all night. But none of that mattered. Not when Katsuki Bakugou looked at her like that . Like she was his whole world. And somehow, she was.
“Merry Christmas, Rosie.”
She peeked out from her hands, heart thudding. “Merry Christmas, Katsuki.”
“I’m going to take Maya out which will give you time to put everything away and then you and I can exchange gifts and go to bed.”
“Sounds great,” Rosie murmured, stretching slightly before padding into the kitchen to help Katsuki clean up.
She moved in comfortable silence, putting leftovers into labeled containers, wiping down counters, and stowing away gift bags. Rosie tied her hair up and slipped into one of Katsuki’s old sweaters—it hung off one shoulder and smelled like him, all spice and smoke and that faint hint of caramel he swore he didn’t use in his shampoo.
After everything was tucked away, she flopped onto the couch, wrapping herself in a thick blanket. Lady immediately jumped up and settled in her lap, curling into a soft, warm bundle of fur as Rosie absentmindedly scratched behind her ears. She had just started to relax when the front door opened and Katsuki came in with Maya in tow, their energetic pup practically dragging him inside.
Maya rushed to the water bowl, drinking with dramatic, gasping gulps like she had just finished a marathon before scampering off and crashing into her bed in the corner. Within seconds, she was out cold.
“She needed to burn some energy,” Katsuki said as he stepped behind the couch and bent down to kiss Rosie’s head. His voice was soft now, relaxed and hoarse from the long day of shouting, laughing, and teasing. “You warm enough, doll?”
She smiled up at him sleepily. “Mmhm. Perfect.”
He disappeared into the bedroom for a moment before returning with a small box, then sat down beside her. “Alright. You first doll.”
Rosie blinked, surprised. “Me? But—”
“Nope. You’re going first,” Katsuki insisted, pushing the box into her lap. “Open it.”
With Lady still curled contentedly on her legs, Rosie peeled back the silver and crimson wrapping paper, careful not to tear it too much. When she lifted the lid, her breath caught.
Inside nestled on black velvet was a stunning hairstick—a black platinum hair stick with pink and white cherry blossom flowers and small butterflies dangling off of it
“It’s gorgeous,” she murmured. “Thank you very much. Now for your gift. I saw it in a window display a while ago,” Rosie admitted, reaching for one of the gifts on top, a similarly sized box. “And I thought of you.”
He raised a brow, surprised. “This one’s for me?”
She nodded shyly.
Katsuki tore into the wrapping with far less grace, opening the small box to reveal a necklace: dark platinum metal, sleek and elegant, cradled a rich crimson gem. A tiny, coiled dragon was wrapped around the gem, its tail twisting down the side of the pendant, detailed wings flared with etched precision. His eyes softened. “Looks like it belongs to me.”
“That was the idea,” she smiled, suddenly bashful.
He leaned over and kissed her again, slower this time, his hand cupping her cheek before he pulled back to grab the next box. “Your turn again,” he said, smirking as he passed her a slightly larger package. “Open it.”
Rosie opened the lid to reveal an e-reader tucked into a soft red sleeve case decorated with tiny cherry blossoms.
“You kept complaining about how you hate bringing physical books with you when we travel or go out,” he said. “Always worried they’ll get ruined. So now you’ve got a whole damn library in one thing.”
Her eyes lit up as she ran her fingers across the screen, grinning at the dozens of preloaded books waiting for her. “You remembered…”
“I remember everything,” he grunted, clearly proud of himself.
She laughed and leaned forward to grab her next gift. “Your turn.”
Katsuki blinked when he opened it—inside was the coveted pair of limited-edition All Might wireless earbuds he’d tried to win during the party games at Momo’s.
“You’re kidding,” he muttered.
“Nope. That’s why I sabotaged us in charades,” Rosie confessed, stifling a laugh. “I already had these. I sat hunched over my laptop at two in the morning fighting off bots and scalpers.”
“You little traitor,” Katsuki growled—but he was smirking. “You really bought these?”
“Told you. I think of everything too,” she teased.
He leaned in and nipped at her jaw in thanks before handing her a small, elegantly wrapped box. “This one’s important.”
Rosie looked at him curiously and carefully opened the soft gray paper. Nestled inside was a breathtaking necklace—silver vines twisted into delicate spirals around the base of a fine chain, the leaves studded with tiny diamonds that sparkled like frost. At the center, hanging delicately, was a soft pink teardrop-shaped diamond, glowing under the warm light.
She gasped. “It’s beautiful…”
“I thought of you when I saw it,” he said casually. “Thought the pink would be perfect, since it’s your favorite color.”
She blinked at him, flustered. “It’s not.”
Katsuki stiffened. “Yes, it is.”
Rosie gave a small, embarrassed shake of her head, cheeks pink. “It used to be… but now it’s red.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Red?”
“Because of your eyes,” she mumbled, barely audible, looking down at the necklace.
He stared at her for a moment before chuckling, the sound deep and satisfied. Then he tackled her with kisses, laughing into her neck and hair as she squealed in protest.
“You’re lucky you’re my boyfriend,” she giggled breathlessly.
“Damn right I am” he murmured, brushing her hair back. “And now I know red’s your favorite, I’ll remember that for the future.”
She flushed again as he clasped the necklace around her neck. It sat perfectly against her collarbone, cool and delicate.
They spent the next half hour exchanging a few more small gifts—matching keychains, her favorite pens, a new sketchbook, and a signed copy of a book she'd been trying to find for months.
Eventually, Rosie curled into him again with Lady sprawled across both their legs, her heart full and her cheeks sore from smiling.
“Next year,” Katsuki muttered, tracing her arm with lazy fingers, “I’m buying you nothing but red shit.”
She laughed again, eyes fluttering shut. “Good. I’m looking forward to it.”
And she meant it—every word.
The cold air nipped at Rosie’s cheeks, but she hardly noticed as she snuggled deeper into the warmth of Katsuki’s embrace. They sat on the large chair on the balcony, a thick, cozy blanket wrapped around their shoulders, shielding them from the chill of the early morning. A soft dusting of snow continued to fall, swirling lightly in the air, catching the glow of the outdoor lights as it floated lazily down. Despite the freezing cold, there was something peaceful about the way the snow gently covered the world, turning everything soft and muted.
Rosie held a large mug of hot chocolate in her hands, the steam rising into the morning air, adding to the serenity of the moment. She took a sip, her eyes gliding over the pages of the book she had been reading aloud to Katsuki. Her voice was quiet and soft, but he didn’t mind. He was content, his head resting against her hair as his arms tightened around her midsection. The warmth of his body, his steady breathing, and the solid strength of his presence made the freezing cold air seem like nothing.
Katsuki buried his face into her hair, inhaling deeply as he let out a soft, contented sigh. His hands, large and warm, slid down her sides, resting on her hips as they both settled into the silence, only interrupted by the occasional sound of her reading and the distant whisper of the wind.
"This is nice," he muttered into her hair, the words muffled but warm. "But it’s freezing out here."
Rosie smiled softly, her breath puffing out in a tiny cloud as she turned her head to look at him. “You’re right,” she said. “But it’s kinda magical too, don’t you think? The snow... the peace... everything feels so still.”
Katsuki chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against her back. “You and your romantic ideas.” He paused, his arms tightening around her waist, his lips brushing the top of her head. “Let’s head inside, yeah? I wanna be with you where it’s warm.”
Rosie hesitated for a moment, staring out at the morning sky. The sight of the snow falling gently over the world, the calmness of it all, was something she could have stayed in forever. But the warmth of Katsuki’s embrace, the feeling of being so close to him—she wasn’t sure how much longer she could resist the pull of that.
“Yeah, let’s go,” she agreed softly, leaning into him as he stood up, wrapping the blanket tighter around both of them.
As they stepped inside, the warmth of the apartment enveloped them, the heat a welcome contrast to the frigid cold outside. Katsuki guided her to the couch, and they sat down together, the blanket still cocooning them as they settled down. Rosie could feel the tension leave her body as she sank into the comfort of his arms.
After a few moments, she rested her head against his chest, the steady beat of his heart a calming rhythm in her ear. The atmosphere between them was warm, relaxed. Katsuki’s fingers traced slow patterns over her skin beneath the blanket, sending shivers down her spine, but in the best way.
She took a deep breath, gathering the courage to voice the thought that had been lingering in her mind for some time now. It wasn’t something that had come up often, but it was something she wanted to explore with him. With the way they had been growing closer, she felt that now was the right moment to ask.
“Katsuki,” she began softly, unsure if her voice would betray her nerves. She lifted her head just enough to meet his eyes, her cheeks flushing slightly at the thought of what she was about to say. “I’ve been thinking about something… something I want to try.”
His eyes flickered with curiosity, the intensity of his gaze softening as he tilted his head slightly. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice low and warm, making her feel safe. “What do you wanna try?”
She hesitated, a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling in her stomach. She had always felt comfortable with Katsuki, but this was a new territory—something unfamiliar. But she trusted him, more than anyone else. Taking a steadying breath, she whispered, “I… I want to try bondage. In the bedroom.”
Katsuki blinked, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he processed her words. For a moment, the silence hung between them, heavy and palpable. He didn’t pull away or flinch, though. His hand rested gently on her waist, his thumb rubbing comforting circles into her skin as he studied her.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice cautious but not dismissive. “That’s… that’s a big step, Rosie. You sure you’re ready for that?”
Rosie bit her lip, looking down at the blanket wrapped around them. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the racing of her heart. “I’ve thought about it for a while now. I trust you, Katsuki.”
Katsuki didn’t say anything for a few moments, just watching her with that deep, calculating gaze of his. But then, his lips curved into a slow, reassuring smile. “Alright, doll. We’ll take it slow. But you’re sure about this? This isn’t something you’re saying just ‘cause you think I’d like it?”
Rosie shook her head, meeting his eyes, her hands resting on his chest now, fingers tracing the lines of his shirt. “No, it’s not that. I want this. I want us to try it together… if you’re okay with it.”
Katsuki leaned forward, his lips brushing against hers in a soft kiss, tender and full of understanding. “I’m okay with it,” he whispered against her lips. “And I’ll make sure you feel safe the entire time. We go at your pace, alright?”
Rosie nodded, the weight of her nerves melting away as she let herself relax in his arms. She trusted him, and now, she felt ready to trust him with this. To explore new parts of their relationship. The thought of it was exciting, but even more than that, it felt like a new way to connect with him, to be vulnerable and honest and share something deep and personal.
Katsuki pulled back slightly, his hand gently cupping her cheek as he looked at her with intensity and affection. “We’ll try it, but remember that safe word of ours yeah?”
“Yeah,” she smiled.
“Use it as soon as it’s too much.”
“I promise.”
Notes:
Omg I know it's been a while but between physical therapy, studying for finals and then getting sick during Easter??? I have just taken a break but I'm back! I hope you enjoy this chapter<33 as always have a wonderful day and lemme know your thoughts:)
Chapter 90: You’re doin’ so good, baby
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie hadn’t stopped blushing. She couldn't even think straight.
How could she, when she was laid out like this—nothing more than a black lace lingerie set clinging to her skin, her wrists bound together with silky red rope tied carefully to the headboard?
The room was dim, lit only by the soft golden flicker of candles scattered across the room, throwing dancing shadows along the walls. The scent of them—warm vanilla and leather—filled the air, mingling with the faint hint of Katsuki’s cologne that clung to the sheets beneath her.
And him— God, him —standing at the foot of the bed, just staring at her.
His crimson eyes roamed over her slowly, hungrily, taking in every inch of her exposed skin, the way the black lace hugged her curves, the way the rope made her look so helpless . His chest rose and fell with deliberate slowness, his hands fisting and relaxing at his sides like he was restraining himself from just pouncing .
Rosie squirmed under his gaze, heat flooding her cheeks, down her neck, all the way to her toes. She tugged at the bindings lightly—more out of nervous energy than anything else—but the silk ropes held firm, just snug enough to remind her she wasn’t going anywhere unless he let her.
Oh God, she thought frantically, this is real. I'm actually tied up. He's just standing there... staring like I'm the only thing in the world that matters.
A thrill shot down her spine at the thought.
She had expected to feel embarrassed—maybe even awkward—but instead, all she felt was this strange, burning anticipation. Like she was teetering on the edge of something huge and thrilling, something forbidden , and she had chosen to jump willingly.
Her heart pounded so loud she was sure he could hear it.
She bit her lip, her body tightening under his gaze. Part of her wanted to shrink away from the intensity of his stare, but another, braver part of her—the part that had asked for this—wanted to stretch and arch and show off just to see how much more she could unravel him.
Katsuki’s mouth twitched into the barest hint of a smirk, as if he could read every single one of her racing thoughts. His voice, when it finally broke the heavy silence, was low and rough, sending another shiver straight through her.
“Look at you, doll,” he murmured, stepping forward with slow, deliberate movements. “All tied up for me. Fuckin’ perfect.”
Rosie whimpered under her breath, squeezing her thighs together instinctively. She couldn't remember the last time he had looked at her like this—like she was something precious and dangerous all at once. Like he was going to worship her and ruin her in the same breath.
Was it supposed to feel this intense? Was it supposed to make her feel so... cherished? So desired? Who was she kidding? She had been ruined by him the very minute she had met his gaze for the very first time. She had just been oblivious about it until now.
She had thought bondage would feel cold, detached somehow—but there was nothing distant about the way Katsuki looked at her. Nothing but burning, raw, possessive adoration.
You’re safe. You asked for this. You trust him, she reminded herself, letting herself breathe, letting herself feel .
And oh, how she felt.
Every inch of her skin was hyper aware of him. On the way the bed dipped slightly as he knelt on it. On the way his hands, calloused and familiar, skimmed up the outside of her bare thigh, slow and teasing. Of the way he deliberately didn’t touch the places she craved most yet, building the tension higher and higher until she thought she might snap from it.
“You’re beautiful,” Katsuki muttered, almost like he couldn’t help it. His voice was reverent, like the words were dragged straight from the depths of his soul.
Rosie squeezed her eyes shut for a second, overwhelmed, biting her lip to stop the soft whine from escaping her throat. Her body strained toward him without her even meaning to, desperate for more—for his touch, his mouth, him .
“Eyes on me, doll,” he ordered softly.
She obeyed immediately, her lashes fluttering as she locked onto his smoldering gaze.
“There she is,” he rumbled approvingly, his hands sliding higher now, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “My good girl.”
Rosie’s blush deepened even further, if that was even possible. The praise, the way he said it, the way he meant it—it filled something deep and aching inside her, something she hadn’t even realized was empty until him.
I'm safe. I'm adored. I'm his.
The thought anchored her, even as he leaned over her fully now, the heat of his body blanketing her, the scent of him filling her senses.
And she realized—this wasn’t just about being tied up. It was about trust. It was about surrender. It was about giving herself to someone who would never, ever break her.
Rosie’s heart soared even as her body trembled in anticipation.
“Ready for me, sweetheart?” Katsuki murmured against her ear, his breath hot and shivery on her skin.
Rosie nodded, breathless, her voice barely a whisper when she answered: “Yes, Katsuki. I’m ready.”
And in that moment, she had never meant anything more.
Katsuki smiled against her skin, a low, rumbling sound that made her toes curl. He pressed a soft kiss against her collarbone first, then another, moving upward slowly, savoring her like she was something sacred.
Rosie tilted her head back instinctively, offering more of herself to him. The silky bindings around her wrists tugged slightly with the movement, a reminder of how vulnerable she was — but it only made the moment feel more electrifying, not less. It wasn't fear that twisted warmly in her chest; it was trust .
“You’re doin’ so good, baby," Katsuki whispered against her throat, his hands framing her waist, his thumbs brushing the bare skin just above the delicate lace of her lingerie.
A shudder rippled through her, but it wasn’t from the cold. Her cheeks were burning again — it was impossible not to feel shy under his unrelenting attention — but at the same time, there was a tiny spark inside her that wanted more. Wanted to show him just how much she trusted him. How much she wanted to take another step with him.
Katsuki reached her lips finally, hovering just a breath away.
Rosie whimpered, unable to hide the way she strained up to meet him.
And then he kissed her—not rough, not greedy—but tender . Slow. A deep, molten kind of kiss that spoke louder than any words could. His mouth slanted against hers perfectly, coaxing a soft moan from her that he swallowed greedily.
Rosie's heart raced as she kissed him back, emboldened by the way he groaned low in his throat when she flicked her tongue against his.
The bonds at her wrists tightened again as she moved, but she didn't care.
Let him see, she thought. Let him feel how much I want him.
Katsuki pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against hers, his breathing ragged. His eyes were blown wide, the crimson color swallowed up by black.
“Fuck, Rosie,” he rasped. His hands slid up to cup her face, cradling her gently even as his thumbs brushed over her flushed cheeks. “You drive me crazy, y’know that?”
Rosie let out a breathless laugh, feeling giddy and shy and alive all at once. “You’re not exactly helping, y’know,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion she didn’t bother hiding.
Katsuki kissed her again before she could get more words out—harder this time, more desperate. His mouth worked over hers hungrily, and Rosie matched him with everything she had, surrendering to the intensity of it.
She loved this—the heat, the tension, the safety. Being bound only made it sharper. Every touch, every kiss, every shift of the bed beneath them felt amplified, burning a brand into her very soul.
When he finally pulled away again, he rested his forehead against hers once more, panting softly. His hands slid down her sides, tracing the curve of her waist with reverent slowness. “You sure you’re okay, doll?” he asked, his voice rough with concern and barely restrained desire.
Rosie nodded quickly, then realized he needed more. “I’m okay,” she whispered, smiling shyly. “T-thank you again, for trying this with me. It means a lot to me.”
Something in his face softened—something so raw, so full of adoration that Rosie’s heart clenched almost painfully. He leaned in and kissed her again, slower this time, savoring it. His hand slid to the back of her neck, holding her in place as his mouth moved over hers with infinite tenderness.
Rosie melted into it, into him, her body singing under the press of his touch. She felt shy still, acutely aware of every exposed inch of herself, but there was a growing confidence, too. A quiet voice inside said, You don’t have to be afraid.
She slowly parted her legs for him, and Katsuki growled his approval deep in his chest, rewarding her with a kiss so devastatingly thorough she thought she might dissolve right there into the sheets.
He pulled away, kneeling between her legs with a dark look in his eyes. His large rough calloused hands gripping her thighs and spreading them wider. “So fucking wet for me already…” he swallowed thickly as he stared at her.
“Katsuki…”
His name slipped from her lips like a breathless prayer—soft, needy, trusting. It made something primal stir deep in his chest. She looked at him like he was the only person in the world, like she wanted him, needed him, even now with her hands bound and cheeks flushed with nerves and heat. And damn if she wasn’t the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“So fucking gorgeous…” he muttered, voice rough as gravel, fingers hooked into the waistband of her black panties. He yanked them off in a single motion, the soft fabric slipping free from her legs like it had no right to be there in the first place. He tossed them aside carelessly—as if nothing else mattered but her.
She was laid out for him. Bare. Tied. Eyes wide but trusting. But that trust didn’t make him gentler. It made him more possessive.
“You look like this,” he murmured, stepping closer, “and you still act like you don’t know what you do to me.” He gripped her chin, tilted her face up to meet his. “Filthy little tease. Filthy little whore, aren’t you? All mine.”
Her breath hitched, and her thighs pressed together instinctively. She didn’t deny it—couldn’t. He watched her body react, watched the way her chest rose and fell, the flush that painted her skin like pink watercolor on paper. Still shy, but confident enough to take everything he gave her.
He leaned in, lips just barely brushing her jaw.
"You like it when I talk to you like that, huh?" he whispered low, watching her squirm. “You act so sweet, so innocent. But underneath it all, you want to be ruined by me.”
His voice dropped even lower, his hands slow and reverent as they moved up her thighs, his grip both gentle and commanding. His mouth found hers in the next breath—a kiss that was all heat, control, and hunger. He devoured the whimper that escaped her throat, let it vibrate between them like a spark thrown on gasoline.
But even as he kissed her like he was starving, he never forgot who she was. His. His girl. His sunshine and starlight. His reason for dragging himself out of the dark.
And even when his mouth trailed along her throat, even when he pressed her down into the bed like she was something sacred, he never let her forget it either.
“You belong to me, Rosie,” he murmured against her skin. “Only me.”
And the quiet, shivering way she whispered always was all the permission he needed.
Settling between her legs, he barely touched her clit before she let out a whimper. He swallowed thickly, his eyes transfixed on her soaking cunt. “What a filthy little whore you are, haven’t even touched you and you’re soaked.”
He looked up at her to see her staring at him with pleading eyes, her lips turned into a pout. He placed a gentle kiss onto her clit causing needy whines to leave her mouth.
Arching her back off the bed, she wiggled her hips. He only chuckled, amused at how needy and vocal she began and he hadn’t even done anything to her yet.
“What’s wrong pretty girl?” He rasped
“Stop teasing me,” she peered at him through wet lashes, a cute pout on her lip.
“Who says that you’re in control here?” He flicked her clit causing her to cry out sharply
“Suki…please….” she let out a soft grunt as she wiggled her hips desperately for him to touch her and he found it hard to deny her.
Not when she looked so adorable crying and struggling for him.
“Did you forget that you asked for this?” He asked but didn’t hesitate to shove two fingers inside of her aching cunt causing her to cry out.
He pumped his fingers in and out of her in a lazy manner, occasionally curling his fingers only to watch her spread her legs wider for him. Tears ran down her face as she choked out moans and pleas for him to give her the release she desperately craved.
Staring at her as she drew closer to the edge elicited pleasure from him, something that had started when he met her. Watching her had become a hobby of his, or perhaps that wasn’t the correct word as it was rather a fixation of his. Especially now, your skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, your back arched off the bed, your hips rolling in circles to meet the thrust of his fingers, and god your mouth. That lovely mouth that was wide open and crying out in ecstasy.
“Wanna cum? Does my little slut want to cum on my fingers?” He asked in a hoarse tone. “Answer me.”
“Yes! Please! I wanna cum!”
He flicked his wrist. Once. Twice. And he watched as she came, exploding over his fingers as she cried out. Once she came down, he made quick work to withdraw from her aching cunt and shoved both fingers into her mouth.
“Be a good girl and clean em.”
Katsuki felt his dick twitch in his sweatpants as he watch her wrap her plump swollen lips around his fingers. Sucking and lapping at them eagerly. He groaned internally, as she hummed around his fingers and twisted her tongue to come between both fingers.
“You’re doing so well for me, pretty girl.”
She smiled at him and he could have come right then and there. Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself that this was for her benefit. Not his. But how could he not? His girl, his little temptress was tracing his fingers with her tongue as she stared at him with mascara tear stained cheeks, watering eyes and her mouth full.
Withdrawing from her mouth, Katsuki sits on his legs and watches as his pretty girlfriend pants, her chest heaving causing her breasts to swell. He could see she was growing overwhelmed. He knew her well enough to know and that is why he reached forward and began to carefully untie the soft restraints at her wrists, fingers moving with precision and reverence. The fabric gave way easily, and the moment her hands were free, he caught them in his own, cradling them as if they were something fragile.
Red marks circled her wrists—faint, but visible—and his throat tightened at the sight of them. “Shit,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to one wrist, then the other. “Too tight?”
She shook her head, eyes still heavy-lidded and soft with the lingering haze of pleasure. “No… it was perfect.”
Still, he lingered, brushing his thumbs over the indents like he could smooth them away with touch alone. He leaned down, lips ghosting across her skin, murmuring, “My good girl…”
Rosie let out a small, sleepy sigh, curling into his chest as he shifted beside her. The sheets rustled as he tucked her close, wrapping her up in his arms like he never wanted to let go. He reached over to the nightstand for the water bottle he’d set there earlier and brought it to her lips, watching as she took small sips.
“You okay?” he asked quietly, searching her face for any flicker of discomfort.
She nodded slowly. “More than okay.”
He kissed her temple, pulling the blanket over both of them. His hands moved in slow, gentle circles over her back, the pads of his fingers grounding her, soothing her.
“You did so fuckin’ good,” he murmured, brushing her damp hair away from her face. “Letting me have you like that. You’re so strong, y’know that?”
She nuzzled into his chest, her voice muffled. “I trust you.”
His heart clenched at that—how easily she gave herself to him, how much she believed in him even when he didn’t always believe in himself. He held her tighter, pressing another kiss to her forehead.
“I adore you,” he whispered against her skin. “You’re everything to me, Rosie. My girl. My fuckin’ heart.”
A warm silence settled over them, her fingers idly tracing lines on his bare chest while his hands continued their slow, calming movements. He whispered more praise—soft, sweet things meant only for her. That she was beautiful, brave, perfect. That she made him feel like more than just a man—like someone worth loving.
And even as sleep pulled at her, Rosie felt completely and utterly safe, wrapped in his warmth, his love, and the quiet devotion in every touch.
Katsuki woke with a slow, deep breath, the room dim in the cool hush of evening. The fading sunlight had long since disappeared, replaced by the quiet dark draped over their bedroom. His arms were still around Rosie, her bare back pressed to his chest, her breathing steady and soft against him.
He shifted gently, careful not to wake her as he placed a lingering kiss to her forehead. She murmured in her sleep, a quiet sound of protest that made him smile faintly before he eased himself out of bed. Padding barefoot across the floor, he tugged on a pair of sweatpants and headed for the kitchen.
The apartment was quiet, still heavy with the warmth of the afternoon. He moved with practiced ease—frying up eggs, toasting bread, and slicing up some fruit. He added a bit of seasoning just the way she liked, throwing together something simple but warm and filling. Something comforting.
He had just plated the food when his phone buzzed on the counter. Katsuki didn’t even need to check the caller ID—he knew the ringtone, that familiar weight pressing into his chest before the name even flashed on the screen.
“Hawks,” he muttered, jaw tightening as he snatched the phone up and answered.
“Dynamight, my favorite pro,” came the all-too-casual voice on the other end. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything too important.”
“Tch. What do you want, bird brain?”
“Kyoto. Overnight assignment. Two days max,” Hawks said smoothly. “A villain group’s been sighted coordinating near the train stations. Need sharp eyes and a heavy hitter. You’re it.”
Katsuki exhaled through his nose, already annoyed. “What about Rosie?”
“She’s covered. Shoto volunteered to keep an eye on her. Don’t bite my head off—he offered before I even asked.”
Katsuki scowled, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Fine. I’ll go.”
“Good man. Text you the details. Enjoy dinner while it’s hot, ” Hawks said before hanging up.
Katsuki didn’t reply. He set the phone down a little harder than necessary, took a moment to steel himself, and grabbed both plates. As he walked back toward the bedroom, the tension was still wound up in his shoulders—but it all unraveled the moment he stepped inside.
Rosie was sitting up, arms stretched high above her head, a quiet yawn escaping her lips. Her hair was a soft mess of tangled waves, her cheeks still flushed with sleep. The blanket had slipped a little down her body, and she blinked blearily at him with that sweet, warm gaze that made his chest tighten.
She looked like home.
Katsuki swallowed thickly. Beautiful. Always so goddamn beautiful.
“Hey,” she said sleepily, smiling when she saw him. “Something smells good.”
He crossed the room and handed her a plate, leaning down to kiss her gently before settling beside her. “Made you food,” he murmured. “Eat.”
“Thanks, pomchi,” she replied softly, pressing another kiss to his jaw before digging in.
They ate in comfortable silence for a moment, and then he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Hawks called.”
She paused, a bite halfway to her mouth. “Let me guess. Work?”
“Yeah. I gotta go to Kyoto. Two days. Shoto’s gonna check in on you while I’m gone.”
Rosie pouted, the corners of her mouth drooping in that way that always made him want to kiss it better. “But the new semester’s about to start…”
“I’ll be back before it starts,” he said, brushing her thigh gently with his hand. “But I’m gonna be workin’ more this semester. Club shifts, patrols—tryin’ to stay ahead of the curve.”
She gave a small nod, chewing the inside of her cheek. “Okay. I understand.”
Of course she would. Her father is a pro himself and apparently her mother was as well. He wondered if she felt lonely, if she felt left behind in a sense. He would have to see to asking about that later.
He leaned over and kissed her again, slow and lingering. “I’ll miss you every damn second,” he whispered against her lips. “You know that, right?”
Rosie nodded, smiling softly as she rested her head against his shoulder. “Just come back to me safe, please. I need you.”
“Always.” Katsuki curled his arm around her, pulling her close, anchoring himself in the warmth of her before the world pulled him away again.
Notes:
Happy Birthday to me! Happy Birthday to me! I'm 23 today!
Anyway, as a gift to me to you, I decided to update again today<33 let me know your thoughts and do follow me on Tumblr under the same user<33
Chapter 91: Yikes. Yeah, that looked messy.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The new year had finally arrived, and with it, the start of a new semester. To say Rosie was excited would have been a massive understatement—she was practically buzzing .
She had spent the past week gathering everything she needed for her classes: notebooks, highlighters, crisp new textbooks still smelling of fresh ink, even a few new pens she absolutely didn’t need but couldn’t resist. There was something about the promise of a clean slate that made her heart race in the best way—a fresh start, full of possibilities.
And it helped to stay busy. With Katsuki splitting his time between his part-time hero work, shifts at the club, and his own class schedule, Rosie had started picking up a few extra hours at work too. It kept her distracted, kept the days moving forward. But it didn’t matter how packed her days were; her heart always found time to linger on him. Always. She missed him when he was gone longer than a few hours, but she understood. They were building their futures—side by side, even when apart.
Tugging her coat tighter against the winter chill, Rosie headed across campus with her bag bouncing against her hip and her breath misting the air in front of her. She couldn’t stop smiling. New classes. New challenges. Another chapter to write in this life she was slowly stitching back together with trembling hands and fierce determination.
When she reached her lecture hall, she paused just inside the door to scan the room. Her face lit up immediately when she spotted a familiar figure— Kanako .
Without hesitation, Rosie made her way toward her and plopped down into the empty seat beside her, tossing Kanako a wide grin.
“Kanako!” she chirped, already pulling out her notebook. “I’m so glad we have this class together!”
Kanako smiled warmly, nudging her shoulder. "Me too. I was hoping I'd see you here."
Rosie was about to launch into some excited ramble about the course syllabus when movement near the door caught her attention.
Her heart gave a little jolt.
Walking in late, clutching her bag nervously, was Maerya—Katsuki’s ex. She hovered uncertainly near the entrance, scanning for a free seat, and Rosie’s heart twisted. No one was really paying her any attention—but that almost made it worse. She looked so small. So out of place.
Without thinking twice, Rosie waved her hand to catch her attention. “Hey, Maerya!” she called, smiling warmly. “Come sit with us!”
Maerya blinked in surprise before quickly making her way over, her shoulders relaxing a little. As she slid into the seat on Rosie's other side, Rosie turned to Kanako with a bright, open smile.
“Kanako, this is Maerya,” she said warmly, gesturing between them. “Maerya, Kanako. Kanako and I used to work at the same coffee shop a while back, and Maerya—" She hesitated only briefly, "—is Katsuki’s ex. We’re friends now.”
Maerya chuckled softly, a little awkward but genuine, and Kanako gave her a polite nod and smile.
The tension that might have hung awkwardly in the air simply… didn’t.
Rosie wouldn’t allow it. She had come too far— they had come too far—to let old titles or history muddy the kindness she was determined to extend to her.
As she settled back into her chair and started unpacking her materials, Rosie snuck a small, almost imperceptible glance at Maerya. Gratitude flickered fiercely in her chest. Thank you, Rosie thought silently, her heart squeezing. Thank you again for saving my life.
Without Maerya, Rosie knew she might not even be here today. And maybe Maerya would never fully understand how deeply Rosie meant it, but that didn’t matter.
Some debts were too big to ever be repaid in words. All Rosie could do was live well. This year was going to be different. She could feel it—deep in her bones.
When class ended, the chatter of chairs scraping against the floor and laptops and notebooks being shoved into bags filled the lecture hall. Rosie stood, slinging her backpack over her shoulder, and fell in step beside Kanako and Maerya as they filtered out with the rest of the students. The air was brisk as they stepped outside, a crisp bite to the wind that hinted at snow.
The three of them strolled across the campus courtyard, blending easily into the clusters of students making their way to lunch or their next classes. Their conversation drifted naturally from class to casual plans.
“So, what is it that you wanna do?” Maerya asked, glancing sideways at Rosie as they walked. Her dark eyes were curious, but her tone was gentle, like she wasn’t trying to pry—just understand.
Rosie hesitated, staring straight ahead as she answered honestly. “Honestly? I don’t know anymore.”
Kanako’s brow pinched in concern. “Well… you’ve got time to figure it out,” she offered, a small, supportive smile on her lips.
Rosie smiled back, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Once upon a time, her dream had been clear. She wanted to become a pro hero—not to fight villains or patrol city blocks, but to support from behind the lines. Healing. Restoring. Like Recovery Girl. Like her mother.
But that dream had lost its color over time. It had dulled, become distant. She’d chased it because it kept her close to her mother, gave her a sense of purpose… but now, even that connection felt frayed. Her mother was gone, and the ache of that absence lingered in everything.
The path she’d been walking suddenly felt like it belonged to someone else. Someone who hadn’t lost so much. Someone who hadn’t changed.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a spark of excitement from Maerya. “Oh! There’s a new soba place that opened by the train station!”
Kanako perked up. “Seriously? That sounds amazing. I’m starving.”
Maerya looked to Rosie. “What about you? You in?”
Rosie blinked, then nodded quickly, grateful for the distraction. “Soba? That sounds great.”
The three girls made their way off campus and down a side street toward the new soba place. It turned out to be a cozy, low-lit restaurant with minimalist decor and delicious-smelling broth that greeted them the moment they walked in. They tucked into a booth and chatted over steaming bowls of soba, warming their fingers and spirits. The conversation was easy, light—a welcome break from Rosie’s heavier thoughts.
Eventually, their time slipped away, and the clock pushed them to gather their things and head back to campus.
As they strolled back through the plaza, the wind kicked up and tousled their hair. Kanako stopped at the corner near her building and waved them off with a cheerful, “Don’t fall asleep in lecture!” before heading inside.
That left Rosie and Maerya walking together toward the east side of campus, where the science and language buildings stood.
Maerya was quiet for a moment, and Rosie noticed a shift in her posture—the way she fiddled with the strap of her bag and glanced sideways more than once.
Then Maerya cleared her throat. “Hey… um. Akira. Is she…single?”
Rosie blinked, surprised. “Akira?” She tilted her head, genuinely caught off guard by the question. “Yeah. As far as I know, she is. Why?”
Maerya didn’t answer right away. Her gaze dropped to the sidewalk, and her shoulders hunched slightly, almost like she wanted to vanish into her coat.
Rosie watched, curiosity growing. The usual sharp-tongued, confident Maerya looked… nervous. Shy, even. Her fingers picked at her sleeve like a teenager with a crush, and Rosie couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips.
“You should talk to her,” Rosie said gently, nudging her with her elbow. “She’s really sweet.”
Maerya looked up with a flicker of embarrassment. “You think so?”
“I know so.” Rosie’s voice softened even more. “We have been best friends since we were young.”
Maerya’s expression shifted—something warm and thoughtful there. They stopped at the steps of the language building.
“Well…” Maerya adjusted her bag, her usual confidence creeping back in. “Guess I’ll try to talk to her sometime.”
“Do it,” Rosie said with a grin. “I’ll even put in a good word.”
Maerya gave a dramatic eye-roll, though her blush betrayed her. “Don’t you dare.”
They exchanged goodbyes, heading off in opposite directions for their next class, and as Rosie walked up the steps to her own lecture, her thoughts trailed behind her.
Should she say something to Akira? Maybe just plant the idea, give her a nudge. It wouldn’t hurt. But then she remembered Akira’s already budding relationship with Monoma and then winced.
Yikes. Yeah, that looked messy.
“Katsuki—!” Rosie squealed, breathless laughter slipping past her lips as his mouth trailed hot, open kisses down her neck. His teeth grazed her pulse point, sending a shiver down her spine, and she clutched the front of his jacket with trembling fingers. “We’re going to get caught,” she whimpered, trying to sound stern but failing as her voice trembled under his touch.
“Let them,” Katsuki muttered into her skin, his voice low and possessive, lips brushing over the sensitive hollow of her throat before pulling back just enough to look at her. His crimson eyes burned with mischief and heat, the kind that always made her knees weak. “I haven’t seen you in the last two days.”
She had backed up against one of the desks in the unused lecture hall, the door barely shut behind them. The space was dim and quiet except for the frantic beat of her heart and the occasional click of her back hitting the edge of the desk as he leaned into her. His hands gripped her hips, holding her in place as though she’d float away if he didn’t anchor her there.
“Stop it,” she murmured, cheeks flushed, “you’re gonna make me late to my last class.”
“You’ll survive,” he said, brushing his nose against hers with a lazy grin. “It’s just one class.”
She rolled her eyes, trying not to melt into him again as he leaned down for another kiss, slower this time, coaxing and warm. She almost forgot how to breathe.
“I won’t be able to see you ‘til tonight,” he murmured between kisses. “Got a short assignment after this. Gotta check in with Hawks and finish some recon crap.”
Rosie frowned, even as her fingers slipped up into his hair. “You’re seriously the worst. I’m gonna be late and now you’re vanishing on me?”
He smirked. “You’ll live.”
But just as he moved to kiss her again, the door creaked open with a suspicious squeal.
Katsuki froze with a soft groan. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“Am I interrupting?” came Shoto’s deadpan voice as he peeked his head through the gap, one brow quirked and phone in hand. “Hawks is blowing up my phone. He says if you don’t show up in the next ten minutes, he’s gonna drag you by your hair.”
Katsuki growled, not bothering to look at him. “Get the fuck out, I’m busy.”
“I’ll take a picture right now and send it to Aizawa,” Shoto replied flatly, already angling his phone toward them. “Do you want me to send one with flash or without?”
That finally got Katsuki to pull back, muttering curses under his breath. He pressed one last kiss to Rosie’s lips, this one slower, more lingering, like he didn’t want to stop. “Text me later, alright?”
She nodded, dazed and flushed, barely able to respond. “Yeah…”
“See you tonight, doll,” he added, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand before finally backing away and adjusting his jacket.
Shoto raised a hand in a lazy wave. “Bye, Rosie.”
“B-Bye,” she managed, quickly smoothing her hair and tugging down the hem of her sweater as both boys stepped out into the hallway.
Once they were gone, Rosie groaned softly, pressing her hands to her cheeks to cool them. The last class of the day suddenly felt a lot longer than it should’ve.
They were getting reckless. Surely someone was going to find out about them sooner than later.
Notes:
I apologize for the late update, I had finals last week and then spent the weekend moving out of my dorm and back home<3 but now that I have free time, I will be back to my regular updates<33
Chapter 92: A place he was going to build with her someday.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki leaned back in his chair, chopsticks lazily twirling between his fingers as he stared at Rosie from across the dinner table. After a long first two weeks they were finally able to both sit down and finally have a moment alone with them. The warm glow from the pendant light above them cast soft shadows over her features, making her look even prettier than usual.
“Hey, doll?”
She hummed in response, swallowing a bite of food before looking up at him. “Yes, darling?”
He tilted his head slightly, watching her with quiet curiosity. “What was your dream growing up?”
Rosie blinked, setting down her chopsticks as she tapped her chin thoughtfully. “That’s hard. I had so many dreams growing up.”
He chuckled, not the least bit surprised. “Oh yeah?” Of course she did. It was obvious to anyone that Rosie was a dreamer. He had known that from the moment he met her. She was the type to chase after things with everything she had, the type to hold onto hope even when the odds were stacked against her.
“One of my dreams was to be a pro hero and fight villains alongside my dad but you knew that one already,” she said with a soft smile, her eyes flickering with fond memories. “Another dream of mine was to travel the world with Akira. We always talked about all the places we wanted to see, all the adventures we’d go on.”
Katsuki smirked. “You still got time for that, y’know.”
“I know,” she giggled. “And I plan on making it happen one day.”
He watched her for a moment, waiting until the laughter faded and her expression turned more contemplative. “What’s a dream of yours that stuck?”
Her face slowly grew pink, her fingers toying with the edge of her sleeve as if she were debating whether or not to answer. Finally, she took a deep breath and looked up at him, her eyes bright and shimmering.
“To fall in love,” she admitted softly.
Something in Katsuki’s chest tightened.
“To have three kids—two boys and a girl,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper, like she was afraid saying it too loudly would make it disappear. “To have a dog and a cat. To have family dinners where we sit together every night and talk about our day.”
The way she said it, like it was something she had held onto for years, something that had never faded despite everything she’d been through, made his throat go dry.
She wasn’t just talking about a dream. She was talking about a future.
And fuck if he didn’t want to be in that future with her.
His grip on his chopsticks tightened as he cleared his throat. “Sounds nice,” he muttered, trying to play it cool despite the warmth creeping up his neck.
Rosie beamed, practically glowing. “I think so too.”
A thought struck him then, and he found himself asking before he could stop himself, “What did you want in a guy?”
Her blush deepened, her hands clasping together as she squirmed slightly in her seat. “I—um.” She peeked up at him shyly. “I wanted someone who would build a home with me. Someone who would hold my hand through everything. I didn’t want just any love. I wanted…” She took a deep breath, exhaling softly before finishing, “I wanted an all-consuming, unconditional, and devoted love.”
Katsuki felt his heart lurch in his chest.
Because fuck.
That’s exactly how he felt about her.
“Oh and the house was perfect,” she smiled.
“Oh yeah?” Katsuki muttered, but his eyes softened a little, lingering on the way her lips curved when she smiled, on the way her lashes fluttered as she spoke. Her hair was still slightly tangled from sleep, spilling in a wild, silken cascade down her back, and her nightgown caught the light like it was spun from moonlight.
She was radiant in a way she never seemed to realize. And gods, did it make his chest ache.
Katsuki glanced at her, chewing slowly. He didn’t answer right away. He always took his time with thoughts like that—when it came to her, he never gave half-formed answers.
Rosie smiled, and her voice grew wistful, like she was brushing her fingers along the edge of a dream. “Nothing huge, just… somewhere quiet. Maybe outside the city. Something with big windows and ivy climbing up the walls. I want a sunroom. With glass panes from ceiling to floor. One that fills with light in the morning so I can sit there and read, or paint. I want to fill it with plants. So many that you can barely see the walls anymore.”
Katsuki watched her closely now, his food forgotten. Every word she said etched itself into his mind with painful clarity.
“And a garden,” she continued, her eyes glowing now. “A real one. With herbs and vegetables and flowers. Not the fancy kind, just a little messy and full of life. I want to be able to walk out barefoot.”
“You’ll probably try to grow lavender and end up with a field of it,” Katsuki muttered, a smirk tugging at his lips.
Rosie laughed, nudging him with her knee. “And I’ll make you carry armfuls of it inside. We’ll hang them to dry in the kitchen.”
He looked away, jaw tight—but not in anger. It was the kind of tightness that came with feeling too much all at once. Her dream was simple. Warm. Full of things that were real. And he would give it to her. Even if he had to tear apart the entire world to make it hers.
She noticed his silence and tilted her head. “What about you? What’s your dream house look like?”
He snorted. “Don’t care about the house. Just need you in it.”
Rosie blinked, surprised by the sincerity in his voice, and her smile melted into something softer. She reached over and laced her fingers with his, squeezing gently.
Katsuki swallowed hard, his free hand tightening around the fork. Every detail she shared—the sunroom, the garden, the smell of drying herbs, the windows glowing with dawn light—it carved a place into his memory. Like a map. A promise.
A place he was going to build with her someday.
After a moment, he cleared his throat and glanced at her, not quite meeting her gaze. “You know I’m gonna remember all that, right? Every damn thing. I’m not gonna forget.”
Rosie blinked again, surprised by the quiet intensity in his voice. Her smile returned, slow and radiant. “Good,” she said, leaning in to kiss his cheek, just below the eye. “Because I meant every word.”
He turned to look at her, the plates now forgotten between them.
And just as she leaned in again, his phone buzzed on the table.
Katsuki’s entire expression shifted, his jaw tensing as he reached for it. One glance at the caller ID made his mouth pull into a grim line. Hawks.
He already knew what this was.
“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, then answered with a gruff, “What?”
The conversation was short. Quiet. But Rosie could read the tension in his shoulders, the clipped way he said “yeah” and “fine.” By the time he hung up, the fire in his expression had dimmed into something colder. Controlled.
She waited. “You have to go.”
“Emergency mission with Deku. Two days,” Katsuki said with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Some shit going down with a rogue group.”
Her face fell, just a little. “And who will watch me?”
“Shoto’s gonna keep an eye on you while I’m gone,” he muttered.
Rosie pouted softly, standing from her chair and coming to sit in his lap her hands on his shoulders. “Should I expect you going on surprise missions?”
He nodded. “Yeah. More field work. More assignments.”
She didn’t argue. Just leaned her head on his shoulder. He glanced down at her again—the nightgown loose against her frame, her hair a mess of wild curls, her lashes casting shadows on her cheeks—and his throat tightened. “You know I’d stay if I could, right?”
“I know,” she whispered. “Just promise to always come back safe.”
“I always will. For you.”
He kissed her temple, then wrapped an arm around her, holding her close, as if memorizing the feel of her against him. Her dream still echoed in his mind like a vow.
A garden. A sunroom. Lavender hanging in the kitchen. He would build it. Every inch of it.
Just for her.
The cabaret was alive tonight.
Red velvet curtains framed the wide stage, drawing back beneath the soft gold glow of antique spotlights. The air thrummed with anticipation—low conversation, clinking glasses, the rich scent of wine and smoke and perfume mixing with something electric, something raw. Tables were clustered close, drawing the audience into the heart of the performance, every seat filled, every gaze drawn toward the platform where the main act was about to begin.
The lights dimmed. A beat dropped like a thunderclap.
And the Infernos lit the stage on fire.
Katsuki was a storm at the center of it all, shirtless, sweat already slicking his shoulders and chest as he hammered the drums like he was trying to break them. His hair was a tousled crown of wild blond spikes, damp at the roots, and black eyeliner smeared faintly under his eyes gave him the kind of dangerous edge that had the front rows practically panting. Leather pants clung to his hips, worn and fraying at the seams, and a ripped-up sleeveless band tee hung from his waist like a trophy, tied loosely by one sleeve to his belt loop.
He was pure grunge tonight. Sweat. Noise. Heat.
In front of him, Jirou rocked the mic and lead guitar like she’d been born on stage, cords trailing behind her like veins pumping the rhythm of the night straight into the crowd’s chest. Momo, sharp in a tight black corset with silver trim, commanded the keyboard with a focused grace, her fingers dancing effortlessly over the keys. Kaminari, dressed in a mesh tank and chains, was a blur of motion on bass, syncing perfectly with the darker, moodier riffs laid down by Tokoyami, who stood just slightly apart in a high-collared jacket, his feathers catching hints of crimson light.
Together, they were loud, dirty, alive—the kind of sound that made people throw their heads back and scream like they were being reborn.
Katsuki lived for this. For the music crashing through his bones, for the ache in his arms, for the feeling of his heart syncing with the tempo until he was the beat itself. The crowd moved with them, a sea of swaying bodies, hands in the air, sweat on skin, heat rising in waves off the floor.
But even through the noise—especially through the noise—he felt her.
His eyes flicked to the side in the middle of a brutal crash and his pulse skipped.
She had waited until they were mid-set. Of course she had. She knew exactly what she was doing. There she was. His girlfriend. His Rosie. And she looked like sin in silk and heels.
She stood just behind the curtain, one hand resting lightly on the frame, her body framed by the golden stage lights as if she’d stepped straight out of a fever dream. Her corset was black with deep burgundy lace, cinched to show off every curve, her legs on full display beneath sheer stockings and high heels that made her legs look like art. A garter glinted at her thigh. Her lips were painted deep red, her hair styled with vintage waves that framed her face like something out of a noir film—but it was her eyes, half-lidded and locked onto him, that nearly made him miss his next beat.
He growled under his breath, low and filthy, nearly drowned out by the thunder of the snare. "Fuck."
She smirked when she saw his jaw tighten, her fingers tracing idly down her hip as if to say, yes, baby, this is for you.
Katsuki’s eyes darkened. That was new.
They’d only just discovered it. That soft, sweet part of her that flushed and squirmed when he scolded her in bed. The way her thighs pressed together when he told her she was being a bad girl. The way she shivered when he said he’d spank her.
And now she was testing him. Tempting him.
Mid-show.
Dressed like that.
He slammed into the drums harder, as if the kit could absorb the tension building under his skin. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from snarling out loud, watching her swish her hips ever so slightly, tilting her head as if she could hear his thoughts through the music.
He wanted to drag her backstage and bend her over the nearest vanity.
He wanted to growl against the back of her neck, one hand fisted in her hair, the other landing sharp, controlled smacks across her ass until she whimpered and melted, pliant and breathless, whispering, “I’m sorry, sir, I just wanted to get your attention…”
Oh, she had it.
She had it and everything else, and she knew it.
The chorus of the song hit and Katsuki didn’t miss a beat—but his gaze stayed fixed on her every time the strobes flashed. His hips shifted slightly behind the drum kit, body rocking with the rhythm, but all his energy was wired around her. He could see the other performers prepping in the wings behind her, the burlesque dancers, the cabaret acrobats, but she outshone them all.
Even in a crowd of stars, she was his damn sun.
He locked eyes with her again just as Jirou stepped forward to scream into the mic, her voice splitting the air like lightning: “I’ll burn my name into the sky if that’s what it takes to be yours—Don’t need saving, baby, I’ll be the fire and the war—”
Katsuki’s jaw clenched. His sticks hit the cymbals in time with the rising crescendo, the whole band building into the final crash. The crowd was losing their minds, rising with the music—but his mind was caught between two worlds: the fire on stage, and the slow, molten look in his girlfriend’s eyes.
By the time the final chord rang out, he was sweating like hell. Panting. Chest heaving.
The crowd erupted—cheers, whistles, screams of his name and the band’s name and for the music not to stop. But Katsuki didn’t hear them. He barely saw them.
His eyes were on Rosie as she vanished behind the curtain with a final flick of her hips.
And that was it.
He stood from the drum kit, tossing his sticks into the crowd like an afterthought. The applause swallowed everything else, but his head was buzzing, skin tight with the ache of restraint. He barely noticed Kaminari slapping him on the back or Jirou yelling something into the mic for an encore.
No. His mind was already back there with her.
That outfit. That look. That bratty little smile.
He licked his lips, grabbed a towel to wipe his face, and tossed it aside. He was already heading toward the curtain, shoving past the stagehands with a single thought pounding louder than any drumbeat.
The backstage hallway was dimmer, lit by red-tinted bulbs that cast long shadows across the concrete floor and faded murals from past shows. The buzz of voices, applause, and celebration faded behind him as Katsuki stormed through the space like a man on a mission, eyes scanning until—There.
She was leaning against the wall by the dressing room doors, one heel hooked behind the other, absently sipping from a water bottle like she hadn’t just thrown him into a full-blown, throbbing need on stage.
Her lips curved when she saw him coming.
“You were incredible out there,” she purred, her voice warm and velvety with just enough tease to stoke the flames higher. “So intense. And that eyeliner? God, Katsuki. You looked like you wanted to eat the whole crowd alive.”
He didn’t stop walking. Didn’t slow down. He was on her in a flash—his hand fisting the front of her corset, careful not to damage it but rough enough to make her gasp—and yanked her into the closest room.
The door slammed shut behind them.
It was one of the private dressing rooms. Low-lit. A vanity lit with bulb-lined mirrors. A faint scent of powder and perfume in the air. Katsuki had her backed against the wall in an instant, one arm braced above her head, the other still gripping her waist like he owned it.
“You,” he growled, voice thick and raw from the performance—and now dripping with something darker, hungrier—“think it’s funny to pull that shit while I’m on stage?”
Her smile was teasing now, lips curling upward as she tilted her chin at him, lashes fluttering. “Maybe. You looked reallyhot all worked up like that.”
He pressed into her, hips to hips, chest still damp with sweat, eyes narrowing.
“Brat.”
She bit her bottom lip, a breath catching in her throat—but she didn’t look away. Her voice dropped just enough to betray that tiny tremble of anticipation. “You liked it.”
“Damn right I did,” he snapped, voice almost a groan as he leaned in closer. “Liked it so much, I’m this close—” he held up two fingers near her face, then curled them slowly “—to bending you over this vanity and spanking the smug little grin off your face.”
Her thighs instinctively pressed together. Her breath hitched. Her hands came up to rest on his chest, nails dragging lightly over the sheen of sweat there.
“Katsuki…” she whispered, eyes flickering between his lips and his eyes. “You killed it out there. I couldn’t look at anyone but you.”
“Yeah?” His hand slid down her waist, tracing the line of the garter at her thigh, fingers brushing the soft band with maddening precision. “Bet you were soaking wet watching me play. You know how hard it was to keep drumming when I saw you in this?” He flicked the edge of her corset. “All dolled up like a fucking wet dream?”
She flushed, visibly. Her lips parted like she was going to say something coy—but all that came out was a soft, shaky breath.
Katsuki leaned in and kissed her hard. No preamble. Just teeth and lips and heat, his hand sliding to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. She melted into him, kissing him back with just as much fire, her body pressing closer until she was molded to him.
He broke the kiss just long enough to murmur against her lips, voice low and dangerous: “Tell me you did it on purpose.”
She smiled, dazed and breathless, but oh-so-sly. “I did it on purpose.”
That was all it took.
Katsuki spun her around, pressing her chest gently to the vanity as he crowded behind her, one hand pressing between her shoulder blades, keeping her steady. In the mirror, she could see him—flushed, wild-eyed, eyeliner smudged and perfect, his lips swollen from kissing her, pupils blown wide.
“You’ve been asking for this,” he growled, and there was nothing but hunger in the way he looked at her reflection. “You gonna behave, doll? Or do I need to make a lesson out of you first?”
She shivered visibly and whispered, “I’ll be good.”
“Too late for that.”
He reached back, dragging his hand down to cup her ass, squeezing through the silky fabric. She gasped when he gave her a sharp little smack—just enough to sting.
And her reflection?
Blushed scarlet.
He smirked at that. She really did like it.
“Ten,” he said, dragging his mouth along the curve of her shoulder. “You get ten. And then I’m gonna kiss you until you forget your damn name.”
And behind them, the muffled sound of the cabaret carried on. Music. Laughter. Applause.
But in this room?
It was just them.
Heat. Hands. Breathless tension. The aching, burning need to devour the one person who could drive him mad and make him fall harder with every teasing glance.
And he loved every second of it.
“Count for me.”
Katsuki spotted her before he even stepped fully into the library.
There she was—tucked away at one of the quieter corner tables, hunched over a spread of textbooks and notes, her brow furrowed in concentration as she scribbled something down. Shoto sat across from her, calm as ever, flipping through a textbook while occasionally tapping something out on his laptop. Their conversation was quiet, low murmurs exchanged between moments of thoughtful silence.
Katsuki exhaled slowly through his nose.
Fuck, he missed her.
Calls helped. Texts were fine. But none of that was ever going to be enough—not for him. He needed to see her. Hear her voice without a screen between them. Touch her hand, kiss her mouth, know she was okay, right in front of him. Every time he was away on assignment, that weight sank deeper in his gut—that gnawing feeling that he was leaving behind something precious. Something he wasn’t sure he ever deserved in the first place.
But seeing her here now, safe, studying, laughing softly at something Shoto said—it eased that guilt, just a little.
He hated being away from her. Hated that part of the job more than anything. But knowing she wasn’t alone—that she was with people who gave a damn, even if one of them was the icey hot bastard himself—helped. Shoto was a pain in his ass, sure, but Katsuki trusted him. And that trust made things easier to swallow. She wasn’t waiting for him in silence, curled up lonely somewhere in the dark. She was still living. Growing. Making friends. Letting herself be happy.
And if some of that happiness came from the half-and-half bastard, then fine. He could live with that. Barely. But he could.
Especially if it meant she was smiling when he came back.
Katsuki shifted the iced coffee in his hand—just the way she liked it, with that ridiculous splash of hazelnut syrup and oat milk. He’d picked it up on the way after bolting from the dorms, still toweling his hair dry after the fastest post-mission shower he’d ever taken. He hadn’t even unpacked yet. His only goal was this. Seeing her.
He crossed the room slowly, quietly, and even though it wasn’t his usual dramatic entrance, her head lifted the moment he got close.
Her eyes widened. A rush of light lit up her whole face, and that radiant smile bloomed so fast it nearly knocked the wind out of him.
“Katsuki!”
“Hey,” he muttered, trying to sound cool even though his heart was doing cartwheels in his chest. “Miss me or what?”
She was already standing, notes forgotten, nearly bouncing as she launched herself into his arms. He caught her easily, the iced coffee shifting in one hand while the other wrapped around her waist and pulled her in tight.
“You’re back!” she said into his shoulder, warm and breathless, squeezing him like she never wanted to let go.
“Damn right I’m back.” He dipped his head and pressed a soft kiss to her temple, then leaned in and brushed another against her mouth. Just a quick one—soft and greedy and full of everything he hadn’t been able to say through a screen. “Brought this,” he added, holding up the drink in offering.
Her gasp was dramatic and adorable. “You remembered my order?”
He scoffed. “’Course I did. Not like I forgot your voice going ‘extra hazelnut, please’ every time you order.”
She laughed, eyes bright. “I’m so happy you’re home.”
And for a moment—just one long, perfect beat—Katsuki forgot every second of how heavy the world felt when he wasn’t near her. The weight of his job. The guilt. The worry. It all melted into the warmth of her arms, the press of her smile against his jaw, and the way her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt like she wanted to keep him there.
“I missed you like hell,” he murmured against her hair, quietly, like it wasn’t something he said out loud often. But he meant it.
She pulled back, just enough to look at him, and there was something soft and knowing in her gaze. “You looked for me the second you got back, didn’t you?”
He glanced to the side, to where Shoto had quietly excused himself with a vague, polite nod, already walking away with his laptop.
Katsuki smirked and leaned in again, voice low, only for her ears.
“Damn right I did.”
And if his grip tightened a little as she laughed and kissed him again?
No one could blame him.
“Are you done with your homework?”
“Just about,” she smiled, “but I can finish it later. I missed you.”
“Well, I actually have something planned for us.”
“Which is…?”
“Just gonna have to see.”
The world had never seemed so quiet, so still, as Katsuki lay on his back, staring up at the endless stretch of night above them. The city lights were far behind them now, left in the distance where they could no longer drown out the stars. Out here, in the grassy clearing on the outskirts of Tokyo, the sky was vast and infinite, the stars burning like tiny embers scattered across the midnight blue.
But he wasn’t looking at the stars.
No.
He was looking at her.
Rosie lay beside him, eyes wide with wonder as she gazed up at the sky. The moonlight kissed every inch of her, turning the soft pink of her hair silver, making her pale skin glow as if she had been sculpted from light itself. The dark sky stretched behind her, deep and endless, yet somehow, she shone even brighter.
Gorgeous. Ethereal. A saint cast in moonlight.
She turned to him then, her lips parting in a slow, breathtaking smile that sent something sharp and desperate through his chest.
“Oh, Katsuki,” she whispered, her voice dripping with awe and unfiltered joy. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
Their date he had planned for them was a picnic dinner and stargazing, something she had wanted to do but due to their conflicting schedules. They hadn’t gotten around to doing it until now.
He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. Fuck. How could she look so beautiful in the dark? How could someone shine like the stars themselves, like she had plucked stardust from the heavens and woven it into her very being?
He forced himself to smirk, masking the way his pulse was hammering in his throat. “Tch, figured you’d like it.”
“I love it.” She exhaled softly, rolling onto her side to face him, propping her head up with her arm. “You know, one day, when you’re the number one hero, I hope we can still do things like this.”
His breath hitched. When he was the number one hero. Not if. “You really think I’ll make it?” His voice was quieter than he meant for it to be.
She blinked at him, then let out a soft laugh, like the idea of him not making it was absurd. “Of course I do.”
His lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the certainty in her voice, by the unwavering faith in her gaze.
“I know you, Katsuki.” Her fingers brushed against the back of his hand, delicate yet steady. “You don’t just want to be number one. You will be number one. Because you fight for it, because you give everything you have to it. And that’s why I want to be by your side when it happens.”
Something deep in his chest ached, something raw and vulnerable that he rarely ever let surface. She made it sound so easy, like it was already written in the stars that he’d be number one, like she had seen the future and there was no room for doubt.
He had no words for that. No way to express the way it made him feel. So instead, he reached for her.
Their lips met in a slow, deliberate kiss, the kind that burned, the kind that made the whole world fall away until it was just them and the night sky above. He kissed her like he needed to, like he had been starving for it, pouring everything he couldn’t say into the way he moved against her.
In one fluid motion, he rolled them over, until she was on top of him, straddling him. He pulled away just to adjust, causing her to sit up, staring down at him, but before he could kiss her again, he stopped—stopped breathing, stopped thinking—because fuck.
The moon and stars stretched behind her, a halo of light wrapped around her, twinkling in the dark blue sky. The wind carried through the field, stirring the strands of silver-tinted hair that framed her face. Her lips were kiss-swollen, her blue eyes shimmering like the very stardust they reflected.
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
She had always been mistaken for the sun, always described as warm and bright, as something golden and dazzling. But here, in the cover of night, she was something else entirely.
She is the moon. The stars. The quiet, endless night.
If he had ever known a goddess, it was her.
If he had lived another life, he knew—he just knew—that she would have been his saint, and he would have been her blade. He would have vowed himself to her, sworn his devotion in fire and blood, let his hands burn if only to serve her. He would have torn the world apart, burned kingdoms to the ground, just to see her shine like this. And in turn, she would have been his salvation, his sanctuary, the only place he would ever belong.
His breath came out ragged as he cupped her face, his thumb tracing the softness of her cheek. “Fuck,” he whispered, barely able to form words. “You—” He swallowed, shaking his head as if that would somehow clear the wreckage she was making of his heart. “You don’t even know, do you?”
She blinked up at him, her lips parting. “Know what?”
His grip tightened, like he was afraid she’d slip away. “How fucking beautiful you are.”
Her breath hitched, and he swore he could see it—the way her heart stuttered at his words, the way she tried to process the intensity in his gaze.
He leaned in, his lips brushing over hers in the softest, most reverent kiss. “You look like you were bathed in moonlight,” he murmured against her lips, his voice rough, worshipful. “Like the stars themselves live in your eyes.”
She exhaled a shaky breath, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. “Katsuki…”
“You were made for the night,” he whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to her jaw, then her cheek, then just beneath her ear. “And if I was born in another life, I swear—I would have been your knight. Your blade. I would have been whatever you wanted, whatever you needed.”
Her fingers trembled against his scalp, and she let out the softest, most breathless whisper, “You’re already everything I need.”
Katsuki’s heart nearly fucking shattered.
With a deep, desperate growl, he kissed her again, gripping her waist and pulling her down flush against him. He didn’t care that they were still outside, didn’t care that they were lying in a field beneath the stars.
All he cared about was her.
All he would ever care about was her.
His very being started and ended with her.
How could someone so small and adorable talk so damn much?
Katsuki wasn’t even annoyed—he’d long since given up pretending to be irritated when Rosie slipped into one of her passionate, energetic rambles. She was pacing now, arms animated, voice bright and melodic as she spoke about something—something to do with one of her classes, or a show she’d been watching, or maybe it was that new tea she’d made him try last night. He wasn’t sure. Because he hadn’t processed a single word she’d said in the last five minutes.
No, he was too focused on her mouth.
Those perfect, plump, pink lips moved nonstop, shaping words with breathless excitement, curling upward every time she giggled or stumbled over her own thoughts. They glistened with her favorite sparkly strawberry gloss—the one he knew all too well. The one that always lingered on his tongue long after he’d kissed it off her.
It was the most distracting thing in the goddamn world.
His fingers flexed where his hand rested on his thigh. Every other second she flicked her gaze toward him, only to continue on like he wasn’t two seconds away from losing his self-control. She had no idea what she was doing to him. Or maybe she did. Maybe she was doing it on purpose.
Her mouth was still moving, her words still fluttering in the air like music—but he wasn’t hearing them anymore. All he saw was her lips. All he could think about was the taste of them.
“—and then I told him that if the formula was wrong, then it had to be the—”
He stood so fast she stumbled back a step, blinking up at him with wide eyes just as he cupped her face in both hands and crushed his mouth against hers.
The kiss was immediate—hot, hungry, and overwhelming.
Rosie made a soft, startled sound, barely able to react before he was kissing her like he needed it to survive. Like it was the only way he could get her to shut up long enough to catch his breath. His hands slid into her hair, tilting her head just right as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping across her lips, claiming every inch of her mouth with demanding, obsessive urgency.
Her fingers clutched at his shirt, breath stolen, thoughts shattered. He swallowed every sound she tried to make, devouring her like a man starved.
And just when her knees started to weaken and her body melted against him, he pulled back—slowly, deliberately.
His thumb dragged across her bottom lip, smearing the sparkly gloss as he leaned back with a smug, lazy grin tugging at his mouth. “Go on,” he said, voice low, rough. “Finish your little ramble, sweetheart.”
She blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Mouth parted, lips red and kiss-swollen, her eyes wide and dazed like someone had just unplugged her brain. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Nothing came out. Just a soft little squeak, maybe.
He snorted, smug satisfaction rolling off him in waves. “Thought so.”
Rosie just stood there, cheeks flushed and mouth still parted, completely and utterly stunned.
God, he loved making her speechless.
Notes:
I know I’ve been gone for a while but now that I’m home and settled back in, I can get back into my routine and begin writing again. Anyway, we’re about to have some major time skips in the upcoming chapters so beware🤭 and yes the stargazing scene is actually and the other version of Katsuki looking at her…do with that information if you will.
Chapter 93: You may think you escaped death. But just know that I’ll always watch you, sweet girl.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Stepping out of the lecture hall, Rosie squinted against the sudden glare of the afternoon sun. The warmth on her face was a stark contrast to the cold hall they’d just spent the last two hours in, listening to their professor drone on in monotone about ancient historical frameworks. Her joints cracked slightly as she stretched, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder.
Beside her, Kanako groaned dramatically. “If he says ‘colonial perspective’ one more time, I might actually launch myself into the sun.”
Rosie laughed. “I think he said it at least twenty-seven times. I counted after the first hour.”
Kanako sighed. “I should’ve dropped that class when I had the chance. We deserve something for surviving that. Drinks after tomorrow’s exam? We’ll have earned it.”
Rosie smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as they walked along the campus path. “That actually sounds like fun. I’m down.”
Maerya, adjusting her satchel, gave them both an apologetic smile. “Just text me the details. I have to run—I promised my sister I’d help her with her chem lab. See you guys later!”
They waved as Maerya turned off down a different path. Rosie and Kanako continued together, falling into a comfortable pace as they headed toward Ishlamare Café, where Kanako had a shift starting soon. Rosie wasn’t just tagging along—Shoto was supposed to meet her there. He’d said something about watching her for a bit, a job he picked up whenever he had a lull in patrols or assignments. She didn’t mind. In fact, she liked the quiet steadiness of it. He was kind and kept her company, and she liked the way he made her feel seen without needing to perform.
Ishlamare’s warm brick and deep blue exterior came into view as they rounded the street corner. The windows glowed with late-afternoon sunlight, casting soft golden light across the tables inside. Kanako gave Rosie a quick wave and slipped in through the side entrance reserved for staff, disappearing toward the back.
Rosie entered through the front, immediately catching the comforting scent of coffee and something sweet baking in the back. Her eyes scanned the café, landing on Shinso behind the counter. He stood with that ever-relaxed posture of his, arms crossed loosely, lavender eyes half-lidded as he wiped down the countertop.
She stepped up and offered a small smile. “Hey, Shinso. Can I get a venti iced coffee with brown sugar blonde espresso?”
He arched a brow, setting down the cloth. “Coming right up.” As he began working on her drink, she tilted her head curiously.
“I always wondered…” she said thoughtfully, watching the swirl of milk and tea. “You were at the Hero Course, right? Why aren’t you a pro hero?”
He didn’t look up right away, his hands moving with practiced ease. “I am a pro.”
Her brow furrowed. “Then why are you working here?”
Before he could answer, a voice chimed in from the side.
“Rosie?”
She turned, blinking in surprise as she came face to face with a familiar customer. Riku, a sharp-dressed man with a kind face and warm brown eyes, stood holding a briefcase. He looked stunned, then smiled.
“It is you,” he said. “I thought you disappeared on me! You used to make the best espresso shots—where’ve you been hiding?”
“Oh,” Rosie said, suddenly shy. “I, um, got into school. Full time. Trying to be a real adult, I guess.”
“That’s awesome. Seriously—good for you,” he said, folding his arms with a grin. “How’s everything been? Life treating you well?”
Before she could fumble her way through a reply, Shinso stepped in with perfect timing, setting her drink down on the counter between them. “Her ride’s here,” he said, his tone easy but firm as he nodded toward the entrance.
Rosie followed his gaze—and felt her breath hitch just slightly.
Shoto stood in the doorway, framed by sunlight, his expression unreadable but unmistakably fixed on her. Hands in his coat pockets, collar up, his mismatched eyes meeting hers with that still intensity before they dragged slowly to Riku, his eyes narrowing the tattoo underneath his eye.
“Oh,” she said, turning back to Riku with a small smile as the lie slipped off her tongue easy. “That’s… my boyfriend . I should go.”
“Of course,” Riku said, stepping back, friendly as ever. “It was great seeing you, Rosie.”
“Yeah, you too,” she offered, though her voice was quieter now.
As she walked away, drink in hand, the dread settled in her stomach like a stone—she wasn’t sure why. Riku had always been kind. Polite. But something about that exchange felt...off. Their last couple of exchanges had been off and weird. Like something unspoken hovered just behind his words. Still, all of that fell away as soon as she reached Shoto. The look he gave her made her feel anchored again. Steady.
She smiled up at him, just a little nervously. “You didn’t have to come inside.”
“I wanted to,” he said simply, taking the drink from her hand so she could shrug off her bag. “You look tired.”
“Long class,” she murmured.
“You’re still beautiful.”
She flushed and ducked her head, a soft laugh slipping past her lips as Shoto reached for her hand. His fingers were cool, steady, a quiet anchor after the strange moment with Riku.
“Katsuki might punch you if he heard that,” she said teasingly.
“He can try,” Shoto replied without missing a beat, the faintest smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. His tone was calm, but there was a glint in his eyes—a rare touch of mischief.
Rosie smiled despite herself, her chest tightening a little with warmth. She was grateful for him. He wasn’t just the quiet, brooding top-of-his-class pro hero everyone saw on the outside. He had a softness, a silent steadiness that always seemed to find her when she needed it most. While Katsuki burned like wildfire, Shoto was snowfall—quiet, unwavering, protective. And she trusted him, more than she had expected to when they first met.
He drove her back to her apartment in his nice sports car, music low on the radio as city streets passed by in a blur of golden light. She sipped her iced coffee and talked about nothing in particular—her exam prep, Kanako’s jokes, the sunset. Shoto listened, humming every now and then, one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely in his lap. She always liked his driving. Calm. Focused. Like he could handle any storm without blinking.
As they pulled into the lot of her apartment complex, he rode up with her and immediately after stepping off the elevator, she frowned. There was something on her doorstep.
A box. Plain, medium-sized. No markings, no tape bearing any familiar delivery service logos.
Her brows furrowed, her gut tensing. “That’s weird,” she muttered. “All my packages get dropped off at the front desk. I haven’t had anything come directly to the door since I moved in.”
Shoto followed her, his gaze sharp and watchful as she picked up the box and turned it in her hands. It felt strangely light. She didn’t hear the soft jostle of bubble wrap or packaging peanuts—just a faint, wet thud. Her stomach twisted, the unease growing.
“Let’s go inside,” he said gently, already scanning the area like a precaution.
Once inside, Rosie placed the box carefully on the kitchen table. The room was quiet, save for the faint ticking of the clock and the soft whir of the fridge. She hesitated. Then, with a deep breath, she pulled open the flaps.
The moment she saw it, her breath caught in her throat.
Inside the box was a white dog plushie—beheaded. Stuffing torn out, its head completely removed and tossed beside the body. But worse than that—lining the bottom of the box was something wet. Sticky. Red. The thick, metallic smell of blood hit her a second later.
She screamed. A sharp, guttural sound of panic and horror as she stumbled back and collapsed into Shoto’s arms.
“Rosie—Rosie, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he murmured, holding her close as she sobbed into his shirt, her hands clutching tightly at the fabric as if it could ground her. His arms wrapped around her tightly, one hand gently cradling the back of her head, his cheek pressed to her hair.
“I-it’s blood, Shoto,” she gasped between sobs. “Who would send that—why— why? ”
His eyes narrowed, cold and calculating now as he reached into the box and carefully pulled out the small note that had been partially buried beneath the plushie. He unfolded it. The handwriting was erratic. Slanted. Red ink smeared like it had been scrawled in a frenzy.
“You may think you escaped death. But just know that I’ll always watch you, sweet girl. You’re mine just like that whore of a mother of yours had been. Try to run and hide and I’ll kill everyone you hold dear, starting with the dog of yours.”
Shoto’s jaw clenched. He tossed the note back into the box with a cold flick of his fingers, then pulled out his phone. “I’m calling Hawks,” he said, voice steady but hard. “He needs to see this. Now.”
Rosie remained in his arms, trembling. Still unable to look at the box. Still hearing the imagined tearing of plush seams in her head, the dripping sound echoing in her ears.
She wasn’t just scared. She was being hunted. And Shoto, without hesitation, held her tighter—silent, protective, already thinking five steps ahead.
Katsuki, she needed Katsuki…
Rosie had fallen asleep in Shoto’s arms after her tears had finally run dry, her body trembling even in exhaustion as she clung to him. Now she lay on the couch, wrapped in a fleece blanket, her face blotchy and red from hours of crying. Maya and Lady were curled up close on either side of her like silent sentinels, their small chests rising and falling with peaceful breaths. The warmth of their soft fur was the only stillness in the storm that had crashed over her life tonight.
Hawks had already come by, silent but efficient, carefully sealing the blood-soaked box and bagging the plushie and note for DNA testing. He promised to inform Eraserhead and Dynamight once their assignments were finished. Shoto had nodded, his arms folded, jaw tense, thinking not just about Rosie—but Katsuki.
Now, hours later, Shoto sat on the opposite couch, nursing a cup of steaming tea, letting the quiet of the apartment settle around him like a heavy blanket. The shadows outside had grown long. Twilight painted faint gold across Rosie’s sleeping form, softening the remnants of distress on her face. She looked so young like this. So small. She hadn’t deserved this. None of it.
He exhaled slowly, his tea untouched.
Rosie had become a friend—more than that, she felt like a little sister in the way that Eri did. Bright and chaotic, endlessly expressive, but so deeply kind. She wasn’t afraid of him. Had never looked at his scars or his silence with pity. Just warmth. Patience. Curiosity. And maybe that was why he’d found himself pulled toward her so quickly, why he kept showing up, kept watching out for her even when his plate was full. It was easy to protect her. Natural.
But it wasn’t just for her that he was here.
It was because of Katsuki.
He hadn’t seen it himself, but Hawks had told him what happened that day—when Rosie died on that table, body cooling as her soul was ripped from her. How Katsuki had lost it, truly lost it. Screaming. Shaking. Unmoving beside her body for what felt like forever. Hawks said he’d never seen anything like it. Not from Katsuki. Not from anyone.
And now that she was alive again—alive and vulnerable—how could Shoto not protect her in Katsuki’s place?
They were best friends. More than that, really. Katsuki was one of the few people who truly understood him, just as he understood the temper beneath Katsuki’s bark, the loyalty that burned white-hot under every insult and every punch. They’d been forged in the same fire—different flames, but parallel in how they rose from the ashes.
Shoto would guard what mattered to Katsuki with his life.
But the box…
His stomach twisted as he stared at it in his memory. The blood, the mutilated plushie, the frenzied handwriting.
This stalker. This… thing. It wasn’t just dangerous—it was sick. To follow Rosie across oceans, across countries. To find her after she had finally clawed her way into a peaceful life. It wasn’t just about Rosie, was it? This wasn’t random. This was obsession. Control. Revenge.
It reminded Shoto of Touya, in some ways.
His brother had followed his own twisted vision of justice to the bitter end. He’d crossed lines that couldn’t be uncrossed, believing the pain he inflicted was righteous, deserved. And when it was all over—when the fires had cooled and the rubble cleared—Touya had died knowing what he’d done, but never quite sorry. Not in the way Shoto wanted him to be.
Still, he mourned him. Every day.
Because he knew, in his bones, that Touya had been failed. Not just by their father—but by all of them. And now, faced with someone else’s brokenness, twisted into violence—someone else who had decided that Rosie’s life was theirs to take or destroy—Shoto couldn’t help but feel that same helpless fury rise up in him.
He didn’t want to fail anyone again.
Not Katsuki. Not Rosie. Not even himself.
He took a sip of his tea at last, letting the bitter warmth sit on his tongue before swallowing it down. Across from him, Rosie stirred, face twitching as a soft whimper escaped her lips. A nightmare, no doubt. Shoto stood, quiet as a ghost, and walked over to tuck the blanket more firmly around her.
“I won’t let them touch you,” he whispered under his breath, brushing a strand away from her forehead. “Not again.”
And he meant it.
For Rosie. For Katsuki. For the version of Touya that could’ve been saved. For all of them.
“Good morning, Shoto,” Rosie greeted as she approached the university gates, sunlight glinting off her hair. Her voice was light, cheerful—too cheerful. “How did you sleep?”
He studied her face as she came to stand beside him, eyes narrowing slightly as he searched for any cracks in the mask. Any sign of what she had endured just yesterday—the horror of the bloodied box, the sobbing in his arms, the trembling that wouldn’t stop even when she finally fell asleep. But there was nothing now. No trembling lip. No glassy, red-rimmed eyes. No hesitance in her smile.
Just radiating warmth.
He wasn’t surprised. Rosie had always been resilient in ways that unnerved him—able to smile through pain, to make light in dark places. But even so… this fast?
She reminded him of Izuku in that regard, how she was quick to forgive and move on. A rare quality trait that he didn’t have the capacity to understand. Eri was the same way as well. Those three were kind, perhaps too kind for their own good.
“I slept well,” he said quietly, nodding once. “How did you sleep?”
She smiled wider, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Like the dead.”
His lips twitched despite himself. Of course she’d say something like that.
They began walking through the courtyard, weaving through students hurrying to their morning classes. The sky was clear, and the golden hue of early morning wrapped the campus in something soft and peaceful. But it was a false calm, as far as Shoto was concerned.
As Rosie began chatting about her day—something about her economics professor being a dry brick and a group presentation she wasn’t looking forward to—he let her voice wash over him, but his attention remained fixed on her profile. She talked with her hands, gesturing animatedly, her backpack bouncing lightly with each step. Her voice was bright. Her laugh came easy.
And yet.
Was she truly okay?
Or had she just already tucked the trauma somewhere deep, behind lock and key where no one—not even herself—could reach it without effort?
Shoto knew that trick. He’d lived it most of his life. He knew what it meant to pretend you were fine. To perform stability so well that even your own body forgot what fear felt like—until it came back all at once in the middle of the night. He didn’t want that for her.
He kept walking beside her, nodding now and then, keeping pace with her energy. But his mind was distant. Watching. Guarded.
Because someone had sent her a message soaked in blood and madness. Someone still out there. Still watching her. And it was too early to pretend it hadn’t happened.
Still, as they approached the entrance to her hall, Rosie turned to him with another smile, sunlight catching on the gold in her eyes.
“I’ll see you after class?” she asked, hopeful.
He gave her a small smile back. “Of course.”
She grinned and turned to go, disappearing into the building with a bounce in her step.
Shoto stood there for a moment longer, silent. And then, turning away, he made a silent promise to himself.
He would keep watching.
Just in case she couldn’t keep pretending, because everyone had a breaking point and he had a feeling that she was steadily reaching hers.
“Beach trip!” Mina clapped her hands together excitedly, her golden eyes practically sparkling as she bounced in her seat. “It’s finally warm enough for us to go!”
Across the table, Rosie paused mid-bite, her chopsticks hovering in the air as noodles dangled in limbo. She blinked. “But it’s only been, like, a month since the semester started.”
“Exactly,” Mina grinned, undeterred. “Which is why this is the perfect time to go! We haven’t been completely crushed by exams yet, and everyone needs a break before the real stress starts rolling in.”
Rosie chewed thoughtfully, still unconvinced, while Momo, sitting beside her, offered a small nod. “She’s not wrong. A short trip could be nice. We do have that week-long break coming up…”
“I already have a Pinterest board,” Mina said proudly, holding up her phone as if that sealed the deal. “Outfits, food, group selfies we have to recreate. I’ve even been looking at Airbnbs near the coast. Some of them have hot tubs. Hot tubs, ladies.”
Rosie swallowed her bite and leaned her cheek into her hand, lips tugging into a soft smile as she listened to Mina’s impassioned pitch. It was always like this with her—lively, full of energy, the kind of contagious enthusiasm that dragged everyone into her orbit whether they meant to be or not. “Okay, okay,” Rosie laughed lightly, “I’ll admit… hot tubs do sound kind of amazing.”
Uraraka, sitting on Mina’s other side, perked up between sips of her iced tea. “Are we talking private beach access kind of place? Because I am so down for that.”
“You know I’d never settle for anything less,” Mina said dramatically, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “And don’t worry, I already did the responsible thing. I made a list of who’s invited and who’s… not.”
Rosie raised a brow. “You screened people? Our friends?”
“Absolutely,” Mina said. “Do you think I’m going to spend my precious break stuck with someone who takes ten minutes to order at every restaurant? No. I hand-picked the vibe. It’s going to be immaculate. ”
Rosie giggled as she returned to her noodles, her heart warmed by the way the girls could make even a simple lunch feel light and special. This was nice. Eating ramen in a sun-dappled booth with the smell of fried gyoza in the air, Mina’s voice filling the space with excitement while Momo politely offered suggestions and Uraraka chimed in with enthusiasm.
For a moment, the stress of school, of the stalker, of all the unspoken weight she carried… it faded into the background.
“So…” Mina leaned across the table with a mischievous grin, “how do we feel about matching swimsuits?”
Rosie choked on a laugh. “Okay, now I need to see that Pinterest board.”
Notes:
We're so close to chapter 100 and I'm honestly not ready for it, not ready for the bricks I'm going to pelt you with from my balcony😩
Chapter 94: Valentine’s Day
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie hummed softly to herself, swaying a little to the tune playing from her phone speaker as she stood in the middle of her small, warmly lit kitchen. The scent of melted chocolate hung in the air—rich, bittersweet, and comforting—mixing with the faint vanilla and roasted nuts she had scattered across the counter. Her cheeks were lightly smudged with cocoa powder, her sleeves rolled up, and her apron streaked with flour and sugar.
The kitchen was a bit of a controlled disaster zone. Mixing bowls piled in the sink, spatulas and measuring cups strewn across the countertop like tiny soldiers after a battle, and parchment-lined trays filled with glossy, cooling chocolates covered nearly every surface. Rosie barely seemed to notice. Her focus was singular.
She glanced at the saucepan as the dark chocolate ganache reached just the right consistency, glimmering as she stirred it with deliberate care. It had taken her a few tries to perfect the filling: sea salt caramel infused with a hint of vanilla and just enough crushed macadamia nuts to add crunch without overwhelming the texture. She dipped a spoon in, tasted it, and smiled to herself. Perfect.
Why was she going through all this trouble?
Because February 14th was around the corner, and with it, Valentine’s Day—the one she had secretly always dreamed of celebrating properly. Not the American version with grocery store chocolates and cards, but the Japanese tradition. The kind where girls gave handmade chocolate to the boys they liked. And then, if their feelings were returned, they’d receive something back a month later on White Day.
It was mostly a school tradition, sure, but Rosie didn’t care. She had always wanted to experience everything about Japanese culture now that she lived here permanently. All the holidays, all the customs. All the love.
And this year… she is in love. Stupidly, irrevocably, completely in love with Katsuki Bakugou.
Her Katsuki, who didn’t have much of a sweet tooth—not really. So she’d spent weeks researching and testing recipes that would suit his tastes. He liked bold flavors. Strong, clean, unapologetic. That was why she had chosen a dark chocolate shell with a center of sea salt caramel, not too sweet, just the right amount of bitter and rich. The macadamia nuts were his favorite, and she had roasted them herself just the way he liked.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she piped the filling into the glossy chocolate molds she had carefully tempered. Each one was a labor of love, hand-crafted with care and intention. She wanted everything to be perfect. Not just because Katsuki deserved the best—but because it mattered to her. Because he mattered to her.
As she smoothed the final layer of chocolate over the filled molds and tapped the tray to release the air bubbles, she allowed herself to picture his reaction.
Would he blush? Would he look away and grumble something like “Tch, you didn’t have to do all this, dumbass,” before stuffing one into his mouth and realizing he actually liked it? Would he pull her close and mutter something low and gruff like thank you, his voice thick with the emotion he always tried to hide?
Rosie smiled to herself, heart fluttering.
This was more than chocolate. It was a piece of her, wrapped in dark sweetness and salty warmth, molded just for him.
And even if he didn’t say it out loud, even if he just gave her one of those rare soft looks of his that said everything without a word— that would be enough.
Hours passed before Rosie finally finished.
Her last batch of chocolates had cooled and set just right, their glossy sheen unmarred, each one carefully packed into a soft pink and white box tied with a ribbon she’d bought specifically for today. She nestled the little treat box into tissue paper, added a tiny handwritten note—just a heart and his name—and closed the lid with trembling fingers and a pleased sigh.
She placed it carefully on her counter, where it would stay safe until she saw him.
The kitchen was a wreck. Chocolate splatters dotted the stove like a war zone of sweetness, bowls and trays stacked in precarious towers in the sink, and the faint smell of caramel still lingered in the air. But Rosie didn’t mind. She rolled her sleeves up one last time and got to work cleaning—scrubbing every surface until it gleamed, loading the dishwasher, wiping down counters, and opening her balcony to let in the crisp February breeze.
Once everything was clean and tidy, she made her way to the bathroom, turning on the shower and letting the steam billow around her as she undressed. She stepped in, letting the hot water run down her back, soothing her tired arms and washing away the sticky remnants of chocolate and sugar. She closed her eyes, leaning into the spray with a small, content sigh.
He’s going to love them, she thought, warmth blooming in her chest again.
After her shower, she blow-dried her hair into soft waves and pulled on a cute but casual outfit—high-waisted jeans, a fitted black crop top, and a long maroon cardigan that added a pop of color. She dabbed a bit of perfume behind her ears, slipped on silver hoops, and applied a little eyeliner and gloss before grabbing her purse and heading out.
The evening air was cool, but not too cold—just enough to bite at her cheeks and make her walk a little faster. She caught a tram a few blocks from her apartment and texted the girls on the way.
By the time she arrived at Silven’s, the sky was tinged with deep blue, and the neon glow of the bar sign lit up the sidewalk in soft purple and silver. She took the stairs up to the second floor, where the vibe was cozier, quieter, and much more suited to their mood.
“Rosie!” Maerya called, waving her over from a high table near the pool tables. She was already nursing a cocktail, and Kanako stood beside her chalking up a cue stick.
Rosie beamed and crossed the room. “Sorry I’m late! I was finishing a little project.”
Kanako grinned, handing her a drink that sparkled with citrus and ice. “It’s not Valentine’s chocolate, is it?”
Rosie flushed and sipped. “No comment.”
The girls laughed, clinking glasses.
Silven’s second floor was dimly lit with amber lights strung overhead, soft music pulsing in the background. A few couples lingered at nearby booths, and groups of students and locals mingled near the bar. It wasn’t packed—just lively enough.
Maerya leaned over, smirking. “So, are you gonna tell him you made them or play the ‘oh these old chocolates I just happened to have lying around’ card?”
Rosie snorted. “Please. You think I’d go through all that effort and not take credit?”
Kanako laughed. “That’s my girl.”
They played a few rounds of pool, Kanako dominating the table while Maerya talked trash and Rosie tried not to accidentally send the cue ball flying. Drinks flowed, laughter spilled, and for a while, Rosie let herself enjoy the night.
The world outside was complicated. She knew that—there were shadows she wasn’t ready to face just yet. But here, with her girls, under the soft golden glow of Silven’s second floor, everything felt a little lighter. A little safer. Totally not thinking about the blood soaked beheaded dog plushie she received the other day.
To say Rosie was excited was an understatement—it felt like her heart had been beating out a nervous little drumline since the moment she woke up.
Now, with a gift box nestled delicately in her hands, she walked briskly across campus, her breath catching every few steps. She clutched the small box of chocolates to her chest like it was something sacred, something alive. The ribbon shimmered in the sunlight, tied in the neatest bow she could manage without trembling fingers. Inside were her handmade chocolates—dark, rich, with sea salt caramel and macadamia nuts—crafted with more love than she dared to say aloud.
She had dressed carefully that morning, more carefully than she had in weeks. One of the outfits she knew he liked—tight in the places that made him scowl in a way that thrilled her, soft in the ways that made him gentle when he touched her. She wore the perfume he once said smelled like “something dangerous wrapped in sugar,” a scent that lingered long after he’d pressed his face into her neck. Her makeup was soft and radiant, her lips glossed just enough to catch the light if he looked at her closely. If he looked at her closely.
Since the new year started, Katsuki had been all but a ghost. Patrols. Hero assignments. Classes. Paperwork. She understood—of course she did—but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t ache for him. Missed him with a painful, unrelenting sharpness that left her cold at night. They had stolen kisses in empty lecture halls, texted when they could, exchanged brief phone calls that always ended too soon.
But today? Today she was going to see him. For real . Just the two of them.
She had texted him earlier that morning, asking him to meet her under the cherry blossom tree at the edge of campus—their unofficial spot. The one no one really noticed because it was tucked behind the art building where hardly anyone went. Hidden, quiet, perfect.
And as she approached it now, the spring sunlight filtered through the soft pink blossoms, petals fluttering to the grass below like a scene from a dream. She could already feel her throat closing up, not from nerves but from something else—something fuller, something desperate.
She spotted him before he saw her.
Katsuki stood under the blooming tree, his bag slung over one shoulder, head tilted back as he glanced at his phone. He was wearing a black hoodie and jeans, but his hair was slightly tousled from the wind, and the sun hit his skin in a way that made her stomach twist. His jaw clenched briefly—maybe from concentration, maybe frustration—but even that felt familiar. Comforting.
She froze for a breath, her feet unwilling to move as emotion rushed through her chest.
God, I missed you.
Her arms wanted to throw the chocolates away just to run into him. She wanted to wrap herself around him, bury her face in his chest, and let the weeks melt off her skin.
Instead, she forced her feet to move.
He looked up just as she stepped into the dappled shade, and his red eyes locked onto hers. For a heartbeat, neither of them said anything. The tension swelled like a dam about to burst.
“I—I made these for you.” Her voice wobbled as she held out the box. “For Valentine’s day.”
He blinked, gaze dropping to the small gift, then slowly back up to her face. She was smiling, but it was wavering, and her grip on the box looked a little too tight.
“I know you’re not into sweets,” she added quickly, “so I made them dark. With sea salt caramel and macadamia—like that candy bar you snatched from Denki last term.”
He didn’t speak.
Her breath hitched. “I just—I missed you, Katsuki. A lot. And I know you’ve been busy and everything’s crazy, but I wanted to—just—see you. Even if it’s just for a few minutes.”
Her throat burned. Her fingers trembled.
He still hadn’t taken the box.
For a moment, it felt like the world was balancing on a knife’s edge, and if she didn’t do something, anything, it would tip and shatter.
But then he moved.
He stepped forward, fast and fierce, and plucked the box from her hands with one hand—while the other went to the back of her neck, pulling her in so hard and sudden that she gasped.
His lips crashed into hers, hot and hungry and aching.
And Rosie melted.
The box nearly dropped from his fingers, only saved by his quick reflex as he fumbled to hold it to the side. His mouth moved over hers like he was trying to pour every missed moment, every word unsaid, into the kiss. She clung to his hoodie, breathless, dizzy, stunned—and completely, utterly his.
When they finally broke apart, his breath was ragged. “D’you have any fuckin’ idea what you do to me?”
Her eyes were still glassy with emotion, but she smiled against his cheek, brushing the tip of her nose to his jaw as her voice dipped into a playful whisper. “You should tell me.”
He grunted, not in annoyance—but in that low, familiar way that always sent a jolt down her spine. It was his you're lucky I adore you sound. He leaned back just enough to look at her again, his hand still cradling the side of her face, thumb brushing over the curve of her cheek. Then, without warning, he dipped his head and kissed her again—deeper, slower this time. Less desperate, more reverent. Like he was trying to memorize the taste of her mouth all over again.
Rosie was breathless by the time she pulled back, her cheeks warm with laughter. “Okay—okay, you have to try the chocolates now. I spent an entire day making them,” she teased, poking him in the chest lightly. “Don’t make me cry if you hate them.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes, exasperated in that theatrical way that made her grin. “I’d rather spend the rest of my damn day kissing you,” he muttered, but he loosened his arm around her waist and opened the box. The rich scent of dark chocolate hit him first, then the salt and caramel undertone— and macadamia. His mouth twitched.
“Shit,” he mumbled. “You actually remembered.”
Rosie puffed her cheeks. “Of course I remembered. You’re not as mysterious as you think you are, Katsuki Bakugou.”
He shot her a look, but there was warmth there—softened edges to the hard lines of his face. He picked out one of the chocolates and popped it into his mouth.
The second it hit his tongue, his eyes narrowed—like he was trying not to show how good it was. But he failed spectacularly.
“…Damn,” he muttered. “That’s insane.”
She perked up. “You like it?”
He chewed slowly, savoring it. “It’s perfect. Not too sweet, got that bitter kick I like… and the caramel’s not the fake shit either. And the nuts—fuckin’ love the crunch.” He glanced at her, eyes glinting. “You know me too well, pretty girl.”
Her heart fluttered, her whole face warming. “I try.”
He closed the lid and tucked the box carefully into his backpack, like it was something valuable. Something precious. Then, without another word, he wrapped his arms back around her, this time burying his face into her hair, holding her tightly against him.
She melted into his embrace, gripping the back of his hoodie as his breath ghosted against her ear.
“I miss you,” he whispered, the words raw and quiet. “I fuckin’ hate being apart from you like this.”
Rosie’s heart clenched. She tightened her hold on him, her fingers curling in the soft fabric at his back. “I miss you too,” she whispered.
They stood there beneath the cherry blossom tree, petals fluttering like soft snow around them, as if the world had briefly given them this small, sacred moment.
“Are you going on the beach trip?” Rosie asked softly after a quiet moment, tilting her head up to look at him as they stood beneath the shade of the cherry blossom tree, pink petals fluttering around them like confetti.
Katsuki exhaled through his nose, the tension in his shoulders easing now that she was pressed against him. “Yeah. Got a little time off,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. “Just a couple of days, though. I’ll have to leave early—got patrol scheduled for the weekend.”
Rosie’s expression brightened immediately, her smile widening as she pulled back just enough to look up at him properly. “You’re really coming?”
He smirked, flicking a stray blossom from her hair. “Didn’t I just say that?”
“Yeah, but you’ve been so busy lately,” she said, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow as they began walking slowly down the paved path toward the courtyard. “I didn’t think you’d get the time.”
“I wasn’t gonna let you go running around in a swimsuit without me around,” he grumbled, casting her a sidelong look. “You think I trust those idiots to keep their eyes to themselves?”
Rosie laughed, a light and melodic sound that made him glance at her again, the corners of his mouth twitching. “I was gonna wear the one I bought at the spa resort with the girls.”
He stopped walking for a second, brows raising slightly as he pictured it. “Yeah?” he muttered, clearing his throat. “Then I definitely have to go.”
She giggled and tugged on his arm to get him moving again. “I’m excited,” she admitted. “Mina’s been planning it for a couple of days—she found this really cute Airbnb right by the water, and she says there’s a boardwalk with food stands and live music.”
He listened quietly, glancing down at her as she spoke with such energy—her words spilling out in waves, bright and hopeful. It made something in his chest squeeze, seeing her like this. Happy. Excited. After everything, she deserved a week of sunshine and ocean breezes and laughing with her friends.
As they reached her building, he slowed his steps. “Sounds like it’ll be fun,” he said quietly. “You need a break.”
“We both do,” she replied, then gave his hand a squeeze. “I’m glad you’re coming, pomchi.”
He let out a soft grunt, but there was warmth in his eyes as he looked at her. “Yeah. Me too.”
“I’ll see you after class,” she smiled.
“Fuck yes you are,” he smirked.
The hum of the road faded beneath the sound of crashing waves and distant seabirds as Katsuki pulled into the long driveway of the beach house. The sun had just hit the highest point, the sun beaming down on the sprawling coastal home that stood tall against the horizon. White with wide windows and a wraparound balcony, the place looked like it was plucked from a catalog—too perfect, too serene. The salty sea breeze immediately blew in through the crack in the car window, bringing the scent of the ocean with it.
Rosie blinked awake as the engine cut off. “We’re here?” she asked groggily, rubbing at her eyes.
Katsuki glanced at her and smirked. “Yeah, Sleeping Beauty. Finally.”
Groaning, she unbuckled her seatbelt and pushed open the door. “Three hours, Katsuki. I’m surprised my spine didn’t fuse to the seat.” She stepped out and stretched, arms arching above her head, her back curving as she let out a deep, satisfied sigh. The wind caught her hair and her sundress, and she tilted her face toward the sun with a blissful smile.
Katsuki was already pulling their bags out of the trunk, slamming it shut with one hand as he slung a duffel over his shoulder. “You were the one who wanted to bring half your closet,” he grunted, nodding toward the two suitcases by her feet.
“I need options!” she called sweetly over her shoulder, brushing her hair out of her face as she walked toward the front steps.
Laughter and chatter echoed from inside the house—voices they both recognized.
“Oh!” Rosie clapped her hands, her eyes lighting up. “They’re already here!”
Katsuki followed her gaze. Mina’s pink head popped up from the second-story balcony. “Finally! Took you two long enough!” she shouted, waving.
“We stopped once!” Rosie called back, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Katsuki had to pee!”
“I had to get gas, dumbass,” Katsuki muttered as he hauled the bags toward the house.
Mina laughed and disappeared inside, presumably to announce their arrival to the rest of the group.
As they climbed the front steps, Rosie turned to Katsuki with a grin. “It’s so pretty here. And it’s huge!”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Bet it’ll be loud as hell with this crew.”
“Good thing you brought headphones,” she teased, nudging his side.
He grunted, but the corner of his mouth twitched—nearly a smile—as he looked at her, cheeks still flushed from sleep, eyes dancing with excitement.
Rosie spun once on the porch, taking in the sight of the ocean just past the backyard. “It’s perfect,” she said, more to herself than to him.
Katsuki, arms full of bags, watched her quietly for a beat longer before jerking his chin toward the door. “Come on. Before Pinky starts setting up glitter bombs again.”
Rosie laughed, skipping to the door. “Race you inside!”
He rolled his eyes again—but when she threw it open and disappeared into the warmth and noise of their friends’ voices, he followed close behind.
Once inside, Rosie followed the mouthwatering smell of food into the open kitchen where their friends had already begun preparing lunch. Sunlight poured in through the large windows, bouncing off the bright countertops and gleaming appliances as laughter filled the space. Everyone looked relaxed, casual, and ready for a beach day.
“You’ll be sharing a room with Momo,” Mina announced with a wink as she tossed Rosie a cold bottle of sparkling water. “Shoto and Bakugou will be bunking together.”
“Hope you don’t snore,” Shoto said dryly from where he was stacking sliced turkey on sandwich bread.
Katsuki gave him a look that promised violence. “Hope you don’t talk in your sleep.”
“I only talk to people I like,” Shoto replied, deadpan.
The kitchen was buzzing with easy energy—Uraraka and Momo were cutting up fruit, Izuku was spreading condiments with almost clinical precision, and Jirou, Kirishima, and Kaminari were arguing over who had the best sandwich-making technique.
“Mine’s gourmet, bro,” Kaminari said, layering chips between his bread.
“That’s chaos,” Jirou deadpanned, shaking her head.
Rosie chuckled and slipped between them to assemble her own sandwich, stealing a few grapes from the fruit bowl.
Everyone settled around the kitchen island or leaned against the counters, munching and chatting between bites. Mina was already showing off a Pinterest board she had made full of beach photoshoot poses, while Uraraka giggled at each ridiculous suggestion.
After lunch, they scattered to gather their things. Rosie packed a canvas beach bag with her towel, sunscreen, water bottle, and a book, slipping on her wide-brimmed sun hat and sunglasses. The others did the same—loading up with floaties, Bluetooth speakers, snacks, and umbrellas.
Together, they filed out of the house and down the wooden steps that led from the back deck to the soft path that cut through dune grass and led to the beach. Sandaled feet crunched along the way, the scent of salt growing stronger with every step until the beach stretched out before them—blue sky above, endless ocean ahead.
Excited chatter and whooping carried over the sound of waves as the group broke into action. Kirishima, Kaminari, Shoto, and Katsuki immediately dumped their stuff and sprinted into the water, kicking up sand as they ran full tilt toward the crashing surf.
“Last one in buys dinner!” Kirishima shouted.
“Hell no!” Katsuki bellowed, thundering past him into the waves.
Onshore, the girls laughed at the display as they set up their area. Rosie and Momo teamed up to pitch one umbrella, while Mina and Uraraka secured another nearby. They spread out beach blankets, set up towels, and staked their claim before pulling out the sunscreen.
“Alright, backs first!” Mina declared, already rubbing lotion between her palms.
“I call dibs on Rosie,” Uraraka grinned, grabbing the bottle from her. “You’ve got so much skin showing in that cute swimsuit.”
Rosie giggled and sat down, brushing her hair to the side as her friend applied sunscreen with care. “Remind me to return the favor. No one’s getting burned on my watch.”
The air was filled with the sound of crashing waves, shouts from the boys in the water, and the occasional squawk of seagulls overhead. Rosie tilted her head back, soaking in the sunshine and the breeze as warmth bloomed in her chest.
This—this was what happiness felt like.
Notes:
Hope you enjoy the new chapter, next chapter will be super long so buckle up for that<3 also don't forget to follow me on Tumblr and to go check out the first part of this story.
Chapter 95: I swear to you
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie lay sprawled on her pink towel, the fabric warm beneath her from the sun’s steady rays. A half-read book rested in her hands, though her attention was more on the scene in front of her than the printed words. Beside her, a condensation-slicked cup of pink lemonade sat in the sand, the ice slowly melting under the afternoon heat.
She shifted her sunglasses up to perch atop her head, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear as she tilted her head to admire the chaos unfolding in the waves.
The boys were wrestling again.
Katsuki’s muscles flexed under the sun like molten bronze as he surged through the water, catching Kaminari off guard from behind. In one smooth, powerful motion, he wrapped an arm around his waist and lifted him high before slamming him back into the water in a dramatic suplex that made the others shout and laugh.
Rosie sighed dreamily, propping herself up on her elbows as her gaze lingered on him. He looked like something from a summer dream—wild, fierce, and utterly beautiful. Her heart fluttered watching him, and for a moment she forgot the heat, the sand, and everything else except for the boy in the water who somehow always made her feel like she was flying.
Next to her, Uraraka and Mina were giggling and commenting on the show, occasionally yelling encouragement or fake referee calls like, “Ten points for that move, Bakugou!”
Soon enough, the match dissolved into chaos as Shoto splashed water directly in Kaminari’s face and Kirishima tried to tackle both of them at once.
Rosie turned a page in her book, barely registering the words as she smiled to herself—until a sudden shadow fell over her.
She looked up, blinking, only to find Katsuki standing over her, dripping seawater and grinning like a predator. Droplets splattered onto her exposed stomach and legs as he loomed over her, water glistening along his chest and arms.
“Ah! That’s freezing!” she squealed, curling up and shielding herself with her hands. “Katsuki, don’t you dare—!”
“Get up,” he said smugly, water still running down his arms. “You’re coming in.”
“I’m not ,” she sniffed, pulling her towel tighter around herself and turning her head. “I’m very content being your audience, thank you.”
He didn’t give her a second warning.
With a low growl and a smirk, he bent, hooked his arms under her, and lifted her clean off the towel. Rosie shrieked in surprise as the world tilted and she landed with a soft oof over his shoulder.
“Katsuki!” she cried, laughing and smacking at his back. “Put me down! I just got comfortable!”
“I’ll put you down,” he said darkly. “Right into the water.”
True to his word, he charged toward the shoreline like a man on a mission. The girls shouted and laughed behind them as Rosie kicked her legs, still giggling helplessly as she clung to his back.
With a final step into the waves, Katsuki hurled her into the sea. She hit the water with a splash and resurfaced with a gasp, hair plastered to her face, makeup smudged, and completely soaked.
She spun around to glare at him—only to see him laughing, the rare, open sound of it making her heart skip despite her outrage.
Then came more shrieks.
From the shore, the other boys had caught on. Shoto grabbed a protesting Momo and tossed her over his shoulder, while Kirishima swept a flailing Mina into his arms. Kaminari got to Jirou before she could even stand, lifting her with an exaggerated “Wheeeee!” as she kicked and shouted, laughing.
One by one, the girls were carried, kicking and squealing, into the waves and dropped with varying levels of dramatic flair. They spent nearly the entire afternoon in the water, chasing one another through the waves, riding the tide, and laughing until their voices were hoarse. By the time the sun began its slow descent, painting the sky in soft pastels of pink and gold, everyone was wrung out with exhaustion and happiness. Hair tangled with sea salt and bodies slick with sand, they slowly gathered their towels, umbrellas, and bags, beginning the quiet, satisfied walk back up the beach path toward the house.
The group took turns showering once inside—first come, first serve, which led to playful shouting matches and knocks on doors when someone took too long. The house filled with the scent of body wash and sunscreen, the faint hum of music playing from someone’s speaker, and the low murmur of conversation from room to room.
While the guys went out on a supply run to the nearby grocery store, the girls curled up in the spacious living room. The sliding glass doors were open to let in the ocean breeze, and the warm scent of salty air filled the space. Rosie sat cross-legged on the plush couch, a glass of white wine in hand, her damp hair now loosely braided by Uraraka. Mina was sprawled across the floor, sipping white wine straight from the bottle with a giggle as Momo scolded her playfully. They chatted idly, voices low and content as they basked in the post-beach glow.
By the time the boys returned, arms laden with bags, the girls were already tipsy and laughing over something ridiculous Jirou had said. Katsuki rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the fond smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as Rosie rushed to help him unload groceries.
Outside, the grill was fired up in no time. Katsuki, naturally, took over manning the meat with Kirishima and Kaminari backing him up like sous chefs, while Shoto quietly prepped vegetables to roast over the flames. The girls eventually drifted outside, still holding their glasses, and sat at the picnic table or leaned on the porch railing, chatting and stealing bites of grilled mushrooms and bell peppers fresh off the foil.
As dusk deepened into night, they gathered around the firepit in the backyard. Katsuki had built a roaring bonfire while the others set out plates of food—perfectly grilled steaks, buttery mashed potatoes with garlic and chives, and a medley of fire-roasted vegetables. The heat from the fire warmed their faces as they sat in a wide circle on blankets and chairs, plates in laps, laughter and conversation flowing freely.
Rosie sat between Katsuki and Uraraka, knees pulled to her chest, her plate balanced carefully. Her hair was still a little damp, and her cheeks were rosy from the wine. She leaned her head against Katsuki’s shoulder, smiling as she listened to Kaminari talk about a concert he wanted them to all go to in June.
“Alright,” Mina said, raising her glass of rosé dramatically, “we need to talk summer plans. Come on. Who’s doing what?”
Shoto glanced up from his drink. “I will be starting up my own agency.”
“Boring,” Kaminari muttered with a grin, earning a jab from Jirou.
“Rosie and I were thinking of going to Osaka for a weekend,” Momo said, her smile soft.
“I’m dragging Akira to Okinawa,” Rosie added cheerfully
They went around the circle, each friend sharing their hopes and plans. Some were work-related, some vacations, some just goals like “finally learning to cook” or “fixing my broken closet door.” The fire crackled, casting flickering shadows across their faces, and the stars above blinked quietly in the navy sky.
Rosie waited until the laughter and chatter of their friends faded into muffled quiet and the last few couples had disappeared into their rooms. The house was calm now, the night air cool against her skin as she quietly tiptoed to the door and gently cracked it open.
She peeked into the hallway—no sign of anyone. Holding her breath, she crept next door, her heart racing. Just as she reached for the knob, the door swung open from the inside, and she nearly yelped in surprise.
Standing there was Shoto, hair still damp from the shower, bare-chested and wearing only a pair of soft gray lounge pants. His scarred eye blinked at her in surprise before a small, knowing smile curved his lips.
“Shoto,” she whispered, cheeks flaming.
He looked her up and down, amusement twinkling in his mismatched eyes. “Switching with me?” he teased lightly.
She shifted awkwardly, but his tone was kind. “Yeah,” she mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Shoto chuckled softly, stepping past her with the grace of a cat. “We’ll switch back at six,” he murmured, already moving toward Momo’s room.
“Goodnight, Shoto,” she said softly.
“Goodnight, Rosie,” he called back, disappearing into her shared room with momo.
With a deep breath, she entered Katsuki’s room, the scent of his shampoo and soap still lingering in the steamy air. The light from the small lamp on the dresser cast a warm glow across the space, and she noted his duffel bag tossed carelessly on the floor.
She stretched her arms above her head, feeling the tightness from the long day, and wandered toward the sliding glass door that led out onto the small balcony. She stepped outside, the ocean breeze cool and soothing as it ruffled her hair. She leaned on the railing, tilting her head back to gaze at the moon—big and luminous, hanging low over the horizon. Her lips parted in a soft, dreamy smile.
“Hey,” Katsuki’s voice rumbled behind her.
She turned, startled, to find him standing in the doorway, fresh from the shower. A white towel hung around his neck, his hair damp and spiky. He wore loose black shorts and nothing else, his chest still beaded with water.
“Hey,” she echoed, cheeks warming.
He stepped closer, eyeing her with that smoldering intensity that always made her knees weak. “Wanna go for a walk with me?” he asked, his voice low and rough.
She hesitated. “But what if the others catch us? I mean—”
“Fuck ‘em,” he cut her off, a crooked grin on his lips. He closed the distance between them, his hands sliding around her waist in one smooth motion. Before she could squeal, he hoisted her off her feet and jumped over the balcony railing.
Her stomach dropped as they soared down the two stories, the air rushing past her, but Katsuki landed on the back patio with all the grace and confidence of the Pro hero he was with all his training. He set her down gently, his eyes glittering with mischief and triumph.
She gaped at him, heart pounding. “You’re insane,” she giggled breathlessly.
He smirked, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Never heard of you complaining before.”
With his hand still holding hers, he guided her off the patio and down the winding path to the beach, the sand cool and soft beneath their feet. The moon cast a silver glow over the rolling waves, and the night air was full of the sound of the ocean.
They strolled side by side along the moonlit beach, hand in hand, the surf rolling in gentle waves that tickled their toes. The air smelled of salt and night-blooming flowers, and the sky was a deep, endless blue, peppered with stars.
Rosie squeezed his hand, sighing softly as she lifted her head to admire the horizon. “I love the beach,” she murmured, her eyes bright with contentment. “It’s always felt…like home. I love the sound of the waves, the sand between my toes, and the way the sky stretches forever.”
Katsuki grunted in agreement, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Would you…wanna come again?” he asked, his tone gruff but vulnerable. “Just the two of us.”
Her head turned sharply, a soft smile blooming across her face. “Yes,” she breathed. “I’d love that, Katsuki.”
He paused, his steps slowing as he watched her, eyes smoldering like embers in the dark. “Every summer,” he said fiercely, “we’ll come back to the beach. And one day—” his jaw tensed, his hand tightening around hers “—one day, we’ll bring our kids too.”
She stopped in her tracks, staring at him in shock, her heart hammering in her chest. “Katsuki—don’t—” she stammered, her eyes wide. “You can’t just say things like that.”
He took a step closer, the sea breeze ruffling his hair, his face lit only by the moonlight. “I can and I will,” he growled, every word dripping with conviction. “I’m gonna marry you, Rosie. I’m gonna make all those dreams of yours come true, ‘cause you’re mine.”
Her lips trembled, her eyes filling with tears as his words sank in. “Katsuki—”
Without hesitation, he dropped to one knee right there on the sand, his strong hand never leaving hers. The waves lapped at his feet, but he didn’t care. His eyes glistened with unwavering determination as he looked up at her.
“I swear to you,” he said, his voice raw, “I’m gonna become the Number One Pro Hero. I’m gonna be the man you can count on, the one who protects you and gives you every single thing you’ve ever wanted and needed. I’ll be the husband you deserve. And one day, you’ll be my wife—the mother of my kids—and I’ll spend every damn day my devotion to you more than the last.”
“Katsuki…” she trailed off. Her tears spilled over as she dropped to her knees in front of him, her hands cupping his face. “Katsuki,” she sobbed.
He leaned in, closing the gap between them, and kissed her deeply—fiercely, as if he never wanted to let her go.
Rosie lay nestled in Katsuki’s arms, the soft weight of the comforter draped around them as dawn crept in through the open balcony doors. The ocean breeze was cool against their skin, carrying the scent of salt and sand. From their bed, they could see the horizon set ablaze in hues of pink and orange, the sun slowly ascending in a quiet, breathtaking spectacle.
She sighed contentedly, her head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Katsuki’s strong hand drifted lazily across her skin, his calloused fingers tracing the small dragon tattoo beneath her left breast—a delicate design that coiled around a single letter: K.
She giggled softly, shivering at the ticklish sensation. “Why do you always trace that?” she asked, her voice raspy with sleep.
His crimson eyes met hers, smoldering with possessive warmth. “Because,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the tattoo again, “you branded yourself with my initial.”
Her heart skipped a beat at the way he said it—like he was both proud and deeply touched. She lifted her head just enough to smile at him. “You’re silly.”
“Yeah, well…” He paused, his gaze shifting thoughtfully. “You should choose a place for mine.”
She blinked, surprised. “What?”
He turned to face her more fully, his thumb now tracing her jawline. “I’m serious. You branded yourself for me. I want one for you too.”
Her breath hitched. “Katsuki…”
“Pick a place,” he growled softly. “Where you want it. I’m gonna get it done on my next day off.”
She blushed, her eyes sparkling with both affection and disbelief. After a moment’s hesitation, she turned in his arms, pressing her bare chest to his. “The same place,” she whispered. “Right here.” She took his hand and pressed it gently beneath her own left breast.
His eyes darkened, his voice low and reverent. “Done,” he said. “It’ll be arranged.”
She smiled, leaning up to kiss him—slowly, sweetly, their lips parting and deepening the kiss as the morning light bathed them in a golden glow. His hand slid into her hair, pulling her closer, and she sighed against his mouth, heat pooling between them as his other hand traced down her back.
But just as they were about to lose themselves completely, the door creaked open, and Shoto’s voice cut through the haze. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact but tinged with amusement. “Izuku is already up and downstairs. It’s time to switch.”
“Look away half and half,” he growled, covering Rosie’s naked form from Shoto’s gaze, who was already turning as she grabbed her shirt and quickly tugged it on.
Rosie pulled away from Katsuki with a breathless laugh, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Later,” she whispered, slipping from the bed and tiptoeing to the door, her grin wide as she waved goodbye.
Katsuki watched her go, a satisfied smirk playing at his lips. “You’re mine, Rosie,” he muttered to himself, his heart pounding as he settled back against the pillows, already counting the minutes until he could hold her again.
Notes:
it’s fun watching you guys enjoy these sweet moments between them😼
Chapter 96: He gave me a vibe I didn’t like at all—and it looks like Maya agrees with me.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
They spent the morning eating breakfast together, the warm aroma of coffee and pancakes wafted through the air. Mina and Uraraka had whipped up a light breakfast while Izuku and Shoto helped set the table, still half-asleep. Whereas Katsuki, Kirishima and Kaminari were helping but grumbling good-naturedly. Rosie, Momo, and Jirou were seated at the bar yawning but talking quietly.
After breakfast, everyone split up to get ready for the day. Rosie changed into a short red romper and pulled her hair into a half up and half down, while the guys slipped into shorts and loose shirts, ready for a casual stroll through the beach town’s colorful streets.
They wandered together through local shops, exploring handmade jewelry, shell necklaces, and souvenir stalls. Rosie found a delicate silver anklet that Katsuki insisted on buying for her, his cheeks tinged pink as he muttered, “So you remember me every time you wear it.”
They had taken many photos throughout the morning as Mina insisted on completing her pinterest board inspo. They found a cozy café near the boardwalk for lunch, savoring fish sandwiches, shaved ice, and iced coffee as they chatted about the rest of their plans.
After lunch, they grabbed several watermelons from a fruit stand—Mina’s idea, of course—and headed back to the beach house, all talking at once about who’d get to smash them first.
Once they were back, they changed into their swimsuits—bright bikinis and board shorts—and made their way down to the sun-warmed sand. The girls laid out towels and umbrella shades while the guys set up the watermelons, each one gleaming in the midday sun.
Armed with wooden bats, blindfolds, and a competitive spirit, they took turns trying to crack open the melons, their laughter echoing across the sand. Katsuki was first, swinging with deadly precision and splitting his in two, grinning like a champion. Kirishima, Kaminari, and Shoto all followed, each trying to outdo the others with dramatic swings and exaggerated battle cries.
Before long, the game devolved into an all-out wrestling match, the guys tackling each other into the sand, watermelon pulp flying as they rolled around like overgrown kids.
The girls sat back on their towels, laughing and cheering them on as they ate juicy chunks of the smashed watermelon, sticky juice dribbling down their arms. Rosie leaned against Momo, her cheeks pink from laughter, while Mina teased, “Boys will be boys, huh?”
Rosie sighed contentedly, wiping a drip of watermelon juice from her chin. “Yeah,” she giggled, eyes shining as she watched Katsuki’s biceps flexing as he tried to pin Kirishima down.
After their sandy, watermelon-smeared afternoon, everyone made their way back to the beach house for dinner. The air smelled of the salty sea and warm summer night as they showered off the sticky watermelon juice and sand. Katsuki, surprisingly, took over the grill, whipping up perfectly glazed teriyaki chicken that glistened under the patio lights.
Momo and Mina busied themselves with making rice and slicing fresh cucumbers and cherry tomatoes for a quick salad. They all sat around the patio table, still in their beach clothes, their skin sun-kissed and hair damp from the day’s adventures.
Dinner was a lively affair, filled with jokes and playful jabs. Katsuki fed Rosie a piece of chicken off his own plate, making her cheeks flush pink as he teased, “Eat up. You need the energy for later.” Luckily no one had heard or seen him nip her earlobe.
After dinner, Mina clapped her hands with that mischievous grin of hers. “Alright, everyone—swimsuits back on, meet me in the hot tub!”
With the sun sinking into the ocean, they changed into swimsuits and gathered around the steaming water, each clutching a drink: cocktails, ciders, and in Katsuki’s case, a straight-up beer. The bubbles frothed around them as Mina perched on the edge, her grin wicked.
“Let’s play truth or drink,” she declared, raising her glass. “You either answer honestly, or you drink. Deal?”
Everyone agreed, though Rosie felt her heart skip a beat at the idea of sharing anything too personal in front of the group.
Mina started off strong. “Kirishima—have you ever fantasized about anyone here?”
Kirishima, cheeks pink, laughed and admitted, “Yeah…once or twice.”
The game snowballed from there, each question more risqué than the last.
“Momo—ever made out with someone of the same gender?” Mina smirked.
Momo, her face flushed red, quickly downed her drink instead of answering, earning a chorus of teasing “Ooh!”
“Shoto—what’s your biggest turn-on?” Kaminari asked with a sly grin.
Shoto, unfazed, coolly replied, “control.”
Uraraka, cheeks pink and eyes sparkling, answered hers with a shy nod. “Yes, I’ve had a crush on a classmate before.”
When it was Rosie’s turn, Mina leaned forward with a playful smirk. “Rosie—what’s the naughtiest thing you’ve done?”
Rosie sputtered, face crimson, and immediately knocked back her drink, avoiding eye contact with Katsuki as the others howled with laughter.
Katsuki only grinned, looking like the cat that got the cream. “Smart move,” he muttered.
The game continued, each question more suggestive than the last. Kaminari confessed to hooking up in a supply closet. Jirou admitted she liked being tied up. Mina, ever the fearless one, described in detail her “best kiss” experience in a way that made even Shoto’s ears pink.
Rosie and Momo mostly drank to avoid answering, giggling and burying their faces in each other’s shoulders whenever the questions got too spicy. Their cheeks were bright pink, and their laughter mingled with the steam curling around them in the night air.
Izuku, red-faced and stammering, was the first to call Uncle. “O-Okay, okay, guys, I think I’m done,” he laughed nervously, looking at Uraraka, who was equally flushed. “We’re gonna head to bed.”
Uraraka gave a sheepish smile, clutching Izuku’s hand as they slipped out of the hot tub and hurried inside, sharing secret smiles.
Not long after, Jirou sighed dramatically, “Alright, I’m officially mortified.” She and Kaminari exchanged embarrassed looks, both of their faces still pink from the game’s increasingly scandalous questions. Grabbing her towel, she climbed out and tugged Kaminari along by the wrist. “Come on, Dunceface. We’re done.”
That left Rosie, Katsuki, Mina, Momo, Shoto, and Kirishima in the hot tub, each of them more than a little tipsy. Mina stretched her arms over her head, eyes glinting with mischief. “Well, now that the shy ones are gone—let’s keep this going.”
Kirishima grinned, cheeks pink from the alcohol and the questions. “Yeah, I’m game!”
Mina turned to Rosie, an impish smile dancing on her lips. “Alright, Rosie—what was your first kiss like? Details!”
Rosie’s eyes widened. She glanced at Katsuki, who gave her a look that said, “Go on.” Her cheeks heated. “Um… it was really sweet,” she started carefully. “He was… um… gentle. Really careful. I was so nervous I could barely breathe.” She laughed softly, eyes warm with the memory. “But I remember feeling like the world had stopped. Like nothing else mattered.”
Mina cooed, grinning. “Aw, that’s adorable!”
Katsuki’s eyes darkened slightly with pride, though he hid it behind a smirk.
Mina was relentless. “Okay, okay—biggest turn-on?”
Rosie nearly choked. “Um—nope!” She tipped back her drink, giggling as Mina and Kirishima whooped and clapped.
Momo, on the other hand, was on her third drink since the last question, cheeks flushed and giggles bubbling from her lips every time someone teased her. Every time a question came her way, she’d lift her glass with a bashful smile and say, “Drink!”
Rosie leaned over, placing a gentle hand on Momo’s shoulder. “Hey, Momo—maybe we should get you to bed, okay?”
Momo blinked at her, eyes dazed but trusting. “Yeah,” she murmured, nodding.
Katsuki arched a brow at Rosie, his hand resting possessively on her hip beneath the water. “Need me to walk you guys up?”
Rosie smiled at him. “No, I’ve got her,” she said softly, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before carefully helping Momo out of the hot tub.
“Be back soon,” she called over her shoulder, her other hand bracing Momo’s waist as they navigated the patio and into the house, leaving behind the laughter of their friends and the soft lapping of the ocean waves beyond.
Rosie stood beneath the cherry blossom tree near the edge of campus, her heart thudding with anticipation as the pink petals drifted down like a gentle snowfall around her. Her fingers toyed with the hem of her skirt as she rocked on her heels, eyes scanning the path for any sign of him.
It was White Day—a day she’d always dreamed of celebrating properly—and she couldn’t help but feel a bubble of excitement in her chest. She’d given him her handmade chocolates on Valentine’s Day, and now she waited, hoping he’d remember.
Suddenly, she saw him. Katsuki approached with his usual determined stride, his backpack slung over his shoulder. His sleeves rolled up just enough to show off his strong forearms. His hair was wind-tousled, and his eyes—sharp and crimson—were fixed on her with that intense focus that always made her stomach flutter.
When he reached her, he hesitated for a second before reaching into his bag and pulling out a small, elegant white box tied with a soft pink and red ribbon. His cheeks were dusted pink, and he looked everywhere but at her as he held it out.
“H-Here,” he muttered, voice a little rougher than usual. “It’s, uh… for you.”
Rosie’s eyes widened. “Katsuki…”
He took a breath, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I… I know you like milk chocolate the best. And pomegranate seeds, and… and the other berries,” he mumbled, his voice trailing off as he scratched the back of his neck, his eyes darting to the ground. “So I… I tried to make a variety for you. Some have strawberries, some have blueberries, some raspberries… and some just the pomegranate ones you like.”
She stared at him, her heart overflowing. “You made these?”
His face turned even redder, his jaw tight. “Yeah,” he said, sounding almost defensive. “Took me a while. I’m not exactly a pro at that crap. But… I wanted to do it right. For you.”
Before he could say another word, Rosie let out a small, delighted squeal and leapt forward, nearly dropping her own bag as she threw her arms around his neck. He staggered back a step, but his arms instinctively wrapped around her waist, holding her tight.
She pressed her lips to his with a giggle, then pulled back just enough to rest her forehead against his. “Katsuki, I love it,” she whispered, her eyes shining. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”
He tried to smirk, but it came out shy and soft. “Yeah, well… you made Valentine’s Day special for me, so… I wanted to do the same. Didn’t want to half-ass it.”
She laughed, tears sparkling at the corners of her eyes. “You didn’t. You made it perfect.”
He gave a small, relieved huff of laughter. “Tch. Yeah, well—”
She silenced him with another kiss, lingering and sweet, cherry blossom petals dancing around them as if blessing the moment. When she pulled away, she looked into his eyes and whispered, “Thank you for making White Day special, Katsuki.”
His arms tightened around her, pulling her close until her feet nearly left the ground. “You deserve it,” he murmured against her hair, his voice low and reverent. “Every day, you deserve it.”
And as the cherry blossoms fell like confetti around them, Rosie knew that no matter what else happened, this would be one of those perfect memories—one she’d cherish for the rest of her life.
“I made plans for us to go to dinner,” he murmured.
She breathed, “thank you for being wonderful.”
Maerya sat in the living room with her laptop in her lap, her textbook propped open beside her, and pages of notes scattered across the coffee table. Rosie sat across from her with her own books and papers, scribbling in her notebook, her laptop balanced on a stack of folders. Soft classical music played in the background, filling the cozy room with a calm, focused atmosphere as they studied.
After a while, Maerya let out a dramatic sigh, pushing her laptop away. “I’m starving.”
“Good, because I’m absolutely ravenous,” Rosie grinned, snapping her laptop shut. “What are you in the mood for?”
“Fried chicken?” Maerya suggested with a hopeful smile.
Rosie’s eyes lit up. “That actually sounds amazing. Hold on.” She hopped up from the couch and padded over to the kitchen, rummaging through her takeout drawer stuffed with menus and coupons.
Maerya watched from the living room, her hair falling into her face as she leaned back with a sigh. “You’re a lifesaver.”
Rosie laughed. “I know.” She grabbed her phone and placed their large order, tacking on extra sides and drinks.
Once she hung up, she declared, “Homework is officially done for the day.” She moved back to the living room, gathering up her books and setting them aside. Maerya did the same, stacking her notes neatly on the end table.
Rosie poured them each a glass of wine, the soft pop of the cork and the gurgle of liquid filling the quiet space. Just as she handed Maerya her glass, the doorbell rang.
“That was fast!” Rosie said, grabbing her wallet and heading for the door, with Maerya hot on her heels and Maya, Rosie’s small dog, weaving between their legs excitedly.
When Rosie opened the door, she found a man standing there in a crisp red, black, and yellow uniform. His green eyes were striking, and he gave her a friendly, almost too eager smile. “Hello,” he said, voice bright. “Delivery for Rosie?”
“That’s me.” Rosie returned his smile. “How much do I owe you?”
“That’ll be 7200 yen,” he replied, adjusting the large brown paper bag in his arms.
Maya suddenly started yipping at him from between Rosie’s legs, her tiny frame bristling. Rosie sighed. “I’m sorry—she doesn’t really like strangers.”
The man chuckled. “I’m used to it working as a delivery guy.”
Rosie handed over the money, her smile sweet but distracted as she fished out the correct change. He took it, handing over the bag with a grin that lingered a little too long.
“You know,” he added, leaning in slightly, “you’re really gorgeous. Can I… maybe get your number?”
Rosie blinked in surprise. “Oh, um—”
“She’s unable to give out her number,” Maerya interjected smoothly, stepping forward with a polite yet cold smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “But thanks for the compliment.”
The man’s smile faltered as Maerya’s expression darkened just a fraction. “Ah—sorry, I—”
“Have a good night,” Maerya finished, firmly. She reached out, took the bag from Rosie’s hands, and—without giving the man a chance to reply—swiftly closed the door in his face.
Rosie let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Thanks for that,” she murmured, her cheeks flushed.
Maerya shrugged, her lips curving into a small smile as she handed Rosie the bag. “That was nothing,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’ve got to be careful, you know? Some of these guys are serious weirdos. He gave me a vibe I didn’t like at all—and it looks like Maya agrees with me.”
Rosie glanced down at her little dog, who was still bristling at the closed door, her tail wagging in anxious circles. “Yeah, she’s a good judge of character,” Rosie said, bending to scoop Maya up in one arm as she balanced the takeout in the other.
Maerya rolled her eyes but smiled fondly. “Better safe than sorry, okay?”
Rosie leaned over and hugged her. “You’re the best, Maerya.”
Maerya rolled her eyes again, but her grin said it all. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s eat before it gets cold.”
And with that, they headed to the kitchen.
Notes:
have I returned to updating everyday? Yes. I hope you guys enjoy the chapter and let me know what you guys think and I'll see you guys tomorrow💖
Chapter 97: A babe like her shouldn’t look terrible
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Mina frowned as she stood with Kanako, Uraraka, Momo, Kirishima, and Kaminari near the courtyard fountain, their laughter fading when they caught sight of Rosie. She moved across the courtyard slowly, her steps hesitant, as if each one carried a weight she couldn’t bear to lift.
Mina had been about to call out a cheerful, “Hey Rosie!” but the words caught in her throat. Rosie’s face was blotchy and puffy, her eyes red-rimmed, and her clothes were wrinkled and slightly askew. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days.
“What’s wrong with Rosie?” Mina asked aloud, her voice tinged with worry.
“A babe like her shouldn’t look terrible,” Kaminari muttered, clicking his tongue as if the problem was something easily fixed.
Momo’s brows knit together in concern. “It looks like she’s been crying,” she said softly.
Uraraka watched Rosie with a sympathetic expression. “We should go talk to her,” she suggested, taking a step forward.
Kanako gently grabbed her arm. “I’d give her some space,” she said, her tone firm but kind.
“Why? That’s not very manly,” Kirishima frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “She’s our friend. We should help her.”
Kanako sighed, her eyes following Rosie as she walked, her head bowed. “It’s almost been a year since her mom died,” she said quietly. “She’s probably been preparing for the anniversary. It’s a hard time.”
Mina’s lips parted in a small, sad “oh.”
“Yeah,” Kanako continued. “She’s in mourning. That’s not something you just bounce back from.”
They all fell silent, watching Rosie’s small figure as she moved across the courtyard like a ghost, lost in her own world. A soft breeze rustled the cherry blossoms above her, scattering pink petals around her like delicate confetti, but she didn’t seem to notice.
Mina bit her lip, her eyes glistening. “She shouldn’t have to be alone,” she murmured.
Kanako placed a reassuring hand on Mina’s shoulder. “She’s not alone,” she said gently. “We’re here. Just… let her know you’re there when she’s ready.”
As Rosie disappeared up the steps and into the building, the group stood in a thoughtful silence, each of them promising themselves that when she was ready, they’d be there—no matter what.
An eight year old Rosie, her small hands gripping a brush almost too large for her as she sat cross-legged on the patio behind their old house. The warm afternoon sun spilled golden light across the yard, dappling the grass and the tall rows of flowers her mother tended so carefully.
Their garden was a riot of color—marigolds, lavender, climbing roses in shades of pink and crimson, and bright sunflowers that reached for the sky. Her mother loved flowers as they filled the large backyard. Her mother had always said that a garden was a reflection of the heart, and every flower was a promise of hope.
Rosie’s paint-splattered sketchbook was balanced on her lap as she worked diligently on a watercolor of the sunflowers. She stuck her tongue out in concentration, determined to capture every petal just right. The air smelled of earth, blooms, and her mother’s favorite lavender hand lotion.
“Rosie!” Her mother’s voice floated over the fence. She appeared in a wide-brimmed straw hat, her gardening gloves smudged with soil. Her smile was as bright as the daisies she’d just planted.
“Look at you, my little artist,” she beamed, setting down her trowel and stepping over to Rosie’s side. She bent down, her arms encircling Rosie from behind, and rested her chin on Rosie’s shoulder. “Let me see.”
Rosie shyly tilted the page toward her, the watercolors still damp and bleeding slightly in the sun. The sunflowers she’d painted were a little uneven, but they shone bright and cheerful, just like the ones in the garden.
Her mother gasped softly, as if seeing a masterpiece. “Oh, honey,” she murmured, planting a gentle kiss on Rosie’s temple. “That’s beautiful. It’s even brighter than the real thing.”
Rosie giggled, cheeks flushing pink. “You think so?”
“Of course,” her mother said, brushing a wisp of hair from Rosie’s face. “Your paintings always make me smile. You know, maybe you’ll be a famous artist one day, and everyone will come to see your beautiful flowers.”
Rosie beamed, basking in the praise, her heart swelling with pride. “You think so, Mama?”
Her mother nodded. “I know so.” She hugged her tighter, her cheek resting against Rosie’s hair. “No matter where you go, Rosie, always remember: you bring light into the world. You’re our sunshine.”
In that moment, the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow over the garden. Rosie felt safe and warm in her mother’s arms, the promise of her mother’s love rooted deep in her heart—like the flowers they tended together.
One year.
It had been nearly one year since the death—no, the murder —of her mother, and the weight of that truth sat heavy on Rosie’s chest. The pain of it felt like a wound that hadn’t healed, a raw, bleeding gash she carried every day.
She tried to breathe past it as she stood in her apartment, her hands trembling slightly as she set out the items for the memorial. A single candle, a delicate incense holder, and a framed photo of her mother smiling, wearing her favorite blue scarf that she’d worn on so many chilly autumn mornings. Rosie had learned, through her time in Japan, that families often made shrines for their departed loved ones—a place to honor them, to remember them. Her father had one of her mothers and she always paid her respects when she went over.
She had put it off for so long, too afraid to acknowledge the finality of it, but now, a year later, she knew she couldn’t keep pretending.
Carefully, she laid out a white cloth on the low table in the corner of her living room, smoothing it down with shaking fingers. She placed her mother’s photo in the center and lit a small white candle, its flame flickering in the gentle draft from the open balcony. A stick of sandalwood incense joined it, the smoky fragrance filling the space with a calming scent that reminded her of home.
Her mother had always liked simple things—lavender soap, warm tea, fresh flowers from the garden. Rosie arranged a small vase of roses, carnations, and peonies beside the candle, her throat tightening.
She knelt before the shrine, folding her hands together and bowing her head. Tears blurred her vision as she whispered, “I miss you so much, Mom.”
Hours passed, the day slipping by in a haze of grief. Rosie moved through the apartment like a ghost, unable to focus on anything except the ache in her chest. Eventually, she pulled out the old cardboard box she’d shoved in the back of her closet, the one marked in her mother’s handwriting: “Memories.”
She hadn’t touched it since she’d packed it up back in America, too afraid of what it might stir up. But today, she needed it.
She sat cross-legged on the floor, opening the box slowly, as if it might bite. Inside, she found photo albums, scraps of notes, little trinkets that her mother had saved—birthday cards, concert tickets, even a dried flower from a day in the park.
She flipped through the albums, her fingers trembling as she traced the pictures of her and her mother. Birthdays with messy cakes, Halloween costumes she’d insisted on making by hand, long days at the beach with sunburned noses and too much laughter.
Tears spilled down her cheeks, splashing onto the glossy photos. She clutched one close, pressing it to her chest as if she could somehow pull her mother back through the paper.
“I wish you were here,” she sobbed, her voice hoarse. “I wish I could have saved you. I wish I could have—”
Her words dissolved into sobs as she curled up on the floor, the small shrine’s candle flickering nearby. The incense burned low, its smoke a reminder that even in the pain, her mother’s memory lingered, warm and present.
She stayed there, surrounded by memories, letting the tears come and go like the ebb and flow of a relentless tide. With trembling hands, Rosie picked up a certain photo: her mother, smiling, one arm around her in their sunlit garden. She clutched it to her chest, pressing it against the ache in her heart as if it could heal the wound. Her voice broke on a sob that caught in her throat, and she began to choke on her own tears, gasping for air that felt too heavy to draw.
She didn’t even notice the apartment door opening, nor the footsteps crossing the floor. Her world was a blur of grief—dark and suffocating. She barely felt the warmth of the arms that slid around her, steady and strong.
Startled, she blinked, tears clinging to her lashes as she was gently lifted, cradled into a familiar lap. A hand smoothed her hair from her face, thumb wiping at her tears, and her vision cleared just enough to see the lines of sorrow carved into the man’s features.
“Dad,” she whispered, her voice raw and small. His own eyes were red and weary, the weight of his own grief evident in every exhausted line on his face. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, either.
Seeing him—seeing that pain mirrored in him—made her heart crack even further. The dam inside her broke, and she buried her face in his chest, sobbing harder than she had all day.
He pulled her closer, his arms like a shield against the world’s cruelty, his hand stroking her hair as tears rolled silently down his own cheeks.
“I miss her so much,” she sobbed.
“I know, sweetheart. I know,” he murmured, his voice thick with his own grief. “I miss her too.”
And so they sat, father and daughter, two broken hearts leaning on each other, holding tight as the grief poured out of them like rain.
Rosie was seven years old, her small hands clutching the straps of her backpack as she bounced with excitement in line at the entrance to the amusement park. Her eyes were wide as saucers, darting from the towering Ferris wheel to the spinning teacups to the giant roller coaster in the distance. She’d never seen so many bright colors and heard so much laughter all at once.
Her mother, Miyu, stood beside her, one hand resting on Rosie’s shoulder and the other waving her phone to capture a candid photo of her little girl’s giddy grin. “Hold still, sweetie,” she giggled, though Rosie was too excited to keep from fidgeting.
Aizawa stood just behind them, wearing his usual calm but slightly amused expression. He’d left his hero work behind for the day, no scarf, no goggles, just Dad. He leaned down to whisper, “Ready to have some fun, sunshine?”
Rosie beamed at him, cheeks flushed pink. “Yeah!” she squealed.
The day was a blur of bright lights, shrieks of laughter, and sugary treats. Miyu held Rosie’s hand as they spun around on the carousel, Aizawa snapping photos from the sidelines. Together, they tackled every kiddie ride Rosie pointed to, with Aizawa pretending to be a scary monster on the haunted train and Miyu clutching Rosie during the small coaster like they were braving the world’s tallest drop.
At the face painting booth, Rosie chose a design of delicate flowers and butterflies that danced across her cheeks and forehead. Miyu’s eyes sparkled when she saw her. “Oh, Rosie, you look like a little fairy princess!”
Aizawa ruffled her hair gently, smiling in his quiet, reserved way. “Our little sunshine,” he said softly, his voice full of affection.
Afterward, they wandered out of the park and found a cozy, retro diner just off the main road. Rosie slid into the booth, her legs too short to reach the floor, and watched with fascination as the waitress took their order. She asked for the biggest ice cream sundae on the menu.
“You can have anything you want today,” Miyu said, running her hand through Rosie’s hair. “Today is all about our little girl.”
Aizawa nodded, his eyes softening as he looked at her. “You’re our sunshine,” he added. “And you’ve been so brave today. You deserve to be spoiled a little.”
“Mama, papa.” She stuck her bottom lip out, “are we going to be together forever?”
“Oh my darling girl,” Miyu scooped her up in her arms. “We’ll be together forever, I promise.”
Aizawa leaned over, placing a kiss on her head, “no one will take us from you.”
They shared fries and milkshakes, Rosie giggling between bites, her face lighting up every time she caught her reflection in the diner’s window—flowers and butterflies and all.
When the sundae arrived, it was a mountain of whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and cherries. Rosie gasped in delight. Miyu and Aizawa shared a look of pure love, both of them leaning in to help her scoop the first bite.
That night, as they carried her sleepy form back to the car, her head nestled on Aizawa’s shoulder and her painted face smudged with chocolate and laughter.
Rosie woke up still curled in her father’s arms, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her cheek a comforting reminder that she wasn’t alone. Aizawa’s hand continued to gently stroke her hair, the motion slow and calming, his thumb occasionally brushing her temple. Her head was tucked underneath his chin, and though his eyes were red and weary, his embrace felt like the strongest fortress in the world.
She blinked a few times, her vision adjusting to the darkness outside the window. The moon cast a faint silver glow across the living room, illuminating the small shrine she had set up for her mother earlier.
“Dad?” she asked, her voice small, cracking slightly.
“Yes, sunshine?” he murmured, his voice low and tired but warm.
“Do you think… do you think Mama was scared?”
Aizawa’s breath hitched, his chest trembling just slightly beneath her head. He didn’t respond immediately, his silence heavy. Finally, he let out a sigh, his fingers pausing in her hair. “Yes,” he admitted quietly. “I think she was scared.”
Rosie’s breath caught in her throat as she felt tears begin to sting her eyes again.
“But,” Aizawa continued, his voice soft but steady, “I think she was scared for many reasons. She would have been afraid of leaving you and Eri behind. Of not being able to say goodbye. Of not being there to see you grow up. But,” he repeated, his voice firm, “I know she would have fought with everything she had to stay with you.”
Rosie’s lips trembled. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
“I know.” Aizawa’s own voice cracked, and he tightened his hold on her, pressing his cheek against the top of her head. “I know, sunshine. I wish I could have given you that.”
There was a long silence as Rosie’s tears fell freely.
“Dad?” she finally whispered. “Where… where did it happen? Where was Mama attacked?”
Aizawa went still, his hand pausing in her hair. He let out a long, shaky breath. “It was… it was on the street, she had been coming home early,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “It was late, she was on her way home, and she saw a woman and her little boy being threatened.”
Rosie’s breath caught. “She… she tried to help them, didn’t she?”
Aizawa’s jaw clenched, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought to remain steady. “She couldn’t just walk away,” he said. “She tried to protect them. She tried to help. But it… it was a robbery gone wrong. The man panicked. She…” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard, his throat tight. “She didn’t make it.”
Rosie let out a soft, broken sound, pressing her face against his chest. “She was so brave,” she sobbed.
“She was,” Aizawa whispered, tears slipping down his own face as he held her tightly. “She was one of the bravest people I’ve ever known. And she loved you more than anything. You and Eri. She fought because she couldn’t stand by and let someone get hurt.”
Rosie’s tears soaked the fabric of his shirt, her hands clutching at him as though afraid he’d disappear. “I wish… I wish she’d just come home that day,” she whimpered. “I wish she hadn’t tried to help. I wish—”
“Shh,” Aizawa murmured, kissing the top of her head. “I know. I wish that too, sometimes. But… that was who she was. She couldn’t walk away. She was a hero, even if she didn’t wear a costume.”
Rosie’s sobs quieted, replaced by a raw ache in her chest. She sniffled and wiped her face, feeling drained. “Do you think she’s proud of me?” she whispered, her voice small and vulnerable.
Aizawa pulled back just enough to look at her, cupping her tear-stained face in his hands. His eyes glistened, but his gaze was unwavering. “Sunshine,” he said, his voice trembling but strong, “she would be so proud of you. She would be in awe of the person you’re becoming. I’m proud of you. Every single day.”
Rosie’s eyes welled with fresh tears, but this time they felt different—softer, tinged with a bittersweet warmth. She leaned into his hands, feeling the strength of his love.
“I love you, Dad,” she whispered.
“I love you too, sunshine,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Always.”
Notes:
Happy June everyone:) hope you enjoyed the chapter and let me know your thoughts
Chapter 98: Katsuki’s 21st birthday
Chapter Text
Rosie had been looking forward to this day for weeks—Katsuki’s birthday. He was turning 21 today, and she wanted it to be special from the very first moment. Saturdays were always her favorite because it was Katsuki’s one guaranteed day off, and she loved nothing more than being able to spend the whole day with him.
She had woken up early, her heart buzzing with excitement, and took her time getting ready. She showered and scrubbed every inch of her skin, carefully shaving and plucking every stray hair until she felt smooth and polished. She massaged her favorite scented lotion into her skin, leaving her feeling soft and smelling faintly of rainwater and roses.
She had picked out a pretty white dress adorned with delicate floral patterns that brushed softly against her knees whenever she moved, and paired with pink heels. Her makeup was soft and romantic—rosy cheeks, fluttery lashes, and a subtle pink tint on her lips—and her hair fell in loose waves that framed her face perfectly.
Her heart beat a little faster as she carefully wrapped the present she had chosen for him—a gift she had spent weeks planning and perfecting, knowing it would make him smile. It was tucked securely in a small bag, neatly tied with a red ribbon.
Before heading to his apartment, she stopped at their favorite coffee shop to pick up his usual order—a black coffee, strong, with just a hint of burnt caramel syrup (because he’d finally given in to her suggestion months ago and actually liked it now).
With the coffee in one hand and the neatly wrapped gift in the other, Rosie made her way to Katsuki’s apartment building, practically floating on air with excitement. She knew he wasn’t a morning person, but it was his birthday—she wasn’t going to let him sleep in too long.
Her key turned smoothly in the lock as she let herself into his apartment. It was still quiet, the early morning sunlight filtering in through the half-drawn curtains. She tiptoed down the hallway, her heart practically dancing in her chest.
She found him still asleep in bed, the blankets tangled around his legs, his hair a tousled mess on the pillow. A small smile tugged at her lips as she watched him for a moment, her heart swelling with affection at the sight of the man she adored looking so peaceful.
Setting his coffee and the gift on the nightstand, she crawled onto the bed beside him and leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Katsuki,” she whispered sweetly, giggling as she peppered more kisses across his cheek, then down to his jaw.
He stirred, a sleepy groan leaving his lips as he cracked one eye open. “Doll…?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.
“Happy birthday, sleepyhead,” she whispered, her voice warm with adoration. She giggled again, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’re 21 today. I have your favorite coffee and a present, but first I needed to wake you up properly.”
He blinked at her, his sleepy scowl softening as her giggles filled the room. His arms reached out, pulling her into a sleepy embrace that made her squeal. “You’re the best,” he muttered, pressing his face into her shoulder and breathing in her familiar scent.
She laughed, tangling her fingers in his hair. “Come on, birthday boy, I’ve got the whole day planned for us,” she said, her voice bright with excitement. “We’re going to make this the best birthday you’ve ever had.”
His eyes fluttered open, a small smile playing on his lips as he lifted his head just enough to kiss her. “Sounds perfect,” he murmured, his thumb brushing her cheek gently.
“Good,” she whispered, her heart swelling with love. “Because you deserve the world, Katsuki.”
And with that, she held him close, pressing soft kisses to his lips as the morning sunlight filled the room. After a few sleepy kisses and some playful teasing, Rosie finally managed to drag Katsuki out of bed. She handed him his coffee, which he accepted with a grumble and a sleepy grin.
“Happy birthday again,” she beamed, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he sipped.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but his eyes were soft as he looked at her.
She insisted on taking him out for breakfast—his choice, naturally. They ended up at a cozy little café he liked, where he ordered his usual: a hearty plate of eggs, bacon, sausage and toast, plus an extra side of pancakes that Rosie insisted on sharing. She ordered a fluffy omelet with mushrooms and cheese and practically glowed every time she looked at him.
After breakfast, she grinned at him. “Alright, birthday boy. Next stop—fun!”
He raised an eyebrow. “Define ‘fun.’”
She laughed, her eyes sparkling. “Laser tag and bowling!”
He snorted but followed her willingly, letting her drag him by the hand. At the laser tag arena, Rosie absolutely smoked him the first game—darting around corners, giggling every time she shot him—and he pretended to be annoyed, but she saw the playful glint in his eyes. By the second round, he had her cornered, smirking triumphantly as he tagged her over and over. She squealed and threw up her hands in surrender, but he just laughed and pulled her into a brief kiss, his chest warm and solid against her back.
After laser tag, they hit the bowling alley. Rosie lost badly—she was terrible at bowling, but she loved the sound of his laugh every time she knocked down only one or two pins. He even taught her how to hold the ball properly, his arms wrapping around her from behind as he guided her hands. It was the best part of the day so far, she thought, feeling his warmth and his breath on her neck. Even if they both knew that she could bowl perfectly well.
Once they’d had their fill of games and laughter, Rosie suggested lunch at a small ramen place that Katsuki had raved about before. They sat at the counter together, sharing bites of each other’s dishes, their knees bumping under the table. She kept stealing glances at him—his messy hair, his easy grin, the way his eyes softened every time he looked at her.
After lunch, she paid the bill (to his protests), and then, with a secretive smile, she led him back to her apartment.
“Why are we here?” he asked suspiciously as she unlocked the door.
“You’ll see,” she teased, winking at him.
She pushed open the door, and—“Surprise!”
A chorus of voices filled the apartment, streamers and balloons decorating the space, and all their friends grinning from the living room. Mina was holding a small noisemaker, Kaminari had a party hat on crooked, and Momo was holding a large chocolate cake decorated with candles that spelled out “21.”
Katsuki’s eyes widened, then narrowed as he turned to glare at Rosie. “You…” he growled, but his lips twitched with a smile.
“Happy birthday, Katsuki!” she beamed, grabbing his hand and dragging him forward as everyone started clapping.
Mina cheered, “Make a wish and blow out the candles, Bakugou!”
He let out an exaggerated sigh, pretending to be annoyed. “This is so stupid,” he muttered, but everyone could see the small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Make a wish!” Rosie insisted, eyes bright with love and pride.
Katsuki rolled his eyes, but then he met her gaze—and in that second, the irritation melted away. He leaned down and blew out the candles, the flames flickering out one by one. Everyone cheered.
“You’re such a softie, man,” Kirishima teased, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “Now come drink with us.”
Katsuki snorted, giving Rosie a playful glare as the guys dragged him into the living room. “You’re gonna pay for this,” he muttered—but his eyes were warm, and she could tell he was having a great time.
Rosie stood there, her heart full as she watched him laugh and shove at Kaminari, his grin lighting up the entire room.
The living room was alive with laughter and music as the party continued. Rosie wandered around the apartment, her camera slung around her neck, capturing every moment she could. She snapped a photo of Mina and Jirou arm-wrestling on the coffee table, Momo and Uraraka laughing as they watched. She caught Kaminari dramatically losing a round of cards to Kirishima, who was grinning like a shark as he collected his winnings.
But it was Katsuki she kept finding herself drawn to.
He was sitting on the couch now, a beer in one hand and his other draped over the back of the couch. Kirishima was teasing him about the cake, and Kaminari was trying (and failing) to get him to wear a paper party hat. Katsuki’s scowl was fierce, but his eyes were alight, his mouth tugging into a crooked smile despite himself. Every so often, he’d glance at Rosie, and every time he did, her heart fluttered.
She lifted her camera, snapping candid shots of him mid-laugh, or while rolling his eyes at one of the guys’ jokes. The way his hair fell just right, the soft lines at the corners of his eyes from the way he smiled—she couldn’t get enough.
She moved to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine, leaning against the counter as she watched. She sipped slowly, letting the warmth of the drink fill her chest, but her eyes never left him.
The guys were getting rowdy now, trash-talking each other over a game of cards.
“You couldn’t win this game if your life depended on it, Dunceface,” Katsuki growled, his voice dripping with amusement.
“Oh please,” Kaminari shot back, his cheeks pink from the drinks. “I’m on fire tonight. I’m gonna sweep the floor with you, Bakubro!”
Kirishima snorted. “You say that every time. And every time he beats you into the ground.”
“Shut it, Red,” Kaminari whined. “This is my night!”
Rosie couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face as she watched them—Katsuki’s fierce grin, the way his shoulders shook with laughter even as he tried to hide it. He looked so…beautiful. The dim light of the apartment caught the highlights in his hair, made his eyes glow like embers, and the way he sat there, exuding strength and confidence, made her heart ache in the best way.
She took another sip of wine, feeling a soft warmth spread through her. She didn’t want this moment to end. Rosie felt a wave of gratitude wash over her—that he was here, with her, surrounded by friends, on his birthday. That she’d been able to make this day special for him. That she’d captured these memories with her camera, these little slices of his joy.
And even though he pretended to hate the attention, she knew he appreciated it. Because every time he glanced at her, there was that look in his eyes—the one that told her he was exactly where he wanted to be.
Rosie clutched the stem of her wineglass a little tighter, a soft smile on her lips as she watched him play cards, her heart full of so much love for him that it felt like it might burst.
It had been a week since Katsuki’s birthday. Now, she sat on the edge of her bed, phone in hand, reading his text over and over again. Hey, I’m coming over. See you soon.
Her heart fluttered at the thought of seeing him. She quickly finished brushing her hair, choosing a soft yellow dress he’d once said made her look like the sun. She wanted to look perfect for him.
Moments later, she heard the front door open. Her heart leapt. She rushed out of her room, excitement bubbling in her chest. “Katsuki!” she called, stepping into the living room.
He stood there, hands in his pockets. His usually confident posture was gone, replaced by a heaviness she didn’t recognize. Had something happened at work? “Hey,” he spoke softly.
“Hey yourself,” she smiled, walking up to him. “What’s up?”
He didn’t return her smile. Instead, he grasped the back of her neck and devoured her lips. As though he had been starved for her. She fell into him and into the taste of his lips. Grasping onto his shirt to steady herself, she whimpered before he finally pulled away.
“Come with me,” he said softly. “Let’s go to the park.”
She nodded. “Sure. Let me grab my shoes.”
They walked together in silence, the late afternoon sun filtering through the leaves overhead. The park was semi-crowded—families playing on the grass, couples walking hand in hand. It was quiet and peaceful. When they reached a quiet spot by the fountain, he stopped.
“Katsuki?” Rosie asked, concern etching her features. “What’s wrong darling?”
He wouldn’t look at her. His jaw was clenched tight, his hands trembling at his sides. Finally, he took a deep breath, “Rosie,” he started, voice low and strained. “I—” He hesitated, pain flashing across his face. “I can’t do this anymore.”
She frowned, “we can do something else instead. We could go to the amusement park, go bowling or go see a movie. Actually there is a movie that I want to go s—”
“I’m breaking up with you,” he deadpanned.
Rosie’s eyes widened, her lips trembling. “W-what? What are you talking about?”
“I’m saying it’s over,” he said, his voice devoid of any warmth, a tone she had never heard from him before. “I’m done. We’re done.”
Tears immediately blurred her vision. She felt her chest tighten, her knees weakening as she struggled to hold herself upright. “Why? Did I do something wrong?” she choked out, her voice trembling. “Please…just tell me.”
Katsuki looked at her with an unreadable expression, his crimson eyes hard and unfeeling. “It’s not you,” he said flatly, his tone sharp enough to cut through the fragile hope she clung to. “We’re just better off not dating anymore.”
She blinked, her tears falling faster. “What? Katsuki, I—I don’t understand—”
He crossed his arms, his jaw tight. “I’ve decided I’m not interested anymore. That’s all.”
The finality in his words hit her like a punch to the gut. “Not…interested?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “After everything…after all the time we’ve spent together?”
His face remained impassive, cold. “It’s done, Rosie. Just let it go.”
A sob burst from her lips as she fell to her knees, the grass damp beneath her palms. She reached out to him, her hand trembling. “Please, Katsuki, please…whatever I did. Let me fix it.”
But he didn’t even flinch. He simply turned on his heel and began to walk away, his footsteps fading on the path behind him.
“Wait—please!” she cried, her voice breaking as she called after him. “Katsuki!”
He didn’t look back.
The park seemed to fade around her as the world closed in, her sobs echoing against the trees and the distant laughter of children who couldn’t see her broken heart. She didn’t know how long she stayed there, knees on the cold ground, tears streaming down her face.
Time felt frozen as she rocked back and forth on the cold grass, her chest aching with each breath. It was as if her heart had been ripped from her chest and stomped on, leaving nothing but jagged shards of pain. The man she had loved with everything she had— her Katsuki —was gone, leaving her with no explanation. Nothing but the echo of his cold, final words.
Her sobs grew ragged, her breath coming faster and faster, until it felt like the world was spinning out of control. Her hands clawed at the grass, her fingers trembling as she gasped for air, panic clawing at her throat. She couldn’t breathe—she couldn’t think.
“Rosie? Are you okay?”
The voice came from a few feet away. She barely registered it, her mind in a haze of grief and shock. Her eyes darted wildly, unfocused, until she saw the dark hair and the worried dark eyes, his familiar tattoo on his face bringing her a strange sense of comfort.
“R-Riku?” she rasped, her voice barely a whisper as her chest heaved violently, tears streaming down her blotchy cheeks.
He was by her side in an instant, his hands gently gripping her shoulders. “Hey, hey—breathe, Rosie. Breathe. Look at me, okay?” His voice was calm, but she could see the worry in his eyes.
But she couldn’t focus—her breath caught in her throat, each inhale feeling like a scream. She felt like she was drowning, like her heart was about to explode. Her hands clutched at his shirt, desperate for something to ground her.
“Riku—it—it hurts,” she cried, her voice breaking. “He—he left me. He—he didn’t even—didn’t even tell me why—”
Her body trembled violently as she hyperventilated, gasping for air between sobs. “I—I can’t—” she choked out, her vision going black around the edges.
“Hey—no, no—look at me,” Riku urged, his voice firm but gentle. He cupped her cheeks, forcing her eyes to meet his. “In—out. In—out. You’re safe, okay? I’ve got you.”
She tried to focus on him, but her mind was a whirlwind of pain and confusion. The betrayal, the sudden loss, the finality of it all crushed her, made her chest feel like it was caving in. But overall it was the disbelief she felt that consumed her. She refused to believe that Katsuki would break up with her. She gasped, the panic clawing at her lungs.
“Breathe, Rosie—breathe,” Riku said again, his own voice shaking now. “Please…just try.”
She clutched at his hands, her own trembling like leaves in a storm. Slowly—painfully—she fought to steady her breathing, following his voice like a lifeline. Tears still streamed down her face, but the worst of the panic began to ebb.
Her breathing slowed, ragged and uneven, but no longer so desperate. She collapsed against him, her body weak and spent. He held her close, his arms wrapped tightly around her, his own breath trembling as he whispered, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. I’m right here.”
Once she had calmed down, her sobs became sniffles and her body slowly began to give out. She frowned, “where did you come from?”
“I was on my way to go see my brother, he moved nearby just recently.” Riku answered. “Can I call you a cab or something?”
She shook her head, her voice small. “No, I—I live nearby, actually.”
“Are you sure?” Riku asked, concern written all over his face. “Can I walk you, or do you think you can get home on your own?”
Rosie hesitated, her hands trembling as she wiped her tears away with the sleeve of her dress. “Yeah,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “Yeah, I can get home on my own. Thank you.” She paused, her lip quivering. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” Her voice cracked as she struggled to finish. “I didn’t mean to inconvenience you or disturb you on your way to see your brother.”
Riku’s expression softened, and he shook his head. “Rosie, you don’t have to apologize,” he said gently. “You’ve been through something terrible today. I’m so sorry you’re going through this.” He exhaled, his shoulders dropping. “If you need anything—anything at all—please just let me know, okay? I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
She managed a small, broken smile through her tears, her heart still aching like an open wound. “Thank you,” she said, her voice hoarse. “That would be great. I—I really appreciate it.”
Riku gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, then stood, watching her go with a worried expression. Rosie turned away, her legs trembling beneath her, and made her way back down the path, every step feeling heavier than the last.
The walk home was a blur, her mind fogged by the shock and pain. She fought to hold back the tears that threatened to pour down her cheeks, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. She told herself she could make it home—she just had to make it home.
When she finally reached her apartment, she shut the door behind her, pressing her back to it as if to keep the world out. She pressed her trembling fingers to her lips, but the tears came anyway, hot and unstoppable.
She stumbled to the couch and collapsed, hugging her knees to her chest. The ache in her chest grew so fierce she thought she might suffocate under the weight of it.
A raw, broken sob escaped her lips, and the dam broke. She cried uncontrollably, the pain and heartbreak pouring out in ragged sobs that shook her entire body. The betrayal, the confusion, the loneliness—all of it hit her at once.
She tried to breathe, to calm herself, but every time she closed her eyes she saw Katsuki’s cold expression and heard his words echoing in her head. I’m done. We’re done.
Her tears soaked her sleeves, her pillow, the couch. She cried until her voice was hoarse, until she had nothing left to give.
Eventually, her tears subsided, leaving only an empty ache. Her body exhausted, she lay back on the couch, her mind too tired to process any more pain. She closed her swollen eyes and drifted into a restless sleep, the remnants of her heartbreak clinging to her like a second skin.
Notes:
For those who don't know, the story is taking place in late April as Katsuki's birthday is April 20th:0
It took me all night to re-write this chapter as I was unsatisfied by how I wrote it. I might go back and rewrite it, I’m not sure but let me know your thoughts.
anyway, hope you guys loved the chapter and I'll see you tomorrow.
Oh and be prepared:)
Chapter 99: Cherry Lipgloss
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The change had been swift and brutal. One minute Rosie had been a ghost of her former self—quiet, withdrawn, melancholy. She’d walked throughout her own apartment with her head down, her eyes rimmed red from nights spent crying alone. She’d moved through her days like a shell of the vibrant, sunshine-filled girl she used to be.
But it only got worse.
Days bled into each other like ink on wet paper. Rosie couldn’t remember when she’d last eaten a proper meal. Her fridge was nearly empty, save for a half-finished bottle of water and a few moldy leftovers she couldn’t bring herself to throw away. She didn’t even care. Food felt like a burden she couldn’t handle.
Her hair was tangled, the sweet floral scent she’d once loved replaced by the sour tang of sweat and neglect. She hadn’t showered in days—maybe even weeks. She couldn’t remember. Her toothbrush sat untouched by the sink, a reminder of the small routines she’d abandoned.
Every night she collapsed on her bed—sometimes fully dressed, sometimes not—crying until her eyes burned. Sometimes the tears stopped, leaving behind an empty, hollow ache that made her want to scream. Other times she passed out mid-sob, her face still damp, her chest still tight.
She barely had the energy to exist, let alone live.
Akira tried—oh, she tried. She had gotten on the next plane the day after Katsuki broke up with her, and had come by every day with food and worried eyes, knocking on her door, calling her phone. “Rosie, it’s me. Can you open up?” she’d ask, voice muffled through the door. Sometimes she didn’t even have the strength to answer. Other times she’d croak out a broken “I’m fine,” just to make her go away.
However, Akira would only be kind and understanding for a short amount of time. She only had so much patience. Which is why one morning, Akira had enough.
She pounded on her door until she finally cracked it open, eyes swollen, cheeks streaked with tears. “Go away,” she whispered, but he didn’t.
“Rosie,” she said, pushing inside, her jaw set. “You can’t live like this.”
She turned away from her childhood best friend, retreating to the darkened bedroom where the air smelled stale and thick. She collapsed on the bed, curling into a ball as her body shook. “Just let me rot,” she rasped. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Akira’s eyes softened, but her voice remained firm. “No. I’m not letting you do this to yourself.”
She reached for her, her hands lifting her with surprising gentleness despite her frustration. She barely struggled as she all but dragged her to the bathroom, where the overhead light flickered ominously. She needed to change the bulb. But it was so much work.
Setting her down in the tub, she turned on the water, testing the temperature. She shivered at the sensation, hugging her knees to her chest. “Akira, please, don’t—”
“Enough.” Her voice cracked but stayed steady. Akira stripped her down and tossed her dirty clothes into her overfilled laundry basket before climbing in behind her, fully clothed, and reached for the soap and shampoo. “You’re not alone in this, okay? I’m not leaving you.”
Tears streamed down her face as her hands worked the shampoo into her tangled hair. She was gentle but firm, rinsing away the days of grime and neglect. She trembled under her touch but didn’t have the energy to fight her off.
“You haven’t even brushed your teeth,” she said with quiet heartbreak. She held out a toothbrush, and when her hands shook too much to hold it, she helped her with that, too—like she was a child.
After the shower, she wrapped her in a fluffy towel and dressed her in fresh clothes she had fetched from her closet. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn something clean.
After, she led her to the kitchen and made her sit at the table while she reheated the takeout she had brought over. “Eat,” she commanded, and when she just stared at the bowl, she fed her himself, spoon by spoon.
Finally, when she’d eaten enough to keep her strength up, she cupped her face in his hands. “You can’t live like this, Rosie. You’re killing yourself. You think this is what your mom or your friends would want for you?”
Her eyes brimmed with fresh tears, but she couldn’t speak.
“You’re allowed to grieve,” Akira said, her voice trembling as she knelt in front of Rosie, cupping her face in both hands. “But you’re not allowed to stop living. I’m not letting you. What kind of friend would I be if I just sat back and watched you ruin yourself like this? Mom would be so mad at seeing you like this, you know she would.”
Rosie’s eyes fluttered shut, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. Akira’s words hit her like a punch to the chest because they were true—and because Akira knew exactly what she needed to hear.
Why did she know Akira was right? Because Rosie had seen it before—when Akira had gone through her own first heartbreak back when they were teenagers. Rosie’s mom, Miyu, had practically dragged Akira out of her dark place, forced her to shower, to get dressed, to eat something and function like a human again. Miyu had refused to let Akira waste away in her grief, showing her the same tough love that Akira now showed Rosie.
“He…he broke up with me…” Rosie choked out, her voice barely above a whisper, like it hurt just to say the words aloud.
Akira’s jaw tightened, her eyes flashing with anger but also something like fierce protectiveness. “He did,” she said, her voice clipped but steady. “And he had his reasons. And trust me, I’m very pissed. The only reason I haven’t marched over to his place and beaten his ass is because you are my priority, okay? You are.”
Rosie’s lip quivered, a sob breaking through. “H–”
Akira didn’t let her finish. She shook her head, silencing her gently but firmly. “No, Rosie. It’s been two weeks,” she said, her tone harder now. “Two weeks since he left you crying in the middle of that damn park. And every single day since, you’ve been holed up in here, not showering, not eating, not living. You even spent your birthday in bed, crying over Katsuki when you should have been out celebrating with me—like we always planned.”
Rosie winced, hugging herself tighter. Her own 21st birthday. She hadn’t even remembered it properly. It had blurred into the darkness.
Akira’s eyes softened, but her resolve did not. “We’re not doing this anymore,” she continued, her voice firm. “We are going out tonight. You will get dressed, we will put on our makeup, we will get shit-faced drunk, and we will eat tacos—like we should have done on your birthday.”
Rosie’s brows knit together, her lower lip trembling. “I…I dunno,” she whispered, her voice small and fragile.
Akira let out a huff and leaned forward, resting her forehead against Rosie’s. “No, Rosie. No more of that. We’re going. I’ll drag you out of here myself if I have to,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “You can cry, but you’re not going to rot. I love you too damn much to let you.”
Rosie’s tears fell faster then, but for the first time in weeks, she felt a tiny ember of hope—a flicker of light in the darkness. She might not have known how to go on, but at least she wouldn’t have to figure it out alone.
After that night, everything shifted.
Suddenly, Rosie was going out every night, drinking until the early hours of the morning, stumbling home with mascara running down her cheeks and perfume clinging to her clothes. She’d started skipping classes, ignoring texts from friends, ignoring assignments and responsibilities. Everyone noticed the change—but most chalked it up to grief. They whispered that maybe Rosie had finally snapped from the stress, the weight of her mother’s murder, and the constant fear of her stalker lurking in the shadows, always there.
But no one could truly understand the depth of her pain.
She avoided everyone who cared. She plastered on a bright smile, laughed too loud, pretended everything was fine. But everyone who knew her—even a little—could see through the act. One look at her trembling hands, the way her eyes darted away from questions, the way her lips quivered—she was a mess, and there was no hiding it.
How could she not be?
Her secret boyfriend—the one who had once made her feel like the only girl in the world—had dumped her without a word of explanation. Just a cold, cutting dismissal, as if all that they’d shared had been nothing more than a lie. Rosie still couldn’t process it. How could he—her loving, adoring boyfriend—want to break up with her out of nowhere? She’d replayed that day over and over, searching for a reason that would make sense. But there was nothing. Just his cold, indifferent words and the way he’d walked away, leaving her heart in shards on the ground.
A trembling sigh escaped her lips as tears threatened to spill again. She leaned over the sink, scrubbing at her smudged eyeliner, trying to erase the evidence of another sleepless night. Her chest hurt so much that every breath felt like knives.
“Rosie,” Akira’s voice broke through the fog of her thoughts. She stood at the bathroom doorway, arms folded, concern etched into every line of her face. “You should be studying instead of going out.”
Every night, Akira was there—making sure she was eating, coaxing her into the shower, trying to stop her from spiraling any further. But nothing reached her. She was too far gone, too deep in the quicksand of her heartbreak.
Akira hadn’t fought too hard, though. At least Rosie was getting out of bed, even if it was only to pour herself into the chaos of bars and clubs and half-remembered nights.
Inside, Rosie was a wreck. A hollow, empty shell. Every time she heard his name—every time someone asked about him —her chest tightened, her vision blurred, and panic clawed at her throat like a caged animal. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Her heart would pound so hard she thought it might explode.
She’d been grateful—so painfully grateful—that Akira had packed up all of his things for her. She couldn’t bear the thought of touching them, of folding his clothes, of seeing the coffee mug he always used, the hoodie she’d stolen and slept in when he was away on missions. She couldn’t handle the memories—the scent of him, the echo of his laugh.
Akira had delivered them to him, and Rosie had stood at the balcony, watching her friend carry away every tangible piece of the life she’d shared with him. She’d pressed her hand to the glass, tears slipping down her cheeks, unable to let go but knowing she had no choice.
Now, in the bathroom mirror, she saw a broken girl staring back at her. Her reflection was all sharp edges and raw nerves, her eyes haunted by sleepless nights and whispered fears. The ache of loss was a constant companion, pressing down on her chest until she felt like she might break.
She didn’t know how much longer she could do this—how much longer she could pretend that she was okay. One more breath. One more step. That was all she could manage now.
Shoto stared at Akira, his brows knitting together in surprise. He hadn’t even known she was back in Japan, let alone that she somehow knew where he lived.
“Uh…hello,” he said, blinking as he tried to collect himself. “What can I do for you?”
“Where the fuck is Katsuki?” she demanded, arms crossed, red lips set in a hard line, her hip cocked defiantly.
Shoto’s eyes widened. “He’s…on assignment in Fukushima,” he said, his frown deepening. “Did something happen to Rosie? Is she okay?”
Akira’s lips curled in disgust as she scoffed. “Asshole,” she muttered under her breath.
“Did I…say something wrong?” he asked, confusion evident in his eyes.
“No,” she sighed, raking a hand through her hair, her nails clicking softly against her skull. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she fished it out with a frustrated sigh. “Damn it…”
“What’s the matter?” Shoto pressed, concern seeping into his voice.
Akira shook her head, exhaling sharply. “Just some unfinished business I have with Monoma. I’ve been so busy taking care of Rosie that I haven’t had a chance to talk to him properly since I’ve been back.”
Shoto’s expression darkened. “What’s wrong with Rosie?”
Akira’s brows drew together, her eyes flashing with anger and disbelief. “You don’t know?” she shot back.
“Know what?” he asked, his heart rate picking up.
“Katsuki dumped Rosie two weeks ago,” she said, her voice trembling with both fury and pity. “She’s been a complete mess since then.”
Shoto felt like the ground had been yanked out from under him. He had noticed something off—some odd silences, a missed text here or there—but he’d been too preoccupied with his own recent break from guardian duty, finally getting to spend his free time with Momo after Hawks had cleared him. It had struck him as strange that Katsuki had suddenly relinquished the role so abruptly, but Hawks had worn that no-nonsense look that brooked no questions.
But to hear that Katsuki had broken up with Rosie—and that she’d been left to pick up the pieces alone—felt like a punch to the gut.
“Why?” he asked, his voice low and urgent. “Did he say why he—”
Akira cut him off with a bitter laugh, her eyes cold. “He didn’t give her a reason,” she snapped. “Just said he wasn’t interested in her anymore. No explanation. No closure. Just…done.”
Shoto’s chest tightened. That didn’t sound like Katsuki at all—at least not the version of him that Rosie had always described, the one he’d grown to respect and, in a complicated way, admire. Katsuki might be brash, but he wasn’t cruel.
Before he could ask more, Akira glanced at her phone and cursed under her breath. “I need to go,” she said briskly. “Thanks for answering my questions.”
She turned on her heel and stalked off before Shoto could get another word in.
Left standing in the doorway, Shoto’s thoughts swirled like a storm cloud. What could have happened to make Katsuki act that way? Had something gone wrong on one of his assignments? Was he trying to protect Rosie from something? Or had something in him simply snapped?
He couldn’t make sense of it, but one thing was clear: Rosie had been left to grieve alone. And that—Shoto resolved, his jaw set—was something he would not let continue. But he was determined to get some answers out of Katsuki, one way or another.
Alcohol and clubbing had become her crutches to crawl out of bed each day. It wasn’t healthy—she knew that—but it kept her from drowning in the heartbreak that clung to her like a second skin. That’s why she’d taken to spending her afternoons outside in the park with Maya. It had Every wall, every corner, every pillow still carried the echo of him and it was like a knife twisting in her chest every time she closed her eyes.
Nights were different. Nights were when the ache inside her threatened to break through, so she numbed it. She’d grab her clutch, slip on a pair of heels, and throw on a dress that made her feel just a bit more alive. Then she’d dive headfirst into the neon-lit chaos of the clubs—drinking until the music blurred, until the bodies pressed against hers became a balm for her hollow ache. She danced with strangers, smiled at boys who told her she was beautiful, let them spin her around until her head was spinning too. She didn’t care. Anything to forget how it felt to have her heart shattered—crushed like a fragile piece of glass—and left behind by the only person she had given it to fully.
She sat in the backseat of the cab, her knees pressed together, the glow of streetlights flickering across her face. She rummaged through her purse and froze. Her fingers curled around the strawberry lip gloss she used to love—the one that had become her signature, the one he’d always tasted on her lips. His kisses had always lingered with that sweet, sticky strawberry flavor mixed with the bitterness of his black coffee. The memory hit her like a gut punch.
Her hands trembled as she put the gloss back, her vision blurring momentarily. Instead, she reached for the cherry lip gloss, the one she had chosen to wear now—anything to push him from her mind. She applied it carefully, smearing it over her lips like armor, then spritzed herself with a layer of glitter spray that shimmered in the low cab light. Every inch of her skin glistened like a galaxy, like she was trying to become something otherworldly—someone that couldn’t be hurt.
She took out her phone, angling it just right to capture the glow on her face, the glitter on her shoulders, the fake smile she’d perfected. Snap. Snap. Snap. She posted them all—captionless, careless. She let the likes roll in, a poor substitute for the validation she’d once found in his eyes.
She paid the cab fare without a word, leaving a few extra bills on the seat as a tip she wouldn’t even notice was gone. The driver gave her a polite smile that she didn’t return. She stepped out of the cab and into the pulsing glow of the club. The bass vibrated beneath her feet, a living heartbeat that drowned out everything else. The neon lights blurred with the tears she refused to let fall, and she squared her shoulders and walked inside.
The music swallowed her whole, its relentless beat shaking her bones. She let it. She welcomed it. Because here, in this chaotic haze of strangers and strobe lights, she didn’t have to think about him—or the strawberry gloss—or the way he’d walked away without looking back.
Approaching the bar, Rosie let the music pulse through her veins, letting it drown out every lingering thought of him. The bartender—a tall, lean man dressed in all black—caught her eye immediately. His dark hair fell over his forehead, and his lips curved into an easy, practiced smile as he leaned across the counter.
“Hey, beautiful,” he greeted, his tone playful as he reached for a bottle of Jack Daniels. He’d learned her order by heart over the past week of her showing up at the same bar like clockwork.
She smirked, leaning in close enough that her perfume drifted over him. “Hey yourself,” she teased, her voice husky from the drinks already warming her blood.
He poured her a generous glass without needing to ask, sliding it toward her with a flourish. “Rough night?”
She shrugged, letting the glass warm her hand before downing a generous sip. The burn seared her throat—just the way she liked it. It made everything fuzzy around the edges, dulled the ache in her chest. “You could say that,” she said, her lips curling into a flirtatious grin.
He laughed and leaned in closer, just enough that the scent of his cologne—woodsy and strong—wrapped around her like a cloak. “Lucky for you, I’m off in an hour. Maybe I can keep you company.”
She giggled, her eyes sparkling with alcohol and mischief. “Careful, I might take you up on that.” She grabbed her phone, her lipstick-stained fingers fumbling slightly as she turned the camera on them. She snapped a photo of the two of them, his easy grin and her forced smile captured in the frame. She posted it on her story without a caption, letting the likes and comments roll in to fill the void.
The alcohol hit her hard and fast, the edges of the room blurring as she drank another shot—then another. The music felt like it was thrumming right through her bones now. She abandoned the bar and stumbled onto the dance floor, letting the neon lights wash over her.
Handsome strangers with confident smirks pulled her close, their hands resting at her hips, her waist, her back as they danced. She laughed too loudly, letting her head fall back, her hair swirling around her. Every grin felt like a dare; every touch like a promise of something she didn’t want. At least not from him.
She couldn’t remember how long she’d been dancing before the need to pee—and the urgent desire to fix her makeup—dragged her off the dance floor. She stumbled toward the bathroom, her heels clacking against the tile. The bright lights of the mirror made her wince, revealing smudged mascara and cherry lipstick now faded at the corners of her mouth. She re-applied it carefully, the red glitter on her cheeks catching the harsh fluorescent glare.
Her reflection stared back at her—eyes glazed, smile forced—and she hated how familiar that face had become.
She shook her head, took a deep breath, and stumbled back out into the noise, heading toward the bar for another drink. But as she rounded the corner, she nearly collided with a tall figure whose presence stopped her dead in her tracks.
Riku.
Despite the haze of alcohol, her brain registered him instantly: the black tribal tattoo beneath his eye, the way his dark hair fell across his forehead, the intense, knowing gaze that seemed to cut right through her.
She blinked, feeling unsteady on her feet. “Riku,” she slurred, her voice thick with drink and desperation. Her vision blurred slightly as she tried to focus on his face.
His eyes narrowed slightly, scanning her face for answers. “Rosie,” he murmured, his voice low and tense. There was something different in the way he held himself—his arms crossed over his chest, jaw clenched so hard she could see the muscle tick. Concern was etched in his eyes, but beneath it simmered something darker—something she’d never seen in him before.
“You need to go home where it’s safe,” he snapped, his voice sharp and authoritative, cutting through the haze of alcohol like a blade.
She recoiled slightly, blinking in surprise. “I’m fine,” she insisted, fluffing her hair, trying to reclaim the confidence she’d worn like armor all night. “Now would you like to dance with me or…?”
But Riku didn’t smile like he usually did. Instead, his gaze darted behind him, his lips curling into a snarl. “Dammit…” he hissed under his breath, as though cursing something she couldn’t see. Turning back to her, he grabbed her by the forearm, his grip tight and unyielding. “You need to come with me right now.”
“Riku…” she frowned, confused, but let herself be yanked toward the exit. She waved off the bartender from earlier, who moved to help her, his brows furrowed in concern. “What are you talking about?” she slurred, stumbling in her heels as he pulled her along like a rag doll.
The cold night air slapped her flushed face the moment they stepped outside, making her eyes water. Her head spun with the abrupt shift in temperature and the alcohol in her bloodstream.
Riku’s hand felt like iron around her wrist, his steps fast and purposeful. She struggled to keep up, her heels clicking awkwardly against the pavement as he dragged her down the street and toward the parking lot.
“Riku, you’re hurting me,” she protested, her voice small and uncertain, the fear in her chest starting to cut through the fog of intoxication.
He didn’t slow down. Instead, his eyes darted left and right, scanning every shadow, every parked car, every darkened alley.
“Just trust me, okay?” he muttered, but his tone was wrong—too harsh, too clipped, too cold. Gone was the friendly, soft-spoken Riku she’d always known. This Riku was dominant, calculating, his posture tense as if expecting an attack at any moment.
She felt panic rise in her chest. Why was he acting like this? What the hell was going on?
They reached the edge of the parking lot, its cracked pavement littered with cigarette butts and trash, the yellow streetlights casting long, ominous shadows across the ground.
She opened her mouth to ask him again—what was going on?—when the night air was split by the sharp, unmistakable crack of gunfire.
One. Two. Three shots.
Her breath caught in her throat as the sound echoed off the buildings, making her heart leap into her mouth. She felt a searing pain as she hit the ground along with Riku and all she could see was blood.
Notes:
I PAINTED THE BRICKS PINK, KISSED THEM BEFORE THROWING THEM AT YOU GUYS
anywayyyyy I hope you guys loved the chapter and will see you guys tomorrow💕
Chapter 100: She's just some girl so why was she so special?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Hawks frowned, his golden eyes sharp as he surveyed the wreckage. The overturned car was charred black from the fire and explosion, its twisted metal still smoldering in the night air. Emergency responders moved around the scene like shadows, their reflective vests catching the harsh glare of red and blue lights that danced across the intersection.
Police tape flapped in the breeze, cordoning off the destruction from onlookers who had gathered at a safe distance, their faces lit by the glow of phone screens and curiosity.
“Sir,” came a voice that pulled Hawks from his thoughts. Officer Naomasa Tsukauchi approached him, the weariness etched deep in the lines of his face, his trench coat flapping slightly as he walked. He stopped just short of Hawks and sighed heavily. “Shoto’s been sent to the hospital,” he reported, his voice rough with fatigue.
Hawks released a tight breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “That’s… something,” he muttered, the tension in his shoulders easing only slightly.
“This is going to be all over the news,” Tsukauchi said grimly, his eyes darting to the approaching swarm of news vans. Reporters were already piling out, cameras perched on their shoulders like vultures ready to feed on tragedy. Helicopters circled overhead, their bright spotlights sweeping the devastation, as if it weren’t already laid bare.
God, Hawks hated the media, always eager to dissect the worst moments of people’s lives for ratings. But not as much as he hated having to deal with the paperwork that this would involve. It was times like these he missed being in the field, missed the rush of adrenaline of saving people and fighting and capturing villains.
“So, how many are dead?” Hawks asked, his voice low.
Tsukauchi ran a hand through his own hair, “confirmed thirteen but they are still scouting the perimeter, gathering the bodies, and figuring out how many are still missing.”
“The press are going to have a field day with this one,” Hawks whistled. “So tell me what you think happened?”
“You have no idea, Sir?”
“I have a theory but I wanna hear what you think happened.”
Tsukauchi’s expression darkened. “Looks like someone tried to stage this as a hit-and-run,” he said, glancing at the wreckage.
“You don’t buy it?” Hawks asked, his wings flexing languishly.
Tsukauchi shook his head slowly, his eyes grim. “You tell me,” he said, nodding at the scene.
Hawks exhaled, the scent of burnt rubber and scorched metal thick in his nostrils. “A Pro Hero and the daughter of another Pro Hero just happen to get hit in a massive car wreck? And that’s after barely escaping a shooting at a club a couple miles away?”
His voice was heavy with disbelief, but the evidence before him spoke louder than words. The crash was no ordinary accident, several other cars had been caught in the mayhem, their frames crumpled like paper. Bloodstains darkened the cracked asphalt, dried and splattered across the scene like something out of a horror movie.
Paramedics worked frantically under the flashing lights, their voices urgent as they loaded bodies into ambulances or, in some cases, zipped them into body bags. A woman with tear-streaked cheeks clutched a paramedic’s arm, screaming for answers that no one could give her.
Civilians who had been unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time were being carried away in shrouded stretchers. Hawks’ heart clenched as he watched the bodies being wheeled off, each one a life lost, a family destroyed. The smell of blood and burnt flesh filled the air, making his stomach churn.
Tsukauchi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Someone wanted to make sure they didn’t walk away from that club tonight,” he muttered, his voice low.
Hawks clenched his jaw, his wings tensing. “Yeah,” he growled. “And now we’ve got a mess on our hands. Shoto’s nonresponsive and in the hospital, and that’s the best-case scenario. The rest of these people didn’t stand a chance.”
He glanced back at the twisted wreckage, his expression dark. “Let’s get to work.”
The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed cold and sterile, casting their harsh glow on the metal table in the center of the morgue. The air smelled of antiseptic and formaldehyde—a smell that clung to the skin and refused to let go.
Aizawa stood rigidly near the foot of the table, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, but even his hardened expression couldn’t mask the shock etched across his features. He stared at the figure on the table, a girl with pink hair fanned out like a halo around her head. Her skin was pale, nearly translucent, and ice-cold despite it being only several hours since everything happened.
Akira stood to the side, her entire body trembling as tears streamed freely down her face. She refused to look at the body, one hand clutching a tissue to her mouth as she tried and failed to suppress the sobs wracking her chest.
Hawks, his wings drooping and his usual breezy demeanor nowhere to be seen, stood beside Aizawa with his hands in his pockets. His eyes were solemn as he spoke, his voice low and strained. “She was found at the scene,” he said quietly, his gaze flicking between Aizawa and Akira. “According to the coroner’s report on Rosie, she would have died from blood loss—due to the multiple bullet wounds sustained during the shooting at the club. However, she used the last of her energy using her quirk on Shoto before she died, saving his life. She’s the only reason he survived.”
Aizawa’s lips parted, but no words came out. His eyes remained locked on Rosie’s lifeless face, disbelief warring with grief.
Akira’s cries grew louder, her shoulders shaking violently. “No… no, no, no…” She pressed her face into her hands, unable to face the truth that her best friend—the girl who had been a sister to her—lay cold and dead just feet away.
Hawks closed his eyes and sighed heavily, his own grief evident in the tight line of his jaw. His wings drooped behind him, feathers trembling with tension. For a long moment, he simply stood there, struggling to find the right words, any words at all, to comfort the others in the room. “I know,” he finally managed, his voice raw and trembling, cracking for the first time in years. “I’m so sorry, Aizawa. I’m so—”
But before he could finish, Aizawa’s head snapped up. His dark, bloodshot eyes burned with a fury Hawks hadn’t seen in a long time. “No.” Aizawa’s voice was low and lethal. “That’s not her. That’s not my daughter.”
Hawks tried to reach out, his hand hesitating in the air. “Aizawa—”
But Aizawa had already spun on his heel, his boots echoing like gunshots on the cold tile floor as he stormed toward the door. His long scarf whipped behind him like a living thing, a snake of raw emotion and rage.
“Aizawa, wait—” Hawks lunged forward, his wings stretching wide in a desperate attempt to block his friend’s path. “Listen to me—”
But Aizawa’s face was a mask of anguish and denial. “That’s not her!” he shouted, voice cracking and eyes shining with unshed tears. “My daughter isn’t dead. She’s not—” His voice broke entirely, and a strangled sound escaped him, half a sob, half a roar of pain.
Hawks’ breath hitched, his own eyes stinging. “Please—”
But Aizawa had already shoved past him, the door slamming open so hard it rattled the hinges. “She’s not dead!” he roared, his voice echoing down the sterile hallway. “She’s not dead, do you hear me?! She’s not—!”
He kept shouting, his voice growing fainter with every step until it vanished into a muffled echo in the distance.
Hawks stood there, his wings trembling and his heart breaking. He turned back to Akira, who was collapsed against the cold metal table, her sobs now uncontrollable. She clutched at her chest like she was trying to hold her heart in, her tears pooling on the sterile floor.
“Goddamn it…” he whispered, his voice hoarse. He felt the weight of his failure pressing down on him like a mountain. And though his wings were strong, in that moment, they felt heavier than lead.
Shoto’s eyes snapped open, the sterile white of the hospital ceiling above him spinning for a brief moment. His body ached with every breath, his chest rising and falling unevenly, a dull pain pulsing at his side where bandages were hastily wrapped. His head throbbed, an iron band tightening around his skull, and the smell of antiseptic filled his nose.
Monitors beeped steadily by his side, a harsh reminder that he was alive—and that Rosie…
“Rosie!” he shouted, bolting upright in bed. Pain lanced through his ribs and abdomen like fire, but he ignored it, the panic in his chest far greater than any physical agony.
He clawed at the wires and IV lines hooked into his arms, tearing them out one by one. Blood trickled from the places the needles had been, but he didn’t care. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, ignoring the wave of dizziness that nearly sent him crashing to the floor.
“ROSIE!” he screamed again, his voice hoarse.
The door swung open with a quiet click. Dr. Merialeth, dressed in her usual white coat, stepped in, her calm eyes narrowing at the sight of him mid-escape. She held his chart in her hands, looking both impressed and exasperated. “Mr. Todoroki,” she said, her tone dry but firm, “you should be careful. You suffered a severe concussion, smoke inhalation damage to your lungs, three gunshot wounds, and glass shards embedded in your abdomen. I don’t recommend pulling your IV lines out like that.”
He glared at her, his breathing ragged. “How… am I even alive?” he rasped, his eyes wild with disbelief.
She glanced down at his chart. “By all rights, you shouldn’t be,” she said bluntly. “Your body should have gone into shock and shut down from the trauma. But…” She paused, her eyes meeting his. “I believe Rosie used her quirk on you. It’s the only explanation for how you healed so quickly.”
His mind reeled. Rosie… even in the middle of a catastrophe, she’d used her precious energy to save him.
“How long?” he demanded. “How long have I been here?”
She flipped the chart closed. “You were admitted only a little over twelve hours ago. You’ve been stable since then—miraculously stable, I might add.”
He swung his legs the rest of the way off the bed, ignoring the pain and ignoring the IV poles crashing to the floor. “I need to see Hawks,” he said urgently. “Now.”
Dr. Merialeth sighed but nodded. “If you insist on leaving against medical advice, I’ll allow it but you must return for a check-up as soon as possible. You’re not fully healed, and any wrong move could make matters worse.”
“Deal,” he said, grabbing the hospital gown and nearly ripping it as he pulled it tighter around his chest. He extended his hand for his phone.
She handed it over with a resigned look. “Call me if you feel faint or if any wounds open up.”
“I will,” he said, clutching the phone with trembling fingers. He shot out of the room, his mind a blur of adrenaline and pain.
He scrolled through his contacts, found Hawks’ number, and pressed call. The line rang twice before the Pro Hero’s calm voice answered.
“You’re awake?” Hawks asked, concern evident.
“It’s Shoto,” he said breathlessly. “We need to meet. Now. I have to speak with you.”
“Where are you?”
“Leaving the hospital.”
“Stay put. I’m on my way.”
He had just gotten outside the hospital when he finally felt like he could breathe. The air hit his lungs in a harsh rush, and he coughed, his chest tight, his ribs aching with every breath. Rosie shouldn’t have been able to heal him, not in the state she’d been in before he blacked out. The memory was a haze of pain and darkness, yet he could still feel the warmth of her hands on his skin, the tremble in her voice as she forced him to stay alive.
Leaning heavily against the hospital building, Shoto pressed a hand to his chest and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to piece together the fragments of that night. The smell of gasoline, the car’s twisted metal frame crushing around them, the screaming, the gunshots. Rosie’s tear-streaked face, those wide, terrified eyes and the way she kissed him, her lips trembling as her quirk flooded into him, warm and bright, even as the darkness threatened to swallow them both. He could still taste cherry lipgloss.
A familiar voice broke through his thoughts. “Shoto!”
He jerked his head up, eyes blurry and unfocused, and saw Hawks drop to the ground in front of him, not in his usual graceful manner before walking toward him, wings drooping with exhaustion, his suit disheveled. The former hero’s face was drawn and pale, his golden eyes filled with an uncharacteristic sadness.
“Hawks,” Shoto rasped, his voice hoarse. “Rosie—”
Hawks exhaled heavily, his brow furrowing. “Kid…”
Shoto pushed himself off the wall, staggering forward, his chest heaving. “We have to find her! Before it’s too late—”
But Hawks only shook his head, his expression crumpling as his wings lowered completely. “Shoto,” he said, voice low and strained, “we already found her.”
Shoto’s stomach dropped, his world narrowing to the sound of his own ragged breathing. “What…?”
“She—” Hawks’s voice cracked, and he scrubbed a hand down his face. “She died at the scene. The medics said she was gone before they even got there.”
Shoto’s head shook in disbelief, eyes wide, his lips parting in a silent plea. “No…” he whispered, his voice breaking. “No, that’s—she—”
Hawks swallowed, his wings trembling. “She’s at the morgue back at the station.”
But Shoto barely heard him. His mind was spinning with the smell of gasoline, the iron tang of blood, and Rosie’s tearful eyes. He remembered the way she’d clutched him, her face pale and streaked with sweat and blood, her voice breaking as she pressed her lips to his. The way he’d felt his body grow warm as her quirk took over, knitting his wounds back together even as the car’s roof caved in around them.
Her lips had moved, forming words he couldn’t hear over the ringing in his ears. He’d reached for her, but the car had been upside down, smoke and fire filling the air, sulfur stinging his nose. Everything else was a blur after that. God, his head hurt.
Now, standing in the cold hospital parking lot, Shoto felt the grief settle in, a heavy, crushing weight pressing down on his chest. His vision blurred with tears he refused to let fall, but he couldn’t stop the trembling of his hands.
“Rosie…” he whispered, his voice cracking as he clutched his chest, feeling the phantom warmth of her hands on his skin.
“She saved me,” he said hoarsely, eyes locked on Hawks’s pained expression. “She… she saved me…”
Hawks stepped forward, his face drawn, his wings drooping in shared grief. “I know, kid,” he said softly, his voice trembling with guilt and sorrow.
After Shoto had returned to the hospital to get checked out, Hawks had headed back to the station, already bracing himself for the grim debriefings that lay ahead. He’d barely had time to breathe before he’d grabbed a cup of coffee from the vending machine, its bitter heat offering a small, meager comfort against the weight of everything that had happened.
He had just stepped into the conference room when the TV screen on the wall caught his eye.
“Newly Minted Pro Hero Shoto Todoroki is the only confirmed survivor of the bombing that claimed the lives of so many, including the daughter of Pro Hero Eraserhead, Rosie Takahashi,” the news anchor announced solemnly. A photo of Rosie appeared on the screen—a bright, smiling girl with pink hair and a spark in her blue eyes.
Hawks’s chest tightened, and the coffee suddenly tasted like ash on his tongue. Memories of the crime scene slammed into him unbidden: the scorched wreckage of the car, the smell of burning flesh and sulfur clinging to the night air, blood soaking into the asphalt in horrifying pools.
The room felt too small, too bright, too sterile, the hum of fluorescent lights turning into a roar in his ears. He closed his eyes, jaw tight, and took a slow breath, the weight of guilt and grief pressing on his shoulders like iron.
An hour later, Shoto arrived. He was pale and silent, his eyes rimmed red from unshed tears, his hair disheveled and his clothes still smelling faintly of smoke. He said nothing as he entered, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, his movements mechanical like he was sleepwalking through a nightmare.
“Shoto,” Hawks said gently, but the young hero just gave a numb nod, sinking into a chair across from him.
They were preparing to take his statement, officers moving around quietly, the click of keyboards and shuffling of papers filling the room with an uneasy tension—when a sudden commotion erupted down the hallway. Shouts and the crash of furniture echoed through the station, a muffled roar of chaos that instantly set every officer on edge.
Hawks’s wings snapped open, his feathers bristling. He turned to one of the officers. “What the hell is that?!”
The officer barely had time to respond before Shoto shot to his feet, his eyes wide with horror and something close to rage. Without a word, he bolted down the hallway, Hawks close on his heels.
They rounded the corner just in time to see Shoto and Katsuki in a tangle of limbs and fists, both shouting over one another, the air crackling with heat and raw emotion. Officers scrambled to pull them apart, but the two Pro Heroes were locked in a desperate fight.
“Damn it, you bastard!” Katsuki roared, his voice ragged, his hair a wild mess.
Shoto’s face contorted with anguish, his hands trembling. “It’s all your fault!” His voice cracked, raw and broken. “She’s dead because of us! Because of you—” His voice gave out then, choked by a sob he refused to let fall, his eyes wild and glistening with tears he couldn’t hide anymore.
Hawks lunged forward, wings flaring, feathers slicing the air as he forced himself between the two of them. “Enough!” he shouted, shoving them apart with a strength that belied his lean frame. “That’s enough, both of you!”
Shoto slumped backward, his chest heaving with ragged breaths, eyes filled with a grief so deep it threatened to swallow him whole. He stared at Katsuki like he was seeing him for the first time, the pain in his eyes raw and unforgiving.
Katsuki, his own chest rising and falling rapidly, glared back at him, fists still clenched. “She isn’t dead so why the fuck is it being announced to the entire world that she is?!” His voice was hoarse, every word spat out like a blade.
Akira, her eyes puffy and red, stalked toward Katsuki, her rage a living, breathing thing. Without warning, she slapped him across the face so hard his head snapped to the side. “You bastard!” she screamed. “How fucking dare you pretend like you give a shit about her when you—”
Hawks quickly stepped in, placing a firm hand over her mouth, his eyes sharp with warning. “Not here,” he said, voice low but firm, his own grief held in check by sheer force of will.
Katsuki wiped at his cheek where Akira had hit him, ignoring her glare completely. “Lemme see her body,” he spat, his voice tight with anger and desperation.
The room went still. Hawks nodded, resigned. “Fine. Let’s go,” he said, his voice rough.
Together, the four of them made their way down to the morgue, a silent, suffocating walk. The hum of fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, echoing off the sterile white walls. The smell of antiseptic mixed with the cold, lifeless chill of the place, making every step feel like walking through a graveyard. They reached the end of the hallway where a sheet-covered body lay on a metal table under the harsh glare of a fluorescent light. Hawks exchanged a solemn look with the attending coroner before nodding, signaling them to leave.
Katsuki stalked forward, his boots heavy on the tile, his expression hard and unyielding. He didn’t hesitate, he grabbed the sheet and yanked it back, revealing the woman’s pale, cold face. Her pink hair splayed across the table, her skin ghostly under the harsh lights.
Akira let out a choked sob and turned into Shoto’s chest, trembling violently. Shoto wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly, his own eyes wet with unshed tears.
Hawks watched them both, his jaw set and his wings folded tight against his back. He turned to Katsuki, whose eyes were narrowed like a hawk’s, scanning every inch of the body.
“This isn’t Rosie,” Katsuki said after a tense silence, his voice low but certain.
Hawks blinked, caught off guard. “What?” he demanded.
Katsuki’s jaw twitched. “She’s missing a tattoo.”
Hawks’s brows drew together. “Her butterfly tattoo on her hip? Her scar on her abdomen? Her birthmarks? They’re all accounted for—including that small star on her right shoulder blade,” he said, ticking them off with a frown.
Katsuki’s eyes hardened. “Yeah, but she had two tattoos,” he shot back, his tone icy. He turned to Akira, who was still sobbing in Shoto’s arms. “Akira,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind, “you can back me up on this.”
Akira sniffed, eyes wide and glassy, and nodded hesitantly. “Y-Yeah,” she whispered.
“Check for yourself,” Katsuki ordered, gesturing at the body.
Akira hesitated, but then she slowly stepped forward, her trembling hands lifting the sheet further, her eyes searching every inch. Her breath hitched and then she gasped, tears streaming down her face. “Katsuki’s right,” she whispered hoarsely. “She’s missing it.”
Hawks’s eyes narrowed. “Missing what? Where was it supposed to be?”
Akira’s voice cracked. “She had a small dragon tattoo curled around an initial, the letter K. It was… it was under her left breast.”
"How could they have missed it?" Shoto finally spoke up
"It was a secret," Akira looked towards Katsuki. "The only people who knew were the two of us, Rosie and the tattoo artist. She got it not too long after she had been stabbed."
Katsuki’s fists clenched at his sides. “Rosie isn’t dead,” he growled. “Whoever the hell took her, they went to a lot of fucking trouble to make this woman look like Rosie. To ensure that she was dead, so no one would go looking for her.”
Hawks’s face paled as he stared at the body on the table, the implications crashing over him like a tidal wave. “Damn it,” he breathed. “Damn it.”
The three of them all turned to Shoto, who stared at them, unblinking and slightly confused. "What?"
Akira swallowed thickly, "you need to tell us exactly what happened before you collapsed."
"It's still a bit hazy," Shoto cleared his throat. "But I'll do my best."
Pain seared through the back of her head asit slammed against the cement ground, and Rosie hissed in agony, the breath knocked clean out of her. Every nerve in her shoulder screamed, and when she looked over, her stomach turned. Riku was lying just a foot away, blood pouring from a bullet wound in his abdomen and another in his leg. She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol from the club or the adrenaline numbing the pain of her own wound. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to crawl toward him, desperate to help. “Riku…?” she croaked, voice trembling.
His glazed eyes fluttered open. “Rosie!” Her head snapped up as she heard Shoto’s voice, a note of panic she’d never heard before. He was in sweatpants and a t-shirt, hair tousled, sprinting across the parking lot littered with broken glass and bullet casings. The ringing in her ears faded into the background, replaced by the chaotic screams and shouts of people running from the club. Shoto skidded to a stop beside them and crouched down, his breath ragged. “Hold on—let me help you,” he said, supporting her as she tried to stand.
She stumbled, her vision swimming, but managed to get to her feet, leaning heavily on him. She reached Riku, clutching his trembling hand. She kissed the back of it, her lips trembling as she activated her quirk. Light and warmth pulsed into his wounds, sealing them shut.
Riku gasped, relief flooding his eyes. “Rosie…”
Shoto’s expression was grave. “We need to get you out of here, now,” he said firmly, his eyes darting to the panicked crowd.
Rosie turned, exhaustion clawing at her, but her voice was steady. “Riku, come with us, please.”
Riku shook his head. “I can’t. My brother’s still inside. I have to find him. Go—just go.”
“Riku—”
Gunshots cracked in the air again, making Rosie flinch. More people poured from the club, screaming.
Riku’s eyes hardened. “Pro Heroes will show up. Just go!”
Shoto didn’t hesitate; he grabbed Rosie’s hand and half-carried her toward his car parked near the back. He opened the door and gently but firmly pushed her inside before sliding into the driver’s seat.
“You shouldn’t be healing yourself,” he snapped, his own worry painted all over his face. “You already used your quirk on Riku—you’re in no condition to keep this up and you’re not sober enough.”
Rosie’s head lolled back against the seat, her vision swimming as Shoto started the car and peeled out of the lot. She tried to force herself to sober up, to think straight, but her head felt heavy. She reached for her phone in a trembling hand, desperate to text her dad, he’d know what to do, but before she could unlock the screen, a deafening explosion rocked the night. At the four-way intersection ahead, a cluster of cars were instantly engulfed in flames as bombs went off one after another—metal twisted and screeched, tires screeched, glass shattered. The road split with fire and debris as cars were launched into the air like toys, burning bright.
“Shoto—!” Rosie screamed, eyes wide as horror gripped her.
Shoto slammed on the brakes, but the shockwave hit them hard. Their car went airborne, metal shrieking as they spun in midair. Rosie’s scream was cut off as the car landed upside down with a sickening crunch.
Darkness.
Groaning, Rosie’s eyes fluttered open, her body still strapped into the seat. Everything was upside down. The acrid scent of gasoline and burning metal filled her nose—her stomach lurched at the smell of blood and burnt flesh. She gagged, struggling against the seatbelt. “Shoto—” she whispered, voice hoarse. Her eyes darted to him—he was slumped against the cracked window, glass shards embedded in his abdomen, a large gash across his head, blood oozing down his face.
“No… no no no…” she whimpered, her shaking fingers reaching for him. “Shoto—wake up—we need to get out of the car—”
Her plea was cut short by the sound of heavy boots crunching over broken glass, deliberate, unhurried. Her heart pounded as a dark shape loomed on Shoto’s side. A gunshot cracked through the night, and Shoto jerked as the bullet tore through his shoulder—his blood spattered across Rosie’s cheek and chest.
“SHOTO!” Rosie screamed, panic and anguish tearing at her throat. Tears blurred her vision as she clutched his face, forcing her trembling fingers to bring his face close to hers. She couldn’t hear the words through the ringing in her ears, but her lips found his by accident, meant for his cheek, but too dizzy, too frantic and she kissed him on the mouth, her tears mixing with his blood. Through her kiss, she activated her quirk again, even though it hurt. Light spread through him as she poured every last drop of her energy into closing the wounds.
He groaned, eyelids fluttering.
“Please,” she sobbed, voice cracking. “You need to get help. Please—”
Before she could say another word, a hand fisted her hair and yanked her violently out of the car. Her fingers clawed at the asphalt, leaving bloody streaks as her fingernails wearing ripped off as she shrieked for Shoto. “SHOTO—!”
She watched as his eyes snapped open, wild with horror as he stumbled from the wreckage, freezing the ground beneath his feet to catch up to her. But before he could reach her—BOOM. Another bomb detonated. Shoto was thrown like a rag doll into the night air, his body crashing onto the concrete. He didn’t move. Rosie’s scream was raw and broken as she was dragged away. She twisted, straining to see him—but a blow to the side of her head sent everything black.
Bleary-eyed, Rosie blinked awake, her vision swimming as though she’d been underwater for hours. The pounding in her head was a relentless drumbeat, each throb a reminder of the hangover that made her stomach lurch. Her mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton—dry, sticky, and sour.
Her body ached everywhere, a deep, bruising soreness that went beyond the hangover. She recognized it instantly—an aftereffect of using her quirk too much. She’d felt this way before, too many times to count: sluggish, weak, like every muscle had been dipped in lead. But this time felt worse than usual. She tried to lift a hand to rub her temples, to at least try to bring her focus back, but found she couldn’t move her arms.
A jolt of panic seized her chest. She lifted her gaze, forcing her eyes to focus. Both her arms were chained above her head, the cold steel biting into her raw wrists. Her entire upper body was stretched just enough to make her muscles ache even more, her back arching uncomfortably. She followed the chains up to where they met a heavy hook embedded in the ceiling.
What the hell? She's just some girl so why was she so special? Why had he kidnapped her and not killed her like he said he would?
Her heart raced, the panic intensifying as she took in the room around her, a cramped, windowless space with nothing but bare walls, a single wooden door, and a cold concrete floor. There were no sounds, no muffled voices, no footsteps, just the pounding of her head and the rasp of her breath.
Her stomach twisted as she realized she was still in the heels and the tight, black dress from the night before, streaked with blood and dirt. The hem was torn, her legs were littered with scratches, bruises and ash. Her ankles were free, but her arms. She tugged at the chains, testing them, but they didn’t budge. A wave of helplessness washed over her. She tried again, her teeth gritted, but the chains only rattled.
No. She refused to give up.
Closing her eyes, she focused on the pain, on the bullet wound that she hadn’t fully healed yet, the searing in her side, the bruises, the cuts. With trembling concentration, she activated her quirk, a soft glow pulsing from her skin. It spread warmth through her battered body, closing up some of the smaller scrapes and bruises, dulling the worst of the pain. But the bigger wounds, the bullet wound especially remained half-healed. She simply didn’t have enough energy left to finish.
She sagged against the chains, exhausted, head drooping. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She felt so alone.
Suddenly, the metal handle on the wooden door rattled. Rosie’s breath caught in her throat, and she forced her heavy eyelids open. Every muscle in her body tensed as adrenaline surged through her, her pulse hammering in her ears.
The handle turned slowly, deliberately, sending a jolt of panic straight through her chest. She could barely breathe. Then, a sudden, deafening gunshot split the silence. Rosie jerked violently, the chains above her clanking as she pressed herself back against the cold, rough stone wall. She stared, wide-eyed, at the bottom of the door. A dark, thick pool of blood began to ooze from beneath the small gap where the door met the floor, spreading in a slow, unstoppable tide.
Her breath hitched, a whimper caught in her throat. She was frozen in place, unable to tear her eyes away from the red pool inching closer. The iron tang of it reached her nose, mixing with the metallic scent of her own blood and the sweat on her skin.
She heard a heavy, wet thud on the other side of the door, like a body hitting the floor. Then, the sound of something being dragged, the dull scrape of boots on stone. A low groan of pain followed, muffled by the thick walls.
Her vision blurred as the blood seeped further into the room. The sounds outside felt like they were underwater, distant, echoing in her pounding head. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion that made her limbs feel like lead. Her eyelids drooped, heavy and uncooperative. She tried to fight it, but her head slumped forward. The last thing she heard was the dragging sound fading, the man’s groans turning into a gurgle. The darkness crept in, smothering the fear, until sleep finally claimed her.
Notes:
Omg 100 chapters. thank you to my lovely readers for sharing this huge milestone with me💕
Secondly, not only did I kiss the brick, but they are painted pink, wrapped with bows and have been sprinkled with glitter before I chucked them at your faces😁
Thirdly, it only gets worse from here and kudos to those who noticed that little detail with Akira last chapter. Girlie knows a lot that she’s been keeping quiet about👀 and I do hope you guys catch h the little details in this chapter too🙂↕️
Anyway, I hope you guys love the chapter and please let me know your thoughts and see you guys tomorrow❤️
Chapter 101: God, doll, I love you so much. I’m so sorry.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Hawks stared Katsuki down from across the polished desk, his expression unreadable but firm. The once-carefree glint that usually lived in his golden eyes was nowhere to be found today. Now, they were sharp and calculating, full of the weight that came with a job far darker than most people realized.
“The DNA didn’t match anyone in our system,” Hawks said finally, voice even. “So we’ve sent it to the States for further testing. They’ve got a more comprehensive archive for cold cases and international threats.”
Katsuki’s fingers curled into fists at his sides. “How long will that take?”
“Two weeks. Maybe less if they push it up the priority chain.” Hawks leaned back slightly in his chair, eyes still locked on him. “In the meantime, we’ve been doing some behavioral profiling and surveillance analysis. Our conclusion… is that the stalker won’t make a move on Rosie for a while.”
Katsuki frowned. “And why’s that?”
“Because you’re around,” Hawks said, matter-of-fact. “He’s been watching. He knows you’re with her.”
Katsuki’s jaw tensed, something primal flickering in his chest. “We’re not dating.”
Hawks gave him a flat, unimpressed look. “Save it for someone who doesn’t have a file on you the size of a brick. You forget—I was a spy before I was a pro, and I was damn good at my job. I see through posturing, Bakugou.”
Katsuki didn’t respond, teeth grinding, heart thudding.
“This guy,” Hawks continued, folding his hands in front of him, “he’s not going to act while you’re playing bodyguard. He’s obsessive, sure, but he’s calculating. That’s the danger. He wants to get to her without interference. Which means if you want to catch him, you have to give him the illusion that the coast is clear.”
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous gleam sparking to life in their depths. “What the hell are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying,” Hawks said carefully, weighing every word, “you need to break up with Rosie. Publicly enough that he’ll see it. Believably enough that he’ll think she’s vulnerable again.”
The words dropped like lead in the air between them, heavy and cold.
Katsuki’s jaw tightened, his knuckles turning white where they gripped the table. Then, his voice dropped into a low, menacing growl. “No.”
Hawks met his glare head-on, unflinching. “I’m not giving you a choice, Katsuki.”
The tension snapped. Katsuki stood so abruptly that the metal chair behind him clattered to the floor. His chest heaved as anger rolled off him in waves, crackling like a live wire. “You think I’m gonna just throw her to the wolves?” he shouted, his voice shaking with barely controlled fury. “That I’ll leave her alone while some sick bastard watches from the shadows, waiting for his moment? Fuck that.”
His vision blurred at the edges, sweat beading at his temples as his rage boiled over. Memories of middle school—pushing people away, lashing out—flooded his mind. His hands trembled with the desire to punch something, to do something other than just stand there like a puppet.
He clenched his fists, the air around him sparking with the beginnings of a quirk-fueled explosion. “I’m not that kid anymore,” he spat. “I’m not gonna be the reason she gets hurt. I won’t.”
Hawks stood his ground, though he took a wary step back, wings partially flared in instinctive defense. His expression hardened. “Listen to me, Dynamight.” He used Katsuki’s hero name deliberately, forcing him to focus. “This is the best course of action. You know how these bastards think—they want to exploit any weakness they can. If he thinks she’s single, vulnerable, hurting, he’ll let his guard down. It’s the same strategy we used with Best Jeanist—faked his death to get the League of Villains to allow me into their ranks. It worked then, and it’ll work now.”
Katsuki’s mouth twisted into a snarl, his teeth bared. “That was different,” he hissed. “Jeanist knew the plan—he chose that. Rosie didn’t choose this.” His voice cracked, but he didn’t let the tears come. He’d be damned if he let them see him cry.
“Katsuki,” Hawks said, his voice softer but no less firm. “If you love her—and I know you do—this is how you protect her. You can’t be with her every second of the day. But you can make him think she’s alone. That’s how we catch him. That’s how we keep her safe.”
For a moment, Katsuki’s shoulders slumped, his breath ragged. He stared at the ground, the war waging in his head plain on his face. Then he lifted his head, eyes burning with defiance and pain. “She’s gonna hate me,” he whispered hoarsely. “And I’m gonna hate myself.”
Hawks placed a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe,” he said softly. “But she’ll be alive.”
Katsuki stared at him, trembling with rage and helplessness, his heart pounding like a war drum. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, voice breaking. “Fuck, fine. But if anything happens to her—anything—I’ll kill him. And then I’ll kicking your ass.”
Hawks only nodded, his own eyes shadowed with guilt. “Fair enough, but know that I don’t like this plan either. You think I want to manipulate people like this? I hate it, Bakugou. But we have no leads. No names. No face. We need him to make a mistake. And the only way to do that is to lower his guard.”
Katsuki's stomach twisted. Just the thought of looking into Rosie’s eyes and telling her he didn’t want her anymore—of seeing her face crumble, of hearing her cry when he was the reason—made him physically ill.
His voice was tight. “She’s been through enough.”
“I know.” Hawks softened, just a little. “I know she has. But this might be the only way to keep her alive. And you can't tell her the truth. If you tip her off, even a little, it might spook him. He’ll go underground again. Or worse—he’ll act out of desperation.”
Katsuki looked away, his shoulders trembling with restraint. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The image of Rosie crying into Shoto’s chest after the box had been delivered was seared into his memory. Now he was supposed to be the one to break her?
“She’ll thank you later,” Hawks said quietly. “When this is over. When she’s safe.”
The silence that followed was thick. Suffocating. “Fine,” Katsuki muttered eventually. “Tell me what I need to do.”
And as he sat back down, shoulders slumped and heart breaking, he felt like he was handing over his soul. But he promised that he would do anything to protect her right? That is what he agreed to.
He retched and retched into the toilet, his stomach heaving with each wave of nausea. The bile burned his throat, but it was nothing compared to the searing pain in his chest. He couldn’t shake the look she’d given him when he said the words—her eyes, wide and shining, brimming with disbelief and heartbreak. The way her lips had trembled. The way she’d broke down in tears. How she reached for him and begged for him to tell her what she did wrong. He’d seen heroes and villains cry before—he’d even made them cry. But this was different. This was Rosie.
The memory clung to him like oil, refusing to be scrubbed away no matter how many times he splashed cold water on his face. He gripped the edge of the sink so hard the porcelain threatened to crack beneath his fingers. He squeezed his eyes shut, his chest heaving with ragged breaths, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead.
“Fucking bastard,” he spat at his own reflection, hating the man who stared back at him.
After he’d cleaned himself up, he stormed out of the bathroom, his boots thudding heavily against the floor as he made his way to the station. The hallways blurred around him, a tunnel of white lights and muffled voices. He found Hawks just outside the main conference room, holding a stack of papers with that same tired, guarded look he always wore.
Without hesitation, Katsuki stalked right up to him and, with every ounce of rage and betrayal boiling in his veins, swung his fist hard across Hawks’s face. The impact cracked the air, Hawks stumbling back, papers scattering like leaves in the wind.
“I did it,” Katsuki snarled, his voice low and trembling. “Happy now?”
Blood welled at the corner of Hawks’s lip as he stared at him with quiet understanding. But Katsuki didn’t wait for a reply. He turned on his heel and stalked out, fists clenched so tightly his nails cut into his palms.
He barely registered the walk to his car, the way the air hit his face, or the hum of the engine as he drove. His mind was a haze of anger and pain. When he finally reached his apartment, he shoved the door open, only to be slammed with her scent—roses, rainwater, the lingering sweetness of her perfume. Her jacket hung by the door. Her slippers were by the couch. Everything screamed of her presence, of the warmth she’d brought into his life.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice breaking as his vision blurred. He staggered forward, one hand on the wall, the other trembling. Every step felt like stepping on broken glass, every breath laced with guilt and shame.
He’d hurt her. He’d broken her heart. And for what? To catch some sick bastard? Self-loathing pooled in his gut like acid. He hated himself—hated—for doing this to her.
“Goddammit,” he whispered hoarsely, raking a trembling hand through his hair as he sank to his knees on the living room floor.
He’d never forgive himself for this.
Katsuki’s chest felt like it was caving in, each breath coming in ragged, broken gasps. He collapsed onto the floor, his head hanging between his knees as memories of Rosie’s face replayed in his mind like a relentless film reel.
Her eyes. God, those eyes. Wide, shimmering with tears that spilled down her cheeks. The way her lips trembled as she tried to form words—words he’d cut off with that sharp, cold edge in his own voice. He’d seen her fall to her knees, hands reaching out for him as though she could pull him back, but he’d turned away. He’d walked away, leaving her there with her heart shattered at his feet.
“Shit,” he choked, his hand trembling as it dug into the carpet. He could still feel her fingers brushing his skin, warm and soft and desperate.
His stomach twisted violently, bile rising in his throat. He staggered to his feet and stumbled to the bathroom, slamming the door open and barely making it to the toilet before he vomited. The retching was harsh and unrelenting, each heave bringing up nothing but the bitter taste of regret.
He coughed, his hands clutching the edge of the toilet bowl like a lifeline. His forehead pressed against the cold porcelain as sweat dripped from his temples. His entire body was trembling.
He scowled, his face contorting with self-loathing. “Fucking coward,” he hissed, his voice hoarse and raw.
He squeezed his eyes shut, but it didn’t stop the images from playing in his head—Rosie on her knees, the tears in her eyes, the way her voice cracked when she called his name. Every detail stabbed into him like a knife, cutting deeper than any villain ever had.
“Damn it,” he growled, slamming his fist into the tiled wall and shattering it and leaving a large hole. “Damn it all!”
His heart felt like it had shattered into a million pieces, each one cutting him from the inside. He’d hurt her—more than any villain, more than any enemy—and he hated himself for it.
“I’m sorry doll,” he whispered, but there was no one to hear it.
His chest was tight, so tight it felt like he couldn’t breathe. He pressed a trembling hand over his heart, trying to hold the pieces together. But it was no use. He felt sick, utterly sick, the guilt and shame clawing at him with every ragged breath. He’d done what he thought he had to. But it didn’t make it any easier. It didn’t make it right. And it sure as hell didn’t make the pain go away.
The apartment door creaked open, the night air whispering in like an apology. Katsuki eased his way in, barely daring to breathe as the familiar scent of her—rainwater, roses and berries—hit him like a gut punch. He shut the door quietly, the lock clicking like a guilty confession.
His eyes adjusted to the dim light, and he grimaced. The place was a mess—pillows tossed, blankets tangled, dishes in the sink from nights she hadn’t felt like cooking. On the small table, tissues were scattered like white confetti, remnants of the tears she’d shed in the first week after he broke her.
He hated himself for every second of it.
Moving through the room, he finally reached her bedroom. The sight made his chest seize. Rosie was curled up in bed, his oversized black hoodie swallowing her small frame. She hadn’t even changed out of it in days, the cuffs stained with tears. Maya, perched at the edge of the bed, tail wagging before she padded over and jumped into his lap, rubbing her head under his hand like she’d been waiting for him.
He gently scratched Maya behind the ears and sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. His hand trembled as he reached out, brushing a lock of hair from Rosie’s face. Even in sleep, she looked fragile—eyes puffy, lips slightly parted. He pressed a trembling kiss to her forehead.
God, he was the worst kind of bastard.
Seeing her like this—clutching his old sweater like it was a lifeline, wearing the scent of him even now—made his stomach twist with a loathing so deep it felt like acid. He’d done this to her. He’d broken her heart so thoroughly that even sleep couldn’t hide the pain from her.
Gently, he slipped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. She didn’t stir—she wouldn’t for a while, not after the panic attack that had stolen her strength and left her sedated.
He rested his chin on her head, his fingers tangling in her hair.
“When this is all over,” he whispered, voice cracking. “When it’s safe—I’ll come crawling back to you. I’ll get down on my knees and beg, whine, do anything you need. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that I’m the only one for you, that you’re the only one for me.”
He closed his eyes, pressing her tighter to his chest. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice a broken prayer in the darkness. “God, doll, I love you so much. I’m so sorry.”
She didn’t wake. She wouldn’t. And that was the only mercy left to him tonight.
Two weeks since he’d broken up with the only woman he needed to spend the rest of his life with—and every single fucking day since then had been nothing short of torture. It wasn’t just the emotional wreckage or the constant ache in his chest; it was the way every part of him—body, mind, soul—felt hollow, like he’d carved out the best part of himself and left it bleeding on the ground.
It was bad enough that he hadn’t seen her, hadn’t heard her voice or felt her touch. But what really killed him—what made his blood boil and his stomach twist in knots—was watching her post on Linked night after night. Drinks in hand. Some goddamn stranger’s arm around her waist. Her in some tight, sexy dress that made him want to throw his phone across the room. Every photo felt like a slap in the face.
She smiled in those photos, too. The kind of smile that used to light up his world, the one that made his heart skip a beat every single time. But now? Now he could see right through it. Those big, beautiful, doe eyes—always glittering and shining like the goddamn stars themselves—looked dull. Dead. Cold.
And that was the part that pissed him off the most. Because he’d done that to her.
His jaw clenched, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the counter so hard it felt like it might crack. He’d broken her heart, shattered it into a million pieces, and now she was trying to glue it back together by losing herself in clubs and parties and strangers. And it was all his fucking fault.
Every time he saw her in those photos—her eyes rimmed red, her smile trembling just enough that he knew she’d been crying before the camera went off—he wanted to storm into that club, grab her, and never let her go. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was, how much he hated himself for what he’d done, how he’d never forgive himself for making her look so empty and sad.
He wanted to scream at the world for letting her get to that point.
But more than anything, he wanted to scream at himself. Because this—this broken, fragile, distant version of Rosie—was his fault. His.
And every night, he found himself wishing he’d never listened to Hawks. Because even if she’d been in danger, he’d rather die fighting than watch her turn into a shell of the woman he loved.
Everything felt like a goddamn chore these days. Even this assignment Hawks had thrown his way—some bullshit recon mission in Fukushima that was supposed to “get him out of Tokyo for a bit”—felt like salt in the wound. Like being in new surroundings was supposed to make him forget what he’d done. Like some rural province was going to make him forget the look on her face when he’d broken her heart.
Hawks could fucking shove it.
Every day since then felt like a living hell. The countryside was beautiful, sure—lush rice paddies stretching into the horizon, sunflowers lining the roads—but none of it meant anything without her. Every breath felt like it scraped against his ribs. Every sunrise was just another day without Rosie.
He’d been holed up in a rented apartment, staring blankly at his phone more than he cared to admit. Right now, he was scrolling through photos of her—her laughter, her warm smile, her hair cascading down in soft waves, that glimmer in her eyes that made his heart race.
His thumb hovered over her contact. The call button glared back at him like a challenge. He swallowed thickly, his pulse pounding in his ears. All he had to do was press the button, hear her voice, even if it was to tell him to go to hell.
“Fuck…” he whispered, thumb trembling.
His finger was just about to press when his phone buzzed.
Spikey Hair—Kirishima.
A link.
Curiosity—or dread—drove him to open it. His screen filled with breaking news headlines, photos of Rosie and Shoto Todoroki in the chaos of some club shooting. The footage blurred from grainy security cams to dramatic newsreels: the two of them running in the background of a car parking lot, then it moved to some grainy news report of several bombs going off causing several car wreckage, flames and explosions.
And then the words that stole the air from his lungs:
Pro Hero Earasurehead’s eldest daughter—Rosie Takahashi—confirmed dead in Tokyo bombing.
His vision blurred. His heart stuttered.
No.
No fucking way.
His body moved before his brain could catch up—packing his bag, slamming the door behind him, keys rattling in his hands. Hawks’ assignment could rot for all he cared. Nothing in this godforsaken world would keep him from getting back to Tokyo.
She wasn’t dead. He refused to believe it.
“Hold on, Rosie,” he growled as he hit the road, tires squealing. “I’m coming for you.”
Notes:
We finally get to see some of Katsuki’s POV of the break up and what happened in the two weeks😩
Also, remember that the POV’s matter because Rosie being oblivious and naive doesn’t notice details like other characters would which affect the story🙂↕️
Also there is two updates today just because I love you guys💕 and want to torture you and don’t feel like I did with this chapter😼
have a nice day and enjoy two updates today🥳
Chapter 102: I’d cross any hell to get you back.
Notes:
In this chapter, there will be torture and slight assault but nothing is too graphic nor goes too far as I love Rosie too much to do that to her and I don’t want you guys to chase me with pitchforks👀
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Akira glared at him from across the small, cluttered supply closet in the police station, her eyes red and glassy with rage. Her arms were crossed tight against her chest, as if trying to hold herself together. “What the fuck, Katsuki? This wasn’t supposed to happen. So why the fuck was she kidnapped?”
Katsuki’s jaw worked as he ground his teeth, hands balling into trembling fists at his sides. “You think this was meant to happen? That I wanted her to be taken?”
“When you called me and told me that you were going to break up with Rosie—when you told me to come take care of her and keep an eye on her—you promised me you’d watch her. That she’d be safe!” Her voice cracked like glass.
He shoved a hand through his hair, frustration and guilt clawing at him. “Hawks took Icy Hot and me off the assignment. I didn’t fucking know she’d be alone. You think I wanted that?”
Akira’s face twisted. “Don’t you dare put this on me!” She stormed forward, her fists shaking. “You left her. You left her wide open for anyone to grab her. You left her so broken she probably couldn’t even defend herself—”
Katsuki’s eyes burned. “Where the hell were you then, huh? Where were you when she needed you?”
Her lips trembled, eyes filling with tears. “I—I was with Shoto.”
His expression darkened. “You were with that half-and-half bastard?”
She shook her head miserably, her voice dropping. “I had to check on him. But, no, it was becauseI didn’t think—there was a villain attack while I was with Monoma, and it turned into a mess. I couldn’t get back in time—”
A snarl ripped from his throat. “You were supposed to be there!” he shouted. “You were supposed to protect her!”
Akira’s hand shot out and slapped him hard across the face. The sound echoed like a gunshot in the tiny space. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she pounded her fists weakly against his chest. “I hate you,” she choked. “I hate all of you! You left her alone, and now—now she’s gone. It’s all your fault!”
Her voice became a raspy hoarse whisper, “It’s my fault—I should’ve been there—I should’ve known…” Her knees gave way, and she sagged against him, her fists falling limp at her sides. “God, Katsuki…what if we find her and she’s dead? What if she’s—”
He caught her, his arms wrapping around her trembling frame, his own heart cracking under the weight of her words. He wanted to deny it, to promise her that Rosie would be fine, that they’d bring her home. But the truth was a festering wound in his gut.
“We failed her,” she whispered, her voice a ragged breath in the darkness. “We failed her, Katsuki.”
He held her close, his own voice trembling as he whispered back. “No. I won’t let her die. I’ll tear the world apart if I have to—but I’m gonna bring her back.”
Because the thought of a world without Rosie was the only thing Katsuki couldn’t stand. It was like imagining the sun never rising again. If she was gone—if she was dead—then he’d find the bastard who did it and tear them limb from limb. And if Rosie was gone for good, if he couldn’t save her, then he’d follow her into death himself. A life without Rosie in it wasn’t a life worth living. She is his home, his spark, the only one who’d ever made him feel truly alive.
Akira pulled back from his chest, her eyes puffy and red, her shoulders trembling. “I—I need to go clean myself up,” she muttered, her voice hoarse and broken. She turned away, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand, and disappeared through the door of the supply closet, leaving Katsuki alone with his thoughts.
He stood there, staring at the cracked linoleum floor as the silence pressed in on him. His knuckles were white, nails biting into his palms. Rage and guilt clawed at his insides, a burning wildfire he couldn’t control. The thought of Rosie’s smile, the way she’d reached out for him that night he’d broken her heart—God, he’d never forgive himself for that.
A large metal bucket of ice-cold water was unceremoniously dumped over Rosie, soaking her from head to toe. She gasped in shock, her teeth chattering as the freezing water seeped into her clothes, numbing the deep ache in her bruised and wounded body. Her breath hitched as she blinked furiously, water dripping from her eyelashes, and she strained to lift her head. Through the haze of pain and the dim lighting of the stone room she’d been chained up in, she made out a tall, largely muscled figure standing before her.
He had jet-black hair that hung in disheveled strands, a strong, angular jaw, and eyes so green they glowed like eerie beacons in the darkness. His gaze was sharp, cold, and calculating. A camera sat propped up on a crate, the red light blinking, its unblinking eye recording every miserable moment The man tossed the empty bucket aside, the clang echoing through the chamber as he crouched down to her level. With one gloved hand, he gripped her chin, tilting her head up so that she was forced to meet his gaze. He was the one who had stabbed her, who tried to kill her in the park. Her scar throbbed just by looking into his eyes. He made a clicking noise with his tongue, eyes scanning her face with unsettling precision. “Even wounded,” he murmured, his voice low and tinged with something cruel, “you still look gorgeous.”
It didn’t sound like a compliment, it was a mocking observation that made her stomach twist with unease.
His grip on her chin loosened, and he let her head drop with a cold indifference, rolling his neck as if preparing for a workout. “My apologies for leaving you all alone for so long, pumpkin.”
“Don’t—” she choked out, her teeth chattering violently as her fevered body quaked. “Don’t call me that.”
He snorted in amusement. “Fine,” he drawled, his eyes glittering with a cruel light. “Now that you’re awake, Rosie, I suppose it’s time I introduce myself. The name’s Kyoma.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice cracking as her nipples hardened painfully against the soaked leather dress that clung to her like a second skin.
Kyoma’s expression hardened. “It’s not about you, Rosie.” He grabbed a rickety chair from the corner of the room, dragging it in front of her. He forced her to sit, his hands on her shoulders, before stepping back behind the camera. "This is all about Daddy, dearest. You are just collateral."
She could feel her vision swimming, whether from fever or the drugs he’d injected her with, she didn’t know. “What did my father do?” she rasped, the question weak and broken.
“He’ll be joining us soon, don’t worry,” Kyoma replied with a sickening grin.
She frowned, her heart sinking. “What are you talking about?”
Kyoma leaned forward, twirling a knife in his hand—a long, cruel blade that glinted in the camera’s light. “I lured that father of yours away from his precious hero friends,” he sneered. “Even the head of the HPSC couldn’t stop me. At this very moment he is feeding them some lie and making his way here.”
Her heart thundered in her chest. “Why kidnap me now?”
“Couldn’t get my hands on you when you were flanked by two Pro heroes,” he mocked. “But now… now’s the perfect time.” He shrugged, tilting his head like a curious predator. “Besides, I’ve left a decoy body behind. Buy me a little time. Though, that one hero, Dynamight, he might be my biggest issue.”
Something in her cracked, and she started laughing—high, sharp, and hysterical. It rattled in her chest, raw and ragged. She wasn’t sure if she was hiding her tears or if she’d finally snapped.
Kyoma’s grin faltered, and he jumped back slightly, slicing his hand on his own blade. Blood dripped, bright red and wet. “Why the hell are you laughing?” he growled.
“He—” she gasped between hysterical laughter. “He won’t come for me.” She stared into the camera, unable to look at Kyoma’s face. “He doesn’t give a shit about me.”
Kyoma’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, but I think he does,” he purred, stepping closer. He reached out and pressed the cold blade against her collarbone, letting it slide slowly over her skin. A hiss escaped her lips as the steel bit shallow but enough to sting.
She couldn’t stop the whimper that slipped out as he pressed the blade harder. Memories of Katsuki doing this to her, of how he whispered in her ear and touched her, made her squeeze her legs together to alleviate the ache. Thankfully he didn’t notice or chalked it up to her being cold from the ice water.
“Regardless, if he comes or not. That Father of yours is, should have heard how angry he was when I sent him photos of you.”
She jerked from him, cutting herself on the blade. “You’re a bastard.”
“Same words your Mom used when I stabbed her,” he blinked. “Do you know that she begged for me to spare you?” he asked, his tone casual, as though they were discussing the weather.
She shivered violently, her teeth chattering. Her lips trembled as she struggled to form words. “I—I…she what…?” she whispered hoarsely, trying to keep her voice steady despite the fear that clawed at her chest.
He gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Why involve us if you’re after my Dad?” she croaked out, her voice hoarse and trembling.
He tilted his head, a smirk spreading across his angular face. “An eye for an eye,” he sneered, his green eyes glinting with malice. “Let’s see just how long it takes for Daddy to come running,” Kyoma whispered, his voice like poison. “I know about your little healing quirk. We’re going to have so much fun together.”
He drew the blade down her chest, tracing the shape of a cross before slicing shallowly into her skin. She gasped, the pain shocking her system like a live wire. Her tears mixed with the water still dripping from her hair. She let him—because in the back of her mind, she was praying that her father would save her. Kyoma’s voice grew wild, unhinged as he worked. “You look just like her, you know,” he snarled, his eyes bright with manic delight. “Same hair, same eyes—same pathetic scream.”
She couldn’t hold back anymore. The tears came in hot, fast, unstoppable streams as he carved into her again.
“You even cry like her,” he spat, his voice thick with disgust and twisted affection. “Your mother was the same. Pathetic. Weak.”
She screamed as he cut deeper, her voice echoing off the stone walls. Somewhere in the haze of agony, her heart cracked, her voice a hoarse whisper as she tried to fight through the pain. Katsuki… please… “Please…stop…leave me alone.” She sniffled, “I just want to go home.”
He grasped her by her hair, yanking her back to him, but his phone buzzing in his pocket distracted him. He let out an irritated sigh, dropping his arm. Fishing the device out, he answered with a sharp, “What?” His other hand shot out, gripping her chin with bruising force, dragging her face close to his.
She could hear muffled voices on the other end of the call, but her focus was on the man’s face, his breath hot as it fanned over her damp skin. She tried to twist away, but his grip was ironclad. Panic clawed at her chest. His eyes narrowed, lips curling into a predatory grin. Without warning, he leaned in and pressed his lips harshly to hers.
Her eyes flew wide, and a strangled sound escaped her throat. She tried to push him off, but her wrists, still chained above her head, rendered her helpless. His kiss was rough, bruising, violating. Tears welled up in her eyes, the taste of bile at the back of her throat as he forced himself on her. Every second felt like an eternity—like a betrayal. Like she was cheating on Katsuki even though they had broken up. It made her feel dirty. Weak. Ashamed.
“Dammit,” he growled into the phone, pulling away just enough to speak. “You had one job and you fucked it up. All you had to do was meet him at the location and knock him out not run him off the road you fucking idiot. Do not do anything until I get there.” He shook his head, exhaling sharply. Then, with a disgusted look, he ended the call and pocketed the phone. He leaned back, studying her tear-streaked face with cold amusement. “I’ll play with you later,” he purred, his fingers tracing her jaw possessively.
She tried to pull away, but he reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe. Her eyes widened, but before she could react, he jammed it into her upper arm and pushed the plunger. The fluid burned its way into her veins. Her vision swam, her eyelids growing unbearably heavy. “No… please…” she whimpered weakly, tears streaming down her cheeks as she fought to stay awake. Katsuki… please save me…I know you hate me now, but please…find me
Her last thought was a desperate, silent plea for him before everything went black.
After a few minutes, he drew a ragged breath and finally forced himself to move, leaving the closet and stepping into the dimly lit hallway. Outside, Shoto was waiting. He stood stiff and serious, arms crossed and eyes unreadable. “Hawks has been looking for you,” Shoto said quietly.
Katsuki scowled, his gut tightening. “Why? What the hell does he want now?”
Shoto’s jaw tightened. “It’s Aizawa. He’s gone missing.”
Katsuki’s eyes widened, his pulse roaring in his ears. “What? Since when?”
“Just a couple of hours ago.”
“Who reported him missing?” he asked with a tired sigh, dragging a hand down his face.
Shoto hesitated. “Present Mic. They’d been on the phone, Aizawa was on his way to pick up Eri. Present Mic heard a car crash, then a gunshot. He raced to the phone’s location, found Aizawa’s car off the road, a pool of blood, and tire marks. But no Aizawa.”
A cold dread settled in Katsuki’s gut. Rosie was still missing and now Aizawa too? Something was wrong. Very wrong.
He clenched his fists, his jaw tight. “Fuck!” Without wasting another second, Katsuki jerked his head at Shoto. “Come on, we’re going to see Hawks.”
Together, they strode down the hallway of the police station, each step ringing with urgency. They rounded the corner into a small conference room where Hawks was talking with Present Mic, his feathers slightly ruffled with worry. Hawks looked up as they entered, a grim expression on his face. “Bakugou. Todoroki. We got the DNA results back from the blood in Aizawa’s car. Nothing—no match in any database, dead end. But…” He gestured at the screen beside him, showing grainy CCTV footage.
Present Mic was wringing his hands. “Based on the CCTV footage of Aizawa’s car and where he wrecked, we saw that another car had been waiting for him and proceeded to run him off the road, then the next time we see that car was an hour later when another car shows up and then the cameras were shot out. However, we were able to get a blurry image of the guy who took him. We ran facial recognition, and…”
“It’s got nothing to do with Rosie or her mother, Miyu,” Hawks finished, his tone careful but firm.
A choked sound came from the doorway. Akira stood there, arms folded over her chest, tear-stained face blotchy and red. “It’s about Aizawa, right?”
They all turned to her, the room going silent for a heartbeat.
“Yes,” Hawks said.
Her lips trembled. “It’s about that man Miyu dated, right?” she asked quietly.
Katsuki’s brow furrowed. “What man?”
Akira swallowed hard, eyes darting nervously. “She dated this guy for a while before she broke things off with him. He was obsessed with her. But she never talked about him much.”
“Why’d she break things off?” Katsuki demanded.
Akira’s gaze dropped. “Because… she loved Aizawa. She always had. She’d wanted to try again with him. The guy was controlling, wouldn’t let her go easily. It was messy.”
“Rosie never mentioned him, nor did Aizawa.”
“That’s because neither of them knew. I wasn’t supposed to know either but I had come over to the house after partying and I walked in on them kissing.”
Hawks’ eyes darkened. He handed her a printed copy of the blurry CCTV image they’d captured. “We got this off a traffic camera. Is it him?”
Akira took one look at the paper and immediately burst into tears, clutching it to her chest. “It’s him,” she whispered brokenly. “It’s the guy Miyu dated.”
Katsuki’s stomach dropped like lead. “Then this is about Aizawa,” he growled.
Shoto frowned, “if Miyu dated him then why is this about Aizawa?”
Present Mic crossed his arms, a deep frown on his face, “because I was with Aizawa for a mission over twenty one years ago. We were undercover on an assignment in London.”
She woke up again to another bucket of ice water dumped on her head, the cold shock slamming into her like a physical blow. She convulsed, gasping, water streaming down her face, soaking her hair into her battered skin. Her teeth chattered uncontrollably, her arms rattling the chains that held her captive. Through the haze of pain and the shivering tremors in her body, she saw him—tall and broad-shouldered, his black hair falling in messy strands over his sharp, predatory green eyes. Eyes that glowed with a sickening hunger. Kyoma tossed the bucket aside, the clang of it striking the stone floor like a gunshot in the silence.
“So fucking gorgeous,” he whistled, eyes roaming over her with a mix of admiration and disdain. “Who knew that an ugly bastard like your father could make a creature as beautiful as you?”
She clenched her jaw, her voice ragged but defiant. “A shame both your parents were ugly, judging by that face of yours.”
His grin faded in an instant, replaced by a scowl. He stalked forward and slapped her hard across the face. The impact rattled her skull, sending stars dancing across her vision. “Shut that mouth of yours before I fill it with something,” he snarled.
Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. She ran her tongue over her teeth, wincing at the sharp sting. Still, she forced herself to look up at him, defiant even as fear coiled in her gut. “You’re sick and depraved, Kyoma,” she spat.
His eyes widened, the corners of his lips twitching. His fingers grasped her jaw, thumb pressing roughly across her bottom lip. “God, I loved Miyu, you look just like her when you look at me like that,” he sighed, his tone twisted between adoration and hatred.
A knock at the door made her jump. A man burst in, eyes frantic. “Sir, I came—”
Time slowed to a crawl. She watched as Kyoma turned, drew his gun, and fired multiple shots. It was deafening in the stone chamber. The man’s head jerked back, a spray of blood splattering across both of them. The man’s body crumpled to the floor with a sickening thud, blood already pooling on the cold cement. Hot blood speckled Rosie’s face and neck. She gagged, bile rising in her throat as it dripped down her chin and lips. Her stomach heaved, but she forced herself to swallow the bile, trembling as tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Why is it so hard to find good help these days?” Kyoma sighed, running a hand through his dark hair, smearing blood across his skin. He holstered his gun, kicking the corpse at his feet. “Down to only ten guys now,” he muttered. “I started this operation with sixty. But the moment they fuck up—” He gestured at the body. “I kill them. Can’t afford them screwing up my plans.”
She shivered, her voice a broken whisper. “Please… just let me go.”
“Why?” he mocked, eyes gleaming with dark amusement. “Your Dad’s here in this very room.”
He turned, gesturing with the knife to the far wall. Her eyes followed and her heart cracked. Her father was chained to the wall, head slumped forward, blood streaking down his bruised, battered face. His hero gear was gone, leaving him in bloodied clothes, his arms splayed and wrists cuffed above his head.
“Dad!” she screamed, yanking at her chains until the raw metal bit into her wrists. “Dad!” Then she whipped her head to him, fear and anticipation running through her body. “Did you kill him already?”
Kyoma tilted his head, watching her desperation with a twisted smirk. “He shouldn’t be dead,” he mused. Then frowned, his brows furrowing, “did those fuckers give him too much?”
Rosie’s stomach churned with dread. “What… what did you do to him?”
Kyoma’s grin widened. “Let’s find out.” He approached Aizawa, knife in hand. Without hesitation, he slammed the blade into her father’s left hand, pinning it to the wall.
Aizawa’s body jerked violently, a strangled scream ripping from his throat. Blood poured from the wound, spattering the floor and spraying Kyoma’s boots.
“Dad!” Rosie sobbed, her voice raw, tears streaming down her face. “No—please!”
Kyoma stepped back, yanking the knife free with a wet sound. He held it up, blood dripping from the blade, a satisfied grin on his face. “Ahhh… now a family reunion.”
Aizawa’s head lifted weakly, eyes flickering open, pain and confusion clouding his gaze. His voice came out hoarse, but relief flooded his face the instant he saw her. “Rosie… sunshine…” he breathed, his voice cracking.
“Dad,” she sobbed. “Why did you come? Why?”
Aizawa’s lips trembled. “You think I wouldn’t look for you?” His eyes were glassy but determined. “I’d cross any hell to get you back.”
Kyoma stood back, arms crossed, watching them like a sick director in a twisted play. He twirled the knife idly. “Isn’t this heartwarming? Family love—so tender,” he sneered, his voice dripping with venom.
Rosie’s stomach heaved again, but she fought it down. “Please… please don’t hurt him,” she whispered.
Kyoma’s eyes gleamed with malice. “Oh, Rosie,” he cooed. “The real show’s just getting started.”
Terror gripped her heart. She clutched at the chains, wishing, praying, that Katsuki would come crashing through that door. Her voice trembled, but defiance shone in her tear-streaked eyes. “He’ll find me. He’ll find me and kill you.”
Kyoma laughed, high and sharp, the sound echoing off the stone walls. “We’ll see about that, but for now, let me clean up this body and then we can discuss why you two are in this very room today.”
Notes:
Hope you guys loved the chapter. I’ll see you tomorrow and let me know your thoughts💕
Chapter 103: I have nothing left to live for.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie knew she looked just as bad as she felt. Her face was bruised and swollen, her arms trembled from dehydration, and her stomach ached from hunger. She knew her healing quirk had been knitting the worst of her wounds, but she was too weak now without water or food, her energy reserves had run dry. Her eyes drifted toward the red blinking light of the camera, its mechanical gaze capturing every flicker of pain.
“My sunshine,” her dad’s voice, hoarse and pained, cracked through the silence. She turned her head with effort to meet his eyes, seeing the exhaustion and desperation etched into every line of his face. “I’m sorry. They’ll find us.”
She blinked tears away, her voice trembling. “They think I’m dead.”
He shook his head, his gaze unwavering. “Hawks told me that Akira figured out that the body was a fake.”
Her brow furrowed. “How?”
“A tattoo that only the two of you knew about,” he said quietly, his lips curling into a faint, sad smile.
Rosie’s chest clenched, and she tensed in her seat. The tattoo—the one she’d had branded near her heart, a small reminder of Katsuki, the man she loved more than anything. The thought of him, his fiery presence, made her break down at last. Ugly, choking sobs racked her body, tears spilling freely.
“Your uncle had my location,” her dad continued, his voice a hoarse whisper. “We were on the phone when I got run off the road. They’ll find us.”
She bit her bottom lip until it bled, welcoming the pain as a distraction from the fear and despair.
Suddenly, the door slammed open. She didn’t even flinch—she had no energy left to spare for fear. Slowly, she dragged her eyes up to see Kyoma standing in the doorway, wearing fresh clothes and gloves. A cruel smile curved his lips as he closed the door behind him and approached her, the gleaming knife glinting ominously in the dim light.
He moved behind her, pressing the cold steel to her jugular. She felt the blade’s sharp edge slice a shallow line across her skin, a warning.
Her father’s face twisted with rage. “Leave her alone,” he growled, his voice a dangerous rumble.
Kyoma chuckled. “Oh, I’m going to tell a story,” he purred, his tone laced with poison. “And you are both going to listen. Try to interrupt, and I’ll slice her jugular open and force you to watch her drown in her own blood.”
Aizawa’s jaw clenched, his eyes burning with helpless fury, but he nodded.
Kyoma took a breath, his thumb brushing a tear from Rosie’s cheek as if it were a tender gesture instead of a mockery. “Twenty-one years ago,” he began, his voice oddly calm, “I was fourteen. A bright-eyed, spoiled little boy from a wealthy family. My father was a powerful man, a CEO with his fingers in every dirty pie—guns, drugs, trafficking, the works. He’d made powerful friends, but also powerful enemies.”
He paused, the knife pressing a little deeper. Rosie winced, her tears mixing with the blood on her cheek.
“We were on our way to the opera that night. My parents loved the opera—always dressed up, always pretending we were so sophisticated.” His smile twisted. “My little sister loved it too. She was nine, always wore her best dress, always singing on the way there.”
Rosie’s breath caught in her throat.
“But that night,” Kyoma continued, his voice growing colder, “some Pro Heroes from Japan showed up—some big investigation they had been doing for months into my Father’s dealings. They made my father’s associates so nervous, they decided to get rid of him even if it meant taking out the whole family.”
He shifted, his fingers playing with the knife’s hilt.
“They hit us on the way to the opera, blindsided us at an intersection. The car flipped, glass shattered, blood everywhere. My mother was screaming, blood pouring from a wound I couldn’t even see. My sister was crying, pinned under the seat. My father? That coward ran, ran from the wreckage, leaving us behind like trash. He was chased down by a Pro Hero from Japan. I saw it, some hotshot with a cool rare quirk he used on my Father to prevent him from getting away. Another hero tried to pull me and my sister out. My Father’s associates had followed the ambulance that had the both of us in it and shot it up. She died along with the paramedics.” His voice trembled, a dark rage seeping into every word. “And my father, he was arrested. Thrown away like the scum he is. I was left alone, with nothing but a memory of a mother who bled out beside me, a sister who died in agony, and a father who ran like the coward he was.” He leaned closer, his breath hot on Rosie’s neck. “You know what’s funny? You act like my mother—soft spoken, kind, and graceful and you scream like my sister did, too.”
Rosie’s breath hitched, tears streaming down her face as she stared at the wall, her whole body trembling.
Kyoma turned his gaze on Aizawa, his smile a twisted, predatory snarl. “You were the man who led the investigation that destroyed my family,” he hissed, voice trembling with barely restrained rage. “It was you who arrested my father that night. And now, you’ll get to watch her suffer for every second I did.” He yanked Rosie’s hair back, forcing her head up, the knife pressing just enough to draw a thin line of blood.
She whimpered, her breath hitching, her mind screaming for Katsuki to save her. “Please… don’t…” she whispered, her voice raw, desperate.
Kyoma’s grin widened, sharp and cruel. “Let’s make some memories.”
Aizawa’s eyes burned with defiance, even in the face of death. “I didn’t kill your family,” he snapped, his voice a low growl. “I came to shut down your father’s operation, to stop the violence. I never meant for your mother or sister to die. That wasn’t my doing.”
Kyoma’s smile vanished in an instant, replaced by a cold fury that made the air feel heavy. He let go of Rosie’s hair so abruptly her head dropped forward, tears soaking her face. His hand shot out and punched Aizawa across the face with a sickening crack, splitting his lip. Blood dripped down Aizawa’s chin as his head lolled for a moment before he forced himself to look back at Kyoma, defiance shining in his eyes.
Kyoma snorted, chest heaving with rage and grief. “I had to watch them suffer and die,” he spat. “I watched my mother bleed out and my sister die in agony on the way to the hospital. Be glad that I let Miyu and Rosie live as long as they did.”
Aizawa’s brow furrowed, a sharp pain lancing through his chest. “Why?” he demanded hoarsely.
Kyoma’s lips twisted into a grin, unhinged laughter bubbling up from his chest. “Why?” he echoed, his voice dripping with mockery. He threw his head back and let out a madman’s laugh, the sound echoing off the stone walls like a taunt from the grave.
“Because,” he said finally, leaning close enough that Aizawa could smell the madness on his breath, “I had to grow up. I learned how to be powerful. I started my own business—made money, connections, networks. I tracked down every one of my father’s old associates. Every. Single. One. I kidnapped their wives, their children, tortured them, killed them. Then I killed the men who ordered the hit, all of them. For every tear my mother cried, for every scream my sister let out, I made them pay.”
He turned his wild eyes to Rosie, who was trembling in her chair, her arms weak and heavy. “Then I left you and your family for last. I waited. I wanted to savor this. Figured it would be poetic for Miyu and Rosie to die the same as my sister and mother did in a car accident.”
Rosie’s breath caught in her throat. “That… car accident…” she whispered, horror dawning in her eyes. “It was a hit and run…he ran a red light.”
Kyoma’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming. “Yes,” he said, voice sweet and sick. “When you were twelve, that accident that gave you a concussion and a broken arm, the one that left you so afraid to drive—”
Rosie’s hands were shaking now. “That was you,” she croaked.
“Ah,” Kyoma sighed, his grin unfurling like a serpent. “A loose end I missed. A detail I had to revisit. And now—”
He turned the knife in his hand, eyes flicking from Rosie to Aizawa, then back. “—we’re going to finish what I started.”
Aizawa’s jaw clenched, blood dripping onto his collar as he glared at the monster before him. “You’re sick,” he spat. “You’re nothing but a coward hiding behind a knife.”
Kyoma’s eyes glinted, and he started to laugh again, a high, manic sound that made Rosie’s blood run cold. “Maybe. But tonight—” he leaned down, the knife glittering menacingly under the flickering light— “you both get to learn what true suffering feels like.”
“If that’s true,” Rosie rasped, her voice trembling with both fury and exhaustion, “then why did you wait so long? Why wait from when I was twelve until I was twenty to kill my mom?”
None of this made sense. None of it felt real.
Kyoma’s grin widened, a sick light dancing in his eyes. He tilted his head, his black hair falling like a shadow across his face. “Oh, rightttt—you don’t know.”
Rosie glared at him, her body shaking but her gaze defiant. “Know what?”
He chuckled, almost giddy with the memory. “I dated your mom on and off for three years,” he said, his voice soft with reverence and venom all at once. “I seduced her—wined and dined her, made her laugh. All while stalking her for months before we even spoke. God, she was so easy to read. Prioritized you over herself every time. I admired that at first. Hell, I even fell in love with her.” His eyes glistened with something like fondness before it curdled into hate.
Aizawa’s chains rattled as he yanked at them, his voice a snarl. “You bastard.”
Kyoma’s smile twitched. “That’s why I changed my mind. My revenge was to marry the only woman you loved and become the stepfather to the daughter you left behind for your career as a Pro Hero in Japan.” He started to pace, voice rising. “I asked Miyu to marry me. But the stupid bitch refused, said she still loved you after all these years. That my proposal made her realize she wanted to spend the rest of her life with you.” His voice cracked, rage overtaking him. “So I decided then—I’d lure you back to America, torture and kill them both in front of you, and then kill you.”
Rosie’s tears blurred her vision. “But you didn’t…” she choked out.
Kyoma’s grin twisted, his eyes manic. “Oh, I was too heartbroken to wait. So I gave her one last chance to marry me. She refused. So I spent the whole day with her—torturing her.” He let out a shuddering sigh, his voice trembling with an unholy glee. “I made her beg, Rosie. I made her scream and cry and then I killed her.”
Rosie’s heart shattered. “That’s not true,” she whispered. “The police said she was stabbed in an accident on her way home from work…”
Kyoma let out a high, delighted laugh. “A lie, obviously. I doctored the police records, bribed the right people, changed the coroner’s report—hell, I even paid off the witness statements. All so the world would think it was an accident.”
Rosie’s eyes burned with tears, but a defiant rage rose in her chest. “You’re a fucking coward,” she spat, her voice trembling with a fury that shocked even herself. “No wonder my mother refused to marry a piece of shit like you. No one could ever compare to my father.”
Kyoma’s grin vanished, replaced by a snarl. His hand whipped out and slapped her hard across the face, making her head snap to the side. “Watch your mouth you stupid bitch,” he hissed.
But Rosie only laughed bitterly, blood on her lips. “Hit me again, coward. I dare you. My mother saw right through you, and now I see it too. You’re just a pathetic man with a knife and a bunch of lies.”
Kyoma’s face contorted with rage. He kicked the chair out from under her, forcing her to hang by the chains around her wrists. She gasped, her legs weak and trembling as she struggled to stay upright.
He loomed over her, his knife glinting inches from her throat. “You should watch your fucking mouth, girl,” he snarled. “Otherwise, I’ll gut you like your mother and let your father watch you die.”
Rosie lifted her chin, her voice breaking but determined. “Then do it,” she spat. “I have nothing left to live for.” Inside, her heart ached with a deeper, more personal grief than any knife wound could cause. Katsuki doesn’t love me, she thought. I’ll never see him again. I don’t want to live in a world without him.
Kyoma’s eyes burned with a savage glee. He raised the knife, trembling with anticipation and then his phone buzzed. He paused, the spell broken, and pulled it from his pocket. His grin faded, replaced by irritation. “Tch,” he muttered.
Before Rosie could react, he pulled a syringe from his belt and plunged it into her arm. The world blurred around her as she felt herself sag in the chains. Through her fading vision, she saw him move to Aizawa and do the same.
“Sleep tight,” Kyoma said, his voice low and mocking. “We’re not done yet.”
Then darkness swallowed her whole.
Katsuki hunkered down behind the twisted metal of a half-collapsed fence, his eyes fixed on the hulking, graffiti-streaked warehouse at the edge of the woods. Even at this distance, he could see the silhouettes of men dressed head-to-toe in black moving in and out, weapons at their sides. The scent of stale smoke and damp earth clung to the air, making his nose twitch.
He clenched his jaw, Damn bastards. Taking Rosie….
“Oi, Dynamight,” Hawks said, his tone breezy but his eyes deadly sharp. “Don’t burn a hole in that fence. We need it for cover.”
Katsuki shot him a glare. “Hawks, if I had my way, I’d blow this place sky high. But we’re doing it your way. For now.”
Hawks flashed that easy grin, but even he couldn’t hide the tightness in his shoulders. “We’ve been staking this place out for days. Aizawa and his attacker were tracked here from Saitama by one of my guys. Big abandoned warehouse, surrounded by woods, with enough foot traffic to make us suspicious.”
Kirishima cracked his knuckles, looking equal parts pumped and worried. “Yeah, it’s crawling with those guys in black. Armed to the teeth. Coming and going like it’s a damn shopping mall.”
Shoto’s eyes were ice-cold as he scanned the perimeter through the scope of his borrowed rifle. “The pattern of movement matches the intelligence we got. They’re careful but not perfect.”
Katsuki grunted. “They got sloppy.”
Hawks nodded. “We found one guy in particular—frequent barfly. Akira went undercover, seduced him at some dive downtown. Told him she was looking for a good time in the alley.”
Katsuki smirked at the memory. “Guy never saw it coming. Kirishima was waiting for him in the alley. One hit, lights out.”
Kirishima grinned. “Easy peasy. Poor bastard probably thought he was getting lucky.”
Hawks gave him an approving nod. “Once you’re inside, you’ll gather intel—find out where Aizawa and Rosie are being held. If we get the drop on them, we can end this before it gets messy.”
Katsuki’s jaw tightened as he adjusted the black mask that obscured the lower half of his face. His borrowed black uniform hugged his frame, the heavy boots muffling his steps as he crouched low against the shadows.
He slipped the earpiece into place and pressed it until he heard the faint crackle of Hawks’ voice in his ear. Focus. Eyes on the prize.
With a steadying breath, Katsuki rose from his crouched position and moved with practiced stealth across the overgrown concrete path leading to the warehouse’s side entrance. The guard at the door barely glanced at him, giving a quick nod before turning his attention to a clipboard. Katsuki’s stolen ID badge, still damp from the last guy’s sweat, hung around his neck like a talisman.
Inside, the place smelled of damp rot and oil. The overhead lights flickered, painting the concrete walls in stark relief. Katsuki kept his head down and his pace unhurried, blending into the shuffle of men in black uniforms moving through the corridors with their weapons slung carelessly over their shoulders. He passed storage rooms, offices with cracked glass, and empty loading bays, the distant hum of machinery masking the thrum of his own heartbeat.
Every muscle in his body was tense as he made his way deeper, scanning every door, every face, every shadow. Come on, Rosie…where are you?
He turned a corner and found himself in a narrower hallway. A single armed guard stood by a heavy steel door, arms crossed, eyes half-closed in boredom. The guy’s face lit up the second he saw Katsuki approaching. “Hey, you’re back,” the guard muttered, stifling a yawn. “Bout time. I need to catch some shut-eye before my shift tomorrow.”
Katsuki grunted in response, his voice low and muffled by the mask. “Go on. I’ve got it covered.”
The guard slapped his shoulder and stumbled away without another word. Katsuki waited until the man turned the corner before exhaling a shaky breath. Too easy.
He reached for the steel door’s handle, turned it, and slipped inside.
The smell hit him first—blood, sweat, and the coppery tang of iron. The room was dim, lit only by a flickering overhead light. Aizawa was slumped against the wall, his arms tied behind his back, bruises painting his face in angry shades of purple and red. His hair was matted with sweat and blood, but his eyes—damn, his eyes—still burned with that same unbreakable fire.
Katsuki wasted no time. He dropped to one knee, pulling a small knife from his boot sheath and cutting the ropes binding Aizawa’s wrists.
The older man hissed in pain but didn’t flinch. “Dynamight,” he rasped, voice rough but steady. “Where’s Rosie?”
“I’m looking for her next,” Katsuki said, urgency bleeding into his tone. He pressed a gun and the knife into Aizawa’s hand.
Aizawa gave him a grim smile. “I’ve got unfinished business.” He stood, a little shaky at first, but then straightened with a soldier’s resolve. “Go. Find her.”
“Don’t die on me,” Katsuki muttered.
“Right back at you,” Aizawa growled before he slipped out the door, moving with deadly intent.
Katsuki pressed his earpiece. “Hawks, I found Aizawa, he’s armed and on the move. I’m heading to find Rosie. There aren’t that many guards, most of them are half awake and not worried. Perfect time to strike now.”
“Copy that, Dynamight,” Hawks replied, his voice tense with anticipation.
Katsuki’s teeth bared in a snarl beneath the mask. Standing, his boots barely made a sound on the concrete as he stalked the next hallway. His hands were fists, white-knuckled with rage and dread. He scanned every corner, every shadow, every echo that might give away her presence.
A door loomed ahead, guarded by a lone man slumped against the wall, rifle resting lazily at his side. Katsuki’s rage boiled as he closed the distance in a heartbeat, his gloved hand snapping around the man’s throat. A muffled gurgle escaped before Katsuki slammed him into the wall, the man’s eyes rolling back. Katsuki let the body slump to the ground with a dull thud.
The room’s heavy door stood ajar. He slipped inside, heart pounding in his chest like a war drum.
There she was.
Rosie hung from chains bolted into the ceiling, her arms shackled high above her head. She was wearing that same leather dress she’d worn the night she was taken—a piece that now seemed cruelly ironic, offering neither protection nor dignity. It clung to her in tatters, revealing bloodied and bruised skin beneath, her legs covered in cuts and dark, angry welts. Her bare feet were swollen and battered. Her hair hung in matted clumps across her face, streaked with sweat, dirt, and dried blood.
Katsuki’s breath hitched. His stomach turned at the sight of her—this was his fault. If he’d been faster, stronger, if he’d protected her better, she wouldn’t have had to endure this. He staggered forward, a strangled sob catching in his throat as he reached up to the metal chains binding her. His hands trembled with fury and grief as he tore at the locks, the metal screaming in protest until it finally snapped.
She slumped forward like a ragdoll, and he caught her before she hit the ground. He sank to his knees, her limp body cradled against his chest, her head resting against his shoulder. Her skin felt too light, too cold. She was so thin—so fragile. His eyes stung as tears fell onto her matted hair. “Rosie… I’m so sorry…” His voice cracked as he clutched her tighter, feeling every rib, every bruise beneath his fingers. “I should have been here sooner—I should have—”
Gunfire and shouting erupted in the background, but Katsuki barely heard it. His world was her—only her.
She stirred weakly, her eyelashes fluttering, her eyes unfocused. “Hmm…?”
He blinked tears away, brushing a strand of hair from her face, careful of the cuts and bruises. “I’m here. I’m here to save you.” His voice broke, his breath ragged. “I’m sorry it took me so long. I’m so—”
Her trembling hand lifted, finding his cheek. Her thumb brushed against his tears. A soft smile cracked her lips, even as her eyelids grew heavy. “Thank you…” Her head lolled, her eyes closing, slipping back into unconsciousness.
Katsuki pressed his forehead to hers, shaking as tears streamed down his cheeks. Relief flooded him, mixing with the anguish that had threatened to consume him. She was alive—broken and battered, but alive. The frantic rhythm of her pulse beat against his chest, grounding him in the moment.
“God… I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice trembling with emotion. He pulled her tighter against him, her frail body dwarfed by his broad chest. Every ragged breath she took felt like a gift—proof she hadn’t been taken from him.
He let out a shaky breath and stripped off the black shirt clinging to his sweat-slicked skin. The cool air hit his scarred torso, but he barely noticed. Carefully, he draped the shirt over her, shielding her exposed skin and tattered dress. She was so small like this, so vulnerable, and he hated the thought of anyone seeing her like that. He kissed her forehead gently, as if she might shatter under his touch. “You’re safe now,” he promised. “I’ve got you.”
Sliding an arm under her knees, he lifted her effortlessly, cradling her to his chest like she was the most precious thing in the world. Every step he took felt heavy with purpose, a silent vow that no one would ever hurt her again. Navigating the darkened halls, he sidestepped the chaos that raged around them—the shouting, the gunfire, the clash of powers. It all faded into background noise compared to the steady rhythm of her breathing, the way her head lolled against his shoulder. When he finally emerged into the night air, the cool breeze hit his sweat-slicked skin, and he paused at the edge of the woods. Hawks was waiting, his sharp eyes scanning the darkness.
“Where’s Aizawa?” Hawks demanded, urgency in his voice.
Katsuki held Rosie tighter, his jaw tightening as he met the hero’s gaze. “He’s inside. My only priority is Rosie.”
Hawks frowned.
Katsuki didn’t dare to say more as he had seen the murderous look in Aizawa’s eyes, the same look Katsuki himself had worn when he nearly killed the hitman back in October for attacking Rosie. He knew Aizawa had gone after Kyoma, and Katsuki wasn’t about to step in and stop him.
He adjusted Rosie in his arms, her slight weight a reminder of everything he’d fought for. “We need to get her out of here.”
Hawks nodded, stepping aside to let him pass. “Go. We’ll take care of the rest. There’s an ambulance about half a mile from here.”
Katsuki’s chest swelled with relief, a raw, trembling happiness bubbling up like a fire he’d been starving for. He had Rosie back in his arms—bloodied, bruised, battered, but alive. Every breath she took was a promise he clung to.
He glanced down at her fragile form cradled against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. Tears welled in his eyes, blurring the sight of her battered face, but he blinked them away. He’d been desperate, clawing through every obstacle to get to her and now that she was here, he would do anything, endure anything, just to keep her alive and safe.
He wanted to beg—no, he would beg. He would get on his knees and grovel, plead for her forgiveness for every moment he’d failed to protect her, every second he’d let her suffer. Let her scream at him, let her punch and kick and curse him until her voice broke—he’d bear it all with open arms. Anything, as long as she was alive and breathing.
His fingers tightened around her, careful not to hurt her. “You’re okay now, baby,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve got you. I’m never letting you go.”
A fierce protectiveness surged through him, mingled with a desperate hope that one day she’d smile at him again, love him again. He could almost hear her laughter in his mind—light and bright, like sunshine cutting through clouds. He’d chase that sound to the ends of the earth, claw through every demon, if it meant she’d find joy again.
He took a deep breath, glancing back at the building one last time before setting his eyes forward. “Hold on,” he murmured. “I’ll get you out of here, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” He set his jaw and started toward the ambulance Hawks had mentioned, every step a silent vow that he would never let her go again.
Notes:
The bricks have been sharpened but they have cookies attached🤭
If you go back to chapters 4,7, and 11 then you can see how all these small little mentions led up to this point and how it's all been connected since the beginning😏 I planted the seeds from the beginning that is why I tell you guys every detail is important😁
I apologize for the late update. I started my period today and had the severe I don't want to do anything but sleep under my heating pad🥹 and shoutout to the boyfriend for being so kind to bringing me Starbucks and Chinese takeout🥡❤️
Also, happy Birthday! to @yourfav_wifey I hope you had a great birthday today and I'm sorry that you had a real angsty chapter today as it will not get any better from this point🤗
Chapter 104: I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone win an argument with him
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
A day had passed since then. Rosie was still unconscious, admitted to the hospital under Dr. Merialeth’s watchful care. It didn’t surprise anyone, after everything she’d endured, the overuse of her quirk to keep herself alive, the lack of nutrition, and the drugs Kyoma had forced on her, she was lucky to be breathing at all. But Dr. Merialeth had assured them that Rosie’s quirk was working overtime to help her heal, and that she would wake up within the week.
Meanwhile, every last person connected to Kyoma had been arrested. The nightmare was over. Cases that had haunted the international police, murders in America, London, even one in Japan had all finally been closed. The puzzle pieces all pointed to Kyoma. After he’d killed Miyu, he’d slipped into Japan like a shadow, putting a hit out on his own father. An inmate serving time had started a yard fight that ended with Kyoma’s father conveniently “accidentally” killed. The pieces all fit now.
Kyoma himself had been found dead, a bloody mess in a filthy corridor. Present Mic had found the body, and Katsuki, Hawks, and Present Mic had exchanged a single, knowing look. Aizawa had killed him—there was no doubt about that. The way his body had been slashed up and the bullet hole in his head made the self-defense story laughable at best. But none of them had the heart to call Aizawa on it. Hawks had simply shrugged, voice low and tired as he’d said, “I’ve killed plenty of people in my life. Who am I to judge?” Then he’d told them to “clean up any evidence that contradicts self-defense” and walked away.
Katsuki sighed as he pushed the door open to Rosie’s hospital room. He found Akira sitting cross-legged in a chair by the bed, humming softly as she read aloud from a book, some fantasy, he guessed. She glanced up, one eyebrow raised in greeting, but didn’t pause her reading.
He let his eyes drift to Rosie. Even now, asleep and pale against the white hospital sheets, she looked so fragile. But he could see her quirk working—bruises faded like shadows in sunlight, cuts closing into smooth, unmarked skin. Physically, Kyoma had left no trace on her. But Katsuki’s gut twisted as he wondered how deep the mental scars ran.
How much had she endured in that place—how much of her spirit had been torn apart before he’d finally gotten to her? He felt his hands clench into fists, guilt gnawing at his insides like acid. He’d sworn to protect her. And he’d failed.
Akira’s voice broke the silence. “You know,” she drawled, closing her book with a sharp snap, “if you’re going to start apologizing for everything, you’d better have brought the largest bouquet in Tokyo.”
Katsuki blinked at her. “What the hell would I do with a giant bouquet? Make the nurses trip over it?”
She smirked, tilting her head. “Yeah, you’re right. Better to start with—hmm—a thousand bouquets. That’d be more fitting for a screw-up like you.”
He scowled, but there was no real bite in it. “Tch. Shut up. She doesn’t need a thousand bouquets. She just needs—” He hesitated, eyes locked on Rosie’s face. He wanted to say: She just needs me to be here, every damn day, proving I’m worth coming back to. But the words stuck in his throat.
Akira leaned forward, eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and challenge. “She’s gonna wake up, you know and when she does, you’d better be ready to fight for her. Or I’ll fight you for her.”
Katsuki huffed out a laugh despite himself. “Yeah? You’d lose, brat.”
Akira grinned, her smile surprisingly warm. “Maybe. But at least I’d get a few good hits in first.”
He shook his head, but his chest felt lighter somehow, the guilt dulling just a little. He turned his eyes back to Rosie, his heart softening as he watched the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice a promise. “I’m gonna be here. Every damn day.”
They hadn’t been the only ones to check in on her. Between classes, patrols, and their pro hero work, Rosie’s friends had all stopped by. Her hospital room was a shrine of love and worry, bouquets of bright flowers filled the air with sweetness, chocolates were stacked like small mountains on the table, and cards with encouraging notes littered every available surface.
Today, the room was quiet, sunlight streaming through the window and warming the white bedsheets where Rosie lay, still and pale.
The door creaked open, and Shinso stepped in first. His tired eyes flicked over the room, taking in the clutter of well-wishes before settling on Rosie. “Damn…” he murmured, voice low and pained.
Behind him came Shoto, Izuku, and Kirishima. Shoto’s usually stoic expression was softer than usual, his dual-colored eyes glancing toward Rosie with a hint of sadness. Izuku carried a small bag, probably stuffed with some homemade snacks he’d put together, while Kirishima held a bouquet that looked like it had been stuffed together by someone half-asleep—red roses, yellow tulips, and a random sunflower or two sticking out at odd angles.
Shinso moved closer to the bed, hands stuffed in his pockets as he stared at Rosie’s bandaged arms and the way her hair, still tangled and matted despite Akira’s best efforts, fell across her face. “What the hell happened to her?” he finally asked, voice tight.
Shoto sighed, stepping forward until he stood at Rosie’s side, his eyes locked on her face as if silently willing her to open her eyes. “Kyoma happened,” he said quietly, his breath fogging just slightly as the temperature dipped around him. “He’s the one who’s been stalking Rosie all this time.”
Izuku frowned, his green eyes wide with worry. “Kyoma? Who the hell is that?”
Shoto’s jaw tightened. “Kyoma was a psychopath with a grudge against Aizawa. Apparently, before Rosie was born, Aizawa arrested his father. Kyoma’s mother and sister were murdered by his father’s associates after that. He blamed Aizawa for everything.”
Kirishima’s hands clenched around the awkward bouquet, his eyes burning with fury. “So he went after Rosie…?”
Shoto nodded grimly. “Yeah. Rosie… she was just a pawn in his sick revenge. He kidnapped her, tortured her, and used her to lure out Aizawa. Then proceeds to torture them both.”
Shinso’s face darkened, his violet eyes hard as steel. “That’s sick,” he spat. “That’s beyond—” He stopped, his mouth twisting in a grimace.
Izuku bit his lip, his eyes glistening. “She’s gonna wake up, right?”
Shoto’s gaze softened slightly, his voice low but firm. “Yeah. She’s just recovering from exhausting her quirk. She’s gonna wake up.”
Kirishima stepped forward and gently laid his bouquet among the others. “Not very manly to go after women,” he muttered, his crimson eyes darkening at the thought of Rosie’s attacker.
“Especially someone as kind as Rosie,” Izuku added, wringing his hands nervously. “Who could go after someone like her?”
“A heartless bastard,” Katsuki growled as he stepped into the hospital room, his arms crossed and his sharp red eyes narrowed. He took one look at the cluster of flowers and cards and then glared at the group, his jaw tight. “Why the hell are you all here crowding the room?”
Shoto arched an eyebrow, arms folded coolly. “We came to see Rosie, obviously.” His voice was calm but carried the hint of a smirk.
Shinso blinked slowly, unimpressed. “Always such a bad attitude with you,” he drawled, his tone dry as dust.
Katsuki’s eyes sparked dangerously. “Shut up, Sleepy,” he snapped. “I don’t see you doing anything useful right now.”
Shoto let out a soft huff, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Oh? And yelling at us is useful? You’re one to talk.”
Katsuki bristled, teeth bared. “At least I’m doing something instead of standing around like a damn ice sculpture.”
Izuku laughed nervously, shifting from foot to foot. “Ahaha…guys, let’s not—”
But the tension crackled like a live wire, with Katsuki and Shoto glaring at each other as if seconds from throwing hands. Kirishima and Shinso stood off to the side, sharing a look.
“Still on that assignment?” Kirishima asked, gesturing toward Shinso.
Shinso sighed, rolling his eyes. “Just wrapped it up last night. I’ll miss working at the coffee shop, though.”
Kirishima grinned. “You’ll always have a barista’s soul, man.”
Before Shinso could respond, the door burst open and Akira strode in, a stack of files in her arms and a harried look on her face. Monoma trailed behind her like a storm cloud, his arms crossed and his mouth already opening.
“Bakugou!” Monoma snapped, “I see you’re as insufferable as always.”
Katsuki’s head snapped around, his eyes sparking. “What the hell do you want, copycat?”
Shoto sighed heavily, his voice exasperated. “Monoma, not now.”
Monoma smirked, ignoring Shoto’s warning. “Oh please, I just came to see how your precious Rosie is holding up after your failure to protect her.”
That did it. Katsuki lunged forward, his hands sparking dangerously. “Say that again, asshole!”
Akira set the files on the bedside table and turned with a sigh, planting her hands on her hips. “Monoma, stop picking fights with idiots like Bakugou. You’ll never win.”
Monoma gaped. “Akira—!”
Akira ignored him, shifting her focus to Rosie as she adjusted the blankets around her. “Don’t mind the idiot with the anger issues,” she murmured, voice soft as she brushed a strand of hair from Rosie’s forehead.
Katsuki’s face turned red. “Oi, what the hell, Akira—!”
“What the hell yourself, Katsuki!” she shot back, whirling on him. “Why are you bitching so early in the day especially when Rosie could wake up at any minute?”
“Like hell!” Katsuki’s voice boomed through the room, hands clenched into fists at his sides.
Shoto and Monoma both leaned back against the wall, sharing a mutual, amused look. Kirishima’s lips curved upward as he joined them. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone win an argument with him.”
Monoma smirked. “I don’t think anyone ever does.”
Shoto’s heterochromia eyes landed on Rosie, who continued to sleep. “I don’t think that is true.”
However, nobody had heard him as they all had been focusing on the bickering between Akira and Katsuki.
Aizawa settled into the chair beside Rosie’s bed, his battered body still sore from his own injuries. His dark hair was still damp from a recent shower at the hospital, falling loosely around his tired eyes. The room was dimly lit, the only sound the soft whirring of the medical equipment monitoring her vitals.
Rosie slept peacefully, her hair brushed and clean, her wounds treated and her skin untouched by wounds or scars. She looked fragile—far too fragile for his liking. Her face, once vibrant with laughter and light, was now pale and gaunt, though some color had returned to her cheeks thanks to her quirk. She’d been sleeping since they found her, three long days of silence that gnawed at his heart.
He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he studied her face. “Sunshine,” he said softly, his voice catching. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I wanted you to know that I kept my promise.” His eyes flickered to the floor, memories surging like a tidal wave. He had killed the man who’d murdered Miyu and harmed his daughter. Kyoma had deserved every ounce of pain he’d inflicted before he killed the bastard. “I killed him, Rosie,” he murmured, his voice rough with both relief and sorrow. “The man who killed your mother. The man who…hurt you.” He squeezed his eyes shut, the image of Kyoma’s lifeless body burned into his mind. “He won’t hurt you again. He won’t hurt anyone again. I made sure of it.”
Aizawa stood, every movement slow and deliberate, and approached the bed. He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. His heart clenched. She looked so much like Miyu in that moment—soft, kind, fragile, yet somehow stronger than either of them had ever been.
“You look just like her, you know,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “The same smile, the same light in your eyes.” He pressed his lips to her forehead, a silent promise passing between them. “I won’t let anyone else get close enough to hurt you again. Ever.”
His eyes burned as he pulled back slightly, his mind drifting to the day he had rushed from the airport and to Miyu’s house. Watching as she opened the door and invited him and led him to the bassanet where Rosie slept. He remembered the first time he held her—so small, so fragile, her tiny fingers curling around his as she looked up at him with wide, trusting eyes. She’d giggled, that bright, unguarded laugh that had always been hers, and even then he’d sworn to protect her from everything.
Growing up, she had always reached for him. Every scraped knee, every bad dream, every triumph—she’d run to him first. She’d looked at him like he was unbeatable, like nothing in the world could touch them as long as he was there. He had lived for that.
His voice broke as he spoke again. “I don’t understand why you didn’t come to me,” he confessed. “Why didn’t you tell me about the stalker? Why didn’t you let me help you?” His brows furrowed, pain and confusion mixing in his chest. “Were you… seeing someone?”
The thought of Shoto crossed his mind—a protective but uncertain presence. They had both confessed they liked one another. Had they started to date and he just didn’t notice? Was there something there he didn’t know about? Had she been trying to spare him the pain, or did she think he was too busy to help? But he knew that Hawks had put Shoto in the role as a body guard, he had seen the way Shoto watched her, the way Rosie leaned on him. Had he missed something between them? Was he truly that blind?
He shook his head, pushing the thoughts aside. “It doesn’t matter now,” he whispered, his voice steadier. “I should have been there. I should have known. I’m sorry, Rosie.” His thumb brushed over her bruised cheek, as if to erase the pain with a single touch. “All that matters is that you’re safe, that you’re happy. I’m your father. And I’ll always be here. I swear it.” He leaned down once more, kissing her forehead with all the love he had. “I love you more than anything in this world,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry it took me this long to get to you.”
Then he sat down again, folding his arms and leaning forward, his eyes never leaving her sleeping face. He would stay by her side, no matter how long it took for her to wake. She was his daughter, his everything—and nothing in the world would ever change that.
A knock on the door interrupted Aizawa’s thoughts, and he turned to see Shoto and Akira entering the room. Shoto wore his usual calm, composed expression, but there was a hint of unease in his eyes as he met Aizawa’s gaze. Akira, meanwhile, carried a small basket of fresh fruit and looked between the two men warily.
Aizawa rose from his seat, folding his arms across his chest, his sharp eyes narrowing as he fixed them on Shoto. “Todoroki,” he said bluntly, his tone devoid of preamble. “Are you dating my daughter?”
Akira nearly dropped the fruit basket, her eyes darting to Shoto in panic. Shoto’s eyes widened slightly as he stared back at Aizawa, then flicked to Akira, silently asking for backup.
Akira cleared her throat awkwardly. “Uh, no—no,” she said quickly. “They aren’t dating. They’re… well, they’re definitely important to each other, but they’re not—”
Shoto’s voice, low and steady, cut her off. “We’re not dating,” he confirmed, his mismatched eyes meeting Aizawa’s without flinching. “But… we do like each other.”
Aizawa’s brow furrowed. “Then why the hell aren’t you dating?”
Akira let out a strangled laugh, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Shoto shifted slightly but held Aizawa’s gaze. “Because,” he said, his tone patient but earnest, “it’s important to us to build a strong foundation first. Rosie’s been through a lot. She needs someone she can trust, someone who’ll be there for her as a friend first. We both think that’s the right thing to do.”
Aizawa’s mouth tightened, but before he could reply, the door swung open again and Mina and Uraraka entered, both carrying bags of snacks and small bouquets of flowers.
“Hi, Mr. Aizawa !” Mina chirped brightly, her eyes darting from Shoto to Rosie. “We came to see how she’s doing!”
Uraraka beamed, her eyes warm and full of concern. “We heard she’s getting better.”
The conversation halted instantly, and Aizawa’s frown softened slightly as he nodded at the two girls. “Yeah. She’s resting.”
The room buzzed with a quiet tension, but it was enough to pause the interrogation—at least for now. Akira exhaled, shooting Shoto a grateful look while Aizawa’s sharp gaze flicked between them all. For the moment, he let the conversation drop. Rosie’s healing took priority. He’d get his answers eventually because he had a feeling that something was off.
A bright morning sun streamed through the hospital room’s window, bathing everything in a soft, comforting glow. Dr. Merialeth entered with her usual brisk steps and a bright smile, holding a small tablet in one hand. “Good morning, everyone,” she greeted, her eyes twinkling. “I have some good news. Based on the latest monitoring of Rosie’s brain activity, we’re expecting her to wake up sometime today.”
A cheer rippled through the small crowd gathered in Rosie’s room. Mina nearly squealed in excitement, clapping her hands together. Kirishima grinned, giving Akira a relieved thumbs-up. Even Jiro cracked a small, hopeful smile as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Kanako let out a small sigh of relief.
“Where’s Bakugo?” Mina asked, scanning the room as if expecting to see his spiky hair appear at any moment.
Akira shook her head, a small smile on her face. “Hawks called him in earlier. Some hero business. He wanted to be here, but he said he’ll come as soon as he can.”
Mina pouted but quickly brightened. “Of course. He’d move heaven and earth for her,” she said, earning a chuckle from Denki, who leaned against the windowsill.
Just then, Aizawa stepped into the room, his hair tied back in a low, loose ponytail. He carried his usual calm, though his eyes were soft with worry and relief. Present Mic followed behind, vibrant as ever, his voice at a lower register than usual out of respect for the quiet moment.
“Any changes?” Aizawa asked Dr. Merialeth, his eyes flicking to Rosie’s still form.
The doctor nodded. “Any moment now.”
The room fell into a hush as everyone watched Rosie intently, the steady beep of the monitor counting the seconds.
Then a shift. Her fingers twitched, her eyelids fluttered. Slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking against the light. Confusion creased her brow as she took in the crowd around her. She tried to sit up, but her movements were hesitant, her gaze darting nervously from face to face.
Mina’s eyes glistened with tears. Kirishima clenched his fists at his sides, grinning. Jiro’s lips trembled in relief.
Aizawa stepped forward, his voice soft but steady. “Rosie.”
Her eyes, those bright, curious eyes, met his, but she instinctively shrank back, leaning away from the group as if unsure who to trust.
Aizawa’s heart clenched. “It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “You’re safe. We’re all here for you.”
Rosie’s lips parted, her voice barely a whisper. “Dad…?”
Aizawa’s breath caught, and he reached out, gently brushing her hair from her face. “I’m here,” he said, a promise heavy in his tone. “Are you okay?”
Rosie’s gaze flitted from Aizawa to the others and she bit her lip, trembling as tears welled in her eyes. She gave a small, uncertain nod, though her voice cracked as she whispered, “I—I think so.”
Aizawa’s eyes softened, relief washing over him. “That’s all that matters.”
Around them, the room exhaled as everyone released the breath they hadn’t realized they’d been holding. Rosie was awake.
Notes:
if you know, you know👀
anyway, hope you love this tame chapter and see you guys tomorrow for some feel good wholesome content💕
Chapter 105: Katsuki was going to kill someone.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Rosie!” Akira cried, her voice trembling with relief as she threw her arms around her. “I’m so happy that you’re okay,” Akira whispered, her voice cracking.
Rosie felt her own tears spill as she hugged her best friend back, pressing her face into Akira’s shoulder. She felt so small, so weak and so incredibly grateful to feel Akira’s warmth. She gave a trembling smile, her fingers clutching at the fabric of Akira’s shirt. “Me too,” she murmured, though her voice felt unfamiliar, dry and raspy.
Akira pulled back and smoothed Rosie’s hair, wiping at the tears on her cheeks.
Rosie took a shaky breath, her gaze darting around the room, confusion swimming in her mind. Her dad was there, standing tall and watchful, but beside him were so many faces she didn’t recognize—all complete strangers. Except Kanako, her co worker at Ishlamare. Her eyes widened as she looked from one to the other, anxiety clawing at her chest. “Dad…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “What… what happened to me? Why are all these strangers in my room?”
The air shifted. Aizawa’s expression tightened, his eyes darkening as he glanced at the others in the room. Silence fell, heavy and uncertain.
Then the woman in the crisp white coat stepped forward, her short blue hair tucked behind twitching, pointed ears. Her eyes searching hers as she clicked on a small flashlight, leaning in to peer into her eyes. “Follow the light, dear,” she instructed, her voice calm but edged with a clinical firmness that made Rosie’s skin prickle. Rosie obeyed, watching the small beam flicker from side to side. The doctor clicked off the light with a small sigh. “She’s stable,” she announced, her tone a little too brisk. “Mr. Aizawa, may I speak with you outside for a moment?”
Aizawa hesitated, his jaw set, but then he nodded. “Of course,” he said. He turned to the others, his voice carrying an edge of command. “All of you—out. Except Akira.”
“Why does Kanako have to leave too?” Rosie asked with a frown
Kanako breathed a sigh of relief and then smiled, “I’ll be back, don’t worry.”
Rosie watched, her heart sinking as the others filed out of the room. Her eyes lingered on a boy with mismatched eyes—one gray, one turquoise and his white-red hair. He met her gaze, and her breath hitched. He was… handsome, she thought in a dazed sort of way. His expression was kind, his eyes soft with worry.
He hesitated for a moment, as if wanting to say something, but then turned and walked out with the rest.
Akira sat down on the bed beside her, her eyes warm and comforting. She reached out, smoothing Rosie’s hair back again with a tender smile. “Don’t worry about them,” Akira said, her tone light. “Besides, you have bigger concerns like how I’ve been holding back from eating all the chocolate you got while you were sleeping.”
Rosie blinked, her tears drying as a small, surprised laugh bubbled up. “Chocolate?” she echoed, her voice a little steadier now.
Akira grinned. “Yeah. Boxes and boxes of it. Everyone kept bringing them. I had to fight off Kirishima to keep him from eating it all.”
Rosie smiled softly, her heart warming just a bit. The fear and confusion still lingered, but Akira’s presence made it a little easier to breathe. But what had happened and why was she here?
Dr. Merialeth stood outside Rosie’s hospital room, her white coat crisp and pristine, her pointed ears twitching as she scanned the small group gathered there. Aizawa’s face was tight with worry, his dark eyes focused entirely on her. Shoto stood stoic beside him, arms folded over his chest. Mina’s usual vibrancy had dimmed to a concerned frown, while Kirishima shifted nervously, his jaw clenched. Jirou’s headphones rested around her neck, her expression guarded.
Taking a slow, steadying breath, Merialeth spoke, her voice firm but gentle. “Rosie has experienced a severe amount of stress and trauma,” she began, her words measured. “She was—” She paused, eyes flicking to Aizawa with empathy. “She was tortured, both physically and psychologically, starved, and drugged. Her body was pushed beyond what anyone should endure.”
Aizawa’s jaw tensed visibly.
Merialeth continued, “Because of the extent of the trauma, Rosie’s mind has begun to shield itself. She’s showing signs of dissociative amnesia—a psychological defense mechanism. It’s common in cases of severe emotional or physical trauma.”
Shoto’s brow furrowed. “Is it permanent?” he asked, his voice quiet but urgent.
Merialeth shook her head slowly, her blue hair shifting with the motion. “I can’t say for certain,” she admitted. “It might be temporary, resolving as she feels safe and supported, or it could persist longer—sometimes even indefinitely. But the key thing to understand is that her mind is trying to protect her from everything that’s happened.”
Mina’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “So… what do we do?” she asked softly.
The doctor’s expression turned grave but compassionate. “First and foremost: don’t push her. Don’t bombard her with questions or try to force her to remember,” she explained. “Her memories might come back on their own in time. But if we push too hard—if we force her to confront everything too quickly—it could result in a complete mental breakdown. She might dissociate further, or she might develop other complications like severe anxiety, depression, or even psychosis.”
Aizawa’s voice was rough when he finally spoke. “Should we tell her what happened?”
Merialeth met his gaze steadily. “I recommend that you, as her father, explain things to her gradually,” she said gently. “She trusts you the most. It’s important she hears it from you, and that you let her process it at her own pace.”
Jirou swallowed hard. “So… should we stay away?”
Merialeth glanced at the group, her expression softening. “I know you all care about her,” she said kindly. “But right now, she’s fragile and very confused. She’s going to be overwhelmed by too many new faces or voices. I recommend you keep your distance initially, at least until she’s stable and feels more secure. Give her time and space. When she’s ready, she’ll reach out. For now, focus on being supportive from the sidelines.” She paused, considering them all carefully. “Medically speaking, amnesia is the mind’s way of protecting itself from pain it can’t yet process,” she explained further. “It’s a delicate situation. Pushing too hard risks re-traumatizing her. It’s best to let her mind heal at its own pace.” She gave Aizawa a small, encouraging smile. “You’ve been through enough together. Trust that she’s strong. She just needs time—and your patience.”
Aizawa nodded stiffly, his eyes dark but determined. “I understand,” he said, his voice low.
Merialeth’s expression softened, her gaze sweeping over the group with genuine compassion. “She’s in good hands,” she said quietly. “I’ll continue to monitor her closely. She can be discharged tomorrow morning as we want to continue to monitor her for the rest of the day.”
As they all stood there, absorbing the weight of her words, the tension in the air shifted, resolve and worry mingling in equal measure. And though none of them knew what lay ahead, they all shared one thing: Katsuki was going to kill someone.
Once visiting hours were over, everyone had left, leaving Rosie alone in the hospital room. The quiet pressed down on her like a weight, the sterile white walls and beeping machines reminding her of every reason she’d always hated hospitals. They were cold, unfeeling, and very unnerving.
She sat up in bed, staring at the cards piled on the table beside her. Some were bright and cheerful with cartoonish drawings of heroes and flowers, while others were simple and elegant, signed with names she didn’t recognize. A sick ache filled her stomach. She knew these people—at least, they knew her—but they were strangers to her now. She picked up a card, her fingers trembling slightly. “You’ve got this, Rosie! We’re all rooting for you!” the card read, signed with a name that sparked nothing in her mind. She let out a sigh, placing it gently back on the table.
After her dad had explained what happened—that she’d lost the last ten months of her life—she had cried so hard she thought her heart might burst. He had held her close, his strong arms the only thing keeping her from falling apart, and explained that she had been kidnapped by a man named Kyoma.
Kyoma. Even the name sent a shiver through her, though she had no memory of him. Her dad had told her that Kyoma blamed him for the death of his mother and sister. He had explained that she’d been rescued, and that Kyoma was dead now. But every time she’d tried to ask for more—what happened to her, what he’d done to her—her dad had shaken his head and said she needed to rest. That it was best not to think about it now.
She hated that. Hated that there was this gaping hole in her life where memories should be. Hated that she felt nothing when she looked at the people who had come to visit her—people who clearly cared. People who probably shared inside jokes, moments, laughter.
She ran a hand over her face, pressing her palms against her eyes as if she could force the memories to come back. But there was nothing—just emptiness.
A soft knock on the door drew her attention. She lowered her hands as Dr. Merialeth entered, clipboard in hand and a gentle smile on her face. “Good evening, Rosie,” the doctor said warmly, pulling up a chair beside her bed. “How are you feeling tonight?”
Rosie shrugged, her voice small. “I… I don’t know. I feel… tired. And confused.”
“That’s perfectly understandable,” Merialeth replied, her tone calm and reassuring. She leaned forward, gently lifting Rosie’s wrist to check her pulse. “You’ve been through a lot, and your mind is still recovering. I know it’s hard, but try not to push yourself too much.”
Rosie blinked back tears. “It’s just… I look at all these cards, and I don’t remember these people. I know they care, but I feel… nothing. And that makes me feel so… guilty. Like I’m letting them down somehow.”
Dr. Merialeth’s eyes softened with compassion. “You’re not letting anyone down, Rosie,” she said firmly. “Amnesia isn’t your fault—it’s your mind’s way of protecting you from trauma. The feelings you’ve lost will come back in time, but for now, it’s okay to focus on healing.”
Rosie’s lip trembled as she nodded. “I just… I hate that I can’t remember. I feel like a stranger in my own life.”
Merialeth squeezed her hand gently. “It’s completely normal to feel that way,” she said softly. “But I promise you—you’re not alone. You have people who care about you, even if you can’t remember them right now. They’re here for you.”
Rosie swallowed hard, the ache in her chest loosening just a little. “Okay,” she whispered.
Dr. Merialeth gave her a kind smile and set her clipboard aside. “Now, let’s get your vitals,” she said, checking Rosie’s temperature and blood pressure. When she finished, she patted Rosie’s hand. “You need rest. I’ll see you in the morning, alright?”
Rosie nodded, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion and confusion. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice small.
“Sweet dreams, Rosie,” Dr. Merialeth said as she left the room, leaving Rosie to stare at the cards once more, hoping—praying—that tomorrow might bring back even a single memory of the life she’d lost.
The next morning dawned gray and drizzly, but inside the hospital, the atmosphere felt lighter. Rosie was finally being discharged. Aizawa stood beside her, stoic but watchful, while Akira bustled around gathering the last of Rosie’s things. Kanako stood near the door, her arms folded, waiting for them to be ready.
Rosie had dressed in comfortable clothes—a soft, oversized sweater and leggings Akira had brought her and though she felt fragile, she was grateful to be leaving the hospital. But as her Dad helped her into the car and they pulled up to her apartment, Rosie felt a new wave of frustration. She didn’t recognize the building, the elevator buttons, or the hallway. Apparently she had moved in the ten months that were taken from her.
She swallowed hard, refusing to let the tears come again.
Inside, her apartment was neat and tidy, a reflection of a person she didn’t remember being. She sank onto the couch, trying to pretend that she felt at home, even though the place felt like a stranger’s house.
Then, a small blur of white fur leapt into her lap. “Maya!” Rosie’s voice broke as the miniature poodle yipped excitedly, her tail wagging furiously. Rosie hugged her close, burying her face in the dog’s soft fur. “Hi, sweet girl,” she whispered, her tears soaking into Maya’s coat.
Aizawa, Akira, and Kanako stood nearby, watching with quiet smiles.
Kanako shifted her weight and cleared her throat. “Hey,” she asked gently, “what would you like to do now that you’re home?”
Rosie lifted her head, her fingers tangling in Maya’s ears as the dog whined happily. “I… I’d like to take a walk with Maya. Maybe some fresh air will help,” she said, her voice small but determined.
Akira’s face lit up. “That’s a great idea! We’ll all come with you,” she said brightly, glancing at Aizawa and Kanako for support.
“Of course,” Kanako agreed, smiling.
Aizawa nodded firmly. “Absolutely. But before we go—” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small box, flipping it open to reveal a new pink phone. “Yours was destroyed in the—bombing,” he said, his voice gruff but tender. “I programmed all of our contacts into it, including Eri’s. The rest is up to you to add.”
Rosie’s eyes widened as she took the phone carefully, her fingers trembling. “Thank you,” she whispered, hugging it to her chest.
Akira laughed lightly. “I went with pink because I figured it would cheer you up,” she teased. “And hey, you can customize it with charms or whatever later.”
Rosie managed a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Akira. That’s… really sweet.”
Aizawa bent down, cupping her face in his hands, and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You’re home now, sweetheart. No rush on anything. Just take things one step at a time.”
Rosie hugged him back fiercely, feeling a flicker of warmth in her chest.
Together, they all headed out into the crisp morning air, Maya tugging eagerly on her leash. As they made their way to the dog park, Kanako fell into step beside Rosie. “So, I should probably tell you—you don’t work at Ishlamare anymore,” she said, glancing at her sideways with a wry smile. “You now work at this underground speakeasy burlesque club now. You’re a performer.”
Rosie blinked in surprise. “A burlesque club?”
Kanako laughed. “Yeah, I know. It sounds wild, right? But it’s actually a lot of fun, and the people there are really supportive. It’s… different, but you loved it.”
Rosie felt a small spark of curiosity flicker. “That… actually sounds interesting.”
The walk back to her apartment was filled with small talk, but Rosie felt like a ghost drifting between conversations. Kanako had to leave for work, hugging Rosie tightly before disappearing down the hallway. Her Dad stayed long enough to remind Rosie he’d be back later—he had paperwork to fill out that he’d been putting off since her rescue. With a last, comforting squeeze of her shoulder, he left as well, leaving her alone with Akira.
Notes:
sooooo Rosie has amnesia, which isn't surprising in the least considering everything she has gone through:( girlie can't catch a break but anywayyyyyy hope you guys enjoyed the chapter and I will see you guys tomorrow💕 but let me know your thoughts:)
oh and for those of you that follow the series, I recommend you go checking out the prequel I just posted:)
Chapter 106: Katsuki, right?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie frowned as she stood in her kitchen wearing nothing but shorts and an off-the-shoulder, oversized sweater, her hair tied up in a messy bun. She’d been determined to make herself breakfast—pancakes, scrambled eggs, and sausage—yet the task had taken nearly half an hour longer than expected.
She grumbled to herself as she opened yet another cabinet, empty save for mismatched mugs and dusty tea boxes. “Where the hell are the mixing cups?” she muttered, exasperated.
Everything in this place felt foreign. She’d lived here for—how long had her dad said?—nearly six months, but every drawer and shelf felt like it belonged to a stranger.
Akira had left that morning to meet with Monoma. Apparently, he’d gone to her university before becoming a Pro Hero, and a quick Google search had revealed that he was handsome—though Rosie had never been fond of blonde guys, and she knew Akira usually wasn’t either. But there was always a first for everything, she supposed.
She was startled out of her thoughts by a knock at the door. Kanako stepped in with her usual bright smile and a small bag of groceries. “Hey, Rosie! Let’s get some real breakfast going, okay?” Kanako’s voice was warm, soothing in the quiet apartment.
“Thank God,” Rosie sighed. “I can’t find anything in this place.”
Kanako laughed. “You poor thing. Let’s go through this kitchen together.”
With practiced ease, Kanako rummaged through the cabinets, pointing out where Rosie had put pots, pans, and utensils. They organized as they went, rearranging a few things to make more sense. Rosie marveled at how natural Kanako was in the space, like she belonged there.
Together, they mixed batter, scrambled eggs, and fried sausage. The apartment slowly filled with the warm, comforting scent of breakfast. Kanako handed Rosie a plate and they sat at the kitchen table to eat.
After they’d cleaned up, Kanako pulled out a stack of notes and textbooks. “Okay, let’s start with the basics,” she said, her tone patient yet firm.
They worked through notes—Kanako explaining key concepts while Rosie scribbled in her notebook, trying to recall even the simplest of facts. She felt like she was crawling through molasses, every word slow and sticky, but Kanako kept her focused.
Two hours later, Rosie’s brain felt like mush, and she was on the verge of a headache when the sound of raised voices—shouting, even—erupted from the hallway outside her apartment.
Rosie paused mid-sentence. “Did you hear that?”
Kanako glanced up, frowning. “Yeah, it’s pretty loud.”
Rosie set down her pen and stood, curiosity overriding her fatigue. She walked to the door and cracked it open, peering out.
Standing in the hallway was the man from her photos—the one with the half-white, half-red hair and the striking heterochromia eyes. He was panting, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, dressed in just jeans and a white T-shirt. The elevator doors had just closed with a soft ding.
He looked up at her, relief washing over his face. “Rosie.”
She blinked, confused. “Um, hi. What… what’s going on? Why are you here?”
He wiped the sweat from his brow. “Akira texted me, told me to come check on you. However, your neighbors were fighting, so I broke it up.”
Rosie’s eyes widened. “You did?”
He gave a small, almost sheepish nod. “Yeah. They were getting pretty loud.”
Rosie couldn’t help but smile—the first real one in days. “Well, thank you.” She opened the door a little wider. “Come in, please.”
He stepped inside, his mismatched eyes flicking around the room before settling on her. “Sorry for the noise,” he said, his tone soft and surprisingly gentle.
Rosie shook her head, her smile lingering. “No, thank you for… you know… handling it.” But then she frowned. “I’m sorry, but I forgot your name.”
“Shoto Todoroki,” he said, smiling faintly as he offered his hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you… again, that is,” Rosie said, feeling her cheeks warm as she took his hand. His grip was firm, his palm calloused from years of training and combat, yet his touch was careful, almost hesitant—like he knew she was fragile.
She couldn’t help but think that he was… well, perfect. Tall and good-looking, with that striking half-red, half-white hair and those mismatched eyes that seemed to see right through her. He was polite, too—kind, calm, and the way he carried himself made her think he was dependable, the type of person who always showed up when needed. Smart, brave, a true hero—he was the whole package, and it made her heart flutter and her stomach tighten with nerves.
She suddenly felt small and shy in his presence, like she wasn’t sure where to put her hands or how to meet his gaze.
Shoto gave a gentle smile. “If you’d like, I can help you study too. I’ve got some time.”
“Oh—really?” Rosie’s eyes widened a little. “That… that would be nice. Thank you.”
Kanako, who’d been packing up her notes and supplies, grinned. “Well, I’ve got to head out. Shinso and I are meeting up, and I’m already late.”
Rosie perked up, “Shinso? Wait, I remember him! Is he still working at Ishlamare?”
Kanako shook her head, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Nope, he quit. Turns out he’s a pro hero now too—works as a sidekick for Erasurehead.”
Rosie blinked in surprise. “I… didn’t know that.”
Kanako laughed, rolling her eyes. “I didn’t know either until like two weeks ago, so that’s news for both of us.”
Rosie smiled, a little less alone in her confusion. “Okay. Thanks for helping me today.”
“Of course.” Kanako leaned over and hugged her. “You’re going to do great. Just take things slow.”
Rosie watched her leave, the door closing with a quiet click.
She turned back to Shoto, feeling a little awkward. “Um, can I get you anything? Something to drink?”
Shoto’s mismatched eyes softened. “Water would be nice,” he said with a small smile.
“Coming right up,” Rosie said, feeling a shy warmth in her chest as she moved to the kitchen. As she reached for a glass, she couldn’t help the feeling of warmth as she felt some ease with him sitting there.
He hadn’t seen Rosie since the day before she woke up. Hawks had yanked him off her case, telling him to finish the assignment he’d abandoned. It had taken every ounce of his patience—and a few heated arguments—to get the job done. The only reason he hadn’t lost his shit completely was a text from Kirishima on the day she woke up:
Spiky Hair: she’s awake.
That single line had made his chest loosen for the first time in days. He’d immediately finished his assignment in record time, eager to get back to her and explain himself—to apologize for not being there, for not stopping it, for everything.
He got back on a Sunday. The first place he went was her apartment. He’d barely slept on the flight back, his stomach twisting with anticipation and guilt. He just wanted to see her.
But as soon as he got to her hallway, he stopped cold. The Icy Bastard, Spiky Hair, and Deku were all standing outside her apartment door, arms crossed, sharing that look that made him want to punch every single one of them.
“What the hell are you guys doing here?” he growled.
They all exchanged a glance like they’d rehearsed this moment. Kirishima was the first to speak, his voice soft but firm. “You can’t go see her.”
Katsuki’s hands curled into fists. “Why the hell not?”
“She still needs time to recover,” Kirishima said, stepping in front of him.
“Tch—like hell I’m gonna wait. Move,” Katsuki spat, his tone low and dangerous.
“Kacchan, listen—” Izuku started, but Katsuki didn’t want to hear it. He surged forward, shoving past Kirishima, but Izuku caught his arm.
“She doesn’t know who you are!” Izuku blurted out, his eyes wide and desperate.
Katsuki froze, every cell in his body going still. “What…?”
The shock was enough for Kirishima and Izuku to push him back, arms locked as they dragged him away from her door. He fought them, teeth clenched, heart hammering in his chest.
“What the hell do you mean she doesn’t know who I am?!” he snarled, twisting in their grip.
“She has amnesia,” Izuku said breathlessly, his voice strained. “Dr. Merialeth explained it. Rosie woke up, but she… she lost the last ten months of her memories.”
Katsuki felt like someone had punched him in the gut. He stopped struggling, his breath catching in his throat.
“You—” His voice cracked, anger bleeding into helplessness. “You’re telling me she doesn’t even—”
The elevator doors behind them slid open, and Kirishima and Izuku seized the opportunity, dragging him backward, ignoring his curses and struggling.
He caught one last glimpse of her apartment door swinging open. A small figure, with her hair tied up, peeked out just as the doors began to close. He didn’t even know if she’d seen him.
“Wait—” he gasped, lunging forward, but the elevator doors slammed shut, trapping him inside. Katsuki’s voice was raw. “What do you mean—she doesn’t know who I am?”
Izuku, panting, finally answered. “The doctor said it’s a protective mechanism. Her mind blocked out the trauma… she doesn’t remember the last ten months. That includes you. We aren’t to push her to remember, as that can make it worse and pushing her too fast will only hurt her.”
The elevator hummed as it descended, leaving Katsuki staring at Izuku with a mix of fury, pain, and disbelief. Rosie didn’t remember him. She didn’t know him at all.
And suddenly, the whole world felt like it was cracking under his feet.
Katsuki had refused to believe any of it. Rosie not remembering him? It was impossible—she was strong, sharp, unshakable. The thought that her mind had shut him out, even to protect her, made him sick.
The only reason he hadn’t marched back to her apartment was because Akira had called him. Her voice had been low and fierce, telling him to leave Rosie alone—that yes, she really didn’t remember him, and that she needed time.
He’d thrown his phone across the room.
The next morning, he stomped across campus, his backpack slung over one shoulder as he made his way to his final. The sun was bright, the courtyard alive with students milling about, but he barely saw any of it. His mind was a storm of frustration and disbelief.
Then he saw her.
Rosie stood near a bench under a tree, her small form surrounded by Mina, Momo, Sero, and a couple of their friends. She was clutching her coffee and phone, her eyes wide and terrified. Her lips trembled as she tried to force a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She looked like she was on the brink of tears.
A flash of memory hit him—her first day of class last semester, how everyone had crowded her as soon as the lecture ended, bombarding her with questions and attention, and how she’d nearly broken down. He’d been the one to snap at them then, to get them to back off.
His jaw clenched as anger flared in his chest. Without thinking, he stomped towards them, his steps hard and fast.
“Oi—BACK OFF!” he barked, his voice sharp and cold, slicing through the chatter.
The group startled, eyes wide, as Katsuki planted himself between them and Rosie, arms crossed, his glare lethal. “Give her some fucking space,” he snarled.
They all looked to Rosie, who had frozen like a deer in headlights, her eyes glistening with tears. Her lips trembled as she tried to stammer out a word, but nothing came.
Mina’s face fell, guilt flooding her features. “Sorry, Rosie,” she murmured.
“Yeah… sorry…” Sero added, his eyes dropping to the ground.
Momo gave her a sympathetic look. “We didn’t mean to overwhelm you…”
Katsuki’s glare deepened. “I said back off.”
They scattered with mumbled apologies, their eyes darting between Rosie and Katsuki before hurrying away, leaving only the two of them under the tree.
Katsuki turned to face her but couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes. She stood there, trembling, confusion clouding her features. The vacant, uncomprehending look in her eyes—like she didn’t know who he was—hit him harder than any punch he’d ever taken.
His throat tightened painfully.
He clenched his jaw and looked away, his voice rough. “Just… get to class,” he muttered, then turned and stalked off before his own tears could betray him.
It had been nearly impossible to focus on his final. The pages of the exam blurred before his eyes, questions dancing like cruel jokes. All he could see was Rosie—standing there in the courtyard, clutching her bag, her wide eyes full of fear and confusion as she looked at him like he was a stranger.
He’d never seen her like that. Never.
His pen hovered over the paper, but his mind kept replaying the moment. The way she shrank back, her lips trembling, her eyes darting between him and the others as if she was searching for someone she could trust—someone she didn’t even recognize.
It twisted his gut, clawed at his chest like an animal. The Rosie he knew was fiery, stubborn, always giving him shit for his attitude. She’d never looked at him like that.
He clenched his jaw, fingers tightening around his pen.
He’d never admit it aloud, but it scared him. He’d always been able to handle anything—villains, training, the weight of becoming a hero—but this? Seeing her like that, lost and alone, with no memory of him? It made him feel powerless.
He’d heard the words from Hawks and Akira, both of them telling him to give her space. That she needed time. That pushing her would only make it worse.
“Don’t overwhelm her, Bakugou,” Hawks had said, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “Let her come back on her own terms.”
“Katsuki, please,” Akira’s voice had wavered on the phone. “Don’t go to her. Let her heal. She needs time.”
He’d hated it. Hated every single word. But looking at her in the courtyard—so small, so fragile—he knew they were right.
He swallowed hard, forcing himself to answer another question, but his mind kept drifting. He could see her face so clearly: the vacant, confused eyes, the way her lips had tried to form words that didn’t come.
She didn’t know him.
He could scream. He wanted to. He wanted to grab her shoulders, shake her, make her remember. But he knew—he knew—that would only hurt her.
He sighed, pressing the heel of his palm against his eyes, swallowing the frustration, the ache in his chest. He’d have to keep his distance. Swallow everything he wanted to say. Let her heal at her own pace.
He’d have to be patient.
God, he hated patience.
Leaving his building, Katsuki’s steps felt heavy. His jaw tensed as he locked the door behind him, shoving his keys in his pocket. He’d need to get home to feed Lady, then throw himself into work. Pro hero duties were easier—villains he could punch, fires he could put out. A world that made sense.
He clenched his jaw harder, crossing the courtyard toward his car, head down, trying to outrun the memory of her.
Then he saw her.
Gorgeous, beautiful Rosie, her hair pulled back into a loose bun, her backpack slung over her shoulder. She was crossing the courtyard too, looking so familiar and yet so painfully different. Her face had no evidence of her earlier distress.
His chest clenched, panic rising like bile in his throat. He looked away, fixing his gaze on the pavement, picking up his pace.
Don’t look at her. Don’t make this harder.
He could feel her presence, like a warm breeze brushing his skin. “Wait!” Her voice sliced through the air like a blade, sharp and trembling.
He stiffened, every muscle coiled tight as a spring. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t face her.
“Please!” she called again, her footsteps quickening.
Against every instinct screaming at him to run, he stopped—because it was her voice. Because no matter how much he told himself to walk away, he couldn’t.
Slowly, he turned, his eyes finding hers. Those wide, soft eyes he’d memorized a hundred times—only now, they were filled with confusion, desperation.
“Katsuki, right?” his name slipped off her tongue so easily, so warm and familiar, like it belonged to her—like he belonged to her—and for one heart-stopping moment, he couldn't breathe as it made his entire body freeze and his heart ache.
He froze, his whole body taut with the weight of it, before forcing indifference into his voice. “Yeah?” he muttered, rough and hollow.
She beamed up at him—that same smile he used to see first thing every morning, the one he used to kiss off her face before she even opened her eyes—and it gutted him. Absolutely gutted him.
"I just wanted to thank you," she said sweetly, like she wasn't cracking him apart just by standing there.
Katsuki would swear on everything and everyone that she is light itself. The very sun, moon, and stars. How could she still shine so brightly, when he was the one left behind in the wreckage? She was light itself—sunlight, moonlight, starlight—and beauty wasn't a strong enough word for her. Not when she was everything. Everything he had loved, everything he had fought for. And now she didn’t even remember him.
“For what?” he rasped, clearing his throat, trying to choke down the bleeding, frantic need clawing its way out of him.
“For helping me."
Was she nervous? Of him ? Of course she was—he was a stranger to her now. She didn’t remember the nights they spent clinging to each other like the world would tear them apart. Didn’t remember how he held her through every nightmare, how she kissed every scar on his body like it was sacred, how she laughed—how she loved him. Gone. All of it. Every shared whispered secret, every starving kiss, every fervent glance—all burned to ash while he stood here alone, still bleeding inside the ruins of their life together.
He gritted his teeth. “I wasn’t helping you,” he lied, voice rough. “Save your gratitude for someone else.”
Coward. He couldn't even meet her eyes—because if he did, he’d lose it. He’d reach for her. He’d break every promise, every warning the doctors and Hawks hammered into his head. Give her space, they said. Don’t overwhelm her.
He risked a glance. And he wished he hadn't. Because there she was, her nose scrunched up, eyes glossed and dewy, lips trembling into an adorable pout. The exact face she used to make when she wanted his attention—when she wanted him to kiss her, to tease her, to pull her into his lap and keep her safe in his arms where nothing could touch her. All he could think about was squeezing her face and sinking his teeth into her. It took all his self control and restraint to not gather her in his arms, cradle her face, to coo in her ear, soothing her as she melted into his arms.
Every atom in his body screamed to reach for her. To cup her soft, precious face in his hands and kiss the confusion off her mouth. To whisper, It’s me, doll. It’s Katsuki. I’m right here. Come back to me.
But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He had to let her go. Even if it was killing him.
“Have I angered you?” she asked softly, voice laced with the kind of vulnerability that used to make him drop everything just to soothe her.
It was torture, pure and unfiltered. The scent of her, rainwater, berries, roses wrapped around him like a vice. He could barely think. His instincts screamed at him to pick her up, to hold her against him until she remembered, until she knew, until she was his again.
But he shoved the feeling down, deep enough to choke on it. “No,” he forced out.
And then he turned on his heel and fled—fled from her like a fucking coward—making a straight line for his car before he did something unforgivable.
He threw himself into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut behind him like it would somehow block out the overwhelming ache clawing up his throat. For a long moment, he just sat there, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles went white, breathing through his nose like a man about to explode.
Then he gave up and banged his head hard against the steering wheel. “Fuck my life,” he muttered, voice hoarse and broken.
The words Hawks had drilled into him rattled inside his skull.
Give her space. Don’t tell her yet. It could make it worse. She needs time.
Time? Time was killing him. Every second she didn’t remember him was another blade in his ribs.
How could he stand there like a stranger when all he wanted was to pull her into his arms and whisper every memory they had back into her soul? How was he supposed to survive pretending she wasn’t his ?
He pressed his forehead harder into the steering wheel and squeezed his eyes shut. “I’ll wait,” he whispered to the empty car. “I’ll wait however long it takes.”
Because she was still his girl —even if she didn’t know it yet, didn’t remember that fact. And Katsuki Bakugou would burn down the whole world before he gave up on her.
Notes:
So we’ll be going back to switching POVs between Katsuki and Rosie like in the beginning🤭
Technically Rosie is getting a break as in she has no memory and now it’s Katsuki who is getting tortured😏
I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, let me know your thoughts please as going forward, we won’t be seeing much interaction between Katsuki and Rosie for the next ten chapters.
Chapter 107: Horror is about the human condition
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie blinked as she stood in line for the movie, watching Akira and Monoma standing in front of her, smiling and chatting. Their laughter and easy banter made her feel like a third wheel—though both of them had insisted she wasn’t. She fidgeted with the strap of her purse, rocking on her pink kitten heels, the chill in the air biting at her bare shoulders. She’d dressed cute—a white babydoll dress that fluttered at the hem—but she was beginning to regret not bringing a jacket or sweater.
After they bought tickets, they made their way to the concession stand. Rosie ordered a large popcorn with M&M’s mixed in and a cherry cola—her usual order. Following them into the theater, they climbed the stairs, finding seats near the middle row. Rosie sat down and balanced the popcorn on her lap, careful not to spill any.
“Oh my god, you guys are here too?”
She looked up and saw Kanako and Shinso walking up the steps. Kanako wore a cute, cropped sweater and black jeans, while Shinso wore a dark hoodie and jeans. Rosie’s eyes lit up and she smiled, waving at them.
“Hi, Kanako! Shinso!”
Kanako grinned and waved back. “Hey, girl! Look at you—so cute in that dress!”
Shinso gave a small nod, his eyes softening. “Hey, Rosie.”
They found seats on either side of Akira and Monoma, leaving Rosie sandwiched awkwardly between the two couples. She shifted uncomfortably, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that everyone around her seemed to have someone—and she didn’t. She forced a small smile, focusing on her popcorn.
Just then, she glanced down the aisle and saw Shoto walk in, flanked by Sero and Kaminari. They all carried sodas and snacks, and when they spotted her, they waved. Relief washed over her, and she raised her hand, waving them over.
“Hey!” she called out, her voice a little too eager. “I’m gonna sit with them,” she said to Akira, who nodded in understanding.
She moved down two rows and settled between Shoto and Kaminari, hugging the popcorn to her chest. Her heart still raced with the anxiety that had lingered ever since she woke up in the hospital. It had only been a week and a half since she’d opened her eyes and found herself surrounded by people she didn’t know—but who claimed to love her.
Everyone had been kind, patient—but it didn’t erase the unease that gnawed at her. They all made small talk as the ads played on the screen. Sero cracked a joke that had Kaminari snorting into his drink. Rosie felt herself relax just a little.
“You know,” Kaminari said, grinning, “we should take a picture. Like, a reunion selfie.”
Rosie hesitated but nodded, giving a shy smile. “Yeah, okay.”
Kaminari held out his phone and gathered everyone close. She pressed her cheek against Shoto’s shoulder, smiling nervously at the camera. After the flash, she turned to Kaminari.
“Um… would you mind sending that to me?” she asked, her voice soft.
“Of course!” Kaminari beamed, and he gave her his number.
Just as the trailers started to play, Kaminari and Sero launched into a heated debate about whether movie trailers ruined the plot. Rosie found herself left alone with Shoto, who had settled back in his seat, watching the screen with a calm expression.
She shivered slightly, and he noticed. Without a word, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
“Thanks,” she said, pulling it tight around herself. It smelled like him—clean, a hint of soap and something smoky, like cedar.
He gave her a small, reassuring smile. “No problem.”
A moment of quiet passed before she worked up the courage to ask him, “Shoto… were we… good friends before I lost my memory?”
He looked at her, his eyes warm and honest, mismatched hues glowing faintly in the dim light of the theater. “Yeah,” he said softly, his voice steady. “We were best friends.”
Her breath hitched, and she blinked back tears she hadn’t realized were forming. “Best friends,” she repeated, feeling a small spark of comfort—and sadness—all at once.
Why couldn’t she just remember?
They exited the theater, the night air sharp and biting as it swept through the parking lot. Rosie shivered and tugged Shoto’s jacket closer around her shoulders. Shoto, Sero, and Kaminari walked on either side of her, while the two couples—Akira and Monoma, Kanako and Shinso—ambled behind them, chatting and laughing about the movie’s jump scares.
Sero threw his head back and laughed. “No way, Kaminari, the best jump scare was when the girl opened the medicine cabinet and the thing was behind the mirror. Classic!”
Kaminari scoffed, rolling his eyes. “That was so predictable! The bathroom mirror is the oldest trick in the book. The best one was when the possessed doll just dropped from the ceiling—no music, no warning.”
Rosie, feeling more at ease than she had in days, couldn’t help but jump into the conversation with an eager glint in her eye. “Oh, please! The bathroom mirror scene was such a cheap scare. Anyone who’s seen more than two horror movies could spot that coming from a mile away.”
Kaminari’s eyebrows shot up. “Cheap scare? That doll dropping from the ceiling was the cheapest scare of them all!”
Sero smirked. “Whoa, whoa—hold up. Let’s not forget the tension built up in the scene before the bathroom. The atmosphere was killer. You can’t deny that.”
Rosie crossed her arms, her eyes sparking with the kind of fire she hadn’t shown since she woke up in the hospital. “Yeah, sure, but the atmosphere was built to subvert expectations. The director used tight framing and disorienting sound design to make us think something was coming from behind her. Then—bam!—it was under the bed! That’s real craftsmanship.”
Kaminari leaned forward, eyes wide. “Oh, now you’re pulling out the technical stuff, huh? You sound like a horror film critic.”
Rosie’s lips curled into a triumphant grin. “I am a horror movie connoisseur, thank you very much. And the entire point of a jump scare is to subvert expectations while still making sense. The doll from the ceiling was lazy. It didn’t match the buildup they’d established. It was just shock value—like a cheap funhouse scare.”
Sero let out a low whistle. “She’s got a point, bro. She’s schooling us.”
Rosie laughed—a real, bright laugh that made her eyes crinkle at the corners. “Finally! Someone who gets it. Horror is about building dread, not just throwing a cat at the screen and calling it a day.”
Kaminari held up his hands in surrender, a grin spreading across his face. “Okay, okay, I get it! You’ve thought about this way more than I have.”
Rosie’s smile softened, her heart beating with a kind of energy she hadn’t felt since before she’d woken up in the hospital. “It’s just… it’s something I really care about. Horror is about the human condition—fear, trauma, survival. It’s more than just jump scares. When it’s done right, it sticks with you.”
Sero raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Well damn, Rosie. I didn’t know you were this passionate about movies.”
Rosie’s cheeks warmed, but she felt a new sense of confidence. “Yeah… I guess I am.”
Shoto walked silently beside her, his mismatched eyes softening as he listened to her laughter. He didn’t say much, but his quiet presence felt reassuring, grounding.
A few paces behind them, Akira and Monoma shared a knowing smile, while Kanako looped her arm through Shinso’s, both of them glancing at Rosie with pride.
When they reached the sidewalk outside the theater, Akira nudged Rosie’s shoulder. “Hey, we’re gonna head to karaoke,” she said, gesturing to the group behind her. “Monoma’s been dying to show off his new high note.”
Monoma gave a mock bow. “Naturally.”
Kanako winked. “Shinso’s gonna be my backup dancer.”
Shinso sighed dramatically but didn’t argue.
Rosie laughed but felt a pang of hesitation. She didn’t want to leave—not yet. Being with Shoto, Kaminari, and Sero made her feel at ease, something she hadn’t felt since she woke up.
Shoto noticed the shift in her eyes, the way she hesitated and clutched the jacket closer. “You don’t have to go with them,” he said softly, his tone gentle. “Sero, Kaminari, and I are heading to Silven’s to play pool and grab a couple of drinks. You’re welcome to join us.”
Her eyes brightened, her heart skipping a beat. “I’d love that,” she said, her voice small but sure.
Shoto nodded, his lips lifting in a small but genuine smile. “Great. Let’s go.”
Rosie felt warm—though she couldn’t tell if it was from the drinks, the laughter, or the company. The small bar they’d found themselves in was dimly lit, with neon lights reflecting off polished wooden tables. She stood by the pool table, a cue in hand, while Shoto, Kaminari, and Sero laughed and bantered around her.
“So then —” Kaminari grinned, leaning across the table dramatically, “—I’m dangling off the side of this building with, like, a thousand volts of electricity sparking off my hands, and Sero’s shouting at me to ‘hold on!’”
Rosie giggled, eyes bright. “What happened then?”
Sero held up his hands, his grin splitting his face. “He didn’t hold on. He slipped and fried the railing on the way down!”
Kaminari’s cheeks flushed pink as he raked a hand through his hair. “Hey, I didn’t fry the whole railing! Just…part of it. And at least I didn’t scream like a toddler when the villain threw that car at us.”
Rosie’s laugh was music, light and genuine. “You two are like a pair of comedic supervillains.”
Kaminari clutched his chest in mock agony. “Ouch, that hurts! You wound me, Rosie.”
Sero leaned back against the bar, raising an eyebrow. “Nah, she’s right. We are a bit chaotic on the field.”
They continued telling her about some of their more harrowing—and hilarious—missions, and Rosie found herself drawn in. Their stories made her feel a little less like a stranger in her own life. Each time she laughed, the tight knot in her chest loosened a little more.
But every time she stole a glance at Shoto, she noticed he was always there. Watching her. Hovering. Always quick to fetch her a fresh drink or quietly offer help. And every time he did, she couldn’t help but wonder: Does he like me?
That thought alone made her cheeks flush with warmth she couldn’t blame on the alcohol.
“Your turn, Rosie!” Kaminari called, waving her over to the table.
She smiled, taking a breath to steady herself. She lined up her shot—but her hands trembled just enough that she missed the cue ball entirely.
She cursed softly, her cheeks heating up. “Ugh. Sorry, I—”
“Here, let me help.” Shoto’s calm voice sent a shiver down her spine. He moved closer, his tall, broad frame filling her peripheral vision. She could smell his cologne—something subtle, clean—and her breath hitched.
He stepped behind her, so close she could feel the warmth of his chest at her back. One of his hands rested lightly on her waist, guiding her stance, while the other adjusted her grip on the cue. “Relax your shoulders,” he murmured. “You’re too tense.”
Rosie swallowed hard, her heart hammering. “Okay…”
“Good,” he said softly, his breath brushing her ear, making her shiver again. “Now, line up the shot. Keep your focus on the point where you want to hit the ball. Don’t overthink it.”
His voice was so calm, so steady, so…close. Rosie felt heat pool in her stomach. She focused on his directions, her hands trembling slightly as she took the shot—this time, the ball sank perfectly into the pocket.
She turned to him, grinning despite her nerves. “Thanks… I guess I just needed a little help.”
Shoto’s eyes met hers, his heterochromatic gaze steady and warm. “You’re welcome.”
Behind them, Sero whistled. “Damn, Todoroki—next thing you’ll be giving her lessons in karaoke, too.”
Kaminari cracked up. “Or cooking lessons! She’ll never get rid of him!”
Rosie’s face went scarlet, but she couldn’t stop smiling—especially when Shoto’s hand brushed her waist one last time before he stepped back, giving her space. And as she watched him retreat, she couldn’t help but wonder just how close they’d been before her accident—and how close they could be again.
Shoto’s hands gripped the steering wheel lightly as he drove through the quiet streets, the orange glow of streetlights slipping across the dashboard in rhythm with the passing blocks. Every now and then, he glanced to the side and saw Rosie in the passenger seat, her head lolling slightly with the movement of the car.
She’d had more than her fair share of drinks that night, but it hadn’t taken much to push her past her limit—she’d always been a lightweight, even before the accident. Amnesia hadn’t changed that about her.
He found himself staring at her profile longer than he should have, at the way her cheeks were still flushed from the alcohol, lips parted as she breathed softly in sleep. A part of him ached—she looked so peaceful, so familiar, yet so… different.
He parked in front of her apartment building and shut off the engine. The click of the cooling metal echoed in the silence.
“Rosie,” he said gently, reaching over to touch her shoulder. She stirred, her eyes fluttering open with a confused, bleary look.
“Hmm?” she mumbled.
“We’re home,” he said, voice soft. “Come on.”
She leaned heavily against him as he helped her from the car, draping one of her arms over his shoulder while his other arm wrapped around her waist to steady her.
The night air was brisk, making her shiver in her white dress. Shoto frowned slightly and adjusted his pace, quickening his steps as he guided her through the glass doors and into the lobby.
The front desk attendant glanced up and gave a polite nod, but Shoto returned it with a brief, tight smile and didn’t slow down. He didn’t want to give anyone a chance to ask questions. Rosie’s head was drooping already, her eyelids fighting to stay open.
They reached the elevator, and he pressed the button. He could feel the weight of her against his side—she trusted him completely, and the knowledge both comforted and pained him.
The elevator doors slid open with a quiet chime. He helped her inside, and she leaned against the wall, her eyes closing again. He pressed the button for her floor and stood next to her, watching the numbers tick upward.
When they reached her apartment, he carefully balanced her against the door as he fished her keys from her small purse. “Almost there,” he murmured, unlocking the door and guiding her inside.
She mumbled something incoherent, her head lolling forward as she fought sleep.
“Do you need anything?” he asked gently, steering her toward her bedroom.
She mumbled again, but this time he caught, “’M fine… thanks…” Her voice was barely a whisper.
He helped her to the bed, helping her slip her heels off before pulling the covers back and easing her down gently. Her eyes were already closed, her breathing slow and deep. He pulled the blanket up around her, tucking it close.
As he straightened, ready to leave, something caught his eye. On the wall near her bed—where he knew there had once been photos, drawings, notes, pieces of her favorite memories—a white sheet was pinned up, covering everything.
His brows furrowed, and he felt a pang in his chest. Akira, he thought. It had to be her—always protective, always trying to shield Rosie from the pain of memories she couldn’t reach.
He sighed, his hand lingering on the edge of the sheet for a moment, tempted to pull it back. But he stopped himself. Instead, he glanced at Rosie, sleeping soundly in the bed, and whispered, “Goodnight.”
With one last look at the covered memories, he turned and left her room, closing the door softly behind him.
It wasn’t until he got to his car that his phone vibrated with a notification—Kaminari had tagged him in a photo on Linked. Shoto let it sit in his notifications until he reached the next red light, then he picked up the phone and opened the app.
A small smile played at the corners of his lips as he scrolled through the photos: the one at the movie theatre, Rosie’s shy smile glowing in the low light; another at Silven’s, all of them mid-cheer with their drinks raised; and then the last one, taken from a distance—he and Rosie stood in the background, both smiling a little shyly, a touch hesitant, while Kaminari and Sero hammed it up in the foreground with arms around each other’s shoulders.
He clicked the small heart icon to like the post, but his smile faded as he stared at that last picture. Rosie’s soft expression, the way she kept to herself even in a group of friends—it brought back a flood of memories from before the accident.
Despite everything—despite losing her memories—she had reverted to that same shy, nervous girl he had met nearly a year ago. She was back to being soft-spoken, hesitant, overwhelmed by large groups, her guard so easily rattled. It bothered him.
He’d seen how easily the crowd could overwhelm her—how she’d looked at him earlier that night when they’d been at Silven’s. Her eyes had been wide, uncertain, searching. She’d needed him, and he’d felt something in his chest tighten.
He gripped the steering wheel a little harder as the light turned green. He didn’t like that she was back at square one, unsure of herself, having to start over with every single relationship—friends, even him.
His protective instincts surged—a burning desire to shield her from anything that might hurt her, to make sure no one treated her like some fragile thing that might shatter. She might be soft, but she was strong too. He had to remind himself of that.
But even so… he’d be damned if he let anyone make her feel alone.
He took a deep breath and continued driving, his mind already turning over how he could be there for her—how he could make her smile more like she used to.
Notes:
So we are getting some Shoto, Kaminari, and Sero action just because they need love too. Next chapter will be Katsuki's POV which is really fun to read, at least in my opinion haha
anyway, hope you guys loved the chapter, please let me know your thoughts and have a lovely day💖
Chapter 108: I could never be friends with you
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki woke up to the smell of something sweet and warm—vanilla, maybe pancakes, and something else that reminded him of lazy Sunday mornings. He blinked groggily and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, then swung his legs over the side of the bed.
The sun was barely up, casting a gentle glow across the floor. He padded barefoot into the kitchen, the scent growing stronger.
There she was—Rosie—in his kitchen, wearing one of those cute, tiny pajama sets she always liked: shorts that left most of her thighs bare, and a thin tank top that clung to her curves. Her hair was messy, a single lock falling over her cheek as she hummed a sweet tune while flipping something on the stove.
She turned to him with a bright, sleepy smile that made his heart trip. “Good morning, darling,” she said, voice like sunshine. She lifted a spatula and waved it at him like a wand. “You should hurry up or you’ll be late to work.”
Before she could say another word, he was in front of her—one large hand sliding to the back of her neck, pulling her in close. His lips crushed hers in a hot, possessive kiss. She gasped, the spatula clattering onto the counter as he deepened the kiss, lifting her effortlessly and setting her on the countertop.
“Wait—” she murmured breathlessly against his mouth. “Pomchi, breakfast—”
“Don’t care,” he growled, his voice rough, his mouth brushing her jaw, her neck, back to her lips.
“But it’ll burn—”
“Let it,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over her cheek, his other hand tangling in her hair.
Her soft moan made his stomach tighten. She melted against him, her legs curling around his waist as he pressed even closer, losing himself in her.
His eyes flew open. He was in his bed, alone. The room was dark, shadows stretching across the ceiling. His chest heaved as he sat up, sweat trickling down his temples. His hands trembled slightly as he raked them through his hair. “Shit…” he muttered under his breath.
Just a dream. Just a damn dream.
Katsuki’s eyes fluttered open, sweat glistening on his skin. His heart pounded like a war drum, his pulse refusing to settle as he stared at the darkened ceiling of his bedroom. The ghost of her touch, the echo of her smile—he could still feel them on his skin, like a brand he couldn’t wash off.
He swallowed thickly, his throat tight, his mouth dry. The phantom taste of her kiss lingered, bitter and sweet all at once. His stomach twisted painfully, a cold nausea clawing at his insides.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, pressing his palms into his thighs, trying to steady himself. His breathing came hard and uneven, a rough edge to every exhale.
He felt sick. He needed to get away—he needed to move.
He trudged to the bathroom, flicking on the harsh fluorescent light that made his skin look even paler, his eyes sunken with exhaustion. He turned on the shower, cranked it to nearly scalding, and stepped in, letting the heat wash over him. It felt like punishment, but he welcomed it.
Why does it have to hurt this much?
He scrubbed his skin raw, but it didn’t rid him of the memory of her smile or the dream of her lips. Nothing did.
When he stepped out, toweling himself off, he didn’t bother to shave or style his hair. He dressed in his Pro Hero uniform—grim, all business, his mind already a thousand miles away. He didn’t even glance in the mirror.
He grabbed his keys, locked up, and left.
Lately, he’d been spending every waking hour between work and the gym. He couldn’t stand being in his apartment—it felt too empty, too cold, too damn haunted by her absence. He only came home to shower, to sleep, and to take care of Lady.
The gym kept him occupied, at least. The iron and sweat and relentless reps gave him something to focus on—something to hold back the ache in his chest.
And now, with his new assignment on the line, he threw himself into the mission. Anything to keep himself from thinking about the dreams—about the way she’d looked at him in that kitchen, the way she’d said his name. Anything to drown out the memory of her. Because it was easier to fight villains than to fight the ghosts of the one person he couldn’t forget.
“Fuck no,” Katsuki hissed through the phone, his tone sharp and final. “I’m not going to the damn party. I’ve got better shit to do.”
On the other end of the line, Kirishima’s cheerful laughter nearly made him crush his phone in frustration. “Aw, come on, man! Mina’s been working her ass off on the decorations all day, and she really wants everyone to come by tonight. It’s gonna be fun—food, drinks, games, the works!” Kirishima’s voice oozed that easygoing optimism that usually grated on Katsuki’s nerves.
“Don’t you guys have enough people for that crap?” Katsuki growled, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in his chair.
“Yeah, but it’s not the same without you, bro!” Kirishima pressed, his tone softening a bit. “Look, I know you’ve been working like crazy lately. Maybe you just need a night to chill with your friends. You’ve earned it.”
Katsuki glared at the ceiling, jaw clenched. He hated how Kirishima always knew exactly what buttons to push. “I’m not gonna stand around and watch everyone get drunk and dance like idiots.”
“You don’t have to dance,” Kirishima laughed. “Just come, grab some food, hang out for a bit. Please? It’s starting soon.”
A sigh slipped through Katsuki’s lips. Damn that idiot and his stupid puppy-dog loyalty. “Fine,” he muttered. “But I’m not staying all night.”
“Deal!” Kirishima whooped, loud enough that Katsuki pulled the phone away from his ear. “See you soon!”
Katsuki hung up with a huff, shoving the phone into his pocket. He stalked to the bathroom and turned on the shower, stripping off his sweaty workout clothes and stepping under the scalding spray.
Why the hell am I even going? he wondered as the water rushed over him. But deep down, he knew. It had been a while since he’d seen the others—since he’d let himself breathe.
After his shower, he toweled off and ran a hand through his damp hair. He threw on a black t-shirt that clung to his broad chest, a dark pair of jeans, and his signature black combat boots. He checked himself in the mirror, jaw tight and expression unreadable.
“Let’s get this over with,” he muttered.
With that, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door, ready to face whatever the hell Mina and Kirishima had in store for him.
Katsuki had barely set foot inside Kirishima’s house when he was hit by the sheer volume of music and chatter. The place was packed—Mina’s parties always were—and laughter and clinking glasses filled the air.
“Katsuki! Man, you made it!” Kirishima shouted over the noise, his grin wide enough to split his face. He clapped him on the back and shoved a cold beer into his hand. “You gotta catch up!”
Kaminari swooped in next, already grinning like an idiot. “Bakugou, you’re here! Let’s get a game going!”
Katsuki rolled his eyes but allowed himself to be dragged into the living room, where a group was already starting a rowdy round of King’s Cup. For the next two hours, he let himself get caught up in the chaos—laughing as Kirishima pulled a dare that made him sing karaoke off-key, groaning when Kaminari tried to “out-drink” everyone (and failed spectacularly), and crushing them all at Mario Kart in a fierce display of his competitive streak.
For the first time in weeks, he actually felt… normal. Like himself. Like his life hadn’t gone up in fucking flames.
But that feeling evaporated the moment he came back from the bathroom and spotted her.
Rosie.
She was so effortlessly beautiful that it made his chest tighten. For a moment, he couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
What the hell is she doing here?
It was like the rest of the party faded away, replaced by the rapid thud of his heart. He clenched his jaw, the beer in his hand forgotten, as he tried to process the flood of emotions crashing over him.
All he could do was stare at her from across the room, a hundred thoughts spinning in his mind and no idea which one to say first. Katsuki clenched his jaw, the muscle twitching as he stood still in the doorway, fingers curling tightly into his palms until his knuckles turned white. His eyes didn’t leave her. Couldn’t.
She stood on the far side of the room by the windows, bathed in warm afternoon light that filtered in like a spotlight, illuminating the soft pink strands of her hair like spun sugar. Her laughter—light and melodic—echoed faintly above the background hum of the common room, and it pierced through him like a blade dulled only by familiarity. She was giggling at something Mina said, one hand covering her mouth while her eyes crinkled into crescent moons, cheeks flushed with delight and alcohol. Uraraka nudged her playfully, and Rosie leaned into her, bumping shoulders, radiating warmth.
She didn’t even glance his way.
No faltering breath. No spark of recognition in those blue eyes that used to hold the universe for him. She didn’t remember. Didn’t remember him or the relationship they once shared. But Katsuki? He remembered everything.
He remembered the way she used to whisper to him on late nights, her words like spells spun from sweet tea steam and the scent of her winter strawberry shampoo. He remembered the dreamy slow evenings where she sat curled up in one of his sweaters—sleeves too long for her hands—as she read next to him on the couch, her bare legs pulled under her. He remembered her soft kisses, how she’d nuzzle into his chest like a kitten when she wanted his attention.
He remembered how she loved spring more than any other season, how her sketchbook was always close by, filled with flowers, half-written poems, and the little post it notes he would leave for her. How she cried during sad movies and always smelled of berries, rainwater, and roses. How she loved lacy shirts and heels, how she left chocolate in his jacket pockets with silly notes. How she fell in love with everything and everyone too easily, and how she had loved him.
He’d loved her fiercely— still did —but now, he was a ghost haunting her life.
She had no idea of the life they once shared. And it was killing him slowly.
The worst part wasn’t the forgetting. It was how happy she looked. Untouched by the weight of what they’d been. Free. Open. Still sweet. Still herself. Just… without him. It felt wrong. Like watching someone live in a house he used to call home, except all his photos had been taken down and burned, and no one remembered he ever lived there.
He wanted to storm over. Grab her by the shoulders and make her remember. Shake the memories back into her. Remind her of the late-night texts, the soul-deep kisses, the promises whispered in half-sleep. The way she said his name like it was precious.
But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Because she looked so happy. Because to her, he was just Katsuki Bakugou. Another classmate, a mutual friend. Because if he said something… it would only hurt her. Confuse her. And she didn’t deserve that. She deserved peace and joy.
She deserved the soft world she dreamed of: filled with book piles and picnics, laced blouses, barefoot walks through the garden, warm cookies cooling on the counter.
He stared at her as the light danced in her eyes and the pink of her hair fluttered gently as she turned to laugh again. And he burned. He ached . Because she wasn’t his anymore. And she didn’t even know what they had lost.
Katsuki set his beer down, the taste of it suddenly bitter on his tongue. “I’m heading home,” he muttered, his voice tight, and turned on his heel before anyone could stop him.
“Wait, man—!” Kirishima’s voice cut through the party noise, his hand catching Katsuki’s shoulder.
Katsuki stopped but didn’t turn around. “I have an assignment in the morning,” he said curtly. He shook Kirishima’s hand off like it was nothing, like Kirishima hadn’t been the only one who had his back all these months.
He barely felt the cold night air as he grabbed his coat and headed down the steps, each one feeling heavier than the last. His mind was a mess—a tangled knot of anger, longing, and regret.
I shouldn’t have come. I should’ve stayed at the damn gym. Should’ve stayed buried in my work. Should’ve stayed away from her.
But of course, he couldn’t stay away.
The door creaked open behind him, and he froze at the sound of her voice.
“Wait.”
His heart lurched at the softness of it, the way her voice still made his chest ache. He turned slowly, every muscle tense, and saw her standing at the top of the steps. Rosie.
Her big, doe eyes blinked at him, glossy pink lips slightly parted. God, she’s so fucking beautiful. Even now, even with her memory gone. Maybe especially now, because she looked at him like he was a stranger, and that hurt more than anything.
“Why are you leaving?” she asked, voice soft and hesitant.
He swallowed hard. “Hawks is sending me on an assignment to Yokohama.” It felt like a lie, even though it was the truth—he’d go anywhere to get away from this.
Her lips parted in surprise, and she took a small step closer, the air between them charged with something he couldn’t name. “Then why do you look so hurt?”
That hit him like a punch to the gut. She’d always been too fucking perceptive for her own good. Even now, with her memories scrambled, that bleeding heart of hers still saw right through him.
Why does she care?
He clenched his jaw, his voice rough. “I’m just tired lately. Just need some sleep.” Another lie. He hadn’t slept properly in weeks, not since she’d woken up and looked at him like he was a stranger.
Her eyes filled with concern, and she stepped down to the same step as him. “Have I done something to make you act so cold towards me?”
Fuck. No.
He wanted to grab her. To pull her close and kiss the breath from her lips. To tell her that she could never do anything wrong, that he’d fight a hundred villains just to see her smile again. That he loved her.
But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let himself go there. If he did, he’d never let go. He forced himself to look at her with that same cold mask he’d perfected, even though it was killing him inside. “No,” he grunted.
She frowned, biting that perfect pink lip like she always did when she was confused or hurt. “Can’t we just be friends?”
His chest squeezed so tight he could barely breathe. Friends. He could never be just friends with her. He’d always want more—he’d always want everything .
He bit his tongue, the words burning. He lifted his hand, grasping her chin roughly, forcing her to look up at him. Her eyes widened, glistening with unshed tears. “I could never be friends with you,” he growled, his voice low and ragged. “It’s better if you keep away from me.” He let go of her like she’d burned him, his heart screaming at him to do the opposite—to pull her close and tell her that he needed her, wanted her, loved her.
But he didn’t.
He turned and walked away, his chest tight, every step a betrayal of everything he felt.
As soon as he got home, Katsuki did his best to avoid staying here as much as possible. Why? Because every damn inch of this place was haunted by her.
Every corner seemed to hold a memory, an echo of her laughter, her smile, her presence. It was like she’d left invisible fingerprints everywhere, and he couldn’t scrub them away no matter how many times he cleaned.
He’d turn a corner, half-expecting to see her curled up on the couch, wrapped in that pink blanket she’d stolen from his bed, a mug of coffee—hers always half full, sweet enough to rot his teeth—cradled in her hands. Her head would be thrown back in a carefree laugh, hair spilling over her shoulder in a perfect mess of curls, eyes bright with mischief.
But the apartment was empty now. The walls were too quiet, too hollow. Even Lady’s soft, comforting purrs couldn’t fill the void. The ache inside him was too big, too raw.
Everywhere he looked: her clothes still draped over the back of the chair she always used, the pink toothbrush in the bathroom cup, and the faint, sweet scent of her perfume that clung stubbornly to the couch cushions.
It was like a ghost had taken up residence in his home—her ghost.
He clenched his jaw, dropping his bag by the door.
I can’t live here anymore.
Lady meowed softly, winding herself between his legs, tail brushing against his shin. He bent down, scooping the small cat into his arms. She blinked up at him with wide amber eyes, purring as she rubbed her head against his cheek.
“I know you miss her too,” he muttered, his voice hoarse as he pressed his nose into her soft fur. “I miss her too, Lady.”
She purred louder, her small body vibrating against his chest, as if trying to comfort him.
Katsuki exhaled shakily, holding her a little tighter. Then he turned and walked into the living room, setting Lady down on the couch before grabbing his laptop from the coffee table. He booted it up, the screen’s glow illuminating his tired, worn face.
His jaw tightened as he opened his browser and typed in “houses.”
Lady meowed again, hopping onto the arm of the couch and watching him with curious eyes. Katsuki reached out, giving her a gentle scratch under the chin. “We’ll find a place,” he whispered.
He sighed, shifting the laptop closer as he began his search, the ache in his chest a constant reminder that no matter how far he ran, some ghosts would always follow. And this ghost smelled of rainwater, berries, and roses and tasted of strawberry lipgloss.
Notes:
hope you guys enjoyed this chapter💖 lemme know your thoughts and see you tomorrow
also don’t forget to check out my other stories in this series or my other works in general💖🙂↕️
Chapter 109: Rosie had a boyfriend before she lost her memory?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The warm soak of the pedicure tub bubbled around her feet, pink flower petals floating on the surface while the nail technician gently massaged her calves with vanilla-scented lotion. Rosie tilted her head back with a soft sigh, the glass of rosé in her hand catching a glint of sunlight from the salon window.
Akira sat beside her, already tipsy, chatting animatedly with Maerya about a pop-up gallery coming to campus, while Kanako was deep in a dramatic retelling of a failed situationship, making everyone laugh between sips of wine.
Rosie smiled faintly at the energy around her—bubbly, loud, vibrant. It made her feel a little lighter, a little less... lost.
But despite the warm laughter and the pampering, her mind kept drifting.
To him.
The blonde with the sharp tongue and the sharper eyes.
Katsuki.
He hadn’t said much to her, not really. What little he did say was short, clipped—cold. And yet every word from him lingered in her mind like smoke.
“I could never be friends with you.”
Those words had stayed lodged in her chest since the party. His tone was final, as if even the suggestion of friendship was insulting to him. But it was the way he looked at her—like her question had cut him, like it hurt him to even hear it—that confused her the most.
She didn’t understand him.
Why did he look so wounded when she asked if they could just be friends? Why did his jaw clench like he was fighting to keep something down? And why… why did he keep his distance?
He was always just at the edge of her world. Watching. Avoiding. Leaving the second she got too close.
Yet the way his eyes flickered with something—something raw—when they landed on her made her stomach twist with confusion.
It was like she made him angry just by existing , and yet he looked at her like he missed her.
Rosie blinked, the nail technician gently tapping her ankle to get her attention. “Sorry,” she mumbled with a sheepish smile, adjusting in her seat.
“Lost in thought?” Akira asked knowingly, sipping her wine.
Rosie gave a weak shrug. “Just thinking.”
“About your interaction with the explosion god himself?” Kanako teased with a grin, raising her eyebrows.
Rosie’s eyes widened slightly, cheeks warming. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to,” Maerya said, tossing a wink. “It’s written all over your face.”
Rosie laughed softly, pressing the cool rim of her glass to her flushed cheek. “I just… I don’t get him. He’s always so cold. And yet… I don’t know. There’s something in the way he looks at me sometimes. Like he wants to say something but doesn’t.”
The girls grew quiet for a beat, exchanging glances.
Akira rested a hand on Rosie’s shoulder. “Maybe he’s dealing with more than he’s willing to admit. Some people put up walls not to keep others out, but because they don’t trust themselves to let anyone in.”
Rosie stared into her wine, swirling the pink liquid slowly.
She didn’t remember Katsuki. Not really. But her heart ached when she thought of him. Like there was a scar beneath her ribs that still remembered something her mind didn’t.
“I just wish I knew what I did to make him hate me.”
“Rosie,” Kanako said gently, “he doesn’t hate you. If anything, he’s always been harsh and abrasive to everyone. You can just ask Izuku, they grew up together.”
Rosie bit her lip, unsure whether that thought made her feel better—or worse.
She turned her gaze out the salon window, the afternoon sun filtering through the glass in soft golden ribbons. Her nails sparkled, her toes were pink and glossy, the wine buzzed in her veins—but her heart was tangled in someone she couldn’t remember, and a pain she didn’t understand.
And the more she tried to forget that stormy look in his eyes, the more it haunted her.
Akira leaned back in her chair, waving her freshly manicured fingers with a proud grin. “Monoma’s been so sweet lately. He bought me these little chocolate-covered strawberries from that patisserie near campus. And he wrote this dumb little note and tucked it into my bag when I wasn’t looking. It said, ‘For the prettiest girl who forgets to eat when she’s working too hard.’ ”
Kanako let out a dreamy sigh. “God, you’re living a shoujo manga.”
“Right?” Akira beamed, clearly smitten. “I don’t even know when it happened, but I look at him now and I’m like, damn, he’s cute when he’s not being a menace. ”
Everyone laughed—well, everyone except Maerya.
Rosie’s smile faded just slightly as she glanced toward the quiet girl. Maerya’s glass was still half-full, her perfectly glossed lips set in a straight line. She didn’t laugh, didn’t comment, just nodded softly and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, eyes fixed on the swirling wine in her glass.
Rosie tilted her head slightly, watching her. There was something… hollow in her expression. A tightness in her shoulders that hadn’t been there earlier. Something restrained.
Does she…?
The realization struck Rosie like a soft wave: Maerya had a crush on Akira.
It wasn’t obvious—not to the others, maybe—but Rosie saw it now. The way Maerya always sat closest to her, always leaned in when Akira talked. The way her eyes had flicked down and away just now, like she couldn’t bear to hear how happy Akira was with someone else.
Rosie didn’t say anything. It wasn’t her place. And honestly… she wasn’t sure she was equipped to handle anyone else's tangled heart right now, not when hers was already cracked down the middle by a man with wildfire eyes and a mouth full of bitterness.
So she just looked away.
She lifted her wine glass and took a long sip. The rosé was crisp and fruity, and she let the sweetness coat her tongue, drowning her curiosity.
Akira and Kanako were laughing again about something Monoma did during their group project, and Maerya gave a small, polite chuckle, slipping her mask back into place. Rosie didn’t pry.
She wouldn’t meddle.
Instead, she reached for the small plate of fruit slices, popping a grape into her mouth and leaning back in her chair.
The nail tech had moved on to her fingernails, gently filing them into soft rounded almond shapes. Rosie stared down at her hands—still trembling faintly from all the wine—still trying not to think about the way Katsuki’s hand had gripped her chin that night… the intensity in his voice… the heat behind his denial. “I could never be friends with you.”
She closed her eyes and let the music in the salon, the scent of rose oil, and the warmth of the wine pull her far, far away from that memory. At least for now.
The nail salon had left all four girls feeling pampered and relaxed, their fingers and toes glossy and fresh with pastel pinks, shimmering nudes, and delicate flowers. The air was light with laughter as they stepped into the smoothie shop next door, the warm afternoon sun filtering in through the windows.
Maerya and Akira hovered near the menu board, deep in debate.
“I’m telling you, the mango dragonfruit is elite,” Akira argued, jabbing her finger at the chalkboard.
“But it’s so sweet,” Maerya countered, biting her straw thoughtfully. “I want something lighter. Maybe matcha or something with coconut…”
Kanako, always decisive, was already at the counter with her wallet out, ordering her usual: a banana-blueberry protein smoothie, extra almond butter. She turned with a triumphant grin just as the bell over the shop door jingled again.
“Shinso!” she called, lifting her hand in a lazy wave.
The tall purple-haired boy stepped inside, his expression cool as ever but his posture relaxing when his eyes landed on Kanako. “Hey babe,” he said simply, offering her a faint smile. “I thought I’d pick you up,” he added, slipping his hands into his pockets.
Kanako smiled but pointed to the counter. “I still need to wait for my smoothie,” she said. “And I need to use the bathroom, so don’t disappear.” She gave him a light poke on the chest as she passed, disappearing around the corner toward the restrooms.
That left Rosie by the small counter, flipping through the laminated menu options while Akira and Maerya continued to bicker softly over flavors behind her. She was still trying to decide between strawberry melon or mango peach when Shinso stepped closer beside her, glancing over the drink list too.
“Hey,” he said, voice calm but not unkind. “You look more relaxed than the last two weeks.”
Rosie blinked, glancing up from the menu. “Oh… yeah. I guess I am,” she said with a small, polite smile.
“How are things with you and Todoroki?” Shinso asked, his voice casual—but there was a glint of curiosity behind those violet eyes.
Rosie blinked again, surprised by the question. Her heart gave a little skip. “Shoto?” she echoed.
Shinso nodded. “Yeah. I saw the photo Kaminari posted. Looked like you were enjoying yourself. I’m glad.”
Her cheeks flushed softly. “It was… nice,” she admitted, the warmth of the memory creeping in before she could stop it. “He’s been really kind to me.”
Shinso smiled a little. “That makes sense. You two were dating before… y’know, the accident.”
Rosie’s breath caught.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the laminated menu, her head turning toward him. “We were what?”
Shinso looked surprised by her surprise. “You didn’t know?” he asked, blinking. “Sorry—I thought someone had told you already.”
Rosie shook her head slowly, her heart racing now.
Dating? She and Shoto were… dating?
She tried to picture it—his steady hands, the quiet concern in his eyes, the way he always stood a little too close, always held doors open for her, always looked at her like she mattered.
Suddenly, it all made sense.
Why he was so careful with her. Why his eyes always seemed to be watching her from across a room. Why his jacket had come off his shoulders so quickly in the theatre, without her even needing to ask. Why he lingered when she laughed. Shoto… cared about her. He still cared about her.
And she had no memory of it.
“I… didn’t know,” she murmured, her voice soft, almost lost in the hum of the smoothie blenders and the chatter of the shop.
Shinso gave her a small, apologetic look. “Sorry if I overstepped. I just thought… well, maybe you’d want to know.”
Rosie swallowed hard and gave a small nod. Her heart was beating a little too fast, and now she didn’t even know if she wanted a smoothie anymore. Her eyes flicked to the entrance, half-expecting Shoto to walk through the door at any moment, as if summoned by her thoughts.
Her chest ached strangely, filled with an odd mix of warmth and guilt.
Why hadn’t anyone told her?
Kanako returned from the restroom moments later, chattering something about the soap being “strangely fancy,” and Akira waved Rosie over with a smoothie in each hand.
Rosie gave Shinso one last glance and offered him a small, grateful smile before walking over to her friends, her thoughts spinning wildly.
Shoto and I were together as boyfriend and girlfriend….
Rosie had a boyfriend before she lost her memory?
Rosie sat cross-legged on the floor cushion, nestled between Tokoyami and Tsui at the low wooden table, the warm aroma of miso broth and garlic filling the cozy ramen shop. Koda sat across from them, quietly slurping his noodles with a content expression as steam rose from his bowl.
Her own ramen sat cooling slightly in front of her, the soft-boiled egg perfectly split, broth shimmering with chili oil. She smiled to herself, grateful for the calm energy this group always carried—it was grounding in a way that the louder, rowdier friend groups weren’t.
"So," Tsui said, tilting her head as she picked up a piece of seaweed with her chopsticks, "have you made any summer plans yet, Rosie?"
Rosie shook her head gently, blowing on her noodles before answering. “Not really. I’ve just been… trying to get used to everything again.”
"You should come with us sometime," Tokoyami offered, his voice deep and composed, as usual. “We’ve been doing some off-the-record missions. A joint one recently, in fact.”
Rosie blinked and leaned in slightly, intrigued. “Really? The three of you?”
Koda gave a shy nod and pointed to Tokoyami, then to Tsui, as if to emphasize how coordinated the mission had been.
Tsui grinned. “It was out in the forest near Mt. Nabari. There was a report of illegal toxin dumps, and a few mutated animals had started attacking local hikers.”
Rosie’s brows lifted. “Seriously? What kind of animals?”
"One was a bear,” Tokoyami said gravely. “Its mind was distorted by the toxins. It had begun creating burrows under the trails, collapsing them, luring hikers into ambushes. It took coordination to trap it without causing harm.”
Koda nodded and smiled sheepishly. “I talked to the birds to help find the burrows before anyone else could fall in.”
Rosie smiled warmly at him, deeply impressed. “That’s amazing.”
“And Tokoyami’s Dark Shadow helped us corral the creature,” Tsui added, casually spooning some broth. “It only took a little tranquilizer to bring it down once it was isolated.”
“Wow,” Rosie said, leaning her elbow gently on the table, her chin in her hand as she stared at the three of them with admiration. “You guys make such a great team.”
“We do,” Tokoyami said simply, though his faint smile betrayed a rare pride.
Rosie couldn’t help but feel a tinge of something bittersweet. Hearing her classmates talk about missions and teamwork stirred something in her chest—like a familiar dream she couldn’t quite remember.
She swirled her chopsticks through her broth and smiled softly. “You guys are so cool.”
Tsui smiled at her. Koda gave her a small thumbs-up, and Tokoyami nodded once, firm and approving.
The evening sun had dipped just below the horizon, painting the sky in warm streaks of coral and lavender as the group left the ramen shop, laughter light on their tongues and their steps unhurried. A small, pastel-themed ice cream parlor sat at the corner, glowing gently beneath its string lights. Its striped awning flapped softly in the breeze, and the sugary scent of waffle cones drifted through the air like a quiet promise.
Rosie grinned as she stepped inside, the cool air brushing against her cheeks. The walls were covered in polaroids and handwritten doodles, and the overhead lights were shaped like dripping scoops of melting ice cream.
Koda moved quietly to the corner to study the massive wall menu, while Tsui debated between matcha and mango with a furrow in her brow. Tokoyami stood stoically behind them, uninterested in sweets, but perfectly content to wait.
Rosie walked right up to the glass counter, eyes shining as she spotted the hand-mixed ice cream options. “Hi! Can I get the strawberry ice cream, in a cup please, with chocolate cake pieces and fresh strawberry bits on top?” she asked, her voice cheery and sweet.
“Sure thing,” came the smooth reply from behind the counter.
She blinked, her gaze snapping up to meet the eyes of the guy now scooping ice cream for her.
He was tall, lean, with messy white hair that curled just slightly at the ends. His blue eyes were striking—icy and calm—but friendly as they flicked up to meet hers. He wore the parlor’s pink, white, and black uniform: black apron tied neatly at the waist, pink name tag pinned to his chest, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms.
Rosie’s heart skipped just a little. He was… cute.
She gave him a polite smile as he scooped the strawberry ice cream into a cup with practiced ease, then added a generous helping of chocolate cake bits before layering on the fresh strawberry slices like an artist arranging flowers.
He passed her the cup with a wink. “There you go—strawberry and chocolate. Solid combo.”
“Thanks,” she said softly, her cheeks warming as she took it from him, the coolness of the cup a strange contrast to the flush in her fingers.
He smiled, then turned to help the next customer as if it hadn’t meant anything. But for a moment, Rosie just stood there watching him, wondering if it was the sweetness of the ice cream or something else entirely making her pulse flutter like that.
Tsui leaned in beside her, glancing at her cup. “Good choice. Looks tasty.”
Rosie blinked back into focus and smiled. “Yeah…um, want to try some?”
“Ribbit, I’d love to.”
Notes:
Not Shinso accidentally making a mess of things and confusing our already confused Rosie😩
Lemme know your thoughts as usual💖 have a great day and I’ll see you lovelies tomorrow for the next one😏
Chapter 110: I’m Hiroshi
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
She loved every season—each held a certain magic, a rhythm that echoed deep in her soul—but spring had always been her favorite. It was the season of rebirth, of blossoms stretching lazily toward the sun after long winter sleeps. The air was sweet with roses and dew, the skies turned crystal blue, and the world felt lighter, as though everything had been gently rinsed clean and was starting over again. The songs of birds returned with the hum of honeybees and the soft flutter of butterfly wings chasing petals in the breeze. There was something hopeful in spring’s softness, something that felt like quiet forgiveness.
But summer… summer had been her mother’s favorite.
Her mother had loved the heat—the golden stretch of daylight, the shimmer of sun on the lake, the feel of sand between toes. Rosie remembered how her mother used to hum while watering the garden barefoot, how she smelled like sunscreen and honeysuckle, and how her laugh had felt brighter during July. Sometimes, Rosie caught herself loving summer too, just because of that.
Today was one of those days.
The sun was high above, casting a warm glow over the backyard of Tetsutetsu’s house, where the pool sparkled invitingly under the cloudless sky. Music thumped through the speakers, mixing with the splash of water, bursts of laughter, and the sizzle of a grill somewhere in the distance.
Rosie stood near the edge of the pool in a pair of light, high-waisted jean shorts and a cropped ivory tank top that knotted just below her bust, exposing her soft stomach and the glint of her little crystal belly button piercing. Her hair was twisted up in a claw clip, a few strands framing her sun-kissed cheeks. A red solo cup rested in her hand, condensation dripping lazily down her fingers as she sipped the fruity, fizzy drink inside.
Akira stood next to her in a vibrant cherry red bikini, her arm loosely looped around Monoma’s neck as he whispered something in her ear, making her laugh and swat at his chest. Kanako, ever effortlessly chic, wore a deep green halter two-piece and leaned against Shinso’s shoulder, his purple swim trunks damp from when he’d been shoved into the pool earlier.
Rosie smiled, the moment wrapping around her like a warm breeze.
The scene was lively, full of joy and color—towels sprawled across the grass, pool toys bobbing in the water, friends shouting challenges from the diving board. Tetsutetsu had really gone all out for the party: giant umbrellas dotted the yard for shade, the cooler was stocked with drinks, and someone was already preparing water balloons for an inevitable sneak attack.
As Rosie stood among them, half-drunk on sunshine and the hint of alcohol in her cup, she felt that old flicker again—that little tug of happiness nestled in her chest.
“Oh come on, guys!” Mina’s voice rang out like a firecracker as she balanced dramatically on the edge of the diving board in a glittery lavender bikini. Her hands cupped around her mouth as she grinned. “Stop being lame and get in the pool! This is a pool party!”
The splash she made moments later earned a cheer from the crowd gathered around the deck.
Rosie smiled faintly into her Solo cup, the fruity, carbonated drink tickling her tongue as she leaned back against the white rail bordering the patio. Sunlight filtered through the swaying branches of the tree above her, casting golden dappled shadows along her bare legs. Laughter and music filled the air—loud, chaotic, alive.
She had slowly been meeting all of her father’s students again. Not all at once, of course—Aizawa had warned her how overwhelming that could be. Instead, she’d been reintroduced to them in small groups, private meetups, quiet lunches, casual hangouts. Some faces came easier than others, small flickers of familiarity buried deep in her subconscious. But she was only about halfway through the class. She still hadn’t spoken to everyone—not Mina, not Momo, nor Uraraka, Ojiro, Toru, Shoji, or… Katsuki.
The thought of him sent a ripple of tension through her shoulders.
Still, she was grateful. They were all kind. Patient. Willing to give her time and space to rebuild what had once come so naturally. It meant more than she could express.
“I’m telling you, it’s hot girl summer and we are not spending it being boring,” Akira announced nearby with a mischievous grin, already dragging Monoma toward the water. “Chicken game—let’s go, babe!”
Kanako laughed, and with Shinso rolling his eyes but following anyway, the couples all jumped in together, splashing water into the air and earning playful shouts from those already swimming.
Rosie stayed put, perched comfortably on the railing like a content observer. Her drink was nearly gone, the condensation now dripping lazily down her wrist, but she didn’t care. She liked this. Watching. Breathing. Letting the sun warm her skin and listening to the pulse of the music.
“Heyyy!” A cheerful voice called out. Rosie looked up to see Uraraka skipping toward her in a pink halter bikini, her chestnut hair pulled up into two bouncing buns.
“I’ve been looking for you,” she said, her voice bright. “Mind if we join you?”
“Of course not,” Rosie smiled, standing a little to offer more room.
Moments later, Mina emerged from the pool, dripping and radiant as she wrung out her hair with a towel and plopped down beside them. “You’re lucky,” she said, fanning herself with her hand. “The water’s amazing, but I’m freezing now.”
“I brought your drink,” Maerya added, appearing with a fresh Solo cup for Mina and her own in the other hand. She looked relaxed, her hair braided loosely down her back, a gauzy wrap tied at her hips. She nodded to Rosie with a soft smile before taking a sip and joining their little corner.
Soon, the four of them were chatting with ease—talking about the latest beach trends, whether or not to join the chicken game (Uraraka was down, Mina already calling dibs on her shoulders), and sharing funny stories about the last few missions some of them had been on. Mina retold a hilarious story about Kirishima slipping on a wet rooftop and accidentally tackling Ojiro during a stealth mission, and even Rosie found herself genuinely laughing, her head tilted back, cheeks warm not just from the sun but from joy.
“So…” Mina drawled teasingly, her sharp eyes glancing sidelong at Rosie. “You and I haven’t had a proper talk yet. But I have to ask…”
Rosie blinked. “Yeah?”
“…is it true you beat Kaminari at horror movie trivia and pool last week?”
Rosie giggled. “I mean… maybe.”
“You’re instantly iconic,” Mina declared, raising her cup.
The late afternoon sun had dipped just low enough to cast everything in a golden haze. Music thumped low and steady through Tetsutetsu’s backyard speakers, the bass vibrating faintly through the soles of Rosie’s feet as she stood laughing with the girls beneath a string of hanging lights.
Uraraka was mid-story, describing how a seagull stole her entire sandwich during a beach trip last week, and Mina nearly snorted her drink out of her nose laughing. Maerya, perched beside Rosie on a lounge chair, chuckled behind her cup, while Rosie leaned into the moment—shoulders loose, stomach aching from laughter, heart warm.
“Okay, okay,” Rosie said, grinning, “I need a refill before I die of dehydration.”
“Grab me something sweet if they’ve got it!” Mina called after her, waving.
Rosie nodded and made her way through the crowd, threading between towels, floats, and swaying partygoers until she reached the long plastic folding table where drinks were set up. She reached out for the pitcher of fruit punch when someone beside her spoke.
“You’re the strawberry ice cream girl.”
She blinked in surprise and turned to see the guy from the ice cream parlor standing there, holding a red cup and looking at her with an easy smile. His white tousled hair was damp, like he’d just gotten out of the pool, and his blue eyes looked almost silver under the light.
“I—oh,” she laughed, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “Yeah. Strawberry with cake bits.”
He reached forward and poured punch into her cup for her without being asked. “Didn’t expect to run into you here.”
“Me neither,” she said with a small smile. “Do you… know someone here?”
He nodded. “I’m friend’s with TetsuTetsu. Invited me.”
Rosie took a sip of her drink, curious but relaxed. There was something casual, almost soft, about the way he spoke. No pressure. No agenda.
“I’m Hiroshi,” he said, pulling his phone out and handing it to her, open to a new contact screen.
She glanced up at him, surprised, but took it after a moment and typed her name in. He gave her a small, almost boyish smile as he took it back. “Nice to officially meet you, Rosie.”
“Likewise,” she said, her blush barely hidden behind the rim of her cup.
He gave her a nod and a small wave as he backed away into the crowd. “Maybe I’ll see you again.”
Rosie stood there for a moment, dazed in the afterglow of the brief encounter, until a shadow fell across her.
“That was fast,” Maerya’s voice came beside her, low and unimpressed.
Rosie turned to her friend, blinking. “What?”
“The guy.” Maerya crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. “Strange you’re running into him again. Just… be careful, Rosie.”
Rosie frowned slightly. “He didn’t seem strange. He was polite.”
“That’s how some of them work,” Maerya said quietly, eyes not on her but on the crowd where Kai had disappeared. “Not everyone is as they seem.”
Rosie’s grip on her cup tightened slightly as she turned to follow Maerya’s gaze.
“I’m just saying,” Maerya added after a beat, softer now. “You’ve been through a lot. Just… be careful who you let into your space.”
Rosie nodded slowly, unsettled—but not sure why.
The water was pleasantly cool against Rosie’s sun-warmed skin as she floated lazily on her back, her cup balanced carefully in hand, half-filled with a sweet fizzy punch. Laughter and music echoed around the backyard, and the summer sun dipped lazily toward the horizon. A few partygoers splashed on the far side of the pool, but the corner Rosie found herself in was more low-key, a chill pocket of shade and conversation.
Shoji leaned against the edge of the pool with his arms draped behind him, relaxed for once, while Tokoyami stood in the shallow end with his usual quiet grace, his drink resting atop a nearby pool float. Toru sat beside Rosie on a pink flamingo float, her legs dangling in the water, a pair of glittery sunglasses resting on the bridge of her invisible nose.
“This is the first time I’ve actually been excited for the new semester,” Toru said, sipping from her cup. “I figured it’d help with stealth work.”
“You and stealth are the same person,” Rosie teased, kicking gently to turn toward her. “But yeah, that one’s supposed to be good. I heard it’s to help the new generation get the same training and experience as you guys did in the war.
“I heard that too,” Shoji added. “I’m taking tactical crisis response. Gran Torino’s old agency passed some new material to UA, so Aizawa's running simulations.”
Rosie raised her brows. “That sounds intense.”
“It will be,” Shoji replied, but he was smiling. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Tokoyami nodded in agreement. “Endeavor’s agency is opening its doors for temporary internships. I was considering applying again.”
“You interned with him once, right?” Rosie asked, treading water in place now, interested.
“Briefly,” Tokoyami replied, his voice as calm and even as ever. “Hawks is too busy these days to take on interns directly, but he recommended his agency for further training. He says the current team under him has developed some new techniques in reconnaissance and rapid response. I’m hoping to study under them, if the spot opens.”
Rosie nodded, resting her cheek against the side of her cup, the rim cool against her skin. “That sounds like a good fit for you,” she said softly, watching the gentle ripples of the water between them. “You always had such precise movement… I bet you’d thrive in that kind of work.”
Tokoyami bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment. “Thank you.”
The conversation drifted from internships to upcoming classes, with Toru excitedly recounting how she had convinced three different teachers to approve her dual electives. “I mean, if I’m going to be a pro, I gotta be versatile, right?” she chirped, tossing an invisible lock of hair over her shoulder dramatically. “Espionage, first aid, crowd control—what don’t I do?”
“Well, visability,” Shoji offered casually.
“Oh shut up!” Toru laughed, kicking a splash at him.
Rosie grinned, hugging her cup to her chest, her legs swaying back and forth in the water as the voices of her friends wrapped around her like a warm breeze. She didn’t jump in often—she was still piecing things together—but being around them like this, talking and teasing, it filled the empty spaces with something whole.
They moved on to debating the best late-night food spots in the city. Shoji swore by a 24-hour takoyaki place near the agency district, while Toru claimed nothing could beat spicy ramen from the microwave. Tokoyami, true to form, said he preferred philosophical solitude under the stars with a thermos of miso broth.
Rosie laughed gently at that, her eyes soft as she watched the group banter. It was strange—and a little surreal—getting to re-know them all. There were glimpses of familiarity, flickers of something deep in her chest, like a memory that almost surfaced… but didn’t. And yet, they didn’t pressure her. They made space for her to rediscover everything at her own pace.
As the sun continued to dip, casting the pool in a golden warmth, Rosie leaned back against the edge with a peaceful sigh. She didn’t have all the answers, but moments like this—real, simple, joyful—made her feel like she belonged again. Maybe, just maybe, she was slowly finding her way back home.
Notes:
hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!💖
go check out my other stories in this series as there are now a total of four!
as always lemme know your thoughts and see you tomorrow!:)
Chapter 111: Shooting alien blobs with exploding pinballs? That’s genius!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Cracking open a beer, Katsuki stood in the middle of his half-empty apartment, the hiss of carbonation barely cutting through the thrum of bass pounding from the Bluetooth speaker sitting on the kitchen counter. Some alt-rock playlist Kaminari had insisted on was blaring loudly, the electric guitar riffs echoing off the barren walls that used to hold memories—memories he was doing his damndest to leave behind.
He took a long, burning chug, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth as he stared at the half-sealed boxes crowding the living room. The place felt foreign now. Cold. Like someone else’s life had happened here.
“Yo, Bakugou, this box labeled ‘Miscellaneous’ weighs like twenty pounds, man,” Sero called, emerging from Katsuki’s bedroom, his arms around a box full of tangled wires, dumbbells, and what looked like an old game console.
“It’s all shit I didn’t wanna organize, just toss it in the truck,” Katsuki grunted.
Kirishima popped out from behind Sero with a lopsided grin, his cheeks flushed from exertion. “You could’ve asked for help sooner, bro. Place is a wreck.”
“I didn’t ask. You all just showed up,” Katsuki muttered, though he didn’t sound mad. Just tired.
Shoto, ever calm and focused, was taping up another box near the couch. “We figured you wouldn’t do it unless someone made you,” he said, his tone dry, but not unkind.
“You’re not wrong,” Katsuki admitted with a shrug, taking another sip of beer.
Kaminari danced past him, an open box tucked under one arm, the other waving in the air to the beat of the music. “God, I forgot how heavy your crap is. Why do you own so many weights? Do you sleep with ‘em or something?”
Katsuki rolled his eyes, setting the bottle down as he walked over to help Denki lift one of the heavier crates. “I like being strong, dumbass. Not everyone lives on pure vibes like you.”
Laughter echoed from the hallway as they all started making another round to the truck. The music played on, shifting into something nostalgic—a summer anthem from their first year at U.A.—and though none of them said anything, there was a shared pause, a collective glance exchanged that spoke louder than words.
It was weird. Saying goodbye to a place that held so much. This apartment had been his refuge. His chaos. The space where she had once filled the room with laughter and warmth, and then, silence. Now it was just empty walls, stale air, and the scent of faded memories.
As they moved the last load into the truck, Katsuki stood on the curb, arms crossed, watching as the guys shoved in the final box and closed the latch with a loud clank . His chest was tight, but he didn’t show it.
“You good?” Kirishima asked, nudging him lightly with his elbow.
Katsuki glanced back up at the building one last time. “Yeah. Just ready to be done with this place.”
He wasn’t sure if he was lying. But it was the only way to do it.
The pizza parlor was a cozy dive tucked between a laundromat and a closed-up bookstore, the kind of place that served greasy slices on metal trays and pitchers of cheap beer that always tasted better after a long day of moving. The five of them squeezed into a red vinyl booth, still a little sweaty from hauling boxes, their clothes rumpled, hair messy, but spirits high.
Katsuki sat at the end, a cold beer in one hand, a slice of pepperoni in the other, half-listening as Sero and Kaminari debated over which arcade game in the corner was the best. The overhead lights cast a warm yellow glow on the table, bouncing off the greasy sheen of melted cheese and the condensation dripping down their pint glasses.
“I’m telling you, Galactic Pinball Rampage is the superior game,” Denki insisted, taking a massive bite and talking through a mouthful of crust. “Shooting alien blobs with exploding pinballs? That’s genius!”
Sero snorted. “You're just bad at skee-ball.”
“I’m not bad, I’m strategically unpredictable .”
Kirishima laughed as he poured himself another beer from the pitcher. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, bro.”
Katsuki smirked faintly, shoulders finally starting to ease as he took a long sip from his glass. The burn in his chest from earlier was dulling with each sip and slice—this, this was manageable. Loud, stupid, normal.
Then his phone buzzed.
He absently pulled it from his pocket, expecting a work notification. Instead, it was from Linked.
Rosie shared a post.
His thumb hovered for a beat before he tapped into it. And there it was. A selfie of Rosie, glowing and smiling, her hair done in soft waves and a gloss on her lips. She sat with Akira and Kanako on either side, wine glasses raised in cheers, and Eri seated in Kanako’s lap, flashing a peace sign with a bright gummy smile. The caption read: “Girls Night ✨💅🩷 #sisterhood #sweethearts #eriapproved”
He blinked—and choked on his beer.
“Yo, you good?” Kirishima leaned forward, brows raised.
Before Katsuki could answer, Denki’s voice rang out, “Duuude, Rosie just posted! Look at this!”
Denki shoved his phone across the table, and the guys all leaned in.
“Aww, she looks cute,” Sero said, genuinely warm. “Didn’t know they were hanging out with Eri too.”
“She’s really doing her best to reconnect,” Kirishima said, nodding, as Denki swiped to show more photos with Mina and Uraraka in the mix. “It’s good to see.”
Katsuki stared down at his plate, jaw tightening. He didn’t need to look again. The image was already seared into his brain. Her smile. Her ease. Her absence.
He took another drink instead.
No one seemed to notice as the conversation veered toward next weekend’s game night and whether Shoto would actually show up instead of “mysteriously vanishing again.”
Later, as they left the parlor, full and buzzing from beer and greasy pizza, the warm night air greeted them. The streets were quiet and bathed in amber light from the streetlamps.
Sero and Denki stretched.
“Alright, we’re tapping out,” Sero said with a groan. “Patrol’s early tomorrow. We’ll catch you guys later.”
Kaminari threw an arm around Sero. “Text me if you get lonely, Bakugou!” he called out dramatically, and laughed as Sero steered him away.
Shoto glanced at Kirishima, then at Katsuki. “I’ll drive you both back.”
“Appreciate it, man,” Kirishima said with a wide grin.
Katsuki just nodded, silent as he climbed into the passenger seat of Shoto’s car. The engine hummed to life, and as they pulled away from the curb, Katsuki kept his gaze out the window, jaw still clenched, Rosie’s smiling face burned into the back of his mind.
Her absence hurt more when she seemed happy without him.
Shoto parked the car outside Katsuki’s new apartment complex, the streetlights casting long shadows through the windshield. The drive had been mostly quiet, aside from Kirishima occasionally humming to a song playing softly on the radio. Katsuki hadn’t said a word since the pizza place.
As they stepped out and started toward the building, Katsuki suddenly stopped, fists clenched at his sides. The cool night breeze didn’t help cool the fire simmering in his chest.
“Why the hell are you always around her?” he snapped, turning toward Shoto, his voice sharp.
It was something he had wanted to know, something he had noticed immediately and it pissed him off. He had seen the posts, heard the stories, and he had pretended like it didn’t bother him.
Shoto blinked, pausing mid-step. “…What?”
“Rosie,” Katsuki growled, stepping closer. “You’re always there. Every time I turn around, it’s you with her. Taking her places. Sitting with her. Hovering. ”
Shoto’s brows drew together, calm but clearly taken aback. “Because she’s my best friend , Katsuki.”
“That never stopped you before,” Katsuki bit out.
“Katsuki—” Kirishima warned from behind, voice low.
Shoto’s frown deepened. “You think I’m trying to replace you or something?”
“You sure as hell look like you’re trying to,” Katsuki spat. “She barely remembers anything, and you’re right there filling in all the blanks like you’re her fucking boyfriend or something.”
Shoto’s eyes narrowed, a rare flash of irritation breaking through his normally cool expression. “Don’t put that on me just because you’re too much of a coward to talk to her.”
“I’m protecting her!”
“No. You’re protecting yourself ,” Shoto snapped, stepping forward now too, their faces inches apart. “You’re scared. You’ve always been scared when it comes to her. And now that she doesn’t remember the way she loved you, you’re pushing her away because it hurts.”
“You think this doesn’t fucking kill me?” Katsuki barked, voice rising. “You think watching her forget me is something I can just get over ?! I fucking breathe her—every goddamn day I have to stay away from her, pretend like I’m not fucking dying on the inside.”
Shoto was quiet, staring at him.
Katsuki shoved his hands through his hair, pacing. “And then you—you’re always there. Calm. Convenient. Kind. Fucking perfect. ”
“I’m not trying to take her from you, Katsuki,” Shoto said quietly, the edge in his voice gone now. “She’s not something to take. She’s a person.”
“Then stay the hell away from her!”
“That’s not your call to make!”
“ Guys! ” Kirishima finally stepped in, voice raised, pushing between them. He held both hands up, his expression tight with frustration and concern. “That’s enough. ”
Katsuki’s breathing was erratic, his chest heaving, eyes bloodshot with emotion. Shoto was silent, eyes on the ground now, jaw tight.
“Look,” Kirishima said firmly, turning to him. “Go to bed, man. You’re running on empty, and you’re not thinking straight. You’ll regret this if you keep going.”
Katsuki didn’t move at first.
“Please,” Kirishima added more gently. “Just sleep. Tomorrow, things’ll feel clearer.”
Katsuki looked away, jaw clenched tight. He didn’t say anything else as he stormed into the house, the door slamming behind him.
Shoto stood outside for a moment longer, then glanced at Kirishima. “He’s hurting.”
“Yeah,” Kiri exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s also in love. That’s the worst kind of pain when it’s all bottled up.”
Neither of them said anything else as the night finally settled around them.
Notes:
Happy Father’s Day!
Poor Katsuki😩💀 lemme know your thoughts and I’ll see you tomorrow💕
Don’t forget to check my other works if you’re wanting some Katsuki and Rosie feel good content🙂↕️
Chapter 112: Ten months gone…
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The apartment was quiet as Rosie moved toward her bedroom, Maya following at her heels. She paused at the threshold, her breath catching in her throat.
The wall adjacent to her bed was covered in a long white sheet. Behind it was nothing but photos: snapshots of smiling faces, bright eyes, moments that should have felt nostalgic. There were group photos with Mina and Kirishima, goofy selfies with Jirou, a picture of her and Akira at some festival—paper lanterns glowing behind them. Even one with Shoto, his mismatched eyes soft as he stood beside her, a gentle smile on his lips.
She had worked up the courage to draw the sheet back ever so slightly, despite her Father and Akira’s warnings not to. Perhaps they were right, because the more she stared at it all, the more she felt absolutely nothing.
Her chest tightened painfully, and tears began to well in her eyes. She didn’t recognize any of these people. It was like staring into someone else’s life—a stranger’s scrapbook. A sob tore from her throat, and she covered her mouth, feeling like she might shatter into pieces.
How could she believe that Shoto had been her boyfriend? That she had gone on trips, made friends other than Akira and Kanako? None of it felt real, nor did it feel right.
Akira was there in an instant, her arms wrapping around Rosie from behind. “Hey,” she murmured, pressing her cheek to Rosie’s shoulder. “It’s okay. You’ll remember, Rosie. It just takes time. These things—” she gestured to the wall of memories “—they’ll come back. One day at a time.”
But it felt like empty words.
Rosie shook her head, her tears falling harder. “But I don’t remember. Everyone is walking on eggshells around me. I can feel it—like they’re all waiting for me to be the person I was, but I’m not. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
Akira’s voice was soft but firm. “Rosie, you’re still you. You’re still the same girl who loves animals, who bakes the best cookies, who is so damn kind. You’ll get there—I promise. Just let yourself breathe, okay?”
It didn’t do much to ease the ache in her chest. Rosie sniffed, wiping her tears on the sleeve of her oversized sweater. “I—I’m going to shower.”
Akira squeezed her hand gently. “Alright. I’ll be here if you need anything.”
Rosie moved into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She peeled off her sweater and leggings, her movements slow and mechanical. Stepping in front of the mirror, she stared at her reflection. Her eyes were tired, ringed with the shadows of sleepless nights that she kept hidden with concealer. Her hair was tangled, strands falling across her face.
But it wasn’t the exhaustion that made her breath hitch—it was the marks on her skin. Small thin butterflies sat on her hips. A long, pale scar traced her abdomen, a reminder of something she couldn’t recall. And on her side, inked into her ribs, was a dragon intertwined with a single, delicate letter K.
Her brows furrowed, her tears returning. Who had she been? Who had given her the dragon tattoo? Why couldn’t she remember any of it? Who was K?
She pressed her palm against the glass, the cold biting into her skin. “I just want to remember,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I just want to feel something.”
But the silence offered no answers—only her own reflection staring back at her, mocking her.
After the shower, Rosie felt slightly better. Then she got dressed and ate rice and egg and it was easily forgotten, as she had taken to sitting on the couch with Akira. They were watching a movie, until her phone dinged with a text.
Mina: We’re going out to Silven’s tonight, wanna join us?
Rosie: Meet you there
The second floor of Silven’s buzzed with music and the low hum of voices, the clack of billiard balls echoing beneath the ambient glow of string lights. Rosie leaned over the pool table, lining up a shot with a giggle, barely managing to keep her balance.
“You’re terrible at this,” Akira teased, sipping from her cocktail glass.
“I’m not terrible,” Rosie defended with a playful pout, missing the shot completely. “Okay… maybe a little.”
Uraraka and Mina burst out laughing as they gathered around the table, drinks in hand, faces flushed with warmth and alcohol.
“I’ll get us another round,” Rosie offered, brushing off the lightheadedness and weaving through the tables, heading toward the bar.
She moved down the staircase leading to the first floor, humming to herself, her fingers brushing the cool rail as she descended. Just as she stepped onto the lower landing, someone stepped into her path.
“Rosie?”
She blinked, startled. “Riku? You come to Silven’s?”
He raised a brow, “a friend of mine owns the place.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that.”
Riku smiled, “I’m relieved to know that you are okay. I haven’t seen you since that night and I didn’t know how to find you and check on you other than the news reports.”
“That night…?”
“Yeah, in the club, a little over a month ago, I was with you the night before the accident.”
Rosie’s breath caught.
His tone was gentle, but it landed heavy. Her brows pulled together as her heart picked up pace. “That was the night I was… kidnapped?”
He nodded slowly, watching her carefully.
Her mouth went dry. “I’m sorry. I… I don’t remember any of that. I lost the last ten months. All of it. It’s just… blank.”
Riku’s face shifted, a flicker of guilt passing through his expression. “Shit. I didn’t know. I just thought you were ignoring me or everyone else from that night.”
Rosie shook her head quickly. “No, no—it’s not that. I just…” She looked down at her hands, fingers curling tightly around the strap of her purse. “I wish I remembered. I really do.”
He hesitated, then said, “Just… stay close to your boyfriend. Even if you two are broken up.”
Her head shot up, brows furrowed. “What? Shoto and I… broke up?”
Riku blinked. “Yeah. You didn’t know?”
She felt the blood drain from her face.
“I was with you when it happened. I mean, not during,” he clarified quickly, “but right after. You were crying—like really crying—and I offered to walk you home, because you were shaking. Told me he broke things off right there with no warning.”
Rosie took a step back, the wall of Silven’s suddenly too close, too loud. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest as the pieces didn’t fit.
“No… I—he never told me that.”
Riku looked uncomfortable now. “Sorry. I figured… well, maybe things changed. Or maybe he told you later.”
But he hadn’t. Shoto never mentioned a breakup. He had been protective. Kind. Distant at times—but always there. Always present. But now… the way he looked at her. The way he sometimes turned away. How quiet he got when their eyes lingered too long. How he'd check on her but never reach for her hand.
And suddenly it made sense.
Rosie murmured, “Thanks… for telling me.”
Riku nodded and gave her a small smile before walking off toward the bar.
She stayed there for a moment longer, frozen in place. The music faded to a dull throb in her ears, her heart roaring louder than the beat.
Ten months gone… and in the middle of it, a heartbreak she never even remembered having. And now she had to carry it like it was happening all over again.
But…she didn’t feel sadness, or grief.
That only made her feel worse, made her feel sick and confused.
Farmers markets were always nice.
There was something comforting in the slow hum of the crowd, the chatter of friendly vendors, the scent of fresh produce mingling with baked goods and handmade soaps. Rosie walked at a gentle pace, a woven tote bag swinging from her shoulder as the sunlight filtered through the canvas awnings stretched overhead.
The market was alive with color—crimson apples stacked in neat pyramids, jars of golden honey catching the light, bundles of wildflowers tied with twine. Children tugged at their parents' hands, eager to try the homemade lemonade at the far end of the stalls. Somewhere, a musician strummed an acoustic guitar, their voice soft and lilting as they sang something nostalgic.
Rosie lingered at a stall selling strawberries. They were small and sweet, their ruby skins warm from the sun. She picked up a basket and turned it over in her hands thoughtfully before adding it to her tote. The woman running the stall smiled at her and told her they were picked just that morning.
She wandered on, pausing at a bakery stall where rows of pastries were lined up like artwork. She bought a small croissant, still warm, and took a bite as she walked, her fingers flaking with buttery crumbs. It reminded her of lazy Sunday mornings—though she couldn't remember exactly when or where.
The ache of not knowing never fully went away, but days like this made it quieter.
At another booth, a man was selling tiny succulents in hand-painted pots. Rosie stopped to admire them, crouching to examine one shaped like a blooming rose. The vendor offered her a kind smile and told her it was a rare variety. She bought it on impulse, gently tucking it into her bag.
As she walked past a table of lavender bundles, the scent wafted around her like a dream. Her eyes closed for a second longer than necessary, and she took a deep breath.
She didn’t know why the market made her feel so at peace—but it did. Maybe it was the simplicity of it. No pressure. No expectations. Just a girl, some sunlight, and a few quiet hours in a world that wasn’t asking her to remember anything she couldn’t.
She smiled to herself, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and kept walking—strawberries, succulents, and a soft warmth settling in her chest.
“My, I haven’t seen you in some time.”
Rosie paused mid-step, blinking as she turned toward the voice. An older woman sat tucked behind a booth draped in rich fabric and sparkling stones, her warm orange dress bright against her pale skin. Her hair was white, gathered neatly into a loose twist, and her eyes—sharp, crystalline blue—seemed almost too vivid, like light was captured inside them.
“Hello,” Rosie said politely, smiling as she stepped closer to the booth.
The woman smiled back, folding her hands gently. “Where is that boyfriend of yours? He’s never far from you.”
Rosie’s smile faltered. “Shoto and I… we’re not together,” she said softly, lifting her hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Her laugh was awkward, unsure. “Not anymore.”
But the old woman frowned and waved her hand dismissively. “Not the Todoroki boy.”
Rosie tilted her head slightly, confusion pricking at her. “Sorry?”
“You and that boyfriend of yours came practically every Saturday,” the woman continued, squinting a little as she looked around the market. “Always hand-in-hand. You picked out strawberries, he always bought you those little flower cookies from the bakery stand. He couldn’t stop smiling.”
Rosie stared at her for a beat too long. There was a strange echo in her chest, like the woman was describing someone else’s life. A life she couldn’t remember—yet the details hit somewhere deep, far below where her current memory could reach. Something about flower cookies sounded oddly… right.
But she shook it off, offering the old woman another polite smile. Maybe she was confusing her with someone else. Or maybe the woman was just... nostalgic. Time played tricks on everyone eventually.
Instead, Rosie focused on the rows of delicate jewelry spread across the table. Necklaces made from raw crystals and shimmering stones, rings cradled by twisted gold, bracelets lined with tiny charms that glinted in the sun.
“You have some beautiful pieces here,” she said, leaning over the display. “Each one is so unique.”
“An old friend of mine owns mines,” the woman said proudly. “He sends the best of what he finds to my brother and me. We turn them into something worth wearing.”
Rosie nodded, impressed. “Smart family.”
The woman’s eyes softened, growing distant in a way that felt suddenly deeper than a simple memory. “We got it from our mother.”
Rosie looked up from a delicate silver chain holding a tiny moonstone pendant. “She must have been amazing.”
The woman held her gaze a moment longer, too long, before the corner of her mouth lifted. “She was… everything.”
There was a heaviness to her tone that Rosie couldn’t quite place. A layer beneath the words that made her chest tighten slightly. But she didn’t pry. It wasn’t her place, and besides, the old woman probably just had a flair for the poetic. Some people told stories with layers. Others just liked being mysterious.
Rosie turned her attention back to the jewelry and smiled faintly. “Well, she clearly passed something special on to you.”
The woman simply nodded, though her gaze lingered on Rosie with an intensity that made her feel oddly exposed—like the older woman could see far deeper than just her face. Like she was reading the outline of her soul.
Rosie turned her attention back to the display of jewelry, brushing her fingertips over a necklace with a teardrop-shaped labradorite pendant. She tried to shake off the feeling. Still, the weight in her chest didn’t ease. People remembered things differently—especially when it came to love. But then why did this woman feel so… familiar? Why did Rosie feel an ache in her heart just looking at her?
She hesitated for a beat longer, then gently asked, “Would you like to get coffee after you close up?”
The old woman stilled. Then a soft, watery smile spread across her face. “Yes,” she said, voice thick with emotion. “I would love that.”
They packed up the booth together. Rosie helped fold the tablecloths, wrap the jewelry in soft cloth, and carry the heavier crates to a small cart parked behind the market square. The sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden light over the rows of tents and cobblestone paths as the last of the vendors trickled out.
After loading everything into the back of the woman’s little van, they made their way on foot to Ishlamare, a cozy café tucked away between two bookshops. It was quiet inside, filled with the scent of vanilla, cinnamon, and freshly brewed espresso. They settled into a small table by the window with their drinks—Rosie with her iced brown sugar shaken blonde espresso, the woman with a small cup of thick dark roast.
“I never got your name,” Rosie said after a sip.
The woman smiled warmly. “Elira.”
“Elira,” Rosie echoed softly. It felt familiar in her mouth, like she’d said it before in another life. “Do you have family nearby?”
Elira nodded, her expression fond. “Just my older siblings. My twin brother and our elder sister.”
Rosie tilted her head. “You’re a twin?”
“Mhm. He’s a few minutes older, and never lets me forget it,” she chuckled, her eyes twinkling. “And our sister practically helped raised us after our mother passed. Father had been buried in his grief and our Uncle. She’s always been the strongest of us.”
“Do you see them often?” Rosie asked, stirring her drink absentmindedly.
“Oh yes,” Elira said with a soft sigh. “We’re close. We’ve gone through too much together not to be. They drive me mad sometimes, but I wouldn’t trade them for the world.”
Rosie smiled, but something in her chest gave a tug. She couldn’t explain it, but listening to Elira talk made something uncoil inside her, like a string of thread had been gently pulled from a tangled knot. She felt calm. Grounded. And yet—unsettled. Elira’s face, her voice, the warmth of her laugh… there was something about her. Something that tugged at the edges of her memory, like a name she should know but couldn’t quite place.
“You feel familiar,” Rosie said quietly before she could stop herself.
Elira paused, her cup halfway to her lips. She didn’t speak for a moment, then slowly lowered the mug back down. “I get that a lot,” she said gently, her smile a little sad.
Rosie looked down into her coffee, the ice clinking softly as she swirled it. She didn’t know what to say to that.
But Elira just reached across the table and gently patted her hand. “Don’t worry, dear heart. You’ll remember when you’re ready.”
Something about the way she said it made Rosie’s throat tighten. She wanted to ask why she was so sure. But for now, she didn’t ask. She just held on to the warmth of Elira’s touch and let the quiet comfort of her presence settle into the hollow spaces inside her.
And still, deep down, a part of her whispered that this wasn’t the first time they’d shared a coffee together. Or had this talk and she wasn’t talk about before her memory was taken.
Notes:
lemme know your thoughts💖 have a lovely day and see you tomorrow!
Chapter 113: I won’t fail her again.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
One thing about living in the city—especially in Tokyo—was that it never truly slept. Even in the dead hours before dawn, the city buzzed with life. Traffic lights blinked through empty intersections, trains rumbled in the distance, and convenience stores stayed lit like small lighthouses in the dark.
Shoto Todoroki moved through it all quietly, blending into the shadows in his hero gear. He was coming off a long night of patrol, his body weary and aching beneath the armor and layers, but his hand clutched a warm paper cup of Ishlamare’s strongest brew. The coffee was sharp, nutty, and bittersweet—just enough to jolt him into coherence. Tucked under his arm was a small white box tied with a pale blue ribbon, the edges of the paper stained faintly with grease. Inside were three chocolate croissants, still warm.
Momo’s favorite.
She always claimed she didn’t like sweets, but Shoto had long since figured out that she couldn’t resist a good pastry, especially after a long day.
The sky was still dark, a soft purple smudging the edges of the horizon, when he finally arrived at the Yaoyorozu estate. The security recognized him immediately, and he slipped past the gates without a word, following the polished stone walkway up to the massive entryway. He stepped inside quietly, the grand foyer dimly lit with golden sconces.
The scent of vanilla and clean cotton hit him almost immediately—and then, Momo’s voice.
“You’re up early,” she said from the direction of the kitchen.
He followed her voice, his boots muffled against the marble floors.
She was standing at the island, dressed in silk shorts and a matching tank top, a soft white towel still wrapped around her damp hair. Her skin glowed from a fresh shower, and her eyes were rimmed with sleep, but her smile warmed the kitchen like sunlight.
Shoto raised the coffee cup and the white pastry box in greeting. “I brought croissants. I figured you might still be up.”
“I just got back ten minutes ago,” she said with a small stretch and a yawn. “You too?”
He nodded and handed her the box. Her eyes lit up.
“You didn’t have to—” But she opened it anyway, the scent of dark chocolate and buttery pastry filling the space. “You really didn’t have to,” she repeated, softer this time, already pulling him into a hug.
He stiffened slightly in surprise before allowing himself to relax, one arm gently circling around her. “It’s nothing. I just thought of you when I passed by Ishlamare.”
She pulled back with a grateful smile—until her gaze narrowed slightly. “Were you with Rosie?” she asked.
Shoto blinked at her, caught off guard by the question. “What?”
Momo’s eyes searched his face. “You smell like her perfume. I mean… faintly.”
There was a pause.
“I dropped her off,” he admitted. “Hawks asked me to check in on her after her shift. Her boss said she had been too exhausted, so I gave her a ride home.”
Momo didn’t say anything at first. She just stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she nodded. “Right,” she said, her voice carefully neutral. “Well, I’m glad she got home safe.”
But even as she turned back to her croissant, Shoto felt the shift in the room—like something unspoken had suddenly entered between them. He took a sip of his coffee, his mind heavier than before, and silently wondered why something so small had left a knot forming in his chest.
“You are upset,” Shoto said plainly, his voice soft but direct.
Momo hesitated, her eyes flicking away as she took another bite of her croissant. “No,” she said too quickly. “Why would I be?”
He stared at her for a moment, unmoving. “We’ve known each other since we were fifteen. I know when something’s wrong. You’re upset—and I don’t know why.”
She let out a slow, shaky breath, setting down the pastry on the napkin before her. “Why are you spending so much time with Rosie?” she asked, barely above a whisper. “Do you like her? I mean… do you like like her? More than platonically?”
Shoto blinked, startled. “Why would you ask me that?”
“Ever since she was found,” Momo said, her tone laced with something bitter and uncertain, “you’ve been constantly with her. You text her all the time. You’re always dropping everything to go to her. It’s like—like she’s your priority now. Not me.”
He frowned, caught off guard. “Momo…”
“No, answer the question,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “Is she more important than me?”
The room stilled for a long moment. And then something inside him cracked, his voice tight, strained with emotion. “You want to know why I’m always there for Rosie?” he said, his voice trembling as it rose in volume. “Because she sacrificed herself for me.”
Momo froze.
“She saved my life,” he continued, his chest heaving slightly. “When I woke up, Hawks told me she was found dead. That they’d recovered her body. That she had died … because of me. Because she insisted on saving my life. I can still remember that feeling—my whole world just—” He choked, his voice faltering, “collapsed.”
Momo didn’t speak. She stood frozen as he clenched his fists at his sides, struggling to find air.
“Only to be told hours later that it wasn’t her,” Shoto went on, his tone haunted. “That it was a fake. Some twisted mind game. And I—I wanted to believe it was good news, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t better. It was worse. Because it meant she was still out there somewhere. Still suffering. Still in his hands.”
He stepped back, his voice low, shaking as he said, “You don’t understand how much that messed with my head. Then everything came back. What happened. What she did for me. Rosie—she didn’t hesitate. Not for one second. I was supposed to die that night, Momo. It should’ve been me. If she hadn’t stepped in, she wouldn’t have—”
He stopped, chest tightening too hard to finish the sentence.
“Shoto…” Momo whispered, reaching for him.
But he took a step back from her again, his jaw clenched. “I should’ve protected her. I was right there. But because of me, she was taken. She was kidnapped. She was tortured for days. And the whole time, I was having to sit around and do nothing while she was being destroyed .”
His voice cracked again, and when he spoke, it was almost a whisper. “I failed her,” he said. “The one time she truly needed me—I wasn’t there. How the hell can I call myself a hero when I’m the one who was saved, and she’s the one who paid the price?”
“She doesn’t even remember the last ten months of her life,” he said. “Ten whole months, gone. Like they were ripped away. And all because I wasn’t strong enough to stop it. Every time I sleep, I see her. Getting dragged from the car. Her screams. Her nails—bleeding as she tried to crawl away from him. And me... too weak to get to her .”
Momo stared at him, wide-eyed, visibly shaken. Her croissant lay forgotten on the counter, and her lips parted like she wanted to speak, but no words came. “I didn’t know it hurt you this much,” she finally whispered. “Shoto… I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were having nightmares.”
He let out a bitter laugh and shook his head. “You should have. You knew what she’d been through. How she was stalked, tormented, chased by the same man who killed her mother. He even stabbed her, killing her. You knew, and yet—”
She flinched when his gaze lifted to her. Not angry. Just tired . “I’m your girlfriend,” she said again, but this time it sounded unsure. Fragile. “How can you not understand why I’m asking?”
“Don’t say that,” he snapped, his voice rising again. “Don’t just say you’re my girlfriend when you’re the one who rejected me.”
Momo sucked in a breath. “I didn’t—”
“You said you weren’t ready,” Shoto cut her off. “That you weren’t sure. That you didn’t know if you could handle a relationship with me. You asked for space. You wanted distance. You were scared. And I respected that. I gave you that space. But then you turn around and still call me when you want something. You want me to be yours when it’s convenient. ”
His hands trembled as he raked them through his hair, the croissant long forgotten. “I’ve been trying, Momo. Trying to be better. To be stable. To deserve you. But you can’t twist this and make it about Rosie like she’s the problem. She’s not. This started long before she came back.”
Momo’s voice broke. “I didn’t know I’d lose you if I hesitated…”
He shook his head. “You didn’t lose me, Momo. You let me go. ”
There was a long silence.
Then, quietly, she asked, “Do you still dream about Dabi?”
His breath caught in his throat. He closed his eyes for a moment. “Yeah,” he said. “More often than I admit.”
Momo looked at him gently, regretfully. “Because you couldn’t save him either?”
He nodded slowly, then looked down at his hands. “I should’ve. I tried. I still don’t know if I wanted to save him because he was my brother, or because I wanted to believe he could be something better. But I failed him too. And Rosie—Rosie saved me. I couldn’t save either of them. But I owe it to her. I owe it to Katsuki to look after her when he can’t.”
Momo blinked at that. “You owe it to… Katsuki?”
“She’s his person,” Shoto said, voice low. “Whether they’re together or not. She chose him. But he’s not here right now. And someone has to be. I know how much she meant to him. And I can’t—I won’t fail her again.”
His jaw clenched as he finally looked at Momo, his eyes swimming with guilt and conviction.
“I can’t stay away from her. Not when I see how much she’s struggling to put herself back together. Not when I know I could’ve stopped it. I owe her my life. And if she needs someone to lean on, I’ll always be that person. Not because I’m in love with her. But because I failed her. And I won’t do it again.”
Momo lowered her gaze, her arms folding in tight against her chest. “I didn’t know it was that deep.”
“It is,” Shoto said, stepping toward the door. “And I’m not going to pretend it’s not”
Momo knew he was right.
As the door closed behind him, the silence in the kitchen swallowed her whole. The faint scent of coffee still lingered in the air, the chocolate croissant growing cold and forgotten on the counter. She stood there for a long time, unmoving, until finally, her hands came up to clutch the edge of the marble, grounding herself.
He was right.
She had always struggled—with self-doubt, with her confidence, with the quiet, gnawing voice in the back of her mind that told her she wasn’t enough. She thought she’d grown past it after graduating, after stepping into her role as a pro hero. She had started to rebuild, to believe in herself again. But then the war happened.
Everything changed.
She saw heroes—strong, brave, good people—die. Saw civilians crushed by rubble, families torn apart, children screaming for parents who would never come. The ideals she’d built her life on were shaken at their foundation, and in the aftermath, when everything was still dust and blood and recovery… she turned to Shoto.
That night—when they slept together for the first time—was a moment she’d clung to. It had made her feel weightless, wanted, seen. For a few precious weeks, she’d felt like she had something good again. Something real. But then, like a tide she couldn’t stop, the self-doubt came creeping back in.
Why would he choose you? How can you hold on to someone like him? He’ll grow tired of you eventually. You’ll ruin this too.
So she pulled away, told him she needed space. That she wasn’t ready. That she didn’t want to change things and make them complicated. But in doing so, she’d created exactly that—complication. Pain. She thought she was protecting both of them. But all she did was push him away.
And now… now it was too late.
She could still see the pain in his eyes, the guilt that weighed on him like chains. Rosie had saved his life. And in turn, she had been taken. Tortured. Left broken and with no memory of the past ten months. Momo couldn’t even begin to imagine that kind of horror, let alone live through it. And Rosie had.
How could she have been so selfish?
Her stomach twisted as guilt clawed its way up her throat. She had known what Rosie had been through, even before the kidnapping. The stalking. The murder of her mother. The fear she had lived with. The trauma she carried. Momo had been there for parts of it—and yet she had the audacity to make this about herself? To turn it into some kind of competition for Shoto’s attention?
She felt disgusted with herself.
Rosie was hurting, and Shoto… he was barely holding himself together. He had suffered too. He had lost a piece of himself that night. And she—she had been jealous. She had let her insecurity cloud everything. Let it poison something that could’ve been supportive, kind, understanding.
Shoto didn’t owe her anything. If anything, she owed him an apology. And Rosie too.
The way he spoke—his voice cracking with emotion, the weight of the trauma he carried—she hadn’t realized how deep the scars went. Not just physical ones, but the ones carved into his mind, into his soul. And worst of all, she had seen it happening and still convinced herself that she was the one being wronged.
Momo lowered herself slowly into a chair, the silence of the kitchen pressing down on her like a physical weight.
Everything had become so complicated. And now she wasn’t sure if she could ever untangle it. But one thing was clear. Shoto wasn’t hers. She had done that, not him.
She looked down at her trembling hands. She had to do better. Be better. Because people like Shoto… and Rosie… they didn’t need her doubts. Nor did she. She has had a crush on hiv since they were fifteen, and when she did finally get the chance to be with him, she had casted him aside and allowed her own insecurities and self doubt creep in and crush her quietly these last couple of months.
She stared at the chocolate croissants he had brought her, because she loved them. Not because of anything else but because he thought of her.
God, what was wrong with her? She needed to get her act together.
Notes:
So we finally got the long awaited Momo and Shoto scenes🤭 like I said the bricks were pre kissed, painted pink and wrapped in bows💖
lemme know your thoughts and I’ll see you in the next one tomorrow, have a nice day!
Chapter 114: Then why did Shoto break up with me?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki laid in bed, one arm behind his head, the other resting gently atop the small, warm weight curled on his chest. Lady was asleep, her tiny body rising and falling with every soft breath, her purring vibrating into his sternum like a grounding hum. He absently scratched behind her ears, listening to the comforting sound as his gaze drifted up to the ceiling.
It was plain. Stark. Empty.
Too damn empty.
He had grown used to falling asleep beneath those stupid fucking glow-in-the-dark stars—pinks, blues, yellows, and purples—scattered across the ceiling in that chaotic but oddly beautiful pattern. And, in the center of it all, that oversized white-and-grey plastic moon, a little crooked because she hadn’t been able to reach without standing on his bed.
He’d walked in that day to find her standing barefoot on his comforter, giggling as she tried to stick it on just right.
"For us,” she beamed, her eyes bright. “So even when we’re apart, we can still look at the stars together.”
He remembered how she’d jumped down and into his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like she belonged there.
He never planned on putting them up again—not after everything that happened. He told himself he wouldn't. That it was better to pack them away with the rest of her things. But when he moved into the new place, when the silence became too loud and the dark too heavy, his hand found the worn box tucked into the back of a drawer.
And damn it all, he put them up. Exactly how she had arranged them. Same pattern. Same lopsided moon.
Now, in the cool stillness of the night, the faint glow of those plastic stars hovered above him like ghosts. His jaw clenched as he exhaled slowly through his nose. His chest ached.
Her perfume still lingered sometimes, like a cruel memory stitched into the fibers of his clothes and sheets. Sweet and soft, a little floral, a little fruity—just like her. He could almost feel her beside him again, brushing her fingers through his hair, her legs tangled with his under the blanket, whispering something stupid that made him snort even as he tried to pretend he wasn’t laughing.
He closed his eyes and turned his head, jaw tightening again.
He hated this. Hated how even her absence filled the room more than anyone else’s presence ever could. Hated how he couldn't throw away those fucking stars. Because no matter how hard he tried to forget, no matter how deep he buried the ache—he still looked up at the ceiling every night and hoped she'd come back. Even if she never remembered.
His phone started ringing, the shrill buzz cutting through the quiet of the room. Katsuki groaned and rubbed a hand down his face, careful not to disturb Lady, still purring lightly on his chest. He shifted just enough to dig the phone out of his sweatpants pocket, barely glancing at the screen before swiping to answer.
“What?” he snapped, voice hoarse and flat with exhaustion.
“New assignment, Dynamight,” Hawks' voice came through with its usual flippant ease, but there was a weighted edge to it this time. “Suit up—you’re being sent to Yokohama for the weekend. Some activity near the port. Not just clean-up either. Eyes and ears. Be sharp.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Katsuki muttered. His jaw clenched, already pushing himself upright as Lady let out a tiny, indignant meow and hopped off his chest. He winced, not at the mission—but at the fact that he didn’t care. Not really. He’d been hoping for a distraction. Hoping for anything to pull him away from the weight pressing down on him.
There was a pause on the other end, and then a sigh—low, tired. “Bakugou,” Hawks said more gently this time, like he was trying to reach out from behind the title.
Katsuki’s patience snapped like a frayed wire. “Can it, bird,” he growled. “Don’t wanna hear anything from you right now.” And with that, he hung up without waiting for a reply.
The silence returned, thicker than before. Katsuki sat still for a second, his phone still clutched in his hand. The screen dimmed, then lit up again when his thumb brushed over the edge. The home screen flickered into view.
And there it was.
That photo.
It wasn’t posed—wasn’t anything formal. Just him and Rosie curled up in bed, limbs tangled. Her head tucked into the crook of his neck, her smile soft and barely there, like she’d just woken up. His arm around her, eyes half-lidded, caught in a rare moment of peace.
He had forgotten Akira had taken it, Akira had barged in yelling something about pancakes. Rosie had laughed so hard that morning. And Katsuki… he looked calm. Genuinely at ease.
Now it just hurt to look at.
His thumb hovered over the screen, heart thudding unevenly in his chest. Delete it, he told himself. Just erase the damn thing and be done with it.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he locked the phone and let it drop onto the couch beside him. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and dragging a hand through his hair. “Yokohama,” he muttered to himself, trying to focus on the mission. On anything but that photo. But all he could see was her smile, the way she used to fit perfectly against him.
Dressed in full hero gear, soot still clinging to the heavy folds of his gauntlets, Katsuki stepped into Ishlamare for a quick coffee to-go. It was late, but the shop’s soft yellow lights and quiet jazz made it feel like it was stuck in another time. The bell above the door gave a soft chime as he walked in, but he barely got two steps inside before he stopped short, jaw tightening instantly.
There she was.
Rosie stood near the counter, her laugh floating through the air like something out of a memory. She looked warm and easy, dressed in a soft pink cardigan over a sundress, cheeks flushed from laughter. Her curls were pulled back loosely, a few strands framing her face. She was with Akira and Kanako—both of them smiling, drinks half in hand as they joked about something that Katsuki couldn’t hear, and didn’t want to.
Rosie turned just as if she’d felt him there. Her eyes lit up the moment they met his, that sweet softness taking over her expression. She raised her hand—ready to wave, ready to speak, ready to close the distance—but Akira touched her wrist gently and shook her head.
Rosie blinked in confusion, lowering her hand slowly. Kanako looked over her shoulder at Katsuki, brows furrowing, clearly not understanding what had just happened.
He clenched his jaw so hard it ached.
Katsuki moved quickly, ignoring the looks, the way Rosie hesitated. He walked past them to the counter, keeping his eyes on the damn menu even though he already knew what he wanted. “Large black, extra shot,” he muttered.
“Coming right up, Dynamight,” the barista chirped, but he barely heard it.
He could still feel her watching him. Could feel the familiar, strange warmth of her gaze digging into the back of his neck like sunlight he couldn’t step into. The moment his coffee was slid across the counter, he grabbed it and was out the door before the barista even finished saying thank you.
The night air was cold. Sharp. He liked it that way. His boots hit the pavement hard, and he was halfway down the sidewalk before he heard her voice.
“Wait—Katsuki!”
He froze. He wanted to keep walking—hell, he should’ve kept walking—but instead he turned, slowly, and saw her jogging up to him. She looked breathless, curls bouncing as she caught up to him, her lips curved in that same stupid smile that had once made him feel like he could burn the world down and still be worthy of love.
“Did you just get off an assignment?” she asked, voice soft with concern, as if it didn’t twist the knife deeper in his chest.
He shook his head, eyes fixed somewhere over her shoulder. “No. I’m heading out. Yokohama.”
“Oh.” She tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “Be safe then, okay?” Her smile never faltered, not even as she stood there, completely unaware of the storm brewing behind his red eyes. “Maybe, I’ll see you when you get back.”
He opened his mouth. Words sat heavy on the tip of his tongue. No, you won’t. I’m not coming back. Not to this—not to you. But they wouldn’t come out. He just swallowed the ache and looked away. “…Thanks,” he muttered.
He didn’t wait for her reply. He turned, the coffee in his hand long forgotten, and walked into the night.
“Did you just get off an assignment?” she asked, voice soft with concern, as if it didn’t twist the knife deeper in his chest.
He didn’t meet her eyes—couldn’t. Not when she was standing there looking like that. Hopeful. Gentle. Familiar in a way that broke him.
“No,” he said tightly, eyes fixed somewhere over her shoulder, past the café lights, past the ache in his ribs. “I’m heading out. Yokohama.”
“Oh.” She nodded, tucking a curl behind her ear with a small smile. “Be safe then, okay?” There was a softness to her voice that haunted him, that made him want to scream. “Maybe… I’ll see you when you get back.”
He should’ve said no. Should’ve told her the truth—that he didn’t plan to come back to any of this. Not to her. Not to the quiet ache of being forgotten. Not to the mess it left inside him. But his lips betrayed him again. “…Thanks,” he muttered.
She shifted, fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. “I know we’re not friends…” she trailed off, eyes lifting to his. “But I do hope that one day we’ll get close.”
The words punched through his gut like a blade. She didn’t know. She didn’t remember. You don’t want to be my friend, he wanted to say. You were mine. You were mine.
But he didn’t say anything. He turned. One foot in front of the other. Just keep walking. But he stopped. Because she said, barely above a whisper, “Wait… can I ask you something?”
Katsuki turned slowly, the coffee cooling in his hand. “…What is it?”
She bit her lip, shifting her weight. “You’re Shoto’s best friend, right?”
His eyes narrowed just slightly. “Yeah.”
She looked up at him, hesitant. “Then why did Shoto break up with me?”
He stared. “What?” The word was sharp, harsher than he meant it—but not by much.
“Shinso and this guy—Riku—they told me that… that Shoto was my boyfriend.” Her brows furrowed, voice uncertain, like she wasn’t sure if she believed it. “That he broke up with me… right before the accident.”
Something cracked in him.
The hand holding the coffee cup flexed, the lid creaking from the pressure. His vision flared red, not from rage but from the storm of emotions roaring beneath his ribs—confusion, betrayal, protectiveness, heartbreak. He took one step toward her. Then another and another.
Her wide blue eyes looked up at him, unblinking as he closed the distance. Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed her face—not rough, not gentle either. Just enough to make her look at him, to make her see him. She was so much smaller than him. A head and a half shorter. Fragile in his grip, her pulse fluttering beneath his thumb.
And she looked up at him with nothing but confusion. Not the fire he remembered. Not the smartass remarks. Not the soft whispers of love in the dark. Only confusion and it fucking destroyed him.
“Shoto isn’t your boyfriend,” he ground out, his voice low and harsh, teeth clenched. “He never was. That’s a lie. A lie you told.”
Her lips parted, breath caught.
He leaned in, eyes burning. “You told everyone he was your boyfriend to keep the truth a secret. To protect the one person you actually dated.” His grip trembled slightly.
Notes:
whoops sorry for the late update, I spend my day introducing my sister to the beautiful world of supernatural now that she is old enough to watch it😩
lemme know your thoughts and I’ll see you tomorrow💖
Chapter 115: That boy was clearly checking you out
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
His palm was warm, calloused and firm, as it cradled her face, his fingers splayed along her jaw, thumb resting just beneath her cheekbone. He dropped his coffee, his other hand coming to cradle her face, his hands were rough against her face.
Rosie froze.
The world seemed to blur around her, the sounds of the sidewalk, the distant hum of cars and the soft thrum of music spilling from the café behind them all fading into silence. The only thing she could focus on was him. Katsuki Bakugou.
His crimson eyes burned into hers, intense, unreadable, like a storm barely held back. She couldn’t look away—not even if she wanted to. His touch wasn’t rough, but it demanded her attention, her breath, her heartbeat. He leaned closer, and her knees felt weak. He smelled like caramel and smoke.
It was stupid. Why did she notice that? Why did her brain file it away like it meant something? Like it was familiar. Like her heart knew it even if her memories didn’t.
Her throat tightened as she swallowed.
She could feel his warmth, like standing too close to a fire on a cold night—comforting and dangerous all at once. Her heart was pounding. Not from fear. Not even from confusion. But from the way his eyes searched hers, unblinking, burning through every part of her.
He was so close. Close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his eyes, the tension in his jaw, the breath he held between his teeth. She could see the battle raging inside of him, feel it crackling like electricity in the air between them.
She didn’t understand. She didn’t understand why he looked at her like that—like she had broken something inside of him, like she meant something. Something more than whatever he pretended they weren’t.
But despite the confusion, despite her own nerves tightening in her chest, her heart fluttered in excitement. Her breath hitched, and her skin felt warm despite the cool night breeze brushing her arms. She didn’t move—didn’t dare. His hands on her face anchored her in place, in him.
Her wide, dazed eyes never once left his. “Why…” Her voice was a whisper, trembling with something she didn’t yet understand. “Why would I do that?”
His thumb brushed her cheek just slightly, just enough to make her gasp silently. His voice was low and rough, like gravel smoothed by velvet, wrapping around her like smoke, like something meant to be felt in the lungs and the bones. “Shoto isn’t your boyfriend.”
His words echoed in her ears, sharp and absolute.
She blinked, trying to catch her breath, confusion fluttering in her stomach. “Then who was?”
There was a flicker in his eyes. Something sharp, something possessive . For a moment, he looked like he might say it—whatever it was. But then he exhaled slowly, controlled, and the moment passed. “Go back inside,” he said instead, the command threaded through his voice like iron laced in honey. “Be a good girl, go back inside and have fun with your friends and forget about any notion of Shoto being your boyfriend.”
Rosie’s frown deepened. Her brows furrowed as she tilted her chin, trying to stand her ground even as her heart raced like a drum in her chest. “How do I know you’re not just saying that to mess with me?” she challenged. “You haven’t exactly been nice to me, nor are we friends.”
That earned her a low, husky laugh from deep in his throat. He clicked his tongue, his eyes dancing with something between amusement and exasperation. “I don’t mess around with things I care about,” he said simply, voice laced with something unspoken that made her chest tighten. “That ain’t my style.”
The words made her breath catch. Things I care about? Her mind scrambled for footing, her cheeks warming again.
She opened her mouth, unsure what to say—but he was already pulling back, his hand leaving her face, the loss of his warmth like stepping into cold water. The distance between them was sudden and sharp. She blinked, still caught in a haze.
He turned away without another word, tugging his black hero hoodie over his head before sliding into his car. The engine roared to life, headlights cutting across the pavement. She stood frozen on the sidewalk, her pulse still pounding in her ears as he pulled off into the night without looking back.
Rosie wrapped her arms around herself, still tingling where he had touched her. The night air had grown colder. She turned slowly, walking back inside the café, her mind spinning and her chest full of questions she didn’t have answers to. All she knew was one thing:
Katsuki Bakugou was more than he let on. And he was everything her heart didn’t understand—but couldn’t seem to ignore. But it didn’t matter because she didn’t know him or trust him, nor did she like how he made her feel.
“So how are things with Monoma?” Rosie asked, sipping at her strawberry banana smoothie while twirling a chicken tender in her sauce absentmindedly. The afternoon sun was warm on her shoulders, the open-air café bustling softly around them, a subtle jazz playlist humming beneath the chatter.
Across the table, Akira grinned, stirring her matcha latte with a paper straw. “Great,” she said with a dreamy sigh. “I really like him. And the sex is—ugh—amazing.”
Rosie rolled her eyes dramatically. “I bet it is, considering you’re practically living at his place every night now.”
Akira waggled her brows, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “Would you rather we be at your place? You know, where you can hear me go, ‘ Ohhh Monoma, yes! Yes, right there! ’” She threw her head back in mock ecstasy, complete with breathy moans.
Rosie nearly choked on her drink, laughing so hard she had to dab at her eyes with a napkin. “God, Akira! No! I’m very, very grateful you’re having sex at his place and not mine.”
“That’s what I thought.” Akira smirked, smug and unbothered.
The laughter melted into a quiet, comfortable rhythm, the kind only found between old friends. It had been a month and a half since Rosie woke up in the hospital—and only two months since Akira had flown in from the States to be by her side. The idea of Akira leaving again stirred something panicky in Rosie’s chest.
After a pause, she asked, “So… are you guys, like, official now?”
Akira leaned back in her chair and made a little humming sound. “We’re exclusive… when I’m in Japan.”
Rosie raised a brow. “Planning to stay, then?”
Akira’s eyes sparkled. “Yes. I already put in for a transfer to U.A. University. I didn’t want to say anything until I got the results.”
Rosie frowned, leaning forward. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I haven’t been accepted yet.” Akira shrugged, eyes dipping to her smoothie. “If I don’t get in, I’ll go back to the States and try again in the spring.”
Rosie reached out and touched her hand gently. “You’ll get in. You’re brilliant.”
A soft smile curved on Akira’s lips. “Thanks.”
Rosie perked up, grinning. “So if you do stay… are you moving in with Monoma?”
Akira gave a sly little smirk. “Why not move in with you ?”
Rosie giggled. “We’d need a bigger place.”
“With soundproof walls.” Akira added.
Rosie nearly spit out her drink. “Absolutely. Non-negotiable.”
Akira groaned dramatically. “And I’ll need a job too. Ugh. Adulting.”
“You could work at Ishlamare with Kanako—it’s super close to campus. Or…” Rosie smiled wide, “You could work with me at Ignis Inferno. We’d be unstoppable.”
They laughed again, paying the bill and stepping out into the warm breeze of late afternoon. The sun painted long shadows across the sidewalk as they made their way down the street. Just as they reached the corner, Rosie’s phone buzzed. She glanced down, her screen lighting up with Eri . She answered quickly.
“Hi sweetheart,” she said gently.
“Rosie?” came Eri’s small, hopeful voice. “Can I come spend the night at your place?”
Rosie’s smile softened. “Of course you can. I’ll set everything up for you, okay?”
“Okay!” Eri sounded giddy. “I’ll be there around five!”
“See you soon,” Rosie said before hanging up and slipping the phone into her pocket.
Akira looked at her with a warm grin. “You’re seriously the best big sister ever.”
Rosie smiled, though it wavered slightly as her gaze turned toward the horizon. “She’s my heart.”
Akira was quiet for a moment before gently asking, “How’s your memory?”
Rosie’s fingers twitched at her sides. She looked down at her shoes as they walked, the sound of their steps blending with the breeze. “Still nothing,” she admitted quietly. “Not really. It’s like… I know things, but not in a way I can explain. I feel like I belong with everyone. Like I’m supposed to be here… I just don’t remember why.”
Akira’s arm slipped around her shoulders. “Maybe you don’t need to remember to belong. You’ve always belonged.”
Rosie let herself lean into the embrace, her throat tightening. “Thanks, ‘Kira.”
“Anytime,” Akira said, squeezing her gently.
Her living room looked like a tornado of cozy chaos had swept through. Blankets were piled high in forts over chairs and the back of the couch, some sliding halfway to the floor. The coffee table was buried under a mess of half-empty wine bottles (grape juice for Eri, obviously), empty bowls that had once held chocolate ice cream, and an impressive collection of open books with colorful bookmarks poking out.
All three girls were nestled in the mess, lounging in oversized pajamas. Rosie’s were pale pink with little strawberries on them, Akira wore a silk set with a crescent moon pattern, and Eri had claimed Rosie’s old Maine hoodie and polka-dotted shorts, her legs tucked beneath her as she read.
Now that Eri was a teenager, Rosie and Akira had officially invited her into their sacred “book-and-junk-food” day tradition—a full-day event dedicated to reading romance novels, inhaling sweets, and doing absolutely nothing responsible. Eri had been thrilled.
“I’m starving ,” Akira whined dramatically, flopping her book shut and throwing her arm over her eyes. “How are you two still alive? I’ve been wasting away for hours.”
“Me too,” Eri said, closing her own book with a small sigh. “I thought ice cream would hold me, but…” she placed a hand to her stomach with a pout. “It betrayed me.”
Rosie chuckled from her spot on the floor, where she’d sprawled across three pillows and a blanket. “We could go out… or get takeout. I'm down for either.”
“Let’s go out and get food,” Akira declared, springing to her feet with surprising energy and stretching her arms above her head. “I need fresh air and something spicy in my mouth.”
“That sounds really good,” Eri agreed, clapping her hands together eagerly.
Rosie nodded and stood as well, stretching out the stiffness in her back. “Alright, girls. Let’s get dressed.”
The trio emerged from the apartment not long after, bundled in cute casual fits. Rosie wore high-waisted skinny jeans and a cherry red cropped cardigan, her curls pinned back with butterfly clips. Akira rocked a black maxi skirt with a mesh top and combat boots, looking like she could step onto a runway at any moment. Eri had on pale denim overalls and a baby blue turtleneck, her hair tied up into two messy buns with glittery clips.
They headed to a hot pot restaurant nestled on a lively downtown street, full of neon lights and steaming storefronts. Once inside, they were led to a cozy booth in the back where the heat from the burners warmed their hands instantly. They giggled while selecting ingredients from the digital menu—meats, mushrooms, udon noodles, and a ridiculous number of dipping sauces.
It wasn’t until the broth began to boil and the first few pieces of meat were dropped in that Eri asked, seemingly out of nowhere, “Rosie… do you remember anything yet?”
Rosie blinked, her chopsticks hovering midair. The question didn’t catch her off guard, exactly—it had become common—but it still made her chest twist every time.
She shook her head slowly, offering a small smile. “No. Not really. It’s like…like my heart remembers, but my mind doesn’t.”
Akira, sensing the emotional shift, jumped in like a life raft. “Okay, wait—more importantly. Eri, how are things with Kota?”
Eri’s face went bright red.
“There’s nothing going on!” she squeaked, nearly dropping her chopsticks. “I mean—we’re just friends! That’s it! I don’t even talk to him that much!”
Rosie leaned forward with an all-knowing smirk. “But when you do, do you talk about, I don’t know… everything ever while smiling like a dork?”
“Rosie!” Eri covered her face with both hands, groaning. “Don’t team up with her!”
Akira rested her chin in her hand, grinning wide. “Come on, spill it. You’ve been blushing at his name since last year.”
Eri grumbled, but her smile peeked out through her fingers. Finally, she mumbled, “He’s… really sweet, okay? He helped me with my finals, and he makes me laugh. And he—he always listens to me. Even when I’m nervous.”
Rosie’s chest warmed. She reached across the table and gave Eri’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Sounds like someone really likes you.”
“I didn’t say that!” Eri huffed, cheeks glowing a bright pink as she tried to bury her face in her bowl.
Akira snorted into her drink. “You didn’t have to. It’s all over your face.”
Rosie giggled, poking at the fishcake in her soup with her chopsticks. “She’s practically glowing. Look at her. Kota’s got you blushing like you’re in a teen drama.”
Eri groaned dramatically, throwing her head back. “You two are relentless. I’m just gonna eat and pretend I don’t hear any of this.”
“Sure, sure,” Akira teased, raising her glass in a mock toast. “To young love!”
They all burst into laughter again, steam from the hot pot drifting lazily between them like a gentle veil. The restaurant buzzed around them with conversation and sizzling pots, but in their little booth, it felt like a world of their own—warm, safe, and filled with the simple kind of happiness Rosie had missed without even realizing it.
As she leaned back in her seat, sipping her iced tea and letting the warm broth settle in her stomach, her eyes wandered across the restaurant. She scanned lazily, not really looking for anything in particular—until she froze.
Across the dining area, at a corner table, sat a familiar face.
Hiroshi.
His white, tousled hair was easy to spot in the crowd, and so were his bright blue eyes. He was laughing at something one of his friends said, a hand resting casually on the back of his chair. He hadn’t seen her yet—until he suddenly did.
Their eyes met.
Rosie sat a little straighter, heartbeat stuttering. She instinctively brushed a hand through her hair, as if that would somehow make her more composed, less startled. He offered her a small wave, and before she could stop herself, she returned it, a shy smile tugging at her lips.
A moment later, he walked over to their table.
“Hey,” he said, smiling as he approached. “Didn’t expect to run into you here.”
Rosie smiled back, cheeks heating. “Me neither.”
“This place has the best broth,” Hiroshi continued casually, before glancing to the others. “Mind if I say hi properly?”
“Oh! Um, yeah.” Rosie cleared her throat, gesturing between them. “This is my best friend, Akira, and my little sister, Eri.”
Akira offered him a polite but curious look. “Nice to meet you.”
Eri blinked up at him, then gave a small nod. “Hi.”
“And you already know I’m Rosie,” she added, voice soft.
“Right,” he chuckled. “Well, I’ll let you guys get back to your dinner. Just wanted to say hey. I’ll… see you around?”
Rosie nodded, that same fluttering in her stomach threatening to undo her entirely. “Yeah. See you.”
He gave her one last smile before heading back to his table.
The moment he was gone, Akira turned to her with a raised brow. “Okay… who was that?”
Rosie tried to act casual as she poked at her noodles, but she could feel the heat in her cheeks. “I, um… I met him at the summer party. The one Tetsutetsu hosted a couple weeks ago.”
“The cute guy who made your ice cream?” Akira’s eyes widened.
Rosie nodded shyly.
Akira grinned like a shark. “Rosie. Why didn’t you say anything?”
Rosie shrugged, chewing her lip. “I don’t know… I didn’t think it mattered.”
“It matters now,” Akira said with a grin. “That boy was clearly checking you out.”
Rosie groaned and buried her face in her hands. Eri giggled beside her. “She’s blushing so hard. ”
Rosie could only mumble through her palms, “I hate you both.”
But the smile on her face said otherwise.
Notes:
Katsuki, you naughty boy...just couldn't help yourself now could you?
lemme know your thoughts and see you in the next one💕
Chapter 116: I lift hope, not weights.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The gym reeked of sweat, steel, and adrenaline—just how Katsuki liked it. His muscles burned, every rep biting into him like a challenge he refused to lose. Slamming the barbell back onto the rack, he sat up, wiping his forehead with the towel slung around his neck. Across from him, Kirishima was doing pull-ups with perfect form, the redhead’s arms flexing as he grinned down at Kaminari, who was sprawled on the mat below pretending to be dead.
“I’m not made for this!” Kaminari whined, dramatically wiping invisible sweat from his brow. “I lift hope, not weights.”
“Yeah, hope that someone else’ll carry your sorry ass,” Sero laughed, tossing a bottle of water at his head.
“Focus,” Tokoyami muttered as he boxed with a punching dummy nearby, his movements swift and sharp.
Shoto stood near the mirrors, expression unreadable as he adjusted the weights on his machine and continued lifting, sweat rolling down the side of his face in clean lines.
Katsuki took a deep breath, rolling his shoulder. His arms ached, but it was a good ache—one that came from control, from work, from pushing himself past his limits.
“I swear,” Kirishima grunted between pull-ups, “I feel like my agency’s trying to kill me with these double shifts. I haven’t even had time to break in the new VR set I got.”
Sero perked up from where he was doing sit-ups. “VR? Like a headset?”
Kirishima dropped from the bar, landing with a thud and a grin. “Yeah, just got it. Thing’s supposed to be nuts. Comes with a full motion rig, immersive haptics, the whole deal.”
“Wait,” Kaminari sat up, suddenly animated. “Dude, you’ve been holding out on us? We have to try that tonight.”
“Yeah,” Kirishima chuckled. “I was gonna set it up later. You guys in?”
“I’m in,” Sero said without hesitation.
Tokoyami nodded solemnly. “I suppose an excursion into digital reality could prove enlightening.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Fine. But if one of you fuckers screams like a toddler during a horror sim, I’m leaving.”
They all laughed, and even Shoto let out a faint, amused exhale.
“Let’s hit the showers,” Kirishima said, clapping his hands. “Meet you guys in the parking lot in ten.”
Katsuki didn’t answer, but he grabbed his bag and towel, heading for the locker room with the others. The steamy air of the showers hit like a wall, but it felt good. Familiar. They bantered as they rinsed off the sweat and heat, the water pounding like distant thunder.
By the time they were dressed and in the car, the sun had started its descent, dipping the sky in hues of gold and fading blue.
Kirishima drove, Kaminari DJed, Sero kept trying to steal the aux cord, and Tokoyami stared stoically out the window like he was pondering the meaning of the universe. Shoto, seated beside Katsuki in the back, said little as usual, but Katsuki could feel the tension in his shoulders.
As they drove toward Kirishima’s apartment, Katsuki leaned back in his seat, one arm draped lazily over the edge of the door, his mind drifting—not to VR, not to the game—but to her .
He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that damn coffee shop. The way she’d looked at him, the sound of her voice when she said, “Maybe I’ll see you when you get back.” The way he’d walked away instead of answering. The ache in his chest had followed him into the gym, and now it was following him to Kirishima’s place.
He scowled, looking out the window.
Yeah. VR couldn’t come fast enough. Maybe if he got shot in fake space, he’d stop remembering how she used to fall asleep on his couch. How she used to smile like he’d given her the stars.
Maybe.
Kirishima’s house was already loud by the time they walked through the door. Someone had queued up a playlist with thumping bass and electric guitar riffs, and the scent of pizza and takeout containers filled the air. The furniture had been shoved to the edges of the living room to make space for the VR headset setup in the center—motion rig, wires, and a headset that looked like it could hack into your memories if you weren’t careful.
“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding,” Kaminari breathed, eyes wide as he stepped closer to inspect the gear. “You could probably pilot a Gundam with this thing.”
“You’re welcome,” Kirishima grinned, tossing a controller into Kaminari’s chest before grabbing beers from the fridge and passing them out. “First run’s on you, Voltage.”
Kaminari cheered and strapped himself in, already fumbling through the menu options while the others cracked open drinks and claimed spots around the room. Katsuki flopped onto one of the floor cushions near the back, legs stretched out, nursing a cold beer and watching the chaos unfold. The sounds of laughter, cheers, and Kaminari screaming as a virtual zombie lunged at him filled the room.
“You idiot!” Sero cackled from the couch. “You can’t just run at them , what’s your game plan?!”
“Panic is my plan!” Kaminari wailed.
Even Shoto let out a soft chuckle from where he was seated on the arm of the couch, sipping from his bottle, his expression more relaxed than it had been in weeks. It was a true guys’ night. No assignments. No agency meetings. No civilians to rescue. Just cheap beer, digital horror, and friends.
Sero reached for another slice of pizza before raising a brow. “Hey, where’s Mina? She not joining us?”
Kirishima shrugged, half-focused on setting up the next game. “She went shopping with Momo and Uraraka. You know how that goes—one store turns into six, and then someone finds a dessert café and suddenly it’s an all day adventure.”
“They’re probably trying on stuff they’ll never buy,” Sero said, taking a bite. “Or convincing each other to buy things they shouldn’t.”
Kaminari finally emerged from the headset, hair a mess and face flushed with exertion. “That game is terrifying, ten outta ten,” he breathed, collapsing onto the floor. “Bakubro, you’re up.”
Katsuki raised a brow but stood, cracking his neck. “Fine. Watch and learn.”
He stepped into the rig, putting the headset on with a roll of his shoulders, already feeling the buzz of anticipation as the screen booted up. For a few blissful minutes, he let himself get lost in the game—dodging, punching, firing, and winning.
But no matter how loud the music got or how many times he gunned down a digital monster, his mind kept drifting.
To her. Always her.
It was well past 2 a.m. when the front door of Kirishima’s house burst open with the chaotic crash of keys and high-pitched giggling.
All the guys turned mid-gameplay, frozen in place as Mina, Momo, and Jirou stumbled in—each of them red-faced and clearly drunk, arms weighed down by glossy shopping bags. Their cheeks were flushed, hair tousled from the wind, and their laughter echoed through the apartment like the aftermath of a small whirlwind.
“—And I told you that guy was not flirting with you,” Jirou wheezed, barely able to hold onto her bags as she tripped over the rug and caught herself on the couch. “He was asking for directions.”
“Directions to my heart maybe,” Momo snorted, immediately giggling harder, swaying on her heels.
Mina, stumbling slightly, kicked off her heels and let her bags fall to the floor with a dramatic sigh of relief. “Whew! That was so productive.”
Kirishima blinked, pausing the VR game with a tilt of his head. “Hey—uh… you good?” He stood and quickly made his way over to her, catching her arm as she teetered slightly. “You smell like peach schnapps.”
“Yeah,” she hiccupped, grinning wide. “Because we were spying, duh.”
“…Spying?” Sero echoed from the couch, already snorting.
Kaminari leaned forward with wide, eager eyes. “Spying on who?! Please tell me it was a mission. A secret girl mission.”
Jirou groaned as she flopped into the armchair, legs dangling off the side. “It wasn’t a mission, it was a reconnaissance operation .” Then she grabbed a throw pillow and buried her face in it as laughter overtook her again.
Kirishima narrowed his eyes slightly, half amused, half suspicious. “Spying on who exactly?”
Mina wiggled her brows and placed a finger to her lips. “Can’t say. Girl code.”
“That’s not even—” Katsuki started, arms crossed from his seat on the floor, glaring.
“Anyway!” Mina spun dramatically and threw herself onto Kirishima’s chest. “We got cute outfits! And cake! And saw things we were never meant to see !”
“Like what?” Shoto asked from the kitchen, where he was now pouring a glass of water and passing it to Momo, who sat perched on a stool looking dazed and graceful despite her drunken state.
Momo accepted it with a nod and a lazy smile. “Nothing. Everything. Emotions. Regret. Possibly a squirrel fight.”
“Those squirrels were intense,” Jirou muttered into the pillow.
Mina pulled back just enough to look up at Kirishima with bleary eyes. “You smell nice. Like man soap.”
Kirishima chuckled, catching her waist as she leaned into him. “Okay, babe. Let’s get you some water before you start confessing state secrets.”
Rosie’s name never came up. Not directly. But Katsuki knew. He could see it in the way Mina glanced his way and quickly looked down. The way Jirou smirked behind her pillow. The way Momo’s voice had gone a bit too soft when she laughed.
They’d seen something. And even without asking, Katsuki already knew it had everything to do with her. Katsuki grabbed his jacket and keys without a word, the laughter behind him suddenly grating on his ears. The guys barely had time to call out his name before he was already out the door.
The night air hit him like a wall—cool and damp, the distant hum of city life buzzing low in the background. He made his way to his car, unlocking it with a sharp click and yanking the door open. He was just about to climb in when he heard footsteps behind him.
“Katsuki!” Kirishima’s voice called, slightly breathless from jogging to catch up.
Katsuki didn’t turn around. He stared at the empty passenger seat, jaw tight.
Kirishima slowed beside him, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, man… are we still good for tomorrow? Y’know—training?”
There was a beat of silence.
“…Yeah,” Katsuki muttered, voice rough. “Be at the gym at nine.”
Kirishima nodded, watching him with a furrowed brow. He didn’t ask more—didn’t press. He just gave him a small, understanding pat on the back and turned to head back inside.
Once alone again, Katsuki slid into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut. He sat there for a long moment, his hands gripping the steering wheel, the glow from the dashboard painting his face in dull blue light.
Eventually, he started the engine and drove.
The streets were mostly empty, the occasional streetlamp flickering past as he pulled into his new neighborhood. It was quiet here. Too quiet. He parked in the driveway of his two-story house, staring up at the dark windows. No glow of fairy lights. No laughter from the inside. No soft humming from the kitchen. Just stillness.
He shut off the engine but didn’t move right away. He leaned back in his seat, eyes closed for a moment, letting the silence press in on him like a heavy blanket. The echo of Rosie’s laugh still haunted the back of his mind, her voice tangled with the memory of warm skin and glow-in-the-dark stars.
Finally, he shoved open the door and stepped out.
Inside, the air was cold and stale. The kind of quiet that felt like it swallowed the sound whole. He didn’t bother with the lights. He just kicked off his boots at the door, climbed the stairs in the dark, and headed straight to the master bedroom. The room was untouched from this morning. No sign of life—except for the small lump curled in the middle of the bed.
Lady.
The little cat lifted her head lazily as he entered, giving a faint meow of acknowledgment before stretching and resettling on the covers.
Katsuki wordlessly pulled off his jacket, let it drop to the floor, and collapsed beside her on the bed. He laid on his back, staring up at the star filled ceiling.
Lady crept onto his chest a moment later, her soft purrs beginning to fill the silence. He raised a hand and gently scratched behind her ear. “…’Night, fuzzball,” he muttered, voice hoarse.
But the silence had already closed in again.
Notes:
I’m back! Hope you guys had an amazing weekend! I know I did, the beach was amazing! As always lemme know your thoughts and see you tomorrow!
Chapter 117: Or worse, a kiss without clearance.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Hiroshi: Wanna go out on a date?
Rosie stared at the text on her phone screen, frozen.
Her heart thumped once, then again, and then took off in a wild, flustered sprint. She had to reread it—three times. No, five. Then one more for good measure. The words didn’t change.
A date.
A blush bloomed on her cheeks, and she blinked rapidly as her eyes prickled with unexpected tears. She wasn’t even sure why—maybe because she wasn’t used to this sort of thing. No one had ever actually asked her out before… had they? She thought hard, but her mind was blank, aside from the memory of Katsuki mentioning she apparently had a secret boyfriend somewhere in the past ten months of her life. That didn’t count. That was a weird conversation. And Katsuki didn’t get to be right about everything .
Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard.
Rosie: yes
It felt simple. Honest. Like the start of something that could change everything.
Hiroshi: Tonight at seven. I’ll pick you up.
Her stomach flipped. Seven? Tonight?! She squeaked and immediately looked at her reflection in the black screen. Her hair was a mess. Her shirt was wrinkled. Her socks didn’t match. Oh god. What was she going to wear?!
She bolted from her room to the mirror, stopping short as she caught a full look at herself. A dramatic gasp escaped her.
This was a code red. She needed backup. Serious, professional, friendship-level backup. Seconds later, her phone buzzed as the group FaceTime connected. The screen filled with three beautiful, mildly chaotic faces—Akira, Maerya, and Kanako.
“HELP ME, ” Rosie wailed dramatically, flopping onto her bed, her phone aimed at the ceiling like a distress signal. “I have a DATE. Tonight. With Hiroshi.”
There was a collective scream from the group.
“Oh my god,” Maerya breathed, immediately standing up and grabbing a notebook. “Okay, first of all, congratulations. Second—do you even own something date-worthy? No offense.”
“That is rude!” Rosie grumbled.
“But fair,” Kanako added with a wince. “I’ll be there in twenty. I’m bringing my curling iron.”
“I’ll grab my makeup kit,” Maerya said, already stuffing things into a tote bag. “And snacks. This is gonna be a full montage moment.”
Twenty-five minutes later, her apartment had transformed into a full-on rom-com dressing room like those from American movies from the 2000’s. The girls had music blasting, jackets thrown over chairs, open makeup bags across the bathroom counter, and enough outfit changes to make a runway jealous.
Rosie stood barefoot in the middle of it all, wrapped in a silk robe, face bare, hair in a towel, while Kanako held up a lacy dress with a critical eye.
“This one says date me but I might vanish into a dream at midnight, ” Kanako explained.
“I love that,” Maerya said. “But what about this?” She held up a slightly more casual skirt and top combo. “This says I’m effortlessly cool and definitely didn’t spend three hours getting ready. ”
“Lies,” Akira said, unbothered, brushing eyeshadow across her own wrist to test a tone. “We’ll need to build her a flawless, no-evidence alibi.”
Rosie stared at the clothes, then at herself in the mirror again. “I’m starting to think I should cancel.”
“NO,” they all chorused in terrifying unison.
Rosie backed away with her hands raised, laughing nervously. “Okay, okay! Sheesh. I’m gonna shower. Try not to tear the place apart while I’m gone.”
She disappeared into the bathroom, the door clicking softly shut behind her and the sound of the shower starting a few seconds later. The energy in the room shifted, the music lowered. Akira exchanged a slow look with Maerya, who nodded slightly. Then both of them turned toward Kanako, who was chewing her thumbnail with the same nervous energy one might have before setting off fireworks indoors.
“…We should probably tell Katsuki,” Maerya whispered.
Kanako sighed and flopped down onto Rosie’s bed. “He’s gonna blow up. Like, full thermonuclear. ”
“We don’t even know what they are since she has no memory,” Akira said, eyes narrowing in thought. “But he’s been doing good in giving her space to get her memory back. He deserves to know what is going on with Rosie.”
“Maybe he should’ve asked her out if he cared so much,” Kanako mumbled.
Akira sighed, “right, you didn’t know…but they were dating, like secretly.”
Kanako’s eyes grew wide, “so our plan worked?”
“Anyway….” Maerya smirked. “We need to do something. I don’t trust the guy.”
A pause.
Kanako glanced toward the bathroom. “So… do we tell him?”
“I say…” Akira folded her arms. “We follow her.”
“Like stalk her?”
“Like discreetly monitor her evening for emotional security reasons,” Akira said with a sly smile.
“That’s definitely stalking,” Maerya said.
“Only if we’re bad at it,” Kanako shot back, already pulling out her phone. “I’m calling dibs on the wig drawer. I’ve always wanted to wear a trench coat and be ‘Agent K.’”
Akira exhaled. “Fine. Operation Date Night is a go. I’ll handle Katsuki. My way. ”
They all turned to the bathroom as the sound of Rosie humming reached them through the door.
“Poor girl has no idea,” Maerya said.
Rosie stood in front of the mirror, fully dressed now, and for the first time in hours, completely still. Her hair was curled to soft perfection, flowing over her shoulders like a carefully orchestrated waterfall of effort. Her makeup— thank you, Akira —was glowing but subtle, emphasizing her eyes and giving her that romantic, fresh-faced look. The dress Kanako picked hugged her just right—dreamy but not overdone. And Maerya’s final accessory choice, a delicate moonstone pendant, glinted softly against her skin.
She looked beautiful.
And nervous.
She wrung her hands and spun around to face the girls, wide-eyed. “Okay. Last chance. Should I cancel? Maybe I’ll trip. Maybe I’ll spill something. What if I accidentally confess my dark secrets or—”
Maerya pressed her hands to Rosie’s shoulders. “Breathe. This is just a date. Not a criminal trial.”
“But what if I forget how to talk? Or breathe? Or exist?”
“You won’t,” Kanako said brightly, snapping one last photo. “And if you do, we’ll immortalize it for your future wedding slideshow.”
Akira peeked out the door. “Okay, he’s here.”
Rosie squeaked and jumped in place. “Okay. Okay. Be cool. Am I cool? I’m not cool. Okay. I’m going.”
“Have fun!” all three girls sang in unison, ushering her toward the door like proud stage moms.
When Rosie opened the door, Hiroshi stood there in a dark collared shirt and a relaxed black jacket, hands tucked into his pockets and a half-smile on his lips. His purple hair was brushed and clean, and he smelled faintly of something woodsy and warm. “Wow,” he said, eyes flicking down to take in her outfit. “You look amazing.”
Rosie flushed immediately. “Thanks. You too.”
He gave a small nod to the trio hovering in the background. “Hey, girls.”
“Hi, Hiroshi,” they said in syrupy unison, overly cheerful.
“We’ll be on our best behavior,” Akira added sweetly.
He raised a brow. “Not sure if that’s comforting or terrifying.”
Rosie laughed nervously. Hiroshi offered his arm, and she took it with a quick glance back at her friends before the door closed behind them.
The second it did—“ GO GO GO GO GO— ” Maerya barked, already kicking off her slippers and sprinting for the bedroom.
Ten minutes later, the three girls were huddled inside Maerya’s silver car, parked half a block down the street. Akira was in a beige bucket hat and giant sunglasses, looking like an off-brand private investigator. Maerya had donned a pair of aviators and a hoodie pulled over her head. Kanako wore a giant black sunhat and a bright floral scarf wrapped around her mouth like a fashion-forward ninja.
“I have her location,” Akira muttered, eyes glued to her phone. “They’re heading toward… Isla Caelora.”
“Ooh,” Maerya said. “That place is fancy. Classy. Romantic.”
“Clearly Hiroshi is bringing game ,” Kanako added, flicking the blinker as they pulled out. “Too bad we’re bringing surveillance.”
Isla Caelora was nestled on the edge of downtown—a candlelit, rooftop-adjacent restaurant with twinkling string lights, slow jazz, and very real linen napkins. The trio strode in separately, then regrouped behind a decorative potted plant.
Akira whispered, “Table near theirs. Casual. Don’t spook them.”
“Ma’am,” Kanako whispered, adjusting her hat, “I am stealth incarnate.”
A few moments later, they were seated three tables away, half-hidden behind a wooden partition decorated with ivy. Hiroshi and Rosie were already seated, bathed in soft golden light. A single candle flickered between them. Rosie was smiling—but nervously. She reached for the water glass and accidentally knocked over the bread plate. It clattered against the charger and wobbled. Hiroshi caught it with casual grace.
“Smooth,” Kanako murmured, sipping from her water with a straw and not breaking eye contact.
“She’s gonna short-circuit,” Maerya muttered, watching Rosie nervously gesture through a story about cats, or possibly pastry. Her hands waved erratically, and at one point, she pointed to her own collarbone with both index fingers and then covered her face.
Akira was already filming. “This is gold.”
Rosie, in the distance, took a bite of her pasta and then immediately began coughing from swallowing wrong. Hiroshi leaned forward with concern as she waved him off, trying to smile through teary eyes.
“Death by noodles,” Maerya whispered. “We’ve all been there.”
“I swear, if she snorts water out of her nose, I’m done,” Kanako added.
Hiroshi leaned across the table, clearly saying something sweet. Rosie laughed, a real one this time, and her shoulders relaxed just slightly. The girls paused.
“She’s okay,” Akira said after a beat, lowering her phone. “Look at her. She’s fine.”
Kanako grinned. “She’s thriving. And only a little bit feral.”
They all watched her raise a fork for another bite.
Then fumble it.
And drop it.
Right into her lap.
“…Okay,” Maerya sighed. “New bet. How many times do we think she spills something before dessert?”
Akira smirked. “At least two more. But I gotta admit—she’s kind of nailing it.”
“Like a chaotic princess,” Kanako added proudly.
They all raised their waters for a stealth toast, grinning.
“To Rosie’s first date.”
“And to Hiroshi,” Maerya added. “The brave fool trying to navigate it.”
“May the odds be ever in his favor,” Akira said solemnly.
As Rosie laughed brightly at something Hiroshi said—oblivious to the very obvious not strangers spying on her three tables away—her girls smiled and watched on.
They had her back, even if it meant hiding in bushes with binoculars later.
The lights in the theater dimmed, the studio logo rolling across the screen as shrill violins set the mood. Hiroshi and Rosie settled into their seats a few rows back, sharing a large tub of popcorn, already whispering excitedly about the opening sequence.
“She’s totally gonna die first,” Rosie whispered, pointing at the girl on screen in the crop top who wandered into the woods with no flashlight.
Hiroshi smirked. “Nah. They’ll fake us out and kill the guy with the man bun instead.”
“Place your bets,” Rosie grinned, shoveling a handful of popcorn into her mouth.
A few rows behind them, things were considerably less subtle.
“Okay, I don’t want to alarm anyone,” Akira whispered, tilting her sunglasses down her nose (yes, she was still wearing them, despite it being a dark movie theater ), “but we are officially infiltrated. Look two seats to the left.”
Maerya leaned, “Oh my god. Is this what you meant by taking care of it?”
“Maybe,” she smirked. “Now let’s go join them.”
Shoto Todoroki sat stiffly with a hoodie pulled over his head, dark-rimmed glasses on his face, holding a notebook. Next to him was Denki Kaminari, who had stuffed his face with Sour Patch Kids and wore a trench coat two sizes too big. And next to him—Shinso Hiroshi, in a fake mustache.
“Do you think she noticed her date is being followed by her friends?” Kanako whispered, trying to eat popcorn without smudging her sparkly lip gloss.
“Honestly, no,” Akira said. “Rosie has always been naive and oblivious.”
Denki leaned over Shinso to whisper, “I give this date a B-minus. No major disasters, but she did drop popcorn down her shirt twice.”
“She doesn’t even notice she does it,” Shinso murmured, genuinely amused. “She just keeps talking about cinematography like she’s reviewing for a blog.”
“She does have good horror taste,” Kanako admitted, though she was now halfway curled into Shinso’s side, flinching every time something jumped on screen. “It’s the music, it’s the music,” she whined. “Why is the violin always screeching before something terrible happens?”
“It’s called suspense,” Shoto said without looking away from the screen, though he made no effort to hide his disapproval. “And she should know better than to go on a date alone with someone who may not be vetted.”
“She knows him,” Maerya said flatly. “They’ve talked.”
“Talking and trusting are not the same,” Shoto deadpanned, making a note in his notebook.
“Wait,” Akira narrowed her eyes. “Are you taking intel notes ?”
“I’m collecting behavioral data,” Shoto said, still writing.
“You guys need hobbies,” Denki whispered, now visibly sweating.
“She touched his hand!” Akira stage-whispered.
“Okay, everyone shut up,” Maerya hissed. “We’re not here to interfere—unless he tries something. Got it?”
The movie ended with a predictable twist, leaving Rosie absolutely glowing and giddy as she and Hiroshi walked out into the lobby. “Ugh, I loved that ending!” she exclaimed. “I knew the twin was the killer, but the execution? The tension? The dollhouse symbolism ? Chef’s kiss.”
“I think I have popcorn in my shoe,” Hiroshi said flatly, but with a smile that betrayed his amusement. “Worth it.”
Behind them, chaos.
Kanako clung to Shinso’s arm like she had just survived the trenches. “It was so scary , I can’t believe you made me sit through that, I feel like my soul left my body.”
“You insisted on sitting near the speakers,” Shinso muttered.
Denki had gone quiet, shivering slightly.
“You okay, Denks?” Maerya asked, raising a brow.
“I’m great, ” Denki said, voice way too high. “Totally fine. Nothing haunts me. I am the master of fear.”
A man walked by in a trench coat. Denki screamed. Everyone turned. Denki coughed, embarrassed,“ just clearing my throat.”
“Uh huh,” Akira said.
But Shoto, Maerya, and Akira weren’t watching Denki—they were watching ahead. Rosie and Hiroshi walked side by side toward the parking lot, the mood light, but unmistakably date-like.
“He’s gonna try to kiss her,” Shoto muttered.
“Yep,” Maerya said, squinting. “He’s got that lean-in energy. See the hand-to-back ratio?”
“Should we intervene?” Akira asked, already eyeing a trash bin she could trip over and roll into the scene with.
“If he touches her face, I swear—” Shoto’s voice had gone sharp.
“Would it really be that bad?” Kanako asked, raising a brow. “I mean, it’s just a kiss. It’s not like she’s marrying him.”
Shoto turned toward her slowly. “Do you want to explain that to Bakugou?”
All three paused.
Maerya’s mouth tightened. “Yeah… he will explode.”
“Like, physically and emotionally,” Akira added.
“And possibly us, ” Shoto muttered.
They all stood in silence for a moment.
“…So,” Maerya said. “We intervene if the lean exceeds a 45-degree angle.”
“Agreed,” Akira nodded. “Anything beyond that and it’s breach of perimeter.”
Shoto cracked his knuckles. “Let him try.”
Kanako, still clinging to Shinso, raised a brow. “You guys are so dramatic.”
“We’re prepared ,” Akira corrected.
Denki sniffled. “I just want to go home and watch cartoons.”
But Shoto, Akira, and Maerya were already on the move—spreading out like trained operatives, eyes on the target, ready to protect their disaster princess from any and all potential heartbreak. Or worse, a kiss without clearance.
Notes:
lemme know your thoughts and I’ll see you guys in the next one💕
Chapter 118: I’m not jealous!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Silven Realm shimmered with neon lights as Rosie and Hitoshi stepped into the second floor—a sprawling arcade bar packed with life. Even for a Thursday night in late July, the place was buzzing. The scent of fried food and sweet cocktails lingered in the air, mixed with the rhythmic beeps of arcade machines and the clack of pool balls colliding.
A group of regulars were crowded around the DDR machine, cheering on a guy in neon leg warmers. Someone shouted victoriously from the skee-ball section. A bartender with a tribal tattoo poured colorful drinks behind a glowing bar shaped like a giant potion bottle.
Hitoshi nudged Rosie with his elbow. “Not bad, huh?”
“If I could, I think I want to live here,” she said immediately, eyes sparkling as she gazed at the wall lined with retro arcade cabinets. “I want to sleep under the pinball machine and be buried beneath the claw machine.”
He smirked. “Morbid, but cute.”
Meanwhile—across the room and still in disguises—they came. Shoto, Denki, Shinso, Maerya, Kanako, and Akira entered like a makeshift spy unit walking into enemy territory.
Shinso was now sporting a baseball cap pulled low. Denki had swapped the trench coat for an oversized hoodie that said I ❤️ Snacks , though the dark circles under his eyes from the horror movie were still very visible. Akira and Maerya stuck close together, sunglasses still on, giving off the vibe of undercover pop stars. Shoto simply adjusted his hoodie and surveyed the room like a hawk circling its prey.
“Crowded,” Kanako muttered, clinging to Shinso’s arm now. “I blame the humidity.”
“It’s the Thursday drink specials,” Shinso said, scanning for open pool tables. “They have five-gem cocktails for ten bucks.”
“Priorities,” Akira murmured, while still subtly tracking Rosie and Hitoshi.
The group followed discreetly, managing to snag a pool table just two down from Rosie and Hitoshi’s. From this distance, they could still hear them if they leaned just slightly.
Rosie was laughing as she leaned over the table to line up her shot, but completely missed the ball. “Okay,” she huffed, standing up straight. “That was a practice swing.”
“Uh huh,” Hitoshi smirked. “You’ve had like six of those.”
She jabbed the cue at him. “Don’t sass me.”
“No promises.”
At their own table, Shoto lined up a shot like it was a national competition, knocking two solids in with mechanical precision.
Kanako leaned on the table dramatically. “Wow, what raw emotional energy.”
“Do you want me to break your cue stick?” he asked flatly.
“You’d have to catch me first.”
Meanwhile, Denki scratched loudly. “Darn. Missed again. I’m not even bad at pool, I’m just distracted.”
“By the neon beer signs?” Shinso asked.
“By the impending drama ,” Denki corrected, glancing toward Rosie and Hitoshi, who had moved on to ordering drinks at the bar.
Akira, leaning subtly on her cue, glanced down at her phone, her expression suddenly sharpening. “Shoto. Do not intervene.”
He straightened up, alert. “Why not?”
She didn’t look away from her screen. “Because it’ll be any minute now.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” she said slowly, a smirk curling on her lips as she watched something update in real-time on her phone, “fate is about to get spicy.”
Maerya leaned over her shoulder. “What is that?”
“Group text. Let’s just say I sent photos,” Akira murmured. “And someone might’ve dropped the word ‘date.’”
Shoto blinked. “You told him?”
“I didn’t,” she said innocently. “But I might’ve… forwarded a meme with Rosie holding a rose and the words ‘First Date Vibes’ edited on top. With location data attached.”
Shinso groaned. “You’re chaos incarnate.”
“Thank you.”
Rosie, meanwhile, had just returned to their table with two glowing drinks and was attempting to balance her pool cue between her knees while sipping through the world’s longest straw.
“I’m gonna destroy you with this next shot,” she announced.
“You said that four turns ago,” Hitoshi said dryly.
“But now I’m buzzed,” she said, lining up the shot and barely grazing the ball. It rolled two inches. “Deadly precision, my guy.”
Back at the spy table, Shoto was slowly gripping the side of the table. “He’s smiling. Why is he smiling at her like that?”
“Because he likes her, ” Maerya said. “We’ve covered this.”
Shoto narrowed his eyes. “I’ll break his hands if he tries to kiss her.”
“No, you won’t,” Akira said. “Because I want to see what happens.”
Shoto’s gaze snapped to her. “Why?”
Akira finally looked up from her phone, her grin wide now. “Because I have a hunch this night isn’t going to end the way either of them expect.”
Shoto’s jaw ticked. “Bakugou’s on his way, isn’t he?”
Akira only sipped her drink, not confirming or denying, as her phone buzzed again. “ETA: 15 minutes,” she murmured.
Everyone slowly turned to look at her.
“…You want a brawl, don’t you?” Maerya asked.
“I live for chaos,” Akira whispered.
And in the background, Rosie leaned against the table, laughing as Hitoshi offered to teach her how to hold the cue properly. The calm before the storm.
The hum of motorcycle engines broke through the thumping bass of Silven Realm’s lower floor as Katsuki and Kirishima rolled to a smooth stop just outside the building. Katsuki swung his leg off his black-and-red bike with a heavy clunk of boots on pavement, gloved hands tugging off his helmet and running through his spiky blond hair. His eyes were already sharp, focused.
He was dressed in his usual gear: fitted black pants, armored jacket unzipped just enough to show a glimpse of a sleeveless shirt beneath. His gloves were fingerless, and the dark expression on his face was very much on brand.
Kirishima, bright red hair tucked under a grey cap, glanced at him nervously. “So, like, you’re sure this is a good idea?”
Katsuki didn’t answer.
He was already walking.
Upstairs on the second floor, the chaos of Thursday night had only grown louder. The lights had dimmed slightly, strobes shifting through purples and golds. The scent of beer, buttered pretzels, and cologne blended with the rumble of crowd chatter and arcade jingles.
Akira spotted them the second they entered, her sunglasses pushed up into her hair now, one perfectly shaped brow lifting as she waved them over. “There they are.”
Kirishima offered her a sheepish smile.
Katsuki didn’t return the greeting—because halfway across the floor, his eyes had locked on her.
Rosie.
Laughing. Smiling. Standing way too close to Hitoshi as he leaned in behind her to “adjust her form” with the pool cue. Rosie wobbled, let out a giggle, and turned to tease him, their faces just a few inches apart.
Katsuki’s jaw clenched.
He didn’t see the crowd begin to shift. Didn’t see two drunk guys bump shoulders near the bar and start shoving. Didn’t notice Denki’s eyes widen across the room as one beer bottle flew through the air, crashing against the floor with a sharp smash . But the tension rippled through the room like a wave.
“Uh…” Kanako blinked. “Is that—?”
Crash. Shouting. A shove turned into a punch. Another guy jumped in. Then someone shouted something incomprehensible, and suddenly, everyone was moving. It was like a scene out of a movie—the slow, confusing escalation where the music continues like nothing's happening until it very much is .
Rosie blinked and turned her head as a scream rang out. “What the—?”
Katsuki had just taken a step toward her when a glass went flying.
Hitoshi turned. “Rosie, duck—!”
But she didn’t duck fast enough. Someone stumbled back, colliding into the table next to her. A full pint of beer launched into the air.
Rosie let out a sharp yelp
WHAM.
Katsuki was there.
He cut through the crowd like a storm, appearing beside her in a flash, one arm raised to block the incoming glass with a gloved hand. His body moved on pure instinct, pushing Rosie back just enough with the other arm before the beer exploded against his shoulder and drenched her in the fallout.
She gasped as the cold liquid soaked through her dress, clinging to her skin in a sticky, icy wave. The shock made her jump, and she blinked up at the figure who had stepped in front of her just in time. “ Katsuki?! ” Rosie’s voice was small, stunned, her eyes wide as they locked onto his.
He was breathing hard, jaw tight, fury flashing in his crimson gaze as he scanned her from head to toe. “You good?” he asked, his voice low and fierce, rough with adrenaline.
“I—yeah, I— ugh, I smell like a brewery—”
Before anything else could be said, Hitoshi stepped in, tension riding his shoulders. “What the hell is going on?”
But then a chair scraped violently nearby and someone barreled into Hitoshi’s side, dragging him straight into the chaos of the fight breaking out across the arcade floor.
“ Hitoshi! ” Rosie called, reaching instinctively, but he was already caught in the swell of flailing arms and drunken shouting.
Kirishima was at Katsuki’s side in a blur, his hands up, trying to separate people, calling out “Hey! Easy! Easy—don’t be idiots!” as he wedged himself between two men swinging wildly.
Denki, shrieking after dodging a flying dart, tripped over a bar stool and crawled for cover. Maerya and Akira ducked behind the pool table, yelling commentary like they were watching a street fight on pay-per-view. Shoto was calm and terrifying, sleeves rolled up, dragging one guy toward the door with his usual ice-cold expression of I dare you. Try me.
Katsuki reached to pull Rosie behind him again when something sharp glinted in the corner of his vision. A drunken man stumbled from the fray, blood already dripping from his temple, pupils wild and unfocused, holding a jagged beer bottle in his raised hand, and it was pointed straight at Rosie.
She didn’t see it. She was too busy tracking Hitoshi.
But Katsuki saw, without hesitation, he lunged. The glass came down fast—too fast to block cleanly with anything but his hand. SHHK. The jagged edge bit deep into his palm. Rosie gasped, turning just in time to see blood bloom from between his fingers as he caught the blow meant for her.
Katsuki didn’t even flinch. He yanked the bottle from the drunk’s grip, flung it aside, and grabbed the man by the collar with his bleeding hand. “ Back the fuck off before I kill you, ” he snarled, pure rage boiling off him.
The guy stammered something unintelligible, and Katsuki shoved him backward—right into a knot of other brawlers. They toppled like bowling pins, shouting in protest. Katsuki turned back toward Rosie, blood dripping from his hand. “You okay?”
But she wasn’t listening anymore, instead she grabbed him. “Come here.”
“What—?”
Her fingers curled around his wrist, dragging him away from the chaos as the crowd roared and arcade lights flashed like strobes. He let her pull him, weaving through the mess and down a narrow hall near the bathrooms. The noise dimmed, the neon faded, and she kicked open the door to the women’s room and yanked him inside without a second thought.
The space was bright and sterile, pale tile and the sharp scent of hand soap. “Sit,” she snapped, her voice breathless and commanding.
Katsuki blinked as she shoved him toward the counter beside the sinks. “Rosie—”
“Shut up,” she muttered, flipping the faucet on and grabbing paper towels.
Water ran warm over his hand as she guided it under the stream, and he hissed through his teeth, not from pain—but from her touch. Her hands were gentle, moving with purpose as she cleaned away the blood. He watched her in silence. Watched the way her lip tucked between her teeth. The way her brow furrowed as she carefully washed over the jagged cut in his palm.
“You’re such an idiot,” she whispered. “You could’ve lost your hand.”
“You could’ve lost your head,” he snapped back, but his voice was softer now.
When the blood was mostly rinsed, she leaned forward, her hands cupping his, and she pressed a kiss to his palm. His entire body tensed . A soft, glowing warmth pulsed from where her lips touched his skin. A golden shimmer spread over the wound, sealing it slowly, the pain melting away as if it had never been.
Her quirk.
She didn’t look at him. Not at first. She just stood there, gently holding his now-healed hand, her breath catching. Katsuki could only stare, she was too close. His hand still tingled from where she had kissed him, in that quiet, sterile bathroom, with the sound of the fight still echoing from far away, everything between them suddenly felt sharp and electric.
Rosie finally looked up at him.
And for once, Katsuki couldn’t find a single thing to say. Katsuki stared at her. The bathroom lights were too damn bright, and her eyes were too damn wide, shimmering like she hadn’t just kissed his hand and healed him like it was nothing. Her lips were parted, her breath still caught, and she was so close that he could feel the heat radiating off her skin, the faint rise and fall of her chest matching his.
The adrenaline pounded in his veins, but under it—beneath the anger and the blood—was a kind of panic he refused to name. What the hell was she thinking? With him? With anyone ? “You really think that was safe?” he growled, his voice low and biting. “Going out with some guy who could’ve gotten you killed?”
Rosie blinked, startled at the sudden venom in his voice. “Killed? What are you—?”
“You don’t know him,” Katsuki snapped, taking a step forward. “You think because he’s got a soft voice and some dry jokes, he’s not dangerous? That he can protect you if shit goes sideways like it just did?”
Rosie pouted, folding her arms. “My date was going just fine until half the building started throwing beer bottles!”
He narrowed his eyes. “If I hadn’t shown up—”
“But you did, ” she said firmly, poking him in the chest. “And I didn’t ask you to come in here swinging like a jealous attack dog!”
“I’m not jealous!” he barked, jaw flexing.
She arched a brow. “You sure? ‘Cause it kinda felt like you were about to body Hitoshi the moment you saw him blink in my direction.”
His hands curled into fists at his sides. His voice dropped, hot and hoarse. “You don’t get it, Rosie. I see you with someone like him—someone who doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing—and all I can think about is how many ways that could go wrong. ”
“Why?” she challenged, her voice rising to meet his. “Why do you care so much if I’m on a date?”
His mouth opened—but the words caught, sharp and bitter on his tongue. She was in his space now, toe-to-toe with him, her eyes flashing with stubborn heat. Her cheeks were still flushed, her dress still damp, but she stood tall, unafraid, and too damn close. Katsuki could feel the pounding of his heart in his teeth. Their chests brushed as they both stepped forward, breathing hard, like the tension between them had nowhere else to go but closer.
“Because—” he started.
But the door swung open. Shoto poked his head in like he hadn’t just walked in on the emotional equivalent of an active volcano. “The fight’s over,” he said flatly. “Cops are here. So are ambulances. Kirishima and I are talking to the police. Denki’s giving a statement while still hiding under a foosball table.”
Katsuki didn’t look away from Rosie.
“Also,” Shoto continued, “a man dressed like a banana is being questioned. Unclear if involved.”
Still nothing from either of them.
Shoto sighed. “Katsuki, you should let me take her home.”
Katsuki finally blinked. The tightness in his chest pulled taut like wire, and he stepped back. Just once. He didn’t say anything to Rosie. Didn’t trust himself to. Instead, he turned to Shoto, his face dark, his voice low. “Yeah. Take her.”
“Katsuki—” Rosie started.
But he was already brushing past Shoto, not sparing her a glance.
Because if he stayed, if he stayed one more second in that bathroom with her, wet dress and pouting lips and that stubborn fire in her eyes—He’d say something he’d regret. Or worse, something true that would only leave her more confused.
Notes:
I apologize for the lack of updates. I took a break after receiving a rather nasty message on tumblr from a reader who told me that everything about my fic was wrong, that I need to rewrite it to suit the needs of a wider audience. Usually I ignore these but it really bothered me more than usual. It still does.
but! I still have a couple of chapters in the drafts that are ready to be posted. I haven’t written anything in the last week and a half as I have lost motivation after that little novel of theirs.
anyway, we finally we get some Katsuki and Rosie moments :) let me know your thoughts💕
Chapter 119: He rides a motorcycle? Oh, that was just unfair.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
How dare he?
How dare he storm out of that bathroom like he hadn’t just lectured her in the most arrogant, infuriating way possible? Like she was some reckless idiot who couldn’t wipe her own nose, let alone go on a date? Like her choices needed his approval?
Rosie’s fists clenched at her sides as she watched Katsuki disappear into the hallway, his broad shoulders stiff with tension. Her heels clicked sharply against the tile as she rushed out after him, weaving through a sea of uniforms, still-drunken patrons, and paramedics tending to minor injuries. The chaos around her blurred—none of it mattered. Not when her chest was still heaving with frustration and her hands were trembling with heat. She shoved open the double doors to the front of the building—and the summer night air hit her skin like a slap.
There he was. Katsuki, The jerk was straddling a crimson-and-black motorcycle like he belonged on the cover of a magazine, his jaw clenched, his eyes hidden by the angle of his head as he adjusted his gloves.
He rides a motorcycle? Oh, that was just unfair.
Guys who rode bikes were hot. Objectively. Universally. Biologically proven, probably. And Katsuki? With his stupid leather jacket and that perfectly messy blond hair catching the streetlight? He looked like a dream she'd punch herself for having.
If only he wasn’t him.
“Katsuki!” she snapped, stomping across the pavement, the hem of her beer-soaked dress swishing around the tops of her thighs.
He looked over his shoulder, already exasperated. “Go back inside, princess.”
“No.”
He groaned. “You shouldn’t be out here like that.”
“You don’t get to tell me I’m not your friend and then tell me what I should or shouldn’t do!” she huffed, stopping just a few feet away from him. “You don’t get to have it both ways!”
He swung a leg off the bike and turned fully to face her, jaw tight. “It’s the truth. I could never be friends with you.”
“Why?”
“None of your damn business!” he snapped, voice sharp with disbelief.
“Well, congratulations we don’t always get what we want!” she shot back, gesturing at her dress. “I’m soaked in beer, my date was tackled into a foosball table, and I just used my quirk to heal your dumb, heroic hand after you tried to fistfight a guy with a broken bottle!”
“That guy was coming for you! ” he barked, stepping closer now, face flushed with heat. “What the hell did you want me to do, stand there and let it happen?!”
Rosie opened her mouth, then shut it, flustered. She hadn’t expected him to yell back. Her words stumbled as her mind raced, fueled by anger and adrenaline and—damn it—attraction .
Why did he have to stand so close? And why did his hair always look good, even after getting into a fight and bleeding?
She swallowed hard, trying to push past the rising heat in her cheeks. “I didn’t ask you to rescue me, Bakugou.”
“No, you didn’t,” he growled. “And that’s exactly the problem.”
She blinked. “...What the hell does that mean?”
“It means,” he said, taking another step toward her, close enough now that she had to tilt her chin up to meet his glare, “that you don’t think twice about running around with guys you barely know, without backup, without telling anyone, without even thinking about what might happen if something goes wrong.”
“I can take care of myself!”
“You shouldn’t have to!” he shouted, voice raw now, like something had broken loose beneath the surface. “You shouldn’t have to fight for your life in a damn bar because you wanted to go on a stupid date.”
She stared at him, her breath catching.
His chest was heaving. His fists were clenched. His eyes—those wildfire eyes—were burning into her like she was the only thing left in the world he wanted to yell at. Or touch.
Her heart stuttered traitorously.
Because up close, Katsuki Bakugou is too much. Too intense. Too fierce. Too handsome with that defiant tilt to his mouth, the sweat-damp collar of his shirt pulled just slightly aside, the tension in his muscles screaming for something—anything—to release.
She hated how badly she wanted to touch him. She hated that she couldn’t stop looking at him. God, he was so infuriating with this hot and cold behavior that he was giving her. Just what about her made him hate her so much?
Rosie crossed her arms, even though it did little to hide the flush creeping up her neck. “So what—you’re mad because I went on a date?”
“I’m mad,” he bit out, voice quieter now, but no less furious, “because you think it doesn’t matter who you trust.”
She faltered, stunned by the weight of that.
He exhaled sharply, jaw flexing like he wanted to say more, like he was holding back an entire dam’s worth of words. But instead, he just looked away—shoulders rigid—and stepped back toward his bike. “Next time,” he said coldly, “don’t expect me to be there.”
Her heart cracked. “Katsuki—”
He didn’t wait. He pulled his helmet over his head, straddled the bike again, and with a roar of the engine, tore down the street and into the dark.
“Ready to go home?” Rosie turned to see Shoto holding her purse and sweater
“Yes,” she spoke softly.
Shoto walked beside Rosie, his hands in his pockets, his steps unhurried as they made their way up the stairs of her apartment complex. The fluorescent lights of the hallway flickered faintly, casting long shadows across the cream colored walls. The only sound between them was the soft scuff of her heels on the tile floor, sticky and uncomfortable from the dried beer that clung to the hem of her dress. The whole ride home had been quiet. Not awkward—just heavy. Full of everything neither of them had said.
Rosie came to a stop in front of her door, her fingers fiddling with the keys. She glanced up at him, her voice low, tired. “Thank you for driving me home.”
Shoto gave a small smile, calm and sincere as always. “No need for thanks.”
She looked down, the keys jangling lightly in her hand. “…Why does he hate me?”
Shoto didn’t answer immediately. His gaze drifted toward the floor for a beat before he looked at her, eyes steady and kind. “He doesn’t hate you.”
“Then why does he—”
“Katsuki is the one who found you,” Shoto said, quiet but firm. “The night you were rescued, it had been him. He’s the one who carried you out.”
Rosie blinked, stunned. “He… he saved me?”
Shoto nodded slowly. “Yes. He found you before the others. And when he saw the condition you were in… he wouldn’t let anyone else touch you. Not the medics. Not the other pros. He held you the entire time on the way to the hospital.”
Rosie’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Her mind was spinning, replaying the scene she hadn’t even known existed—Katsuki, cradling her, furious and frantic, refusing to let go.
“It might not seem like it,” Shoto added gently, “but Katsuki cares about you. Probably more than he knows how to deal with.”
She stared at him, heart pounding. “Then why—”
“He’s always been difficult,” Shoto said, offering a small, knowing shrug. “Ever since I’ve known him.”
That got a faint, choked laugh out of her. Just barely.
“Goodnight, Rosie,” he said softly.
She nodded, her voice catching in her throat. “Goodnight, Shoto.”
He gave her one last lingering look before turning and walking back down the hallway, his footsteps fading slowly as he disappeared around the corner.
Rosie stood in front of her door for a moment longer, her heart heavy and her thoughts swirling. She finally pushed it open and stepped inside.
The apartment was dim, bathed in soft shadows. The only sound was the rhythmic breathing of Maya, curled underneath a pillow. A TV show had been left on pause, casting blue light across the living room. Rosie shut the door quietly behind her and slipped off her heels, the silence settling around her like a blanket.
She made her way to the bathroom, flicking on the light with a sigh. The mirror reflected a girl she barely recognized—hair damp from the summer air, makeup smudged, eyes still wide from the night’s events.
Rosie turned on the shower and let the water run hot, steam quickly fogging up the mirror. She peeled off the sticky dress and stepped under the spray, letting the warmth soothe her aching muscles and wash away the remnants of spilled drinks and adrenaline.
But the heat did nothing for the ache in her chest.
He saved me.
She leaned her head against the tiled wall, water streaming down her face. She hadn’t known. No one had told her—not until now. And it wasn’t just that he’d saved her. It was how he’d done it. The stubbornness. The protectiveness. The way he’d carried her like she was something precious. He hadn’t let anyone else touch her.
Rosie closed her eyes, lips trembling. Why would he do that for someone he doesn’t like?
The memory of his voice echoed in her mind—sharp, angry, hurting. “Next time, don’t expect me to be there.”
But he had been there, before anyone else, and even now, even after tonight…He still was.
Her fingers curled around her arms as she stood there beneath the water, unsure of whether she wanted to scream, cry, or run after him again.
Because suddenly, nothing felt simple and she felt the frustration build. She just wanted her memory back already. It would make everything so much easier for her. Everything would make a lot more sense if anything or at the very least, she wouldn’t feel so isolated.
The sun filtered softly through the window of the cozy corner booth at the café, glinting off the polished wooden table and catching the amber swirl in Rosie’s iced tea. Across from her sat Aizawa, his usual dark clothes contrasting with the gentle midday light, a quiet but constant presence. Beside him, Eri cheerfully munched on her sandwich, kicking her feet beneath the table.
“How are you feeling today?” Aizawa asked, his voice calm, but laced with a subtle undercurrent of concern.
Since the incident, he made a point to constantly check in on her with calls and texts throughout the day. Uncle Mic told her that her Dad kinda lost it there when she was taken. She asked and he refused to speak anymore of it.
Rosie poked at her salad with a fork, glancing up at him. “I’m okay. Still no memory, though. Not a flash. Not even a weird dream or gut feeling. Just… blank.”
He studied her silently for a beat, then nodded. “That’s alright. It’ll come back when your mind is ready.”
She offered him a small smile. “Thanks, Dad.”
Eri glanced up at her, chewing thoughtfully.
Rosie reached for her drink, blowing the straw in idle distraction. “I did go on a date last night.”
Aizawa blinked slowly. “A date?”
“Yep,” Rosie said, popping the 'p.' “His name’s Hiroshi. I met him at the ice cream shop he works at.”
Aizawa raised a brow. “And?”
“It was going well—until the whole place devolved into a bar fight.” She shook her head, equal parts embarrassed and amused. “We were at Silven Realm. One second we’re playing pool, the next, someone’s throwing darts and beer bottles.”
“Hiroshi,” Aizawa repeated, like he was mentally filing the name away for later scrutiny. “I don’t recall hearing of him before.”
“Wee have only been talking for a bit,” she confirmed, stabbing a tomato in her salad.
Before Aizawa could say anything else, Eri slammed her hands down on the table with a dramatic gasp, making everyone jump slightly. “You need to stop seeing him!” she blurted out.
Rosie’s eyes widened. “Wait—what?”
Aizawa looked equally startled, his gaze snapping down to Eri. “Eri—”
“It’s sister intuition! ” Eri declared, eyes big and serious. “It’s very real. I read about it in a manga. And I felt it. ”
Rosie stared at her, trying not to laugh but failing. “Sister intuition?”
Eri nodded solemnly. “My soul screamed. I don’t trust him.”
Rosie sputtered, half-laughing, half-shocked. “Eri!”
Aizawa rubbed a hand over his face and sighed heavily. “Can we not judge people based on manga tropes?”
Eri immediately sat up straighter, smiling sweetly. “Okay. So—anyway! Guess what I learned in science class!”
Rosie blinked at the sudden pivot. “Uh—what?”
Eri launched into a passionate explanation about how frogs can freeze themselves and survive, leaving Rosie and Aizawa exchanging a bemused look over the top of their drinks.
Rosie gave a soft chuckle and shook her head. “I can’t tell if I’m in an anime or a sitcom.”
“Both,” Aizawa murmured, sipping his coffee. “Absolutely both.”
After lunch, Aizawa drove them back through the quiet streets, the city’s midday lull casting everything in a golden haze. The car ride was mostly quiet—Eri had her phone out, thumbs flying across the screen with the intense focus only a tween girl in the middle of a conversation could muster. Rosie assumed she was just texting Kota; she hadn’t seen him in over a week, and their video calls had a strict five-minute limit before either one got “too cool” and hung up dramatically.
When Aizawa pulled up in front of her apartment building, Rosie leaned forward from the back seat. “Thanks, Dad.”
He gave her a nod and glanced at Eri. “Behave.”
“I always behave,” Eri replied, completely unconvincing.
Rosie rolled her eyes affectionately and tugged Eri along as they made their way inside.
Back in her apartment, the scent of roses cleaning spray soon filled the air. Rosie had kicked off her sandals and tied her hair up in a loose bun, a playlist echoing softly through her Bluetooth speaker. She moved from one chore to the next—laundry baskets shuffled around, couch cushions fluffed, dishes rinsed. She always cleaned when her mind was cluttered, and after last night and her talk with Shoto, her head felt like a tangled mess of confusion and unresolved feelings.
Meanwhile, Eri had settled herself comfortably in the living room, curled up with a throw pillow and sipping pink lemonade from a bendy straw. Her eyes never left her phone, her thumbs a blur. Every so often, she’d giggle or gasp and mutter something like “He did not just say that,” and Rosie would shake her head from the laundry room.
Rosie had just loaded the dryer when a knock came at the door. She blinked, surprised. “Eri? Did you order something again?”
“Nope!” Eri chirped, never looking up from her phone.
Wiping her hands on a towel, Rosie headed to the door and opened it, only to find Hiroshi standing there, holding a small bag of pastel macarons and a hopeful smile.
“Hey,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “I was in the neighborhood and figured I’d stop by… I wanted to see if maybe we could try a do-over date? Something simple. Low-key. No bar fights this time.”
Rosie blinked in surprise, caught off guard. “Oh! Hiroshi, I—”
“ Nope. ” Eri’s voice rang out from behind her, sharp and unyielding.
Rosie turned just as Eri all but appeared at her side like a tiny gremlin guardian, arms crossed and lemonade in hand.
“She’s busy.”
Hiroshi blinked. “I… was just hoping for a chance to talk—”
“Can’t. Sorry. We have plans.”
He looked at Rosie again, confused. “Well, maybe this Saturday?”
Eri stepped forward like a mafia enforcer. “Won’t happen. We’re going to an amusement park all day. No time for dating.”
Rosie stared, mouth agape. “Eri!”
Eri turned her head just enough to give Rosie a very obvious “ trust me, I’m doing you a favor ” look before returning to Hiroshi with a polite smile that was not polite. “Thank you for stopping by. Bye now.” She then closed the door.
Rosie whirled around. “ Eri! ”
Eri shrugged and walked back to the couch like she hadn’t just verbally beaten a boy’s ego into the stratosphere. “He’s too nice. It’s suspicious.”
Rosie groaned and immediately opened the door again. Hiroshi was still there, looking somewhere between startled and amused. “I am so sorry,” she said, stepping out onto the mat. “She’s not usually this… possessive .”
“It’s alright,” he said, offering her the bag of macarons with a chuckle. “I like a protective little sister. She’s got spirit.”
Rosie took the bag, her cheeks flushed. “Thanks. And again, I’m really sorry about that. I’ll text you later, okay? I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
Hiroshi smiled, his shoulders relaxing. “Looking forward to it.”
As he turned and headed down the hall, Rosie stood in the doorway, cradling the macarons and feeling like she was living a dream. Behind her, Eri took another sip of lemonade and muttered, “He smells funny.”
Rosie groaned into her hands.
Notes:
Happy July everyone!
is this considered slight enemies to lovers now on top of the grumpy x sunshine trope??🤨🤭 you guys tell me
also, thank you to everyone for your kind words and reaching out as it helped cheer me up! I'm so grateful to all of my readers for coming back to reading this fic and enjoying it!
anyway, I hope you guys loved the chapter and I will see you in the next one!💖
Chapter 120: You should really watch yourself, Dynamight
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“What the hell?”
Katsuki stopped dead in his tracks the moment he spotted who was sitting across from Izuku at the tiny café table. This was not what he expected when Deku had texted him after patrol, insisting they meet up. He’d thought maybe it was some mission follow-up, a last-minute intel drop—or, more annoyingly, some sentimental pep talk that he had been giving him for weeks.
What he got instead was a fourteen-year-old boy in a red baseball cap with tiny devil horns sewn on, sitting stiff-backed in a chair like he was ready for war.
Izuku gave him a sheepish smile as he sipped from his stupid honey chamomile tea. “Kota messaged me and said he really needed to see you and talk. Figured I’d help facilitate.”
Katsuki turned slowly, his crimson eyes narrowing on the kid. “What do you want, brat? ”
Kota glared back with every ounce of teenage indignation he could muster. “This Saturday, Eri wants to go to the amusement park,” he said, like each word was being physically wrenched out of him. “And we need a chaperone. So I’m asking you.”
Katsuki stared at him, mouth open like the kid had just demanded his bank password. “The hell I look like, a babysitter?!”
Kota crossed his arms. “You’re not a babysitter. You’re strong. And loud. People won’t mess with us if you’re there.”
Katsuki’s eye twitched. “That’s not—why me?! Why not Deku?!”
“I have an assignment that I will be leaving for tonight and won’t be back for a week,” Izuku said quickly, “but even then he insists on you, since apparently you have more… intimidating energy.”
“Damn right I do,” Katsuki muttered, but his annoyance faltered as he studied the kid more closely.
The defensiveness. The scowl. The way Kota’s fingers fidgeted subtly on the edge of his sleeve as he tried to keep his voice from shaking. Katsuki saw it plain as day. This little punk was him. A younger, shorter, grumpier version of himself—just with a red cap and fewer explosions. And just like him back then, the kid was trying way too hard to cover up how much he cared about a girl. All this bravado was just a smoke screen for how nervous he was about spending a day with Eri.
Katsuki exhaled slowly, glaring off toward the street.
Goddamn it. Of course this would happen. He could already imagine Rosie’s face—laughing, soft, bright-eyed—if she heard about this. She’d put her hand on his arm and call him “sweet” or something equally embarrassing. And if she were here, she'd be the first to tell him to go.
Rosie.
Tension prickled up his spine at the thought of her. The memory of her in the rain, in that bathroom, looking up at him with wide eyes like she wanted answers he couldn’t give. She’d want this. She’d want Eri to go and have fun and be surrounded by people who cared about her.
Katsuki let out a low, begrudging sigh and dragged a hand down his face. “Fine.”
Kota blinked. “Wait, really?”
“But I swear to god, kid—” he jabbed a finger across the table at him, “—if you make me go on some spinning teacup ride, I’ll launch us both into orbit.”
Kota smirked in that smug, satisfied way that made Katsuki want to flip the table. “Noted.”
Izuku smiled brightly. “See? Look at this teamwork!”
“Don’t push your luck, nerd.” Katsuki leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, glaring at the sky as if it had personally betrayed him.
Because come Saturday, he wasn’t just going to an amusement park. He was walking straight into chaos—with teenagers, rollercoasters, and unresolved feelings.
The sun was just beginning to peak over the massive steel coaster arches of the amusement park, painting the sky in streaks of honeyed orange and soft blue. The morning buzz hadn’t quite settled into chaos yet; vendors were still wheeling in churro carts and testing the music systems that would soon blast bubblegum pop through every corner of the park.
Katsuki stood off to the side near the entrance gate, arms crossed, clad in a black t-shirt with a white skull on it, gray jeans, and sunglasses perched on his nose like armor. His stance screamed “do not talk to me,” which of course made Kota stand next to him and immediately do exactly that.
Kota, still wearing his trademark red cap—though this time it was backwards and paired with a button-up that someone (probably Eri) had forced him into—was bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet.
Katsuki had been trying to ignore him. Trying really damn hard. But the moment Kota sighed and asked, “So um… how do you do it?” all hope of silence died.
Katsuki gave a withering look over the top of his sunglasses. “Do what, exactly?”
Kota flushed slightly, scuffing the toe of his sneaker on the ground. “Y’know… get a girl to like you. ”
Katsuki blinked. The question hit harder than expected. He turned his gaze out toward the ticket booths and let the silence stretch for a beat. Get a girl to like you.
His mind, traitorous and sharp, immediately conjured the image of Rosie: laughing as she played whack-a-mole, looking at him with those big stupid eyes, flushed cheeks, and pouty lips. The girl he tried to avoid falling for. The one he ended up falling into like a wildfire.
He exhaled through his nose, slow and tired. “You think I’m the right guy to ask about that?”
Kota looked up at him. “I mean… yeah. Eri likes you. A lot. You’re cool. In the explodey, ‘I-don’t-smile-but-I’ll-punch-a-guy-for-you’ kinda way.”
“Tch.”
“I just…” Kota hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “I like Eri. A lot. And she’s smart and funny and way cooler than I am. And I don’t wanna mess this up.”
Katsuki glanced down at him.
And, dammit, he saw himself again—awkward, emotionally constipated, and doing everything in the wrong order because feelings made no damn sense.
“I don’t know much about dating,” Katsuki said gruffly. “Didn’t care for it. Never liked the drama. Or the idea of pretending to be something just to impress someone.”
Kota tilted his head. “But you must’ve liked someone .”
Katsuki didn’t answer right away. His jaw ticked as he stared at the pavement like it owed him something. “I did,” he said eventually, voice quieter now. “Still do.”
Kota’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
Katsuki nodded once. “It just… happened. Wasn’t planned. She was quiet. Too perfect. Drove me nuts. But she gave a shit about people. Too kind and naive for her own good and definitely too good for me.”
Kota listened, wide-eyed.
“I didn’t realize how bad I had it until it was too late,” Katsuki continued, a small bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I fucked it up by listening to the advice of others. I thought that by following the advice I was given that I could do right by her.” He gave a soft, humorless snort. “Obviously that didn’t work out”
Kota glanced away, the weight of the confession clearly hitting him in some small, thoughtful way. “Did she like you back?” he asked.
Katsuki smirked faintly, just enough to hide the sting. “Yeah. She did. Probably still does.”
“So why aren’t you with her?”
Katsuki didn’t answer for a long moment. Then he muttered, “Because I’m a fucking idiot.”
They stood there in silence after that. Kota fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, Katsuki watching the distant silhouette of the Ferris wheel.
“Look,” Katsuki finally said, voice low, “you don’t need some magic trick to get her to like you. Just be real with her. Tell her how you feel. It doesn’t need to be pretty. It just needs to be honest.”
Kota nodded slowly. “Okay… yeah. Okay. That helps.”
“Good.”
“…You gonna tell your girl?”
Katsuki shot him a glare that could melt steel. “ Mind your business, horn boy. ”
Kota grinned. Just then, Eri came bounding up in a pastel hoodie covered in cartoon rabbits, waving excitedly. Kota immediately stood straighter, brushing invisible lint off his shirt, and Katsuki sighed long and deep as he shoved his hands into the pocket of his jeans.
Here we go.
The line for the second roller coaster was long, curling around the base of the massive, twisting steel frame like a lazy river of anxious anticipation and overpriced snacks. Katsuki stood at the back of their group, arms folded, scowling at nothing in particular while Eri stood a few feet ahead of him, chattering a mile a minute.
She was going on about the last ride, describing every dip and drop with hand gestures that nearly knocked Kota’s hat off. The boy just stood there, listening with rapt attention, his usual grumpy scowl softened into something suspiciously close to a smile.
Katsuki snorted quietly.
Those two...
Eri bouncing on her heels with unfiltered excitement, and Kota pretending to be annoyed but hanging onto her every word—it was uncanny. Too uncanny. It reminded him— too much —of himself and Rosie. Him, always on edge. Guarded. Grumpy. Her, warm and chaotic and sweet. Tugging at his walls like they were ribbons to unravel. She never needed permission to crawl under his skin—she just lived there now. Rent-free. Permanently.
He smirked faintly to himself, gaze lowering as a faint, traitorous warmth bloomed in his chest. How the hell did I end up surrounded by mini versions of us?
“ Rosie!! ” Eri’s voice rang out like a bell.
Katsuki blinked, the sound jarring him out of his thoughts.
He turned his head slightly, already feeling the corner of his jaw tense and froze. There she was in heels.
Rosie was walking toward them with a wave, sunshine catching in the soft waves of her pink hair, a pair of sunglasses perched on her head. Her crop top hung off one shoulder, high waisted denim shorts hugging her hips, and her skin glowed with that effortless kind of warmth that made his lungs forget how to function.
Katsuki stopped breathing.
She smiled as she approached, bright and real, the kind of smile that punched him straight in the chest.
Goddammit, how is she even more gorgeous in the summer?
His stomach twisted—sharp, aching.
It’s not fair.
How could she be all light and laughter while he was a walking mess of frustration and longing? She didn’t even realize what she did to him, how seeing her smile like that, not at him , felt like losing a war he didn’t know he was fighting. He watched her, trapped in the moment. Admiring. Longing. Falling, even now.
He swallowed hard.
Blink.
The warmth shut down.
His mouth pressed into a thin line, brows drawing together again. The smile faded from his face, replaced with the familiar armor of indifference as he turned his body slightly away, pretending not to care. Pretending she isn’t the most beautiful person he’d ever seen and would ever see. Pretending he hadn’t just spiraled over her in the span of three seconds.
Rosie stopped beside them with a light laugh. “Sorry I’m late—I had to pick up Maya from the groomer. She got glitter on her paws. Don’t ask me how.”
Katsuki scowled and tore his gaze away from Rosie, his chest still tight from the way she’d said “Hey” like it hadn’t been a week of tension, week of silence. As if he hadn’t been dodging every thought of her since that night at Silven's.
His eyes flicked toward the line again, and that’s when he saw it—Eri smirking up at him like she knew exactly what she was doing.
Katsuki narrowed his eyes. Did she plan this?
Before he could say anything, she grabbed Kota’s wrist. “Come on! Front row!” she chirped and tugged the boy along with her toward the loading platform.
Kota blinked. “Wait—wait, what do you mean front— ?!”
Too late. Katsuki watched them disappear up the steps with a suspicious frown. His gaze lingered for a beat longer, his instincts prickling. This wasn’t some spontaneous rollercoaster excursion. This was a setup. The kid set him up.
He turned just in time to see Rosie already looking toward the coaster. Her lips curved with soft amusement as she muttered something under her breath, probably about Eri’s ability to steamroll through her own plans.
Katsuki sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. It was going to be a long day.
The day unfolded in a blur of sun, screams, and the constant hiss of soda fountains and snack carts. Rosie and Katsuki, despite being the supposed chaperones , barely spoke a word to each other. They both followed Eri and Kota through the park like silent bodyguards who were maybe thinking about murdering each other if left alone too long.
Eri and Kota didn’t notice—or pretended not to. They were too busy getting soaked on the log flume ride, competing at the ring toss booth (which Eri won by sheer ferocity), and nearly throwing up on the spinning teacups. Katsuki kept his hands in his pockets most of the time, jaw clenched and sunglasses low on his nose. Rosie kept nervously sipping from her giant lemonade.
They stood together in line after line, but said nothing. They stood at the exit ramps, waiting for the kids to come out of each ride, but said nothing. Even when Rosie had to stop and tie her shoe and Katsuki almost bent down to help her like he usually did but then stopped himself, they still said nothing.
It wasn’t until the midday heat forced them all to retreat toward the food court that anything shifted. “I want burgers,” Eri declared, dramatically wiping sweat off her forehead as they entered the shaded eating area filled with plastic tables and misting fans.
“Me too,” Kota agreed, voice low as he fiddled with his phone.
They all stood there in the middle of the chaos, the kids looking expectantly up at their respective adults.
Rosie, trying to be helpful, smiled gently. “Do you guys want your own table?”
Eri nodded, way too fast. “Yes, please!”
Before Rosie could say anything else, Eri grabbed Kota’s sleeve and dragged him toward the far end of the eating area where the shadiest table was. They settled in like royalty.
“…We’re being ditched by teenagers,” Rosie muttered.
Katsuki snorted, crossing his arms. “You act like that’s new.”
Rosie blinked at him, then gave a tired little laugh. “Fair.”
They walked to a smaller table a short distance away and sat down in the awkward, hesitant silence that always came after a long time of not talking. Rosie fiddled with her hands while Katsuki leaned back in his chair, arms crossed tightly.
Finally, Rosie cleared her throat, eyes still on the table. “I haven’t really… talked to you since the bar.”
Katsuki didn’t respond immediately. His jaw flexed.
She looked up at him, searching his face. “I thought you hated me.”
Katsuki let out a low, bitter laugh. “You really think I’d save your ass if I hated you?”
Rosie’s lips twitched. “You were sulking.”
“I don’t sulk. ”
“Mm-hmm.”
Silence again.
Katsuki exhaled hard and scrubbed a rough hand down his face, his palm dragging across the scruff on his jaw as if the motion could force the heat in his chest to settle. He didn’t know why they always ended up like this—too close, too real, too raw. “You need to be more careful,” he muttered, keeping his eyes on the pavement just past her feet. “Otherwise, you’re gonna end up getting hurt. Or in a situation where you can’t defend yourself.”
Rosie blinked at him, the softness in her eyes making it harder to breathe. “Why do you care so much?”
The words almost slipped. Because I love you. Because I never stopped. Because I’m not over it, not even close. But her memories were still a fractured, gaping void, and his confession would just sound like guilt or pressure. So instead—he lied. “Because you’re Aizawa’s daughter,” he said gruffly, his tone clipped. “You’re important to him. Which makes it my damn responsibility.”
He saw it hit her. Not hard. Not like a slap—but like a hollow thud in the chest. Her eyes dropped, and her voice was quiet when she murmured, “Oh.”
It made something in him ache.
Then her stomach gave a traitorous growl.
Katsuki blinked.
Her hand shot to her belly, embarrassed. “Sorry—I didn’t really eat lunch,” she said, laughing awkwardly. “Just a lemonade and… like, a corner of funnel cake earlier.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes and stood abruptly. “Stay here. I’ll get something.”
She blinked. “Wait, you don’t have to—”
“I know, ” he snapped, already turning toward the row of food carts. “But I’m doing it anyway, so shut up.”
He stalked off before she could argue, annoyed at everything—the sun, the heat, her stupid soft voice, and most of all, himself. Ten minutes later, he returned with two trays balanced in his hands and a toothpick between his teeth. He dropped the tray in front of her without a word and sat down beside her again, not quite close enough to touch.
Rosie blinked down at the food. Tempura—crispy and golden—and a giant funnel cake piled high with powdered sugar and fresh strawberries.
Her eyes lit up. “These are my favorite. How did you know?”
Katsuki paused mid-bite, then shrugged coolly as another lie slipped off his tongue. “It’s my favorite. You’re just lucky you’ve got decent taste.”
She smiled and looked at him over her drink. “Thanks.”
He grunted.
They ate in companionable silence, the food a temporary buffer against the tension. But Katsuki kept sneaking glances at her out of the corner of his eye—at the way she brushed powdered sugar from her lip, or how her eyes crinkled when she smiled.
He hated how familiar it felt.
Afterward, they regrouped with Eri and Kota, who were now on a mission to destroy every carnival game. The prize wall was calling, and Eri had a personal vendetta against the basketball toss.
Katsuki followed without protest, keeping a careful distance from Rosie but never far enough that he couldn’t step in if she needed him. He made it look casual, grumbling under his breath, hands stuffed in his pockets, but he never let her stray too far. Eventually, they stopped at a “Ring the Bell” strength game. Rosie laughed softly as Eri challenged Kota to do it, and he promptly failed, sending the mallet bouncing out of his hands.
Katsuki snorted. “Give me that.”
He stepped forward, cracked his neck once, and slammed the mallet down with ease. The bell rang loud and clear.
Rosie clapped, half impressed, half amused. “Show off.”
The carnie handed him a choice of prizes. Katsuki barely glanced before grabbing a plush of a smiling strawberry.
He walked over and held it out to her, eyes fixed on some invisible spot just above her head. “Here. You looked like you wanted one.”
Rosie blinked, surprised. Then her lips tugged into a slow, warm smile as she reached for the plush. “Thanks, Katsuki,” she said softly. “That’s really sweet of you.”
He made a face. “I’m not sweet.”
She laughed. “Sure you’re not.”
But she hugged the plush anyway, and he looked away quickly, grumbling something under his breath that sounded like “dumb carnival trash.”
As the afternoon sun turned golden, they walked along the boardwalk behind Eri and Kota, who were now sharing a bag of cotton candy and pretending not to hold hands.
Katsuki walked beside Rosie, not touching her, not speaking to her, but keeping pace with her step-for-step like he always had. He kept his eyes forward, jaw tight, pretending he didn’t notice when her shoulder brushed him or when she turned toward him every now and then with that curious look in her eyes.
She didn’t remember. She didn’t know and yet, here he was—grumpy, rude, distant—and still doing everything he could to take care of her. Because the truth of the matter was that he didn’t know how not to take care of this woman. The woman who held his heart unknowingly and oh so oblivious to it.
The sky had dipped into velvet, stars beginning to glint like silver dust overhead as the park lights flickered on—soft golden lanterns hanging from posts, string lights weaving overhead in arcs that bathed everything in a warm, romantic glow. The distant screams from the last few rollercoasters had mellowed into laughter and music, blending with the soft sounds of chatter and footsteps along the boardwalk.
Katsuki barely heard any of it. His focus had narrowed entirely onto the woman walking just a few steps ahead of him.
Rosie.
She had that stupid strawberry tucked under one arm, its lopsided eyes peeking out from beneath her elbow. She was humming some old pop song, probably one that Eri had made her listen to, and twirling a lock of hair absentmindedly as she walked. The breeze tugged gently at the hem of her thin hoodie, brushing it against her legs as she moved.
Katsuki’s jaw tightened as he watched her. Not because he was annoyed—but because she looked happy and peaceful. He hated how much he missed that version of her. The one who used to smile like that just for him. He could almost feel the warmth of her shoulder brushing his from earlier, the soft weight of her laugh, the ghost of that familiar pull in his chest whenever she looked at him with that maddening spark in her eyes.
Goddammit, he thought, eyes narrowing slightly. This would’ve been a perfect night.
And maybe—maybe—he would’ve said something. Let the truth slip past his teeth and fall out in something clumsy and honest. Maybe he would’ve asked her to meet him for dinner again, just the two of them. Maybe he would've told her he was the one who saved her because he couldn't imagine a world where she didn’t make it.
But of course. Fate was a bastard.
“Katsuki?” Rosie’s voice startled him from his thoughts—but it wasn’t just her voice. It was the tone. Confused. Cautious. A little… nervous?
He looked over just in time to see him approaching.
Hiroshi. The tall, smug-faced ice cream shop bastard with his hands in his pockets and that stupid casual smile like he had any right to look at her like that.
“Rosie,” Hiroshi said, his voice calm and friendly. “I didn’t know you were coming today. I’m here with some friends and saw you walking.”
Katsuki’s entire body stiffened.
Rosie blinked. “Oh! That’s—wow, small world. Yeah, I—um, I’m here with family.”
She glanced back at Katsuki, confused, but before she could finish, Eri came bolting out of nowhere, cotton candy in her hand. “Rosie!” she cried dramatically. “I need to talk to you right now. Like—girl emergency.”
Kota came jogging behind her, out of breath. “She wouldn’t wait—”
Rosie blinked. “Wha—Eri, I—okay?”
Before she could say anything more, Eri grabbed her wrist and dragged her off to the bathroom a few feet away all while she immediately began whispering something to her with great urgency and exaggerated hand motions.
Katsuki, meanwhile, turned to face Hiroshi, their eyes locked and the air between them shifted instantly Tense and cold, like the quiet right before an explosion.
Katsuki stepped forward just enough to be in Hiroshi’s space, his voice low and edged with warning. “You need to stay the hell away from her.”
Hiroshi’s smile faded as he met Katsuki’s glare, his posture calm but the glint in his eyes unmistakably sharp. “She can make her own decisions, don’t you think?” he said coolly, like he wasn’t standing in front of a lit fuse.
Katsuki’s jaw tightened. “I don’t trust you.”
Hiroshi lifted a brow, undeterred. “That’s your problem. Not hers.”
Katsuki took a breath through his nose, every muscle in his arms tightening beneath his sleeves. “I know her better than you ever will,” he ground out.
That earned a slow, mocking smile from Hiroshi. “And yet,” he said, letting the words roll off his tongue like poison, “she agreed to go on a date with me. Not you.”
Katsuki’s fists clenched so tight his knuckles cracked. His vision sharpened, narrowing down to the smug bastard in front of him. Every cell in his body screamed to react. To blow something up. To shut him up. Permanently. But he held back. Barely.
The only thing that moved was the step he took forward—measured, slow, until only a breath of space separated them. His voice dropped, low and vicious. “You have no idea what she’s been through,” he growled. “No clue what she needs. You think showing up with a nice shirt and a crooked smile means anything? You’re just a blip in her life. A placeholder.”
Hiroshi’s eyes glittered, and his smile widened, razor-thin. “You talk a lot about what she needs. Is that what this is? Guilt? Regret? Or is it just hard knowing you’re not the one she remembers waking up for?”
Katsuki’s chest heaved, his eyes narrowing. How the fuck did he know that? Who the fuck was this guy?
“She doesn’t need some try-hard wannabe pretending to care,” he snapped. “You’re not strong enough for her. You don’t know how to protect her. You’re not even close.”
“And you think you are?” Hiroshi scoffed, taking a slight step forward in return, unbothered by the fire radiating off the Pro Hero. “Because last time I checked, the only thing you’ve done is act like a territorial asshole and disappear the moment things got real. No wonder she doesn’t remember you.”
Katsuki’s breath caught. His jaw locked.
He could feel the heat building in his palms, his quirk rippling beneath his skin like magma begging to erupt. But still— he didn’t swing. Not yet. “You should really watch yourself, Dynamight, ” Hiroshi said, voice low, like he knew he was dancing with danger. “Yelling in a crowded public place? Picking fights with civilians?” He gave a mock pout. “Tsk. Wouldn’t want the Commission hearing about that. Hero or not, you're not untouchable.”
Katsuki’s teeth bared. “You think I give a shit about press reports right now?”
Hiroshi’s brows lifted. “Maybe not. But I’m sure your boss does.”
The tension between them snapped taut, seconds from breaking. Katsuki’s eyes blazed with fury, but he didn’t explode—not because he didn’t want to—but because just behind them, he could hear Eri’s voice and Rosie’s laughter floating closer.
It stabbed him in the gut.
He couldn’t lose it now.
He didn’t even look at Rosie as he took a stiff step back and muttered low, venomous, “You get one chance. One.”
Hiroshi tilted his head slightly, smug. “Good to know where I stand.”
Katsuki turned away, every step stiff with restraint as he rejoined the group. But his mind wasn’t with them anymore. It was stuck in the gnawing certainty that Hiroshi knew just enough to be dangerous. That he was the kind of guy Rosie wouldn’t see coming. And that if Katsuki didn’t keep his cool—he might just lose her for good.
Notes:
hmm...Hiroshi👀
hope you guys loved the chapter! I'll see you guys tomorrow!💖
Chapter 121: Rosie? On a date with the Great Dynamight? Yeah right.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie stood at the entrance of the haunted house, her feet glued to the pavement even as Eri squealed excitedly and tugged Koda ahead toward the line. She hated haunted houses. She hated everything about them—the dark, the jump scares, the stupid rubbery props that felt too real when they brushed against your ankle. And immersive attractions? No thank you. Who willingly paid to be traumatized?
“Uh…” she fidgeted, her fingers wringing together as she stared up at the blinking red lights above the entrance, each pulse counting down her will to live.
“Come on! We have to hurry!” Eri chirped, already dragging Koda by the hand like a girl on a mission.
“W-Wait—” Rosie started, but they were gone, swallowed by the crowd. And she was left standing awkwardly next to him. Katsuki. The grumpiest, growliest man alive.
He grunted, folding his arms and glaring at the general vicinity like it personally offended him. “We don’t have to go,” he muttered, voice low and rough. “I’m not exactly dying to walk through some budget-ass hellscape.”
She forced a small, shaky smile. “No, it’s… um, okay. Let’s go.”
Idiot. She could already feel her palms sweating. But the last thing she wanted was to be seen as a coward—especially by him. She moved toward the line, doing her best to hide the trembling in her hands, and even tried to distract herself by counting how many people had screamed on their way out. Five. No—six. One girl had actually cried. Great. Fantastic. She refused to be that girl.
As they neared the entrance, the chipper worker waved. “Two at a time, please!”
She turned toward Katsuki, forcing her face into something between brave and not about to scream, when something warm and heavy dropped onto her head with a soft thump. “…Huh?”
The scent of caramel and detergent hit her first—then the realization that it was a jacket. His jacket. She grabbed the fabric, moving it out of her eyes to blink up at him, stunned. Katsuki stood beside her, arms crossed, staring resolutely away like she didn’t exist. His jaw was tight, his brows drawn low over his eyes. He looked annoyed—more so than usual—but something about the faint pink dusting his ears gave her pause. “Just keep that over your head while we go through the haunted house,” he said, tone bored, as if it were no big deal.
“I don’t need this,” she protested gently, holding it out toward him, “thank you, but—”
“Just wear the damn thing,” he snapped, not unkindly, but definitely with his usual lack of patience. “You obviously don’t like haunted houses, and you’re only doing this ‘cause of the kids. So just wear the damn thing.”
She blinked at him.
And blinked again.
Was he… being sweet? In his own barky, emotionally repressed way?
“But… how will I see anything if this is covering my face?” she asked hesitantly, fingers twisting in the sleeve.
He finally glanced at her, and when their eyes met, she felt a strange flutter in her chest. “Just hold onto me the whole time.”
Her brain short-circuited for a moment. He held out his arm—strong, solid, thick with muscle beneath his black shirt, veins crisscrossing his forearm like molten lines of power. His hand flexed once, slow and deliberate.
Rosie swallowed hard, heart thudding. Her gaze dragged along the shape of his bicep. Why the hell is he so hot? No one had the right to be this attractive while being this aggravating. Grumpy, broody, stubborn—and still the first to offer her warmth when she was scared. He was a walking contradiction. Mean as hell, but behind all that sharpness, there was something… gentle . Something real.
Her thighs shifted slightly as she rubbed them together without even realizing it, trying to focus on not melting in public. God, why did his arm have to look like it could break a car in half? Carefully, shyly, she stepped closer and wrapped her hand around his bicep. Holy hell. She immediately regretted touching him—because now she couldn’t let go.
“Ready?” he asked, not looking at her.
She didn’t trust her voice, so she nodded. Then, quickly, she pulled the jacket over her head again, burying her face into the crook of his arm. It was warm and smelled like him—smoke, cedar, and that caramel-vanilla scent that always made her think of bakeries on stormy days.
Together, they stepped into the darkness of the haunted house, and though her face was hidden, Rosie couldn’t help the tiny, shy smile that tugged at her lips as she clung to him. Maybe haunted houses weren’t so bad after all. Rosie immediately regretted everything the moment the haunted house swallowed them into complete darkness. The sound of shrieks echoed from within, followed by creaking floorboards, mechanical growls, and the occasional hiss of compressed air. It was like every bad horror film she’d ever seen came alive around her—and decided she was the main character. And to make things worse? She was in heels.
The regret sank in fast and hard as she stumbled for the third time over what she hoped was a foam corpse and not an actual cast member. “Shit—sorry,” she muttered, clinging tighter to Katsuki’s arm.
He didn’t say anything, just kept walking forward with grim determination like he was storming the battlefield instead of navigating some two-story budget horror maze.
Rosie whimpered as something screeched to their left. “I hate this. I hate this so much.”
“You’re the one who said ‘let’s go,’” Katsuki grunted, not slowing down.
“Well, I thought I could handle it!” she snapped defensively from beneath his jacket hood. “Excuse me for trying to be brave—ack!”
She tripped over a dismembered mannequin leg, nearly twisting her ankle. Katsuki reached back instinctively, catching her around the waist and hauling her upright like she weighed nothing. Her face slammed against his arm, and she clung tighter.
“I hate this,” she whispered again, this time with raw sincerity.
“Then keep up, dumbass.”
She would’ve snapped back at him—she wanted to—but she could barely keep her balance. With every flickering light, sudden scream, and mechanical pop, she flinched, practically glued to him like static cling. Then it happened, a loud crash of chains, hissing of steam, and bursts of red strobe lighting. Something grazed her arm.
Rosie shrieked—and bolted . “NOPE, NOPE—”
But she didn’t get far. A hand snagged her wrist before she could fully launch herself into a wall or off a balcony, and the next thing she knew, she was slammed flush against his chest. The impact stole her breath. She clutched his shirt, heart thundering, wide-eyed beneath the jacket. Katsuki’s voice erupted above her head like a blast of gunfire. “Back the hell off!” he barked.
It was so loud, the nearest speakers crackled. Rosie peeked out from under the jacket, just barely, only to see a haunted house actor dressed like a butcher frozen a few feet away, hands raised defensively. “It was an accident, man—” the actor stammered.
“Keep your hands to yourself, or I’ll drag your ass to the parking lot and make it real scary,” Katsuki snarled, his voice full of gravel and fire.
Rosie, still pressed to his chest, blinked up at him—wide-eyed, blushing, and completely stunned. He was furious. Protective and absolutely terrifying in the dim red light. Her traitorous thoughts of how good he looked in red made her squeeze her thighs together. All she could think about was the heat of his chest against her cheek, the scent of his shirt, the way his heartbeat was pounding just as fast as hers. She said nothing—couldn’t say anything. Her cheeks were on fire, and she was so, so grateful he couldn’t see her face buried under the jacket. Because if he did, he’d know. He’d know she was blushing like a schoolgirl at prom, clinging to him like her life depended on it and dammit…maybe it kind of did.
The butcher-costumed actor, still flinching from Katsuki’s wrath, muttered a rushed apology and retreated into the shadows of the haunted house, clearly wanting no further part in this warpath.
Rosie stayed frozen. She was still wrapped up in Katsuki’s chest, jacket hood lopsided over her head, eyes wide and heart fluttering wildly like it was trying to launch out of her ribs. Her breath was shaky, her fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt. Slowly, cautiously, she tilted her head up to look at him.
He was already looking down at her. His face was tight with concern, not anger, and she caught the way his jaw flexed slightly before he suddenly raised one hand and cupped her cheek—large, calloused fingers curling around her face with such unexpected gentleness it almost made her knees buckle. “Are you okay?” he asked, voice low and firm, his thumb brushing along the curve of her cheekbone. “Did he hurt you?”
Her mouth opened, but nothing came out at first. God, why did he have to be like this? So gruff. So frustrating. So stupidly protective. And here he was again—looking at her like she mattered more than anything else in the damn world.
She swallowed the heat in her throat and shook her head. “I—I’m okay,” she said, voice soft and trembling. “Thanks to you.”
His thumb lingered a moment longer, brushing once more before he seemed to remember himself. He blinked, swallowed hard, then let go of her face with a quiet grunt. “Tch. We should catch up with the brats,” he muttered, already turning—but not without curling an arm firmly around her waist and tugging her along with him.
She squeaked softly, caught off guard by the move—but didn’t resist. Her hands instinctively found the edge of his shirt, fingers lightly gripping the back hem as she matched his pace. His grip on her waist was firm, steady. Protective. And her heart absolutely refused to behave itself.
They walked like that through the remainder of the haunted house—her pressed close, half-hiding behind him, and him bulldozing their way through every jump scare, every shriek, every shadowy figure that dared get too close. She couldn’t even tell what the rest of the maze looked like. All she could focus on was the warmth of him, the safety in his hold, the quiet but constant reminder that he was there.
They stepped out into the summer night air. Rosie gasped at the rush of warmth and relief, the lights of the amusement park glittering around them like stars. Her heels clicked on the wooden planks as she steadied herself again. Just ahead, Eri and Koda stood by a nearby cart, cotton candy in hand, chatting and laughing like they hadn’t just sprinted through a house of horrors. Eri was animatedly waving her stick of pink sugar, while Koda nodded with a small, amused smile.
Rosie pulled the jacket off her head and exhaled slowly, pushing hair out of her face as she looked up at Katsuki beside her. His hand was still on her waist. She didn’t say anything. Neither did he, but their eyes met again, and for a moment, the haunted house, the lights, the world—everything else faded. It was just them.
Her with flushed cheeks and trembling lashes, and him with a storm in his eyes he didn’t know how to name. Whatever it was between them, whatever they were standing on the edge of—it was dangerous and scarily it kind of felt familiar but not.
“Um, thank you… for the jacket,” Rosie said quietly, her fingers curling gently around the fabric as she held it out to him. She offered a faint, almost shy smile. “You were very kind.”
Katsuki took it from her hand without looking her in the eye, jaw tightening like he didn’t know what to do with the word kind. “Yeah. Whatever,” he muttered, brushing the jacket over his shoulder with practiced indifference.
Before the moment could stretch any longer, he turned toward the kids. “C’mon, brats,” he called, voice louder now as he strode toward them. “Time to go!”
Eri perked up, her cotton candy stick still in hand, and waved goodbye to Koda with a dramatic flourish. “Thanks for today, Koda!”
“Yeah, it was fun,” Koda replied, smiling like he hadn’t just spent the day being dragged on every nauseating ride known to mankind.
Rosie followed behind Katsuki, still holding the strawberry plushie he’d won her, and felt warmth linger in her chest. Not just from the haunted house—though she could still feel where his hand had been on her waist—but from how this whole day turned out. Strange. Awkward. Unexpected. But also… nice.
They all headed toward the exit gates of the park, walking under the string lights that lined the path to the parking lot. The warm summer night buzzed with the faint sound of carnival music still drifting from the main plaza. Rosie took a deep breath, relishing the cool air on her skin after the adrenaline-fueled maze of terror. As they reached the parking lot and stopped near Katsuki’s car, a sudden, embarrassingly loud growl echoed through the stillness. Rosie blinked. Then looked to her left where Eri stood blinking as well, holding her stomach.
“Was that you or me?” Rosie asked.
“I think both of us…” Eri said sheepishly.
“Ugh,” Rosie groaned, resting her hand on her stomach.
Another growl sounded—this time from behind them. “I’m hungry too,” Koda muttered.
Katsuki turned, arms crossed over his chest, and narrowed his eyes at the lot of them like they were a pack of feral alley cats demanding snacks. “Of course you are,” he muttered. “You’ve been living on cotton candy and air.”
Rosie turned toward Eri. “Wanna get takeout on the way home?”
“Yes!” Eri beamed, bouncing on her heels.
“I want food too,” Koda added quickly.
Katsuki sighed, long and deep, dragging a hand down his face like this was the greatest inconvenience known to mankind. “Fine,” he grumbled. “We’ll stop and get food.”
Rosie blinked. “Wait—you don’t have to do that.”
“I’m getting food anyway,” he said shortly, already walking toward the car. “So it makes sense.”
Her lips parted in surprise, but she nodded, quickening her steps to catch up with him. “Right. That makes sense. Thanks.”
When they reached his car, she expected him to open his door and get in, but instead, he turned and—without looking at her—opened the passenger side for her. She blinked again. Her cheeks warmed. “…Thanks.” She climbed in, settling the plush strawberry in her lap like it was a pillow, clutching it gently as he shut the door behind her.
Katsuki slid into the driver’s seat a moment later, grunting as he started the engine, and Eri and Kota piled into the backseat, immediately launching into a conversation like they hadn’t just spent the whole day together.
“Did you bring the demo we recorded?” Eri asked excitedly.
“Yeah,” Koda said, digging in his pocket. “I downloaded it to my phone.”
“Okay! On the way back, let’s listen to it and rate each part. I think I nailed the bridge, honestly.”
“You messed up the bridge,” he said flatly.
“I did not!”
“You did.”
Rosie smiled faintly, watching them through the rearview mirror as they bickered like old bandmates. Her head rested lightly against the window, and her hand still clutched the little strawberry plush, fingers idly brushing over its stitched-on smile.
The car hummed softly beneath her. The windows down, the warm summer air drifting in. And next to her—Katsuki, quiet, one hand on the wheel and the other resting over the gearshift.
She dared a sideways glance, his eyes were on the road. But his expression wasn’t cold. Not tonight. Tonight, there was something else there. Something gentler and for the first time in weeks, Rosie let herself feel a little bit of peace.
The car rolled to a stop in front of a cozy little outdoor restaurant nestled on the corner of a quiet street, lit up with string lights and humming with late-night chatter. The patio was dotted with rustic wooden tables and wrought-iron chairs, the smell of grilled meat and fries thick in the warm air. As soon as they parked, Eri and Kota were out of the car like lightning, already giggling about something one of them had said. Rosie stepped out a bit slower, still cradling the plush strawberry in her arms.
“C’mon, brat,” Katsuki muttered to Koda, jerking his head toward the counter. “We’ll order.”
The boys disappeared toward the front register, leaving Rosie and Eri to grab a shaded table beneath the string lights. Rosie sat down, the ambient warmth of the summer night wrapping around her like a blanket, her eyes trailing after Katsuki without even meaning to. He looked relaxed—but still intimidating. One hand jammed into his pocket, the other gesturing as he spoke to the cashier. He didn’t have to be so good at everything, and yet somehow, he still managed to make ordering food look like some power move. Koda stood beside him, nodding with what looked like practiced confidence as he ordered something, presumably for Eri. The thought made Rosie smile. They really had been on a date…And so had she.
She blinked. Wait what?
"Are you having fun?" Eri asked from across the table
"What do you mean?" Rosie frowned, "I'm just chaperoning because Dad insisted."
Eri nodded, "yes, but you've been smiling a lot today."
"I love the amusement park that's why," Rosie blinked confused.
Before Eri could say anything, Katsuki returned sliding a tall number stand into the center of the table. “Food’ll be out soon.”
Rosie glanced at him. “What’d you order me?”
He didn’t look at her. “Double meat bacon cheeseburger. Mayo. No veg. Fries. Chocolate milkshake.”
She blinked.
Her mouth opened slightly. “That’s… exactly what I usually get.”
He shrugged, still not making eye contact. “Guessed.”
“You guessed all of that?”
“Tch.” He scowled at the table like it personally offended him. “Don’t make a big deal about it.”
Rosie’s heart stuttered in her chest. That wasn’t a guess. That was muscle memory. She opened her mouth to say something—anything—but before she could speak, Eri leaned forward across the table, eyes sparkling, smile wide.
“Okay, okay, important question!” she declared, clearly having been waiting to ask this. “What was your favorite ride today?”
Koda perked up. “The drop tower was sick.”
“That thing nearly killed me,” Rosie groaned dramatically, forgetting her previous question entirely as she leaned back in her chair. “I think I blacked out for like three seconds.”
“You did scream like a banshee,” Eri said between giggles.
“I screamed artistically.”
Katsuki snorted. “You screamed like you were being murdered.”
“You’re one to talk,” Rosie snapped back, eyes narrowing playfully. “You cursed out the animatronic dragon.”
“It jumped at me.”
“It’s attached to a rail, Katsuki!”
Eri was cackling now, almost doubled over. “Okay, okay, but I liked the haunted house.”
“Liar,” Rosie grinned, pointing at her. “You screamed louder than I did.”
“Did not!”
“You threw Koda at the scary clown!”
Kota coughed. “She did. But I recovered.”
Katsuki leaned back with a small huff of amusement, arms crossed. “You’re all idiots.”
Rosie rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t fight the smile tugging at her lips. As the conversation flowed, all four of them laughed and debated over the best and worst rides, their voices blending into the hum of other diners around them. But every so often, Rosie’s eyes drifted to the boy beside her. The one who knew her order without asking. The one who pulled her through the haunted house. The one who had given her his jacket like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And for the first time all evening, the thought hit her like a soft punch to the chest: This didn’t feel like chaperoning.
It felt like a date. A real one. Even if he’d never admit it. Did she want this to be a date? She snorted. Rosie? On a date with the Great Dynamight? Yeah right.
Notes:
omg Ao3 took forever to come back on I honestly thought I wasn’t going to be able to update the new chapter for you guys🥹
anyway hope you guys enjoy their chapter! lemme know your thoughts as usual💖 see you tomorrow🤭
I will also be slowly responding to comments🙂↕️
Chapter 122: See if he’s… like… a stalker or a serial dater or something gross.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie hummed quietly to herself as she scrolled through the photos Eri had taken throughout the day at the amusement park. Her finger paused on one in particular—a candid shot of Eri and Kota grinning near the ferris wheel, Eri’s hand flashing a peace sign, cotton candy in her other hand. But Rosie’s eyes drifted to the background.
She and Katsuki stood several feet apart behind them, neither of them looking at each other. His arms were crossed, his expression its usual scowl, while she stood next to him awkwardly, her body turned slightly in his direction as if she were caught between wanting to say something and holding back.
Rosie frowned, her eyes narrowing as she zoomed in. “Why… why does he still look so stupidly handsome even when he looks like he wants to punch the air?”
Grumbling under her breath, she set the phone down and stood up from the couch. Her room was dimly lit, the laundry basket on her bed glaring at her like an overdue chore. She got to work quickly, folding and putting away clothes with half her mind still back at the amusement park.
Once she finished, she crawled into bed, sighing loudly as she hugged her pillow. She rolled onto her side, then her back, then her stomach, and finally groaned aloud into the fabric.
What is wrong with me?
Her eyes wandered to the plush strawberry sitting near her pillow—the one Katsuki had won for her. Her heart did an odd little squeeze, her lips twitching into a smile. Then she frowned again. “Nope. Nope nope nope.”
She threw off the blankets and slid out of bed, walking over to grab the plushie and hug it to her chest before pressing her cheek to it. The dumb thing still smelled faintly like funnel cake and Katsuki.
Scowling, she marched over to the edge of the bed and pushed it underneath… only for her fingers to brush against something else. Curious, she reached under and pulled out a smaller plushie.
A cute, blonde Pomchi with a perpetually grumpy face and a black-and-orange collar.
She blinked, “…what the—?”
It reminded her so much of Katsuki, it was disturbing. Even the way its little eyebrows were furrowed like it was about to blow up a chew toy. She laughed softly to herself, but the sound died off quickly as her chest tightened. She stared at it for a long moment… then wordlessly set it on her bed beside the strawberry and walked out into the living room.
Eri was sitting cross-legged on the rug, several bottles of glittery nail polish splayed out in front of her. She looked up with a wide grin. “Want your nails done?”
Rosie chuckled and sat across from her. “Actually… will you paint mine ?”
“Duh.” Eri uncapped a sparkly lilac shade and patted Rosie’s hands. “Gimme.”
Rosie let her take her fingers, the familiar scent of polish filling the air between them. For a while, there was only the sound of Eri humming softly as she brushed color over her nails. “Did you have fun yesterday?” Eri asked, not looking up.
Rosie smiled. “Yeah. I did.”
Eri nodded like she was satisfied. “Good.”
“What about you?” Rosie asked. “Was it a good first date?”
Eri stiffened, her grip on the brush faltering for half a second. “It wasn’t a date.”
Rosie arched a brow. “Uh-huh. You held hands on the tilt-a-whirl.”
“He doesn’t like me like that,” Eri said quickly, eyes narrowing at Rosie’s teasing tone.
“Eri.” Rosie leaned forward slightly. “He does. Trust me. The way he looks at you? You’re his whole amusement park.”
Eri’s cheeks flushed cherry red. “Nooope—new topic!” she exclaimed, flailing the nail polish brush. “We are not talking about me. Are you going out later?”
Rosie blinked at the sudden shift. “Yeah, I have a shift tonight.”
“Night shift?” Eri asked, starting to paint Rosie’s other hand.
“Mmhmm. Just a few hours. Should be quiet.”
Eri nodded like she approved of that answer, tongue poking out slightly in concentration as she applied the last stroke.
Once the polish dried enough, Rosie blew gently on her fingertips before rising to her feet. “Thanks, bug,” she said warmly, ruffling Eri’s hair before heading back to her room.
She grabbed her jacket and work bag, sparing one last glance at the plushies on her bed before slinging the strap over her shoulder and stepping out into the hallway.
“Don’t stay up too late,” she called out.
Eri waved from the couch. “I won’t! Tell your co-workers I said hi!”
Rosie smiled to herself.
Even as she stepped out into the evening air, her thoughts trailed back to the day, to cotton candy laughter, to grumpy blonde bikers, haunted houses, and burgers that were a little too accurate.
What’s wrong with me? she wondered again.
Eri sat on the couch, the soft flicker of the TV lighting up her face as some romcom played idly in the background. She wasn’t watching it. Not really. Not when her thoughts were spinning like one of the teacup rides from earlier.
She glanced at the clock.
Rosie had left fifteen minutes ago.
Good.
The moment of truth had arrived.
Eri snatched her phone from the coffee table and scrolled quickly to Kota’s name in her contacts. She hit call and brought the phone to her ear, pacing in front of the coffee table with nervous energy.
The line picked up after two rings.
“Yo,” Kota’s voice was casual… almost too casual.
“Hi,” Eri said, trying not to sound like she was about to scheme. “Are you busy?”
“Not really. I was just… uh… cleaning my guitar.” He coughed like he regretted saying that out loud.
Eri smiled but rolled her eyes. “Okay, good. I need your help.”
There was a beat of silence.
“…With what?”
She turned off the TV with a snap of the remote and sat on the edge of the couch, voice lowering like she was planning a heist. “We need to come up with a way to get rid of this new guy Rosie’s been seeing.”
Kota blinked on his end. “…You mean the ice cream guy?”
“Yes. Hiroshi. The suspiciously charming ice cream guy,” she said with suspicion dripping from every syllable.
Another beat.
“Alright,” he said finally. “I’m in.”
Eri blinked, surprised. “Wait, really?”
“Of course I’ll help you,” he said quickly, then immediately fumbled, “I-I mean it’s your sister so it makes sense you care and, uh, we don’t want her dating someone sketchy or… whatever—”
Eri smiled, her cheeks pinking slightly. “Thanks, Kota.”
She could almost hear him flustered through the phone, fumbling again. “Y-Yeah. No problem. Obviously.”
It was cute, and Eri had to resist teasing him for it.
“So… what do we do?” he asked.
“I overheard Rosie and Hiroshi talking earlier,” she said, sitting cross-legged now with her scheming voice fully activated. “He said he’d be at Silven’s later. But Rosie’s on her way to work right now at Ignis Inferno. So I figured…”
“We spy on him?” Kota offered.
“Yes!” she said, too quickly and too gleefully. “I was thinking we could meet at Silven’s. See if he’s… like… a stalker or a serial dater or something gross.”
Kota paused, thinking. “You sure you don’t just hate him ‘cause he’s dating your sister?”
Eri stiffened.
She had pinky promised Rosie that she would keep her secret relationship with Katsuki a secret. Even if she forgot, Eri would keep it and she would get Rosie to fall back in love with Katsuki. Even if Akira insisted that they keep Katsuki and Rosie separated until she remembers on her own. So she would just have to take matters into her own hands in getting Rosie and Katsuki together.
She lied through her teeth, “It’s not hate. It’s protective sibling instincts. I just… don’t trust his face.”
“…You don’t trust his face ?”
“Exactly.”
Kota sighed, but he was smiling. “Alright, fine. I’ll meet you there. But if he turns out to be totally normal, you owe me a big cone.”
“With toppings,” Eri agreed.
“Deal.”
She hung up and pumped her fist in the air, whispering under her breath, “Operation Ice Cream Interrogation: activated.”
Silven’s second floor pulsed with neon lights and the sounds of laughter, arcade machines buzzing, and coins clinking into slots. The place was packed for a Sunday night, mostly with college-aged students and twenty-somethings blowing off steam. The scent of buttered popcorn, pizza, and soda filled the air.
Eri stood near the skee ball machines, holding a long strip of tickets with a victorious glint in her eyes.
“I told you I was good at this,” she said proudly, flicking the edge of the ticket roll.
Kota, beside her, was squinting at the game as if it had personally betrayed him. “It’s rigged. I totally got the fifty-pointer. The machine’s just old.”
“Uh-huh.” Eri smirked. “Blame the machine, not the aim.”
He muttered something unintelligible but still handed her a plastic-wrapped prize from the token counter: a small keychain shaped like a pink teddy bear. She clipped it onto her bag with a soft smile.
They wandered through the arcade, trying a claw machine, then one of the co-op zombie shooter games. Kota got way too into it, yelling out reload commands while Eri kept laughing and accidentally shooting walls. It was fun, easy—like a regular night between two kids trying too hard not to call this a date. Eri froze mid-step just outside the rhythm game section. She’d caught it in the corner of her eye: a familiar figure with messy white hair and a smug, easy smile. Hiroshi. Laughing. Drinking from a glass while sitting at a booth near the rail that overlooked the bar below.
He wasn’t alone.
A group of guys—maybe five or six of them—sat around the table, talking loudly, clinking glasses together in a toast. One of them playfully elbowed Hiroshi, who responded with a laugh that carried across the room. His jacket was slung carelessly over the back of his chair, his sleeves rolled up, and he looked as comfortable as someone who frequents this place.
Eri’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t look like someone who was all that hung up on Rosie. “…Kota,” she whispered.
“Yeah?”
She pulled her phone out quickly and snapped a few photos. One. Two. Three. Each one caught Hiroshi mid-laugh, surrounded by his loud, rowdy group.
“What are you doing?” Kota whispered, now watching her instead of the arcade lights.
“Documenting,” she said, voice sharp. “This is evidence.”
“Evidence of what?”
“I don’t know yet,” she admitted, “but he gives me a bad feeling. And now I know why.”
Kota peered over her shoulder at the photo. “That’s not a crime, y’know. Having friends, drinking and laughing.”
“He’s not acting like someone who likes my sister,” she replied flatly, lowering her phone. “Not after how that date went. Not when she’s still clearly shaken and confused.”
She turned her back to Hiroshi and gently tugged on Kota’s sleeve. “Come on. Let’s stay nearby. I want to see what else he does.”
Kota followed, a little unsure but fully on board, adjusting his hoodie as they made their way toward the nearby racing games—close enough to keep Hiroshi in their peripheral vision, but far enough to stay hidden among the crowd.
“You're really going all in, huh,” Kota mumbled.
“I said I’d protect her,” Eri said simply. “And I meant it.”
Kota smiled to himself, cheeks warm. Damn, he thought. She’s terrifying… and amazing.
The backstage dressing room of Ignis Inferno was a warm blur of glowing vanity lights, perfume haze, and the subtle buzz of pre-show nerves. Makeup brushes clinked against mirrored trays, hairspray filled the air in short bursts, and feathers—red, gold, and blush pink—spilled from costume racks like cascading fire.
Rosie sat at her vanity, absently curling a strand of her pastel rose hair, her gaze distant in the mirror. She looked flawless: smoky winged eyeliner, shimmer dusting the apples of her cheeks, pink lipstick with a glossy sheen—but her eyes looked heavier than usual. As though she were dragging the weight of a thousand yawns beneath her lashes.
“You look exhausted,” Varsas said, peering over with concern as she adjusted her bra strap. She sat at the next vanity, her caramel-toned skin glowing under the warm bulbs. “Are you okay?”
Rosie blinked, snapping out of her daze with a soft smile. “Yeah, just sleepy all of a sudden.”
Varsas gave her a knowing look, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Did you take something?”
“No! No,” Rosie quickly reassured, holding up her now-empty iced coffee cup. “If anything, I went out of my way to grab caffeine before my shift. This was supposed to be my fuel.”
She shook the plastic cup, the leftover ice clinking with pathetic weakness, like the last breath of her energy reserve.
Varsas sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Maybe you just need actual sleep. Like, old-fashioned, under-a-blanket, in-the-dark, no-texting sleep.”
“You’re probably right.” Rosie exhaled and set the cup aside. “It’s just… I have my little sister and my best friend staying over, so the apartment’s been a little loud and chaotic lately.”
Varsas grinned. “Ah, sibling chaos. That’ll do it.”
She stood up, still in her red lace corset and matching garters, and gave herself a final once-over in the mirror before grabbing the gold body glitter from her vanity. She spritzed it generously over her arms, collarbones, and thighs, shimmering like a phoenix reborn in glitter and highlighter.
“Seriously,” she added as she capped the spray. “You need a sleep aid or something. Knock yourself out and don’t wake up until your dreams get bored.”
Rosie chuckled as she slipped on her soft blush-pink heels, her legs smooth and shimmering with silver glitter. She adjusted the straps of her sheer, rhinestone-studded robe that hung loosely over her satin corset, matching her silver-and-pink feather fan that sat propped against her vanity chair. “I might take you up on that,” she said, misting her own skin with silver spray until she looked like moonlight incarnate.
Just then, the door swung open with a gust of perfume and sass.
Haruhi entered first, a burst of sunshine in her canary-yellow corset and fringed skirt, her thigh-high stockings catching the light. “Ladies!” she beamed, placing a hand on her hip. “Ready to set the stage on fire?”
Yun trailed in after her, a vision in emerald green with a slit up her side and glitter heels to match. She was smoothing down her perfectly curled hair, her expression calm but excited.
Varsas gave a cheeky wink. “Always.”
The dressing room erupted in a flurry of movement—last-minute touch-ups, playful teasing, and nervous stretching. Haruhi practiced a sultry wink in the mirror while Yun fluffed her boa. Rosie took a steadying breath and reached for her fan, twirling it through her fingers.
The music in the club shifted—bass pulsing low, a signal that the house lights would dim soon. They were fire. They were beauty. They were a damn storm wrapped in sequins and sweat and even though Rosie’s body ached for sleep, her heart fluttered with that electric anticipation she always felt before she walked on stage.
“Let’s make ‘em forget the outside world,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone.
Varsas grinned and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Honey, after tonight? They’ll be dreaming about us for weeks as usual.”
Rosie tugged her oversized sweatshirt down over her shorts, yawning as she slung her bag over her shoulder. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun, stray strands clinging to her damp neck from hours of dancing under stage lights and glitter. Her cheeks were still a little flushed, makeup worn down to the faintest shimmer on her lids. The t-shirt she wore was a faded one with a sleepy cartoon cloud on the front—hardly glam, but perfect for post-show exhaustion.
The thud of bass from the club floor still echoed faintly behind her as she pushed through the heavy back door into the cool, quiet night. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, blinking against the screen’s brightness.
HIROSHI: hey, u wanna do something tomorrow after my shift?
Her fingers hovered. She hesitated for a moment, the scent of beer and perfume still clinging to her skin.
ROSIE: that would be great :)
The reply was instant.
HIROSHI: sweet. I’ll text you the time. night 🌙
She slipped the phone back into her pocket just as a familiar figure leaned against the wall near the end of the underground tunnel, arms crossed, half in shadow.
Shoto.
Still in full hero gear—navy tactical suit streaked with ash and faint scuff marks—he looked oddly serene under the faint glow of a flickering streetlamp. The red-and-white strands of his hair moved slightly in the breeze, his gaze focused on her.
“You’re here,” Rosie said, her voice warm and soft with sleep. “Thank you, as always.”
He stepped forward, taking her bag from her shoulder without a word. It was routine by now—he never let her carry her bag this late at night.
“Let’s get you home,” he said, quiet but kind.
They began walking through the underground tunnel passing the glowing signs of karaoke bars, izakayas closing their doors, bouncers yawning and locking up, and late-night noodle stalls sweeping up.
Rosie glanced sideways at him. “How was work?”
Shoto adjusted the strap of her bag and gave a tired shrug. “The usual. Patrol through districts nine and eleven.”
“Any excitement?”
He let out a low breath, his eyes scanning the sidewalk ahead. “Nothing major. A couple of purse snatchers. One rooftop fire in an abandoned apartment block. Just… people trying to hold on to power that isn’t there anymore.”
Her brow furrowed. “Has crime gone down since the war ended?”
“Yes and no,” Shoto said. “Street-level stuff has. But… the real danger is still stirring.” He glanced at her. “They’ve been trying to regroup. The ones who used to follow the League.”
Rosie’s steps slowed just slightly. “Seriously?”
He nodded. “They keep trying to revive it. Desperate wannabe villains. No real direction. They fail, mostly. Without someone like Shigaraki or All for One leading them… they’re just noise.”
“But still dangerous,” she murmured.
“Yeah.” His voice was quiet but firm. “Still dangerous.”
They reached the crosswalk just as the light flicked to red, the two of them standing side by side under the city’s soft neon glow. Rosie looked over at him, his expression unreadable, calm, but something tense resting just behind his eyes. “You’re always out here, looking after me,” she said softly. “Thank you, Shoto.”
He turned toward her, lips twitching into a faint smile. “You’d do the same for me.”
The walk signal blinked, and they stepped off the curb into the hush of the early morning, just as the city began to exhale.
Notes:
hope you enjoy the chapter! see you guys in the next one! also lemme know your thoughts!💖
Chapter 123: I will not ugly‑cry—well, maybe a little—
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The new Commission offices felt wrong to Katsuki from the moment he walked in—too many glass walls, too much tasteful wood paneling, not enough cracked plaster or scorched marks from training accidents. Hawks had redecorated the place the way he fought: all smooth surfaces hiding razor edges.
Katsuki didn’t bother sitting. He planted his boots in front of the mahogany desk, arms folded so tightly across his chest the leather of his jacket creaked. “What do you want, birdbrain?”
Hawks had traded in his usual uniform for a suit and tie as he leaned forward on his elbows. The easy grin he’d once worn on every billboard was long gone; only the ghost of it twitched at the corner of his mouth.
“How long are you going to stay mad?” he asked.
“How long would you stay mad,” Katsuki shot back, “if you were forced to break the heart of the only woman you love only for her to forget every second with her not long after?”
Hawks dragged his tongue across his front teeth, exhaled once, and conceded with a nod. “Touché.”
“Spare me the therapy session. Why’d you call?”
“It’s about Kyoma.”
“He’s dead.” Katsuki’s voice was stone.
“I know.” Hawks swiveled his monitor around to face him, a black screen with a pause button in the center.. “But the monsters you kill sometimes leave footprints.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“After you pulled Rosie out,” Hawks explained, “my people swept every one of his properties. We catalogued bodies, weapons, hard drives—everything. Most files hit the chain of evidence… except this one. It was mislabeled and ended up stuck in a precinct locker until a rookie finally flagged it last night.”
The screen flickered to life, washing the office in a bluish glow that made every shadow crawl. Katsuki braced his hands on Hawks’s desk, knuckles whitening, jaw set so hard it felt like his molars would crack.
Rosie appeared, bound to a splintered wooden chair in the center of a bare concrete cell. Even grainy camera light couldn’t disguise how far she’d fallen from the bright‑eyed woman he remembered: skin gone chalk‑pale, cheeks hollow, collarbones sharp as blades under bruised flesh. Strands of matted pink hair hung in filthy ropes over her face.
“Wakey wakey,” Kyoma’s voice echoed through the speakers
Kyoma’s bucket of ice water hit her like a gunshot. Rosie convulsed, breath sputtering, ribs fluttering under torn leather scraps.
A nausea Katsuki hadn’t felt since his first combat rescue crawled up his throat. He forced it down and stared, refusing to blink.
“What do you want now?” She rasped, still keeping her head down
“Just wanted to see how my toy is faring,” he stepped into view of the camera, leather gloves and a large hunting knife in his hand. “Thought it would nice to play with you today after ignoring you most of yesterday.”
Her voice—weak, raw, barely a rasp—echoed through the tinny speakers: “Why not just kill me already?” Flat. Empty. Like the spark he loved had been carved out of her.
“What do you mean?”
“Why go to all the trouble of stalking me? Breaking into my apartment, stealing my things and setting up cameras in my place?”
Kyoma frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. “What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” she finally raised her gaze to him then flickered away to the camera.
“I haven’t done any of those things.” He said with disdain, “why would I do that? I’m a billionaire who murders people, I’m not some common thief. Honestly you’re more foolish than I thought. What would I have to gain from stealing your things and putting cameras in your apartment like some peeping tom?”
Rosie’s face slowly turned to look at him, “so you’re saying that someone else was stalking me?”
“Afraid so, as I didn’t do any of those things.” Kyoma then shrugged, “doesn’t matter, I have you now and if they come sniffing around then I will take care of them myself. Consider my gift to you.”
Katsuki watched as Kyoma approached her, grasping her chin as she stared at him with detachment. His vision tunneled—her bruised jaw, the way her shoulders trembled, how she tried to cover fear with sarcasm even here. Kyoma cooed, “my don’t you look already broken.”
Rosie barely flinched, but the resignation in her next words sliced Katsuki open. “Katsuki doesn’t love me anymore. There’s no use in living.”
The room spun. For a heartbeat he thought he might actually throw up. Instead, he tightened his grip on the desk until the lacquer creaked. Hawks hit pause. Silence crashed in, thick and suffocating.
“Why’d you stop it?” Katsuki’s voice rasped, rougher than he intended.
“Because the next two hours are nothing but pain,” Hawks said quietly. “And there’s another hundred like it—Erasurehead, Rosie, others. I don’t need you carrying all that rot in your head when we’ve got work to do.”
Katsuki swallowed hard, eyes still locked on the frozen image of Rosie’s slumped form. “Her stalker. Alive?”
“Almost certainly,” Hawks said. “Kyoma’s circus drew every spotlight in Tokyo. The daughter of a Pro Hero, a war veteran, and a U.A Alumni is announced dead, then alive and kidnapped for nearly a week and then rescued by several other pro hero’s and war veterans. Too much attention for the stalker’s liking, so my theory is he is laying low until all of it dies down.”
Katsuki straightened, shoulders squaring, rage cooling into lethal focus. “How do we smoke him out?”
“That’s why you’re here.” Hawks slid a sealed drive across the desk. “Off‑books. You alone. No Commission leash—just my authority and every resource you need. Find him before he decides Rosie’s unprotected again… and before he graduates from cameras to corpses.”
Katsuki slipped the drive into his jacket, eyes hard as flint. “I’ll find him.”
“And when you do?”
“Make it look like a fucking accident.”
Katsuki grumbled under his breath as he shoved open the door to his house, a warm gust of July air trailing in behind him. In one hand, he carried a greasy pizza box—extra meat, double cheese—and in the other, a crinkling bag of premium cat food that proudly declared itself “gourmet, with real chicken.” His keys clinked noisily as he dropped them into the dish by the door with muscle memory alone, toeing off his boots before heading deeper into the quiet space.
The apartment smelled faintly of cedarwood and detergent, lived-in but tidy, save for the usual scatter of papers on the coffee table and the small mountain of unopened cardboard boxes stacked near the far wall.
“Oi,” he muttered, pushing the pizza box down onto the coffee table and crouching to open the cat food bag. “Lady, you freeloading gremlin. Get your spoiled ass over here.”
As if summoned by magic, a sleek black blur darted from under the couch. Lady, his moody feline freeloader, trotted over with her tail flicking high in the air. She gave a demanding meow, rubbing against his leg before hopping lightly onto the arm of the couch, green eyes locked onto the pizza box like she knew she wasn’t supposed to touch it but was still going to try.
“Relax,” Katsuki snorted as he poured her food into a small ceramic dish shaped like a heart, “this is mine. You’ve got your fancy chicken kibble now, don’t start beggin’.”
He sank into the couch with a grunt, pizza box in his lap and remote in one hand. Lady, ignoring her food entirely, slinked across the cushions to curl up beside him. She nestled against his side, purring as she headbutted his elbow until he caved and began absentmindedly scratching behind her ears.
“I’m gonna be around more, y’know,” he said quietly, talking into the silence like he’d done a hundred times before. Lady chirped in response, flicking her tail once against his thigh. “Got a new assignment. It’s off the books. Has to do with your mom.”
Lady’s ears perked up, as if she understood the weight behind those words. Katsuki stared forward at nothing in particular, his expression unreadable as he chewed a bite of pizza.
“I don’t know what the hell kind of sick bastard would do what he did,” he muttered. “But I’m gonna find him. I owe her that much.”
Lady meowed again, louder this time, pawing at his wrist.
“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed, rubbing her soft fur before his gaze slowly drifted across the room.
The boxes Hawks had sent stood stacked like silent sentinels by the far wall. Thick tape, bold Commission stamps, and scribbled marker notes warned classified contents and for DYNAMIGHT only . Whatever was inside wasn’t light. One of them was half-ripped open from where he’d peeked earlier—photographs, surveillance files, reports… stacks of it.
Katsuki exhaled slowly and set the pizza aside. He stood, rolling his shoulders as he walked across the room. He rested a hand on the top box, jaw tight. “Gonna be a long night,” he muttered to himself.
Lady meowed again behind him, already back in her dish, crunching away contentedly. Katsuki crouched and tore the lid fully open. And with the flick of the desk lamp and the quiet hum of his determination settling over the room, he began.
His living room looked like a war zone—papers and photos scattered across the floor and coffee table, half-eaten slices of cold pizza left forgotten in the box, and a collection of empty coffee cups forming a metallic graveyard on his coffee table. The air inside was warm, still carrying the faint scent of adrenaline, sleep deprivation, and frustration.
The sun had barely risen when he blinked awake on the couch, his back protesting from sleeping in a twisted heap. He sat up slowly, the soft hum of traffic down below seeping through the cracked window. His bare chest rose and fell with a sigh as he ran a hand through his unruly hair. Shadows lingered under his eyes, his face drawn with exhaustion. He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced around the room, frowning at the chaos. “Shit…” he muttered under his breath, not bothering to clean any of it.
Instead, he shoved himself to his feet, muscles flexing as he stretched, the waistband of his black sweats dipping low across his hips. The heat from the floor under his bare feet didn’t help wake him up any more than the pit of dread still curling in his gut.
“Supposed to meet the nerds this morning…” he mumbled, half to himself, half to the sleepy cat now sprawled across the back of the couch, blinking at him with judgmental golden eyes.
He tugged on a worn gray t-shirt with the word “BLAST” faded across the chest, yanking it over his head as he headed toward the door, snatching his keys from the hook by instinct. His motorcycle helmet hung on the wall beside his jacket, but he ignored both for now. He just needed coffee before dealing with anything—or anyone.
The cool keychain clinked against his palm as he stepped into his boots, not even tying them properly. His mind was still half-caught in the case files from the night before, his jaw tightening every time Rosie’s bloodied face flashed behind his eyes. He shook it off and stepped out of the apartment, locking the door behind him.
“Coffee first,” he muttered again, shoving the keys into his pocket and heading down the hall toward his parked bike. “Then gym. Then I’ll go back to hunting that bastard down.”
The clang of a final barbell drop echoed through the cavernous gym as Katsuki racked his weights and wiped sweat from his forehead with the hem of his worn gray tee. A thin sheen glistened over his shoulders, veins still raised from the last brutal set. Beside him, Izuku Midoriya was scribbling post‑workout stats into a notebook with the same manic focus he used to analyze villains, while Shoto Todoroki stretched his triceps, half his hair clinging damply to the stripes of his bicolor jawline.
“Leg day complete,” Izuku announced, snapping the notebook shut with a satisfied grin. “I think that’s a PR for you, Shoto.”
Shoto nodded, calm as always. “Felt decent.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Quit flirting over numbers, nerds. I need carbs.”
Ten minutes later they were outside, warm air rolling off sun‑cooked pavement. Izuku adjusted the strap of his gym bag, green curls sticking to his forehead. “So—lunch? Something with noodles. I’m starving.”
“Soba place a block over,” Shoto suggested. “Good broth, decent price.”
“Fine,” Katsuki grunted, slinging his bag over one shoulder and stalking ahead.
The soba shop was narrow, all cedar beams and the sweet scent of buckwheat. Wind chimes tinkled above the door as the trio ducked inside, welcomed by a chorus of Irasshaimase! A long window bar overlooked the street; they claimed the corner table instead—less chance of fans pestering them for autographs.
Condensation formed instantly on their water glasses. Katsuki plunked his elbows on the table, knuckles drumming impatiently while he scanned the board. Izuku and Shoto ordered cold zaru soba; Katsuki went for an extra‑large bowl of spicy pork soba with double egg.
As the waitress left, Shoto leveled his heterochromatic gaze at Katsuki’s face. The dim shop lighting still couldn’t hide the bruised shadows under his eyes. “You look like you pulled a forty‑hour patrol,” Shoto said. “When was the last time you actually slept?”
Katsuki snorted, cracking wooden chopsticks apart. “Didn’t. Had stuff to do.”
Izuku’s eyebrows pinched together. “Paperwork? Explosion‑training? Or… other ‘stuff’?”
“Drop it, Deku.”
Shoto exchanged a glance with Izuku but let it go for now. Steam rose from their bowls as the food arrived—perfectly chilled noodles for the two, Katsuki’s broth fiery red.
Izuku twirled noodles with practiced skill. “Y’know, since we all got our Pro licenses last semester, we’ve barely hung out—just us three. Patrol schedules, agency meetings, media rotations… It’s weird not seeing you two every day.”
Shoto chewed thoughtfully, then dabbed a napkin at the corner of his mouth. “I actually have the next two weeks off. Endeavor Agency is staggering teams. Figured I’d use it to stay far away from fire‑themed training seminars.”
Izuku brightened. “Two weeks? Then maybe we could—”
“Don’t say team‑building retreat,” Katsuki warned, mouth half full.
“I was gonna say visit All Might,” Izuku corrected, a fond smile curving his lips. “He’s been working on that memoir project and could use the company.”
Shoto nodded. “He asked me to test a new workout routine he designed for retired heroes. Could be… educational.”
Katsuki slurped a mouthful of broth, swallowed, then shrugged like it was no big deal. “Tch. If you two idiots wanna play nursemaids to the skeleton, knock yourselves out.”
Izuku laughed, undeterred. “You’ll come. You always do.”
“Don’t bet on it.”
But Izuku’s grin said he knew better. Across the table, Shoto studied Katsuki again—saw the tension riding his shoulders, the way his chopsticks tapped too fast against the bowl. Something was gnawing at their friend—something more than sleepless nights—but Shoto filed it away for later. Pushing Katsuki before he was ready never ended well.
“So,” Shoto said instead, steering the conversation, “who’s paying?”
Katsuki’s eyes snapped up, feral. “You, Icy‑Hot. That’s what rich kids are for.”
Shoto actually snorted—an almost‑laugh that drew surprised delight from Izuku. Steam curled lazily from their bowls while the lunchtime crowd ebbed and flowed around them. Once the worst of everyone’s hunger was subdued, conversation drifted from agency gossip to old school memories—Izuku reminding them of the sports‑fest final, Shoto countering with a dead‑serious recount of the time Katsuki blew up Aizawa’s podium during remedial training.
Katsuki barked a laugh. “That podium had it coming.”
“It was an inanimate object,” Shoto replied dryly.
“Exactly. Couldn’t feel pain.” Katsuki jabbed a chopstick for emphasis and chased the last bits of pork in his broth.
Izuku grinned at the familiar bickering, then wiped his mouth, suddenly fiddling with his napkin. “Uh… actually… speaking of milestones…”
Both heads turned his way. Katsuki raised a brow; Shoto paused mid‑sip of tea.
Izuku swallowed, cheeks coloring pink. “I… um… I’m going to propose to Ochako.”
Silence slammed onto the table like a rogue weight plate. Katsuki’s chopsticks froze halfway to his mouth. Shoto’s cup hovered in mid‑air. Two pairs of eyes—one red, one mismatched—stared, utterly blank.
Izuku’s voice hitched. “I‑I know it’s sudden, but we’ve been talking about the future a lot. She’s almost done with school, will be going pro right after and… and it feels right.” He laughed nervously. “I’ve never been so sure and so terrified at the same time.”
Shoto set his cup down with exquisite slowness. “Congratulations,” he said, still processing. “Do you have a ring?”
Izuku brightened, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket like a forbidden treasure. Inside nestled a delicate band with a starlike gemstone that shimmered rosy‑gold. “Custom cut to match her hero visor.”
Katsuki finally blinked. “You nerds… always overachieving.” But there was no bite in it—just shock… and something else.
Pride? Maybe.
As Izuku launched into details—his plan to propose and how he was going to which was the U.A observation deck where they’d shared their first clumsy flight training—Shoto leaned in, offering calm suggestions about security and media blackout. Katsuki half‑listened, the chatter turning to white noise as a thought drifted unbidden into his mind.
Rosie.
He could see it with alarming clarity: her wide blue eyes shimmering as he dropped to one knee, her laugh caught between disbelief and joy. Her hand trembling as he slid a ring—something bold, unique, a flash of crimson maybe—onto her finger. Her hugging him so fiercely his ribs threatened to crack. Saying yes without hesitation.
His stomach tightened.
Marriage. Commitment carved in stone. Something he’d never bothered imagining for himself—until she entered his life. The idea settled in his chest like a live coal: hot, dangerous, impossible to ignore.
Would she remember enough of their lost months to understand what he felt? Could he ever make up for how badly he’d failed to keep her safe?
“…Kacchan? You okay?”
Izuku’s quiet question snapped him back. Katsuki cleared his throat, masking the tumult behind a scowl. “Fine. Just thinking about how you’re gonna ugly‑cry when you pop the question.”
Izuku’s face flared red. “I will not ugly‑cry—well, maybe a little—”
Shoto looked between them, amusement soft in his heterochromatic gaze. “Bakugou’s right. Statistically, you will.”
Izuku huffed but his grin was unstoppable. Katsuki forced a smirk, but inside that coal kept glowing—equal parts hope and dread. He finished the last sip of spicy broth, set the bowl down with deliberate calm. Because once this stalker was found—once Rosie was safe beyond question—he had a feeling his own next step was waiting, heavy in his pocket like a promise yet to be forged.
The Miyashita Park farmers’ market was in full swing, stalls lined in rainbow canvas awnings and bursting with early‑summer produce. Vendors called out daily specials— “Sweet Kōchi mangoes, three for a thousand yen!” —while kids wove between legs clutching cups of shaved ice that melted faster than they could eat. The air smelled of roasted chestnuts, basil, and sun‑warmed strawberries.
Katsuki Bakuguo, Pro Hero Dynamight, stalked behind one particularly energetic shopper: his mother.
Mitsuki Bakugo’s platinum hair glinted under the sun as she inspected tomatoes with the same ruthless scrutiny she once reserved for teenage Katsuki’s report cards. Each time she approved a purchase, she handed the bag to her son. By now, Katsuki’s left arm supported three mesh totes bulging with greens, eggs, and a potted shiso plant that kept poking him in the jaw.
“…And then she tried to charge me nine hundred yen for a cabbage,” Mitsuki was saying, voice a rapid‑fire machine gun that made nearby shoppers accelerate. “Nine hundred! Can you believe these young vendors? They think ‘organic’ means I’m gonna mortgage the house for lettuce. Hah!”
“Move along, old hag,” Katsuki muttered, shifting the bags. “Some of us have delts that can only recover so fast.”
His mother smacked his shoulder. “Less lip, more lifting. There’s a honey stall down the next row—”
Mitsuki stopped mid‑sentence. Katsuki followed her gaze—and felt every molecule of oxygen stall in his lungs.
Rosie stood at a booth across the aisle, turning a jar of lavender honey in her fingers. She wore a pale butter‑yellow sundress that tied at the waist and fluttered just above her knees. A straw hat perched atop loose waves of rose hair, a white lace ribbon trailing down her back. In the crook of one arm rested a wicker basket filled with flowers, jewel‑toned jars of marmalade, and plump fruits.
Eri was beside her in a pastel romper, clutching her own smaller basket with the solemn importance of a knight guarding treasure. The girl noticed them first—and smirked like a cat who’d found the cream.
Rosie glanced up at Eri’s nudge. Her eyes widened when she saw Katsuki, a hint of surprise blooming into a shy smile.
For a half‑second, Katsuki could only stare. The market sounds dulled, colors brightened, and the weight of every grocery bag evaporated—until Mitsuki elbowed him hard. “Well don’t just gape, boy. Use your damn words.” She cupped a hand around her mouth and called, “Rosie, dear! Over here!”
Katsuki jolted. “Oi, stay outta my—”
Too late.
Rosie approached, Eri trailing with mischievous satisfaction. Up close, the sunlight caught silver flecks in Rosie’s eyes; she smelled faintly of berries and flowers.
“Hi, Mrs. Bakugo,” she greeted warmly. “Fancy seeing you both here. Thank you again for the flowers.”
When he was away on assignment his mother took it upon herself to visit her and bring her flowers. A detail he had been unaware of and got into a fight with her about and she just shrugged and said that she may have forgotten but it didn’t mean that she did.
Mitsuki beamed. “Darling, that dress is adorable. Turn—let me see the back. Yes! Lovely.” She shot a meaningful glance at her son, who bristled.
Katsuki shifted the bags higher on his arm, scowling. “Ma, we got produce spoiling in these. Move it.”
Rosie’s lips curved. “Heavy load?”
“Featherweight,” he grumbled, but a blush crawled up his neck.
Eri stepped forward. “We bought jam,” she announced, holding up a jar of blueberry‑yuzu as if it were a trophy. “And Rosie tried the honey, said it’d be perfect in tea.”
Rosie nodded. “You should try some, Katsuki. It’s spicy—infused with sanshō pepper.”
“That so?” he muttered, eyes flicking to hers, softening despite himself.
Mitsuki clasped her hands theatrically. “You know, Katsuki just ran out of honey yesterday. Please show him the stall as I would love to get his father some as well, he’d like a jar.” She jabbed him with an elbow. “Offer to carry her basket, dummy.”
Katsuki’s ears burned. “Knock it off, old woman.”
Rosie laughed, low and musical. “It’s okay. I’m managing.” She tilted her basket as if proving the weight. “Though I won’t say no to walking with you for a bit—if you’re not too busy being your mom’s pack mule.”
A spark lit behind Katsuki’s eyes—an unspoken fine, have it your way —as he shifted the bags again with a grumble. “Tch. I’ll escort you,” he muttered, loud enough for Mitsuki to hear. “You two—” he nodded toward his mother and Eri “—try not to bankrupt the family before I get back.”
Eri giggled knowingly, and Mitsuki gave him the finally look that only made him scowl harder. Rosie just smiled and began walking, and like hell if he wasn’t going to keep pace.
Their shoulders nearly brushed as they moved through the lively rows of market stalls. Rosie held her basket carefully in one arm, her other hand reaching now and then to point at something, or to tuck a strand of her pastel-pink hair behind her ear. The sundress she wore fluttered with each step, drawing more attention than Katsuki was comfortable with. Especially from some vendor kid leering over apricots—who Katsuki promptly glared down until the guy nearly choked on a sample peach.
“So,” Rosie said brightly, her voice light above the hum of the crowd, “Eri loves the little bee pin the woman at the flower stand gave her. I think she’s gonna wear it to school and tell everyone she’s a beekeeper now.”
“Hmph.”
Rosie laughed softly. “You know, you’ve got a very interesting method of conversation. Almost like you speak in grunts.”
“Tch.”
“That one was different. Impressive range.”
Katsuki side-eyed her. “You gonna narrate everything I do or actually get the honey?”
Unfazed, she giggled and veered toward a corner booth shaded by an orange canopy. Glass jars of local honey shimmered golden in the sunlight, arranged neatly beside beeswax candles and tiny wooden dippers tied with ribbon. She leaned in to read the flavors out loud: “Lavender… Sanshō pepper… rosemary-lemon…”
He watched her talk, barely registering what she was saying. Her eyes were so bright it was almost annoying—like she hadn’t lived through the same goddamn darkness he had. Like she hadn’t spent months recovering from something that still haunted him.
She smiled at the vendor, while katsuki fished out money handing it to the vendor and grabbing the two jars. He tucked the jars into his mother’s tote, she glanced up at him. “Do you like honey?”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”
Rosie hummed and started walking again. “Well, I do. I put it in tea. On toast. In oatmeal. It makes everything better.”
“Figures you’d say that.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re the kind of person who’d put glitter on cereal if someone told you it’d make it sparkle.”
She blinked, then burst into laughter. “I mean… probably, yeah. That sounds kind of amazing.”
He shook his head and muttered something under his breath, but he didn’t speed up. He didn’t pull away when her arm lightly bumped his as they walked.
They turned a corner past a stall selling pressed flowers when she asked, more gently, “So… how’s work been? The whole Pro Hero life?”
Katsuki exhaled through his nose. “Same as always.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s busy. It’s shitty. People do dumb shit, villains don’t know when to quit, and I barely sleep.”
Rosie tilted her head. “That bad?”
He didn’t meet her eyes, gaze fixed on the path ahead. “A job’s a job. You do what you have to.”
She was quiet for a moment before saying, “You’re really brave, you know. Most people wouldn’t keep doing something that eats them up.”
“Tch. Don’t get all sentimental. I’m not doin’ it for praise.”
“I know,” she said quietly. “That’s what makes it brave.”
Katsuki didn't reply. He just walked beside her, every step matched to hers, the air warm and sweet with the scent of citrus and honey. The sun cast soft shadows on the cobblestone street—and for once, he didn’t feel the weight of everything he carried. Well. Not all of it.
Rosie kept talking, her voice an easy melody that danced around Katsuki’s thoughts—sweet and light like honey on toast, completely unaware of the way he was slowly unraveling beside her.
“So then I told the lady at the flower stall that no, I wasn’t looking for roses, because I am the rose,” she grinned at her own joke, then added, “and she laughed, which was nice because I think she was a little grumpy before that. You know, it’s kind of a talent, cheering people up. Not that I go around trying to, it just happens sometimes and people just need that y’know?”
Katsuki nodded absently, his eyes trained on her face and then flickering away like they always did when he caught himself staring too long. She was sunshine and storm all in one—the kind of girl who’d talk about jam flavors while walking through a battlefield. The kind of girl he couldn’t stop thinking about. The kind of girl who is still his.
She turned a corner with him, holding her basket with both hands as she kept talking, something about wanting to try making marmalade from scratch. He heard her—he really did—but the words started blending together into a soft hum, and all he could focus on was the way the wind toyed with the hem of her dress, the glint of light bouncing off her hair, and the way her voice filled the space between them without ever demanding anything from him.
And for once, he wanted to say something. Something real.
He drew in a sharp breath, finally finding the words—but before he could speak, two kids came barreling around the corner from a nearby stall, running full speed and laughing without a care in the world.
Katsuki’s instincts kicked in. “Shit—watch out,” he barked, grabbing Rosie by the waist and yanking her toward him.
She let out a startled gasp as he twisted his body, pressing her tightly to his chest just as the kids zoomed past. One of them brushed her arm and stumbled, but kept running.
Katsuki didn’t let go right away. “You good?” he asked, his voice low, rough with worry.
Rosie blinked up at him, her cheek pressed against his chest, her arms curled around her basket. “Y-Yeah. Just surprised.”
His heart was still thundering, but he gave a quick nod and stepped back, his hands lingering a second too long before dropping to his sides. “Those damn brats…”
Rosie looked a little dazed, her cheeks flushed. “Thanks…”
He cleared his throat, stepping back. “Let’s get back. Before your sister spends all your money on candy and whatever my mother has her convinced she needs to try.”
She smiled, her voice still breathless. “Yeah… okay.”
They headed back the way they came, Katsuki walking just a little closer this time, his hand brushing against her back every time someone passed too close.
As they reached the shaded table near the café courtyard, the sight that greeted them had Katsuki groaning under his breath. Mitsuki and Eri were sitting at a table with two cones of dripping ice cream, laughing like old best friends. Eri had somehow gotten sprinkles in her hair. Mitsuki was mid-story, gesturing wildly, clearly deep in some embarrassing tale as the both of them giggled.
“God help us,” Katsuki muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Rosie just laughed beside him, and that sound—bright and warm and unbothered—settled something tight in his chest he didn’t know had been wound so hard. He looked down at her as she beamed toward her sister and his mother. She didn’t know it, but she had him completely undone.
Notes:
omg, I loved this chapter as it helps set up for the next arc🤭 lemme know your thoughts and I'll see you in the next one💖
Chapter 124: Be his girlfriend instead.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie lay sprawled across her couch, one leg hanging off the edge, the remote balanced on her stomach, and her phone loosely gripped in one hand as she scrolled through the same three apps for the fifth time that hour. Boredom had fully settled in like a fog over her mind. Eri was off on her camping trip with Izuku and Mirio—probably roasting marshmallows or chasing fireflies under the stars. Kanako and Shinso were vacationing in freaking Bora Bora , sending her tropical selfies that made her feel more single than she already was. Akira had flown back to the States to deal with some family stuff, and her dad and uncle were buried in work, each on their own pro-hero assignments.
Rosie had already cleaned the entire apartment top to bottom. She did all her errands, even stocked the fridge, color-coded her closet, and went through her makeup drawer to toss out old lipsticks she didn’t wear anymore. That’s how bad it was—she had voluntarily organized her makeup drawer.
She groaned, tossing her phone onto the couch next to her face, where it buzzed a second later.
Maerya: You free? Meet me for coffee? I’m on break at Ishlamare near the library.
Rosie sat bolt upright.
Rosie: YES. Thank GOD. Be there in 20.
She all but jumped to her feet, scrambling to grab her keys and throw on something cuter than sweatpants. She settled on a flowy lavender blouse, high-waisted jeans, and some comfortable flats. With a touch of mascara and a bit of blush, she gave herself a once-over in the mirror, fluffed her hair, and hurried out the door.
Ishlamara was tucked between the library and an art gallery, all warm wood interiors and potted plants in every corner. Rosie spotted Maerya instantly through the large glass window. She was sitting at a table near the window, her hair tucked behind her ears, wearing a soft blue blouse and black slacks, her ID badge for her new receptionist job clipped to her neckline.
Rosie lit up as she walked in, waving excitedly. “Maerya!”
Maerya stood up with a grin, hugging her. “You look like you’ve been bored out of your mind.”
“You don’t even know,” Rosie sighed, dropping into the seat across from her. “You literally saved my life. I was one ‘what's your favorite color of nail polish’ quiz away from losing my mind.”
Maerya laughed. “I had a feeling. That’s why I texted you. I finally got a long enough break to breathe, and I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” Rosie smiled brightly. “How’s the new job going? You look so professional!”
“It’s… a lot,” Maerya admitted, sipping her latte. “Phones ringing constantly, people showing up with no appointment, me trying to look calm while internally panicking. But I’m getting the hang of it. They’ve been really patient with me.”
Rosie rested her chin in her hand, watching her with pride. “I’m so happy for you. You’re, like, an official working adult now.”
“I still feel like a fraud half the time,” Maerya joked.
They spent the next hour catching up—giggling over old gossip, swapping stories about work drama, chatting about their favorite lip glosses, and theorizing about which co-worker at her job had a crush on the other. Maerya told her about the quirky nurse who always wore neon green Crocs at the clinic, and Rosie talked about the new girl at Ignis Inferno who tried to dance in seven-inch stilettos and fell into the fog machine.
Rosie was laughing so hard at one point that she nearly choked on her iced coffee. “This is exactly what I needed,” she sighed as she dabbed her eyes. “Why don’t we hang out more?”
“I’m just trying to keep up with life,” Maerya said with a grin. “But I missed you. We need more days like this.”
“Agreed,” Rosie nodded. “Let’s make it a thing—coffee dates at least once a week.”
“Deal,” Maerya smiled. “So I heard that you ran into Katsuki at the farmer’s market the other day,” Maerya said, her tone casual but her eyes sharp with interest as she stirred her tea.
Rosie groaned quietly and set her drink down. “Still just as grumpy as ever.”
Maerya smirked behind the rim of her teacup. “And?”
Rosie sighed, brushing a curl behind her ear. “I don’t know what I did to make him dislike me so much. He barely says two words to me unless he’s lecturing me or growling.”
“Mm,” Maerya hummed, setting her cup down and folding her hands together neatly. “Katsuki’s always been...disagreeable. It’s how he expresses himself. Don’t take it personally. I suggest you just keep being yourself and eventually, he’ll come around.”
Rosie blinked at her, doubtful. “You really think so?”
“I know so,” Maerya said with a mysterious smile that made Rosie narrow her eyes.
Giggling, Rosie leaned back in her chair. “You sound like Eri. That’s exactly what she says.”
“Oh?” Maerya tilted her head, clearly amused.
Rosie nodded. “Eri keeps telling me that Hiroshi isn’t good for me and keeps trying to push me toward Katsuki of all people. I swear, Dad was right—she’s been watching way too much anime and reading all those shoujo mangas. She’s convinced she’s in the middle of a romantic plot arc or something.”
Maerya’s smile didn’t falter. In fact, it deepened. “I agree with her.”
Rosie’s eyes widened, a groan escaping her throat. “Not you too.”
“Rosie,” Maerya said gently, voice soft but somehow weighted with meaning. “Hiroshi is sweet on the surface, sure—but there’s no substance there. No fire. No... depth . He’ll smile, but he won’t fight for you.”
Rosie looked down, frowning. “Katsuki doesn’t even want to be my friend. How could I expect anything more from him?”
Maerya shrugged one elegant shoulder and reached for her tea again. “Then don’t be his friend.”
Rosie’s brows furrowed. “Huh?”
Maerya lifted her cup slowly to her lips, smirking just slightly. “Be his girlfriend instead.”
Rosie choked. “W-What?”
She blinked at her, wide-eyed and stunned. The words hit her like a ton of bricks— girlfriend . The mental image of her and Katsuki as a couple immediately flooded her brain: him holding her hand, his arm around her waist, his usual scowl softening just for her. She nearly dropped her drink.
“I—he—we’re not—he doesn’t even like me!” she blurted.
Maerya chuckled softly, as though she had been expecting that exact response. “He’s the one who saved you, you know. Risked everything to find you when no one else could. Held you the entire ride to the hospital, wouldn’t let anyone else touch you. That kind of hatred looks a lot more like devotion if you ask me.”
Rosie’s cheeks burned. She looked down at her lap, picking at the edge of her sleeve.
Maerya leaned in slightly, voice quiet but clear. “You don’t see it now.”
Rosie didn’t know what to say. Her heart was doing somersaults, her thoughts a tangle of disbelief, confusion, and... something warm and terrifying beneath it all.
“Now,” Maerya said, sitting back with a graceful smile, “are we going to order dessert, or are you going to sit there thinking about him for the next hour?”
Rosie blinked again, flustered and still processing. “I—uh—yeah. Dessert. Sure. Let’s do that.”
But as Maerya signaled the server, Rosie’s thoughts were still spinning in place, her heart thudding just a little too loudly as she wondered— what if Maerya was right? Then she shook her head. Katsuki told her he only saved her because he respects her Dad. No other reason. Both Eri and Maerya were delusional.
It was late afternoon, the sky still a soft blue streaked with hints of pink as the sun lazily dipped toward the horizon. Rosie strolled down the tree-lined street in a light hoodie and shorts, Maya trotting happily beside her on her leash, the white poodle prissing as she looked around at everything. The air was warm, buzzing with the sound of cicadas and the rustle of leaves.
Rosie tugged her ponytail tighter and smiled at the quiet peace of the moment.
“Oh, hey, Rosie.”
She glanced up at the familiar voice and saw Hiroshi walking toward her from the other side of the sidewalk, his white hair slightly tousled from the breeze, a canvas tote slung over his shoulder and his usual warm smile already in place. He was dressed casually in a simple black T-shirt and jeans, sleeves pushed up his arms. He looked —well— good. Of course he did.
Her smile bloomed before she could stop it. “Hey, Hiroshi.”
Before she could say anything else, Maya’s little ears perked up, and she barked happily. Her tail began wagging furiously, and then—much to Rosie’s surprise—she took off.
“Maya—!”
The leash tugged from her hand as Maya ran full speed toward Hiroshi, spinning in a tight little circle at his feet and plopping her tiny butt down, tail still wagging like mad.
Rosie blinked. “Uh... wow.”
Hiroshi laughed, already crouching down. “Hey, Maya.” He scratched behind her ears, and Maya leaned into his touch like she’d known him for years.
Digging into his pocket, Hiroshi pulled out a small treat. “You want this? Sit pretty for me.”
Maya barked once, tail thumping the ground.
“You... keep treats in your pocket?” Rosie asked, amused and stunned as she walked over to them.
“Guilty,” he grinned as Maya delicately took the treat from his palm. “I just came back from the animal shelter. I volunteer there sometimes. Guess I forgot I still had these in my jacket.”
Rosie tilted her head, watching Maya nuzzle into his hand. “That’s actually really sweet. I’m surprised Maya liked you so fast—usually takes her a while to warm up to men.”
Hiroshi gave a small shrug. “Guess I’m just lucky.”
Rosie raised an eyebrow, but before she could reply, Hiroshi stood and dusted his hands off. “Hey, listen—I was about to grab something to eat. Would you want to join me?”
She blinked. “Dinner?”
“Yeah.” He smiled that easy, lopsided grin of his. “Nothing fancy. There’s a spot a few blocks over—great noodles, nice patio, dog friendly.”
Rosie glanced down at Maya, who was now sitting obediently by Hiroshi’s foot, looking up at him like he was the best thing to happen to her all day.
Rosie couldn’t help the soft laugh that slipped from her lips. “Sure. Dinner sounds nice.”
“Great.” He offered his arm in an exaggerated gentlemanly way. “Lead the way, Miss Rosie.”
She rolled her eyes playfully, linking her hand through the crook of his arm. “Let’s go before Maya decides to elope with you.”
Hiroshi chuckled, “I’d say yes. She’s a total sweetheart.”
As they started walking together, Rosie glanced at Maya once more—her little tail still wagging, ears perked, completely smitten.
Strange, she thought. But maybe good things came when you least expected them.
The outdoor patio of the noodle café was lit with warm string lights, casting a soft amber glow over the tables and flowering planters that lined the railing. A few other diners chatted in low voices, laughter echoing gently from a nearby table. Rosie sat across from Hiroshi, twirling her noodles absentmindedly with her chopsticks as Maya dozed peacefully at her feet, full from the small plate of grilled chicken the waiter had brought out just for her.
Hiroshi sipped from his iced tea, his white hair catching the lights as he leaned forward, elbows on the table. “So… what about you? Any idea what you want to do after graduation?”
Rosie blinked, caught off guard by the question—especially because she had just been about to ask him something herself. “Actually, I was gonna ask you the same thing.”
He grinned. “Alright, fair trade. You first.”
She narrowed her eyes playfully. “You just flipped that on me.”
“I did,” he admitted with a teasing shrug. “But I’m very persuasive.”
Rolling her eyes fondly, Rosie leaned back in her chair and sighed. “I don’t know,” she admitted, stirring her bowl gently. “I haven’t really figured that out yet. I guess I might just stick with my current job for a while. I like it, it pays the bills, and I’ve got Eri to take care of sometimes… I don’t know. I guess I’m still waiting for a sign or something. A reason to pick a path.”
Hiroshi watched her quietly for a moment, then smiled softly. “That’s okay, you know. Not having it all figured out yet.”
She gave him a look. “Do you have it all figured out?”
He laughed, leaning back and stretching his arms across the back of his chair. “A little bit, actually. I’m going into tech—software design and development. I’ve been working on a few prototypes already.”
“Really?” she asked, a brow arched.
“Mmhm,” he nodded. “I graduate next year, and I’ve got the capital to launch something small. My dad left me some money when he passed. I want to start my own company, keep it small and simple, and eventually grow it into something more stable.”
Rosie’s features softened. “I’m sorry about your dad.”
He gave her a grateful smile, though there was a faint glimmer of sadness in his eyes. “Thanks. It was hard, but it gave me direction, you know? Made me realize what I wanted.”
She tilted her head, intrigued. “And what do you want?”
“A peaceful life,” he answered almost instantly. “Stable job, warm house, a golden retriever running around—”
“Wait,” she interrupted, amused, “not a poodle?”
He smirked. “Maya is special. She’s an exception.”
Rosie laughed quietly, her eyes flicking down to her snoozing pup.
“I want to be married in the next three years or so,” Hiroshi continued, voice a little quieter. “Start a family. Live comfortably. Not flashy, just… full of joy. You know?”
Rosie’s lips parted slightly at how easily he said it. Like he’d thought about it often. Like he really meant it. “That’s… kind of adorable,” she muttered.
He grinned, eyes crinkling. “Don’t tell anyone. Gotta keep the mystery alive.”
“So… what’s your real passion?” she asked, chin resting on her hand. “You said tech was the plan, but not the dream.”
His expression flickered, something warm and nostalgic flashing across it. “Art,” he said softly. “Drawing, painting, sculpture—whatever my hands want to do that day.”
She sat up straighter, clearly interested, but just as she opened her mouth to ask more—
“But enough about me,” he said abruptly, waving a hand. “Back to you. You seriously don’t have any clue what you wanna do?”
Rosie blinked. Did he just dodge her question? Still, she let it go.
“Not a clue,” she admitted. “I mean, it’s not like I don’t have dreams. But they’ve always felt… out of reach. Like, maybe I’d do them someday when life settles down. Whenever that is.”
Hiroshi leaned forward again, elbows back on the table, gaze focused entirely on her. “I think someday’s closer than you think.”
She looked at him, surprised.
“Whatever you want to do—when you’re ready—you’ll kill it, Rosie.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. No one had ever said it to her so simply, with that kind of belief.
“…Thanks,” she said, a little shyly. “You’re like… some golden retriever of positivity.”
He laughed loud and bright. “You give serious black cat energy, so we balance out.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t take it personally. You’re very sleek and mysterious.”
“I’m not mysterious,” she said with a snort.
“You’re impossible to read.”
She picked up her drink, sipping it slowly. “Good. Keeps people on their toes.”
He rested his chin on his hand, still smiling at her like she was a particularly fascinating book he hadn’t finished reading yet. “Works on me.”
Her heart gave a traitorous flutter—and she quickly looked away, pretending to focus on Maya. Still, she couldn’t stop smiling.
Glitter still clung to Rosie’s shoulders as she stepped down the side stairs of the stage, the final brass note of the show fading behind her. She smoothed the airy white feathers at her waist and adjusted the rhinestone straps of her ice‑blue corset.
The floor was already buzzing. The other girls—sequins flashing in ruby, emerald, and gold—zigzagged between tables with trays balanced high. Rosie caught a wave from Varsas, then pivoted toward the corner VIP booth to check on the newest arrivals.
Her heart did an involuntary skip.
Hawks, Tokoyami, Shoto, and Katsuki occupied the half‑moon seat beneath a low chandelier, a tall bottle of sparkling water sweating in the center. Hawks lounged like he owned the place, tie undone; Shoto sat with military posture, eyeing the layered drink in front of him; Tokoyami hunched over the leather‑bound menu in solemn concentration; Katsuki… well, Katsuki scowled at the condensation on his glass as though it had personally offended him.
Rosie gathered her courage, plastered on a sunny smile, and approached. “Evening, gentlemen. Welcome to Ignis Inferno. What can I get started for you?”
Hawks’s golden eyes swept over her burlesque ensemble with appreciative mischief. “My, Rosie, you look positively celestial in that color. I will take whatever’s strong enough to make me forget how many feathers I used to preen this morning.”
Rosie flushed, ducking her head. “You got it, Hawks. Something… celestial‑strength.”
Shoto ignored the banter and offered a polite nod. “The house mocktail again, please.”
Tokoyami looked up from the menu, crimson gaze earnest. “Your recommendations would be… enlightening. The steak looks promising, but so does this mushroom pasta.”
Rosie leaned in to point at the grilled wagyu listing. “Our chef does the steak medium‑rare with a sanshō‑pepper glaze. It’s the most popular entrée. The pasta’s rich, but lighter if you’re not starving after patrol.”
Tokoyami considered. “Steak, then. Medium‑rare.”
“Excellent choice,” she said softly, scribbling the order.
A low grunt drew her eyes to Katsuki. He sat back, arms crossed, jaw ticcing. “I’ll take the steak, too. And don’t drown it in any frou‑frou glaze.”
Rosie bit back a smile. “Plain steak, medium‑rare. Anything to drink?”
“Whatever lager you’ve got on tap.”
“Coming right up.”
Hawks propped his elbows on the table, chin in his hands. “You sure we can’t convince you to sit with us? I’m happy to relinquish my seat.”
Rosie laughed, still pink‑cheeked. “Tempting, but I should keep the other tables happy before Katsuki explodes over slow service.”
“She’s got you pegged, bro,” Hawks teased.
Katsuki shot him a glare hot enough to sear steel, but his eyes flicked to Rosie and softened by a fraction. “…Just don’t forget the drinks,” he muttered.
“I won’t.” She winked, stepping back. “I’ll be right over with rolls and butter.”
As she turned toward the bar, Hawks whistled low. “Admit it, Dynamight—service here really is explosive.”
Katsuki’s response was a growl, but Shoto caught the faint tug at the corner of his mouth—almost a smile.
Rosie balanced the tray on one hand, weaving between tables until she reached the VIP booth. The moment she set down the basket of warm rolls, the buttery smell puffed into the air. She followed with little plates of whipped herb butter, then slid Hawks’s amber cocktail, Shoto’s citrus spritzer, Tokoyami’s iced oolong, and Katsuki’s tall draft lager into place—everything in neat lines the way the manager drilled into them.
“Anything else I can grab for you before the entrées?” she asked, hands clasped behind her back.
Shoto shook his head; Tokoyami murmured a polite “No, thank you.” Hawks, though, rested his chin on his hand and gave her a slow once‑over.
“Well, an angelic smile’s always appreciated,” he said, lashes dipping. “Careful—if you keep serving looks like that, you’ll put us all in a sugar coma.”
Rosie felt heat rush up her neck to her ears. “Um—thank you? I—uh—” She tucked a curl behind her ear, trying to hide the blush. Hawks’s grin widened, clearly enjoying her fluster.
Across the table Katsuki’s fingers drummed once, sharply, on the wood. She glanced his way—he stared hard at the rolls as if they’d insulted him.
Before she found words that weren’t scrambled, the front doors swung open and a familiar voice called, “Rosie!”
Hiroshi—white hair perfectly tousled—cut across the floor with two friends in tow. He stopped right beside her and, without hesitation, kissed her cheek. Her blush went from pink to scarlet. “Think you’ve got a spot in your section?” he asked, bright as ever.
“Oh—um—actually I’m full up,” she said, stepping back a little. “Varsas has open tables, though.”
Speak of the devil—Varsas glided over in ruby sequins. “We can swap sections if you’d like?”
Before Rosie could answer, a low, dangerous growl rumbled from the booth. “Fuck no,” Katsuki snapped, voice cutting through the lounge music. Shoto blinked; Tokoyami’s feathers bristled. Even Hawks looked impressed.
Rosie only sighed—used to the outbursts. “Hiroshi,” she said gently, “it’ll be a wait since it’s a friday night, or you can come back later.”
Hiroshi straightened, glancing at Katsuki’s glare, then back to her. “I’ll wait. No problem.”
“Great.” She mustered her sweetest smile, though her pulse hammered. “I’ll let you know as soon as something opens up.”
Hiroshi nodded and stepped aside. Rosie gathered her tray, heart still thudding, and headed for the bar.
Notes:
Drama, drama, drama🤭 see you guys tomorrow and lemme know your thoughts as I will see you in the next one💖
Chapter 125: It’s noodles, not a vintage wine list.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki’s jaw ticked, his eyes locked on the white-haired bastard sitting two tables down—Hiroshi, laughing at something Rosie said as she leaned down to set his drink on the table that had cleared up where he sat with his two friends.
Her hand brushed his. Katsuki saw red. “What the actual—” he muttered under his breath, fingers tightening around his glass until it groaned.
“Whoa,” Hawks whistled lowly, swirling the amber liquid in his tumbler as he followed Katsuki’s line of sight. “So that’s the guy?”
Katsuki didn’t answer. Didn’t even blink. His lip curled like a dog ready to bite.
Shoto lifted his own drink, calm as ever. “Yes. His name is Hiroshi.”
Hiroshi. Sitting there all relaxed and smug. Wearing that pressed black button-up like he had any right looking decent. Looking at her like that. Rosie laughed at something he said. She laughed.
Katsuki’s hand was halfway to slamming down his drink when Hawks grinned. “He’s good looking,” the winged menace offered helpfully, his tone deliberately innocent.
Katsuki snapped his head toward him, eyes blazing. “Shut. The fuck. Up.”
Hawks raised his hands, still grinning. “I’m just saying—he’s got that mysterious ‘I-don’t-say-much-but-I’ll-ruin-your-life’ vibe. Girls love that.”
“I will ruin his life,” Katsuki growled. “I will put his face through that fucking table.”
Shoto blinked slowly, sipping his drink with bored amusement. “You should wait until after Rosie brings the food, though. No need to ruin the appetizers.”
Katsuki looked like he was two seconds from flipping the entire table.
Tokoyami, seated beside Shoto, tilted his head, thoroughly confused. “Are we… fighting someone? I didn’t realize this was a combat assignment.”
Katsuki slammed his hand flat on the table, rattling every glass. “He touched her hand, ” he snapped, practically foaming at the mouth.
Hawks leaned forward, eyes glinting with mischief. “Bakugou. Buddy. You realize you’re glaring literal murder daggers at a guy who’s just getting a drink and a smile.”
Katsuki’s jaw clenched hard enough to make his teeth ache. “ That’s not just a smile. That’s the smile. The one she does when she likes someone. The soft one. With the eyes. You don’t know what I’m talking about because you’re a shallow bastard, but—!”
“She smiled at you like that earlier,” Shoto cut in smoothly.
“That was different. She always smiles at me like that.”
“Hmm,” Shoto hummed, the edge of a smirk twitching at his mouth. “Sounds like jealousy.”
“I’m not jealous,” Katsuki snapped, then growled as Rosie laughed again. “He’s sitting too close. Why is he sitting so close?”
“Maybe he’s just friendly,” Tokoyami offered unhelpfully.
“He’s friendly with his face too close to hers!”
“Bro,” Hawks said through a laugh, “are you about to jump the table?”
“I will, ” Katsuki growled, already shifting in his seat like a predator about to pounce.
“Please don’t,” Shoto said mildly. “This place has really good soba. I’d like to enjoy it while it’s still warm.”
“ He has dimples. ”
Hawks raised a brow. “Are you seriously mad about dimples?”
“I don’t have dimples, ” Katsuki snapped.
Rosie turned, her eyes scanning the room—and then her gaze landed on him. She smiled. That soft, his smile. Katsuki immediately sat up straighter, his scowl faltering just a little.
Shoto tilted his head. “And there it is. The smile.”
“I’m still beating his ass,” Katsuki muttered under his breath, but quieter this time. His eyes stayed on her, even as she walked away.
Tokoyami still looked confused. “Who are we attacking?”
Shoto sipped his drink. “Emotion, mostly.”
Katsuki glared. “All of you can shut the hell up.”
But he still hadn’t taken his eyes off her, nor would he ever, especially since he was going to look into the bastard. Not because he was jealous or anything. No, that was ridiculous. Why would he be jealous? He is Katsuki Bakugou, pro hero and a war veteran. He had no reason to be jealous of a little nobody shit like Hiroshi.
“Ah, Tokoyami,” Hawks slung an easy arm around the young hero’s shoulders as they leaned back into the plush booth. “How’s life going for you? Still brooding and poetic or have you finally taken up surfing like I told you to?”
“I prefer solitude and stillness,” Tokoyami replied with his usual gravitas, though there was a twitch of a smile in the corner of his beak. “Waves are unpredictable.”
“Exactly why they’re good for your soul,” Hawks grinned, before turning to raise his glass again.
Katsuki barely heard them. He was too busy tracking her—his doll—as she floated between tables in that light blue and silver getup that somehow managed to hug every curve and shimmer under the low lights of the cabaret. Her heels clicked confidently on the floor. She smiled at every customer, her laughter soft and warm, the way she leaned in just enough to make anyone feel special. She was good at this—too good.
Katsuki’s jaw flexed. That damn outfit. That damn smile. And that damn Hiroshi sitting a few tables down with that smug expression like he owned the world.
He didn’t realize he was gripping his beer glass tighter than necessary until it creaked faintly in his palm.
“She’s good at reading people,” Shoto said suddenly, breaking the silence between them.
Katsuki blinked, dragging his attention away from her long enough to glance across the table. “What?”
“Rosie,” Shoto clarified, resting his chin on his hand. “She’ll see through him eventually.”
Katsuki narrowed his eyes. “You sure about that?”
“She may be naive about some things,” Shoto admitted, pausing as he watched her from across the room. “But she’s still Aizawa’s daughter. That instinct—it’s buried in her. She’ll know something’s off. Eventually.”
Katsuki didn’t respond, but something about Shoto’s calm certainty dug into his chest and made something unclench there. Just a little.
“Until then,” Hawks added, swirling his drink, “our job is to keep the vultures at bay. Especially the ones with trust-fund smiles and suspiciously perfect hair.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes. “I’ll burn that damn smile off if I have to.”
“You could just talk to her, you know,” Shoto said, voice dry. “Radical idea, I know.”
Katsuki grunted and took a long swig of his beer, eyes drifting back to where she laughed at something one of the regulars said. And for a fleeting second, her gaze brushed past his. Her lips parted like she might’ve smiled in his direction—like she’d felt him watching. Then Hiroshi leaned over to whisper something to her, and she turned away again. Katsuki’s expression darkened, his fingers twitching under the table.
The late‑night air felt like warm velvet against Katsuki’s skin as he lounged against the hood of his car, arms crossed, hands shoved deep into his
jean pockets. Ignis Inferno’s neon sign flickered above him, humming softly. He checked his phone: 2:34 a.m. Shoto had better appreciate the favor he owed him for this.
The back door swung open and Rosie stepped out, a blur of bare legs and an oversized staff T‑shirt that swallowed her figure. Her duffle bag bounced against her hip as she paused under the awning’s light, blinking when she spotted him.
“Katsuki?” she called, confusion and a little delight mingling in her voice. “What are you doing here?”
He straightened, jerking his chin toward her. “Shoto got called in on some family crap,” he lied smoothly. “Asked me to get you home.”
Rosie slowed, wide eyes searching his face. “Oh—that’s sweet, but you didn’t have to. I can catch a cab.”
“Not taking ‘no’ as an answer,” he said gruffly, stepping forward to snatch the duffle from her shoulder before she could argue. “Let’s move.”
She jogged a step to keep up, half laughing. “You’re impossible, you know that? But thanks.”
Their footsteps echoed in the quiet service corridor that tunneled beneath the club to the back lot. In the chilly fluorescent light, Rosie kept sneaking sideways glances at him—at the way his shoulders tensed any time a distant shout ricocheted from the street above, or how he automatically steered her to the inside of the path, body angled between her and anyone who might pass.
Once outside, he opened the passenger door of his sleek black hatchback and tossed her duffle into the back seat with practiced efficiency. Rosie slid into the bucket seat, the faint scent of caramel and smoke— him —wrapping around her like a blanket.
He pulled out of the lot with a low growl of the engine. Rosie, ever the night‑owl sunshine, started humming some upbeat jazz tune from the club’s earlier set, tapping her fingers against her knee. Katsuki’s eyes flicked to her, then back to the road. She looked exhausted—glitter still clinging to her collarbones—but she was glowing anyway, like the city lights were her personal spotlight.
“Sorry,” she murmured after a minute, self‑conscious. “Habit. Music stuck in my head.”
“Tch. Humming’s fine,” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched at the way she brightened back up.
The ride was short—her building was only ten minutes away—but he still scanned every alley and rooftop they passed, muscles coiled tight. When they parked, Katsuki cut the engine, jumped out, and came around to open her door before she’d even unclicked the seatbelt.
She blinked at the old‑school courtesy. “You don’t have to walk me up,” she said, grabbing for her bag—he intercepted it easily. “Seriously, Katsuki, I’m a big girl.”
“It’s two‑forty‑five in the damn morning,” he grumbled, slamming the car door shut with his hip. “You’re not walking these halls alone.”
Rosie frowned, trailing him toward the lobby doors. “I can take care of myself.”
He answered with a noncommittal hum, as if the conversation were over. The security guard behind the desk straightened when he saw Katsuki’s glare and wisely looked away.
They took the elevator, the soft whirring before it stopped on her ‑floor. Rosie's keys jingled as he followed her to her apartment, as she unlocked her apartment door once they stopped in front of it.
He set the duffle inside, then rested one hand on the frame, blocking the hallway like a guard dog. His gaze swept the dim corridor before settling back on her. “Listen up,” he said quietly, voice rough with something that almost sounded like worry. “You don’t let anybody walk you back this late except me or Shoto. Nobody else. Got it?”
Rosie blinked, heart stuttering at the intensity of his stare. “That’s… kinda bossy.”
“Yeah. Add it to the list.” His scowl softened a millimeter. “Just—promise.”
She bit her lip, studying him. The protective edge in his voice made her chest warm in a way she didn’t quite understand. “Okay,” she said at last. “I promise.”
He nodded once, satisfied, then stepped back. “Lock up. Double‑bolt.” He turned, heading for the stairs.
“Katsuki?”
He stopped, glancing over his shoulder.
Rosie smiled, gentle and bright. “Thanks for bringing me home.”
He grunted—almost a thank‑you, almost a you’re welcome —then disappeared down the hall until he heard her close the door. In the hallway, Katsuki exhaled slowly, palms finally unclenching. Dangerous world or not, he’d make damn sure she got home safe. Every. Single. Time.
Katsuki sat stiffly, shoulders bunched beneath his leather jacket, as if the vinyl backrest of the booth were barbed wire instead of cheap diner upholstery. Across from him, Eraserhead— Aizawa‑sensei in every cell of Katsuki’s body—looked weary but resolute, the perpetual dusk beneath his eyes tinged tonight with something like gratitude. Shoto had already claimed the laminated menu with the solemn focus of a man scanning a battle plan.
Katsuki forced himself to keep his expression blank, but inside, thoughts churned like shrapnel.
Why the hell am I here?
He should have refused—should have stayed on patrol or buried himself in the case files stacked like landmines back in his apartment. Instead, he was sitting across from the father of the woman who owned every fuse in his body, pretending he was just a dutiful colleague, friend, former student and not the secret ex boyfriend of his daughter.
Nine months. Nine months of stolen rooftops and alleyway kisses; secret dates at midnight ramen stalls, her laughter bright in the dark while he glared at passing pedestrians to keep them from staring. Her perfume woven into his hoodie, her fingertips tracing the calluses on his knuckles as if the map of his hands was sacred scripture. Nine months of biting his tongue whenever her name surfaced in class, willing the heat in his chest not to rise to his face. Nine months of memorizing her heartbeat through silk sheets and promising—quiet, stupid promises—that he’d keep her safe from anything this ugly world could brew and then everything went to hell.
The kidnapping, the week she’d disappeared into darkness, the memory loss that robbed her of every sunrise they’d shared. The endless nights he replayed that footage—her broken voice telling a monster she had no reason to live because Katsuki didn’t love her anymore. He’d nearly detonated the hospital roof the first time he heard it.
Now he had to sit here, had to nod and offer polite acknowledgements, while her father thanked him for “protecting” her, like Katsuki hadn’t already carved that vow into his bones. He had to lie. Katsuki Bakugou hated lying; it tasted like ash on his tongue. But worse than lying was pretending Rosie wasn’t the epicenter of every pulse his heart managed to muster these days.
Across the table, Shoto cleared his throat. “This place offers buckwheat blended with wild yam flour,” he noted, tapping the menu. “It yields a silkier noodle texture.”
Aizawa nodded, the faintest ghost of a smile gracing his lips. “That sounds acceptable.”
Katsuki blinked back into the present, the tragic sonnet in his head abruptly overdubbed by Todoroki’s Sommelier‑of‑Soba commentary.
“Christ, Icy‑Hot,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. “It’s noodles, not a vintage wine list.”
Shoto raised one brow. “Choosing optimal noodle texture is serious business.”
“Everything’s serious business to you.”
“Incorrect. Only soba and hero work.”
Aizawa’s dry chuckle slid in. “You know, Bakugou, you sound exactly like Iida when you criticize Todoroki’s food philosophy.”
Katsuki choked. “Take that back.”
Shoto glanced between them, then calmly flagged the waitress. “Three orders of wild‑yam soba, one extra chili oil for Bakugou. He needs something spicy to match his personality.”
Katsuki scowled, but the corner of Aizawa’s mouth twitched again, and for a heartbeat, some of the tension leached from Katsuki’s spine. If pretending meant keeping Rosie safe, he would do it. He’d sit here, endure soba symposiums, swallow every lie like glass, and make sure the woman he loved could keep smiling—even if it wasn’t at him. Because protecting her and the beautiful relationship they shared wasn’t just a promise. It was the only truth he had left to cling to as though it was the air he breathed.
Notes:
so yeah um see you in the next one I guess.
Chapter 126: Honestly, I came for the story, stayed for the pelvic mystery.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Blinking hard, Rosie let the memory fade like steam on a mirror. The sharp ache in her chest lingered as she found herself standing in the kitchen, water from the faucet rushing over the forgotten fruit in her hands. The warmth of the memory still clung to her like a second skin, too vivid to ignore. Her hands trembled slightly as she turned the faucet off. A piece of her past—a real piece—had flickered through her like lightning, lighting up everything else she’d been too afraid to name.
She dried her hands on a dish towel with urgency and grabbed her phone. Her fingers hovered for a moment before she punched in the numbers she knew by heart.
Mina answered first, her voice chipper. “Rosieee! What’s up?”
“Can you come over?” Rosie asked, her voice cracking faintly.
There was a pause. “...Of course. Everything okay?”
“Bring Uraraka. And Kirishima, too. Please.”
She hung up before Mina could ask more questions, pacing the kitchen as her heart pounded in her chest. She didn’t know why this moment felt so fragile, only that something in her had shifted, broken open in a way that couldn’t be undone.
It wasn’t long before the buzzer rang.
She opened the door and stepped aside to let them in—Mina first, bright pink hair tied up in a messy bun, wide eyes scanning Rosie for any visible injury. Uraraka followed with a worried expression, and Kirishima stood behind them both, wearing casual jeans and a red T-shirt, his brows furrowed in concern.
“Rosie?” Mina asked, gently. “What’s going on? You okay?”
Rosie nodded, then shook her head. Her throat tightened. She tried to speak but nothing came out. Instead, she pressed her hand over her chest like she could hold the cracking pieces of her heart together. The tears fell before she could stop them. “I remember you,” she whispered.
All three of them froze.
“I… I remember you,” she repeated, louder now, trembling as she reached up to wipe her cheeks. “I remember girls' night. I remember Mina’s glitter bombs and karaoke at Silven’s and how Uraraka always loves sweets. That terrible cake we made when we were drunk. I remember Kirishima taking me out for lunch after classes and asking me to join game nights.”
“Wait—what?” Uraraka gasped.
Rosie nodded quickly, sniffling. “I… it’s not all there. Not everything. But pieces. Fragments. Moments.”
“You remember us?” Mina’s voice cracked before she practically launched across the room.
Rosie let out a breathless laugh-sob as Mina hugged her tight, Kirishima and Uraraka joining in seconds later, all four of them tangled in a crushing, tearful embrace in her living room.
“How much do you remember?” Kirishima asked gently as they pulled back slightly.
“Just glimpses,” Rosie admitted, pressing her palms to her damp cheeks. “Bits and pieces. I don’t remember everything… but it’s like I’m waking up.”
“And the others? You remember anyone else?” Uraraka asked softly.
Rosie shook her head, guilt washing over her. “No. Not everyone. Not yet.”
“That’s okay,” Mina said quickly, brushing her tears away. “That’s okay, Rosie. You’re remembering something. That’s a huge step.”
“I’m so sorry,” Rosie whispered, her voice cracking again. “I’m sorry I forgot you all. I didn’t mean to, I know I went through something horrible, but still it’s no excuse and I’m so sorr—”
“Rosie, stop.” Kirishima gave her a reassuring smile and rested a hand on her shoulder. “There’s nothing to apologize for. What you went through… no one blames you. We’re just glad you’re still here with us.”
“And we’re not going anywhere,” Uraraka added, sniffling a little herself. “No matter what you remember or don’t, because we still remember and regardless we’re still your friends.”
Rosie smiled through her tears, something warm and fragile blooming in her chest. She hadn’t realized how much she missed this—their laughter, their warmth, their familiarity. Even if her mind still hadn’t pieced everything together, her heart remembered.
Rosie pulled on a soft cardigan over her sundress, her eyes still a little red from crying, but her smile brighter than it had been in weeks. Mina had her arm slung around her shoulder like they hadn’t missed a day together, while Uraraka linked her arm with Rosie’s other side. Kirishima followed behind, holding the door open for them with an easy, toothy grin.
“Alright!” Mina chirped. “We are celebrating the return of our long-lost princess to her rightful throne!”
“Mina,” Uraraka laughed, “you make it sound like Rosie died.”
“She did, metaphorically!” Mina insisted, flipping her hair. “She vanished, and now she’s back. Like a magical girl anime arc where the heroine forgets everything and then BAM!—tears, sparkle, memory restored!”
Rosie giggled, pressing a hand to her cheek. “You haven’t changed at all.”
“Neither have you,” Uraraka said, squeezing her arm affectionately.
They took her to a cozy rooftop café not far from Silven’s—somewhere familiar but just quiet enough that it felt like a soft reintroduction to the world. Warm lights were strung overhead, and the gentle sound of city traffic buzzed below as they slid into a booth by the edge of the balcony.
Kirishima handed out menus. “You’re ordering whatever you want. We’re celebrating, remember?”
“Nothing’s off limits,” Mina added. “You want two milkshakes and a burger the size of your face? Say no more.”
Rosie laughed, feeling the tension in her chest ease a little more. “Thank you. I… I needed this.”
As they waited for their food, the conversation turned to everything Rosie had missed over the past two months.
“So,” she asked, stirring her strawberry lemonade, “what have you guys been up to since… well, since I woke up?”
“Well,” Kirishima leaned back in his seat, “I’ve been working full-time as a pro. Still with Fatgum’s agency, but doing more prep-hero solo stuff now. Small patrols, training classes, helping out with some of the newer hero kids. It’s been kinda wild.”
Rosie blinked. “Wait—you’re officially a full-time hero now?”
He beamed. “Yep! Since the semester ended, I made the transition. Still finishin’ up my degree part-time, but I figured I could handle both.”
“That’s amazing,” she smiled at him. “I’m so proud of you.”
He scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks turning a bit red. “Thanks, Rosie.”
“Mina and I are still sidekicks,” Uraraka added. “We’re with Ryukyu’s agency for now. It’s been… intense, but fun! We’ve had a few assignments, nothing too big. Some clean-up ops, a couple of rescues.”
“And some great off days,” Mina said, waggling her brows. “We went to the beach, remember?”
“I got sunburned on my scalp,” Uraraka muttered.
Mina waved her hand. “Details. We had coconut drinks and wore matching coverups. Totally worth it.”
Rosie’s brows rose. “Wait, I missed a beach day?”
“Oh don’t worry,” Mina grinned. “We’ll plan another. You have to come next time. Mandatory. No excuses.”
Kirishima added, “We’ve also just been trying to stay close. Stuff’s been heavy lately, especially with the villains still regrouping.”
“Yeah…” Uraraka looked down briefly. “It’s been quiet but not gone. Just different.”
“But today isn’t about them,” Mina said brightly, snapping her fingers. “Today is about you, Rosie. You remembered us, and we are throwing a party in your honor—rooftop edition.”
Their food came not long after—fries and burgers, sandwiches stacked with fresh ingredients, and smoothies lined up like rainbow-colored toasts to the past. Rosie took a slow breath as they laughed, teased each other, and filled her in on everything they’d done—every mission, every joke, every random late-night donut run she’d missed and for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t feel lost. She felt… home.
Rosie bustled around her apartment like a woman on a mission. Her hair was pulled into a loose braid, a soft pink pajama set clinging to her frame as she flitted from the kitchen to the living room, double-checking everything for the fifth time. Candles flickered on the counters, their soft glow casting a cozy golden hue over the space. The smell of vanilla, strawberries, and something sugary filled the air, mixing with the faint scent of the fresh bouquet she'd placed on the coffee table. The furniture had been pushed aside, a sea of pillows and plush blankets now taking center stage, creating a perfect nest for girl talk, games, and gossip.
Her fridge was stocked with wine coolers and soda, the freezer filled with an embarrassing amount of ice cream—every flavor from triple fudge brownie to caramel. A decadent red velvet and double chocolate fudge cake sat on the kitchen counter, already cut into slices, and several trays of snacks—popcorn, pretzels, mochi bites, and cheese puffs—were arranged with meticulous care.
Maya pranced around excitedly in the living room, her tail wagging like a metronome as she kept pacing from the door to her owner and back again. She knew what tonight meant: all the attention and treats
Then came the knock.
Rosie rushed to the door and flung it open—nearly squealing when she saw Mina, Uraraka, Maerya, Kanako, and Akira all arriving at once, a chaotic flurry of overnight bags, duffels, and tote bags filled with skin care kits and cute pajamas.
“Let the chaos begin!” Mina cheered, already stepping inside and dramatically tossing her glittery tote to the floor.
“I brought face masks!” Uraraka held up a pack of brightly colored sheet masks.
Akira kicked off her shoes. “And I brought magazines, just in case.”
“Your apartment smells like cake,” Kanako muttered approvingly, setting her bag down and immediately heading for the food like a bloodhound.
Maerya smiled softly. “I’m excited about this.”
Rosie’s heart swelled as she watched them pile in, their voices filling the quiet apartment with laughter and excitement. The hallway near the door was quickly overtaken by their bags and shoes, and Maya excitedly trotted up to each girl to receive pets, scratches, and the occasional treat snuck from a pocket.
“I hope you guys are ready,” Rosie said, rubbing her hands together with a mischievous grin. “Because I planned everything.”
“Oh no,” Akira groaned playfully. “She has an itinerary.”
“I do!” Rosie pointed proudly to a mini whiteboard by the kitchen with glittery markers listing:
- Painting Nails (with sparkles encouraged)
- Must Dance Showdown (yes, the game was charged and ready)
- Reality TV Trash Watch – Island of Heartbreak queued and waiting
- The Surprise – marked with a big question mark and a heart
“What’s the surprise?” Mina immediately asked.
Rosie only smirked. “You’ll see.”
The night kicked off with a flurry of nail polish bottles being uncapped, the air smelling of acetone and lavender as the girls took turns painting each other’s nails in pastel shades and glitter. Must Dance followed, resulting in wheezing laughter and accidental collisions as they tried to one-up each other in goofy choreography and wild spins.
Trashy dating TV was next, with all five of them groaning, yelling at the screen, and mocking the contestants while devouring snacks and wine. Rosie found herself curled up between Mina and Uraraka, her heart warm and full. Maya lay across Maerya’s lap like a spoiled princess, snoring softly.
When the moment felt just right, Rosie clapped her hands. “Alright—ready for the surprise?”
There were various murmurs and a dramatic gasp from Mina.
Rosie disappeared into her bedroom and returned holding a medium-sized box, setting it in the middle of the room. She lifted the lid with a flourish, revealing…Custom friendship charm bracelets, each nestled in little silk pouches with their names engraved..
Gasps all around.
“I remembered having them done before everything and found them in my closet, I felt like it made sense to give them since I remember a bit more now,” Rosie said, her voice slightly nervous. “Each charm represents something about you… and us.”
Tears welled up in Uraraka’s eyes as she held hers.
“You dork,” Kanako muttered, but her voice was soft.
“I’m going to cry,” Mina sniffed. “You’re so sweet.”
Rosie smiled shyly as Uraraka leaned in to squeeze her hand. “I’ve missed you,” she said quietly.
“I’ve missed all of you,” Rosie whispered back.
It was a perfect moment—glittery, sweet, loud, and warm. For the first time in what felt like forever, Rosie wasn’t just remembering. She was living it.
Akira clapped her hands suddenly, startling them all. “Alright, up and at ‘em, ladies! I have a surprise, and it requires us to go on a little field trip.”
“Is there a dress code?” Uraraka asked
Akira shook her head, “casual.”
The girls took time getting changed, Rosie changed into jean shorts and a black hoodie with a skull on it that was three sizes too big. She doesn’t know where it came from but it had been under her bed as well.
After they all changed, Rosie locked up her apartment. The girls were all chatting and talking as they rode down the elevator, walked through the lobby and out the doors.
“Now can we get coffee?” Kanako asked as she slung her bag over her shoulder. “I’m running on wine and cake.”
The group all groaned in agreement, and together they filed out of Rosie’s apartment building. Rosie walked in the middle of the group, arms linked with Mina and Uraraka. There was a carefree lightness in the air, the kind she hadn’t felt in a long time, and as they wandered down the sidewalk, the world felt just a little more golden.
They stopped at Ishlamare, it smelled like fresh pastries, cinnamon, and roasted espresso beans the moment they walked in. The barista at the counter gave them a cheerful wave as the bell above the door jingled.
“I’ll get a lavender oat milk latte,” Maerya said dreamily, scanning the pastry case.
“Black coffee, strong enough to kill,” Kanako muttered.
“Cinnamon roll latte for me!” Mina grinned, bouncing on her heels.
Rosie stepped forward and smiled shyly at the barista. “Can I get a caramel iced coffee?”
As they waited for their drinks, the girls claimed a window booth, sunlight spilling over the polished wood as they chatted and admired the little floral arrangements placed at each table. Rosie leaned her chin in her hand, watching them laugh together, warmth blooming in her chest. She didn’t know what Akira’s surprise was yet—but the day already felt like a gift.
Once they had their drinks, Mina insisted on more selfies with their drinks. Akira then lead them out the coffee shop and down the streets. The evening was warm and buzzing with city life, the golden hour light turning everything soft and honeyed as the girls strolled down the sidewalk, drinks in hand and laughter trailing behind them. Rosie sipped her caramel iced coffee, the cool sweetness calming her excited nerves. Her oversized black hoodie hung low on her frame, the skull design faded and vaguely familiar. She didn’t know where it had come from—maybe an old gift?—but it smelled faintly of caramel and smoke and felt like a soft shield against the world.
Mina, still bouncing on caffeine and sugar, looped her arm through Rosie’s again. “Okay, so this hoodie—who did you steal it from?” she teased, eyeing the massive size.
“I didn’t steal it,” Rosie said quickly, cheeks warming. “I found it under my bed.”
Kanako snorted. “That’s exactly what someone who did steal it would say.”
“It does smell like burnt caramel and rage,” Maerya added thoughtfully, sipping her lavender latte.
Akira waved them forward. “Enough hoodie interrogations! We’re almost there.”
“Where’s ‘there’ exactly?” Maerya asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You’ll see,” Akira grinned, leading them around the corner.
They passed a used vinyl shop, a florist whose blooms spilled onto the sidewalk in bursts of color, and an old antique store that always smelled like old books and ghosts. Then finally, Akira came to a stop in front of a charming, slightly weathered bookstore tucked between two buildings like a secret.
The sign above read: The Wandering Page.
Rosie’s eyes lit up. “Oh my god—I’ve been meaning to come here forever!”
“Ta-da!” Akira spun around, her arms spread. “Tonight’s surprise is a field trip… to buy our first official book club book!”
The girls let out a collective squeal that startled a flock of pigeons nearby.
“We’re starting a book club?!” Mina cried.
Akira nodded. “Yup. I figured since Rosie’s been remembering more and bonding with us all again, we should do something cozy and fun together. I was thinking we could all read the same book, talk about it during our sleepovers, text in the group chat… and yes, I already have wine and snacks labeled book club essentials.”
“God, I love you,” Kanako whispered.
They piled into the store, the old wooden floors creaking beneath their feet and the smell of ink and paper wrapping around them like a blanket. The lighting was soft and warm, the shelves tall and slightly crooked with time. A little black cat snoozed on the front counter, only flicking its tail when Rosie passed.
Akira led them straight to the Dark Fantasy/Romance section, her eyes gleaming. “This is our territory now, ladies.”
Within seconds, the chaos began.
“Okay, this one has a brooding cursed prince who turns into a wolf during thunderstorms,” Mina said, waving a paperback with a dramatic cover.
“I want this one!” Kanako cried, holding up a book with an anti-hero vampire holding a bloodied sword. “His name is Lucien Bloodmoor. I mean—Bloodmoor? You know he’s got issues.”
“I found a dragon shifter who runs a bakery,” Uraraka whispered reverently, hugging the book to her chest.
Maerya already had three in her arms. “We are not leaving until I get a morally gray necromancer who does taxes.”
Rosie was drawn to a book with a beautiful, velvety black cover titled The Shadow Between Stars. A haunting castle on the front, and a girl in red with a sword in one hand and a glowing heart in the other. She didn’t even read the summary. She knew.
“This is the one,” she said aloud.
The girls all gathered, their arms full of ridiculous, spicy, and deeply unhinged romance fantasies.
Akira grabbed a copy of Rosie’s pick and passed one to each of them. “This is our book club read. The Shadow Between Stars. But also… I’m buying all of your extras. My treat. You know—for friendship. And chaos.”
“No! You can’t—” Rosie started.
“Too late,” Akira said, marching toward the register. “It’s already done.”
“God, I’m gonna owe you so much therapy when we read these spicy ones out loud,” Kanako muttered.
“I heard this one has a knife-to-throat scene,” Mina wiggled her eyebrows. “So I am emotionally ready.”
As they all checked out, arms full of books and hearts full of affection, Rosie couldn’t stop smiling. She hadn’t felt this included—this whole—since she woke up. A book club. With the people who made her laugh until her stomach hurt. This was her new chapter.
It was 1:03 a.m., and the living room looked like the aftermath of a glittery, sugar-fueled storm. There were half-eaten slices of cake abandoned on mismatched plates, wine glasses tipped sideways into pillows, and throw blankets tangled in every direction. The only light came from the fairy lights strung along the curtain rod and the flickering flames of a nearly burned-out candle that smelled like vanilla and scandal.
Mina was on her back on the floor, a pillow tucked beneath her lower back and her legs pointed dramatically into the air. “Okay—okay—listen to this: ‘He hoisted her up with one arm, impaling her on his length as her back hit the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist like a velvet vice—’ Girl, I’m sorry, but what is this man’s core strength? Who is he, All Might?!”
Kanako, half-curled in a papasan chair with a mouthful of red velvet cake, snorted. “He’s not even winded! Meanwhile, I get tired bringing groceries up one flight of stairs.”
Uraraka blinked down at her book, turning the page slowly like it had personally offended her. “Wait, her legs are where?”
“She’s fully suspended!” Mina cried, flailing her legs a little higher. “And he’s just thrusting her into the drywall like he’s trying to break through it.”
Akira wiped tears from her eyes from laughing. “We need a diagram.”
“No,” Maerya said, raising her glass of rosé. “We need an exorcist. This chapter is unholy.”
Rosie, curled on the floor in a giant hoodie and polka-dot pajama shorts, was beet red as she stared down at her copy of The Shadow Between Stars. “How did she even get wet during a hostage negotiation?!”
“She’s multitasking,” Kanako replied. “Queen behavior.”
Maerya stretched her legs across Akira’s lap and flipped another page. “It gets worse. Or better, depending on how many glasses of wine you’ve had. Listen: ‘He spun her around like a waltz, bent her over the stone altar, and entered her with the force of prophecy itself.’”
Mina dropped her legs to the floor and sat bolt upright. “WHAT. Force of prophecy?! What does that even mean?!”
“I think I saw that position in yoga class,” Uraraka said, frowning and flipping her book sideways. “But, like, how is he still inside her while turning her?”
“Do you want me to act it out?” Mina offered, already trying to grab a pillow to use as a partner. “I’ve been training for this moment my whole life.”
“Absolutely,” Kanako deadpanned, “please demonstrate the divine thrust.”
Mina stumbled into a low squat, hands on the floor, and tried to rotate mid-thrust before toppling over sideways into the carpet.
Rosie was crying with laughter now, clinging to her wine glass like it might save her. “Stop, stop, I can’t breathe—!”
“This is the best book club ever,” Akira wheezed.
Maerya gave her an approving toast. “Honestly, I came for the story, stayed for the pelvic mystery.”
“Okay, okay,” Kanako flipped her book back open. “Now we’re getting into forbidden blood-bond soul-meld orgasmic communion territory. Anyone wanna guess how many metaphors for cum she can fit into one sentence?”
“Moonlight nectar,” Mina guessed.
“Sacred elixir,” said Maerya.
“Dawn’s first bloom,” Akira offered.
Uraraka looked horrified. “...Please say you’re joking.”
Rosie squeaked, blushing as she read aloud, “‘He spilled inside her like the tide crashing over a moonlit shore—’”
“Bingo!” Kanako shouted.
The room dissolved into cackles, Mina throwing a pillow, Maerya dramatically fanning herself with her book, and Akira howling with laughter into a cupcake.
Rosie, tears in her eyes, smiled so hard her cheeks hurt. This—this beautiful chaos—was everything she never knew she missed. Her friends, their ridiculous commentary, wine-stained lips, and the sound of pure, ridiculous joy echoing into the early hours of the morning.
Who needed sleep when you had friendship, fantasy smut, and pelvic puzzles?
The next morning came in slow, like a fog rolling across the sea.
Rosie blinked awake with the sunlight piercing through the cracks in the curtains. Her head pounded softly—not painfully, but just enough to remind her that wine had been a close and dangerous friend the night before. Around her, the living room was a minefield of blankets, wine glasses, crumpled tissues, and books with bent spines and hastily dog-eared pages opened to pages with phrases like “moonlit shore” and “divine pressure.”
Groaning softly, she sat up and looked around. Uraraka was curled up on the couch with Maya lying across her legs, snoring softly. Mina was buried beneath a pile of throw pillows, one arm hanging off the couch like she was dramatically surrendering. Kanako was already up, hair pulled into a messy ponytail, sipping water as she stood at the kitchen counter scrolling on her phone.
Akira was emerging from the bathroom with her hair in a towel and a toothbrush in her mouth. “Brunch?” she mumbled around the brush.
“Yes,” Rosie croaked, holding her temples. “God, yes. I need pancakes, eggs. Greasy ones.”
Soon, everyone was upright—mostly. They all got dressed in casual brunch outfits: oversized sunglasses, messy buns, jean shorts, and hoodies that still smelled vaguely like vanilla candles and scandalous books. Rosie threw on a crimson cropped hoodie and black shorts, dragging a brush through her hair before twisting it into a loose bun.
By the time they left the apartment and piled into two separate Ubers, the group was more awake, buzzing softly with tired giggles and complaints about their hangovers.
They arrived at Willow & Whisk, a cozy brunch café with an outdoor patio strung with fairy lights and ivy-covered fences. The scent of fresh waffles, bacon, and espresso wafted into the warm morning air. Rosie adjusted her sunglasses and turned toward the hostess when—
“Oi.”
She froze, blinking. The guys were standing near the front gate—Izuku, Kirishima, Katsuki, Shoto, Shinso, and Shoji—all of them looking slightly out of place in their too-clean-for-this-hour outfits.
Izuku grinned and waved. “Uraraka texted us the brunch location.”
Rosie’s mouth parted slightly as she looked at them, then back at the girls. “We invited them?”
“I may have…” Uraraka smiled sheepishly. “I thought it’d be nice!”
“It’s either brunch with us or sleep,” Mina added with a grin. “And I like chaos.”
With some rearranging, the long table was set. The group was seated in pairs—comfortable, familiar, a little flirty.
Izuku immediately made a beeline for the seat beside Uraraka, gently scooting her mimosa over for her like a gentleman. She blushed and smiled, leaning into his shoulder as he kissed her forehead and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
Kirishima slid in beside Mina, bumping her shoulder playfully. “I saw your story last night. You really tried to do a wall-spinning thrust?”
“I nailed it,” she said proudly, flipping open the brunch menu.
Shoto took the seat beside Akira, nodding politely as he asked her if she was still recovering from the “literary sins” of last night.
“I’ll never look at altars the same way again,” Akira deadpanned.
Shinso sat beside Kanako, smirking faintly. “I brought painkillers if you’re regretting wine choices.”
“I regret every wine choice,” she muttered, reaching for his offered water bottle gratefully after pecking him on the cheek.
Shoji sat with Maerya, who perked up as he complimented her choice of hoodie, after introducing himself. And Katsuki? He dropped into the chair beside Rosie with a grunt, arms crossed and eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. He looked like a rockstar with a migraine.
“You look terrible,” she commented with a sweet smile.
“I feel terrible,” he growled back, then snorted. “You look like shit.”
Rosie rolled her eyes, passed him a menu. “Here. Order the greasy stuff. You’ll survive.”
He muttered something incoherent but took the menu, the corners of his lips twitching faintly.
The table buzzed with life—clinking glasses, shared plates of hash browns, and mimosas being passed around. They teased each other, recapped the night before (with many dramatic reenactments of Mina’s failed book positions), and groaned over the secondhand embarrassment of what they’d read aloud.
Izuku beamed at everyone like a proud golden retriever. “This is nice.”
Rosie nodded, sipping her iced coffee. “Yeah. I missed this. I’ll do my best to regain my memories, to remember all the memories I have forgotten.”
Rosie had just finished her sentence when she turned toward Katsuki, her eyes bright, cheeks flushed with the soft glow of morning sunlight, and her iced coffee clutched between her hands. He was sitting beside her, hunched forward with his elbows on the table and scowl firmly in place. His plate was already half-cleared—eggs demolished, toast bitten clean through, and his stack of pancakes practically glistening under the syrup.
“Hey, grump,” she whispered, nudging him gently with her elbow. “You didn’t say anything. Did you miss this too?”
He gave her a side-eye, brow twitching. “Tch. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, would I?”
Rosie giggled, leaning her cheek into her palm, all soft and warm smiles. “You know, for someone who’s supposedly all scowl and explosions, you’re kind of a softie.”
He glared harder. “Keep talkin’ and I’ll show you just how not soft I am.”
Her laughter bubbled up like champagne, sweet and unbothered. “Promises, promises.”
Katsuki growled low in his throat but turned back to his plate.
Rosie, mischievous sparkle in her eyes, reached out and stole a bite of his pancakes, dragging her fork across the syrup-drenched corner before popping it into her mouth.
“You’ve got your own food,” he grunted.
“Yeah, but yours tastes better.” She chewed happily.
He gave her a half-hearted glare but didn’t stop her. When she reached over again—not for food this time, but for his water, Katsuki’s brow furrowed deeper.
“You drank all of yours already?” he muttered.
She just nodded, sheepish. “I got excited. I like brunch, okay?”
She drank from his glass, leaving a perfect smudge of cherry lip gloss on the rim. She didn’t notice—until Katsuki picked it up again, looked right at the mark, and drank from the same exact spot.
Rosie blinked. “Did you just—?”
He glanced at her sideways, tongue slipping out to run slowly over his bottom lip. “Tastes sweet.”
She froze.
“Cherry?”
She nodded quickly, heat rushing to her cheeks. “Yeah, um—cherry.”
He stared at her for a long, quiet moment, before his voice dropped low. “Strawberry suits you more.”
She blinked at him, flustered beyond saving now, and her hand twitched toward her own plate. Before she could say anything more, Katsuki suddenly reached out and grasped her chin with two fingers, tilting her face up to him. Her eyes widened, lips parting, heart fluttering hard in her chest.
Was he about to kiss he—?
Then, in one smooth, smirking motion, he swiped his syrup-covered thumb across her bottom lip.
Rosie squeaked. “Katsuki!”
He let go of her and turned right back to his pancakes without missing a beat. “Now we’re even, dumbass.”
Rosie wiped her mouth with a napkin, glaring—but her smile, shy and flustered was barely concealed. Her cheeks burning a shade too close to the pink gloss she’d carefully applied that morning. Her heart was still rattling in her chest, and her hands trembled ever so slightly from the sudden, intimate gesture.
Katsuki, however, sat there like he hadn’t just wiped syrup on her mouth with his thumb. His fork stabbed into another piece of pancake as if nothing had happened, but the smug tilt of his lips said otherwise.
Rosie narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re being weird.”
He raised an eyebrow at her, feigning innocence. “What? Can’t handle a little attention, sweetheart?”
Her eyes widened at the nickname, the way it slipped out of his mouth—low, deliberate, and wrapped in that husky arrogance of his. “W-what attention?”
He leaned back lazily in his seat, arm slung over the back of her chair like he owned the damn booth, and just gave her a crooked grin.
“You tell me. You’re the one stealin’ bites off my plate and drinkin’ from my glass.”
She flustered even harder, ears burning. “Only because you weren’t drinking it!” she defended weakly, pushing some toast around her plate with her fork. “And your food looked better!”
His eyes glinted. “So you admit you were staring at my plate.”
She groaned and dropped her forehead into her hand. “You’re impossible.”
He chuckled under his breath, leaning in closer until she could feel his breath tickle the curve of her jaw. “A common phrase you use when we’re together.”
Rosie straightened up instantly, her face bright red as her eyes darted to his, only to realize how close he’d gotten. His thigh brushed hers under the table. His grin was confident, that rare teasing side of Katsuki surfacing with all its devastating charm.
She stammered, trying to regain her footing. “Eat your food.”
He arched a brow. “Why? You just gonna steal it again?”
She huffed and stabbed her fork into a piece of scrambled egg from her plate, thrusting it toward him. “Here. Eat mine then.”
Katsuki didn’t even blink. He leaned forward and took the bite right from the fork, lips brushing the tines as he locked eyes with her. Rosie nearly dropped the fork. Her hand trembled slightly, and she immediately looked away, trying to calm her racing heart.
“Not bad,” he muttered. “Yours tastes like it’s got cheese and syrup.”
“It does,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Without a word, Katsuki pushed his water glass toward her. Rosie blinked. “What—?”
“Drink. You’re red like hell. You’ll overheat.”
She squinted at him suspiciously, but took the glass. “You’re being nice.”
“Don’t make a fuckin’ scene about it,” he muttered, but there was no heat in his voice. Only something softer. Fonder.
Rosie drank, once again leaving a cherry lip print on the rim, and this time, he noticed. His eyes dipped to the mark, then back to her. That smug smirk returned.
Before she could say anything else, he flagged down the server with one lifted hand. “Another side of eggs and sausage. For her.”
Rosie gawked at him. “I didn’t say I wanted more—!”
“You were eyeballing your plate like it wasn’t enough,” he muttered, avoiding her eyes now as he went back to poking his pancakes. “So just take it.”
She stared at him, flustered and breathless, biting back a smile as warmth bloomed across her chest.
Around them, the brunch table was buzzing—conversations, laughter, clinking plates. But Rosie and Katsuki? Oblivious. Caught in a quiet, charged bubble of soft bickering and tender gestures disguised as complaints.
“Omg,” Mina whispered from across the table, nudging Uraraka, “they’re flirting.”
“They always flirt even before she lost her memories,” Uraraka said, eyes wide. “They just don’t realize it.”
Katsuki took another bite, glancing sideways at Rosie and watching her flustered smile with a quiet satisfaction. She stole another piece of sausage from his plate. He didn’t stop her.
Mina whispered to Uraraka with a smirk, “Twenty bucks says they’re dating before she gets her memories back.”
“Twenty they date after,” Uraraka replied, giggling.
“Count me for forty on them before her memories return,” Akira said with a mouthful of pancake
“Count me in!” Maerya stated
Notes:
hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I know I do💖 lemme know your thoughts and I’ll see you in the next one🤭
Chapter 127: Yeah, that man is a walking thirst trap and doesn’t even know it.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie wiped the sweat from her brow and took another long drink of her water, her body stretching in satisfaction after placing the last cardboard box inside Akira’s brand-new apartment. The afternoon sun spilled through the tall windows, casting golden warmth across the hardwood floors. The place was still bare, with only scattered boxes and temporary furniture here and there, but it already had that new-apartment charm—echoing with laughter, clinking bottles, and the steady thud of boots across the floor.
Akira stood in the center of the living room, looking around with hands on her hips. “So what’s next on my list?” she mused, ticking off on her fingers. “School? Check. Apartment? Check. Job? Need one. Car? Definitely need one—but for that, I gotta get my license here. So…” She sighed and ran a hand through her messy hair. “That’ll be a thing.”
“Where would you like this one?” Monoma asked as he stepped inside, balancing a large box labeled CLOTHES .
“Bedroom, please,” Akira said, flashing him a sweet smile and planting a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks again for helping me, babe.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, smirking slightly as he disappeared down the hallway.
Izuku appeared next, carefully carrying two boxes stacked on top of each other labeled BOOKS , followed by Kirishima and Shoto, both visibly tired but cheerful. They had all offered to help after Akira had excitedly announced her move at brunch last week.
“How much more do you think we have left?” Rosie asked, flexing her fingers with a tired huff.
“Last box,” came a gruff voice behind her.
She turned just in time to see Katsuki walking in, a cardboard box tucked under one muscular arm. BOOKS, it read in black sharpie. He bent slightly to set it down next to the others, and Rosie choked mid-sip of her water, coughing as she tried to recover.
He wore a fitted black t-shirt that clung to the contours of his body like it was tailored just for him—broad shoulders, muscular chest, biceps stretching the sleeves just enough to draw the eye. His jeans were worn at the knees, hanging low on his hips, and his scuffed boots thudded against the floor as he moved. Tattoos decorated his entire left arm, curling in elegant black lines down to his forearm, and Rosie couldn’t help but stare. Again.
Why is he still single? she wondered, heart skipping. It made no sense. He was hot. Like, unfairly, obnoxiously hot. Grumpy and intense, yes—but that only made him more magnetic. The way his eyes narrowed when he was thinking. The way he scowled but still showed up every single time someone needed him. The strength in his arms. The easy, casual power in his stance, and the sheer mass of him.
She traced the line of his jaw with her gaze, admiring the faint stubble there, before her attention was drawn—unintentionally—to the flex of his shoulders beneath that shirt as he stretched his neck and muttered something under his breath.
Rosie swallowed again. Yeah, that man is a walking thirst trap and doesn’t even know it. Or worse—he does know it.
Before her thoughts could spiral any further, Kirishima walked back into the room, sweat glistening on his forehead. “Hey! Since that’s the last of it, what do you guys say we grab food? I’m starving.”
“Best idea I’ve heard all day,” Akira said, clapping her hands with a bright grin. “I’m buying for everyone as a thank you for helping me move!”
There was a chorus of cheers and agreements, and Rosie, still slightly flushed, quietly reached for her bag—forcing herself not to glance again at Katsuki. But of course, she felt his eyes on her anyway.
The restaurant was buzzing with warmth, soft lights twinkling overhead like stars as dishes clinked, laughter rang out, and the delicious smell of grilled meats and fried appetizers wafted through the air. Rosie sat between Akira and Izuku, half-listening as the guys animatedly shared stories from some of their recent Pro Hero assignments.
“So I’m pinned under a concrete beam,” Kirishima said, leaning forward dramatically, “and this guy, this total rookie, is trying to lift it with his back like we’re in some kind of shonen anime!”
Izuku nearly spit out his drink. “Oh my god, you’re still on about that! He was trying to help!”
Katsuki scoffed, arms crossed. “Trying to get himself killed, more like. Idiot nearly dropped the damn thing on Red’s face.”
Shoto, seated on the other side of Rosie, reached for a dumpling and said flatly, “He screamed like a child when the support beam cracked.”
That sent the whole table into laughter. Rosie giggled behind her hand, cheeks warm with joy. This —this feeling of being surrounded by her friends again—felt really good.
Shoto turned to her, voice quiet but curious. “Did you sign up for next semester’s classes?”
She blinked, nodding. “Yeah. Just last week. I’ll be taking art and media classes. Nothing too intense.”
“I’m in ethics and civic duty again,” Shoto added with a grimace. “King Orca teaches the lecture now.”
“Oh hell no,” Akira blurted. “I refuse. I would rather take philosophy and debate with Monoma.”
“You say that like it’s worse,” Monoma muttered from where he sat with his arm around Akira’s chair.
Akira ignored him. “Anyway,” she chirped, straightening with her glass of soda in hand. “We need one last hurrah before school starts. Beach day. No arguments.”
Everyone seemed to perk up at the suggestion—except Rosie, who hesitated, poking at the rim of her water glass with her nail. “Maybe I’ll sit this one out,” she said softly.
Akira’s brow furrowed. “What? Why?”
Rosie offered a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know… just not really feeling it.”
“You’re going ,” Akira said flatly, not missing a beat. “End of discussion.”
The moment passed with a wave of teasing and excited chatter, but Katsuki had been watching her—quiet and thoughtful.
Later, as they exited the restaurant and strolled through the night air, stars flickering overhead, Rosie found herself walking behind the group. Katsuki had naturally fallen into step beside her, silent for a beat before finally asking: “What’s your deal with not wanting to go?”
She sighed, hugging her arms across her chest. “It’s embarrassing.”
He grunted. “Spit it out.”
She hesitated, then, in a rush of breath, muttered, “I have a scar and it’s ugly. I don’t know how I got it but…”
They stopped walking. The others kept going, their laughter drifting ahead like music, completely unaware. Rosie stared down at the sidewalk, cheeks hot.
Katsuki’s voice was low, rough with both annoyance and something gentler underneath. “You’re acting ridiculous.”
Her head snapped up. “Excuse me?”
He glared at her, jaw tight. “You think you’re the only one with scars? That you’re the only one who looks in the mirror and remembers shit you’d rather forget?”
“I didn’t say that—”
“Then stop acting like it,” he snapped. “Everyone’s got something. Yours doesn’t make you broken. Doesn’t make you ugly. It just means you lived through something.” He stepped closer, eyes narrowing. “So stop treating it like something to hide.”
Her breath hitched, taken aback. “You’re being mean about it.”
“Damn right I am,” he said, voice still sharp but softer now, almost strained. “Because it pisses me off that you’d think less of yourself over something that doesn’t change how anyone sees you.”
Her heart flipped violently in her chest. “Katsuki…”
He sighed, finally breaking eye contact, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re not fragile, Rosie.”
She stood still, stunned and flustered. That odd fluttery feeling in her stomach was growing louder, more impossible to ignore. Her fingers fidgeted at her sides.
“...Okay,” she whispered, voice small but sincere.
He looked at her then, really looked, and there was something soft in his expression beneath the usual scowl. Something quiet like… understanding.
“Good,” he muttered, then shoved his hands into his pockets. “Now hurry up, dumbass. You’re gonna fall behind.”
Rosie bit back a smile and jogged to match his pace, her heart still thudding in her chest. He didn’t say anything else—but the silence between them felt warm and comforting. Even if he was a total grump, Katsuki Bakugou had a funny way of talking with her despite not wanting to be friends with her.
What was his deal?
Rosie chewed the inside of her cheek as they walked, stealing a glance at Katsuki beside her. He wasn’t saying anything, as usual—just walking with his hands stuffed in his pockets, jaw tense and brows drawn like he was deep in some internal war.
He didn’t treat her like everyone else did.
There were no gentle voices with him, no sugar-coated reassurances. No tight smiles or pitying looks. He never reached for her like she’d shatter. He never hesitated to say exactly what he thought—blunt, sharp-edged truth delivered like a slap to the face. Sometimes it stung. Sometimes it lit a fire in her chest. But every time… it made her feel more real than she had in a long time.
Everyone else tiptoed around her like she was made of glass. But not him. He treated her like a human—messy and flawed and whole. She didn’t have to be perfect or healed around him. She just had to be herself .
And that’s what confused her the most.
Because for all his biting words and short temper, he was still… there. Despite saying, more than once, that he could never be friends with her. That he didn’t want to be close to her. That he didn’t care. Yet he was always around. Always watching. Always keeping an eye on her from across the room like it was second nature. Always showing up to walk her home or drop off something she forgot. He’d grumble about it, scowl the whole time—but he did it.
He always talked to her—even if it was to tease or argue. He remembered things she said in passing. Brought her water without asking when she overworked herself. Made sure she ate when she was too distracted. Protected her like it was a reflex. Treated her like she mattered .
And maybe that’s what confused her most of all.
Why did he treat her this way? Why say they couldn’t be friends and then turn around and act like this? Why give her pieces of himself in fleeting glances and rare, careful gestures—only to shut her out the moment she tried to get closer?
Was it just Katsuki being Katsuki? Or… was he pushing her away? And if so— why? Was she a painful reminder of something? Was she someone he didn’t want to care about, but couldn’t help it? Did she bother him that much… or did she mean something?
She didn’t know. And the not-knowing—it gnawed at her.
But as the wind picked up and ruffled her hair, as Katsuki silently nudged her hood up over her head before she could even think to do it herself, she realized one thing with a sudden thud in her chest. Whatever this was—whatever he was to her—he was the only one who made her feel like she hadn’t lost herself completely.
Then she frowned, shaking her head.
She was overthinking and looking too much into things. Katsuki had told her that he was just looking after her well being because her dad was his mentor growing up. He didn’t really care. It was just him paying respects to her Dad, nothing more and nothing less.
Rosie held Maya gently in her lap as Shoto drove them toward the beach, the sun casting golden streaks across the windshield. Maya had her tongue out, panting excitedly, her tail flicking back and forth in anticipation. Rosie hummed softly to herself, sunglasses perched on her nose and a straw sunhat angled low over her brows. The ocean breeze teased the edges of her sundress as they pulled into the parking lot of the beach house, the sound of waves crashing just barely audible in the distance.
“Thanks again for driving me,” she said brightly as she stepped out of the car, her wedge sandals crunching against the gravel. She adjusted the strap of her tote on her shoulder, smiling warmly at him.
“You’re welcome,” Shoto replied in his usual calm tone, already moving to the trunk of the car. He effortlessly hauled out her suitcase along with his own, then slung her tote bag over his shoulder without a word.
“I’m really excited,” she said, rocking on the balls of her feet as she looked toward the rental house. “It’s my first time really hanging out with everyone again now that I’ve started remembering more.”
“Just… try not to push yourself too hard,” Shoto said, glancing at her from beneath the fringe of his two-toned hair. “You don’t have to prove anything.”
Rosie gave a soft nod, her smile turning gentle. “Understood, Mr. Ice-and-Concern.”
He didn’t reply, but there was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth as he turned toward the house.
The beach house was beautiful and sun-drenched, with big windows, an expansive deck, and driftwood accents along the siding. The second Rosie opened the front door and stepped inside, she was hit by the coolness of the AC and the cozy scent of salt, sunscreen, and citrus cleaner.
Maya yipped with excitement and wriggled out of Rosie’s arms, her little paws skittering across the hardwood floors. She immediately began rubbing her side along the edge of the couch, flopping dramatically onto the rug and rolling, tail wagging like a metronome.
“Claiming the furniture already?” Rosie giggled, watching Maya run in a loop and vanish down the hallway in a blur of white and pink.
“Some of the others already arrived earlier,” Shoto said as he walked past her with their luggage. “You’re sharing a room with Maerya and Momo—second door on the left upstairs.”
“Perfect! Thank you,” Rosie said, following him for a few steps before peeling off toward the back deck, drawn by the sound of voices and laughter drifting through the open sliding glass door.
She stepped outside into the sun and immediately spotted Kirishima and Iida standing beside a large grill, both mid-argument with matching hand gestures.
“No, no, no—you never press down on the steak with the spatula!” Kirishima insisted, tongs in hand.
“That’s how you ensure even cooking!” Iida said earnestly, gesturing like he was giving a lecture.
“You’re squeezing the juice out! The soul of the meat, man!”
Rosie covered her mouth to stifle a laugh, slipping past them and heading toward the patio couches. Near the edge of the deck, four of the guys were lounging with beers in hand, deep in discussion. Izuku was animatedly talking about a joint mission he'd worked with Best Jeanist, while Shinso listened with quiet amusement. Shoji nodded along, occasionally interjecting with his usual thoughtful remarks, and Tokoyami sipped his drink in brooding silence before finally muttering something poetic about “shadows and surveillance drones.”
On the opposite side of the deck, Mina, Uraraka, Tsuyu, Kanako, and Momo were sprawled across lounge chairs and cushioned seats. Bright, fruity-colored cocktails sat on the side table, each with little umbrellas or sliced fruit tucked into the rim.
“Okay but listen—if you give me another drink, I will start dancing,” Mina declared, holding up her mango daiquiri.
“Isn’t that what we want?” Uraraka grinned.
“You guys are so loud,” Tsui commented dryly, though her eyes sparkled with amusement.
“I love it,” Kanako sighed, adjusting her sunglasses.
Rosie couldn’t help but pause for a moment and take it all in—the laughter, the breeze, the low sizzle of the grill and the murmur of conversation. It was warm and chaotic and comforting. Her heart swelled in her chest as she stepped further into the light, grateful for this imperfect, rowdy little piece of her life returning.
“Rosieeee!” Mina squealed as she caught sight of her. She shot to her feet in a flurry of pink and sunshine, nearly spilling her drink. “You have to try this. I swear it tastes like a creamsicle mixed with sin.”
Before Rosie could protest, Uraraka joined in, holding out her own drink—a pale peach concoction with a glittering sugar rim. “Mine too! Come on, Rosie. Taste test!”
Suddenly, both drinks were shoved toward her, nearly brushing her lips.
“Okay, okay!” Rosie laughed, taking Mina’s first and sipping delicately. Her brows lifted in surprise. “Oh wow, that’s dangerously good.”
“Told you!” Mina beamed.
She took a sip of Uraraka’s next and hummed. “This one tastes like it could ruin my life.”
“That’s why it’s my favorite,” Uraraka winked.
Rosie settled onto the cushioned lounger between them, already feeling the light warmth of the sun and the drinks settle in her bones. The girls started chatting—casual updates, new favorite skincare products, shows they were watching, which pro hero was trending on HeroNet.
“So, where’s everyone else?” Rosie asked between laughs, swirling the melting ice in her drink.
“Some of the guys went ahead to claim our spot down at the beach,” Momo answered from her seat, brushing her dark hair over her shoulder.
“They also took our things ahead with them,” Kanako added, already reapplying sunscreen to her shoulders. “They’ll probably stake out a whole fortress of umbrellas.”
Rosie smiled, the thought of the guys trying to organize beach towels and sun umbrellas making her heart swell a bit. “So we’ll be heading down soon?”
“We’re just waiting on the rest to get here,” Tsui replied, reaching lazily for a slice of watermelon. “Then we’ll all go down together.”
Rosie blinked, curious. “Who else are we waiting on?”
Before Tsui could answer, the sliding glass door creaked open behind them.
Shoto stepped out first, holding Rosie’s black tote bag by the handles with casual efficiency. “I figured you’d want this,” he said simply, handing it to her.
“Thanks, Shoto,” Rosie said, grateful as she took the bag and set it by her feet.
Behind him, Kaminari came bounding out in a tank top and swim shorts, already mid-sentence, “I’m just saying! If it came down to survival in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, I’d be the one leading the squad!”
Katsuki followed a step behind, clearly already at the end of his patience. “The fuck you would. You’d be the first one eaten because you can’t shut the hell up.”
Kaminari placed a hand to his chest, offended. “Rude!”
“Keep talkin’ and I’ll make sure you drown before you even hit the sand.”
Rosie watched them with a mix of amusement as she tried to hide her smile. Kaminari scrambled away dramatically, and Katsuki stormed over to one of the drink coolers, popping the top off a bottle of water with his thumb.
“I see the cavalry has arrived,” Kanako muttered under her breath with a grin.
Rosie bit her lip to keep from laughing, her eyes trailing briefly over Katsuki’s broad shoulders and the subtle sheen of sweat that clung to his t-shirt. Despite the bickering, something about seeing him in that wild, loud chaos settled something quiet in her chest.
He glanced her way briefly, his eyes flickering across her sunglasses, the tilt of her sunhat, the corner of her lips—before quickly looking away again with a low grunt. Rosie smiled softly, hugging her tote to her chest.
Rosie stretched her arms over her head as she lay on her pink beach towel under the wide umbrella’s shade, the fabric hot against her skin despite the cover. Her red bikini, dotted with tiny black hearts, hugged her curves snugly, and she wiggled her toes in the warm sand. Her sunglasses shielded her eyes from the afternoon sun, and her floppy hat rested low on her forehead, casting a soft shadow across her face. Just a few feet away, Maya was hard at work digging a chaotic little crater in the sand. The white poodle had her own sunhat perched comically atop her head and a tiny pair of pink-framed doggy sunglasses that somehow stayed put as she enthusiastically flung sand behind her with her paws. Occasionally, she would bark at the hole, spin in a circle, and then go right back to digging as if the task were of critical importance.
“Is she building her own hot tub?” Maerya mused, laying beside Rosie in a sleek black bikini, her book open in one hand as she watched the little dog with a lazy smirk.
“Maybe,” Rosie giggled, shifting to her side and sipping from the chilled bottle of water beside her. “Or she’s looking for buried treasure. Either way, she’s serious about it.”
Uraraka gave a sleepy hum from Rosie’s other side, her wide-brimmed white sunhat tilted to one side and her polka-dotted blue bikini already dotted with fine grains of sand. “She’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. I’d die for Maya.”
“She knows,” Maerya said with a grin. “And she’s using it.”
They all laughed, then quieted again, lulled by the gentle roar of waves and the distant shrieks and laughter of the others. Out near the shoreline, Izuku, Katsuki, Kaminari, Kirishima, and Shoto were wrestling in the surf. Katsuki had just tackled Kaminari into the water with a loud splash while Kirishima laughed and cheered them on. Izuku stood laughing helplessly as Shoto calmly dunked him with one hand. Farther up the sand, Mina, Momo, Jirou, Toru, and Kanako were deep in an intense game of beach volleyball, the ball soaring between the two makeshift teams as sand kicked up around their feet and loud cheers rang out.
Maerya tucked her book under her arm and sighed. “So, next week—shopping?”
Rosie lit up. “Yes! I’ve been wanting to go shopping for the new school year.”
“You’re in luck,” Maerya smiled. “I just donated half my closet and I need replacements before school starts. I refuse to walk onto campus without turning a couple of heads.”
“Should we invite Kanako?” Rosie asked.
“Only if you want brutal fashion honesty in a five-foot package.”
Rosie snorted. “I do.”
Just then, footsteps padded across the sand and Kaminari popped into view with a crooked grin, water dripping from his messy blond hair. “Ladies!” he greeted with a dramatic bow. “You’re missing out! The water’s perfect!”
Izuku appeared beside him, breathless and smiling. “Come swim with us!”
“I second that!” Kirishima called as he jogged up, towel slung around his neck. His grin was bright as always. “C’mon, the water feels amazing.”
Uraraka perked up, already dusting the sand off her legs. “I’m in!” she said cheerfully, hopping to her feet as she tossed her sunglasses and hat into her tote bag.
Maerya glanced at Rosie and raised a brow. “You going?”
Rosie shook her head lightly, stretching again as she rolled onto her back. “Not just yet. I’m still defrosting from the air conditioning in the car.”
“Same here,” Maerya agreed, sipping from her sparkling water. “I’m on full goddess mode right now. Reclining and radiating.”
“You two are missing out,” Kirishima grinned before jogging back to the waves.
“Call me when it’s time for drinks and snacks,” Maerya called after him.
Rosie leaned back on her elbows, her gaze drifting to the boys roughhousing in the ocean and the girls dancing around the volleyball net. A breeze caught her hair, and she smiled softly. The sun had risen to its midday peak, bathing the beach in golden warmth. Rosie stayed reclined beneath the umbrella with Maerya, both girls lazily sipping from their waters and chatting about everything and nothing while Maya continued to tunnel her way toward the earth’s core a few feet away.
“I think I need those sandals we saw in that boutique last week,” Maerya said, shielding her eyes with her arm. “The ones with the gold chain straps.”
“Oh, you’d look so good in those,” Rosie grinned, propping herself up on her elbows again. “But also, should we go for a matching set? Is that too much?”
“I vote coordinated chaos,” Maerya replied with a smirk.
Before Rosie could respond, footsteps squelched through the wet sand in front of them. She glanced up to see Katsuki and Shoji approached, both dripping wet and radiating smug energy. Katsuki’s hair clung to his forehead in unruly spikes, water dripping down his neck and chest, while Shoji gave them both a calm wave.
“Hey, dumbass,” Katsuki said, nudging Rosie’s foot with his. “Toss me a water.”
Rosie rolled her eyes but reached over to the cooler and tossed him a bottle, which he caught one-handed with a grunt of thanks. She threw another one to Shoji, who caught it more gracefully and gave her a small nod in appreciation.
As she laid back down, Rosie closed her eyes—only to let out a shriek a second later as a cold downpour splashed across her body. “Katsuki!” she screeched, bolting upright.
The smug jerk was standing there, shaking like a golden retriever, flinging water in all directions—mostly on her.
“Quit it!” she whined, swiping at her damp chest and glaring at him, cheeks flushed. “You’re getting my towel wet!”
“You need to get in the water anyway,” he smirked, taking another swig from his bottle.
“I don’t want to,” she huffed, folding her arms with a dramatic flair. “I’m warm. I’m comfortable. Leave me be.”
“Seconded,” Maerya said without even opening her eyes. “You’ll have to drag me in there.”
Katsuki grinned like a feral wolf. “Say less.”
Before Rosie could react, he bent down and scooped her up effortlessly, slinging her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Katsuki Bakugou!” she squealed, pounding her fists against his back. “Put me down! Right now!”
“Okay,” he said casually and with that, he waded waist-deep into the surf and unceremoniously dropped her in with a loud splash.
She surfaced with a gasp, hair plastered to her cheeks and water streaming from her lashes. “You jerk!” she yelled, flinging a splash of water right into his smug face.
He chuckled, flicking water right back at her in retaliation.
Rosie turned in time to see Shoji in the distance helping Maerya into the water, his many arms holding her steady as she slowly waded deeper, her arms clutched around his. “ Why didn’t you do that for me?” she demanded, gesturing toward the pair.
Katsuki shrugged, unbothered. “You didn’t ask.”
“You’re the worst,” she grumbled, and with a final splash toward his chest, she huffed and turned to march back toward shore.
She didn’t make it far before— thwack —something smacked right into the side of her head. With a surprised yelp, she stumbled backward and lost her footing, toppling back into the water.
“Shit—Rosie!” Katsuki was there in an instant, arms circling her waist and hauling her back up against his chest. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she mumbled, rubbing her head as her fingers gently probed the tender spot. “Ow. That kinda hurt.”
A low growl rumbled from his chest as he glared at the Frisbee floating nearby. He snatched it from the water, eyes locking onto the guy who’d thrown it—some dude down the beach already holding his hands up in apology.
Too late. Katsuki hurled the Frisbee like a missile. It hit the guy square in the face with a loud thunk . “GAAH!” the guy fell back, clutching his nose and wailing in pain as blood gushed out of his nose like a sprinkler.
“Watch where you aim, dumbass!” Katsuki barked, arms still firmly around Rosie’s waist. “Or I’ll use your spine to build sandcastles.”
Rosie blinked up at him, wide-eyed, cheeks rosy from embarrassment and adrenaline. “I… you didn’t have to do that…”
“Sure I did,” he muttered, letting go of her slowly. “Nobody gets to hit you but me.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Nothing.”
He turned and stormed off toward the waves, leaving Rosie flustered, wet, and entirely unsure what to do with the stupid fluttering in her chest.
Notes:
sorry for the late update, I have been babysitting my niece since Monday night and I'm frankly exhausted but I was able to pump out this short chapter in between chasing the little goblin🤭
anyway, you guys are about to have so cavities with all the sweet syrupy lovey dovey shit between rosie and katsuki but we are also getting so much drama💖
anyway lemme know your thoughts and see you tomorrow. I will try to update early tomorrow!
Chapter 128: You want the truth? Fine—here’s the truth: I do care.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie sloshed through the shallows as the girls gradually made their way out of the ocean. Her red bikini clung to her skin, her hair damp and tangled from the saltwater and waves. Katsuki hadn’t spoken a word to her since he dragged her into the ocean earlier—and now he was actively avoiding her altogether. He hadn’t looked her way once, not even during the volleyball game or when she passed him her towel. It was stupid, and it stung a little—but she tried not to let it show. That was just… him. Gruff. Cold. Moody. Avoidant. Probably just regretting being nice to her at all. Whatever. She had other things to think about, like smoothies.
“I want a smoothie!” Mina announced suddenly, already marching toward the towels to grab her wallet.
“Ooh, yes,” Uraraka perked up. “Coconut mango, here I come.”
One by one, the girls followed suit—tossing towels over their shoulders and slipping into flip-flops as they headed up the beach toward the little smoothie shack tucked beside the dunes. Rosie followed, still wringing out her hair, Maerya strolling beside her.
The line was semi-packed, a blend of beachgoers, kids with sandy feet, and teens scrolling through their phones. Eventually, they all had their drinks—colorful, tropical, ice-cold—and drifted back toward the beach, laughing and trading sips. All except Maerya and Rosie, who stepped up to the front of the line.
Rosie blinked in surprise when she recognized the boy behind the counter. “Hiroshi?”
He smiled sheepishly. “Hey.”
She tilted her head. “What are you doing here?”
“Lost my job at the ice cream parlor,” he said with a casual shrug, wiping his hands on a rag. “Friend of mine told me about this gig. They were desperate for help, and I needed something close to where my Uncle lives since he needed my help cleaning out the old family home, so... here I am.”
“Oh.” Her brows drew up in sympathy. “I’m really sorry to hear that.”
He just gave her a lopsided smile. “It happens. Life’s weird sometimes.”
Rosie nodded slowly and tucked some wet strands of hair behind her ear. “Can I get a berry berry smoothie, please?”
“You got it,” he said, punching it into the system.
“Strawberry banana,” Maerya said beside her, her tone clipped.
Hiroshi nodded again, then leaned slightly over the counter toward Rosie as he started the blender. “Kind of interesting, though, right? You all happen to take a beach trip, and I happen to get this job just days before. Coincidence?”
Rosie tilted her head, smiling softly. “Maybe. I mean, yeah—it’s kind of funny timing.”
“Or maybe…” he said, voice dropping playfully low, “it’s fate.”
Rosie flushed lightly and laughed awkwardly. “You’re always saying weird things like that.”
Behind her, Maerya rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out of her skull. As soon as Rosie turned her back to peer at the menu board again, Maerya subtly raised her hand—and flipped Hiroshi off with a tight, venomous glare.
Hiroshi just smirked. “Smoothies will be right up,” he said lightly, turning to grab two cups from the blender.
Maerya stepped closer to Rosie and muttered, “Let’s get back once we get our drinks, okay?”
Rosie glanced at her. “Sure. You alright?”
“I’m fine,” Maerya said with a tight smile, though her eyes didn’t leave Hiroshi once. Even after he handed her the smoothie with a syrupy smile that made her want to dump said drink over his head.
“Okay. I’ll catch up in a sec, I wanna grab some napkins.”
Maerya’s jaw clenched. She gave Hiroshi one last warning glare—one that said don’t push it—then turned and stomped back toward the others.
Behind the counter, Hiroshi slid Rosie her smoothie with a warm grin. “Hope you like it.”
Rosie took the smoothie with a grateful nod. “Thanks,” she said brightly, her cherry-glossed lips curved in that soft way that always made Hiroshi’s chest ache.
He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck, eyes flicking down the line of customers still waiting. “So… I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go out sometime this weekend? Just us.”
She blinked, caught off guard. “Oh. Um—I’m here with my friends for the weekend,” she said slowly. “We all planned this together, and I’d feel bad ditching them. We’re kind of celebrating.”
His smile faltered slightly. “Celebrating?”
“I’ve been getting some of my memories back,” she said, her voice lifting with hope. “It’s been a little overwhelming but… I’m really happy.”
There was a beat of silence too long to be comfortable. “Oh,” Hiroshi said finally. Flat. Unreadable.
Her brow furrowed. “Is… something wrong?”
“No,” he said too quickly. “No, of course not. That’s great. I’m just…” He gave a little shrug, but there was no warmth in it. “I guess I’m just worried. That once everything comes back—you’ll remember who you used to be and forget about me.”
Rosie’s expression softened with guilt. “Oh, Hiroshi…” She reached out without thinking, placing a gentle hand over his on the bar. “That won’t happen. Even when I get all my memories back, we’ll still be friends.”
His hand turned beneath hers, catching her fingers.
“I don’t want to be friends with you, Rosie,” he said quietly—but with a weight that made her freeze. “I want to be your boyfriend.”
Her lips parted, eyes wide. She hadn’t expected him to just say it. Not now. Not like this. She knew that he liked her and she had liked him but was it enough? They had gone on a date that ended in a disaster but a date nonetheless….
Before she could form a response, a shadow loomed behind her, sharp and massive, casting them both in sudden chill. Rosie blinked and turned—just as Hiroshi’s entire demeanor shifted. The forced calm cracked at the edges of his mouth, a twitch jerking at the corner of his jaw.
Katsuki stood there, arms crossed, jaw clenched so tightly his teeth might shatter. His crimson eyes weren’t just annoyed—they were murderous. “Can you not make your pathetic little confession during a shift,” he growled, his voice low and coiled like a lit fuse, “when you’ve got ten people behind her waiting to order?”
His gaze didn’t flicker from Hiroshi. Rosie stepped back instinctively, her heart thudding in her chest.
Hiroshi’s smile twisted, tighter now. “Didn’t realize my personal life was any of your business.”
“Everything she does is my business,” Katsuki snapped, stepping forward until they were chest to chest. “Especially when it’s some creep trying to corner her behind a smoothie counter.”
Rosie looked between them, flustered and caught. “Okay—okay, that’s enough—”
Katsuki didn’t take his eyes off Hiroshi. “You got something to say, say it. Otherwise, make her smoothie and stop wasting her damn time.”
Hiroshi’s voice dropped an octave. “And if I do have something to say to her?”
Katsuki’s smirk was slow and sharp. “Then say it loud. So I know exactly what I’m about to punch you in the mouth for.”
Rosie stepped between them, chest tight. “Katsuki!” she hissed, placing a hand on his chest to hold him back. “Please. Stop.”
His eyes flicked to her. Just for a moment. And in that moment, some of the fire dulled—but it didn’t go out. Not even close.
Hiroshi picked up her smoothie cup, now sealed, and set it down hard on the counter. “Here. Berry berry. Just how you like it.”
Rosie took it without a word. Her fingers were shaking. Maerya was already watching from a few paces away, her mouth set in a frown, eyes full of suspicion. Katsuki stepped back, just enough to let Rosie breathe again, but his body never fully relaxed.
As she turned to go, Hiroshi called out—quietly, almost too quiet to hear over the noise of the beach. “I won’t give up on you, Rosie.”
But Katsuki had heard it. Loud and clear. And the look in his eyes promised only one thing: War.
As soon as they were out of sight from the smoothie bar, Rosie stopped dead in her tracks and rounded on him, eyes blazing. Her fists clenched at her sides as her voice came out sharp—crackling with betrayal.
“What the hell was that for?!”
Katsuki turned, slow and thunderous, his expression unreadable but his eyes already glowing with a storm. “What?”
She scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. You know what. That scene back there—completely uncalled for.”
“My bad for stepping in while you were busy entertaining bottom-feeding rejects.”
Rosie’s jaw dropped. “What is your deal?!”
“My deal,” he gritted, teeth bared, “is that you keep wasting your time on spineless, manipulative pricks who don’t give a damn about your safety. You think I saved your life so you could just throw yourself at some asshole who can’t even hold a job?!”
Her mouth trembled in rage, her voice rising. “Oh, so now there are strings attached?! I didn’t realize pulling me from death meant you got a say in every damn thing I do!”
“That’s not what I meant and you fucking know it!”
“Do I?!” she shouted, stepping into his space. “You said we’d never be friends. That we couldn’t be anything. Then you hang around, growl at every guy I talk to, act like you care and then push me away again! I have a teenage sister and she’s got more emotional maturity than you!”
He flinched, his jaw ticking hard.
“You can’t dictate my life, Katsuki! You don’t get to choose who I talk to, what I do, or who I date!”
“I will when it’s a brain-dead decision!”
“Oh, my god! You are so—so—frustrating!”
“Right back at you, sweetheart.” The word came out like a weapon, his voice low and mocking, eyes burning like embers as he towered over her.
She inhaled sharply, her chest rising and falling with fury. “Stop doing that!”
“Doing what?!” He snapped right back at her, “what do you want me to stop doing?”
The tension between them was combustible, hot enough to boil the sand beneath their feet. Rosie’s hands trembled—not with fear, but with the overwhelming urge to either slap him across the face or grab him by the collar and kiss the living hell out of him.
Her brain couldn’t decide which would make the anger go away faster. “You’re such a dick,” she whispered, voice trembling.
“You drive me insane,” he bit back. “How can someone so fucking smart be so fucking stupid?! Do you not realize the danger you put yourself in because you’re so fucking naive? You’ve been closer to death than the average civilian and you aren’t even a damn Hero! So just have faith in me to protect you!” he stopped himself, chest heaving.
They were toe to toe, breaths mingling in the narrow space between them like lightning waiting to strike—hot, volatile, and crackling with energy. The ocean breeze whipped at Rosie’s hair, the sun catching on the droplets still clinging to her skin. Katsuki’s eyes, molten and unreadable, bore into her like they could sear the truth right out of her soul.
Neither of them noticed the way the voices behind them had quieted. A hushed tension settled over the beach path where their friends had gathered—some with wide eyes, others with phones discreetly aimed at the standoff in front of them.
Rosie jabbed a finger into his chest, her jaw tight, her eyes glinting. “Why would I have faith in someone who can’t decide whether to be friends with me or not?”
Katsuki didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. He just stared down at her, like her words physically lodged in his throat.
“You don’t get to do this—” she continued, voice sharp but trembling beneath the surface, “—you don’t get to act like you care one minute, then turn around and treat me like I’m some fragile stranger the next.”
His eyes narrowed, a muscle ticking along his jaw. “I have every right.”
“No, you don’t,” she said, quieter now, though her tone had only sharpened. “Not if you’re not going to be honest with me.”
“I am being honest,” he growled, voice low. “You want the truth? Fine—here’s the truth: I do care.”
Rosie blinked, taken aback, but before she could respond, he cut her off.
“You—you forget shit. You smile at guys who don’t deserve to be within ten feet of you. You walk around like the world is all sunshine and rainbows! You’re reckless, you’re soft, and you’re too trusting.”
“And you’re overbearing, overprotective, and treat everyone like they’re an enemy,” she snapped back. “I’m a grown woman, Katsuki! I can handle myself!”
He scoffed, stepping closer. “A grown woman who’s only been walking around with half her damn memories, trusting guys who are clearly taking advantage of her!”
Her face flushed hot with anger—and maybe something else, something confusing and tugging low in her stomach—and before she could stop herself, she lifted her smoothie and dumped it right over his head. A collective gasp rippled behind them. Katsuki stood frozen for a beat, smoothie dripping down his hair and shirt, cold and sticky against his skin. Rosie bit her lip, wide-eyed for a heartbeat before a helpless giggle escaped her lips. She smirked and took a step back.
“Oh no,” Mina muttered from the sidelines. “She did not just do that.”
Katsuki blinked once. Twice. Then, with a slow, maddening smirk tugging at his lips, he dragged his hand up his face, wiped the cold liquid from his cheek—and smeared it right across Rosie’s cheek and the rest of her face..
She gasped, stumbled back, and wiped at her face, laughing. “You jerk!”
“You started it,” he said smugly.
“You’re a menace!”
“And you’re a damn brat.”
“Oh my god,” Kaminari whispered in awe, phone in hand, already recording. “This is better than reality TV.”
Shoto walked up, arms crossed, deadpan. “I told you they’d either murder each other or make out by sundown.”
“I’ve got twenty on a kiss before the weekend is over,” Kirishima muttered, passing money to Shoji who just hummed.
Maerya slapped a twenty in his hands, “twenty that it happens by tomorrow.”
“You’re on,” Uraraka joined in sipping her smoothie
Back in the center of it all, Rosie and Katsuki were still too caught up in each other to notice the growing peanut gallery. She wiped smoothie from her lip, flushed and breathless, and he was standing close again—so close, she could see the flecks of gold in his red eyes, the tension in his jaw, the heat simmering beneath his gruff exterior.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she muttered.
“Like what?” he asked, voice low.
“Like… that.”
He leaned down a little, just enough to make her heart stutter. “Then stop giving me a reason to.”
She opened her mouth, closed it, and turned around, flustered and furious and glowing pink all the way down her chest. He just watched her storm off, one brow cocked, his smirk widening.
He wasn’t done. Not even close. Then his surroundings finally sunk in and he looked around to see everyone had been watching them. A single muttered, gritted curse escaped him. “Fuck.”
Not until she heard Maerya’s voice break the tension: “…So. Who wants a redfill?”
Rosie had grabbed her tote, a very indignant Maya, and stormed back to the beach house without looking back. After a long, angry shower that had her muttering curse words under the water, she changed into a loose white spaghetti strap tank top and a pair of frayed jean shorts. Her damp hair clung to her neck as she stomped around the bedroom, unpacking her bag with unnecessary force.
“Stupid Bakugou.. Stupid temper. Stupid perfect jawline—”
“Should’ve kissed him.”
Rosie spun around so fast she nearly tripped over her suitcase. Standing at the doorway with her arms crossed and a very smug smile on her lips was Maerya, looking far too satisfied with herself.
“W-What?” Rosie sputtered.
Maerya leaned against the doorframe, lifting a brow. “Kiss Katsuki,” she said with a shrug. “Y’know? Rosie and Katsuki sitting in a tree—K-I-S—”
“Shut up,” Rosie groaned, turning back to her things.
“That’s not a denial.”
Rosie threw a pair of sandals into the corner. “That’s because there’s nothing to deny! He’s a brute. A grumpy, arrogant—” She paused, shoulders stiffening. “—handsome… infuriating man.”
Maerya snorted. “And there it is.”
“I don’t like him,” Rosie said quickly, cheeks burning as she sat on the edge of the bed. “He’s mean and rude and confusing, and he’s always up in my business!”
“But you don’t mind it,” Maerya grinned, walking further into the room. “You like that he challenges you. Admit it.”
Rosie crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “I like Hiroshi.”
“Why?” Maerya asked, plopping down beside her on the bed, voice sharp with something like concern.
Rosie blinked. “What do you mean, why? He’s sweet. He listens to me. He’s never yelled at me or—”
Maerya stood abruptly and walked into the bathroom, rummaging through her makeup bag. Rosie followed her, frowning. “What’s with you?”
“I’ve gotten weird vibes from Hiroshi since the moment I met him,” Maerya said flatly, meeting Rosie’s eyes in the mirror.
Rosie rolled her eyes. “You sound like Katsuki. And Eri.”
“They’re both good judges of character, you know,” Maerya replied, still calm, brushing mascara onto her lashes. “And they care about you. Eri’s just a teenager, but she knows when something—or someone—feels wrong.”
Rosie went quiet. Her heart fluttered nervously in her chest as her hands toyed with the edge of the counter.
Maerya glanced sideways at her. “Katsuki isn’t trying to make your life harder. He’s just doing what he thinks is best for you. It’s messed up, the way he says it sometimes, sure. But that man is always looking out for you.”
Rosie looked down, swallowing. “I never thanked him.”
Maerya blinked. “You never what?”
“I never… thanked him. For saving my life.”
“Well,” Maerya said slowly, setting down her mascara and turning to face her. “Maybe you should. He might not say it, but I think it’d mean something to him.”
Rosie exhaled, feeling the heat crawl up her cheeks again. Her chest felt tight with uncertainty and guilt and something else—something warmer.
“Oh, and by the way,” Maerya added with a smirk. “We’re going out for dinner. Somewhere nice. So you might want to change into something hot.”
Rosie blinked, thrown off. “Hot?”
“You heard me. Put on something that’ll make the guys trip over their forks. Starting with a certain blonde with rage issues.”
Rosie groaned into her hands, already walking back into the bedroom. “Fine, fine, I’ll change,” she muttered.
But her voice was softer now, more thoughtful. As she moved to pick out a dress from her suitcase, she caught herself smiling—just a little.
After a delicious dinner that left her full and drowsy, Rosie had changed into something cozy—a soft off-the-shoulder cream sweater and loose cotton shorts that brushed her thighs like a whisper. The beach air had cooled with the setting sun, and the crackling bonfire at the center of the gathering cast golden light over the sand and friends alike. The gentle crashing of waves in the distance, paired with the pop and hiss of firewood, created a peaceful lullaby beneath the lively chatter.
She sat on a driftwood log near the flames, nursing a cup of sweetened wine as she curled her bare toes into the sand. Beside her sat Shoto, calm and quiet as ever, a mug of hot cocoa balanced carefully in his palm like he was holding something ancient and sacred.
Their silence was easy, familiar, and comfortable..
In the distance, Maya darted around from person to person like a tiny, begging raccoon in a sunhat. She barked once, tail wagging as she pawed at Mina, who giggled and gave her half a marshmallow. Not satisfied, Maya bounded next toward Kaminari, who immediately folded under her adorable demands and tossed her another.
“She’s making her rounds,” Rosie said with a soft smile, sipping from her cup.
“She’s smart,” Shoto replied, watching Maya with quiet amusement. “She knows who the weak links are.”
Rosie laughed. The sound, light and genuine, floated above the fire’s crackle.
A beat of silence passed. Then Shoto turned slightly toward her, his voice quieter. “Are you alright? From earlier?”
She blinked, the warmth in her chest faltering. The earlier fight with Katsuki played back in her mind in fragments—his growl, her yelling, the smoothie, the look in his eyes that burned her more than any sun ever could.
She exhaled slowly, giving a small nod. “Yeah. I’m okay.”
Shoto’s gaze didn’t waver. “You’re sure?”
Rosie looked down at her cup, swirling the last bit of wine. “It’s just… confusing. Katsuki is confusing.”
“Hiroshi’s more confusing,” he said bluntly.
She frowned and groaned, rolling her eyes. “Not you too, Shoto.”
“I’m not trying to be mean,” he said calmly, sipping his cocoa. “Just honest. Something about him… doesn’t sit right with me.”
“Why?” she asked, genuinely curious now. “What’s off about him?”
Shoto took a moment before answering, his mismatched eyes focused on the fire. “It’s a feeling. The way he watches you sometimes, like he’s trying to figure out how to act rather than just being himself. People like that are usually hiding something.”
Rosie chewed on her bottom lip, unsure how to respond. She wanted to defend Hiroshi—he had been sweet, consistent, and supportive since she met him—but…But even she had to admit there was something odd at times. How he seemed to always show up. How he never talked about his past, not really. And how he never really asked her about hers.
She sighed again and leaned her head on Shoto’s shoulder, letting the tension melt away just a little. “You guys are all making me paranoid.”
“Maybe,” he said softly, “or maybe we just care.”
Rosie didn’t respond, but her eyes flicked up across the fire toward where Katsuki stood near the drink table, his back turned, shoulders taut beneath a black hoodie. He looked like he was trying not to look at her. He was failing.
Her heart did a stupid little twist.
God, what was wrong with her?
Why did everything—every quiet thought, every breathless moment, every lingering glance—feel like it was slowly, inevitably leading back to him?
Rosie stared at the flames, the distant sound of waves crashing blending with the music and laughter behind her. Katsuki hadn’t looked her way once since the fight. Not once. Not when she got out of the shower, not at dinner, not when she sat by the fire. And it… it bothered her more than she cared to admit.
“I should apologize to him,” she mumbled, barely above a whisper.
Shoto beside her chuckled lowly, a rare sound. “You might break him if you do.”
That earned a giggle from her, light and warm despite the nervous storm in her chest. She turned to him, leaned over, and pressed a grateful kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. For being so understanding. And patient. You’re an amazing best friend.”
He stared at her, his mismatched eyes unreadable for a moment, before the smallest smile curled at his lips and he leaned in to return the kiss on her cheek. “You don’t need to thank me. I’m just glad you’re finding your way back.”
Rosie smiled. Her heart squeezed, and she didn’t know if it was because of his words or because of what she was about to do. She downed the rest of her drink, tossed the empty plastic cup into the fire, and wiped her hands on her sweater.
Then, without giving herself a chance to back out, she turned and walked directly toward the drink table—toward him. “Katsuki…” Her voice came out softer than she meant. But maybe that was okay.
His eyes flicked to her slowly, and his brows rose slightly. He didn’t say anything at first, just stared, unreadable and still.
She tucked her hair behind her ear, suddenly nervous again. “Can we… can we go somewhere private?”
His brow ticked up again, this time with something bordering curiosity. His hands, ever buried in his pockets like anchors, didn’t move. “Follow me,” he said, his voice gravel and quiet.
Without another word, he turned and started walking. She followed, heart thudding, stomach flipping with every step. The bonfire’s warmth faded behind her. The laughter, the crackling of flames, the upbeat music—they all dulled to a distant murmur. The only sound that remained was the gentle whisper of the ocean waves and the occasional crunch of their feet in the sand.
Katsuki stopped once they were tucked away behind a formation of tall beachgrass and smooth rocks that created a natural pocket of privacy, where the moonlight shimmered across the surface of the dark ocean. It was beautiful… and strangely intimate.
He turned to face her, eyes shadowed by his lashes and the moon’s glow painting a soft light over his sharp features. “What’s wrong?” he asked, hands still in his pockets. His voice was low, a quiet rasp that sent a shiver down her spine.
Rosie hesitated, lifting her eyes to meet his.
“I wanted to apologize…” she began, her voice trembling more than she’d like. “For earlier. I shouldn’t have dumped my smoothie on you. Even if you were being an infuriating ass.”
His lips twitched.
“I was angry. And confused. And just…” she took a shaky breath, folding her arms around herself. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Katsuki. Everything’s so loud inside my head. I’m trying to remember everything, and nothing makes sense half the time. And I don’t know how to act around you because you’re always pushing and pulling and I can’t keep up—” She stopped herself, biting her lip. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”
Katsuki didn’t answer.
He just stared at her. Not coldly. Not with the usual narrowed eyes or clenched jaw. But like he was trying to memorize her—every freckle, every inch of her expression, every word falling from her lips.
The silence stretched and still, he said nothing.
Rosie’s fingers clenched in her sweater. “Katsuki… say something.”
But he didn’t. Not yet. Because he was still staring, like the words he wanted to say were trapped behind his teeth and stitched shut with something far too vulnerable to voice. There was something in his gaze—something that felt like heat, like ache, like history—and it tightened her chest. It was quiet. It was soft, and yet still it was something more. Something she couldn’t name. Something she wasn’t ready to name.
Or maybe she was seeing things.
Notes:
The beach trip will be spanning over five chapters just because there is a lot of drama and shit that will be happening💖
I am posting this while I’m sitting in traffic so I will try and get to your comments but I want to apologize for the late chapters the last couple of days. I’ve been babysitting my niece as my sister is pregnant again and she’s getting closer to her due date.
lemme know your thoughts and I’ll see you tomorrow!
Chapter 129: You can do no wrong in my eyes, doll.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Stalking forward with the quiet menace of a storm rolling in, Katsuki stopped just inches from her. The heat of him was immediate—raw, overwhelming, and inescapable. Before Rosie could react, his hand rose. Fingers calloused and warm, he grasped her chin gently but firmly, tilting her face up to his. The touch wasn’t rough, but it was decisive —as if he’d made up his mind about something, and she had no say in the matter.
His crimson eyes burned into her, sharp and unyielding, like he was trying to carve his way past her walls, down to the very core of her. It wasn’t just a look. It was an interrogation without words. A search for the truth she didn’t know she was hiding. Like he needed to see every flicker of doubt, every whispered fear, every piece of her that trembled under his stare.
Rosie’s breath caught in her throat. His thumb moved, slow and deliberate, brushing against her bottom lip with maddening precision. The contact was featherlight, but it set fire to her nerves. A simple touch, but it carried weight. It was a question. A challenge. A warning. She could hear her heart hammering against her chest, like it was trying to escape. The sound echoed in her ears, drowned out every rational thought she had left. Her lips parted slightly on instinct, a shaky breath slipping out as her eyes searched his.
Katsuki didn’t move away. He just stared, his thumb still resting against her lip, his gaze unreadable but intense—like he was caught between kissing her and pulling away forever. Like the space between them was a cliff edge, and he was teetering at the edge of a fall.
Her voice was gone. Her thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind, and still… she didn’t move. Didn’t want to. Didn’t dare to. “Katsuki…” His name slipped off her tongue like warm syrup, sweet and slow. It carried something soft—fragile even—something she didn’t fully understand but couldn’t hold back.
He stared down at her like he couldn’t believe she was real. His hands moved, large and rough and trembling ever so slightly, to frame her face. His thumbs brushed her cheekbones with surprising tenderness, the pads warm against her skin, grounding her.
“Please say something,” she whispered, breath hitching.
His voice came low and rasped, like it had been clawed out from the deepest part of his chest. “Never apologize to me,” he said. “You can do no wrong in my eyes, doll.”
The word— doll —slipped around her like velvet and left a shiver running down her spine. It could’ve been the ocean wind, but she knew it wasn’t. It was him . It was the way he looked at her like she was the only thing in the world he ever wanted to touch again.
Her hands found his without thinking, sliding over his where they held her, anchoring her there. Her thumbs gently stroked over the backs of his knuckles as her chest rose and fell beneath the weight of everything unsaid. The scent of the sea swirled around her—salt and wind and night air—but underneath that was him : burnt caramel, something smoky, and something darker she couldn’t name but felt hooked to.
“I-I don’t understand,” she murmured, eyes flicking between his.
He didn’t blink. “Just do me a favor,” he said roughly, his jaw tight.
“What?” she asked, voice barely audible.
“Turn around,” he rasped, “go back to the party… and stay away from me.” His voice dropped even lower. “Don’t look back.”
Her brow furrowed in confusion. That’s not what she expected. Not now. Not after this . “I wanted to thank you,” she said, her voice shaking slightly. “For saving my life.”
His grip on her face tightened a fraction, his forehead nearly touching hers now. “I’ll always save you so there is no need to thank me,” he said, and the words came out like a vow. No hesitation. No conditions. Just truth, fierce and raw and etched into her bones.
Their faces were so close now, breaths mingling in the humid night. Her lashes fluttered, and his gaze dropped to her lips. Her heart twisted and leapt all at once as they started to lean in—slowly, as if afraid the spell would break. There was no rush nor demand. Just the ache of two people drawn together like magnets, hovering just a breath apart.
The silence between them stretched.
“Oh my god, Hitoshi—right there, don’t stop!”
A very familiar voice echoed through the night, followed by the distinct sound of rhythmic thrusting and a squeaky wooden slat banging against something very solid.
Rosie jerked back as if struck by lightning, her face going scarlet. Katsuki blinked, face twisted into a scowl as he looked past her shoulder toward the source. A strangled groan of Kanako’s voice rang out again—desperate, loud, and utterly unashamed.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, pressing a hand over his face as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
Rosie couldn’t look anywhere. Her hands flew to her mouth, eyes wide with horror and secondhand embarrassment. “Oh my god,” she gasped, shoulders hunching. “That did not just happen.”
Katsuki dropped his hand and let out a sharp, almost feral snort. “Goddamn exhibitionists,” he muttered, shaking his head. He glanced back at her, lips twitching into something between a grimace and a grin. “Mood’s gone.”
“Why are they doing it out here?” She squeaked, face covered with her hands as a loud slap echoed from the direction of the dunes they were on one side of.
“Let’s go before I hear something that scars me forever,” he grumbled, grabbing her hand and tugging her back toward the path.
But even as they walked away, her fingers stayed laced with his but the best part was the fact that he didn’t let go.
Crimson eyes tracked her like a predator eyeing prey—Rosie, his gorgeous little spitfire, barefoot in the sand and dancing like nothing in the world could touch her. She twirled on the other side of the bonfire with the rest of the girls, their laughter cutting through the smoky air and drunken haze of the night. The flames painted her in gold, her silhouette soft but sharp, like a blade hidden in silk.
Katsuki leaned back against a driftwood log, nursing a beer he’d long since stopped tasting. He couldn’t look away from her. Every sway of her hips, every curl of her laugh, every sparkle in her eyes under the firelight had him sinking further into his own damn head. His gaze dropped, tracing the lines of her legs, up to the way that ridiculous off-the-shoulder sweater slouched low enough to make his jaw clench.
But it wasn’t just that. Wasn’t just her looks. It was what had happened earlier. Their argument. That was still seared into his memory like a brand.
He could still see the way she stood toe-to-toe with him, snarling and fuming, eyes blazing like a woman on a warpath. That fire she’d lit under him wasn’t just irritation—it was desire . Hot and relentless. She’d looked at him like she was ready to claw her way through his chest and rip his heart out—and for a moment, he was almost begging her to try. That wild anger, the way her voice rose, the way she stomped her foot like it might split the earth beneath her. It was new. It was her , but sharper, unfiltered, and it was fucking intoxicating .
He dragged a hand over his mouth, the corner of his lips twitching despite himself. Rosie had always been soft—his doll, all sweetness and sunshine. She blushed at compliments and teetered on the edge of shyness when he stared too long. But now?
Now she was throwing verbal punches. Shoving her opinions into his chest like knives. Calling him moody, calling him frustrating . Hell, he’d half expected her to slap him. And if he was being honest? A small, dark part of him kind of wanted her to. Not because he liked the pain. But because it would’ve meant she wasn’t afraid to touch him . Even in anger. Even in defiance. Because it would’ve been real.
Katsuki took a long pull from his beer, eyes narrowing as she twirled and nearly stumbled, catching herself with a laugh as Uraraka clung to her side. Her face was flushed, her smile bright, the wind in her hair, she was free, happy, and safe.
That’s all he wanted. So why did he keep fucking it up?
He shifted his jaw, swallowing the words that burned on the tip of his tongue. He couldn’t protect her from everything. But damn it, he would try—even if she hated him for it. Even if she slapped him across the face next time. Even if it made her look at him like he was the villain in her story. He’d be the villain. He’d wear the title proudly if it meant she’d never have to bleed again.
And yet…As she laughed and spun under the night sky, completely unaware of the storm inside him, Katsuki’s lips curved into something low and dangerous.
Maybe next time, he thought. Maybe next time I’ll let her slap me, just so I can grab her hand and kiss her stupid right after.
He almost did.
Katsuki downed the rest of his beer in one long pull, the bottle clinking softly as he set it in the sand beside his foot. The taste barely registered. His thoughts were already slipping—to her, as they always did.
Back to earlier, when they were at the dunes, to the moment under the moonlight where she came to him voluntarily to thank him. To apologize to him like she’d done something wrong. When in truth, all she’d done was survive.
God, she looked… perfect. The wind had teased her hair, her eyes wide with something uncertain and soft, like she hadn’t yet realized how much power she held over him. Standing there in the dark, the ocean behind her, nothing but moonlight to gild her skin, she had never looked more beautiful. Or more dangerous —not in the way a villain would be, but in the way that mattered more: to him.
Because she didn’t even know. She had no idea what she did to him.
What kind of
hell
it was to stand inches away from the one thing he wanted more than anything—and not take it.
She was so small in his hands. So soft, and so goddamn pliant . Not weak. Never weak. But there was a kind of vulnerability only she ever gave to him. She let him hold her, let him touch her, speak to her in ways no one else could without flinching. She leaned into him with a kind of blind faith he didn’t know how to deserve.
That kind of trust? It scared the hell out of him, only because she didn’t remember but he did, he craved it like oxygen. He could still feel her, like a phantom pressed against his palms. That delicate face framed by his hands. Her plump lips slightly parted, her breath stuttering. The sound of his name as it spilled from her tongue—sweet, needy, unsure. She didn’t even realize the power she had over him. Didn’t know that if he leaned in just one inch more, he wouldn’t have stopped. He would’ve devoured her, would’ve finally kissed her, and sunk his hands into that soft, pretty hair, kissed her until she forgot every other name that had ever slipped from her lips but his. Would’ve claimed her like he wanted to—right there with the sea crashing behind them and the moon as their only witness.
But he didn’t. Because she deserved better than a man who couldn’t even figure out how to keep his distance, let alone keep his promises. And so he told her to walk away, told her not to look back.
Even though all he wanted was for her to turn around and run to him.
He could still hear her saying his name in that small voice. Could still smell the faint hint of her vanilla shampoo when she got too close. Could still feel the tremble in her fingertips when they brushed his. His jaw flexed, fingers digging into his thighs. The worst part wasn’t the craving. It wasn’t the way he wanted to press his lips to her collarbone and trace every freckle, every scar with reverence. It was the way she trusted him with everything —with her safety, her secrets, her life. As if she knew he would never hurt her. As if she believed in him more than he believed in himself. She was soft, sure. But not in a way that made her weak, with everyone else, she was sunshine, warm and glowing.
But with him? She was gentle, it was the kind of gentleness that unraveled a man.
He swallowed hard, the heat of the fire licking at his skin as his eyes found her again. Laughing. Spinning in the sand. Dancing like there was no weight on her shoulders.
I’ll always save you, he’d told her, and he meant it. Even if he had to save her from himself.
“You’re staring,” Kirishima muttered as he dropped down beside him in the sand with a soft thud, the fire crackling in front of them. “Again.”
Katsuki didn’t say a word. Just grunted as he took the cold beer Kirishima handed him. His eyes flicked away from Rosie, finally, like maybe if he didn’t look at her, he wouldn’t think about her. But her laugh echoed across the fire, bright and giddy as she twirled with Maerya, arms out, stumbling slightly in her dazed, drunken state.
He clenched the bottle a little too tightly.
“You could always just talk to her,” Kirishima said casually, nudging his arm. “Not like she’s gonna chuck another smoothie at your face. Probably.”
Katsuki scoffed and took a long drink. “Not happening.”
Kirishima sighed and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “You know, I’ve seen you charge into collapsing buildings, face down villains twice your size, blow yourself half to hell with a grin on your face. But I’ve never seen you more scared than you are right now.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m serious,” he said. “You always go after what you want. You don’t think. You just go. But with her? You’ve been frozen. Why?”
Katsuki exhaled slowly, his voice low and gravel-thick. “Because this time, I don’t get to fix it by throwing a punch.”
Kirishima’s gaze softened. “Bakugou…”
“I broke her,” he said quietly, eyes flicking toward the fire. “I pushed her away, broke her heart and made her cry and beg to know what she did wrong. I stood there, not doing a goddamn thing when she had a panic attack, crying and begging to tell her what she can do to fix things.” He swallowed hard, jaw tightening. “Akira sent me videos,” he admitted. “Of Rosie not getting out of bed. Of her drunk off her ass. Partying to forget. Crying. She said it was my fault. That Rosie was vulnerable that night because of me. That she kept blaming herself. That it broke her.”
Kirishima’s lips thinned. “You were both hurting.”
“Yeah, well, my hurting doesn’t excuse what I did. And now she doesn’t even remember it.” Katsuki shook his head. “Doesn’t remember me, not the good, not the bad and maybe that’s mercy, because I remember everything and feel it all.”
“She doesn’t remember,” Kirishima said softly, “but she feels. And you’re not giving her a chance to feel this time. You’re punishing yourself, but you’re taking the choice out of her hands. And that’s not fair. Not after everything else that’s been taken from her.”
Before Katsuki could respond, another weight settled beside him. Shoto, arms crossed, expression unreadable. “She misses you,” Shoto said plainly, eyes still on the fire. “She doesn’t realize it, but she feels your absence. Her memories might be gone, but her heart remembers. Every time your name comes up, her entire body shifts.”
Katsuki scoffed bitterly. “Yeah. To annoyance. ”
Shoto shook his head slowly. “No. Longing.”
Katsuki’s throat tightened, heart knocking against his ribs.
“She just needs to fall in love with you again,” Shoto added.
Katsuki stared at the bottle in his hand for a long moment before hurling it into the sand. His jaw clenched, eyes locked once more on her —his sunshine girl in her soft sweater, spinning like the ocean wind was music, her hair lit up in the firelight, laughing like she hadn’t just turned his whole goddamn world on its head again.
Something inside him snapped. His legs moved before his thoughts could catch up.
“Uh-oh,” Kirishima muttered.
Shoto smirked faintly. “Finally.”
Katsuki stalked across the sand, boots sinking into the cool grains with each step, eyes locked on her. Every word they said echoed in his skull, every memory, every aching moment that had led them here again and as Rosie turned mid-twirl, breathless and flushed, she caught sight of him.
Her smile faltered. Then slowly, her eyes widened.
He didn’t stop, nor hesitate. He just moved straight toward the only thing that ever made his world quiet—Even if it made everything else burn.
She barely had time to say his name before he reached her—before Katsuki's hands were on her, strong and sure, gripping her waist like he’d been drowning for months and she was the first gasp of air.
“Katsuki…?” she whispered, stunned and breathless
And then he kissed her. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t tentative. It was hungry, raw, the kind of kiss that devoured, possessed, consumed.
His mouth crashed into hers with a growl caught in his throat, lips hot and desperate against hers. He poured all the things he hadn’t said, all the feelings he had swallowed, into that kiss. And still— still, it didn’t feel like enough.
She tasted like strawberry wine, soft and sweet and heady, like cherry lip gloss, sugary and familiar, and firelight and beach wind and melted s’mores on her tongue.
When she gasped against his mouth, his hands tangling in the back of her hair, pulling her closer, he swallowed every little sound she made. The soft whimpers, the breathy moans, and the way she sighed like she was melting into him—like she was home. Rosie clung to him, arms wrapping around his neck as though she had no intention of letting go. She didn’t hesitate or falter. She fell into him with complete, blinding faith, so warm, so soft, so hers, like she had been waiting for this too.
For the first time in months, maybe longer, Katsuki felt like he could breathe. He kissed her again and again, slower now, savoring her lips as he cupped her face with rough, reverent hands—like she was something precious he didn’t deserve but couldn’t stop worshiping. He tilted her chin, nuzzled her cheek, brushed his nose along hers. Her heart was beating so fast against his chest, and his own was racing like a storm.
When they finally broke apart, her lips were red, swollen, and gloss-smudged. She stared up at him, wide-eyed and glowing in the firelight. His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth as he leaned in again, just enough for his forehead to press against hers.
His voice, low and hoarse, trembled with everything he was still too afraid to name.
"I'm sorry," Katsuki whispered, the words catching on his breath like they physically hurt to say.
His hand lingered on her cheek for a second longer, thumb brushing over her skin as if trying to memorize the shape of her before he slowly let go.
The warmth between them shattered the moment his hands dropped away. He stepped back like the kiss had burned him, like he couldn’t bear the closeness one second longer. His gaze dropped to the sand, jaw clenched, breath unsteady. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, back toward the beach house, his shoulders tense and spine rigid like it was taking everything in him not to look back.
Rosie stood there in the hush of the waves and firelight, lips still tingling, heart thudding, slowly sobering as she watched him disappear into the dark.
Notes:
Omg sooo we finally get out first kiss, who knows when their next kiss will be..because I don't even know myself when the next one will be🤭
Happy Belated Birthday to SimplyCareless!🥳 This chapter is dedicated to you on your special day that was yesterday! I hope it was lovely💖
Lemme know your thoughts and I will see you in the next one💖
Chapter 130: Next time, put a sock in the door. Or lock it
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Maerya grinned like a fox as she held the folded-up piece of paper in the flickering firelight. “Alright, so we’re splitting the pot between the five who bet they’d kiss before Saturday morning.” She dramatically paused for effect, watching the crowd groan in anticipation, already sensing their impending losses. “Kirishima, Shoto, Mina, Kanako… and yours truly.” She smirked, teeth flashing as she waved the paper in the air.
“Damn it!” Kaminari groaned, tossing his hands in the air as he pulled out a crumpled bill. “I thought for sure it’d be Sunday night.”
Tokoyami handed over his yen with a cryptic sigh, “I miscalculated their emotional chaos.”
“Ugh, I thought Katsuki would combust before making a move,” Jirou muttered, slapping her own palm against her forehead.
One by one, the losers groaned and paid up, grumbling good-naturedly while Maerya and the others counted their spoils. She pocketed her cash with a satisfied pat to her shorts.
“Some of you need to learn to read tension better,” she teased, stretching her arms over her head with a yawn. “Anyway, I’m turning in. This place smells like s’mores, salt, and desperation.”
Chuckles followed her as she walked back toward the beach house, the light buzz from her wine fading into a comfortable drowsiness. The party had mellowed into low music and murmured laughter, and the quiet of the upper floors welcomed her like a lullaby. Padding upstairs barefoot, she rounded the hallway corner—only to hear the soft hiss of running water and the familiar scent of Rosie’s body wash once she entered her shared room. The bathroom door was cracked slightly open, steam curling into the air. Maerya smiled faintly. Rosie always took the longest showers when she was flustered.
Turning toward the bedroom, she spotted Momo already inside, standing beside her bed. But instead of preparing for sleep, Momo was staring quietly at the wall, her back slightly turned to the door. Something about the stillness in her posture made Maerya pause. She wasn’t reading. Not brushing her hair. Not on her phone. Just… standing there, lost in thought.
Maerya leaned against the doorframe, her voice gentle. “You alright, Momo?”
The other girl blinked and quickly smoothed her expression, glancing over her shoulder. “Oh—yes, just tired. That’s all.”
Maerya didn’t press. Momo had always been composed, always internal. If something was wrong, she’d say it—eventually. Maybe.
“Mhm,” Maerya hummed knowingly, letting it slide. “Well, I’m beat.”
She tossed her winnings onto her nightstand and slipped into her oversized shirt, giving the bathroom door one last glance as she heard Rosie start humming softly inside the shower.
Something in the air tonight felt heavier, layered—like the kiss around the bonfire had been a starting point, not an end. But Maerya wasn’t in the mood to be a nosy oracle tonight.
Let them unravel their hearts in their own time.
She turned off the lamp, slid under the covers, and let the quiet of the beach house lull her to sleep.
Stepping out of the bathroom, Rosie towel-dried the ends of her hair, humming softly to herself as she padded across the wooden floor. The sea breeze from the cracked window brushed her bare shoulders as she moved toward her bed, spotting her phone blinking softly on the nightstand.
Maerya was curled up in bed, her soft breathing even and calm beneath the blankets. Rosie smiled faintly. She’d thought maybe they’d stay up and talk more, but exhaustion clearly won out.
She glanced toward Momo’s bed, only to find it still empty. Probably still with the others outside, she figured. Maybe sipping wine or talking quietly with the rest. Rosie had long given up trying to figure Momo out. Their friendship—or lack thereof—had been a strange, tangled mess ever since her rescue.
Momo had barely spoken to her. Every attempt Rosie made to bridge the distance was met with cold politeness or clipped indifference. She hadn’t understood why—especially not when she found that delicate bracelet in the box with the others. They had to have been close once. But now? It was nothing but silence, distance, and avoidance.
With a small sigh, Rosie pulled back her covers and was about to slide into bed when she heard the door open and close behind her. She turned, mid-motion, and froze.
Momo stood in the doorway. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes and nose red and swollen like she’d been crying for hours. She was barefoot, arms crossed, shoulders shaking slightly. And her expression… it wasn’t composed or cold. It was heartbroken.
“Momo?” Rosie stepped toward her slowly, her brow furrowing with concern. “Are you okay—?”
“Don’t touch me!” Momo snapped, stepping back sharply, as if Rosie’s presence physically burned her.
Rosie’s hand dropped to her side. The confusion came first, then the hurt. “What’s wrong?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
She couldn’t piece it together. They hardly spoke—why was she so angry?
“You kissed Shoto,” Momo hissed, her voice sharp and raw. “And then you turned around and kissed Bakugou.”
Rosie blinked, stunned. “I—what? Momo, what are you talking about?”
“Do you want them both?” she spat, her voice cracking under the weight of something else entirely. “Do you want to keep them both wrapped around your finger while pretending you don’t remember anything?”
Rosie took a shaky breath, tears already stinging her eyes. “I didn’t—Momo, I didn’t mean—”
The shouting roused Maerya. She sat up in bed, groggy but instantly alert. “What the hell is going on?”
Neither of them answered her.
Momo was crying now, her body trembling as the tears spilled faster. “It’s not fair,” she muttered bitterly, almost incoherently. “None of this is fair. Things should go back. They should just go back—”
“Momo, I don’t understand,” Rosie choked out, tears falling freely now. “What did I do? Why are you doing this?”
Just then the door burst open again. Uraraka came in with Mina right behind her, both wide-eyed and breathless from running upstairs.
“Whoa, whoa, what’s happening?” Mina asked, immediately moving between them.
“Momo, hey,” Uraraka said gently, moving toward her. “You’re drunk, okay? You need to calm down.”
“She’s being selfish,” Momo sobbed, pointing at Rosie. “She gets everything again. Everyone’s just waiting for her to remember and fall back into their perfect little places. Like I never mattered at all.”
Rosie stared at her, completely shattered, unable to make sense of the pain in Momo’s voice. Her chest tightened, every breath felt like splinters pushing through her ribs, and her hands trembled at her sides. Nothing about this made sense—nothing at all.
Maerya moved quietly behind her, her presence steady as she placed a hand on Rosie’s shoulder, quiet, protective and grounding. But it did little to steady the way Rosie’s heart stuttered in confusion and dread.
“Momo,” Mina said carefully, stepping forward with her palms raised like she was trying to calm a spooked animal, “why don’t you sleep on the couch tonight, okay? Just give Rosie some space.”
But Momo wasn’t done.
“No!” Momo shouted, her voice sharp and cracking with emotion. Her eyes were glassy, wild, as if everything she’d been holding in had finally ruptured. “I’m not going to shut up and pretend like none of this happened just because she forgot everything!”
Rosie flinched. A sharp pulse rattled through her skull, like pressure building behind her eyes.
“We used to hang out all the time, just the two of us,” Momo went on, voice trembling, “we’d get coffee, we’d talk for hours. You told me everything—everything! About the guy you liked, we bonded over our shared secret—we would eve—”
“Momo,” Mina said sharply, stepping forward, worry etched into every line of her face. “Stop. We were told not to say anything.”
“No,” Momo snapped, rounding on her, her voice cracking now with rising anger and pain. “She needs to know the truth! I’m sick and tired of lying, sick of acting like everything’s normal when it’s not. She doesn’t remember how sh—”
Thwack! A throw pillow smacked Momo square in the face, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Read the room!” Maerya snapped, seething. “She’s not okay!”
Rosie let out a strangled gasp, her knees buckling beneath her as pain exploded behind her eyes like fireworks—hot, jagged, relentless. Her hands shot to her head. The ground seemed to tilt beneath her.
“Rosie?” Mina rushed forward.
Rosie collapsed to her knees, her breathing ragged as she sobbed out, “Stop—stop—please—I can’t—”
The memories came in bursts—out of order, bright and blinding:
Shoto standing in a hallway, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he leaned against a wall. Momo laughing in a booth at Ishlamare, their pinkies linked across the table. Shoji shielding her in the pool from the guys jumping off a roof and into the pool. Tsui teaching her how to float on her back. Tokoyami’s voice murmuring about how to play the guitar at Ignis Inferno.
All of it hit her at once like tidal waves crashing through a broken dam. She bent forward, her forehead brushing the floor as she sobbed uncontrollably, her entire body trembling. “I remember—I remember them,” she choked out. “Shoto… Momo… Shoji… Tsui… I remember them…”
But it was too much. Her heart couldn’t hold it all at once. Her sobs came fast, shallow, broken.
Momo fell to her knees beside her, her rage evaporated, now replaced with guilt and horror. “Rosie—oh god, I didn’t mean—”
Maerya intercepted her with an arm, holding her back as Mina knelt beside Rosie. “Breathe, just breathe with me,” Mina said softly, cupping Rosie’s cheeks. “You’re safe. We’re here.”
But Rosie couldn’t stop crying. The floodgates had opened, and the pain of what had been lost—what was still missing—was too heavy to bear. The room dimmed, the weight of it all anchoring her in place as if the sorrow itself were dragging her underwater. The memories didn’t stop, nor did they slow. If anything, they grew darker, colder—pulling her deeper into the parts of her mind that had been locked away for a reason.
She saw a small damp and cold room. The walls were concrete, stained with blood and there were chains—thick, heavy chains bolted to the ground, ceiling, and walls. Her own wrists bore phantom pain as the memory surged forward.
A voice slithered into her ears, cruel and sweet like poison sugar. “You scream just like your mother did.”
Rosie gasped, her body flinching as though she’d been struck. Her mouth opened, but no sound came.
In the memory, she was strapped down to a chair—her breath shallow, eyes wide as Kyoma circled her like a wolf savoring its kill. His smile was all teeth and malice. “You know, she begged,” he whispered, crouching next to her. “Cried for you until the end. I almost felt bad. But pain is such a gift, isn’t it? It makes things real.”
Rosie whimpered, the sensation of cold steel dragging across her skin returning with horrifying clarity. She remembered the bite of the blade, the way her body arched away from it, the sting, the blood, the—
Her sob caught in her throat, the strong scent of iron. Her ears were filled with her own heartbeat and the screams that tore through her mouth..
“Let’s see how long it takes before you break too.”
He had enjoyed it. The way he carved into her, slow and deliberate. The way he mocked her—told her no one was coming, that she wasn’t worth saving. That her mother had died for nothing. That her “friends” had already forgotten her. The pain hadn’t been the worst part. The hopelessness had been. The terrifying thought that maybe he was right. That maybe she was going to die alone. That no one would come. That no one cared.
“Stop,” Rosie sobbed, curling in on herself, shaking violently. “Please, stop…”
But the memory refused.
Kyoma’s voice laughed in her ear, “So soft. So breakable. Just like she was.”
Rosie let out a broken wail, her nails digging into her scalp as if trying to claw the memory out of her brain. She clutched her head with both hands, her legs trembling beneath her as she choked out a strangled sob. “Stop—stop—I can’t—”
“Rosie?” Maerya’s voice was laced with panic as she stepped forward to catch her.
“She’s having a panic attack!” Mina clarified.
It kept looping.
The chains. The voice. The blade.
Her sobs had grown raw, each breath shorter than the last, until even that became impossible. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t escape.
Rosie gasped, choking on air that felt too thick, her chest heaving violently as her vision blurred. The voices of her friends swirled around her—Maerya, Mina, Tsui—but they were muffled, distant, as though she were underwater and sinking.
“So easy to break,” Kyoma's voice echoed again, slick and serpentine. “You’re nothing without them. Just a little doll, forgotten on a shelf.”
Her body trembled. Nails dug into her scalp. The panic tore through her like wildfire, and all she could do was shake. She wanted to scream but couldn’t. Her throat burned. Her limbs were useless. She wanted to run, but she wasn’t here. She was there—in the dark, cold place where she had been left to die.
The room tilted. Her heart pounded so loud she couldn’t hear anything else—Until she did. A voice, one she knew oh so well, one that was gravelly, rough, and furious. “Get the fuck out of my way.”
It shattered through her like a lightning strike. Her body stiffened at the sound. She knew that voice. She knew it.
“Move,” Katsuki growled again, louder. There was a rustle of movement—people protesting, trying to explain, and then another snarl:
“I said move before I start throwing people out the goddamn windows.”
Then—warmth, familiar and solid. She was suddenly in someone’s arms, lifted from the ground as though she weighed nothing. Strong arms, trembling just slightly. A heartbeat thundered beneath her cheek—steady, powerful. A voice, low, soft, and warm whispered to her. “Hey. Hey. You’re safe now, doll. You’re not there anymore. I’ve got you. I saved you.”
His hand threaded gently through her hair, cradling her head as she clutched onto his shirt like it was her last anchor to the world.
“You’re here,” he whispered again, fierce but soft. “You’re with me. It’s over.”
Her body, though still shaking, slowly began to respond to the comfort, to the grounding tone of his voice and the steady thud of his heart. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks, but her breath began to slow—just slightly.
“Everyone out,” Katsuki snapped over his shoulder. “Now.”
There was a hesitation. Then quiet shuffling. Some murmured apologies. The creak of the door. And finally—a soft click.
Silence, only her soft whimpers and his quiet breaths remained. He adjusted his hold on her gently, lifting her again and carrying her through the room with careful steps. Rosie didn’t open her eyes. She couldn’t bring herself too, scared it was all just in her head.
Katsuki laid down on the bed with her still cradled in his arms, tugging the blanket over both of them. The lights were off, the room hushed and still, except for the quiet ocean breeze through the open window.
He didn’t let her go. One hand ran slowly up and down her back, the other curling securely around her waist. His chin rested against the top of her head as he spoke to her, low and steady. “I’ve got you, doll. You’re okay. You’re safe. He’s gone. I’ll never let him touch you again.”
She pressed her face into his neck, her hands gripping tightly to his shirt, afraid that if she let go, she’d fall back into that hell again. But the warmth of him, the smell of smoke and caramel and something that had always been him—it kept her tethered.
She remembered the cold first. It was bone-deep, gnawing at her skin like sharp teeth. The darkness had been endless, heavy with silence broken only by distant screams and the quiet drip of blood onto the cement floor. Her body ached—no, throbbed—with every breath, every twitch of a finger. She’d lost hope somewhere between the pain and the hours—days?—of isolation.
But then… There was light, muffled shouting, the crack of gunfire far away, echoing through the halls. She thought it was another trick, another hallucination conjured by her splintered mind.
Until she saw him.
A figure burst into the room, all muscle and fury, his face obscured by the black combat mask gleamed under the dim lights, all she could see were crimson eyes, blazing and wet with unshed tears.
She had tried to speak but nothing came out. She thought she imagined it—her battered mind summoning comfort where none existed.
Humming, she tried to speak again but failed.
Catching her, he dropped to his knees before her, his voice cracked as he pulled her broken body into his arms, cradling her like something fragile. “Rosie… I’m so sorry…” he whispered. She could feel him trembling around her, his arms iron-clad but gentle, the contrast jarring. “I should’ve been here sooner—I should’ve—”
Her vision blurred, everything flickering in and out of focus. But his voice was steady and solid.
“I’m here. I’m here to save you,” he rasped, breath ragged. “I’m sorry it took me so long. I’m so—”
She had lifted her hand then, clumsy and weak, finding his cheek. His skin was warm and damp beneath her fingers, his tears catching in the soft swell of her thumb and for the first time in what felt like forever, she smiled. “Thank you…” she had whispered before the darkness claimed her once more.
The sound of waves brushing against the shore greeted her when she stirred. Warmth enveloped her from all sides—muscle and heat and the steady rhythm of a heartbeat beneath her cheek. Her lashes fluttered, and she blinked against the pale morning light seeping through the curtains.
Katsuki’s arms were around her. He was still holding her like she might vanish if he let go. His chin rested against the top of her head, one hand spread protectively over her spine, the other wrapped beneath her knees.
She tilted her head up slowly. His eyes opened at once—blood-red, sharp, but soft the second they met hers. “You’re awake,” he murmured.
Rosie nodded slowly, her voice barely audible. “You stayed…”
“Of course I did.” His voice was hoarse, heavy with sleep and something gentler. “How do you feel?”
She swallowed, her throat tight, but not with pain this time. “Safe.”
Katsuki exhaled, his arms tightening ever so slightly as if in relief.
“Thank you… for everything,” she whispered, reaching up to touch his face.
He leaned into her palm. “You don’t need to thank me, doll.”
She hesitated, her brows knitting. “I… remember it now. Not all of it. But… you were the one who found me. In that place. I remember the cold. The mask. Your eyes.”
His gaze held hers, unreadable but intense. “Yeah.”
She sat up slightly, cradled still in his lap, fingers brushing his jaw. “You looked like a damn hero,” she said with a watery smile. “Even with the mask. I felt warm again when I saw you.”
His breath hitched. He didn’t respond right away, just looked at her like she was something he never thought he’d get to see again.
“I remember the way you held me,” she added softly. “Like I was going to disappear if you didn’t.”
“You were so hurt,” he said after a beat. “And I—God, Rosie, I couldn’t protect you. I—”
“You saved me,” she cut in gently. “You did. You always do.”
Katsuki shook his head lightly, his voice low. “You’re still processing it. You need to take it eas—”
Her hands pressed against his bare chest, warm and steady, halting his words. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” she said quietly, but firmly. “What I do want to talk about… is why you kissed me last night.”
He tensed beneath her, his jaw tightening. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I was hoping you forgot about that,” he muttered.
Rosie gave him a look that was part exasperated, part shy, part something else entirely. “Kind of hard to forget,” she whispered, “when you get kissed like that.”
A slow, familiar smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. It was smug. Unapologetic. Rosie narrowed her eyes and immediately reached for the nearest pillow. Whap. The fabric hit him square in the face. He barked a laugh, grabbing at the pillow too slowly as she hit him again.
“Katsuki,” she whined dramatically, lifting the pillow again.
“What?” he laughed, eyes crinkling in amusement. “I didn’t say anything!”
“You smirked at me, you cocky jerk!”
“You liked it.”
“Shut up!”
She kept hitting him until he caught the pillow mid-swing and tossed it to the side. Before she could scramble off him, his hands planted firmly on her hips, pulling her flush against him as he sat up in one smooth motion. And just like that, the air shifted. He was so close now—close enough that she could count every eyelash, see the faint scar above his left brow. Her breath hitched as his nose brushed hers. His eyes burned like dying embers, glowing with something he wasn’t ready to name.
“Katsuki…” she breathed, wide-eyed and frozen, her fingers still curled in the fabric of his shirt.
“Forget the kiss,” he rasped. His voice was hoarse, torn between desire and restraint. “I shouldn’t have done that and I’m sorry.”
But his grip on her hips didn’t loosen and neither of them moved away. Their foreheads nearly touched, the silence between them heavy with unsaid things, charged with the tension that seemed to hang around them like a second skin. Rosie’s lips parted as if to ask something, but he was already leaning in again, his hand slipping up her back, his breath fanning her cheek.
He was an inch away. A single inch.
“Oh my god.”
They both froze. Rosie’s eyes flew open in panic as she whipped her head toward the door.
There stood Maerya, arms crossed over her chest, eyebrows lifted and lips curved into a wicked smirk. “Next time, put a sock in the door. Or lock it,” she drawled.
Rosie scrambled off Katsuki so fast she nearly fell off the bed. “Maerya!”
Katsuki groaned, falling back against the mattress with his hands over his face.
Maerya just chuckled, backing out of the room with exaggerated slowness. “Don’t let me stop you. Just maybe wait ‘til the trauma haze clears a little before you devour each other.”
“Maerya!” Rosie shrieked, grabbing the pillow again and hurling it at the door as it closed.
From the other side, they heard a very satisfied, “Worth it.”
Rosie turned around, red-faced, mortified—and very aware that Katsuki was still lying there, smirking up at her with his arms folded behind his head.
“I hate her,” Rosie muttered, crawling back onto the bed and burying her face in her hands.
“Yeah?” he murmured. “I kinda wanna thank her.”
She groaned into her palms. “I swear to god—”
But she was laughing and he was watching her like she hung the stars in the sky.
Notes:
oh my, this chapter was a little hard to write just because I had moved some scenes around to fit and make sense butttt we got some more Katsuki and Rosie moments as we'll be exploring more of their relationship.
Rosie is traumatized and now because Momo pushed her to remember, she triggered those memories and will now be reliving her time with Kyoma...
I wish I could say this was the end of the drama but it's not because that would be too easy💖 anyway, lemme know your thoughts and I will see you in the next one!
Chapter 131: You glare at seagulls like they owe you money.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“How does this look?” Maerya asked, striking a pose with one hand on her hip and the other holding up a pair of oversized, hot pink, heart-shaped sunglasses.
Rosie giggled, eyeing her best friend. “Very subtle , Maerya.”
“I think they look amazing,” Kanako grinned, holding up a sleeker, black pair with pointed edges. “Now, what about these? Too dramatic or just the right amount of menace?”
Rosie tilted her head thoughtfully. “Very you , actually. Dangerous but chic.”
Kanako smirked. “Perfect. I’m buying them.”
“Here,” Kanako said suddenly, turning and thrusting a pair of red-framed sunglasses into Rosie’s hands. “These would look great on you—go on, try them.”
Rosie obediently slid them on and turned to the mirror, tilting her head side to side. “Hmm… Do they really suit me?”
“Yes,” Kanako and Maerya said in perfect unison.
“You look like a pop star from a 90s music video in the best way,” Maerya added.
Rosie laughed. “Alright, sold.”
After breakfast, those who were still at the beach house had decided to take the morning slow and head into town for some relaxed shopping. The air smelled like sea salt and sugar, the streets buzzing with the gentle hum of tourists and locals alike. It was one of those rare mornings where no one was in a rush, and everything felt light.
Since the drama of the previous night, the girls had split into smaller groups. Mina and Uraraka had gone to browse the more boutique side of town with Momo in tow, while Rosie walked alongside Maerya and Kanako, heading through the coastal market with artisan booths, beachside shops, and colorful carts selling shaved ice and smoothies. Jirou and Tsui went sightseeing. The guys had gone off to surf at sunrise, promising to meet them later for lunch and maybe rides at the boardwalk.
The three of them walked out of the sunglasses shop, new pairs in hand, sunlight glinting off their lenses as they strolled the cobbled street. Laughter and music drifted through the breeze as families wandered between shops and vendors called out their specials.
“I think I slept weird,” Kanako murmured as she reached behind her and rubbed at her lower back, grimacing slightly.
Maerya didn’t miss a beat. “Are you sure it wasn’t because you and Shinso couldn’t stop fucking? I think half the coastline heard you.”
Kanako’s cheeks exploded with color. “Did not !”
Rosie covered her mouth to keep from laughing. “Oh, no, she’s right. I heard you guys behind the sand dunes.”
Maerya burst out into cackling laughter, almost dropping her shopping bag. Kanako sputtered, eyes wide as she waved her hands. “I—we weren’t that loud! It wasn’t even that long!”
“Oh god,” Rosie said through a giggle, “don’t make it worse for yourself!”
“You both are the worst,” Kanako groaned, though the corners of her mouth tugged upward. “I can never show my face again.”
“You say that every time , and yet, here we are.” Maerya winked.
They continued walking, pausing to browse through stalls selling seashell jewelry, hand-dyed beach cover-ups, and woven straw hats. Rosie tried on a simple white sundress over her shorts and shirt and twirled in front of a mirror while the girls cheered her on. Kanako picked up a cute sunflower tote bag, and Maerya splurged on a pair of flip-flops with gold straps.
“Ooo, look at that stand—cotton candy and pineapple skewers!” Rosie pointed, her eyes lighting up as she practically skipped toward it.
“You and sugar,” Maerya teased, following behind her.
After grabbing snacks, they settled on a low stone wall near the shore, the ocean in perfect view.
“We should hit the pier later,” Kanako suggested as she bit into her skewer. “Boardwalk games, the Ferris wheel—get pictures for our socials.”
“Yes!” Rosie nodded, brushing her hair back as the ocean breeze tousled it. “I’ve never been to a coastal town like this before. I want the whole experience—rides, food, maybe even some of those cute matching anklets.”
“Oh, don’t tempt me,” Maerya said. “I’ll force you into matching outfits too.”
Rosie laughed.
“Come on,” Maerya said, standing and stretching her arms overhead. “Let’s find something else to spend money on before the boys show up and try to wrangle us into getting boring food.”
“Speak for yourself,” Kanako smirked. “I plan to wrangle Shinso into winning me a stuffed shark at the boardwalk later.”
“Ugh,” Maerya groaned. “I’m gonna be sick from all your fucking.”
Rosie just laughed, following her friends into the next shop, sunglasses perched on her nose and sunlight glowing against her skin.
Now sporting the white lace halter top she’d bought on impulse—one of many things she didn’t need but hadn’t been able to resist—Rosie walked with the gentle sway of someone who was warm, slightly tired, and full of seaside sunshine. Her tote bag was stuffed with trinkets: a snow globe for Eri that swirled with little gold stars and sea creatures, a “World’s Okayest Dad” t-shirt for her father (because he didn’t care for things, but she had to get him something). It felt nice to shop for people she cared about. It made her feel more grounded.
The girls had just stepped out of their final boutique, laughing at a ridiculous pair of seashell earrings Maerya had tried on, when Rosie nearly bumped into a familiar figure.
“Oh—Hiroshi,” she blinked, startled before offering a polite smile. “Lovely to see you.”
He was with two other guys. One of them… Rosie squinted. White hair, green eyes. She’d definitely seen him before somewhere. But she couldn’t place it.
“Hey,” Hiroshi smiled warmly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way that might’ve once made her stomach flip. But now, it didn’t as it just felt…off.
There was something about this moment that felt too tight, like a shoe that no longer fit. It didn’t help that both Maerya and Kanako stiffened beside her, their postures suddenly rigid and unreadable. She glanced between them, uneasy.
“You have the day off?” she asked, her voice a bit higher than normal—trying too hard to sound cheerful.
“Yeah,” he nodded, scratching the back of his neck like he always did when he was trying to act casual. “Have you had lunch yet?”
She opened her mouth to answer, but the words clung to the back of her throat. No, we haven’t. That would’ve been the easy and polite thing to do. The kind thing to say, but something pulled at her chest, something thick and complicated. She should say yes. It was harmless, right?
But then his confession from the day before slipped back into her mind— “I don’t want to be your friend, Rosie. I want to be your boyfriend.”
She hadn’t been ready for that, not from him. They’d gone on one date, he didn’t know her—not really. And now that her memories were slowly starting to trickle back like water through cupped hands, that dissonance only grew louder. She knew what real affection felt like. She remembered laughter with Shoto, girls nights with Tsui, hanging out with Shoji and talking about nothing. The way her chest would squeeze every time Katsuki looked at her too long.
And now Katsuki— Katsuki , with his guarded eyes and rough hands—he had kissed her like she was air, fire and earth all at once. He’d held her all night in bed like he couldn’t breathe without touching her. That hadn’t been platonic, not really, especially when her body had melted into his like she belonged there. She didn’t know what they were. They weren’t lovers, but nor were they friends. However, they were not nothing either.
Still, Katsuki had told her to walk away and she had. But he also kissed her. She was trapped somewhere between a beginning and an ending that hadn’t been clearly marked, and Hiroshi’s presence only added to the swirl of confusion.
Now, standing here under the hot midday sun, his question hanging in the air like a stone suspended by string, she felt pressure build behind her ribs. She didn’t want to say yes to going to lunch with him, nor did she want to pretend she felt anything for him.
But how do you say no to someone who’s only ever been nice to you?
She stammered, fumbling for something neutral, something kind. “Oh—I mean—we were just—uh—walking around and—”
“She’s got plans,” Maerya said flatly, stepping up beside her like a wall of steel.
“Yeah, actually,” Kanako added with a thin smile. “We’re meeting the guys soon. It’s kind of a thing.”
Rosie glanced at them, grateful and a little guilty.
Hiroshi’s smile faltered just slightly, but he recovered quickly.“Oh,” he said, nodding. “Of course. Maybe another time.”
She smiled, forcing it. “Maybe.”
As he and his friends walked away, she exhaled sharply, her shoulders falling, her stomach churned with a mix of guilt and relief.
“That guy gives me the creeps,” Maerya muttered.
Kanako scoffed. “He was looking at you like you were a snack he was already halfway through.”
“I know,” Rosie whispered. She hugged her tote to her chest. “It’s just… hard. He’s never been mean to me.”
Maerya glanced at her sideways. “Sweetheart, a guy doesn’t have to be mean to be wrong. ”
Rosie didn’t answer right away. She stared out at the sparkling sea, wondering why her heart felt so heavy. Everything was muddled. She remembered the sound of Katsuki’s voice in her ear, whispering that she was safe, the way he’d looked at her last night. The way her chest had ached with something she couldn’t name when he touched her.
Why was it always him? Why couldn’t it be Hiroshi, or someone simple, someone safe? Why does it always lead back to Katsuki?
“Come on,” Maerya said gently, tugging her hand. “Let’s get some food in you as you look like your brain’s on fire again.”
Rosie nodded slowly, letting herself be led away down the sunny boardwalk, lost in thought but most especially in him.
The restaurant perched high above the ocean, all sleek coastal glass and warm wood beams, open-air with sea breeze slipping between white linen curtains. The golden sun was dipping low, casting a warm glow over the waves and washing the entire space in a romantic, sun-kissed light. A long table had been pushed together to accommodate their large group—already loud with laughter, chatter, and the clinking of glasses.
Rosie arrived with Maerya and Kanako just behind her, all three of them flushed from the walk and the salt air. Her tote bag hung at her side, stuffed with sunglasses, receipts, souvenirs and snacks she definitely didn’t need. The noise of the group was comforting, familiar. Kaminari was throwing his head back laughing while Tokoyami made some dry, offbeat remark. Mina and Uraraka were whispering behind their hands like schoolgirls. Shinso nursed a beer with a bored look on his face that didn’t quite reach his amused eyes. Shoji and Kirishima were in a heated debate about the best surf wax while Jirou and Tsui listened in, shaking their heads.
The only two who noticed her immediately were Shoto—and Katsuki. Shoto offered her a small smile, subtle but welcoming. Katsuki’s eyes barely flicked up to meet hers, but he didn’t look away. Before Rosie could make the decision herself, Maerya gave her a push between the shoulder blades and Kanako not-so-subtly nudged her toward the empty seat between the two boys.
“Go,” Maerya whispered under her breath, eyes pointedly darting toward Momo, who sat several chairs away with her gaze fixed somewhere far, far away.
Rosie, hesitant, lowered herself between Katsuki and Shoto. Her muscles were tense. The laughter around her muffled slightly as her anxiety crept in, but when nothing happened—no cruel words, no stormy confrontation—she breathed a little easier. Conversation swelled around her again.
“I think I’m sunburnt in places I didn’t even know could get sunburned,” Kaminari announced, lifting the hem of his shirt slightly as Mina cackled.
“You should’ve reapplied,” Uraraka said, tossing a napkin at him.
“I did! ” Kaminari wailed. “But it was before I got tackled into the ocean by a certain grumpy blonde.”
Katsuki scoffed beside her, arms crossed over his chest. “You deserved it for saying the water felt ‘too cold for a man of science.’ What the hell does that even mean?”
Shinso raised his glass. “Means he needs to shut up more often.”
Laughter rippled around the table. Rosie found herself relaxing, just letting the conversation wash over her like tidewater. She sipped her water and let the low hum of chatter soothe her.
That was when the waitress returned, her tray expertly balanced with frosted glasses and colorful drinks. She set beers in front of the guys, a lemonade for Uraraka, a fruit spritzer for Mina. Rosie smiled and started to thank the waitress before she set down a tall, frosty strawberry margarita delicately in front of her, sugar lining the rim, a strawberry perched on the edge.
“Oh—I didn’t—” she started to say.
“She didn’t order that,” Kanako added, a little too fast, her tone protective.
But before the waitress could answer, Katsuki spoke. “I ordered it,” he muttered, not even looking at her. “Just drink it.”
Rosie blinked, her cheeks blooming with heat.
It was such a simple thing, him ordering her a drink, but something about the way he said it—casual and gruff, like it was no big deal—made her heart flutter. It was the way he cared, despite him being rough around the edges, no frills, no declarations. Just silent, thoughtful action.
“Thank you,” she said softly, glancing over at him.
Katsuki didn’t respond. He just lifted his beer to his lips, eyes fixed on the ocean beyond, as though the entire exchange hadn’t just made her stomach swoop.
She took a sip. It was delicious, cold, sweet and tangy with just the right amount of tequila to make her shoulders loosen. She glanced back at him, her lips curling slightly around the rim of her glass.
Maybe Maerya was right as it had never really been about Hiroshi. That flutter in her chest, that slow burn deep in her bones—it had always, quietly, fiercely… been about him.
Rosie looked over the rim of her margarita, watching Katsuki as he sipped from his beer, jaw set, brows knitted like usual. The sea breeze tousled his already-messy hair, and the orange-gold of the sun hit just right, casting shadows over his sharp cheekbones and making his eyes burn even brighter in contrast.
“Why are you always frowning?” she asked softly, voice edged with teasing warmth.
Without missing a beat, he snorted. “Why are you always existing near me with sunshine?”
Rosie laughed, licking the sugar off the rim of her glass before taking another big sip. “I think the real question is why you’re always existing near me, Grumpy.”
He side-eyed her, unimpressed. “You’re loud.”
“You’re moody.”
“You talk to birds.”
She grinned. “You glare at seagulls like they owe you money.”
Katsuki cracked the tiniest smirk, head tilting. “They do owe me. One stole my damn sandwich last summer.”
That made her laugh so hard she had to put her drink down, and then he cracked a smile. “You should smile more.”
“You smile more than enough for the both of us,” he took a swig of his beer before setting it down.
“Sounds like an excuse to me,” she countered before reaching for the menu in front of her, brow furrowing as she scanned it, eyes bouncing between two different dishes. “Ugh, I can’t decide…”
“What’re you stuck on?” he asked, glancing over.
“The shrimp plater or the crab ravioli. I want both.”
“So get both,” he said simply.
“I can’t get both,” she pouted. “I want ice cream after.”
“You always want ice cream after.”
“Exactly!”
He rolled his eyes, amused. “I’ve seen you put food away like a soldier after a week of rationing.”
Rosie gasped, clutching her chest with exaggerated offense. “Are you making fun of me?”
“No,” he said with a dry smirk, “just pointing out facts. You can eat when you want to. No shame in it.”
Her face went red, a mix of embarrassment and flattery warming her from the inside out. She stuck her tongue out at him, pouting again.
Shoto, ever the quiet observer on her other side, chuckled lightly into his water. “You could always just order one and take the other to go. Eat it later if you’re still hungry.”
Rosie lit up. “Oh! That’s actually a great idea.”
Katsuki muttered under his breath, “Yeah, but we all know she’s not waiting until later.”
“Hey!” she huffed, throwing a rolled napkin at him.
He caught it midair with reflexive ease and dropped it on his plate without looking at her. “You’re predictable, doll. ”
She narrowed her eyes, cheeks glowing. “And you’re insufferable.”
“Still here, though.”
“Still here,” she echoed, almost without thinking—softer, almost fond and based on the way he looked at her for just a second too long told her maybe… just maybe… he felt it too.
Something about eating an ice cream cone at the beach just felt right . Rosie couldn’t explain it—maybe it was the sun, the sea breeze, the salt on her skin mixing with the sweetness—but nothing hit quite like it. She was currently nursing a perfectly stacked strawberry waffle cone, each lick bringing her a little slice of happiness.
Some of their friends had wandered off after lunch—either to nap back at the beach house or head back down to the sand. But Rosie, along with Mina, Kirishima, Jirou, and Denki, had made the unanimous decision that dessert was non-negotiable.
“This is so good ,” Mina practically purred, her eyes fluttering closed as she took another bite of her mango sorbet.
They were gathered around a round metal table just outside the little beachside ice cream parlor, shaded by a large red-and-white umbrella that flapped gently in the breeze. Laughter and the distant sound of ocean waves painted a perfect picture of coastal summer.
Denki, holding a half-eaten cone of mint chocolate chip, leaned precariously close to Jirou, who was calmly working through her scoop of espresso chip in a cup.
“Just a taste?” he pleaded, eyeing hers with longing. “Come on, you said you didn’t even like the chocolate chunks!”
“That doesn’t mean you get to steal it,” Jirou snapped, elbowing him hard enough to make him almost drop his own cone. “Back off, leech.”
Kirishima laughed, stretching his long arm across the table. “Here, man—want some of mine? It’s rocky road.”
Denki perked up. “Seriously? You’re the best , bro—”
Before he could make the reach, Mina flicked a drop of her ice cream at him with her spoon. “You’re such a freeloader.”
Rosie giggled, watching the antics as she licked another slow stripe of strawberry off her cone. Feeling generous, she leaned toward Denki with a smile. “You can have a bite of mine if you want. I’m almost full anyway.”
“Ooh—don’t mind if I—”
Just as Denki leaned in with an open mouth, a low growl cut through the air.
A hand, warm and familiar, snatched Rosie’s wrist mid-air. She blinked, startled, as Katsuki swooped in from behind, guiding her hand—and her cone—away from Denki and straight to his mouth instead. He took a large bite of the strawberry scoop, his crimson eyes flicking toward Denki with a flash of warning.
“…Dude,” Denki whined, throwing his head back dramatically. “You guys are so mean to me! ”
Rosie stared at her now much smaller scoop and gasped. “Katsuki! That was so mean! ”
He merely shrugged, licking a bit of melted ice cream off his thumb like it didn’t faze him. “If he wants more, he can get his own damn cone. You were offering mine. ”
“I was being nice!”
“Don’t waste it on him.”
Rosie pouted, holding her cone protectively now, though the damage had already been done. “You’re such a bully.”
“Yeah,” Denki muttered with crossed arms, “ thank you. ”
Rosie squinted at Katsuki’s cone—caramel and vanilla swirl, with visible chunks of dark chocolate. It looked so good.
“Can I have a bite of yours?” she asked, fluttering her lashes just a bit.
Katsuki’s expression didn’t shift much, but his eyes warmed. “Yeah, yeah. Come here.”
He held the cone up for her, and Rosie leaned in, placing her hand gently over his to steady it. She took a small, careful bite, the mix of sweet caramel, cool vanilla, and bittersweet chocolate melting on her tongue.
“Mmm…” she smiled up at him. “Thanks. That’s really good.”
“Told you.” He smirked slightly, watching her with a little too much intensity for someone eating ice cream.
Beside them, Denki groaned. “I’m surrounded by traitors. I hope I drop my cone so someone feels bad for me.”
“You would weaponize pity,” Jirou muttered.
Rosie just laughed again, stealing one more tiny bite of Katsuki’s before leaning back in her seat, content and full of sunshine and sugar.
The sun bathed the beach town in a golden haze, casting long shadows and warm light over the shops and palm-lined streets. The six of them—Rosie, Katsuki, Denki, Kirishima, Mina, and Jirou—strolled leisurely along the boardwalk, weaving between surf shops, small boutiques, and food stalls.
Rosie adjusted her tote on her shoulder, the hem of her white lace halter fluttering in the sea breeze. Her cheeks were still a bit flushed from the ice cream incident earlier, especially with how smug Katsuki had looked afterward, walking beside her like nothing had happened.
Denki and Katsuki were ahead, naturally going back and forth like kids in a sibling rivalry.
“I’m just saying,” Denki insisted, arms gesturing wildly, “if I had my board, I’d totally be able to ride that break.”
“You’d faceplant five seconds in,” Katsuki scoffed without even glancing at him.
“I would not! ” Denki argued. “I’ve got excellent balance.”
“Sure,” Katsuki snorted, “until your brain short-circuits again and you forget which way is up.”
“ Once. That happened one time! ”
Kirishima laughed, walking at Rosie’s side, completely unfazed by their bickering. “Ignore them,” he said to her, grinning. “They’ll tire themselves out eventually.”
She smiled, watching them with amusement. “Is it always like this?”
“Pretty much. You get used to it.”
They passed a surf shop with boards stacked in bright neon colors outside, the sign swinging in the ocean wind. Kirishima gestured toward it. “Y’know, I bet you’d be a great surfer.”
Rosie looked up at him with a skeptical arch of her brow. “You think so?”
“Totally,” he nodded confidently. “You’ve got balance, determination, and zero fear once you put your mind to something. Plus, you’re small, so you’ll move fast on the board.”
“Small? Is that code for easily thrown by waves?” she teased.
“Small like aerodynamic,” he grinned.
Katsuki glanced back just in time to hear that, eyes narrowing slightly but he said nothing—just kept walking with his hands shoved in his pockets.
“Honestly,” Mina piped up from behind, looping her arm through Jirou’s, “if we’re gonna talk about wild things to do, we should definitely hit that beach party tonight.”
Jirou raised an eyebrow, her earbuds tucked into the collar of her shirt. “Beach party?”
“Yeah! Some locals are throwing it at that big sandbar past the dunes. Bonfire, music, dancing—it’ll be fun! And we already look amazing.”
“Speak for yourself,” Jirou muttered dryly, though a faint smile tugged at her lips.
“You’re coming,” Mina declared. “No arguments.”
Rosie turned to look at them. “That actually sounds really nice.”
“Right?” Mina beamed. “Drinks, music, moonlight—it’s like something out of a summer movie. And who knows…” she waggled her brows toward Rosie, “… something romantic could happen. ”
Rosie rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her amusement. She peeked ahead at Katsuki, still locked in another argument with Denki about tide patterns and board weight.
“You guys coming to the party too?” she asked aloud.
Katsuki grunted, “Tch. Might.”
Denki threw his hands up dramatically. “ I’m going. Someone has to DJ, and clearly Jirou won’t do it.”
“I’ll go,” Kirishima nodded. “Can’t miss a good party.”
“Then it’s settled!” Mina grinned as they all crossed the street toward another row of shops. “But first—we find matching anklets, sunscreen that smells like vanilla, and maybe convince Rosie to buy a swimsuit she’ll actually wear in front of Bakugou this time.”
“Mina!”
Katsuki, without turning, growled, “The hell does that mean?”
Mina only smirked deviously, skipping ahead as the wind carried her laughter through the air. Rosie, pink in the face, covered her eyes with her hand and muttered, “I’m going to kill her.”
Jirou snorted. “You won’t. You love her too much.”
Rosie sighed dramatically. “Unfortunately, yes.”
The bathroom looked like a beauty tornado had touched down. Lip glosses were uncapped and scattered beside eyeshadow palettes cracked open like treasure chests. Curling irons and flat irons hissed with heat on the counter, surrounded by clouds of setting spray and the sweet scent of coconut hair oil. Pop music pulsed from a Bluetooth speaker in the corner, something catchy and upbeat, fueling the flurry of feminine energy echoing off the tiled walls.
Rosie stood in front of the mirror, lightly tapping a rosy highlighter on her cheekbones as Maerya expertly worked on Kanako’s eyeliner wings beside her. All three girls wore cute crop tops and beach skirts or shorts, their swimsuits peeking out beneath their outfits.
“We are going to shut that party down tonight,” Maerya declared, tugging her curls into a half-up twist and pinning them with glimmering star clips. “If I don’t get at least one free drink, I’ve failed as a woman.”
Kanako laughed, fluffing her hair. “You’ll get five, let’s be real.”
Rosie giggled, adjusting the straps of her halter-style bikini top beneath her crochet crop. “I can’t believe Mina talked everyone into this.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Maerya smirked. “Admit it—you like the chaos.”
“Maybe…” Rosie grinned, but it was playful, her eyes sparkling in the mirror’s reflection. She stepped back, giving herself one last look. “I’m gonna go find Maya and feed her before we leave.”
Maerya and Kanako gave her a distracted wave as they turned their focus to mascara and false lashes.
Barefoot, Rosie padded out of the bathroom and down the hallway, the music and laughter from upstairs fading as she descended the staircase into the warm golden light of the living room.
She stopped in her tracks at the sight that met her.
There, sprawled comfortably across Katsuki’s lap on the couch, was Maya—completely blissed out, tiny paws sticking straight into the air as she enjoyed slow, steady belly rubs. Her little sunhat was slightly askew, her tongue lolling out in satisfaction as she wriggled now and then for a better scratch.
Katsuki didn’t even seem to notice how soft he looked, one hand idly rubbing her belly while the other nursed a drink on the table beside him. His face was relaxed as he bantered with Kirishima, Denki, Shoji and Shinso, all of them locked in a heated debate about the best strategy in some multiplayer video game.
“I’m just saying,” Kaminari was gesturing with a chip in hand, “you can’t run solo without backup in that mission, bro. It’s suicide.”
“Maybe if your aim didn’t suck,” Katsuki snorted without missing a beat, his eyes still on Maya as she rolled to her side.
Rosie quietly approached, heart warming at the sight. Maya barely acknowledged her at first, too lost in the glory of being pampered. When she did open one eye to see Rosie, she gave a lazy little tail wag, as if to say, Do not disturb. I’m in heaven.
Rosie crossed her arms and looked at Katsuki with a knowing smirk. “So… this is what you do when I’m not around?”
He glanced up at her, brow raised. “She came over here on her own. I was just minding my business.”
“Sure you were,” she drawled. “And yet she looks like she owns you.”
Katsuki looked down at Maya, then back up at Rosie with a shrug. “She’s got good taste.”
Rosie bit the inside of her cheek to hide her smile, watching as Maya gave one last wriggle of delight. “Well, it’s feeding time. Sorry, but I need to steal her back.”
Maya let out a tiny yip of protest as Rosie gently scooped her up into her arms. Katsuki smirked and leaned back, his eyes flickering over Rosie’s outfit now that she was up close.
“You look good,” he said casually, like he was commenting on the weather. But there was something in the way his gaze lingered just a second longer.
Rosie flushed faintly but just smiled. “Thanks,” she said, shifting Maya in her arms. “You don’t look bad yourself.”
Kirishima wolf-whistled behind her and Denki raised his brows, muttering, “We’re witnessing something here…”
Rosie rolled her eyes and walked away, hiding the way her grin grew wider. Katsuki responded in kind by flashing the middle finger as they went back to talking about some game called Markov.
Notes:
so a bit more fluff this chapter but there will be some spice and drama next chapter🤭👌🏻
as always lemme know your thoughts and I’ll see you in the next one
Chapter 132: I can’t keep proving myself to someone who won’t believe in me no matter what I do.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
What was supposed to be a small beach party quickly proved to be anything but.
Rosie stepped down from the grassy dune path barefoot, her toes sinking into cool sand as she took in the scene in front of her. What she’d expected to be a modest get-together—maybe fifty people tops, some music, a few drinks—had exploded into a full-blown beach rave. String lights stretched in a canopy between driftwood poles and palm trees, casting a golden, flickering glow across the sand. Tables littered with bottles of liquor, mixers, plastic cups, fruit trays, and melting ice gleamed under fairy lights. The music pulsed low and rhythmic, bass vibrating through the soles of her feet.
There were so many people. Strangers she didn’t recognize, friends of friends, locals, and out-of-towners all dressed in swimsuits and light party wear, dancing, talking, laughing. Some were already drunk, voices loud, laughter tipping into chaos. Others were gathered near the water—some swimming, some just standing waist-deep under the moonlight. A couple further down the beach were tangled together, half-shielded by shadow and tall grasses, but the string lights made everything just visible enough to keep it from crossing into dangerous territory. People were watching, keeping an eye out on those in the water. Still, the sense of reckless abandon buzzed in the air like static.
Rosie hesitated, clutching her drink a little tighter. The air was thick with the scent of saltwater, sunscreen, and alcohol, the kind of overwhelming cocktail that made her throat tighten. Her heart stuttered in her chest. She wasn’t sure what it was—maybe the noise, the crowd, or the unfamiliar faces—but the easy excitement that had filled her earlier on the walk over began to fray at the edges.
Too much.
Then a chilled glass touched her hand—something fruity and pink fizzing at the rim—and she looked up to see Maerya grinning, holding her own drink aloft.
“Drink,” she said, bumping her glass to Rosie’s. “It’ll help.”
Rosie blinked, then managed a small smile and took a long sip. The tang of watermelon and vodka met her tongue, spreading warmth through her chest, causing her nerves to soften, just a little. She exhaled slowly.
That was when Mina appeared out of nowhere and grabbed her hand with a delighted squeal. “You’re not standing around tonight, Rosie!” she shouted over the music, tugging her toward the makeshift dance area in the sand.
Maerya linked arms with her other side, while Kanako—already bouncing in place to the beat—whooped and spun ahead of them. “C’mon! If we’re here, we’re dancing.”
The music throbbed through the night, and Rosie found herself pulled into a glowing circle of bodies—strangers and friends alike—moving beneath the lights. Her feet moved hesitantly at first, awkward and uncertain, but Maerya bumped her hip, grinning. “Loosen up! No one here’s watching you. They’re too busy making out or doing body shots.”
Rosie laughed despite herself, her heartbeat syncing with the beat of the music as she slowly started moving, feeling the sand shift beneath her bare feet. The cool breeze rolled in off the water, and with every sip of her drink and every sway of her hips, the tension in her chest began to dissolve. This night was wild, growing more chaotic by the minute.
The bass of the music thumped through the sand, vibrating up her legs as Rosie stepped away from the makeshift dancefloor. Her skin glistened with sweat and salt, and her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol and warmth of the crowd. She weaved around a pair of people making out by a tiki torch and approached the long table lined with drinks—bottles half-emptied, cups scattered, mixers sticky from spilled soda and tequila.
As she reached for the bottle of strawberry rum, her eyes flicked across the fire-lit party and froze.
Across the sand, just outside the glow of the string lights, Katsuki stood with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable—until a girl stepped into his space. Tall, dark-haired, model-slim in a silver bikini that shimmered like moonlight, she giggled and trailed a manicured finger along his forearm. She leaned in close, saying something into his ear that made her laugh harder. Her hand rested on his chest.
Rosie blinked, her heart dropping. Her fingers tightened around the plastic cup in her hand. Why… why did her stomach feel like it had just curled in on itself? Why was her throat suddenly dry and her chest tight?
She frowned and poured more rum into her cup. “Whatever,” she muttered under her breath. “He can talk to whoever he wants.”
But the words sounded hollow, even to her. She raised the cup to her lips and downed the drink in one long swallow, the sharp burn coating her tongue and throat. Her face scrunched, and her eyes watered—but it gave her something else to focus on. Anything other than that girl’s hand still pressed to Katsuki’s chest.
“Everything alright?” The voice came from her side—Hiroshi. His hands were tucked casually in his pockets, his smile easy but his brows furrowed with concern.
Rosie straightened, shaking her head. “Yeah. I’m fine.” But her voice lacked conviction.
He glanced in the direction she’d been looking, eyes narrowing slightly before he looked back at her. “You sure?”
She gave a quick nod. “Yeah. Just… just need another drink.”
“I can get it for you, if you want?” he offered, holding his hand out for her cup.
She hesitated, then handed it over. “Thanks,” she murmured, gaze flicking back toward Katsuki—who still hadn’t moved from that girl’s orbit.
Hiroshi returned a moment later with a freshly filled drink, and Rosie took it with a grateful smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She threw it back—downing it even quicker than the last one. Her hands were starting to feel a little numb, her lips tingling, but the ache in her chest hadn’t dulled at all.
“Hey,” she said suddenly, grabbing Hiroshi’s arm. “Dance with me?”
He blinked, surprised by the request. “I’d love to,” he chuckled. “But I’ve gotta go check on my friends. I’m the designated driver tonight.”
“Oh.”
He smiled and gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “Rain check?”
She nodded mutely and turned back toward the crowd—her vision hazy from the mix of lights, booze, and emotion. Across the fire, the girl laughed again—her fingers now curling around Katsuki’s wrist. Rosie stood there, drink in hand, wondering why it suddenly felt like her heart was breaking.
Rosie didn’t know how much longer she stood there—watching, aching, unraveling. Her fingertips were cold now, the drink sloshing in her half-empty cup, long since forgotten. The girl with the silver bikini was still pressed too close to Katsuki, too familiar, smug, and amused.
Was he smiling? No, not exactly, but he wasn’t moving away either, wasn’t brushing her off.
Her chest throbbed—slow and deep, like something was crawling up her throat, begging to be let out. Why do I care so much? she thought, her nails digging into her palm. Why does it feel like my heart is breaking when I barely know him anymore?
“Fuck this,” she muttered and slammed the rest of her drink back.
The beat of the music was a pulsing heartbeat in the sand. Without thinking— or maybe because she didn’t want to think —Rosie stepped into the thrumming crowd, the haze of bodies moving around her like a tide. She let it consume her, let herself drown in it.
A guy brushed past her, then turned and gave her a cocky little smile. Blond, tall, maybe a little too much cologne. But he didn’t hesitate—he placed his hands on her hips and swayed in rhythm, guiding her with practiced ease. She didn’t stop him or rather she couldn’t, not when her heart felt like it was bleeding down her ribs.
His hand curled around the back of her neck, his mouth moving toward her ear, murmuring something she didn’t hear. She barely registered her own laughter—high, breathless, desperate. She tilted her head back, let her hair fall, let the stranger spin her.
Then she felt him, that familiar, scorching heat against her back followed by a growl that vibrated from behind her. A strong hand wrapped around her wrist and yanked her away from the stranger with brutal precision.
“Don’t fucking touch her,” Katsuki snapped at the guy, his voice low and dangerous, feral.
Rosie stumbled as he dragged her from the crowd, her heart crashing into her ribs like a hammer. “Let me go!” she hissed, shoving at his chest. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”
He stopped once they were far from the crowd, under the shadowed edge of the dunes. His eyes, darkened to molten crimson, glowed in the low light. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing out there with him?”
“I was dancing, ” she snapped, voice sharp, “or is that not allowed unless it’s with you?”
“You were grinding on some random asshole like you didn’t know what you were doing—”
“ I don’t know what I’m doing! ” she shouted, chest heaving. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore because—” her voice cracked. “ You keep showing up, making me feel things, kissing me and then acting like it didn’t happen, looking at other girls while I stand there like an idiot wondering why I even care.”
Katsuki’s face twisted, something fractured behind his eyes. “You think I wanted her?”
“I don’t know what to think!” she yelled, her hands trembling. “I don’t even know what you are to me! A friend? An enemy? Some ghost who saved me and now haunts me every time you look at me like you feel something and then say nothing at all!”
Katsuki moved—fast. His hand caught her waist, pulling her into him so hard she gasped. “You want to know what I am to you?”
She blinked, stunned by how close he was, how his breath fanned across her lips. “Wh-What?”
She shook her head, stepping back from him, wiping the tears from her cheek with a shaky hand. “I need air and space.”
“Rosie—”
“Just… don’t follow me, ” she said, and this time her voice didn’t waver.
The music from the beach party thudded in the distance, drowned out by the crashing waves and the harsh wind that tugged at Momo’s ponytail as she stood in front of Shoto beneath the glow of the boardwalk lights.
Her fists were clenched at her sides, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths, eyes already glassy with unshed tears. Shoto stood across from her, his expression cool—but not cold. Beneath the surface was a storm of emotions, carefully restrained.
“You didn’t even look for me,” Momo hissed. “You’ve been dancing around me all night like I’m some burden you can’t wait to be rid of.”
“I can’t keep having this same argument with you,” Shoto said quietly, his voice tight. “It’s always the same thing—over and over.”
“Maybe that’s because you never give me a real answer! You always shut down and retreat! How am I supposed to feel secure in anything when you won’t fight for me?!”
Shoto’s jaw clenched. “I have fought for you. Again and again. But what you want isn’t a fight. You want a battlefield where I bleed just to prove my feelings.”
Momo stepped closer, her voice shaking. “If you loved me enough, you wouldn’t make me question—”
He moved faster than she could finish. His hand reached out, cupping the back of her neck, and he kissed her—firm, desperate, and unforgiving.
When he pulled back, his breath was ragged, his heterochromatic eyes stormy. “Stop assuming what I feel. You say I don’t love you enough—but what about you? Have you ever stopped to ask if you love me ? Or if you just need me to fill the hollow spaces when your own doubts consume you?”
Her lip quivered. “That’s not fair—”
“It is fair,” he snapped, stepping back from her. “You prioritize your insecurity over the reality of what we’ve had. And now you’ve started punishing other people for it.”
She blinked, confused, wounded. “You mean Rosie.”
“Yes,” he said firmly. “You lashed out at her, cornered her in a room full of people, when she’s still barely able to sleep through the night. You shattered her peace because you needed answers and couldn’t control your emotions. And now she’s paying the price.”
Momo’s tears finally fell. “I didn’t mean to. I swear—I just—I felt like I was losing you, and I panicked.”
He softened only slightly, his voice quieter but just as cutting. “I know you didn’t mean to. I know you’re a good person, Momo. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t hurt her. And you didn’t just hurt her—you hurt me. ”
She looked away, shaking her head, guilt beginning to coil in her chest.
Shoto took a breath, steadying himself. “You’ve been struggling with this since U.A. Long before the war. And yes—it got worse after. But the truth is, we’ve been circling this drain for a long time. And I don’t know if I can pull us out of it alone.”
Her shoulders trembled.
“I wanted to help you,” he added, quieter. “I wanted to be there. But you have to let me. You have to stop making me the villain every time your fears surface. Because I can’t… I can’t keep proving myself to someone who won’t believe in me no matter what I do.”
She looked back at him, eyes full of heartbreak.
Shoto’s gaze held hers, no longer cold—but tired. “And if you love me like you say you do, then you owe it to both of us to start listening. To stop treating Rosie like the enemy just because she’s part of the pain you haven’t dealt with.”
Silence settled between them, heavy and suffocating.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered at last. “I didn’t realize…”
“I know,” he said, softer now. “But it’s time to start realizing. For your sake and ours.”
And with that, he turned, leaving her standing alone beneath the golden light of the boardwalk, the waves roaring just behind her—drowning out the sound of her quiet sobs.
Maerya was laughing, leaning against Shoji as he quietly murmured something in her ear. The way he shyly looked away afterward made her grin even wider.
“You’re cute when you try to flirt,” she teased.
“I’m not trying,” he said smoothly, though his blush betrayed him.
They were standing just a little off the main party, where the firelight melted into shadows and the ocean breeze carried laughter and the rhythmic pulse of music. For once, Maerya felt relaxed and comfortable. Shoji was warm beside her, his presence steady and safe. She liked that. Really liked how things were growing between them.
Her hand had just brushed against his when movement caught her attention. She glanced toward the dunes and raised a brow. “Oh for fuck’s sake.”
From the shadows, Kanako and Shinso stumbled into view, hand in hand and very much disheveled. Both were flushed, drunk, and covered in hickeys that glittered under the string lights. Shinso looked smug while Kanako looked dizzy with satisfaction.
Maerya snorted, “Really?”
Kanako stuck her tongue out as if to say don’t judge me.
But Maerya’s grin faltered. “Wait… wasn’t Rosie supposed to be with you?”
Kanako blinked, confused. “She was—like thirty minutes ago. She said she was getting another drink.”
Maerya’s stomach dipped, that was after she saw her after the fight with Katsuki, and that was—God, way more than thirty minutes ago.
“I’ll be right back,” she told Shoji quickly, patting his arm as she pulled away and began weaving through the crowd, eyes scanning for a flash of pink and white or the glint of Rosie’s hair.
She searched by the tables first, then the bar, the fire pit, and near the speakers where people were dancing. Nothing. With a rising sense of unease, she strode straight to a table by the edge of the party where Katsuki was sitting with Kirishima and Denki. The three of them were watching a group of guys loudly playing some kind of messy, half-spilled drinking game.
Katsuki had a half-full bottle in his hand, but he wasn’t drunk, when Rosie was around he never really let himself be, but that one time.
“Katsuki,” Maerya snapped, marching right up to him.
He raised a brow. “What?”
“Where is Rosie?”
The lazy amusement on his face vanished. He stood immediately. “What do you mean?”
“She’s not with Kanako or me. I thought she was with you—after that whole… thing. ”
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “She’s not with you ?”
“No!” Maerya snapped, panic climbing in her voice. “Kanako said she left her to get a drink half an hour ago. I thought she was with you after your fight.”
He looked around the crowd sharply, his shoulders going rigid. “I haven’t seen her since then.”
Kirishima stood too. “That’s not like her. She wouldn’t just disappear like that.”
“Especially not after the week she’s had,” Denki muttered, sobering up.
Maerya’s breath hitched. “I have a bad feeling.”
Katsuki was already moving, “come on. We’re finding her now.”
“Should we split up?” Kirishima asked.
“No,” Katsuki growled. “We stay together. If someone fucking touched her—”
Maerya’s heart thundered as the four of them started pushing through the crowd, calling Rosie’s name, dread creeping in the edges of her mind like smoke. She had a terrible, awful feeling that something was very, very wrong.
Notes:
hahaha please don't kill me butttt like I said spice and drama is in plenty on this trip👌🏻
Happy Birthday to FanaticAlternatives🥳💖 I hope you have a lovely birthday and I hope you have a great day💕
I hope you guys had a great time with this chapter, lemme know your thoughts and I will see you in the next one💖
Chapter 133: You hate everyone but me.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki’s boots dug into the sand harder with every step as they moved past the last strings of lights and into the darker, quieter edges of the beach. His flashlight swung back and forth in a steady arc as they swept the terrain, but his heart was anything but steady.
He didn’t like this, didn’t like the silence, didn’t like the gnawing pressure in his gut that told him something wasn’t right.
“Anything?” he barked over his shoulder.
“Nothing yet,” Kirishima called.
Maerya was a few feet ahead, her phone raised high. Denki flanked the side, peering behind some brush near the dunes. The further they got from the party, the harder Katsuki’s fists clenched, jaw tight as concrete.
Rosie wouldn’t just vanish, not unless something was wrong. Then, a sound, small and choked followed by a whimper.
Katsuki’s blood ran cold. He held up a hand and hissed, “Stop.”
They froze, there it was again. A weak cry followed by a broken sob.
“ Rosie… ”
He sprinted before the others even registered the sound, feet pounding over sand and broken shells as he shoved past the edge of the dunes, the flashlight beam bouncing wildly.
“ROSIE!”
The beam caught something pale and small curled on the ground. She was slumped half against a low bush, her legs askew, one sandal missing. Vomit streaked her sweater, and her trembling hand was braced in the sand as she heaved again, dry and raw.
His breath left him in a curse. “ Shit—Rosie! ”
He was on his knees beside her in seconds, cradling her before she could even register who it was. Her head lolled, face pale and slick with sweat. There was a large gnash and cut along her forearm, slowly knitting itself closed, but still bleeding profusely down her hand.
“Rosie—fuck, look at me. ” His voice cracked. He cupped her cheeks, eyes searching her pupils—blown wide, too wide, not to mention they were dilated and glassy.
“Katsuki…?” she rasped, confused, voice slurring. “I don’… I don’ feel good.”
“Shit. Shit—someone drugged her. ” His fury roared up like a wildfire, but he shoved it down. He couldn’t be angry, not now, not when she needed him.
He grabbed her wrists gently, checking for more injuries as she whimpered, barely able to sit up. “You’re okay. I got you. I’m here, doll.”
Her body felt like it barely had bones—soft and shaking. She pressed her face into his chest, weak and gasping.
Maerya reached them, falling to her knees with a horrified gasp. “Oh my god.”
Kirishima and Denki came next.
“I’m calling an ambulance,” Denki said, already dialing.
“Check her back,” Maerya whispered, voice shaking.
Katsuki carefully turned her, hands moving with agonizing gentleness as he looked her over, checking her shoulders, spine, waist.
“No other wounds, no bruising.” His jaw tightened. “But she’s burning up.”
Rosie moaned again, hands fisting weakly in his shirt. “Katsuki…” Her voice was small. Barely there. “Don’t… go.”
“I’m not leaving you,” he whispered, clutching her close to his chest like something sacred. “I promise.”
And in that moment, something inside him snapped. He was going to find whoever did this, and they were going to wish they’d never been born. But first—he had to save her, and keep her awake.
Katsuki’s arms tightened around Rosie’s trembling frame, her skin cold and clammy against his own as he gently rocked her, grounding her with his touch. She was shaking so hard it felt like her bones might come apart, her breath hitching in broken sobs between bouts of dry heaving and dazed whimpers.
Maerya crouched beside them, her face drawn tight with worry as she pressed her hand to Rosie’s forehead. “She’s burning up… whoever did this—whoever gave her something—she needs to be checked out now. ”
Kirishima stood protectively nearby, speaking low into the phone to the emergency responders while Denki paced in tight circles, fists clenched. Everyone was tense, but it was Maerya who broke the stillness with resolve in her voice.
“Katsuki… you need to carry her back to the house.” Her gaze flicked to the blood on Rosie’s arm, to her drenched clothes. “Clean her up a little before the ambulance gets here. She shouldn’t be like this when they find her—covered in blood and puke.”
Katsuki didn’t hesitate.
With utmost care, he stood, lifting Rosie into his arms. She barely weighed anything in that moment, light and limp against his chest. Her head lolled against his shoulder as he held her close, her breath coming in uneven shudders. His jaw clenched, eyes dark with fury and guilt as he started toward the house. “Don’t you dare fall asleep,” he murmured against her hair. “You hear me? Stay with me.”
“I’m ‘wake,” she mumbled, voice slurred. “Just… just sleepy…”
The others followed in silence as he carried her up to the beach house. Once inside, Maerya cleared the way, ushering everyone out of the downstairs bathroom while Katsuki set Rosie gently on the closed toilet lid, holding her upright.
Her eyes fluttered, unfocused.
“Rosie.” He crouched in front of her, carefully brushing the hair away from her face. “What happened to you?”
She blinked slowly, her face pink and dazed. “I was… followin’ a ghost girl.”
Katsuki stilled. “A what ?”
“She was so mad…” Rosie’s head lolled to the side. “Said I took something that wasn’t mine. Said she had to take it back. She… she cut me.” She giggled softly, like it was a dream. “Then I heard talking dogs. Real ones. They told me to be careful… and then there were mermaids. Singing ones. Pretty.”
Katsuki closed his eyes and let out a long, quiet breath through his nose. “Yeah. Okay. You’re not giving me anything useful right now.”
She giggled again, eyes glassy. “You look so serious, Katsuki…”
“You look like shit,” he muttered, but his voice was gentler than his words.
He worked quickly, peeling off her vomit-stained top, trying not to focus on her soft skin or the way she leaned so trustingly into him. She was too far gone to feel embarrassed, humming something tuneless under her breath as he tossed the soiled clothes aside and wiped down her skin with a warm wet towel from the sink.
He tugged off his own hoodie and carefully pulled it over her, the sleeves swallowing her hands, the hem nearly down to her thighs. She made a pleased sound as she hugged herself, pressing her face to the collar of the fabric.
“Mmm… smells like you…”
He felt heat crawl up his neck but said nothing, kneeling to wipe her legs gently with a towel.
Then her fingers reached out, brushing the edge of his collarbone before fluttering down to where ink stained his skin. “What’s that?”
He froze.
Her gaze had landed on the tattoo, visible, something he’d spent months hiding—especially from her. A single delicate, shaded rose with her initial in the center and a butterfly, the same one that she had on her lower hip. The namesake that haunted him. That owned him.
“This?” he asked gruffly, tugging his hoodie back into place like a shield. “Just a dumb tattoo, got it drunk, doesn’t mean anything.”
“It’s pretty…” she murmured. “Looks like me…”
His hands stilled.
“…Just close your eyes, Rosie,” he said softly. “Ambulance will be here soon.”
But her eyes stayed open, bleary and blinking, “I don’t wanna sleep.”
“You can’t sleep, not yet. Talk to me,” he coaxed. “C’mon, keep your eyes on me.”
She did, swaying gently where she sat, her small frame wrapped in his hoodie, her face flushed and unfocused but calm now—at least calmer than before. He held her hands, thumbs brushing circles over her knuckles, watching the clock tick by.
And when the sirens finally sounded in the distance, echoing faintly through the ocean breeze, Katsuki lowered his head against hers and whispered: “I got you. I’ve always got you.”
The front door of the beach house creaked open slowly, the faint scent of salt air and sand lingering on the night breeze as Katsuki carefully stepped inside. The dim lights from the living room cast soft shadows across the wooden floor. Maerya was right beside him, her arm looped gently under Rosie’s as they helped her in.
Wrapped in Katsuki’s oversized black hoodie and a pair of borrowed shorts, Rosie looked more like a ghost than a girl—pale, slow-moving, her eyes heavy with exhaustion and confusion. Her legs trembled slightly with every step, her bare feet dragging a little, as if the weight of the night still clung to her skin.
“It’s 2AM,” Maerya muttered under her breath as they gently guided Rosie inside, “and somehow this house is still wide awake.”
True to her words, the living room was glowing with life. Denki, Shinso, and Kirishima were spread across the floor and couch in a chaotic war of video games—controllers clacking, trash talk spilling between half-lidded grins. On the other side of the room, Mina, Uraraka, Jirou, and Kanako were in matching pajama sets, wine glasses in hand, giggling over something that had just been said.
The moment the front door clicked shut, all heads turned.
The noise stopped. Laughter faded. Denki paused the game mid-match. Conversations halted. The group blinked, processing the sight of Rosie tucked into Katsuki’s side like a fragile puzzle piece—wrapped in his hoodie, her face pale and pinched, her presence a reminder of what had just happened.
“Don’t even think about crowding her,” Katsuki snapped, voice sharp, protective. His arm slid more firmly around Rosie’s waist as he led her inside. “Give her space. She doesn’t need all of you hovering right now.”
No one argued.
The girls on the couch exchanged a look and gently scooted aside, making room as Maerya slowly helped Rosie sit. The couch cushions sighed under her weight, and she leaned into them gratefully with a quiet exhale.
Rosie blinked slowly, as if waking from a half-dream. Her lips parted but no words came. Just tired eyes scanning faces she knew, faces she couldn’t quite read. Her stomach gave a small rumble.
“I’ll make you something to eat,” Katsuki muttered, already pulling away toward the kitchen. “Just sit still, yeah? You haven’t had anything real in your system all night.”
“You don’t have to—” she started softly.
He gave her a side glance. “I want to.”
She fell quiet.
Maerya settled beside her, draping a blanket over Rosie’s lap and whispering something gentle into her ear. Rosie leaned her head onto Maerya’s shoulder, her body too heavy to hold upright anymore. Her fingers were trembling slightly in her lap, knees drawn close to her chest as the warmth of the room slowly started to sink in.
Thump thump thump thump—
A streak of white fluff came bolting down the stairs.
“Maya!” Rosie gasped hoarsely as the little pup launched herself into her lap, paws scrambling for a hold as she yipped and whined excitedly.
“Maya—hey—gentle!” Maerya cautioned.
But the pup was already curling into Rosie’s lap, licking her face and snuggling into the hoodie as if she could sense something was wrong, as if she knew Rosie needed her more than anything else in that moment.
Rosie cradled her tightly, pressing her face into Maya’s fur, eyes glistening. “I missed you…”
Everyone stayed quiet now, watching the fragile moment unfold.
Katsuki returned a few minutes later with a plate—toast with honey, a small bowl of rice, and a mug of warm tea. His gaze found Rosie curled on the couch with Maya, still pale but finally warm, finally safe. He didn’t say anything as he placed the plate down gently on the coffee table in front of her.
But Rosie looked up at him, her voice soft and small: “Thank you.”
He met her eyes. “Always.”
Rosie sat curled on the couch, Maya tucked against her side, her hands trembling slightly as she picked up a piece of toast. The warmth of the bread and honey contrasted the icy knot still curled in her stomach, but she forced herself to eat anyway, nibbling in slow, thoughtful bites.
The others watched her quietly at first—respectfully—but as the silence stretched and the warmth of concern buzzed louder than any words, the questions began to trickle in.
“Rosie,” Uraraka said softly, leaning forward a little. “Are you… okay?”
Rosie swallowed her bite, glancing down into her lap where Maya had buried her nose. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t know.”
“Do you remember anything?” Kirishima asked gently from the floor, sitting cross-legged, his game controller forgotten in his lap.
Rosie shook her head slowly. “No. Not really.”
Denki frowned. “Do you know what you were drugged with?”
She didn’t answer right away. Her eyes flicked to Katsuki, who had returned to standing behind the couch, arms crossed, a scowl set deep in his face, but his eyes soft. Her gaze moved to Maerya, who was still seated beside her like a shield, one hand gently stroking Maya’s ears.
Maerya answered for her, voice quiet but firm. “They gave her something synthetic. The hospital said it was a type of dissociative—similar to a tranquilizer mixed with a hallucinogen.”
Rosie flinched a little and scratched at her forearm where the large cut had been. Her healing quirk had taken care of most of it, but the skin still tingled—ghost pain. “It’s fine,” she murmured. “It’s over.”
“But—” Mina started, concern lacing her voice.
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” Rosie cut in softly but firmly. Her eyes were tired, watery, but resolute. She forced a faint smile and looked around at her friends, all of whom had gathered quietly nearby. “I just want to enjoy the rest of the weekend… watch you guys play video games or whatever.”
“But Rosie—” Jirou tried again.
“No more questions,” Katsuki snapped from behind the couch, his voice gravel and steel. “She said drop it.”
That silenced everyone for good.
Rosie gave him a small grateful glance, then picked up the small bowl of rice and took another bite. Her fingers trembled less now. Warmth was slowly beginning to bleed back into her limbs. She leaned against the couch cushion, Maya curled on her lap, the sound of the controller clicking back on and the video game music resuming gently in the background.
Maerya tugged the blanket up higher over Rosie’s legs and gave her a small nudge on the shoulder. “You’re okay now.”
Rosie nodded, her eyes on the screen even if she wasn’t really watching. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I’m okay.”
The early morning sun cast a soft golden glow over the quiet beach house. Everyone else was still fast asleep, the aftermath of the chaotic night weighing heavily in the still air. The only sounds came from the distant ocean waves and the gentle whir of the ceiling fan overhead.
Rosie stirred, her body stiff from sleeping in the tight tangle on the couch. Maerya was curled at her side, one protective arm draped over her waist, while Katsuki sat slouched at the other end of the couch, one hand still loosely holding Rosie’s ankle like even in sleep he needed to know she was there.
She blinked slowly, her heart aching.
Guilt gnawed at her. Shame curled in her chest.
Carefully, she slid out from beneath Maerya’s arm and pulled her leg gently from Katsuki’s grasp, doing her best not to wake either of them. She stood barefoot on the cool wood floor and tiptoed through the living room to the back patio, slowly opening the sliding glass door to step out into the quiet morning.
The ocean breeze kissed her skin, lifting her hair gently as she stepped onto the deck. The beach glistened in the distance, waves glittering under the rising sun. Rosie sat on the edge of one of the lounge chairs, hugging her knees to her chest.
She sniffled once, then again, and before she could stop it, the tears came—slow, aching tears.
He was right. Everything Katsuki had said, every harsh truth, every warning… she’d brushed it all aside. And for what? To prove something? To try and feel normal?
She wiped her cheeks, but the tears wouldn’t stop. “I really am stupid,” she whispered to herself. “So, so stupid…”
The sound of the sliding glass door opening made her jump slightly. She turned her head just as Katsuki stepped out, his hair still messy from sleep, wearing just a black T-shirt and a pair of gray sweats. His feet were bare, and his face was unreadable. “You okay?” he asked quietly, his voice still hoarse from sleep.
Rosie quickly turned away, wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “Y-Yeah. Just needed air.”
He didn’t believe her. He never did when she lied. Katsuki walked over without another word and sat down beside her on the lounger. His warmth was instant, grounding.
Rosie opened her mouth, but her voice cracked. “I’m sorry…”
Katsuki’s brows furrowed. “What the hell for?”
Her breath hitched, and then the dam broke. “Because you were right,” she choked out. “I am naive. I should’ve listened to you. I never should’ve wandered off alone. I’m… I’m stupid. I always think the best of people even when I shouldn’t. I thought—I thought I could handle it, that I could just… live normally. And now look at me.” She looked down at her arms. “I’m a mess.”
He said nothing at first, just silently watched her, and when she started shaking, when the tears came harder and the shame poured out like poison, Katsuki moved. He reached over, yanking her out of her chair and pulled her into his lap and flushed against his chest, wrapping his arms around her tightly.
“Don’t you ever call yourself stupid,” he murmured, his voice low and fierce as he tucked her into him, pressing his chin against the top of her head. “Don’t you ever do that again.”
“But it’s true,” she sobbed, clutching the fabric of his T-shirt, her voice muffled. “People are cruel , Katsuki. And I—I walked right into it. Like I always do. Like I always will . Because I’m too—too—”
“Too good, ” he cut her off gently but firmly. “You see the world the way no one else does. With this… impossible kind of hope and faith that things can still be good. That people are good. That’s not naïve, Rosie. It’s rare and it’s beautiful. ”
She shook her head against his chest, more tears soaking into the cotton. “It gets me hurt.”
“I know,” he whispered, stroking her hair, his fingers gentle. “And that’s why I’ll protect you.”
Her breath hitched.
“I’ll protect you from whoever tries to hurt you. You don’t have to change for this world,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head. “Not when I’m in it with you.”
Her arms tightened around him.
“I mean it,” he whispered again. “Don’t stop being soft. Don’t stop being kind. Just let me protect you please.”
Rosie nodded slowly, the tears still falling but her sobs quieting. His steady heartbeat, his warmth, his strength… it was enough to calm the storm inside her. They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in the soft quiet of morning, the ocean in the distance, and the sun slowly rising on a new day.
The smell of fresh coffee, toasted bagels, and scrambled eggs filled the air as the warm morning sun stretched across the back patio. The long outdoor table was packed with plates of breakfast food—croissants, fruit, breakfast burritos, pancakes—and surrounded by the sleepy, pajama-clad crew in varying degrees of alertness.
Kirishima had his hair tied back and was enthusiastically buttering a stack of pancakes while talking animatedly to Kaminari, who was mid-rant about how no one had let him win a single round of the video game last night.
“Maybe if you didn’t try to sabotage all of us with banana peels,” Jirou teased, sipping her coffee.
“I thought it was a good strategy,” he grumbled.
Mina leaned back in her chair, sunglasses perched on her head and an oversized hoodie swallowing her. “Okay, okay, focus. What’s the plan for our last full day in paradise?”
“Surfing,” Kirishima said without hesitation.
“More shopping,” Uraraka chimed in, grinning.
“I’m not moving,” Shinso muttered, still half-asleep with a croissant in hand.
“I vote for beach nap time,” Tsui said.
They all laughed and nodded in agreement, everyone throwing out different ideas—some wanted to rent bikes, others talked about going to grab smoothies or souvenirs before the trip home.
Rosie took a bite of her berry-topped waffle, the sweetness still strange after everything, but comforting in its normalcy. She looked out at the shimmering ocean, just visible from the patio, and smiled softly.
“I want to go to the beach,” she said, her voice quiet but firm.
Maerya looked up immediately, her brow knitting. “Then I’ll go with you—”
Rosie gently shook her head, her smile still there. “Katsuki already offered to go with me,” she said, her fingers reaching down to scratch Maya’s ears where the she lay curled under the table. “I was thinking of taking Maya too. She’s been good and she loves the water.”
Across the table, Katsuki didn’t say anything—he just looked at her, a quiet understanding passing between them. He gave a small nod, lips twitching with the barest hint of a smile.
“Oh?” Maerya arched a brow, glancing between the two of them before smirking into her juice. “Well… sounds like you’re in good hands.”
Mina leaned over to bump Rosie’s shoulder. “I better get a picture of you and Maya in the waves.”
“You will,” Rosie promised.
The breeze was soft and salty, weaving through Rosie’s hair as she knelt in the warm sand, her knees tucked beneath her and her hands expertly patting down the sides of a slowly forming sandcastle. Maya barked happily in the background, kicking up sand in her wake as she chased a flock of seagulls down the shoreline. Her white fur glinted in the sun, tail wagging furiously as her paws slapped the wet shore.
Rosie, dressed in a red bikini and her new heart-shaped red sunglasses, hummed softly under her breath as she focused on her little project. Her skin was dusted in sand, and there were already three half-formed turrets lining the growing castle’s base.
“You really gonna spend your last day building a damn sandcastle?” Katsuki’s familiar gruff voice broke through the rhythm of her humming.
She looked up at him through her glasses and smiled, wide and bright like summer itself. “Yes,” she replied, without shame or hesitation. “It’s peaceful. Therapeutic. Don’t knock the castle until you try it.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes, though he was already crouching beside her, elbow brushing hers as he eyed her lopsided tower. “This thing’s gonna collapse the second the tide hits it.”
“That’s why I’m building it up here, smartass,” she giggled. “Now help me make it beautiful.”
With a low grunt of defeat, he reached for a small plastic mold she had stolen from a kid’s section in the store, filling it with sand and patting it down with ridiculous precision.
“Don’t look so grumpy,” she said teasingly. “You’re having fun.”
“I’m not.” He was. Obviously. His scowl was weaker today, more performative than anything.
Rosie beamed and flicked a pinch of sand at his leg. “You totally are.”
“I swear to god, if you throw another grain at me, I’m burying you in the damn moat.”
“Oh, threats now? Is that how you flirt?”
He paused—just long enough to make her giggle—and then muttered under his breath, “You’re lucky I like you.”
“I knew you liked me.”
“Shut up.”
She giggled again and leaned closer to her sand tower, smoothing the top with a proud grin. “Alright, I need more water. The moat demands it.”
“Demanded by royalty, huh?” he said with a mock sigh, rising to his feet and grabbing the little red bucket beside her. “What kind of soldier am I, fetching water for a princess?”
“The loyal kind,” she said sweetly. “And strong, rugged and dashingly handsome in board shorts.”
He shot her a sideways glance as he walked toward the water. “If I come back and find my castle destroyed, I’m turning yours into a pile of rubble.”
“I’d expect nothing less from my grumpy knight.”
He grunted again—though she swore she caught the barest twitch of a smile before he turned away—and made his way down the beach, bucket swinging at his side. She watched him go, her heart warm and light as the waves crashed behind him.
Maya barked once more, circling back to her and plopping down in the sand beside her sunhat. Rosie scratched behind her ears with one hand and kept building with the other, glancing toward the water every few seconds as her self-appointed protector filled a plastic bucket just to make her silly little castle perfect.
Katsuki returned with the bucket of seawater, his bare feet kicking up sand as he trudged back up the beach to where Rosie sat beside their sandcastle empire. She clapped for him dramatically when he arrived.
“Behold,” she said in a grand, theatrical voice, “the noble bucket-bearer returns from his perilous quest!”
He squinted at her. “I had to dodge two kids, a crab, and a guy aggressively doing yoga. That was perilous.”
She cackled and reached for the bucket. “Your sacrifice will be remembered in legend.”
“I should’ve let the crab get you.”
“Oh please, you’d never let it come near me.”
He grunted and dropped down beside her again, watching as she carefully poured water into the little moat they’d dug around their castles. As they worked, she nudged him with her elbow, eyes glittering behind her heart-shaped sunglasses.
“Wanna hear a beach joke?”
“No.”
“Too bad!” She grinned. “Why don’t oysters donate to charity?”
He gave her a deadpan look. “God, why?”
“Because they’re shellfish .” She let out a snort and smacked her knee, pleased with herself.
Katsuki exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. “You should be banned from speaking.”
“Rude. Okay, okay, how about this—what does a mermaid use to wash her tail?”
“Rosie—”
“A tide pod.”
His lip twitched. Just barely.
“I saw that,” she pointed at him with mock accusation. “That was almost a smile.”
“I sneezed.”
“You did not . You’re laughing on the inside.”
“I don’t laugh.”
“You just did,” she sing-songed, elbowing him again.
Katsuki grumbled under his breath, reaching for another sand mold. “You’re lucky I like you.”
“You hate everyone but me.”
“Don’t test that,” he warned, but there was a hint of warmth in his voice now, not quite laughter, but something close.
Rosie turned toward him, shifting her legs to face him more fully. “I like when you laugh.”
“I don’t laugh,” he repeated, avoiding her gaze by focusing hard on smoothing out a tower wall.
“You just did,” she murmured again, a little softer this time, as if it was a secret only she was allowed to notice. “Not a big one. But still a laugh.”
He sighed and leaned back on his hands, looking at her finally. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“Too late,” she grinned. “I’m gonna frame this moment in a snow globe and shake it every time you annoy me.”
Katsuki snorted, actually snorted, and reached for the sand she’d just patted down to flick some of it at her thigh.
“Hey!” she squealed, slapping at her leg.
“That’s for the mermaid joke.”
“You loved the mermaid joke.”
“I tolerated the mermaid joke.”
They kept working in companionable silence, the tide inching closer as the sun rose higher. Maya was passed out in the shade nearby, tongue hanging out, tail twitching in dreams. Rosie paused after finishing the last turret and glanced at Katsuki as he carved a tiny pathway in the sand with the edge of his hand. “Katsuki?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for coming out here with me.”
He didn’t answer right away, but then he leaned his shoulder into hers, gentle and quiet.
Notes:
I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!
Happy birthday to Mari_does_fanfic!🥳🎉 it was her birthday yesterday! I hope it was lovely💖
Lemme know your thoughts and I’ll see you in the next one!
Chapter 134: My socks were never recovered. It was a crime against fashion.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Are you sure about this?” Rosie whispered, crouched low behind the patio railing, staring down at the bucket of water balloons—each one filled with brightly colored paint.
Mina, in her typical chaos-loving glory, gave a wicked grin. “ Obviously. They thought they won the prank war? Hell. No. This is the finale.”
Uraraka nodded sagely, her face serious despite the glitter stuck in her hair from their last prank attempt. “She’s right. We let them think they won—lull them into a false sense of victory. Meanwhile, we’ve been planning this masterpiece for days.”
Rosie’s lips twitched with hesitant amusement as she looked around at the battlefield they were preparing. On the balcony table sat a whole arsenal: water balloons filled with paint, water guns loaded with watered-down syrup, and several large ziplock bags filled with feathers, already strategically taped under the edge of the rooftop railing.
“You’re all kind of terrifying when you’re like this,” Rosie murmured, lifting one of the squishy balloons carefully.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Maerya said as she walked by, already wearing her black face paint like war paint under her eyes, “we’ve barely gotten started.”
Kanako cackled softly as she double-checked the water guns. “The key is precision. We want maximum chaos with minimal clean-up for ourselves.”
Tsui calmly sorted through the balloons by color. “Green for Izuku and purple for Shinso. Yellow for Denki. Red for Katsuk and Kirishima. White for Shoto and black for Tokoyami and Shoji. Trust me—it’ll stain their egos.”
Even Momo, who usually stayed far away from their more chaotic antics, was standing nearby with her arms crossed and a sly smirk on her face. “This is nothing compared to what they did to us last time. Glitter bombs in our shampoo? They deserve this.”
Rosie blinked. “Oh… right. That’s why my hair sparkled in the sun for two days…”
“Exactly!” Jirou chimed in, adjusting the Bluetooth speaker she was syncing to her phone. “I even made a dramatic soundtrack for when we launch the balloons. It’ll be like a cinematic trailer for their doom.”
They moved like a well-oiled machine. Rosie helped fill and load the remaining paint balloons while the others rigged the balcony with a thin string set to pull all the feathers down the moment the guys walked onto the patio. Momo handled the mechanism, showing an alarming level of engineering skill for something as ridiculous as a prank.
Down below, the patio was empty and serene—just a few towels and flip-flops lying around, some empty glasses from lunch. The perfect illusion of peace.
They had maybe ten or fifteen minutes tops before the guys returned from their grocery run to prepare dinner for later that night. Enough time to finalize everything.
“Water guns in place?” Maerya asked, her voice crisp and commanding.
“Locked and loaded,” Tsui responded, giving her a thumbs-up.
“Feather bombs rigged?” Momo confirmed.
“Ready to rain down vengeance,” Kanako said with glee, holding up the string like it was the rope to a guillotine.
Rosie looked around at them all—her friends. Girls she was still remembering, still reconnecting with. But in this moment, it didn’t matter what she couldn’t remember. She felt it. That fierce, giddy energy of being part of something chaotic and hilarious. She smiled, brighter than the sun, and picked up her weapon of choice—a water gun labeled Katsuki’s Doom in silver glitter letters.
“Let’s do this,” she whispered.
“Oh, it’s on,” Mina said. “The boys won the battle… but we’re about to win the war.”
And as they all crouched down in hiding, giggling like schoolgirls, their weapons ready and their plan in motion—Rosie couldn’t help but feel just the tiniest bit sorry for the poor, unsuspecting men who were about to walk onto the patio.
Almost.
The sound of the back door sliding open echoed across the patio like the chime of a starting bell.
Rosie crouched lower behind the balcony railing, heart pounding with excitement and poorly contained laughter. Through the wooden slats, she could see them—Katsuki, Kirishima, Denki, Shoto, Shinso, and Izuku—walking out onto the patio, all carrying brown paper grocery bags filled with snacks, vegetables, meat, and drinks for the evening. Shoji and Tokoyami following behind carrying boxes of beer and bags of wine.
Katsuki was already barking orders. “Someone get the grill started, I’m not cookin’ over half-burned coals again like last time.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Denki huffed, trying to juggle a watermelon in one hand and a six-pack in the other. “Maybe if you didn’t throw the last grill lid into the dunes—”
He didn’t get to finish the sentence.
“Now!” Mina screamed with pure glee, and the girls popped up from behind the balcony railing like caffeinated goblins, aiming their pastel-colored water guns at the guys and letting loose a syrupy barrage of sticky, watered-down sugar water.
“REVENGE!” Kanako howled, pumping her water gun like a machine gun.
Rosie couldn’t stop laughing. She held her phone up with one hand, filming as she sprayed her gun with the other, aiming straight for Katsuki’s broad back.
He turned just in time to get hit directly in the chest by a blast of syrup and a water balloon filled with bright red paint that exploded in a perfect splat .
“What the HELL?!” Katsuki roared, arms lifting like a drenched bear as yellow feathers clung to him like fur. “What the actual—who threw the red one?!”
“Compliments of Tsui!” Tsui called with the calm of a war general.
With a loud pop and flutter , Maerya yanked the feather bomb string, and two enormous bags burst open from the eaves of the roof. A storm of feathers rained down like a blizzard onto the stunned guys below.
“What the—?!” Kirishima blinked, feathers sticking in his hair, on his tank top, and across his bright red eyebrows.
The chaos didn’t stop there.
Shoto blinked up at them, deadpan, his white-and-red hair now speckled in blue syrup and feathers like he’d been attacked by a coloring book. “I am once again being targeted for no apparent reason.”
“You knew the risks when you glitter bombed the shampoo!” Momo fired back, aiming a green shot at his legs.
Denki, meanwhile, was shrieking and dancing in place as Kirishima burst out laughing beside him. “MY SOCKS—MY FAVORITE SOCKS—” Denki wailed, arms flailing like a soaked chicken. “Jirou, how could you betray me like this?!”
Jirou, standing tall with her phone recording and a water gun in hand, only grinned. “Payback’s a bitch, sweetie.”
Rosie nearly dropped her phone from laughing so hard. She caught a glimpse of Maya tearing across the yard below, her tiny body streaked in pink paint and tufts of feathers stuck to her fur. She was gleefully zooming around in circles, yipping with joy as she tried to chase Denki’s feet.
“She’s part of the prank too?!” Izuku gasped, kneeling to catch Maya only to get a sticky paw to the chest.
“She’s the chaos gremlin’s chaos gremlin,” Maerya said proudly, giving Maya an air-five from the balcony.
Katsuki stood frozen in the middle of the carnage, red paint dripping down his chest, feathers stuck to his arms, syrup sliding down his temple. He locked eyes with Rosie—who immediately ducked out of view with a squeal, still filming on her phone.
“YOU’RE DEAD, ROSIE!” he bellowed, voice filled with fury and—somewhere beneath it—amused disbelief.
“She filmed the whole thing!” Mina cackled, high-fiving Rosie.
As the girls howled with laughter, Maya let out a triumphant bark, launching herself into Katsuki’s legs before racing away again like a pink-feathered blur.
“I hope you all know,” Shinso muttered as he tried to shake feathers from his hair, “this means war.”
“Oh, please ,” Kanako said smugly. “That was war.”
“And we just won,” Maerya declared, raising her water gun like a flag of victory.
The girls all erupted in cheers, and the boys—sticky, confused, and covered in feathers—could do nothing but blink up at them from the syrup-soaked battlefield.
Feathers still drifting in the wind, paint still dripping, and Maya still zooming. It was beautiful, glorious even, but it was far from over.
The air in the beach house was still thick with the lingering scent of syrup and the faint tang of paint, but the girls were radiant with laughter, draped across couches and beanbags in oversized hoodies and beachy pajamas. They sipped wine and bright pink margaritas, cheeks flushed with victory and alcohol, still glowing from the thrill of the prank war.
Mina had her legs tucked under her as she leaned against the armrest, giggling into her drink. “Did you see Denki’s face when the feathers hit him? I’ve never seen a man panic like that—he looked like a startled chicken.”
“Shoji just froze like he was questioning his entire existence,” Kanako said, snorting as she took another sip of wine.
Maerya tilted her head back against the couch cushion with a dreamy sigh. “And Katsuki… I’ve never seen him look so offended and sticky.”
Rosie was curled beside Mina on the sectional, cheeks still warm from laughing so hard earlier. Even after the drama of the last few days, the prank had brought a rare moment of lightness. For the first time in a while, they were all just laughing again—no tension, no heartbreak, no pain. Just syrup, feathers, and petty vengeance.
But that lightness vanished the second the hallway door creaked open. The guys stomped out from the hall one by one—freshly showered, still damp from the hot water, all in dry clothes and all looking utterly betrayed. Their hair was damp, their expressions thunderous, and their collective mood? War.
Katsuki stood at the front of the pack, arms crossed over his chest, wearing black sweats and a scowl that could level cities. “This isn’t over.”
Kirishima cracked his knuckles, grinning in a way that was not friendly. “Oh yeah. You guys wanted a war? You’ve got one.”
“You went too far,” Denki added dramatically, throwing himself into an armchair with exaggerated woe. “My socks were never recovered. It was a crime against fashion.”
Rosie tried not to laugh into her margarita glass as Mina just smirked. “We won fair and square.”
“That wasn’t winning,” Izuku chimed in, towel still around his shoulders, “that was ambushing.”
Kanako lifted her drink lazily, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? You want to settle this now ?”
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “Damn right we do.”
“Fine,” Kanako said with a wicked little grin. “Let’s make this official. ”
Everyone turned toward her.
“How about a game of UNO?” she proposed, setting down her glass with a flourish. “Three girls, three guys. Winner takes all. And I mean all. Losers have to concede the prank war and cook dinner for everyone tonight. No complaints. No rematches.”
Kirishima crossed his arms. “UNO? Really?”
“Are you scared?” Maerya goaded sweetly.
“No,” he said instantly. “I just want it on record that when we crush you, it’ll be over cards. ”
Shinso groaned from the back of the room. “I already know someone’s going to flip the table.”
“Probably Katsuki,” Mina said under her breath, smirking.
“ What was that? ” Katsuki barked.
“Nothing,” she sang.
Kanako leaned forward, dealing out a brand-new deck she had grabbed from the kitchen drawer like she'd been waiting for this moment her whole life. “Let the games begin.”
The teams had assembled with fire in their eyes and vengeance in their blood—Jirou, Mina, and Maerya for Team Girls; Katsuki, Kirishima, and Shoto for Team Guys. The coffee table had been cleared with dramatic flair, a fresh UNO deck shuffled with the precision of a seasoned card shark (Mina), and snacks and drinks had been passed around as if they were preparing for a final battle.
Rosie tucked herself deeper into the couch cushions, legs pulled up under her, hugging a throw pillow to her chest. The guys sat cross-legged on one side of the table while the girls claimed the other, everyone already trash-talking before the first card had even been dealt.
“This is where you lose your last shred of dignity, Bakugou,” Maerya smirked as she dramatically threw down the first card.
“Keep talking,” Katsuki growled, cracking his knuckles.
The room was charged—half chaotic, half competitive. Even those who weren’t playing gathered around, munching on popcorn, sipping from wine glasses or soda cans, commentary flying like a live-streamed event. Denki had become the unofficial sportscaster, narrating each move in a serious tone like it was a national championship.
Half an hour in, and no team had won. The pile was thick, the tension thicker. Katsuki had been sitting with a +4 in hand for the last six turns, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Maerya had skipped him twice in a row just to tick him off. Shoto had become the silent executioner, casually stacking wild cards like he didn’t care, even though his eyes screamed “I care so much .”
Then it happened.
Jirou winced as she reached forward to slap a card down, clutching her wrist with a hiss. “Ah—shit.”
“You good?” Mina asked, leaning over.
“I think I tweaked my wrist earlier during the feather dump,” Jirou muttered. “I knew I landed weird, and it’s catching up to me now.”
“Want me to take over?” Rosie offered gently.
“No, no,” Jirou smirked as she held up her injured hand, “this is a tactical substitution. ” She winked and practically shoved her cards into Rosie’s hands. “You’re up.”
Rosie blinked, then slowly rose and took Jirou’s place, settling cross-legged on the floor across from Katsuki.
Shoto’s brows furrowed slightly.
Katsuki glared, “seriously?” he grunted.
“It’s well within the rules,” Maerya sing-songed. “And we all agreed on substitutions earlier.”
“Yeah,” Mina added with a devilish grin. “You boys exploited it when Denki swapped in for Izuku in Mario Kart.”
Rosie looked between them all, completely oblivious and innocent in the girl’s plans. “I’m just here to play UNO…”
She gathered Jirou’s cards and glanced down at the deck in her hand. It wasn’t great. A few color changes, two reverse cards, and no skips. She was in for a world of pain—especially since she was now square in Katsuki’s warpath.
He narrowed his eyes at her, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he finally pulled out his long-held card of doom. “Draw eight.”
Gasps erupted around the table like someone had just announced a betrayal in a soap opera.
Rosie’s lip quivered slightly as she stared at the cards in his hand, her eyes round and glossy. Her bottom lip jutted out in the softest pout imaginable. She blinked at him once, then twice, lashes fluttering.
Katsuki froze, like a switch had been flipped, his entire posture changed. His hand didn’t move, his jaw clenched.
“Oh no,” Kirishima muttered under his breath. “He’s cracking.”
Rosie tilted her head, voice sweet and tight. “Eight cards?”
Katsuki swore softly under his breath, teeth grinding, then—with a visible scowl—he tossed the +4 card back into his hand and reached for the deck.
He drew.
One card.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Everyone stared in silent shock.
Finally, he drew a blue card and slapped it down like it had personally insulted him. “Blue. Your turn.”
“ You folded ?” Kirishima whispered. “Bro, she didn’t even shed a single tear.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Katsuki snapped.
Across the table, Rosie smiled sweetly, eyes twinkling behind her red sunglasses still perched on her head like a crown. “Thanks, Katsuki.”
He grunted and looked away, refusing to meet her eyes.
Maerya sipped her wine, smirking behind the glass. “This is better than anything I’ve seen on TV.”
The game raged on, but the tides had shifted, all because Rosie hadn’t just joined the girls’ team, she had been their secret weapon to use against Katsuki and Shoto.
As the game dragged on, the energy in the room had only grown more electric. Everyone else had gradually abandoned their lounge chairs and drinks to crowd around the table, drawn in by the growing absurdity of what was clearly not just a card game anymore—but psychological warfare.
And somewhere in the middle of it, Katsuki Bakugou had gone rogue. Every time he had a chance to unleash chaos on Rosie—he didn't. A perfectly timed +2 landed on Shoto instead. A skip meant for her? Redirected at Kirishima. When a reverse card came down, cycling the flow of the game, Katsuki adjusted his strategy with frightening subtlety.
“He’s throwing the game,” Maerya whispered from the sidelines with a hand over her wine glass.
“No way,” Mina snorted.
But they all saw it.
And now it was down to the two of them. Everyone else had been taken out or sabotaged by their own teammates. Jirou was back in her spot, elbow on her knee, watching closely with a proud grin as Rosie and Katsuki stared each other down across the pile.
“Uno,” Rosie chirped with a soft smile, holding up her last card delicately.
Katsuki had two left.
He glanced down at his hand. His next move would win him the game—he could see it, clean and easy. One reverse. One yellow number card.
It would be over in seconds. But instead of playing it, he held it there and then, slowly, infuriatingly, he picked up a random card from the draw pile.
Gasps.
And then she played her last card.
The living room exploded into noise.
“YES!” Mina screamed, leaping to her feet and fist-pumping the air.
Maerya and Kanako cheered with matching grins, and even Momo cracked a relieved smile.
Jirou grabbed Rosie in a side hug. “Victory tastes so sweet when it's wrapped in a little sabotage.”
The guys? Groaning loudly.
“What the hell, man?!” Kirishima laughed, reaching over to smack Katsuki’s shoulder.
Shinso narrowed his eyes, ever the detective. “Wait a second... what card did you have?”
“Mind your business,” Katsuki grunted, standing up from the floor.
“No, no, no,” Shinso stared. “We demand to see the card for integrity.”
“I don’t give a shit about integrity,” Katsuki muttered, holding the card between two fingers and lifting it just enough—and then promptly shoved it into his mouth and bit down .
The room screeched .
“You did not just eat the damn UNO card,” Kaminari wheezed, practically doubled over in laughter.
“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” Shinso shouted, lunging, trying to snatch it mid-chomp.
Muffled chewing, “Fuck off.”
Rosie was smiling , hiding her face in her hands as she tried to breathe through her laughter. Katsuki swallowed, grimacing, then dropped back into his seat and grabbed his drink like nothing had happened.
“I hate you,” Kirishima said affectionately.
“I know,” Katsuki muttered, eyes flicking toward Rosie just long enough to see her still smiling at him, her cheeks flushed with laughter and victory.
The girls broke into another cheer, declaring themselves the undisputed prank war champions.
“Chop chop boys, you have dinner to make later.” Jirou smirked as she clapped her hands together.
Denki gasped, “you didn’t hurt your wrist!”
“Are you sure about that?” She grinned before turning and leaving to joint he girls who were moving outside
“Asshole,” Shinso shot the finger to Katsuki who bared his sharp teeth at him.
Notes:
I love this chapter, not sure why, but I just do. Anyway, I hope you guys have a lovely day, as usual lemme know your thoughts and have a great day!💖
Chapter 135: It's Hiroshi.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“I’m jealous,” Akira pouted dramatically, stirring her tea with a lazy swirl of her spoon. “I wish I could’ve gone.”
Rosie snorted mid-sip of her coffee, nearly spilling it down her front. “Did you forget the part where I was drugged?”
Akira rolled her eyes and leaned across the table in their little sunlit corner of the Ishlamare café. She flicked Rosie square on the forehead. “No, of course not, dumbass. But you also went on a beach trip with like, half the pro-hero circuit, and you made it back alive. That’s a win.”
Rosie huffed, setting her mug down with a soft clink. “I mean… yeah. But still. I was reckless.”
“You were,” Akira said without missing a beat. “You know better than to go off on your own at a party. Especially letting someone else handle your drink? Rosie.”
Rosie looked down, tracing the rim of her mug. Her throat felt tight again, the way it always did when she thought too long about that day. “I know. I messed up.”
Akira softened, resting her chin in her hand. “Hey. I’m not trying to scold you. Just—concerned. You’re okay now, but that could’ve ended a lot worse. And I know you. You never put your guard down like that.”
Rosie hesitated, heart thudding. She hadn’t told anyone this part yet. Not Katsuki, not Maerya, not even Momo.
“I need to tell you something,” she said quietly.
Akira perked up. “Okay. What’s up?”
Rosie swallowed hard. “It's Hiroshi.”
There was a pause.
“What?”
“He was the one who refilled my cup,” Rosie murmured, eyes dropping to her hands. “I didn’t think anything of it. I was distracted—jealous, just… being dumb. And later, when everything got hazy, I remembered seeing him. Just for a second. But he was there.”
Akira’s expression turned stone cold. She leaned back slowly, blinking. “Hiroshi. The same Hiroshi who smiled his way into your life like a stray cat?”
Rosie nodded once, biting her lip. “Looks like Maerya and Eri were right.”
“God, I hate it when they’re right,” Akira muttered. “Rosie… you have to tell your dad.”
“I don’t have proof.” Rosie sighed. “It’s just a memory. A hazy one at that.”
“Still,” Akira said, sitting up straighter. “He’ll know what to do. He’s not just your dad, he’s a pro. If this guy drugged you, he won’t let him walk around free. You don’t need to have it all figured out—just give him what you remember. Let him connect the dots.”
Rosie nodded slowly, wrapping her hands around her mug again. The warmth didn’t do much for the cold sinking into her chest.
They sat in silence for a beat before Rosie finally asked, “Can I ask you something else?”
“Always.”
Rosie hesitated again, trying to find the right words. “It’s about Momo.”
Akira blinked, surprised. “Oh?”
“I… I don’t know what happened. She’s been so cold since we got back. She won’t even look at me unless she has to.” Rosie looked out the window, her voice small. “I don’t know if I upset her or if she’s mad at me for being stupid or—”
“Rosie,” Akira interrupted, leaning forward, “you didn’t do anything wrong. Momo’s probably just working through her own internal chaos. Give her some space.”
“But—”
“She’s like a little computer that overheated,” Akira smirked. “You don’t try to fix it while it’s smoking. You unplug it and wait. Then maybe it boots back up like normal.”
Rosie gave a faint laugh.
“I know it sucks,” Akira continued. “But not everything is your fault. You’ve had a lot going on. And if she’s your real friend, she’ll work through whatever she’s feeling and come back when she’s ready. Until then? Let her do her thing.”
Rosie nodded, though her heart still ached. “Yeah. Okay.”
“And in the meantime,” Akira added, sipping her tea, “maybe tell your terrifying, overprotective pro-hero dad about the dude who drugged you.”
Rosie rolled her eyes but smiled faintly. “Yeah, yeah. I will.”
“Good. Now drink your coffee before it gets cold. And remind me to never let you go to a party without a chaperone again.”
“Maybe you should be my chaperone next time.”
“Obviously,” Akira said. “I’ll tase anyone who gets within five feet of you.”
Rosie laughed into her cup, grateful—so, so grateful—to have her.
The velvet curtains of Ignis Inferno shimmered faintly in the soft lighting, the stage lights dimmed to a low amber glow. The scent of old perfume and fresh powder clung to the air, mingling with the warm buzz of chatter and laughter from beyond the closed main hall. Music thudded faintly from a speaker, the slow beat of a sultry jazz remix marking time as Rosie adjusted her posture in the mirror-lined rehearsal room.
She arched her back, pointed her toes, and held the feathered fan higher with a flourish—only for Varsas to shake her head, “No, no, angle it like this , like you’re teasing the moon.” She stepped behind her with exaggerated flair, her fingers adjusting her wrist and tilting her chin with the casual elegance of someone who practically breathed stage presence.
Rosie blinked at her reflection, then laughed under her breath. How the hell did I end up working at a burlesque cabaret club?
“Focus, darling,” Yun drawled from the corner, lounging on the chaise as she reapplied her lipstick with effortless grace. “You’re getting better, but your hesitation shows in your hips.”
“I’m trying,” Rosie puffed, stumbling a bit on the pivot.
“You’re thinking too much,” Haruhi added gently from behind the piano, tapping out the rhythm with her painted nails. “Don’t think. Just feel it.”
Rosie huffed out a breath, spinning once more and letting herself move with the music. The beat pulled her in again, the rhythm catching in her ribs like a second heartbeat. She caught Varsas's eye in the mirror and she gave her a small, approving nod.
Burlesque. Seriously.
Had she really traded her barista job to be a burlesque dancer? She had to have as she now stood here—corset cinched, cheeks flushed, sweating in glitter under the studio lights—learning to become part of it.
“Again from the top!” Varsas called, clapping once. “And this time, Rosie dear, imagine you’re not trying to seduce the audience. You already have. All you’re doing now is letting them thank you for it.”
Rosie laughed, shaking her head, and stepped back into position. Burlesque, she thought again, grinning as the music kicked up once more. Of all things… this might be the most ridiculous detour of my life.
And honestly? She kind of loved it even if she didn’t remember much about how she got into it.
The four of them sat in a cozy booth tucked into the corner of a bustling café just a few blocks down from Ignis Inferno . It was a small place with mismatched chairs and chipped tile floors, but the sandwiches were massive, the coffee was rich, and nobody batted an eye at glitter on the floor or feathers stuck in someone's hair.
Rosie twirled her straw in her lemonade, still flushed from practice, legs sore but spirits high. She was mid-laugh at one of Yun’s ridiculous impressions of their stage manager when Varsas leaned in, long lashes fluttering curiously as she propped her chin in her hand.
“So,” she said slyly, “what’s going on with the grumpy blond one?”
Rosie blinked. “Who?”
Varsas gave her a look . “ Katsuki Bakugou . Tall, scowly, built like a sin. You know—your bodyguard or whatever.”
“He’s not—” Rosie sat up straighter, cheeks coloring. “He’s fine. He’s... fine.”
Haruhi raised a brow over her teacup. “Just fine?”
Rosie hesitated. “What else am I supposed to say?”
“Well, is he seeing anyone?” Varsas asked casually, picking at the corner of her croissant like she wasn’t stirring the pot on purpose. “He’s attractive in that whole I’ll murder someone for you but also probably call you annoying sort of way. Some people are into that.”
“I—” Rosie looked around the table, completely caught off guard. “I’m not sure?”
Haruhi and Yun exchanged glances before both promptly snorted into their drinks.
“What?” Rosie frowned.
“Varsas, come on,” Yun said, flipping her chopsticks through her fingers. “He has a secret girlfriend.”
“Totally,” Haruhi added. “Brooding. Protective. Disappears at night. Acts like he’s got something to lose.”
Rosie furrowed her brow, genuinely confused. “Wait, he does?”
Haruhi tilted her head, looking at her strangely. “Yeah. You didn’t know?”
“No, I—he’s always alone,” Rosie said, her voice quieter now. She thought about their moments together—the quiet walks, the way he hovered near her, the way he looked at her sometimes like she was something delicate he couldn’t stop holding. How he kissed her. He never said anything about a girlfriend.
Varsas raised a thin brow, voice laced with curiosity. “Hopefully they broke up. Gives me a chance to ask for his number.”
Rosie blinked down at her plate. “Maybe…” But something in her chest gave a slow, hollow thud and instead she continued on like nothing happened.
It was late when Rosie finally got home.
The sky outside her apartment was a soft navy blue, stars barely peeking through the city haze. After her shower, she took Maya to the dog park for a good run, made herself a simple dinner—just some pasta with garlic bread—and then finally, finally , settled onto her couch in a pair of oversized pajamas with her hair tied up in a bun and a steaming mug of tea resting on the coffee table beside her.
Her laptop sat open on her lap, the screen bright against the dim lighting of her living room. She had initially planned to finish ordering her textbooks and the last few school supplies she still needed for the fall semester, but her focus kept drifting.
You’re wasting time, she told herself.
But the moment she typed Katsuki Bakugou into the search bar, it didn’t matter.
Hero name: Dynamight.
Hundreds of results instantly popped up. News articles, interviews, battle recaps, fan pages, hero rankings, even gossip blogs that dissected every expression caught on camera.
Rosie stared, overwhelmed for a moment.
Then, slowly, she began to click.
An old headline stood out first: “Middle School Student attacked by a Sludge villain and saved by All Might!”
She read through it—how he and another boy, Izuku Midoriya, were attacked by a sludge villain. How All Might himself had stepped in to save them. How the boy in the article, Katsuki, was described as proud , gifted , and reckless .
She clicked on the next article. “Katsuki Bakugou Admitted to U.A. High with Highest Entrance Exam Score!”
Another: “USJ attacked by League of Villains!”
“U.A. Sports Festival: Katsuki Bakugou Wins First Place, Refuses the Crowd’s Applause and his achievement!”
Rosie sipped her tea, now lukewarm. She read about the I-Island incident, the kidnapping incident during the training camp, the showdown between All Might and All for One, the provisional licensing exam, and the school festival. Then the articles got darker and more raw as it brought up the Liberation Army battle, Hero Work Recommendation project, his work study with Endeavor, Humarise mission with Shoto, Izuku, and Endeavor. Then the Paranormal Liberation War, and then all the battles that Katsuki was involved in during the war. Then how he had died and was saved by Pro Hero Edgeshot and then there were a couple of years of little to nothing about him when it came to the public eye.
However in the last two years, there were more articles popping up—training, his unofficial debut, his training, battles, patrol, and ect.
An entire history spread out before her in digital ink.
She saw pictures of him younger—scowling, always scowling. In his hero uniform, shirtless with gauntlets nearly bigger than his head. Another with his arms crossed as cameras flashed around him. Interviews where his answers were clipped and impatient. Video clips where his explosions were controlled chaos.
This is him, she thought, staring at a still of him helping lift rubble from a collapsed building. This is the man who’s kissed me. The one who wrapped his arms around me when I cried. The one who saved me.
Her eyes lingered on a recent photo from a patrol downtown—he looked tired, dirt and soot smeared across his face, the heavy mask of his hero costume hanging around his neck. His spiky hair was damp with sweat, the edges curled just slightly from the heat of his quirk. And yet… his eyes. They held something different than the fierce glint that made headlines during his time at U.A. There was something softer. Worn, yes—but not jaded. As if there was someone out there who had given him a reason to breathe easier again.
Rosie’s gaze flicked to the next article in the search results.
“The Villainous Hero: Dynamight Returns to Pro Hero Work!”
It was from several months ago.
Villainous Hero? she blinked.
She clicked.
The article opened with a familiar mix of drama and admiration. “Pro Hero Dynamight—once known for his explosive temper and even more explosive combat style—has returned. But there’s a difference this time. Some are calling him the Villainous Hero—not for the way he fights, but for the quiet edge he’s brought back with him. Sharper. Colder. More calculated.”
But then, in the middle of the article, another tone emerged.
“He’s been spotted multiple times smiling while fighting—yes, smiling. Sources claim he’s been texting someone during patrol breaks. Who’s got the hero with a rep for being anti-social suddenly grinning like a teenager in love?”
Rosie felt her heart thump.
She scrolled down.
“The Villainous Hero: Dynamight has recently started back in Pro Hero work!”
“The Villainous Hero recently debuted! Caught Texting with a Smile while fighting villains!—Who’s Got His Attention?”
“Dynamight Seen Smiling at Phone Mid-Patrol—New Love Interest?”
“The Ice Has Melted: Who Is Dynamight’s Mystery Girlfriend?”
“Dynamight caught grocery shopping for his lover?”
“Secret Girlfriend? Fans Speculate On Who Stole Dynamight’s Heart!”
“Oh my god…” she muttered, clicking deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole.
There were theories, endless speculation. Gossip forums that zoomed in on blurry photos of him in hoodies at convenience stores. A few claimed he was secretly dating a foreign pro hero. Others thought it was a woman named Camie, also a Pro Hero. One particularly loud faction believed it was a civilian—some girl who had nothing to do with hero work. A soft presence to balance out his fire.
“He doesn’t follow many people on social media, but one account got a follow after his return. Suspicious? We think so!”
“A coffee shop worker says she saw him buying two drinks and smiling. SMILING. When has Dynamight ever smiled at anyone?”
“He doesn’t do interviews. But someone’s texting him all the time. His teammates say he’s been ‘calmer’ lately. That can only mean one thing—love.”
Rosie rubbed her temples, stunned. He’s always alone… isn’t he? She thought about how Katsuki had always insisted he didn’t have time for relationships. About how he brushed off compliments and avoided attention. But then again—he kissed her . He held her, asked her if she was okay when no one else noticed. He looked at her like she mattered.
She scrolled back up to that article photo—the one of him on patrol, dirt-smeared and tired but… smiling, faintly.
Her heart squeezed.
Could it be true? Could he actually have been with someone this whole time? Or worse—was he still with someone?
She stared at the screen a long time before finally whispering to herself, “If he does… he never said anything.”
And that thought stung more than she wanted to admit. Rosie closed the laptop quietly, the screen going dark. She curled her legs under her and leaned back against the cushions, Maya hopping up beside her and curling up like a little loaf.
Her chest felt full—of what, she wasn’t quite sure.
But one thing she did know now, without a doubt: There was so much more to Katsuki Bakugou than what the world saw, then even she had seen.
The room is silent except for the low hum of the air conditioner. The moonlight filters in through the blinds, casting fractured shadows across the bed where Rosie lies tangled in sweat-damp sheets. Her brows are furrowed. A twitch in her fingers. Her chest rising and falling rapidly.
She’s bound to a chair. Blood dripping from her temple. Kyoma’s breath is hot against her ear as he whispers, "You're just like your mother. Weak."
Her scream echoes—raw, helpless as he slammed the large knife into her hand.
Another memory flashed:
The steering wheel jerks, glass shattering, and the world spins. Her mother’s scream is cut off by impact. She was twelve when this happened, trapped and crushed metal and gasoline filling the air. She can’t move, or breathe.
Another memory flashed:
Kyoma’s hands on her, a needle injected. Her scream gurgles as darkness eats at the edge of her vision.
Rosie jerks upright with a strangled scream, chest heaving like she can’t get air into her lungs. Sweat clings to her skin, her shirt damp. Her eyes are wide, wild, but unseeing—still caught in the grip of her nightmare.
Tears stream down her cheeks as she chokes on a sob, hands clawing at her own throat, her breaths sharp and ragged. “Stop—stop—please—” she gasps, curling in on herself as the room tilts.
She stumbles out of bed, legs barely functioning beneath her, hands slamming against the wall as she claws her way down the hallway. Her breath is too fast, too shallow.
Once inside the bathroom, she stumbled into the tub, yanking the cold-water handle until icy water blasts from the showerhead above.
It hits her like a slap—shocking.
Curling under it, knees to chest, arms wrapped tight around her body as she sobs, the tears mixing with the water rushing down her face.
Her teeth chatter, but she didn’t care, it was a relief. The water pours, relentless and cold, grounding her just enough to keep her from spiraling.
But the memories won’t stop. Kyoma’s voice. The car crash. Her mother’s body slumped in the seat beside her.
Her nails dig into her arms, trying to feel something else, anything else. “I’m okay. I’m okay,” she repeats through clenched teeth, though her voice cracks and her body trembles. “I’m not there. I’m not there.”
But her heart doesn’t believe it. So she stays there, beneath the freezing water, in a tub too big for how small she feels, trying to drown the past before it drowns her.
Notes:
okay so Rosie is starting to think hard about katsuki, only took like 30+ chapters for that to happen but we'll be getting some more moments between these two🤭
lemme know your thoughts and I will see you in the next one💖
Chapter 136: Tch. Just make sure you don’t cry more than she does when you ask
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki dragged a tired hand through his hair, the strands sticking to his forehead from the sweat and frustration that clung to him like a second skin. His eyes burned from hours of staring at the screen, watching and rewatching shaky phone footage, scrolling through hundreds of pictures taken at the party.
He slammed the laptop shut with a loud snap and tossed it onto the couch beside him, the force making it bounce once before settling. His jaw was tight, eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. His fingers twitched.
Nothing. No obvious suspects. No clear footage of someone handing Rosie a drink. No faces that stood out, no hands caught in the act. Whoever had done it had either been careful—or experienced.
The thought made his stomach churn.
She could’ve died. Worse, she could’ve been sexually assaulted.
He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. He had to remind himself: she’s okay. She’s alive. She wasn’t assaulted.
But that fact did little to quiet the brutal fury bubbling under his skin. If she had been… He would’ve killed someone and not just in theory. Blood and bone. No remorse.
Katsuki let out a harsh breath and shoved himself up, pacing the length of his house. His bare feet thudded softly against the floor as he moved like a storm cloud in slow motion.
He still didn’t know who the stalker was. No new notes. No new signs.
No new threats. But the silence didn’t sit right. They were waiting. Watching. Still there—hiding behind the curtains, the cameras, the crowd.
He paused by the window, staring out into the darkened skyline of the city. His reflection glared back at him. The thought struck him hard and fast: He couldn’t wait for this asshole to make the next move.
He needed to take control.
First though, he needed sleep.
The warm, savory scent of broth and grilled onions hung in the air. Rain tapped lazily against the windows outside, muting the world beyond the small, cozy restaurant. Inside, three of Japan’s top pro heroes sat around a corner booth — half out of disguise, half worn out from patrol.
Izuku stirred his soba with his chopsticks, lips pressed together like he was chewing on something more difficult than noodles. Katsuki was already halfway through his bowl, slouched low in the booth with a scowl that said “talk or don’t,” while Shoto, pristine as ever, quietly sipped his tea with that unreadable gaze of his.
Izuku cleared his throat. “So… I wanted to ask you guys for help.”
Katsuki raised a brow, mouth full. “The hell’s so important it’s making you twitch like that?”
Shoto’s chopsticks paused in midair, curious.
Izuku exhaled. “I want help in my proposal for Uraraka.”
Silence. Even the rain outside seemed to pause.
Katsuki stopped chewing. Shoto blinked once. “…You?” Katsuki said, narrowing his eyes. “Propose? Like, on your knees, ring and all?”
“Yes,” Izuku said quickly. “I just—I haven’t figured out how to do it yet. I know that I told you two before but I want it to be right. So I’m asking if you will help me plan it.”
Katsuki made a low noise in his throat. “You should’ve just done it already. You're a wreck the longer you wait.”
“He wants it to be meaningful,” Shoto said softly, setting his cup down. “You want to surprise her, right?”
“Exactly,” Izuku nodded, grateful. “I don’t want something flashy or public—she wouldn’t like that. But I don’t want it to be so quiet it doesn’t feel special, either.”
Katsuki leaned back, crossing his arms. “Then what’s the one place you both feel like… it’s just you two?”
Izuku paused, brows furrowing.
“…I guess that one overlook in Shibuya. The one we used to go to after missions before we started dating. She said the city lights made her feel like she could breathe again.”
Shoto gave a rare smile. “That sounds perfect.”
Katsuki scoffed. “Tch. Just make sure you don’t cry more than she does when you ask.”
Izuku flushed. “I will not cry!”
“You will cry,” Shoto agreed, sipping his tea. “Also try not to get snot all over the ring.”
Katsuki smirked. “Bet he doesn’t even make it through his first sentence.”
Izuku groaned, shoving more soba into his mouth like it could shut down the embarrassment. His phone buzzed against the table. “Ah—sorry, agency stuff,” he muttered, sliding out of the booth and stepping outside.
The moment he was gone, Shoto returned to his tea. Katsuki watched the door swing shut behind Izuku, then turned toward Shoto. “…So what’s going on with you and Momo?”
Shoto blinked once, like the question had just fallen out of the sky. “We’re not… exactly anything right now,” he said slowly.
Katsuki grunted. “You’ve been avoiding her?”
“I’m not sure what she wants anymore,” Shoto said quietly. “Or if she wants me to ask.”
There was a beat of silence.
“You still love her?”
Shoto didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
Katsuki looked at him for a moment. Then nodded once, gruffly. “Then don’t be a coward. Deku’s over there losing his shit trying to plan something perfect. You think Momo needs perfect ?”
Shoto’s eyes flicked to him, a flicker of something vulnerable behind the calm. “I really don’t know what she needs or wants anymore.”
Just then, Izuku returned, cheeks pink from the cold air, rubbing his hands together. “Okay! Crisis averted.”
Shoto smiled faintly. “We’ll help you plan it.”
Izuku beamed, cheeks turning red for a different reason. “Thanks, guys.”
The sun was just starting to dip below the horizon, casting a burnt-orange glow through the windows. Katsuki entered his apartment with a leash in one hand and a small bag of meds in the other. Lady padded in beside him, tail swishing, freshly bandaged paw thumping against the floor.
“Come on, sweet girl,” Katsuki muttered as he kicked off his boots and closed the door behind him. “You’re lucky the vet likes you. That bill was criminal.”
Lady huffed and flopped dramatically onto the rug, clearly milking the injury for all it was worth.
Katsuki dropped the bag on the kitchen counter and raked a hand through his hair, pausing mid-motion. Something… felt off . His eyes narrowed.
The air was wrong . Not in any obvious way—nothing was out of place. The door had been locked. The windows were shut. But his instincts screamed at him. He moved through the apartment slowly, deliberately. Checked the kitchen. The living room. His bedroom. The balcony. Even the bathroom. Every room was just as he left it.
No signs of entry. No items missing. Nothing broken. But still.
He lingered in the hallway, jaw tight, heart pacing faster than it should’ve.
“…Tch,” he finally muttered, shaking his head. “I’m just being paranoid.” He ran a hand down his face and turned back toward the kitchen.
KNOCK KNOCK.
The sharp knock at the door made him freeze. Lady perked up immediately, letting out a soft meow.
Katsuki glanced toward the door, tension instantly back in his shoulders. He moved toward it carefully, gaze narrowed, and opened it—just a crack at first. Then fully. Standing on the other side were Akira and Maerya.
He blinked.
Akira, tall and composed as always, looked nervous. Beside her, Maerya wore a low-cut blouse and her signature smirk—though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Katsuki’s voice dropped low. “Why the hell are you two here?”
Akira lifted her chin, arms crossed. “We need to talk.”
Maerya leaned against the doorframe, golden hoops catching the dying sunlight. “All three of us.”
His eyes narrowed. “About what ?”
Maerya glanced at Akira. Akira didn’t blink.
“…Rosie,” she said quietly.
Katsuki’s stomach turned, sighing, he stepped aside, reluctantly. “…You’ve got five minutes.”
The soft click of the door unlocking was followed by the quiet squeak of it swinging open. Katsuki stepped inside, careful not to let it slam shut behind him. The apartment was dark, save for the faint glow from the kitchen nightlight.
He didn’t bother turning on the overheads. He knew the layout well enough.
Rosie was still at work, running a late set at Ignis Inferno, and he’d waited until her shift had started before letting himself in with the spare key she’d given him back when they were dating.
He shut the door quietly, keyed in the alarm code to disarm it, then scanned the living room. Nothing out of place at first glance. But that didn’t mean shit.
He moved silently, shoulders tense, hyper-aware of every creak in the floorboards. It had been eating at him—this feeling that whoever had drugged her, followed her, watched her… wasn’t done . And if the bastard had gotten into her apartment once, he could do it again.
Katsuki’s hand flexed at his side, itching for a fight.
“Yap! Yap-yap-yap!”
He flinched and turned toward the hallway. Tiny paws scrambled against hardwood as Maya tore around the corner and ran straight at him like a furry missile.
Katsuki sighed as she skidded to a halt in front of him, tail wagging furiously, jumping in excited circles.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m here,” he muttered.
She yapped again, full of opinions.
He crouched and scooped her up, cradling the warm cotton ball of a dog against his chest. “You’re lucky she didn’t get a Great Dane or some other shit. You’re basically a mop with opinions.”
Maya let out a smug little snort and curled into his arm like she belonged there. Katsuki sighed again, quieter this time, and carried her with him as he started his search.
He moved room to room, eyes scanning carefully. In the bedroom, he checked the baseboards, the dresser drawers, even under the bed. Nothing unusual. No wires, no hidden lenses. No disturbed dust or scratched locks.
“Still clean,” he muttered, glancing around the corners near the ceiling. “Either I’m paranoid, or this asshole’s real good at covering his tracks.”
Maya grumbled softly in his arm, burying her face into his hoodie.
He headed into the bathroom next. Checked behind the mirror. Under the sink. Even lifted the tank lid on the toilet.
“Nothing,” he muttered. “Which pisses me off more, honestly.”
Finally, he made a full circle back to the living room. He put Maya down gently and watched as she pranced over to her favorite blanket, flopping down like she’d supervised the whole operation.
Katsuki looked around once more, jaw tight.
He wanted answers. He wanted a name, a face, something he could punch into the pavement. But right now, all he had was a gut feeling and a girl who trusted him to keep her safe. “…I’m not gonna let anything happen to her,” he said quietly, almost to himself.
Maya blinked up at him.
Katsuki sighed, fingers raking back through his hair as he glanced toward the front door. He’d already checked everything. No bugs. No signs of forced entry. Nothing out of place but still…
His boots made a dull thud against the floor as he turned— again —and headed back down the hallway, back toward her bedroom. He told himself he was just double-checking the locks on her window. That was a lie.
He stopped just inside the doorway, his eyes drawn—inevitably—to the covered wall. A large white sheet, pinned carefully into place, fluttered faintly from the air vent. It swayed like it was breathing. Like it knew he was there. Like it was daring him to touch it.
His jaw ticked, reaching forward, his hand reached up—slowly—and instead of yanking, he gently moved it aside.
Just enough.
Rows of photos stared back at him. Hand-pinned. Carefully aligned. Polaroids, printouts, even torn edges from old photo booths.
And there—tucked into the center like a constellation—was them .
Him and Rosie.
Grinning at a ramen bar, her cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk. Him glaring while she kissed his cheek, laughing. Them on a roller coaster, her hands in the air and his eyes wide like he hadn’t meant to enjoy it but did . A shot of her asleep on his shoulder. Another of him, shirtless, cooking in her kitchen with a grumpy scowl and flour on his face.
His throat tightened. He hadn’t even known she’d taken half of these. But the ones he did remember… they all felt like they came from a different lifetime. Back when he still had her.
He leaned a hand against the wall, staring at their faces. Her smile. The way she looked at him in every shot, like he was something more than just a weapon. Like he was hers .
“Damn it,” he muttered, voice low, rough.
He missed her.
He missed her laugh in his kitchen. The way she always stole his hoodie and pretended she didn’t. The little notes she used to leave in his gear bag. The smell of her shampoo on his pillows. Her voice in the morning. Maya yapping every time they kissed.
He clenched his jaw, pulling the sheet gently back over the wall. It fluttered down like a curtain on a play that ended too soon.
Then he just stood there, unmoving. “…Come home soon,” he said softly, almost a whisper. Not even sure who he was talking to anymore. Rosie. Himself. Or whatever broken thing lived between them now.
He walked out before he could second guess it.
Notes:
ahhhh poor Katsuki🤭 but good news for Izuku and Ochaco which we’ll be seeing that very soon
as always lemme know your thoughts and I’ll see you guys in the next one👌🏻
Chapter 137: Let me make up for some lost time.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was two in the damn morning.
Aizawa Shouta groaned low in his throat, head still fogged from sleep as the persistent knocking at his front door pulled him out of bed. His eyes burned—he had only just gotten home from Okinawa earlier that night, fresh off a week-long solo assignment with barely any rest.
He muttered under his breath as he dragged himself down the dark hallway, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “If that’s Yamada wanting to drag me out drinking, I swear to god I’m breaking his kneecaps—”
But when he opened the door, the sarcastic grumble in his throat died instantly. His body went still because standing on his doorstep was Rosie.
His daughter.
She was completely soaked, the thin material of her pajamas clinging to her frame, fuzzy pink slippers squelching with water. Her pink hair was plastered to her cheeks, and her face—
God. Her face was red , blotchy , her eyes swollen like she’d been crying for hours. Her arms were hugged tightly around her waist, her shoulders trembling. Her lips quivered as she looked up at him. Just one word: “…Dad.”
It was all she needed to say.
Aizawa reached for her immediately, wrapping her into his arms and pulling her in, pressing her soaked body against his chest. She broke—shaking, gasping, crying in that awful way that made his heart crack straight down the center. She was making that sound , that helpless keening from the back of her throat that said she had held it in for far too long.
He didn’t say anything for a moment. He just held her tighter.
Her breath hitched, and she whispered into his shirt, “I remember… Kyoma…”
Aizawa’s entire body stiffened.
His eyes darkened as he stared blankly past her, fury rising in a quiet, churning wave under his skin. Not now. Not yet. Later.
Right now, she needed her father. Not Eraserhead.
He cupped the back of her wet head and pulled her further inside, shutting the door behind them with a quiet click. “Alright,” he said softly, voice steady despite the storm building in his chest. “Go clean up, sunshine. Get into something dry before you catch a cold.”
She nodded wordlessly against him, and he guided her toward the bathroom, steadying her when her legs nearly buckled from exhaustion. Once she disappeared inside and the door closed behind her, Aizawa stood alone in the hallway.
His hands were wet. His shirt soaked. But his mind was already ten steps ahead—Kyoma’s name flaring like a siren.
He’d buried the man twice, once in his mind, and the other six feet under in the woods. And if Rosie was remembering what had happened… then the past was no longer buried.
The quiet hum of the kettle was the only sound in the apartment. Aizawa stood in the kitchen, dark circles under his eyes and hair tied back lazily, stirring the cocoa powder into the mug. He added a dash of milk, a pinch of cinnamon—Rosie had always liked it that way—and poured the steaming liquid into her favorite chipped Totoro mug she used as a kid.
He sighed through his nose, glancing over his shoulder.
The apartment was dim, just the soft glow of the lamp by the couch lighting the space. The silence pressed heavily against him. He didn’t like silence when it was this heavy—this hollow .
By the time Rosie came out, freshly showered and quiet as a mouse, he was already seated on the couch, the mug waiting in his hands.
She was wearing an oversized black long sleeve that clearly belonged to him, the hem falling to her mid-thigh, with a pair of his old sweats rolled at the ankles. Her damp hair hung loosely over her shoulders, her eyes pink and puffy but no longer streaming.
Without a word, she shuffled over to the couch and curled up beside him, her body fitting easily into his side.
He handed her the mug.
She took it carefully. “Thanks,” she whispered, voice barely there.
He nodded once, eyes fixed ahead, letting her sit in silence for a few moments as she blew on the hot chocolate and took a slow sip. Then, gently: “What do you remember?”
She was quiet. Her fingers tightened slightly around the mug. “I remember…” Her voice cracked a little, and she cleared her throat. “I remember being in that room again. Where Kyoma took me. I was strapped down. He was talking to me—laughing. I remember the smell. The lights. The sound of metal…”
Aizawa’s jaw clenched, but he stayed silent, listening.
“I remember screaming.” Her voice trembled. “I remember he hurt you, too. You were there, bleeding… and I couldn’t do anything…”
A beat passed.
“Nothing else?” he asked gently.
Rosie’s eyes dropped to the mug in her lap.
“I remember Mina… her holding my hand. Kirishima, who smiled at me. Shoto, too. Tsui and Momo…” She exhaled slowly, voice growing quieter. “And a few others. But it’s like—like watching a movie underwater. The faces aren’t always clear. And everything else just… fades.”
Aizawa nodded faintly, his arm moving to wrap around her shoulders. He pulled her closer, holding her against his chest as her breathing hitched and her grip on the mug tightened.
“I woke up… from the nightmare,” she whispered into his shirt. “I—I couldn’t breathe. I was shaking. I tried to shower, but it didn’t help. So… I just walked here.”
He froze. “Rosie,” he said softly, though his voice carried a sharper edge now. “You walked. All the way here. At two in the morning?”
She nodded against him, shame prickling in her chest.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” she murmured. “I just—I didn’t want to be alone anymore.”
Aizawa wanted to scold her. Wanted to say, You could’ve called me. You’re vulnerable right now. It’s ten miles. You shouldn’t be out alone.
But when he looked down at her—his daughter, curled against him in his old clothes, still trembling, eyes glassy with tears—he couldn’t do it. Instead, he sighed and tucked her head beneath his chin. “Next time,” he said gently, “call me. I’ll come to you. No matter the hour.”
Rosie sniffled, nodding.
He held her close, his fingers slowly brushing through her damp hair, grounding her, anchoring her back into the present. “You’re safe now,” he murmured. “I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”
By the time the wall clock ticked past four in the morning, both father and daughter had fallen asleep—curled together on the couch, her small frame tucked into his side like she used to when she was little and frightened of the dark.
The sun was well over the horizon by the time Aizawa stirred. It was nearly nine when he blinked the sleep from his eyes, his neck sore from the awkward position but his arms still wrapped protectively around his daughter. She hadn’t moved much. Her breathing was slow and even—still exhausted from whatever storm had driven her to his doorstep in the dead of night.
He didn’t wake her. Instead, he gently gathered her into his arms and carried her to his bed. She barely stirred as he laid her down, brushing the damp strands of hair from her cheek before pulling the blanket over her.
Then he went to the kitchen, feet dragging slightly against the hardwood, and started the coffee.
As the smell of ground beans filled the space, a heavier, darker weight settled in his chest. One he’d been avoiding. Guilt and anger had been wrestling inside him since the moment Rosie regained any memories of Kyoma—but guilt always won.
Why?
Because Kyoma had come after her to get to him .
If he hadn’t been on assignment. If he hadn’t been a pro hero. If he hadn’t made enemies the way he had—none of this would’ve happened. Kyoma wouldn’t have gone after Miyu. Wouldn’t have targeted Rosie. His family wouldn’t have been turned into collateral damage.
He leaned his hands on the counter, head bowed, breathing deeply through his nose.
After everything, after Rosie’s memories were lost to trauma and time, he’d tried to give her space. She needed it—just as much as he did. He’d grieved for Miyu all over again, remembering her warmth, her wit, her quiet strength in the face of raising Rosie while he was often away. He hadn’t let himself fall apart—not publicly. But the weight of mourning never really lessened, only shifted.
And Rosie… Rosie had always been soft. Gentle in ways the world didn’t deserve. Naive, yes. Too trusting. Too hopeful. He and Miyu had built walls around her, tried to protect her from the world’s cruelty.
However, in doing so, they had failed to prepare her for when the world inevitably found its way in.
Aizawa felt it like acid in his gut. They had coddled her, overprotected her. Hid the worst parts of their jobs from her. And now— now —she was paying for it. She had been tortured and exploited. Her quirk used against her.
He could still see it when he closed his eyes.
Rosie, strapped to that chair, her healing ability keeping her alive so Kyoma could do it again and again. And all he could do was scream behind bloodied lips and watch her suffer.
He turned from the counter, throat tight, gripping the side of the kitchen table.
Damn the hero work.
He had always operated in the shadows, far from the spotlight. But after the League, after the War, he was pushed to the forefront. More interviews, more visibility, and more attention and that attention came with consequences.
It exposed him. And it exposed her .
He’d never forgive himself for that. As he thought about her healing—her slowly regaining memory, her barely sleeping, her walking across the city at two in the morning—he felt a familiar protective urge rise up again.
Maybe she should move in with him.
He knew it wouldn’t work. Rosie needed her independence. Her own space. Her autonomy. It was part of who she was, a hard-fought right she clung to even after everything. But…
She wasn’t ready. Not really. Not yet. She was still that tender-hearted girl who trusted too easily. Who smiled at everyone and never locked her door unless he reminded her. The world was brutal, and it didn’t care how sweet or gentle she was.
She needed protection.
But she definitely didn’t need another hero in her life. No. He wouldn’t allow that. She was done with hero work. Done with everything that came with it. If someone wanted to date his daughter, they could have a normal job, a normal life. A nine-to-five with weekends off and zero involvement in the world that had nearly destroyed her.
His jaw set.
She deserved peace . She deserved quiet . She deserved a life free from the dangers and chaos he had long accepted for himself.
His train of thought was broken by a sleepy, scratchy voice behind him. “What’s for breakfast…?”
He turned around to see Rosie standing in the doorway, her eyes still a little puffy but clearer now. Her hair was drying and slightly frizzy, her posture relaxed in that too-big shirt she still hadn’t taken off. There was even a soft smile ghosting her lips, tentative, but there.
He grunted, softening. “I was thinking we’d meet your uncle for breakfast. Sound good?”
She nodded and turned to pad down the hall toward her old bedroom. “I’m gonna change.”
“Take your time,” he said quietly, watching her go.
As she disappeared behind the door, Aizawa let his thoughts return. No heroes. No pro-hero work. No capes. No damn exposure. His daughter would have a quiet life, even if he had to carve that path for her himself.
The café was warm with the low hum of quiet conversations and the smell of toasted bread and fresh espresso hanging in the air. Aizawa sat in the booth across from Hizashi, sipping his black coffee while Rosie tucked herself into the seat beside him, her knees drawn up slightly, fingers wrapped around a steaming mug of hot chocolate. Her hair was still a little messy from earlier, but her posture had softened, the nervous tension she’d carried when she first arrived at his doorstep nearly gone.
She was smiling now—genuinely—as Hizashi animatedly told a story about a student who accidentally short-circuited the entire sound system during a training exercise. Rosie laughed, her eyes crinkling in the corners, and Aizawa felt a strange knot in his chest loosen a little. That laugh had been gone for too long.
“So, kiddo,” Hizashi said, nudging her with his elbow, “what’s the plan after graduation? You thinking about internships again? Teaching? Working with saving Pro Heros?”
Rosie blinked, surprised by the question, then gave a small, uncertain laugh. “I… I don’t know yet.”
“There’s no rush,” Aizawa cut in smoothly, not even looking up from his cup. “She’s not on anyone’s clock. I told her she could take as long as she needs. I’ll support her either way.”
Rosie looked over at him, her expression warm and a little shy. “Thanks, Dad.”
He nodded silently, and she gave Hizashi an apologetic smile. “Excuse me—I’ll be right back. Bathroom.”
She slid out of the booth and disappeared around the corner.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Hizashi leaned forward, eyebrow raised behind his yellow shades. “Okay. What’s that about?”
Aizawa exhaled, finally putting his mug down. “She’s been through enough. I’m not pushing her into anything right now. Not career choices. Not plans. She’s still healing.”
Hizashi's smile faded into something quieter. “Right. Kyoma…”
Aizawa didn’t answer, but his jaw tightened. “I just love my daughter,” he said finally, his voice quieter than before. “I’m not going to treat her like she’s broken, but I’m not going to act like everything’s fine either. She’s got pieces to pick up. She needs time.”
Hizashi studied him for a moment, then leaned back with a sigh. “You’ve got that look in your eye again.”
“What look.”
“The one that says if you had it your way, she’d be living under your roof, wrapped in bubble wrap, and never more than ten feet from your line of sight.”
Aizawa didn’t deny it. “She walked ten miles to my apartment at two in the morning because she had a panic attack,” he muttered, eyes fixed on the steam curling off his coffee. “I didn’t even know until she was knocking on my door, soaking wet and shaking.”
Hizashi gave a sympathetic frown, but then said, “I get it. I really do. But you’ve got to let her breathe, Sho. You smother her now, she’s gonna push back hard. That kid’s still got fight in her—even if she’s hurt.”
Aizawa sighed again, but this time it was with reluctant acceptance. “Yeah. I know. She’s always been like her mother in that way.”
“Exactly.” Hizashi smiled softly. “Miyu wouldn’t want her protected from everything. Just given the choice, y’know? Let her stand on her own when she’s ready. And maybe… just maybe… help her dream again.”
Aizawa gave a quiet grunt. Then he glanced over his shoulder—just in time to see Rosie rounding the corner, her expression brighter, her steps lighter. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “When she’s ready.”
The sun had just started to pierce through the cloud cover, casting a pale morning light over the city as Aizawa pulled up in front of Rosie’s apartment building. The engine idled softly as she unbuckled her seatbelt, holding her bag against her chest.
He watched her for a second, gauging her mood. She was quieter again now that they were close to her space, but it wasn’t that withdrawn silence she’d had the night before. It was just… thoughtful.
“You need anything before I go?” he asked, voice low and steady.
Rosie shook her head, then paused. “No. I’ve got everything. Thanks.”
Her hand was already on the door handle when she hesitated again. Then, without another word, she turned and leaned across the center console to hug him. It wasn’t a brief squeeze. She held him tight, pressing her face into the crook of his shoulder, her voice muffled but sincere. “Thank you… for still taking care of me.”
Aizawa blinked, something raw catching in his throat. His arms wrapped around her slowly, firmly, and he let out a soft breath against her hair. “Always,” he murmured. “I’ll start coming around more often. Make sure you’re alright.”
Rosie leaned back just enough to look at him, eyes red but dry now. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” he interrupted gently. “Lunch. Three times a week. My treat. Or yours, if you feel like showing off.”
A watery smile curved on her lips. “You’re just trying to make sure I don’t starve.”
“That, and I miss you,” he said honestly. “Let me make up for some lost time.”
She nodded, eyes soft. “Okay.”
“Go on,” he said, jerking his chin toward the door. “Get inside before I decide to drag you back home.”
Rosie rolled her eyes but smiled and stepped out, hoisting her bag over her shoulder.
He waited until she made it to the lobby, only pulling away once she waved at him from the threshold. Still, even as he turned the corner and merged back onto the road, Aizawa kept one hand on his phone. Because no matter what she said—no matter how strong she tried to be—he wasn’t going to stop watching out for his little girl. Not this time.
Notes:
I know this chapter is super late, trust me, it was not supposed to take this long. I ended up having a family emergency in regards to my grandmother and where she lives is out in the sticks, like your closest neighbor is a mile away type sticks and she has no wi-fi or cell service. So no updates, I did have my boyfriend update once while I was gone but he updated the wrong fic so bless him for trying😂✋🏻 anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and I will see you in the next one💖
Chapter 138: You picked the wrong damn train to hijack!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The city pulsed beneath them, lit in pools of golden streetlamps and the occasional neon flicker of signs advertising ramen, tech upgrades, or late-night convenience stores. Wind tugged at Katsuki’s hood as he crouched on the edge of a rooftop, eyes scanning the calm streets below. Shoto stood beside him, arms folded, half-shrouded in shadow, the gentle hum of his commlink their only soundtrack.
“Hard to believe it’s quiet tonight,” Katsuki muttered.
Shoto gave a slow nod, his breath fogging lightly in the air. “Quiet’s not always bad.”
“Yeah, well,” Katsuki shifted his weight, glancing at his partner with narrowed eyes. “How the hell are we supposed to stretch our legs if everyone decides to behave?”
Shoto smirked faintly, glancing down toward the alleyway. “I think your legs could use a break. You’ve been running nonstop.”
“Tch. You’re not my physio,” Katsuki snorted, but he didn’t push further. His shoulders rolled as he exhaled and turned toward him. “So… Izuku.”
Shoto blinked, then glanced over. “What about him?”
Katsuki made a face, half a scowl, half a grimace. “I’m not surprised the nerd finally got the courage to propose.”
Shoto’s brows lifted slightly. “Isn’t it too soon? ”
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed. “They’ve been dating for three years. That's ‘soon’ to you?”
“Considering how nervous he gets around her still?” Shoto shrugged. “A little.”
Katsuki huffed. “He’s not gonna get any less nervous. He’s just gonna start doing it in a tie.”
Shoto actually laughed at that—quiet, short, but real.
Katsuki smirked, arms crossing over his chest. “He’s gonna make a good husband, though.”
Shoto tilted his head. “You surprised?”
Katsuki looked down at the city. “No. Just thinking about how fast things are moving.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and quiet. For a second, neither of them said anything.
BZZT.
Their earpieces flared to life with a sharp buzz.
“Code 17 at Sakuraba Station—villain has hijacked a passenger train. Class A threat, multiple civilians on board. Units en route.”
Katsuki was already on his feet, eyes sharp. “Tch. Finally.”
Shoto was moving with him, boots silent against the rooftop. “Sakuraba’s three blocks south. We’ll get there before emergency services.”
Katsuki’s mouth curled in a wicked grin. “Let’s make sure whoever this bastard is really regrets tonight.”
And with a blast of flame, he launched himself into the air, trailing sparks as Shoto followed behind, ice forming under his feet before he leapt clean off the roof.
The air was thick with smoke and panic as Katsuki and Shoto landed near the ruined platform of Sakuraba Station. Sparks flew from damaged rail wiring, and the sharp screech of twisted metal echoed across the chaos. Half the train—its final three cars—teetered dangerously over a jagged drop, the rails beneath it utterly annihilated. Civilians were screaming, some pinned inside the cars, while others tried to crawl toward safety across the tilted, groaning floor.
A group of villains in dark, mismatched armor stood near the control terminal, barking orders and laughing as they flung debris and threatened bystanders. Explosions had already torn through parts of the station, turning pillars to rubble.
Shoto immediately took stock. “There are too many people still on that train. I’ll freeze a support rail, buy them time before it falls.”
Katsuki was already growling, fists sparking as he glared at the villains. “Good. I’ll handle the trash.”
Shoto gave him a curt nod and darted toward the broken rail line, a wave of frost trailing in his wake as he began to carefully reinforce the shattered infrastructure with thick bands of shimmering ice. It groaned under the weight of the train, but held—for now.
Meanwhile, Katsuki launched forward with a guttural yell, palms igniting as he blasted toward the villains. He moved like a missile, barreling into the nearest two and sending them flying into the side of a maintenance shed with a thunderous crash.
“Get the hell away from them!” he barked, sliding through smoke and debris, narrowly dodging a lightning strike from one of the villains with a quirk-enhanced gauntlet. “You want a fight? Here I am!”
Another charged him—tall, muscular, with blades for arms that extended with each lunge.
Katsuki ducked the first slash and countered with an explosive palm to the gut, twisting mid-air to catch a second villain behind him with a well-placed grenade blast. “Two down,” he growled, eyes scanning the rest.
Three more rushed him at once, quirks lighting the space with elemental chaos—fire, ice, wind. But he was faster.
He weaved through them, one palm propelling him into the air while the other exploded right beneath a wind-user’s feet. The villain cried out, knocked unconscious before he even hit the ground.
“You picked the wrong damn train to hijack!”
He was mid-swing, palm about to detonate again—
Then he heard it. A scream, familiar and sharp with terror.
His heart stopped, he snapped his head towards the train. His eyes zeroed in on one of the half-tilted cars—and there she was.
Rosie.
Her hair was wind-blown and her eyes wide with panic as she clung to a safety bar, helping Maya stay balanced as the car tilted more and more. Maya was clutched tightly in her arm, barking, as the car groaned beneath them.
“What the—” Katsuki’s breath hitched, his body freezing even as explosions still crackled in his palms. “What the hell is she doing here?!”
A villain slammed into him while he was distracted, catching him with a rough hit to the side. He staggered, hissed, then roared in fury, blasting the assailant away.
But his mind was reeling. Rosie was on that train. Why the hell would she be out this late with only Maya? Was she running errands? Going home? Something didn’t add up.
“Damn it, Rosie!” Katsuki growled, jaw clenched so tight it ached. He drove an explosive palm straight into a villain’s chest, the force sending them skidding across the platform and crashing into a support pillar.
She shouldn’t be here. She couldn’t be here.
He caught another glimpse of her—Rosie, still gripping the safety bar, trying to shield Maya behind her body. The little cotton swab of a dog looked like a puff of terrified snow, whining and pressed against her leg as the car tilted further, its metal joints shrieking in protest.
That car was going to fall.
Every muscle in Katsuki’s body locked into focus. The villains didn’t matter anymore—not when she was hanging between life and death.
A burst of flame shot out around him as he propelled upward, but just before he could launch himself toward the train, a flash of red and green shot past him—heroes. Backup had arrived.
Finally.
With relief he didn’t have time to express, he shoved past the remaining resistance and took to the sky, the smoke and sparks trailing behind him in a fiery tail.
The moment he landed on the crumbling edge of the train, the car jerked violently, metal screeching as it gave another groan. Rosie yelped, grabbing hold of Maya as the ground beneath them tilted even more.
His arm wrapped firmly around Rosie’s waist, lifting her and the small dog up with one explosive push. She gasped, holding tight as they blasted through the smoke and debris, sailing through the air before landing roughly on a nearby rooftop, high above the chaos.
The moment his boots hit solid ground, he released her—but not without immediately turning and grabbing her shoulders. “Are you hurt?”
She blinked, startled. “No—I’m okay, I—”
He didn’t even let her finish. His eyes scanned her—shoulders, arms, legs, face—searching for any signs of injury. His palm hovered above her cheek, trembling slightly with leftover adrenaline. “You could’ve been killed, Rosie. What the hell were you doing out this late? Alone? With that cotton ball who can’t protect you?!” His voice cracked with a mixture of fury and fear.
Maya let out a soft offended bark, fluff sticking out in every direction like a dandelion that had been electrocuted.
Rosie narrowed her eyes, flushed and shaking. “We were not alone! I wasn’t expecting to get caught in the middle of a train hijack, Katsuki! And Maya is plenty capable of protecting me!”
“You should’ve called me!” he shouted back, voice rising. “I would’ve come. You know I would’ve come!”
“I didn’t know I had to report every grocery run to you now! God forbid I want some chamomile tea and almond milk at night!”
He growled, dragging a hand down his face. “That’s not the point—!”
“Then what is the point?! That I’m not allowed to go outside anymore? That I need permission—?”
He didn’t even think, instead he grabbed her by the waist and yanked her against him, crushing his mouth to hers.
The rooftop fell silent, save for the distant sounds of the train car being stabilized and heroes shouting below. Her hands braced against his chest, stunned at first—but then softening as she melted into the kiss, gasping softly when his hand slid up to cup the side of her face.
When he pulled back, his voice was low, rough, and ragged. “The point is that I can’t protect you if I don’t know where you are.”
Her lip trembled.
“Just—just stay here,” he muttered, brushing her hair back. “Please. Don’t move. I’ll come back.”
And with one last look at her tear-bright eyes and flushed cheeks, he turned and launched himself into the night again, fire trailing in his wake.
The night was far from over for the rest of the city, but for Katsuki, his patrol was done the moment Rosie’s feet hit solid ground. He stayed long enough to make sure the train was secured, the villains were rounded up, and that Maya wasn’t having a nervous breakdown from all the noise.
But the moment the authorities waved him off and thanked him, he made up his mind. He was done with Hero work for the night.
Still in his uniform, chest marked with ash and soot, gloves singed, and boots heavy with dust, he walked beside Rosie in tense, stubborn silence as they made their way to her apartment.
She clutched Maya in her arms, letting the little dog curl into her coat. The walk was slow, quiet—uncharacteristically so for her—and it wasn’t until they reached the steps to her place that she finally turned to him.
The porch light flickered softly above them, casting warm shadows across his hard-set features. His arms were crossed now, his jaw still tight, and his gaze set somewhere off to the side like he was trying not to look directly at her again.
Rosie tilted her head. “Why are you like this?”
He blinked. “Like what?”
“So… protective. Overbearing. Furious every time I sneeze too far from a building exit,” she half-joked, but her voice was soft. There was an edge of sincerity in it, a question she genuinely needed answered.
Katsuki’s shoulders tensed, but he didn’t speak at first. He looked at her for a long moment, eyes unreadable in the dim light. Then, quietly, with a shrug that felt far more like surrender than defense, “because I can’t help myself.”
The words landed between them like a secret he hadn’t meant to say out loud.
Rosie blinked, stunned for a second. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” he muttered, running a hand through his sweat-mussed hair. “So stop makin’ it harder.”
She let out a small breath, smiling despite herself. “I’m not trying to.”
He stepped back then, his jaw twitched, his gaze flickering to her lips—then back to her eyes. And for one wild moment, he nearly closed the distance between them again. He could see it in her eyes too—that tug, that pull, like gravity. But instead of kissing her, he looked away sharply. “Lock the damn door behind you.”
“Katsuki—”
“Goodnight.” He turned, the heat of his presence fading as he strode down the street, the soft burst of his boots echoing in the quiet.
Rosie stood there a long moment, heart pounding, arms wrapped around Maya as the little dog huffed gently against her chest.
“…He really can’t help himself,” she whispered to the pup.
Maya gave a tired bark in agreement.
Notes:
I have decided to make a schedule in regards to posting all of my fics. This is due to my needing time to read my favorite fics and preparing for the school year ahead as I will be moving back into a dorm again here pretty soon💖
I hope you guys enjoy the chapter, lemme know your thoughts and I will see you in the next one👌🏻
Chapter 139: HA! GOT YOU, YOU LITTLE SHIT.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie had a lot of fears. Perfectly rational ones, she liked to believe. Thunderstorms made her anxious. Heights made her dizzy. The dark reminded her of all the things she couldn't see. But rats? Rats were her worst nightmare.
She hadn’t even seen the whole thing—just a flash of greasy gray fur and a long pink tail darting across the kitchen floor while she was making stir fry. The scream that left her lungs wasn’t one of dainty fright—it was pure, visceral terror.
The pan clattered from her hands, hot food spilling across her foot. She yelped at the sting, hopping away as fast as she could before practically flying into her bedroom and slamming the door behind her. Maya barked frantically from her bed across the room, confused but loyal.
Half-crying and shaking, she grabbed her phone with trembling fingers and dialed the only person she could trust to handle this kind of thing.
“Katsuki,” she whimpered the second he picked up. “Th-There’s a rat—I dropped dinner on my foot—I’m bleeding and it’s still in the apartment—I swear it looked at me and—please, I need you—”
He didn’t even say goodbye. Just a sharp, “I’m coming.”
Not five minutes later, her apartment door slammed open with a force only Katsuki could manage. She barely heard the footsteps before he was barging into her bedroom, his chest rising and falling with adrenaline, his eyes scanning the room like he expected a villain to be holding her hostage.
He froze in the doorway.
There she was—curled up on the bed, mascara smudged, clutching a pillow and her phone like they were life preservers. Her foot was red from the hot oil, and her whole face was blotchy from crying.
But the second she saw him, all that tension in her body broke like a dam. “Katsuki!” she sobbed, scrambling off the bed and running straight into his arms, burying her face in his chest.
His hands came up instinctively, catching her around the waist as she trembled against him. “You’re alright,” he murmured, frowning as he looked her over. “You’re okay, Rosie.”
“Thank you—thank you for coming—I swear it was huge and it had this evil look in its eyes and I think it hissed at me and I just—can you please get rid of it? Please?”
He stared down at her, deadpan. “…It hissed?”
“Yes!” she wailed. “Or maybe that was me—but I don’t care, kill it, Katsuki.”
Still holding her, he blinked once. Then gave a firm nod. “Fine.”
He pulled away gently and turned toward the kitchen with the focus of a man going to war.
Rosie waited on the bed, still trembling and sniffling as she hugged Maya and listened to the sounds of cabinets opening, drawers being rummaged through, furniture being shoved aside, and one very serious pro hero muttering curses under his breath.
It took him an hour—an hour of searching every possible hiding place, laying a clever breadcrumb trail of peanut butter, and using a cooking pot and some blast precision only Katsuki Bakugou possessed.
Finally, there was a loud “HA! GOT YOU, YOU LITTLE SHIT.” Followed by the clang of a lid being slammed shut.
He came back to her bedroom, holding the pot like a trophy, a grim sort of satisfaction on his face. “It’s in here,” he said.
She blinked at him, eyes wide and tear-streaked. “You actually caught it?”
He grunted. “Of course I did.”
Her lip quivered, then she threw herself into his arms again. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, yeah. I just fought vermin from hell for you.” He smirked, gently petting her hair as she sniffled into his chest. Katsuki’s eyes flicked down to her injured foot as she clung to him, his frown deepening. “You didn’t tell me it was this bad,” he muttered, carefully kneeling to take a better look.
The red was already beginning to fade—he knew her quirs gave her faster healing than most—but it still looked raw and angry, and there was dried blood clinging to her ankle where the hot oil had splattered.
“Tch… damn stir fry,” he grumbled, mostly to himself. Then, without asking, he hooked one arm under her legs and the other around her back, lifting her like she weighed nothing.
“Katsuki—!”
“Bathroom,” he snapped. “Sit tight.”
She clung to him again, letting her head rest on his shoulder, heart still beating too fast from the whole ordeal. The safety of being in his arms was a strange contrast to the tears she’d shed just moments ago.
He nudged the bathroom door open with his foot and set her down gently on the closed toilet lid before grabbing a washcloth and some antiseptic. Rosie hissed as he dabbed at the wound.
“Stop whining,” he murmured, glancing up at her face with soft but annoyed eyes. “You’ll live.”
“I’m not whining,” she sniffed. “I’m reacting.”
He smirked at that.
Once her foot was clean, he rinsed out the washcloth and stood. “Stay off it tonight. I’ll cook.”
She blinked. “You… cook?”
He raised a brow. “You think I live off takeout and protein bars?”
“…Yes.”
“Well, I don’t. Get out there and sit your ass down. You’re on clean-up duty.”
She limped her way to the kitchen, ignoring the faint ache in her foot as she grabbed a sponge and started scrubbing at the counter and floor. The mess of her ruined dinner was still everywhere—veggies, spilled sauce, and one very sad pan that had flipped upside down.
Katsuki washed his hands, rolled up his sleeves, and pulled open her fridge like he belonged there. Within seconds, he was gathering ingredients, slicing with efficient, precise movements—like cooking was just another form of battle he’d already mastered.
Rosie rinsed the last of the rice off the stove and glanced up to watch him, brushing her damp bangs from her forehead.
Something strange settled in her chest.
They were moving around the kitchen like a practiced team—without bumping elbows, without snapping at each other, without stepping on one another’s toes. Like they’d done it a thousand times before. She’d seen couples cook together before. It was supposed to be chaotic and clumsy.
This… wasn’t. It was quiet, calm and comfortable.
She shook it off, blaming the endorphins or leftover adrenaline, and tossed the sponge into the sink. Katsuki glanced up from where he was stirring something over the burner. “Done already?”
“Yeah,” she murmured, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she leaned her arms against the bar that overlooked the stove.
And then she just… watched him.
Watched the way his muscles flexed under his shirt when he lifted the pan. Watched how the gold of the kitchen lights caught the strands in his ash-blond hair. Watched the sharp line of his jaw, the crease between his brows as he focused on plating something that smelled way better than her sad stir fry had.
He didn’t look like a man who’d just spent an hour hunting a rat. Or a pro hero who could level buildings with his bare hands. He just looked —Handsome. Really, unfairly, distractingly handsome.
Her fingers curled loosely around the edge of the counter. “You know… this might be the weirdest second dinner I’ve ever had,” she said softly.
He didn’t look up. “Better than bleeding in your bedroom over a rodent?”
She smiled. “Much.”
They sat across from each other at her small kitchen table, warm plates between them, steam curling upward and filling the space with a rich, savory aroma.
Rosie took one bite—and promptly froze. Her eyes widened. “Wait… wait, wait, hold on. ” She chewed slower, savoring the taste, then pointed at him with her fork. “You made this from scratch?”
Katsuki, already halfway through his first helping, shrugged like it was nothing. “Yeah.”
“This is amazing! ” she said with a bright, surprised laugh. “Like—like actually, restaurant-level amazing. Katsuki, what the hell? Why don’t you do this more often?”
He glanced up at her, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smug half-smile. “Because people lose their damn minds when they find out I can make a reduction sauce.”
She gave a small squeal, practically bouncing in her seat. “This is so good! You seared the chicken perfectly! And the rice? It’s actually fluffy— fluffy! Do you know how hard that is?!”
Katsuki snorted. “You were about to set your apartment on fire with stir fry. I definitely know how hard it is.”
Rosie stuck her tongue out at him, then happily shoveled another forkful into her mouth. “Seriously, I feel like I just got my foot burned and won a five-star dinner as a reward.”
“You’re dramatic,” he muttered, though he didn’t look all that annoyed. His eyes kept drifting toward her, watching the way she devoured his cooking with unapologetic delight, cheeks flushed from warmth and praise.
“You’re a hero and a chef,” she declared, grinning at him across the table. “Multitalented, explosive golden god.”
He rolled his eyes, cheeks faintly pink. “Shut up and eat your damn food.”
“I am! I’m just appreciating you properly.” She beamed. “This is incredible. You’re incredible.”
Katsuki shook his head, but there was no hiding the quiet pride in his eyes. “Yeah, yeah… just don’t get used to it. I don’t cook for just anyone.”
Her heart skipped—just for a second—but she quickly tucked that reaction away and reached for another bite, cheeks warm for a whole different reason now. “Guess I’ll consider myself lucky,” she murmured, smiling softly.
He didn’t answer that.
But the look he gave her? That said everything.
The clink of forks and quiet hum of conversation had long since faded, replaced by the soft murmur of the city through Rosie’s open balcony and the subtle buzz of the late-night air. Katsuki, lounging comfortably on her couch. Rosie sat beside him, legs tucked beneath her, in a tank top and shorts.
They’d been talking about nothing and everything—patrol stories, dumb villain names, and how much she hated the idea of rats having elbows. Katsuki had actually laughed at that, a low, rough sound that made her chest ache in the best way.
Now, the space between them had shrunk to practically nothing. Her knee brushed against his, and she hadn’t moved it. He hadn’t either.
“Thanks again… for coming over,” Rosie said, softer now. Her head tilted slightly to look up at him. “Even though I screamed in your ear and probably sounded like a dying pigeon.”
Katsuki snorted, but he turned his body more toward her, one arm draped over the back of the couch. “Yeah, well… figured something was really wrong. You don’t call me like that unless it’s serious.”
She smiled faintly. “A rat’s serious.”
His lips twitched. “You threw yourself at me like I was saving you from a building collapse.”
“You’re warm,” she said with a small shrug. “And you make me feel safe.”
Those words hung between them for a beat too long. Katsuki’s gaze dropped to her mouth, flicked back to her eyes, then down again. Her heart stuttered. “Katsuki…” she whispered.
But she didn’t get to finish, because in the next moment, he leaned in and kissed her.
It wasn’t soft—not at first. His lips crashed into hers, all heat and frustration and something desperate he hadn’t been able to name until now. She gasped, and he used it, kissing her deeper, hand sliding into her hair and the other gripping her waist like he couldn’t stand the idea of letting her go.
She moaned softly into his mouth, fingers curling in his shirt. She kissed him back like she meant it—like she’d been waiting for this too. The kiss was messy, heated, all teeth and tongue and gasping for breath when they pulled apart only to crash back together again.
They shifted—her back hitting the cushions, him following her down—and neither of them stopped, hands roaming, mouths moving in a rhythm that had nothing to do with logic and everything to do with longing. He cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb under her eye, then kissed her again, slower this time, savoring the way she trembled beneath him.
And then he was kissing her again.
Everything else—the hum of traffic outside, the soft buzz of the overhead light, even the steady thrum of her own heartbeat—blurred into static. Her brain couldn’t hold a single thought. Not when his mouth was on hers. Not when his hand slid under the fabric of her tank top, splaying wide across her waist like he belonged there.
Her fingers threaded into his hair, dragging him impossibly closer as their mouths moved in a rhythm so natural it made her chest ache. There was nothing gentle about this. His kiss was consuming, hot and insistent, full of everything he hadn’t said but had clearly been feeling for far too long.
When he licked into her mouth, her hips arched without permission. The small, involuntary whimper she made only encouraged him, and he responded by deepening the kiss, tilting her head with a hand on her jaw, thumb brushing tenderly beneath her eye like she was something breakable—even as he devoured her like he couldn’t get enough.
She gasped when his lips left hers, trailing kisses along the line of her jaw, then down her neck. The sensation of his teeth grazing her skin—just the faintest nip—sent sparks down her spine and left her dizzy.
“Katsuki,” she breathed, barely audible, fingers fisting in his shirt like a lifeline. His name left her lips like a plea.
He hummed in response, the sound low and deep, vibrating against her throat. Every time she tried to think—to form some coherent string of thoughts—it was scattered the moment his mouth found a new place to kiss. To suck. To tease.
Her thighs shifted restlessly beneath him. Her skin felt too tight, her thoughts sluggish and thick with heat. All she knew— all she knew —was the way his tongue swiped the corner of her mouth before he kissed her again, slower this time, lips dragging over hers like he was memorizing the shape.
She trembled beneath him, unable to help it. He felt so solid above her, so sure in his movements, so devastating in the way he kept kissing her like the world was ending and she was the only thing worth saving.
Her hands slid up under the hem of his shirt, fingertips tracing along the lines of muscle she knew by heart but had never touched like this. Not until now. He groaned against her lips, deep and guttural, and it made her stomach twist with need.
They parted just long enough for her to look up at him—his eyes dark, intense, flickering with something fierce and unspoken.
She couldn’t think. She didn’t want to.
Not when he was looking at her like that . Not when his hands were on her like this and especially not when his mouth captured hers again with a growl that promised everything and asked for nothing but her.
Notes:
the classic “come over and kill it” trope *chefs kiss*😘👌🏻 I loved this chapter for numerous reasons but let’s talk about how Rosie and Katsuki are growing closer to one another 🤭
anway lemme know your thoughts and I’ll see you in the next one👍🏻
Chapter 140: You should walk away right now before I’ll have you crying in the next ten seconds
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The morning light bled through the blinds like a slow, golden leak—unwelcome, insistent, casting long shadows across the bedroom walls. Katsuki blinked, brow twitching as the sunlight kissed his bare shoulder and stirred him from sleep.
He’d thrown off the sheets sometime during the night. Now they were tangled at his feet like the remains of a battle lost to heat and dreams that didn’t belong to him. Dreams he didn’t ask for.
But they came anyway.
Rosie.
The way she looked when she laughed. The quiet tremble in her voice when she said his name like it meant something. Her warmth in his arms, the memory of her lips—plush, addictive, parted just enough to let him steal every breath.
“Goddammit…”
Katsuki rolled onto his back with a groan, one arm over his eyes, the other stretched across the cold side of the bed that—just last night—his thoughts had filled with her .
That stupid hoodie she always stole was still draped over the chair in the corner. He should’ve taken it back already. Washed it. Hidden it. Anything but leave it there like a ghost, watching him spiral.
His jaw clenched.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her again. That flushed look on her face when he kissed her breathless. The sound she made when his hands had been on her skin, her neck, her waist. The way she’d melted into him like she belonged there.
It was burned into him now, branded.
And now? She is all he thought about.
Her laugh echoed like static in his skull. Her perfume—whatever soft, sweet thing she wore—still clung to him. He dragged a hand through his hair and sat up with a sharp exhale, scowling at nothing.
He couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t . There were things to do. Workouts to finish. Patrol reports to file. Stalkers to identify.
The moment his feet hit the floor, he moved with purpose—stalking to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face like it could drown the heat in his veins.
She was a distraction. A storm behind his ribs. And the worst part? He liked it, craved her and ached for her.
He slammed the faucet off, gripping the sink.
No. Not now. Not today.
Katsuki tore through the rest of his morning routine with the ferocity of someone trying to outrun a ghost. He cleaned and swept. Reorganized the living room. Rechecked every pin and string on the stalker board for Rosie. His eyes lingered a beat too long on her photo—the candid one with her soft smile and wide eyes.
He shook his head, teeth gritting as he refocused.
Productivity. That’s what he needed. That’s what would fix this.
But hours later, chest still tight, teeth still clenched, and every breath still full of her name, Katsuki was forced to admit something quietly horrifying: Being productive wasn’t working, because no matter how much he moved, how much he tried to shake her loose—Rosie is under his skin and after last night, he was fucked, absolutely and completely fucked. She ruined him for anyone else, not like he planned on being with anyone else.
He was sweating by the time the sun hit its peak, every muscle in his arms and back flexing as he slammed through another round of pushups. The weight vest clung to his skin like regret—heavy, suffocating, but necessary.
One hundred and seventy-eight.
One hundred and seventy-nine.
One hundred and—
He cursed under his breath and rolled to his side, breath ragged, heart punching through his ribs like it was trying to escape.
Rosie.
Her name haunted the silence of his apartment, though he hadn’t spoken it aloud since he’d woken up. And yet, there it was—clinging to his bones, laced through every breath like perfume and fire.
“Fuck.” He sat up, resting his elbows on his knees, head bowed low as sweat dripped to the floor.
Last night had wrecked him. That kiss on the couch. Her breath hitching under his mouth. Her hands in his hair. The way her eyes had fluttered closed like she was finally— finally —trusting him with something fragile.
She didn’t remember.
None of it. Not their past. Not what they were. Not what they could have been and somehow, despite all of that—she still felt like home.
He pulled the vest off, tossing it aside, and stood.
Lady blinked up at him from her perch on the windowsill, tail swishing lazily like she knew exactly what was wrong with him. She jumped down and circled his legs, brushing up against his calf with a chirp.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, crouching to scratch behind her ears. “You’re the only girl in this house who doesn’t make me feel like I’m gonna explode.”
Lady purred.
He fed her next—scooped her dish, cleaned her water bowl, wiped the counter with military precision. Routine kept him steady, like walking a tightrope over obsession.
Then he showered. Steam fogged the mirror. Hot water scalded his skin. He braced himself against the wall with both hands, letting it cascade over his shoulders, head bowed beneath the stream.
All he saw was her. The curve of her smile. The softness in her eyes. Her lips pink and parted, breath caught in her throat like she hadn’t expected to want him that much.
He remembered what it felt like to be hers and now—he was just a stranger she kept trusting without knowing why.
Katsuki Bakugou, reduced to a whisper in a memory she didn’t have anymore.
The thought made his chest ache.
He stepped out, toweled off, and pulled on his sweats. Cooking was mechanical—eggs, grilled chicken, rice—but eating was harder. Because he kept seeing her curled up on her couch in one of his hoodies, the one with the hole in the sleeve she always slipped her thumb through. She liked his cooking. Raved about it, said it was better than any takeout place in the city.
He would’ve cooked for her every night if it meant seeing her light up like that.
He leaned back in his chair, staring out the window, plate untouched.
She’s under my skin.
Every hour without her felt too long. Every time she smiled at him without remembering what they were—it gutted him a little more.
It wasn’t just a crush. Not some passing infatuation. She had ruined him. Ruined him for anyone else and she didn’t even know it.
He clenched his jaw, fists tightening in his lap.
He hated her amnesia, hated that it took him from her. That it took them . He wasn’t sure what was worse—that she didn’t remember falling in love with him, or that he remembered every fucking second of it.
But gods, she was still Rosie. Still kind. Still stubborn. Still making his heart race like she’d always done, and he would wait, he would wait as long as it took.
Because even if she didn’t know it yet…She is his, but most importantly, he is hers always.
The club pulsed like a heartbeat.
Ignis Inferno —low lights, red velvet, and smoke curling through the air like secrets. The bass thudded in his ribs. Bodies moved in the dark. Music drifted like a spell and Katsuki stood in the back, half in shadow, jaw tight, hood up, arms folded across his chest like it would keep his heart from breaking through his ribs.
He was torturing himself. He knew it.
Rosie was already onstage.
She hadn’t seen him yet—never did when the lights hit her like that. Silhouetted in flame, hair catching the glow like fire spun into gold. A slit up her gown kissed the full length of her leg, her movements fluid, controlled, seductive in a way that wasn’t just for show.
She didn’t know what she did to him. She didn’t remember and he was standing there like a fucking idiot, letting the knife twist deeper.
Her glove slid down her arm, slow, teasing. Someone in the front row whistled. She smiled, flirted, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Not the way it used to when he was the only one who got to see her like this—soft, playful, in love.
God, she used to dance for him in the kitchen while they cooked.
His hands curled into fists in his hoodie pocket. "I’m in love with someone who doesn’t know I exist."
It echoed in his skull like a curse, like a fucking prophecy. It played in his head every time he watched her from afar—half-naked, stunning, confident—like she didn’t have a piece of his heart still buried in her hands.
She twirled, dipped, and blew a kiss to the crowd.
He flinched.
He should leave. Every instinct told him to. But he stayed, always stayed. Like some obsessed ghost haunting what is his.
Was he punishing himself? Maybe. He couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop thinking about how she used to touch him like he was the only one in the room. How her lips would brush his jaw, whispering his name like a secret. How she clung to him when no one was watching—not for show, but because she needed him.
She didn’t need him now, nor that she ever had.
Her song ended. Cheers erupted. She bowed, delicate and bright under the spotlight.
Maybe she’d never remember. Maybe this was all he’d get—stolen glimpses and secondhand memories. Maybe she’d fall in love with someone else under those red lights, in this world where he was just a shadow in the back of the room.
“Is there something I can get you?”
The voice barely scraped into his awareness. Feminine, smoky, a practiced cadence meant to be sultry.
Katsuki glanced to his right, eyes cool. A tan woman stood beside him in heels that were too tall, hair a deep crimson that had the unmistakable shine of dye under the warm lights. Her golden eyes blinked at him through thick lashes. She was tall, legs long, chest pushed up in a sparkly corset that did little to hide the fact that she was a dancer here too.
He didn’t care enough to try remembering her name.
“A drink,” he muttered, already turning his attention back to the stage. Back to Rosie —glowing under red light, curves and grace and something goddamn divine in motion.
The woman didn’t take the hint. “Anything specific?” she asked, voice still sweet, still trying.
He exhaled, jaw flexing. “Something strong.”
There was a pause. He felt her eyes dragging over his profile, probably sizing him up like some rich asshole who’d throw cash for a few seconds of attention. He stayed perfectly still.
Eventually, she left.
Good. He didn’t want her attention. Didn’t want anyone’s . Only hers. Only Rosie’s.
He kept his eyes trained on the stage.
She was between songs now, hidden in the back, but it didn’t matter—her scent still clung to the velvet air, sugary and soft, like cherry blossoms and something warm. And real . So fucking real .
She never had to try to be beautiful. Rosie just was .
And then the redhead returned. “Here you go,” she said, placing the drink on the table in front of him. The glass clinked lightly.
Whiskey neat. She must’ve guessed or she’d seen him before, probably had. He came here often enough to punish himself. “Thanks,” he muttered, barely sparing her a glance.
But she didn’t walk away.
She lingered. Her arm brushed his shoulder like it was an accident. She leaned in just enough for him to smell her perfume—artificial vanilla and something sharp. It stung. “You come here a lot,” she purred, her lips barely an inch from his ear. “But I never see you take anyone home.”
Katsuki blinked slowly. Took a long sip from his glass.
She tilted her head, lips curving into something practiced. “Maybe tonight’s different?”
And it was in that second, her face too close, breath too sweet, body too polished, that the irritation crawled in under his skin.
She wasn’t her .
She wasn’t Rosie.
Not his short, soft girl with skin like porcelain and cotton-candy pink hair always tied with a ribbon. Not those sky-blue eyes that crinkled when she laughed. Not those faint freckles that dotted her cheeks like stardust and always made him want to kiss each one.
This woman was manufactured . Too symmetrical, lips too plump, nose too narrow. Breasts too round, too high. He could tell—he knew . He’d been with enough women to know what was sculpted and what was natural. And Rosie is natural. Flawlessly, heartbreakingly natural.
The redhead giggled, probably mistaking his silence for brooding interest. She trailed a nail along his shoulder. “You look tense,” she whispered. “I could help with that…”
Disgust rose up in him like bile. His jaw clenched. His muscles coiled tight beneath his hoodie. Slowly, he turned his head and looked at her fully, cold and unimpressed. “You should walk away right now before I’ll have you crying in the next ten seconds,” he said, voice low and firm.
The flirty smile faltered.
He didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t need to. The fire in his eyes was enough.
She stepped back—chastened, but still not fully understanding.
He didn’t give a shit, because he wasn’t here for her. He wasn’t here for anyone but Rosie.
And the worst part? She didn’t even know. Didn’t remember the way he used to look at her like this—like she was the only girl in the room, in the whole goddamn world.
Notes:
this man is going to be the death of me😩👌🏻 god I love yearning men, please for the love of everything that is good, bring them back now
ahhh anyway, I hope you guys enjoy the chapter, lemme know your thoughts and I’ll see you in the next one🤭
oh! don’t forget to check out my other fics! if you are a Shigaraki girlie, I did just post one last night if you’re interested👌🏻
Chapter 141: Because your voice is the only thing keeping me from falling apart.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The bar glowed like something out of a dream.
Black, white, and gold wove together in a tapestry of understated elegance—black marble floors gleamed beneath sleek white furniture, their edges trimmed in gold accents. Tables were draped in crisp white linens, each centered with soft glowing orbs shaped like miniature stars that pulsed with gentle light. The ceiling stretched high overhead, where golden chandeliers shimmered like fireflies, casting delicate patterns across the polished surfaces below. Music played at a low, velvety volume—smooth jazz blending seamlessly with the cheerful hum of voices and laughter.
It was the last week of July, the final stretch of summer before college classes began again. Izuku had insisted on throwing a party to celebrate—a grand send-off to one of the most precious chapters of their lives. And he hadn’t done it halfway. The entire hotel bar had been rented out for the evening, and everyone had shown up, dressed to the nines.
Class 1-A was scattered across the venue, their usual chaos dialed down into something almost nostalgic. Shoto leaned against a pristine column, sipping a pale, icy drink, the silver detailing of his midnight-blue suit catching the light like frost. His hair, for once, was styled neatly, and though his expression was calm, his gaze flicked from person to person like he was cataloging their joy.
Katsuki stood nearby, not far from the drinks table, clad in a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a matching vest hugging his frame. He looked vaguely irritated—as he always did—but the sharp edges of his scowl had dulled. His red eyes weren’t glaring; they were watching, listening and protecting.
Even Mineta had cleaned up, his tux surprisingly wrinkle-free and—mercifully—his behavior in check for once, occupied with chatting nervously with Denki and Sero over mocktails.
Pro Heroes mingled comfortably throughout the space. Aizawa, still in his signature black but with the addition of a proper jacket, leaned against the bar sipping whiskey, conversing with Present Mic, who wore bright yellow sunglasses and an electric-blue suit only he could pull off. Gran Torino was chuckling beside All Might, whose laughter boomed over the music and whose eyes never stopped sparkling. Hawks was half-reclined at a nearby table, flirtatiously teasing the cocktail waitress bringing him his third drink, his crimson wings tucked in tight but twitching with amusement. Endeavor, stoic as ever in a dark red blazer, stood near the back with arms crossed, scanning the room like he was on patrol rather than at a party.
And at the heart of it all stood Ochaco Uraraka.
She glowed, absolutely radiant in a flowing cream and gold dress that shimmered every time she moved. Her hair was curled into soft, bouncing waves that framed her face, and her cheeks were pink with laughter as she joked with Mina. Her eyes sparkled, especially when they flicked toward the other side of the room—to him.
Izuku stood just behind a wide decorative column with Shoto and Katsuki flanking him like bodyguards, both watching him like they expected him to bolt.
“Okay,” Izuku whispered, tugging at his collar and shifting from foot to foot. “Okay, I—maybe I should wait a little longer. Or maybe not do it here. Maybe I should do it somewhere quieter. Less people. Yeah?”
“No.” Katsuki deadpanned, arms crossed. “You’re doing it now. Stop being a coward.”
Shoto sipped his drink with a quiet nod. “You’ve already asked all of us to be here. Everyone’s waiting for your big announcement.”
Izuku gave a strangled laugh and reached into his jacket, pulling out the velvet ring box and cracking it open just enough to show the glint of gold and white diamond nestled inside. “I amsweating. I am literally sweating through my shirt.”
“Good.” Katsuki punched him lightly in the shoulder, just enough to shake him. “Use it. That nervous energy? That’s love or whatever. Just get your ass up there and do it.”
Shoto added with a faint smile, “She’s going to say yes. You know that.”
Izuku’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, heart hammering in his chest. “You guys really think so?”
“We know so,” Katsuki muttered.
Izuku inhaled, then exhaled sharply, his hand closing around the ring box. He straightened his jacket, squared his shoulders, and nodded once.
“Okay. Okay. Let’s do this.”
And with that, he stepped out from behind the pillar, the faint clinking of glasses and hum of conversation falling away as he headed toward the center of the bar—toward her. Then the music dimmed, a soft ding of a spoon against glass echoed and the room grew quiet.
Izuku stood atop a small riser near the center of the bar, his green suit fitted perfectly to his frame, a soft gold tie tucked neatly beneath his collar. His cheeks were red, but his eyes glimmered like stars. “Hey, everyone,” he said nervously, clearing his throat. “Um… thank you so much for coming tonight. This summer’s been… well, a lot. But it also reminded me how important every single one of you are. Class 1-A, you’re more than classmates—you’re my family. You were there for me when I was weak, when I was scared, and when I thought I couldn’t keep going. Everyone here has gone through so much of it together, we’ve grown together, and we have learned together.” His voice cracked slightly, but he pushed on. “And the pro heroes here—thank you for always showing us what it means to fight for others. To teach, to lead, and to stand when it’s hard. I wouldn’t be here without you.”
There were quiet murmurs of appreciation, a few proud nods from the veterans, and one very loud “HELL YEAH!” from Mic.
Izuku laughed again—nervous, breathless. His hands shook at his sides, the glass of cider in his grip forgotten.
Then he turned, eyes soft and shining as they swept the crowd. “But the person who’s changed my life the most…” His voice cracked slightly, but he powered through. “Is her.”
A hush fell over the room. Heads turned as Izuku stepped off the raised platform where he’d been making his toast, his dress shoes clicking faintly against the marble floor. The crowd instinctively parted for him, a gentle path opening up as he walked toward the bar where Ochako stood.
She blinked in surprise, her champagne flute halfway to her lips, frozen in place as her eyes locked onto his. “Izu…?” she whispered, barely audible over the soft jazz still playing in the background.
Izuku stopped just in front of her, eyes wide, glassy with emotion. “Ochako,” he began, his voice trembling—and then breaking completely. “I—I’ve loved you… for so long.” His bottom lip wobbled, and his breath hitched. “You were the first person who ever—ever made me feel like it was okay to be strong and kind. Like I didn’t have to choose. Like I could be a hero andstill be myself.” He sniffled loudly, his hand shaking as he wiped under one eye. “You believed in me when I didn’t even believe in myself—and you made me feel like—like I was enough. Just as I was.”
Ochako’s lips trembled, her hands flying to her mouth as her eyes welled with tears.
“I’m sorry, I’m crying so much,” Izuku half-laughed, half-sobbed, rubbing his face with the back of one hand as the other fumbled inside his jacket. “I—sorry—just give me a second—ah, damn it—my nose is running—”
A few people in the crowd laughed softly with affection, and Katsuki muttered something under his breath like you damn crybaby , but no one moved. No one interrupted.
Izuku finally dropped to one knee, and a collective gasp swept the room, followed by the clinking of glasses and the quiet murmur of disbelief and joy. He held up the small velvet box, his hand shaking so badly he almost dropped it.
Inside, nestled in deep blue velvet, was a simple, elegant gold band, its centerpiece a clear diamond with two delicate pink tourmalines set like twin hearts on either side. It gleamed beneath the chandelier light like something from a dream.
“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Izuku whispered, tears now flowing freely down his cheeks. “Laughing, growing, arguing about what snacks to buy for movie nights. Fighting side by side. Protecting people. Becoming better heroes. I want to grow old with you, Ochako. I want you in every part of my life always.” His voice cracked again. “So…” he sniffed hard, wiping his sleeve across his face in the most undignified but honest gesture imaginable. “Will you marry me?”
Uraraka gasped, her hands pressed against her mouth, her eyes wide and shimmering. And then, without hesitation, she nodded—quick, fierce, her voice breaking with joy. “Yes!” she cried. “Yes, Izuku! Of course I will!”
A cheer went up around them, loud and joyful, but Izuku didn’t even hear it. He just burst into even more tears. “S-she said yes—” he sobbed, clutching the ring box like it was a lifeline. “Oh my god—she— she said yes! ”
Uraraka laughed through her own tears as she knelt down in front of him, taking his face in both hands and beaming through her blush. “Of course I said yes, you crybaby.”
Izuku laughed, sniffled, wiped his nose again, and then finally slid the ring onto her trembling finger. Their eyes locked, and then, slowly, they leaned in and kissed. The room erupted into cheers, applause, laughter—and even a few misty-eyed whistles from the pro heroes. Uraraka pulled him up and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply as the crowd roared in celebration.
Shoto raised a toast.
Katsuki muttered, “Finally,” and took a swig of his drink.
And Aizawa… smiled.
Rosie stood near the edge of the crowd, champagne flute clutched tightly in her hand, the soft golden bubbles rising with each quiet breath she took. Her vision shimmered, but not from the drink. It was from the tears building in her eyes.
Izuku and Uraraka were still holding each other, grinning like kids as the applause washed over them again. She could see the way Uraraka's eyes never left his, how Izuku looked at her like she was the sun itself. So happy. So in love.
Rosie brought her knuckles to her mouth to steady herself, her throat tight. She was happy for them. Truly. And the fact that she remembered them— truly remembered them—made all the difference.
Lovely, they were now engaged.
Wiping at her eyes with a soft laugh, Rosie took a breath and wove her way through the crowd, gently tapping Uraraka’s shoulder once the storm of congratulations had calmed. “Hey,” she said softly, offering a watery smile. “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you both.”
Uraraka turned with a gasp and hugged her immediately. “Rosie!”
Izuku joined them, arms wrapping around both girls as he beamed. “It means so much that you’re here.”
Rosie chuckled, a little overwhelmed but sincere. “I’m really glad I remember you both… otherwise I don’t think I’d understand just how happy I am for you.”
Uraraka sniffled. “That means a lot.”
“You deserve this,” Rosie added, gently stepping back so others could approach. “You really do.”
She gave them one last smile before turning toward the bar, the echo of happy chatter following her. She slid into a bar stool and set down her glass, nodding to the bartender for a refill. As the bubbles poured back into her flute, someone leaned beside her, warm and laid-back.
“Didn’t expect you to sneak off from all the excitement,” Hawks said, his amber eyes lazy but alert beneath his tousled blond hair. He looked striking in a deep burgundy suit, gold cufflinks catching the light.
Rosie blinked, surprised. “Hey, Hawks. I—yeah, just wanted for everyone else to congratulate them.”
He raised his glass to her lightly. “How’re you holding up?”
“I’m okay,” she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. “Still piecing things together… but okay.”
“Glad to hear it,” he said sincerely. Then, after a beat: “Do you remember me?”
Rosie frowned slightly, lips curving in apology. “No. Sorry…”
He waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. We weren’t close or anything. I just helped get you out when things went bad. Wasn’t exactly the best moment to make a good impression.”
Her eyes softened. “Still… thank you. For helping me.”
He smiled. “Any time.” There was a small pause before Hawks leaned against the bar more comfortably. “Wanna hear how I almost blew a hole through a department store during undercover work?”
Rosie blinked. “Wait, what ?”
And with a grin, Hawks launched into one of his chaotic work stories. Rosie laughed, really laughed, for the first time that night. He kept the jokes coming, one after another, and she found herself easing into the conversation, the ache in her chest dulled by warmth and laughter.
Filling that ache in her chest that she was forgetting something important.
The music had picked up again, soft jazz shifting into something with a celebratory tempo. Guests were buzzing with energy now, toasting and laughing and wiping their eyes after the beautiful, tear-filled proposal. Hawks had gone after some pretty cocktail waitress leaving her alone at the bar.H er fresh drink cradled between both hands, eyes still shining from what she’d just witnessed. The warmth in her chest hadn’t faded—if anything, it had only grown. Seeing Izuku and Uraraka so full of love… it stirred something tender and wistful inside her.
Footsteps and familiar laughter drew her attention just before four familiar figures joined her. Mina, radiant in a sparkly lilac cocktail dress, came bouncing up to the bar first, followed by Kirishima, looking sharp in a maroon suit with no tie. Denki and Shoto brought up the rear—Denki grinning ear to ear in a gold-trimmed black jacket, and Shoto sipping his drink, his tie slightly loosened but every bit as composed as ever.
“I can’t believe he actually did it!” Mina gushed, practically vibrating with energy.
“Hard to understand him when he’s crying so much,” Denki laughed, pointing a thumb toward where Izuku was still wiping his eyes and holding Uraraka’s hand like she was made of light. “I thought he was gonna need CPR halfway through that speech.”
“He was crying so much,” Kirishima added, eyes bright. “It was awesome. Like, manly crying, y’know?”
Shoto gave a small nod. “It was heartfelt. Very... Midoriya.”
Rosie chuckled softly, looking between the group. “So… is this going to set off a chain reaction?” she asked, tilting her head slyly. “Who’s next? Mina and Kirishima? Denki and Jirou?”
Mina’s eyes went wide and sparkly. “Me?! Ohhh, don’t tempt me. This whole night’s giving me major wedding fever.” She turned dramatically to Kirishima. “Well, Eijiro, any thoughts?”
Kirishima turned a little red but grinned sheepishly. “Hey, I mean… we’re still in college. But who knows?” He looked at Mina with obvious affection. “If things keep going the way they are, maybe someday.”
“Oooooh,” Denki sang, leaning against the bar with a smug little grin. “You guys are totally next. I’m calling it now.”
Shoto, still watching the couple across the room, sipped his drink and murmured, “I wonder if we’ll all be married before we’re twenty-five. It’s strange… thinking that way. We’ve barely finished being kids.”
Rosie smiled at that, her heart warm again. “I think… after that’s happened, it’s not so strange to want to hold on to something good. Something that makes you feel like you’re home.”
The others went quiet for a beat, the mood turning gentle.
Then Mina bumped Rosie’s shoulder with a wink. “Well, what about you? Any mystery romance hiding behind those pretty eyes?”
Rosie laughed, holding her drink to her lips. “No mystery. I’ve never even had a boyfriend so I’d be the last one to get engaged.”
Kirishima and Shoto exchanged looks with one another, staying silent, before Shoto glanced her way, and something unreadable flickered in his expression—but he said nothing.
Clearing his throat, Kirishima chuckled and raised his glass. “To love, and to all of us finding it in our own time.”
“Cheers!” the group echoed, clinking their glasses together as laughter and light sparkled around them.
He should be happy for the nerd and Pink Cheeks. Really, he should.
Deku finally proposed—everyone was buzzing about it. Uraraka had been floating on air more than usual, already glowing as she had her engagement ring on her finger. It was sweet. It was earned. It was the kind of fairytale ending everyone seemed to root for and want for themselves.
But Katsuki Bakugou wasn’t thinking about them.
Not really.
Because she was here.
The source of his torment. His distraction. His fucking downfall in pastel pink.
Rosie.
His pretty girl, his aching weakness, the one person who had made it impossible for him to look at another woman without coming up short.
She was standing across the room, radiant in a soft pink dress that hugged her waist and flowed around her legs like cherry blossom petals. Heels on her feet—silver ones—making her legs look longer, her posture poised. She was glowing under the dim romantic lighting, eyes blue and smile easy as she spoke with Shoji, Maerya, Tokoyami, and Iida.
Too pretty. Too sweet. And too fucking far away.
Katsuki gripped his drink tighter, the lowball glass straining beneath the tension of his hold, and clenched his jaw as he watched her laugh—her hand brushing her collarbone, her head tilting back, curls bouncing with every shake of her shoulders.
She looked like she belonged here. Like she was happy .
And it drove him absolutely insane.
His gaze tracked every movement she made like he was wired to her orbit. How she tucked her hair behind her ear. How she leaned into Maerya to whisper something and laughed softly against the rim of her glass. How her dress shifted with every turn, revealing the curve of her hip or the pale length of her thigh.
He wanted to bite her. Sink his damn teeth into her like a starved man—mark her, ruin her lipstick, drag her back to him where she belonged.
Every second he stood here staring at her made it harder to breathe.
A sudden clap on his shoulder jolted him. “You’re about to break that glass,” Kirishima said, his voice low and amused, though there was something careful in his tone as he nodded toward Katsuki’s hand.
Shoto slid in on the other side with a quiet hum, arms crossed. “The hotel will definitely bill you. I wouldn’t test the structural integrity.”
Katsuki snorted, loosening his grip but not looking away. “Like I give a damn.”
Because what he really cared about was twenty feet away, wrapped in blush silk and smiling at someone else . Smiling in a way he hadn’t seen in months—not directed at him, at least.
It was torture.
And the worst part?
He came here knowing it would be. He’d seen her name on the guest list and even if he hadn’t, he knew she would be here because she was friends with every single person here. He could’ve stayed away.
But he didn’t because he was a masochist, because she owned every part of him. Body, heart and his soul.
Tonight, she looked like his sweetest sin, wearing his color, in his dreams, laughing like she hadn’t once sobbed in his arms.
He looked down at the glass in his hand. Ice half-melted, whiskey untouched. His palm was sweating from how hard he was gripping it. Then—against his better judgment—he looked back up.
And just like that, her head turned.
Her blue eyes scanned the room, sparkling beneath the rooftop bar’s golden lights. They flicked in his direction—caught his—and lingered . Barely a second. But it was enough. Enough to short-circuit every thought in his damn head.
His breath caught.
She looked away just as fast, smiling again at something Shoji was saying, but it didn’t matter. He’d already felt it. That invisible wire still tethered between them. Tugging. Twisting. Burning.
Kirishima let out a low whistle, stepping closer, hands in his pockets as he followed Katsuki’s line of sight. “She’s a knockout, man.”
Katsuki growled, dragging his eyes away with effort. He turned toward his friend, jaw tight. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Shoto took a sip from his glass, hiding his smirk behind the rim. “Perhaps…” he mused, eyes dancing with amusement, “you could always ask her to dance.”
Katsuki shot him a dry glare, but Shoto wasn’t wrong. The rooftop had shifted from mingling to movement—music playing low and sultry from a set of speakers near the open bar. Izuku and Uraraka were already swaying together in the center, pressed close and grinning like idiots. Mic had somehow convinced Midnight to dance, their steps surprisingly elegant. Jirou was laughing as Denki tried to keep rhythm with her, and even Iida, stiff as ever, was awkwardly spinning Mei around with all the grace of a malfunctioning Roomba.
Shoto gestured vaguely toward the dancing crowd. “If they can do it, so can you.”
Katsuki snorted. “With Aizawa standing ten feet away, watching everything like a damn hawk? Yeah. Fuck no.”
Shoto merely raised an eyebrow. Then— very deliberately—he downed the rest of his drink, slow and smooth, setting the empty glass onto the nearest high table with a soft clink . His eyes never left Katsuki’s, before he turned on his heel.
“Oi—what’re you doing—?”
Too late.
Katsuki watched as Shoto crossed the rooftop like he had no idea what kind of powder keg he was casually kicking open. Rosie was laughing at something Maerya whispered to her when Shoto approached, his posture elegant and confident. Katsuki couldn’t hear what he said—but he saw the moment she blinked, surprised. Her smile softened before she reached out—placed her hand in his.
Katsuki’s chest caved inward.
She let him lead her out onto the dance floor.
The gentle sound of low-tempo jazz filtered through the rooftop, warm and golden under the string lights. Shoto took her waist with one hand, her other still held in his. His steps were smooth, patient. He didn’t try to press too close. But he was close. Close enough to make Katsuki’s skin crawl.
Shoji gave Maerya a playful nudge, and the two followed them, joining the growing crowd of couples moving in slow circles beneath the stars.
Katsuki stood there frozen.
His jaw ached from how hard he was clenching it. He didn’t even realize how tight his fists were until the glass in his hand cracked under the pressure—liquor spilling out and running down his knuckles. “Shit,” he muttered, setting it down before he shattered it entirely.
Rosie was still smiling. Her laughter drifted across the rooftop as Shoto spun her lightly, a little surprised flick of her hair catching the wind.
Katsuki couldn’t tear his eyes away.
She was soft. Blush-colored. Beautiful and dancing with someone else.
It was torture and he only had himself to blame.
Kirishima sighed as he rejoined Katsuki by the bar, brushing some wind-blown hair out of his face and shaking his head.
“Man, I deserve a damn medal for this,” he muttered, grabbing a water bottle from the tray behind the bar.
Katsuki didn’t answer. He was too busy glaring at the dance floor like it had personally offended him.
Because for the past hour , he’d watched Rosie spin in the arms of every guy there—with the exception of Mineta, Aoyama, and Ojiro (thank fuck ). Tokoyami had danced with her, respectful and distant. Denki had spun her so fast she nearly tripped into Sero. Even Iida, with his stiff movements and wide eyes, had danced with her, offering the kind of reverent praise that made Katsuki grind his teeth. And through it all, she laughed and smiled, her soft pink dress fluttering as she moved, her blue eyes glowing like twin moons.
Katsuki had burned silently, drink after drink in hand, never touching a single one.
Now, Kirishima stepped in front of him, his voice firm. “Now’s your chance.”
Katsuki looked up, eyes narrowed. “The hell are you talking about?”
“I got everyone to dance with her,” Kirishima said, lips curled into a proud smirk. “Even dragged Iida in. Iida , man. I made it so no one would blink an eye if you asked her next. You won’t look suspicious. Just another guy asking her for a turn.”
Katsuki blinked, caught off guard. “You—?”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he added quickly, then turned, nodding to someone behind Katsuki.
Before he could react, two hands shoved him forward . One belonged to Kirishima. The other—Shoto, who looked completely unrepentant as he murmured, “Go. Before you explode.”
Katsuki stumbled a step, snarling under his breath, “You bastards—”
“Shut up and go dance,” Kirishima grinned, clapping him on the back.
The music shifted—something soft and slow, like it was made for stolen moments—and Katsuki exhaled a sharp breath as he made his way across the rooftop.
Rosie stood near the edge of the dance floor now, holding a drink and laughing softly with Mina and Mei. Her pink hair was catching the low golden light, casting a warm halo around her. She turned as he approached, sensing his presence more than seeing him.
Her smile faltered. Then returned, softer and oh so painfully familiar.Her lashes swept up as she tilted her head, eyes catching his.
He stopped in front of her.“…Dance with me?” he asked, voice low and gruff.
She stared up at him through her lashes for a long heartbeat, and then—she smiled. Just like she used to. “I never thought you’d ask.”
It undid him. That voice. That smile. He reached out, fingers grazing hers, and led her onto the floor. They fell into step effortlessly, his hand at her waist, her palm resting lightly in his. She moved closer without hesitation, fitting against him like she was made for it. Like she remembered, even if she didn’t say it.
Katsuki looked down at her—and nearly choked on every goddamn emotion swelling up inside of him. Love, affection, adoration and devotion. It burned like fire in his throat, overwhelming and raw.
She was talking, her voice light as air, sweet as sugar. “This party’s beautiful, huh? Everyone looks so nice. I never thought I’d see my Dad in anything other than black.”
He didn’t answer. Couldn’t.
She tilted her head again, blue eyes glittering. “You okay?”
He nodded once. “Yeah.”
Because she was babbling —about the lights, the food, the music, how cute Jirou looked dancing with Denki—and he was helpless to do anything but stare at her.
His short, soft, pretty girl. With pink hair and blue eyes and a mouth that moved a mile a minute when she was nervous or excited. And she was always talking about everything and about nothing and he’d never get tired of listening. Never.
She laughed at something she’d said, clearly unaware of the war going on in his chest, the way he had to fight to keep from dropping his forehead to hers and blurting out every word that was biting at the back of his tongue: I love you. I love you. I love you.
He held her tighter instead. Because for now—this was enough. She was in his arms and for the first time in too long… he felt at home.
Rosie swayed with him, her voice soft and unbothered as if she didn’t realize just how close she was to bringing him to his knees.
“I think I saw Momo sneak off with Shoto. Did you see that? I mean, I’m not saying anything but—okay, I am , I totally am. She seems to really like him, don’t you think?” She giggled, tucking her chin briefly, and then glanced up at him with that soft little smile again. “It’s sweet though. Makes you feel like maybe love always finds a way, you know?”
Katsuki could only grunt in reply, jaw tight.
She kept talking—about Mei’s shoes, Mina’s dress, how Iida nearly tripped over Denki during the last song—and Katsuki nodded like he was listening. But he wasn’t, not really.
He couldn’t. Why? Because the only thing he could focus on was her . The way her hand felt in his. How soft her waist was under his palm. How she fit against him like she belonged there.
Her eyes were so bright. Her skin glowed in the golden rooftop lights. Her lips—pink, glossy, and parted ever so slightly as she kept speaking—were begging to be kissed.
And he almost did. Right there. In the middle of the damn dance floor. In front of all their friends, in front of her father , who he could feel staring him down from across the bar like a sniper lining up a shot.
Katsuki let out a low breath, glancing away just long enough to catch the steely gaze of Aizawa from the corner of the room. Great. Still, it wasn’t Aizawa’s scrutiny that stopped him. It was the goddamn weight in his chest.
How… he thought, staring back down at her as she babbled on, completely at ease in his arms, unaware of the storm she was stirring in his ribcage. How could someone like her ever want someone like me?
Rosie—his sweet, radiant girl with sunshine in her smile and moonlight in her eyes—looked up at him like he was the only one in the world who mattered. Like she hadn’t a clue how easily she could shatter him if she ever realized how much power she held in that little heart of hers.
He swallowed thickly.
How had this happened? How had he gotten her?
She was everything he wasn’t. Kind. Gentle. Forgiving. Soft in the way flowers are soft—vibrant, natural and full of life. She walked into a room and made people smile just by existing.
And him? He was rough edges, sharp corners and too much heat in too small a frame. What the fuck did she ever see in me?
He thought about all the times she’d sat in front of him in class, smiling even when he didn’t speak. How she’d show up with extra coffee “because she knew he hated mornings.” How she’d drag him outside just to sit in the sun because “he looked like he needed it.” All the dumb, small things. The little bits of her she kept giving him— before they ever dated.
In just one month. One fucking month. That’s all it took for her to fall for him. To give her heart away like it was nothing. Like he was worth that kind of love.
He never asked her why.
Why she liked him. Why she wanted to be his girlfriend. Why she was drawn to the worst parts of him and saw something worth keeping.
Now, staring down at her, watching her lips move, her smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, her eyes crinkling in that way that always made his chest ache.
He regretted it. He should’ve asked. Maybe if he had, he wouldn’t feel so fucking wrecked now, holding her and wondering how long it’s take for her to remember him.
“…Katsuki?” Her voice broke through his spiral.
He blinked.
“Are you okay?” she asked gently, eyes wide and concerned. “You’re looking at me like I grew a second head.”
He exhaled slowly, jaw tightening again as he stared down at her, searching her face.
“You’re just…” He hesitated. “…really pretty when you talk too much.”
Her cheeks flushed, lips parting in surprise before she laughed, bright and airy, just like he remembered. “Is that your way of saying I should shut up?”
“No,” he muttered, gaze dropping to her mouth again. “Don’t ever stop.”
Because your voice is the only thing keeping me from falling apart.
He didn’t say that part aloud. But he thought it— felt it—as he pulled her just a little closer, pressing his forehead briefly to hers, hoping she wouldn’t notice the way his fingers trembled ever so slightly where they rested against her back.
Notes:
hope you guys loved this chapter especially after yesterday’s chapter 🤭
anyway hope you have a great day, as always lemme know your thoughts and I’ll see you in the next one💖
Chapter 142: Pavlov should’ve used her instead of dogs
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
August rolled in with cooler breezes and a steady rhythm of rain every other day. The air smelled faintly of wet pavement and the crisp promise of autumn. Rosie didn’t mind it—if anything, she welcomed it. There was something comforting about curling up in thick sweaters, hearing the rainfall outside her window, and watching the world slowly shift colors.
She found herself eagerly rotating her closet—stuffing away the breezy sundresses and sleeveless tops she had worn over the summer and pulling forward her warmer layers, boots, and thick scarves. It felt like a fresh start. And with the change in season came the inevitable return of classes.
Her memory was still an aching blank, a soft, hollow part of her that she had stopped trying to prod at every morning. Her father had gently suggested that she take it easy for the year—stick to courses that wouldn’t drown her in stress or pressure while she continued to recover. And she agreed.
After everything that had happened—after waking up in a hospital bed and pushing herself through the tail end of the previous semester with gritted teeth and pure willpower—she’d realized she needed room to breathe . Room to figure out who she was now, in this new version of her life.
So she’d enrolled in creative writing, film history, world history, and psychology. All general electives and all things she found herself quietly curious about.
She didn’t know what she wanted to do with her future anymore. Every time the idea of hero work crept into her mind, it was accompanied by an icy chill—a phantom dread that maybe, just maybe, another Kyoma could be lurking in the dark, waiting.
She hadn’t voiced that fear out loud. Not to her dad. Not to Akira. Not even to herself.
But she listened when her father had gently said, “You don’t need to prove anything to anyone, Rosie. Least of all to yourself. Just give it time.”
And so she was trying. Trying to rediscover herself, her rhythms, her friendships and her passions.
Which was how she found herself in the campus library late one rainy Thursday afternoon, tucked into a corner study table with Maerya and Akira, a half-finished iced coffee at her elbow and psychology notes spread out in front of her.
“I’m going to fail,” Akira moaned, letting her forehead fall dramatically onto the table. “I’m gonna flunk out, join a traveling circus, and be known as the dropout with the fabulous hair and no future.”
Rosie snorted into her highlighter. “That’s oddly specific.”
“Because it’s real!” Akira groaned again, dragging her fingers through her bangs. “I blacked out during the last lecture. I legit don’t remember anything between Pavlov’s dogs and—like—Freud doing something weird again.”
“Maybe because you fell asleep during the entire second half of the lecture,” Maerya deadpanned without even looking up from her tablet.
“I was tired!” Akira shot back, sitting up and clutching her chest. “Excuse me for being a chronically exhausted, overachieving, under-hydrated student of the modern age!”
“You’re an idiot,” Maerya muttered, flicking her pen at her.
Akira caught it midair. “I prefer the term emotionally sensitive academic underdog , thank you.”
Rosie smiled, the corner of her mouth tugging up as she looked between the two of them. Their banter was comforting—something easy and familiar in the middle of a life that still felt like a puzzle missing key pieces.
Still smiling, she leaned forward on her elbows and gestured to Akira’s messy notes. “Okay, if you’re really serious about not failing, we can review together. You’re good at remembering the examples—they just need to be less chaotic.”
“Examples are life, ” Akira declared, already spinning her pen like a sword. “Alright, hit me with something. A term, theory, anything.”
Maerya muttered under her breath, “Pavlov should’ve used her instead of dogs.”
Akira gave her a look. “Joke’s on you—I’d still salivate at the sound of snack bags.”
Rosie giggled, shaking her head as she flipped through her flashcards.
Outside the tall library windows, the rain continued to fall softly, coating the campus in gray light. But inside, surrounded by friends and laughter, Rosie felt a little warmer. A little more herself. Like maybe this slow, quiet path her life had taken was exactly where she needed to be—for now.
It wasn’t until they were walking out of the library, the crisp scent of rain clinging to the evening air, that everything shifted. Rosie had been laughing. They’d been talking about where to go for dinner—Maerya was insisting on ramen, Akira was campaigning for Korean barbecue, and Rosie had been caught somewhere in the middle, her cheeks pink from the cold and from laughing too hard at Akira’s impression of their psychology professor.
Then she turned a corner—and walked straight into him. Her body collided with something solid. She stumbled back a step, blinking—and her gaze landed on Hiroshi.
Time stopped.
It hit her all at once. A sick, rolling wave of memory and fear. His face. His voice. The scent of whatever cologne he wore. The way the world had spun and darkened after she’d taken that drink at the party. The way her legs had stopped working. The way she remembered falling.
Her stomach dropped, skin turned to ice as her breath caught, then skipped entirely.
She stood there, frozen, as Hiroshi looked down at her in mild surprise, as if he hadn’t expected to see her either. “Oh—hey,” he said casually, like nothing had happened. “Didn’t see you there—”
Rosie’s lips parted, but no sound came out. Her heart slammed against her ribs. Her lungs refused to cooperate. She couldn’t blink. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
“Rosie?” Akira’s voice was immediate, sharp with alarm. “Rosie, what’s wrong—?”
Maerya’s head snapped up from her phone, her smile vanishing as her eyes darted to Hiroshi and then back to Rosie—who had gone completely still, her expression wide-eyed and stricken.
Her hands trembled. Her chest was beginning to rise and fall too fast.
“She’s hyperventilating,” Maerya said at once, stepping forward.
“Back off , Hiroshi,” Akira snapped, moving to Rosie’s other side and placing a hand on her shoulder protectively. “You need to get away from her. Now.”
Hiroshi’s eyes narrowed. “What’s your problem?”
“You are the problem,” Maerya growled, her voice going low and deadly. “You drugged her, you disgusting bastard. Don’t act like we don’t know.”
“What—? That’s not—” Hiroshi took a step forward, but both girls blocked him instantly.
“Don’t come any closer,” Akira hissed. “We’re not your friends. She doesn’t want to see you. You lost that right the second you slipped something into her drink.”
Hiroshi’s expression twisted—defensive—but he didn’t argue. He just stood there for a moment, looking at Rosie’s unmoving, broken expression—then turned and walked off down the hall without another word.
As soon as he was gone, Maerya wrapped an arm around Rosie’s shoulders, whispering softly, “It’s okay, he’s gone. You’re safe now. We’ve got you.”
Rosie still hadn’t blinked. Her eyes were glassy, her lips parted, breath shallow and shaky. Her entire frame was trembling.
“Rosie, babe, can you hear me?” Akira crouched in front of her, hands gentle. “It’s over, he’s gone. We’re gonna take you home, okay? Just nod if you hear me.”
But Rosie said nothing. She was locked inside herself, her body stiff with terror, her mind stuck in a loop of remembered darkness and helplessness.
Akira and Maerya didn’t ask again. They each took one of her arms and led her gently down the hallway, out of the building and into the cool night, shielding her from the eyes of strangers and holding her like she was something fragile and precious.
Because she was and neither of them would let anyone— especially not Hiroshi—ever hurt her again.
She sat curled up on the cushioned lounge chair out on her small balcony, her knees tucked beneath his old hoodie that she had never quite returned. The sleeves swallowed her hands as she cradled a warm mug of hot chocolate, the steam fogging up the lower half of her glasses every time she leaned in for a sip.
Rain pattered gently against the railing and rooftops, the kind of soft, misting drizzle that blurred the city lights and made the world feel quieter, smaller—like it had folded in on itself just enough to give her space to breathe. The showers had started a little after sunset, but she hadn’t moved inside. The cool air felt good.
Her mind hadn’t stayed focused for long on her book. Somewhere between chapter ten and eleven, her thoughts had wandered—slipping back to him , to Katsuki and to that night.
The surprise engagement party for Izuku and Uraraka had been beautiful—glowing lanterns, golden flowers, and music soft enough to make your heart ache. She remembered the warmth of the lights, the joy in Ochako’s eyes, and how everyone had clapped and cheered when Izuku had knelt down with shaking hands and a ring he’d clearly agonized over picking.
But what lingered in her mind wasn’t the proposal.
It was the dance.
Their dance.
Katsuki had asked her to dance with that same familiar growl in his voice, like it pained him to speak gently but he’d do it anyway— for her. And the moment she’d placed her hand in his, she felt her nerves coil tight beneath her skin. She remembered her heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings as he pulled her close, one large hand resting respectfully at her back, the other holding her hand just firmly enough to keep her grounded.
She’d talked too much. She knew she had.
Babbling about how pretty the lights were, how nice everyone looked, how good the cake smelled, how funny it was that Denki had cried three different times already. Every single thought that popped into her head had tumbled out of her mouth, nervous chatter spilling into the space between them as they moved to the music.
And he’d said nothing.
Not a word.
Just stared at her with those unreadable, deep crimson eyes—his face set in that same sharp, unmoved expression that always made her stomach twist with uncertainty. She had tried to find warmth in his gaze, tried to read him, but there was nothing. No smile, no furrow, not even a blink that might've hinted at what he was thinking. He was still , like a statue carved out of something ancient and furious.
Had she annoyed him? Had she talked too much? God, had she ruined it?
She pulled the hoodie tighter around herself, nose brushing the rim of the mug before she took another sip, more for the heat than the taste.
A part of her wanted to call him. Just to hear his voice. Just to say something— anything —to break the silence that had stretched between them ever since that night.
But she didn’t.
Because what if he didn’t answer? What if he did, and she said the wrong thing again?
So instead, she stayed out in the rain, her blanket draped across her lap, the hoodie warm around her shoulders, and her heart aching with all the words she hadn’t said. All the ones she wished she could ask him.
Why did you stare at me like that? Were you angry? Did I mess it up? Do you miss me? Why did I ache with needing you to kiss me?
She whispered none of them. She just sat there, letting the rain fall quietly around her, holding onto the memory of that dance like it was the last thing keeping her tethered to something real.
Standing under the soft lights of her dressing room, Rosie exhaled slowly and tilted her chin up, spraying a fine mist of shimmer across her collarbones and shoulders. The glitter clung to her skin like stardust, catching in the low glow of the vanity bulbs. Her reflection stared back at her—tired, pale, and trying to fake a sparkle that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
The door creaked open behind her. “Hey, why so down?” came the familiar voice of Varsas, light and lilting with a gentle concern.
Rosie turned, forcing a faint smile. Varsas looked stunning in her deep blue and gold ensemble—her long legs glistening, her hair pinned into elegant waves that framed her warm, expressive face. She always had this effortless glow, as though she belonged on stage and under the spotlight.
“Uh, just tired already,” Rosie replied, the lie sliding off her tongue with disturbing ease. She’d said it so many times now, it felt like second nature. As if admitting anything else would break the fragile balance she was trying to hold onto.
Varsas gave a small nod, clearly unconvinced but unwilling to pry. “You could always call out, you know. Go home, sleep it off. You’ve looked kinda… pale all week.”
Rosie hesitated, her stomach twisting. She had felt off—tired and sluggish, with waves of nausea that came and went at the worst times. But she wasn’t the type to skip work, and certainly not when she needed the distraction. The idea of being alone with her thoughts was almost worse than the ache in her bones.
“Maybe you’re right,” she murmured, rubbing at her temple.
Varsas walked over to her vanity, digging through a drawer before pulling out a small white bottle. “Here. I’ve got aspirin. Take two now, and I’ve got some pretzels in my locker if you need something in your stomach.”
Rosie caught the bottle mid-air and smiled softly. “Thank you, Varsas. Seriously.”
“Don’t worry about it. Us sparkly girls gotta look out for each other,” she said with a wink before disappearing to finish getting ready.
Rosie swallowed the pills dry and took a few deep breaths, steadying herself before heading out to the stage.
The performance went by in a blur.
The lights, the music, the subtle arch of her spine as she swayed and danced—all of it muscle memory now. She smiled when she was supposed to, twirled at the right beats, but the weight in her chest never lifted. Not even when the crowd erupted with applause at the final pose.
Backstage again, she fanned herself off with a silk robe, trying to cool down. But when she glanced out past the curtain to scan the audience—something in her heart thudded hard.
Katsuki.
He was sitting in Varsas' section.
Her breath caught, and her stomach clenched in a strange mixture of surprise, longing… and jealousy.
Varsas had a huge crush on him—had mentioned it a couple of times after a show when he had been here, in that playful, dreamy tone she used whenever she talked about someone she found cute. Rosie had laughed it off at the time, thinking nothing of it. After all, Varsas was sweet and supportive— always kind to her, never mean or fake like some of the others could be. She didn’t deserve jealousy from Rosie, not after everything.
Seeing Katsuki there, arms crossed, his sharp eyes locked on the stage even after the performance had ended—it twisted something in her chest. It wasn’t like she could lay claim to him.
Still… it stung.
Rosie forced herself to look away, brushing her hands down the length of her robe before making her way to her next table. She had a new customer to greet, and she wouldn’t let her emotions show. Not tonight.
But as she reached the corner booth and lifted her head with her usual warm smile, she blinked in surprise. “Riku?”
The older man looked up, equally startled. “Rosie?”
Her smile widened. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
He looked down at the menu awkwardly, then back up at her with an almost sheepish expression. “Yeah, uh—this is actually my first time. My coworkers dragged me out, said the food here was amazing and the girls were, uh... impressive. ” He coughed, clearly a little flustered.
Rosie let out a small laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, they weren’t wrong. The steaks are some of the best in the city. And we’re not too bad to look at, either.”
His friends chuckled behind him, clearly enjoying the exchange as they looked between the two.
Riku’s ears turned pink. “You work here? I didn’t know.”
“Yeah. Started a while ago,” she said, smoothing the hem of her ruffled shorts absently. “Nice to see a familiar face though. You doing okay?”
He relaxed a little, his smile more genuine now. “Yeah. Things have been busy, but good. What about you?”
She hesitated, just a breath, before nodding. “Same. Busy… and good.” It was a lie. But it was easier than unpacking the mess of emotions she was holding together with glitter, good posture, and polite charm. “Well,” she added, reaching for her small notepad, “what can I get you gentlemen to eat tonight?”
As they gave their orders, Rosie wrote everything down with a practiced hand, but part of her mind drifted back—back to the crimson-eyed man sitting across the room, still in Varsas’ section.
And she told herself it didn’t matter.
Even if it did.
Notes:
today has been an amazing day so far😁 not only did the guy in front of me buy my Starbucks but my boyfriend just told me that we are going on a trip to a winery in October🤭🥺 ahhh such a lovely day so far
anyway lemme know your thoughts and I’ll see you in the next one💖
Chapter 143: Why the hell are you so far away from your mom, huh, you cotton swab?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie’s chest heaved with each shaky breath, her phone clutched so tightly in her hand that her knuckles turned white. She was crying—ugly, hiccuping sobs as she stumbled down the dark sidewalk near the dog park, calling Maya’s name for what felt like the hundredth time.
“Maya! Maya! Come here, baby girl! Please!” Her voice cracked mid-scream, echoing uselessly into the humid night air.
Nothing. Only the rustle of leaves and the distant hum of traffic answered her.
Rosie’s legs felt like jelly as she tripped over a crack in the pavement, barely catching herself before she hit the ground. Her entire body was shaking, tears blurring her vision until the world smeared into shapes and colors. She pressed her phone against her chest like it was a lifeline as another sob broke free.
She had already called everyone— everyone . Her Dad. Akira. Mina, Uraraka, and Maerya, everyone who wasn’t working right now. Each call was the same, her words spilling out in panicked fragments as she hyperventilated, trying to explain that Maya had gotten out of the dog park gate and bolted.
“She’s so small,” Rosie whispered through trembling lips, clutching the edge of the gate as if holding it tighter would undo her mistake. “She’s so small, and it’s dark, and she’s probably scared and—and what if someone—”
Her throat closed up with another sob.
She’d only looked away for a second. Just one second to check her phone. And when she’d looked back up, the gate hadn’t been latched properly behind a woman who left with her large Great Dane and Maya’s tiny white body had slipped through it like a wisp of smoke.
Rosie dropped to her knees in the grass, her hands digging into the cold earth as she tried to steady her breathing. “Please be okay… please,” she whispered to herself.
Her phone buzzed violently in her palm. She fumbled to answer it, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “H-Hello?”
“Rosie.” It was her Dad, his voice a low, controlled thread of steel. “We’re on our way. Akira and Maerya are combing the streets near the park now. You need to stay put so we can find you. Understand?”
“I can’t,” she sobbed, pressing her free hand over her heart as it thudded painfully against her ribs. “I can’t just stay still—what if she’s cold or hungry or—or hit by a car—Dad, I can’t—”
“Rosie.” He cut her off, sharp but not unkind. “Listen to me. You’re panicking and that’s going to cloud your judgment. You already called the right people. Stay where you are. We’re coming.”
The sound of her Dad’s voice grounded her for just a second. She nodded, though he couldn’t see her. “O-Okay,” she whispered, voice breaking.
As soon as the call ended, the silence rushed back in. Rosie wrapped her arms around herself, curling in on her knees as she rocked gently back and forth.
“Please,” she whispered to the dark. “She’s all I have left of Mom. Please don’t take her from me too.”
Her phone buzzed again—this time it was Mina, shouting that she and Uraraka had checked two blocks over and hadn’t found anything yet. Rosie barely heard her, staring blankly out toward the empty street, heart hammering like it was trying to break out of her chest.
Somewhere out there, her baby was alone and Rosie felt like she was slowly unraveling.
It had been over an hour.
Rosie sat on the curb outside the park gates, her knees tucked to her chest, nails digging crescents into her own arms as she rocked in place. Her breaths were short, sharp, and ragged, the world closing in like a vise around her. “I can’t—” she gasped, trying to force air into her lungs, “I can’t breathe—I can’t—”
“Rosie, hey, hey, look at me,” Mina crouched in front of her, her bright pink hair sticking damply to her face from sweat and tears. She reached out, gently tugging Rosie’s hands away from where she was gripping her arms so tightly it might bruise. “Breathe with me, okay? Just… slow it down.”
“I can’t!” Rosie choked, her voice breaking as a sob tore through her chest. “She’s out there, and it’s dark and I don’t know where she is and what if someone takes her or she’s—she’s—”
“Rosie!” Uraraka’s voice was soft but firm as she knelt beside her, wrapping her arms around Rosie’s shoulders and pulling her into a warm, anchoring hug. “We’re going to find her. I promise you. But you have to calm down, honey, please.”
Rosie’s entire body trembled as she clung desperately to Uraraka, fingers twisted into the fabric of her jacket. She couldn’t stop the flood of images in her head—Maya scared and lost, tiny paws padding through unfamiliar streets, cold and alone, or worse…
“Oh my god,” she whimpered, burying her face in Uraraka’s shoulder, “I’m a terrible dog mom. She’s probably so scared and it’s my fault—”
“No. No, don’t do that,” Mina cut in, brushing Rosie’s damp hair out of her face. Her own expression was pale and serious. “This isn’t your fault. Dogs are sneaky little escape artists, okay? We’re going to get her back. You just… you have to trust us.”
But Rosie wasn’t sure she could. Her chest tightened again, each breath a shallow gasp, her head spinning. It felt like the walls of the night itself were pressing in.
“She’s all I have left of Mom,” she whispered, her voice cracking on the last word. “If I lose her too…”
“Oh, Rosie…” Uraraka squeezed her tighter, resting her cheek on top of Rosie’s head. “We’re not going to let that happen. We’ll find her. I swear.”
Mina pulled out her phone with a frustrated grunt. “I’m calling Katsuki. He and Kirishima are still out checking the alleys near your apartment building, but maybe—”
Rosie jerked her head up, wide-eyed and trembling. “No—no, I can’t—he’ll think I’m so stupid—”
“Girl, he’ll think you need him,” Mina said sharply. “And he does not mess around when it comes to you. If anyone’s going to sniff out Maya, it’s him.”
Rosie bit her lip, tears streaming freely now. She wanted to protest again, but she couldn’t even form the words as another wave of fear and guilt crashed over her.
Uraraka gently rubbed her back. “Rosie, sweetie… we’re all in this together, okay? You’re not alone.”
Mina was already on the phone, pacing a few feet away, her voice rapid and tense as she explained the situation for the third time that night. Rosie closed her eyes and held on to Uraraka like a lifeline, praying—pleading—that someone would find Maya soon, before the hole in her chest consumed her whole.
“Damn it, where the hell could she be?” Katsuki growled, scanning every shadowed alleyway as they moved down the dimly lit street. He’d been calling Maya’s name under his breath for the past ten minutes, voice taut with frustration and worry.
Kirishima, walking a few feet behind, was tapping out a message on his phone to Mina, updating her on their search area. “We’ll find her, bro. Dogs are smart—she’s probably tucked herself somewhere safe.”
Katsuki didn’t respond. His sharp crimson eyes swept the dark corners, jaw tight, until he heard a soft whimper.
He froze. Head snapping to the left, he peered down a narrow alley wedged between two buildings. “Kiri,” he muttered, holding up a hand. “Shut it a sec.”
Kirishima stopped talking instantly, looking at him curiously.
There it was again. A faint, scared little sound.
Katsuki stepped into the alley, his boots crunching against the grit. His gaze landed on a tiny white bundle huddled against a dumpster, trembling.
“Maya…” His voice dropped, low and soft.
The moment the miniature poodle saw him, her ears perked up, and she let out a yipping cry. She bolted straight for him, little legs pumping, and Katsuki crouched down just in time for her to leap into his arms.
“Why the hell are you so far away from your mom, huh, you cotton swab?” he muttered, clutching her close. Maya yipped again and began licking his jawline frantically, her tiny body shaking like a leaf.
“Damn dog,” he sighed, though the way he cradled her to his chest was anything but annoyed. He shrugged off his hoodie and wrapped her snugly in it, making sure she was warm. Her small face peeked out, eyes wide and wet, but she was safe now.
Kirishima jogged into the alley, relief flooding his face the second he saw Maya. “Oh, thank god,” he exhaled, crouching down to scratch gently behind her ears. “Hey, little one. We’ve all been worried sick about you.”
“Yeah, well, she’s fine now,” Katsuki said, his voice gruff as he tucked the bundle of hoodie closer to his chest.
“I’ll let the girls know we found her.” Kirishima pulled his phone out, already dialing Mina’s number.
Katsuki stood, adjusting Maya carefully in his arms. She nosed into the crook of his neck, letting out a small sigh, and he leaned his head down just a little. “You scared the shit out of your mom, you know that?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “She’s been crying herself hoarse. You better give her a damn kiss when we get there, cotton swab.”
Kirishima ended the call with a relieved grin. “Mina’s gonna let everyone know. They’re waiting for us back at the dog park.”
“Good.” Katsuki started walking, keeping Maya close as if she were the most precious thing in the world. She was still shivering, but not as much now, and the warmth of her tiny heartbeat against his chest calmed something restless and tight inside him. “C’mon, let’s get you back to her,” he whispered to Maya as they stepped back into the street, Kirishima falling into step beside him.
Rosie sat on the edge of the dog park bench, her hands pressed against her mouth, tears blurring her vision as Mina and Uraraka flanked her, murmuring soft reassurances. None of it could drown out the tight knot of fear in her chest. It had been over an hour. What if Maya was hurt? What if someone had taken her?
“Rosie,” Mina whispered, rubbing her back. “We’re going to find her. Katsuki and Kirishima are still out searching, and they—”
She broke off as Rosie’s head snapped up at the sound of footsteps and there he was. Katsuki was striding across the park, his sharp eyes cutting through the dark, his hoodie bundled tightly against his chest.
“Katsuki…” Rosie’s voice cracked. She shot up from the bench, her legs nearly buckling as she ran to him.
He stopped just in time for her to slam into his chest, throwing her arms around him. “Thank you!” she sobbed, clutching the fabric of his shirt, her tears soaking into it. “Oh my god, thank you, thank you, thank you!”
He grunted softly, one hand coming up to steady her, the other still cradling the small bundle of white fluff. “She’s fine, dumbass,” he said gruffly, but there was no bite in it.
Rosie pulled back just enough to see what was wrapped in his hoodie—and her breath hitched. “Maya,” she whispered, her heart nearly giving out at the sight of her tiny dog blinking up at her with wide, wet eyes.
She took Maya carefully into her arms, cradling her against her chest. “You’re okay, baby girl,” she murmured through tears, pressing kisses to her soft fur. “Oh, you scared me so badly. Don’t ever do that again.”
Maya yipped softly and nuzzled her chin as Rosie swayed with her, the tears streaming down her cheeks.
She remembered herself then, and with a sniff, she looked back up at Katsuki. “I can’t thank you enough,” she whispered, and before she could think about it, she rose up on her toes and pressed a trembling kiss to his cheek.
He blinked at her, frozen, but Rosie was already turning back to Maya, whispering soothing nonsense into her fur.
“Rosie, we’re so glad you found her,” Uraraka said softly, Mina nodding emphatically beside her.
Rosie looked at both of them through watery eyes. “Thank you,” she said, voice thick. “Thank you all for helping me look.”
Kirishima, who had just caught up, rubbed the back of his neck, smiling softly. “We’re just glad she’s safe now. And… uh, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving. What do you say we all go grab some dinner? My treat.”
Rosie sniffled, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her sleeve. “That… that sounds great,” she said softly. She hugged Maya close one more time, feeling her tiny heartbeat against her own. “Yeah. Dinner sounds perfect.”
Katsuki was silent at her side, his crimson eyes still on her as they all started walking out of the park together, but Rosie couldn’t bring herself to look at him just yet. Her heart was still too full, her hands trembling as she held Maya and whispered, “You’re safe now, baby girl. You’re safe.”
The hot pot restaurant was warm, fragrant, and buzzing with chatter as Rosie slid into the booth between Mina and Uraraka, Maya tucked into a soft little blanket beside her on the bench. The staff had been kind enough to let her bring Maya in once they explained what had happened, and Rosie was grateful—the thought of leaving her home alone after everything was unthinkable.
Maya sat obediently on the bench, watching Rosie with wide, glimmering eyes as she broke off small strips of raw meat and fed them carefully into the tiny mouth. “Good girl,” Rosie cooed softly, her heart easing more and more with every little wag of the fluffy tail.
Across the table, Mina and Katsuki were already in a full-blown debate about the best way to cook the hot pot.
“No, no, no!” Mina waved the slotted spoon like a weapon. “You have to build the flavor slowly. That means simmering your aromatics first, Katsuki!”
“Simmering my ass!” Katsuki snapped, grabbing for the spoon. “You sear the meat first, dumbass. That’s how you get actual flavor. Who the hell taught you to cook, anyway?”
“My grandmother, thank you very much!” Mina clutched the spoon to her chest like it was a family heirloom. “And she knows better than you, Mr. Burn-Everything-With-Explosions!”
“Watch it, Pinky,” Katsuki growled, reaching over the bubbling broth to reclaim his culinary dominance.
Kirishima, laughing too hard to be of any help, chimed in from the end of the table. “Okay, okay—what if we just… compromise? Half the broth is Katsuki’s way, and the other half is Mina’s way?”
“Hell no!” they both shouted in unison, making Uraraka snort beer out of her nose from where she sat nursing her drink.
Rosie just sat back and watched it all with a soft smile, the warmth of the room wrapping around her like a hug. Maya licked a bit of broth from Rosie’s fingers, wagging her tail as the girl giggled.
“This is nice,” she murmured, mostly to herself as Mina and Katsuki continued their heated (and strangely passionate) cooking argument. Uraraka leaned over slightly, her head coming to rest on Rosie’s shoulder, and the brunette’s quiet voice joined hers.
“It is. Feels like… the world can be messy and scary, but at least we still have nights like this, you know?”
Rosie nodded, her eyes soft as she looked around the table. Mina and Katsuki were still snapping at each other, Kirishima egging them on with commentary, Uraraka’s warm weight pressed to her side, Maya snuggled by her thigh.
She didn’t realize she was still smiling until Katsuki’s crimson eyes flicked over to her in the middle of the argument. For a heartbeat, the heat in his gaze wasn’t from irritation but something quieter—warmer—and Rosie looked down quickly, cheeks pink.
Maya yipped softly as if to break the spell, and Rosie fed her another piece of meat. “You’re safe,” she whispered to her dog with a fond little laugh.
The night air was cool and sweet, the distant glow of city lights painting the sidewalks in soft amber hues. Rosie walked slowly, cradling Maya in her arms as the little dog snuggled against her chest, already half-asleep. Katsuki walked at her side, hands shoved deep in his pockets, his black jacket pulled tight over his broad shoulders.
Rosie tilted her head toward him, her lips curved in a small, warm smile. “Thank you again,” she said softly, her voice barely above the hum of the street. “For finding Maya. I don’t know what I would’ve done if…” She trailed off, clutching the little dog a bit closer as the thought twisted in her stomach.
Katsuki glanced at her from the corner of his eye, grunting low in his throat. “You don’t have to keep thanking me. I just did what anyone would’ve done.”
“No,” Rosie shook her head, her soft pink hair brushing against her cheeks. “Not everyone would’ve dropped everything and searched half the city. You… you always show up when I need you.” She bit her lip, hesitant, before adding with a shy smile, “You’re kind of like my hero, Katsuki.”
He scowled at the sidewalk, his jaw tightening, as though the words were too much for him to process. “Tch. I’m not your damn hero,” he muttered, but there was no heat in it. His hand twitched at his side, like he wanted to reach for her and didn’t.
Rosie’s smile softened further. “Maybe not. But you’re mine anyway.”
That made him snap his gaze toward her, crimson eyes glimmering under the streetlight. She held his stare with quiet confidence, though her heart thumped hard against Maya’s small body. He didn’t look away, and for a moment, she thought he might actually say something—something big, something real.
Instead, he grunted and jerked his chin toward her. “You better start being more careful, dumbass. You damn near gave me a heart attack tonight. One minute, I’m on patrol, and the next, I’m running around in back alleys looking for you and that cotton swab.”
Maya yawned at the nickname, and Rosie giggled. “I’ll try,” she promised. “But it was worth it, wasn’t it? Finding her?”
“Of course it was worth it,” he snapped, glaring at her like she’d asked the dumbest question in the world. Then, quieter, “You’re worth it.”
Rosie’s heart stuttered. She looked down quickly, hoping he wouldn’t notice the heat flooding her cheeks. “I… I really am lucky to have you, Katsuki,” she whispered.
“Shut up,” he muttered, but his voice had softened, and when he looked at her again, there was that quiet warmth in his eyes that made her chest ache.
They walked the rest of the way in silence, a comfortable one, their shoulders brushing every so often. At her apartment building, Rosie shifted Maya and turned toward him, her lips still curved in that smile that always seemed to undo him. “Goodnight, Katsuki. And thank you again—for everything.”
He hesitated before nodding. “Goodnight, doll,” he said gruffly, backing away as though he was afraid he’d kiss her if he stayed a second longer.
Rosie stood on the stoop, watching him go, her heart fluttering wildly in her chest. Maya stirred softly in her arms, and Rosie kissed the top of the little dog’s head with a sigh before turning and entering the lobby.
Notes:
Fun fact: the first time Maya first ran away was because our other dog Lily, an Australian blue mural had ran away and my dog followed her. It took half a day before she came back and I had a complete panic attack about it. I was a sophomore in high school then🫠🥺
That was the first and last time she ever ran away as I have a bell on her.
Anyway, lemme know your thoughts and I’ll see you in the next one👌🏻
Chapter 144: 0916
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The scent of rosemary and garlic butter filled Aizawa’s small kitchen as Rosie plated the roast chicken and vegetables she’d been carefully working on all afternoon. She’d made it a habit lately to come over to cook for him, both because she worried he wasn’t eating enough on his own and because she missed the quiet comfort of her father’s company.
They sat at the dining table, the clink of cutlery echoing softly in the background. Rosie smiled faintly, glad to see him actually enjoying the food. “So… how’s work been? You look less tired than usual.”
Aizawa chewed slowly, giving her his usual unreadable expression before setting down his fork. “Work’s work,” he muttered. Then, in that same casual tone that always made Rosie suspicious, he added, “I met someone I think you should meet.”
Rosie froze mid-bite. “...What?”
“He’s a good guy,” her dad continued, reaching for his glass of water. “A lawyer. Stable job. Comes from a decent family. He’d take good care of you.”
Rosie’s heart jumped in her chest, her fork clattering softly against her plate. “Wait—where is this coming from?”
Aizawa looked at her calmly, though there was a faint crease in his brow. “Rosie, I’m not getting any younger,” he said bluntly. “I won’t always be here to take care of you. It’s high time you start… considering dating. Someone who can be there for you.”
Her stomach twisted. “You—” She blinked, taken aback. “You never wanted me dating. You practically banned it!”
He didn’t flinch. “I still stand by that,” he said evenly, voice low and firm. “But my love for you outweighs my feelings on the matter. I want you to have someone in your corner. Someone who’s… stable.”
Rosie’s throat went dry. She picked at her napkin, fidgeting under his steady gaze. “I’m… I’m not interested in dating right now,” she said quickly. It wasn’t a total lie.
Aizawa frowned slightly, leaning back in his chair. “Rosie—”
“No, Dad.” She shook her head, staring at her plate. “I need to focus on… me. I’m still trying to get my memories back, and my life already feels messy enough without dragging someone else into it. It wouldn’t be fair to them.”
The silence that followed was heavy, but not cold. Aizawa studied her for a long moment, his dark eyes softening, though his shoulders remained tense. “I just want to make sure you’re taken care of,” he finally said quietly.
Rosie managed a small, warm smile, though her chest ached. “You already do that, Dad. More than anyone else ever could.”
His lips pressed into a thin line, and she could see that he wanted to argue, but for now, he only nodded and picked his fork back up. Rosie forced herself to eat too, though she couldn’t shake the nervous flutter that had settled in her stomach.
Where had that come from?
Rosie stopped at Ishlamare on her way home, her mind still swirling from dinner with her dad. The warm scent of roasted espresso and cinnamon hit her as soon as she stepped inside, instantly softening the tightness in her chest. She waited patiently in line, hugging her jacket to her frame as her eyes drifted toward the glowing pastry case.
When it was her turn, she smiled at the barista behind the counter. “Hi, can I get a hot chocolate, please? Extra whipped cream with a dash of cinnamon?”
“Of course!” the barista chirped. “That’ll be ready at the end of the counter.”
Rosie stepped aside, digging through her purse for some cash while the hum of conversation filled the small café. When her name was called, she reached eagerly for the warm cup, already imagining the creamy sweetness.
She took a sip without hesitation—and immediately gagged. The bitter taste of black coffee flooded her mouth, startling and sharp. She almost spit it out but forced herself to swallow instead, coughing softly into the back of her hand.
Black coffee?
A sharp pain bloomed at her temple, so sudden it made her flinch. For just a second, the world around her seemed to tilt. She knew this taste—this café. The dark bitterness of coffee clinging to her tongue was tied to something, a memory just out of reach.
The barista noticed, leaning forward over the counter. “Ma’am? Are you okay?”
Rosie blinked hard, grounding herself. She waved her hand quickly. “Y-yeah, I’m fine. It’s just…” She glanced down at the cup, her heart still thudding. “I think you gave me the wrong drink. I ordered a hot chocolate.”
“Oh! I’m so sorry, I’ll fix that for you right away,” the barista said with an apologetic smile, taking the cup from her.
Rosie stepped back, rubbing her temple as the barista remade her drink. The pain was fading, but the unease remained.
Why did that feel so familiar?
She stared at the black coffee in the trash can, unsettled. I don’t drink black coffee—never have. Then why does it feel like I’ve stood in this café before, sipping black coffee on purpose? Like… I liked it?
The barista called her name again, and Rosie forced a smile as she accepted the steaming cup of hot chocolate. But as she walked out the door, she couldn’t stop turning the question over and over in her head.
When… and why… would I have willingly drunk black coffee?
Rosie had been at work when it happened. Varsas had called out sick that morning, and Haruhi was out too, both down with a nasty stomach bug making the rounds. That left Rosie closing the apartment alone later that night, humming softly to Maya as she unlocked her front door.
Except when she stepped inside, a chill ran down her spine.
Something felt… off.
She set her purse down carefully, her eyes sweeping the apartment. At first glance, nothing seemed wrong, but as she walked from the living room to the bedroom, unease settled deep in her chest. Her laundry hamper had been rummaged through, clothes tossed out carelessly. The books on her nightstand had been shifted, the order of the spines ever so slightly changed. Her laptop—one she always left closed on her desk in her bedroom—now sat open on the kitchen island, screen black but faintly warm to the touch, as if someone had been using it minutes ago.
And Maya…
Her little cotton swab was curled up on the couch chewing her toy, utterly unbothered. That was odd. Maya hated strangers, especially men. If someone had been in the apartment, she should have been barking up a storm, yet she looked as calm as if nothing had happened.
Rosie’s pulse was pounding in her ears.
The only other people with keys were her dad and Akira, but her dad was on assignment the entire week. Akira was sleeping over at Monoma’s.
She stood in the middle of the apartment, twisting her phone in her hands, debating what to do. Should she call her dad? He’d know what to do, but… he’d been strange lately. Hovering and pushing her into blind dates with men he trusted—lawyers, doctors, dentists, single men he’d saved over the years. And the idea of him storming in and scolding her for "not being careful" made her chest tighten.
Her phone buzzed softly in her hand.
She exhaled and quickly pulled up Mina’s contact instead. Mina wouldn’t scold. Mina would just… help.
Within twenty minutes, Mina was at her apartment, bursting through the door with a determined look. “I’m glad you called me,” she said, pulling Rosie into a quick hug.
Rosie nodded, gripping her friend tightly for a moment before stepping back. “I didn’t know who else to call. I thought about my dad, but—”
“But you didn’t want the lecture,” Mina finished gently, her gaze scanning the apartment.
“Yes,” Rosie whispered, hugging her arms to her chest. “I know it sounds paranoid, but… things were moved. I swear they were moved, Mina. My laundry hamper, the books on my nightstand, and my laptop was on the kitchen island. It was warm. Someone used it.”
Mina frowned, eyes narrowing as she moved toward the kitchen, inspecting the counter where Rosie’s laptop sat. “And Maya didn’t bark or react?”
“No,” Rosie said, glancing at her little dog, still happily chewing on her toy. “That’s what’s so weird. She hates strangers.”
Mina crouched to scratch Maya’s ears, her expression thoughtful. “Okay. It doesn’t sound paranoid. It sounds like someone was in here, and that’s not okay.” She stood again, looking at Rosie with firm determination. “We need to call the police. At the very least, we should get the locks changed and install cameras.”
Rosie’s throat tightened. “Do you really think… someone broke in?”
“Yes,” Mina said bluntly. “And if it’s not a break-in, it’s someone with access to your keys, which is just as bad. Either way, this isn’t something to shrug off.”
Rosie sank onto the couch, hugging a pillow to her chest as her mind raced. “I feel like I’m going crazy,” she whispered.
Mina sat beside her, draping an arm around her shoulders. “You’re not crazy. Something happened. And I’m not letting you deal with it alone. We’ll figure it out, Rosie, okay? But I need you to trust me and take this seriously. Whoever was here might come back, so pack a bag and come over to my house for the night.”
Rosie nodded slowly, her fingers tightening around the pillow as dread twisted in her stomach.
Mina drove them straight to her place, talking lightly the entire way in an attempt to keep Rosie calm while Maya yipped from the back seat, trying to clamber into Rosie’s lap. Rosie stroked the little dog’s soft fur, her mind still spinning from the discovery at her apartment.
“It’s going to be fine,” Mina reassured as they pulled into her driveway. “I’ve got wine, and an entire freezer full of mochi ice cream. We’ll be good.”
Rosie nodded, clutching Maya close as they climbed out of the car and headed to the front door.
The second Mina unlocked it, the sound of shouting and laughter hit them. Rosie blinked, startled, as she stepped inside and saw Kirishima and Katsuki sitting on the living room floor, game controllers in hand, half-empty beer bottles scattered on the coffee table.
“YOU CHEATING EXTRA PIECE OF SHIT!” Katsuki roared, thumb mashing buttons furiously.
“NOT CHEATING!” Kirishima yelled back, grinning like a madman. “JUST BETTER MAN!”
Katsuki’s focus wavered the instant Rosie stepped into the room, Maya wriggling in her arms. His crimson eyes locked onto her, and he froze for a beat—long enough for Kirishima to slam the finishing move.
“YES! TAKE THAT!” Kirishima jumped to his feet, fists raised triumphantly. “I WIN!”
“Fuck!” Katsuki snarled, tossing the controller onto the couch. “You only won because—”
Mina cleared her throat loudly. “Because you got distracted by Rosie walking in,” she finished for him, glaring knowingly.
Katsuki ignored her, but his gaze never left Rosie.
Kirishima grabbed another beer from the table and turned to Mina. “What’s up?”
“Rosie’s staying the night,” Mina said, setting her bag down.
“Cool, yeah,” Kirishima nodded, already dropping back onto the couch.
Katsuki, however, remained exactly where he was, jaw tight, eyes scanning Rosie like he was trying to solve a puzzle. He stood slowly, the silence stretching uncomfortably as he closed the distance between them.
“What happened?” he asked quietly, voice low and hard-edged.
Mina arched a brow. “What makes you think something happened?”
He cut her a sharp look. “Because I know when something’s wrong.”
Rosie shifted on her feet, glancing at Mina for reassurance before finally speaking. “Someone broke into my apartment,” she admitted, voice trembling slightly. “I noticed when I came home from work. Stuff was moved around, my laptop was open, and…” she trailed off, hugging Maya closer.
Mina stepped in. “I told her she could stay here tonight. Tomorrow, we’re getting the locks changed, a new alarm system installed, and she’s going to file a report.”
Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “I can investigate it,” he said flatly.
“That’s… too much,” Rosie started, shaking her head. “You don’t need to—”
“Shut the hell up,” he cut her off, stepping closer, his tone brooking no argument. “I’ll take care of it.”
Rosie opened her mouth to argue, but his glare silenced her instantly. He turned on his heel, snatched his coat from the back of the chair, and headed for the door.
“Katsuki—” Mina began, but he didn’t stop.
“Stay here,” was all he growled before the door slammed shut behind him.
Rosie stood frozen, staring at the door with wide eyes, clutching Maya tightly to her chest.
Rosie tried to relax that night, but it wasn’t easy. Mina insisted they break out the wine and snacks, making an impromptu sleepover in the living room. Kirishima joined them for a while, trying to lighten the mood with stories and goofy impressions, but even as Rosie laughed softly at his antics, her eyes kept drifting to the door.
“Stop worrying,” Mina murmured when Kirishima finally went to bed. She draped a blanket over Rosie’s shoulders. “You’re safe here. Katsuki’s just… being Katsuki. He’ll handle it.”
Rosie nodded, hugging Maya to her chest as the little dog licked her cheek comfortingly. But even as Mina flicked on a lighthearted movie, Rosie’s thoughts kept spinning. Where had he gone? Was he okay? Would he come back tonight?
Eventually, Mina fell asleep beside her on the couch, but Rosie lay awake for a long time, staring at the ceiling and listening to Maya’s soft breathing.
Rosie sat at the kitchen table, cradling a mug of coffee between her hands. She’d added so much sugar and cream it was practically dessert, but the comfort of the sweetness was what she needed. Her head throbbed slightly from the wine the night before, and she let out a soft sigh as she tried to collect herself.
The sudden sound of the front door swinging open made her jump. Katsuki strode into the kitchen like a storm, still in the same clothes from last night. His eyes were sharp and unwavering as they locked onto her.
“I changed your locks,” he said without preamble, tossing a new set of keys onto the table. “Installed a new alarm system. Put a camera up in your hallway—it’s angled so it can see everyone who comes and goes”
Rosie blinked, wide-eyed, as he pulled a folded paper from his pocket and handed it to her. “That’s your new code,” he said firmly.
She stared at the keys, the paper, and then at him, the paper read 0916 Something warm filled her chest, pushing against the lump in her throat. “Thank you,” she said softly, smiling at him. “Really. Thank you, Katsuki.”
He only grunted in response, looking away as if embarrassed by her gratitude.
Rosie stood, clutching the keys, and before she could overthink it, leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. His head jerked slightly at the contact, crimson eyes darting to hers.
“Would you like some coffee?” Rosie asked softly, still smiling up at him, her voice warm despite the quiet ache tugging at her chest.
“Yes,” he swallowed thickly, his eyes lingering on her face as if he didn’t want to look away. “Please.”
Her smile grew a fraction, soft and sweet. “Okay, sit,” she whispered, motioning toward the kitchen table. But he didn’t sit. Instead, Katsuki stepped further into the kitchen, brushing past her shoulder to grab the coffee grounds from the cabinet.
“I’ll help,” he said gruffly, setting them on the counter.
Rosie tilted her head, watching him with amused curiosity as he filled the filter with practiced precision. “You’re really good at that,” she teased.
He shot her a sharp look. “It’s coffee, Rosie. Not rocket science.”
She laughed, the sound soft and genuine, and moved to the fridge to grab eggs and bacon. “Fine, Mr. Coffee Expert. I’ll handle breakfast.”
It was easy, the way they fell into rhythm together. She cracked eggs into a bowl, adding salt, pepper and pieces of potato whisking them with a quiet hum as he set the skillet on the stove. When she reached over him to grab a spatula, their shoulders brushed, and she felt her heart stutter in her chest.
He must have felt it too because his hand stilled for a moment on the pan before he stepped back, giving her room—but never too much. “You’re messy,” he grumbled as she flicked eggs onto the counter.
Rosie pouted, lifting the whisk. “I’m not messy. You’re just… overly neat.”
“Neat gets the job done.” He smirked at her pout, leaning in slightly. “Unlike you, sweetheart.”
She huffed, cheeks pink, and sprinkled cheese over the eggs. “Maybe I won’t make you any, then.”
“Yeah, right,” he muttered, leaning against the counter next to where she stood. “You’re too nice not to do that.”
A few minutes later, Rosie perched on the counter, bare feet swinging, holding a plate in her lap. Katsuki stood beside her, leaning one hip against the counter, his crimson eyes softer than she’d ever seen them as he reached for the fork. “Open,” he ordered.
Rosie blinked at him, lips parting just enough to let him feed her a bite of scrambled eggs. She giggled after she swallowed. “You’re bossy even at breakfast.”
“Damn right,” he said, smirking.
She scooped up a bit of egg and held the fork out for him. “Open,” she teased, eyes sparkling.
He rolled his eyes but complied, biting down on the fork slowly and deliberately. Rosie tried not to stare at his mouth, tried not to think about how close he was, how warm and safe it felt just being near him.
They traded bites, soft smiles and quiet teasing filling the kitchen. At one point, Rosie leaned forward to dab a crumb off his lip with her thumb, and he caught her wrist gently, holding her hand there for a moment.
The air shifted, charged and fragile. Katsuki’s gaze flickered down to her lips, and Rosie’s breath hitched. Slowly, almost unconsciously, they leaned toward one another, the world narrowing to the faint warmth of his breath brushing against her mouth—
The sound of stumbling footsteps shattered the moment. “—Oh, hell yes, food!” Kirishima’s voice bellowed from the doorway, Mina right behind him, both looking half-asleep and rumpled from bed.
Rosie and Katsuki jerked apart instantly, Rosie nearly dropping her plate in the process. Her cheeks burned as Mina’s sharp eyes caught their guilty expressions and her lips curled into a knowing grin.
“Good morning…” Mina sang teasingly, eyes darting between them. “We didn’t interrupt anything, did we?”
Rosie fumbled for words, clutching her plate like a lifeline. Katsuki, meanwhile, simply scowled darkly, his shoulders tight as if he’d been caught doing something he absolutely wasn’t ready to explain.
“Shut the hell up pinky,” Katsuki snapped. “Or I’ll eat your plate too.”
Mina smirked as she wagged her brows at the two, Rosie blushing and Katsuki flipping her off.
Notes:
Ahhh so today is my Mom’s birthday so I won’t be around much as we’re about to head out to get mani-pedi’s🤭
I hope you guys have a lovely day and I will see you Tuesday (peep the new posting schedule).
As always lemme know your thoughts and I’ll see you in the next one!💖
Chapter 145: You’re trouble...You like trouble
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie’s bathroom counter looked like a small hurricane had torn through it—makeup palettes lay open with colorful powders dusting the surface, lip gloss tubes scattered like candy, and hair tools heating quietly in a jumble of cords. Music thumped softly from her speaker, a pulsing rhythm that matched the excitement buzzing through her chest.
She stood at the mirror, teasing her pink hair into soft waves before spraying it with a fine mist of silver glitter, catching the light like tiny stars as it settled. Humming along to the song playing, she leaned in closer to apply a smooth coat of strawberry-flavored lip gloss, pressing her lips together with a soft pop.
“Okay…” she murmured, turning her head from side to side in the mirror. Her red halter dress hugged her curves, paired with silver heels that made her legs look impossibly long. She’d added just enough highlight on her cheekbones and collarbone to shimmer under the club lights, and the result had her smiling softly at her reflection.
Grabbing her small black crossbody purse, Rosie checked to make sure she had her keys, wallet, and phone before flicking the lights off. She stepped out of her apartment, locked up carefully, and took a deep breath. Tonight was about letting go and having fun.
The moment she stepped outside, a car horn honked twice from the curb. Rosie looked up to see Mina leaning halfway out of the passenger window of a sleek black car, waving wildly at her. “Rosie! Hurry up, babe!”
Laughing, she jogged over and slid into the backseat, instantly greeted by a chorus of squeals and cheers. “There she is!” Uraraka exclaimed, dressed in a sparkly pink dress that perfectly matched her eyes.
“Damn, Rosie, you look amazing,” Maerya teased, flicking at the silver glitter in Rosie’s hair with a grin. She herself wore a bold dark blue set that contrasted sharply with her dark hair.
“You’re gonna make every guy in Plum lose his mind,” Jirou added from the driver’s seat, her purple eyeliner sharp and perfect as she smirked into the rearview mirror.
Rosie laughed softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re all ridiculous. But thank you.”
“Please, it’s facts,” Mina shot back as the car pulled away from the curb. She turned halfway in her seat, the glittering teal of her minidress catching the dashboard lights. “Tonight’s going to be insane. Momo, Toru, Tsui, Akira, and Kanako are already waiting for us at Plum. They’ve been texting like crazy.”
Rosie’s heart did a little skip at the thought of seeing everyone. There was something about girls’ nights—about being surrounded by the people who made her laugh until her stomach hurt—that felt like medicine.
Jirou reached to turn up the music, bass vibrating through the car as they drove toward the city lights. Mina and Uraraka started singing loudly, Maerya laughing and joining in halfway through the chorus. Rosie leaned her head against the window for a moment, a smile tugging at her glossed lips as she watched the glowing skyline come into view.
Plum was going to be packed, the kind of club where the music swallowed you whole and the dance floor pulsed like a living thing—but tonight, that was exactly what she needed.
The neon sign for Plum was impossible to miss—a glowing cascade of violet and indigo letters flashing above the entrance as a line of people wound down the block. Rosie followed her friends up to the front, the music already vibrating through the sidewalk beneath her heels. The bouncer, recognizing Jirou from past gigs she’d done for the club, waved them in without so much as a glance at IDs.
The club was alive.
Strobing lights washed the room in purple and blue, lasers cutting through the fog rolling over the dance floor. The bass thumped so loud Rosie could feel it in her bones, every beat syncing with her pulse. The scent of perfume, alcohol, and faint sweat filled the air, a strangely intoxicating mix that was as familiar as it was dizzying.
The girls made their way to the bar first, Momo, Toru, Tsui, Kanako, and Akira waving wildly from their claimed spot at the corner. The group of ten quickly filled the space, ordering colorful cocktails and shots as they started catching up. The drinks flowed easily, loosening stiff shoulders and melting away whatever stress they’d carried in.
Soon enough, Mina was dragging them all to the dance floor. “Come on! No excuses!” she shouted over the music, tugging at Rosie’s hand.
They moved as one—laughing, shouting lyrics, hips swaying to the relentless beat. Toru twirled Tsui in a circle, Jirou and Uraraka were goofily making up synchronized moves, and Rosie couldn’t help the wide grin stretching across her face as Mina spun her dramatically. Even Momo, usually reserved, was moving to the rhythm with a soft smile tugging at her lips.
By the time they stumbled back to their booth, flushed and breathless, Kanako was already darting off to grab the first round of shots. Everyone flopped into the semicircular leather booth, still giggling and brushing glitter from each other’s hair.
It didn’t take long before the conversations broke off into smaller groups.
“I can’t believe I’m even saying this,” Akira groaned, dragging her hands down her face. “But Monoma brought up… moving in together next year.”
“Oh,” Mina blinked, leaning in immediately. “That’s big!”
“It’s too big!” Akira blurted. “I just moved here! I’m barely settled in my apartment, and he’s talking about merging our entire lives already! I’m not ready for that commitment—I can barely commit to a new Netflix series right now!”
Uraraka reached across the table, patting her hand reassuringly. “It doesn’t mean you don’t care about him. But it’s okay to set your boundaries.”
Mina nodded, sipping her drink. “Exactly. You have to tell him where you stand before it turns into resentment.”
Across the booth, Maerya was talking quietly with Jirou, Tsui, and Toru. “I just… I don’t know what to do about Shoji,” she admitted softly. “We’ve been hanging out a lot lately, and I like him, but I don’t know if he likes me back. He’s so hard to read.”
“Oh please, he’s totally into you,” Jirou said immediately, rolling her eyes. “Have you seen the way he looks at you?”
“Yeah, like you’re the only person in the room,” Toru added, giggling.
“Not to mention,” Tsui chimed in, “he’s clearly more comfortable around you than anyone else. That’s huge for Shoji.”
While those two conversations carried on, Kanako was still at the bar ordering shots, leaving Rosie sitting next to Momo in a rare pocket of quiet. Rosie shifted a little, glancing sideways at the other woman. “Can I ask you something?”
Momo blinked, setting down her drink. “Of course.”
“Why are you… angry with me?” Rosie asked softly. “I’ve been trying to figure it out, but I feel like I’ve just been upsetting you without meaning to.”
Momo’s face softened immediately, her shoulders slumping as she let out a slow breath. “Rosie… I’m sorry. I was wrong for everything I said and the way I acted before. I’ve just been dealing with my own issues, and it was unfair to dump all of that on you. I lashed out, and I regret it.”
Rosie’s brows knitted together, her heart aching. “You don’t need to apologize for dealing with stuff. I just… I don’t ever want you to think I was trying to hurt you. Or… or that I’m trying to steal Shoto from you or something.”
Momo quickly shook her head. “I know you’re not. And for what it’s worth… I think part of me was projecting my insecurities. But Rosie, I know you don’t feel that way about him.”
Rosie nodded, frowning down at her hands. “I don’t. He’s… Shoto’s wonderful, and he’s kind and handsome, but… I don’t find him attractive in a romantic way. I never have. I’m sorry if it ever seemed like I did.”
Momo reached over, squeezing her hand gently. “It didn’t and even if it did, that’s not your fault. We’re not together so I have no right to get jealous. I just… I need to work on myself. But I want us to be okay, to be friends.”
Rosie smiled softly, relieved as the tension that had weighed on her shoulders eased. “I want that too.”
Just then, Kanako returned with a tray of neon-colored shots balanced in her hands. “Okay, my beautiful disasters!” she announced, setting them down dramatically. “Who’s ready to make some questionable decisions?”
“ Always! ” Mina whooped, grabbing the first one as the table erupted in laughter.
The girls were back on the dance floor, glitter catching the strobe lights like they were galaxies in motion. Their drinks had been replaced by glowing neon cups that sloshed with sugary cocktails, and the music seemed louder than ever as they moved together in one big laughing, shouting circle. Mina was in full “party commander” mode, dragging Toru into a ridiculous spin, while Uraraka was giggling so hard she nearly fell into Akira.
Rosie, tipsy and warm, was dancing with Maerya when her friend leaned close to shout in her ear, “Okay, enough being shy—you need to just grab him and kiss him!”
Rosie blinked at her through the haze of flashing lights and alcohol, then dissolved into laughter. “I can’t just grab him, Maerya!” she protested, slurring just a little.
“Yes, you can!” Maerya said, hyping her up like a pro. “Rosie, he’s obsessed with you! Do you want him? Then go for it! Kiss the man!”
Rosie’s drunken brain decided this was the best advice she’d ever received. She nodded fervently, her pink hair bouncing. “Yes. Yes, you’re right. I need to!”
Before Maerya could ask what she was doing, Rosie was already digging for her phone in her small crossbody bag. She found his contact and hit FaceTime.
Katsuki answered on the second ring. The sight of him shirtless, hair still damp from a shower, made her squeak. “Hiiiii,” she practically sang, giggling and pressing the phone too close to her face.
“Rosie?” he frowned, leaning closer to his screen. “What the hell—are you drunk?”
“Maybeeee,” she giggled again, stumbling slightly as she moved off the dance floor toward the quieter hallway. “We’re at Plum! It’s girls’ night!”
Katsuki dragged a hand down his face, muttering under his breath. “Figures. Where’s Mina? Or Maerya?”
“They’re dancing,” Rosie said, leaning against the wall. “Do you want to see my outfit? It’s so cute.”
Before he could answer, she set the phone down on the bathroom counter and twirled clumsily in front of the camera, nearly tripping on her heels. “See?” she chirped, giggling and striking a pose.
He stared at the screen, jaw tight. “Rosie, stop spinning before you fall on your ass.”
“I’m fine!” she insisted, scooping the phone back up. She leaned close to the screen, lips puckered, and kissed it noisily. “Mwah! I’m going now, byyyyeee!”
“Rosie, wait—”
But she’d already hung up. She tucked her phone back into her bag and stumbled back onto the dance floor, arms flung around Maerya and Uraraka as they cheered her return. She didn’t even notice the look of alarm or the desire Katsuki had worn through the entire call.
The club was a blur of music, flashing lights, and the soft haze of too many cocktails. Rosie couldn’t remember how many shots they’d taken—or how many fruity drinks Mina had shoved into their hands—but the group was fully split now. Half of the girls had collapsed into their booth, shrieking with laughter and taking turns drinking water to balance out the alcohol, while the rest—including Rosie and Maerya—were still on the dance floor.
The bass pulsed through Rosie’s body, her hair glittering under the neon lights as she moved with Maerya, laughing breathlessly as the taller girl twirled her.
It wasn’t until Rosie felt a presence behind her that she realized the boyfriends had started showing up in small groups. She glimpsed Kirishima’s familiar red spikes as he swooped Mina into his arms from the booth. Uraraka squealed as Izuku arrived, practically tumbling into his chest. Kanako was dragged off the dance floor by Shinso, the smug smirk on his face only making her roll her eyes. Akira and Monoma were already making out in the booth, and Jirou was suddenly kissing Denki’s cheek while pretending not to care.
Rosie giggled at the chaos as she moved closer to Maerya. But then, her breath hitched. Shoji appeared in the crowd, looming protectively as he found Maerya, and beside him was Katsuki.
Rosie froze for half a second as she saw him cutting through the dance floor, hands shoved in his pockets, that scowl fixed firmly on his face. He was looking straight at her.
Something warm—maybe liquid courage, maybe just Katsuki himself—spread through her chest. She didn’t retreat. Instead, she stepped closer, backing up until she was flush against him. He stiffened slightly, but didn’t move away.
“Why’d you come?” she asked, her voice soft and coy as she tilted her head back to look up at him.
His crimson eyes flicked down at her. “Needed to make sure you were okay,” he said gruffly.
Rosie smiled up at him, drunk and bright, reaching up to tug at the collar of his shirt so he had to lean closer. “No,” she giggled. “It’s just ‘cause you think I’m pretty.”
His lips twitched, almost a smile, almost a smirk. “You’re drunk,” he muttered, but his hands came to her waist anyway, steadying her as she swayed lightly to the music.
“Not that drunk,” she whispered back, guiding his hands lower. “Touch me, Katsuki…”
He chuckled lowly in her ear, the sound dark and teasing. “You’re trouble,” he said.
“You like trouble,” she countered, biting her lip as her eyes fluttered up to his.
He was about to answer—maybe lean down, maybe do something that would ruin them both—when Maerya bumped into them, her lipstick smudged and Shoji’s cheek suspiciously marked.
“We’re getting food,” Maerya announced, breathless, grabbing Shoji’s hand. “You’re coming too.”
Before Rosie could argue, Katsuki swept her up, throwing her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing. “Katsuki!” she yelped, kicking her legs lightly as he carried her off the dance floor.
“Settle down,” he growled, swatting her ass lightly as she wiggled.
She let out a squeak, smacking at his back, but she didn’t actually fight him. She was laughing as he carried her out of the club, one arm wrapped around her legs to keep her from falling.
Outside, the rest of the girls were in a tipsy huddle, arguing about where to go.
“Tacos,” Mina slurred.
“No, ramen,” Jirou said.
“Ice cream,” Uraraka offered weakly.
Rosie, hanging over Katsuki’s shoulder, let out a soft, pitiful whine. “I want a burger…”
All the girls looked up at her, blinking, before they nodded almost in unison. “That sounds perfect, ” Mina declared, fist pumping.
Katsuki just shook his head as Rosie giggled against his back, her voice soft and sweet.
The girls had long since surrendered the keys to the guys, who herded them into cars with varying degrees of tipsy patience. By the time they pulled into the all-night burger joint, the neon sign buzzing above the parking lot, most of the girls were still giggling and swaying, leaning on their boyfriends for balance as they stumbled inside.
The place was old-school—red leather booths, black-and-white checkered tiles, a jukebox in the corner softly humming a rock ballad from decades ago. They managed to take over three full booths near the back, pushing together tables to accommodate the entire group.
Rosie found herself tucked beside Katsuki, her body warm and loose from the alcohol. She swayed slightly as she sat, her shoulder brushing his arm with every movement, her strawberry lip gloss faintly smudged from earlier.
Across from them, Mina was perched comfortably in Kirishima’s lap, animatedly recounting how she’d managed to convince the bartender at Plum to give them three extra rounds of shots. Izuku and Uraraka sat nearby, holding hands on top of the table as they nodded along, their foreheads nearly touching as they whispered to each other.
Maerya sat beside Shoji at the next booth, chin propped up in her palm as she teased him about how red his ears had turned at the club. Kanako was leaning heavily against Shinso, who smirked and lazily twirled a straw in his water as if nothing could faze him. Jirou and Denki were bickering playfully over who was responsible for losing the group’s bar tab receipt.
The table was alive with chatter—bits of stories, jokes, and half-laughs overlapping each other. Rosie leaned on her hand, letting the noise wash over her as she glanced sideways at Katsuki. He sat stiffly, arms crossed, glowering half-heartedly at the chaos.
“You’re swaying,” he murmured lowly, glancing at her.
She blinked at him, her lips curving into a soft, teasing smile. “Maybe I like swaying…”
“Maybe you’re about to fall over,” he countered, shifting slightly so that if she did tip, she’d land against him.
Rosie giggled softly, leaning her head against his shoulder. “See? Perfectly fine.”
He exhaled through his nose, but didn’t move her.
Across the table, Mina gasped suddenly. “Oh! Did anyone else see Rosie dancing on Katsuki at the club?!”
The booth erupted with laughter and knowing looks, Kirishima nudging Katsuki with his elbow. “Looked like someone was enjoying themselves,” he said with a grin.
Katsuki’s jaw ticked, his arm shifting ever so slightly closer around Rosie. “Shut the hell up, shitty hair,” he muttered, which only made the laughter louder.
Rosie felt warmth flood her cheeks, ducking her head as her fingers traced patterns against the edge of the table. But she couldn’t stop the tiny smile pulling at her lips.
The waitress came by with their drinks and took their orders, and as the table launched into another round of stories about the night, Rosie felt herself relax further. Her head stayed on Katsuki’s shoulder, her eyes fluttering as the chatter and warmth of the booth wrapped around her like a blanket.
The food arrived in loud waves—platters of burgers stacked high with toppings, baskets of golden fries, and milkshakes lined up like an army of sweetness. The entire table erupted into excited chatter, clattering plates and exclamations of “Oh, that looks so good!”
Rosie blinked sleepily at her plate, the smell of the food jolting her senses awake. She reached for a fry, dipped it in her vanilla milkshake, and took a small bite. Katsuki’s sharp gaze didn’t miss a thing.
“Eat more than fries,” he muttered, sliding her burger closer.
“I will,” she mumbled, nibbling another fry with her head tilted toward him, almost unconsciously leaning into the warmth of his presence.
He sighed, unwrapping the burger for her when she fumbled with the paper. He took the liberty of cutting it in half, holding the smaller portion out to her. “Here. Don’t make me shove it in your mouth.”
Rosie bit back a laugh and accepted the burger, her fingertips brushing his as she took it. She smiled softly at him before biting into it, chewing slowly. Katsuki watched as her lashes fluttered at the taste, her small hum of appreciation making his chest tighten.
“That’s better,” he murmured, tearing into his own burger but keeping one eye on her.
Between bites, Rosie went back to her fries, dipping them into her milkshake with a soft giggle. “You know this is a valid flavor combo,” she whispered conspiratorially.
He raised an eyebrow. “It’s disgusting. Eat your damn burger.”
She smirked up at him through her lashes, the soft, pink gloss from earlier faintly glimmering under the diner lights. He had to look away before his thoughts slipped too far.
As the minutes ticked by, Rosie started sobering up, her posture straightening, her laugh softening into small smiles as the night quieted. Around the table, the girls shifted and yawned, their buzz wearing off as they polished off the last of their fries and milkshakes. The guys—ever patient—settled the bill as the group began to trickle out.
By the time they all stood in the cool night air of the parking lot, hugs were being exchanged, and plans were loosely made for the next weekend. Rosie hugged Mina and Maerya tight before turning to Katsuki. He didn’t even need to ask; his gaze alone was enough. “I’ll take you home,” he said simply.
Rosie nodded, and they walked quietly toward his black car parked at the edge of the lot. The distant sound of laughter from their friends faded as they stepped into the shadows cast by the neon diner sign.
“Katsuki,” she said softly, stopping just short of the car.
He turned, his crimson eyes sharp and questioning.
“I’m… sober enough.” Her voice trembled, though her gaze was steady. “You can touch me. If you want to.”
Something in him snapped, in the best way. He didn’t speak—he simply stepped forward and caught her face between his hands, his mouth crashing down onto hers in a kiss that stole every ounce of air from her lungs.
Rosie melted into him, her arms winding around his neck as the heat of his body pressed against her own. He groaned low in his chest, hands sliding down to grasp her ass firmly, lifting her with a fluid, powerful motion until she was perched on the hood of his car.
“Fuck…” he murmured against her mouth, tasting strawberry lip gloss and the faint sweetness of milkshake still lingering on her lips. He deepened the kiss, one hand gripping her waist as the other tangled in her hair, tilting her head back just enough to devour her properly.
Rosie whimpered softly, clinging to him as his tongue swept against hers, his teeth gently tugging at her lower lip before soothing the bite with another kiss. The cool metal of the car beneath her only heightened the heat of his body pressing her down.
“You sure you’re sober enough?” he rasped between kisses, his lips ghosting down the line of her jaw.
“Yes,” she whispered, breathless and flushed. “I… I can’t stop thinking about you.”
He cursed under his breath, kissing her hard again, his hands roaming in deliberate, reverent touches as the world outside their little bubble of heat and need disappeared.
Rosie’s breath caught as Katsuki’s lips trailed down her jaw, searing hot against her flushed skin. She clung to him, fists curled in the fabric of his shirt, her heart hammering wildly. The kiss they shared was already heady and consuming, but now it grew deeper, more desperate, as if they had both been starved for this moment.
“Katsuki,” she whispered, barely audible between ragged breaths.
He growled low in his throat, one hand sliding firmly along her thigh while the other cupped the back of her neck. He pulled back just long enough to look at her, crimson eyes dark and hungry. “You have no fucking idea,” he rasped, voice gravel and smoke, “how hard it is to stop.”
“Then don’t,” she pleaded softly, her voice trembling with want. “Please… don’t stop.”
Something in his expression cracked. He buried his face into the curve of her neck, his teeth grazing her skin before he sank them in just enough to leave a mark. Rosie gasped, arching against him as her fingers threaded through his hair. He soothed the bite with a hot, open-mouthed kiss before moving back up, capturing her lips again in another dizzying kiss.
Every brush of his mouth left her weak, every tug of his teeth and sweep of his tongue sending waves of fire down her spine. The world around them—cars passing, the faint chatter from the diner—disappeared. It was only him. The feel of him, the heat of him, the way his hands held her like she might slip away.
He pulled back, lips brushing hers as he whispered hoarsely, “You looked too damn good tonight for me to just stay away. That dress…” His gaze flicked over her, lingering at every dip and curve accentuated by the silky fabric. “…it’s fucking lethal. You’re lethal.”
Rosie’s face heated, her lips trembling as she tried to catch her breath.
“God, Rosie…” Katsuki’s thumb brushed over the fresh bruise on her neck as his eyes burned into hers. “I can’t stand you walking around in red like that. You… you look so fucking lovely in red.”
Her breath hitched, a shiver racing down her spine at the way he said it. “Katsuki…”
He kissed her again, slower this time, savoring every sound she made, every soft sigh as his lips moved against hers. His hands roamed, mapping every line of her body through the fabric of her dress, making her feel cherished and claimed all at once. She didn’t even realize she was crying until he kissed the tears from the corners of her eyes, murmuring her name like it was the only word he ever wanted to say.
“Katsuki,” she whispered again, breaking the kiss only to draw him back down to her, desperate for the warmth and fire of his mouth.
“Tell me to stop,” he rasped against her lips.
“I won’t,” she whispered fiercely, clutching at his shirt. “I don’t want you to stop.”
He groaned, devouring her mouth again, kissing her like he wanted to memorize the taste of her. “You’re killing me,” he rasped.
Notes:
Okay soooo I couldn't help myself and not write where she is drunk calling him (FaceTime) it's just so them coded at this point it was inevitable that it wouldn't happen now that she is remembering and they are growing closer. I know the angst and slow burn is killing you but trust me when I say that the brick is going to be thrown soon and the stalker will be revealed and this will cause their whole dynamic to change again👌🏻
Anyway, as always lemme know your thoughts and I'll see you in the next one and don't forget to check out my other works, I so write for other fandoms that you might be interested in, if not, that is completely okay💖
Chapter 146: Is it wrong that I want to keep you?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Nursing one of the worst hangovers of her life, Rosie trudged across campus like a reanimated corpse. The morning sun felt offensive —bright and ruthless as it glared down at her, piercing through her oversized sunglasses like a personal vendetta. Her hoodie was pulled over her head, shielding her from the world, though it did little to block the sound of early risers chatting far too cheerfully for a Monday.
Usually she was a morning person, all sunshine and smiles, but not today.
Each step felt like a betrayal. Her legs were heavy, her back ached like she’d been body-slammed into a wall (which, given how hard Katsuki had pressed her against his car last night, might not be far from the truth), and her head pounded in sharp, unforgiving pulses that made her wince every few steps.
“Why did I drink so much? ” she muttered miserably, one hand resting against her stomach as it churned with unease. Even the smell of the coffee cart she passed made her gag a little.
She whimpered, tugging her hoodie tighter around herself as she neared the arts building. Her film history class was on the second floor, which felt like a personal punishment. The paper in her folder was slightly crumpled from the death grip she had on it—her only priority this morning was turning it in before she collapsed somewhere in a pathetic heap.
Her mouth was dry, her skin felt clammy. Her brain felt like it had shrunk and was rattling around in her skull. Every single nerve in her body was screaming, and on top of that, the lingering memory of the night before kept flickering behind her eyes—dancing, kissing, the FaceTime call, Katsuki’s teeth on her neck, his hands on her ass, and—
“Okay,” she groaned aloud, face burning as she tried to shove the memory back into its box. “One problem at a time.”
She leaned against the stairwell wall halfway up, breathing through her nose and praying she wouldn’t puke. Fatigue clung to her like a second skin, dragging her down with every step. It was only the dull, terrifying awareness that her paper was due today that got her to the door of the lecture hall at all.
Rosie shuffled in like a ghost, slid her paper onto the front desk, and then found the darkest, most secluded corner seat she could—flopping down with a barely suppressed moan of pain and regret.
This… this was not her finest hour.
As soon as Rosie stepped out of her film history class, the weight of the fluorescent lights, the droning lecture, and the overwhelming nausea made her feel worse than she thought was humanly possible. The sunlight hit her like a slap to the face again, and she squinted, shielding her eyes as she shuffled toward the library like a battered soldier returning from war.
Her legs ached. Her back was tight. Her migraine had blossomed into a full-blown skull-splitting demon, and her stomach churned with every step. Never again, she promised herself. Never again that many shots, that much dancing, and absolutely no more drunk FaceTimes.
When she reached the library, she spotted Mina and Maerya slumped in the corner of one of the group study tables, looking as equally destroyed as she felt. Maerya was wrapped in a large hoodie with her hair in a tangled bun, one cheek pressed dramatically to the table as she scrolled on her iPad. Mina had an energy drink in one hand and her head resting in the other, groaning quietly as she blinked down at her laptop.
“Oh god,” Rosie mumbled as she flopped into the chair beside them. “We look like we got hit by a truck.”
“We did, ” Mina said without lifting her head. “The truck’s name was tequila and bad decisions.”
“I regret everything,” Maerya croaked. “My bones hurt.”
Rosie snorted, nodding as she pulled out her laptop. “We’re gonna study. We’re gonna survive and then I’m going to sleep for a thousand years.”
The three girls grumbled and whined as they halfheartedly worked through their assignments, occasionally groaning in shared misery or laughing weakly at a half-formed joke. After about an hour of painfully slow productivity, Maerya sat up and stretched with a yawn.
“Okay, I’m calling it. I’m going home to die.”
“Same,” Mina said, immediately closing her laptop. “My brain is soup.”
Rosie waved weakly. “I’m gonna finish my history paper. It’s due tonight. Then I’ll crawl home too.”
They gave her tired goodbyes and trudged off, leaving Rosie alone in the quiet of the library. She worked for another ten minutes, trying to focus—but then a sharp, unmistakable pain shot through her lower back and stabbed into her stomach like a heated blade.
“Oh no,” she whispered, a creeping dread crawling up her spine.
She froze. Her heart sank as the cramping intensified, and she quickly began gathering her things, standing with a wince. She hurried to the closest bathroom, ignoring the way her vision blurred for a second.
In the stall, she realized her worst fear had come true.
She had started her period—and not just that—she had bled through her panties and shorts. Her heart dropped as she stared down, cheeks flushing with embarrassment and frustration.
“ No no no… ” she whispered, tearing into her bag to find something —pads, tampons, anything. She turned it inside out, dug into every pocket, every crevice, but came up empty-handed.
That was the final straw.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she leaned against the stall wall, breathing through her nose as her lip trembled. The pain, the exhaustion, the hangover, the blood, the fact that everyone had already gone home—it was too much.
She sniffled and fumbled for her phone, calling Akira first. It rang, then went to voicemail. “Akira, please…” she mumbled, her voice breaking.
She tried Mina. No answer. Maerya. Nothing.
“God,” she croaked, wiping her face with her sleeve. “Come on .”
Left with no other choice, she scrolled to his name—her thumb hovering for a second before she hit call. He picked up on the second ring. “Hey,” Katsuki’s voice came through.
She choked on a sob, "I'm hurting so bad right now.”
He snapped, instantly alert. “What’s wrong?”
Rosie swallowed thickly. “Are you still on campus?”
“Yeah. What’s going on?”
“I, um—” she pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. “I started my period, I bled through my clothes. I feel sick to my stomach, my head hurts….”
There was a pause. “Where are you?” Katsuki asked immediately, not missing a beat.
“In the library's bathroom on the second floor.”
“I’ll be there soon.”
Rosie sniffled again, holding her phone to her chest and sagging against the stall. For the first time that day, despite everything, a small sense of relief began to bloom in her chest.
Katsuki stood in the feminine hygiene aisle of the campus convenience store like a soldier dropped behind enemy lines with no map, no weapon, and no backup. He’d faced villains with strong quirks and monstrous strength. He’d stared death in the face. But this? This aisle—with its endless pastel boxes, unfamiliar terms, and overwhelming options—this was chaos.
His eyes scanned the shelves, growing more and more agitated. Regular. Super. Super plus. Ultra thin. With wings. Without wings. Overnight.
What the hell did any of it mean?
He grumbled under his breath, fingers twitching toward a purple box before second-guessing and pulling back. Then he spotted another one labeled “organic” and another with “leak protection” and another that promised “comfort for your most sensitive days.”
He gritted his teeth. “Shit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
“Hey,” a woman’s voice said lightly from beside him. “Need some help?”
He turned sharply to find a woman with long red hair, probably early twenties, wearing a name badge that said “Tanya.” She raised a brow with an amused smile.
Katsuki cleared his throat, crossing his arms. As much as he hated to ask for help, especially when it came to his girl, he had no idea what any of this shit meant. “My—uh, friend. She started her period and didn’t have anything. I don’t know what the hell I’m looking for.”
Tanya’s eyes softened with instant sympathy. “Okay. Do you know her flow?”
Katsuki stared. “Her what?”
“How much is she bleeding?” she clarified, tilting her head. “Light? Moderate? Heavy?”
“She called me crying from the bathroom. She bled through her panties and shorts in like, five minutes,” he said, deadpan and blunt as ever.
Tanya nodded like a seasoned general assessing a battlefield. “Okay, that’s a heavy flow. Super plus it is.”
She reached for a black box and handed it to him. “These’ll get her through today.”
He took the box awkwardly, muttering, “Thanks…”
“Follow me,” she said with an efficient wave. “She’s gonna need more than just these.”
Without waiting for confirmation, Tanya marched a few feet over and started pulling items off the shelves: a small pack of unscented wipes, painkillers, a mini heating patch, a chocolate bar, and a bottle of electrolyte water.
Katsuki followed her silently, arms full, growing increasingly humbled by the second.
“She’s probably cramping, right?” Tanya said conversationally. “Snapping at the world? Nauseous? Back pain?”
“She cried on the phone,” he muttered. “Said she had a migraine. Sounded miserable.”
“Yeah, that tracks.” Tanya handed him another small pouch of tea. “Here. She’ll like this.”
He looked down at the collection in his arms. “She’s lucky to have you,” Tanya added with a smile, folding her arms.
“She’s a pain in my ass,” he replied, but there was no venom behind it. Only worry. “But yeah. She’s lucky.”
Tanya’s eyes twinkled. “You’re not half bad yourself, hero.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes but nodded his thanks and headed toward the register with his awkward armload of period supplies, determined to get them to Rosie as fast as possible.
Katsuki burst into the library, walking fast, focused, and completely ignoring the front desk attendant’s startled stare as the door slammed shut behind him. He made a beeline toward the stairs, every stomp of his boots echoing against the marble as he took them two at a time.
The second floor was quiet.
He didn’t hesitate when he reached the women’s bathroom. He glanced down the hall—empty—and shoved the door open anyway, stepping inside and locking it behind him with a hard click . The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly above him as he scanned the room. The last stall door was shut tight.
“Rosie,” he said, his voice low and gruff but edged with concern.
From inside, he heard a soft sniffle. Then her quiet, hoarse voice: “In here.”
He exhaled through his nose and stepped toward the stall, crouching down slightly to make sure it was her. Her shoes—those familiar little white sneakers with pink laces she always wore when she didn’t feel well—peeked out beneath the door.
Without a word, Katsuki handed her the plastic bag, then, from his other hand, he lifted a second bag—a plain brown paper one—and passed it underneath the stall.
“Here,” he muttered.
There was a beat of silence. Then a shaky, breathy, “thank you Katsuki”
“I’ll wait outside the door,” he said before she could say anything else. His voice was still rough. “Take your time.” He turned, gave the door a pat with his hand like he was marking his presence, and added quietly, “You’re okay now. I got you.”
Then he stepped back and leaned against the tiled wall next to the door, arms crossed.
The stall door creaked open slowly.
Rosie stepped out, her face freshly washed but drawn, pale. She wore her a plain pink hoodie, but the black athletic shorts he’d bought her were unmistakable—they clung softly to her thighs, just like the kind she always wore on lazy days. She clutched her backpack in front of her, stuffing the plastic bag and the brown paper one inside without a word. Her hands trembled slightly.
Katsuki stood quietly by the door, arms crossed, watching her with careful eyes. She didn’t look at him right away, just zipped her bag closed and slung it over her shoulder, swaying a little on her feet.
“...You okay now?” he asked, voice low, rough around the edges but uncharacteristically soft.
Rosie finally looked up at him. Her lips were chapped, cracked at the corners. Her cheeks, usually warm with color, were drained. The bags under her eyes were dark, almost bruised, and every few seconds she winced—either from a cramp or the leftover nausea she hadn’t voiced aloud.
She nodded anyway, even though it was the weakest, slowest nod he’d ever seen from her.
He narrowed his eyes. “Have you eaten anything?”
“No…” she murmured, voice so faint it barely counted.
Katsuki sighed through his nose, stepping closer. “Then I’m driving you home. Come on.”
“Okay…” she whispered. “Thank you.”
He moved to her side, carefully brushing her hand as he took her backpack from her—he didn’t ask, just slung it over his shoulder like it was nothing. Then his hand found the small of her back, guiding her gently toward the door. Her steps were slow, uneven. She leaned into him more than she probably realized, and he didn’t say a word about it.
He helped her down the stairs, step by step, like he was afraid she’d tip over—and honestly, she might’ve. She was barely standing upright by the time they reached the exit, and as they stepped out into the warm afternoon sun, she blinked like the light stung her eyes.
When they reached his car, he opened the passenger door for her without a word. He didn’t say anything about how perfectly the shorts fit, or how easily he’d guessed the right size for her panties. It wasn’t the first time he’d bought her clothes, even if she didn’t know it. He’d paid attention—he always paid attention—and if she asked, well… he’d improvise.
For now, all that mattered was getting her home, fed, and getting her to sleep.
The scent of warm food lingered through the apartment—soy, garlic, toasted sesame. Rosie sat curled on the couch in clean cotton shorts and a worn tank top, fresh from the shower, hair wrapped in a towel. Her cheeks were pink from the heat of the water, and her legs were tucked beneath her under a soft throw blanket. The heating pad hummed gently under her lower back, easing the worst of the cramps.
On her lap rested a bowl of warm rice topped with sesame chicken and perfectly steamed broccoli, Katsuki’s usual no-nonsense plating that still somehow looked mouthwatering.
“This is so good,” she mumbled between small bites, voice still groggy but full of comfort. “You’re amazing at this, seriously. It’s like… criminal how good you are at cooking.”
Katsuki didn’t look at her, just grunted a quiet, “Yeah, yeah,” from the spot beside her as he stabbed at his own bowl.
Rosie smiled sleepily, her cheek slightly puffed with food. “Will you stay and watch a movie with me?”
He finally glanced at her. “What kind?”
She shrugged, then winced a little. “Something where nobody dies or gets broken up with or arrested.”
He rolled his eyes but nodded. “Fine.”
They finished their food slowly, the room dimmed, curtains drawn to a lazy afternoon gray. Rosie pushed her empty bowl to the coffee table and curled deeper under the blanket. Her head found Katsuki’s shoulder naturally, like it belonged there. He shifted just enough to let her fit better against him, the side of his hoodie warm and steady beneath her cheek.
The opening credits played softly, the volume turned low. Rosie mumbled something about this being perfect. Katsuki didn’t answer—but his hand rested lightly on her thigh, thumb brushing back and forth in lazy strokes.
She woke up warm, drowsy and full of that floaty ache that came with mid-nap comfort. Her eyes blinked open slowly, vision bleary, adjusting to the daylight still pouring in from her balcony.
Mid-afternoon. The sun had shifted just slightly.
Rosie realized she hadn’t moved at all. She was still tucked under the blanket, only now her face was pressed against Katsuki’s chest. His arms were around her, one looped snugly around her back, the other curled behind her head. He was out cold, breathing slow and deep.
She smiled, barely able to help herself.
Her gaze drifted to the sliding balcony door. Pale light filtered in through sheer curtains. Everything felt still, soft and strangely right.
Last night flashed behind her eyes—her dress clinging to her skin, the feel of his lips on hers, the grip of his hands on her thighs as he lifted her onto the hood of his car. Her fingers had clutched his hair, his shoulders, his jacket. They’d kissed like they couldn’t stop, like they didn’t care who saw.
They almost hadn’t stopped.
If it hadn’t been for Kirishima jogging up to the parking lot, sheepish and apologetic as he handed over her forgotten purse… well.
She let out a small, breathy laugh into Katsuki’s hoodie, grinning like a fool.
He’d come back for her. And now here he was, holding her like something precious while she dozed off her cramps and exhaustion in peace.
Rosie turned her face toward him slightly, eyes drifting over his sleeping face. “Is it wrong that I want to keep you?” she whispered with a sleepy smile, and kissed his chest through the fabric.
Notes:
Sooo that stalker??? Yeah they will be very active pretty soon😩😁
anyways let me know your thoughts and I’ll see you in the next one💖
Chapter 147: Yeah, yeah—just… don’t get pregnant, please.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
An obnoxious alarm shattered the peace like a baseball through a window, jerking Katsuki out of what had felt like a coma. He groaned, barely lifting an arm to slap his hand over his phone, silencing the noise. His eyes were gritty, his limbs heavy—but even through the fog of sleep, he noticed several things all at once.
First, there was weight on top of him. Not crushing, but definite. Second, warmth—soft and subtle, heat blooming along his chest, stomach, and thigh. And third—there was a scent. Something fruity and floral, with the barest trace of Rosie’s shampoo and her skin, warm and sun-soaked from the light pouring in through her balcony.
He blinked up at the ceiling, still half asleep, then glanced down.
Rosie was wrapped around him like ivy. One of her legs was tossed over his hips, her arm tucked against his ribs, her cheek squished against his chest as if she were trying to burrow into him. Her breath came out in soft puffs, lips slightly parted. Her wild hair spilled over both of them like a curtain.
Katsuki’s mouth quirked in the barest smirk. “Clingy little thing, aren’t you?” he murmured under his breath, voice rough with sleep.
He could’ve stayed like that—forever, maybe. Just breathing with her. Feeling the slow rise and fall of her chest against his. But then she stirred.
It started with a soft hum, her body shifting slightly against his. He felt her breath tickle his collarbone, and then she moved her leg, rubbing sleepily against his side. She let out a quiet sigh and blinked slowly, her lashes fluttering as her eyes opened—half-lidded, heavy with drowsiness.
She looked at him, gaze still cloudy with sleep, but fixed on him in that soft, unguarded way that always hit him hard. “Hi,” she whispered, lips parted.
His heart gave a sharp thump.
Her mouth was pink, soft, her voice like velvet against his ribs. Her hand curled into his hoodie like she wanted to hold onto him longer. She blinked again, slower this time, and breathed, “Katsuki…”
Shit.
He swallowed.
Something twisted low in his gut. His hand lifted before he could stop it, fingers brushing her jaw as he tilted her chin up slightly. He kissed her—soft and slow, nothing demanding. Just lips on lips, warm and close. She melted into it like she always did.
Crunch.
They froze.
The sound echoed again.
Crunch. Crunch.
Both of them turned their heads slowly toward the living room. There, in her doorway of the kitchen to the living room, stood Present Mic—hip popped to the side, sunglasses firmly in place, crunching loudly on an apple as he stared at them like they were his favorite morning cartoon.
“I knew you had to be seeing this punk,” he said around the bite of fruit, grinning like the cat who caught two canaries tangled up in his own living room.
Rosie screamed, scrambling upright like she’d been struck by lightning, flailing as she tried to escape the blanket—and promptly tripped over it, crashing forward.
“Shit—Rosie—!” Katsuki lunged to catch her, only to get tangled in the same traitorous blanket.
They both hit the floor with a thump and a groan, landing in a tangled, awkward heap at the feet of a now thoroughly entertained Present Mic.
Rosie, face flushed a furious red, was sprawled on top of Katsuki—her hair a wild curtain around her face and his—while he lay on his back, blinking groggily up at the ceiling, scowling with her elbow jammed into his ribs.
"Ow," he muttered.
"Sorry," Rosie mumbled, mortified, trying to push herself off him without further catastrophe, only managing to knee him lightly in the thigh in the process.
Above them, a crunch sounded again.
“I mean,” Present Mic said, peering down at them with a twitching grin, “don’t stop on my account. You look comfortable.” He took another bite of his apple and chewed slowly, deliberately. “I just came by because your dad’s been blowing up my phone. Said you weren’t answering his calls, hadn’t heard from you since yesterday. He was about five seconds away from calling in a missing persons report.”
Rosie buried her face into Katsuki’s chest with a muffled, drawn-out groan. “Oh my god, of course he did…”
“Figured I’d swing by and check in before he started asking Endeavor for favors,” Mic added. “But clearly, I walked in on something much more entertaining.”
“I’m gonna kill him,” Katsuki muttered darkly, brushing Rosie’s hair back so he could glare at the ceiling more effectively. “Actually kill him. Hero license or not.”
Mic grinned wider and wiggled his eyebrows. “So… you two kids dating or what?”
Rosie immediately shot up—still on top of Katsuki, flailing slightly. “NO! No—what?! We’re not—we’re not dating! ” she said way too quickly, voice squeaking at the end. “We just—ate some food and watched a movie and fell asleep, that’s literally all—”
Katsuki sat up too, less flustered and more exasperated, brushing his hair out of his face. “She passed out on me. It was just sleep.”
Rosie looked at her uncle with pleading eyes, cheeks still burning. “Please, please don’t tell my dad. He’s being so over-the-top lately, and you know how he gets. He’ll probably send a chaperone with me to class or something.”
Mic snorted. “You mean like last month when he tried to convince your history professor to move the class to online because your walk back was ‘too long’?”
Rosie groaned again and flopped back down on Katsuki with a dramatic oof . “ Exactly. ”
Present Mic sucked on his teeth, considering them with a knowing look behind those ever-present shades. “…Alright,” he finally said. “I’ll keep my mouth shut. Strictly between us.”
Rosie blinked up at him hopefully. “Seriously?”
He smirked, chomping into the final bite of his apple, chewing with exaggerated slowness as if savoring every second of their embarrassment. “Seriously. Your dad’s driving me nuts lately too. If I have to hear him say ‘my precious daughter’ one more time, I’m gonna start charging him an emotional labor fee.”
Rosie sagged like a wilted flower, relief flooding her face. “Thank you.”
Present Mic waved a casual hand over his shoulder as he ambled toward the front door, boot heels echoing against the hardwood. “Yeah, yeah—just… don’t get pregnant, please.”
Rosie made a choked, indignant noise. “ UNCLE YAMADA! ”
Katsuki didn’t even bother with words—just raised his hand with a deadpan scowl and flipped him off without breaking eye contact.
Mic cackled. “Love you too, boom boy!” he called over his shoulder. “And hey! Call your dad, Rosie, or he’s gonna bust down the door like a SWAT team! And I better be invited to lunch soon! You owe me tea, and I expect to hear all the juicy details!”
With a final laugh and the door shutting behind him, quiet settled heavily over the apartment again, like the world had just remembered how to breathe.
Rosie was still straddling Katsuki on the floor, both of them disheveled, tangled in the blanket like seaweed, her sleep-tousled hair falling around her face in messy waves. They stared at each other.
Rosie’s face slowly turned the color of a strawberry as she realized where—and how —she was sitting. “I—I should probably move—”
Katsuki, smirking now, raised a brow. “You’re not exactly rushing.”
Her mouth opened with a flustered noise as she pressed her hands lightly against his chest. “You are so —!”
He cut her off with a low chuckle, leaning up slightly as he slid a hand behind her neck, fingers threading into the soft hair at the base of her skull. “Cute when you’re flustered,” he murmured, voice low and warm.
She flushed harder, looking down at him with wide, half-scandalized eyes. “Don’t flirt with me after my uncle just told us not to get pregnant!”
“I wasn’t the one grinding in my sleep,” he shot back with a lazy grin, enjoying the way her face exploded into color.
Rosie shoved at his chest—more like a gentle nudge than anything serious. “ Katsuki! ”
He caught her wrist before she could retreat, tugging her gently back down. “Relax. I’m not starting anything,” he said softly, eyes steady. “Just… didn’t hate waking up like that.”
Her breath hitched. Her hands, still splayed on his chest, trembled just a little. “…Me neither,” she admitted after a beat, her voice quiet.
Rosie leaned back into the plush couch, her body wrapped in the comfort of soft shorts and a tank top, the warmth of the heating pad settled snugly across her lower abdomen. In her hands, she clutched a pink controller, thumbs moving rapidly over the buttons, brow furrowed in deep concentration. Her legs were lazily thrown over Katsuki’s broad shoulders, the soles of her fuzzy socks resting against his chest as he sat on the floor between them, another controller in his hands.
The screen in front of them was chaotic—bright explosions, rapid fire, shouts of character call-outs and damage stats. They were in the heat of a 2v2 match, and neither of them was letting the other win.
“Eat shit, Boom Boy,” Rosie muttered through a grin, eyes locked on the screen as her character slid behind cover, tossed a grenade, and popped up with perfect timing to take out Katsuki’s with a sniper shot straight to the head.
“Son of a—” Katsuki growled, tossing his head back with a scowl.
She cackled. “You walked right into it!”
He didn’t respond at first—just gave a low scoff, then turned his head and pressed a lingering kiss to the inside of her thigh.
Rosie startled. “Hey!”
“What? That was a good shot.” He shrugged, smirking as he returned his focus to the screen. “Gotta reward you somehow.”
She tried to bite back her grin, but failed spectacularly. “That’s not fair. You can’t distract me like that.”
“You’re winning. Shut up and take the praise.”
“ Praise? ” she echoed with a snort. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”
Katsuki chuckled low under his breath, his fingers dancing over the buttons with deadly precision. His eyes narrowed. “Tch. Enjoy your lead while you can.”
Rosie leaned forward, clutching her controller tighter, but not before feeling another kiss graze her skin—so brief and so soft it made her heart flutter despite the adrenaline of the match.
She narrowed her eyes. “Katsuki.”
“Yeah?”
“Keep that up and I’m gonna lose on purpose.”
Katsuki paused, thumb hovering over the joystick as he turned just enough to glance over his shoulder. That cocky smirk was already tugging at the corners of his mouth, dangerous and shameless all at once. “Tempting,” he drawled, eyes flicking briefly to her flushed face and down to where her thighs still rested over his shoulders.
Rosie groaned dramatically, tossing her head back with a laugh and burying her face into the nearest throw pillow to hide the bright grin tugging at her lips. “You’re insufferable,” came her muffled complaint.
“Yeah, yeah.” He snorted and refocused on the screen, but not before shooting her another sideways glance, amused and unmistakably fond.
Still, despite her exaggerated sighs and threats to sabotage her own team, she cracked a smile again when her character landed another headshot clean through a window. She didn’t even have to say anything before Katsuki leaned in again and pressed another kiss—this time slower, lingering—against the soft skin of her inner thigh.
She jolted. “Katsuki—!”
“Nice shot,” he muttered casually, not looking up, like this was a perfectly normal reward system.
Rosie groaned again, arms falling limp beside her. “This is emotional warfare.”
“You’re welcome.”
Their match came to a chaotic end not long after—Rosie emerging victorious by just a few points, and Katsuki pretending not to be annoyed about it. She slumped back into the cushions with a satisfied sigh, the controller slipping from her hands to her lap.
“I’m tired,” she mumbled, blinking slowly. “I think I’m gonna go back to sleep.”
Katsuki stretched with a grunt, rolling his shoulders as he stood. “Yeah, I gotta get goin’ anyway. Got patrol in the morning.”
Rosie sat up, legs dropping off his shoulders, and helped gather the controllers and empty water bottles. “Thanks for staying with me,” she said softly, her voice carrying the kind of quiet gratitude that made his chest ache a little.
He didn’t say anything at first—just gave a gruff little “yeah,” and nudged her shoulder with his as they walked toward the front door. She padded after him sleepily, her steps slow and warm with the kind of tired that felt safe and full.
At the door, Katsuki turned toward her, one hand already on the knob. “You gonna be okay?”
She nodded, eyes half-lidded. “Yeah.”
He hummed and leaned in, pressing a kiss to her lips—soft and slow, just a gentle brush that lingered as his hand found the back of her neck. She melted into it, her hands gripping his hoodie lightly, not wanting him to go just yet.
He pulled back just enough to look at her. “Sleep, dumbass. Call me if you need anything.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Goodnight.”
Rosie watched him leave—watched the way his broad shoulders squared as he disappeared down the hallway and toward the elevator. The door clicked shut softly behind him, and only then did she let out a little sigh, pressing her fingers to her lips and feeling the ghost of his kiss still there.
Notes:
did that just happen? yes. more and more people are going to walk in on these two because they aren’t even trying to hide it at this point anymore😩🤭
lemme know your thoughts and I’ll see you in the next one💖
Chapter 148: You sound like someone who actually believes in love
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The next week passed in a hazy sort of warmth—a rhythm Rosie hadn’t quite grown used to but found herself sinking into all the same. Katsuki had been unusually attentive, always there when she needed something, often before she even realized she did. He’d walk with her to class, carry her bags without her asking, and text her gruff little reminders to eat and drink water if they weren't together. And when they were, when the world finally slowed down around them, he would sit close, hand brushing hers, gaze soft in the corners though his voice remained rough.
In those quiet moments, when the sun filtered through the windows and his fingers curled around hers like it was the most natural thing in the world, Rosie couldn’t help but think back on the stormy path that had led them here. It was dizzying in hindsight. The loud arguments, his hot-and-cold indifference, the push and pull that used to leave her heart aching. One minute he’d be pressing a kiss to her lips like she was the only thing that grounded him, and the next he’d shove her away with a snarl, telling her to leave him alone, to stay out of his way—only for him to show up the next day with that same fire in his eyes, that same quiet desperation clinging to the edges of his voice.
But ever since her uncle caught them tangled up on the couch, something in him had shifted.
He was sweet on her now. Soft-toned and uncharacteristically quiet when they were alone. The kind of quiet that made her cheeks burn and her heart beat too fast. He kissed her like he meant it, like he was memorizing the feel of her mouth, the curve of her neck. His lips had been everywhere—just below her ear, on the top of her shoulder, the corner of her smile. Sometimes she’d feel the ghost of them long after he was gone. His nose brushing against hers, his breath warm against her cheek. She carried the feeling with her like a secret, hidden and golden.
Today, the library was unusually quiet, with only the soft rustling of pages and distant footsteps echoing through the halls.
Rosie sat tucked into one of the cushioned armchairs by the window, her legs curled beneath her and a thick textbook spread across her lap. She wore her favorite oversized hoodie, Katsuki’s, as she scribbled notes in the margins of her notebook. A pair of pastel pink headphones covered her ears, the faint sound of soft lovesick indie music leaking out as she hummed softly to herself, head bobbing lightly to the rhythm.
Beside her, a little Tupperware container of sliced fruit and mixed nuts sat half-eaten. She popped a grape into her mouth without looking up, chewing as she carefully underlined a sentence in yellow and jotted something in her notebook with a small smile.
Her lips still tasted faintly like strawberries and peach from earlier—he had kissed her with a laugh when he stole one from her lunchbox, just before he left for work. The memory lingered like sunshine on her skin and though she was alone in the library now, it didn’t feel like it. Not really. Not when his hoodie still smelled like him, or how her body still remembered the warmth of his palm at the small of her back.
Rosie hummed a little louder, eyes shining, completely unaware of the way her entire expression softened at just the thought of him.
The hum of fluorescent lights above cast a soft buzz over the classroom, blending with the low murmur of students shifting in their seats and tapping pens against their notebooks. Rosie sat toward the middle of the lecture hall, curled up slightly in her chair, a notebook balanced on her thigh and a pen twirling lazily between her fingers.
Professor Lattimore stood at the front of the room, a tall woman with iron-gray hair pulled into a sharp twist, glasses perched low on her nose as she gazed at the class over the rims with a familiar kind of intensity. Her voice was calm but firm, every word clipped with purpose.
“You will be tasked with writing a story that will serve as your final exam,” she said, pacing slowly across the front of the room. “It can be about anything and everything. Fiction, nonfiction, fantasy, historical—whatever sings to your soul. But it must be a story. One that reflects five different themes—grief, joy, love, fear, and growth—and ties into a larger message. Your message. Something that matters.”
A few students groaned softly at the mention of "five different themes." Rosie didn’t. Her gaze was fixed on the professor, thoughtful.
“You’ll have the entire semester to write it,” Lattimore continued. “No excuses. No extensions. This project will account for eighty percent of your final grade. If you fail to turn it in, you fail the class.”
That got everyone's attention. A hush fell across the room as the seriousness of the assignment sank in. Rosie sat a little straighter.
The professor handed out crisp instruction sheets row by row. Rosie accepted hers with both hands, eyes scanning the neat lines of requirements: 50,000 words minimum. A clear arc. Themes must be woven into the narrative naturally, not listed. The message must be evident but not overt. She tucked the paper into her notebook and closed it with a soft snap just as the class was dismissed.
Outside, the hallway buzzed with bodies and chatter, students spilling out with groans about homework and exams, but Rosie walked slowly, her mind already drifting. She hugged her notebook to her chest, weaving through the halls without quite seeing them.
Five themes. Grief. Joy. Love. Fear. Growth.
She moved down the stairs and out the front doors of the building, the autumn air wrapping around her like a blanket—crisp and cool, the wind tugging at the hem of her jacket. She settled herself on a bench tucked beneath a tree whose golden leaves fluttered down like confetti, pulling out the assignment sheet again.
Her pen tapped against the edge.
Grief. Joy. Love. Fear. Growth.
At first, nothing came. Just vague, shapeless concepts. She thought of fantasy stories, science fiction plots, maybe even romance. But none of them stuck. None of them felt real. Her gaze dropped to the footnote on the page:
"A story that means something to you."
Rosie frowned slightly, her fingers tightening around the pen. She stared out into the quad, watching other students laugh and talk as they passed.
And then… the thought came.
Her parents.
Not just in the generic, surface-level way she’d mentioned them in essays before. But really write about them.
About the way her mother used to hum while folding laundry, the soft scent of lilacs always clinging to her sleeves. About the way her father used to burn pancakes when he came to stay with them in the summer, but still insisted on making them. About the soft fights, the tear-stained silences, and a love that was right person, wrong time.
She could write about all of it. The grief of loss—not through death, but through separation and then death. The joy of the little moments in between. The love that lingered. The fear of trying and failing. The growth that had come from stepping out of the wreckage and learning to stand on her own.
It scared her, the idea of being that vulnerable on the page. But maybe that was the point.
Her hand stilled. Then, slowly, she flipped open her notebook and wrote one word across the top of the blank page.
“Inheritance.”
She let the ink settle for a moment, her gaze lingering on the single word written in soft, slanted cursive— Inheritance. Something about it felt right, like the opening of a door she hadn’t been brave enough to step through until now. She leaned back on the bench, the pen still held loosely between her fingers, her lips curving into a small, thoughtful smile as pieces of the story slowly began to weave together in her mind.
“Rosie!” She jolted slightly, snapping her head up just in time to see Mina bounding toward her across the lawn, a flash of bubblegum-pink hair catching the sunlight. She waved enthusiastically, nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet. “We’re heading to lunch, come on!” Mina grinned wide, all teeth and glittery excitement. She pointed toward a cluster of familiar girls waiting near the sidewalk.
Rosie closed her notebook and tucked it back into her backpack with a smile. “Yeah, okay! I’m coming.”
She jogged a few steps to catch up, falling into pace beside Mina as they walked down the path together, winding through campus until the savory scent of broth and spices wafted from a cozy little ramen spot nestled between buildings. The place had mismatched tables, soft lighting, and steamed-up windows, the kind of comforting warmth that made you want to stay for hours.
Inside, the girls gathered around two pushed-together tables in the corner. Ochako was already seated, a bowl of miso ramen in front of her and chopsticks in hand. She perked up the second she saw them. “Oh my god, finally!” she beamed as she leaned over the table. “I’ve been waiting for you guys! I need your help. Wedding planning is so hard. ”
“Didn’y you want a simple wedding?” Mina asked as she settled down.
“His mom basically called dibs on planning everything, and I just—I need backup. She wants a thousand cherry blossoms, I want something simple, and there’s talk of horse-drawn carriages and fireworks—”
Toru gasped and leaned in, barely visible save for her floating gloves. “Fireworks sound kinda amazing though.”
“Only if they don’t catch my dress on fire,” Uraraka sighed, leaning her cheek on her hand as her noodles soaked in the broth. “I want something soft and intimate. Maybe near a lake? Or under a tree? I don’t want a whole stadium watching me cry during vows.”
Tsui blinked slowly from across the table. “You’ll cry no matter where it is.”
“Yeah, but I’d rather cry under a cherry tree than on a jumbotron,” Uraraka deadpanned.
Rosie laughed as she took the last empty seat between Momo and Mina, pulling the menu closer. “Okay, so do we start with venue ideas, or dress inspiration?”
“ Both. ” Uraraka declared, pulling a small notepad from her tote. “I made a spreadsheet and took Mina’s idea of making a mood board and a vision binder.”
Momo let out a quiet laugh, dainty and fond as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. You’re going to be the first one of us to get married—better to start with a bang, right?”
The others chuckled as they dove into their ramen, the steam curling up between them and the soft clatter of chopsticks mixing with the buzz of chatter. Rosie smiled faintly and stirred her noodles in slow circles, her appetite waning despite the savory scent.
This wasn’t how she ever pictured her first experience with wedding planning to be—huddled around a restaurant table, helping her friend make Pinterest boards come to life. Once upon a time, she thought it would be her parents’ wedding she’d help plan first. Then Akira’s, probably. And maybe, someday, her own.
But not like this, not so… distant.
It was baffling—how wrong she had been. How so much could change in what felt like the blink of an eye. Time had slipped through her fingers like sand, relentless and uncaring, dragging everyone forward while she stayed frozen, buried in sleep and unspoken dreams and when she finally woke up, the world had already moved on, left her behind.
There was a sharp bittersweetness to it all. A quiet ache in her chest as she watched her friends—no, not strangers, not anymore—laugh and tease each other like they always had. And yet… she still felt like she was on the outside, her nose pressed against the glass, a ghost in the shape of a girl. She used to belong here, now she was just trying to.
Waking up had been both a curse and a gift.
She was grateful, of course. For being here, for the second chance. But it didn’t mean the loneliness had vanished overnight. There were days where it felt like the only people who really knew her were her Dad, Uncle, Eri and Akira—where the others still felt like shadows of what they used to be, echoing familiarity that hadn’t fully returned.
“—I want to be married before graduation,” Uraraka’s voice broke into her thoughts, bright and decisive.
Rosie blinked, looking up in surprise as the pink-cheeked girl leaned forward over her ramen, eyes lit with a determined gleam.
“I know, I know—it sounds crazy, but I want a short engagement, ” Uraraka continued, looking around at them all. “I want to be married and go on our honeymoon before we graduate next year.”
“Wait— before ?” Mina blinked. “That’s less than a year away!”
“You really don’t want to wait?” Tsui asked, curious.
Uraraka shook her head with a warm little smile. “I already know what I want. I mean, I’ve been in love with him forever. He’s it for me. Why drag it out when we’re already sure? I’ve been dreaming about it since we were second years.”
“I think it’s romantic,” said Toru, resting her chin in her invisible hand. “Going off into the real world as husband and wife—it’s like stepping into a brand-new adventure together. ”
“I already have a vision of the dress I want,” Uraraka continued, her tone dreamy. “And I know I want a lakeside ceremony—maybe somewhere quiet and green, with white lanterns and floating petals in the water. And no DJ—I want a string quartet. Oh! And we’re doing a dessert bar instead of cake. But... I do need help deciding colors, and maybe someone to help convince his mom to not order a live band and fireworks.”
The table burst into laughter again, Mina nearly snorting broth.
Rosie’s smile deepened, the ache in her chest softening a little. Maybe she wasn’t exactly who she used to be—but she was still here. They were still here. And somewhere between old memories and new beginnings, she was finding her way back to them.
“Count me in,” Rosie said softly, reaching for her chopsticks again. “Whatever you need.”
Uraraka’s eyes lit up. “Really?! Oh thank you, I knew you’d have good taste!”
Rosie smiled, the warmth settling in her bones as the conversation swirled around her again. And this time, she didn’t feel quite so much like a ghost as she had in the past.
With a soft sigh, Rosie set her keys on the counter and dumped the stack of wedding magazines onto the kitchen island, the glossy covers fanning out in a chaotic rainbow of white gowns, pastel florals, and smiling brides. A few brochures slid off the edge and fluttered to the floor, but she didn’t bother picking them up right away.
Her shoulders sagged under the invisible weight of tulle, seating charts, and color palettes.
Between classes, work, and helping Uraraka plan her dream wedding, Rosie was running on caffeine and determination. She had no idea just how involved wedding planning actually was—not until she found herself juggling venue options, tasting mock cake samples, comparing styles of calligraphy for invitations, and debating the ethics of hiring doves for a symbolic release.
It was fun—when it wasn’t completely overwhelming. She loved being included, loved seeing Uraraka’s face light up with every little decision that brought her closer to her big day. But Rosie was learning firsthand that love might be simple, but weddings were anything but.
“Okay, no more decisions today,” she muttered to herself, pushing the magazines aside and grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl.
A gentle yelp sounded behind her.
She turned and smiled, seeing Maya sitting with her tail wagging in ernest. “Hungry, huh?” Rosie cooed.
Maya made a soft yip of agreement.
She fetched Maya’s favorite wet food from the cupboard and filled her dish, watching as she ate. Rosie rubbed a finger along Maya’s head and then made her way to the couch, collapsing face-first into the cushions with a muffled groan. “Twenty-minute nap,” she mumbled into the fabric, already drifting.
She didn’t know how long she was asleep—just that her phone blared to life on the coffee table, vibrating insistently with a familiar ringtone. Still groggy, Rosie blinked awake and swiped to answer. “Hello?”
“Rosie?” came Varsas’ voice, thin and trembling.
Rosie immediately sat up straighter, her heart catching in her throat. “Varsas? What’s wrong?”
There was a long pause, then a sniffle. “I… I just really need a friend right now. Do you think… do you think you could meet me somewhere? Silven’s, maybe?”
“I’m already on my way,” Rosie said without hesitation.
Silven’s was quiet that afternoon, the warm golden light pouring through the windows in soft streaks across the tile floor. Rosie spotted her the moment she walked in—Varsas was sitting in the corner booth, hunched over with her hands around a large glass of beer, her shoulders trembling slightly as she tried to blink away tears that wouldn’t stop falling.
Rosie’s heart clenched. She made her way over without a word, sliding into the booth beside her and wrapping an arm gently around her back.
Varsas leaned into the contact almost immediately, eyes puffy and red as she whispered, “I think he’s seeing someone else.”
Rosie’s expression softened as she gently rubbed her back, letting her cry for a few moments before quietly asking, “I didn’t realize you had a boyfriend. What happened?”
“It’s a secret, really down low since he is a pro but he’s always gone now,” Varsas whispered. “Barely texts me. And when he does, it’s like—little things. One-liners. Sorry I’m busy. Sorry I can’t make it tonight. But he never calls. He cancels our dates constantly, and every time, he sends me flowers like it makes up for it. But it doesn’t. Not when he always smells like someone else’s perfume.”
Rosie’s jaw tensed, but her touch remained gentle as she said softly, “I’m so sorry.”
Varsas shook her head, voice cracking. “I just… I didn’t want to believe it. I thought maybe I was overthinking. That I was just being clingy. But he’s changed, Rosie. And I don’t even know if he realizes how much he’s hurting me.”
“You’re not being clingy,” Rosie said firmly. “You’re being honest about how you feel and that matters.”
She reached over and gently dabbed a napkin under Varsas’ eye.
“You deserve someone who doesn’t just say sorry—you deserve someone who shows you that they want to be with you. Who doesn’t make you feel like you’re chasing after them.”
Varsas hiccuped through a half-laugh, brushing her hair behind her ear. “You sound like someone who actually believes in love.”
Rosie smiled, a little sad, a little hopeful. “I still do. Even when it’s messy, especially when it’s messy. ” She squeezed her friend’s hand. “Whatever happens with him, I’ve got you. We all do. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
And for the first time since the tears started, Varsas smiled back. Weak, but real. “…Thank you.”
Notes:
I hope you guys enjoy💖 lemme know your thoughts and I will see you in the next one👌🏻
Chapter 149: Cute panties…They’d look better in my pocket
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Try this one on!” Uraraka chirped, practically vibrating with excitement as she thrust yet another dress—this time a soft blush pink number with flowing chiffon layers—into Tsui’s arms.
Tsuyu blinked slowly at the frilly thing, then glanced at the steadily growing pile of rejected dresses in her arms with her usual, unruffled expression. “This is the fifth one, Ochako.”
“And it might be the one! ” Uraraka beamed as she gently but firmly nudged her friend toward the dressing rooms. “You have to try it.”
Rosie watched the exchange with a quiet laugh, holding a lavender-colored mocktail in one hand and a hanger with a champagne-toned dress in the other. Saturday morning had started earlier than usual—Uraraka had practically bounced out of bed texting the group chat with “BRIDESMAID DRESS DAY!” in all caps, complete with confetti and heart emojis.
Rosie hadn’t originally planned to spend her weekend that way—she had homework, laundry, and about a dozen pages of her creative writing story to draft—but she couldn’t bring herself to say no. Not when Uraraka’s joy was so infectious. And honestly… it was nice. The boutique was airy and warm, full of soft light and racks of dresses in every shade of pastel imaginable.
They’d met for brunch first, croissants, omelets, and bottomless mimosas, and spent over an hour laughing over wedding horror stories, Pinterest dreams, and whether or not Izuku was going to cry the moment Uraraka walked down the aisle or the morning of. The general consensus: yes. Absolutely. Waterworks.
Now they were spread out through the bridal boutique, dresses draped over their arms, chatter echoing softly between the curtained stalls. Toru was trying on something sparkly and posing dramatically in front of the full-length mirror while Momo offered quiet but precise opinions on fabric types and silhouette structure. Mina was loudly vetoing anything with sleeves (“We’re not nuns, Ochako!”), and said woman flitted between them all like a hummingbird, her cheeks permanently pink with excitement.
Rosie leaned against a plush chair, letting herself soak in the chaos and warmth. This wasn’t how she’d imagined her Saturdays a year ago. It felt good though, really, really good.
She smiled to herself and glanced down at the dress in her hand.
It was sometime between Tsui emerging from the dressing room in a dusky rose off-shoulder gown and Jirou twirling in a jewel purple tulle dress that Ochako made the official declaration.
“Okay! I’ve decided! My wedding colors are gonna be shades of pink and purple!” she announced, standing in the center of the boutique with her arms flung out like a general leading a glamorous charge.
Everyone paused mid-conversation, hanger, or hair-fixing to turn toward her.
“To go with green for Izuku, of course,” she added with a sheepish, dreamy grin, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “He asked me what my theme was and I couldn’t decide but now I know . It’s perfect!”
It was perfect. And somehow, very them . Soft romantic hues for her, roses, lilacs, blush tones, and shades of forest and jade to match Izuku’s requested colors.
“Pink and purple? I love that!” Mina squealed, throwing her arms up and nearly knocking a rack of dresses off-balance. “You’re gonna look like a magical fairy queen with your green hero prince.”
Ochako flushed and did a little twirl of her own.
“Then we’re trying on every dress in those colors until we find the right ones,” Momo said with an approving smile, rolling up her sleeves slightly like she was preparing for battle.
What followed was an all-out bridal boutique blitz.
The dressing rooms became a revolving door of chiffon, silk, satin, and sparkles. Lavender, mauve, blush, fuchsia, periwinkle, and soft wine hues flew on and off hangers. Toru kept giving dramatic runway spins, earning claps every time. Mina found a magenta halter dress with a high slit and declared it “the one” with a wink and finger guns. Tsui settled on a soft violet A-line with subtle floral embroidery that made her smile faintly in the mirror.
Rosie took her time slipping into dresses before she finally she found the one. The moment she stepped out, all of them gasped.
“Rosie,” Uraraka said softly, hand over her chest. “That’s the one.”
“Damn right it is,” Mina added with a thumbs-up.
She flushed under the attention but couldn’t stop smiling.
After all the laughter, posing, and endless twirls, they each made their selections—six dresses in total, carefully tagged for alteration. They’d be ready in a couple of weeks, just in time for spring pre-wedding photos.
And naturally, after surviving that whirlwind?
Cake tasting was next.
They migrated to a nearby bakery Uraraka had bookmarked weeks ago—a quaint place called Sugar Garden , all pastel walls and whimsical decor. The display case was lined with towering cakes and tiny floral confections, and the smell of buttercream and vanilla was almost overwhelming.
The owner, a sunny woman with flour dusted on her apron, led them to a private tasting table where they were presented with trays of delicate cake slices and a rainbow of frosting options.
“Okay okay okay, we have to start with strawberry champagne!” Ochako squealed, reaching for the tiny silver fork.
Mina moaned dramatically after one bite. “I’m marrying this cake.”
Rosie couldn’t stop giggling, licking a bit of lemon buttercream off her finger. “This is like... top ten girl days ever.”
“I like the lavender honey one,” Jirou said quietly, her plate already neatly arranged with three other slices.
They debated each flavor like it was a matter of national security, trying combinations and arguing over fruit fillings vs ganache. Momo kept notes. Toru kept sneakily swiping extra frosting. At one point, they tried to recreate their dresses in frosting colors, laughing so hard they nearly choked on their forks.
It was chaos. Sweet, sugar-filled chaos. And Rosie couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so light, so completely full—not just of cake, but of warmth.
They had just finished their last set of the evening, sweat clinging to their skin beneath the stage lights as they hurried off into the dressing room backstage, giggling and flushed from the adrenaline. Rosie didn’t hesitate to strip off her glittering uniform, already tugging on the drawstring of her favorite gray sweats and pulling a long-sleeved shirt over her head.
She was halfway through tying her hair up when she heard her name.
“Rosie…” The soft, broken whisper made her pause immediately.
She turned. Varsas stood near the bench, still in costume, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her eyes were glassy, cheeks pink and splotchy, and her bottom lip trembled as she tried—unsuccessfully—to keep herself from crying.
“What’s wrong?” Rosie asked, already stepping closer, her voice gentle but full of worry.
Varsas blinked rapidly, but the tears spilled anyway, trailing down her cheeks. “He cancelled on me again.”
Her voice cracked on the last word.
Rosie’s chest squeezed tight. Without hesitation, she crossed the distance and wrapped her arms around her friend, pulling her in close as Varsas sobbed quietly into her shoulder. She rubbed her back slowly, soothingly, one hand gently stroking her hair.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “You don’t deserve that.”
“He said he’d make time tonight,” Varsas choked out, “but then he just texted that something ‘came up’ again. He didn’t even call. Just another apology. I—I really thought he was different.”
Rosie just held her tighter, letting her cry. No words would make it better, not right now. All she could do was be present, be steady. She felt Varsas lean more of her weight into her, burying her face against Rosie’s collarbone.
“Hey,” Rosie murmured softly after a few moments. “Why don’t you come stay the night with me?”
Varsas pulled back slightly, brows furrowing. “What?”
“We’ll hang out,” Rosie said, brushing some damp strands of hair from her friend’s face. “I’ll make popcorn, we’ll put on some trashy romcoms, and you can wear my softest pajamas. No boyfriends, no texting—just us being dramatic, emotional and eating too many carbs.”
For the first time since they came off stage, Varsas smiled—small and watery, but real. “You’d really let me crash?”
“Of course,” Rosie said without hesitation. “Always.”
Varsas sniffled, nodding slowly. “Thanks, Rosie. Seriously. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Rosie just gave her another quick squeeze. “You’ll never have to find out.”
With that, Varsas stepped back, wiping her eyes again with the sleeve of her jacket, and gave a shaky laugh. “Okay. Let me just go change and grab my stuff.”
Rosie nodded, already picking up her own duffel bag, glancing back at her friend with a quiet but warm smile. “I’ll wait for you outside. We’ll stop for snacks on the way too.”
Varsas disappeared into the changing stalls, her posture still a little slumped but her expression far lighter than before.
The soft hum of the city night was broken only by the occasional honk or distant chatter below. Rosie sat curled on the balcony loveseat, knees drawn to her chest, an oversized t-shirt hanging lazily off one shoulder. The hem barely reached the tops of her thighs, exposing the bare length of her legs, but the late summer air was warm, comforting. Her phone glowed in her hands, the screen lighting up her face in the dim as her thumbs flew over the keyboard.
Pomchi: Just got off patrol. Finally heading back to crash.
She bit her lip, smiling down at the ridiculous name in her messages. “Pomchi.” She couldn’t really remember when or why she started calling Katsuki that, but it had stuck. Maybe it was the hair or the attitude. He bristled every time she said it aloud, but he never changed it back.
Rosie: Still can’t believe you let me rename you that.
Pomchi: Didn’t LET you. You just never stopped.
She giggled softly under her breath, a breeze brushing through her hair. Behind her, inside the apartment, the muffled sound of soft snoring came from the couch. Varsas had finally cried herself out after two glasses of wine and half a bottle of rosé, now bundled up in one of Rosie’s blankets with tissues scattered around her like confetti.
Rosie peeked through the sliding door at her sleeping friend, fondness flickering in her chest, then turned back to her phone.
Rosie: She is snoring. Like…honking levels of snoring. I may never recover.
Pomchi: You always were dramatic.
Rosie: Says the guy who sets everything on fire.
Pomchi: That’s called talent.
She was typing out a comeback, something about his “explosive” personality, when a sudden BOOM rocked the air around her.
Rosie jolted, head snapping up. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she instinctively ducked slightly, the aftermath of the sound still buzzing in her ears. Before she could fully react, a sharp gust of wind swept over the balcony—and there he was.
Standing atop her railing like it was the most natural thing in the world, was Katsuki Bakugou, in full hero gear, mask pulled back off his face and ash-blond hair tousled from the night’s patrol. He was bathed in the moonlight glow of the balcony light, smirking down at her with that cocky glint in his eyes. “Hey doll.”
Rosie blinked, mouth parted slightly in surprise as she stared up at him. And then—her lips curved. “Katsuki,” she said fondly, a smile breaking across her face. “Or should I say Pomchi.”
He snorted as he jumped down from the railing with practiced ease, heavy boots hitting the concrete with a soft thud. “Seriously, still with that name?”
She shrugged, unfazed. “You answered to it, didn’t you?”
“Tch.” He rolled his eyes, but the smirk never faded.
Rosie leaned back slightly on her hands, watching him as he walked toward her. “So… patrol ended and you just decided to blow up my sky to make an entrance?”
“Had a shortcut.”
“Through the air ?”
He leaned in slightly, eyes narrowing playfully. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“For what?”
“Blessing you with my presence, doll.”
She laughed, tilting her head. “You’re so humble, Pomchi.”
“Keep calling me that and I’ll throw you over the railing.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she teased, eyes sparkling.
Katsuki’s gaze lingered for a moment, flicking down to her bare legs, then back to her face. His smirk softened just slightly. “Nah,” he said, voice dropping low. “You’re too damn cute like this.”
Heat bloomed in Rosie’s cheeks, but she didn’t look away.
Behind them, Varsas let out a particularly loud snore.
Katsuki’s brow twitched. “Is that her?”
“Yup.” Rosie winced slightly. “She’s… grieving a boy. She passed out on my couch.”
“Poor girl.” Katsuki leaned against the balcony railing beside her, arms crossed loosely, the city lights catching in the sharp lines of his hero gear. “She’ll get over it. They always do.”
His voice was even, almost indifferent, but there was something in the way he said it—too measured. Like it wasn’t just some blanket statement and instead was more personal.
Rosie turned slightly to look at him, her brows knitting gently as she studied his profile. The breeze tousled his ash-blond hair, and the glow from the balcony light softened the edge of his jaw, casting a warm amber halo over his skin. “You say that like you have experience,” she said quietly, the words featherlight.
Katsuki didn’t answer at first. His jaw ticked, and his eyes flicked downward, something unreadable swirled in their crimson-gold depths. He looked like he wanted to say something… but couldn’t.
He swallowed—slow and thick. “Hard to explain,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Rosie didn’t push, didn’t prod or press for confessions he wasn’t ready to give. Instead, she moved—softly, gently—like she was floating through the air. She stepped into his space, into the heat of him, and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek into his chest.
Katsuki didn’t hesitate. His arms came around her immediately, one strong hand resting at her lower back, the other cradling the back of her head. He pulled her in tight, like he was scared she’d slip through his fingers if he didn’t hold her close enough. He buried his face into her hair and inhaled slowly, the tension in his chest melting as he exhaled.
Rosie closed her eyes, listening to the steady thud of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. She never understood why it felt so natural to be there with him—why her body always molded to his like a puzzle piece, like coming home. “You’re warm,” she whispered, voice small against his shirt.
“‘Cause I’m alive, dumbass,” he murmured into her hair, but his tone was soft, teasing.
She smiled against his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his gear.
He shifted then, pulling back just enough to look down at her, and their eyes locked. There was something warm, soft, and golden between them—something unspoken and honest. His hand came up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear, and when she tilted her chin up, he leaned in.
The kiss was slow, unhurried. Not rushed or wild, but deep and syrupy sweet, like honey. Like he had all the time in the world to kiss her properly. Like he’d wanted to do this for longer than he’d admit.
She melted into him, sighing against his lips, her fingers tangling in the collar of his gear. His nose bumped against hers in a soft nuzzle as he pulled back slightly, only to kiss her again, this time gentler—on her forehead, her temple, her jaw. Then finally, a kiss to the very tip of her nose.
She giggled and shivered, the breeze nipping at her bare thighs.
He smirked. “Get your ass back inside before you catch a cold, idiot.”
“You’re the one standing out here in a sleeveless suit,” she quipped, stepping back slightly, arms still looped around his waist.
“Built different,” he said smugly, but his eyes crinkled with warmth.
She rolled her eyes fondly. “You still coming over for lunch tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
Rosie beamed at him, the kind of smile that made her eyes light up like fairy lights. She leaned up on her toes and kissed the corner of his mouth, soft and sweet. But as she turned to walk back inside, he landed a quick, playful smack to her ass.
She squeaked, whipping her head around to glare at him. “Katsuki!”
He just stood there with a shit-eating grin. “Cute panties,” he said, eyes deliberately dipping to her legs. “They’d look better in my pocket.”
Her jaw dropped as a flush crawled up her neck. “You—!”
With a yelp, she rushed inside, hiding her face behind her phone as she slid the door shut with a huff.
Outside, Katsuki chuckled to himself, satisfied. Damn right they’d look better in his pocket.
Rosie hummed softly, a gentle melody vibrating in her throat as she laid curled in Katsuki’s arms, her body half-draped over him. His arm was tucked around her waist, warm and steady, fingers idly brushing over the curve of her hip as the soft flicker of the TV lit the room in blues and golds.
The movie playing was something neither of them had been particularly invested in—some generic rom-com that had faded into background noise. What mattered more was the rare pocket of quiet between their chaotic schedules. She wasn’t even really watching it. She just liked the way he felt—solid beneath her, chest rising and falling with every breath, his scent lingering in her hair, grounding her. Being in his arms, safe and still and wanted, was enough.
Katsuki let out a low sigh and adjusted the blanket over them. She felt the rumble of it through his chest, and it made her smile.
She traced lazy shapes on his shirt with her fingertip. “Uraraka finally picked the venue. Something by the coast, real pretty with this open garden thing. Momo and I are helping with the table setups tomorrow—thank God for Pinterest.”
He grunted softly, his thumb still gliding back and forth against her waist. “Sounds like a pain in the ass.”
Rosie giggled. “It kinda is. But… it’s fun too. I never thought I’d get to help plan a wedding with friends, you know? Kinda thought I’d miss that stuff.”
Katsuki didn’t say anything, but the arm around her squeezed just a little tighter, like he knew exactly what she meant.
She tilted her head to glance up at him. “Work’s been hectic though… long hours, short tempers. It’s just—” She sighed, letting her head fall back against his chest. “I’ve been thinking about quitting.”
That got his attention. His brow furrowed as he looked down at her. “Yeah? Why the hell would you do that?”
She hesitated, chewing her bottom lip. “I don’t know. I think—I think I stopped liking what I was doing. Or maybe I never really liked it to begin with. It’s just… I don’t understand why I quit working at Ishlamare. I know that it was when I lost my memories but lately, I’ve been wondering why I would quit being a barista to work as a dancer.”
Katsuki rubbed his hand slowly along her side, listening.
“I loved that job,” she continued, voice quieter now. “I loved the smell of coffee, the early morning rush, the regulars who came in just for my latte art. Being a barista wasn’t glamorous or anything, but it made me happy. And I miss it. I miss the way it made me feel.”
“You were good at it,” Katsuki said after a pause. “You’d always smell like sugar and espresso. You used to hum coming into class with it.”
Her chest tightened at that.
He nudged her gently with his chin. “So go back. Screw what anyone thinks. If it makes you happy, do it.”
She blinked up at him, caught off guard by how simply he said it. Like it wasn’t a complicated thing at all. Like it was allowed to be easy.
Rosie gave a small, crooked smile and leaned up to kiss his jaw. “Thanks, Pomchi.”
He groaned. “Don’t call me that.”
She just laughed, snuggling closer. “Never changing it. It’s perfect.”
“Ridiculous,” he muttered, but the warmth in his voice betrayed him. He kissed the top of her head like she was something precious. Like maybe, just maybe, he liked the name too.
Notes:
It’s going to happen…what? you guys will have to wait and find out but I promise you…it’s chefs kiss😘💋
anyway, lemme know your thoughts and I’ll see you in the next one👌🏻
Chapter 150: Ladies and gentlemen, our radiant ruby—Rosie!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“You want to quit?” Miyaki’s voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge of surprise beneath it as she glanced up from the paperwork spread across her glass-topped desk.
Rosie stood just beyond the desk, hands clasped in front of her, shoulders slightly tense. The office of Ignis Inferno was sleek and modern—obsidian countertops, crimson accents, and soft jazz humming from hidden speakers—but at that moment, it felt stifling. Like the walls were closing in on her decision.
She offered a small, apologetic smile. “Yeah… I do.”
Miyaki leaned back in her leather chair, folding her arms. “That’s… unexpected. I assumed you were settling in just fine. I’ve never had a complaint about your work, Rosie. You’re one of our most reliable dancers and waitresses.”
Rosie felt the compliment like a gentle pang in her chest. “Thank you,” she said softly, voice honest. “I’ve really appreciated working here, I truly do love it here.”
“Then what’s changed?” Miyaki asked, her expression thoughtful now. Not angry. Just curious. “Is it the hours? Management? A coworker?”
Rosie shook her head quickly. “No, none of that. It’s not the job itself. The team’s amazing, and I’ve learned a lot since I started here. It’s a special job and truly it’s been amazing…but…”
She took a breath, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.
“I miss being a barista,” she confessed, voice quieter but steady. “I miss the early mornings, the clink of cups, the smell of espresso and steamed milk. I miss the rhythm of it. Talking to customers. Making the perfect pour. I know it might sound silly, but it made me feel grounded—happy. And I didn’t realize just how much I missed that until recently.”
Miyaki tilted her head slightly, studying her with a practiced eye. “That doesn’t sound silly at all.”
Rosie blinked in surprise.
Miyaki smiled faintly, her expression softening. “Passion isn’t always flashy. It’s not always about climbing ladders or big paychecks. Sometimes it’s about knowing what keeps your heart steady. If that’s what being a barista is for you, then you’re making the right call.”
Rosie exhaled, shoulders dropping in relief. “Thank you for understanding.”
“I’m disappointed to lose you,” Miyaki said sincerely, rising from her seat and extending her hand, “but I’m glad you figured out what you want.”
Rosie shook her hand with a firm grip and a genuine smile. “Me too.”
“I hate to ask this of you but would you work this one last weekend before I give you your final paycheck?”
“Yes of course!” Rosie smiled
The soft hum of conversation and clinking mugs filled the café as Rosie sat across from her uncle, a large iced coffee in her hands. The whipped cream was already half-melted, and she kept sipping it just to avoid his gaze. Her cheeks were pink, and she tried to look casual, though nothing about her posture suggested that.
Uncle Hizashi leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and an infuriatingly knowing smirk playing across his lips. He looked far too smug for someone sipping a green tea with honey. “So…” he began, drawing out the word as he tapped his fingers against the ceramic mug. “Come on, tell me the juicy details.”
Rosie nearly choked on her drink. “Oh my god, Uncl—”
He raised a brow. “You said you wanted to talk, and your text said, and I quote: ‘I need to talk about Katsuki but you can’t make it weird.’ That’s an invitation. I'm being mild.”
She covered her face with one hand, muttering into her palm, “I honestly don’t even know where to start…”
Hizashi leaned forward, expression softening beneath the teasing. “Start with how it makes you feel. That’s always the best place.”
Rosie inhaled, slow and shallow. “It’s just… complicated.”
He nodded, encouraging her silently as she fidgeted with her straw.
“We’ve been… seeing each other more,” she said carefully, choosing her words with precision. “Spending time together. Talking. Kissing. That kind of thing.”
Hizashi raised both brows, waiting for her to continue. She didn’t.
“But I’m not giving you any explicit details, so stop waiting for them,” she said quickly, pointing her straw at him.
He grinned, raising his hands. “I wasn’t gonna ask! I respect boundaries plus I don’t need to know if you guys have fallen into bed. You’re still my niece.”
She laughed despite herself, grateful for how easy he made it to relax.
“It’s not the physical stuff that’s confusing,” she said after a pause, stirring the ice with her straw. “It’s… him. Us. One minute he’s kissing me like I’m the only thing that matters and the next he’s pushing me away. He can be so kind—thoughtful, even—and then suddenly he’s cold and distant again. And I just… I second-guess myself constantly.”
Hizashi’s smile faded, replaced by a thoughtful expression. “He’s not great with emotions, that much I know.”
“I figured,” she muttered.
There was a moment of silence before he leaned his elbows on the table, voice gentler now. “You know… when he was a first-year at UA, I thought he was nothing more than a loud, snot-nosed punk with a bad attitude and too much energy.”
Rosie blinked. “Seriously?”
“Oh yeah,” he nodded, chuckling. “People didn’t take him seriously and just a bully. While it was undeniable that he was powerful and intelligent, he lacked emotional intelligence but he hid it well.”
She sipped her coffee, watching him closely now.
“Confidence?” he continued. “Takes a long time to grow into. Katsuki had a lot of pressure on him from day one, most of it was self-inflicted. You know the type—pride stitched into every step he takes, but that’s not always the same thing as self-assurance.”
Rosie nodded slowly. “So you think… he’s scared?”
“I think he’s still figuring out how to let someone care about him without feeling like he’s losing control.” Hizashi smiled softly. “That’s not an excuse, but it is an explanation. You get to decide how much patience you want to give that process.”
Rosie looked down at her cup again, thoughts swirling like the melting cream inside. “I just wish I knew where we stood.”
“You will,” he said gently. “People like Katsuki… it takes them a while, but once they’re in, they’re all in. He’s just gotta stop being afraid of his own damn heart first.”
She sighed, leaning back in her seat. “That might take forever.”
He chuckled. “Maybe. But from the way you’re talking about him? Sounds like you’re willing to wait a little while longer.”
She smiled quietly into her drink. “Yeah… maybe I am.”
Hizashi took a long sip from his tea, eyeing her over the rim of the mug with a subtle curiosity. “So,” he said, setting it down with a small clink, “you thinking about telling your dad?”
Rosie groaned immediately, slumping back in her chair and dragging both hands over her face like the question physically pained her. “Ugh. Don’t remind me.”
Hizashi snorted. “That bad?”
She peeked at him through her fingers. “It’s just—he’s so weird about it.”
He raised a brow.
“I mean, first, it was all, ‘No dating until I’m dead’, and ‘Focus on what you want in life’, and now it’s like—‘Why don’t you try putting yourself out there? Go on a date. Be normal.’ Like he can’t make up his mind.”
Hizashi laughed under his breath. “Yeah, sorry kiddo, I’m not sure what your Dad is thinking.”
“I don’t even know how to approach the topic anymore. Like, hey Dad, remember how you didn’t want me dating? Especially Katsuki? Well, I have been, kind of, with someone you sort of like, sort of don’t like, and who has a record of yelling a lot and blowing things up. Surprise!”
Hizashi leaned his cheek into his hand, grinning. “I think if anyone could manage to horrify Shouta with just a few sentences, it’s definitely you.”
She groaned again, dragging her straw around in her mostly-empty iced coffee. “It’s just—what if he freaks out? Like not in the angry way, but the Dad way. The silent stare, the judgmental silence. The slow sip of coffee like he’s silently questioning all my life choices.”
“Ah yes,” Hizashi said with mock gravity. “The Classic Aizawa Disappointment Glare. I’m well-acquainted with that one.”
Rosie laughed despite herself, shaking her head. “I want to be honest with him, but I also don’t want to ruin whatever tentative… thing I’ve got going with Katsuki by bringing Dad into it too soon.”
Hizashi tilted his head, his tone a little more serious now. “You afraid your dad’s opinion will change how you feel?”
“No,” she said quickly, then paused. “I’m afraid it’ll change how Katsuki feels or how Dad looks at me.”
Hizashi was quiet for a second, then reached across the table to nudge her hand gently. “You know your dad. He’s intense, yeah, but he’s not unkind and he trusts you. If Katsuki treats you right, Shouta’ll come around.”
Rosie sighed. “Yeah. I guess.”
“But,” he added with a cheeky grin, “please, for my sake, let me be in the room when you tell him. I just want to see his face.”
“Uncle!” she cried, laughing and smacking his hand.
“I’m serious! I’ll bring popcorn!”
She shook her head, still laughing. “You’re impossible.”
He just raised his cup. “And yet, here we are kiddo.”
Maerya was curled up on one end of the couch, sipping on a taro boba with extra tapioca, her shoes kicked off and her legs tucked beneath her. Rosie sat opposite her, cradling her own drink—strawberry matcha, her new go-to—stirring the ice around lazily with her straw as they relaxed in the late afternoon glow coming in through the windows.
There was music playing faintly from Rosie’s speaker docked on the coffee table. Maya was snoring lightly from her perch by the window.
“So,” Maerya began, wiggling her brows playfully as she shifted to face Rosie, “how are things going with Mr. Growly Hero Boy Who is Basically your Boyfriend?”
Rosie huffed a laugh and leaned back against the couch cushions, already blushing a little. “Oh my god. Where do I even start…”
“Oh no,” Maerya gasped, her eyes widening with excitement as she leaned forward like she was being handed gossip on a silver platter. “That juicy?”
“My uncle walked in on us.”
Maerya choked on her boba. “What?”
Rosie grimaced, laughing despite herself. “We fell asleep watching a movie. Nothing happened—we were just sleeping. And we woke up the next morning and there was Uncle. Just… standing there.”
“No.”
“Yup.”
“No!”
“Eating an apple. Like casually munching on it and watching us. Didn’t say a word until Katsuki sat up and swore like a sailor.”
Maerya clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide in delighted horror. “Rosie. You’re kidding me.”
“I wish,” she groaned, face flushed. “He just smiled and said, ‘Don’t get pregnant,’ and walked out.”
“Oh my god, that man is chaotic. I love him.”
“He’s the worst. And now he’s asking questions. Like… full uncle interrogation mode.”
Maerya snorted into her drink. “God, that’s gold.”
Rosie took another sip of her boba, lips quirking as she shook her head. “Anyway… besides that disaster, things with Katsuki have been… good, actually. Really good. It’s been kind of soft lately.”
“I’m happy for you.” Maerya smiled warmly. “You look more like yourself lately.”
Rosie glanced at her with a soft expression. “Yeah… I think I’m getting there.”
“Oh,” Rosie perked up, “I forgot to tell you—I quit my job at Inferno.”
Maerya raised a brow. “Wait, what? That bougie lounge with the all-black uniforms and glitter cocktails?”
“The very one,” Rosie grinned. “I just… missed being a barista, I guess. It felt more me. So I went crawling back to Ishlamare.”
Maerya let out a happy squeal. “Shut up.”
“Wait—what?” Rosie blinked. “Since when?!”
“Since Shinso quit. You know, hero stuff. Too busy for double shifts,” Maerya shrugged. “They needed someone and I remember how you loved working there soooo I applied and got accepted.”
Rosie leaned forward to smack her leg playfully. “You didn’t think to tell me?”
“I was going to! But then all your updates were about Katsuki this and ‘my uncle walked in on us’ that—”
“Fair,” Rosie grinned. “Okay, now I’m actually excited to go back. Working with you? Total win.”
“You and me, girl.” Maerya held her drink up for a toast.
They clinked plastic cups with a soft tap. “So,” Rosie said after a sip, her tone turning teasing, “how are you and Shoji?”
Maerya immediately turned a soft pink, her expression a mixture of sheepish and dreamy. “He’s… great. Things are good, like really really really good, actually.”
Rosie smirked. “You’re blushing.”
“I am not!”
“You are!”
Maerya giggled, hiding her face behind her cup. “Okay, maybe I am. It’s just… he’s been really sweet. We’re still in that fuzzy, everything-is-adorable phase.”
Rosie softened, watching her with a quiet fondness. “That’s really nice.”
“He’s been busy though,” Maerya added, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s officially on his own now—independent hero status. So there’s been a lot of late patrols, emergencies, calls at all hours. But even when he’s tired, he’ll stop by just to check in. Just to see me, you know?”
Rosie felt a little ache in her chest—something warm and wistful. “That’s the good stuff.”
“Yeah,” Maerya whispered, smiling softly. “It really is.”
Rosie took her time packing up her little corner of the dressing room—the space she’d made her own over the last several months. Her vanity was cleared of her usual clutter of makeup, skincare, the string lights she’d wrapped around the mirror already unplugged and tucked into a box. Her costumes were neatly folded and packed away, save for the one she’d be wearing for her final performance tonight. Even her small closet, once crammed with sparkly dresses, fluffy robes, and backup heels, now stood nearly empty.
She hummed softly to herself as she worked, the melody gentle and nostalgic. It felt surreal—both an ending and a beginning—and she was trying her best to savor every moment of it.
“Last bag?” Mina’s bright voice cut through her thoughts, and Rosie looked up to see her best friend standing there, a big smile on her face and arms already reaching out for the final tote.
Rosie nodded, smiling warmly. “Yeah. That’s the last of it. Everything else I’m keeping is just for tonight’s show.”
Mina took the bag and swung it over her shoulder with ease. “This is so bittersweet,” she said with a pout. “But I’m so freaking excited to see your final performance. You’re gonna go out with a bang, I know it!”
Rosie laughed, her heart fluttering with excitement. “I hope so. It’s gonna be such a good night. I’m just… so happy that everyone could make it.”
Mina’s eyes lit up as she leaned against the vanity. “Who all’s coming?”
“So far?” Rosie ticked them off on her fingers. “You, obviously. Maerya, Akira, Momo, Shoto, Kirishima—and Katsuki.”
Mina raised her brows and wiggled them. “Oooh. Katsuki is coming to cheer you on?”
Rosie playfully rolled her eyes, but her grin gave her away. “He always shows up—quietly brooding in the back row, but he’s there.”
“Classic Katsuki,” Mina giggled. “So, have the girls done anything fun for you yet? You know, some kind of farewell surprise?”
Rosie tilted her head, her smile turning a little sly. “Oh, they’ve been suspiciously busy. And from what I’ve heard… there might be something planned tonight after the show.”
“Eeeek!” Mina squealed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I knew it. You deserve it, Rosie.”
Rosie’s cheeks warmed at the sentiment, and she pressed a hand to her heart. “I’m just grateful to have people like you in my life. I didn’t think leaving would hit me this hard, but… it feels right.”
“Well,” Mina grinned, “let’s make this last night unforgettable.”
Rosie nodded, her eyes shining as she turned to look at herself in the mirror. For one last night, she’d put on her lashes, slip into glittering heels, and take the stage like she always had.
The soft hum of stage lights buzzed just beyond the velvet curtains, casting a low, golden glow across the backstage area. Rosie adjusted the satin bow at the top of her thigh-high stocking, exhaling slowly as she smoothed down the ruffled edge of her crimson skirt. Her outfit glittered under the dressing room bulbs—a corset-style bodice that hugged her figure like a second skin, its deep red fabric stitched with glimmering rhinestones that caught the light with every move she made. The lace cinched her waist, flaring into a short skirt that teased her thighs with every sway.
Her nerves tingled beneath her skin like static, but the moment she caught sight of her reflection—bold, radiant, ready—something inside her steadied.
The other girls were bustling around her, all in their own vibrant versions of the signature costumes, chattering and fluffing hair, fixing lipstick, giving last-minute pep talks. There was warmth in the chaos. Yui gave her a wink and squeezed her hand. Haruhi, already halfway into her heels, mouthed, you got this. The air smelled of perfume, powder, and adrenaline.
Rosie’s heart pounded in her chest. This was it. Her last night.
Varsas appeared from around the corner, dressed in a soft blue variation of their ensemble—elegant, cool-toned, and dreamy. Her hair was swept up in a cloud of curls, her lips painted a dewy peach that complimented her complexion. She gave Rosie a long look, one filled with sisterly pride, then a wink before stepping toward the stage curtain.
The lights dimmed on the other side.
The crowd erupted into murmured anticipation, glasses clinking, polite laughter echoing against the velvet-draped walls of the club. Varsas stepped into the spotlight, her figure perfectly poised as the music dipped low behind her.
“Good evening, darlings,” her voice purred into the mic, drawing immediate cheers and whistles. “Welcome back to our sweet little corner of paradise.”
Rosie moved into position behind the curtain, her fingers trembling slightly around the feathered fan she’d be using for the first act. Her chest rose and fell with every breath as Varsas’ voice flowed like velvet across the stage.
“Now, tonight is a very special night,” Varsas continued, her eyes glittering beneath the spotlight. “Because tonight, we say goodbye to someone very dear to us. She’s graced our stage with elegance, fire, and a little bit of mischief.”
Rosie’s throat tightened. Her eyes darted toward the floor, breath catching.
“So I ask,” Varsas said, turning toward the crowd with a dazzling smile, “that you pay special attention. Let her final performance burn into your memory, because after tonight, there will never be another quite like her.”
The crowd clapped louder now, a few whistles echoing through the club as the music shifted into the opening chords. Varsas’ voice rang out, crystal clear. “Ladies and gentlemen, our radiant ruby—Rosie!”
The curtain rose with her stepping into the light and the room, for a moment, held its breath.
Notes:
oh! If you are into Hazbin Hotel, I did start writing for that fandom so you should check it out!
as always lemme know your thoughts and I’ll see you in the next one🤭
Chapter 151: You’d eat plain rice with ice cubes if I let you.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie’s chest heaved as the last notes of the music faded, the spotlight still warm against her skin. She held her final pose—one leg extended, feather fan sweeping down in a flourish—and the crowd erupted.
Cheers. Applause. Whistles sharp enough to pierce through the pounding of her heart.
For a moment, she just stood there, smiling so wide her cheeks ached. A standing ovation spread across the tables, champagne flutes lifted toward her in salute. Some guests shouted her name, others clapped until their palms had to sting.
She gave one last bow, letting the applause soak in like sunlight, before stepping back into the shadowed wings. Her legs were still buzzing from the performance, her breath still uneven from the pace of the routine.
Backstage was a flurry of movement—dancers rushing to change for the next set, crew members darting by with equipment. Rosie made her way toward the dressing rooms, rolling her shoulders to ease the tension in them, when she spotted Varsas down the narrow hallway.
Varsas was deep in conversation with a man whose tall frame nearly filled the space. His back was to Rosie, but the details stood out—a head of spiked blonde hair, broad shoulders, a posture that practically radiated confidence. She couldn’t see his face, but she had a feeling. That must be the mysterious pro hero boyfriend she’s been talking about.
Rosie didn’t linger. She just kept walking, deciding it wasn’t her business, and slipped into the dressing room.
The instant the door shut behind her, she peeled out of her sparkly costume, the rhinestones clinking faintly as she set it aside. She changed quickly into soft denim shorts and an oversized hoodie, the fabric a welcome comfort against her still-warmed skin. As she zipped up her bag, the door swung open again.
Varsas stepped inside, her cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling, and in her arms—an enormous bouquet of red roses.
“He came,” Varsas gushed, holding the bouquet like it was made of spun sugar. “Finally! He finally came to see me perform! And he said he’s going to make more time, and—oh, Rosie, I’m so happy. I promised him I’d do better, too. Make more space for us.”
Rosie’s lips softened into a genuine smile. “I’m happy for you, really. Sounds like you two needed this.”
“I’m going to miss working with you,” Varsas said, her expression shifting to something softer, more bittersweet. “But you know I’ll come see you. I’ll probably be a regular—just to annoy you.”
Rosie laughed lightly. “I’d expect nothing less.” She slung her bag over her shoulder, glancing at the time on the vanity clock. “I should get going—my friends are waiting for me.”
Varsas nodded, and the two women shared a quick hug. “Go,” Varsas said warmly. “Enjoy your night. You earned it.”
Rosie gave her one last smile before heading out, her heart still light from the ovation—and maybe just a little curious about the man with the spiked blonde hair.
Rosie was halfway down the dim hallway that led toward the front when a shadow moved into her path. Hiroshi. His smile was wrong—too wide, too eager—and his eyes had that restless glint she’d come to dread. He stepped into her space, forcing her to stop. “Rosie,” he said in a low, rushed voice, “we need to talk. Just you and me, quietly, and far away from here.”
Her stomach knotted instantly. “No. Move.” She tried to step around him, but his hand shot out, fingers clamping around her forearm.
“Please, just—”
“Let go of me,” she said, her voice low but sharp. “You’re lucky I didn’t press charges for what you did.”
His brows furrowed, confused. “What are you talking about? What did I do?”
Her jaw clenched. “Don’t play dumb. I know you drugged me at the beach party.”
A flash of something—anger? fear?—passed across his face before he scoffed. “That’s not true. You’re imagining things.”
Rosie shook her head, disgust curling in her chest. “Just… leave me alone, Hiroshi.”
The dressing room door creaked open behind her. Varsas stepped out, bouquet still in hand, and froze when she saw the scene in front of her. Her eyes narrowed on Hiroshi. “Let go of her,” she said, voice sharp, “before I have security called.”
Hiroshi’s head snapped toward her, his jaw flexing as he glared. “Mind your business.”
Varsas didn’t even blink. “Are you stupid? There are several pro heroes out there right now. Do you know what they’ll do to you if they find out you messed with her? The daughter of their teacher and a fellow pro hero?”
That landed. His grip loosened, and Rosie yanked her arm free, the skin beneath already throbbing. Hiroshi’s glare flickered between the two women before he let out a sharp hiss of frustration and stomped down the hall, disappearing into the crowd.
Rosie rubbed her arm, the outline of his fingers already blooming into an ugly bruise. She turned to Varsas, her throat tight. “Thank you.”
Varsas’s gaze softened. “That guy has given me creepy vibes since the first time I met him. You okay?”
Rosie sniffled, nodding faintly. “Yeah. I just… I should get back to my friends.”
Varsas gave a reassuring pat to her shoulder. “Go. I’ll keep an eye out in case he tries anything else.”
Rosie managed a grateful smile before heading toward the exit, her hoodie sleeve tugged down over her wrist to hide the bruise.
Rosie slipped out of Ignis Inferno and into the underground tunnels, the cold, chilled air a welcome relief after the thick heat of the stage lights. The low hum of the crowd above was gone here—just the soft echo of her boots and the muffled chatter ahead.
Just outside the tunnel exit, her friends were clustered in a loose circle, laughing and talking while they waited. The moment they spotted her, the conversation broke off into a chorus of cheers.
“There she is!” Mina squealed, practically bouncing in place as she rushed forward, a small bouquet of red and pink roses in her hands. “Oh my god, Rosie, you were insane out there—like, actual heart-thief levels of hot.”
“Congratulations, Rosie,” Shoto said warmly, stepping up next and handing her a bouquet wrapped in silver paper. The paper crinkled under her fingers as she took it, the crisp scent of the roses mingling with the faint trace of his cologne. “You killed it out there. You had the whole place watching you.”
Akira strode up right after, her grin wide and proud. She gave Rosie a dramatic once-over before pulling her into a quick hug. “Who knew that shy little Rosie would be up on stage, dancing her ass off?” she teased. “Man… how times have changed since we were snot-nosed kids.”
Rosie laughed, cheeks warm. “Don’t remind me.”
Momo stepped forward with a bouquet of elegant white lilies, her smile soft. “You were radiant. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so confident before—it was beautiful.”
Even Maerya smirked, handing over a short-stemmed bouquet of deep red carnations. “Last show, huh? Well, you went out with a bang. People couldn’t take their eyes off you.”
By the time everyone had piled their gifts into her arms, Rosie was holding them like precious treasure, the mingling fragrances wrapping around her like a second perfume. “You guys are the sweetest,” she said genuinely, looking from one smiling face to another.
“Hot pot time!” Kirishima announced, clapping his hands together and already herding people toward the exit. “We’re celebrating big tonight.”
The group split into different rides—Mina hopping into Kirishima’s car, Shoto with Momo, Maerya and Akira together—leaving Katsuki to walk beside Rosie toward his own car. He hadn’t said much since she’d come out, and she just chalked it up to his usual grumpy self.
It wasn’t.
As they crossed the dimly lit lot, Rosie was still cradling her flowers, the faint smile on her lips lingering from all the praise. They reached the parking lot, and the moment the others left, Katsuki’s voice snapped like a whip. “What the hell happened to your wrist?”
Rosie froze, her grip tightening on the bouquets. “It’s fine.”
“The hell it is,” he growled, stepping closer. “You’ve got a bruise shaped like a damn handprint.”
She opened her mouth, but he was already pacing, his boots scuffing against the asphalt, hands running through his hair.
“Un-fucking-believable,” he muttered. “I knew that piece of shit was trouble. Should’ve—dammit—should’ve taken him apart the first time I saw him looking at you.” His voice was getting louder, sharper, words firing out in rapid bursts. “Who the fuck does he think he is? Touching you like that? Drugging you? You didn’t tell me—what the actual—” He cut himself off only to start again, more curse words spilling as he paced, his whole body tight with restrained fury.
Rosie stood perfectly still, hugging the bouquets tight against her chest. Her eyes traced the taut lines of Katsuki’s body—every muscle drawn tight, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He looked like a grenade that had been yanked from the safety of its pin, the spoon still clinging on by sheer will, seconds from flying off. His breaths came sharp through his nose, chest rising and falling fast.
When he finally turned toward her again, his jaw was locked, eyes blazing molten gold under the parking lot lights.
“Katsuki…” she whispered, her voice soft and careful.
He didn’t answer, only stared at her like the fury in him was too big to put into words.
She stepped forward, setting the bouquets of flowers gently aside on the hood of his car. Then, without hesitation, she lifted both hands to cradle his face. His skin was hot under her palms, his jaw tight.
“Hey…” she coaxed, standing on her toes. Her lips brushed his—just a feather-light press that made his breathing hitch. Before he could say anything, she kissed him again, slower this time, and then dipped lower to press a warm kiss under his jaw, right against the sharp edge where she felt the hammering of his pulse.
His shoulders dropped a fraction, the coil of tension loosening. She slid her nose along his, a small smile tugging at her lips as his eyes softened. “Rosie…” he muttered, voice suddenly low and husky. His hands had just started to settle against her hips when—
“Rosie.”
They both stiffened at the sound of Hiroshi’s voice cutting through the air. He was walking toward them with that too-casual gait that made her stomach knot instantly.
Katsuki’s entire body went rigid again, his hands leaving her to curl into fists at his sides. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he growled under his breath.
Hiroshi stopped a few feet away, ignoring Katsuki entirely. “I need to talk to you. Alone.”
Without thinking, Rosie moved, stepping in behind Katsuki like he was a wall between her and danger. “No,” she said firmly, voice trembling only slightly.
“Didn’t ask him, Rosie,” Hiroshi said, his tone tightening. “I’m asking you.”
Katsuki took a slow step forward, forcing Hiroshi to take one back. “She said no. Get lost before I make you.”
Hiroshi’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t move. “We’re not done here.”
“You are,” Katsuki snapped.
Hiroshi’s gaze darted to Rosie, and before she could react, his hand shot out and clamped around her wrist. The same one he had grabbed before and she cried out, his fingers digging into her bruise as tears formed and she bit back her cry.
That was it. Katsuki’s control shattered like glass. He lunged, his fist connecting with Hiroshi’s jaw so hard the crack of impact echoed through the lot. Hiroshi staggered back, but before he could recover, Katsuki was already on him, shoving him into a car and swinging again.
The fight exploded fast—Hiroshi throwing a wild punch that Katsuki ducked, answering with a brutal hook to the ribs. Rosie stood frozen at first, her heart pounding in her ears, clutching her wrist where Hiroshi had grabbed her.
Katsuki’s voice was a snarl between strikes. “I’ll fucking kill you bastard.”
Hiroshi spat blood, swinging back, but Katsuki caught his arm and slammed him against the hood with a thud, teeth bared.
The sight was so raw, so fierce, that Rosie could barely breathe—half terrified, half in awe of how fast Katsuki had gone from gentle under her hands to unrelenting fury the second Hiroshi had touched her. It both comforted her and turned her on.
Rosie’s breath hitched as she watched Katsuki unleash his fury, his voice a low, venomous snarl between strikes. The raw, feral intensity in him was a stark contrast to the soft warmth she’d just felt moments ago, yet it sent a strange rush through her, a mix of shock, awe, and something darker, something thrilling. She hadn’t expected to be turned on by the sight of violence, but watching Katsuki defend her with such fierce protectiveness ignited something primal deep inside her. It was messy and reckless, but in that moment, it was the purest expression of how much he cared, how much he wanted to keep her safe, no matter the cost.
Her heart hammered against her ribs as she wrestled with the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her: the tenderness he showed when they were alone, the brutal passion he unleashed when she was threatened. It both comforted her and made her pulse quicken, a sharp heat blooming beneath her skin. She could feel her panties were soaked as she squeezed her thighs to alleviate the ache in between her legs.
But even as Katsuki’s rage blazed, a sliver of caution pierced through her. She couldn’t let him go too far, not with Hiroshi, not with anyone. She stepped forward, voice trembling but firm, placing her hands on Katsuki’s shoulders. “Stop. Just… let him go.”
Katsuki’s eyes flickered to hers, fierce and wild, but he hesitated, muscles taut like a coiled spring.
“He’s not worth it,” Rosie said, her gaze never leaving Katsuki’s. “Let him walk away.”
The defiant glint in her eyes seemed to momentarily pull him back from the edge. Katsuki’s fists unclenched slowly, but Hiroshi wasn’t done. He spat blood onto the ground, sneering, “You’ll regret this. I’ll report you. Get your license stripped away for attacking a civilian.”
Rosie’s glare sharpened, ice-cold and unyielding. “I’ll report you for drugging me.”
Hiroshi laughed bitterly, snorting, “You have no proof.”
“Oh, but I do.” Rosie snorted, “I kept the cup from that night, your prints are all over it. The hospital visit I made? The drug test? That’s evidence. You think you’re untouchable?”
The confident sneer on Hiroshi’s face faltered, and he fell silent, clutching his broken, bleeding nose. He smirked, “I have these injuries. I’ll go and report you right now.”
Without hesitation, Rosie stepped forward, reaching out to gently cup his hand. She pressed a soft kiss to the back of it, and a faint shimmer of light glowed around her palm. Within seconds, the cuts and bruises began to fade, the blood drying up as her quirk worked to heal him.
She pulled back with a smirk, eyes twinkling mischievously. “What injuries?”
Hiroshi snarled, eyes flashing dangerously as he hissed, “You stupid bitch.”
“Walk away now,” Rosie stated. “Just leave me alone.”
They watched him leave, disappearing into the night. Rosie sighed, slightly trembling, turning to Katsuki, she frowned seeing his bloody split knuckles. “You’re hurt.”
He snorted, “don’t even feel it doll.”
Rosie hummed softly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Without hesitation, she grabbed Katsuki by the collar of his shirt, tugging him down to her level. Their lips met in a fierce, desperate kiss — hungry, urgent, every touch burning with the tension they’d been holding back. As she pressed against him, her quirk softly activated, a warm glow radiating from her hands as she healed the small wounds peppering his skin. But neither of them paid attention to the healing, their mouths claimed each other with a raw, fiery need, their kiss deep and devouring, as if trying to make up for all the moments they’d been apart.
Side by side, they stepped into the cozy hot pot place, the savory steam of simmering broths and sizzling meats wrapping around them instantly. The others were already seated at the long table in the back, voices weaving together in warm bursts of chatter and laughter.
“What took you guys so long?” Akira asked, frowning playfully as Rosie and Katsuki slid into their seats.
Rosie smiled, tossing a glance at Katsuki’s faint smirk. “I forgot my phone in the dressing room,” she said casually, keeping her tone light as if it were the most mundane thing in the world.
Nobody seemed to question it further, and soon Maerya slid a menu into Rosie’s hands. “Here, circle whatever you want. We’ll get everything going once we’ve decided.”
Rosie glanced down, scanning the colorful photos of meats, noodles, vegetables, and dipping sauces. Her mouth watered, and her stomach gave an impatient growl that made her laugh softly under her breath. She hadn’t realized just how empty she was — but it made sense. She never ate before a performance to avoid feeling bloated, but now, after the adrenaline and chaos of the night, her hunger was sharp and insistent.
Before she could make a choice, Katsuki leaned over and plucked the menu from her hands. “I’ll order for you,” he said flatly, already circling a variety of dishes.
“How do you—” she began, but a waitress appeared with their drinks, cutting her off. Rosie thanked her, and Katsuki passed the menus back with the efficiency of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.
“You need water,” he said, pushing her cup toward her with a firm look. His other arm rested casually along the back of her chair, his body relaxed but his eyes sharp in that way that made her feel both cared for and scrutinized.
As the table began to fill with plates and steaming baskets, Katsuki took control of her meal without asking. He dropped slices of marbled beef into the bubbling broth, swirled them until perfectly cooked, then laid them neatly on her plate. “Eat,” he instructed, as though daring her to argue. He added mushrooms, bok choy, and noodles to her bowl with the same precision, almost like he was building the perfect bite for her each time.
Rosie couldn’t help smiling at him, a small, warm curl of gratitude blooming in her chest. She sipped her water between mouthfuls, savoring not only the food but the quiet care behind his actions.
Around them, the table’s energy was alive and loud. Mina was in full chaos mode, egging on a bickering match between Shoto and Katsuki.
“You’re seasoning it wrong,” Shoto said calmly, which only made Katsuki bristle harder.
“Seasoning it—?!” Katsuki slammed his chopsticks down. “The fuck do you know about flavor, Half-and-Half? You’d eat plain rice with ice cubes if I let you.”
Mina burst out laughing. “Ooooh, shots fired! Shoto, you just gonna take that?”
Shoto blinked, deadpan. “I think my food is better than yours.”
“Oh, hell no—” Katsuki was already leaning forward, pointing his chopsticks like a weapon, and Mina was practically bouncing in her seat trying to hype it up.
On the other side, Kirishima was laughing so hard he nearly dropped a piece of pork into the broth, while Izuku was awkwardly trying to mediate, offering both of them different seasoning tips. Maerya, meanwhile, was in an animated conversation with Akira, though Akira was mostly ignoring the chaos entirely, nursing a tall glass of beer and downing it in huge gulps like this was just another Tuesday night.
Rosie sat in the middle of it all, quietly eating, her cheeks warm from the food and the company.
Notes:
Today is my nephews birthday, ahhh he’s five now, they grow up so fast😩🫠💖
anywayyyy, hope you guys enjoy the chapter. Lemme know your thoughts and I’ll see you in the next one🤭
Chapter 152: Chapter fifteen. That position? Impossible.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The rich, earthy aroma of freshly ground coffee beans lingered in the air, mingling with the cloying sweetness of powdered sugar from the pastries cooling behind the glass case. It was quiet, the kind of quiet only found in the dead of night, save for the soft hum of the espresso machine and the low, lazy murmur of the radio drifting from the back room.
Rosie hummed under her breath as she wiped down the last table, the rag gliding in practiced circles over the smooth surface. A small pile of empty mugs and half-finished cappuccino cups sat waiting on her tray, the faint rings of coffee stains proof of a long shift.
“Here, I can take those,” Maerya said as she came up beside her, her dark hair pulled into a messy bun, the sleeves of her sweater pushed up past her elbows. She took the tray with an easy smile, balancing it effortlessly on one hand.
“Thanks,” Rosie murmured, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Kanako stood behind the counter, restocking the pastry display with fresh croissants from the oven, their golden tops catching the warm light. “Almost time for clock out,” she called over her shoulder, stifling a yawn.
Rosie glanced at the clock hanging above the register, 4:02 AM. Ishlamare was technically open twenty-four hours, but the graveyard shift was always slow. Tonight had been quieter than most, just a handful of bleary-eyed students, late night office workers, and night owls shuffling in and out.
“Alright, I’m heading out,” Rosie said, grabbing her coat from the hook near the back door.
“Be safe,” Maerya said, giving her a knowing look.
Rosie stepped outside, the cool pre-dawn air immediately curling around her, carrying with it the faint scent of wet pavement and far-off rain. She stuffed her hands into her coat pockets and started the familiar walk home, her boots tapping softly against the sidewalk.
Halfway down the street, the hairs at the back of her neck prickled. She slowed, listening past the hum of distant traffic.
…Footsteps?
She stopped completely and turned. The street was dim, the pools of yellow light from the streetlamps leaving deep shadows in between. The sidewalk stretched out behind her, empty and silent except for the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.
Her brow furrowed.
Shaking her head, Rosie forced herself to keep moving. You’re just tired. Long shift. You’re imagining it.
Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling, that odd, heavy weight of unseen eyes on her back. Each step home felt just a little too long, and she found herself quickening her pace without realizing it.
Head in her hands, Rosie sat slumped against the edge of her bed, trembling so violently her teeth ached from the clenching. Her lungs burned with shallow, rapid breaths that refused to slow, and her chest felt as though it were caving inward. She had woken from yet another nightmare—no, not a nightmare. A memory. Too vivid, too raw, every detail etched into her mind like a fresh wound. It had pulled her out of sleep and dropped her into a full-blown panic before she even realized she was awake.
Bile crept up the back of her throat, mixing with the sting of tears and the sharp salt of snot clogging her nose. Her head throbbed, each pulse of pain syncing with the frantic beat of her heart. The floor felt cold under her legs, grounding her just enough to keep from tipping into complete disorientation, but not enough to banish the images behind her eyes.
Kyoma’s face wouldn’t leave her. Neither would that room.
That suffocating little box of cold cement walls, no windows, no air that didn’t reek of mildew and copper. The faint, constant hum of his camera’s red light, always watching. Always recording. She remembered the way it made her skin crawl, how she could feel his gaze through it even when he wasn’t in the room. And when he was…
Her throat went raw at the memory of screaming, until her voice cracked into a rasp and eventually failed entirely. He had delighted in that, leaning in with a smile as he whispered about how quiet she’d finally become. She could still feel the ache of thirst, the deep, gnawing emptiness in her stomach when he withheld food just to watch her grow weaker. The way her cracked lips stuck together when she tried to speak.
And then the pain. The calculated pain.
He never went for the kill, no, that would have been merciful. Instead, he learned her body like a map, finding places to stab that wouldn’t hit anything vital, snapping bones in ways that wouldn’t end her but would leave her writhing for hours. His voice would drift in like a poison-laced lullaby: “I want you to remember this, Rosie. I want it to stay with you.”
It had. God, it had.
Now, months later, she still couldn’t sleep without fearing she’d wake back in that room. She still startled at shadows, still flinched at certain tones of voice, still found her hands shaking when she was left alone too long. The nightmares came nearly every night, and when they didn’t, panic attacks took their place, sudden and vicious, ripping her out of the fragile calm she tried so hard to build and maintain.
Tonight was worse than most. She curled tighter against herself, nails digging into her arms as though she could physically hold herself together. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, her vision swimming in and out of focus. The walls of her bedroom, though familiar, felt too close. She wanted to move, to get up, but her body wouldn’t obey. It was as if that cement cell had found a way to follow her into freedom.
She told herself she was safe. Over and over, like a mantra. But safety felt like a foreign language she no longer knew how to speak.
By the time the sun had fully risen, Rosie had finally gotten herself under control. She’d taken a long, hot shower until her skin was pink, stripped the sweat-soaked sheets and comforter from her bed, and dumped them into the wash. The scent of fresh detergent and brewing coffee slowly replaced the sour tang of panic in the air. She moved through the morning deliberately—making breakfast, eating at her own pace, putting on makeup, and choosing an outfit as if the steady rhythm could hold her together.
The next couple of days passed in a blur. Katsuki had been tied up with work, which suited her just fine—she wasn’t in the mood for one of his “you need to take better care of yourself” lectures anyway. Instead, she kept busy: balancing shifts at the café, chipping away at her school assignments, helping with wedding planning, and sneaking in the occasional hangout with the girls that had nothing to do with centerpieces or seating charts.
That morning, the café was already bustling with the smell of fresh pastries and the low hum of conversation when Maerya leaned out from the kitchen, brushing a stray curl from her face.
“Hey,” she called. “Can you go check on Kanako? She went to take her break thirty minutes ago, and I need her back in here to help with the new batch of danishes.”
Rosie nodded, closing the register drawer with a click. “On it.”
She slipped through the back hallway, pushed open the door to the employee lounge—and froze.
“Oh. My. God.”
Her brain took half a second to register the scene: Shinso, still in his full hero gear, standing behind Kanako who was bent over the couch, skirt bunched at her knees, his hand tangled in her hair. The air was thick with the sound of skin meeting skin, low moans, and a rhythm that was very, very obvious.
Rosie immediately slapped her hands over her eyes. “Are you kidding me right now?!”
The sound of scrambling followed—fabric rustling, zippers, a muffled curse. The door banged against the wall as Maerya came running in.
“What’s wrong? What happened?”
Rosie pointed blindly toward the room.
Maerya peeked inside and stopped dead. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Ugh. I take naps on that couch.”
Kanako, red-faced and trying to smooth her hair, blurted, “Why did you come in without knocking?”
Rosie dropped her hands just long enough to glare. “I didn’t realize the employee lounge was your personal hookup spot.”
Maerya crossed her arms, one brow raised. “Don’t get mad at Rosie because you two can’t keep it in your pants during work hours.”
Shinso, now looking very interested in the far wall, muttered, “We… uh… lost track of time.”
“Lost track of time?” Rosie repeated incredulously. “What, was the clock going to join in too?”
Kanako groaned and covered her face, while Maerya just shook her head and backed out of the room, muttering about needing to sanitize everything.
Rosie, still flushed, muttered as she left, “I’m never sitting on that couch again.”
An hour later, Rosie was back behind the counter, forcing herself to focus on anything—anything—other than the mental trauma of accidentally walking in on Kanako and Shinso. No matter how hard she tried, flashes of the scene kept creeping back into her brain like unwanted pop-up ads. She rubbed her temples, as if sheer willpower could scrub her mind clean.
“Hey, you okay?” Maerya’s voice cut through her thoughts. She was leaning on the counter, frowning at her like a worried older sister. “You look like shit.”
Rosie snorted. “Thanks. That’s what every girl wants to hear.”
Maerya rolled her eyes. “I’m serious. Concealer can hide a lot of things, but it doesn’t hide dark circles that deep. What’s going on?”
Rosie hesitated, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, her voice dropping low so customers wouldn’t overhear. “I’ve just… been having a lot of nightmares lately, anxiety and panic attacks. More than usual. I can’t… I don’t know. I can’t seem to sleep through the night anymore.”
Maerya’s frown deepened, the teasing gone from her expression. “Rosie…” she sighed, resting a hand on her hip. Then, after a moment, her eyes lit up with an idea. “Okay. Here’s what we’re gonna do—you’re coming over to my place tonight. We’ll drink wine, read the smuttiest books we can find, and do all the dumb hair and face mask crap you see in those teenage magazines.”
Rosie blinked. “That sounds… chaotic.”
“That sounds like exactly what you need,” Maerya countered with a grin. “We’ll braid our hair, mock the books, maybe cry a little, maybe watch terrible rom-coms until two in the morning. You won’t even have time to think about sleeping.”
Rosie’s lips curved into a small smile despite herself. “Alright… yeah. That actually sounds nice.”
“Good,” Maerya said, satisfied. “It’s settled. I’ll even let you pick the wine. Just don’t pick the one with the cat on the label. That one’s nasty.”
Rosie had only been to Maerya’s apartment once before—and that visit had been fleeting. She’d just dropped off a container of homemade soup when Maerya was sick a few weeks ago, left it on the counter, and barely stayed long enough to admire the space. Now, stepping inside again, she took her time to look around.
It was exactly what she’d imagined for Maerya: stylish, modern, and effortlessly cool. Sleek black-and-white furniture accented with warm pops of gold, abstract art on the walls, and a faint but expensive perfume lingering in the air. Everything about it screamed no-nonsense badass who also happens to be ridiculously hot.
“Alright, Maya, you’re free to explore,” Rosie murmured as she set her dog down on the polished wood floor. Maya immediately bolted forward, tail wagging furiously, sniffing every corner, yipping at shadows, and trying to wedge her nose under the sofa like there might be hidden treasures.
“You can take the first shower if you want,” Maerya offered, already unloading a couple of grocery bags onto the kitchen counter. “I need to unpack these and get a load of laundry going before I forget.”
Rosie toed off her shoes, glancing toward the hallway. “You sure? I don’t mind waiting.”
“Go. You’ll feel better,” Maerya said with the authority of someone who wasn’t taking no for an answer.
Before Rosie could move, the front door opened and Akira stepped in, dropping her bag with an exaggerated groan. “Thank god you’re both here. If I had to spend one more evening with Monoma, I was going to climb out the nearest window.”
Rosie smirked. “That bad?”
“You have no idea,” Akira said, flopping onto Maerya’s couch like she owned the place. “He’s sweet, but he’s clingy. Like, text-me-when-you-get-up clingy. I love the man, but I need a break before I start filing for emotional separation.”
“Poor you,” Maerya teased without looking up from unpacking a box of strawberries.
Akira held up a hand. “No, seriously. I have to recharge before I see him tomorrow. And this,” she gestured around the apartment, “is my safe haven.”
Rosie chuckled as Maya trotted over to Akira, sniffed her boots, and promptly decided she was worthy of licking.
Akira reached down to scratch her behind the ears. “So what are you guys up to tonight? Or is this one of those wine-fueled girl therapy sessions?”
“Something like that,” Rosie said with a small smile.
“Well, perfect timing,” Akira replied. “I brought snacks, and I need to vent about work anyway. Do you know how many calls I had to redirect today? People don’t listen when I say I’m just the receptionist. Half the time they’re already spilling their life story before I can transfer them.”
“Law firm life?” Maerya guessed.
“Law firm life,” Akira confirmed with a dramatic sigh. “Where the phones never stop ringing, the clients never stop whining, and I’m basically the bouncer for people with money and bad tempers.”
Rosie grinned. “Sounds glamorous.”
“Oh, yeah. Nothing says glamour like a guy screaming in your ear because his lawyer’s on vacation.”
Maerya shook her head, pulling open the laundry closet. “Alright, you two can gossip all you want after Rosie showers. And don’t think I’m not making you fold these towels, Akira. Safe haven or not, you’re helping.”
Akira groaned but didn’t move from the couch, Maya now happily curled in her lap.
By the time Rosie emerged from the shower, hair damp and skin warm from the steam, the apartment had transformed into a miniature sleepover paradise. The coffee table was covered with snacks—bowls of chocolate-covered pretzels, cheese cubes, fruit, and at least three different kinds of chips. A couple of bottleb of rosé stood proudly in the middle, surrounded by mismatched wine glasses.
Maerya had changed into silky pajama shorts and a loose tank top, her hair piled into a messy bun. Akira was sprawled sideways across the couch in plaid shorts and an oversized T-shirt that said Only thing that is perky about me is my tits.
“Alright,” Maerya announced, handing Rosie a full glass of wine. “Girls’ night rules: no sad talk after the second glass. We keep it light, fun, and very scandalous.”
Rosie took her seat, curling up at one end of the couch with a fluffy throw pillow tucked under her arm. The first few sips of wine warmed her chest, making the edges of the day’s tension begin to blur.
“So,” Akira said, pointing her glass toward Maerya, “what do you think makes a man swoon-worthy? Like… the kind of guy worth actually being completely submissive for?”
Rosie almost choked on her wine.
Maerya smirked. “Easy. Confidence without arrogance. He has to know what he’s doing, but not in a ‘let me explain everything to you, little lady’ way. And bonus points if he can cook.”
“Cooking is not enough,” Akira countered, wagging a finger. “I need a man who listens. Like, actually listens. And he has to have forearms—good ones.”
Maerya laughed. “Forearms? That’s your big thing?”
“You can tell a lot from a man’s forearms!” Akira insisted. “Strength, veins, the way his hands move—”
Rosie hugged her pillow tighter, sipping wine and glancing between them like she was watching a tennis match.
“And what about dominance?” Maerya asked, leaning forward. “If you’re going submissive, you can’t have someone who’s too soft.”
Akira shrugged. “It’s a balance. He’s gotta be dominant, but he can’t be a controlling jerk. It’s like…” She waved her hand vaguely. “Sexy boss energy without the toxic HR complaint part.”
Rosie giggled into her glass, feeling her cheeks warm from both the alcohol and the conversation.
Two wine bottles were already empty with a third one nearly empty, and the three of them had settled in with their weekly book club read—a ridiculously steamy romance novel Maerya had picked. Rosie had been following along quietly, her mind spinning with scenes far bolder than anything she’d ever personally experienced.
“So,” Akira said, tossing the book onto the table with a laugh. “Chapter fifteen. That position? Impossible.”
“Not impossible,” Maerya argued, swirling the last of her wine. “Just… advanced.”
Rosie glanced between them. “Wait… what position?”
Maerya’s lips twitched. “You really can’t picture it?”
Rosie shook her head, cheeks flushing. “I mean… I’m trying, but… I don’t even—like—know what goes where exactly.”
Akira grinned wickedly. “Oh, honey. We’re about to blow your mind.”
Before Rosie could protest, the two of them stumbled off the couch, still giggling, and began to reenact the scene—fully clothed, but moving around like clumsy yoga partners after too much wine.
“No, your leg goes here,” Maerya said, grabbing Akira’s ankle and trying to hook it over her shoulder.
Akira snorted so hard she almost lost her balance. “And then he twists her like this—oh my god, how did the author think this was comfortable?”
Rosie sat cross-legged on the couch, wide-eyed, pillow clutched against her chest. “Okay, but… why is he behind her and in front of her at the same time?”
Maerya barked out a laugh. “Creative angles, babe, with sume suspension of disbelief and possibly a chiropractor appointment.”
Akira wobbled, trying to mimic the final position. “I feel like I’m about to pull a hamstring.”
They collapsed back onto the couch after their failed attempt at “chapter fifteen’s” acrobatics, still giggling and breathless. Maerya refilled their glasses, the wine now a deep, lazy buzz humming in Rosie’s veins. She tucked her feet under herself, chin resting on her pillow, eyes fixed on them with the same energy of a student watching two professors debate a complicated subject.
“Alright,” Akira said, taking a dramatic sip of wine, “let’s be real for a second. Half the positions in these books are for show. Sexy to read, a nightmare in reality.”
Maerya nodded. “Exactly. You’ve got your classics—missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl—always reliable. And then you’ve got the show-off positions that require gymnastic flexibility and a partner who’s part octopus.”
Rosie tilted her head. “Cowgirl? Reverse cowgirl?”
Akira grinned like she’d been waiting for this moment. “Cowgirl is when you’re on top, facing your partner. Reverse is… well, facing away. Different angle, different feel. Good if you want to switch things up.”
Maerya pointed her glass at Rosie. “And don’t let anyone tell you those aren’t powerful positions. Being on top gives youcontrol over speed, depth, everything. That’s queen energy right there.”
Rosie nodded slowly, clearly filing away mental notes.
“And then,” Maerya continued, “you’ve got doggy style. Great for deeper penetration, different sensations. Plus, it gives them a great view of—”
“—your ass,” Akira finished with a wink.
Rosie’s cheeks burned, but she couldn’t look away.
“And spooning,” Akira added, more softly. “That one’s sweet. Intimate. Good for slow mornings or when you want the closeness without going full workout mode.”
Maerya smirked. “Spooning is underrated. Comfy, sexy, and you can still kiss. Win-win.”
Rosie swirled her wine, biting her lip. “So… do people actually plan what positions to use? Or is it just… random?”
Maerya laughed. “Sometimes it’s planned. Sometimes it’s whatever happens in the moment. Good chemistry will make anything feel natural.”
Akira leaned forward conspiratorially. “The secret, Rosie, is knowing your body and what you like. The position’s just the tool—the magic is in how you use it.”
Rosie sipped her wine again, heart racing for reasons she wasn’t about to admit. She felt like she was in the middle of a very informative, very blush-worthy masterclass.
Maerya topped off her glass with a grin. “Don’t worry, baby girl. You’ll figure it all out when the right guy comes along. For now, just enjoy the theory portion of the class.”
The three of them dissolved into laughter again, the room warm and glowing with that hazy, safe kind of drunk that made everything feel a little closer, a little easier to say.
The sunlight streaming through Maerya’s living room curtains was far too cheerful for Rosie’s pounding head. She groaned softly, blinking awake on the couch, still wrapped burrito-style in the throw blanket from the night before. Maya, ever the traitor, had abandoned her at some point to curl up in Akira’s lap across the room, both of them still asleep.
The apartment smelled faintly of coffee and strawberries. Somewhere in the kitchen, Maerya was humming—off-key but in a way that made Rosie smile. She pushed herself upright, wincing at the stiffness in her neck from sleeping curled up like a shrimp, and shuffled toward the counter.
“Morning, sunshine,” Maerya greeted, sliding a mug of coffee across the counter toward her. “How’s my little student of human anatomy doing?”
Rosie’s cheeks warmed instantly. “Oh my god, don’t call it that.”
Maerya grinned over her own mug. “Why not? You were so attentive last night—nodding along, asking good questions. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were taking mental notes for homework.”
Rosie groaned, hiding behind her coffee. “Please stop.”
“Fine, fine,” Maerya said with mock innocence. “Just saying—when the right guy shows up, you’re going to ace the practical exam.”
Rosie sputtered into her drink. “You are the worst.”
“Mm-hm,” Maerya replied without an ounce of shame.
Akira’s muffled voice came from the couch. “Is she teasing you already? It’s too early for that.”
“Not my fault Rosie was such an eager listener,” Maerya shot back.
Rosie sank into one of the barstools, shaking her head but unable to hide her smile. The warmth from the night before still lingered—not just from the wine, but from the way Maerya and Akira had made her feel included, safe, and even a little braver.
As she sipped her coffee, she giggled as she watched Maerya and Akira argue over what to have for breakfast.
Notes:
I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, as always, lemme know your thoughts and I'll see you guys in the next one. have a lovely day💖
Chapter 153: She-Devil: Feeling’s mutual, babe. Especially since Shoji’s dick is huge.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
How the fuck was he supposed to work like this?
Katsuki sat at his desk, pen frozen halfway across a report, the low hum of the office fading into background static. His phone screen glowed in his palm, and all his focus was locked on the image that Maerya had just sent him.
Rosie.
Not the neat, put-together version he was used to seeing when she was out in public. No—this was private . Rosie, cheeks flushed a soft pink from wine, hair a little mussed, eyes hazy and heavy-lidded. She was curled up on a couch, cradling a half-empty glass like it was her most precious possession, wearing nothing but a thin, low-cut tank top and the cutest pair of panties he’d ever seen—white, with tiny red strawberries scattered across the fabric.
His jaw tightened, heat coiling low in his gut. The tank clung to her in all the right places, the soft curve of her hips visible where the hem lifted. The playful print on her panties was almost worse than if she’d been wearing nothing—it was teasing, taunting him. It was innocent and dangerous all at once, and it made something in his chest and cock tighten instantly.
He shifted in his chair, cursing under his breath as his pants grew uncomfortably tight. He should delete the damn thing, put his phone down, focus . But his eyes kept dragging back to the photo, tracing the line of her thigh, the faint smudge of pink lip gloss she’d probably forgotten she was wearing.
What the hell was Maerya thinking, sending him this while he was at work? What the hell was he thinking, staring at it like some lovesick idiot instead of finishing the stack of paperwork in front of him?
He clenched his teeth, tossing his pen aside and dragging a hand over his face. “Fuck,” he muttered, low and sharp.
Because how was he supposed to think about hero patrol schedules or tactical reports when his doll was sitting there, drunk and soft and completely unaware of what she was doing to him?
Before he could talk himself out of it, he fired off a text.
Katsuki: What the fuck is wrong with you sending me this while I’m at work?
The reply came fast.
She-Devil: Should have seen her face when Akira and I gave her some pointers when it comes to sex.
His blood pressure spiked.
Katsuki: Stop being a bad influence on my girlfriend.
She-Devil: Ohhh, she’s your girlfriend now? Last I checked, you broke up with her.
Katsuki: I regret ever sleeping with you.
She-Devil: Feeling’s mutual, babe. Especially since Shoji’s dick is huge.
Katsuki: I did not need to know this information.
Instead of a smartass comeback, another notification popped up—a link. He clicked it, brow furrowing. It was an open invite to a party tonight at Tetsutetsu’s place.
Katsuki: What is this?
She-Devil: A party the girls and I are going to tonight. I have a feeling something is going to happen… so take off work and come.
Katsuki stared at the message, his thumb hovering over the screen. He should stay and finish his work. He should ignore Maerya’s games. But all he could picture was Rosie—still flushed from wine, still in that damn tank top and those strawberry panties—smiling and laughing with everyone else while he wasn’t there.
His chair scraped back sharply.
Fuck work.
The bass thumped hard enough to vibrate through Katsuki’s chest the second he stepped inside Tetsutetsu’s place. Music, laughter, and the smell of alcohol hit him all at once. The house was crowded just as every other party he threw, but he didn’t give two shits about a single person here. Only one mattered and that was a girl with obnoxiously pink hair.
Pushing past people under the neon lights, he moved room to room, searching for her. It wasn’t until he found her in the living room, surrounded by Maerya, Akira, Uraraka, and Mina, a glass of something pink and bubbly in her hand. Her cheeks were flushed again—whether from alcohol or the heat of the room, he couldn’t tell. Her hair spilled in soft waves over her shoulders, and her outfit —fuck . A tight halter top that had plenty of cleavage, the neckline dipping low enough for him to see her pink lace bra, paired with tiny black shorts that showed off more leg than he could handle seeing in public.
She was smiling and laughing at something Maerya said, looking so damn relaxed .
It made his chest tighten.
Sticking to the shadows near the edge of the room, Katsuki’s gaze never left Rosie. For the next hour, he watched her move, completely unaware of his scrutiny, and every second made his chest tighten.
She laughed, soft and carefree, the kind of sound that made him forget to breathe. Her hair caught the neon lights, flickers of pink, blue, and green glinting off stray strands that fell around her face. Every movement—every tilt of her head, every sway of her hips—seemed effortless, but it pulled at something raw inside him, something protective and possessive all at once.
She danced with Maerya and Akira, spinning and leaning into their laughter, her tank slipping slightly at the shoulder, revealing the curve of her collarbone. Glitter dusted her skin, catching the colored lights and making her look ethereal, like she was glowing from within. He couldn’t look away. He shouldn’t look away. But the way her body moved, the way her eyes sparkled even in the low light, made his entire world narrow down to just her.
His fingers flexed around the edge of the table he was leaning on. Every laugh she gave was a jab to his chest, every glance she threw to someone else—but never him—was a test he didn’t want to fail. She was stunning, intoxicating, dangerous in the way she made him ache without even touching him.
And yet… it wasn’t just the physical. It was the way she carried herself—fun, unbothered, unafraid to be herself. That soft confidence underlined by the faint tipsy looseness from the wine made her impossible to ignore. Katsuki swallowed hard, the tight coil in his gut growing every second she remained in his view.
She was gorgeous. She was his . And right now, watching her glow in the neon haze, he knew he’d be willing to burn the world down just to make sure she stayed that way—and that no one else laid a hand on her.
That was until that bitchass Hiroshi grabbed Rosie’s wrist and yanked her away from Maerya. Her startled gasp cut through the music, and Katsuki’s entire body went rigid. His gaze locked on Hiroshi’s hand around her delicate wrist, the bastard leaning in too close, his mouth moving fast.
“I just need to talk to you,” Hiroshi insisted, voice raised over the bass. “Five minutes, Rosie. That’s all I’m asking—”
She shook her head, trying to pull back, but his grip didn’t loosen. “Let me go, Hiroshi. I’m not doing this right now—”
“You owe me that much!” he snapped, dragging her half a step closer.
That was it.
Katsuki was already moving before he realized it, weaving through the crowd like a loaded gun with the safety off. People barely had time to register him before his fist connected with Hiroshi’s face. The crack was loud —sickeningly satisfying— as Hiroshi’s head snapped back and his hands flew to his face. Blood poured instantly from his broken nose.
“Take your fucking hands off her,” Katsuki growled, his voice low and lethal.
“Motherfucker!” one of Hiroshi’s friends roared, shoving through the crowd. Two more stepped in behind him, and suddenly Katsuki had three angry guys squaring off at once.
“What is going on?!” Deku’s voice cut in, sharp with that fake-hero authority he tried to keep at parties. He pushed into the space between them, palms up in a mediating gesture. “Everyone just calm—”
He didn’t even get to finish before one of Hiroshi’s friends threw a wild punch meant for Katsuki—only for Deku to step right into it. The hit landed square on his jaw, sending him stumbling back with a shocked noise.
The second that happened, the whole place erupted.
“ Oh hell yeah! ” Kirishima yelled, grinning as he vaulted over a table and into the fray. Tetsutetsu was right behind him, cracking his knuckles like this was the best thing that had happened all week. A dozen more guys piled in, some trying to break things up, others clearly just drunk and eager for a fight.
Katsuki barely noticed the chaos. His entire focus was on Hiroshi, who had wiped the blood from his mouth and lunged at him. They collided hard, fists flying, each hit fueled by pure, ugly adrenaline.
Around them, the crowd was a roaring blur—cheers, laughter, shouts egging them on. The neon lights stuttered across their faces, turning the fight into a kaleidoscope of color and movement.
“Katsuki!” Rosie’s voice cut through the noise, sharp with panic.
He felt her hand on his arm, yanking hard. He stumbled back a step, still breathing like he’d run a mile, his eyes locked on Hiroshi like he wasn’t done yet.
“Stop!” she said, pulling harder, forcing him to turn toward her. Her face was flushed from more than just the alcohol now, her eyes wide and shining.
It took another beat before his fists unclenched, before the red haze started to lift, and he let her drag him out of the circle of shouting, drunken idiots.
Rosie didn’t stop pulling him until she’d shoved him through the bathroom door, slamming it shut behind them. The pounding bass of the party dulled to a muffled throb through the walls, but Katsuki was still buzzing—his fists aching, jaw tight, breath hot in his chest.
“Are you okay?” he asked immediately, scanning her face for any sign of injury. “He didn’t hurt you, right? If he—”
Her hands were already on his shirt, bunching the fabric in her fists. “Shut up,” she whispered, her voice trembling—not with fear, but with something else entirely—and before he could say another word, her mouth was on his.
It wasn’t a soft kiss. It was messy, hungry, all teeth and heat, like she’d been holding it back for months. Katsuki didn’t even try to fight it. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her against him, pressing her into the door so he could kiss her harder.
Her breath hitched when his fingers dug into her hips, and she leaned into him like she couldn’t get close enough. He grabbed the backs of her thighs and lifted her effortlessly, setting her down on the counter beside the sink. The cheap fluorescent light overhead flickered as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in tight.
The kiss deepened, their mouths moving frantically, the taste of wine still lingering on her tongue. His hands roamed over her—up her sides, down her back—tracing the heat of her body like he needed to memorize it all right now. She gasped into his mouth when his palm slid under her tank top, fingertips brushing bare skin.
“Katsuki…” she breathed, tugging at his hair before yanking at his belt, her fingers fumbling with the buckle in her urgency.
“Fuck,” he muttered against her lips, his hips grinding against hers in a slow, filthy rhythm that had her nails digging into his shoulders.
The belt gave a metallic clink—and the door swung open.
They both froze. Standing in the doorway was Deku, Uraraka, and Mina—all three of them wide-eyed like they’d just stumbled into a live grenade.
“Oh my god,” Uraraka squeaked, her hands flying to her mouth.
“I—uh—we—” Deku stammered, face burning red enough to rival a stoplight.
Mina, however, just grinned like she’d won a bet. “ I KNEW IT! ” she practically sang, eyes flicking between the two of them.
Rosie blinked, cheeks flushed, hair mussed, still half perched on the counter with Katsuki between her knees.
Katsuki just grunted, completely unbothered. “Get the fuck out.”
Mina’s grin only widened. “Don’t stop on my account.”
“Mina!” Uraraka hissed, shoving her back out into the hall. “Uh, we’ll give you guys a sec—but, uh, we should get going.”
Deku followed quickly behind his fiancée, mumbling something about privacy and boundaries , before the door shut again.
Rosie immediately buried her face in Katsuki’s shirt, her whole body radiating embarrassment. “Oh my god…” she groaned into the fabric.
Katsuki swore under his breath, “Fucking extras—”
The door swung open again . This time, it was Maerya. She leaned casually against the frame, one brow raised, phone already in hand. “Well, well, well,” she purred before raising the phone and snapping a picture. “Say bathroom fucking !”
Katsuki’s middle finger shot up instantly. “Delete that, She-Devil.”
Rosie squeaked, ducking even further into his chest like she could just vanish if she pressed hard enough.
Maerya ignored them, smirking at the screen. “Oh, this one’s going in the scrapbook.”
“You have a scrapbook?!” Rosie peeked up at her in horror.
“Of course,” Maerya replied smoothly. “Now, as much as I’d love to let you two reenact a porno in here, I suggest you leave before someone calls the cops. Or worse—this turns into a headline scandal: Pro Hero Dynamight Caught Raw-Dogging in Public Bathroom after beating the shit out of a civilian. ”
“Oi, watch your mouth,” Katsuki grunted, but he still set Rosie down off the counter with surprising gentleness.
Maerya stepped aside, still smirking like the devil she was. “If you’re not careful, one of these days Aizawa’s gonna walk in and catch you two actually fucking.”
Katsuki snorted. “That old man will never find out.”
Maerya shook her head slowly. “Famous last words.”
Rosie, still red as a cherry, swatted at Katsuki’s arm in protest. “Don’t say stuff like that!”
He just flicked her forehead, smirking when she pouted. “He isn’t going to find out.”
The elevator doors of Rosie’s building slid open with a ding , and the two stepped out, the quiet of the hallway a welcome break from the chaos of the party.
Rosie was mid-sentence, laughing about something Maerya had said earlier, when her steps faltered.
Her apartment door… was cracked open. Her smile vanished, replaced by a creeping unease. She turned slowly toward Katsuki, her voice small. “Katsuki…” she whimpered.
His jaw clenched, every muscle in his body going rigid as he stepped in front of her. His voice dropped, sharp and protective. “Stay in the hallway.”
Rosie shook her head, stubborn and shaking. “No… I’m going in with you.”
They slipped inside together, Katsuki leading, every step measured and silent. The apartment was dim, shadows stretching across the floor from the streetlights outside.
Then Rosie’s heart stopped. Maya was sprawled on the living room floor, sides rising and falling unevenly, her breaths labored. “Maya!” Rosie cried, dropping to her knees and scooping the tiny poodle into her arms. Maya whimpered weakly, head lolling against her.
Katsuki crouched, frowning hard. “She’s breathing weird… she was probably drugged. Whoever broke in might’ve put something in her water or food.”
Rosie’s eyes burned as tears blurred her vision. She clutched Maya to her chest, pressing trembling kisses to her fur. “Oh, baby… oh my sweet girl…” Her voice cracked.
“Stay here,” Katsuki muttered, scanning the room before disappearing down the hall.
Rosie barely registered the sound of doors opening, drawers sliding, Katsuki moving quickly from room to room. He returned a minute later, expression tight. “Place looks untouched,” he said grimly. “Nothing’s missing. No signs of a struggle, either.”
Rosie looked up at him through her tears. “Katsuki… take me to the vet. Please.”
He nodded instantly. “Yeah. But you should stay with Maerya or Akira tonight. I don’t like the idea of you being here after this.”
Rosie shook her head, her grip tightening protectively around Maya. “No. Whoever broke in isn’t coming back anytime soon. Right now, she’s my first concern.”
Katsuki stared at her for a beat, jaw flexing… but he didn’t argue. He just moved toward the door, muttering, “Then let’s go. We’re getting her help, now.”
Notes:
personally loved this chapter💖 lemme know your thoughts and I’ll see you in the next one
Chapter 154: Back when she still looked at him like he hung the damn stars.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The drive had been a blur. Rosie sat curled in the passenger seat, Maya swaddled in a blanket against her chest. Katsuki’s hoodie hung loose over her party outfit, the sleeves swallowing her hands. Her makeup was smudged and streaked, mascara running down her cheeks in messy black trails, but she didn’t care.
In the vet’s waiting room, she rocked slightly, whispering broken reassurances into Maya’s fur. “It’s okay, baby… Mama’s got you. You’re gonna be fine, you hear me? Just hang on…” Her voice wavered, thick with tears.
Katsuki stood a few feet away, back to her, phone pressed to his ear. His voice was low but sharp, like a blade barely sheathed. “Yeah, Hawks—no, listen to me. Someone got into her place tonight. The cotton swab was drugged. I don’t care how, I want every camera feed from that street in my inbox by morning. If I find out who it is before you do, they’re dead. Got it?” He ended the call with a tight jaw, slipping the phone into his pocket just as the vet tech stepped into the room.
“Miss Takahashi?” The young woman’s voice was gentle, but urgent. Rosie was on her feet in an instant, following the vet tech toward the back, clutching Maya like porcelain. The click of her heels echoed against the tile as she hurried behind them, her balance wavering with each step.
They reached a small, bright exam room. Rosie didn’t want to let go, but the vet tech gave her a soft look. “We’ll just get her weight first, then bring her right back.”
Rosie’s throat tightened. She nodded quickly, sniffing as she whispered, “Okay… okay, sweet girl. Just for a minute.” She pressed one last kiss to Maya’s head before handing her over, her hands shaking as the tech left with her.
She turned to find Katsuki already sitting in the lone chair. He patted his thigh, expression flat but his eyes softened. “C’mere.”
Rosie shook her head, wiping under her eyes. “There’s no other chair—”
“Didn’t say there was,” he cut in, grabbing her wrist and pulling her toward him.
She stumbled, but he caught her easily, settling her sideways across his lap. Her legs dangled over one arm of the chair as he wrapped both arms around her, tucking her against his chest.
“She’s gonna be okay,” he murmured into her hair. “And I’ll find the piece of shit who did this. You have my word.”
Rosie buried her face into the warm crook of his neck, breathing him in as her tears silently dampened his hoodie. His hand rubbed slow circles on her back, steady and grounding, until her trembling eased—just enough for her to breathe again.
The minutes stretched like hours. Rosie stayed curled in Katsuki’s lap, his warmth the only thing keeping her from spiraling completely. Her hands fidgeted with the sleeves of his hoodie, twisting the fabric until her knuckles went white.
The door opened quietly, and the vet tech returned—Maya bundled in her arms again, the dog’s little chest rising and falling slowly. Rosie sat upright instantly. “She’s stable for now,” the tech said softly. “But before we can say more… can you tell me what happened?”
Rosie opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her pulse was pounding in her ears, her breathing too quick. Words tangled in her throat until all that escaped was a shaky, “I—she—”
Katsuki’s hand slid over hers, grounding her. His voice was steady, even as his jaw ticked. “We came home from a party,” he began, eyes locked on the tech. “Her apartment door was cracked open. Inside, the dog was on the floor—unresponsive. Looked like she’d been drugged.”
The tech’s expression darkened, but she kept her tone calm. “Alright. Thank you. We’re going to take some blood samples to see what was given to her, and run x-rays just to be sure there’s nothing else going on internally. You can stay here—this shouldn’t take too long.”
Rosie nodded numbly, watching as Maya was carried out again. Her eyes were glassy, tears threatening to spill again. Katsuki’s arm tightened around her waist. “She’s in good hands, doll,” he murmured, low enough for only her to hear. “Let them do their job. I’ve got the rest handled.”
She clung to that promise like a lifeline, letting him pull her back into his lap, his hand finding hers and lacing their fingers together.
Katsuki glanced sideways, the quiet hum of the engine the only sound in the car besides the faint wheeze of the heater. Rosie was slumped in the passenger seat, her head resting against the window, clutching Maya close to her chest. Both girl and dog were fast asleep, their breathing slow and even. Maya’s tiny paws twitched now and then, her blanket wrapped snug around her. Rosie had her tucked so tightly against her that it was like she was afraid she’d vanish if she let go.
She’d been out cold since they’d pulled away from the clinic. Not surprising—between the party, the break-in, and the sheer panic at the vet, she was running on fumes. Still, the sight of her like that—makeup smudged, hair messy from his hoodie’s hood, holding her dog like it was her entire world—twisted something in his chest.
His grip on the steering wheel tightened as his mind replayed the vet’s words.
“She’s lucky you brought her in when you did. The sedative in her system was potent enough to put down a large dog for hours—on a dog her size, it could’ve stopped her heart. Whoever gave it to her either knew exactly what they were doing… or didn’t care if it killed her.”
He ground his teeth at the memory, his jaw aching. That kind of dosage wasn’t an accident. Someone had gone into Rosie’s apartment, bypassed everything, and gone straight for the dog. That wasn’t just a break-in—it semed more like a message if anything.
His eyes flicked back to Rosie. She didn’t need to know that detail yet, not until he had answers. Right now, she needs to sleep. She needed to believe Maya was safe.
Katsuki didn’t even think about driving her back to her place. No way in hell was she stepping foot in that apartment tonight. Instead, he took the familiar route to his own house, parking in the driveway before cutting the engine.
Rosie hadn’t stirred once. Maya was still curled in her arms, breathing slow and steady, her blanket tucked beneath Rosie’s chin like a second layer of comfort.
He moved quietly, easing out of the driver’s seat and walking around to her side. The passenger door creaked faintly as he opened it, the sound of the heater’s last breath of warmth slipping out into the cold air. He crouched low, one arm hooking beneath Rosie’s legs and the other wrapping carefully around her shoulders so he didn’t jostle Maya.
She instinctively curled closer to him, cheek pressed against his chest, the faint scent of alcohol and her shampoo drifting up to him. Maya’s tiny head was resting in the crook of her elbow, completely unaware of the chaos from earlier.
The elevator ride up was silent, the only sound the faint thump of his heartbeat in his ears. When they reached his front door, he kicked the door shut behind him and headed straight for his bedroom.
He set them gently on the bed, Rosie still clutching Maya and crouched to undo the thin straps of her heels, sliding them off and setting them aside. She murmured something faint but didn’t wake.
“Yeah, I know,” he muttered under his breath, almost fondly.
He eased Maya from her arms, tucking her in on the pillow, then turned his attention back to Rosie. Carefully, he stripped her out of the glittery remnants of her party outfit, his movements slow so as not to wake her. She ended up in one of his old shirts—soft, worn, and far too big on her—before he moved to the bathroom.
Grabbing a warm washcloth, he returned and sat on the edge of the bed, wiping away the smeared makeup on her cheeks, the black streaks under her eyes. She didn’t so much as flinch when he tilted her head toward him to make sure he got every trace. By the time he was done, she looked softer—peaceful in a way she hadn’t all night.
He tucked the blanket around her, gave Maya a quick scratch behind the ears, and made his way out, closing the bedroom door halfway.
In the kitchen, he moved on autopilot, grinding beans and brewing a strong cup of coffee. The bitter smell filled the air, grounding him. Mug in hand, he wandered into the living room.
Lady was curled up on the couch, tail flicking lazily when she saw him but making no move to get up.
Katsuki barely glanced at her before his eyes went to the far wall—the one covered in his private project. Photos pulled from CCTV footage. Dates scrawled in black marker. Crime reports pinned in tight rows. Red strings connected certain points, the lines crisscrossing like a web.
He took a long drink of coffee, his gaze hardening.
Whoever stepped into Rosie’s apartment tonight had just joined that wall.
Katsuki balanced the two mugs carefully in his hands—the sharp, bitter scent of his black coffee mixing with the sweeter, softer aroma of the one made just how she liked it. Lots of sugar, too much cream. The way she always wrinkled her nose when he called it “dessert in a cup” but still downed it in minutes.
The door to his bedroom creaked faintly as he pushed it open with his shoulder. He froze in the doorway.
Rosie was curled up in the center of his bed, the blankets wrapped loosely around her. Maya was tucked against her stomach, tiny paws kneading at the fabric even in sleep, while Lady had claimed the space behind Rosie’s legs, tail draped lazily over her hip like a protective banner.
The soft glow from the hall light caught the curve of her cheek, the faint smudge of leftover glitter in her hair, the steady rise and fall of her breathing.
Something twisted in his gut—tight and hot—spreading up into his chest until his throat felt almost too tight to swallow. He’d spent months telling himself that having her back in his bed was impossible, that he’d burned that bridge to ash. And yet… here she was. Sleeping like she had never left. Looking so goddamn pretty and soft it made him want to crawl into bed beside her and never let her go.
He stood there longer than he’d admit, just taking her in, before finally stepping inside, careful not to wake her. Setting her mug of coffee down on the side table, his gaze lingered on her before he clenched his jaw and turned away, leaving before she woke up.
The smell of sizzling bacon filled the kitchen, mingling with the faint steam rising from the toaster. Katsuki moved with practiced efficiency—flipping eggs in the pan, sliding them onto a plate, and tossing the pan into the sink with a clatter. The morning light spilling in through the blinds caught on the faint sheen of water he ran over the dishes as he reached for the sponge.
He turned, ready to start scrubbing, and froze.
Rosie stood in the doorway.
Her hair was a tangled halo of bedhead, her oversized shirt slipping down one shoulder, bare legs peeking out from the hem. She held the mug of coffee he’d made for her, cradling it with both hands like it was the only thing keeping her upright, rubbing one sleepy eye with her wrist.
For a moment, he swore he felt something inside his chest crack wide open, raw and aching. Like his heart had been split and was bleeding out right there in the middle of the goddamn kitchen.
She looked… beautiful. Not the made-up, party-perfect beautiful from last night, but something softer, something that made his throat feel tight. This was the kind of beautiful that got under his skin and stayed there—messy hair, bare face, still warm from sleep, like she belonged here.
“Katsuki,” she mumbled, voice low and rough, before taking a sip from the mug. “Good morning.”
He didn’t answer right away. Couldn’t. He just stared at her like he was memorizing every inch, every second, burning it into his mind in case the universe decided to take her away from him again.
She padded into the kitchen, bare feet whispering against the floor, and set her coffee down on the counter before climbing up to sit beside it. Her shirt—his shirt—was too big on her, the sleeves slipping past her wrists. She tucked one leg under herself, the other swinging idly as she took another sip.
Katsuki turned back to the stove, flipping the last strip of bacon onto a plate, but his mind wasn’t on breakfast.
Hell, it wasn’t even on the food.
It was on her—sitting there in his shirt like it was the most natural thing in the world, like she’d been doing it every morning for years instead of just one. Completely oblivious to the way she was undoing him piece by piece.
He’d never admit it out loud, but it scared him—how easily she could just be here and make it feel like home. No dramatics, no speeches… just her sleepy smile and the way her hair caught the sunlight, turning the ends rose gold.
He set the plate in front of her, watching her eyes light up at the food, and it was like someone reached into his chest and squeezed.
She had no idea. No idea that he’d thought he’d never see this again—her in his kitchen, sipping coffee and waiting for him to sit down. No idea how many nights he’d spent staring at his ceiling, imagining it. No idea how he’d sworn to himself that if he ever got another shot, he’d never let her go again.
“You’re staring,” she teased softly, pulling him from his thoughts.
“Tch. Eat your breakfast, dumbass,” he muttered, sliding onto the stool across from her. But he kept watching her anyway, as she ate, completely and blissfully unaware of his heartache.
They ate in easy silence at first, the clink of forks and the occasional quiet sip of coffee filling the air. Every so often she’d glance up at him, catching him staring again, and he’d grunt or look away like he’d been caught doing something embarrassing.
“You cook better than I remember,” Rosie said finally, pointing her fork at him.
He smirked. “You remember that much, huh?”
“Some things stick.” She popped a bite of bacon into her mouth, eyes twinkling. “Also—your kitchen smells amazing. Not fair.”
“Tch. Just eat before it gets cold.”
They went back and forth for a few more minutes, her teasing, him pretending to be irritated but secretly soaking in every sound she made—every little laugh, every smile that curled across her lips. He was half-convinced he could live off the sound of her laughter and the sight of her curled up in his shirt forever.
She pushed her plate away slightly, leaning her chin in her palm as she looked around. “You know…” she began, voice softer now, “I really like your place.”
Katsuki raised a brow. “Yeah? Really?”
“Mhm.” She nodded, her smile gentling. “I walked around a little before coming in here. The layout, the big windows, the kitchen that opens into the living room… it’s just like the kind of house I always wanted growing up. You know, the kind of place I pictured raising a family in.”
Her words hit him like a gut punch, but not in a bad way. He just sat there, trying to keep his face neutral while his chest felt like it was caving in.
Because she didn’t know. She had no idea that this house wasn’t an accident. That he’d found it after weeks of searching, keeping a mental checklist of every little detail she’d ever told him before they broke up, before she lost her memory—back when she still looked at him like he hung the damn stars.
Big kitchen. Lots of light. A backyard for kids to run around in, a wraparound porch, a garden.
He’d remembered every word.
Because back then, he’d promised himself that one day, she’d be his wife, and this house would be where she raised their kids. He’d built this dream for her, even when he wasn’t sure he’d ever get her back.
And now she was sitting here, sipping coffee in his shirt, telling him it was perfect… without knowing it was already hers in his mind.
He swallowed hard, shoving a forkful of eggs into his mouth just to keep himself from blurting out something that would make him sound desperate. His throat was too tight, his thoughts too loud, and he wasn’t sure he could look at her without giving everything away.
Thankfully, she spared him from the dangerous territory with a light shift in tone.
“Maya seems to be better,” Rosie said, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she absently wrapped her fingers around her mug. “She was back to her old self when I woke up.”
He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, grateful for the change in subject—grateful she wasn’t looking too closely at him in that moment. Talking about the cotton swab was safe ground. Safer than talking about the house, about family, about how every single thing she’d said had been like pressing a thumb into a bruise he still carried for her.
“Yeah?” he asked, glancing up at her with a faint smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it was genuine enough. “Good. Guess the little furball’s tougher than she looks.”
Rosie nodded, taking another sip of her coffee. “She even tried to steal Lady’s spot on the couch. Lady wasn’t happy.”
That earned a real, quiet chuckle from him. “Figures. Those two are trouble together.”
And just like that, the heavy, suffocating knot in his chest eased—if only a little. Talking about Maya, about something ordinary, gave him a few precious seconds to shove his feelings back in the lockbox where they belonged.
Notes:
Ahhhh so just to let you girlies know that moving forward their is going to be lots of callbacks to earlier chapters and a reminder to lock in your votes on who you think the stalker is because they will be revealed here pretty soon🤭
Oh and Maya is okay (she is my dog irl and the thought of her dying in theory and irl would make me depressed).
Please go follow me on Tumblr as I'm very active on the app and will be releasing updates in regards to me starting school next week and my moving into the dorms on Monday and how stories will be put on hold, started, and all that good jazz:)
One last thought, to all the girlies who are binging this story, please drink water and take a five minute break:)
As always lemme know your thoughts and I will see you in the next one<3
Chapter 155: Girls are usually more well-behaved than boys
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
After breakfast, Katsuki rolled his sleeves up and started on the dishes, the sound of running water and clinking plates filling the kitchen. He jerked his chin toward the hall without looking at her.
“Go get dressed. I gotta head into work for a few hours,” he muttered, voice casual but steady.
Rosie nodded, brushing a hand down the hem of the oversized shirt he’d lent her before slipping out of the kitchen. She intended to head straight to the bedroom where her bag sat, but she stopped short in the hallway, feet rooted to the floor.
Her gaze had snagged on the canvas hanging against the wall. A hand-painted piece, clearly old, maybe done by someone who poured too much love into every brushstroke. It showed a pink-haired elf with wide blue eyes, a delicate figure draped in a tight black leather outfit covered in daggers, and beside her, a man with dragon traits, scales shimmering with hues of sunlight, its crimson eyes watchful and fierce.
Rosie tilted her head, lips parting faintly.
A ripple of something strange pressed against her chest—an ache she couldn’t name. Déjà vu.
She stepped closer, drawn in, her fingertips twitching as though they wanted to reach out and trace the careful detail of the elf’s hair, the gentle curve of her smile, the fierce protectiveness in the dragon’s stance.
Why did it feel familiar?
Her brow furrowed. She’d never been in his house before. She was certain of it. And yet, standing there, staring at that painting, it was as though her bones remembered something her mind didn’t.
A flicker of recognition, too faint to catch.
Her throat tightened. Uneasy, she finally tore her gaze away, forcing herself to continue down the hall. She slipped into Katsuki’s bedroom, her eyes briefly catching on the neatly made bed where Maya and Lady still lounged together, blissfully asleep. The sight softened something inside her, but she didn’t linger.
Her bag sat by the bathroom door—packed by Katsuki himself. He’d thought of everything, down to her favorite lotion and her favorite lip gloss. The sight made her chest warm in a way she wasn’t ready to unpack.
Shaking her head as though to clear it, Rosie ducked into the bathroom, telling herself she was just imagining things. That painting, that pull in her chest—it was nothing.
At least, that’s what she tried to believe.
Rosie slipped into her apartment, juggling Maya in her arms and her overnight bag slung across her shoulder. She nudged the door shut with her hip and let out a soft sigh. Maya gave a faint, sleepy mewl, and Rosie pressed a kiss to the cat’s head before setting her down gently on the couch.
“Home, finally,” she murmured, though the words carried more weight than just relief.
But there wasn’t much time to linger. Work was waiting, and if she didn’t hustle, she’d be late. Dropping her bag by the door, she padded quickly to her bedroom, stripping out of her clothes and heading straight for the shower. The hot water was fast but efficient, washing away the faint traces of the night before—the exhaustion clinging to her bones. She dressed quickly afterward, pulled her damp hair back into a loose bun, and was out the door again with her bag slung over her shoulder.
The bell over the café door chimed as she stepped inside, the familiar scent of butter, sugar, and coffee wrapping around her like a blanket. Kanako was already behind the counter, her sleeves rolled up, while Maerya was elbow-deep in flour, humming to herself as she kneaded dough.
“About time you got here,” Maerya teased without looking up.
“I’m still on time,” Rosie shot back, tying on her apron.
“Barely.” Kanako grinned, sliding a tray of pastries into the oven.
Rosie moved to join them in the kitchen, rolling up her sleeves. As she began lining up cooling racks, she finally broke the silence that had been pressing on her chest. “Something happened last night. After the party.”
Both girls looked up, instantly alert.
Rosie told them everything—how she and Katsuki had come back to her apartment only to find Maya collapsed and barely breathing, the frantic trip to the vet, the vet’s confirmation that she’d been drugged. By the end, Rosie’s voice was tight, her hands trembling faintly as she arranged croissants onto trays.
Kanako’s face paled. “Rosie… you have to tell your dad. This isn’t small. Someone broke into your place, drugged your dog? That’s—” She shook her head. “That’s serious.”
Maerya leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, eyes sharp with concern. “Kanako’s right. And if you won’t go to him, then you at least need to move. Or move in with someone for a while. I don’t like you staying there alone.”
Rosie pressed her lips together, staring at the flour-dusted countertop. “I don’t like it either,” she admitted softly. “And you might be right…”
The bell out front dinged. Rosie exhaled, grateful for the distraction. “That’s me. I’ll get it.” She untied her flour-streaked hands from her apron and slipped through the swinging door, stepping out into the front.
“Welcome—” She froze mid-greeting, blinking in surprise. “Riku?”
The older man standing by the counter looked just as startled to see her. “Rosie? What are you doing here?”
Her lips curved into a sheepish smile as she tucked a loose strand of damp hair behind her ear. “Working,” she said simply.
“Working?” He glanced around the café, then back at her with a confused laugh. “Since when? I thought you were working at Ignis?”
Rosie shrugged, grabbing a notepad even though she didn’t need to. “I quit.”
Riku’s brows rose. “You… quit?”
“Yeah,” she admitted, a little laugh slipping from her. “I missed this. I missed here. The smell, the people, the mess. It’s different. It feels like…” She glanced toward the kitchen where Maerya and Kanako’s voices carried faintly. “…home.”
Riku smiled, that easy, friendly curve of his lips. “Glad you’re back.”
Rosie couldn’t help but smile back, warmth flickering in her chest. “What can I get you?”
“The usual,” he said, then paused, glancing around the café like he was settling in. “Actually—open me a tab. I plan on staying for a bit.”
She tilted her head with a small grin. “Iced caramel macchiato coming right up.”
It didn’t take her long to whip it together, the sweet scent of caramel mingling with the coffee. Carrying it over, she set it gently on the table where Riku had spread his laptop and papers across the corner booth. His briefcase sat open, documents spilling out like he’d been living there half the day.
“Working overtime?” she asked, leaning lightly against the booth with curiosity.
“Yeah,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “My younger brother has been causing trouble, cutting into my work hours.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Rosie said, giggling softly at his weary expression.
“You have a younger sibling?” he asked, eyes flicking up to hers.
“Yes, Eri,” she answered warmly, her lips curving into a soft smile. “But she isn’t a troublemaker.”
“Girls are usually more well-behaved than boys,” Riku sighed, exasperation rolling off his shoulders.
Rosie chuckled, shaking her head. “I’ll let you get back to work then. Just let me know if you need anything.”
The hours slipped by in a steady rhythm. Rosie floated between tables, taking orders, cleaning up empty cups, and running drinks up to the second floor. She balanced trays with ease, slipping into the flow of the café she had once known so well. Between rushes, she perched at the counter, scribbling through her homework and stealing bites of her lunch, the bell of the door and the chatter of customers weaving into the background hum.
By the time the sun had dipped low and the windows glowed with the reflection of the city’s neon lights, it was time for her to clock out. Before heading out, she stopped at Riku’s table one last time, placing another iced caramel macchiato by his laptop with a smile.
“On the house,” she said softly.
Riku blinked up at her, surprised, then gave her a small smile in return. “Thanks, Rosie. Get home safe.”
“Will do,” she waved, pulling off her apron before calling a cheerful goodnight to Kanako and Maerya.
The night air hit her cool and crisp as she stepped out onto the street. She adjusted the strap of her bag and started down the sidewalk, weaving into the stream of people heading home from work. Middle schoolers chattered in pairs, college students laughed too loudly as they spilled out of cafés, and office workers trudged along with tired faces.
Yet… something felt off.
Halfway down the block, Rosie’s shoulders prickled. That gnawing awareness, the sensation of eyes on her, refused to fade. She slowed her pace just slightly, her gaze flicking casually over her shoulder. Nothing. Just the usual bustle of the evening.
Don’t be paranoid, she told herself, shaking it off with a quiet huff.
Still, the feeling clung stubbornly to her spine like a shadow. Her steps quickened, her heart giving a nervous thrum as she pushed past a group of students and turned onto her street. Every sound, the shuffle of footsteps, the distant car horn, the echo of laughter, felt amplified, sharp against the night.
By the time she reached her apartment building, her hands were trembling faintly. She slipped inside and locked the door behind her, pressing her back against it as she tried to shake the unease.
Without thinking, her hand went for her phone. Her thumb hovered only a second before pressing Katsuki’s contact. The line barely rang before he answered, his voice low but steady. “Doll?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” she said softly, trying to keep her tone casual. “Um… can you come stay with me tonight?”
There was a pause on the other end, the faint crackle of background noise. Then his voice dropped, rough but sure. “Yeah. I can be over later.”
Her chest eased, just a little. “Okay. Thanks, Katsuki.”
But just before she pulled the phone away, a sound bled faintly through the line—soft laughter. A woman’s voice. Her stomach dipped, something sour tightening in her chest. She swallowed hard, forcing her voice steady. “I’ll, um… go shower. See you later.”
She hung up quickly before he could say more, pressing the phone against her chest as she tried to breathe past the knot in her throat.
Rosie tried not to think about the voice she’d heard over the line. The laughter had been faint, muffled, but the sound stuck like a thorn in the back of her mind. Every time she replayed it, her stomach twisted tighter. She refused to dwell on it, refused to let herself imagine what it meant. Not now. Not tonight.
Instead, she showered quickly, tugging on soft pajamas and pacing her living room as the minutes ticked by. The shadows outside her window stretched long, and every creak of the building made her jump.
When the knock finally came, she didn’t hesitate.
Rosie swung the door open—and her breath caught. Katsuki filled the doorway, broad shoulders straining against his hero uniform, hair damp with sweat and dirt streaking his jawline. His gauntlets still hung heavy at his sides, the smell of smoke and gunpowder clinging to him.
Heat flushed her cheeks before she could stop it. God, he looked—dangerous, raw, alive. Something inside her tightened painfully, leaving her both embarrassed and breathless.
But instead of letting herself linger on that rush, she surged forward, throwing her arms around him. She didn’t care about the grime or the sweat soaking into her shirt—she just pressed herself close, burying her face against his chest.
“Katsuki,” she whispered, her voice trembling more than she meant it to. “I—after work, I felt like someone was following me. And after last night…” Her grip tightened, fingers clutching at the fabric of his uniform like it might keep her safe. “I just wanted you here.”
For a moment, he didn’t move. His body was tense, the heat of battle still radiating off him. Then, slowly, he exhaled, his arms coming up to wrap around her. His chest rumbled as he dipped his head closer, his breath brushing against her hair.
“Oi,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “You don’t ever have to deal with that shit alone. Rely on me. Always.”
The words sank deep, cracking something open in her chest.
Rosie squeezed her eyes shut, her throat thick. “Okay,” she whispered, clinging tighter.
And in that moment, she didn’t care about the laughter she’d heard over the phone. Didn’t care about anything except the way his voice sounded like a promise, warm and unshakable against the cold edge of her fear.
By the time Katsuki stepped out of the shower, steam curling out of the bathroom behind him. She fussed over him despite his grumbling, tugging at his damp hair with the towel and pushing him down until he let her rub his head dry.
“Quit it, I’m not a damn kid,” he muttered, though his mouth twitched at the corners.
“Mm, could’ve fooled me,” she teased, swiping one last lock of blond into place.
They ended up curled on the couch, Rosie tucked against him with her legs sprawled across his lap, Maya asleep in her basket in the corner. The world outside felt far away, the only sound the quiet hum of the city and the rhythm of Katsuki’s heartbeat beneath her ear.
She tilted her head up, catching him staring down at her with a softness she hadn’t expected. “What?” she whispered.
“Nothing,” he said, voice low, almost shy. “You’re just—here.”
Her chest squeezed, warmth spreading through her so sweet it almost hurt. They talked about nothing—her day at the café, his patrols, how she still put too much sugar in her coffee. It was sickeningly sweet, wrapped up in each other like they had all the time in the world.
Until the sound of a key turning in her lock shattered it. Rosie shot upright, Katsuki’s arm dropping away as the door opened.
“Rosie?” A familiar tired voice carried down the hall. Boots scuffed against the floorboards.
Her stomach dropped. “Dad.”
They scrambled, sliding to opposite sides of the couch just as Aizawa stepped fully into the living room. His scarf hung loose around his neck, his capture weapon still wrapped across his shoulders, and his uniform looked like he’d just come off a shift.
He smiled faintly when his eyes landed on Rosie—but then his gaze slid to Katsuki, freshly showered, hair damp. Aizawa’s face shifted immediately, his expression hardening into suspicion. “What’s going on here?” he asked flatly, voice carrying that edge Rosie knew all too well.
Rosie shot off the couch and ran to him, hugging him tight. “Dad! I thought you were still on assignment in Osaka!”
“I got off early,” he answered, squeezing her briefly before pulling back, eyes narrowing again on Katsuki. “Hawks called me. Said I should talk to you. Why is he here with you? And why did Hawks think I needed to know something?”
Rosie’s stomach twisted, guilt flashing hot in her chest. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to look at him. “Because… last night someone broke into my place.” Her voice wavered. “After the party, Katsuki drove me home and we found that Maya was drugged. Katsuki found her unresponsive, and he took her to the vet with me. And then tonight, I felt like someone was following me from work, so I called him.”
Silence pressed heavy in the room.
Aizawa’s frown deepened, his sharp gaze flicking between the two of them. Rosie twisted her hands in her pajama sleeves, her throat tight, praying he would understand.
Aizawa’s jaw tightened. His dark eyes flicked back to Rosie, narrowing with a sharpness that made her pulse skip. “You should’ve told me the moment it happened,” he said, voice low but firm. “Not Hawks. Not Bakugou. Me.”
Rosie flinched, her fingers twisting together. “Dad, I didn’t want to drag you out of Osaka—”
“That’s not your call.” His tone cut sharp, the kind of voice that ended arguments in the field, but Rosie wasn’t his student. No, she was his daughter. She planted her feet, refusing to back down.
“You’re at work!” she snapped, her voice cracking. “I was scared and Katsuki was physically with me. I’m sorry I didn’t think to call you first when I thought my dog was dying in my arms!”
The silence that followed was suffocating. Aizawa’s mouth pressed into a thin line, his face unreadable, but his shoulders were tight. “You think I wouldn’t drop everything if you were in danger?” His voice wasn’t sharp now—it was heavy, aching. “I’ve already lost too much. I won’t lose you too.”
Rosie’s throat closed up. “You’re not losing me,” she whispered, though her voice shook. “But I’m not a kid anymore, Dad. I can make decisions for myself. And last night, I needed him.” She jerked her chin toward Katsuki without thinking.
That was when Aizawa finally turned fully to him. The weight of his stare was enough to make the air feel thicker. “And what exactly were you doing here, Bakugou?”
Katsuki stiffened. He’d stood in silence through the entire thing, hands shoved into his pockets, jaw tight. He knew this wasn’t his fight. Still, his chest tightened at Rosie’s voice, at the raw fear in her words. He opened his mouth, then shut it again. One wrong word, and Aizawa would string him up like one of his first-year problem children. How in the hell did this man still intimidate him like he was a snot nosed fifteen years old kid again.
Rosie’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “He was protecting me,” she said sharply, stepping slightly in front of Katsuki like she could shield him from her dad’s glare. “He always has and I trust him.”
That stopped Aizawa cold. His eyes lingered on her for a long, heavy moment before shifting back to Katsuki, silent judgment written in every line of his face.
Katsuki’s throat worked. He didn’t flinch, but his stomach was twisted into knots. He wasn’t afraid of Eraserhead—not really. But standing in the middle of Rosie and her father felt like standing in the eye of a storm, knowing any second it could break.
Especially since he had so many secrets and truths he is hiding.
Notes:
The painting is in reference to chapter 32🤭
Anyway, lemme know your thoughts and I will see you guys tomorrow (I will get to responding to comments, lemme eat my soup and I will get on that as I have been sick the last two days 🤒)
Chapter 156: She is a gorgeous little thing, but I have a feeling that she isn’t into blondes
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Miyu.
Shota Aizawa stared at his daughter, his twenty-one-year-old daughter who looked so much like her mother that it almost hurt to breathe. The same eyes, the same soft mouth pressed now into a stubborn frown. Even the way she squared her shoulders, small and lithe as she was, was all Miyu—unshakable despite her size, fierce in her pride.
She looked exactly like Miyu had the day he first met her here in Tokyo, at twenty-one years old. A ghost of the past standing in front of him, yet entirely his daughter.
So much like her mother.
Miyu had been radiant in her compassion, in her endless ability to give and forgive, but she had also been quick to anger, unwilling to ever do anything half-hearted. When they fought, it was fire meeting stone—explosive, messy, raw. But the rare arguments only ever reminded him how alive she was, how bright.
And now Rosie. His darling girl. His sunshine.
Rosie carried every piece of her mother in her veins, in her spirit. She shone when she laughed, she cracked like thunder when pushed. Looking at her now, the way her lips pressed tight and her eyes narrowed at him in defiance, he was pulled back decades in time to every heated argument he’d had with Miyu, the woman who had stolen his heart and refused to ever give it back.
The resemblance was staggering.
But what gutted him most wasn’t her appearance—it was how much she’d grown away from him.
As a child, Rosie had been easy. She’d trusted him without hesitation, obeyed his rules, clung to his every word like they were scripture. Back then, she had been small enough to hold in his arms, young enough to believe he could fix everything. He had been her hero, even when he never wanted to be anyone’s.
But children grow. Rosie had grown into a young woman who no longer accepted his word as law, who asked her own questions, chased her own path. She was still his sunshine—but a distant one now, warm and bright but orbiting away from him. He hated it. Hated the reminder that she wasn’t his little girl anymore.
That was why, when she told him she wanted to move back to Japan after Miyu’s death, he had agreed without hesitation. Maybe too quickly. He had leapt at the chance, not just to keep her close, but to give her roots where Miyu once bloomed. She had spent every summer of her pre-teen and teenage years here, running through these streets, learning pieces of his homeland. And now, he wanted her to plant herself here, to stay tethered.
He had been eager to help her settle in. Eager to keep her under his watch. Eager to keep her safe. Because if Rosie slipped too far out of his orbit… he didn’t know if his heart could take losing Miyu all over again. For she left him a gift, who now stood a mere six feet away, in her living room, hands on her hips.
The longer Rosie stood there with her chin tipped up, eyes blazing in defiance, the more it became unbearable. It wasn’t just that she looked like Miyu—she was Miyu in that moment.
The same sharp tone, the clipped words she used when she was furious but trying to keep her voice level. The way she planted her hands firmly on her hips, as if to ground herself before she blew up. It was Miyu, through and through.
He could still remember one night, years ago—Miyu standing in their old apartment kitchen, berating him for working himself sick, voice rising and rising until she finally snapped and threw a dish towel at him. She had narrowed her eyes at him the exact same way Rosie was doing now, her lips pressed tight before they opened with a fiery string of words meant to cut straight through his walls.
And now, decades later, he was standing in another living room, listening to his daughter argue with him in that same tone, watching her mimic the very woman who had once shaken him to his core.
The resemblance was eerie. Terrifying. Heartbreaking.
For a flicker of a second, it was almost as if Miyu had returned—not as his wife, but as his daughter, staring him down with all her fire.
Rosie’s voice snapped him back to the present, sharp and unyielding, “Dad, I’m not a kid anymore. You can’t just decide everything for me!”
It was like hearing Miyu again. The same cadence. The same fire. The same need to be heard.
But unlike Miyu—who had chosen him, who had tethered herself to him through every storm—Rosie was his child. His little girl. And every word she threw at him now was a reminder that she was slipping away, no longer someone he could shield behind his shadow.
His chest felt tight, almost crushing. It was déjà vu, but crueler. Because this wasn’t Miyu arguing with him, this was his daughter—her legacy, her living echo—telling him that she didn’t need him the way she once did.
And for a man who had already lost once, it was almost unbearable to think he might be losing again, especially since she had already died last year. Had been in the hospital more times than he could count on his right hand. He had already buried his heart and the mother of his child. The thought of losing his daughter too was enough to hollow him out from the inside.
“Rosie, sunshine, please view it from my perspective,” he managed, his voice quieter than the fire that burned in his chest.
Rosie’s chin lifted higher, eyes sharp and unwavering. Just like her mother. Miyu had been capable of cutting through his defenses with one pointed look, forcing him to consider angles he hadn’t wanted to face. Rosie was the same—logical, thoughtful, able to weigh things critically. He and Miyu had raised her that way, had wanted her to grow into someone who could stand on her own two feet and she had. But right now, all he wanted was for her to bend. To listen. To let him keep her safe.
“No, Dad!” she snapped, voice ringing through the small apartment like a whipcrack.
The word pierced him deeper than it should have.
Because she was his daughter too, and that meant she had inherited his stubbornness—his refusal to back down, to take orders when she had already decided her course. She wasn’t a child anymore, not the little girl who once clung to his sleeve and looked to him for answers. She was standing her ground, and it was against him.
It wasn’t that he hated Bakugou. No, that wasn’t it. If anything, he was…grateful. Grateful the boy—no, the man—had been there. Grateful he had pulled Rosie out of danger, shielded her, time and time again, with a ferocity that mirrored his own. Katsuki had proven himself capable, reliable, a protector with the same focused, tenacity he witnessed in him since he first laid eyes on him.
But that didn’t ease the sour twist in his gut. It didn’t soothe the burn in his chest to know that Rosie was standing there, defending Katsuki against him.
It made him sick, the way she squared her shoulders and met his eyes, as if daring him to say Katsuki wasn’t good enough. As if daring him to deny what was so obvious: that she trusted him, leaned on him, maybe even liked him.
And Shota Aizawa, a man who had already lost his wife, couldn’t shake the fear that Katsuki Bakugou—no matter how good, no matter how protective—was another risk, another possibility of heartbreak, another way his sunshine could be taken from him.
Rosie’s fists curled at her sides, trembling with anger, but her voice was steady—too steady for someone her age. “You don’t get it, Dad. He’s the reason I’m still alive. Every time something has happened, Katsuki’s been there, every time. At least that is what I’m told from everyone, the news articles, and tabloids.”
She took a shaky breath, her eyes glossing, but she didn’t back down. “I’m safe. Everything is fine. You don’t need to keep hovering over me, because you raised me for this. You did. You taught me how to stand on my own two feet, how to fight, how to survive. You’re the one who made sure I knew how to protect myself.” Her lips quirked into the faintest smile, but it was laced with hurt. “I don’t need protecting anymore, Dad. Not like when I was little.”
The words hit him harder than any villain’s strike.
Because she wasn’t wrong. He had raised her that way. He had been the one to make sure she never walked into the world unprepared, even when Miyu thought he was being too harsh. Rosie had been sparring before she was ten, practicing disarms before most kids her age had learned to ride a bike. He had drilled her in discipline, in reading an opponent’s stance, in holding her own in hand-to-hand combat. He had made certain that, if the day came where he couldn’t reach her in time, she’d be able to hold her ground until he did.
He remembered long afternoons on the training mats, her small hands balled into fists, her face red with frustration when she couldn’t land a hit on him. How he would crouch down, wipe the tears of anger from her cheeks, and tell her to try again. How she always tried again. And again. Until the day came when she finally knocked him off balance, and she had laughed so hard she collapsed onto the mat.
Back when she wanted to be a Pro Hero and team up with him. When she ran around with his scarf, smiling and oh so eager to take on the world at his side.
She was right. She wasn’t defenseless. She wasn’t that little girl clinging to his sleeve anymore. She had grown into exactly what he had wanted her to be: capable, independent, strong.
And yet, standing here, staring at her defiant face—so much like Miyu’s—he couldn’t help but feel the sharp ache of grief and fear twisting inside of him. Because knowing she could protect herself didn’t make the thought of losing her any easier.
Aizawa dragged a hand down his face, his voice low and rough. This was a losing battle and he knew it from the get go. “Rosie, sunshine…” He shook his head, as though he was trying to push away the storm of emotions crowding in his chest. “I know I raised you strong. I know you’re capable. Hell, I trained you myself. But that doesn’t mean I stop worrying.”
Rosie blinked at him, the fire in her eyes flickering softer at the crack in his voice. Her lips trembled, but she pressed them together, not interrupting as he continued.
“I’ll relent,” he said finally, his gaze steady but heavy. “I won’t keep hounding you. But only if you start going back to the gym. Training again.” He crossed his arms over his chest, though it felt more like a shield than a challenge. “If you want me to believe you don’t need protecting, then prove it to me. Show me you still have that fight in you and until the day you can beat me on the mat again…” his voice hardened a fraction, “I won’t breathe another word about it.”
Rosie stared at him for a long, stunned moment. Then, slowly, a smile spread across her face. “Deal.”
Without hesitation, she stuck her hand out to him—firm, like she meant it.
Aizawa’s jaw tightened. His instincts screamed to refuse, to cling to his worry, but when he looked at her—the reflection of Miyu, the stubbornness of himself—he felt his chest cave. With a reluctant sigh, he reached out and took her hand.
Her grip was steady, strong.
His was hesitant, lingering with the weight of a man who was afraid of letting go, even a little. But still, he shook on it.
Silven’s was noisy that night, the kind of noisy Aizawa usually hated. Laughter bouncing off the walls, glasses clinking, the low hum of conversation mixing with Hizashi’s booming voice. But he didn’t complain when the blonde shoved another beer into his hand and leaned back with a grin that was far too knowing.
“So, lemme get this straight,” Hizashi said, shoving his shades up his nose dramatically. “Your little sunshine—your baby girl—is already relying on that snot nosed Dynamight for safety?”
Aizawa took a long drag of his beer, ignoring the way his friend’s grin widened. “Hizashi” he warned. “She is a grown woman who is capable of making her own decisions.”
“Pfft!” Hizashi barked out a laugh so loud, a few heads turned. “My dude, you call her ‘sunshine’ like she’s still in pigtails. Don’t even try to play the ‘she’s grown’ card with me.”
Before Aizawa could retort, the door opened and Hawks strolled in, feathers ruffling as he scanned the bar. Midnight followed behind him, sleek as ever in a leather jacket, her smile wide when she spotted the group.
“Ohhh, what’s this?” Midnight purred as she slid into the booth beside Aizawa, trapping him. “Is our favorite grumpy dad talking about his daughter again?”
Hawks leaned on the booth from the other side, grinning like a fox. “Don’t tell me little Rosie’s giving you trouble. Thought she was the golden child, Aizawa.”
“She is,” Aizawa muttered, scowling into his glass. “But she’s also stubborn. Too much like me and exactly like her mother.”
“Ahhh, Miyu,” Midnight sighed dramatically, resting her chin on her palm. “That woman was a firecracker, gave you a run for your money when it came to that stubborn streak. Guess Rosie inherited the best of both worlds.”
“And the worst,” Aizawa grumbled.
Hizashi nearly choked on his drink, laughing so hard his shoulders shook. “The worst part bein’ she doesn’t listen to you anymore, huh? Man, I wish I could’a seen your face when she went head-to-head with you!”
Midnight chuckled, clinking her glass against Aizawa’s. “What’s the matter, Shota? Can’t handle the fact your baby’s grown into a woman? I think it’s sweet. She’s strong and independent. Exactly how you raised her.”
“That’s the problem,” Aizawa snapped before sighing, rubbing his temples. His words softened, quieter. “She doesn’t need me anymore. Not really.”
For a moment, the table fell silent. Hawks tilted his head, his smile gentler now. “She still needs you, old man. Just… in a different way. Don’t confuse independence with distance.”
“And hey,” Hizashi piped up, grinning again. “At least she picked Dynamight! Kid’s rough around the edges, sure, but he’s a damn good hero. Better him than some rando punk with no prospects.”
“Exactly,” Midnight teased, her eyes glinting. “Could’ve been Hawks here.”
“Oi,” Hawks held his hands up, smirking. “She is a gorgeous little thing, but I have a feeling that she isn’t into blondes.”
That actually earned a quiet snort out of Aizawa, though he quickly drowned it in another drink.
The teasing rolled on—stories, laughter, light jabs—all with Aizawa sitting stoic, shoulders hunched, but his lips twitching every now and then. And though he’d never admit it, it felt… good. To share the weight of Rosie with the only people who really understood both sides of him: the Pro Hero and the father. A secret he had kept quiet about for nearly two decades from the world.
“Let’s be real,” Hawks said, leaning forward with a sly grin. “Dynamight’s not a bad catch. Kid’s volatile, sure, but he’s got guts, loyalty, drive. He’s the kinda guy who’d burn the whole damn world if it meant keeping her safe. And isn’t that what you want for her?”
Aizawa shot him a flat look. “I want her safe without someone blowing half the city block to do it.”
Midnight purred, lips curving in a teasing smirk. “Oh, come on, Shota. It’s obvious Katsuki worships the ground she walks on. Don’t you want your daughter with someone who sees her as the sun itself?”
“Exactly,” Hizashi barked, smacking the table. “That boy may be loud, but he’s all bark when it comes to Rosie. I’ve seen the way he softens when she’s around. It’s almost cute—if it wasn’t terrifying!”
“I don’t need any of you analyzing my daughter’s love life,” Aizawa muttered, rubbing his face.
“Oh, but we do,” Hawks shot back, feathers twitching with mischief. “Because it’s fun watching you squirm, Pops.”
Aizwa grounded out with a sigh. He would know if something was going on between them, Rosie is honest and didn’t keep secrets from him. Not his little sunshine. “They aren’t each other’s type. He doesn’t do relationships and he isn’t her type.” He stared down at his drink, completely missing the shared looks passed between Hizashi, Hawks, and Midnight.
A familiar voice carried over the crowd, breaking the silence. “Did I miss anything?”
They all turned to see Toshinori, All Might himself, ducking into Silven’s, tall even in his thinned-down form, waving sheepishly as he approached. Hawks all but lit up, wings fluttering like a cat’s tail when it spots prey.
“Oh, you came just in time!” Hawks grinned, sliding over to make room. “We were just talking about Eraser’s daughter and her boyfriend, Dynamight.”
“Not her boyfriend,” Aizawa said sharply. “She isn’t dating some Pro Hero.”
“Her boyfriend,” Midnight corrected with a sing-song tone, clinking her glass against Toshinori’s once he sat down.
Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something about needing stronger liquor.
But Toshinori, instead of teasing, just watched him quietly for a long moment. Then he leaned in, voice soft, weighty in a way that silenced even Hizashi. “You know… when Midoriya stopped looking to me for answers, I thought I’d lost him too.”
Aizawa’s head lifted at that, eyes narrowing slightly.
Toshinori continued, his voice steady but tinged with nostalgia. “During the war… he didn’t need my guidance in the same way anymore. He didn’t ask me what to do. He made choices, carried burdens, and I… I struggled. Because for so long, I was the one. The mentor. The pillar of Peace, who people but especially him looked to and then suddenly, I wasn’t.” His hands tightened around his glass, knuckles pale. “But what I learned was this, it didn’t mean he didn’t need me. It just meant he needed me differently. Not to lead, not to decide, but to stand beside him. To trust the man he was becoming, not the boy I had raised.”
The table was quiet, the words sinking in deep. Even Hawks, usually so quick with a quip, kept still, watching the exchange with an unreadable expression.
Aizawa’s jaw clenched, his throat thick. Toshinori’s words hit too close to home, too precise. Rosie’s face flashed in his mind—her fire, her stubbornness, her laugh so much like Miyu’s.
Toshinori placed a gentle hand on Aizawa’s shoulder. “You haven’t lost her. She’s just showing you she’s strong enough to walk without your hand holding hers. That’s not weakness—it’s your success as her father.”
For a long moment, Aizawa didn’t speak. His eyes dropped to the table, shoulders tense, before finally he let out a long, tired exhale. “…You’re still all insufferable,” he muttered, voice rough. But the corner of his mouth tugged upward, just barely, into the ghost of a smile.
The others, Hizashi, Midnight, and Hawks grinned wide, raising their glasses to the rare sight of it.
Notes:
I really need to stop hurting Aizawa like this😩 but ha! baited you guys thinking Katsuki was going to tell the truth🤭
Please let me know what memory you think is going to trigger her memory and why, I'm genuinely curious what you guys think it is🙂↕️
Thank you to those who wished me well💖 I truly appreciate you. I also want to take this moment to thank all of you who read my story and leave a kudos, but I especially want to thank those who comment on every single chapter. You mean the absolute world to me and you guys help morality when it starts to get low for me. Especially when I changed my schedule of posting everyday to just every other day, it made me nervous that I would lose you guys but I had to for my own health and my own enjoyment in wanting to read fics. So thank you, thank you to those who still continue to comment every single chapter as I remember you and I am thankful to you💖
As always, lemme know your thoughts and I'll see you guys in the next one🥹
Chapter 157: Be mine, Rosie
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki’s gaze lingered longer than he’d intended. Rosie stepped out of the women’s locker room, her tight tank top and leggings had him having dangerous lust filled thoughts about her. Her hair spilled over her shoulders until she began gathering it into a high ponytail, exposing the line of her throat, the toned stretch of her arms.
For a split second, he forgot where he was. Then he noticed them. A couple of guys across the mats had turned their heads, subtle but not subtle enough, their eyes tracking Rosie as she moved. One even muttered something under his breath to his buddy, and both chuckled.
Katsuki’s jaw ticked. His teeth ground together. Heat licked up the back of his neck, and before he realized it, he was glaring, a low growl caught in his chest. The sound drew one of the men’s eyes, who looked away instantly under the sharp blaze of Dynamight’s stare.
“Oi,” Katsuki snapped without thinking, voice low and dangerous. “Eyes off.”
The guys practically scrambled to focus elsewhere. Rosie, oblivious, tightened her ponytail and looked back at him with a bright smile. “Ready?”
“Tch. Yeah,” he muttered, crossing his arms to hide his scowl. No way in hell was he letting anyone else look at her like that again. As she joined him on the training mats, he cocked his head. “Alright, doll. Let’s see what you’ve actually got. Hand-to-hand. No quirks.”
Her brows arched. “You want a spar?”
“I wanna see what experience you’ve got left. See if you’re rusty.” He smirked, though there was challenge in his tone. “Unless you’re scared I’ll wipe the floor with you.”
She scoffed, stepping into stance, her eyes narrowing with fire that made his pulse kick. “Scared? You’re underestimating me, Katsuki.”
Then she moved. The first exchange was quick—she blocked his opening jab with a clean parry, twisting her hips to push him back. He countered with a low sweep meant to test her balance, only for her to hop and pivot, landing light as air. Her strikes weren’t wild; they were measured, sharp, drilled into her from years of repetition.
Katsuki’s eyes widened slightly as their movements picked up speed. He recognized discipline in her form, the kind of conditioning only someone like Aizawa could’ve drilled into her. Every punch, every dodge carried purpose.
When she slipped past his guard and landed a palm strike against his chest with surprising force, he actually stumbled back a step. “The hell—” Katsuki barked, catching himself.
Rosie smirked, breathing steady. “What’s the matter, Dynamight? Didn’t expect me to know what I’m doing?”
He wiped at his mouth, fighting a grin he didn’t want to admit was forming. His blood was humming, his adrenaline buzzing—but not from frustration. From pride and arousal.
“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, staring at her with something like awe. “Old man taught you well.”
Her expression softened for half a beat, then she smirked again, readying herself. “Told you not to underestimate me.”
Katsuki’s heart thudded harder in his chest. This girl—his girl—was full of more fire than anyone else could handle and fuck if that didn’t make him want her even more.
They circled each other on the mats, footsteps light, air tense. Katsuki’s lips were curled into that cocky half-smirk of his, but his eyes were sharp, tracking every twitch of her muscles, every shift of her balance. Rosie mirrored him, jaw set, determined not to give him the satisfaction of underestimating her again.
He lunged first—a fake-out jab high before dropping into a low kick. She blocked with her shin, wincing faintly at the sting but holding her ground. He noticed.
“Good block. Don’t flinch,” he barked, resetting into stance.
She came at him next, fists striking in a tight combo. He deflected, but not without effort; her knuckles grazed past his ribs once, and he grunted at the impact. She wasn’t weak, if anything, she was far from it.
Rosie spun into a kick aimed at his side, but he caught her ankle mid-air, twisting just enough to throw her off-balance before letting go. She stumbled back but didn’t fall, quickly resetting.
“Better if you put more weight behind that. You’ve got form, but you’re pulling too much,” Katsuki said, almost like a drill instructor.
“Or maybe you’re just a brick wall,” she shot back, sweat already beading along her temple.
Katsuki smirked, rolling his shoulders. “Both can be true.”
They clashed again—her speed against his raw explosiveness, though he kept his quirk out of it. She ducked under his punch and jabbed at his ribs, sharp enough to make him grunt. He retaliated, sweeping his leg out, but she leapt over it and countered with a kick to his chest. He caught her foot again, but this time she twisted and used the momentum to flip herself backward, landing on her feet with surprising grace.
That had him barking out a laugh, low and impressed. “Hell yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about. Didn’t think you had that in you, doll.”
“Guess you’ll have to stop underestimating me,” she said between breaths, eyes glinting.
They went another round, his strikes growing sharper, hers more calculated. Rosie blocked and deflected, but her breathing was getting heavier, her arms trembling slightly after every block. Her form was there—tight, precise—but her endurance… not so much.
Katsuki stopped, holding a hand out to signal pause. She straightened, panting lightly, cheeks flushed from the workout.
“Your old man drilled you good,” Katsuki admitted, voice low, grudgingly respectful. “You’ve got the instincts, the moves… hell, you surprised me more than once.”
Her lips curved in a little victorious smile, but before she could speak, he jabbed a finger at her chest.
“But you’re outta shape.”
Rosie blinked, her smile dropping. “Excuse me?”
He snorted, smirking again. “You heard me. You’re fast, you’re sharp—but you’re already winded. You need more stamina, more strength. Work out more. It’d make all the difference.”
Rosie crossed her arms, huffing. “So what—you’re saying I’m weak?”
Katsuki shook his head, stepping closer. “No. I’m saying you’re strong. You’ve got the skill. But if you train more, push yourself harder? You’ll be dangerous.” His smirk faded into something more serious. “And I’d rather you be dangerous than vulnerable.”
Something about the way he said it—rough, blunt, but honest—sent warmth blooming in her chest. Rosie lifted her chin, feigning annoyance just to cover it up. “So, what—you volunteering to train me then?”
Katsuki’s grin was sharp, all teeth. “Damn right I am. No one’s pushin’ you harder than me.”
The café was alive with the late afternoon rush, the air warm with the scent of roasted beans and fresh pastries. Rosie moved easily behind the counter, hair tied back, apron dusted faintly with flour and sugar. She was sliding a tray of croissants into the display when she felt it—eyes on her.
She glanced up, already smiling, only for it to falter into a startled laugh when she saw him leaning against the counter.
Katsuki, hands shoved into his pockets, smirk tugging at his mouth like he had all the time in the world.
“Well, well,” Rosie teased, reaching for a rag to wipe her hands. “Look who finally decided to grace us civilians with his presence.”
“Tch.” Katsuki rolled his eyes but didn’t move away. “I was in the area. Figured I’d check if you’re actually workin’ or just standin’ around lookin’ pretty.”
Rosie flushed, immediately ducking her head to hide it as she moved to the register. “You want something or just here to annoy me?”
“Both.” His smirk widened.
She sighed in mock exasperation, punching a few buttons on the screen. “Fine. What’ll it be, grumpy pants?”
Katsuki leaned forward on the counter, watching her too closely. “Black coffee.”
“Noted.” Rosie busied herself making a fresh pot. She could feel his gaze burning into her, and when she risked a glance, he was indeed still staring—eyes sharp, amused, but softer than he’d probably like to admit. “Stop looking at me like that,” she muttered, fiddling with the milk frother.
“Like what?” His voice was low, mocking.
“Like you’re judging me.”
“Who says I’m judgin’? Maybe I just like the view.”
Her hands fumbled, nearly spilling the cup. “Katsuki!”
He only chuckled, unbothered, leaning even further onto the counter until she could smell the faint smokey caramel scent that clung to him.
Finally, she set the drink in front of him, trying to look smug about it. She grabbed the sharpie and quickly wrote Drink up, Grumpy Pants<3
Katsuki blinked silently, swallowing thickly, then snorted—an honest, sharp sound of amusement. “You’re ridiculous.”
Rosie grinned, but when her eyes dropped back to the drink, the grin faltered. Her gaze lingered on the words and the heart. Something about it—about the silly doodle, the teasing words—struck her in a way she couldn’t explain. A strange pang twisted in her chest, followed by a heavy pressure at her temples.
She blinked, staring harder at the cup. Déjà vu?
Like she had done this before. Not here, not now—but somewhere. The heart, the words, the warmth in the air. Her head throbbed, fuzzy and blurred. She pressed her fingers briefly to her temple, frowning.
“Oi.” Katsuki’s voice cut through, rough but concerned. He was watching her now, frown replacing his smirk. “What’s with the face? You okay?”
Rosie forced a small laugh, shaking her head quickly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… headache.” She slid the cup closer to him with both hands, avoiding his eyes. “Here. Don’t complain if it’s too bitter.”
But even as he took the drink, Rosie couldn’t stop staring at the messy little chocolate heart. Something about it tugged at her memory, like a whisper she couldn’t quite catch and it left her unsettled.
The air was cool as Rosie left the café, tugging her cardigan tighter around herself while her bag bounced lightly against her hip. She’d stayed a little later than intended, but the streets weren’t empty yet. It was fine. She could walk home.
A familiar voice caught her ear. “Rosie?”
She turned, surprised to see Riku in casual clothes, most of the time he was always wearing a suit. He gave her a small smile, hands stuffed into his pockets.
“Oh—hey.” Rosie smiled back, polite warmth easing her nerves. “Heading home too?”
“Yeah.” He fell into step beside her easily. “Guess we’re neighbors tonight, huh?”
She chuckled softly. “Guess so. How’s work been?”
“Fine. Busy. Lots of people want to sue other people.” His laugh was short, but there was a strange edge to it.
Rosie tilted her head, frowning slightly. “You okay? You sound… off.”
“I’m fine,” he said quickly—too quickly. His eyes flicked toward her, burning with something she didn’t recognize. “I just… I see you with him all the time. That… Bakugou guy.”
Her smile faltered. “Katsuki? What about him?”
“He’s everywhere. Always around you.” His voice was picking up, manic, bitter. “I don’t get it—why him? Why not me?” Before Rosie could respond, Riku stepped closer. Too close. His hand shot up, gripping her arm as his lips crashed against hers.
Rosie froze for half a second, then her instincts roared back. She shoved him away and slapped him, hard, across the face. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” she snapped, anger and confusion blazing in her eyes. “Why are you acting like this?”
Riku’s cheek reddened, but his smile only widened—twisted, feverish. “Because I love you, Rosie! I need you! You’re supposed to be mine, don’t you see that?”
“No,” she spat, backing up. “I don’t see that at all.”
But he lunged, faster than she expected, dragging her into a narrow alley and shoving her hard against the wall. The impact rattled her ribs, but adrenaline surged.
“Riku—stop!” she yelled, pushing against him, but he only pressed closer, grip bruising her wrist.
“Be mine, Rosie,” he begged—no, demanded—eyes wild.
Her patience snapped.
With a quick twist, she planted her foot against the wall and flipped upward, hooking her legs around his neck. His eyes widened just as her thighs clamped down, cutting off his breath. He clawed at her legs, gasping, but she used her flexibility and training to lock him in tighter, choking him until his strength faltered. When his knees buckled, she shoved off the wall, flipping him down. He collapsed to the ground, wheezing.
Rosie landed in a crouch, breath quick, fury boiling. She kicked him square in the stomach once, twice, and then a third time for good measure, sending him rolling onto his side with a grunt. “Asshole,” she hissed, voice trembling.
She didn’t wait to see if he recovered. Her legs burned, her hands shook, but she bolted from the alley, heart hammering, only stopping when the café’s lights came back into view.
Just as she stumbled inside, Maerya was shrugging off her apron, clearly finishing her shift. “Rosie? Did you forget something?” Maerya asked, tilting her head.
Rosie shook her head too quickly. “No, I just… came back.” Her chest heaved, but she tried to smooth her voice.
Before Maerya could press, the door chimed. Varsas walked in, stretching with a pout. “Don’t tell me I missed your shift…”
“You did,” Rosie answered, forcing a smile.
Varsas’s frown deepened. Her eyes scanned Rosie, sharp, knowing. “Then why are you shaking so much, Rosie?”
Rosie swallowed, tugging her cardigan tighter. “I’m just… cold.”
Maerya eyed her but nodded slowly. “I’ll drive you home, alright? You shouldn’t walk.”
Rosie let out a small sigh of relief, nodding. “Thanks.”
Still, she turned back to Varsas, forcing cheer into her voice. “But hey—since you came all this way, I can make you a drink before I head out.”
Varsas blinked. “You’re off the clock.”
“I know,” Rosie said quickly, already moving behind the counter. “But I don’t mind.”
Her hands still trembled as she reached for the cups, but she focused on them—anything to keep the pounding fear in her chest from spilling into the open.
After making the drink and chatting for a bit, Rosie felt better about the whole ordeal and completely forgot about the entire thing by the time Maerya dropped her off at her apartment. She had sunk into her couch with Maya in her arms as she watched trashy reality tv until she fell asleep.
Rosie sat cross-legged on her living room floor, her laptop glowing faintly in the dim light of the apartment. The blank document on the screen mocked her, the cursor blinking in time with her rising frustration. Her hot chocolate sat steaming at her side, whipped cream piled high and dusted with cinnamon—her one comfort as she stirred lazily at it with her spoon.
“Film history, my mortal enemy,” she muttered under her breath, glaring at the screen. No matter how much she willed the words to come, her mind stayed stubbornly empty.
Her phone buzzed on the rug beside her. Rosie grabbed for it eagerly, grateful for any excuse to stop staring at that cursor. When she saw the caller ID, her face softened into a smile.
“Eri,” she breathed fondly, answering the call.
The screen lit up with her little sister’s face, framed by her snow-white hair, eyes shining as she propped her chin on her hand. “Rosie!” Eri chirped, her voice bubbling with the kind of joy only she could summon.
Rosie shifted, resting her elbow on her knee as she balanced the phone. “Perfect timing, kiddo. I was about two seconds away from throwing my laptop out the window.”
Eri giggled. “Don’t do that! Then you’ll never finish your paper.”
“Exactly my plan.” Rosie winked, making Eri laugh harder.
They talked for a bit, the conversation drifting to school and heroes and what Eri had been up to with Kota. Rosie caught the way her sister’s cheeks flushed whenever his name slipped in.
“You like talking about him a lot,” Rosie teased gently.
Eri’s blush deepened, but she hid her face behind her hand, grinning all the while. “Maybe…”
Rosie chuckled softly. “It’s cute. You don’t have to hide it from me, y’know.”
Eri peeked at her through her fingers before quickly changing the subject. “Anyway! Enough about me. What about you?”
Rosie blinked. “Me?”
“Yeah.” Eri leaned closer to the screen, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Why aren’t you dating Katsuki yet?”
Rosie sputtered, nearly spilling her hot chocolate. “Eri!”
“What?” Eri tilted her head innocently, but the sly smile on her lips betrayed her. “You guys are always together. And he looks at you like… like Kota looks at me.”
Rosie’s face warmed instantly. She tugged her blanket higher over her shoulders. “It’s… it’s not that easy.”
“Yes, it is,” Eri snorted, rolling her eyes. “You just tell him you like him, and then he tells you he likes you back, and boom—dating. That’s how it works.”
Rosie laughed weakly, burying her face in her hands. “Oh, if only it were that simple.”
“It is that simple!” Eri said, pointing at the screen like she was scolding her. “You’re just making it complicated.”
Rosie peeked through her fingers, grinning. “Maybe because you been hanging out with Akira too much as she makes it sound easy.”
Eri crossed her arms, shaking her head in mock seriousness. “Akira knows about love, Rosie. She just doesn’t waste her time being afraid of it. You shouldn’t either.”
Rosie stared at her little sister—so small, so young, and yet speaking like she had the wisdom of someone far older. She was a teenager now, so it only made sense she was getting experience in the department of love. Slowly, she smiled. “When did you get so smart?”
“I’ve always been smart,” Eri said, smirking.“I just don’t want you to miss out on something that makes you happy.”
Rosie’s chest tightened, but she pushed through the ache with a warm laugh. “Alright, alright. I’ll… think about it.”
“You’d better,” Eri teased, sticking her tongue out.
Notes:
That gym convo back in chapter 11🤭 and the drink up grumpy pants<3 is chapter 29
lemme know your thoughts and I will see you in the next one😁 (I promise to get to the comments, I've just been sleeping a lot the past couple of days)
Chapter 158: You fucked him right after he left my place after he fucked me!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Merialeth sipped her coffee slowly, the porcelain cup delicate in her gloved hand, her sunglasses shielding the sharp gleam of her eyes. She sat poised at a corner table of the café across the street, the perfect vantage point, with her companions settled beside her. To anyone else, they looked like an ordinary trio enjoying their morning coffee. But their focus was not on their drinks, nor the idle chatter.
It was on the girl inside.
Rosie moved gracefully around the café, hair tied back, apron slightly crooked as she hummed a tune under her breath. She balanced trays, wiped down tables, exchanged warm smiles with strangers—an ordinary girl doing ordinary things. Yet every small movement made the air around her ripple, a weight none of the humans in the shop could feel.
“She doesn’t even know,” the older woman muttered, pushing her spectacles up the bridge of her nose as she exhaled into her coffee. Her voice was tinged with impatience. “Remind me again why we cannot simply… nudge her? A whisper here, a dream there, and the memories would return.”
Merialeth didn’t turn her head, but her smile curved, faint and knowing. “Because if we force it, her mind will fracture. She’s endured too much already. Another push in the wrong place, and she’ll break completely. We cannot risk that.”
The older woman sighed, drumming her fingers against the table in frustration. “So we sit and we watch. I tire of waiting.”
Her elder brother had been silent until now. He leaned forward slightly, crimson eyes narrowing as they followed Rosie’s every step. His voice, when it came, was low and reverent. “She truly is beautiful,” he said softly, as though the words were not meant for them at all but spoken to some ghost of the past only he could see. “Just like the drawings Father kept… the portraits Uncle preserved. Even then, they did her no justice.”
Rosie laughed at something a customer said, and the sound seemed to catch him in the chest. His fingers tightened on his cup.
Merialeth tilted her head toward him, studying his rare display of sentiment, though she said nothing.
The bell above the café door chimed then, and Katsuki strode inside with all the casual arrogance of someone who knew he owned the room. Rosie’s head lifted instinctively, her face brightening at the sight of him. They exchanged words at the counter—her scolding him lightly, him smirking in return, leaning just close enough to fluster her. The air between them crackled.
The crimson-eyed man exhaled slowly, almost wistfully, as he watched. “It’s not every day one is able to witness their parents fall in love all over again.”
The older woman bristled at his phrasing, fingers tightening around her porcelain cup until the handle nearly snapped. But Merialeth only smiled wider, her lips painted with an unsettling calm. She traced the rim of her cup as though it were a sigil, her eyes never leaving Rosie inside the café.
“No,” she murmured, voice low and thoughtful. “Not every day at all.”
“How many more times are they to suffer the same fate?” the older woman pressed, her voice sharp with frustration. “How many times must she lose him, only to be left alone again? The cycle is cruel.”
Merialeth hummed softly, almost as if amused by the desperation in her tone. “Take that up with the All-Father.”
At that, the woman’s face blanched. Her jaw tightened, her hands trembling against her cup. “It’s been ten thousand years since she first gave up her divinity for love. Ten thousand years of exile, of reincarnating only to find him and one of them die. Surely—even he cannot hold a grudge for that long.”
Merialeth snorted, the sound cutting through the morning chatter of the café like a blade. “Indeed, he can. You don’t know him the way I do, Rynae.” Her smile turned sharp, knowing. “He remembers every slight. Every betrayal. Time does not dull him—it sharpens.”
The crimson-eyed man, who had been watching Rosie with rapt attention, finally tore his gaze from her to glance between his sisters. His voice was steady but carried a quiet weight that silenced them both. “Enough. We already tried and failed to sway him. Do not speak as though we could ever change the All-Father’s mind.”
Rynae waved him off with a sharp gesture, her frustration bubbling over. “So what, then? We just sit here like cowards? Watch her stumble blind into the same tragedy, again and again? We can’t just do nothing! She is our mother.”
Merialeth’s smile vanished in an instant, replaced by the cold steel of command. Her sunglasses slid down her nose just enough for the faint glimmer of inhuman eyes to catch the light. “We can,” she said flatly. “And we will.”
The words carried a finality that brooked no argument, though Rynae opened her mouth to protest again.
Merialeth leaned back in her chair, folding her hands neatly in her lap as though she were already bored with the conversation. “She will reach out to me soon. She always does. And when she does, things will move exactly as they were meant to. The pieces are already in motion. Trust the design.”
The crimson-eyed man returned his gaze to Rosie, softening just slightly as she laughed at something Katsuki muttered to her across the counter. His voice, though calm, was tinged with something bittersweet.
“And when the design demands she breaks?”
Merialeth sipped her coffee again, her smile returning—serene, almost cruel in its certainty. “Then she will break, and from the pieces, she will remember who she truly is.”
“So you’re ditching me for guys’ night, huh?” Rosie hummed teasingly as she crouched to arrange a tray of fresh pastries into the display case, the warm scent of cinnamon and butter wafting between them.
Katsuki leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his sharp grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah, unfortunately. Deku’s losing his damn mind over his vows, and apparently it’s my job to keep him from combusting before the wedding.”
Rosie giggled, glancing up at him through her lashes. “I think it’s sweet.”
He raised a brow. “Sweet? You’re callin’ that panicky nerd sweet?”
She nodded firmly, a mischievous smile tugging her mouth. “It’s lovely to see someone so committed to their fiancé. He wants everything to be perfect for her.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth softened. “Tch. Guy’s always been obsessed with perfection.”
“And you’re not?” Rosie countered, tilting her head.
That earned her a scoff. “Not the same thing. I don’t crack under pressure.” His eyes narrowed, a spark of heat lighting in them. “I perform.”
Rosie laughed under her breath, closing the display case with a little click. “Oh, is that what you call it? Performing?”
“Damn right,” he smirked, leaning just a little closer across the counter. “I’d show you sometime, if you think you can handle it.”
Her cheeks warmed, but she didn’t back down. Instead, she propped her chin on her hand, mirroring his lean, her voice low and teasing. “Maybe I’d surprise you.”
For a moment, the air between them tightened—his gaze dropped to her lips, her heartbeat skipped, and Katsuki shifted closer, his hands pressing against the counter like he was bracing to bridge the gap.
But just as he tilted in, the bell above the café door jingled. A pair of new customers walked in, chatting animatedly, completely oblivious to the tension they’d shattered.
Katsuki froze, his jaw flexing with irritation before he pulled back with a sharp sigh. “Perfect timing,” he muttered under his breath.
Rosie straightened quickly, cheeks pink, forcing a polite smile toward the customers as she pushed some hair behind her ear. Katsuki scrubbed a hand over his face, then shot her one last look, something smoldering and frustrated, before pushing off the counter.
“I’ll be in Yokohama,” he said, voice a little rougher than usual. “Will you be alright here?”
Rosie glanced at him, her smile softening, steady in contrast to his storm. “Of course. Go and have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He hesitated for a beat longer than necessary, then gave a short nod before striding past the new arrivals, the door chiming again as he left. Rosie watched him go, her chest fluttering and unsettled all at once.
Plastering on a smile, she grabbed her pen and notepad. “Welcome to Ishlamare! I’m Rosie! What can I get you?”
Hours slipped by before Rosie was finally able to clock out, her fingers stiff from typing and her feet aching from standing on the café’s polished floors all day. She waved goodbye to Yui and Limeria, their cheerful voices fading behind her as she stepped out into the cool evening air. The glow of the streetlights reflected off the wet pavement, and she spotted her taxi already waiting.
Sliding into the backseat, she offered the driver a tired but genuine smile and a polite thanks as she leaned back, letting the soft hum of the car soothe her frayed nerves. Katsuki had insisted on this arrangement—if she wasn’t going to learn how to drive, he’d make sure she got home safely without having to walk in the dark. She’d protested at first, worried about the expense, but he’d only shrugged with that infuriating smirk of his. “I don’t care. I don’t like the idea of you walking alone at night.”
She missed him already.
She knew he was out with his friends, letting loose after a long week, and while she wanted him to enjoy himself, her heart ached at the thought of him not being there for their plans.
They had promised each other a quiet night in. He was going to cook dinner while she lounged on the couch, sipping wine, painting his toenails because she had been begging him for weeks. They’d planned to watch a movie afterward, and then cuddle under a blanket.
Now, all that lay ahead was the soft hum of the taxi engine and her own restless thoughts. She pressed her forehead to the cool window, watching the city lights blur into streaks of gold and white, and imagined Katsuki at this very moment, probably leaning back in a chair with a smirk, surrounded by the noise of his friends and calling them dumbasses
A small smile tugged at her lips despite the pang in her chest. She loved his independence, his fire, and the way he owned every room he walked into—but she also loved their quiet nights, the moments when it was just the two of them.
When Rosie opened the door to her apartment, she froze for a split second, blinking at the small brown paper bag perched on the counter. Curious, she stepped inside, kicking off her shoes, and leaned over to peek inside. Her heart warmed at the sight. A perfectly slice of tiramisu from the café they’d gone to last week—and a small note scribbled in his unmistakable scrawl:
For when you miss me. Eat it slowly. Don’t burn the oven again. —K
Rosie couldn’t help but grin, her chest swelling with affection. She snapped a quick picture and sent it to him.
Rosie: Thanks, you grumpy pants. You’re impossible 🫶
A minute later, her phone buzzed almost immediately—Katsuki’s response was a simple,
Pomchi: Not impossible. Yours
Rosie laughed quietly to herself, tucking the note into her pocket as a keepsake.
Freshly showered, she had just tossed her clothes into the dryer when Maya padded after her, her tiny nails tapping against the floor. Rosie hummed as she settled onto the couch, Maya curling up in her lap and immediately dozing off. She grabbed the TV remote and pressed play on one of her guilty-pleasure trashy reality dating shows, balancing a large slice of pizza in one hand and her wine glass in the other.
Not a bad way to spend her night.
“You fucked him right after he left my place after he fucked me!” one of the contestants snapped, voice dripping with drama.
The other scoffed, “Because you couldn’t get him off.”
Rosie nearly choked on her pizza, snorting into her wine. These shows were absurd, ridiculous, and yet utterly entertaining. She leaned back, the warmth of the apartment and the simple sweetness of Katsuki’s thoughtfulness settling around her like a blanket.
Rosie was halfway through her second slice of pizza when the show spiraled into full chaos—two contestants had thrown wine at each other, another was fake crying into the arms of some bewildered guy, and the host looked two seconds away from quitting on live television. Rosie laughed so hard her stomach hurt.
On impulse, she grabbed her phone and snapped a blurry photo of her screen, thumbs flying.
Rosie: Tell me why I feel like you’d be the guy in the background rolling his eyes and leaving mid-argument 😂🍷
The response was immediate.
Pomchi: Damn right. Waste of my fucking time. Could be doing something better.
She smirked, typing back.
Rosie: Like what? Fighting a villain? Cooking dinner? Pretending you don’t like it when I make you try glittery face masks?
Three dots flickered, then disappeared. Reappeared. Then his reply finally came.
Pomchi: Like shutting you up with a kiss before you talk too much, dumbass.
Rosie laughed so loud Maya stirred in her lap, giving her a grumpy little bark. She petted her fur, cheeks warm as she sent back.
Rosie: Big talk for someone who isn’t even here, mister.
This time, his reply came with a picture—of a crowded bar, his friends in the background making ridiculous faces, Deku clearly already stressed even while holding a soda.
Pomchi: Told you I’d rather be there. Don’t wait up.
Her heart squeezed. She set her phone down, sipping her wine with a grin she couldn’t quite shake.
Later that night, full of wine, leftover pizza, and the tiramisu Katsuki had left her, Rosie had somehow brushed her teeth, washed her face, and stumbled into bed. Maya dutifully followed, hopping up to curl against her side. The apartment was quiet, peaceful. Everyone else she knew seemed to be tangled up in their own significant others tonight, and though she tried not to dwell on it, Rosie felt a small pang of loneliness before she drifted off.
That’s why she woke up so disoriented when pounding rattled her front door at three in the morning.
Her heart leapt into her throat. She rubbed her bleary eyes nd tugged down one of Katsuki’s old t-shirts that she’d stolen weeks ago. Maya was already barking, tail wagging like she knew exactly who was on the other side.
Dragging her feet, Rosie made her way toward the door, muttering under her breath. “If this is some drunk neighbor who forgot their key…”
She unlocked it and pulled it open—only to freeze.
“Katsuki?”
He was there. Leaning on her doorframe, eyes a little glazed, his usually sharp movements sluggish. The smell of alcohol lingered on him, though he wasn’t sloppy—just heavy-limbed, messy-haired, and with that rare vulnerability in his face that came only when he let his walls slip.
Rosie’s mouth fell open. “Why are you here? You’re supposed to be in Yokohama with the guys.”
He grinned—soft, crooked, and far too unguarded. “Missed you.” His voice was rough, low, and slurred just enough to melt something in her chest.
Rosie blinked, heat rushing to her cheeks. “You—you left? You came all the way back because of me?”
He shrugged, wobbling slightly, and she hurried to catch his arm before he tipped forward. “Told you. Couldn’t stop thinking about you. So I said screw it. Came home.”
Rosie stood there in her doorway, holding onto him, her heart pounding in her ears. He looked down at her—like she was the only thing in his world worth focusing on—and for the first time, she wondered if Eri and Maerya were right.
Maybe it really was that easy.
Rosie barely managed to tug him inside and shut the door behind them, steadying his weight against her. He wasn’t that drunk—just past the point of pretending he wasn’t affected, his usual sharp edges dulled to something boyish and almost helpless.
“Alright, big guy, couch or bed?” Rosie asked gently, slipping his jacket off his shoulders.
“Bed,” he muttered without hesitation, leaning down until his forehead nearly bumped her shoulder. “Yours.”
Her cheeks warmed, but she didn’t argue. With careful nudging and tugging, she got him down the hallway, Maya trotting at their feet like an overexcited chaperone. When she finally coaxed him to sit on the edge of her bed, he caught her wrist, tugging her closer with surprising strength for someone so sluggish.
“Don’t go,” he mumbled. His crimson eyes were glassy, but burning all the same. “Don’t leave me, Rosie.”
Her chest squeezed, so tight it almost hurt. She knelt down in front of him, brushing the sweaty fringe of blond hair from his face. “I’m not going anywhere. Just gonna get you some water, okay?”
But Katsuki shook his head, clutching her hand like a lifeline. His words tumbled out unfiltered, the way they never did when sober. “I was sitting there with those extras, and all I kept thinking was—fuck, I gotta get home. Gotta get back to you. I didn’t wanna be there, I wanted—” His voice cracked, and he ducked his head, pressing her hand to his cheek. “Wanted this. Wanted you.”
Rosie’s throat went dry. “Katsuki…”
He exhaled shakily, words spilling like a flood he couldn’t stop. “I don’t care if it makes me pathetic. I kept seeing you in my head. Thought about you waiting on me, thought about you laughing at some dumb show with Maya, thought about you in my damn shirt—” His voice lowered, raw, almost desperate. “And it killed me that I wasn’t here.”
Rosie’s eyes stung, her heart hammering so hard she swore he could hear it. She shifted, sitting beside him on the bed, her hand still trapped in his. “You came back,” she whispered.
“’Course I did,” he murmured, leaning against her shoulder now, heavy and warm and so painfully human. “Always will.”
Rosie swallowed hard, curling her free arm around him. He clung instantly, like he’d been waiting for her to hold him. For once, Katsuki Bakugou, the boy who set the world on fire with his pride, was just a tired, needy man who wanted to be hers.
Notes:
have been missing vulnerable, drunk, and needy Katsuki sooo here you go<3 also posting this one early because I am still sick and don't have the energy
Chapter 159: You’re mine to fatten up.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Yes,” Rosie hummed softly, keeping her voice low as she tucked her phone between her shoulder and ear. Her fingers threaded absently through messy blond hair that smelled faintly of smoke and whiskey. “He just got to my place.”
Kirishima’s loud sigh of relief crackled through the speaker. “Thank god . I was wondering where he went. One minute he was pounding shots, the next he was yapping about needing to get to you and ditching us losers. We thought he’d at least call a cab.”
Rosie felt her cheeks heat, her gaze dropping instinctively to the man in question. Katsuki had his head buried against her stomach, both arms banded tight around her waist like she was the only thing tethering him to the earth. Even now, half draped across her lap on the edge of the bed, he refused to let go, his breath warm and uneven against her skin.
“I… see,” she murmured, trying not to sound as flustered as she felt.
As if hearing she wasn’t fully paying attention to him, Katsuki groaned low in his throat, pressing his face harder into her. His voice came out muffled, petulant. “Who the fuck are you talking to?”
Rosie winced at his tone, brushing a soothing hand along his back. “Just Kirishima. He was worried.”
“Don’t care,” Katsuki muttered, tightening his grip until Rosie nearly dropped her phone. He tilted his head back just enough to glare blearily up at her, his crimson eyes glazed but sharp enough to make his point. “Hang up.”
“Katsuki—” Rosie began, only to squeak when he buried his face in her stomach again with a frustrated growl, nuzzling like a stubborn cat.
“Don’t like it,” he complained, voice rough and childish all at once. “You’re talkin’ to him instead of me.”
Rosie bit her lip, torn between laughing and melting entirely. Into the phone, she whispered, “Kiri, I’ll call you back later, okay?”
Kirishima chuckled knowingly. “Yeah, don’t worry. He’s your problem now. Night, Rosie.”
She hung up, but before she could even set the phone aside, Katsuki was tugging it right out of her hand, tossing it carelessly onto the nightstand. “There. Done. No distractions.” He huffed, then gave her the most ridiculous pout—his brow furrowed, lips turned down, eyes heavy-lidded.
“Happy now?” she teased softly, brushing her thumb across his cheek.
“No,” he muttered stubbornly, tightening his arms around her middle. “Won’t be happy until you’re just… here. Payin’ attention to me. ‘M not sharin’ you tonight.”
Rosie’s heart flipped. He was a mess, clingy, whiny, needy , and yet she had never seen him so open, so unguarded. He was her grumpy, fiery Katsuki…but stripped down to something vulnerable and achingly human.
So she gave in, settling back against the pillows with him clutched firmly to her. “Alright, Katsuki,” she whispered, pressing a kiss into his hair. “You’ve got all of me tonight.”
Judging by the content little sound he made against her chest, that was all he wanted.
Rosie moved about the kitchen with deliberate care, her footsteps soft against the floorboards as the first light of dawn crept through the curtains. She tied her hair up out of her face, humming faintly under her breath while she worked. The pan hissed quietly as she dropped butter into it, the comforting smell of toast already filling the air. She stole a glance down the hall toward the bedroom, relieved Katsuki was still asleep. He’d looked so peaceful sprawled across her sheets—rumpled blond hair in his face, lips parted slightly, and one arm thrown across the empty space where she’d been.
She didn’t want to wake him. After the night he’d had—drinking, stumbling into her apartment at three a.m., clinging like his life depended on it—he needed the rest.
Or so she thought.
Heavy footsteps shuffled behind her before strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back into solid warmth. Rosie squeaked, nearly dropping the spatula, until the low rasp of his voice ghosted over her ear.
“Thought you were sneaky, huh?” His words were rough, gravelly, still laced with the slur of leftover whiskey. “Leavin’ me in bed alone.”
“Katsuki,” Rosie whispered, smiling despite the heat rising to her cheeks. “I was just making us breakfast.”
“Don’t care,” came the rasp, his voice low, gravelly with sleep and just a trace of leftover whiskey. He buried his face against the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply as if her scent itself was enough to soothe him. Ppressing a kiss to her shoulder, lips warm and clumsy but achingly gentle. Her heart tripped over itself as he tightened his hold, molding himself flush to her back. The faint stubble of his jaw scraped her shoulder when he murmured again, almost slurring, “You left me, idiot. Don’t leave me again.”
Rosie’s hands trembled slightly on the spatula as she tried to focus on the sizzling pan in front of her. “I didn’t leave,” she whispered, smiling despite the heat crawling up her cheeks. “I was just making us breakfast.”
“You’re more important than food.” He grumbled
Rosie reached one hand down to lace her fingers through his, squeezing softly. “Alright,” she murmured. “Just… stay with me here then.”
Katsuki hummed low, a sound more felt than heard, before resting his head fully against her shoulder. His grip didn’t slacken—if anything, it grew tighter, as if letting go would undo him entirely. He hummed, a sound vibrating through her spine, before dropping a lazy kiss to her shoulder. Rosie tried her best to stir the pan with one hand, though he refused to let her go, clinging like a child who might lose his favorite toy if he loosened his grip.
By the time the food was done, she had an armful of Katsuki practically draped over her back. “Okay, clingy,” Rosie teased with a breathless laugh as she plated scrambled eggs and toast. “You’re going to have to let me go eventually.”
“Nope,” he muttered into her hair. “Figure it out.”
So she did.
Rosie leaned against the counter, balancing the plate in one hand while Katsuki remained wrapped around her like a weighted blanket. She cut a bite of eggs with her fork, twisting just enough to lift it to his lips.
His red eyes cracked open, hazy but glinting as they landed on her. With a low grunt, he opened his mouth and let her feed him, chewing slowly before smirking faintly. “Not bad.”
“Not bad?” she repeated, pretending to be offended. “That’s all I get after cooking one-handed with a barnacle glued to my back?”
Katsuki snorted, his arms tightening as he pressed another kiss against her shoulder blade. “Fine. Pretty damn good. But only ‘cause it’s you.”
Rosie’s cheeks flushed, but she rolled her eyes anyway, trying not to grin as she scooped another forkful and nudged it at his mouth. “Good boy,” she teased.
He growled low in his chest, though he still leaned forward to take the bite, his lips brushing the tips of her fingers as he did. When she pulled her hand back, his smirk widened. “You’re askin’ for trouble, angel.”
Rosie’s heart stuttered, but she only laughed softly, feeding him again. “Eat your breakfast, grumpy pants.”
Rosie tried, she really did, to move him toward the table, but Katsuki refused to let go. His grip was iron-tight around her waist, his head dropping into the curve of her neck like he was afraid she’d vanish if he so much as blinked.
“Katsuki,” she whispered, laughter trembling at the edge of her voice. “We can sit, you know. The food will get cold.”
“Don’t care,” he mumbled, lips brushing her skin as he spoke. His breath was warm, his tone heavy with sleep and lingering alcohol. “You’re warm. Smell good. Taste better.”
Rosie’s knees nearly buckled. “You haven’t even kissed me this morning,” she teased softly, trying to keep the flutter in her chest at bay.
“Did last night,” he countered, pressing a lazy kiss against her shoulder blade, then her neck. His voice cracked, softer now. “Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about it on the train. Didn’t matter how much those idiots talked, or how much I drank. Just wanted to come home.”
Her heart squeezed. “But Yokohama—”
“Don’t care about Yokohama.” His grip tightened, pulling her flush against him. “Care about you. Woke up this morning with your smell on me—your shampoo, your bed—you’re everywhere.” His voice dipped, raw and unguarded. “I like it. Don’t want it gone.”
Rosie blinked hard, swallowing against the lump in her throat. Slowly, she set the fork and plate down on the counter, letting herself turn in his arms. His hair was a mess, his eyes half-lidded and red-rimmed, but god, he was beautiful like this—soft, unarmored.
“Katsuki…” she whispered.
He leaned his forehead against hers, his voice low, pleading. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ll never let you go.”
Her hands slid up his chest, curling around the back of his neck. “Then don’t,” she said gently.
For a moment, he just held her, silent except for the sound of his shaky breath against her ear. Then, like a stubborn child, he grumbled, “Still hungry, though.”
Rosie laughed, tears threatening to spill, and picked the plate back up. “Alright, barnacle. But only if you loosen your grip enough for me to feed you.”
He shook his head, smirk tugging at his lips despite his half-asleep haze. “Nope. You figure it out.”
So she did—balancing the plate awkwardly while he stayed plastered to her, feeding him bite by bite. He hummed like it was the best damn thing he’d ever tasted, nuzzling her between every mouthful, whispering things he’d never admit sober.
“Better than anything in Yokohama.”
“Don’t leave me, Rosie.”
“You’re it. You’re my home.”
Rosie, blushing and fighting a smile, fed him every bite, letting him cling as much as he wanted. Because truthfully—she didn’t want him to let go either.
“Y’know with our track record, my dad is going to walk in on us,” Rosie hummed. She peered down at Katsuki sprawled between her legs, his head resting comfortably against her stomach. Her fingers were buried in his wild hair, absently scratching his scalp.
Katsuki grumbled, eyes closed. “What do you suggest then? Because I ain’t stopping from holding you like this.”
She smiled faintly. “Why not go to your place?”
That got his attention. He stilled, his head lifting slowly until his sharp eyes locked on hers. “You wanna come over to my place?”
Rosie blinked at him, amused. “Yeah, that’s why I suggested it.”
And then he moved—fast. Before she could even react, Katsuki was up on his feet, already striding toward her bedroom. Rosie sat there blinking at the sudden loss of warmth before sighing and dragging herself up after him.
When she entered her room, she froze. Katsuki was moving around like a storm, grabbing her things with zero hesitation—her bag from the closet, tossing clothes in, even her charger off the nightstand.
“Um…” Rosie leaned on the doorframe, thoroughly confused. “What are you doing?”
“Packing,” he answered flatly, crouched by her dresser as he stuffed a hoodie into her bag.
Her brows furrowed. “For what?”
“We’re going to my place,” he said like it was obvious, like it was already decided.
Rosie laughed in disbelief. “Katsuki, why are you packing so much? I just meant—”
“You’re staying with me for the next couple of days.” His tone left no room for argument, eyes flicking to her like he dared her to protest.
Her jaw dropped. “What? Katsuki, I—” She broke off laughing, shaking her head. “We aren’t even dating.”
That made him pause. He squinted at her, sharp and unamused. “Are you a dumbass?”
Her mouth opened. “No?”
“You’ve been mine since I first kissed you,” he said bluntly.
Her heart lurched. “…so June?”
Katsuki went quiet, his expression tightening. Then he exhaled through his nose, stepping toward her with steady, sure strides. She barely had time to react before his hand cupped her jaw, tilting her face up.
“Katsuki—”
He cut her off by kissing her, hard and certain, like he needed to brand the truth into her. Rosie gasped into it, knees weakening instantly. His lips were warm, his hand firm against her cheek, and the world tilted on its axis.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead pressed to hers, his voice was a rough murmur. “I don’t give a shit about labels. You’re mine, Rosie. Been mine since that first kiss. I don’t need to ask, I don’t need to wait. I just know.” His thumb brushed across her cheekbone, his gaze burning into hers. “You’re it for me. You’re my home. So quit actin’ surprised when I say I’m not letting you go.”
Rosie’s breath hitched, her whole body gone soft and trembling under the weight of his words. Her heart fluttered wildly, her knees weak, her chest achingly full. “Katsuki…” she whispered, utterly undone.
“Yeah, doll?” he murmured against her lips, kissing her again like she was the only thing keeping him alive.
She couldn’t find the words—only the helpless truth that she was his.
“O–okay…” she finally breathed, dazed and weak in the knees.
Pulling away, Katsuki smirked, his hand sliding down before giving her a sharp pinch on the butt that made her yelp. “Now go and pack the cottonswab’s things.”
Numbly, she obeyed, moving toward Maya’s little corner. She bent down, gathering the pup’s toys and food, still trying to process the fact that Katsuki had just casually claimed her in the most Katsuki way possible. By the time she finished, he had not only packed a bag for himself but had also stuffed her schoolbag full with books and notebooks. He kissed her cheek on his way past, plucking Maya’s bag from her arms so she could scoop up the tiny pup instead.
When they got to his place, Katsuki immediately handed her off a task with no room for argument: “Go unpack your stuff upstairs. Bedroom’s yours now.”
Rosie had rolled her eyes but did as she was told, tugging clothes out of her bag and folding them into his dresser. His bedroom had been stark before—black, gray, clean lines. It didn’t take long for her things to soften the edges, her makeup bags and skincare lined neatly on one side of the double sink counter, her pastel sweater draped on the chair in the corner, her perfume bottle tucked next to his cologne. The effect was subtle but undeniable: her presence seeped into the space like sunlight.
“Rosie, doll!” Katsuki’s voice carried up from downstairs. “You hungry for lunch?”
“Yes, please!” she called back, smiling despite herself.
Padding downstairs with Maya bouncing happily in her arms, Rosie entered the kitchen and froze. Katsuki was at the counter, knife in one hand, chopping vegetables with effortless precision. A pan sizzled on the stove, filling the air with mouthwatering aromas. But what made her heart squeeze was the sight of him holding out a piece of carrot for Maya with his other hand, letting the pup happily crunch away.
Rosie gasped, half laughing. “Katsuki Bakugou, you are going to make her fat!”
He snorted without looking up. “The cotton swab isn’t gonna get fat. She’s a little bean. Needs snacks.”
Her lips twitched, but warmth bloomed in her chest as she leaned against the counter to watch him. He was so damn natural like this—like he’d been living with her forever.
Later, when they sat down at the table, Rosie groaned after her first bite, practically melting into her chair. “Oh my god, Katsuki, this is so good.”
He smirked, satisfied.
She groaned again, pointing her fork at him. “I swear, you are arguably the better cook between us. And if you keep cooking like this…” she poked another bite into her mouth with a blissful sigh, “…you’re going to make me fat.”
Katsuki barked out a laugh, setting his chopsticks down. “So what?” He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing as his lips curved into that smug, infuriatingly attractive grin. “You’re mine to fatten up.”
Her whole face flushed scarlet. “Katsuki!”
He shrugged, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “I plan on getting you pregnant one day, anyway. So what does it matter if you put on a little weight?”
Rosie nearly choked on her food, dropping her fork. “W–what?!”
Katsuki just leaned over, stealing a kiss from her before she could protest, lips lingering like he knew exactly what he was doing to her. “You heard me.”
Her head was spinning, her skin on fire. “Y–you can’t just say things like that! I—”
“You whining at me, doll?” he teased, tugging her chair closer so she was nearly in his lap. His hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing her flushed skin. “Cuz all I hear is you getting worked up over me telling the truth.”
Rosie buried her face in his shoulder with a helpless whine, which only made him chuckle low in his chest, arms wrapping tight around her.
“Get used to it, sweetheart,” he murmured, dropping another kiss to her temple. “I’m not gonna stop.”
They somehow managed to finish eating lunch, Rosie gathering the plates and rinsing them while Katsuki disappeared into his study to take a call with Hawks. From the deep rumble of his voice carrying faintly through the hallway, she guessed it was about patrols or shifts.
Maya tore around the house in a frenzy, skidding across the hardwood as she tried and failed to catch Lady. Rosie laughed when she heard a particularly loud thump, followed by the soft thwap of Lady’s tail against the floor. By the time Rosie settled into the living room with a blanket thrown across her legs, Lady leapt gracefully into her lap and promptly made herself at home, kneading into the blanket before curling up against Rosie’s stomach.
Rosie’s brows lifted in surprise. “Well, aren’t you supposed to be the aloof one?” she cooed, scratching Lady under the chin. The little cat purred like a motor, leaning into her touch. Rosie’s heart softened as she gathered Lady closer, cuddling her against her chest. “You’re not so bad, huh? Maybe people just don’t understand you.”
“You should be cuddling me,” Katsuki’s voice cut in, rough and sulky.
She looked up to find him standing in the doorway, arms crossed, a scowl tugging at his mouth that didn’t quite mask the faint pink in his ears.
Rosie blinked. “Are you…jealous of a cat?”
“...maybe…” he grumbled.
Her laugh bubbled out before she could stop it. “Katsuki…you can’t be serious.”
“I’m dead serious,” he muttered, striding forward and plucking Lady right off her lap before dropping himself onto the couch beside her. Lady gave him a dirty look before trotting away with her tail high. Katsuki, satisfied, immediately yanked Rosie against his chest. “There. Better.”
Rosie shook her head, smiling despite herself.
The rest of the day melted away like that. They picked movies and half-watched them, Rosie curled into Katsuki’s side while his arm stayed locked around her waist. Sometimes Maya wriggled in between them, sometimes Katsuki muttered commentary about the plot that made Rosie laugh until she cried. They dozed off tangled together, only to wake up for snacks, then doze again. It was lazy and perfect, like the whole world had slowed down just for them.
Later that night, Rosie padded into the bathroom in her tank top and tiny shorts, hair down and face freshly washed. Katsuki was already there, toothbrush hanging from his mouth, and he glanced at her in the mirror with a low whistle.
“Cute pajamas,” he said, voice muffled as he brushed.
Her cheeks warmed as she grabbed her own toothbrush. “They’re just pajamas.”
“Still cute.” He bumped her shoulder with his as he rinsed, then leaned lazily against the counter to watch her, his eyes tracing every line of her. Rosie tried to ignore the weight of his gaze, focusing on brushing her teeth, but the way he grinned at her reflection made it impossible not to smile back.
When they finally made it to bed, Rosie tugged the blankets up, expecting him to settle in on his side. Instead, Katsuki slid in after her and immediately latched on, pulling her against his chest like she was his personal pillow. His arms wrapped around her middle, his face pressing into the crook of her neck with a content sigh.
“Katsuki,” she giggled, trying to shift. “You’re like an octopus.”
“Don’t care,” he mumbled, voice already heavy with sleep. “You’re mine. I’m not letting go.”
Her heart melted, and though she tried to protest, she couldn’t bring herself to push him away. Instead, she relaxed into his embrace, her lips curving into a small smile as she whispered, “Goodnight, Katsuki.”
“Night, doll,” he murmured, tightening his hold. Within moments, his breathing evened out, leaving her to fall asleep wrapped entirely in him.
Notes:
In the spirit of me feeling better, I have decided to gift you guys a new chapter today as a way to celebrate the first week of school ending (I haven't gone to class once nor even moved into my dorm yet). Regardless, a lot of fluff and smutty things happening in the future, enjoy it because it's not going to last😏
Congratulations Cherri! you finally got your AO3 account, gonna miss your long text messages about the story🥹 but super glad I stole you from Wattpad♥️
As always lemme know your thoughts and I will see you in the next one
Chapter 160: You sound like you’re already married to me.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Rosie stirred awake slowly, not to the sound of her alarm, but to the press of warm lips brushing featherlight kisses against the back of her neck. The soft rasp of stubble grazed her skin as his mouth lingered, his breath warm and heavy from sleep. A low hum escaped her throat, half-dreaming still, as his big hands wandered lazily over her body—one sliding across her stomach, fingers splaying protectively against her skin, while the other squeezed at her thigh possessively beneath the tangle of blankets.
She stretched against him, sighing as his arm cinched her tighter to his chest. “Mmmm,” she hummed wistfully, eyes still closed. “Why’d you wake me?”
Katsuki’s lips curved against her neck as he pressed another kiss there. His voice was rough, low, still heavy with sleep. “You’ve only got an hour to get ready for class, dumbass.”
Rosie blinked groggily, her brain slow to catch up, swimming in the fog of his warmth. An hour… She did the math sluggishly in her head, her lips quirking into a sleepy smile before she finally murmured, “If you drive me to class and we get coffee at Ishlamare… I have ten more minutes.”
That earned her a low chuckle, vibrating deep in his chest where her back rested. He shifted, his mouth trailing from the curve of her shoulder up to her neck, kissing, licking, and then nipping gently at her skin.
“Katsuki…” she sighed, squirming a little under his touch, her breath catching as his teeth grazed a particularly sensitive spot.
“Ten minutes, huh?” he muttered against her neck, his tongue darting out to soothe the mark he’d just left. “Better make ‘em worth it.”
His hands tightened at her waist and thigh, pulling her flush against him as he lavished her neck with attention, unhurried and indulgent. Rosie tilted her head helplessly to give him more room, her eyes fluttering closed again as the heat of his mouth and the steady weight of his body lulled her into blissful surrender.
“You drive me crazy,” she whispered, her voice soft and fond, though tinged with that dreamy daze only he could pull from her.
“Good,” he murmured, nipping once more before kissing the spot sweetly. “That’s exactly the point.”
Rosie had meant those “ten more minutes” as a joke—something to buy her a little more sleep. But Katsuki clearly took it as permission. His mouth deepened against her neck, trailing up to catch her lips, his kiss unhurried but insistent. She let out a soft squeak of surprise that melted into a breathy sigh as he rolled her beneath him, his hands sliding everywhere at once—her waist, her hips, her thighs, greedy and warm.
“Katsuki…” she mumbled between kisses, her fingers curling into the fabric of his sleep shirt.
“Shut up,” he muttered, though it was said against her lips like a plea. He kissed her again and again, each one hungrier than the last, until she was breathless and clinging to him. His tongue brushed hers, his teeth tugged her bottom lip, and the heat between them was enough to make her forget all about the time.
By the time the alarm she never set would’ve gone off, the ten minutes had long since slipped away. They lay tangled in the sheets, foreheads pressed together, still stealing kisses as their breaths evened out.
“Guess we should actually get up,” Rosie sighed, cheeks warm as she smoothed a hand over his jaw.
Katsuki groaned like it was the worst idea in the world but rolled out of bed anyway, tugging her along with him.
They fell into an easy rhythm, like they’d been doing this for years. Rosie perched at the bathroom counter, patting in moisturizer while Katsuki scrubbed a towel through his damp hair after a quick shower. When she reached for her toner, he leaned over her shoulder, crowding her space just to press a kiss to her cheek, his grin smug when she swatted him away.
“Katsuki! You’re going to mess up my skincare.”
“Don’t care,” he murmured, already ducking in for another kiss before heading back into the shower steam to finish rinsing off.
She dressed in a cozy fall outfit—an oversized cream sweater tucked loosely into a plaid skirt, thick tights, and her favorite boots. By the time she came back into the kitchen, Katsuki was at the stove in his hero undershirt and pants, cooking eggs and toasting bread like it was the most natural thing in the world. Maya circled his feet, hoping for scraps, while Lady sat smugly on the counter supervising.
“Breakfast, princess,” he said simply, sliding a plate onto the table.
She laughed, settling down with him, groaning at the first bite. “Gonna pack my lunch too?”
He snorted, sipping his coffee. “I could.”
Her face flamed. “Katsuki!”
“‘s true.” He shrugged. “I can pack you lunch along with our future kids.”
She nearly choked on her toast, whining into her hands while he smirked like he’d just won a battle.
Once dishes were stacked and Rosie’s makeup was done, they bundled up at the door. She tugged a soft scarf around her neck while Katsuki zipped up his hero jacket, the red accents sharp against the cool gray of the autumn morning.
“You’re gonna be late,” he muttered, pulling her close by the waist.
“You were the one who wasted my ten minutes,” she teased, muffled by the scarf.
He smirked, then leaned down to kiss her forehead, lingering there a moment longer than necessary.
Outside, his car waited. He opened the door for her, grumbling when she stuck her tongue out at him before climbing in. Their first stop was Ishlamare. She bounced excitedly in her seat as he ordered their usuals, his eyes soft as he watched her cradle the warm cup between her hands.
At the university drop-off, Rosie turned toward him, heart squeezing as she pressed a kiss to his mouth. “Thank you for the ride.”
He tugged her back in for another, muttering against her lips, “You better text me between classes.”
Her cheeks hurt from smiling as she climbed out, scarf tucked against her chin. Watching her walk away, Katsuki’s hand tightened briefly on the steering wheel—like letting her go for even a few hours was too much.
Maya’s barks echoed through the living room as she and Lady tumbled across the rug in a whirl of hair and fur. The little dog squealed every time Lady darted just out of reach, her paws batting at Lady’s tail as it flicked teasingly. Rosie watched from the couch, laptop balanced on her knees, her textbooks spread out around her like a fortress. She’d been working on her assignments for nearly an hour, but she kept glancing up at the chaos on the floor, her lips curving into soft smiles she couldn’t fight off.
It felt strange—but good—to be here alone. Katsuki had handed her a house key yesterday, shoving it into her palm with a gruff, “Don’t lose it, dumbass.” His way of saying, this is your home too.
When her eyes started to blur from staring at the screen, Rosie finally shut her laptop and stretched. The soft growl of her stomach reminded her it was past dinner, and with Katsuki not home yet, she figured she could surprise him.
She padded into the kitchen, rolling her sleeves up as she rummaged through his fridge. He wasn’t lying when he said he kept it stocked—eggs, fresh vegetables, packs of meat. She set to work, chopping and seasoning, humming softly under her breath as Maya peeked in from the living room, with Lady jumping onto the bar.
By the time the house filled with the savory aroma of roasted chicken and garlic butter vegetables, Rosie felt accomplished.
Her phone buzzed just as she was covering the rest of the food.
Pomchi: Gonna be late. Don’t wait up.
Rosie exhaled softly, glancing at the meal she’d made with him in mind. Her lips tugged in a faint smile anyway—this was his job, his life, and she knew it wasn’t easy. She typed back quickly.
Rosie: Got it. I’ll keep dinner in the fridge for you. Be safe.
She packed everything neatly into containers, sliding them onto the shelf before wiping down the counters. Rosie wandered through the darkened house, double-checking locks like she’d seen Katsuki do, before finally crawling into his bed.
The sheets still smelled like him—caramel smoke, spice, something distinctly Katsuki. Hugging his pillow to her chest, Rosie sighed into the quiet. It was strange how much she already missed him, how easily she’d grown used to his constant warmth and gruff presence.
Within minutes, she drifted off, dreaming in the safety of his space, the home he’d opened up to her.
Rosie stirred awake to the faint creak of the mattress shifting beneath her. The room was still dark, the faintest blue-grey of pre-dawn filtering through the curtains. She blinked blearily, lifting her head from Katsuki’s pillow just in time to see his broad back retreating toward the bathroom. The quiet click of the door closing was followed by the muted rush of the shower.
Her heart squeezed a little. Early patrol… she thought, rubbing her eyes. He hadn’t even tried to wake her. Typical Katsuki—doing what needed to be done, even if it meant slipping out before the sun rose.
Still half-asleep, she pushed herself out of bed, tugging on her pink robe she’d left on the chair. Her slippers padded down the stairs, her body moving more on instinct than energy. Yawning so hard her eyes watered, Rosie set about making him breakfast. Nothing fancy just toast, eggs, and bacon sizzling in the pan but it filled the kitchen with warmth and the comfort of home. She set the coffee machine running next, inhaling the rich scent as she rubbed at her messy hair.
By the time she was plating everything, she heard the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs. Katsuki appeared in the doorway, hair damp and sticking up in all directions, hero uniform on, tugging at his gauntlets with that usual sharp focus. His crimson eyes landed on her immediately, brows knitting.
“The hell are you doing awake?” His voice was low, rough from sleep and the shower steam.
Rosie smiled faintly over her shoulder, sliding the plate onto the table. “You woke me when you got out of bed. Figured if you were going to run out the door before sunrise, the least I could do was send you off with breakfast and coffee.”
For a moment, he just stared at her. Then he stepped forward, catching her by the waist with one arm and tugging her into him. He buried his face into the curve of her neck, his damp hair brushing her cheek. “You’re ridiculous,” he muttered against her skin.
She giggled, patting his chest lightly. “Maybe. But you’re eating before you leave.”
He pulled back just enough to glance at the plate waiting for him, then at the steaming mug she’d set out. His expression softened in that rare, vulnerable way—like she’d cracked open the hard shell he showed the rest of the world. “Tch. Damn spoiling me,” he grumbled, but there was no bite to it.
Rosie yawned again, leaning into him. “Someone has to take care of you.”
“Doll…” He kissed her forehead softly before pulling her over to the table, practically dragging her into his lap while he started eating one-handed, refusing to let go of her.
Katsuki held her snug in his lap while he ate, his arm looped lazily around her waist, his fork scraping against the plate with practiced efficiency. Rosie’s cheek rested against his shoulder, her eyelids fluttering half-shut as the smell of coffee and bacon mingled with his soap and aftershave. “You should be back in bed,” he muttered around a mouthful, pausing only to nudge the coffee toward her lips like he was daring her to take a sip.
She smiled sleepily, stealing a sip, grimacing at the dark bitter taste before handing it back. “And miss having breakfast with you? Not a chance.”
“Tch. Brat.” But his voice was too soft, too warm, to carry any real edge. He kissed the top of her messy hair before finishing off the eggs.
When the plate was cleared, he didn’t even let her get up to take it to the sink—just set it on the counter from his chair and held her tighter, glaring like daring her to argue. She didn’t. Instead, she leaned into his chest, her hand curling in the front of his half-fastened uniform. “You should get going,” she whispered, though her voice was reluctant.
“Don’t remind me.” He nuzzled against her temple, lingering, like maybe if he stalled long enough, patrol would just disappear.
Finally, with a sigh, he set her gently on her feet and stood, adjusting his gauntlets and pulling his jacket into place. She padded after him to the front door, rubbing her eyes again, yawning around her words. “You’ve got your lunch packed—oh wait, you don’t, I didn’t…”
He turned, cutting her off by kissing her. “Shut it. I’ll grab something with Kiri.” He leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers, his voice a low rasp. “You already did enough, doll. More than enough.”
Rosie’s breath caught, her cheeks warming as his calloused fingers lingered against her jaw. The two of them stood there in the soft morning quiet, coats and boots by the door, coffee scent still hanging in the air. Like it was the most normal thing in the world—like this was every morning, like it always would be.
When he finally pulled back, it wasn’t with distance—it was with another kiss, slow and tender, then another on her nose, and finally a firm one on her forehead. “Lock the door behind me,” he said gruffly, as if that tiny slice of control kept him from unraveling.
“Yes, sir,” she teased gently, voice still thick with sleep.
He gave her one last look—fond, reluctant, almost like he was memorizing her—before stepping out into the chill air, his car already humming in the drive. She watched from the doorway, closing her robe tight, as he slid into the driver’s seat and glanced back once more, crimson eyes catching hers. The tiniest smirk curved his lips, but it was softened by something else. Something heavy, something unspoken.
She waved as he pulled away, closing the door with her heart aching in the sweetest way. When she padded back upstairs, climbing into the bed still warm from his side, she realized it felt less like she was sleeping over at his house—and more like she was already home.
The front door clicked open just as Rosie bent to scoop a basket of warm laundry from the dryer. She was fresh out of the shower, hair damp and tied up in a messy bun, skin glowing from her skincare routine. Her slightly oversized T-shirt hung loose over nothing but a pair of red panties, the hem brushing her thighs as she padded barefoot across the hardwood.
The smell of simmering sauce and roasted vegetables wafted from the kitchen, the faint soundtrack of a rom-com playing in the living room. The whole house felt alive with her presence. His house. Her things scattered, her touch everywhere.
“Smells good,” Katsuki’s voice rumbled from the entryway, tired but instantly warmer as he kicked off his boots.
Rosie peeked over the basket, her cheeks already warm at the sight of him in the doorway. His hair was messy from work, his uniform jacket slung lazily over one arm. “Dinner’s almost done,” she said softly, shifting the basket to her hip.
Katsuki didn’t answer. He just stalked toward her, crimson eyes dragging down her bare legs, over the dip of her waist under the thin cotton shirt. By the time she reached the couch to set down the basket, he was already behind her, arms sliding around her waist, chin pressing into her damp shoulder. “You tryna kill me, woman?” he muttered, voice low and gravelly. His hand splayed across her stomach, the heat of his palm sinking through the thin fabric. “Walkin’ around my damn house lookin’ like this?”
Rosie laughed breathlessly, leaning into him. “I’m doing laundry, Katsuki. It’s not like I dressed up for this.”
“Don’t care.” He tugged her tighter against him, nosing at her neck. “Could’ve come home to anything—dinner burnin’, you passed out on the couch—hell, even the damn cotton swab tearing shit up. But I come home to this.” His hand slid lower, squeezing her thigh, his tone turning almost reverent. “You. In my shirt. Smellin’ like flowers. Cookin’ in my kitchen like you’ve been here forever.”
Her breath caught, her hands clutching at his arms around her. “Katsuki…”
“Don’t ‘Katsuki’ me,” he grumbled, lips brushing her damp hairline. “I’m not letting go ‘til dinner’s done—and even then, you’re eatin’ in my lap.”
She turned her head just enough to meet his eyes, her smile soft but teasing. “You sound like you’re already married to me.”
He froze for a half second, then smirked, sharp but tender. “Yeah? Maybe I fuckin’ am.”
Before she could answer, he was kissing her neck again, soft and lingering, his thumbs rubbing circles against her hips. The movie hummed in the background, the sauce bubbled faintly in the kitchen, and all Rosie could do was melt back into him, wishing this kind of home—this kind of love—would never end.
Rosie eventually wriggled out of his arms with a flushed laugh, shoving the basket of laundry at him. “If you don’t let me check on dinner, it will burn.”
Katsuki grumbled, holding the basket with one hand like it weighed nothing. “Tch. Fine. But you’re not gettin’ out of this that easy, doll.”
By the time she plated dinner, a simple pasta with roasted veggies and garlic bread, Katsuki had folded the rest of the laundry. He dragged the basket over, setting it aside as Rosie brought plates to the coffee table. “No dining table?” she teased, settling onto the couch with her plate.
He grabbed his own plate and flopped down beside her, thigh pressed firm against hers. “Got one. Don’t need it. Couch is better.”
Rosie rolled her eyes but smiled, tucking her legs up as Maya and Lady circled hopefully nearby. They ate with the rom-com still playing, Rosie humming in delight after her first bite.
Dinner blurred into soft banter and playful shoves, until they ended up curled on the couch, the plates forgotten on the table. Katsuki had Rosie tucked under his arm, her head on his chest, his hand drawing lazy circles on her thigh. Lady had claimed the top of the couch while Maya was curled at their feet, snoring softly. The rom-com ended, the credits rolling, but neither of them moved.
“You comfy?” Katsuki murmured, pressing his lips into her hair.
Rosie hummed. “Mmhmm. Too comfy. I don’t think I can get up.”
“Good.” He shifted just enough to pull the blanket that laid over the back of the couch over them, trapping her tighter against him. “Stay here. You’re not movin’.”
The movie credits faded into silence, but Rosie hardly noticed—Katsuki’s mouth was on hers again, hungrier this time. His hand slid up her thigh, squeezing like he owned every inch of her, pulling her flush against him until her legs draped over his lap. She gasped into the kiss when his tongue brushed hers, his hand gripping her hip as if to ground himself. “K–Katsuki…” she tried, but her voice melted into a whimper as he kissed down her jaw, his breath hot against her skin.
“Say my name again,” he rasped, teeth grazing the shell of her ear before his lips dragged lower, mouthing at the base of her throat.
Her fingers dug into his shirt, tugging him closer, like she couldn’t bear even a sliver of space between them. The kiss turned messy, wet and urgent, and before she realized it, her hips were rocking against his thigh, seeking friction. Katsuki let out a low groan, his grip on her waist tightening.
“Fuck, Rosie…” he muttered against her lips, their noses bumping, their breaths mingling. He pressed his forehead to hers, eyes half-lidded, gaze dark. “You’re killin’ me here.”
Rosie’s face burned, but her body betrayed her—arching into him, her own hands wandering up his chest and over his shoulders. He kissed her harder, tilting her back into the couch cushions until he was nearly on top of her, his weight heavy, delicious, grounding. Her legs instinctively hooked around his hips, pulling him flush against her. The low, broken sound he made had her heart stumbling.
“Rosie…” His lips trailed over her cheek, back to her mouth, swallowing her whimpers like he was starving. His hand slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, splaying warm against her stomach, his thumb brushing just under the curve of her ribs.
She broke the kiss just enough to gasp, breathless and dazed. “Katsuki… we’re still—still on the couch…”
He smirked against her swollen lips, chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. “Don’t care,” he muttered, voice rough, before claiming her mouth again, each kiss deeper, hotter, until she thought she might combust.
Rosie’s mind spun, her body humming as if she were caught between fire and gravity—pinned beneath him. She barely noticed when Katsuki shifted, his strong arms sliding under her as he stood, lifting her effortlessly off the couch. She squeaked into his mouth, her legs instinctively tightening around his waist. He grinned against her lips, kissing her again, deeper, harder, as he carried her up the stairs like she weighed nothing. Her hands clung to his shoulders, nails grazing through his shirt, lips desperate against his. Every step jostled them closer together, their kiss messy and hot, full of nips and sighs. She could feel the solid heat of him pressed between her thighs, could feel how badly he wanted her, and her head spun with it.
“Katsuki…” she breathed when he pressed her against the wall halfway up, grinding into her as his mouth trailed fire down her neck. Her hips bucked, seeking more, and he groaned low in his chest, teeth grazing her skin.
By the time he kicked open his bedroom door, she was dizzy from the weight of him, from the intensity in his eyes when he dropped her onto the mattress and immediately followed her down, caging her in with his body. His kisses turned heavier, his hand sliding beneath her shirt again, palming the curve of her waist, inching higher. She arched beneath him, lost in the heat, sure—so sure—this was it, that the inevitable line was about to be crossed.
His forehead pressed to hers, lips brushing hers once, twice, softer this time. His chest rose and fell, breaths shaky, controlled. “Rosie,” he murmured, voice rough but steady, “I need to shower.”
For a moment, she blinked up at him, dazed, her cheeks flushed, her lips kiss-swollen. “W–what?”
He smirked, pressing one last kiss to her jaw before pushing himself off the bed. “I smell like sweat and smoke. Not touchin’ you like this.” Just like that, he was gone—walking toward the bathroom, tugging his shirt over his head as steam from the shower began to billow out.
Rosie lay there, breathless, every inch of her buzzing, staring at the ceiling with her face buried in her hands “Unbelievable,” she muttered, her whole body still burning, her heart in shambles.
From the bathroom, his voice came—teasing, smug. “Don’t wait up, doll. Unless you wanna join me.”
Her pillow muffled the mortified groan that escaped her throat.
Notes:
One of my favorite chapters to write so far, or rather it was, considering I have all the chapters up to 183 written in the drafts😏 Anyway, yes, you guys are gifted super warm, fluffy, cavity inducing sweetness...for now.
I was supposed to post this earlier but the medication literally had my ass passed out in bed and I just woke up after sleeping since 9 am. Anyway, I will get to responding to your comments tonight or tomorrow as my boyfriend and I are driving to my college dorm in about an hour after I shower and eat and will also be meeting my dorm mate, I'm finally moving my things in so I will be able to start properly Monday.
I hope you guys loved this chapter as much as I loved writing it, lemme know your thoughts and I will see you guys tomorrow💖
Chapter 161: Don’t be shy, Bakugou! We all know you two are together. No need to play coy now.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katsuki pushed through the front door, rolling his shoulders as he tugged off his gloves. His hero gear felt heavier than usual, the stink of smoke and asphalt still clinging to him. He wanted a shower, a bite to eat, and Rosie in his arms—nothing else.
Instead, his tired eyes swept across his living room only to freeze. Several women, bright-eyed, smug, and way too comfortable filled his damn house. Mina was perched on the arm of the couch, Maerya lounged with a glass in hand, Uraraka and Akira were there, smirking like she owned the place. From behind them all, the old hag emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray of little snack bowls like she lived there.
“…the fuck?” Katsuki muttered, voice sharp.
“Darling,” Rosie’s voice pulled him from the fog. She stepped out from behind the couch, balancing a tray of glasses with ribbons in her hair and that soft sweater-and-skirt combo that made his chest tighten. “You’re home.”
She looked beautiful. Nervous, too, chewing her bottom lip and blinking up at him like she already thought he was angry. His throat tightened.
“Don’t be mad,” she rushed out, her words tumbling together. “Akira, Mina, and Maerya picked me up for the farmer’s market, and your mom came by to check in on you—and we all… sort of wanted to try the things we bought, so we came back here.”
Katsuki’s bag hit the floor with a heavy thud. He barely registered the smug grins aimed at him; all he saw was Rosie’s lip trembling with the start of tears. Shit. She thought he was pissed at her. He stomped across the room, boots thudding, and cupped her face in his hands, kissing her quick and fierce like it was the only answer that mattered. Her little gasp was swallowed up against his mouth, her tray rattling as her hands shook.
“Ooooh,” Maerya sing-songed from the couch, smirk wide. “Don’t be shy, Bakugou! We all know you two are together. No need to play coy now.”
Katsuki didn’t even bother pulling his mouth off Rosie’s. He lifted one hand just enough to flip Maerya the finger, his eyes snapping toward her like daggers before returning to his girl. “Come here,” he muttered against Rosie’s temple, tugging the tray from her hands and dumping it on the nearest surface. Without another word, he dragged her into the kitchen, away from the prying eyes and muffled giggles. Only when they were out of sight did he let go, bracing his palms against the counter on either side of her, caging her in. His voice was lower now, rough with something between exhaustion and need. “You think I give a damn about them? I came home for you. ”
Her heart hammered as she whispered back, “I didn’t want you to be mad.”
His forehead dropped against hers, his breath hot, grounding her. “I’m not. Just—fuck, Rosie. Don’t cry. You got no idea what I’d do if you thought I was pissed at you.”
She sniffed softly, lips trembling, “Are you sure? I know how you are about your priva—”
Katsuki cut her off the only way he knew how—his mouth crashing onto hers, swallowing the rest of her worry. Rosie melted against him instantly, falling limp into his arms like a ragdoll.
“It’s fine,” he ground out against her lips, holding her face between his palms like he never wanted to let her go. His breath was hot and ragged, his thumb brushing along her jaw. “As long as you’re sleeping in my bed tonight… and they’re in theirs.”
Rosie nodded quickly, breathless, her cheeks flushed pink. “They will,” she promised.
Katsuki growled low in his throat and pulled her back in for another kiss—hungrier this time. He licked into her mouth, sucking at her bottom lip until her knees nearly buckled. When he finally tore away, both of them were panting, her lips kiss-swollen and her eyes hazy. He kissed her again, softer now, lingering before resting his forehead on hers. “Now, I’m gonna go shower.”
“Okay,” she whispered with a beaming smile, dazed and happy, turning to head back into the living room.
But she yelped when his hand cracked against her ass. Spinning back toward him, wide-eyed, she saw him smirk. “Don’t think you’re gettin’ away without that.”
Her blush deepened, and she scurried off, biting her lip to hide her smile.
Upstairs, Katsuki stripped down and took the quickest shower of his life. By the time he stepped out, towel around his hips, he already had his phone pressed to his ear.
“Yo,” Kirishima’s voice answered, the sound of rowdy background noise bleeding through.
“You free for drinks?” Katsuki asked, tugging on jeans one-handed.
“Yeah, man. We’re all at Silven’s right now. Shoto, Sero, Denki—they’re all here.”
Katsuki shoved his arm through a clean black shirt and grunted, “Tch. I’ll be there in twenty.”
By the time he came downstairs, boots in hand, he could already hear them—the gaggle of girls in his living room, all yammering about the fruit haul they’d brought back from the market. He tugged his boots on at the door, glancing up just as Rosie spotted him. Her smile faltered into a small frown as she immediately stood and padded over to him, ribbons bouncing in her hair. “You’re leaving?” she asked softly.
Katsuki hummed, adjusting his boot laces. “Mm. Going out for drinks with Kiri. I’ll be home later.”
Rosie nodded, chewing her lip, but her voice carried a little determination. “I plan on making dinner, so don’t eat.”
That pulled a smirk out of him. Standing, he reached out, tugging gently at one of her ribbons before leaning close. His other hand slid around her waist, tugging her flush against his chest. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Before she could say a word, he bent down and captured her mouth again—slow and lingering, stealing her breath in front of everyone like he didn’t give a damn who saw. When he finally pulled away, he brushed the tip of his nose against hers in a soft nuzzle, making her cheeks burn, before planting a firm kiss to her forehead. “Text you, alright?” he murmured low, voice rough.
Rosie hummed, her hands clinging to his shirt. “Please drive safe.”
He smirked at that, thumb brushing the side of her waist before finally stepping back and tugging on his jacket.
From the couch, a chorus of dramatic sighs and coos erupted—Akira clutching her chest, Mina whisper-shouting “HE’S SO SOFT??”, and Maerya covering her grin with her hand.
Katsuki stiffened, glaring at them all. “The fuck are you hens staring at? Mind your damn business.”
They only laughed harder.
“Aw, he’s sweet,” Mina teased, leaning forward. “Didn’t know Bakugou had it in him!”
“Fuck off!” he barked, shoving his arm through his sleeve.
That was when a rolled-up magazine came flying across the room. He tilted his head a fraction, the thing sailing past his ear. Slowly, Katsuki turned his head, eyes narrowing at his mother where she stood smug with another magazine already in hand. “You’re getting sloppy, hag,” he smirked, taunting.
“You little shit—” Mitsuki growled, already winding up to throw again.
But Katsuki was faster. He yanked the door open, shooting her a wicked grin as she hurled another magazine across the room. It smacked against the doorframe instead of his head. Before ducking out, he lifted his hand, middle finger raised high in victory. “Nice try, old bat!”
“Watch your mouth, Katsuki!” Mitsuki snarled as he vanished outside.
Through the window, Rosie caught him smirking over his shoulder, flipping his mom off again as she stormed toward the glass, ready to throw something heavier. He only laughed, hopped in his car, and peeled out before she could get there.
Katsuki came home late, he shoved the door open with his foot, the smell hit him first—warm, savory, home. His brows eased, tension bleeding out of him as he followed the sound of clinking utensils and the faint hum of her voice.
Rosie was in the kitchen, standing barefoot in one of his sweaters, sleeves pushed up as she stirred a pot on the stove. Her ribbons had slipped a little loose in her hair, and the soft lamplight made her look almost like she belonged there permanently. She hadn’t noticed him yet, too caught up in her own little world. He leaned an elbow on the bar, propping his chin in his hand, just…watching.
Katsuki’s lips twitched, a low hum slipping from him. She jumped at the sound, finally realizing he was there, but he didn’t move. Just sat there with that heavy-lidded gaze, soaking in her voice.
“Oh—! You’re home,” she said, cheeks flushing.
“Mm,” he grunted, lazy smirk tugging at his mouth
“I had quite the day, we saw the prettiest bushels of tomatoes—oh, Katsuki, you should’ve seen them! They looked like little jewels, all glossy and red. Mina swore she was gonna make sauce, but I know she’s just gonna leave them on her counter and forget about them until they shrivel up,” she giggled, shaking her head as she grabbed another bunch of herbs to chop.
“Keep talkin’.”
Rosie blinked, “What?”
“You were yappin’,” he said, leaning further onto the counter, arms folded now as he watched her move around the kitchen. “I like it. Don’t stop.”
Her blush deepened, but she laughed softly, turning back to her chopping board. “Well…if you insist. Where was I? Oh—right. So then your mom found this honey vendor, and Mitsuki made the poor man give her four different samples before she settled on the wildflower blend. I think she just liked making him sweat.”
Katsuki chuckled, low and warm in his chest. Rosie’s eyes flicked to him, surprised at the sound, and his smirk deepened.
She kept yapping, telling him about the flowers she bought, the little baked goods Mina had insisted on splitting between them all, the weird vendor with the samples of goat cheese. And he just sat there, nodding occasionally, every so often letting out a grunt of approval or an amused scoff.
But mostly? He just let her voice fill the space.
By the time she turned back to the stove, cheeks flushed and hands busy, Katsuki had already decided—this was his new favorite way to come home.
He was determined to do things right this time, to where one day she would wear a ring, have his last name, and be filled with their kid. The picture of it hit him harder than he expected—her in his kitchen, ribbons slipping loose, sweater hanging off her shoulder, laughter tucked between words like she belonged here. Like she belonged with him.
Standing, he padded further into the kitchen, his boots heavy against the hardwood. Rosie startled a little when his arms slipped around her waist from behind, his chest pressing into her back as he dipped his nose against her temple.
“Katsuki—!” she gasped, laughing softly, though her hands stayed on the wooden spoon she was stirring with.
“What’s for dinner, chef?” he murmured into her skin, lips brushing her cheek before trailing lower, along her jaw.
“Mm… roasted chicken, some squash we got at the market, and—hey, don’t distract me—potatoes,” she scolded lightly, though her voice wavered when his hands slid up beneath the hem of the sweater to rest on her warm skin.
“Sounds good,” he hummed, teeth grazing her ear. “Smells good, too.”
“You’re only saying that because you’re hungry.”
“Damn right I’m hungry,” he muttered, smirking as one hand slid to pinch her hip before reaching past her to steal a piece of bread cooling on the counter.
“Katsuki!” she yelped, swatting at him with the spoon.
He only chuckled, tearing the bread in half and shoving a piece into her mouth before popping the rest into his own. She squeaked around the bite, glaring at him, which only made his grin widen. “Shut up and eat,” he teased, kissing her temple before leaning back against the counter, arms folded, eyes soft as he watched her bustle around.
Rosie rolled her eyes but there was a smile tugging at her lips as she turned back to the stove. Her ribbons slipped again, and without thinking, Katsuki reached out and fixed one, tying it tighter with surprising gentleness. She froze for a beat, breath catching, before whispering, “Thanks…”
He just smirked, brushing his knuckles down her arm. “Tch. Don’t thank me, dumbass.”
But deep down, he already knew—this was it. This was everything.
They ended up at the table together, plates set out, the low hum of the movie still drifting from the living room. Rosie fussed over arranging everything just right—pouring him water, setting the basket of bread in the middle, pushing the salt a little closer to his side—while Katsuki sat there with his chin propped in his palm, watching her with that look that always made her blush if she caught it.
When she finally sat down across from him, cheeks pink from the heat of the stove and eyes shining, Katsuki picked up his fork, stabbed a piece of chicken—then, without hesitation, leaned across the table and plopped it onto her plate.
“You worked your ass off on this. Eat it.”
Rosie blinked at him before laughing softly, shaking her head. “You always do that.”
“Yeah, well. You forget to take care of yourself when you’re busy yappin’.”
“I don’t yap!” she pouted, though the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her.
Katsuki only smirked and kept eating, letting her sulk adorably into her forkful of potatoes. It wasn’t long before she started talking again anyway—telling him about the farmer who sold her the squash, about how Mina picked up honey sticks, about how his mom haggled with a guy over the price of apples until everyone watching was embarrassed.
He didn’t even need to answer half the time. Just letting her voice spill into the space between them was enough. The way she talked with her hands, the way her lips curved around every word, the way she leaned in unconsciously like every story mattered so much.
Fuck—it hit him like a sucker punch. How his chest ached with it. How his teeth nearly hurt with the need to bite down and say it, those three stupid words that had been burning holes in his tongue for weeks.
I love you.
The phrase throbbed behind his ribs with every glance she gave him, every smile, every laugh.
But instead of saying it, he reached across the table, snagged her hand, and squeezed, thumb brushing over her knuckles. She froze, blinking at him, and then her face softened—rosy, glowing, as if she understood everything he couldn’t say yet.
“Thank you for eating with me,” she whispered, almost shy.
Katsuki rolled his eyes, heat crawling up his neck as he squeezed her hand harder. “Tch. Like I’d ever miss it.”
They finished dinner with her giggling every time he stole something off her plate and him pretending to scowl while secretly savoring the way she leaned into his every touch, every glance.
hTe whole time, his heart was chewing at its leash, his teeth aching with the urge to finally let those words fall.
Soon, he promised himself. Soon.
“What in the absolute fuck?” Katsuki muttered under his breath, standing half-hidden behind a row of parked bikes.
He’d just gotten off patrol and decided to swing by campus to surprise Rosie, maybe drag her out for dinner. Instead, he found himself watching her walk out of the creative arts building, her laughter carrying in the cool afternoon air as she walked beside Maerya and Akira. She looked light, soft—sweater sleeves pushed over her hands, skirt fluttering in the breeze, ribbons still tied neatly in her hair.
Perfect. His.
Only, some idiot thought otherwise.
“Rosie!” the guy called, jogging after her, books tucked under one arm. Katsuki’s eyes narrowed into sharp slits as Rosie turned, smiling warmly as if the dumbass had every right to be chasing her down.
Katsuki’s scowl deepened when the guy didn’t hesitate to close the distance, brushing his hand against her elbow like they were already familiar. Rosie didn’t flinch, didn’t snap—she just stood there, all sunshine and softness, listening as he said something that made her giggle.
Then—fuckin’ hell—he watched her pull out her phone. Watched as they exchanged numbers. Watched her wave him off like it was nothing, before turning right back to Maerya and Akira, linking arms and falling back into conversation as they walked across the campus green.
From his spot in the shadows, Katsuki’s jaw tightened until his teeth ached. His fists flexed at his sides, nails biting into his palms.
That smile—the one she’d given that guy so easily—that was supposed to be his. That casual touch—that should never fucking happen. And the number… fuck, the number.
He dragged a hand down his face, scowling darkly as the three girls disappeared around the bend, still chatting and laughing.
Katsuki stood rooted to the spot, heat simmering low in his chest, his pulse drumming in his ears. Jealousy—it was sour, bitter, impossible to swallow.
“Fuckin’ idiot,” he muttered, not sure if he meant the guy, Rosie, or himself for letting it get under his skin.
“Katsuki?”
Her voice cut through the noise of students milling about. Katsuki blinked, snapping out of his scowling haze to see Rosie standing only a few feet away. Akira and Maerya loomed just behind her, both of them wearing matching smug grins that immediately set his teeth on edge.
“Hey, doll,” he drawled, shoving his hands in his pockets like he hadn’t just been standing there stewing in jealousy.
Rosie tilted her head, smiling sweetly but curiously. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
“Tch. Just wanted to see if you wanted to grab dinner,” he said casually, but his sharp gaze flicked to the phone still in her hand, his jaw tightening.
Rosie hesitated, lips curling into a small, guilty smile. Before she could answer, Maerya—the she-devil ex herself—slithered closer and draped her arm possessively around Rosie’s shoulders.
“No can do, blondie,” she sang with a wicked grin. “We’ve got a project to finish. Group meeting with our other member in about an hour.” She leaned her head against Rosie’s with mock sweetness, smirk widening when she caught the way Katsuki’s eye twitched.
Katsuki glared daggers at her, every muscle in his body screaming to rip her arm off Rosie, but Rosie just laughed lightly, nudging Maerya off her.
“Sorry, Katsuki,” Rosie said gently, stepping closer to him. “I’ll be back later tonight.” She rose up on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, lingering just long enough to make his chest tighten.
He caught her wrist before she could pull back, tugging her closer so she nearly stumbled into him. His crimson eyes locked on hers, sharp and unreadable to everyone else—but Rosie knew that look, the one that said he didn’t like this, not one damn bit.
“You’d better,” he muttered, voice low and rough. Then, with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, he added, “Don’t make me come drag you home.”
Rosie’s heart flipped, but she only smiled, amused at the mix of his confidence and the way he was holding onto her like he didn’t want to let go. “I won’t,” she promised softly.
Maerya and Akira snickered behind her like hyenas, but Katsuki didn’t even glance their way. He leaned in closer, brushing his nose against Rosie’s temple. “Not gonna lie, doll,” he said under his breath, “I hate watching you walk away.”
Her cheeks heated, her lips parting—hearing him admit something so raw made her stomach flutter. She bit her lip, then, with a mischievous little grin, leaned up to kiss his cheek again, then the place behind his ear, and the underside of his jaw, and then lastly on his nose.
“Here,” she whispered between kisses, dotting his jaw and the corner of his mouth with soft pecks, “that’s for leaving you…” She kissed his temple. “…that’s for being patient with me…” Another kiss, this time at the corner of his lips, “and that’s just because you’re cute when you’re jealous.”
Katsuki’s smirk widened, his free hand sliding to her waist as if to anchor her to him. “Keep that up and I’m not lettin’ you go anywhere,” he said huskily, though the heat in his eyes betrayed just how tempted he was.
She giggled softly, pressing one last kiss to his lips, quick, but sweet, before finally pulling away. “I’ll text you, promise.”
“Damn right you will,” he muttered, watching her slip back toward Maerya and Akira with a look that screamed he was already counting the hours until she came home.
Notes:
The brick is prepped, painted, kissed with tissues attached😈
As always, lemme know your thoughts and I will see you Tuesday😏♥️
Chapter 162: You better be in my bed when I get home, woman.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
She waved goodbye to Maerya, before stepping into the quiet of the house. The moment she shut the door behind her, she was greeted with the sight of Katsuki in nothing but gray sweatpants, phone tucked against his shoulder. His sharp eyes flicked toward her briefly, softening just enough to press a kiss to her lips in passing before heading into the kitchen mid-conversation.
“—yeah, I can handle that. When?” his voice drifted from the other room.
Rosie only shrugged to herself. She tugged off her scarf, hat, gloves, and coat, leaving them in a messy pile in the entryway before making her way upstairs. Lady, ever her little shadow, padded at her heels with her tail swishing happily.
In their room, Rosie set her backpack onto the desk with a heavy sigh. She grabbed a change of clothes from Katsuki’s dresser, an oversized shirt and disappeared into the bathroom. When she stepped out, comfortably dressed and with damp hair clinging to her face, she stopped short. Katsuki was there, moving between his dresser and the closet with efficient, clipped movements. A duffel bag sat open on the bed, half-filled already.
Her stomach sank. “Are we going somewhere?” she asked carefully, though she already suspected the answer.
He froze for half a heartbeat before turning to face her fully, eyes locking on her like he was drinking her in. “Not we,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Just me. Hawks called me in for a mission. I’ll be with Shoto and Izuku.”
Her heart stuttered, the warmth of her post-shower comfort slipping away. “How long?” she asked, her voice softer than she intended.
“Just a couple days,” he exhaled, though the sigh carried more weight than reassurance.
She shifted, tugging at the hem of her shirt. “What time are you leaving?”
“Early,” he admitted, almost reluctantly, like the word itself might cut her.
“Oh…” The single word hung heavy in the room, weighted with unspoken things, her worry, her disappointment, her understanding.
Katsuki’s sharp eyes softened again, just for her. He sat heavily on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. “C’mere,” he said, patting his thigh with a quiet insistence.
The gruffness in his tone couldn’t hide what she saw in his expression, the pull, the need to have her close before he left adn Rosie didn’t hesitate, her feet carrying her toward him as though she’d been waiting for that one word all evening. She settled into his lap, her legs automatically curling around his waist as his arm locked securely around her. He buried his face briefly in her damp hair, breathing her in like he wanted to memorize her before he left.
“It’s only two, maybe four days max,” he muttered against her temple, his voice gruff but steady. “I’ll be back before you know it, doll. Don’t go worrying yourself sick.”
She nodded, fingers absently tracing the line of his collarbone where it peeked from under his shirt. “I know,” she whispered, though the ache in her chest didn’t ease. “I’ll… I’ll probably head back to my place then. Eri’s coming home for the weekend, and I promised her she could stay at mine for one night and bake something together.”
Katsuki let out a low, frustrated sigh, the kind that rumbled deep in his chest. He pulled back enough to look her in the eye, his brows furrowed. “Why the hell can’t you just stay here?” he grumbled. “All pretty and waiting for me when I get back?”
Rosie giggled, the tension easing just a fraction. “Kats, you know why,” she teased, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw. “You’d have to marry me for that to happen.”
She hadn’t expected the gleam that lit up in his eyes at her words, sharp, unyielding, and serious. He smirked, sure, but it wasn’t the mocking kind. It was the kind that made her heart stutter, because it wasn’t just play.
Rosie’s eyes widened, and she smacked his chest lightly, her cheeks burning. “We’ve only been dating for a couple of days, Kats…”
He only shrugged, his hand sliding up her spine with casual certainty. “Would you say no?”
Her breath caught, the playful air she’d tried to build faltering at the weight behind his question. “Kats…” she said softly, almost warning, but her voice lacked conviction.
Katsuki didn’t press further, but the smirk lingered, threaded with something heavier, something that said he’d already made up his mind. To Rosie, it was teasing, but she couldn’t ignore the way his grip tightened ever so slightly, like he was anchoring her to him, like he had no intention of letting her go, no matter how new this all was.
That night, Rosie knew without a doubt that Katsuki was going out of his way to spend every possible second with her. He wasn’t obvious about it, at least, he probably thought he wasn’t but she could feel it in the way he hovered. He was never more than a foot away, brushing past her shoulder when he didn’t need to, leaning against the counter while she cooked, trailing her from room to room like her own personal shadow.
Even while she stirred a pot on the stove, she felt his presence behind her, one warm hand sliding across her hip as he peeked over her shoulder with a muttered, “Too much salt, dumbass,” though he made no move to actually stop her. When they sat down to eat, his knee brushed hers beneath the table and stayed there, solid and grounding.
Afterward, when she rolled up her sleeves and reached for the dishes, he stepped in beside her with a quiet scowl and grabbed a towel. “I’ll dry,” he said, leaving no room for argument. His shoulder bumped hers every few seconds, and when she teased him about being clingy, he only grunted, “Shut up,” though the tips of his ears betrayed him with the faintest pink.
They got ready for bed side by side, their routine already slipping into something comfortable, familiar. He brushed his teeth while she washed her face, the two of them bumping elbows in the bathroom, neither pulling away.
By the time they settled into the living room, Rosie curled into the corner of the couch with her book, but Katsuki tugged her into his lap instead, grumbling something about “better lighting” as if that were his excuse. His arms looped around her waist loosely, anchoring her in place, while his other hand rested on a folder of paperwork balanced against her thigh.
The steady scratch of his pen mixed with the quiet rustle of her turning pages. Rosie’s head leaned against his chest, and she could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, grounding her. Every so often, he’d shift his grip to tighten his hold, pulling her a fraction closer, as though reminding himself she was really there.
She tried not to think too hard about the fact that tomorrow morning, he wouldn’t be.
The quiet stretched long into the evening, the two of them tangled together in their little bubble of peace. Rosie felt the rise and fall of Katsuki’s chest beneath her cheek, the muted sound of his pen scratching across paper slowing as the minutes ticked by. Eventually, the folder slipped from his lap to the coffee table with a dull thud, forgotten.
“You done?” Rosie asked softly, her thumb idly tracing circles against his wrist.
“Tch. Yeah.” His voice was low, roughened from exhaustion, but there was a softness threaded through it, something he only ever let her hear. He leaned his head back against the couch, his grip on her tightening until she was flush against him.
They sat like that for a while, her reading long abandoned, the silence wrapping around them like a blanket. She felt it then, more than ever, the heaviness of his looming departure, the way he clung to her like he was trying to soak up every second.
When they finally moved to bed, it wasn’t like their usual, playful jostling for space. Katsuki pulled her in the second she slid beneath the covers, caging her against his chest with a strength that was more desperate than casual.
Rosie blinked up at him in the dim light. “You’re holding me like I’m gonna disappear.”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t let go. “Shut up. Just let me.”
Her heart squeezed at the rawness in his voice. She smoothed her hand across his chest, over the steady beat of his heart, and nuzzled closer. “I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered.
For a long moment, he didn’t answer. Then, with his breath warm against her hair, he muttered, “I hate leavin’ you.” The words came out rough, almost bitten off, like he didn’t want to admit them but he couldn’t stop himself. “Drives me fuckin’ crazy knowing you’re here, and I’m not.”
Rosie stilled, her breath catching, because she knew how hard it was for him to be vulnerable like that. Her arms slid tighter around him, her voice low and sure. “It’s only a couple days, Kats. I’ll be right here when you get back.”
His hand slid to the back of her head, fingers threading into her hair. He pressed his lips to her crown, lingering there longer than usual, almost like a promise. “Damn right you will,” he murmured.
Rosie tilted her face up then, her lips brushing his jaw. He caught her mouth in a kiss before she could say another word, slow, deep, nothing like his usual rough, hurried ones. It was unhurried, reverent, full of everything he couldn’t put into words.
When they finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers. “Rosie…” His tone was low, raw, like he had a thousand things he wanted to say but couldn’t. So instead, he just pulled her tighter, like he could fuse her into his very bones if he tried hard enough.
Rosie stirred, her hand brushing over cold sheets, her eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep, and the first thing she noticed was the faint sound of running water coming from the bathroom. Her heart clenched.
He was getting ready to go.
A few minutes later, Katsuki emerged, his hair damp and sticking up in messy spikes, steam trailing after him as he tugged at the hem of a clean black shirt. His jaw was freshly shaven, his duffel bag slung across one broad shoulder, and for a moment Rosie could only sit there, dazed, taking in how heartbreakingly good he looked—and how much she didn’t want him to leave.
“Pomchi, darling…” her voice was a soft, sleepy whisper.
He glanced over, his hard edges softening when he saw her tangled up in the sheets, her hair a mess, eyes heavy with sleep. “Go back to bed, Rosie,” he muttered, though his voice didn’t have much bite.
Instead, she crawled across the bed, her movements slow and unsteady with sleep. She stopped at the edge where he stood, kneeling on the mattress, her arms reaching out for him. Her bottom lip jutted out in a pout, her eyes glassy as she looked up at him. “Don’t go yet,” she whispered, fingers brushing against the hem of his shirt. “Come back to bed. Just for a little while.”
Katsuki froze, his throat bobbing as he looked down at her. She was on her knees, reaching for him like he was the only thing in the world she wanted, and it damn near broke something in him. “Rosie, sweetheart…” he started, his voice low, gravelly. He set his bag down with a heavy thud, his hand automatically finding her cheek, thumb brushing just beneath her eye. “You’re makin’ this real fuckin’ hard, y’know that?”
She pressed closer into his touch, her lips brushing his palm. “Good,” she whispered. “Maybe you’ll stay.”
A strangled sound left him, half a laugh, half a groan. He bent down, his forehead pressing against hers, his other arm wrapping around her waist to haul her closer. “If I stay, I’ll never leave,” he murmured, raw and serious in a way that made her chest tighten.
For a long, fragile moment, they just stayed there, her clinging to him, him holding her like he could brand her into his skin. His breath was hot against her cheek, ragged in a way that betrayed just how hard this was for him. Finally, with a low, frustrated sigh, Katsuki tilted her chin and kissed her hard. It was a kiss that stole her breath, one that left her trembling and needy as he poured all of his restraint, his want, his unspoken words into it.
When he broke away, his lips lingered at her temple, his voice rough as gravel. “I’ve got twenty minutes before I have to leave.”
Rosie’s fingers fisted in the front of his shirt, her lashes fluttering as she looked up at him with that pout he could never resist. “Then spend it with me in bed,” she whispered, almost a whimper.
“Rosie…” His tone carried warning, but his hands had already slid down to her waist, his thumbs brushing bare skin where her shirt had ridden up.
She rose higher on her knees, pressing her body flush against his, her lips ghosting along the sharp line of his jaw. “Please, Kats,” she breathed, her mouth finding that spot beneath his ear that made him tense. “Don’t waste it standing here.”
He cursed under his breath, low and guttural, his grip on her tightening. “You’re fuckin’ dangerous, y’know that?”
“Dangerous?” She gave a soft, wicked little giggle, tugging at his shirt until she could drag him closer. Her lips found his again, teasing at first, slow and coaxing but it quickly unraveled into something messier, hungrier.
Katsuki growled into her mouth when her hips shifted forward, the heat of her pressing against him through the thin layers of fabric. “Shit, Rosie…” He stumbled back a step, and she pulled him with her, guiding him until they fell into the bed in a tangle of limbs, his weight covering hers as if it was the most natural place in the world.
The kiss deepened, turned frantic—tongues tangling, teeth clashing. His hands roamed her, rough palms gliding over the curve of her hip, slipping beneath her shirt like he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch her most. Rosie gasped against his mouth when his teeth caught her lower lip, sharp enough to sting, only to be soothed with the hot drag of his tongue. Her nails scraped at his shoulders through the thin cotton of his shirt, her body arching up to meet every press of his.
They moved together instinctively, grinding against each other with an urgency that bordered on desperate, the friction drawing muffled moans and guttural curses alike. Katsuki’s lips trailed down her throat, biting, nipping, sucking until her skin was marked with proof that she was his.
Her hands threaded into his damp hair, tugging until he groaned into her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse. “You’re killin’ me,” he rasped, his voice wrecked, his body betraying every ounce of control he pretended to have.
Rosie only smiled breathlessly, tugging him back up for another kiss, her lips swollen and slick from him. “Good,” she whispered between their frantic mouths.
Katsuki kissed her like a man starved, like every second they wasted was one he could never get back. Rosie clung to him, her fingers sliding under his damp shirt, tugging until he let out a frustrated growl and tore it over his head in one rough motion. The sight of him, bare, still damp from the shower, skin hot and hard against her sent heat spiraling low in her stomach. His muscles shifted under her palms as she traced his chest, nails dragging lightly over his skin just to hear him curse.
His mouth claimed hers again, hot and messy, before it trailed down to her jaw, her throat, lower still. His teeth scraped over her collarbone, his tongue soothing the sting as he groaned against her skin. Rosie arched up into him, desperate, and he answered by grabbing the hem of her shirt and yanking it up and over her head in one swift motion. She gasped when the cool air met her bare skin, leaving her in nothing but the thin lace of her panties. Katsuki froze for a beat, his crimson eyes raking over her with such intensity that it made her flush from head to toe.
“Fuck…” he muttered, his voice low and wrecked. “You’re—” His words cut off with another curse, his lips crashing against hers like he couldn’t stand another second of distance.
Rosie whimpered into his mouth, her legs parting to cage him between them, grinding up into the hard, thick, and hot bulge of his cock that strained against his sweats. He groaned, deep and guttural, pressing down against her, giving her the friction she was begging for.
His hand skimmed down her side, gripping her thigh and hitching it higher around his hip, grinding them closer together until they both gasped. The world blurred, nothing but heat and want and the maddening beat of the clock ticking down those precious minutes.
“Rosie,” he rasped against her lips, his forehead pressed to hers, sweat already beading along his temple. “If I don’t stop now, I’m not fuckin’ stoppin’.”
Her answer was to pull him back down, lips crashing to his, her tongue sliding against his in a messy, desperate kiss. “Then don’t,” she whispered breathlessly, her voice shaking with need. “Don’t stop, Kats.”
He growled, his control unraveling, his hand splaying over the bare curve of her stomach, inching lower, his thumb grazing the band of her panties. She gasped at the touch, clutching at his back, nails digging into his skin.
For one wild, dangerous moment, he nearly gave in, for one wild, dangerous moment, he wanted to give in. Katsuki’s hand tugged at the thin lace of her panties, his body bowing over hers like every instinct screamed at him to take, to claim, to bury himself inside her until neither of them remembered their own names.
Her breath hitched when his thumb brushed over her hipbone, so close, and his teeth found the swell of her breast, nipping, sucking, leaving a dark mark in his wake. Rosie arched, gasping his name, and he cursed low against her skin, his voice wrecked.
“Rosie… fuck—” His forehead pressed to hers, his breath harsh, ragged, his lips hovering over her mouth. “I want you so bad I can’t fuckin’ think.”
She cupped his jaw, wide eyes searching his face. “Easy solution, just don’t think,” she whispered, pulling him into another kiss that was all teeth and tongue and raw need. Her hips rolled up into his again, dragging a groan from his chest that vibrated through her bones.
His sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips now, the only barrier between them, and with every grind of their bodies, it felt like they were seconds away from losing the last sliver of restraint. Katsuki’s hand slid down, gripping the back of her thigh, hitching it higher against his hip until she gasped. Their mouths devoured each other’s, all teeth and tongue and desperate whimpers, both of them straining for more. Then, with a low growl, he rolled them over, the world tilting until Rosie found herself atop of him, her palms pressed to his bare chest.
His crimson eyes darkened, fixed on her like she was the only thing in existence. Rosie’s breath caught, heat pooling low in her belly, and she shifted instinctively, rolling her hips against the hard, thick ridge of his cock beneath his sweats. The friction was maddening, rougher, more urgent than anything she’d ever felt and it stole the air from her lungs.
“Kats—” she gasped, her voice breaking on his name as the sensation of her orgasm rushed through her. His hands clamped down on her hips, guiding her movements, grinding her down harder against him with a guttural curse.
“Fuck, Rosie, doll, sweetheart… that’s it. Just like that,” he rasped, head falling back against the pillows, eyes half-lidded but still burning into her.
The rhythm built quickly and desperately, her panties clinging damp to her as she rocked against him, the fabric dragging and catching in a way that had her panting, whimpering against his lips. His body was solid heat beneath her, every shift of his hips sending sparks racing through her veins.
Rosie clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, and then the all too familiar band of her orgams hit her, hard, sudden, shattering. She cried out, trembling as her orgasm ripped through her, her body clenching helplessly even as she ground down on him.
Katsuki’s answering groan was wrecked, raw, almost pained, his grip bruising on her hips as he fought for control. He sat up, chest to chest with her, mouth devouring her desperate little sounds as she shook against him. It wasn’t enough—not nearly—but it was everything they could steal in those fleeting minutes. Rosie slumped against him, shivering, her forehead pressed to his damp skin, still rocking slowly as if she couldn’t stop. Katsuki’s arms wrapped around her like iron, holding her tight, grinding up against her once more as he hissed a curse into her hair.
“Fuck… Rosie…” He kissed the crown of her head, his voice a low, wrecked whisper.
Rosie was still trembling in the aftermath of her orgasm, her body pressed flush against him, when Katsuki’s restraint finally snapped.
He buried his face against her shoulder, his breath ragged, chest heaving. “Fuck—Rosie—” His voice broke on a guttural groan, and his hands clamped down on her hips, dragging her down against his aching cock in a desperate, grinding rhythm.
She whimpered at the overstimulation, but his need was overwhelming, flooding the air between them. He latched onto the curve of her shoulder, teeth sinking in just enough to anchor himself as his whole body tensed beneath her. A strangled growl tore from his throat as he ground up into her one last time and then he came.
His own release hit hard, shuddering through him as he clung to her like he’d drown without her. Rosie felt the tremors wrack his frame, heard the ragged curse muffled against her skin, and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him as tight as he held her.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. His forehead pressed to her shoulder, his lips hot and damp against the mark he’d left there, and she stroked a shaky hand through his hair. His breath was harsh, uneven, the sound of a man who had lost every scrap of control he usually wielded so effortlessly. Finally, he shifted just enough to look at her, his crimson eyes still dark and heavy-lidded. A crooked smirk tugged at his swollen mouth, but there was something softer underneath it. “Told you you’d kill me, dumbass,” he rasped, voice hoarse from the growls he’d bitten back.
Rosie laughed weakly, still catching her breath, her cheeks burning as she leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Guess we’re even then.”
Katsuki groaned, pulling her down against his chest again, his arms banding tight around her like he could fuse her to him. “Not even close,” he muttered into her hair.
They stayed tangled like that for a minute more, bodies pressed together, skin still buzzing from what they’d done. Katsuki’s arms hadn’t loosened around her once, his breath still warm and uneven against her hair as if he refused to let reality creep back in.
Rosie shifted against him, nuzzling closer, and her pouty little whine muffled against his chest. “Don’t go. Just stay with me…”
His arms flexed tighter around her, like he was considering it—really considering it. “Damn it, Rosie,” he muttered, dropping a kiss against the crown of her head. “You make a hell of a convincing argument.”
She tipped her chin up to look at him, her eyes wide, soft, shimmering in the dim light. “Then stay,” she whispered, almost pleading. “Just stay.”
For a second, his expression faltered, the sharp edges of him softening into something raw and vulnerable. Then he huffed a low, reluctant laugh, pressing his forehead to hers. “If I don’t leave, icy hot’s gonna show up with Deku and bang on the damn door until I drag myself out anyway.”
Rosie let out a small, dramatic groan, burying her face back in his neck. “I hate them.”
“Tch. You don’t hate anyone,” he teased, his hand sliding up and down her spine in lazy strokes, grounding himself in the feel of her. “But I sure as hell will if they wake you up before I do.”
She giggled softly, the sound muffled against his skin, and then let out another whimper. “Still doesn’t make it fair.”
He kissed the side of her head, lingering there for a beat. “Life’s not fair, sweetheart,” he murmured, low and rough. “But I swear to you, I’ll be back before you know it. Two, Four days, max and when I come back…” His smirk curved against her hair, though his voice carried something heavier. “You’re not leaving this bed for a damn week.”
Rosie’s cheeks flamed as she clung to him tighter, trying not to think about how much she wanted that to be true. “You better keep that promise.”
His chest rumbled with a low chuckle, his lips brushing her temple. “Try and stop me.”
The house was quiet except for the sound of Katsuki moving through it, heavy boots against the floor, the faint rustle of his gear as he checked over his overnight bag. Rosie padded after him like a shadow, bare legs peeking out from beneath his oversized hero jacket, the heavy black-and-orange thing zipped up to her chin. It nearly swallowed her whole, the sleeves dangling past her fingers, but she knew he liked her wearing his things.
He glanced back at her once, muttering under his breath, “You’re impossible,” but he didn’t tell her to stop following.
Rosie hummed, carrying the mug of coffee she’d made for him, and when he stopped by the front door to lace his boots tighter, she crouched to tug at the edge of his jacket, fussing with the zipper near his collar. “It’s going to rain soon, you’ll freeze out there. You’re always hot-headed but your body still gets cold, Kats…”
He snorted, lips twitching, though he leaned down enough for her to keep tugging. “Tch. You worry too damn much.”
“You don’t worry enough,” she shot back softly, handing him the coffee once he straightened. He downed half of it in one go, growling in satisfaction at the warmth, while she smoothed her hands down his chest, her fingers lingering just a little longer than necessary.
Katsuki sighed, setting the empty mug aside and tightening the strap of his bag over his shoulder. His hand hovered on the doorknob, twisting and opening it wide. “Alright. That’s it. March your pretty ass back into bed before I lose my damn mind and don’t go at all.”
Rosie’s lips curved, her heart pounding. Instead of obeying, she tilted her head, her cheeks hot as she let out a playful hum. “Or… one last chance?”
Before he could bite out a response, she tugged the zipper down, slowly. The metal teeth rasped in the quiet as the jacket peeled open to reveal her flushed, near nude body as she wore only her pink lacy panties.
Katsuki’s eyes went wide, his breath hissing through his teeth. His bag slid off his shoulder with a heavy thump to the floor. “You’ve gotta be shitting me,” he muttered, his voice low, feral, as he reached for her, the restraint he’d managed to keep all morning unraveling in an instant.
But before he could get his hands on her, there was a sudden thump outside. Followed by a strangled yelp.
“Midoriya!” Shoto’s voice called out, flat as ever, though closer now.
Both Rosie and Katsuki whipped their heads toward the open door—just in time to see Izuku face-planted on the steps, groaning in pain, and Shoto standing over him with his usual stare. Except Shoto wasn’t looking at Izuku, except he was staring straight at Rosie.
Katsuki followed his line of sight, realized what he was seeing, and his entire body locked. Then he moved fast, snapping the jacket closed over Rosie’s exposed skin, yanking the zipper up with jerky, furious precision while snarling curses under his breath. “God—damn—fuckin’—” His arm was around her before she could blink, shielding her completely as he shot both of them a glare so sharp it could’ve drawn blood. “Gonna have to kill them both,” he ground out, his voice a death sentence.
Rosie, red-faced and mortified, buried her face against Katsuki’s chest, muffling her groan. “D–do you think they saw…?”
“Of course they fuckin’ saw!” Katsuki barked, his arm tightening around her protectively as if he could erase what just happened.
Shoto tilted his head ever so slightly, his expression as calm as ever. “They were pink, weren’t they? Lace. Good choice. Momo owns a similar pair.”
Rosie’s entire body went rigid. “S–Shoto!” she squeaked, her voice breaking halfway through his name.
Unbothered, Shoto continued as if he were giving a grocery list. “Although,” he added, his gaze far too thoughtful, “with your skin tone, a deep crimson would be more flattering or perhaps emerald green. They would compliment you better.”
Rosie made a noise so high-pitched it was nearly a scream, hiding her entire face in Katsuki’s chest. Katsuki, however, was not quiet.
“WHAT THE FUCK, ICY HOT?!” Katsuki roared, practically foaming at the mouth. “YOU THINK YOU’RE A GODDAMN VICTORIA’S SECRET CONSULTANT NOW?!”
“I’m just being honest,” Shoto replied evenly.
Meanwhile, Izuku had just managed to push himself upright, blood streaming from his nose, his face flushed redder than a tomato. “S–Shoto, stop—oh my god, Katsuki’s girlfriend—Rosie—I—” He clamped a hand over his bleeding nose, wobbling in place. “Sh–she’s practically naked—!”
“DON’T FUCKING SAY IT OUT LOUD, DEKU!” Katsuki snarled, ready to explode.
Rosie, finally gathering herself, peeked out from Katsuki’s chest and sighed, her embarrassment slowly giving way to her natural caretaking instincts. “Oh, for heaven’s sake…”
Before Katsuki could stop her, she slipped out of his grip and stepped toward Izuku, bare legs and all, ignoring the sputtered string of curses behind her. “Hold still, Izuku.”
“Huh—wait, Rosie—” Izuku stammered, but she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his bruised cheek. In an instant, the swelling around his nose receded, the bleeding stopped, and his face knit itself back together, leaving him whole again.
Izuku blinked, his freckles standing out stark against the blush spreading across his cheeks. “Y–you… healed me.”
Rosie smiled sweetly. “Of course.”
Behind her, Katsuki let out a strangled sound. “You’re fucking dead, Deku—”
But before things could escalate, Izuku, still red-faced, grabbed Shoto by the arm. “We’ll just—we’ll just go wait in the car.”
“Good idea,” Shoto said smoothly, allowing himself to be dragged away without complaint. He did, however, glance back at Rosie once more. “Think about emerald.”
Rosie covered her face with both hands.
Katsuki slammed the door shut behind them, still muttering death threats under his breath. “Gonna kill ‘em both. Burn ‘em alive. Icy Hot’s gettin’ his dumbass frozen balls shoved up his—”
“Katsuki,” Rosie cut him off, turning back toward him, her cheeks still hot but her smile soft. “They’re gone. You should go, too.”
He groaned, running a hand down his face, but when his eyes landed on her, standing there in nothing but his jacket zipped halfway and her bare legs showing—his expression softened despite himself.
He dropped his bag to the floor again and cupped her face in his palms, pressing his forehead against hers. “You’re a menace,” he muttered hoarsely. “How the hell am I supposed to leave when you’re standin’ there lookin’ like that?”
“Because you promised you’d come back to me,” Rosie whispered. “Two, four days max. That’s all.”
Katsuki kissed her hard, desperate and lingering before finally tearing himself away. He grabbed his bag, growled one last curse, and yanked the door open. As he stepped outside, he muttered without looking back, “You better be in my bed when I get home, woman.”
Rosie smiled, watching him go, her heart aching and full all at once.
Notes:
Okay, so yes, finally the smut is beginning to happen🤭😩👌🏻 also loved writing Shoto and Izuku here
Here is the updated playlist for Rosie: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/57iMdy1EpWjp2JLbDCJvQy?si=BT-UMISWR3GDqEzNtxsMMQ&pi=c2KSSEQ8Ta-J_
Here is the updated playlist for Katsuki: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3JKOT3KXQtqq9dmOJfsGDl?si=KAos5TnoQFaBsg6dyTxHjg&pi=ydFTwqhIR7Ghu
These playlists were made for you guys to enjoy while reading but also have clues for plot wise and just songs in my headcanon they would listen to♥️
Anyway, lemme know your thoughts and I will see you guys tomorrow💖
Chapter 163: He’s basically a weighted blanket with muscles. Lucky witch.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
After a long morning of classes followed by an afternoon of work, Rosie was more than ready for something sweet. She’d gone home first to check on Maya and Lady, making sure Maya was fed and her homework spread neatly across the kitchen table while Lady lounged on the back of her couch. Once everything was settled, Rosie had slipped back out to meet Maerya, Akira, and Mina for their long-awaited smoothie date.
Now, the four of them were crowded into a corner booth at a cozy little café. Their booth was littered with napkins, empty plates of half-eaten pastries, and brightly colored smoothies sweating on the tabletop. Rosie sat tucked between Mina and Akira, her knees pulled up slightly, her chin propped on her hand as she watched the three of them volley stories and laughter back and forth.
“So, Maerya,” Mina leaned forward with a sly gleam in her eyes, her straw spinning lazily in her cup of neon pink smoothie, “is Shoji taking you as his date to the wedding?”
Rosie’s head snapped toward Maerya instantly, her brows lifting in interest. Akira mirrored the look, eyes wide, waiting for the answer.
Maerya snorted, leaning back with her usual unbothered grace. “Of course he is. I’d be upset if he didn’t, considering we’ve been sleeping together.”
All three of the girls gasped and leaned closer across the table like synchronized conspirators.
“Just sleeping together?” Akira teased, wagging her brows as she sipped on her smoothie.
Maerya smirked, tracing her finger idly along the condensation on her glass. “We’ve gone on a couple of dates, here and there.”
Mina nearly shrieked, her hands smacking the table so hard the smoothie glasses jumped. “A couple of dates? And you failed to mention this until now?!”
Rosie giggled, hiding behind her cup. “Wait—wait—what kind of dates? Like casual hangouts, or actual dates?”
Maerya tilted her head thoughtfully, pretending to be coy, but the upward curve of her lips betrayed her. “Dinner. Movies. He even walked me home afterward like a total gentleman.”
Akira’s jaw dropped, eyes sparkling. “You’re telling me the big, stoic, six-armed Shoji is courtly on top of everything else?”
Mina flopped dramatically against Rosie’s shoulder with a dreamy sigh. “Ugh, imagine those arms wrapped around you. He’s basically a weighted blanket with muscles. Lucky witch.”
That sent them all into another round of laughter, their voices spilling out louder than they meant to. Rosie was laughing so hard she had to set her cup down before she spilled it.
“Okay, okay,” she wheezed, pressing her hand to her chest. “But seriously, Maerya, this is… kind of a big deal. Like—this sounds more than casual.”
Maerya’s smirk softened into something quieter, her eyes dipping down to her drink. “Yeah… maybe it is. I’m not rushing it, though. Just seeing where it goes.”
“Aww,” Mina cooed, leaning across the table to pinch Maerya’s cheek. “Look at you, all smitten and stuff.”
Rosie watched the three of them with her heart swelling, the laughter and little confessions weaving together into that kind of perfect, messy, girlish joy. They were loud, unfiltered, and hopelessly teasing—but it felt safe. It reminded her so much of times with her mother and Akira in her bedroom, memories that felt like years sgo.
Maerya leaned back in her chair with her smoothie in hand, fixing Mina with a look that was both smug and probing. “Enough about me. Let’s talk about you.” She pointed her straw like an arrow. “Kirishima and you have been dating longer than Izuku and Uraraka. So what gives? When’s he finally gonna make it official?”
Mina immediately turned pink, her lips curling into the kind of grin that screamed I’m hiding something. She giggled, twirling the straw in her drink. “Actually…” She dragged out the word dramatically, eyes glinting. “I think he might be asking me soon.”
Rosie nearly choked on her sip of smoothie, coughing lightly as her eyes went wide. “Wait, what?!” She leaned forward across the table, voice hushed even though excitement buzzed off her like static. “What makes you say that?”
Akira narrowed her eyes, sensing a juicy reveal. “Ohhh no, don’t tell me he told you. Because that’s cheating, Mina.”
Mina pressed her lips together to stifle another giggle, shoulders bouncing like she could barely keep it in. “Nothing like that!” She waved her hands quickly. “He didn’t say a single word.”
“Then how do you know?” Maerya demanded, brows rising.
Mina leaned in close, lowering her voice into a conspiratorial whisper, forcing the other three to huddle in tighter. “Okay, so… I was doing laundry the other day. You know, washing his Hero costume because that thing takes a beating—”
Rosie gasped, eyes already wide as her mind jumped ahead. “No way—”
Mina grinned wider, nearly bursting with the secret. “Yes way. I was emptying the pockets before throwing it in the wash, and guess what I found?”
“A ring?” Akira hissed, clutching at Rosie’s arm dramatically.
Mina nodded, her cheeks glowing with color as she squealed softly. “A ring. In a little velvet box, all tucked away like he thought I wouldn’t notice.”
All three of them erupted at once—Akira smacking her hand against the table, Maerya covering her mouth in mock shock, and Rosie clasping her hands together with sparkling eyes.
“Oh my god, Mina!” Rosie gushed, bouncing in her seat. “That’s huge! He’s definitely going to ask you soon!”
Mina hid her face in her hands, groaning through her grin. “I know, I know, but I wasn’t supposed to see it! Now I can’t stop overthinking every date, every little thing he does.”
Akira leaned in, smirking. “Girl, if he so much as drops to tie his shoe, you’re gonna faint.”
“I know!”
Maerya smirked around her straw, eyes glinting like a cat that had just spotted prey. “Well, well, looks like we’ve got another wedding to plan in the future.”
Mina practically squealed into her hands, while Akira’s grin stretched from ear to ear.
“Perhaps so,” Mina admitted, cheeks glowing. But then her gaze slid slyly toward Rosie, who was already shaking her head, cheeks heating before anyone had even said a word.
“Oh no,” Rosie groaned, hiding her face behind her smoothie cup. “Don’t even start—”
“Too late,” Akira cut in gleefully, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. “So… you and Dynamight. Spill.”
“We just started dating!” Rosie sputtered, voice going high and flustered. “It’s not—it’s not like that.”
“Mmhm, sure,” Maerya drawled, twirling her straw lazily. “That’s why he looks at you like you personally hung the damn moon.”
Rosie’s jaw dropped, and her face burned hotter. “He does not!”
Mina and Akira gasped dramatically in unison. “Oh my god, he does!” Mina giggled, clutching her chest. “Rosie, you should see yourself—you go all soft every time you even say his name.”
“I do not!” Rosie tried to protest, but her voice cracked halfway through, which only made them all howl louder.
Maerya leaned in even closer, her smirk sharp and knowing. “Let’s be real. You’ve practically moved into his place, you’re always texting him, and he literally glares daggers at anyone who so much as breathes near you. That’s not ‘just started dating,’ sweetheart. That’s a man who’s already planning where to put the ring.”
Rosie covered her face with both hands, whining, “Stop! You’re being ridiculous. We’re just—comfortable. That’s all.”
Akira reached over and tugged Rosie’s hands down, grinning smugly. “Comfortable, huh? So comfortable that he can’t keep his hands off you?”
Rosie froze, eyes going wide, lips parting in panic. “I—I never said that—!”
The table erupted into another fit of giggles, the kind that drew a couple of amused glances from nearby tables. Mina reached over to squeeze Rosie’s hand, her smile softer than the others. “It’s okay, Rosie. You don’t have to downplay it. We can all see it. He’s crazy about you—and honestly? You’re glowing.”
Rosie blinked at her, lips parting, her protests caught in her throat. Heat flooded her cheeks, but she couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at her lips. “You guys are the worst,” she muttered, but her voice was warm, soft, betraying how much her heart was fluttering just from hearing it.
Akira waggled her brows mischievously, sipping her smoothie before setting it down with a little clink. “Sooo, Rosie,” she sang, “tell us—does he live up to all that fiery reputation when the two of you are alone?”
Rosie nearly choked on her own drink. “Akira!” she squeaked, coughing into her napkin as the others howled with laughter.
Maerya leaned back, smirking smugly. “What she means is—does he turn into a total softie? Because I’m betting he does. All bark and explosions in public, but behind closed doors…” She wiggled her brows suggestively.
Rosie’s face went crimson, and she slammed her hands on the table. “I am not discussing my private life with you guys!”
“Oh, come on,” Mina cooed, leaning across the table, her chin resting on her hands. “Just one tiny detail. Does he cuddle? Is he the big spoon, or does he let you be?”
Rosie covered her face again with both hands, groaning. “You’re impossible. All of you.”
But her silence said more than her words, and the girls immediately shrieked, exchanging knowing looks.
“She didn’t deny it!” Maerya cackled, smacking the table.
“She so didn’t deny it,” Akira agreed, grinning wide.
Rosie peeked through her fingers, cheeks blazing, then muttered under her breath, “You know, you three act like I’m the only one in this group with a love life.”
That made them pause just long enough for Rosie to jab a finger at Akira. “You’ve been dating Monoma for some time now. Why don’t we talk about that, huh?”
Akira’s smile faltered into something softer. She shook her head, sipping through her straw with a shrug. “Us getting married isn’t happening any time soon,” she said firmly. “Especially since I want to settle in my life here first—live on my own, work on my own—before making any decisions that involve rings and taking last names.”
Mina pouted at her, though there was understanding in her eyes. “That’s fair. You’ve always been practical.”
“Practical and stubborn,” Maerya teased, though there was no bite in it.
Akira only smirked back. “Better stubborn than rushing into something I’m not ready for.”
Rosie listened quietly, her earlier fluster melting into thoughtfulness. She admired Akira for saying it so easily, for knowing what she wanted without blinking. Still, a little flutter of warmth stirred in her chest when she thought about Katsuki, about how quickly he was becoming the center of her world—ready or not.
Steam curled lazily from the bathwater, the scent of lavender bubbles filling the small bathroom. Rosie leaned back against the porcelain, her damp hair twisted up into a messy bun, a few strands curling against her flushed cheeks. The door was propped open—more for peace of mind than anything else—so she could hear the faint scuffle of Maya’s little paws darting back and forth in the living room.
On the bathroom counter, Lady was curled up like a queen, chin resting on her paws as she dozed, occasionally flicking her tail when Maya’s nails clicked too loudly against the hardwood.
Rosie sighed, sinking deeper into the bubbles until they kissed her collarbone. A day full of work, errands, and classes had left her bone-tired, but here in the warm water, she could almost forget everything—except the silence.
Her phone buzzed against the sink, screen lighting up, and her heart gave a little leap.
Incoming FaceTime: Pomchi
She sat up quickly, sloshing water against the sides of the tub, and hit accept with wet fingers.
The moment his face filled her screen, wild hair damp from a shower and shirt collar askew, Rosie exhaled a shaky sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God,” she murmured, leaning her cheek into the side of the tub like she’d been holding her breath all day. “Do you know this is the first time I’ve heard from you since you left this morning?”
“Tch,” Katsuki’s voice came through low and scratchy, his lips twitching like he was trying not to smirk. “Miss me that bad, huh?”
Rosie rolled her eyes, though the corners of her mouth betrayed her. “Don’t act like you didn’t go radio silent all day. I was worried.”
Behind her, Maya barked once, her little head popping into view of the camera as she hopped against the bathroom doorway. Katsuki’s grin spread instantly. “Oi, is that my girl?”
Rosie turned the phone slightly, giving him a view of Maya bounding in circles before collapsing into a panting heap on the rug. Lady, still on the counter, opened one lazy green eye at the noise before going back to sleep.
Katsuki chuckled, the sound rumbling through her phone and curling warm in her chest. “Damn cotton swabs got more energy than you.”
“I’ll have you know I’m perfectly content in my bubble bath,” Rosie retorted, sinking back into the suds so only her shoulders and face peeked out. “Unlike you, who disappears for hours and leaves me to fend for myself.”
“Feh. You look fine to me,” he drawled, his sharp eyes softening as they roamed over her tired but glowing face. “Real fuckin’ fine.”
Heat climbed her neck at the way he was looking at her, like the distance between them didn’t matter, like he could climb through the screen if he wanted. She ducked her chin into the bubbles, hiding her smile. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re mine,” Katsuki said simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Katsuki leaned back in his chair, phone propped up against something on his desk so he had both hands free. Rosie could tell he was still tugging on his boots, probably just gotten in himself, hair still damp and curling at his temples.
“Alright, spill,” he ordered, his voice gruff but warm. “What the hell did you do all day that’s got you lookin’ like you melted into that tub?”
Rosie perked up instantly, shifting against the bubbles as if she’d been waiting for him to ask. “Okay, so—after class this morning, I went straight to work, and it was insane. We had a delivery that was, like, triple the usual size, and of course the boss didn’t bother to schedule anyone extra, so it was just me and Kanako hauling all the ingredient boxes.”
Katsuki grunted, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth. “Bet you bitched the whole time.”
“Only a little,” she admitted with a grin. “But then Maerya bought me a smoothie to make up for it, and then—oh!” She sat up straighter, bubbles dripping down her arms as she gestured. “We went to the farmer’s market again after! Akira and Maerya came too, and it was so fun. We found this stand with the prettiest sunflowers—you should’ve seen them, Katsuki, they were taller than me!—and then this bakery stall that had these little hand pies. I got us some, they’re in the kitchen for later.”
He raised a brow. “Hand pies, huh? You try ‘em?”
“Of course I did!” she said, eyes sparkling through the screen. “They were amazing. Like, melt-in-your-mouth flaky. I almost bought a whole box, but Akira told me I was being dramatic.”
“Hn. Should’ve bought the box,” he muttered, but the small, private smile tugging at his lips betrayed how much he was enjoying watching her ramble.
Rosie didn’t stop. She never did when he gave her that look—the one that said he’d listen as long as she wanted. “Then we walked through this little row of antique stalls, and Maerya found this gorgeous set of hair pins—like, old fashioned, all pearly and pretty—and she was debating buying them, but Akira said she’d just lose them like she loses all her jewelry.”
Katsuki chuckled, low and genuine, shaking his head. “Figures.”
Rosie leaned her chin on the rim of the tub, her voice soft but still full of energy as she went on, “After that, Mina dragged us into this little craft shop, and we ended up looking at ribbons for, like, thirty minutes. I may have bought a few more…” She toyed with the bow still perched in her hair, cheeks coloring.
Katsuki’s teeth clenched,“Yeah? You’ll have to show me later.”
Rosie’s smile widened, and she kept yapping—about the new fruit she’d bought, the old man who’d given them free samples of honey, how Maya had practically tackled her when she got home, how Lady had been in the same spot she left her.
Rosie shifted against the bubbles, resting her chin on her folded arms along the rim of the tub. The steam curled around her flushed cheeks as she blinked at the screen, studying him where he sat—hair damp, shoulders still tense, boots half-laced.
Her voice dropped, quieter now, a touch of hope threaded in. “How was work today? You look exhausted… did any of you get hurt?”
Katsuki grunted, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Busy as hell. Nothing we couldn’t handle.”
Rosie hummed, lips pursing as though she didn’t quite believe him. She tilted her head, the corner of her mouth curving into a small smile. “Any chance you might come home early? Or…” her voice softened even more, shy in its delivery, “…do I have to wait until Friday for you to return?”
He stared at her through the screen, at the way her lashes were damp and clinging together, her ribbon slightly askew, the faint hope in her eyes she probably thought she hid well.
“Tch. Damn doll, makin’ it sound like I’d rather be anywhere else,” he muttered, but the sharpness was all bark. His lips curved upward in the softest smirk. “I’ll try. No promises, but… I’ll try.”
Rosie beamed instantly, cheeks glowing brighter than the bath steam alone could manage.
Katsuki leaned back in his chair, phone balanced in one hand, his other tugging loose at the collar of his black shirt. The smirk tugging at his lips was dangerous. “Y’know, you look way too damn comfortable in there, doll. Sitting pretty in all that steam while I’m stuck smelling like sweat and blood.”
Rosie flushed instantly, ducking her chin into the bubbles. “I’m not… I’m just trying to relax, that’s all.”
“Mmhm,” he drawled, eyes narrowing slightly like he could see right through her coy little smile. “Bet if I were there, I’d have you squeakin’ out of that tub in five minutes flat.”
“Katsuki!” she squeaked, splashing water in protest, though her grin betrayed her. “You’re ridiculous.”
He chuckled, satisfied with the way her ears turned red. Then, softer, more grounded, “So, what’s your day look like tomorrow?”
Rosie brushed some suds from her shoulder and sighed, her voice a little dreamy from the warmth. “I’ve got classes in the morning, then lunch with my dad and uncle. After that… work. And then probably drowning in homework.”
“Busy little thing,” Katsuki muttered, but his gaze softened with pride.
Her sigh came heavier this time, her body sinking further into the bubbles. “I wish I could just stay in this tub forever. No classes, no work, no papers, no nothing. Just this.”
Katsuki barked out a laugh, sharp and amused, his teeth flashing through the screen. “What the hell, Rosie? You sound like an old lady already. Stay in the tub forever? You’d wrinkle up like a damn raisin.”
Rosie covered her face with her hands, laughing despite herself. “You’re so mean.”
“Not mean,” he corrected smoothly, voice dipping lower, smug. “Just the only one who’ll keep you honest.”
Notes:
You guys better lock in your votes because this weekend is going to be a lot of stuff going on🤭
as always lemme know your thoughts and I will see you in the next one💖
Chapter 164: You know what? Not my circus, not my monkeys.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The clatter of plates and low hum of chatter filled the small family-owned restaurant, sunlight spilling in from wide windows. Rosie sat between her dad and her uncle, a glass of iced tea sweating in front of her while the two men dug into steaming bowls of soba.
Hizashi was the first to fill the silence—of course he was. He waved his chopsticks dramatically. “So get this, I had a class this morning where one of my students tried to ‘enhance’ his costume with glitter paint. GLITTER, Ro! Can you imagine me trying to explain to Principal Nezu why there’s glitter all over the gym floor?”
Rosie giggled, covering her mouth politely. “Oh no, Uncle Hizashi. You can’t even get glitter out of fabric. Or… well, anything.”
“Exactly! It’s the herpes of the craft world!” Hizashi declared, loud enough for the table behind them to glance over.
“Lower your voice,” Aizawa muttered, looking like he regretted every life choice that had led him here. He speared a piece of tempura calmly, chewing with all the world-weariness of a man who had heard Hizashi monologue for decades. In his case, he had.
“Don’t be a grump, Sho,” Hizashi shot back, but Rosie leaned into her dad’s shoulder with a smile.
“How’s work been for you, Dad?” she asked softly.
“Busy,” Aizawa replied, straightforward as always. “Both Pro Hero work and teaching part time.”
She lit up at that, even if he said it with his usual deadpan delivery.
Then his sharp eyes shifted toward her. “Speaking of classes. How are yours? And the coffee shop? You’ve been balancing a lot lately.”
Rosie poked at her food with her chopsticks, a little bashful under his scrutiny. “It’s been good. Classes are tough, but I’m keeping up. The shop’s been really busy with the new seasonal drinks—it’s fun, though. Customers get excited about pumpkin everything.”
“That’s my girl,” Hizashi beamed, throwing an arm around her shoulders and nearly making her drop her chopsticks. “Killing it in school, killing it at work! Next thing we know, you’ll be running your own place and forgetting all about us boring old pros.”
She laughed so hard she nearly snorted, her cheeks aching from smiling.
“Don’t encourage her to take on more than she already does,” Aizawa said dryly, though his gaze softened when Rosie met his eyes. “But… you’re doing fine. Better than fine.”
By the time their bowls were mostly empty and Rosie was finishing the last sip of her iced tea, her dad finally broke the easy rhythm of chatter. He set his chopsticks down, folding his hands neatly in front of him, his gaze heavy on her.
“So,” Aizawa began in that deceptively casual tone that always made her wary, “I know you already insisted that you didn’t want to date, but that lawyer friend of mine, he is respectable, good head on his shoulders. You’d like him.”
Rosie froze with her straw halfway to her lips. Across the table, Hizashi stilled as well, chopsticks hovering mid-air. Slowly, deliberately, he turned to look at her, one blond brow arched, and she returned the look with wide eyes, silently screaming not this again .
She didn’t say anything at first, fiddling with her napkin. Hizashi, the traitor, smirked like he was watching a play unfold.
Rosie finally cleared her throat. “Dad…” She tried for gentle but firm, meeting his eyes directly. “I don’t need to be seeing anyone right now.”
Hizashi coughed into his fist, clearly covering a laugh.
Aizawa just stared at her, unreadable. “You’re young, yes. But I’d rather you not waste your time with people who won’t last. A stable, respectable man isn’t a bad thing.”
Rosie’s cheeks heated, though her voice stayed steady. “I don’t feel like I’m wasting time. I’m fine where I am.”
“Mm.” He gave that little grunt that could mean anything from mild disapproval to quiet acceptance, leaning back against the booth like he was weighing her words.
Hizashi jumped in before the silence could stretch too long. “Sho, let the girl breathe! She’s got school, work, a pet, little Eri and us—she doesn’t need a guy in a suit added to her plate.”
Rosie laughed softly at that, relief loosening her shoulders. She glanced at her uncle with a grateful smile, then back at her dad. “Exactly. I’m happy, Dad. Really.”
Aizawa’s eyes lingered on her for a moment, searching, but finally he gave the smallest nod and reached for his tea again. “We will revisit this discussion at a later date.”
That simple concession sent a wave of warmth through her chest, and she couldn’t help smiling as she reached for his hand across the table, giving it a squeeze.
Rosie’s head went back and forth like she was watching a tennis match, her eyes darting between Yui and Limeria as their bickering grew sharper. Both stood in the middle of the café with aprons tied, arms folded, glaring at each other like sworn enemies instead of coworkers and best friends.
“It makes more sense for me to take the upstairs bathrooms—I’m faster,” Yui snapped, jabbing her finger toward the ceiling.
Limeria huffed, flicking her braid over her shoulder. “Please. You’re sloppy and everyone knows it. I’ll take upstairs, you handle downstairs. That way nothing gets missed.”
Rosie pinched the bridge of her nose, already feeling the headache forming. “Luckily Kanako’s in the kitchen with Maerya,” she muttered under her breath, grateful those two were at least being productive with baking. Aloud, she sighed and waved a dismissive hand. “You know what? Not my circus, not my monkeys. You two figure it out—I’m not touching this with a ten-foot metal pole.”
Before either girl could try to drag her into it, Rosie turned on her heel and retreated to the safety of the front counter. Her textbooks and laptop were already spread out on the corner, her film history notes half-finished. Sliding onto her stool, she tucked her hair behind her ear, humming quietly as her pen scratched across the page.
Every so often the bell above the café door chimed, pulling her up from the textbook. She’d smile, take an order, prepare drinks with practiced ease, and hand off warm pastries from the display case. Customers came and went, their voices blending into the cozy hum of the café, and Rosie slipped right back into her seat, scribbling down notes about Italian Neorealism before humming under her breath again.
It became a rhythm—homework, bell, order, drinks, pastries, back to homework.
It wasn’t until the sharp crash echoed from upstairs that Rosie nearly jumped out of her seat, pen clattering against her open textbook. The sound was loud enough that the entire café seemed to pause, the chatter cutting short into a sharp hush. The kitchen door swung open at once. Maerya and Kanako stumbled out with wide eyes, flour streaking their cheeks and streaks of icing smeared across their aprons. They looked like they’d lost a war with a wedding cake.
“What the hell was that?” Maerya demanded, her voice carrying across the café.
Rosie gave a helpless shrug from behind the counter, lips twitching as she stood. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t hear glass shatter, but… that definitely wasn’t a good noise.”
The three of them rushed upstairs, heels clicking against the wooden floorboards. Rosie’s heart dropped as soon as they reached the landing.
There it was, a complete disaster zone. Two trays overturned, shards of porcelain plates and mugs littering the floor, coffee dripping down the walls like dirty rain, pastries crushed into the carpet. In the middle of it all stood Yui and Limeria—faces flushed, chests heaving, both still shouting over one another like rabid cats.
A group of customers seated at the upstairs tables stared openly, eyes wide, some whispering and pointing.
“It’s been five hours,” Rosie muttered under her breath, dragging a hand down her face.
Kanako groaned and crossed her arms. “I don’t even want to ask. What now ?”
Rosie lifted a brow and gestured toward the chaos. “First it was home décor—who has better taste in curtains, of all things. Then it turned into who would take the upstairs shifts versus downstairs shifts. And now… well, apparently, this.”
Maerya, however, had heard enough. With a long, slow inhale, she marched forward, her heels crunching over crumbs and glass shards, and in one swift motion she snagged Yui by one ear and Limeria by the other. Both girls yelped in unison, their voices carrying across the café.
“Alright,” Maerya said sweetly, though the sharp glint in her eyes promised doom, “now that I have your attention .”
“OW! Ow ow ow—Maerya, let go!” Yui cried, clutching at her wrist.
Limeria was no better, squirming and whining, “That’s not fair! She started it!”
“Do I look like I give a damn who started it?” Maerya hissed, giving their ears another tug that made both girls squeak.
Rosie covered her mouth with her hand, trying and failing not to laugh at the sight. Kanako pinched the bridge of her nose like she was praying for patience, but even she looked dangerously close to a smile.
“Clean this mess up,” Maerya growled at the girls, releasing them with a sharp flick of her wrists. “Both of you. Together. If I hear one more word, one more peep out of either of you, I will personally banish you to scrubbing the bathrooms for the next month. Am I clear?”
Both Yui and Limeria rubbed their sore ears, glaring at each other through watery eyes. “Fine,” they muttered in unison.
Satisfied, Maerya clapped her flour-streaked hands together, then glanced back at Rosie and Kanako. “Problem solved.”
Rosie lifted a brow, biting back a grin. “You know, if teaching doesn’t work out for you, you’d make an excellent prison warden.”
Maerya smirked, utterly unbothered. “Don’t tempt me.”
“Bet Shoji loves it when you boss him around like that,” Kanako teased, lips quirking with mischief.
Maerya only rolled her eyes, muttering something that made both Rosie and Kanako laugh before Rosie remembered the crowd of customers still staring, half-stunned by the spectacle they’d just witnessed.
Smoothing her apron, Rosie stepped forward, her best customer-service smile plastered on. “I’m so sorry about the drama, everyone. Coffee on us today—pastries too.” She moved smoothly between tables, handing out warm muffins, scones, and croissants from the counter, her voice gentle and apologetic. “Thank you for being patient with us. I promise we’ll keep the theatrics to the stage from now on.”
The customers’ stiffness melted one by one, laughter breaking out, a few murmured thank yous and even one elderly man winking at Rosie as he accepted his free danish. Within minutes, the atmosphere warmed back to normal, chatter and clinking mugs filling the air again.
By the time Rosie returned downstairs, she exhaled with relief. The clock behind the counter read just past six, which meant she had exactly an hour before Eri would arrive at her apartment. Time to wrap it up.
She stacked her unfinished homework back into her backpack, tucking her film history notes carefully between the pages of her textbook, and slung the strap over her shoulder. Her apron came off next, folded neatly before she draped it on the hook.
“Alright, I’m clocking out,” Rosie called, poking her head into the kitchen where Maerya was still supervising Yui and Limeria’s punishment-cleaning.
“All good?” Kanako asked, lifting her chin in acknowledgment.
“Good enough,” Rosie said with a small laugh. “I’ve got Eri coming over in an hour, so I need to run.”
“Give her a hug from us,” Maerya said, smirking even as she tugged a mop out of Limeria’s hands to show her the right way to do it.
“Bye, Rosie!” Yui and Limeria called in sing-song unison—clearly trying to earn points for good behavior. Rosie only shook her head with an amused sigh.
“See you guys tomorrow,” she waved before swiping her card through the time clock. The machine beeped, and just like that, she was off the clock.
Pushing open the café doors, she stepped into the evening air, where a cab already sat idling at the curb—right on time. She slipped inside, tucking her bag into her lap, and gave the driver her address.
As the car pulled away, Rosie leaned back against the seat, letting the noise and chaos of the café fade into memory. Her mind was already shifting, softening, at the thought of preparing her apartment for Eri’s visit.
“How does one kiss a boy?”
Rosie nearly dropped the plate she was rinsing, the ceramic slipping in her soapy hands before she caught it at the last second. She blinked hard, turning toward her little sister perched on the kitchen island like a curious owl. Eri sat there in her pajamas, legs swinging back and forth, wide crimson eyes fixed on Rosie with innocent seriousness.
Rosie cleared her throat. “Kiss?”
Eri nodded matter-of-factly. “Yeah. You know, with your mouth.”
Rosie gaped at her, towel in hand, torn between laughing and panicking. “Does Dad know you’re wanting to kiss boys?”
Eri didn’t even flinch. She tilted her head, all slyness for a twelve-year-old. “Does Dad know about Katsuki?”
“Eri!” Rosie’s face went scarlet in an instant, her voice squeaking up an octave.
“What?” Eri shrugged, utterly unbothered as she examined her fingernails like this wasn’t the conversational equivalent of a landmine. “It’s true. So why does it matter if I want to kiss boys?”
Rosie dropped the towel onto the counter with a groan, pressing her palms to her face. “Oh my god. You’re supposed to still be into, like, dolls and candy, not boys!”
Eri gave her a look that was far too old for her age. “Rosie, I still like dolls and candy. I can like more than one thing at once.”
That earned a laugh Rosie couldn’t quite suppress, even as she sat down across from her. “Okay, fine. But listen—that question is way more suited for Akira than me. She’s an expert in…” Rosie waved a hand vaguely, “that whole kissing-boys-and-girls department.”
Eri wrinkled her nose. “I already asked her. She gave horrible advice.”
Rosie raised a brow, curious despite herself. “What did she say?”
“She said, ‘Just shove your tongue in there and see what happens.’” Eri made a face, her whole body recoiling in disgust. “That sounds gross. I don’t want to shove anything anywhere. I want to… you know… kiss.”
Rosie burst out laughing so hard she had to clutch her stomach. “Yeah, okay. That definitely sounds like Akira’s advice.” Wiping tears from her eyes, she smiled at her sister, softer now. “Alright, I get it. You don’t want advice from her . You want advice from me.”
Eri’s little shoulders slumped in relief. “Finally, yes. Someone who knows what she’s talking about. So…” She leaned forward on her hands, eyes gleaming. “Teach me.”
Rosie chewed on her bottom lip, stalling, trying to think of something that sounded both appropriate and not totally humiliating. “Okay… so…” she rubbed the back of her neck, already feeling her cheeks heat up, “…kissing isn’t about shoving anything anywhere. It’s… um…”
Her brain short-circuited, unbidden images of Katsuki flashing across her mind—his hand at the back of her neck, his mouth hot and insistent against hers, the way her knees always went weak like she’d been unplugged from reality. Rosie’s whole face flamed.
“…it’s about… being close,” she managed, her voice higher than normal. “Like, you just… lean in, kind of slow, and you, uh… let your lips touch. And then—” she made a vague gesture with her hands, her eyes darting anywhere but at her sister—“if it feels right, you move a little… softer, like… like you’re breathing them in.”
Eri stared at her blankly, her head tilted. “You’re blushing,” she said flatly.
“I am not !” Rosie squeaked, throwing a dish towel at her.
“You are,” Eri deadpanned, catching the towel and smirking with smug little-sister glee. “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”
Rosie groaned, slumping onto the counter with her face buried in her arms. “Why did I agree to this conversation?”
Eri giggled, swinging her legs. “Because you love me and because you’re better at explaining than Akira.”
Rosie lifted her head, glaring half-heartedly. “For the record, kissing is not just… mechanics, okay? It’s about… wanting to be close. About trust. About… feeling safe.” Her voice softened without her meaning to, and again Katsuki filled her mind, the warmth of him, the way she melted every single time.
Eri’s expression gentled too. “That sounds… nice,” she admitted quietly.
Rosie smiled faintly, brushing a hand over Eri’s hair. “It is. But don’t worry about rushing into it, okay? You’ll know when the right moment comes and the right person.”
Eri leaned into her hand, cheeks a little pink. “You’re kind of good at this, you know.”
Rosie snorted. “Yeah, tell that to my pounding heart and my brain screaming at me to shut up.”
That made Eri laugh, bright and ringing, and Rosie couldn’t help but join in—even if her face was still hot as hell from thinking of Katsuki the whole time.
Later that night, Eri had tucked herself into the corner of the couch with Maya curled up against her side and Lady sprawled lazily across her lap. The TV hummed low in the background, some cartoon keeping her entertained while Rosie finished folding and putting away the last of the laundry in the bedroom. She sighed as she smoothed the final shirt onto the stack and shut the dresser drawer with her hip.
Her phone buzzed in her back pocket. Pulling it out, Rosie’s heart gave that familiar little lurch when Katsuki’s name flashed across the screen. FaceTime.
She answered immediately, brushing hair out of her face as his scowling-yet-handsome mug filled her screen. “Hey,” she breathed, softer than she meant to.
“Hey, doll,” Katsuki’s voice rumbled, warm and grounding even through the phone. He looked tired, his hair sticking up worse than usual, still in his work gear, but his eyes softened when he saw her. “How was your day?”
Rosie smiled faintly, shifting the phone so she could lean back against the dresser. “Busy. Class this morning, then the coffee shop was slammed—someone spilled two trays’ worth of orders, and it turned into a whole circus. After that, I came home, made dinner, folded laundry. Oh—and I babysat, if you count keeping Eri from feeding Lady all her snacks as babysitting.”
Katsuki huffed a low laugh, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Sounds like a pain in the ass. But you handled it.”
“Barely,” Rosie teased. Her voice faltered a little before she admitted, “Eri… um… she actually asked me a question today that kind of threw me.”
He raised a brow. “What kinda question?”
Rosie pressed her lips together, heat creeping up her neck. “About… kissing.”
Katsuki barked a laugh, the sound sharp and amused. “What the hell? She’s, what, twelve?”
“Thirteen!” Rosie groaned, covering her face with her free hand. “I nearly dropped a plate when she asked me. And then—then she wanted me to explain it because apparently Akira gave her ‘horrible advice.’”
Katsuki’s grin turned downright wicked. “So you had to tell her how it’s done?”
Rosie peeked out from between her fingers, cheeks blazing. “I tried. But I think I made it worse. I was rambling, and I… might’ve gotten a little distracted.”
“Distracted?” His tone dropped low, smug. “Lemme guess—you were thinkin’ about me.”
“Shut up,” Rosie mumbled, hiding her face again, though the laugh that escaped her gave her away.
Katsuki smirked into the camera, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Damn right you were. Next time, don’t explain—just tell her her sister’s got plenty of practice.”
Rosie made a strangled noise, burying her face fully in a folded sweater this time. “You’re impossible.”
“I’ve never heard you complain before,” he shot back smoothly, his voice softening at the edges. Katsuki’s expression shifted then, the hard lines easing, all sharpness melting into something only she ever saw. “You’re somethin’ else, doll.”
Rosie’s lips curved, her cheeks warming at the way he said it—like she was the only thing that existed in his world right then. “That’s a new one,” she hummed, though her voice wavered, more fragile than playful.
There was a beat of quiet between them, the sound of Eri’s cartoon faint in the background, before Rosie exhaled slowly and admitted, “I miss you.” Her voice cracked on the word, and she chewed her bottom lip, suddenly nervous for saying it aloud.
Katsuki’s jaw ticked, not with anger, but with the effort it took to hold himself steady. His gaze locked onto hers through the screen, unwavering. “Tch. ’Course you do. I miss you too.” His voice was low, almost gruff, but there was no mistaking the raw honesty underneath.
Rosie blinked at him, her chest tightening. “You do?”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” he muttered, a little embarrassed now, scratching at his jaw. Then his eyes softened again, more vulnerable than she ever thought he could look. “I should be home in two days. And when I get there… you’ll have me all to yourself for two damn weeks before I’m shipped out again.”
Her breath caught, a smile breaking across her face before she could stop it. “Two whole weeks?”
“Mm.” Katsuki smirked faintly, though his voice stayed hushed, like it was just for her. “Two weeks where you don’t get rid of me, no matter how much I annoy the shit outta you. Two weeks where I’m not sharing you with anyone else.”
Rosie laughed softly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as her eyes grew glassy. “I don’t think I’ll ever want to get rid of you.”
“Good.” His smirk gentled into a smile, rare and fleeting but real. “Then it’s settled.”
Notes:
Fun Fact: Kanako is based on a girl I used to work with back when I lived in Cali and worked at Starbucks. She was always going on some vacation abroad and often brought me souvenirs. I miss her and think about her a lot☹️
Yui and Limeria are girls that I went to community college with. We had Sociology together and often grouped together for projects and studied together👌🏻
Okay so be prepared girlies because it’s happening next chapter🤭 as always lemme know your thoughts and I will see you in the next one💖
Chapter 165: Did you really think it would be that easy?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
After dropping Eri at her dad’s, Rosie stopped at the grocery store. A bottle of wine, ice cream, and the ingredients for fried rice filled her bag—comfort food for a quiet evening in. She hummed softly to herself as she unlocked her apartment, punching in the code to disable the alarm before stepping inside.
The apartment greeted her with silence. Too much silence. Rosie set the groceries down on the counter, slipping off her shoes, but something felt… wrong. Usually by now Maya’s nails would be tapping frantically against the hardwood floor, her high-pitched yips filling the air as she bounded to greet her.
“Maya?” Rosie called, her voice hopeful.
Nothing.
Her heart skipped. She called again, louder, her chest tightening as her words were swallowed by the apartment’s stillness. A prickle of unease crawled up her spine, and she began moving through the rooms, her pace quickening with every second of silence.
When she entered her bedroom, she froze. Lady’s wide eyes blinked at her from beneath the bedframe. The cat was trembling, pressed so far back against the wall it took coaxing to get her out. Rosie crouched, gently scooping Lady into her arms, stroking her fur to soothe her. “Shh, it’s okay, baby. What happened?” she whispered, though her own hands were shaking.
Cradling Lady to her chest, Rosie made her way back to the living room, scanning every corner for Maya. Her gaze caught on the basket in the corner, her dog’s bed. It was empty.
But not entirely.
A single folded piece of paper sat neatly in the middle, so out of place it made her stomach drop. Her breath caught in her throat as she set Lady gently on the couch, reaching for the note with trembling fingers. She unfolded it, and the messy crazed block letters scrawled across the page made her blood run cold.
If you want your dog back then you will come to this address alone. Try and call anyone and I'll kill the bitch and send her to you in pieces. Leave your phone behind.
The paper slipped slightly in her grasp as her knees threatened to give out. For a long, stunned moment, all she could do was stare, her mind blank except for the image of Maya in some stranger’s hands—terrified, hurt.
Her pulse thundered in her ears. Every instinct screamed to call her dad, to call Katsuki, to call anyone. But the words of the note seared into her thoughts: kill the bitch and send her in pieces.
Rosie swallowed hard, fighting the sob clawing its way up her throat. With shaking hands, she grabbed her purse, stuffed the folded note inside, and forced herself to move. Her phone lay on the counter, buzzing faintly with a notification. She hesitated only a second before setting it down, just as instructed.
Every step out of the apartment felt heavier, as though she were walking into quicksand. Down the hallway, into the elevator, past the polished lobby with its soft hum of fluorescent lights. She hugged her arms around herself, trying to look casual though fear bled from every pore.
Outside, the night air bit against her skin, grounding her just enough to keep her moving. The yellow glow of the taxi she’d ordered cast a halo on the curb. Rosie climbed in, her chest tight as she gave the driver the address scribbled on the note.
As the cab pulled away, she stared out the window, her reflection pale and drawn. Lady’s frightened eyes lingered in her memory, Maya’s absence pressing down like a weight.
Was she doing the right thing? Walking straight into a trap, alone, no backup, no plan? Her father’s face flashed in her mind, Katsuki’s too—how furious, how terrified they’d be if they knew.
But then she thought of Maya, her wagging tail, her happy yips. The way she slept curled against Rosie’s side at night.
Her throat tightened. If there’s even a chance she’s alive, I have to try.
Still, as the cab drove her farther from safety and deeper into uncertainty, Rosie couldn’t shake the gnawing thought circling in her chest: What if I just made the biggest mistake of my life?
Rosie stared up at the warehouse looming before her, its jagged roofline silhouetted against the ink-black sky. The building looked like it had been abandoned for decades—windows shattered, the steel siding rusted and peeling, the door hanging slightly ajar as though daring her to step inside. The biting cold nipped at her arms, raising goosebumps on her skin, and she cursed herself under her breath for not grabbing a jacket.
Perfect. Just perfect. She is about to get murdered, and she is going to die freezing in nothing more than a skirt and a cropped sweater.
The gravel crunched beneath her boots as she forced herself forward. Every step felt deliberate, heavy with dread, but also steady. She’d seen enough horror movies to know how this story usually ended—the girl too dumb, too desperate, walking into the dark without a second thought. Except… this wasn’t some movie. This was Maya. And if she was going to be the stupid girl in the scary story, then fine—she’d do it for her dog.
Inside, the air was thick and stale, heavy with dust and damp rot. The warehouse seemed to sigh around her with every gust of wind, the beams groaning as if in warning. Rosie’s fingers twitched at her sides, but she squared her shoulders, refusing to let herself curl in on the fear tightening her chest. You’re not a scared little girl anymore. You’ve survived worse than creaky walls and shadows.
Her boots echoed as she crept down the narrow hallway. The walls, cracked and stained, were marked with red arrows streaked in jagged lines. One glance told her it wasn’t paint. The copper tang clung faintly in the air, unmistakable.
Rosie’s throat bobbed, but instead of faltering, she steadied herself. If anything, it lit a fire inside her. Whoever thought this blood-painted breadcrumb trail would scare her didn’t understand—fear was nothing compared to the thought of losing Maya.
Her heart drummed against her ribs as she followed the arrows, deeper into the labyrinth of the warehouse. Every shadow seemed to lurch, every creak of the metal beams rattled her bones, but her steps never faltered.
When she stepped into a vast, open chamber, she froze. The arrows ended here, bleeding out into the concrete floor. The space was cavernous, hollow, the ceiling disappearing into darkness. Her instincts screamed that she’d just walked into the center of the trap.
She took a cautious step back, ready to retreat, when the sound hit her.
A sharp, high-pitched yelp. Familiar and desperate.
“Maya?!” Rosie’s voice cracked as she called out, but she didn’t hesitate—her body moved on instinct, chasing the sound that pulled her like a magnet.
She weaved between broken machinery and rusted beams until the whimpers grew louder, sharper, cutting straight into her chest. Then she saw it: a small cage shoved against the far wall, a mess of chains wrapped cruelly around it. Maya’s paws scraped against the bars, her eyes wild and wet as she yipped frantically at the sight of her.
Rosie’s breath shuddered, relief and fury warring in her veins. “Oh, baby girl…” She dropped to her knees, reaching out to touch the cold metal. “I’m here. I’ve got you. Just hang on.”
Her hands flew to the lock, fumbling, desperate to pry it open. She could almost feel Maya’s frantic heartbeat matching her own. For a moment, it was just them—the world shrank down to the cage and the promise that Rosie would get her out.
Then the air shifted.
A voice, low and smooth, curled like smoke through the shadows. “Did you really think it would be that easy?”
Rosie’s entire body went rigid. Slowly, she turned, her hand still clutched on the lock of Maya’s cage. From the darkness, a figure stepped forward, his movements unhurried, deliberate. Pale light glinted off sharp features she recognized instantly, though her stomach twisted at the sight of him here.
Riku.
He stood tall, a cruel smirk tugging at his mouth, his eyes gleaming with something predatory.
Once upon a time, she had thought he was gorgeous. When Rosie first moved to Japan, he’d been a new regular at her work. Everything about him had fit the dreamy checklist she’d built in her head for the kind of man she thought she wanted—tall, with long dark hair that always looked effortlessly styled, a tribal tattoo curling under his left eye that made him look dangerous in a way that thrilled her. He was built, broad-shouldered, and carried himself in expensive suits for his comfortable job. His deep, sultry voice had been smooth as velvet, his words dripping with compliments every time he came in. He loved dogs, owned one himself, a sweet pup named Kiba, and back then, Rosie thought how could he not be perfect?
He had been the sexy, dark, older man that was so out of her league, and yet he gave her butterflies whenever he looked her way.
But now, staring at him in the shadows of this godforsaken warehouse, all those old feelings curdled into bile. Every memory of kindness was nothing but a trap, a facade, because behind it all was this, the stalker who made her sick to her stomach, the monster who stole Maya.
Her lip curled in disgust. “What do you want, Riku?”
“You should’ve just listened to what I had to say, you stupid bitch!” he spat, his voice no longer smooth but cracked and venomous.
Before Rosie could react, his hand shot out and tangled viciously in her hair. She screamed, stumbling as he yanked her head back. Maya barked frantically from the cage, clawing at the bars, her cries fueling Rosie’s panic. “Let go of me!” Rosie hissed, her hands clawing at his wrist, trying to pry him off.
His grip only tightened, his knuckles grinding against her scalp until her eyes watered. With a cruel jerk, he dragged her across the concrete, her boots scraping as she stumbled to keep up. Her cries echoed in the cavernous room until he finally threw her down onto the cold floor at its center.
Her palms slapped hard against the concrete, a sharp sting shooting up her arms. Before she could get her bearings, Riku had drawn a gun, the matte black barrel glinting under the dim overhead light. He leveled it at her chest, his voice low and seething.
“Sit in the chair.”
Rosie looked past the gun to the rickety wooden chair bolted in place just a few feet away. Every instinct screamed at her to obey. To make herself small, to obey and to just survive. But another part of her, the part that had survived that asshole Kyoma wanted nothing more than to bury her hand into his chest and rip his heart out.
She pushed herself to her knees slowly, trembling but with her chin high. “What is this, huh? Some sick fantasy? Kidnap the girl who wouldn’t give you the time of day and play out whatever gynophobia complex you have? You’re pathetic.”
His nostrils flared. “You will shut your mouth if you know what is good for you,” he snarled, taking a step closer.
“Why? Because you told me to?" Rosie snapped, her voice quivering but steadying with every word. “You're such a fucking coward.” The words tasted like acid on her tongue, but she refused to stop, even as the gun tilted higher.
“Sit down,” he hissed again.
“No,” Rosie said firmly.
The backhand came hard and fast. Her head snapped to the side, the force of the blow rattling her teeth. A sharp sting bloomed across her cheek, and the metallic tang of blood spread in her mouth. Rosie gasped, her palm flying up to the burn on her skin, eyes watering as she met his twisted snarl.
“Ungrateful bitch,” he spat, towering over her. “You’ll learn to respect me—one way or another.”
Even as tears blurred her vision, Rosie forced out a bitter laugh, bloodied lip curling. “Respect? You don’t know the meaning of the word.”
The barrel of the gun pressed harder into her temple and still—she didn’t look away.
Riku’s breath came in ragged bursts, his chest heaving as though the rage inside him was consuming the last threads of sanity he had left. The gun trembled in his hand, not out of weakness, but out of barely contained mania. His eyes, once sharp and smoldering when she first met him, were wide and glassy now, the whites bloodshot and wild.
“You don’t get it, Rosie!” His voice cracked into a laugh that made her stomach twist. “You were supposed to be mine! From the very first moment—you smiled at me. You looked at me like I mattered. Nobody ever looked at me that way before!” He threw his free hand through his hair, yanking at the dark strands as he began pacing in front of her, the gun swinging dangerously with each movement. His steps echoed through the cavernous warehouse, the sound uneven, frantic. “And then—then you betrayed me. You smiled at him. That fucking loser Hero wannabe” His head snapped toward her, eyes narrowing, spit flying from his mouth. “That nobody. You gave him everything that was supposed to be mine!”
Rosie flinched but held his gaze, refusing to let him see the fear coiling in her gut. Her pulse thundered, but she stayed kneeling, every instinct screaming to not make any sudden moves.
His words turned sharp, each syllable stabbing through the air. “I love you! Do you know what I sacrificed for you? How many times I dreamed of this exact moment—just you and me, no one else in the way?”
Rosie’s stomach churned. His eyes gleamed feverishly, his smile stretching too wide, too sharp, like a mask splitting his face in two. He waved the gun almost carelessly now, as if he was so lost in his own fantasy he’d forgotten how close he was to ending her life. “You think I’m pathetic?” he sneered, circling her like a predator. “No, Rosie. I’m the only one who’s ever truly seen you. The real you. Katsuki—he doesn’t know you like I do. He doesn’t worship you the way I do. He doesn’t dream about you, doesn’t breathe you in every damn second of every damn day—”
His voice broke, twisting into a guttural growl before exploding again into manic laughter. He dropped to his knees suddenly, right in front of her, the gun still aimed but his other hand reaching to cup her cheek almost tenderly.
Rosie recoiled, biting back a shudder as his thumb smeared over the blood on her lip, his touch trembling with obsession.
“You were supposed to love me back,” he whispered, his eyes boring into hers with crazed devotion. “Say it, Rosie. Say you love me, and I’ll make all of this stop.”
Her skin crawled, every nerve screaming. His hand on her cheek felt like fire, and yet the gun pressed to her ribs kept her rooted. She knew one wrong word could tip him into complete madness—if he wasn’t already there.
Riku’s grip tightened on her face, rough fingers digging into her jaw as he pulled her toward him. Before she could twist away, his mouth crashed against hers.
It was all wrong.
Rosie froze, revulsion crawling under her skin. His lips were cold, forceful, tasting of bitterness and sweat. Nothing about it was familiar, nothing like Katsuki’s kisses—the ones that left her dizzy, flushed, butterflies rioting in her chest. Katsuki’s kisses were heat and fire, gentle when she needed them to be, passionate and toe-curling, a promise and a comfort all in one. This? This was suffocating, hollow, like poison seeping into her veins.
Her stomach turned violently. She shoved at his chest with all her strength, breaking the kiss, spitting the taste of him away. “Don’t you ever kiss me again!”
The rejection snapped something inside him. His expression twisted, the mania hardening into fury, his wild eyes going sharp and dangerous. “You dare push me away?” he hissed, spit flying as he raised the gun. “You think you’re too good for me?”
Before Rosie could react, the steel barrel slammed against the side of her head. A blinding pain ripped through her skull, and her world went black.
Notes:
Ooooo I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I know I did😁 anyway lemme know your thoughts and I’ll see you guys Tuesday for the next update💖