more than roommates, but not lovers (Bakugou x Reader)

by sukunas_20_fingers

Summary:

In your last year at UA University, you are required to be paired with a roommate for a mandatory assignment. When you and Bakugou are forced to share an apartment together in order to graduate, you discover there is more the him than you thought.

His warm heart is hidden behind his rough exterior and you soon find out his bark is worse than his bite. With forced proximity and growing feelings, who knows if either of you will make it out unscathed, or your hearts still intact.

Notes:

I had this idea pop into my head after 1. Watching "More Than a Married Couple, But Not Lovers" and 2. Seeing the MHA time skip and Bakugou looking scrumptious. I hope y’all enjoy! Eventually there will be smut… for now it will burn slowly...

The reader is she/her, but feel free to use your own pronouns. I CANNOT FOR THE LIFE OF ME write "Y/N" so it's in 1st person JUST PRETEND it's "you" instead of "I" please and thxxx

This is a modern, college AU, so no quirks! But they will be hinted at when it comes to the characters' personalities. Everyone is 20+ years old.

Chapter 1: luck of the draw

“I fear I am going to vomit all over my new sweater.”

Momo is sitting in front of me, staring at the blue August sky and sipping on her iced coffee. Her bouncing knee shakes the rickety table we are sitting at. The green liquid in my cup vibrates from her anxious tapping. I pick up my cup and sip as well, trying to stifle my smile. The summer sun warms my skin and the breeze ruffles the hair around my face.

“It’s our last year here, Momo, then we will be free of this place. We can handle anything for one year, right?” I sip my matcha latte again, the iced, green drink settling my nerves. 

I am unsure if I said that to reassure her or myself, but either way it felt all for naught. 

“I just don’t get how we are forced to be practically married to some rando in our class in order to graduate.”

“You’re not going to marry a rando, first off. We just are getting assigned roommates of the opposite gender. We’ve been going to school with these people for 3 years now, it’ll be fine.”

“What does this assignment entail though?” Momo drops her cup down on the table, not noticing how her nervousness rattles her drink. She starts fidgeting with her long hair, twisting and curling the dark locks around her fingers in her own way of self soothing. “I am not going to fulfill the duties of a housewife, if you know what I mean. Whoever I am stuck with better not assume I am going to cook and clean for them.”

“I’m sure it’s just a way to see how we interact and cohabitate with others. If we can survive Public Speaking 101 with Mr. Mic, we can survive anything.”

A small smile breaks through on Momo’s face, momentarily causing her to stop twisting her black hair. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about this practical, but I was making an effort to act calm before my more-nervous-than-me friend. My own stomach twists and yanks on my heart, the butterflies inside me thundering around, beating their wings on the walls of my ribs. 

I glance at my phone. “Well, it’s time. We gotta go.”

Momo lets out a dramatic moan as we both grab our bags and start walking toward the lecture hall where we will soon find out who we will be living with for our last year of college. 

“I mean, I guess I could look at the bright side,” Momo says after a few moments of silence, “I could get paired with Shouto or Tenya.”

“This is true,” I finish my last sip of my drink and toss the cup in a trash can as we turn the corner toward our lecture hall. “Both of those boys are sweet, and at least we know they would have good intentions.”

Momo twists her hair in silence as we continue walking speedily to our class. 

“I wonder what will happen with the couples. There’s no way Mr. Aizawa would let them stay together. That would be cheating.” 

I nod in reply and laugh, “Oh my gosh, could you imagine how Denki and Kyouka will react to not being together?"

We both giggle at the thought and enter the room. We pick our usual seats close to the back and drop our bags under our tables as our classmates pile in. On the projector in front of us, a slide reads “Life and Social Sciences 441: Cohabitation Practical ”. This class is required for graduation, no matter what major someone is in. That’s why Momo, a graphic design major, and I, an exercise science major, are in the same course.

My heart flutters as I scan my classmates filtering in. I wonder who I will be paired with. I watch as two tall boys enter and sit two rows in front of us. Both are muscular and built. One has light blond hair and the other has dyed, blood red hair. I recognize them quickly. I have had a few classes with them each semester at UA University, and I could never forget those two. Eijirou Kirishima and Katsuki Bakugou. Stars of the UA University football team. The red haired Eijirou is much more tolerable than his blond friend. Katsuki Bakugou is rude, selfish, loud, conceited, and completely ignorant of everyone but him. Did I mention rude?

“I feel bad for whoever is stuck with Bakugou,” I whisper to Momo. She stifles a laugh and flicks my arm. 

The conversations between the other students in the class are quickly silenced when Mr. Aizawa enters. His gloomy countenance does not help my nerves as the reality of my situation settles in. 

“Good morning, and welcome to one of the last Life and Social Sciences classes you’ll take here at UAU.” He says blandly. 

The slide switches to a course outline. “This class is required by the University for graduation. So don’t even think about switching out.” He pauses for emphasis, looking around. “Here you’ll see this course’s requirements to pass.” 

I can’t focus on any of the words as he flicks through the syllabus. 

Next on the slide, there is a layout of the apartments we will be using for the assignment. Each apartment has one kitchen, living room, laundry room, and bathroom, with two bedrooms each. 

My concentration is struggling to stay intact. My heart races as I imagine living in that tiny space with another person until May.

“And now, for your assignments. You’re welcome to take a picture if you can’t see from your seats. And before anyone asks, no. There is no switching. Read it and weep.”

The slide flips to a table that shows 3 columns. The first column has the apartment numbers. The second and third columns are the pairs. There are 20 students in the course, so 10 rows, equalling 10 pairs. I scan desperately for my name, and find it at the bottom.

My heart sinks. My stomach flips. My skin crawls. 

Just my luck.

Next to “Apartment 10 ” and my name reads the one I want to see the least.

“Katsuki Bakugou.”

Shit.

Shit.

Chapter 2: and they were roommates…

Momo sighs in relief, “Oh thank God I got Shouto. Who did you…”

Momo quickly cuts herself off as she reads the names under her own.

“Holy shit,” She covers her mouth and glances at me.

I don’t know what my face looks like, but I am sure it is pure horror. How bad is my luck that I am stuck with the rudest dick I know? My jaw is surely unhinged and resting on the floor, but I’m too appalled to notice. 

“Momo, what do I do? I’m so fucked!” I whisper to her, wide eyes and pure desperation in my voice. 

“Meet your partner and come get your keys from me. Practical starts now.” Mr. Aizawa says, interrupting my spiraling. 

I watch as the pairs find each other. Denki is with Ochako. Kyouka with Eijirou. Mina with Izuku. Shouto quickly walks over to us and smiles at Momo. I tune out their conversation as the tall, muscular blond in front of me stands. I see his eyes scanning the room until they meet mine. The color is so intense they are nearly crimson. His scowl is equally intense as he rolls his eyes and looks away from me as he starts gathering his things. 

He rolled his eyes? At me?! 

Like any of this is my fault! I pick up my backpack from the floor and head his way. He is halfway out the door when I catch up to him. 

“Hey, um, Bakugou?“  

“What do you want?” He practically growls at me. 

I am taken aback at his tone. It was so sharp and unfeeling.

I swallow, “We should get our keys from Mr. Aizawa. You know… for our apartment.”

He scans me and rolls his eyes. Again. The absolute audacity of this man. 

“Fine,” was all he spits at me before turning on his heel. I follow behind him dejected, already wanting this stupid assignment to be over. He snatches his key from our professor’s hand, turns, and pushes past me. Without a word. Without even a glance at me.

I plaster a fake smile on my face, and thank Mr. Aizawa for my key as he hands it to me. 

I have no idea how I am going to survive these next months. 

+++

The apartment is small but adorable. One positive of the day. Upon entering, I see there is a small kitchen to my left. Sage green cabinets, a large stainless steel sink attached to a half wall, and white countertops. The white tile backsplash contrasts from the silver stove top and fridge. Dark wood floors span the entirety of the apartment. On the other side of the half wall sits a small, wooden dining table with four chairs and a bouquet of fresh orange tulips. Further into the space sits a plush “L” shaped couch. As I walk past it, I let my fingers touch the soft fabric. It faces a large wall mounted TV that is paired with a gaming console underneath. On the coffee table, there is a binder with Life and Social Sciences 441: Cohabitation Practical on the front. I make a mental note to sit down and read that later, since I didn’t focus much during Mr. Aizawa’s presentation. 

I leave the living room in search of the bathroom. I assume it is somewhere in the lone hallway that is behind the living room era. The hall is a right-hand turn when you walk through the front door. In the hall, there is one door on my right, one at the end, and two on my left. The door on my right is a small room with a washer, dryer, and hot water heater. I quickly move on to the door at the end. It opens into a gorgeous bathroom. 

There is a large, marble countertop directly in front of me, with double sinks and a mirror that spans the whole length of the counter. Intricate, dusty blue tile covers the walls, and large white tiles blanket the floor. The cabinets are white, and the faucets, handles, and hardware are black. To the right is a toilet and a shower with glass walls. On the left is a luxury bathtub that could fit four of me. The large bathroom instantly lifts my spirits. I knew if I had to share a bathroom with someone, it better be big enough.

I let myself wander from the bathroom to the two doors on the left of the hall. I open both and notice the layout for each is the same. I opt to pick the room closest to the bathroom. The rooms are larger than expected, as well. I take a few steps inside and relish in the feeling of the plush, ivory rug that almost spans the whole room. On the left side is a queen size bed fashioned with a heavy, emerald green duvet and a large, arched mirror that sits near the closet. The far wall holds a large window with a reading nook. Perfect for snuggling up with a good novel. The nook is full of pillows and blankets in different shades of cream and sage. On the right side of the room is a white desk and white desk chair that was definitely purchased from Ikea, but aesthetic nonetheless. 

I walk back to the living room, grab the binder from the coffee table, and return to the room I deemed as mine. I flip through the book until I find the tap titled “Housing Accommodations.”

“In order to ensure that students get the opportunity to fully enjoy their spaces, each student will receive $500 to purchase items for their apartments. These items include but are not limited to: blankets, decorations, books, video games, movies, and other items. A separate amount of $500 ($250 to each student) will be deposited in each student’s bank account monthly for essential purchases and grocery expenses. These items include but are not limited to: food, toiletries, dish soap, toilet paper, etc. ”

$500 from the start just for decorations and books? This is starting to sound better and better! I decide to keep flipping through the binder. I flip back to the beginning which says “Syllabus” on the first page. Before the detailed outline of how we will be graded, there is a paragraph that is from Mr. Aizawa. 

“Dear students,

“The Cohabitation Practicum is a new program designed to help prepare you all for your futures. This assignment is to help you gain experience with collaboration and compromise.

“This course is graded by how successful you and your partner will be together. It is encouraged that you will cook, clean, study, and spend time with one another. You will be paired for all assignments in this class, and will sometimes have to work with other partnerships. Life requires you to interact and collaborate with others, whether through work, marriage, or other conditions. Use this time to better understand yourself and how you handle team work.

"This class is required by UA University for graduation. I don’t make the rules, so don’t whine to me about it. This is life. Time to be an adult. Don’t have too much fun. 

- Shouta Aizawa, professor of Life and Social Sciences”

I let out a sigh as I finish the paragraph. Somehow Mr. Aizawa’s blunt tone helps ease my nerves. I can do this, right? It is just two semesters of living with someone else.

Quickly, my nerves return when I remember that that “someone else” is Katsuki Bakugou.

I consider myself an easy going person, I get along with most everyone and I stay out of drama. But him? He is impossible to tolerate. Maybe I’ll buy some noise cancelling headphones with my allowance from the program. 

My phone buzzes in my back pocket. I open it to see two notifications. The first is an email from “[email protected]” stating both my initial $500 personal allowance and my $250 monthly stipend has been deposited (Fuck yeah!). The second notification is a text from Momo.

MOMO < 3: OMG! Did you get your allowance, too!? We are going shopping NOW!

I smile and text back:

Me: I’m in. Barnes and Noble first?

MOMO <3: Absolutely, meet you at the library in 15 minutes?

Me: Yes ma’am! 

I open my notes app and quickly make a shopping list. I decide to wait and force Bakugou to come with me to the grocery store. We can compile that list together. This shopping trip is strictly selfish retail therapy. 

+++

“Have you read this one?” Momo points to a book with a cartoon couple on the front.

“Oh, not yet! It’s on my list though!”

We stroll through the aisles of books, pointing out the ones we’ve read already and the ones we have been wanting to read. My fingers brush the spines of paperbacks and dust covers as I scan through titles. I pick up a few, reading the backs and then placing them back on the shelf. I make it to the romance aisle and pick up an Ali Hazelwood book I haven’t read yet and place it in my basket. 

“You should read this, Momo.” I say, pointing toward a fantasy book that I read last year.

She picks it up, examines the black and red cover, and places it in my basket. 

“I trust your judgement. I think I’ll pick something up for Shouto, what do you think he would like?”

I think for a moment, “I’m really not sure. You know him better than I do. But I’m sure he would appreciate the effort.”

Momo picks up a few manga volumes on the featured table and examines each. She decides on a new Shounen and adds it to our pile. 

“Did you two get to spend any time together at your apartment?” I ask.

“Just a little bit! We read the syllabus together and unpacked our stuff into our rooms. I really think it’ll work out well between us. I couldn’t imagine being paired with someone who wasn’t as chill as him.” She smiles, but her smile quickly fades when her eyes meet mine.

“Oh, um, sorry. Didn’t mean to rub it in your face,” she says apologetically. 

I laugh softly, “Don’t worry about it, it’s fine. I’ll survive.”

“What about you? Did you guys get settled in?”

I scoff, “He hasn’t even come home yet.”

Home. What a weird word to say. I have not felt at home once since this project began a few hours ago. I don’t know if I ever will.

I continue, “I don’t know what will happen. All I care about is that I pass this stupid course and graduate in May.”

My friend gives me a soft smile and squeezes my shoulder reassuringly. “You’re right. If anyone can handle that menace of a man, it’s you.”

She winks at me and I playfully shove her away. My heart warms at my friend's comforting words. She was right, I can do this. 

We shop around for a few more hours, making various stops at stores for decor for our new rooms. It’s peaceful, spending these moments with my dearest friend. We ride the campus shuttle back to our apartments. I was grateful when I remembered that hers was only a door down from mine. It brought a greater sense of comfort knowing I could stop and visit her as needed.

I awkwardly juggle my many bags and unlock the door. Pushing through, I notice a pair of shoes that had evidently been kicked off hastily and shoved out of the way. My stomach flips, Bakugou is here. 

He isn’t a stranger. I have taken classes with him for the past few years but have had minimal interactions. He also is on the football team, and as an exercise science major I often have to help the trainers wrap and tape players. Bakugou isn’t often injured, so I don’t see him much but still, I know who he is and sadly, his personality. 

I walk a few more steps into the kitchen, no sign of him. I turn right down the hallway. I am nearly to my room when I hear the bathroom door unlock a few feet away from me.

Plumes of steam escape through the door as it opens. I am sure my face is bright red as I see a very wet, nearly naked man in front of me. A plush, white towel is wrapped around his waist and covers the lower half of him. My eyes betray me and are glued to his toned body. Water droplets race down his chest, rolling over his pecs and down his abs. My eyes travel upwards until they meet his. His scarlet eyes are framed by wet strands of blond. The embarrassment of being caught staring washes over me. His face is flat, but his cheeks are tinged pink. Maybe from the hot water, maybe from being caught in a state of undress, or maybe a mix of both.

My mouth is desert dry as I try to find my words.

“Oh, uh, hi! Didn’t know you were home!” I force my enthusiasm. I am trying very hard not to sound startled, which makes me sound even more awkward. My skin is crawling. Why do I become socially inept when a half naked man is in front of me?

He says nothing, just continues staring at me with that half scowl. I wonder if it is permanent.

“Well,” I start, unsure of where I am going with this, “I’m pretty hungry but I didn’t get to go grocery shopping. Would you want to go get food with me?”

I’m rambling now. 

“Or I could DoorDash something? Like pizza or sushi? Is there something that sounds―”

“Can I get dressed please?” 

My jaw tightens at his firm tone. His eyes scan me with such deep uninterest, I feel no more intriguing than dust on a shelf.

“Oh, um, of course,” I mumble, averting my eyes to the wall.

I see him shift in my periphery, then he crosses his arms. I look back at him. Now he is definitely glaring.

“Could you move, idiot?” 

I recoil at his tone. I didn’t notice that my arms full of shopping bags were taking up the entirety of the small hallway. I shift and somehow open my room door. I step halfway in so he can walk around me. Without so much as a glance in my direction, he walks right around me, one hand holding his towel while the other reaches for his room door. 

What an absolute dick. 

“Bakugou,” I attempt to keep my voice level and hide my frustration.

He stops. His left hand is squeezing the door handle. He sighs and glares down at me. He is taller than me, but not by a drastic amount. Yet, his very, very shirtless and toned body makes me feel microscopic.

“What now?” he grumbles.

“Meet me halfway,” I plead. “This assignment means a lot to me and we both need it to graduate. I don’t know if you care about the grade, but I do. So please, could you try and make this bearable for both of us?”

He continues staring at me. His jaw ticks with annoyance as he gives me a once over. The silence is unbearable. 

“Could you at least pretend to tolerate this?” I groan. Before I could continue embarrassing myself, his bare shoulders droop, still dotted with beads of water. 

His expression is unreadable. He opens his door and steps in. Before it shuts, he mutters one word.

“Pizza.” 

+++

I sit in the corner of the couch scrolling mindlessly through my phone when he emerges from his room. He is towel drying his hair as he walks toward me, wearing baggy sweatpants and a tight black shirt with the name of some sports team I don’t know. 

“Food is on the way,” I state, glancing at him.

He grunts. I guess that is his way of acknowledging me. To my surprise, he sits down on the couch next to me. I mean, he is multiple feet away from me, but I will still consider it next to me. I try to act nonchalant as he leans back on the plush cushions and exhales.

I pull my legs under me as I turn to face him. While he was getting dressed, I changed into some yoga pants and a large sweatshirt I got years ago. 

I grab the TV remote and mute the random cooking show that was playing as I was waiting for him. “So I was thinking that we probably need to establish some ground rules.”

He groans in protest, “What now?”

“If we’re going to live together for the entirety of our senior year, we need a system.”

I pick up my phone and click on my notes app. I scoot closer to him to show him the list I compiled. 

“First, since we’re both living here, it’s only polite to ask the other before inviting people over.”

He nods, uninterested. I continue, though my next statement warms my cheeks as I speak.

“That also means if you’re going to invite over a date, please let me know so I can leave before your bed frame rattles my wall.”

His eyes widen.

“Shit, woman. You don’t beat around the bush at all.”

“No, I don’t,” I say. Yes, that was an extremely awkward subject to bring up in one of our first encounters. It had to be said, though. Heaven forbid I have to listen to that. 

“Also, we should try to do as much stuff together as possible so we can get a good grade,” I point to the list. “We should have chores and house duties lined out.”

“You sound like my mother,” he growls, rolling his eyes. Yet he leans toward my phone, actively listening to me. I try not to notice the way his outstretched arm on the back of the couch is practically around my shoulders. I inhale deeply and attempt to continue, but now I notice the clean smell of soap from his freshly-showered body.

“It’s important,” I scold, diverting my attention back to our conversation. “Is there anything you absolutely hate doing? Like, I can fold clothes and do dishes any day. But putting them away is a different story.” 

He sits and thinks for a moment before groaning, “I can put away the dishes and clothes.”

I smirk. Compromise is a beautiful thing. 

“What about cooking? I’ll be honest, I’m a painfully average chef.”

“I can cook.”

I raise an eyebrow at him and turn, meeting his eyes.

“You cook? How domestic of you.” 

“Shut up, nerd. I expect you to help me.”

I roll my eyes. Ass.

“Fine.”

This is going a little smoother than expected. He is still an asshole, yet it is surprisingly organic, this flow of banter between us, And it makes me surprisingly… optimistic? Is that the right word? Maybe it is just the serotonin returning to my system after the sheer amount of stress I was carrying all day.

The food is delivered soon after. Thankfully, the teenage delivery driver was kind enough to bring us paper plates. I go to the fridge and grab two drinks from the pack I had bought earlier when I was shopping with Momo. 

I offer one to him as he grabs a slice from the box. He scoffs at me, but accepts the drink.

“On a school night?” He snarks.

“Yes, on a school night. Today was exhausting.”

“You’re not wrong,” he says under his breath as he takes a bite from his slice.

“What did you do after class?” I ask in an attempt to make small talk.

“I went to the gym with Eijiro.” He takes another bite, then a sip of his drink. I think that is all he is going to say until he adds, “You?”

I finish the slice I have been working on, “I went shopping with Momo.” I take a swig of my drink then remember, “Oh! Did you see your bank account? They sent us stipends for groceries.”

“Oh shit, really? Well that’s cool.” 

“I was thinking, would you want to go grocery shopping tomorrow? Then we could get food we both like.”

He pauses but answers me, “Fine.”

Small victory. “Do you know when you’re available?”

“I only have one class tomorrow at 11 and football practice before that. Anytime after that is fine with me.”

“Great,” I say, “I have a class at nine, then I’m free.”

“Sounds good,” he mumbles through a bite.

We eat in silence for a little bit. It may not be harmonious, but living together may not make me gouge my eyes out just yet. Maybe he will start being more tolerable, eventually.

We both start cleaning up the table, he throws away the trash while I wipe off the crumbs. I notice a soft, warm buzz inside me. I think the small amount of alcohol was just enough to soften my edges and calm my nerves. It also gives me a small amount of courage.

“Truth or dare?”

His eyebrows furrow as he stops what he was doing.

“That’s a stupid game.”

“Humor me, roomie.”

He rolls his eyes and walks to the sink, rinsing then drying his hands. 

“Fine, roomie ,” he says mockingly. I snort and make my way to the couch. I pat the seat next to me as an invitation. 

“Go ahead, truth or dare?” 

Walking over to me, he shakes his head but replies, “Truth.”

“What’s your birthday?”

“That’s a very invasive question.”

I rolled my eyes, “I’m going easy on you. Be grateful.”

“April 20th.”

“See, was it that hard?” I tilt my head at him condescendingly. 

Again, that earns me a glare from him, but he replies. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” I say. He would soon learn that I rarely pick dare.

“Um…” he stalls, looking around the room. His eyes land on the gaming console under the TV. “Do you play video games? What’s your favorite?”

“I’m definitely no gamer, but I will play occasionally. Mostly when it means I get to hang out with my siblings. I would probably say I prefer Minecraft. But if it’s a story game, I like the Zelda games or The Last of Us.”

He looks back to me, “You have siblings?”

“Sure do. I have a brother and a sister.”

He nods, “That’s cool.” He adjusts his hips in an effort to get more comfortable.

Why am I looking at his hips?

“I am an only child,” he says unprovoked, interrupting my thoughts, “What’s The Last of Us?”

I gasp, “Holy shit. Really? It’s beautiful, gut-wrenching, and terrifying all at once. Amazing, right?”

“Is that the zombie one?” he adds.

“They’re not zombies, they’re ‘infected’. They’re technically still alive. They’re infected with this crazy cordyceps fungus.”

All I get from him is a single raised eyebrow and a single word. “Nerd.”

“Hey, don’t act like it’s not interesting!” I glare at him.

He chooses truth again and I ask, “Will you ever choose dare?”

“Maybe. Truth or dare?” he answers.

“Wait, I didn’t ask a question yet!”

“Except you did, truth or dare?”

I glare but back down. 

“Dare!”

His arrogant, smug expression grows as he looks me over. “Hmmm… I dare you to let me read some pages from your book.”

My eyes widen. “What book?” 

“I saw it in your shopping bags. The blue one with the people on the cover.”

Oh. Fuck. I mean, things could be worse. But for some reason, the idea of his flipping through one of my smutty romcoms is mortifying.

“Why would you want to do that?” I ask, trying so desperately to act like I am not embarrassed to death.

“Mina has that book. She’s always telling Kirishima about this ‘smut’ stuff she reads. I gotta see what the big deal is.”

I watch his face as his cocky expression and his crimson eyes scan me. He knows my skin is crawling, he is enjoying this.

“Aw, come on, roomie ,” he taunts, “Do you not want me to see the nasty things you like to read?”

I try desperately to keep my expression unreadable as I stand. “Be right back,” I mumble to him.

I quickly walk to my room, heart pounding as my stomach does gymnastics. Really, this is not that dire of a situation. It is just highly embarrassing. He has discovered my love for smutty romcoms. How did he even care enough to see that book in my bag? I quickly find the book and glare at the title. “You did this to me,” I whisper to the pages.

I toss it next to him as I return. “All I ask is that you don’t read it out loud. I haven’t read this one yet.”

He snatches the book victoriously and flips through. “Let’s see, let’s see…” he mutters to himself, “Here we go!” He must have found what he was looking for.

I cover my mouth as I watch him read. His eyes widen and his expression drops. Along with his jaw.

“Damn,” he mutters slaw-jawed as he gapes at the pages, then at me.

He keeps flipping through, each turn of a page causing the temperature in my face to rise. I can only imagine what he is reading. I guess I’ll find out tomorrow, in which I fully plan to finish the novel in one sitting. 

He snickers, “The amount of times it says ‘cock’ and “thrust” is concerning.”

“Okay, you’re done,” I snatch the book from him and tuck it safely behind my back. He scoffs, but his expression is victorious.

“I am thoroughly mortified, happy now?” I will my heart to slow and the heat to drain from my face. 

He reaches back and scratches the back of his head, an arrogant smirk plastered on his face. 

“Before you have to ask, I choose dare.”

“How brave,” I retort sarcastically, “Open your camera roll and show me your latest picture.”

He scoffs and unlocks his phone, searching for his photo app. “Easy. Think of a harder one next time.”

He quickly turns his phone to me and it is an effort to keep my face straight.

It is a picture he must have just taken at the gym earlier that day. It is him and Kirishima in the mirror. Shirtless, I might add. Was I drooling? I felt like I may have been drooling. They are both sweaty and the reflection in the mirror shows a weight room full of barbells and other men, but my eyes are fixed on the very attractive blond. Bakugou’s face holds a cocky smirk and he flexes his large bicep while his other hand holds his phone. The stretch of his lifted arm pulls at his ribs and abdomen, causing the skin to stretch taunt on his muscles. Defined hills and valleys of muscle clear as day. It is really quite impressive. And hot. I turn to him and poke his bicep.

“I’m impressed. They feel as real as they look.”

Woah, what am I thinking? I was trying to sound sarcastic but it came out very obnoxiously flirty. Why am I acting like a 16 year old flirting with her Prom date? Shit. I definitely overstepped. And just as things were getting easier. 

The realization of me touching him dawns on me quickly. I pull back my hand from him, embarrassment flooding me. Tenfold. 

His face is void but I can’t help but notice his pink cheeks. He takes his phone back and yawns quietly, breaking the suffocating silence.

“That’s my queue,” I stood abruptly to flee the scene, “I’m going to bed. Goodnight!”

He nods and stands along with me, we walk down the hall in silence. I am not expecting him to say anything else to me, but before he enters his room he mumbles, “Thanks for the food.”

I smile and enter my room, quickly closing the door behind me as I cover my face with my hands. Good hell, what was that? Why was I acting that way with him? Even worse, why is it that I am starting to realize he is actually tolerable. In addition, extremely attractive. 

My roommate was hot. Very hot. 

This would not be good for me. 

Chapter 3: get in loser, we're going shopping

“I’ll drive.” Bakugou says, grabbing his keys. 

I am laying on the couch and just finished the chapter I was reading when he exits his room. He had returned from class a little bit ago, took a shower, and got dressed quickly. 

“Okay, give me a sec.” I quickly shut my book and toss it on the cushion next to me. I walk to the entryway and slip on my shoes. 

“Did you just shut your book without a bookmark?” I hear him huff.

“Yup.” I grab my purse off the kitchen counter.

“That’s stupid.” he says bluntly.

“I remember my page. It’s fine.” I am surprised that he noticed such a thing, I’m not sure why it bothered him. 

He rolls his eyes and opens the door, pushing through and not bothering to wait for me to lock it before walking away.

When we get to his car, I am a little bit speechless.

He drives a black Porsche.

How can he afford a Porsche as a college student?

I cautiously open the passenger door and get in. I’m terrified to touch anything. It’s spotless, no dust, empty water bottles, or receipts like my car. When he starts the engine, his bluetooth automatically starts playing his music. The loud speakers blast a loud, metal song I am familiar with. He goes to turn it off, but I stop him.

“Wait! I like this song!”

He raises an eyebrow. “ You listen to this stuff?” He says in a very judgy tone as he looks me up and down. 

“Yes, I do. Turn it up please.” I reach back to put on my seatbelt. He removes his hand from the volume button and places it on the steering wheel. He shakes his head and mumbles, “Whatever.”

+++

We got to the grocery store shortly after. Not many words were shared during the drive, which was okay with me. I hated to admit it, but his taste in music was excellent. The silence in his car was comfortably filled with loud music. I was far too prideful to admit he had good taste, so I just stared out the window, resisting the urge to sing along.

He grabs the cart and starts pushing it to the snack aisle. I follow behind him as he leads the way. 

“Are you allergic to anything?” I ask from behind him.

Without looking at me, he replies, “No. Are you?”

“Nope.”

“Thank God. Allergies are for weaklings.”

“I don’t think anaphylaxis makes you weak considering it's something you can’t control.”

He shrugs and I just roll my eyes at him. I can’t see his expression because I am still behind him. I can only see his back. Today he is wearing a black tank top and sweats with our school’s name down the left leg. To be honest, his bare shoulders are nice to look at. I accepted the fact that he was attractive. Now that I am forced to be in his proximity, I am not going to complain about the view. 

We both grab miscellaneous snacks as we walk through the aisles. I notice his choices are all fairly healthy. I, on the other hand, have a few bags of chips and sour candy in the basket. 

“What do you want for dinner?” He asks out of the blue.

“Uhm, not sure, do you have something in mind?”

The question hits me as I realize the older couple in front of us is probably having the same conversation. It is so domestic, the discussion of creating a shared meal. One that is prepared in our kitchen, eaten at our table, on our plates.

This whole time, Bakugou was just a man I knew from a distance. I had maybe had a handful of interactions with him before yesterday. And now I am required to live with him to graduate Uni. I’m not sure I will ever get used to this situation. 

“Do you like ramen?”

“Oh, yes! The chicken flavor is my favorite.”

“I am absolutely not making instant ramen. I meant real ramen.” He says gruffly. He grabs a pack of eggs out of the fridge and places it in our cart.

“Oh, I’ve only had the kind you buy when you’re a broke college student.” I laugh to myself.

“Well that’s what I’m making tonight. The real kind.” He pushes the cart further and grabs some green onions from the fresh vegetables section. 

I follow behind him still and observe as he shops. He meticulously finds his ingredients and browses. I watch as his brain works to find what he needs. It is definitely not what I thought a grocery trip with him would be like. His grouchy self seems different. Intensely focused on his task.

“Do you like cooking?”

He hums under his breath as he bends down to read the label on something on the shelf. I take that as a yes.

“Who taught you?”

“My dad.”

“Oh, that’s cool!”

“Yup.”

Nice talk. I don’t know why I try to converse with him. 

I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn around quickly. 

“Ochako! Hi!” I hug the brown haired girl tightly. Though I am not as close to her as I am to Momo, I love her warm energy and smile. She is a good friend. 

“I thought that was you! Oh, hi Bakugou!” she smiles cheerfully, looking around me at him.

He mumbles something, not bothering to look away from the shelf to greet her.

“How are things? How is living with Denki?”

“Oh it’s good! He’s in class now. I was just buying some things for our place.” She motions to her basket. “What about you? Are you two getting settled in?” 

“Oh, uhm, yeah! Just grocery shopping.” I answer awkwardly, knowing Bakugou isn’t going to pitch in a reply. 

“Well, have fun! Maybe I’ll see you guys soon. Denki and I were thinking of throwing a party for everyone, you two better be there!” She says with a wave. I wave goodbye and she leaves us alone again. 

“A party will be fun, don’t you think?” I ask Bakugou now that we are alone.

“Hard pass.” His eyebrows furrow into a scowl as he bends down, still scanning the shelf.

“You’re such a grump.” I glare.

“Shut up.” He says, still not looking at me. He turns, pushing the cart away. I have to rush to catch up to him.

+++

When we get home, I take the groceries to the fridge and put them away. Bakugou plops himself on the couch and turns on the TV. 

“What are you going to watch?” I ask as I close the fridge door.

He shrugs his shoulders and keeps flipping through channels.

“Can I join you?” I walk to the far side of the couch.

He side-eyes me. “Whatever,” he mumbles under his breath. 

It is 2 PM. We still have a few hours until we would be hungry enough to eat. I am all caught up on homework and don't have anything else to do. Plus, I just finished the show I was watching and am in desperate need of a new one.

He flips through Crunchyroll. I had logged into my account yesterday and made a profile for him. Again, so domestic. Sharing a streaming service is equivalent to 2nd base in my opinion. 

“Would you want to start a show together?” I ask as I lie down and prop my head on a throw pillow. 

He scoffs, “Why would we do that?” 

Ugh. He is impossible. “We’re being forced to live together, we might as well have something to entertain us.”

“Fine,” he rolls his eyes and looks at me. He points to himself with the remote in his hand, “But I’m choosing it.”

“That’s fine by me.” I say, settling in and making myself comfortable.

He chose a Shonen I haven’t seen yet but heard of. The main character is the usual “zero-to-hero” teenage boy. I can see why it is so popular. Only 2 episodes in and I am hooked. But, 3 PM rolls around. That is the absolute hardest time of day for me to try and stay awake. I watch the TV, the catchy opening playing loudly, but my eyes progressively get more and more difficult to keep open. Each blink lasts longer and longer. Before I know it, I am asleep.

+++

I slowly blink as I come to my senses. I reorient myself to my new living room. I still am not used to the place. The room is dim, but a lamp glows in the corner, warm yellow light filling the space. The smell is what brings me to my senses the quickest. I yawn and search for my phone. I find it hidden under the blanket covering my body. 

Wait, when did I grab a blanket? I left it on the side of the couch closest to Bakugou and furthest from me when I was reading today. 

I open my phone and it shows 6:34 PM. I have a few missed emails, mostly from Bath & Body Works and other annoying companies that somehow have my email. I also have a text from Momo and a Duolingo reminder. Nothing crazy.

“Shit,” I whisper to myself as I sit up. I didn't mean to sleep that long. 

I spot the source of the delicious smell. Bakugou is in the kitchen chopping something while the pot next to him boils softly. 

“Here, let me help.” I say in between yawns. I sit up quickly and throw the blanket off of me. I am still confused how it got on me in the first place.

“I don’t need any help, I’m almost done.” He says flatly.

“I can at least set the table.”

I grab the bowls and chopsticks we bought today at the store. 

“Give me those.” Bakugou said, pointing to the bowls in my hand.

I hand them to him and watch as he masterfully fills them with noodles and broth. He adds meat, green onions, and some perfectly soft-boiled eggs to top them. The smell is divine.

He grabs them both and places them on the table. I quickly grab my phone and take a picture. I notice his raised eyebrow, judging.

“What? Phone eats first.”

He rolls his eyes, “Just eat before it gets cold.”

I shake my head and sit across from him at our small table. I take a bite and moan, “I think this is the best thing I’ve ever had!” The noodles are steaming and the savory broth warms me from the inside out. I take another bite, sipping the hot broth from my spoon. “This is amazing, Bakugou!”

I glance at him. He says nothing but I notice his cheeks are tinted pink. Maybe it’s from standing over a hot stove for so long. He doesn’t look up, busying himself with his own food.

“Really, thank you.” I say sincerely between bites.

“It’s not a big deal.” He finally says. No smile or sign of appreciation, yet the pink on his cheeks is still there. Is he blushing? Is he embarrassed? I can not tell. Maybe he’s not used to praise, or he just really likes it. 

We eat the rest of the meal in content silence, both of us too caught up in our food to worry about conversation. 

“Please make this again,” I say as I finish my bowl and drink the rest of the broth.

“Only if you do the dishes,” he mumbles, finishing his bowl soon after. 

I stand and grab both of our empty dishes. “Deal!” I place them in the sink. I pull out my phone to play some music as I clean.

A beabadoobee song thrums softly through my speaker. I gather the remaining dishes that he used to prepare the meal. I hum as I turn on the hot water and cover my sponge with soap. I am still blown away by how good dinner was. If he cooks like that every meal, I will be a happy woman. 

He sits at the table still, scrolling on his phone and typing something. He then stood up and announced, “I’m going to play video games with Kirishima." He turns toward his room and walks away. I guess that’s his way of saying goodbye.

“Thanks again for dinner!” I shout as he walks away. No reply, just the sound of his room door opening and shutting. I’m not surprised. It’s expected. Still, the thought of him actually going out of his way to make food for both of us is oddly… kind. Kind is not a word I would usually use to describe Katsuki Bakugou. Maybe this roommate thing won’t be so bad after all. 

That doesn’t discredit the fact he is antagonistic and belligerent, but he may just be slightly more tolerable than I realized. 

I finish the dishes quickly and put them away. The cozy atmosphere of our living room is inviting. I have hours left in my night, and the warm, soft lighting is perfect to read my book. 

I curl up on the couch, grabbing my blanket and my novel that is making its temporary home on the coffee table. As I open the book to the page I left off on, my peace is quickly disturbed.

“SON OF A BITCH!”

The walls practically rattle from Bakugou’s yelling. 

“Shut the fuck up, Red!” I hear him yell. 

I quickly slam the book shut. I instantly take back everything I mentally said about this roommate thing being tolerable. 

I wait a few more minutes until I’m sure he is done raging.

“MOVE YOUR ASS!” He shouts.

Yep, that’s it. I hop off the couch and stomp to his door, knocking loud.

A few seconds later the door flies open. Bakugou’s light hair is spiky and wild. Pieces brush his forehead and his furrowed brows. His eyes are dark and glaring. His headset is around his neck and I can hear someone incoherently through the speakers. 

“What do you want?” He growls deeply.

“That,” I motion to his gaming console and monitor, “Is not gonna work.” I cross my arms.

“The hell are you talking about?”

“Stop screaming and shouting at that stupid game, it’s annoying as fuck.”

“You’re such a spoiled little princess, get over yourself,” he tries to close the door in my face but I catch it with my hand before he can.

I gape at him, “Excuse me?”

“I think you heard me.”

“You’re awful, you know that?” I sneer at him. What an ass.

“Whatever.” He slams the door shut in my face.

I want to scream. I’m furious. After everything that happened earlier today, I was sure things were looking up. Now I know that I was a fool to believe he had an ounce of human decency in his body.

Chapter 4: and he comes crawling back... literally

The trainer’s room is stuffy today. The August heat has the air conditioning in overdrive as it buzzes from the vents. The warmth in the air mixed with sweat from athletes is not exactly enjoyable. Yet, it’s exactly where I want to be right now.

After Bakugou and I’s argument, I stomped to bed. I was able to read the rest of my book, but I had to blast white noise through my headphones to drown out his shouts and frustrated groans. Video games have always been fun and I enjoy playing them. Last night, though, I wished they didn’t exist.

Bakugou was so fucking infuriating sometimes. The second I thought that he may be a decent guy, he showed me he really, really was not. He really only cares about himself. As soon as I was up this morning, I left the house without a word. He was still in his room, so I lucked out by avoiding any interactions. 

Maybe this is how I will survive the next two semesters. Avoidance and ignorance. 

Today, I’m assigned to help the athletic trainer who was with the football team. Yep, the football team that Bakugou is a part of. Surprisingly, I’m not too worried about seeing him. He somehow has remained practically injury free throughout most of his collegiate career. Sure, he has had some small strains and maybe a concussion, but he was a rare sight in the trainer room.

I am the only student trainer assigned to work today. The athletic trainer for the football team is out on the field with the players, so I have the room to myself. I have some 80’s rock on shuffle and am busying myself with restocking athletic tape when I hear some shouting outside of the open door. 

“Stop being stubborn, Bakugou!”

I recognize that voice. Eijirou Kirishima, the red haired friend.

I turn from where I stand in the supply closet and peak out into the training room. I see Eijirou and the trainer hauling Bakugou into the room. He is sweaty, his blond hair dark from sweat and sticking to his forehead. His face is a mix of pain and frustration.

“You idiots, I told you both I’m fine!” Bakugou shouts, yet I can hear a bite to his voice that suggests otherwise. 

The trainer turns to me, “Get some ice, would you?”

I quickly walk to our ice machine and grab one of the large bags that we fill with ice for injuries. After making a bag, I approach my very grouchy, very sweaty roommate. 

Eijirou and our head trainer help the limping Bakugou to the nearest table. He sits down begrudgingly. His football pants are still on, but his helmet and shoulder pads must have been left on the field. His white compression shirt is glued to his chest, his perspiration making the cloth nearly translucent. 

The head trainer, a middle aged gentleman named Mr. Jiichiro, kneels in front of Bakugou. He slowly unlaces his left shoe and Bakugou’s scowl quickly changes to a grimace when his shoe starts slowly being removed. It is easy to see even with socks on, his ankle is seriously swollen.

“What did you do?” I finally ask. In all honesty, I am still pissed at him after what happened last night, but inside I am still concerned for him. 

“Nothing!” He growls at me. He squirms on the table, scooting to the edge. He goes to place his feet on the ground, and before he can stand he groans loudly and flinches.

“Nice try, now sit back before you make things worse,” I command him. He huffs, but scoots back on the exam table so his foot is now propped up while he leans back on his palms.

“He was running a route and rolled his ankle when he tried to cut right,” Eijirou chimes in, probably realizing Bakugou isn’t going to answer me. 

I bend down to examine it closer as Mr. Jiichiro takes off his sock. His ankle is purple and blue, the joint swollen. 

“Put that ice on there, will ya?” Mr. Jiichiro says. 

I nod at the command and softly place the bag of ice on Bakugou’s left ankle as the older trainer stands to grab supplies. 

“ Fuuuuuck ,” Bakugou groans under his breath, running a hand through his hair and furrowing his brows. His eyes are screwed shut and his chest rises and falls in labored breaths. He is obviously trying to tough this one out, but he is hurting.

Mr. Jiichiro comes back quickly with a few wraps and hands them to me. 

“I trust you know what you’re doing?”

I nod and take the bandages from his hand.

“Good, I’m going to talk to your coach,” he says to Bakugou. He turns his attention to Eijirou. “You. Don’t let him run off.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you,” EIjirou nods as he replies. He is a good friend to care about Bakugou so much, especially when he is as stubborn as he is now. 

“Eijirou,” I say, “Could you lift his leg up for me while I wrap it?”

He nods and follows my instructions. I look up at Bakugou’s face. His eyes are still shut, beads of sweat litter his brow and jaw, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath. 

I show Eijirou how I need him to hold up his lower leg so I can get to his ankle. I start wrapping it in the stretchy cloth, making sure to take my time and be gentle.

“Is that okay?” I say to Bakugou, looking up at him. He grunts, but nods once, not making eye contact with me. He sits staring at his ankle.

I continue with my work, covering the swollen joint meticulously. I finish and lower his leg back down. I return the bag of ice to its place on top of the wrapping. 

“There,” I stand and stretch after being bent over for so long. “This isn’t for stability. It’s only for comfort and to help reduce the swelling, okay? You absolutely cannot walk on it.” I instruct as I walk away from them to return my unused supplies. 

I don’t bother to look back at him to see if he will respond, I know he won’t.

“Hey, thanks for the help,” Eijirou says to me. I knew him slightly better than I knew Bakugou. He was always kind to me and would talk to me in passing. I enjoy him much more than his blond friend. 

“It’s no problem,” I say sincerely, smiling at him. I turn to see that Mr. Jiichiro had come back to the room with the football team’s head coach.

“Sounds like things aren’t looking too hot, Dynamight,” the coach says. He is a tall man with blonde hair and blue eyes. I heard a rumor that his nickname when he played football was something bad ass like “All MIght”, but I am not sure if that is true or not. 

He continues, “Mr. Jiichiro called the doctor. They put in orders for some imaging of your ankle. Red, you think you can drive him down the road to the hospital?”

Eijirou nods.

“Okay, I’ll meet you both there then. Bakugou, take it easy.” He says, patting Bakugou on the shoulder. He just rolls his eyes and looks away, his brow furrowed. 

Mr. Jiichiro leaves the room with the coach, talking to him about what he thinks happened with Bakugou’s ankle and telling him the game plan for recovery.

“I gotta grab my keys, be right back!” Eijirou calls as he jogs out of the room.

That left Bakugou and I alone.

I don’t have much desire to speak with him after his childish behavior last night, but a part of me aches for him. He is UAU’s star running back. Football is important to him. I have heard through the grapevine that he plans to go pro, raving on and on about being “Number One” or something. This is his passion, and if he gets bad news at the hospital I’m not sure how he will react. 

I hear him exhale loudly and watch him fidget.

“Thanks,” he says under his breath.

It is barely audible, so quiet I can't tell if I am imagining it or not.

“Hmm?” I cock my head at him. Did I hear that right?

“I said thanks,” he mumbles, “It feels a little better, I guess.”

I raise a brow and cross my arms. He isn’t forgiven yet. “And here I thought all I was was a ‘spoiled princess’ who needed to ‘get over herself’. I guess I can do some things right.”

He scowls and grumbles, “Shut up.”

I huff out a laugh and roll my eyes. I walk closer to him. I can see little grass stains on his pants, bruises on his arms and shins, and the redness from exertion on his cheeks. His compression shirt leaves little to the imagination. I don’t have much to imagine though, after seeing him shirtless just a few days ago.

I blush at the memory.

My mind returns to his injury. I hope it isn’t anything serious. With any luck, it’ll be a simple sprain and he will be back on it in a few weeks. I look at his face, I can better read his expression now that I am closer to him. He remains staring at his ankle, now wrapped and covered in a half melted bag of ice. Worry is etched into the details. His jaw is clenched and his crimson eyes glued to his foot. 

My heart drops for him. Even though he’s an arrogant ass, no one deserves getting injured. If he didn’t get to finish his football season, I’m not sure what he would do. 

“Hey,” I say softly, interrupting the silence, “I’m sure everything will be fine.”

He looks up to me, the first time he has made eye contact with me today.

“You think so?”

His voice is low and dejected. The frustration and anger that he had earlier has now dissipated and reformed into somberance. 

I give him a small, sympathetic smile. An olive-branch. He doesn’t deserve my sarcasm or jeers right now. I am sure his mind is racing with a million “what-ifs”. 

I don’t know why, but I gently lift my hand and place it on his shoulder. The bare skin there is hot and a little sweaty. I let my thumb brush over the scattered freckles that dance at the top of his muscled shoulder. His chest rises in a deep breath. 

“I know so.” I say to him.

Our eyes meet. His dark, cherry colored eyes search mine, testing my resolve. Seeing if I am telling the truth or just telling him what he wants to hear. 

But I was being honest. If Bakugou is anything, he is strong. Both physically and mentally. Strong-willed, strong-headed, but strong nonetheless. 

Our stares hold for a few moments. It comes as a surprise, but my chest flutters under his gaze. I remember my hand still resting on his warm shoulder. I remove it abruptly and clear my throat, averting my gaze to try and pretend I am not flustered. 

“I’m back! Ready to go?”

Saved by the bell. Eijirou has his keys, swinging the lanyard in his hand as he enters the room again. 

I exchange numbers with Eijirou and ask him to tell me the news when they are done at the hospital. I am able to find a pair of crutches in the supply closet and help Bakugou to Eijirou’s car. Once he is safely inside, I stand outside the open passenger door. 

“I’ll bring him back to the apartment when we’re done, thanks again!” Eijirou leans over and says from the driver’s seat. 

“No problem,” I smile. I turn my attention to my roommate.

“I’ll see you at home,” I say to Bakugou, “Good luck.”

His eyes avert from mine as cheeks darken. He busies himself with putting on his seat belt. He shuts the door and I wave goodbye as they drive off.

I don’t realize it until now, but the words that left my mouth in farewell were fairly intimate, and a legion of butterflies fly around my insides as I think about my choice of words. 

The fluttering inside me turns to nerves as I walk back into the training room to clean up and go back to my place. Our place.

I pray everything will be okay for him as I await an update from Eijirou.

Chapter 5: cookies and sticky notes

Notes:

oooo do I smell some development perchance?

Eijirou Kirishima: Dr. said it’s a grade 2 ankle sprain, and scans showed no broken bones. Bringing him back now.

I smile at my phone. This is great news! On average, that is around a 4-6 week recovery window. He will be back on his feet in no time, literally. I send a thumbs-up back to Eijirou in response and set my phone back down on the kitchen counter. 

I have to put my nervous energy into something. My brain has been swimming around with too many worst-case-scenarios. I can’t relax enough to read or watch tv, so baking it is.

I hear the front door open as I am taking a sheet of cookies out of the oven. The rhythmic clanking of crutches on the ground tells me Bakugou is home. 

“Hey!” I call from just around the corner. I set down the hot pan and take off my oven mitts as I walk to meet them. 

Bakugou still wears a scowl on his face, but seems to be in better spirits. I can see he changed out of his pads and practice attire into some sweats and a beat up t-shirt. Eijirou is close behind him. Bakugou makes his way to the couch with the support of his crutches. The back of Bakugou's shirt reads “Kirishima”, so I’m guessing his friend gave him some clothes to borrow. How thoughtful.

“He’s still grouchy, tread lightly,” the red haired man whispers not-so-quietly to me.

“I can hear you,” Bakugou growls, plopping himself down and wincing as he turns, raising his leg up to rest on the cushions. 

I giggle as I make eye contact with Eijirou, sharing an amused grin together. 

“I’m glad you didn’t break anything,” I say, grabbing a few plates out of the cupboard. “Do you guys want cookies?”

“Oh, hell yeah!“ Eijirou says. I hand him a plate with a few chocolate chip cookies. He hums his thanks and sits at the table. I walk to the couch, handing a plate to Bakugou. He takes it silently but instantly takes a bite of one as I sit on the opposite end. 

“Bro, I might steal your roommate,” Eijirou says, his words muffled by the cookie he still chews on. “Mine doesn’t make cookies. She just listens to really loud music and plays her guitar at 2 AM.”

“Sucks to suck,” Bakugou says with a smug look.

“And yours is like a built-in doctor for you, she’ll have you fixed up just in time for the game against LOV, right?”

“One, I made no such promises. Two, I am not a doctor,” I say, defending myself. That’s a lot of pressure. Healing has everything to do with Bakugou and nothing to do with me.

Eijirou’s phone buzzes. He glances at it and stands.

“Well, I gotta go. Take care of yourself, bro,” he drops his plate off in the sink and turns to me, “And you, thanks for the cookies.”

“You’re welcome anytime!” I say with a smile and wave to him as he leaves. 

The door shuts and I turn back to Bakugou. He had finished his plate of cookies and set it on the coffee table. Adjusting himself on the couch so that he is lying down with his ankle propped up, he groans and shut his eyes.

I am still sitting on the opposite side of the L shaped sofa. “Want to watch our show?”

“Nah,” he yawns, nustling his head into a pillow, “I’m going to take a nap.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll go to my room then.”

Before I can move, he stops me. He opens his eyes and looks at me, “I mean, you can stay and watch something if you want.” He fidgets with the hem of his shirt, “It won’t bother me.”

“Alright,” I say, a small smile on my face.

I opt for one of my favorite shows and tuck my legs up under myself as I watch. I have the volume low so as to not disturb my roommate as he sleeps. About 30 minutes goes by and I glance toward him.

His chest rises and falls slowly as he breathes, his eyes shut and expression relaxed. I can hear the quiet sounds of his inhales and exhales, reverent and rhythmic. 

I don’t know why, but I keep staring at him. His strong, shaven jaw. His tousled blonde hair. Dark lashes that rest over his shut eyes. One hand is resting on his abdomen, his other behind his head. The shirt he had borrowed from Kirishima had ridden up, exposing a small sliver of skin between it and the sweats resting low on his hips.

He seems so… soft. A word I would never use to describe him. He looks so peaceful and relaxed. A warm feeling pools in my chest as I look him over. He is hot, everyone knows that. Ripped muscles, cocky grin, confident. Impossible to ignore. Sitting across from him now, witnessing him in his most vulnerable state, I come to a conclusion.

Not only is he hot, he is pretty. Beautiful even. 

But I can ever tell him that.

My phone lights up and I see a text from Momo.

MOMO <3: Wanna get food and a sweet treat? :)

Me: You read my mind, I’ll meet you at your place in 10.

I rise slowly so as to not disturb Bakugou. He has had a long day already, and it is only 1 PM. He needs the rest, plus his body needs to heal. I spot my blanket, the fluffy one I keep folded on the arm of the sofa. I abruptly remember waking up from my nap yesterday to it somehow on top of me. 

Regardless if it was Bakugou’s doing or not, I find myself reaching for the blanket. I open it up and gently lay it on him, making sure not to hit his foot. When the soft fabric covers his neck, he fidgets slightly but stays asleep. It is cute, this big, scary man wrapped in my fluffy pink and white blanket. I want to take a picture of it, but instead I tear my gaze from his serene face as I tiptoe to my room. 

I grab my things and before I leave, I jot down my phone number on a pink sticky note and write “Let me know if you need anything” below it. We live together, and haven’t even exchanged numbers. 

I tell myself this was strictly because I am concerned for his safety and want him to have a way of reaching me if he needs help. Definitely not so I can have an excuse to give him my number.

I set the sticky note next to his phone on the coffee table and step out of the apartment as silently as I could, casting one last glance at him as I shut the door.

Notes:

hi guys! I've been rapidly updating on here because I want you guys to get a taste of their developing friendship/attraction. Hopefully I didn't write anyone too ooc, in my head this 22 year old Katsuki is still blunt and cocky, but a little less mean.

you can find me on TikTok @sukunas_20_fingers_, I am happy to take suggestions! If there's a scene you're wanting, shoot me a dm and maybe I'll try to squeeze in it. As always, comments and kudos are much appreciated!

I'm going to try to update the story at LEAST every Wednesday, but it'll probably be more often than that. Luv u all :)

Chapter 6: girl talk, gatorade, and grey sheets

Notes:

contents:
- development
- deep talks
- tension hehehe

Momo and I sit in our favorite booth at Kamino's Cafe just two blocks from our apartments. We had walked there, though we regretted it about halfway in when we were scolded by the harsh, late summer sun. 

Light streams through the open windows. Soft music plays from a speaker in the back corner. The room is littered with students. Some drinking coffee while studying, others are cuddled up next to significant others or laughing with friends. 

I love this place. Momo and I have been coming here since freshman year at UAU. Green plants hang from the ceiling and occupy the window sills. There are a few bookshelves in the back littered with books anyone can borrow while they sip tea in a nook to themself. Next to that, there is a small staircase that leads upstairs. There they have large bean bags and couches with a projector. Often, the shop will rent the space if someone wants to host a small movie night. 

The place is cozy. I especially love the fairy lights and vinyl records scattered on the walls. Last but not least, the food is great.

I sip on my iced tea while Momo rambles on about her classes. I don’t fully understand her major, but graphic design seems interesting enough. She is telling me her big plans to move and work for a large marketing company. She already has her foot in the door after this summer's internship. I am happy for her. At least one of us knows where we are going after graduation. 

“Have you applied anywhere lately?” Momo says, switching the topic to me.

It’s like she can read my mind. 

“No, not really. It’s a little overwhelming," I worry my bottom lip between my teeth. "There are so many options. I get freaked out and then just push it out of my mind.” I say. I choose to stare out the window, watching a couple walk by towards campus. 

“You got to start somewhere,” she says to me, encouraging. 

I sigh and swirl my straw around my drink, praying the liquid will reveal my future.

I always knew what I wanted to do. I love exercise science and sports medicine. It is all I ever dream of, even since I was younger. I have known since high school that UAU was my destination. But from there? No idea. Do I want to travel around with a professional team as their trainer? Do I want to work for UAU? Work for another university? Do I want to teach, too? Am I even good enough for any of that?

These are the thoughts that keep me up at night, staring at the fan spinning on the ceiling. Indecision is my weakness. I fear making the wrong choice. Fear making a wrong move that will result in my unhappiness. 

The waitress interrupts my spiraling thoughts. She sets down our plates, presenting us with our matching sandwiches. We both thank her in unison and started eating.

“How’s living with Shouto going? Still great?” I change the subject.

“Mhm!” Momo replies while taking another bite. She chews and swallows before continuing.

“He’s pretty quiet and keeps to himself. But, he’s very organized and always picks up after himself.”

“That’s great!” I smile, truly happy for my friend.

“And you?”

I pause, reaching up to toy with the small necklace I was wearing.

“I guess it’s okay. Some days are better than others. Then again, we’re only on day three.” I reflect on the past few days. It is only Wednesday, so three days since moving into our apartment. I feel like so much has already happened. 

The first night we had the truth or dare game, plus accidentally seeing him half naked. Yesterday we had ramen and our spat about his video game rage, and today was the ankle incident. He has thoroughly annoyed me so far, but also I am seeing a side of him I wasn’t privy to before. It isn’t much, maybe a sliver, but parts of him shine through that I never would have imagined. 

Like, him making ramen for us while I slept on the couch. He could have easily woke me up, but he didn't. Plus him sneaking the blanket on top of me without me knowing. The raw emotions I saw today in the training room were uncharacteristic of himself. I wonder if there’s more under the surface, like a frozen lake waiting to be chipped away to reveal what’s beneath. 

I knew him at a surface level, The side of him that everyone else gets to see, as well. But with this proximity between us, will I get to know a different Bakugou?

My phone buzzes in my pocket.

UNKNOWN: Can you get me some Tylenol?

I pause, racking my brain until I realize it is probably the man I was just thinking about.

Me: Is this my roomie?

UNKNOWN: No, it’s Bakugou. 

Me: Weird… I could have sworn that was my roomie's name…

UNKNOWN: Idiot.

I snort and quickly click on his contact to save it.

Bakugou: So can you get me Tylenol or not?

Me: I think you’re missing a “please” in there somewhere. 

Bakugou: UGHHHH FINE PLEASE CAN YOU GET ME TYLENOL?!

Me: Well of course, roomie :)

I giggle as I type back and forth with him.

“Who’s got you smiling at a screen?”

I quickly look up to Momo, her dark eyes reading me. I flush, embarrassed and feeling like I am caught doing something wrong. 

“Oh, um, it was just Bakugou being an ass,” I defend quickly.

She raises an accusatory eyebrow. I roll my eyes, looking away from her. 

Bakugou: Is it too late to ask you to grab me a Gatorade?

Bakugou: Please…

Me: Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?

Me: Yes I will get you one.

I return my phone to my pocket. Momo doesn’t bring up the whole “texting Bakugou” thing again, and I am grateful. We pay our bills and split ways. She waves bye as she walks back to campus. I am lucky that the convenience store is just around the corner. I find all of Bakugou’s requests quickly and head back to the apartment soon after.

+++

I walk inside my apartment, kicking my shoes off by the door. I approach the couch, bag of medicine and drinks in hand. 

Bakugou is awake, head propped under his arm while he watches some other college’s football game on TV. He turns to look up at me. 

“For you,” I hand him the bag.

Thankless, he tears into the bag, taking out the Tylenol and swallowing two pills with a sip of Gatorade. I notice he still has my pink blanket on him, though it has been moved and now rests from his hips down. I stifle a smile. 

“How is your ankle?”

“Hurts like a bitch,” he growls.

“You probably need more ice,” I walk to our freezer and fill up a bag, making sure there is enough ice to cover his foot. I make my way back to him. “Here,”  I gingerly place it on top of the wrap. “You should elevate it more.”

“You’re acting like my mom,” he groans. 

“Just let me help, okay?”

He huffs a breath, defeated. I grab another throw pillow and softly raise his foot to place it underneath. He flinches.

“Sorry,” I wince, putting his foot back down on the stack of pillows. “Does that feel okay?”

“Yeah,” he groans from deep in his throat. He pauses then looks at me, his eyes locking with mine. His expression is conflicted.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, begrudgingly, “I guess I am lucky to have you as a roommate.”

Whatever I expected him to say, it wasn’t that. I smile, chest fluttering with warmth. Did he mean it?

“I’m happy to help, Bakugou,” I say sincerely, focusing on his dark eyes. 

“Katsuki.” He breaks our shared gaze and I see his jaw tick. He is now looking aimlessly at the wall and clears his throat, “You can, uhm, call me Katsuki… if you want…”

My heart stumbles. It surprises me, but his words slowly spread a warmth through me, creeping through my veins.

“I’m happy to help, Katsuki.”

I am not sure if it’s my imagination, but I swear his face flushes red. He fidgets, running a hand through his light hair.

“Doctor said I need to stay off of it for a while. That’ll suck,” he sighs, moving his hand down his face to massage his jaw. 

“Well, I’m here if you need me. It’ll be good experience for me anyways,” I say, then smile, “Maybe I can ask for extra credit.”

The tight line of his lips tilt slightly, giving me the closest thing I’ve seen to a real smile from him. Bakugou (correction, Katsuki) glances back at me. 

We share a look. It’s a silent, mutual understanding. A wordless agreement. It took us a few days and a sprained ankle, but we are going to do this whole “roommate thing”, and we are going to survive. 

He blinks, like he forgot what we were talking about. Remembering what he wanted to say, he clears his throat.

“I’m going to take a shower.” Sitting up slowly, he winces as he turns and lowered his legs to the floor. His crutches are next to him, and he uses them to help himself stand. He hesitates, staring at the floor. He then asks, “Do you think you could rewrap my ankle when I’m done?”

I grin, “Absolutely. Do you need any help?” 

Now he's looking at me. His eyebrow lifts. “In the shower?” 

I shake my head violently, flustered. My face grows warm. “Wait, no! Not like that! I mean… Do you want me to carry anything in there? Like, clothes or something?”

He gives me an amused expression, “Actually, that would be great.”

I let out a relieved breath. He makes his way to his room, and I follow behind. 

He pushes his door open. His room is fairly bare, given we just moved in three days ago. His comforter isn’t green like mine, but black. His sheets and pillow cases are a dark, heather gray. He has a stuffed Charizard on his shelf. It’s oddly fitting, given his explosive and fiery temperament, and also quite cute.

He has a gaming console and monitor on his desk and a red guitar on his wall. On his nightstand sits some miscellaneous things. His car keys. A pack of mint gum. A bottle of cologne. A silver chain. A picture of what looks to be him and his parents after a football game. It’s heartwarming, the fact he has pictures of his family on display.

“Could you carry these for me?”

He interrupts my curiousity. I turn and pick up the stack of clothes he made while my back was to him. I lead him to the bathroom and place them on the counter. 

I go to make my leave, “Just knock on the wall when you’re ready.”

He nods and I quickly shut the door behind me. As I enter my room, I hear the hiss of the shower turning on. I think of him trying to navigate the slippery shower on one foot. Poor guy. 

I scroll on my phone while I wait for him to finish. I hear the shower head turn off and some rustling. The door opens moments later, and I listen as he makes his way to his room. A few minutes later, there is a knock on the wall our headboards share. 

I let myself back into his room as he is drying his hair with his towel. His body wash smells good, like rain and something musky. He smells expensive. He rests on his bed, his foot propped up. 

I grab the wrap and lower myself to sit at the footnote his mattress. I start on my work. His skin is purple and the joint swollen, though it looks like it has decreased slightly from earlier, that’s good. 

“Why did you pick this as a major?” He asks abruptly.

I wrap the bandage around his ankle slowly, methodically.

“I’ve always loved science and medicine, and I also love sports. It was an easy choice.” I shrug, then one more round with the bandage, “I like helping people, too. It’s satisfying knowing that I did something good, ya know? Like somehow, I made someone’s day a little better.”

He nods, “That’s… cool.”

“And you? I guess I never even asked you what your major is.”

He sighs, rubbing his jaw. “Well, technically I’m a business major, but really I just want to go pro.”

“Do you have any professional teams watching you?”

“A few,” he says nonchalantly, like it isn't a major achievement. “I just hope this shit,” he motions to his ankle, “doesn’t ruin my chances.”

I finish the wrap and secure it in place, but remain seated on the edge of his bed. 

“I’m sure everything will be fine,” I say sincerely, I tilt my head, “You’re Katsuki Bakugou. You’re the best. Any team would be lucky to have you.”

His eyes widen a little as he pauses. His thoughts seem to stutter and he half whispers, “Really?”

“Really.”

And there it is, the first real smile I’ve seen on him. It is small, barely a grin. But it’s there. And it’s genuine. In the dim light of his room, surrounded by his scent and his things and his perfect face, I feel a tug deep in my stomach.

“You know,” he sighs, leaning back against his headboard with his hands behind his head. His biceps on full display make my brain buzz, “I wasn’t too fond of this assignment at first.”

I chuckle and run my hand on the soft fabric of his comforter, “You’re not alone.”

A smirk, then he continues. “But, I will say, I’m not too mad that I’m stuck with you.”

My hand stops in its tracks. My insides twist and my heart stutters in its cage within my ribs. 

I try to shake off his comment and ignore how flustered I am. Regardless, it was sweet of him to say. “I think that may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Nerd. Tell anyone and I’ll deny it.”

I giggle and we share a smile, “Well, I’m not terribly mad about it either.”

We sit in silence for a moment, somewhat uncomfortable yet peaceful. There is both a heaviness and a lightness to the room. A crushing weight lifts, but something else starts to settle. Something new and unexpected.

Comforting and terrifying all at once.

His scent and the dim light from his lamp are inviting. The silence slows time. His dark blanket is soft. Again, I left my fingertips relish in the fabric. I find myself wishing I could crawl under the comforter and drift to sleep. I think I must be really tired. 

I clear my throat, “Well, you’ve had a shit day. You should get some rest. Goodnight, Katsuki.”

“Goodnight,” he says softly, in a tone completely new to my ears. 

I leave the room, shutting the door on the way out and willing my heart to slow. I can hear the blood rushing in my ears. Feel it's rampant speed and strength as it thunders through.

What the fuck was happening?

Notes:

I was going to wait until Wednesday to post this, but I'm impatient and I gotta give the readers what they want!

As always, comments and kudos are much appreciated! You can find me on TikTok @sukunas_20_fingers_

New chapter coming soon...

Chapter 7: a cherry coke and a secret

Summary:

“How about now?”

“Hmm?” I hum, confused.

“Tonight.” He locks his sharp, scarlet gaze with mine. “You being happy. Was it real?”

Notes:

TW: mention of childhood trauma/verbally abusive parent

Two weeks goes by, and we start to form a rhythm. 

We eat separately in the mornings, but Bakugou makes dinner most nights. I wash the dishes. His crutches and bad ankle make cooking not ideal, but he makes it work. Sometimes I make dinner or I order delivery to ease the burden. I think he enjoys cooking, though. I try not to stare as I watch his face and methodical movements. Precise and purposeful. 

I offer to wash and fold his laundry, but he declines. I would do the same thing in his shoes, honestly. I wouldn’t want him to have to wash and fold my underwear. I cringe at the thought.

Still, I offer, knowing he will decline. 

When we need groceries, I drive to the store and do the shopping. My hand most always holds a list he write, his handwriting neat and masculine. I think it’s endearing that he writes a list instead of texting one to me. When I check out, I fold it up quickly and shove it into the pocket of my purse. 

Soon enough, we have a routine. We usually only see each other at night. He rises earlier than I do, almost always having an early morning workout or something for the football team. During the day I go to my classes and he goes to his. At night we will eat, sometimes together and sometimes alone, and retire to our rooms. Most of the time I come home to dinner already made, waiting for me in portioned containers in the fridge or hot on the stove.

He doesn’t have to make me dinner, so the fact that he does it by his own accord is oddly thoughtful. Only odd because it’s him. Someone who’s not necessarily known for being kind or thoughtful.

I push the door to my bedroom open, my backpack slipping down my shoulder as I drop it on the floor. It’s Friday night and I have a whole bunch of nothing planned.

I’m extroverted, I prefer the company of others. But tonight I have no obligations. Momo is spending the weekend with her parents while Mina and Ochaco are busy at a late night cheer practice. Kyouka is with Denki, no surprise there.

That leaves me alone. I’m not disappointed or anything. My mind races with my options. I could take an “everything” shower. Or read. Or call my siblings. Or doom scroll. 

It’s about 7 PM. Katsuki isn’t home, so I decide to do all of the above. I put my Bluetooth speaker in the bathroom and blast a new album I’ve been listening to on repeat. I hum to myself as I lather my hair and shave my legs. 

I pull up AO3 on my phone and read the newest chapter of my guilty pleasure fanfiction. I call my younger sister, forcing her to show me her baby, Macie. I fawn over her pink, chubby cheeks and big, round eyes. She cuts the call short, blaming it on the fact it was Macie’s bedtime.

My teenage brother doesn't answer when I call.

I’m well into my doom scroll, entranced by some random ASMR account on TikTok, when I hear the front door open and shut. Katsuki must be home. The click of crutches on the floor confirms my suspicions. 

My stomach growls, reminding me I never ate dinner. I hop out of bed, an idea forming. I exit my room and find him in the kitchen. The lights are off, only the glow from the fridge illuminating him.

“You hungry, too?” I ask.

He jumps slightly, “Shit, you scared me.”

I chuckle, “Sorry!” I glance at the time on the stove, a little after 10 PM.

He sighs, defeated, and shuts the fridge, “But yes, I’m starving.”

“Would you want to go get some food with me?”

He blinks once, “Is there even anything open at this time?”

I grin, “I know of a place.”

His mouth twitches, “What place?”

“It’s a surprise, dummy.”

His lips purse and his eyes narrow. 

“You’re paying,” he says.

I huff, triumphant, and he follows me out the door to my car.

+++

The night is cool, and I drive with my windows rolled down. My speakers thrum as the breeze ruffles my hair. Katsuki doesn’t say much, but he surprisingly doesn't complain about the wind.

I pull up to the restaurant, the neon lights illuminating the parking lot. There are a couple of cars scattered around, but it’s obviously not packed. 

The sign in the window flashes “OPEN 24/7” brightly. 

“Here we are,” I say as I shift my car into park and unbuckle myself.

He follows me inside and a hostess leads us to a table in the back corner.  Red and white leather booths. Linoleum checkered floors. Vintage Coca-Cola ads scatter the walls. Chrome and neon everywhere. We order quickly. It's not too hard to decide when they only serve burgers, pancakes, and shakes after 10. The teenage waitress takes our menus and returns with our drinks, Katsuki opts for water while I pick a Cherry Coke.

There’s a large section of the diner that has boxes upon boxes of records, anything from jazz, pop, rock, country, etc. Vinyls litter the walls, as well as posters of miscellaneous artists and bands like Frank Ocean, Led Zeppelin, and Blondie.

“What’s that for?” Katsuki asks, pointing with his chin at the abundance of records. He sits across from me, his grey hoodie loose on his body and his hands in his pockets.

“Browsing. Or buying. Whatever you choose,” I say, sipping from my soda. I pluck the maraschino cherry from the ice and plop it in my mouth, pulling the now tied stem from my teeth. 

“Want to look around while we wait for our food?”

“Sure,” he shrugs, and his crutches click while we make our way over.

“All the records are used, so there’s a player people can use before they buy,” I motion to the vintage player near us. He doesn’t verbally acknowledge me, but I see him glance at it. He starts digging through a box near the player, head bent as he reads each sleeve.

I leave him and start browsing myself. I don’t even own a record player, but I love collecting them and putting them on my shelf.

I didn’t have much growing up, and I still don’t have much. I told myself after graduating and getting my first job, a record player will be my reward to myself.

I look through albums in the “Newer Stuff” bin. I see Chappell Roan, Del Water Gap, Ethel Cain, and a Taylor Swift album I didn’t even know existed. 

A few minutes later, I’m reading the track list of “Currents” by Tame Impala when I hear a familiar sound behind me. The small scratch of a needle dropping on a vinyl. A static pause, then a sharp, familiar pattern of notes plucked from guitar strings fills my head. A tiny gasp escapes me and a smile forms on my lips. I turn abruptly to see Katsuki standing near the player, the album he chose spinning on the table. 

“Everybody Wants To Rule The World” by Tears for Fears dances through my ears. The speakers are loud, but not obnoxious, and it feels like the world stops spinning for a second as I watch him. He places the greyscale album to the side and keeps sorting through other albums in the “1980’s” section of the store. I stare at him unabashedly since his back is turned to me. His focus is turned downward as he scans and flips through the records, but my focus is on him. His sandy blond hair and broad shoulders. Muscles that can be seen through his baggy hoodie. Veiny hands. The air of confidence and mystery about him that pulls me in. 

Fuck. I don’t want to look away.

I approach him then, standing next to him as I start searching through the bin on his left. 

I nudge him with my elbow. “Good choice,” I say, “I love this song.”

He doesn’t look at me, but he replies quietly, “Me, too.”

We stand next to each other silently, each searching the adjacent bins and letting the song fill the silence. When the song ends and the next one starts, he lifts the needle and returns the vinyl to its sleeve delicately. Behind me, I hear someone trying to get my attention. I turn and see our waitress as she sets our food down at our table. The moment is over. 

“Ready to eat?” 

+++

A light rain taps on the window as we eat, the street outside turning dark and reflective. In turn, the street lights and neon signs from the diner make the world outside appear bright and colorful, even though the sun has long been set. One of the few other customers put a Fleetwood Mac vinyl in the record player. It plays quietly in the background, giving the restaurant a comforting, nostalgic ambiance. 

“I love the rain,” I sigh, taking a bite of my fluffy pancake off of my fork.

“I don’t,” Katsuki says bluntly, plucking a french fry from his plate.

“Are you allergic to whimsy and fun?” I retort.

His eyes widen, “‘Whimsy’ ?”

I giggle, “Alright, Mr. ‘I-Hate-Rain-And-Joy’, what else do you hate?”

He snorts, “You really want to know?”

“Yes!” My chin rests in my palm, my elbow on the table. My attention solely on him. 

He looks out the window, thinking.

“Losing. And crutches.”

I roll my eyes and mumble, “Of course.”

“You asked,” he takes a fry, dips it in his chocolate shake, and pops it in his mouth.

“That was my first mistake. Okay, how about this. What are some things you like?”

He chews on the inside of his cheek.

“Here, I’ll go first," I say.

I hold up five fingers on one hand, ticking them off as I speak. 

“I like cherry coke, vinyl records, cats, loud music, and the rain,” I say. I put my hand down, “Your turn!”

“You expect me to name five things?”

“I do. If you don’t, I’m leaving your ass here.”

“You wouldn’t,” he glares at me.

“I would, now proceed.”  

He groans and leans back, crossing his arms.

“Fine. Okay, I like winning…”

I roll my eyes.

“… cooking, going to the gym, playing football, and playing the drums. There, you happy?”

I pause and my brows raise. I knew the first couple of things, but his last comment surprised me.

“You play the drums?”

“Yep. Tell no one,” he sips his water, unfazed.

It’s still surprising. “I didn’t know that. What else do I not know about you?” I prod.

“Nope, you’re getting nothing more out of me,” he says defiantly.

“Damn, a lady buys you dinner and you won’t even entertain her questions?”

“Shut up.”

I giggle, “How about a secret for a secret?” 

He thinks over my proposition. I don’t wait for his response.

“I can’t whistle.”

“That’s hardly a secret.”

“Okay, well then it’s a fun fact. Your turn.”

He gives me a deadpan look, a pause, then he says, “I’ve never broken a bone.”

“I hate scary movies.”

“How can you hate scary movies?” He asks, incredulous.

“I hate being scared. Your turn.”

“Well, I actually love scary movies,” he says. 

“Do you have a favorite?” 

“No, not off the top of my head,” he scratches his jaw, “I’ll have to think on that.”

I smile, “Fair. Okay, I’m the oldest sibling of three. Oh, and I’m newly an aunt! Want to see her?”

Before he can say anything, I pull out my phone and show Katsuki a picture of Macie. She’s in a pink onesie and chewing on her foot. Adorable.

“Isn’t she a cute baby?” 

“She’s a baby, alright,” he says, flat and unimpressed.

I purse my lips, “You don’t think she’s cute?”

“Babies all look the same. Plus they just cry all the time. It’s annoying.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

This time, he grins. Obviously amused at my annoyance. His lips tilt in a smirk, red eyes focused on me.

“Okay, roomie.”

I pause, realizing what just escaped his mouth. I know it was sarcastic, meant more as an insult. Still, it warms my heart. The familiarity of it all. The fact he left the apartment with me when he could stayed in tonight, locked in his room away from my pestering. He chose to be here. To be with me when he could have done anything else. And it makes me so unexplainably happy. A smile breaks across my face.

“Are you always this way?” he asks out of nowhere.

I tilt my head, confused, “What way?”

“You know, happy.”

The question hits home in a way I didn’t expect.

“I mean, I try to be," I say slowly, tasting each word.

“But why do you have to try?”

Damn. Getting deep here. I frown, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I mean, how much of you is real and how much is for show?”

His crimson eyes read me like an open book. They search my face, seeing where my facade cracks and chips away from his brutally honest question.

I am real. I am happy. Well, most of the time.

I look down at my lap, “Well, usually it’s genuine. But…” I pause, then sigh, “I don’t know. I just feel like it’s my job to be the happy one.”

I play with the small pendant on my neck and glance out the window. The rain had stopped.

“Growing up, my mom was… a lot. Very emotional. Very angry and very sad. She took it out on all of us. As the oldest sister, I wanted so badly to protect my siblings. To be the one making sure everyone was okay. Making sure no one suspected a thing. Now, I just don’t let myself not be that way. By now, it’s muscle memory.”

He doesn’t answer. I see him from my periphery, staring. Studying.

I sigh, swallowing and blinking before a wave of tears could escape. I was doing so good until now. How did he break down my walls so fast? How did he completely read my soul, so raw and bare like I had handed it to him on a silver plate? 

“I’m sorry.” I finally hear him say from across the table. It’s quiet. Not pitiful, but straight forward. 

"Don't be," I plaster on a grin, praying it looked not forced, "I'm sorry to kill the mood. Didn't mean to get so deep."

His face is unreadable.

“Don't apologize. Never-”

He starts to say something else, but we're interrupted when the waitress stops and grabs our empty plates. We quickly thank her. Before I can hand her my card, Katsuki takes out of his wallet and puts his on the table.

“Next time,” is all he says.

I smile. And this time, it’s genuine.

He’s a lot of things. Quick tempered, stubborn, and conceited. But now in this moment, he’s someone who broke down my walls. The walls I have built and reinforced over many years. I told him something not even Momo knows. Something I kept locked up tight, but somehow he found the key.

We leave the diner and get into my car in a comfortable, content silence. As we buckle our seatbelts, he interrupts the quiet.

“How about now?”

“Hmm?” I hum, confused. 

“Tonight.” He locks his sharp, scarlet gaze with mine. “You being happy. Was it real?”

I grin. My heart swells. I feel something deep inside me. It’s small, but there’s a connection lingering here. Between Katsuki and I. I don’t know what it is exactly. But something along the lines of trust.

In the quiet comfort of my car, no sound save for the whooshing of cars passing on the road behind where we’re parked, I let the reality of it all settle.

Katsuki is someone I can trust. Someone I can be honest with. 

“It’s real.”

I conveniently left out the part that with him, it’s real, too.

Notes:

tell me what you guys think! I'm so proud of this chapter, it was my favorite to write!

Chapter 8: that's the thing about assumptions

Summary:

“Ah, yet another Bakugou fangirl.”

I turn and see a tall man next to me. Tan skin. Dark hair and eyes. His eyes crinkle at the edges from his lighthearted grin. Who is this guy?

“I most certainly am not,” I say defensively.

He chuckles, “I’m kidding. Unless you are his girlfriend or something.”

I shake my head violently, “Definitely not.”

Notes:

I think this is my longest chapter yet! Thank you all for reading. I LOVEEE all the comments and kudos. This chapter was so fun to write. I hope you all enjoy! Comment and/or check out my TikTok! @sukunas_20_fingers_

Until next time :)

It’s been over a month since Katsuki and I have moved in together. August passed quickly. Now, the air is starting to chill. Slightly. Not enough to be cold at night, but enough that I don’t melt in the sun. 

Our cohabitation class met today to review our first month of the project. Katsuki and I were paired together, obviously. The assignment was simple, write a two-page essay on the pros and cons of living with someone. Easy. Honestly, I did most of the assignment. Not that Katsuki is lazy by any means, but I’m a little more… wordy than him. It was basically a small recap of the last few weeks.

Pros: someone helping with meals, splitting costs, having someone to talk to.

Cons: personal space, privacy, clashing personalities, differing schedules.

Things have been… different… since we went to the diner together. Not better, not worse. Nothing significant has happened either. Katsuki is still as busy as ever, and I only see him occasionally. He’s been going to physical therapy every day after practice, and just recently they told him he’s good to go without crutches. His gait is steady but a little cautious. Sometimes when he gets home I can see him wince as he steps. 

Things just seem easier. More organic. We hardly see each other, and I find myself wanting him around. Weird, how you can get so used to someone’s presence. The pattern of their gait. The hum of their voice. The smell of their things.

The few times I’ve seen him, he’s asked me about my day, or even watched an episode or two of our show with me. We are making very slow progress through One Punch Man.

Dare I say, am I starting to enjoy this whole ordeal?

I walk through campus with my book bag slung over one shoulder, earbud in one ear playing a new song I haven’t heard yet. The leaves are still green, as well as the grass. But I notice the change in the air. The summer months are slipping away and the season enters into early fall. There are blankets strewn across the lawn, sprinkled with students typing on laptops or hanging out with friends. Now that the weather is nicer, it’s more common for students to be outside instead of seeking refuge in air conditioned rooms.

It’s impossible to miss the bright banners that are hanging from the light poles that line the sidewalks across campus. All of them showing enlarged words and the date of the homecoming football game. It happens to be on Halloween. Different banners have different players on them. I quickly recognize Izuku, Denki, Tenya, Sero, and Eijirou. As I approach my favorite café on campus, Kamino's, something catches my eye. 

It’s his banner. Katsuki’s. A few freshmen girls are ahead of me on the sidewalk. One of them stops and takes a picture of it, giggling wildly with her friends before they scurry away.

Something about it sours my mood. I shake my head. It’s nothing.

But when I get closer, I see it clearly. I see him posing in his jersey with the number 1 on it. His broad shoulders and chest are wrapped tightly in the jersey. His face is a little cocky. What strikes me the most is his wide, smug smile. I don't think I've ever seen him smile like that. His white teeth and sharp canines flash brightly. He’s holding the football with one hand and flexing his bicep with the other arm. 

His veins are evident on his toned arms. His eyes are dark and engulfing—a deep wine color. His hair pale and sandy; tousled and irritatingly perfect.

I smile to myself. He looks handsome. Unfairly so. 

I pull out my phone to take a picture of it, fully planning on sending it to him to tease him.

Before I can send the text, a voice interrupts me.

“Ah, yet another Bakugou fangirl.”

I turn and see a tall man next to me. Tan skin. Dark hair and eyes. His eyes crinkle at the edges from his lighthearted grin. Who is this guy?

“I most certainly am not,” I say defensively.

He chuckles, “I’m kidding. Unless you are his girlfriend or something.”

I shake my head violently, “Definitely not.”

He studies me, his grin growing. It’s crooked, and just shy of charming. “Anyone’s girlfriend?”

Damn, he’s bold. 

“No one’s girlfriend, in fact.” Probably a mistake on my end. 

“Good,” he reaches out a hand to shake mine, “I’m Shindou.”

I shake it quickly and introduce myself.

“Do you go here?” I find myself asking, fidgeting with my book bag.

“I do, I’m a senior. Just transferred.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” I say politely. “Why the switch to UAU?”

He shrugs, nonchalant. “I got a good offer from the baseball team. Couldn’t turn it down. Covers more of my tuition than my last school.”

“That’s cool. Maybe I’ll see you around then,” I say, turning to leave.

“Wait,” he stops me, he reaches up and scratches the back of his neck, “Before you go, I was just looking for a place to eat. Think you can help me?”

I point to the cafe, my cafe. Just a few yards away. “Kamino’s is great.”

“Thanks for the recommendation. Let me buy you lunch.”

My eyes widen. Again with the boldness. His hands loop around the straps of his backpack.

“Why?” 

“I want to get to know you, is that so wrong?” He cocks his head, awaiting my response.

“I met you about five seconds ago. How do I know you’re not going to drug me and chop me up?” I say with a raised brow.

He shrugs, smug, “How do I know you won’t do the same thing?”

I eye him suspiciously. He’s cute enough. Athletic looking. Dimples. Straight teeth. 

“Fine,” I say, fighting a grin. I'm a little unsure why I agreed.

“Excellent.”

 

+++

 

I follow him inside and let him choose a table. He picks a booth not too far from the door. The waitress drops off menus and waters. I sip mine earnestly.

“So, um, what’s your major?” I ask, falling into the trap of small talk.

He unwraps his straw, dropping it into his cup. He leans back, “Engineering, you?”

“Sports medicine,” I reply.

“Bad ass,” he says, “Will I see you at any of the games?”

“Probably, I get assigned different games to help with each week, so there’s a chance.”

He grins, “Good.”

I smile but I don’t reply. The waitress comes and takes our orders. Small talk ensues.

Kamino’s cafe is comfortable—per usual. The air is cool, much cooler than outside. At this time of day, it’s practically empty. There are a few students in the corner looking at books, and I can hear a movie playing upstairs on the projector. The sound is muffled, barely audible.

Shindou and I talk about everything and nothing. How we like college. Our favorite shows and songs. The dreaded What’re your plans after graduation? gets brought up. Thankfully, he doesn’t pry when I shrug, but the inquiry dampens my mood.

He’s nice enough. Usually would be my type. Flirty, tall, and confident. But something about him makes me not super interested. I can't put my finger on it.

After a few minutes of light conversation, the bell on the door chimes, announcing someone has entered. I see Eijirou and Katsuki walk in. Eijirou notices me first, red hair ablaze. I grin and wave, beckoning them over. 

“Hi!” Eijirou says to me. He’s all sharp teeth and smiles. Katsuki is close behind, but not wearing a smile like his friend. I’m happy to see him. Maybe these two can join us and save me from this… well, whatever this is. 

Katsuki doesn’t say anything, but his face is irritated. I wonder why.

“Shindou, this is Kirishima and Bakugou. You guys, this is Shindou.” I say.

Eijirou introduces himself, the extroverted redhead quickly sparking up a conversation. I tune them out and look at my roommate. Katsuki is looking anywhere but at me. His posture is stiff and uncomfortable. Jawline tight and tense, saying plenty about his mood. I study him silenty, wondering why he’s acting so distant. I mean, we live together. He can at least acknowledge me. 

I try to catch his eye, but he doesn’t look. He just looks out the window—indifferent. As if something outside is much more interesting than us. 

I jump into Eijirou and Shindou’s conversation, hoping to catch Katsuki’s attention. “Do you guys want to join us?” I ask, hoping they will.

“We have a pick up order. Maybe next time though.” Eijirou says. He says bye and turns to leave, Katsuki following behind. Wordless. 

“Alright, see you guys later!” I say, trying my best to be cheerful. 

Why won’t he acknowledge me?

I watch as Katsuki’s shoulders tense. He doesn’t look at me. I feel my spirit get stomped on. Then…

“See you at home,” Katsuki says under his breath as he leaves, the first thing he’s said this whole time.

It’s heedless and offhanded. Painfully casual. 

Yet my heart stalls, then restarts. I stare as he walks away.

Once they're gone, Shindou’s face is utterly confused. “Home? Are you sure you aren’t his girlfriend?”

I snort and avert my gaze from his, watching Katsuki out the window as he leaves with Eijirou, “Yes I am sure. We’re just roommates.”

Shindou’s brow raises, but he doesn’t ask anything else.

Our food is dropped off soon after. We eat quickly and talk about more mundane things. College life. Sports. The weather.  

Riveting.

He pays for both of our meals. Chivalry isn’t dead, I guess. 

“Could I have your number?” Shindou asks as we exit the cafe. We’re standing outside now, facing each other on the sidewalk. Again, bold.

“Sure,” I shrug, and hand him my phone. I'm too nice to say no. Plus he's new here, maybe he needs a friend.

He texts himself from my phone and hands it back. He says with a smile, “I gotta go. We should do this again sometime.”

I wave bye as he leaves. My feet are stuck where I stand, watching him walk away. I’m not sure how I feel.

Usually I would be all about meeting new people. Especially a cute guy. I can’t put my finger on it, but I am hesitant. He’s obviously interested in me, but I can’t say I feel the same.

As I watch hime leave, I can’t recall a thing from lunch. Save for Katsuki’s appearance. I can’t seem to get him out of my head. 

Now I can’t get him out of my sight, either. I see Katsuki’s poster again. His pretty but masculine face. It reminds me of what I was going to do earlier. My phone is still in my hand, so I quickly send the picture I had taken earlier to him. 

Me: *photo message*

Me: Weird, this guy kind of looks like my roommate…

I giggle to myself as I walk down the sidewalk towards my apartment. My phone buzzes.

Bakugou: Funny.

While I’m grinning at my phone, I quickly change that photo to his contact picture. While I’m at it, I change his contact name, too.

Me: I AM funny. Thx :)

Katsuki #1: Damn nerd.

I smile at my phone. Funny, how his text makes my heart flutter. I will it to slow.

No need to be smiling over two-word texts from Katsuki Bakugou.

 

+++ 

 

After parting ways with Shindou, I venture on various errands. I don’t even think about him the rest of the day. Which is surprising.

Shouldn’t I be twitterpated? The new, cute guy on campus is blatantly interested in me. Like, this is a momentous occasion, right?

Wrong. I couldn’t care less.

And I don’t know why, so I don’t dwell on it.

I proceed with my errands. I get my nails done by Mina, who runs a secret nail salon out of her and Izuku’s apartment. There's some stipulation with our UAU-funded apartments about running a business on college property, so it’s all hush-hush.

I admire my new nails as I walk to the library. They're short, petite in shape. A soft, ivory color. Classically feminine. I have to keep my nails short for my major. It proves to be nearly impossible to tear tape or use some of our equipment with long acrylics. While I'm out and about, I return a textbook to the library, and decide to stick around and browse. 

I skim the aisles of the campus library, trying to see if there are any books I should check out. Honestly, I need to just finish the one sitting on my coffee table, but I’m so close to finishing it that I need to be prepared with something new.

It’s the last book in a long, romantasy series (romance + fantasy for those who don’t know). I need a palate cleanser—AKA smut. Maybe I'll try a sports romance this time.

As I browse, I see a girl with a head of choppy, obsidian hair down the aisle from me. 

“Hey, Kyouka!” I whisper loudly. We are in a library.

Nothing. Her headphones rest over her heavily pierced ears. She looks straight out of a “Punk Rock Princess” Pinterest board. Fishnets under a frayed, black skirt. Heavy Doc Martens. A cropped Spiritbox tee paired with a choker and some other thrifted jewelry. Chipped black nails and septum piercing. Heavy eyeliner and a wolf cut. 

Damn, she’s so cool. 

"Kyouka! ” I say, slightly louder. I approach her now and she notices me from her periphery. She tears her headphones off, letting them rest around her neck. 

“Oh, hey!” She says. She brings me in for a tight hug. Her appearance is very “porcupine-esque”, causing many people to be intimidated by her. I am lucky enough to be one of the few who know her warm and inviting self. 

“I’ve missed you!” I say, breath returning to my lungs after her tight squeeze. 

“You, too! How’s life?” She says, smacking her gum loudly. I can hear the bass beating from her headphones on her neck. 

“Painfully uneventful.” 

She snorts, “Same.“

Her eyes light up like she is remembering something. “Denki’s party is this weekend, you’re going right?”

I almost forgot, Ochako and Denki’s party! The one Ochako had told me about at the beginning of the semester. That was over a month ago. I’m not too surprised though, they are both master procrastinators. 

“Oh yes, I’ll be there!”

She smiles, “Good.”

“Is it weird?” I start, “You know, Denki living with another girl?”

Kyouka shrugs, unfazed, “Not really. It helps that it’s Ochako. I mean, she’s so easy going. And practically an angel.”

Kyouka shelves the book she was looking at, “Plus, I’m not the jealous type.”

I’m impressed at how secure Kyouka and Denki are in their relationship. They’ve been adorable since I first met them. I didn’t meet them until freshman year here at UAU, but Momo told me Kyouka and Denki have been dating since they were seventeen. They complement each other well. 

“I just feel bad for you,” she says to me before I can reply, pulling me from my thoughts.

I tilt my head, asking a wordless What do you mean?

“Living with Bakugou. I mean, he’s the worst.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I say, oddly defensive. Now it’s her turn to look confused.

I glance away, “He’s actually not bad.”

Her face is pure disbelief. Mouth open, eyebrows raised. “You’re shitting me.”

I giggle, “I’m not!”

“Did he pay you to say that?”

I shake my head, “I’m serious!” My hand finds the spine of a book, my fingers tracing the letters as I think of Katsuki. “He’s clean. He cooks. He doesn’t leave dirty clothes around. Plus, he’s actually pretty fun to talk to.”

“Fun? Are you hearing yourself?” She looks like she may have a stroke any second. 

“Yeah yeah, I know what I said,” I roll my eyes, feigning irritation at my friend.

She pulls a new book off the shelf, scanning the back briefly, “Whatever you say.”

She obviously doesn’t believe me. And I’m a little bit irritated. I mean, she’s my friend. I love her to pieces. But she struck a nerve I didn’t know I possessed when she doubted Katsuki.

But, wasn’t I the same way a couple weeks ago? Believing that living with him would be an actual hell?

We change the subject and talk of other things; her music career, her next show, etc. We leave each other on a good note and I decide to go home.

 

+++

 

I kick off my shoes as I enter the apartment. A fragrant scent hits me in the face. And it’s delightful. 

I step inside further to the kitchen. Something is bubbling on the stove and Katsuki is over the counter, chopping something. It’s new, seeing him without crutches. Quite literally standing on his own two feet.

His posture is immaculate as always— Spine straight, shoulders pushed back. Confident. It's kind of hot.

“Hey,” I say casually, “That smells amazing.”

 I open the fridge, grabbing a cold water bottle.

“Thanks,” he says. It’s a little terse, but I am not too bothered. I mean, it’s Katsuki. A man of few words.

“How was your day?” I ask, walking over and hopping on the counter behind him, letting my feet dangle off the ground. The countertop is cool under my thighs and palms. 

He shrugs, back still to me, “Fine.” 

Weird. I sip on my water and watch him work.

“Mine was good, too. Thanks for asking,” I joke, sarcasm thick on my tongue. 

“I’m sure it was,” he snaps.

That gives me pause. “Did something happen?” I ask, tone softer and less bubbly than before.

“No.” Blunt. Dismissive.

"Um, okay." A stiff pause, "Well, how was lunch with Eijirou?"

He gives an unamused snort, "Fine, how was your date with Shindou?" Katsuki says his name like the word itself tastes badly.

I let out a self-deprecating laugh, "Oh, it was definitely not a date."

"Looked like it." He snaps.

My tone is mischievous when I tease, "Why? You jealous?" I draw the word out, prolonging the sss on the end.

"Hell no." 

I giggle. He’s still refusing to look at me. 

I pry, “Katsuki, why are you sulking?”

He mumbles, “I’m not sulking, I’m cooking.”

I hop off of the counter, letting myself drift toward him. He’s chopping diligently, meticulously. Very obviously avoiding my presence. 

“Need help?” I ask, so close to his side we’re almost touching.

He tenses, but continues his task, scooping the chopped onions and carrots into whatever was simmering on the pot. 

“Nope.”

I can feel the tension in the air, shifting from lighthearted teasing to awkwardness. I try to shrug it off.

“Um, okay,” I say, my voice small. I hate when he gets this way. Closed off. Walls up and windows locked.

“Are you alright?” I reach up, slowly, letting my fingers touch his shoulder. Reassuring him I mean no harm. 

His muscles tense under my touch, and I immediately remove my hand like his shoulder is a hot iron.

“Positive,” he growls. 

I recoil, my feelings bruised from his blatant retort. “Okay, fine then.” 

I take the opportunity to excuse myself and start to walk away. He stops me before I leave the kitchen and can escape to my room. 

“Don’t waste your time with him,” he says on my way out. 

I stop, confused, “What?”

He’s still not looking at me, feigning being distracted by whatever he’s cooking. I notice his jaw. Tight and clenched. His hands stop, white knuckles gripping the kitchen knife. 

“Shindou. He's not worth your time."

“And you know this how?” I say, suspicion creeping up my throat.

He shrugs, “I've heard shit. He’s a fuckboy.”

I narrow my eyes. “You think he’s playing me? Just wants a quick fuck?”

“Yes.” He replies, unruffled.

I’m pissed now.

Hurt claws at my throat, choking my words. “And you think I’m that easy?” 

He frowns, shaking his head, “No. I didn’t say that.”

My fists clench, nails biting into my palms. “Sure sounds like that’s what you’re saying.” 

His head snaps up and he glowers at me. His eyes are dark, but more irate than angry.

He growls, “Would you just stop assuming and listen to me? I’m not saying that! Just—” 

He sighs and sets the knife down on the cutting board. He takes a deep breath, gripping the counter as he leans on it.  

I decide I’m absolutely done with this conversation. I turn on my heel, practically fuming. I’m almost to the hallway when I hear him again.

His voice is quiet. “Just be careful, okay? That’s all I wanted to say.”

I don’t let him know that I heard him. I just stomp into my room and slam the door. 

Chapter 9: popcorn and an apology

Summary:

“It’s just…” I try to find the words. “It means a lot to be seen. To be understood.”

His face slackens, suddenly serious as he looks at me intently.

“You should be seen.”

I feel every neuron in my brain as they all short circuit. Every synapse stutters as each part of my body suddenly forgets its purpose.

I breathe in, my lungs remembering their reason for existence. “Thanks for seeing me, Katsuki.”

Notes:

Surprise!

I couldn't wait to drop this chapter! It's short, but I hope you guys enjoy. I really wanted to follow up after Y/N and Bakugou's argument. All comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.

I posted a video on my TikTok (@sukunas_20_fingers_) with the inspo/aesthetic for this chapter. Until next time! :)

With my back against my door, I exhale long and slow. I fight the urge to collapse onto my plush, green comforter, seeking the comfort of my room.

I don’t know why, but I feel like crying. He barely knows me, why does Katsuki think he has any say in who I date? I’m not that interested in Shindou, but now I want to text him just to spite Katsuki. Just to piss him off.

I grab some clean clothes—a bralette, underwear, a pair of sleep shorts, and an oversized UAU sweatshirt—and take the opportunity to shower. I don’t know when dinner will be ready, and I really have zero desire to talk with him anytime soon. I consider bringing my speaker into the bathroom to blare loud, obnoxious music just to annoy Katsuki, but I decide it's too much work. 

I slip out of my room into the bathroom, I can hear him moving around the kitchen still. I don’t look behind me as I enter the bathroom quickly.

The hiss of the water fills my ears. Hot water soaks my hair and my skin, releasing some of my pent up anger and stress. I feel my shoulders relax and I bask in the warmth.

It’s my fatal flaw—my quick temper. I jump to conclusions easily. I assume. I’m impatient. I overthink.

I try, I really do. To breathe. To let it wash over me like a wave, rising then dissipating into calm. I’m just so frustrated. Is he actually worried about me, or is he just being controlling? And who died and gave him the right? I'm a big girl. I've made it this far by myself, I don't need anyone commenting on my choices. 

He really seemed sincere. The more I think about it, the more I realize he was genuinely concerned. It was sweet, and he was trying to look out for me. And all I did was bite his head off and dismiss him.

Why am I like this?

I sigh. I finally work up the courage to get out of the sanctuary that is the shower. I towel dry my hair quickly and get dressed, the long strands curling loosely from the moisture. I plan to talk to him as soon as I am out of the bathroom. To apologize for my short fuse. I open the door, plumes of steam announcing my exit. 

I slowly approach the kitchen, like a dog with their tail between their legs after peeing on the carpet. 

But when I enter, he’s gone. No trace of my blond roommate. There’s a hot pot sitting on the stove. The burner is off but the lid atop traps the heat. A single sticky note rests on the handle of the spoon. In his bold, sharp handwriting, it says, “Put away whatever you don’t eat.”

I want to cry. I clutch the note in my hands, feeling tears forming in my eyes. I can’t hear him in his room, and his shoes by the door are gone. I wonder where he ran off to. I don’t know what I should do. 

Am I the reason he left? Should I text him an apology? Should I wait for him to get home?

I decide on the latter. I’ll talk to him in person. I feel terrible for snapping at him. He didn’t deserve that. 

Ever since I was younger, I’ve been defensive. I think it was my mother’s doing. Her sharp words and cruel bite caused me to assume the worst. Always in fight inside of flight. Having a backbone hasn’t entirely been a curse, though. 

I’ve always been able to stand up for myself and those I care about, but sometimes I bite the hand that feeds me. I take constructive criticism the wrong way, taking offense instead of realizing it is out of genuine care.

That’s all Katsuki was doing. He wasn’t doubting me, he was doubting Shindou.

I need to apologize to him. 

I rub a hand down my face as I stand in my dimly lit kitchen. Well, I have nothing to do until he’s back. Might as well eat, and maybe I’ll finally finish my book. 

I feel sick to my stomach, guilt eating me inside out for snapping at him. I eat fast and put away the leftovers. I wash my hands and my few dishes quickly then go to pick up my book from the coffee table. Except, it’s not where I left it. I had left it face down, with the page’s split at my spot. Katsuki had eyed it when I saw him last night and made a comment about it breaking the spine of my book.

 

“You’re going to ruin it,” he said.  

“It’ll be fine,” I waved him off, dismissing his concern. 

“Why do you still refuse to use a bookmark?” he asked, irritated. 

I chuckled, remembering how he noticed that on one of our first days together.  

“It's not that I refuse, I just lost mine and haven’t had time to buy a new one.” 

He rolled his eyes, walking away to his room without the final word. 

I had said those things off-handed, in a casual conversation while passing each other in the living room. Nothing I thought he'd remember, or even care about.

But now my book is not splayed face down—spine screaming. It’s folded shut. Sitting neatly, poised on the coffee table. 

That’s when I find it peeking from the top of the pages. I gasp, my heart flipping.

It is a white rectangle of firm cardstock. There are watercolor, cobalt blue flowers on it, sitting on dainty, emerald green stems. Forget-me-nots. It's so intricate I can't tell if it's a printed design or if it was hand painted. The name of a local bookstore I recognize is on the back.

It’s a bookmark. On the exact chapter I left off on. 

Did he buy this? For me? And care enough to put it between my pages? My fingers delicately brush over the cerulean colored petals, as if they're real and not paper.

My chest squeezes tight, air not able to enter my lungs. I can’t stop staring at it.

It’s perfect. It’s the most precious thing I’ve ever seen. I want to frame it, but I want to use it even more.

I don’t read a word on the page, I immediately pull out my phone.

Me: Where are you?

I wait for him to answer, but he doesn’t. I stare at the screen for a few minutes. My gaze flicks between my phone and that bookmark. 

It’s so perfectly me. Forget-me-nots are some of my favorite flowers, how could he have known?

He listened when I said I had lost my bookmark and didn’t have a chance to buy a new one. He even put it between the right pages. How did he find something so truly tailored to me?

He listens to me. He cares.

That’s why he cares about Shindou. Because he cares. He just... has a hard way of showing it.

I jump to my feet, deciding I want to look for him.

I grab my keys and a pair of slip-on sandals. I throw the door open, ready to walk down the hall to see if he’s at a friend’s apartment. I figure that's where he may be.

But a body stops me.

A broad chest, blond hair, and scarlet eyes. 

I swallow and meet his piercing gaze.

Katsuki.

“Hi.”

I choke out the word. It’s a little awkward due to my surprise. I did not expect to be standing there. 

“Um, I texted you,” I say.

I open the door wider and he slips past me, kicking off his shoes. “I had to drop off some stuff to Eijirou.”

It comes out blunt. I swallow.

“I wanted to talk to you,” I shut the door. We stand face to face in our little entryway. 

He sighs, “What is it?”

It’s not rude, but terse. Very get-to-the-point.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

He shrugs, dispassionate, “It’s fine.”

“But it’s not,” I wring my hands together. “I was out of line. You were only trying to look out for me and I appreciate that.”

He stares at me silently as he crosses his arms, the air around us a deafening quiet. 

I chew on the inside of my cheek, then ramble. ”It’s just, I have this short fuse and for some reason, it got lit. I shouldn’t have snapped. I shouldn’t have assumed. I’m sorry.”

He sighs, a single exhale that’s long and drawn out.

“Don’t worry about it.”

I shake my head lightly. I’m a chronic overthinker. I’ve been sick to my stomach just the last 30 minutes thinking about how I acted. 

“Except I have been worrying about it. I just… I got defensive and assumed you were making some backhanded remark. I’m sorry.”

I fidget awkwardly, "In any case, I don’t even know why I got so upset, I’m not even interested in him.”

His jaw twitches. “Really?” Katsuki says. The word comes out almost eager.

“Really,” I huff a genuinely amused laugh. “He is not my type.”

Katsuki just looks at me with those scarlet eyes that snag my attention every time. 

He clears his throat. “Regardless,” he starts, “You can make your own decisions. I shouldn’t have said anything. I just… You…” A pause.

He scratches the back of his neck, “You deserve better than him.”

My pulse quickens. I tilt my head, a soft smile forming on my lips, “You mean it?”

He nods once, sincere, “I mean it.” 

I breathe slowly, letting this moment soak into my bones and warm me from the inside out. I reach out a hand, extending it to him.

“Truce?” I say, hopeful.

That earns me a rare grin. The side of his mouth tilts up into a lopsided smirk.

“Truce.”

His hand takes mine in a mocking handshake, like we just did a business transaction. Something just between us.

His large hand practically swallows mine whole. His calluses softly scratch my palms. His strong fingers squeeze around mine. I stare at his hand. Veiny. Beautiful. Strong. Yet another flawless thing about him.

I hold on a second too long due to my wandering thoughts. Realization hits me and I drop it quickly. 

I tilt my head and give him a light-hearted raise of my eyebrows, “Can we watch One Punch Man now?”

He lets out a small chuckle, flashing one of his scarce smiles. “If you make popcorn.”

I light up, “Deal!”

“Nerd,” he snorts, making his way to the couch and turning the TV on. I start making popcorn on the stove top, one of the few culinary things I’m excellent at. I’ve only made it one other time here, so Katsuki must have enjoyed it. 

The pan hisses and sizzles, then loud popping fills the room. I quickly dress it with some salt and butter, pouring it into a large bowl for us to share. 

I make my way to the couch and sit near him, folding my legs under me. We’re close enough that we can share popcorn, but a few feet apart. He clicks on our show, but it buffers as the episode loads. 

“Oh!” I grab my book off of the table and open it, remembering I was going to thank him.

“This,” I hold the watercolored bookmark in my hand, “is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. When did you have time to buy this?”

He shrugs, but I see his cheeks flush slightly, “I made time.”

He says it like it's nothing. Like it’s something so insignificant.

But it’s everything. I want to burst. I’m filled with so much emotion, so much that it all builds inside of me to the point of explosion. 

I smile brightly. Genuinely. My cheeks ache from it, but I don't care. 

“I don’t think I could ever thank you enough.”

“For a piece of paper?” his eyebrow raises, incredulous. 

“It’s not just—ugh,” I sigh dramatically, I put it back in my book and close it, “You wouldn’t get it.”

He's amused now, and he actually chuckles. A deep, low rumble in the back of his throat. So short-lived and quiet that I think I may have imagined it. 

His crimson eyes catch my gaze, “What wouldn’t I get?”

I push my half-dry hair to one side of my neck, fidgeting and twisting the waves as I attempt to formulate my emotions into a sentence.

“It’s just…” I try to find the words. “It means a lot to be seen. To be understood.”

His face slackens, suddenly serious as he looks at me intently.

“You should be seen.”

I feel every neuron in my brain as they all short circuit. Every synapse stutters as each part of my body suddenly forgets its purpose. 

I breathe in, my lungs remembering their reason for existence. “Thanks for seeing me, Katsuki.”

His face is unsmiling, but serene. Serious but soft.

His voice is low as he says, “You’re welcome.”

The screen of the TV lights up, choosing now of all moments to finish loading and start playing. The loud opening interrupts our conversation. 

I find myself being irritated that it did. 

We focus on the show, watching the episode in comfortable silence. The smell of buttery popcorn fills the air around me. The dim lamp in the corner is on, casting a faint, warm glow around the room. It's cozy—being here. My hand brushes his once as I reach for the popcorn.

“Sorry,” Katsuki mumbles.

“It’s fine,” I say quickly, trying to pretend my heart didn’t just burst out of my chest. 

Why is he making my heart feel this way? Just his presence right now makes my chest squeeze, so badly I consider calling an ambulance. 

I think I am just so tragically used to thinking about everyone else, I don’t know how to react when someone thinks of me.

Our forced proximity doesn’t help, either. This past month or so of living with him has me seeing Katsuki in all sorts of moments. His drowsy, boyish face in the morning, hair tousled and soft. His yawns at the end of the day. The bass of his voice. The smell of his detergent. His toothbrush on the bathroom counter. His shoes by the door. It’s all so domestic and natural.

Katsuki Bakugou is quickly becoming something I don’t mind getting used to. 

Chapter 10: yes or no

Summary:

“You know,” I start, “I feel like I’ve been thanking you a lot lately.”

He snorts, “You’re right. When are you going to do something for me for a change?”

I giggle at his joking words, “I’ll think about it.”

Katsuki just lightly shakes his head, and says nothing.

Notes:

I'm so sorry it took so long to get this chapter out! I've been working and KPop Demon Hunters has taken over my life.

Anyways, hope you all enjoy. :3

I wake up to my alarm scaring the absolute shit out of me. 

I nearly jump out of my skin. The light from my window hits my face, making me squint and rub the sleep from my eyes as my heart slows.

I grab my phone to check the time. It’s 6 AM on Saturday. It’s the day of Denki and Ochako’s party. She texted me about it on the day that Katsuki sprained his ankle, yet they keep changing the date and procrastinating. That was already over a month ago.

This week has been excruciatingly uneventful. My days were full and Katsuki’s were, too. He’s off of his crutches, his ankle now almost mended. I hope he has been doing as he was told and taking it easy at practice. I snort as I imagine him pouting on the bench while everyone else runs. We have barely seen each other since our argument earlier this week about Shindou. Though, it did all end well after I realized I was being a dramatic bitch and apologized.

I turn over in bed, groaning as I do not want to be awake at this hour. I glance at my night stand. I have a pair of glasses on it, a few necklaces, a pack of gum, and my car keys sitting next to my headphones. But, I smile when I see it, my heart doing somersaults. It’s the pretty, simple bookmark Katsuki had given me. I still can't believe he went out of his way and drove to the other side of town just for me. Like, that has to mean something, right? Am I digging too far into it?

I mean, we’re just roommates. 

My stomach growls. I woke up early because I was planning on going to the library to study, but I guess I should probably eat first. I remember that Kamino’s is open. My mouth waters thinking about their almond croissants.

I yawn, forcing myself to rise. I stretch like a sunbathing cat and begrudgingly decide to start getting ready. Since I have time, I feel like putting in an effort for once, so I opt for a sundress I haven’t worn in a while and throw an oversized, knit cardigan over the top. I do my makeup and curl my hair quickly. Katsuki’s room door is closed. I didn’t hear him get up so I am sure he’s still asleep. 

I creep past his door, trying to be quiet as I grab my purse and leave, clicking the door shut behind me.

The walk to the cafe is short. I relish in the early morning, September sun as it warms my skin. Campus is mostly empty, me being one of the few brave souls to wake up early on a weekend. I hear soft chirping of birds in the tall, green trees that litter campus and the quiet hum of sprinklers watering the lawn. Two older women are walking a tiny, white dog on the sidewalk ahead of me, and a man probably my father’s age jogs past me. It’s peaceful. I soak in the serenity of the quiet morning.

I enter the cafe to find it relatively empty, save a few students littered around. The sun streams through the windows, illuminating the clean tables and green plants around the cafe. A Clairo song plays from the speakers. I’m the only person in line. I greet the familiar barista as I scan the pastries, looking for the perfect one. I ask for an almond croissant, my go-to choice. I pause as I scan the shelves, I wonder if Katsuki would want something. What does he even like?

“What do you recommend I get for a friend?” I ask the girl helping me.

“Hmmm, do they prefer savory or sweet?”

“Honestly, no idea,” I chuckle.

She laughs, too. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea to get one of each. Maybe a chocolate croissant and a breakfast sandwich?”

“Perfect,” I point at the one of my choosing, “Let’s do that bacon and egg one there.”

I quickly pay her and grab my things. I guess I didn’t think this through, because now I have to backtrack to my apartment to drop off his food before turning around to head to the library. Though, I guess I don’t really mind all that much. The weather is beautiful and I am in a good mood. Plus, Katsuki needs to eat, too! 

When I get back home, I notice he’s awake as I enter. He’s not in the living room, but I can hear him moving about his room and his door is now open. 

I turn down the hall and peek into the open room. He’s digging through his drawers, wearing a tight, black tank top and plaid pajama bottoms.

I knock on the door frame to make myself known. “Morning!”

He looks at me, “You’re up early.”

“You, too.” I reveal the bag I’m holding, “Hungry?”

“What’s that?” He finds what he’s looking for, pulling out a shirt and some socks and shuts his drawer. 

“Breakfast. Do you like pastries?”

His face is slightly confused, “You got me breakfast?”

“Well, yeah, of course,” I shrug.

He looks cute. His light hair is mussed from sleep in an oddly perfect way. The morning light from his window hits him just right, illuminating his skin and deepening the shadows of his muscular arms. 

“That’s… nice.” His reply to me is slow, like he didn’t know what he was trying to say.

I smile, “I’ll leave it on the table.”

He comes out of his room soon after, yawning and stretching. I catch a glimpse of his stomach, the small expanse of skin that shows when he raises his arms. It’s hard to look away. He looks so… well… I guess I don’t know how to explain it. But this side of him that I get to see is so raw and unfiltered. So real. Like the way his hair is a little tousled from sleep, and his eyes slightly squinted as they adjust to the bright light in the kitchen. Our kitchen. His shirt hikes up a little more, teasing my mind. 

My gaze drifts to his waist. The exposed skin is paired with low rise pajama bottoms that show the waistband of his boxers. It’s all practically pornographic to my brain. I tear my eyes away and clear my throat. 

“I didn’t know what you would like so I guessed. You can have whatever you want.” 

I push the bag toward him as he sits in the kitchen chair. He digs through, finding the food I had gotten for us. 

He pulls out the sandwich and takes a bite. His head tilts back as he groans, “Fuck, this is good.”

I grab the pastry of my choosing and giggle, “Glad to hear it.”

I take a bite then remember what I was going to talk to him about.

“Oh, Denki and Ochako’s party is tonight!”

He groans like a teenager being told to clean their room, “No way in hell am I going to that.”

“Except you are.”

“Says who?” he argues.

“Says me.”

He glares. I must have ruined the good mood his sandwich put him in.

“Why do I have to go?” 

I shake my head lightly, “You never know, it may be fun.”

He pauses and studies me.

“I’m only going if Kirishima is going,” he mumbles.

I smile smugly, “Good thing he is.”

+++

I studied for a few hours at the library after breakfast. After confirming Eijirou was in fact coming to the party, Katsuki gave in. When I came home from studying, Katsuki was gone. He was at the gym with his teammates. I only knew that because “GYM 2PM” was written on our calendar on the fridge in sharp, uppercase letters. 

I hope he takes it easy, given that he was only cleared of his crutches less than a week ago. He had mentioned something to me about the trainer allowing him to do upper body or use the stationary bike. That’s fine, I guess. I just worry about him getting hurt again.

It is 4 PM, so I am sure he will be home soon. I do miscellaneous, mundane things. I begrudgingly wash and fold a load of laundry. I wash the few dishes in our sink. I flip through the food channel. I proceed to find nothing, so I toss myself onto my bed for a quick nap. 

Except my nap ends up being much longer than I anticipated, because I woke up to someone touching my shoulder.

“Nerd,” another small shove and a deep voice, “Wake up.”

My eyes flutter open and I jump slightly due to my interrupted sleep. I rub my eyes as they focus on my dimly lit room. 

It’s Katsuki, sitting on the edge of my bed and nudging me. 

“Time for that stupid party. Get up.”

I yawn, too tired to be surprised that he is in my room. “How long was I asleep?”

“I don’t know. But it’s 7:30.”

My eyes fly open and I quickly sit up, “Shit! ”

He snorts, “Just get ready fast so we can go.”

I throw my legs off the side of the bed. I’m a little embarrassed he caught me asleep. I wipe my hand across my mouth, hoping there’s no drool.

“I’m surprised you woke me up, you probably could’ve ditched it if you let me sleep.” I run a hand through my hair, calming the frizz that resulted from my slumber. 

“I told you I would go, didn’t I?” He says, the words come out a little irritated. He stands and the bed shifts as his weight leaves my mattress, “Just hurry so we can get this over with.”

I smirk and he makes his way out of my room, closing the door behind him. I grab new clothes and change quickly into something comfy. As I get dressed, I can’t stop thinking about the fact that he remembered the party, and still bothered to wake me up. I mean, this would have been a perfect opportunity for him to skip. So why does he want to go? 

I brush out my hair quickly, the long strands still wavy from this morning. I grab an old pair of Converse from my closet as I make my way out of my room. They pair well with the graphic tee I am wearing, the logo some band my dad loves. My loose jeans hug me nicely, but aren’t too tight. My “go-to” pair for any outing. 

Katsuki is on the couch scrolling through his phone. I hadn’t noticed his clothes when he was in my room. Now that I can see him better, I do. It is rare to see him not wearing sweats or some form of workout attire. He is wearing old school, high top Vans and a distressed pair of baggy jeans. He has a grey sweatshirt on with some brand in a vintage font. Peeking from the collar, I can see he is wearing his silver chain. The cherry on top is the navy blue baseball cap he wears with some MLB (possibly NHL?) team I don’t know. He looks very “boy next door”, it’s cute. 

“Ready?" I bend down to tie my laces. Katsuki groans and stands, clicking off his phone and putting it in his pocket. He follows me out the door and I lock it behind us. 

"I can drive,” I say, swinging my keys.

“Wait, drive? They live like three doors down?” he asks, suspicious.

I force myself to keep a straight face, “It’s at Kyouka’s parents house.”

His eyes narrow, “You didn’t tell me that.”

“I’m sure I did,” I say, leading him to my car and fully knowing that I did not tell him. 

He huffs, irritated. I’m glad he’s behind me, because I’m fighting the laugh bubbling up my throat.

I unlock my car, entering quickly and connecting my phone to the sound system. Katsuki enters shortly after, clicking his seatbelt in place. 

I hand him my phone, leaving it unlocked and open to my music app.

“You can aux as a peace offering.”

He snorts and grabs my phone, fingers brushing mine. I shift the car and try to ignore the way my chest squeezes, reversing out of my spot then pulling out of the lot. 

We drive in silence for just a minute or so.

“What do you want to listen to?” Katsuki says as he scrolls. I’m surprised he asking.

“I gave you free reign, you choose,” I pull onto the busy road, admiring the sunset as we drive toward the party.

“Well I can’t decide, so be helpful.”

I roll my eyes, “Just no country music or your privileges are revoked.”

I see him look at me from my periphery. “I cannot believe you think so low of me. You really felt the need to tell me that?” He pretends to be hurt, but I can tell that he means it jokingly.

I laugh and laugh some more, “Then play something good so I know you don’t have shit taste in music.”

He shakes his head and grumbles under his breath, “I don’t have shit taste.”

After a few seconds and him typing something into the search bar, I hear the song of his choice play.

The familiar beat and words fill my ears. I want to scream out of pure excitement. How is it that he chose one of my absolute favorite songs?

It’s “Yes or No” by Jung Kook. 

I keep my eyes on the road, but I raise a hand to cover my mouth. 

“Katsuki Bakugou, you like this song?” I ask, completely shocked he chose such a catchy, pop song. One that is not like his usual taste in music at all. I hear the songs that he plays in his room. Mostly all loud, heavy metal.

“I’ve never heard this song,” he says flatly. Matter-of-fact.

I glance at him briefly. He’s leaning back in the seat comfortably, staring out the window. He can’t see me watching him, but I catch his hand drumming the rhythm of the song on his thigh. It’s probably the years of playing the drums that allow him to catch onto a beat so quickly. 

“Why did you choose this song then?” I ask, confused.

“Found your most recent playlist. Clicked shuffle.”

I shake my head in disbelief, “I fucking love this song.”

He doesn’t say anything, and I don’t either. I soak in the view, the busy highway and setting sun. The sound of my favorite song in my ears and flowing through my bones. The pure serotonin of it.

“What did you think?” I ask when the song ends.

He shrugs, indifferent, “It was fine.” 

I roll my eyes, and the next song in the queue starts playing. Another from my recent playlist of favorites. 

“‘It was amazing’ was the correct answer,” I retort.

“I’m entitled to my opinion, you know,” he huffs.

“As am I.”

He shakes his head, but I glance at him quickly and catch the ghost of a grin on his lips. A few minutes pass. Another song comes and goes.

"Thanks for coming with me," I say abruptly, genuine.

He grunts but doesn't say anything. He fidgets in his seat, raising and adjusting his hips. The movement immediately catches my attention and I mentally shake myself, trying not to think about it.

+++

We pull up to the Jirou home. It’s large and in a neighborhood of equally fancy houses. The large amount of cars parked on the street is surprising, I didn’t realize half the city was invited.  

Before we can even get to the door, we hear music playing. It thrums through the walls, and Katsuki snickers.

“Hopefully there’s a noise complaint so we can go home.”

I flick his arm and he glares at me, “Oh, hush.” I scowl at him, but I can’t hide my smile. Seeing him so bothered by social interaction is pretty entertaining. 

The door is cracked open, so we let ourselves inside. The place is pretty full of people. I know most of them, but some of them are underclassmen I recognize but have never talked to. The main lights are dimmed, but some colorful LED lights are strung high on the walls. Very 2020. A very cheap looking disco ball hangs from the ceiling. We push ourselves further inside, and the room opens up when we get to the large kitchen. 

“Hey guys!” I hear, I turn and see a very smiley Eijirou. His hair is pushed back with a bandana and a red cup with mystery liquid sits in his hand. I give him a quick hug, greeting him fast but letting him turn his attention onto Katsuki. His expression shows annoyance, but I know it isn’t aimed at his friend. Trusting that he will play nice if his best friend is here, I turn to find something to drink. I make my way to the kitchen where I find Denki and Sero.

“Hey!” Denki grins at me while he sips from his cup.

“Hi, Sparky. What can I drink that’ll actually taste good?”

He feigns offense, “Excuse me? Everything here is good!” He points to a large container that holds a neon blue drink inside. “Ochako made that one, it’s pretty good. That pink one over there is my doing. Be warned, it’s strong stuff.”

I giggle, and start filling my cup with the blue drink. I sip it slowly, testing to see how edible it is. Thankfully it tastes fine, I hardly notice the alcohol with how sweet it is. I say bye to him and Sero after a few minutes and decide to look for my girl friends.

I make my way around the room, saying hi to people I know and introducing myself to those I don’t. I see Ochako and Izuku, I wave at them briefly but pass by. Tenya is with Shouto and I talk to the boys for a few minutes. I finally find Momo in a corner talking to Mina.

Mina’s hair is back in two low buns, the pink curls bouncy and adorable. She’s wearing silver eyeshadow and black eyeliner, making her eyes look large in a cute way. It works perfectly for her. Her shirt is cropped and skintight, a black and purple leopard pattern. Very Y2K and very Mina. 

Momo is naturally more reserved, she’s wearing a white, high necked white tank top and black slacks. A dainty necklace sits on her neck, the red stone matching her red flats. 

I am painfully underdressed, I realize. This party feels more like a club than a casual get together. 

“There is no way you got Bakugou out of the house!” Mina exclaims loudly over the music and noise. She is the only girl in Bakugou’s circle, though he doesn’t hang out with many people to begin with. He sticks with mostly Mina and Kirashima, occasionally Sero and Denki. If anyone knows how much Katsuki hates being here, it is probably Mina.

She sips from her cup and continues, “I don’t think he’s ever gone to a party. It’s like pulling teeth just to get him to hang out with us!”

“Seriously, I’m surprised, too!” Momo says, “Did you threaten him?”

I giggle, “No, of course not! He actually didn’t fight me that bad on it. I even fell asleep earlier and he woke me up so we could come.”

Mina’s face holds so much surprise, she almost looks horrified. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” I sip my drink and my eyes search for the topic of this conversation. My body is starting to relax, I realize the alcohol is slowly entering my blood stream. 

I look behind Momo and find Katsuki across the room with his back to me, talking to Eijirou and some younger guys I don’t know. His hat is now turned backwards. He looks very “frat-bro” esque, which is funny considering how much he dislikes this kind of scene.

“Has he been nice to you? I know he can be… difficult…” Mina says her words carefully.

I grin, “It hasn’t been bad at all. Yeah, he can be moody but he has been fine to live with. And he’s a great cook.”

“He cooks?” Momo’s eyes are wide as the words leave her mouth. I shrug and raise my cup to my lips. I look back over Momo’s shoulder at Katsuki, but this time he’s sitting on a couch next to Eijirou. His face is expressionless as he listens to what Eijirou is saying. His attention drifts, and our eyes meet.

Just for a second. Then he looks away. But, a half-smile graces his face.

Did I imagine that? 

Surely I didn’t. I can see the tug at his lips, slanted up in that small grin he rarely shows. The moment passes in an instant, and his lips touch the edge of his cup. As he sips, his eyes drift to me again. Locking with my gaze that never strayed from his face.

It’s my turn to look away, but I can’t. Lights flash and music thrums, humming through my limbs. My body feels warm, courtesy of the alcohol and bodies around me. But all I can see is him. He’s leaning back with his arm on the back of the couch. His eyebrow raises, almost like a challenge. I smirk, and mouth What? back to him silently. He just shakes his head and tears his gaze from mine. Someone calling my name pulls me from my thoughts.

I turn and look up. A tall man with dark hair and eyes looks down at me.

“Oh, hey Shindou. I didn’t know I would get to see you here,” I say. I try to hide my irritation. He couldn’t have known, but Katsuki and I were having a moment, weren’t we? One Shindou interrupted. 

“Denki invited me, we are in the same engineering class.”

I always forget Denki is studying engineering. The major is famously difficult, and Denki can sometimes be an airhead. Yet, he has an insane amount of knowledge when it comes to electricity. It’s impressive, really. 

“That’s cool!” I say. I don’t want to be rude to Shindou. He’s kind and cute. I am just not that interested.

I politely introduce him to Momo and Mina. My friends give him smiles. Shindou is naturally charismatic, and sends my friends into fits of laughter multiple times. I stay there and smile, giggling occasionally but not really meaning it. The conversation flows easily, and soon I realize we've been talking for much longer than I thought.

Mina and Momo excuse themselves, making some excuse about needing to find a bathroom. Mina gives me a mischievous look as she walks away. I wonder if she thinks she’s doing me a favor by leaving me alone with him.

I realize now I hadn’t told Momo nor Mina about my interaction with him the other day. Which also means I never got to mention that I’m not into him.

And now we’re alone. An awkward silence falls between us, but is filled with the loud house music booming from the Jirou's speakers. There are some people around us drinking and swaying to the song. I wring my hands, trying to look anywhere but at Shindou. 

He leans close to me to say something over the noise. I can’t hear him.

“What did you say?” I half shout.

He chuckles and lightly grabs my waist, pulling me flush with him. Our chests touching. One hand comes up and brushes the hair away from my ear so he can lean down and say something.

“I said you look pretty.”

I flush. I don’t know if it’s because of his words or because of his touch. Goosebumps erupt on my skin from his grip, one hand still pushing my hair out of my face while the other has a tight grip on my hip.

“Thanks,” I say shyly. I don’t love the way he’s holding me right now. I glance away, hoping Katsuki is where I saw him last. He is, and I catch his stare.

There’s a girl sitting next to him on the couch. I don’t recognize her. Thick, caramel colored hair cascades over her shoulder. Her body is completely turned toward him. Her skirt is short and her bare legs are crossed. The leg on top is practically resting on Katsuki's knee. Her hand is caressing his shoulder, and my stomach sours. 

I meet his gaze, trying to give him a wide-eyed look that says help. He stares for a second longer as his eyes darken, not even bothering to look at the girl who is next to him, who is blinking flirtatiously and giggling. Yet, his attention is all on me. 

I subtly wave at him, beckoning that he comes over. Praying he can do something to get Shindou to back off a little.

He stands, not even bothering to address the girl that practically topples over from the abrupt movement. His face is pure anger, eyes like fire. 

“I haven’t seen you in awhile,” Shindou says with a wide grin, grip unrelenting. It pulls me away from Katsuki's movements.

“I’ve been busy,” I say. I try now to push myself away from him. As I finally free myself from Shindou’s touch, I feel an arm settle around my shoulders.

“Who’s this?” a deep, cocky voice says.

It’s Katsuki. To my rescue. His arm is wrapped around me tightly, almost protectively. His face is angry, but it smooths into a smug expression as he looks at me. Those damn scarlet eyes. 

“We’ve met.” Shindou says, obviously irritated.

“Oh, right! Tendou! Hey, I’m Bakugou,” Katsuki says, I have to bite my lip to keep from bursting into laughter.

“It’s Shindou.” His eyes narrow.

“Oops,” Katsuki shrugs like it was an honest mistake. I know Katsuki too well, though. He’s doing this on purpose. And he is doing an amazing job.

“Let’s get a drink,” Katsuki says, now looking at me. His red eyes are mischievous and I never want to look away.

“Bye, Shindou,” I say, “It was nice to see you.”

His expression is confusion and frustration and so many other things. It’s hilarious.

As we turn to leave, Katsuki's arm leaves my shoulders. My heart sinks. I realize I liked his arm around me. The warmth and weight of it was comforting. Before I get too sad, he reaches back and grabs my hand. My stomach flips.

He holds my hand tightly, weaving me through the crowd. I’m sure my face is pink from all the things that just occurred. More than anything, I am relishing in the feeling of Katsuki’s hand in mine. His firm grip guides me as he leads us through the thick mass of bodies. I happen to catch a death glare from the girl who was talking to Katsuki earlier. Her eyes are narrow slits as she analyzes me.

If looks could kill, I'd be long gone at this moment.

We finally push through and exit through the back door. He drops my hand, and I find myself a little disappointed. They have a large backyard. The flood lights are off, so it’s dark. The windows cast very little light, the only other illumination is from the pool lights. They flicker and shift due to the water’s surface. The pool sits a little bit away from us, separated from the house by a large patio and grass.

The only other thing out here is the stars. And us.

I sigh, grateful for space and fresh air. The stars are out tonight, bright and scattered. 

“Thank you,” I say to Katsuki.

He’s standing next to me, looking up at the sky as I am. His hands are in his pockets, shoulders pushed back but relaxed. We’re close, but not touching.

“You owe me,” is all he says. I laugh.

He shakes his head, “Really,” he motions with his head back to the party inside, “Camie doesn’t know how to take a hint.”

I try to fight the pit in my stomach. I tilt my head, “Oh, Camie. Was she the one all over you in there?”

Is that jealousy on my tongue? I can't be, right?

“Yes. Save me next time.” He steps forward and lowers himself to sit on the cool grass. He takes off his hat, running a hand through his hair.

“You don’t like her?” I find myself prying. I go and sit next to him. Our poses are identical, our legs stretched out in front of us, both leaning back on our palms as we look to the stars, basking in the open air and darkness of night. 

“Nope,” he says, emphasizing the p with a pop. 

“Is she always like that?”

“Unfortunately.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. I realize we both have the same issue of getting obnoxiously pursued by people we are not interested in. 

Katsuki snorts, “That’s why you have to save me next time.”

I glance at him. His face is calm, amused even. 

“What do you expect me to do,” I chuckle, “If she won’t listen to you, what makes you think she will listen to me?”

“The same way I know Shindou won’t bother you after tonight.”

“Which is?”

Katsuki shrugs, “I’m another guy. I’m competition.”

I laugh, “Shindou knows we’re just roommates, I’m not sure it’ll scare him off enough.”

Katsuki’s jaw twitches, “Right. Roommates.”

His comment was terse. And a little blunt. What was that about? 

I fidget and pluck at a piece of grass. 

“So then, how do you want me to scare Camie?” I say jokingly.

Katsuki groans, “Just pull me away whenever she bugs me. Hopefully she’ll catch the hint.”

I shake my head and giggle. It’s a silly plan.

“You know what,” I start, “It just might work. Or she’ll key my car.”

He snorts, “I’m smart sometimes, you know.”

“Yeah, only sometimes,” I wink at him. He lightly bumps me with his shoulder. A playful shove.

“Shut up, nerd,” he growls, but I can see the smile he’s fighting.

Our banter is natural and flows easily. I sigh, soaking in the comfort of his familiar presence.

I pause, thinking about what Katsuki had said to me a few days ago.

“Why was it that you told me to stay away from Shindou?”

He doesn’t look at me. He reclines so he’s now lying flat on the grass with his hands behind his head. He takes a deep breath.

“I’ve just heard the kind of things he’s said about girls. And what he’s done to girls. It’s all fucked up.”

Katsuki doesn’t expand. I slowly lean back, too. I let the coolness of the grass soak into my bones, grounding me. Now that I’m lying back, I can see the stars perfectly. The constellations I recognize catch my eye, and the moon is just a small sliver in the sky. 

It’s relaxing. It smells like a calm, late summer night. Not hot but not cold. Just right. My head rests on the grass. There’s a faint chirp of crickets and some distant car horns honking from the road.

“Thanks for looking out for me.” I turn my head to look at him. 

I remember the way Shindou’s hands held me. I fight a shiver. It wasn’t aggressive or scary, but it was unwanted. 

There was a stark difference from the way I felt when Shindou was holding me to when Katsuki wrapped his arm around me. 

It was comfortable. Warm. I could smell him—that familiar scent that surrounds me at our apartment. That makes me feel comfortable and safe. 

His voice is soft, “No problem.”

He stares up at the sky. It’s so dark out here I can't make out too many details, but I can see the sharp outline of his face. His straight nose. Defined jaw. Thick hair. 

“You know,” I start, “I feel like I’ve been thanking you a lot lately.”

He snorts, “You’re right. When are you going to do something for me for a change?”

I giggle at his joking words, “I’ll think about it.”

He just lightly shakes his head, and says nothing.

Katsuki and I sit there in a comfortable silence for a few moments.

"Why don't you like Camie?" I ask, intruding.

"You ask a lot of damn questions," he mumbles.

"I'm curious, what can I say," I turn to look at him.

He sighs, "I just... I don't like her like that. She's nice and all, just not interested."

The words fall out before I can stop myself. "Do you like anyone like that?"

"Again with the questions," he mumbles. He adjusts, moving his hands from behind his head to rest them on his abdomen.

"It's the alcohol. I lose my filter." I try to act unbothered. In reality, I'm swimming in embarrassment at my invasive question. 

He snorts, his voice low, "You don't say."

I giggle, "You didn't answer my question."

A beat, then his voice fills the silence. A single word, short and definite.

"No."

And I don't know if I feel relief or disappoint. 

I let myself sit in the quiet for a little bit. I see the blinking lights of a plane break up the night sky. It dips behind one of very few clouds and leaves my sight. Now the stars stare back at me. At Katsuki and I.

I hear a sound, and light from the back door illuminates the dark lawn.

“Oh, there you guys are! Do you guys wanna play Spin the Bottle?” Ochako asks excitedly.

Chapter 11: spin the bottle

Notes:

I'm not going to give a sneak peek of this chapter because I am SO excited for you guys to read it. I know I say this all the time but THIS is my favorite chapter yet, trust!

“Do you guys wanna play Spin the Bottle?” Ochako asks excitedly.

I jump slightly, like I was caught doing something wrong. The light from the door and her voice interrupts the stillness I was just savoring. And, maybe it is a little suspicious being out here alone with Katsuki. 

“Hard no.” Katsuki sits up.

She rolls her eyes and leans against the door frame, “Except we’re playing heads or tails, too!”

My eyes widen.

“Heads or tails?” I ask.

Ochako’s eyes are pure mischief, “Heads is just a kiss, tails is ‘Seven Minutes in Heaven’!”

I laugh, “I have never heard of this game.”

“Because I just now made it up. The power of alcohol, am I right? Come on, it'll be fun!” Ochako smiles.

I look at Katsuki, silently asking him what he thinks. His gaze is skeptical, silently telling me absolutely not.

I think on it for a second. 

“I’m in,” I say. 

“Yay! Let me grab some more people and let’s find a place to do it!” Ochako practically skips off as she turns around, her brown hair bouncing with each step.

I usually wouldn’t agree to something like this, but something about the alcohol in my system gets me to give in. And I can’t stop thinking about Katsuki’s comment earlier. How vehemently he stated he does not like anyone. Are my feelings hurt, or am I relieved he doesn’t have feelings for someone?

More importantly, why should I care?

“You’re going to play? You’re kidding.” His face is incredulous, like I just told him I won the lottery or I can breathe underwater. Complete disbelief.

“It might be fun, you should join,” I say, encouraging him.

“Absolutely not.”

I raise an eyebrow and stand. I reach down, offering my hand.

“Someone scared?” I taunt. 

He glares at me, “Hell no.”

He grabs my hand firmly and pulls himself up, barely tugging on me. It’s obvious he doesn't need my help.

But when he stands, he doesn’t let go of my hand. Instead, he pulls me toward him as he steps forward, grip unrelenting. Chest nearly touching mine. 

“To be clear,” he starts, face inches from mine. His smoldering eyes flit from mine, down to my lips, and back up, “I’m not afraid."

He cocks his head, as if challenging me, "Are you?'

A chill runs through me. Adrenaline. Nerves. And a little something that boils in the bottom of my abdomen. It causes a flush to run through my face and goosebumps to freckle my skin. My breath is stuck in my throat, my body not allowing itself to inhale or exhale. 

He breaks my gaze abruptly, storming into the house without an answer from me. Leaving me to catch my breath on my own.

I dust myself off, swiping at the little pieces of grass stuck to my jeans. I try to mentally sort through what just happened. 

What was that about?

 

+++

 

When I walk inside, I find Ochako ushering people to the middle of the room. The crowd has thinned slightly since Katsuki and I made a detour outside. I didn’t realize we were gone long enough for people to start leaving. Still, the place was packed.

I join the circle, it’s large, giving everyone plenty of options of who they could be paired with. I spot a lot of my friends. Mina, Momo, Ochako, Tenya, Shouto, etc. I see Shindou across the way, and my mood sours. Still, I won’t let his presence ruin my evening.

But was Katsuki right? Was I afraid? And what did he mean by that? 

My head is spinning. From Katsuki’s words and the drink I had consumed earlier. 

We establish who’s playing and who’s not. I sit on the ground with the other players. I spot my roommate across the room, but he’s not looking at me. Katsuki stays on the couch with Denki and Kyouka, opting themselves out. The game starts with Ochako explaining the rules and volunteering to go first. A crowd gathers around us. 

I’m nervous. This really isn’t something I’d usually be comfortable with. I mean, I’ve kissed many guys. But anything further than a handsy makeout is out of my comfort zone at the moment. Not saying I am planning on a casual hook-up tonight, though.

She spins the bottle. As it slows, the end points directly at Sero. Cheering erupts.

She hands him a coin—it’s an old, scuffed quarter, “Alright, flip it and reap your reward!”

Sero flips the coin, voices around us hushing as it spins in the air. It lands on the ground and we all look to see the result.

Heads.

Ochako leans over and Sero meets her halfway, meeting in an innocent peck over the stationary bottle. 

Sero flushes and Ochako giggles. She pushes the bottle to her left, right where Shindou is sitting. My stomach churns.

Please not me please not me please not me.

While the bottle is spinning, I glance at Katsuki. 

He’s already staring. 

His gaze is unreadable. Something between indignation and aloofness. Like he is irritated but also trying not to care at the same time. I look away and hold my breath. 

The bottle spins and spins—and slows.

The bottle points to Camie. The girl who was all over Katsuki earlier.

I can’t help but find the situation ironic. I can finally breathe. Crisis averted.

She flips the coin. Heads.

As they lean towards each other to share a kiss, I chance one more glance at Katsuki.

His face is more relaxed now. He sips from the cold, plastic water bottle in his hand. Again, his crimson gaze finds mine and we share a knowing look. An inside joke. I can see the slight crinkle around his eyes as he drinks. He notices the humor in this situation, too. 

After some giggling from the evidently intoxicated players, Shindou shoves the bottle to the next player on the left. Right to where Eijirou is sitting.

“Your turn, Red!” Sero shouts over the loud music in the background.

He spins the empty bottle, again the crowd hushes as it spins then slows. Slower and slower.

The bottle finally stops—as well as my heart. 

Me. It lands on me.

“Flip for your fate!” Ochako says. 

Shit. My hesitant hand picks up the coin from where it sits after Camie and Shindou’s round. 

I nervously flip it into the air, watching it spin and spin as my heart rate spikes and the world slows around me. 

It lands. 

Tails.

The crowd erupts, jeering and cheering at us. 

“Rules are rules.” Eijirou shrugs and reaches out to me. I grab his hand, his grip steadying me as I stand and the sounds around us get louder. Or is it the blood rushing through my ears? I can’t tell. 

Before I can think, we are pushed into the empty bathroom. Someone shouts, “Seven minutes!” The door clicks, then we’re alone. 

The silence is deafening. Just Eijirou—my roommate’s best friend—and I. The redhead in front of me is handsome enough, but the realization hits me.

He’s not the person I want to be locked in this room with.

“So, um, this is new to me,” he says, scratching the back of his neck.

I’m sure my face is bright red. I shake my head, laughing at myself, “Yeah, me too.”

“Can I be honest?” He says, looking anywhere but at me. We’re standing awkwardly in front of each other. Neither moving to close the gap. 

I fidget with my hands and nod my head, “Go ahead.”

“I’m really sorry but I really only played because there was someone else I was hoping to be with.” He pauses, then continues, “I also… I can’t… I was just letting you know my predicament…”

He stutters over his words, as if he doesn’t know exactly how to let me down. He says it gently, like he’s scared he’s going to hurt my feelings.

I breathe out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God.”

He raises an inquisitive eyebrow. “So, you’re not mad?”

“Not at all,” I lean against the bathroom counter, letting my palms rest on the cool granite. Stress starts to leave my body as I realize he won’t force me to do anything I don’t want to do.

“If you want, we could just talk?” I say, testing the waters.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” he sighs.

“Okay then...” I pry, “Who did you want to get paired with?”

He bites the inside of his cheek, “If I tell you, you gotta keep it to yourself. Only Bakugou knows I like her.” 

I motion an X across my chest, a silent promise of “cross my heart”.

“It’s Mina,” he looks away, lost in thought. “I’ve liked her for so long, I’m just too pussy to do anything about it.”

I'm surprised, “Really?”

“Really. I’m scared that if I cross that line with her, our friendship will never be the same. And right now, I’d rather have her in my life as just a friend than risk losing her.” 

His expression is heartbreaking. I can see the yearning in face. His jaw tightens and he inhales deeply. 

“You’ll never know unless you try,” I say softly.

He doesn’t reply. 

“You can ignore me if you want, but if you never try, you could be missing out on fate.”

“You believe in fate?” Eijirou asks, hopeful.

“I do,” I chuckle. I reflect on my life, the little things that directed me down the path to where I am today. 

“The successes and the failures. The love and the loss. It all points you to where you’re meant to be.”

We sit in silence momentarily as he soaks in my words. 

“Are you quoting a book or something?”

“Nope, just the raw power of my intellect.” I point to my temple jokingly. 

He snorts, “Bakugou was right about you.”

That peaks my interest. My breath catches. 

“What?”

He shrugs, “He just told me that you’re a pretty cool person.”

He talks about me? And compliments me?

Eijirou rambles on, “And the other day, some freshman punk made some gross comments about you and Bakugou scared him so bad I think he pissed himself.”

I fail to pick my jaw off the floor. “He what now?”

“Yep, the asshole said something about the ‘hot athletic trainer' at practice,” He looks away, shying from the topic, “I probably shouldn’t have told you that. Shit.”

I am fully invested now. “Please continue.”

He fidgets awkwardly, “I don’t know, it’s pretty gross.”

“Please, I want to hear what they said,” I gently demand. 

He sighs and runs a hand through his bright hair, “He didn’t know Bakugou was behind him. He was talking to his friends about what he wanted to do to you in the training room. Saying he was going to visit the training room when everyone was gone and…”

I raise an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue. My skin crawls and my heart races at whatever he is about to stay. 

“Keep in mind, he said this, not me,” his face is pink as he looks at me and I nod, urging him to carry on, “He said he wanted to ‘bend you over the tables and have his way with you’. Long story short, Bakugou fucked him up pretty bad. Thankfully the coaches weren’t too mad because he was defending you. The punk is blaming his broken nose on an accident at practice. Too big of a pussy to own up to what he said.”

I don’t know what to think or say. I’m of course embarrassed and angry that some random freshman had vile things to say about me. But on the other hand, my emotions are clouded by the fact Katsuki went so far to defend me. 

“Damn,” is all I say. 

“I'm so sorry.”

“No, don’t be!” I say quickly, “It’s just… I have never had someone defend me like that. He didn’t tell me.”

EIjirou halts, but he gathers his thoughts briefly.

“Bakugou is a lot of things, but he’s loyal. When he cares, he has a hard time showing it sometimes. Opening up to people is not easy for him, but I can see he cares about you.”

I’m at a loss for words. I don’t know what to say or think. I deflect, “He’s just being nice.”

He raises a knowing eyebrow, “Bakugou isn’t known to be ‘nice’, so I think that is an answer enough for you.”

I sit with his words, letting them soak into my skin. I reflect on this past month or so with him. Sure, we’ve grown from strangers to roommates in a matter of days, but I didn’t think that meant much to him.

But it means so much to me. The bookmark. The diner. Him going to this party with me. Our nights watching TV on the couch in comfortable companionship. The meals he’s cooked. The sticky notes around our apartment. His shoes by the door.

Eijirou tilts his head, “He came to this party. He never goes to parties.” 

“He only came because you were coming,” I justify.

“Whatever you say,” he shrugs. His face shows something akin to mischief.

“I gotta ask,” Eijirou continues, “Who did you play for?”

I hesitate and opt to examine the ends of my hair, pretending they're insanely interesting.

“I—”

I don't know how to answer the question. Because in the back of my head, a tiny voice answers Eijirou. A voice I tune out. And that voice confirms something I have been bottling up and ignoring for weeks.

The person I want to be with didn’t even play. 

A knock on the door breaks the tension. Saving me from my thoughts. 

“I forgot we were in here because of that stupid game,” Eijirou laughs. 

“Here, one sec,” I turn around and look in the mirror. I pinch my cheeks and shake my hair in an effort to look like we spent the last seven minutes messing around. My face is already flushed from our conversation about Katsuki, but it’s working out in my favor right now. 

“Are you going to answer my question?” he says.

I shake my head, “Nope.”

He laughs at me and opens the door. There’s jeering and shouting from the crowd around us as we exit the bathroom. The party is still loud, but the music has slowed and most people have migrated to chairs or the floor, talking with friends or cuddling with their partners. I can't help but search the room. I hope to find crimson eyes and blond hair, but I am unsuccessful.

Where is Katsuki?

 

+++

 

The game lasts a few more rounds. Every pair lands on heads, making Eijirou and I the only ones who landed on tails. The circle disperses, most everyone searches for more alcohol—myself included. After grabbing a new cup, this time filled with Denki’s potent concoction, I find Momo talking to Ochako. 

“Girl! How was it with Kirishima?” Ochako’s curious smile is contagious, her pink cheeks lighting up any room. 

“Um, it was fine!” I say, distracted, looking around the room. I can’t find my grumpy roommate anywhere. 

The lights and music are distracting me. I’m overstimulated by everything. The noise, the people, and the conversation I just recently had. I want to see Katsuki. I want to ask about what happened at practice. I want to thank him. 

More than anything, I want to know why he cared so much. 

My head spins. Denki's drink is strong. Ochacko—the social butterfly that she is—wanders away from Momo and I. I use the opportunity to talk to my closest friend.

“Do you know where Bakugou is?” I ask Momo.

She shakes her head, dark hair moving with the motion, “Nope, maybe he left?”

“I hope not, I drove him,” I say, to her and myself. 

I pull out my phone and text him.

ME: “Where are you?”

I stare at my screen, waiting for a reply. I get none. He’s not a fast texter anyways, so I tuck my phone back in my pocket and pretend to not be distracted. 

Five minutes pass, then fifteen, then forty-five. I’m checking my phone constantly, staring at my message paired with no reply. I finished my drink awhile ago. My head is fuzzy. I decide I’m going to go home, maybe someone gave him a ride. Hopefully he’ll be there. I pull out my phone to get an Uber, knowing it was probably not safe for me to drive. 

I say bye to Momo and my other friends and push myself out the door. I drank a little more than I thought. My thoughts are scrambled and my body has a warm hum. My head is buzzing as I worry about my roommate. 

Was he upset? Did something happen? Why did he step out? I need to find him.

I make it out the door and I instantly see him. 

He’s sitting on the porch steps, leaning back casually. He's talking to Denki and Kyouka. Kyouka is sitting on the step in front of her boyfriend, leaning back between his legs while his arms are wrapped around her shoulders.

I’m instantly caught and all three of them turn to look at me.

Shit. At least I found Katsuki.

“Sorry.” I say, embarrassed I'm interrupted them, “I’ll go back inside.”

Kyouka waves me off, “You’re fine! Denki and I were just leaving.”

“We were?” he asks.

She stands, pulling her boyfriend up with her and giving him a pointed look.

“Oh! Right! See you guys!” Denki spits out quickly as they push past me and go inside the busy house.

The door shuts behind them. Katsuki is looking off the porch towards the street.

I approach slowly, working up the courage to talk to him. 

“Hi.”

He says nothing. I step forward and lower myself to the step. Our legs nearly touch as I sit. 

“Katsuki?” I say gently.

“What?” I hear. His voice is blunt and low.

“Are you ready to go?” I ask softly.

He huffs and retorts sharply, “I’ve been ready.”

The cold words sting a little.

He stands to go to my car, not bothering to wait for me. He’s only a step in front of me, but I don't want to chase him down. I stand up fast.

Too fast. 

The alcohol percentage in my blood is a little high. And I definitely should have started drinking water a while ago. Because I get hit with a wave of dizziness and stumble.

I let out a yelp as I feel my foot miss a step. 

Before I can fall face first on the stairs, strong arms catch me. 

“You’re a mess," he says. 

I feel the vibration of his voice run through me. I realize I am not laid out on the concrete, but held tightly to his chest. His arms wrapped around my unsteady frame. 

“Give me your keys,” he grumbles.

I giggle. Okay, I’m definitely tipsy, “Thanks for catching me, Dynamight.”

He groans, “Give me your keys so I can get your drunk ass home.”

“Hey,” I push myself off of him, poking his solid chest, “I’m only drunk because I’m mad at you.”

He raises a skeptical eyebrow, “Mad at me?”

“Yes!” I huff, “You wouldn’t play Spin the Bottle with us!”

My keys are already in my hand since I was planning on leaving. Katsuki spots them and snatches them out of my grasp.

“Good hell, can you walk on your own or do I have to carry you?”

I grin and cock my head, “I can walk just fine. But you can carry me if you want.”

His eyes narrow and he studies me. Shaking his head, he says, “Let’s go.”

Surprisingly, I walk steadily to my car. I open the door and enter, click my seatbelt in place, and get situated in the passenger seat. Damn, I guess I didn’t know how comfortable this seat was. 

Katsuki enters the driver side, turning my key in the ignition. My car softly roars to life, my phone connecting instantly and playing a slow song. It's quiet. Barely audible. I think it's "Apocalypse" by Cigarettes After Sex. 

The bumps in the road lull me, rocking me and causing my body to melt into the seat. Sooner than I realize, we’re already back at the apartment. I’m drowsy, my eyes feeling heavy as I try to get out of the car. 

“You slept the whole way, nerd.” Katsuki says. But it’s not from the driver’s seat. It’s from my open car door. He reaches over me and unlocks my seatbelt. 

“I’m tired,” I yawn. 

“I’m aware,” he growls. Before I can protest, I feel his arms reach under me. One arm under my back, hand gripping my waist, and the other under my legs. 

His body is firm. Solid. Muscular. Am I perverted for liking this? Probably. 

“You’re strong, Katsuki,” I sigh sleepily. I don't fight him when he lifts me easily.

“I know,” he says. Deadpan. Blunt. Confidence mixed with irritation. Very serious and matter-of-fact. 

My arms are wrapped around his neck. I feel the soft skin of the nape of his neck under my fingertips. We’re at the door, and he effortlessly unlocks it without wavering his hold.

One of my hands drifts and plays with his chain. My fingers touch the cold metal, and then they accidentally stroke the sensitive skin at the base of his neck, right where his shirt collar ends.

He tenses. I hear his breath catch. 

“I like this,” I say. Softly. I let my finger slip under the metal chain, lifting it from where it rests. I examine the tiny links closely, leaning in closer. He smells so good. Like caramel and cologne. Addicting. 

He swallows. Body stiff and poised.

Before I know it, we’re in my dark bedroom. He lowers me gently to my bed, the soft mattress welcoming me with open arms. I'm sitting now. I reach up rub my eyes. I’m so tired. I hear a click, and the darkness is interrupted by the soft glow of my bedside lamp. I see him straighten from where he bent to turn it on. His eyes drifts to my nightstand, locking on the bookmark sitting there. The one he gave me. 

He sighs, “You should go to bed.” 

He turns on his heel, but I stop him.

“Katsuki.”

Silence. He is turned away from where I sit. I see the muscles of his back under his clothes. Solid. Taut. 

I push on, “You left.”

He stays still, but his head turns slightly, aiming his words over his shoulder. 

“No I didn’t.”

“You were outside the house. I thought you left me.”

“And?” his voice blunt.

“And I couldn’t find you.” I perch myself on the edge of my bed precariously, palms pressed against the bed.

“So?” He slowly turns to look at me.

“So I was worried,” I confess, tucking my hands under my legs and rocking on the edge of my mattress.

He scoffs, “You were busy, surprised you even noticed.”

The words have a bite to them, and I feel the sting like a slap. I tilt my head at him and purse my lips, letting my hair fall over my shoulder. 

“Of course I noticed.”

He says nothing. He’s obviously bothered by something. I don’t know what it is or what I did, but he was even more distant than usual.

I cut the silence. “Eijirou told me what happened at practice. With the freshman.”

That gets his attention, but for the wrong reason.

“When did he have time to say that? Considering you guys were busy doing whatever in that fucking bathroom,” he snaps at me.

I look away from him, letting my eyes wander to my lap. So that’s what’s bothering him.

Is he… jealous?

“We didn’t kiss. We didn’t even touch.”

He says nothing.

I carry on, “He told me he only played the game because he was hoping he would get paired with Mina, and I told him I wasn’t really wanting to participate anyways. So we just… talked.” I shrug my shoulders.

“I didn’t ask for an explanation,” he mumbles. 

“Yet I’m giving you one, because I can’t help but think you’re mad at me.”

“Not everything is about you,” he snaps.

I hesitate, again being stung by his sharp words. I remind myself of what Eijirou said earlier, about how Katsuki has never been good with feelings. Or communication. 

“Then why did you leave?” I half whisper, but it's loud enough for him to hear. 

He sighs and scrubs a hand down his face, his angry expression falling.

“I didn’t want to go anyways, I don’t know why you’re surprised.”

I sigh, my patience being tested. I stand now and step forward, just a foot away from him. I’m right infront of him, but he’s still not looking at me. He stares at the wall, fists clenched. Jaw tight. I decide to go back to my previous statement.

“Anyways, I wanted to thank you. For standing up for me, that is.”

He shrugs and finally looks at me, those scarlet eyes unreadable.

“It’s nothing.”

“But it’s something to me,” I say, not letting up. “I’m independent to a fault, and I’m always used to defending myself. I’ve never had someone stand up for me. And it’s… nice.”

His eyes are dark, swimming with something I can't pin down. “I didn’t like the way he was talking about you. That’s all.”

I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I shut it, chewing on the inside of my cheek while I gather my thoughts. 

“You care.” I finally say softly. I didn’t mean it as a question, but it lands like one. The drive back must have sobered me up a little. I feel my thoughts becoming more coherent. More cohesive and formed. 

He rolls his eyes and averts his gaze, but I can see the blush on his cheeks, “No I don’t.” 

That makes a small grin grow on my lips. “Sure, whatever you say.” 

My body feels lighter but heavier at the same time. I tilt my head. One weight lifts while a new one lands on my shoulders. A feeling that there's something here. Something between him and I. Small, fragile, and innocent. 

I see his face swim with a million different emotions. None of which I can decipher. He groans and runs a hand through his hair.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" He says softly. The words aren't harsh, but benign.

The words should hurt my feelings, but they don't. Instead they warm me from the inside out. Tying a knot around my heart and squeezing it tight.

I dip my head and raise a brow, I'm taunting him now.

"How so?" 

He shakes his head. Expression focused and distracted all at once, he searches for the words, but can’t find them. 

“I just… I don’t know…” 

I can tell he’s conflicted, but I can also tell he’s trying. It softens my heart. I take a step closer, he doesn’t flinch away. 

He locks eyes with me, and I offer him a soft smile. 

“Here’s what I know,” I start. “I know you went to a party that you didn’t want to go to. I know you woke me up because you knew I wanted to go. I know you got me away from Shindou. I know you drive me home and even carried me here. I know you stood up for me when I wasn’t even there.” I reach up and tap his nose, playfully. He blinks at the touch, but doesn't look away. His gaze intense, his stare flicking back and forth between my eyes.

I gently finish, “And I know it may not mean anything to you, but it means something to me.”

The room stands still as I wait for him to answer. Wait for the words to settle. All the oxygen is sucked from the air. I laid it out for him—the way his actions made me feel. 

Every day, he shows me a small amount of vulnerability. A sliver of kindness and warmth he tucks away and hides from the world. And every day I want to know more and more about Katsuki Bakugou.

My heart beats furiously, awaiting his reaction. 

I can’t stand the tension, so I look away. But as soon as I do, I feel his stare, branding my skin with its attention.

His voice is low and soft, the words meant only for my ears.

“I’m sorry.” His jaw is tight. 

“It’s alright,” I offer gently, still avoiding his gaze. 

He sighs deeply, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m not good at this,” he says, a self deprecating laugh escaping his lips. 

“At what?” I give him a small smile and meet eyes with him, searching for whatever he was trying to say. 

This is probably the closest we’ve ever been to each other, physically and emotionally. I let my gaze wander to his features. His sharp jaw, his pale hair, his pink lips and scarlet eyes that constantly steal my attention. My stomach flips and my heart squeezes. He is so handsome. As superficial as it is, I could stare at him for hours and never get sick of it.

He shrugs, “I’m not a good communicator. I never have been.” 

“Well, we’ve only lived together for a short while, yet you’ve made leaps and bounds from our first day in this place. That’s enough progress for me.”

He lets the words sit, settling into the quiet of my room. 

Before he can speak, I say. “You’re trying, and that’s what matters. It matters to me.”

His expression is loaded but blank at the same time. He is usually difficult to read, but especially now. I fear I said too much. I have always been too emotional and too honest, to a fault. 

“I think I’m going to shower and go to bed.” I say, stretching and covering my mouth in a yawn. I feel less tipsy than before, but it doesn't mean I’m not a little drunk.

Which is probably why I giggle and say, “I can’t believe I played Spin the Bottle and didn’t even get a kiss.”

He gapes at me, and I feel the weight of all the embarrassment in the world land on me. I wish I could rewind and take back the words, but here we are. I feel my face get hot, instantly taken aback by my own boldness. From the words that escaped my mouth.

And then his hands grab my face. Soft but steady. A palm on both sides. Thumbs brushing over my flushed cheeks. Gently. Tenderly. Like if he is too rough I’ll shatter into a million pieces.

Which doesn’t matter. Because he kisses me.

And I do.

I shatter.

Like starlight. Like broken glass. Like a wave beating rocks on a shore.

Every part of me becomes weightless. Microscopic. Floating away into nothingness. 

I let myself lean into him. My hands falling onto his solid chest. I can feel his heartbeat under my palms, the rate just as rapid as mine. The warmth of his body is intoxicating.

His lips are soft. Warm. Flush against mine in something so tender and gentle I want to sob. His hands cradle my face, caging me in a gentle hold. Holding me together as his lips slowly move, deepening the kiss.

My heart is on the brink of explosion. Body on the edge of collapse. A small moan escapes my throat, but I’m too entranced to care.

It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. Every ounce of desire and passion and blatant want threatening to implode in my chest. It’s exploratory and slow, the way our lips fit together. Tentative.

And it seems that just as quick as his lips touch mine, they leave.

When my eyes flutter open, he’s still there. It wasn’t a dream, it was real. 

His eyes hold so much intensity, I can barely stand it. So many things unsaid. So much in his expression. His chest rises and falls, steady and heavy as he catches his breath. 

He finally speaks. His voice low and gravelly. Not truly spoken but not a whisper. 

“You’re so needy."

His eyes flit down to my lips, and his thumb timidly brushes against my bottom lip. My flesh there is hot and fevered from our shared kiss. My eyes never leave his handsome, flustered face. 

His cheeks are pink. Pupils blown. Showing obvious shock that we both share.

“Go to bed,” he whispers, and then he’s gone. 

My door clicks shut. And I stand there, gawking at what the hell just happened. 

Holy shit.

Katsuki just kissed me.

Notes:

I was giggling screaming kicking my feet writing this chapter. PLEASE tell me what you think!!!!!!!!

Chapter 12: strawberries and scary movies

Summary:

“Go to bed, nerd,” he says. The last word has no bite, only affection. His lips tilt in a smirk, "I'll see you tomorrow."

It takes a few seconds for my brain to remember how to speak.

I sigh and give him small smile, “Goodnight, Katsuki.”

It takes a beat or two, but he ever so slowly releases me. With one final, yearning gaze, he opens his door and slips into his room.

Notes:

the AO3 downtime had me stressed

sorry for the delay I was with family and friends for the holiday, if you're in the USA I hope you had a safe and happy 4th of July! if you're not, I hope you are having a great weekend :)

this is my longest chapter so far, so enjoy. my TikTok (@sukunas_20_fingers_) has a post with a mood board and playlist for this chapter. feel free to reference it if you want!

until next time :)

My head is killing me, my pulse throbs in my temples, and I feel terrible.

I toss in bed, rolling over in my sheets to stare at this ceiling. Last night kicked my ass.

Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. Last night.

Katsuki kissed me.

My heart jolts as I remember the events of last night. First it was Katsuki saving me from Shindou, then Spin the Bottle, then him taking me home and carrying me into my room. Then the kiss. 

It was charged. Electric. Full of something. 

Did it mean something to him? Or was it his way of getting me to stop whining?

But I felt it. It. Something growing between us. Unnamed and undefined. But, does he feel it, too?

It’s Sunday. I look at my phone and internally gasp when I see it’s almost noon. I really slept that long? I must have been exhausted. 

I need to shower. After Katsuki had left my room, I fell asleep fast, not bothering to even take off my makeup or brush my hair. Now, I hesitantly open my door, listening to see if Katsuki is home. 

I hear nothing, so I slip out and head straight into the bathroom. Especially now, I’m glad I chose the room closest to the bathroom when we moved in. Was it really that long ago? 

I look like I got hit by a truck. My hair is disheveled. Mascara smeared. Eyes puffy. Thank God I didn’t run into my roommate this morning or I would have died of embarrassment. 

The tiles of the shower echo the pattering of the water. I step into the running water, the warmth soaking into my bones. As I wash my hair, I realize I’m going to have to face Katsuki at some point. What am I going to say? Do I ask him about the kiss? Do I pretend like it didn’t happen?

We live together. I’m going to have to face him at some point. 

I decide I’ll do it tonight when I see him. I don’t know where he is, so maybe I’ll make dinner and text him to come home. Find some excuse to bring it up and figure out why he kissed me. And if he would please do it again and again.

I finally finish my shower. I feel like a whole new person thanks to my clean, shaven legs and freshly washed hair. I dress quickly in a tank top and some pajama shorts, they’re baby pink with little peaches on them. I open the door to let the residual steam escape out as I blow dry my hair. 

When I leave the bathroom, I still don’t see Katsuki. I peek around the house. The kitchen and living room are empty, and his shoes by the door are gone. I can’t help but feel a little disappointed. I think a part of me was looking forward to seeing him.

Scratch that, I know a part of me was looking forward to seeing him. 

That voice in the back of my head is getting louder—the one that tells me I really enjoy Katsuki’s presence. The one that tells me I like him around. I want him around. His grumpiness, his attitude, his rare smiles and gentleness. 

After last night, I can’t ignore it. That kiss lit a fire in me. But what do I do about it? Do I tell him I’m feeling something? Even though I don’t know if I can define what that something is. All I know is it’s real and growing. 

I make my way back to my room and find my phone buzzing. 

MOMO <3: "What are you up to today?" 

Me: "Absolutely nothing. Please save me from my boredom." 

MOMO <3: "Don’t have to ask me twice. Meet you at your place in hour?"

Me: "Yes ma'am. What do you have planned?"

MOMO <3: "It's a surprise!"

Me: "Fiiiiine. What’s the vibe?"

MOMO <3: "Hmmm… cottage core?" 

Me: "Interesting… I’m in." 

I click my phone off and instantly start getting ready. I search my closet for something that matches Momo’s suggested aesthetic. I opt for a cream blouse with tiny yellow flowers and a butter yellow cardigan. I pair it with a flowy, long white skirt. I curl my already dried hair and throw on my makeup, adding a little extra just because. As I’m swiping lip gloss on my lips, I hear a knock on the door.

I grab my things—purse, phone, keys, chapstick—and meet Momo at the door.

“Wow, are we twins or what?” she says with a wide smile. Her thick, black hair is straight and flowing down her back. She’s wearing a skirt nearly identical to mine, but has a red top on.

I grin, “Almost like we planned it or something.”

She leads me to her car, and as we get in she hands me the aux cord. My unofficial job when I’m in her car is to DJ. She says she’s too busy to find new music, so she relies on me to expose her to new stuff. In all honesty, I think she is just kind and wants me to listen to what I want. 

I click shuffle on my phone, and “Cross My Mind” by Shelly starts playing. One of my new favorites. 

“So, where are we off to?” I ask as I click my seatbelt into place.

“I already told you, it’s a surprise!” she says as she adjusts her mirrors.

+++

We soon arrive at our destination. It’s a large park not too far from UAU. Green, manicured grass lies littered with large, ancient trees before us. The thick foliage casts shadows on the ground, shading everything beneath from the harsh afternoon sun. Rows and rows of canopy tents are set up on the grass, tables overflowing with fruits, vegetables, flowers, etc. There are some booths of handmade things—jewelry, keychains, crochet totes. There are kids playing tag a little away from the tents. As we pull into our parking spot, I see a large sign that reads “Sunday Farmer’s Market, open 12PM-6PM.”

“How did you find this place?” I ask as we get out of her car. 

She shuts her door and locks her car, the horn beeping once. “My mom told me about it. It’s an afternoon market so people can sleep in and enjoy their Sunday mornings. Cute, huh?”

“It’s adorable,” I say genuinely.

We approach the stalls, stopping at each one to gander over what is being sold. It smells heavenly. The scent of fresh baked bread, whipped honey, goat milk lotion, and lavender soap fills my nostrils. There’s a booth selling red, ripe strawberries. Momo and I stop, searching for the best ones to take home.

“Did you get home okay last night? You never answered my text.” Momo asks, interrupting our quiet browsing.

Crap, I never checked in with her after I left the party. I remember now that she had texted me last night, but I forgot to answer. Thankfully, she has my location, so I know she was able to see I was home. 

I hand the person selling the fruit some money and take a small container of strawberries in exchange. We move on, walking aimlessly. 

I say, “I’m so sorry for not answering your text! Last night was so crazy, it totally slipped my mind.”

“I don’t blame you, those seven minutes with Kirishima must have been pretty wild.” She winks at me.

My stomach flips. Oh. I never told her. 

My hand flies up and covers my mouth. 

“Momo. I have to tell you something.”

She cocks her head at me, confused. Her long hair shifting with the movement. I grab her arm and pull her to an empty space between booths where we would have some privacy.

“Please forgive me for being a terrible friend and not telling you until now.”

Her eyes widen, “What are you talking about?”

I steady myself and take a deep breath, “I never kissed Kirishima, I kissed Bakugou.”

Her jaw nearly fell to the grass.

“You what? ” she said, her voice raising with surprise and shock. 

I shake my head, nearly incredulous. It’s hard to believe it actually happened.

“When we got home last night, he kissed me.”

Her eyes are wide as saucers, completely in disbelief.

“I can’t believe it… How was it? Did you like it? I need details now! ” she says, her words spilling out of her.

I fidget with the container of berries in my hand, my head swimming. 

“That’s the problem, Momo. I liked it. A lot.” I recount the events of our kiss to her, sparing her no details.

Her eyes are wide. She grabs a piece of hair and starts twisting it, her nervous tick. “Do you like him that way?”

I pause, thinking long and hard. I’ve been battling this feeling since this assignment started. It all happened so fast.

“I think I do.”

She gasps and grabs me by the shoulders excitedly, “This is so exciting! You guys live together and like each other? What a dream!”

“Momo,” I shake my head, “I don’t think he feels that way about me.”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Why do you say that?”

“I just…” I sigh, “I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“He kissed you, didn’t he? That has to mean something. It’s Bakugou. He isn’t a player. He is—sorry to say—very self-centered, so it’s not like he kissed you out of pity. He did it because he wanted to.”

I look deeply into my friend's dark eyes, knowing she would never lie to me, “You really think so?”

“Absolutely.” Momo releases her grip on my shoulders, giving me some space. 

“But we live together, and it’s going so well so far. I don’t want to mess up what we have already.”

“He is the one who kissed you. So you won’t be messing up anything.”

I slowly nod, letting the words sink into my brain as I try to make sense of her rationale.

“I like him,” I admit, half to Momo and half to myself.

I did it. I admitted it—out loud. I verbalized what I have been suppressing, I put the words out into the universe.

She tilts her head and smirks affectionately, almost maternally, “Then tell him.”

I shake my head aggressively, “I can’t! At least, not now. I have to be sure.”

“It’s okay to take your time. I didn’t mean you have to tell him right this instant. He just kissed you yesterday. Maybe he needs to sort through his feelings, too. Just let it bloom naturally. Spend more time with him and see where it goes.”

I let out a breath, willing my body to calm itself and not go into fight-or-flight. It’s true, I like him. But I’m also terrified. Terrified that he will reject me. Terrified it won’t work out. We have to stay together in that tiny apartment until May if we want to graduate. I can’t risk my entire degree on a crush.

But if it’s more than a crush, and it turns into more than a fling…

No. I can’t get my hopes up. 

Momo and I wander the market a little longer. I decided to buy a tote bag to carry all my things. It’s adorable, “Sunday Farmer’s Market” in a handwritten, Trader Joe's style font dances on the canvas, as well as small, hand painted berries and flowers. We find some teenage girls selling fruit themed keychains, and Momo and I decide to buy some. At the end of mine sits a tiny, glass bead shaped like a peach, and Momo’s has a glass strawberry. We take pictures of them and both post them on our stories, tagging @sunday.farmers.market. I also bought some hand soap and a honey lip balm, peach flavored of course. I guess I didn't realize how much I gravitate toward peach flavored and/or themed things until now. 

I find a booth with wooden, miscellaneous things. Cutting boards, spoons, bowls, etc. There’s a man running the booth, probably a few years older than me and stern looking. There's a sign in the back—engraved in wood of course—that says “Kamui Woods”.

“Can we stop here for a second?” I ask Momo. 

She stops, allowing me some time to browse his things. In reality, I didn’t have to browse much. On the corner of one of the tables, I spot the object that pulled me here.

A pair of drumsticks. They’re beautifully crafted, obviously handmade with perfection in mind. The wood is stained and the handles are black with an orange X on both. They remind me of someone.

“Excuse me, how much for those?” I ask. 

+++

A few hours later, I finally come home. My day with Momo was much needed and we ended the day by grabbing food on our way home, satiating our growling bellies. The sun was starting to set now, casting an egg yolk color on the horizon. I push myself through the door, hands overflowing with bags and all sorts of goodies I found today. I immediately hear voices from my living room, alerting me that I’m not alone.

I see Eijirou and Mina first, they’re sitting on the couch, watching some Youtube video or streamer or both, I can’t tell. 

“Hi!” Mina says, standing up to greet me.

“Here, let me help you!” Eijirou jumps up and comes over to me, helping me unload my overflowing arms. 

“Thank you,” I say with a sigh of relief. I push my hair back, tucking it behind my ears and out of my face. 

“What are you guys up to?” I ask. I walk over to the sink and start busying myself with washing the strawberries I bought.

“We were about to go to the movies. Bakugou is getting dressed then we'll head out.” Eijirou says.

Bakugou. My stomach flips at his name.

“Oh my God, you should totally come!” Mina exclaims.

Eijirou nods his head enthusiastically with her, “You should!”

“Oh, I couldn’t!” I say. I know they’re just inviting me to be nice.

Mina doesn’t let up. “You should! It’ll be fun! She should come, right Bakugou?”

I see him then, emerging from the hall. He’s pulling his hoodie on, sliding the cotton over his ribs and abdomen. My heart stutters.

“She can do what she wants, Mina,” he says flatly, not looking at me.

It’s the first time I’ve seen him since the kiss. My stomach twists—that fluttering feeling of nerves and excitement. I feel like a teenager seeing their crush at school. Twitterpated and awkward. 

“I mean, I’d love to… but don’t invite me out of obligation!” I say, trying to smooth over the awkwardness. I would hate to intrude. 

Katsuki rolls his eyes, “Just grab your stuff.”

“Yay! Kiri, let’s go start the car!” Mina says, embracing me in a quick hug and releasing me, “I’m so excited!”

She ushers Eijirou to follow her, he chuckles and exits with her quickly. Before I can say anything, the door shuts and I’m alone with Katsuki.

A beat of silence. The last time I saw him, his lips were on mine. The memory makes my heart race. 

“Hi,” I squeak out. 

He’s wearing shorts and a dark hoodie. Navy and white high top Vans. I can tell he just showered because I can smell his body wash and cologne from here. Plus, I think his hair is slightly damp from how it falls across his forehead.

“Hi,” he says.

I dry my hands quickly on the hand towel by the sink. “Give me one second and I’ll be ready.”

“Need help?” he says as he approaches me. I remember my bags on the counter have a present for him, so I snatch them up quickly.

“Nope! Just one second!” I scurry past him to my room so I can hide the drumsticks I bought him. I need to find a good time to give them to him, but I don’t know when. 

I am hurrying around my room, pushing the bags into a random drawer. From my periphery, I see Katsuki. He’s leaning on the door frame of my room, arms crossed and face smug.

He snorts, “You’re a mess.”

I chuckle at myself, “Oh, I’m well aware.”

He looks so handsome—casually leaning in my doorway and staring at me with those scarlet eyes. Be still my heart. 

I slam my drawer shut before he can see what’s in my bag. When I do, my dresser shakes and one of my perfume bottles and a picture frame topple over. 

“ Shit, ” I say under my breath. I scramble to fix what fell over. I really am a mess. I straighten everything out and let out a sigh. I turn quickly, but almost run into a broad chest.

Katsuki is right next to me now. In my frantic stress, I didn’t realize he had approached me.

I look up at him, his body so close to mine. His eyes glitter with a mix of humor and entertainment.

“Are you done?” he says with a raised, amused eyebrow.

I laugh at myself, shaking my head, “Hopefully.” 

He looks at me intently. Studying my features. “Are you ready to go?”

I’m captivated by his face, remembering the last time he was this close to me in my room. “Yeah.”

He clears his throat, “Um, let’s go.”

We make it to Kirishima’s car. The—unsurprisingly red—Camry is thumping bass loudy. When I open my door, I hear “Blackout” by Breathe Carolina playing. Eijirou and Mina are singing along, I slide into the back seat, Katsuki doing the same. We exchange a look, both of us shaking our heads in amusement. 

I lean over to him so he can hear me over the loud music. “What movie are we going to see?” I ask.

Katsuki speaks into my ear, “You should have asked that a long time ago, nerd.”

His lips are so close to my ear, I swear they touch my sensitive skin. A chill runs through me. 

I pull back and look at him, “What does that mean?”

His face is pure mischief, “You’ll see.”

He’s happier than usual. Well, maybe he’s just showing it better. Or maybe I know him and his personality better.

We pull up to the theater, the sun is almost done setting over the horizon and illuminates the sky in an orange, honey color. When we walk inside, Mina takes out her phone and shows a QR code to the worker. Four tickets are printed from the little printer by the register. She hands me mine, and I realize what Katsuki meant now when I read the movie’s title. I really should have asked which movie we were seeing before committing to going out with them.

“They’re doing horror specials until Halloween, fun right?” She beams at me, “We should come every week! Kiri, let’s go get slushies!”

“Katsuki!” I whisper as a giggling Mina practically skips in front of us with Eijirou, “I absolutely cannot do this.”

“What? Can’t handle a little scary movie?” he taunts, challenging me. 

I shoot him a glare, half serious and half joking, and say, “You know I don’t like scary movies.”

“I do,” he says, “and I also know that we can sneak into the next screening room if you want.”

I pause and stop in my tracks. What did he just say?

I tilt my head, “You would do that?”

He shrugs, lackadaisical. Like it’s not a big deal at all.

“Yeah, I would.”

“But you love scary movies!” I insist. My chest squeezes from his kindness. He would really do this for me? Even if it meant leaving his friends?

“But you don’t,” he levels me with a serious stare, reading my expression.

A flutter in my ribs, trapped beneath my sternum. I shake my head, “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering.”

He’s so kind in his own way. Thoughtful. Patient. God, I wanna kiss him again.

I nod in an effort to convince him and myself, “I can handle it. No promises I’ll keep my eyes open, though.”

He raises his eyebrow, quizzical, “You sure?”

I smile, “Positive, plus I don’t want to get in trouble for theater hopping.”

His eyes light up, he snorts and shakes his head. “Come on.”

We buy popcorn to share. I giggle and smile brightly when I see how much butter he puts on it, a man after my own heart. I steal the bucket from him and pop a buttery, salty handful into my mouth. He lets out a small huff of an exhale, a half-hearted laugh. We enter the dark screening room and spot Mina and Eijirou. We climb the stairs, our seats near the back of the theater. Katsuki sits next to Eijirou, and I sit on the other side if Katsuki. My heart is racing for multiple reasons, but especially because of the impending movie.

The lights turn off and the ads on the screen halt, dimming to a point where the only light in the room comes from the red exit sign. The people around us all hush as the movie opens. Ominous music, dark forest, creepy sounds. My skin is already crawling. Maybe I was over confident. There’s very quickly a jump scare. I squeak and hide my face behind the popcorn. 

I hear Katsuki chuckle lightly and whisper, “Come here.”

He reaches around me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and pulling me close. He’s warm, comforting. I let myself lean into him. His hand holds tightly to me, grounding me.

I don’t move, frozen with excitement from his touch—and trepidation from the movie. 

About halfway through the movie I’m doing okay. I’m distracting myself by eating popcorn and focusing on Katsuki’s touch. His smell, his warmth, the rise and fall of his breaths. I feel his hand as it stays wrapped around me and resting on the outside of my arm. His thumb rubs small circles on my cardigan, the sensation soothing my nerves but also setting my heart ablaze.

One particular scare catches me completely off guard. I yelp—embarrassingly loud—and grip onto him tightly. I’m glad I set the popcorn down earlier on the empty seat beside me, because my shaking hands clutch his hoodie. He snorts and pulls me even closer, his hand moving from my arm to my waist. When I had jumped, I leaned into him so much the bottom of my shirt rode up. Now as his hand moves down, I feel his fingertips as they breach the hem and rest gently on my bare skin above my hip. He removes his hand instantly and pulls back slightly.

I hear his whisper under his breath, “Sorry.”

“No, no,” I stop him, pulling myself closer, “It’s… okay.”

He leans his head down, whispering in my ear so we don’t disturb anyone around us. 

“We can go if you want.”

I shake my head abruptly, “I’m not a quitter.”

He looks at me, reading my expression. The light from the screen dimly beams on his face, I see the corner of his mouth tilt in a half smile. And he looks away, back at the screen. His grip on me is still loose and his hand returns to my shoulder, so this time I take the initiative.

My nervous hands unravel from the fabric, but I still hold onto him. Now, I let my hand wander. It sneaks across his front, over his chest and stops where it rests on his ribs. Even through his clothes, I can feel the striations of his muscles under my touch. I tentatively squeeze closer, letting my arm encircle his torso as I squeeze myself closer, hugging myself to his body. 

My head rests on the side of his chest, and I can hear his heartbeat where my ear is pressed to him. His heart thumps, fast and steady. 

It’s blatant—my touch. Purposeful. Wordlessly saying you can hold me, too, you know. And almost as if he hears my silent thoughts, he pulls me tighter. His arm had stayed around me, but now his hand returns to where it was resting on my waist. Now, when his fingertips touch my soft skin, he doesn’t shy away. Instead, his fingertips dance across the small stretch of skin that peeks from the hem of my shirt. The small circles from his touch have my heart racing—igniting my skin in a searing heat. Now, I can’t focus on the movie if I try. Good thing I stopped paying attention long ago.

His fingertips and feather-light touch light a fire in my belly. Low and hot. I like his touch, and I never want it to end. 

Except it does. The movie ends, the lights turn on as the credits roll, and Katsuki and I quickly unravel ourselves from each other. I wonder if Mina saw. I don’t mind if she did, but I’m not prepared for her questions. Because, if she asks what just happened, I won’t be able to answer. 

The ride home from the theater is short. Mina and Eijirou banter back and forth about the ambiguous ending while blaring 2000’s party music. They debate whether the main character actually died, or did they survive and the last half of the movie was all a dream. Who knows.

I can't join in the conversation because I hardly paid attention, I was too busy worrying about Katsuki’s wandering touch.

We sit in the backseat, wordless and staring out our respective windows. A comfortable peace. 

When we get back, we say bye to Mina and Eijirou. Mina makes plans to do my nails soon while Eijirou bids Katsuki farewell until he sees him at football tomorrow. I twist my keys in the lock and kick off my shoes, Katsuki following close behind me. 

We’re alone now. Back in our dimly lit living apartment. Back to reality. I head to the kitchen and turn on a light.

“I may need to sleep with the lights on tonight," I say. 

He snorts and takes off his jacket. As he pulls it over his head, his abs peek out from his shirt. I quickly look away before he catches me.

“You’re such a wuss,” he says, but I can tell he doesn’t mean it harshly.

I scrunch my nose up at him, “For that, you have to stay up and watch something with me.”

He whines, “No way. It’s already 10. I have practice in the morning.”

“Too bad. These are the consequences on your actions," I tease.

Dramatically, he groans, but follows me to the couch. I plop myself down and pat the seat next to me.

“Sit, boy,” I say sarcastically.

He snorts and sarcasm is thick on his tongue as he sits on my left, “Whatever, Kagome.”

My eyes widen and my jaw drops, “You’ve seen Inuyasha?”

He shrugs and adjusts, raising and shifting his hips as he sinks into the couch. “Of course.”

I bump him with my knee and chuckle, “Wow, you surprise me every day.”

He raises a skeptical eyebrow, lips pursing, “Meaning?”

“I just never thought you would have watched that show.” I say, I grab the remote and turn the TV on.

“My mom used to watch it when I was younger. I would pretend I wasn’t paying attention, but I couldn’t deny it was pretty good.”

“Oh, that’s what we should watch right now!” I say, quickly typing “I…N…U…” into the search bar to see what would come up. I find it on Netflix and click on the first episode. “I’m going to change, I’ll be right back!”

I hop off of the couch and hustle to my room. I hate to admit it, but at my grown age, I’m still jumpy from the scary movie. I dress myself quickly, throwing on my sleep shorts and a large hoodie I got from a trip many years ago. As I make my way back to the couch, I grab my blanket, too. 

I sit down again where I was previously, but I must have shifted slightly because now I sit right next to Katsuki. Our legs touching. 

I try to distract myself from his touch, but I also don’t want to recoil and move. If anything, I want to be this close to him, but I don’t want to blatantly drape myself over him. I’m still trying to figure out what this is. This tension. This feeling. This knot in my chest and weight in my heart. 

We start the first episode and watch in silence, the pure nostalgia of one of my favorite shows warms me from the inside out. Katsuki’s presence probably helps with that, too. 

I spread the blanket over myself, it's large so it covers all of me, plus has extra to share. Wordlessly, Katsuki grabs part of it and drapes it over his legs. It's so natural and easy, like we do this every day. I smile to myself. 

I could get used to this. I could share all my blankets with him. All my space. All my air. All of it can be his if he wanted.

After a few moments, I readjust myself on the couch to get more comfortable. I use the moment to glance at Katsuki.

He’s slouched a little bit, his feet kicked up on the coffee table. One elbow rests on the arm of the couch, his head propped up in his palm. He’d taken off his hoodie, so now he's in a black t-shirt and light grey gym shorts that ride up his thighs slightly, just enough to where I can see the bottom of his defined thighs—where his tendons attach his muscle and bone. 

The flashes from the TV catch his face just enough to where I can make out the definition of his cheekbones and jaw. The light hits just right to where I see a small scar on his right cheek that I have never noticed before. I guess I’ve never really given myself a chance to admire his features so unabashedly. 

He catches me staring and I glance away quickly, acting innocent.

He smirks, “What?”

I squeeze the top of blanket I’m hugging, shaking my head, “Nothing.”

His eyes narrow, and I fight my blush. 

I sigh, giving in. “Fine. Where did you get that?” I nod, motioning to his face.

“Get what?”

We’re close enough that I don’t have to reach far, the sides of our bodies already touching. “This,” I stretch my hand, letting my index finger swipe the scar—my touch slow and feather-light. 

His skin is soft. So soft, I secretly want to keep my finger there on his cheek and bask in the smooth warmth of his skin. I begrudgingly remove my hand. I don’t realize he’s staring at my face.

“Oh, um,” he now reaches up, his hand brushing the spot I had just touched. His eyes are unfocused as he thinks. Maybe it’s reminiscent.

“I got it in high school,” he huffs an unamused laugh, “Damn, Shigaraki.”

“Shigaraki?”

“Some guy who went to a different school. It was at a football game my senior year. He played dirty. My helmet came off during a play and he pretended to trip over me.” He snorts, “Asshole kicked me in the face with his metal cleats. Sliced my cheek open.”

I tilt my head, flashing a smirk, “You most definitely did not retaliate.” My answer is heavily sarcastic.

He lets out a small, short chuckle, “I most definitely did. I started swinging and Midoriya had to hold me back.” His face falls slightly, his laugh long gone. He shakes his head and grumbles, “I hate that thing, though. It makes me look weak.”

I frown, “Scars don't make you look weak.” 

He rolls his eyes, “Sure do.”

I gaze at him, “They’re reminders that you were stronger than whatever tried to hurt you.”

He turns his head to me, an amused expression on his face, “Cheesy.”

I just shake my head and turn back to the TV, the next episode just starting. The familiar opening plays. 

“Do you have any scars?” He asks after a while. I’m surprised he cares enough to ask. Then again, didn't I just say he surprises me every day?

“A few,” I unfold my legs from under me, stretching out my bare left leg and moving the blanket. “Here.” I point to the small scars on my left knee. 

“I tore my ACL and LCL in high school and had to have surgery,” I let out a self-deprecating snort, “I had an athletic scholarship, so it kinda ruined my plans.”

I tuck my leg back under me. 

“I think that’s what made me fall in love with sports medicine.” I release a small sigh, “I mean, the whole thing sucked. Surgery. Physical therapy. Building all the muscle back. But now my knee feels great. And now I get to pass on what I learned to others going through the same thing.”

He studies me, quiet. A pause, then, “You really are into this stuff, huh?”

“I am. I love it.”

He looks at me sincerely, “Well, you were really helpful when I fucked up my ankle. I’m not sure if I ever thanked you.”

“It’s nothing. I just like what I do.” I brush off his compliment, though I feel myself blush.

He stares at me, sincerity thick in features, “I’ll make it up to you one day.”

I don’t say it out loud, but in my head, I tell him he won’t have to because he already has. Just his presence has healed little parts of me I didn’t know were broken. Turning my fractured bits into a mosaic. Katsuki fills my heart with something so full and wholesome, I fear it may burst.

Is this how you’re supposed to feel around people? I have spent so much of my life worrying about everyone else, that I haven’t stopped to think about me. Until now. 

It kind of scares me, this attachment I’ve formed. Attachment to my hot-headed, stubborn, cocky, dedicated, handsome, thoughtful roommate.

He asks, “Where are you going after all of this? After graduation?”

My stomach drops a little bit, and I hesitate.

“I’m not sure yet,” I say quietly. I hate this question. I hate not having an answer. I fidget with the blanket in my arms, picking at a loose thread.

“Well, you’re good at what you do.” He gives me a small smirk, handsome and soft, “Wherever you go, I’m sure you’ll be saving the world. One sprained ankle at a time.”

He says it casually and off-handed. Like it means nothing. Yet, I feel my whole body warm from his words. 

I beam at him, feeling the blush growing in my cheeks, “Why, thank you.”

+++

We watched a few more episodes in comfortable silence. When I started dozing off, my eyes becoming unbearably heavy, I excused myself for bed. He followed suit, turning off the TV while I switched off the lamp in the corner. 

The house is dark, save for the dim light of our hallway. We both start walking down the hall. I yawn as we approach his door. Before he can escape the hall and enter his room, I stop him.

“Katsuki?” I say, small and shy.

“Hm?” He looks at me. We’re close, so he looks down, eyes red and dark and unraveling the tiny bit of courage I have worked up. I’ve been wanting to bring this up all day, but never got the chance. 

I take a deep breath. Steadying myself and holding tightly to my courage.

“You kissed me last night.” I say the words matter-of-fact. Not a question, just a statement. 

He stares and stares. His eyes widen slightly. I see his jaw tighten, his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“Um, yeah. I did,” he says slowly.

I wring my hands together, heart racing and pulse thundering. Do I want to press on or leave it up to him? 

Another beat passes as I gather my scattered thoughts.

“Do you think…” I start, “you could do it again sometime?”

His face slackens slightly. His features are etched in both concentration and desire as my words soak into him.

He swallows, “I think I can manage that.”

I step forward experimentally. Offering myself. Silently saying now, preferably.

I see the gears turn in his head at my action. His scarlet eyes focused and pupils wide. Him realizing what I'm trying to convey. 

His hand slowly reaches up and grabs my chin, while the other wraps around me and rests low on my back. He lets his eyes flicker across my face, dancing from my lips to my eyes to my cheeks and my nose. With his index finger under my chin and thumb resting on it, he tilts my head slightly, causing my head to turn to the side.

Then, Katsuki moves his hand. Tentatively, he smooths my hair behind my ear and over my shoulder. When the side of my face is clear, he descends. I feel his mouth on my jaw. I gasp lightly. 

His lips press to the corner, right at the sharp angle of my jaw that rests below my ear. It’s innocent and sinful at the same time. It causes butterflies to thunder around my chest, threatening to climb out of my throat, while also igniting hot, white fire that pools in my stomach. A heady want. An overwhelming hunger.

A need.

A shudder dissipates through me, and I’m all too aware of his touch. His left hand is firm on the lower portion of my back—splayed and pressing me to him. Pulling me in tighter so our bodies are flush. The many layers of clothes between us don’t damper the sheer heat of our brazen longing for each other.

His right hand is on the back of my neck. Soft but possessive in its hold. Keeping me positioned where he wants me. His lips are plush as they press against my sensitive skin. Warm and wet. Soused in yearning.

His lips move from the corner of my jaw to the hollow dip below my ear. The press of his mouth sends new wave of heat and want crashing through me. Rapid. Raging. All consuming. 

My hands slowly slide from his abdomen, to his waist, then to his back, pulling him even tighter to me. The tight muscles of his body are firm under my palms. I wonder want they feel like beneath the cotton covering his skin. 

He pulls away slightly, my skin cold from his abandonment.

He is breathing heavily as his eyes meet mine now, and I shiver under his intense stare. Those fucking eyes. I’m inebriated just from his gaze. His heart thumps loudly, echoing through our touching bodies. I think I can even hear it just from being so close to him. Or is that my own pulse? I can't tell. 

The hush of our apartment is filled with the beats of two pounding hearts and our rapid, quiet breaths. 

As we both come back to earth, Katsuki grins slightly and lets his hand grab my jaw again. His thumb brushing my burning cheek.

His voice is soft, the sound and words meant just for me. “Is that enough for you?” I can see the mischief in his eyes, toying with my resolve.

The question set me ablaze. I want more. I can’t come up with a clever response, only the honest truth.

I say it quickly, and attempt to push myself even closer to him, “No.”

I want more. I need more. 

He groans, low and quiet—but I hear it. The rumble is laced with want and desire and restraint.

His eyes move from mine and he watches his hand move my hair again. He pushes it over my shoulder and then his thumb drags down the column of my neck. I shiver.

“Is that enough for now? ” he then says. His voice is so quiet, the only reason I can hear him is due to his lips being inches from mine. So close yet so far.

I catch my breath and after a pause, I finally say, “For now.”

He doesn’t smile. He just stares, holding me so close and so tight, yet I want more. 

And I can tell he does, too. I can see the restraint in his eyes. Feel it in his grip on my body and fingers on my neck. Hesitant. Resisting. Holding himself back.

“Go to bed, nerd,” he says. The last word has no bite, only affection. His lips tilt in a smirk, "I'll see you tomorrow."

It takes a few seconds for my brain to remember how to speak.

I sigh and give him small smile, “Goodnight, Katsuki.”

It takes a beat or two, but he ever so slowly releases me. With one final, yearning gaze, he opens his door and slips into his room.

+++

I am lying on my side, staring at my bedroom wall and reflecting on the events of tonight. His kind words and handsome face. His touch. His lips on the angle of my jaw.

The more I get to know him and spend time with him, the more I realize who he really is. He is genuine and thoughtful. His actions speak louder than his words. He’s sincere, and funny. He makes me look forward to coming home at the end of the day. 

Then there’s his face. It’s so… pretty. He’d probably lose his mind if he knew I used that word to mentally describe him. Clean-cut jaw. Sharp eyes. Irises made of molten garnet. So deep and red I wonder if they stole their color from his blood stream. 

He’s hot. He’s athletic. Muscular and tall. Confident and a little cocky. Every woman on campus obsesses over him. Yet I’m the one who gets to live with him—only a wall separates us right now. I get to see a side of Katsuki Bakugou that no one else gets to.

A part of Katsuki Bakugou is just for me. 

Fuck.

I absolutely, positively, cannot think like this. I shake my head, trying to rid him from my mind. I mean, we’re just roommates. Who have kissed. And, technically twice.

But we’re just roommates. And that’s all we’ll ever be.

Right?

But that’s not what I want. And I wonder if he feels the same. 

Chapter 13: inches between us

Summary:

He swallows. I watch his jaw tighten, “You’re not insignificant."

I take a deep breath, “It’s hard to believe that sometimes.”

His hand takes my jaw gently, his palm warm and soothing on my cheek. He holds my face still as he studies me intently, forcing me to meet his garnet gaze.

He speaks so reverently it’s barely audible, “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

Notes:

OMG 200+ kudos and 3,000+ hits? I freaking love you guys! :3

this chapter deals with some heavy stuff, be warned (post partum depression, divorce, verbally abusive parent, absent parent)

I wrote this chapter hoping to make it sweet and innocent, but as I started writing it just got deeper and deeper.

I hope you guys still like it. There are some precious (and spicy) moments with Katsuki that I loooooove.

anyways, thanks for reading. Kudus and comments are much appreciated and keep me motivated, I have the next chapter planned out and I am SOOOO excited for that one! see you soon! :)

I’m panting. Large beads of sweat drip off my nose and onto the floor as I struggle to catch my breath. My muscles scream, and I am on the brink of collapse. 

Okay, I’m a little dramatic. 

I stand with my hands resting behind my head. The action forces me to take large gulps of air. As I breathe heavily, forcing oxygen back into my tested lungs, I stare out the clear, tall windows of the gym I’m currently in. The top two floors of the UAU Fitness Center hold classrooms, while the first two floors are gyms and private yoga studios. This building has practically been my home all of my years at UAU.

I feel a tug of nostalgia, realizing this is my last year here. I remember how it felt being a scared, awkward eighteen-year-old, learning how to “adult” for the first time. Not much has changed, I’m just twenty-two and still trying to figure out life.

My Exercise Physiology class today has honestly been rough. Something I appreciate about my major is it forces me to be active—giving me chances to stay in shape when I’m so busy. A positive. 

Today we practiced sprints. We critiqued each other's forms, and tonight we have to do a written assignment on improving athletic performance with correct form and technique, as well as the importance of correct form in order to prevent injury.

Fun, but exhausting. 

“That’s all for today. Finish your assignments by midnight,” I hear my instructor call out. I grab my bag and water bottle, chugging some of the life-saving fluid before I brave the outside world.

I fix my braid in the mirror, redoing it thanks to the little strands that fell out from running. I wave bye to some of my peers. Being a senior, I’ve been in the same classes as the same group of people for the majority of my college life.

I’m sweaty and I feel disgusting. I’m ready to go home.

I secure my braid with a hair tie and wipe the sweat from my face and neck with a towel. Our class was on the second floor today. I force myself to walk down the stairs to the base floor, encouraging my legs to keep moving before they give out.

As I reach the base floor, I see Katsuki on the far side of the gym.

Muscular, sweaty, and so fucking hot. And definitely not where I thought he would be. 

It’s been a few days since our trip to the movies. And the hallway incident. The day after, he had a game out of town and just got back late last night. This morning when I woke up, he was still asleep. 

He has headphones on and he’s alone. Usually he’s with Eijirou using the football team’s gym. Meaning, it’s rare to see him here.

I fight with myself for a second. Should I say hi?

He’s facing the mirror and doing barbell presses over his head. He’s using an impressive amount of weight. I watch his muscles flex and extend. Damn.

I think I’m into this.

He’s watching his form in the mirror, eyes crimson and focused as always. His gaze jumps, and I make eye contact with him through the mirror. Well, I can't run now. And he probably—definitely—just caught me blatantly checking him out. 

I offer him a small wave. He gives me a nod, given his hands are occupied with the bar. 

I make my way to him, dodging other students using free weights, barbells, and squat racks. As I approach him, he sets the bar down and shifts his headphones off of his ear. My heart stutters.

“Hi,” I say. 

“Hi,” he replies, voice low and soft. He’s panting a little bit. It’s ridiculously hot. 

Last time we were together, his lips were on my jaw. Thinking about it, my stomach flips.

His face is slightly red, dusted with a sheen of sweat. Some pieces of his hair stick to his forehead. His black tank top and grey joggers fit him perfectly. His impressive physique and build on full display. 

I’m suddenly self conscious. I’m wearing a skin tight, pink tank top that exposes the bottom of my stomach, as well as tight yoga pants. Even though I’m mostly covered, his gaze strips me bare. I bet I smell like sweat. Gross. At least I fixed my hair before I saw him.  

“What are you doing here? Is the football gym closed?” I ask.

He shrugs, “No, just a change of scenery.”

I tilt my head, “Well, I’m glad you made it home safe. It’s been a few days.”

He snorts and wipes a bead of sweat off his brow. “Yeah. Happy to see the apartment didn’t burn down.”

I poke his shoulder, “If anyone is setting anything on fire, it would be you.”

He gives me a half-smile, and I giggle. I love the way we banter. I missed him. 

“Bakugou!” I hear from behind me, a sickly sweetness in the voice. 

Aw, shit.

Camie comes waltzing over. Lululemon tank top, Lululemon shorts, gold hoops and necklace, full face of makeup, bouncy ponytail swinging. Very pilates princess. And I hate to admit it, but she looks great. I haven’t seen her since Denki and Ochako’s party. 

“What?” is all Katsuki says, his smile gone and his words blunt.

“I haven’t seen you in like, forever!” she says. She runs a hand down his arm. Brazenly flirty. A boiling vat of rage fills my stomach. 

“What do you want?” he growls. Usually, I would butt in and scold him for being so mean, but Camie deserves it.

“I missed you in class on Tuesday. We should totally study for midterms together!” she says, laying it on thick.

She moves her gaze to me and looks me head-to-toe. Condescending and very judgy.

“Big yikes, what’s your name again?” she says to me, purely out of spite. I can see her fake, plastered persona from a mile away. 

Before I can say anything, Katsuki steps in, “She’s my roommate, Camie. What the hell do you want?" 

She tries to hide it, but she recoils at his tone. She quickly recovers, “Just wanted to say hello to the star football player. You just played so well this week. Anyways, see you soon, Dynamight!”

As she leaves, she winks at him and flashes a wide, sparkling smile. I want to throw up.

After she is out of sight, Katsuki scrubs a hand down his face and groans. 

I snort, “Awwww. How cute. Your girlfriend came to say hi.” My voice is pure humor and sarcasm, but beneath it is a sprinkle of jealousy. I can’t help it. 

“Don’t say that shit ever again,” he growls, but I can tell his anger is aimed toward her and not me. 

“Or what, hm?” I taunt, hands on my hips.

He glares at me, folding his arms across his broad chest. His sweat is making the fabric stick to his skin and it flaunts his defined pecs and abs. He groans, ”You’re annoying.”

“Why thank you, Dynamight, ” I say, sultry and mocking Camie. I even brush my hand down his arm like she did.

He goes to swat my hand. I try to dodge it but his palm snatches my wrist, fingers wrapping around it and holding me tightly.

I cackle and throw my head back in laughter, so loud I think I see a few people look my way. I don’t care, I’m having too much fun teasing Katsuki.

He purses his lips as he looks at me, narrowed eyes and furrowed brow. He releases me and shakes his head. 

“Whatever, nerd. I guess you did kind of save me. I don’t think she would have left so soon if you weren't here.”

I chuckle and my lips form a wide grin, “You’re right. Try having some gratitude.”

His lips tilt, and I get a whisper of a smile from him.

He bends over and picks up his water bottle. “Did you have class today?” he asks right before taking a few sips.

“Yep, that’s why I look a mess.” I motion to my flushed face and sweaty hair. 

He swallows and shakes his head, “You don’t loo—”

My phone rings and that cuts him off. I look down and see “Lila” on the screen. Why is my little sister calling me?

“Sorry, I have to take this. I’ll see you at home,” I turn on my heel, and promptly leave the gym. I answer my phone as soon as I’m outside. It’s a September afternoon, so it is warm but there's a light breeze that ruffles my hair and cools my hot, sticky skin as I exit the fitness center. 

“Lila?” I say, answering the call.

“Hi, stranger, what are you up to?”

“I just got out of class. Why, what’s up?”

“Turn around.”

I whip around and look behind me.

“Did you miss me?” she says. The words echo as I hear them from my phone and also her mouth.

I gape. Jaw on the floor. I can recognize that dark, shoulder length hair and those striking blue eyes anywhere. She's here.

“What the hell! Lila?” 

I grip my sister in a crushing hug. She giggles and squeezes me back, “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Of course I missed you!”

I’m a head taller than her. And two years older. She married her high school sweetheart just over a year ago, and instantly got pregnant. She had Macie about four months ago. She didn’t go to college and doesn’t work. Instead, she’s an influencer and makes money posting anything and everything. Honestly, good for her. Gotta pay the bills somehow. I'm a little bit jealous, too, considering the amount of money she makes plus all the free PR packages she gets. Designer clothes, high-quality makeup, expensive supplements, etc. 

All in all, my twenty year old sister and I live vastly different lives. 

“Hi,” comes a voice from behind her. I recognize Bo instantly, my sister’s husband. He’s tall, with dimples and dark, chocolate colored eyes. In his arms is a small, wrapped up human.

“Hi, Miss Macie!” I squeak out, adoring my baby niece. 

“Ignoring me as always,” my brother-in-law says sarcastically. 

I glare at him, “Oh hush, let me say hi to her.”

He laughs at me and hands Macie over. She has her mom’s dark hair and her dad’s deep, brown eyes. She’s gorgeous and perfect and chunky and I’m obsessed. Her short hair is curly and dark. She coos at me, showing off her deep dimples.

“Hi, honey!” I say to her, hugging the infant close to my chest, ”What are you guys doing here?”

Lila and Bo live about two hours away. Not too far but it’s definitely a surprise to see them. The last time I saw them was before classes started this semester. 

“Bo got last minute tickets to a concert we’ve been wanting to go to. It’s tonight! So we decided to be spontaneous and come! I figured I would be able to catch you on campus to say hi.”

I answer my sister without looking away from Macie’s perfect face, “That sounds like fun!” I pause, “But, who’s going to watch Macie?”

My sister gives me a knowing look, silently answering me. I gasp and practically screech with joy.

“Oh my God, yes of course I will watch her!”

Bo snorts, “Well, that was easy.”

I smile and tickle Macie’s chubby belly, she erupts into giggles.

 +++

We walk through campus to my place, enjoying the perfect, late afternoon weather. Lila follows me to my apartment while Bo grabs the car and parks close to my place. While Lila and I are chatting in the living room, Bo carries in the last bag. 

“Damn, all of that for her?” I say. There’s a pop up crib they put in my bedroom and three bags filled to the brim sitting in the corner of my living room. 

“Well of course,” says my sister. She is sitting on the floor on a blanket playing with Macie. “What we really should be talking about is your new apartment. You didn’t tell me you moved.”

I didn’t realize that I never told Lila that I moved. Which also means I never told her about—

The door clicks open and in walks Katsuki. His gym bag is slung over one shoulder as he walks in. Upon seeing the unusual group of people in his living room, his eyes widen.

“Oh, hey!” I say, jumping off the couch and going to greet him. “This is my sister and brother-in-law, Lila and Bo. Oh, and there’s Macie!” I point to the baby who’s now in my sister’s arms.

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you!” My sister says cheerfully. She extends a hand to him.

“Bakugou,” is all he says as he shakes my sister's hand, then does the same to Bo. Not overly friendly, but not rude. Nothing I didn’t expect. 

He stands stiffly, I can tell he's surprised. 

“My sister didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend,” Lila says, eyeing me suspiciously. 

I feel myself turn beet red. I reply, stumbling over my hasty words, “Oh, no no no! He’s just my roommate.”

“Yep. Roommates,” Katsuki says tersely. There’s something in his tone I can’t pick out.

He turns to me, “I’m going to shower.” He politely says bye to Bo and Lila before walking away. Once he’s out of earshot, Lila flips.

She scream whispers, “What the absolute hell? Who is that? Why do you live with him? What is going on? ”

I sigh, where do I start?

“It’s a new requirement UAU is doing for seniors. We are assigned roommates for our last year.”

“Wait, I think I recognize him. Does he play football?” Bo says. 

I nod. 

“Lila, he’s like, UAU’s biggest football star.”

“Honey, I love you, but I don’t know the first thing about college football.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he waves off my sister, turning to me, “Do you think he’d sign something for me?”

I laugh at Bo and his excitement. I look over his shoulder at the clock in the kitchen. “Maybe, but you should probably ask him after your concert.”

“Shit! ” my sister swears and hands me Macie. “Please keep my child alive for the next few hours. Then when I get back, I demand a debrief on this roommate situation.”

I roll my eyes, “Fine, just leave before you miss the openers.”

They leave my apartment in a tornado of haste, kissing Macie about a hundred times on her tiny face before flying out the door. 

Finally, some peace and quiet. Just a few minutes later, Katsuki gets out of the shower and comes into the living room. He’s wearing his plaid pajama pants and a t-shirt with our university’s logo on it. 

He gives me an incredulous look, glancing between Macie and I, “Why is there a baby in our apartment?”

I can’t help but laugh, “It’s a long story. Anyways, Katsuki, Macie. Macie, Katsuki.” I say, gesturing between the two of them.

He takes a few steps closer to me, looking down at the baby in my arms. Macie coos, smiling and staring at him. 

“My sister and her husband kind of dumped her on me last minute. I’m sorry. If I knew I would have asked you if it was okay.”

He shrugs, “It’s fine. As long as it’s not a brat.”

I snort, “She’s a baby.”

He lifts one brow, “Your point being?”

I roll my eyes, and Macie blows a raspberry. Fucking adorable. I catch Katsuki still staring at her. 

“Do you want to hold her?” I ask.

“Hell no,” he says, taking a step back like I just told him she has something contagious. 

I laugh now, “Okay, okay! Geez!”

“How long will it be here?” he asks. 

I roll my eyes again at him calling Macie "it".

“Just a few hours while they’re at a concert. If you want to leave and go to Eijirou’s, I totally understand.”

“No, it’s okay,” he says. He walks past me and goes to the fridge, grabbing something to drink.

+++

Katsuki escapes to his room, and I stay in the living room with Macie for a while. I dim the lights, leaving only the lamp on in the corner in an effort to get Macie to relax. After a few hours, she starts to get fussy. I look at the time and it’s 8PM. Following my sister’s instructions, I make her a bottle and feed her while rewatching a favorite movie of mine for the hundredth time. She falls asleep quickly, and I delicately place her in her crib in my room, careful to not disturb her. 

I tiptoe away from her just for a second. I’m still in my sweaty, and probably stinky, gym clothes. My hair is greasy and I need a shower bad. Since Macie is finally asleep, I think now is the perfect time. But, I have to ask a favor from Katsuki. 

I knock on his door. It’s cracked so I push my way in. He’s sitting at his desk, typing on his laptop. Probably doing homework.

Shit. Homework.

“Can I ask a huge favor?” I ask as I step into his room. He turns and looks at me.

His red eyes narrow, “Depends.”

“Hear me out,” I start, “I still haven’t showered from the gym and I have an assignment that’s due in a few hours. Macie is asleep, but could you please keep her alive for like, fifteen minutes?”

His face slackens, “You want me to babysit? Hard no.”

“Please! She’s sleeping, she shouldn’t need anything. Just like, watch her and make sure she keeps breathing.”

His eyes narrow and he thinks it over for a second, “Fine, be fast.”

I beam at him, “Thanks!”

He gets out of his desk chair and makes his way to my room. I hustle in, too, quietly grabbing clean clothes and planning to take the fastest shower of my life. He plops onto my bed and scrolls on his phone. 

I’m in and out of the shower in a few minutes. I dress and towel dry my wet hair as I leave the bathroom, planning to make a stop in my bedroom to check on Macie and grab my laptop so I can finish my Exercise Physiology homework. Silently, I sneak in, but there’s no sign of Katsuki. Alarmed, I glance at Macie’s crib, I don’t see her.

My heart drops. I turn and quickly go into the living room.

I start to call out, “Shit. Katsuki where’s—”

I see his head peaking up from the back of the couch. On the TV quietly plays some sports channel. As I get closer, I see that in his arms is my perfect, sleeping, baby niece.

I gape, every brain cell stutters as I look at the sight. It stops me in my tracks. He glances at me and whispers, “You better be quiet, she just fell back asleep.”

I’m in awe. What the hell? He’s cradling her head, holding her gently to his chest. I watch the rise and fall of her deep breaths. Her thick, dark eyelashes unmoving as her eyes stay shut in a deep sleep.

“I didn’t take you for a baby whisperer,” I say softly as I join him on the couch.

He groans, “Well, the second you left the room she woke up and started crying. I didn't want to listen to it anymore.”

My heart squeezes, “So you picked her up?”

He shrugs softly due to Macie still in his arms. “I didn’t want to just let her cry.”

My ovaries are screaming. 

This handsome, stubborn, cocky man who bows to no one is tenderly holding a baby. So gently and soft I have difficulty forming coherent thoughts. I want to take a picture and keep it for myself, just for my eyes to see.

I scoot closer to him, looking at my niece's soft, dark hair and pouty lips, “She’s cute, huh?”

He snorts gently as he admires her, “I guess.”

“I can take her if you want, thanks for watching her.”

“It’s okay. I got her,” he nods to my laptop on my lap, “Don’t you have homework to do?”

I smile at him, my chest rattling from all the butterflies flying around. His sincerity is intense. Also, the domestic image of him cuddling a baby is causing my hormones to bounce off the walls of my brain. 

I hurriedly open my laptop and start the assignment. The apartment is still, the only sounds are the soft clicking on my keyboard and the hushed volume of the TV. 

I yawn, the fatigue from my day starting to catch up to me. I’m sitting right next to Katsuki, so close that our thighs and shoulders are touching. Experimentally, I lean into him. 

Slowly, I let my head rest on his shoulder and sigh, “You’re comfy. I think Macie would agree.”

He inhales sharply but says nothing, just keeps on holding Macie as she sleeps soundly in his safe arms.

I quickly finish my assignment. Sitting up slowly, I set my laptop on the coffee table and then lean back onto the couch.

Katsuki doesn’t look at me, but just watches Macie’s sleeping face.

“Do you want kids?” he asks. The question is abrupt and shakes my focus.

This is a question I don’t particularly love, but with Katsuki, I find myself being painfully honest. Something about him just makes it easy to be truthful and open.

“I do,” I start, “but, there’s a lot of factors at stake.”

“Like?” he presses. Macie fidgets in his arms and he pulls her closer to his broad chest. My heart squeezes. 

I sigh, “Things are about to get really deep, really fast. If you want to redact your question, now is the time.”

He studies me, scarlet eyes flicking between my own. In his large, muscular arms, my niece looks microscopic. 

“If you want to tell me, I want to know. If not, forget I asked.”

I can tell he’s being genuine and sincere. The idea that he genuinely cares plucks a string in my heart. I take a deep, steadying breath.

“Okay, then I’ll be right back. It’s a long story.”

I reach over and delicately take the baby from his arms. I stand, walking over to my room and to the crib and softly set Macie down so she can finish sleeping in peace.

I leave my door open so I can hear her if she fusses, then I make my way back to the couch and sit by Katsuki.

“Remember when I told you about my mom?” I say gently, “She was… a lot of things. Mostly, she was bitter. And sad. And miserable.”

I twist a lock of hair around my fingers, fidgeting before continuing.

“My dad told me she wasn’t like that when I was born. She was attentive and gentle. A good mom. After Lila was born, he started noticing her change. She was just... different. Not as patient or happy. She would isolate herself and she was quick to anger. Peter was born when I was six and Lila was four, and that’s when the dam broke. She never hit me or my siblings, as far as I know. But, she was either yelling at us or ignoring us. She would disappear for days. My dad would have to take off work to stay home with us. My grandparents would watch us sometimes, too, so our dad could go to work. He tried his best.”

I tuck my legs under me, unconsciously scooting closer to Katsuki. 

“She was constantly angry. She would fight with my dad. She would scream at me for anything and everything. Same with Lila, I just hope she was too little to remember. Peter was barely one when she was still around, so I don’t think he remembers her at all. I guess my dad suggested therapy for her. He was thinking she had some unresolved post-partum depression. Then she…”

Fuck, I can feel my throat tightening as tears threaten to fall. I hate crying in front of people. I can see Katsuki from the corner of my eye. He looks at me intently, solemnly hanging on to every word.

My voice comes out a little shaky, “When I was seven, she left a note for my dad, saying she couldn't handle it anymore. With it was signed divorce papers. She ran away with some man she worked with. She left us to start a new life of her own. She wanted nothing from my dad. No money. No property. No visitation rights. No kids.”

A hot, wet tear streams down my cheek. I wipe it away quickly.

My voice catches in my throat in a wet, garbled sob. “She didn’t want anything. She didn’t even want me.”

Katsuki's hand reaches out gently and rests on my thigh. Not suggestive, not sexual, just pure comfort. His thumb brushes over the fabric of my pajama pants, soothing strokes that warm my heart. I let my hand fall on top of his, squeezing it softly.

I take a steadying breath, “I will never let my kids go through a childhood like I had. To feel like they have to walk on egg shells. To feel like they are so insignificant that not even a parent could love them.”

My words are choked and I’m fully crying now. I wipe my tears away with the heel of my palm, “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry.” 

“You don’t need to apologize,” his stare is somber and serious. He slowly reaches up with his other hand and gently wipes my tears for me with his thumb. His palm stays on my cheek, holding my warm, tear-soaked skin. I stare at him, his crimson eyes hold my gaze with such intense emotion that I feel another wave of tears fall down my cheeks.

Katsuki’s touch grounds me, like I'm a boat and he's the rope that ties me to the dock during a raging storm. Waves of emotion rattle me, but I’m clinging to something that will not let me go. Something that keeps me safe.

Someone that keeps me safe. 

He gives me a gentle smile and pulls me in close. “Come here,” he whispers. I curl into him, practically on his lap while I bury my face in his shirt. 

He tugs me closer, and now I really am on top of him. I’m curled up in his lap, the side of my body is pressed to his chest while his arms fully wrap around me, holding me tight to him. One of his hands gently rubs my back in small circles. It then moves to my head, swiping soothing strokes down my hair and calming the strands. 

As I curl into him, his slow breathing causing me to calm, I relax a little. I think I’m done crying now, and I pray my eyes aren’t puffy and bloodshot.

I pull back and look at him. Our faces are just inches apart. This man who is all fire and sharp edges—hot-tempered and tenacious—holds me like I weigh nothing. Holds me the same way he held Macie. Like I’m fragile and special and delicate. 

I wipe away the remnants of the tears that escaped me earlier. I let out a self-deprecating laugh, “That was a lot, I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, “No. Don’t say that, and don’t be sorry. You’re not too much.”  

His hand tentatively brushes the stray hair from my face as he holds me tight. His fingers swipe along my brow and down my cheekbone.

“I’m sorry your mother made you feel that way. You deserve to be appreciated."

He swallows. I watch his jaw tighten, “You’re not insignificant." 

I take a deep breath, “It’s hard to believe that sometimes.”

His hand takes my jaw gently, his palm warm and soothing on my cheek. He holds my face still as he studies me intently, forcing me to meet his garnet gaze. 

He speaks so reverently it’s barely audible, “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

My breath hitches. “And how’s that?” I ask, dying for his answer.

He shakes his head slightly as his lips quirk into a tiny, lopsided grin. 

He sighs, “You are amazing. And someone I like to be around. I hope you know that you’re enough. You’re more than enough.” The words are slow and reverent. Sincere. 

His words shake me to my core. Igniting a hot, blinding fire of intense emotion.

Want.

No, need.

“Do you mean it?” I ask, my words small. 

I can't decipher if it's the current, present-day me asking or a seven-year-old version of myself—begging to be loved, reassured, and comforted.

He smirks, though it’s tender and not teasing. His thumb dances on my cheek, holding me together as I'm about to fall apart in his arms.

His voice is low and earnest, he tilts his head as he holds my attention captive.

“Do you think I would ever lie to you?”

A beat. A pin-drop. 

And I want him so.

Fucking.

Bad.

Slowly, I turn myself so I’m no longer curled in his lap. I move my legs, letting my thighs cage in his hips as I straddle his waist. I timidly wrap my arms around his neck, letting my hands play with his short hair. Our faces are inches apart. I can smell his detergent and body wash, see every eyelash and that tiny, subtle scar on his right cheekbone.

“No, I don’t think you would,” I say in a whisper, so close to his mouth I’m tempting both of us. One of us has to close the distance, but now we wait to see who it will be. 

Katsuki's waist is snug between my legs. I feel heady flashes of want creep into my veins, making my skin crawl with electricity only he and I can feel. I want to move against him, feel his body under mine. 

His pupils are blown wide, his cherry and blood colored irises blaze. They frantically flicker between my eyes and my mouth and my neck, not knowing where to start. His hands settle on my waist and I shiver.

His eyes search mine, both of us asking a wordless question. A silent plea.

Seconds pass yet I think time stands still. I’m scared. Actually, I’m terrified. Did I go too far? Should I climb off of him? 

His lids droop slightly as he tilts his head up, causing his eyes to narrow in intense desire and focus as he studies me. From where I sit in his lap, my face is just a little higher than his, forcing him to look up at me. His hands move up my spine and ribs, lazily dancing along the thin fabric of my shirt. He doesn’t lean in, just lets his hands delicately wander over me as he stares at my tear-stained face. 

Okay, fine. He wins. 

I give in first. I lean down, letting my lips connect with his collar bone. He inhales, sharp and surprised. His hands tighten around me. 

Pressing myself to him, I let my mouth cover his neck in slow, needy kisses. Soft and exploratory. I let my lips wander from his collar bone to his jaw. Until now, the only part of him I’ve tasted is his lips. That was just once and so many days ago. I wonder what the rest of him tastes like. 

I let my lips connect with the soft, sensitive skin right under his ear. His breath hitches at my touch.

My hands are lost in his hair. I pull softly on the blond strands right above the base of his neck, causing his head to tilt back so I have more room to explore his neck.

He makes a sound in the back of his throat. It’s a mix of a whimper and a moan. I feel myself getting insanely and unbearably turned on. My body ignites in a burning need for him.

I grind myself on him, using my position to search for friction. His hands grip tight on my hips. Firm and steady, attempting to hold me still. I gasp lightly.

“Slow down,” he pants, his words flustered and airy as he whispers them into my ear. 

I pause, instantly scared I went too far.

I pull back, recoiling hastily, “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” I start to move, shifting to get off of him while my face burns from embarrassment. 

I read him wrong. He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want me—

“Wait,” he says, his hands grip me tighter. Both of them still rest on my hips, and his fingers press into my flesh. His large hands leisurely move up my waist and my back, his arms pulling me flush with him and back to where I was. 

His voice is so low it's almost a growl. “That’s not what I meant,” he says. My stomach flips.

My hands now rest on his chest, feeling each and every beat of his racing heart. Still, his hips are pinned under mine. I rock slowly and feel him against me, right between my legs and through my clothes. I let out a quiet, involuntary gasp. 

His pupils are blown. He’s breathing heavily, and beneath me I can feel that hardness that tells me he likes this. 

I like it, too. 

I slowly form words, trying to figure out why he stopped me but why he didn’t push me away. I tilt my head slightly and I run my hands up his neck and back into his hair, “What’s wrong?”

Just inches between us, I hope he gives in. I search his face for some sort of answer. Why did he stop me?

Katsuki swallows, and I watch his jaw clench and feel his hands tighten, unrelenting and immovable, “I just—”

Then my phone rings. 

I jolt, the sharp ring alerting me. I hurriedly jump off his lap and answer, hoping the sound didn't wake Macie.

“Hello?”

“Hey, We’re on our way back now. Is my child alive?”

“Of course.” I say, I’m still trying to calm my racing heart. The proximity and moment I just had with Katsuki already had my chest thundering, and the abrupt phone call didn't help. 

“Good, we will see you soon.” Lila ends the call.

I sigh and look at Katsuki. His face is flushed, hair disheveled from my hands. He looks flustered as he stands and rubs his neck with his palm. The neck I was just exploring with my lips and tongue.

His voice is a little shaken, not at all like his usual, sure self. “I'll leave you and your sister alone. Goodnight.”

He stands in front of me, looming over me with his tall, muscular body. Yet, now he feels miles away.

“Um, okay. Goodnight,” I say as I hug myself, unsure how to react or what to do with my hands. My face must be bright red. 

He hums in acknowledgement and walks past me hastily, leaving me alone in the living room.

My head is bursting at the seams, full of desire and embarrassment and a million other things.

Lila and Bo come back and pick up Macie. I plaster on a fake, unconcerned smile as they tell me all about the concert. They don't stay long, and I wave bye to them as they leave.

+++

As I climb into bed, I sigh long and slow. My body melts into my plush mattress.

What a fucking night.

I'm spiraling. Was I too brazen? Did I cross the fine line we've been dancing on?

Fuck. What should I do? Katsuki was saying something before my phone rang. He left after we got interrupted, but what did he want to tell me?

I feel it—the burning, searing emotions between us. Not lustful, but more than that. Genuine and palpable. 

It's real. I know it is.

I can sense it in his touch. See it in his eyes. Hear it in his voice. Taste it on his skin. 

It's something real. Absolute. Thrumming with a pulse.

It's blazing—scorching and roaring to life.

A fire we can't put out.

A fire I want to keep burning. 

Chapter 14: use your words

Summary:

He pulls away, giving my face a once over. He’s a little flushed, his cheeks now are tinted a rosy pink. Meanwhile, I’m pretty sure I just died and came back to life.

What’s my name? What year is it? Where am I?

Who knows? Who even cares? All I care about is the handsome man standing in front of me. Cocky smile, crimson eyes, and everything I’ve ever wanted.

Notes:

I had to add more tags because y'all... it's smut time.

minors dni! 18+ only!

also, keep in mind this is a college AU and everyone is 21+ years old.

thanks for being patient with me as I wrote this chapter, I hope the smut makes up for it :) also, one of my TikTok followers gave me an idea for one of the scenes in this chapter (iykyk)

don't worry, we're just getting started...

kudos and comments are always appreciated :)

as always, you can find me on TikTok @sukunas_20_fingers_

much love to all my readers, MWAH :3

I sleep, but barely. I toss and turn all night. Stress and anxiety and a thousand other things keep me from resting.

It’s Thursday, so I let myself sleep in. Today I only have one online class.

Thank goodness, because it is currently pouring rain. I hear it pound and rattle my window. One of my favorite sounds. 

I decide that today I’ll stay in, maybe I’ll read or watch a movie or bake something. Or all of the above.

My class is easy. I finish my assignment quickly after reading the material needed to answer the questions. I then get up to brush my teeth and when I step out of my room, I see that Katsuki isn’t home. His room door is open, but the lights are off and his bed is made. Sure signs that he’s already out and about.  

I’m grateful but also sad. I need to face him after what happened last night. I just… I can’t tell if he was rejecting me or begging for more? I would hate myself if I crossed a line and made him uncomfortable.

I decide to distract myself. I put on cute pajamas in an effort to look semi-put-together while also comfortable. They’re light blue striped with blueberries and lemons on them. My shirt is butter yellow, matching the lemons on my pants. I make a cup of tea and grab a book off of my shelf. I open to chapter one and make myself cozy back in bed. 

 

+++

 

I read for a long time, nearly halfway done with the book by the time I decide to stop. Closing the pages, I check my phone and see it’s already 3 PM. The rain hasn’t stopped. I’m not too mad about it.

My stomach growls, I realize I was too caught up in what I was reading to stop and eat.

I make my way to our kitchen and living room. I click on the lamp in the corner and light a candle on the kitchen table. Both cast a warm glow around the room. 

I make myself a late lunch and after I’m done eating I decide I need a sweet treat, too.

I raid the cupboards and find a boxed brownie mix. I happen to have all the ingredients and I don’t want to leave the house to satiate my cravings, so this will do.

As I’m mixing the thick, rich batter, the front door clicks open and in walks Katsuki.

My stomach is in knots.

He’s finally home. Happy nervousness skates through my limbs.

He immediately groans and tosses his bag and umbrella on the ground. His blonde hair contrasts from the dark green hoodie he’s wearing, so dark in color it’s nearly black.

“I hate the rain,” he grumbles, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, hello to you, too,” I chime in, giggling at his grouchy demeanor.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he says.

He approaches me, and I feel every nerve ending buzz. He smells like rain and cologne. His hair is mostly dry, but his clothes are littered with wet drops thanks to the weather. His eyes are stormy and blood red as he looks at me.

I cock my head, “Um, did you sleep okay?”

My words are awkward, like this is the very first conversation we’ve ever had. I still want to talk to him about what happened last night, but how do I bring it up? 

He nods and hums, “Yep, did you?”

I snort, “Not really, but I’ll survive.”

I turn away, busying myself with what I’m stirring. A pause, then he peeks over my shoulder, moving close to me. My breath catches as I feel his body brush against my arm.

“What are you making?” he asks.

I fight a shiver, “Um, brownies.”

“Hmm,” he hums in response.

I chuckle, “I don’t know how good they’ll be. This box mix was pretty cheap. Plus, I’m making them, not you.”

I dip my index finger into the batter and lift it to my mouth to taste it. Before my lips can close around it, Katsuki’s hand grabs my wrist.

I almost jump at his abrupt touch, I glance at him as he watches me intently. My skin is ablaze where his large, strong hand holds my wrist.

Slowly, he brings his mouth down and closes it around my finger, tasting the sweet, chocolate batter. His eyes never leave mine.

A knot forms deep in my belly.

I feel his tongue, licking and tasting. When his mouth leaves my skin, he shrugs his shoulders.

“Tastes fine to me,” he says, unruffled.

Meanwhile, I’m pretty sure my whole body just caught on fire. The sensation of his tongue and mouth was enough to make my brain stutter. I stare at him, slack-jawed like an idiot.

When I regain consciousness, I pull my hand back, heart stalling and restarting. I turn away quickly and busy myself by stirring the bowl. I hope my face is hidden from him because it’s surely beet red. My chest is fluttering, full of butterflies and nerves.

A piece of hair falls into my face. I reach up and try to push it off with my wrist, I’m flustered.

I don’t realize there is batter on my hand, and I feel it on my face as I push the hair off of my cheek.

“Shit,” I mumble to myself. I turn to Katsuki, “Can you help me with this?”

I point to my cheek and expect him to grab a paper towel or something to wipe it off. Instead he grins, and it’s wicked. 

“Sure,” he says. There’s a mischievous rumble in his tone that piques my interest. 

He reaches forward and grabs me by the hips, turning me and pulling me closer to him. 

I gasp and giggle lightly, “What are you doing?”

He just smirks and then his mouth connects with my cheek. He kisses me softly, and I feel his tongue as it tastes my skin. Again.

My heart pounds and my blood rushes through me. Electricity and fire. Untamable.

He pulls away, giving my face a once over. He’s a little flushed, his cheeks now are tinted a rosy pink. Meanwhile, I’m pretty sure I just died and came back to life.

What’s my name? What year is it? Where am I? 

Who knows? Who even cares? All I care about is the handsome man standing in front of me. Cocky smile, crimson eyes, and everything I’ve ever wanted. 

“There,” Katsuki releases me gently and steps away. “I’m going to finish a homework assignment real quick.”

He walks away like nothing happened, meanwhile I’m fighting for my life. I feel like I’m floating and drowning all at once.

 

+++

 

My heart finally slows to a stable rate. I no longer feel the need to go to an emergency room.

Katsuki is in his room. I hear him typing on his laptop while some music plays in the background. It’s rare for him to listen to something at such a low volume. Meanwhile, I had stayed in the living room for a bit to wait on the brownies. 

The oven chimes, and I quickly pull them out to let them cool and set up. On queue, Katsuki returns to the kitchen. His hoodie is off so I can see his silver chain circling the base of his neck. Now he wears a plain, white shirt and thick, grey sweats.

“Are they ready?” he asks.

“No, silly, they need to cool off,” I say, shaking my head as I set the pan on a hot pad and take off my oven mitts.

“Watch a movie with me while we wait,” he says.

It’s commanding, but not in a rude way. I know Katsuki well enough to understand that’s as much of an invitation as anything.

My chest squeezes and I fight a smile, “Okay.”

I dust my hands off on my shirt—smoothing invisible wrinkles. I follow him to the couch. I sit first, and instead of sitting close to me, he sits a couple of feet away. My heart sinks for a second, wishing he’d close the distance. 

I see him reach and grab a throw pillow. He then turns, and puts the pillow on my thighs. Before I can ask what he’s up to, he starts to lie down and rests his head in my lap. 

I snort, “Sure, you can lay here. Thanks for asking.” My remark is heavily sarcastic. 

“Shut up, nerd,” he says, all bark and no bite. I catch a ghost of a smile as his lips quirk to the side. 

He grabs the remote, flipping through the different streaming apps we use.

“What should we watch?” I ask, we finished One Punch Man a few days ago so we’re in need of a new show.

He adjusts himself to get more comfortable. I’m sitting on the far side of the couch, right next to the arm rest. It gives him plenty of room to stretch his tall, toned body on the rest of the cushions.

He lies on his back, with his head turned to face the TV. Lazily, he clicks through shows with the remote. None of them catch my eye. I’m too busy soaking in the weight of his head on my lap.

“What are you in the mood for?” he asks me, voice deep and inebriating—pulling me in as I willfully drown in it. 

My gaze flicks to the window. The sheer curtains are pulled, but it’s only about 4 PM so the sun is still up. The thick, stormy clouds cast a dark hue to the room. I can hear the patter of rain on the window. 

“Something that goes with rain,” I say.

He snorts, “Whatever that means. Should we watch a movie or start a show?”

“Movie,” I answer, “Oh! How about Howl’s Moving Castle? ”

“Sure,” he says, nonchalant, “I’ve never seen it.”

“Katsuki, it's so good! I promise you’ll like it!” I beam.

He smirks, “And if I don’t?” His words are flirty and teasing.

I giggle and bite the inside of my cheek, “I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

“What’s your wager then?” he asks, looking away from the TV and looking up at me from where his head rests. His eyes are stormy and challenging—scarlet pools that steal my breath. 

I fight the shiver that threatens to run through me. He is so casual when he teases me, does he know I’m fighting to breathe? Fighting to calm my senses and my heart and my brain?

“I haven’t decided,” I say, flustered and nerve-wracked. 

He turns away and looks to the TV, clicking on the movie and letting it start.

“I guess I’ll decide for you when the time comes,” he says. Again, arrogant and confident. He even said when, and not if.

 

+++

 

The movie plays for a few minutes, and I find myself wondering what to do with my hands. One arm is propped on the arm rest, elbow bent and my palm holding up my head. My other hand rests on the couch, near Katsuki’s body but not touching him. Awkwardly positioned. 

My eyes wander to his thick, blond hair. I want to let my hand explore the strands—their softness and silken feel. My fingertips have explored the back of his head before, but that was different circumstances. At that time, I was more focused on his lips and body than his hair.

And before I know it, my fingers gently sink in. 

I let my fingertip dance through the strands. His hair isn’t very long, but I let my nails softly trace circles in his scalp. His body stiffens, and I retract my hand.

“Sorry,” I mutter. I’m quickly reminded of what happened last night. How he mumbled for me to slow down.

“No,” he says, “it feels good.”

A hot, tumultuous pool forms low in my abdomen. Craving. 

My fingers tentatively find their way back to their place. Again, I let my fingers dance through this short, silky hair. He stays watching the movie, his eyes fixed on the screen. His hands rest on his abs. His shirt isn't even tight yet I can still make out the shape of his cut muscles. 

Focus on the movie I tell myself.

Yet my gaze keeps drifting to him. To the sharp cut of his jaw and the jut of his cheekbones. His features are so masculine and beautiful all at once. His face deserves to be in a painting on a museum wall. His muscular, large body is one that should be commemorated in marble, preserved and not forgotten in history.

I almost scoff at myself, like anyone could forget Katsuki.

My nails aren’t very long, but they’re a soft almond shape from the last time Mina did them. My nails scratch his scalp gently, and this time a soft groan escapes his lips. 

Completely accidental, yet insanely erotic to my ears. My stomach flips.

“That feels good,” he says, voice gruff and husky. 

“Yeah?” I say, voice small.

Another small, guttural groan from Katsuki’s throat.

“Yeah. Don’t stop.”

Holy fucking shit. His voice is enough to make me extremely and insatiably turned on.

I barely keep myself composed for the rest of the movie. Katsuki asks me occasional questions throughout. Like, “Why did that guy tell Sophie he’s been looking for her?” and “Who is Wizard Pendragon? I thought his name was Howl?” I have to repeatedly remind him to just watch and see.

I’m grateful for his questions for two reasons. One, it proves he’s actually paying attention to one of my favorite movies. Two, it distracts me from his feel and smell and proximity. Keeps me in touch with reality and not my tumbling, wandering thoughts. 

The movie draws to an end. The screen shows Howl’s castle as it moves through a green valley. Heen and Markl play in the yard while Sophie and Howl stand on the balcony. They share a kiss, and the movie ends. 

I sigh romantically, “I love that movie,” I look down at Katsuki. His head stayed on my lap the entire movie, and I enjoyed every second of it. I let my hand wander. My middle finger traces his earlobe and down to his neck, playing with his silver chain. He shivers.

“Did all your questions get answered?” I ask innocently as I tease his sensations with my delicate touch.

“I think so.” Katsuki sits up abruptly, but now he scoots closer to me. His hand grips my thigh, possessive and tight. My brain stutters.

His thumb draws circles on my leg as he speaks. Teasing and tempting. 

“So, the reason Howl said that at the beginning of the movie was because Sophie visited him in the past?”

I swallow, trying to answer him without showing how his touch leaves me dumbfounded.

“Uhm, yep,” I say, mentally telling myself to get it together.

“And he is both Pendragon and Jenkins?”

“Mhm,” I hum. His hand squeezes my knee lightly and my skin erupts with goosebumps.

He nods slowly, like it’s all coming together. “I think I get it now.”

I shift slightly, turning my body so I face him more. 

“So,” I say as I tilt my head, “Did you like it or not?”

Katsuki’s face is a little smug. He shrugs his shoulders but I see an egotistical smirk on his face.

“Not sure, I guess I’ll have to think about it.”

I poke his shoulder, my finger practically bouncing off of his firm muscles, “Not fair, I don’t want to wait for your answer!”

He feigns hurt, clutching his shoulder like the playful nudge was painful.

“So you wound me?” he gasps, his eyes shine with something akin to innocent evil.

“Oh, get over yourself,” I wave him off and go to stand. Forcing myself to get away from him and his beautiful face. I can’t be trusted when he looks at me like that. 

Before I can get past him, he grabs my hips and pulls me down. He pulls me down not on the cushions, but right on his lap. Straddled over his muscular thighs. 

And, his hands are not only on my waist, but under my shirt and resting on my bare, goosebump-covered skin. 

I gasp and erupt into giggles, “Katsuki!”

“What?” he bluffs innocence. I feel his hands squeeze my waist and I cackle again, the sensation tickling my flesh. 

I don’t think my heart can handle it. 

Handle this.

Handle him.

His hands caress my soft, sensitive skin. I’m on fire. I’m floating. Spinning. Reeling. All of the above.

“I didn’t really like the movie,” he says. I can tell he has something up his sleeve by the mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“You’re lying!” I say in a laugh, my arms loosely circling his neck. 

“Nope, it was terrible,” he pushes my hair behind my ear, “I guess you owe me.”

I roll my eyes, “Fine. What do you want from me?”

His eyes are blood-red and fiery. Oh, hell.

I stumble over my words, realizing his evil smirk will be the death of me. “I already made you brownies, shouldn’t that be enough?”

He shakes his head, eyes never straying from mine, “Not enough.”

The hand on my waist pulls me a little closer, while the one that holds back my hair moves to my neck. I shiver. He smirks.

“You owe me a kiss.”

And my heart stops. Stalling in the middle of my chest—frozen and paralyzed. 

My face falls. I no longer have the confidence of our flirty banter to back me up. 

Yet, it’s all I want at this moment.

Now it’s my time to be bold. And he wants this, doesn’t he? Or else he wouldn’t have asked. Plus, did he not just pull me onto his lap? 

Maybe he wasn’t really stopping me last night, maybe he was trying to stop himself.

But here we are. 

His hands are holding tight to my body, keeping me where he wants me. His hips are square and snug between my legs—my thighs caging him in. 

My hands slowly brush up his firm biceps, onto his shoulders, and then rest on either side of his neck. My palms softly hold him in place while my thumbs grace his jaw. 

I try to play it cool, try to pretend he doesn’t have such an intoxicating effect on me. My thumb traces his bottom lip. I watch as his face now falls. The once smug expression is now gone.

His eyes are wide. His cheeks are pink. His mouth parts slightly as I tease him with my touch. I watch as he frantically searches my face—gaze dancing between my nose and eyes and lips and neck. I grin, realizing his arrogance has dissipated.

My words are barely louder than a whisper, “Fine. Rules are rules.”

The plump flesh of his lips draw me in.

I give.

I dip my head, tilting it slightly. Then our lips touch.

And it’s as searing and heated as ever.

Even though this isn’t the first time I’ve tasted him, it’s just as extraordinary.

Katsuki’s mouth fits with mine perfectly. Him being the missing piece that my lips have longed for.

Slowly, I let my hips sink down, settling my weight on top of him. Layers of clothes between us, and I crave more.

Well, I mean less.

Less clothes. Less distance. Less questions. Less fear.

More Katsuki.

My hands move, down his chest and onto his clothed abdomen. Through his thin shirt, I can feel the ridges of his muscles. I can feel them move and ripple and he lifts his hips and rolls them slightly—adjusting his position and seeking friction.

He groans as I whine into his mouth.

His hands push upwards, taking my shirt with them. I feel the cool touch of air on my exposed skin, my lower back and stomach now bare as his hands explore.

Yet, I don’t care.

His mouth is hot, his tongue slick as it meets mine. I can’t help it as a soft moan escapes my lips. 

That urges him on. His hands now continue on their journey, up the sides of my ribs until his fingertips meet the band of my bra.

I hold my breath, and he stops.

After a few panting breaths, he rasps, “You okay?”

His chest rises and falls heavily, and I gasp for air along with him. His face searches mine, looking for any sign that this is going somewhere I’m not comfortable with.

But he doesn’t find it. Because not only am I okay with this, I want this. 

I crave it like flowers beg for rain and oceans beg for shore. 

I repeat back the words he said to me just a few hours ago,

“Don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t.

His lips meet mine with a new fervor, a new hunger that is insatiable. A bottomless cask that can never be filled.

His hands reach my breasts, slow and exploratory, yet I feel like I ignite into sparking, raging volts.

Shockwaves from the livewire that is his touch ripples through me. My back arches as he gives my tits a tentative squeeze. His large hands trail across me. His fingertips breach the edge of the fabric, connecting with the sensitive skin above my bra. I inhale sharply.

His mouth leaves mine, and moves to my neck. I can feel the warm, wetness between my legs. My hips buck slightly, searching for something to take away this dull ache that is growing inside of me.

I feel him under me—and he's so hard. 

We both make quiet, obscene sounds as our bodies press where we both want it most. 

I’m so fucking tired of these clothes. 

As if he knew what I was thinking, between kisses and licks across my neck he asks, “Can I?”

His hands are in my shirt, I know what he means. 

I raise my arms as he pulls my shirt over my head in one quick motion and deposits it on the cushions next to us. I’m left in my favorite black bra I got many years ago. Worn but well-loved.

He pauses, looking me over. I feel a wave of self-consciousness flood over me under his intense stare. He takes in the smooth skin of my stomach, the swell of my breasts, and the valley where my shoulder and clavicle meet. 

He gives me a soft smirk.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers as his hands reach behind me and pull me close, and his mouth descends to the spot where he was staring. Right at the place where freckles dot my skin like constellations. 

As he kisses the skin covering my shoulder and collarbone, I let my hands find the hem of his shirt.

Now it’s my turn.

I freely touch the tight-stretched skin of his firm abdomen, feeling every ripple and wave beneath my fingertips.

I tug, silently telling him he needs to take off his shirt and do it now.

He chuckles and removes his mouth from my skin, “Eager, are we?” 

“Shut up,” I say as I fight to catch my breath. My skin is on fire, his hands beginning to be the only thing that can extinguish it.

He reaches behind his head and pulls off his own shirt in one fell swoop. Before he can make any more smart-ass comments, I press my lips to his.

It’s somehow clumsy yet perfectly choreographed—the meeting of our mouths. I let my hands wander over his bare chest. The only thing there is his silver chain. My heart flutters at the contact of his warm, bare skin against mine. Our torsos press together, our skin meeting as my flesh tingles with anticipation and want. My tits beg to be free of this bra and wanting to be covered with his hands.

Or mouth. I’m not picky. 

I feel his hands as they reach behind me and grab my ass, pulling me to him. The movement rubs the ache between my legs against the tent between his.

Fuck. I can feel the size of him even through my pajamas and his sweats. He’s massive.

Would I be able to take him?

God, I hope so.

I don’t care, I will force myself to if I have to. 

I need him inside me. 

Now.

I moan into his mouth at the contact and he grunts. Where our clothed sexes press together, I feel the hot moisture of my soaked underwear. My body craves him so badly I can’t stand it.

That ache needs to go away. I need that taut string inside me to snap. I need Katuki to be the one to do it—be the one to push me over the edge and into pure, unparalleled pleasure.

I hear him say my name, and my eyes flutter open. The sound of my name rolling off his tongue pulls me from my euphoria. 

“I didn’t—,” he pauses, panting at the parting of our mouths, “I didn’t mean to run off last night. Honestly, I didn’t want us to stop. And I…”

A beat, then, “I think it scared me.”

I pause at his words, cocking my head slightly as I study his face. Oxygen fills my lungs slowly. My brain starts to function. 

His pupils are blown, blood-red irises almost overcome by the dark circles. His cheeks are flushed, lips wet and puffy. 

My eyebrows furrow, “That can't be true. You’re not scared of anything.”

He shakes his head lightly, pushing my hair out of my face so he can take it all in as he stares at me.

“You scare me,” he says.

I pause, waiting for him to continue. His words fill my brain. I know now he wasn’t rejecting me last night, and a small, miniscule piece of me is relieved. 

He takes a deep, steadying breath, “I can’t control myself around you.”

My stomach drops to the floor. “What do you mean?” I ask.

“I lose every ounce of restraint when you’re around. I can’t help it. I can’t resist you.”

My limbs are boneless. My handles tremble.

“And what if I feel the same?” I ask softly, my words ardent.

He sighs and his face falls, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Why would you?” I feel a lump form in my throat.

He growls, “Because I’m me. And you’re you. And you’re gentle and kind and beautiful and I’m…”

Before he can finish his words, I meet his lips in a crushing kiss. I want to pour every single drop of my emotion into his lips. Let my mouth move and dance with his in a way that tells him how badly I want him. 

Our mouths move in perfect sync, kissing and sucking and soaking in the taste of each other.

I part from him just for a second. 

“And you’re exactly what I want, Katsuki.”

His eyes soften, ensnaring me and keeping me from running from his gaze.

“Do you mean it?” His voice is low and soaked in greedy arousal.

His words sooth that ache in my chest I've had for the last day, wondering what I did and where I went wrong. The nameless tension between us is growing. We can't ignore it. We can't resist it.

And neither of us want to.

Katsuki Bakugou has slowly taken over every thought in my head and every breath in my lungs. Every squeeze of my heart beats for him. 

I want him so badly. Selfishly. I want his touch to be mine. His voice meant only for my ears. His smell only for my nose. Taste only for my tongue. I want to brand myself as his. 

Every part of my shattered person is for him to hold together. 

My soul and heart are engraved with his name.

“Of course I do.” I whisper, and roll my hips.

He groans and his eyes flutter shut. His head tilts back, exposing the long, unblemished column of his neck.

I take advantage of the exposed skin, and sink my teeth gently into his collarbone. He jolts—his hips bucking into me at the bite.

My mouth leaves a soft kiss where I just nipped, soothing the stinging skin. I whine his name. “Katsuki, please,” I beg.

“Please what? ” he grumbles.

I don’t know what I’m begging for, I just rock my hips forward, pushing our bodies together. Searching for pressure right where I’m wet and throbbing for him.

His splayed hands are on my ass, and they squeeze me roughly. He groans, deep and barely restrained.

“Use your words, baby.”

I whimper at the pet name. I hope he calls me that everyday for the rest of my life. Especially with his hands on me. 

“Your room,” I pant as my lips find his earlobe, “Now.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to.

He easily lifts me, his hands underneath my thighs as I wrap my legs around him. He holds me tight as I kiss his neck and jaw. He moves around the couch, down the hall, and into his dark room. He kicks the door shut. We live alone, so I don't know why.

Yet, I’m grateful he did because he turns us and presses my back against the door. 

My back connects with the hard, cool wood. It doesn’t hurt, but it makes it that much better when he presses into me.

His erection rubs me hard between my legs, and I whimper. My mouth finds his again, and we connect in a wet, messy kiss. Full of passion and unadulterated want.

He moves us away from the door quickly, and soon I feel the way his body tightens as his knees hit the edge of the bed. He sets me down gently on the end of his mattress. I scoot back and position myself how I want to be. I lie down with my head on the pillows, right in the center of the bed. Just for a second, he pauses. Staring at my form. I prop myself up on my elbows. I tilt my head, “Are you coming or what?” 

He shakes his head, and scowls at me. 

“Nerd,” he mumbles as he climbs over me. I giggle.

I feel the oddly comforting weight of him as he lies on top of me. His body presses to mine, and I watch him settle between my legs. He’s so large and muscular that my legs have to spread wide so he can slot himself between them.

The stretch stings in an absolutely electrifying way. 

A good hurt. 

His chain dangles as he props himself over me. I reach up and unclasp it from around his neck. I take it off of him and reach out, setting it on his dresser. I replace the chain with my lips, kissing the base of his neck. I stop when I reach his collar bone. The lights are off in his room, save for the orange beams of the sunset peaking through the blinds. The dim light is just enough to where I can see the small mark I had left from my aggressive sucks and bites.

“Fuck,” I whisper, “I’m sorry. I left a mark.” My thumb brushes the slightly purple skin.

He chuckles, the vibration rippling through me where our bodies meet.

His lips are millimeters from mine as he whispers back. “Good.”

Our bodies press together as our mouths find each other again. Two magnets with opposite poles flying together, right where they’re meant to be.

Charged. Electric. 

I need him so badly. My insides are twisting. A knot forms low and deep inside me. A place I need him so desperately.

“Katsuki,” I moan into his mouth, “Touch me, please.”

I’m fully begging.

He obliges. His lips part from mine. He sits up slightly, and then he’s on his knees between my spread, clothed legs. 

Not for long, I hope. 

His hands slowly reach for the hem of my pajama pants. His eyes flicker to mine quickly, making sure this is what I want. 

I match his gaze, letting him know it’s okay. I reach down too and lift my hips as we both push my pants down. He pulls them down my legs and off of my ankles.

I’m left there in nothing but my bra and underwear. His hands skim up my legs and thighs, right to the place where my pelvic bones are most prominent. He presses on my hips with his thumbs and I tremble. His eyes are glued to my spread legs and underwear.

He swallows, his voice is almost shaky, “Where do you want me to touch you?”

I’m shaking, yet I grab his right hand and lead it to where I’m aching. Down and between my legs. His fingers brush over me and the soaked cotton of my panties. I gasp sharply at the contact.

His breath comes through heavy, parted lips, “Here?” I feel him press slightly through the cloth.

I moan. 

He grins. Wicked.

He leans over me again, resting on his left forearm as he kisses my cheek and explores between my legs with his right hand. I feel him push the cotton to the side and the touch of cool air on my wet sex sends a shiver through me. My arms slide around his neck as his mouth moves to my throat.

His fingertips touch my slick cunt. I gasp sharply.

“Fuck, baby,” he says against the skin of my chest. 

A single digit pushes into me, softly and slowly. It drags a long, reedy whine from my throat. I'm throbbing and dripping with unbridled want. Want for him.

“You’re so tight,” he groans. I shudder.

He pushes a little deeper, and I feel myself flutter around him. That searing heat in my stomach threatens to snap.

God. I could come just from one fourth of his finger inside me.

He pushes more, and bottoms out. I feel his knuckles press against me, so I know he’s as deep as he can go. He slowly pulls out, causing my hips to buck into his hand. My nails scratch his back. He drags through me gently. In and out. In and out. 

Slow. Controlled.

Then, he adds a second finger. 

I feel the stretch of him, and it burns in the most addicting way. 

He grunts as he pushes in, and my pussy feels utterly and completely full. I arch my back off of the bed. He slowly pulls them out again. 

He looks down and watches his fingers as they disappear inside me and comes out soaked with my slick.

It’s pornagraphic, how wet I am. I squirm under him, begging for more. Needing more. Seeing my wetness on his long, thick fingers ignites a carnal desire I didn't know I possessed. 

I gasp, “Keep going, please.”

His other hand moves my bra out of the way, and I feel his wet mouth suck sharply on my nipple. 

I whine and whimper all at once. His thumb presses to my clit as his middle and ring finger dive into me. It’s more aggressive than before, and I fucking love it. We both jolt as my spine arches and hips lift from his touch. My moan is obscene.

“Right here?” he breathes out as he presses that soft spot deep inside me, his thumb rubbing circles around my wet, swollen clit. 

He continues curling his fingers and pumping them in and out of my soaked heat. He does this all while rubbing firmly on my bud. I swirl my hips experimentally, and my head falls against the pillow as the sensation takes over my senses. 

"Katsukiiii, ” I moan, drawing out his name on my exhaled breath.

He grunts and says my name like it’s a prayer, “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I’m so close,” I whimper and my body shudders. I wrap my hands tightly around his arms and my nails bite into his biceps. 

He smirks. Cocky bastard. 

His mouth finds my hardened nipple again and his tongue flicks across the sensitive bud. His fingers continue their pace, not changing their rhythm or pattern.

Holy fuck, he knows what he’s doing.

The edges of my vision start to blur. I’m fading fast as the white hot heat inside me threatened to explode. I’m panting, gasping for air. Mumbling nonsense like Right there and Don’t stop and Just like that, Katsuki. 

I’m twitching. Squirming. Completely undone.

I don’t care if I lose all sense of dignity right now. I don’t want this feeling to ever leave my body. 

He tortures my nipple with his licking and sucking. My cunt flutters around his large fingers. I’m so close to snapping. So close…

“Come on my fingers,” he whispers against my chest. Commanding my body, the body he owns. 

And I do.

He sends me over the edge.

The knot inside me draws tight, the string snapping.

Absolute, undiluted ecstasy fills me. My vision goes white. My throat lets out a desperate, final whine. My body shudders and my cunt squeezes him. 

“Fuuuck,” he groans. His fingers slow deep inside me and I pulse around them, my body sucking his digits in. 

I'm weightless, filled to the brim with something dangerous and divine. It thunders around the walls of my fluttering chest as liquid heat dissipated through my core and limbs.

I'm positive nothing has ever felt this good in all my life.

I come back to earth slowly. I remember that breathing is important, and I pant. Our bodies are sticky with sweat and sex and everything else that just went down between us.

Slowly, he removes his fingers from me. I flinch at the emptiness. He quickly wraps me up and pulls me close, holding me against him as I realize his heart matches pace with mine.

“Are you alright?” he asks as he kisses my temple and smooths my hair with his palm. As I look at his face, I see concern is etched in his features. His eyes scarlet and dark as they study me intently, brows pulled together. I realize he's worried that he hurt me.

I swallow once, slowly forming words, “I think I died a little.” A pause, then, “Yeah, I’m alright.”

Tears threaten to spill from my eyes. My body just experienced such complete and utter pleasure, my emotions don't know what to do with themselves. I want to cry and laugh and kiss his face all at the same time.

I want to do it all again, every single moment of every single day. With him.

Only him.

As my heart starts to slow and my orgasm starts to fade, I realize something. 

I finished, but Katsuki didn’t. 

Surely he needs to. He has to be teetering on the verge of pleasure. I know the painful ache of it. Know how badly a body wants—no, needs release.

I reach down, searching for his hardness. I want to touch him. I want him to come. I want to watch him come. I want to watch him lose control for once in his life.

It's purely selfish.

Before I can find the hardness between his hips, his hand grabs mine and his fingers interlink with my own. 

Tenderly, he brings our entwined palms up to his mouth and his lips kiss my hand. I smile at the gentle touch.

Before I can say anything, he shushes me by kissing my forehead.

“Stay with me tonight,” he rasps, words deep and husky. I shiver.

I sigh, pure bliss filling my trembling, exhausted body. I’m so tired. 

“Okay,” I say. We both move and we end up under his covers. Our limbs tangle as we hold each other tightly, bare chests touching in an intimate meeting.

My head rests on his firm chest. My ear presses to him and I can hear every squeeze and thump of his heart. Steady and rhythmic, lulling me as my eyes fight to stay open.

I drift into the deepest sleep of my life.

Chapter 15: back to friends

Summary:

“Did you just call him Katsuki?” Mina asks me, expression incredulous. “He doesn’t let anyone call him by his first name! Not even Kiri!”

I swallow, instantly flustered, “Oh. I guess it just slipped out.”

Her eyes narrow, reading every expression on my blushing face.

“Does he let you call him Katsuki?” she pries.

I bite the inside of my cheek. I shrug, trying to play cool, “Uhm, sometimes.”

I don’t tell her it’s really at all times, especially when his mouth is on my neck.

Notes:

Hello friends! Thanks for reading my story! I can't believe I almost have 300 kudos and 5K hits... INSANE! :,)

A part of this chapter was inspired by one of my TikTok followers (you know who you are queen!)

I posted a playlist inspired my Mina's underground nail business (lol). It's on my TikTok @sukunas_20_fingers_

Again, this story is meant to be mature, all characters are adults, and this story is meant for 18+ peeps.

I hope you guys enjoy. MWAH <3

I wake up in Katsuki’s bed. 

More specifically, Katsuki’s arms.

I’m covered in dark sheets and a black comforter. My eyes slowly adjust to the room around me. 

We’ve been living together for many weeks now, so he’s had time to decorate his room. I spot his desk, littered with a few notebooks, pens, and papers from his classes. He has some new, miscellaneous posters on the wall; Deftones, Radiohead, Metallica, etc. He has a red guitar leaning on the wall in the corner, does he even play the guitar?

Are these things one should know before literally sleeping with someone?

Being in this bed is a new sensation, so for a minute I fear I’m in a dream. I mean, last night was a dream—metaphorically. 

My stomach flips as I remember how it felt having his lips on my neck. It flips again when I remember the feeling of his fingers deep inside me. 

Fuck. He gave me the best orgasm of my life, and he only used his fingers. 

I wonder what it would be like to be with him completely—him buried deep inside me in the most carnal, wanton way a human knows. 

Pure instinct. The unadulterated, irrefutable need to shatter in the way orgasms do. 

What does he look like when he climaxes? Does he make any sound? Does his face distort, grimacing in a perfect mix of pleasure and agony?

God, what I would do to see him like that. Undone. Panting. Squirming.

I feel heat rise in my belly thinking about it. About him.

Katsuki stirs next to me, disrupting my lewd thoughts.

Reality settles into my bones.

I’m curled into his chest. Our legs are tangled, and the movement brushes his clothed legs against my bare ones.

I’m still in my bra and underwear. He’s shirtless and in his sweats. In the soft light of dawn that peaks through his blinds, I start to make out the shape of him lying on his side and facing me. 

In our slumber, the blankets moved down enough so that his bare torso is now exposed. I admire the casual stretch and shape of his body. The form of his muscles. The striations along his ribs. Collegiate athletes are usually fit, but Katsuki is unreal. Inhuman. Hand shaped by all the gods—Norse, Egyptian, Greek, Roman, and all the rest. 

Impossible to ignore.

I glance at him. His eyes are still shut as his chest rises and falls in steady breaths. The sun is barely coming up. It hits his tousled, blond hair just right. His eyelashes are still and thick on his shut lids. He looks less intimidating as he sleeps. Soft. Sensitive. Not like the usual, fiery man I know.

Then again, I know a side of him that not many people are privy to.

I realize we must have slept for over ten hours straight if the sun is now rising. Both of us have been so busy, it took a few hours of fooling around to get us to finally relax and give into our exhaustion. I hope to do it again soon. We must have fallen asleep well before 9 PM.

I try to sit up, planning on putting my clothes back on. Plus, I’m worried I overstayed my welcome.

Was this a one-time thing? Or is it something he wants to continue?

I wonder if he touches me because he wants me, or because it’s convenient. If we weren’t roommates, forced to share time and space, would he still want me?

Then again, the only reason we’re in this position—chest to chest in his bed—is because we’re roommates. 

I’m overthinking, per usual. I wish my brain could slow itself down, but I’m spiraling. 

Katsuki’s heavy arm is draped over my abdomen. His forearm tickles my bare skin. As I move to leave his bed, I feel his arm tighten around me, hand pressing me closer to him.

He mumbles something incoherent without opening his eyes and tugs me back to his chest.

I giggle, “Let me go!”

“Shhhh… just stay with me,” he says, his voice hoarse from sleep. Sensual and hot. 

I fall back into him, nestling my face into the crook of his neck. Smelling that scent that is so undeniably him. His skin is warm and soft where we touch, it causes my chest to flutter.

“What time is it?” I ask into the hollow of his neck, my words steeping into his sensitive skin.

“Ughhhh…” he groans. He doesn’t answer me. His eyes stay shut as he fights waking.

I slowly swipe my hand across his face, brushing his blond hair off of his forehead. 

Fuck, he is so beautiful.

His eyes slowly flutter open, and I see that dark, cherry color I adore so much as he gazes at me sleepily.

I smile softly at him, “Hi.”

He yawns, but his arm pulls me tighter to him. He mumbles into my hair, “Hi.”

“I have to get up,” I say softly into his throat.

He makes a huffy sound deep in the back of his throat and groans, “No, you don’t. You don’t have class until ten.”

I tilt my head up to look at him, “You know my schedule?”

“Mhm,” he mumbles into my hair, still slowly waking up and gaining consciousness.

I shake my head slightly. I’m surprised he knows that, and it tugs on my heartstrings, “Well, Mina is doing my nails today and I have to help out in the training room this morning.”

“Ditch,” he looks at me deeply as his hand reaches up and tenderly pushes my hair from my face, “Stay home with me.”

Home. My throat tightens at the word. It’s so soft as it rolls off of his tongue. 

Home. Something that’s just ours. Something only we share. 

“I wish,” I sigh. I rub my thumb across his bottom lip. My heart is racing. 

Pounding. Thumping. The way it always does around Katsuki. 

I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s not like being close to him is a new thing. 

I mean, hours ago he literally watched me come apart from his touch. 

I push myself up, and this time he begrudgingly lets me. His hand falls from my face and onto the mattress between us. Before I get out of his bed, I reach over and give his hand a soft, reassuring squeeze. 

“I’ll be back later today, okay?”

“Fine,” he growls. His voice is scratchy from sleep, but I also sense a little part of it is annoyance. He’s genuinely irritated that I have to leave.

It’s a little endearing. It makes my chest squeeze with both affection and sadness. Affection for his beautiful, sleepy face—and sadness that I have to leave the warmth of his bed.

I shower and get ready for the day quickly. I pass Katsuki’s room and the door is cracked. I peek in to say bye, but he’s already asleep again. I see the muscles on his broad back stretch then relax with each breath as he sleeps on his stomach. I decide not to disturb him and walk down the hall out into the kitchen, grabbing my keys off of the table. I notice on the counter sits a cold pan of untouched brownies.

Yet, I can’t help but smile. 

 

+++

 

I help out in the training room aimlessly.

I’m a little distracted. I can’t stop thinking about the events that occurred last night. My belly is in knots.

I don’t want to get my hopes up that it’ll happen again. Katsuki and I haven’t talked about what “we” are yet. And does he even want to have that conversation? Is there a “we”?

I know how quickly someone can run if the “What are we?” question gets asked. If he just wants someone to kiss and fuck, I don’t know if my heart could handle it. Would I rather know the truth or live in ignorant bliss, pretending he is mine?

We live together, and we can’t separate for the remainder of our senior year if we want to graduate. Having this end poorly could really suck, especially since we can’t hide from each other when we live in the same house. I don’t want to ruin what we have, but I also know that we have something here between us. Something tethering me to him. 

Before I know it, my mandatory two hours are over. I was assigned to help with the women’s basketball team today. I wished it was football, then maybe I’d get a chance to steal a glance at Katsuki.

I feel like a teenager. My heart races just daydreaming about him. My lungs squeeze when I think about his lips on my neck and chest. His sleepy smile. 

I’m hopeless.

After helping the trainers, I attend my ten o’clock class. Then, I make my way to Mina’s apartment. My headphones sit over my ears as they quietly play Clairo’s newest album. I walk down the sidewalk unhurried, opting to stay close to the shade the tall trees provide. It smells like fresh cut grass as I walk next to the green lawns on campus, my path sheltered by large pine trees and thick weeping willows. 

It’s almost noon so I make a quick stop at Kamino’s. I step inside, get Mina and I some drinks, and push the door open with my shoulder. When I’m back outside, I spot Katsuki’s football banner, the one advertising the homecoming game on Halloween. His handsome face makes my heart flip. I smile to myself and continue on my walk to Mina and Izuku’s place.

Campus buzzes as I walk to her apartment, which happens to be just a few doors down from mine. I pass many students. Some on longboards, some with friends. A few are scattered on the lawn of the quad, lying on blankets or reading in the shade.

 

+++

 

I make it to Mina’s and I now sit in a comfy, pink chair in her room. My nails are grown out and in desperate need of a fresh set.

“I’m proud of you for not breaking any nails this time,” Mina says, smacking her gum loudly.

I chuckle, “I know, right? Rare occasion.”

She brushes the dust from filing off of my hands and starts wiping my nails with rubbing alcohol. In the corner, her speaker quietly shuffles some newer music and popular K-Pop songs. 

“What do you want to do today?” She examines my nail beds.

“Something short and sweet,” I say, “Surprise me.”

She sighs, “I wish you would let me make them longer.”

I roll my eyes, “I know, I know. I can’t function with long nails, though.”

She scoffs but smiles at me kindly, “I’ll forgive you this once.” She throws me a wink.

She tells me that every time I come over. I just chuckle at her. 

She opens her phone and scrolls through Pinterest for nail inspiration.

“Are your classes going okay?” I ask her. I hear “Midnight Fiction” by ILLIT start to play on her speaker. 

She blows a bubble with her gum and it pops. Her face is inches from my hand as she starts applying the base coat. 

“They’re fine! I’m excited to graduate, though. I fear this last year will be the death of me.”

I snort, “Agreed.”

“This roommate assignment isn’t terrible at least,” she says, “Midoriya is really nice and we totally binge chick flicks together. I just found out ‘A Cinderella Story’ is his favorite. Funny, huh?”

I cackle, “No way! The Hilary Duff version, right?”

She smiles wide, “Of course. That’s the best one.”

I laugh so hard I feel tears well in my eyes. I’m pretty sure I snort at one point.

“Damn, I forgot about that movie. I’ll have to make Katsuki watch it with me.”

I immediately wish I could eat my words.

She halts and her head snaps up. Her eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Did you just call him Katsuki?” Mina asks me, expression incredulous. “He doesn’t let anyone call him by his first name! Not even Kiri!”

I swallow, instantly flustered, “Oh. I guess it just slipped out.”

Her eyes narrow, reading every expression on my blushing face.

“Does he let you call him Katsuki?” she pries.

I bite the inside of my cheek. I shrug, trying to play cool, “Uhm, sometimes.”

I don’t tell her it’s really at all times, especially when his mouth is on my neck.

Why am I not telling Mina? I mean, she’s my friend. But, she’s Katsuki’s friend first. I don’t know how Katsuki feels about us yet. I especially don’t know if he wants me to tell anyone.

I’m not one to kiss and tell, so I decide to keep the finer details to myself. Yes, I told Momo a few days ago about our first kiss, but nothing more than that. Plus, Momo and Katsuki aren't friends, and they maybe have interacted once ever. Also, I trust Momo with my life, she wouldn't tell a soul.

I feel slightly guilty for keeping these things from my friends. I just know their reactions would be priceless if they found out that Katsuki Bakugou is actually a big softie. 

For now, I’ll keep this all to myself. There’s a special thrill to this secret I carry. It’s a little intoxicating. Especially when I remember that today I had to wear a shirt that covers the purple marks he left low on my chest. A little reminder that what happened last night was real—something sacred, just between us.

Mina does a swipe of the nail polish. It’s a dark, maroon color. I don’t tell her it’s almost the same hue as Katsuki’s eyes. I fight a smile.

“Interesting,” she mumbles under her breath.

“Hm?” I press, a little twinge of discomfort runs through me. She knows something is up.

She blows another bubble with her gum and it pops loudly, “Oh, nothing.”

I roll my eyes, desperate to change the subject. 

“What are you doing after this?” I ask, switching my hands for her.

“Kiri and I were going to study in the quad,” she starts, then says, “Wait, you and Bakugou should come!”

I shake my head a little, “Oh, I don’t want to crash your party.”

“Nonsense,” she hushes me, “It will be fun. We bring snacks and blankets. It’s like a picnic, just with homework.”

I laugh, “Sounds fun, if Kats—I mean Bakugou—is home when we’re done, I’ll ask,” I say, catching my words as they tumble from my mouth. 

She smirks. She goes quiet for a while. We were talking for so long that I wasn’t paying attention to what was playing. Now I can hear that it’s the beginning of “1234567” by BETWEEN FRIENDS. A new favorite of mine. I hum the words as she adds tiny gold flowers and stars to my nails. 

She breaks the peaceful silence, “So… I couldn’t help but notice you and Bakugou getting a little cozy at the movie on Sunday.”

I freeze. So she saw us.

Again, I pretend like it was nothing, “Oh, that? I was just scared. You know I hate scary movies.” 

“I do,” she says, not looking up from my nails, “I just noticed you two were awfully close.”

Her tone is an attempt at nonchalance, but I know her. She’s trying to dig. She won't let this subject die.

“I was hiding my face in his sleeve.” I shrug, “I guess living with someone hot has its perks. It forces you to get comfortable with them.”

My insides twist and I fight a blush. Katsuki and I definitely have gotten comfortable with each other. 

“True, I just haven’t seen Bakugou be… touchy with a girl. It was a surprise,” she says. She switches her focus to my other hand.

That piques my interest, and I try not to sound too eager when I ask, “Really?”

“Mhm,” she hums, “I’ve known him for a long time and I’ve never seen him get close to a girl. He doesn’t really date, or even hook-up.”

“Oh…” I say, getting lost in my thoughts.

Is that really true? He’s so… I don’t know how to word it. He’s confident, sexy, talented, and popular. I know girls at UAU drool over him, but I guess I never noticed his lack of reciprocation. 

“Also,” she interrupts my thoughts as she wears an evil grin, “You called him hot.”

I know I’m flushed now. My words come out flustered and rushed, “Oh hush, everyone knows he’s hot, okay? It’s not breaking news.”

Again, she shrugs but I can tell she doesn’t believe me, “Whatever you say.”

She’s reading right through me, I can tell.

Our conversation leaves the topic soon, and we gossip about anything and everything for another hour. Thankfully, Katsuki doesn’t get brought up again—which is calming for my racing pulse and my nerves. 

Around 2 PM, we finally finish. I admire my nails as I walk down to my apartment. They’re short, round, and a beautiful scarlet color. I can’t help but think of my roommate. 

I push my apartment door open, and immediately spot Katsuki in the kitchen.

It’s strange seeing him now that the high of our night spent together has faded, making it seem nearly unreal. Leaving his bed and stepping into the real world was distracting. Now, I don’t know how to approach him. I immediately feel awkward.

He sips on a bottle of green tea as he shuts the fridge. He's wearing an oversized, black, graphic t-shirt with distressed and baggy grey jeans—very skater boy. It suits him. He's usually in athletic clothing, but either way he always looks great. 

“Hey,” he says casually.

“Hi,” I squeak out. I walk past him toward my room, planning on changing into something more comfortable.

“Where are you going?” I hear him say, inquisitive.

“Uhm, just to my room,” I reply.

“Oh.” A pause, then, “Okay.”

I stop and wait a moment. I look back at him and tilt my head, puzzled, “What's up?”

He shrugs and scratches the side of his neck with his hand. He’s acting almost shy. Which is strange considering he was not that way last night.

“Nothing, I just… I was wondering if you wanted to do something tonight.”

My chest squeezes. Like… a date?

I beam, but give him a teasing grin, “Depends. Like what?”

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans. “I want to show you something. We will have to wait though, it has to be dark out.”

My heart trips at the gesture, but I raise an eyebrow as I tease him, “Not suspicious at all.” My sarcasm is thick.

“Shut it,” he glares at me, but his face is pink and he seems embarrassed.

My chest warms at the fact he’s initiating this. That he wants to do something with me.

“Of course I’ll go.” I chuckle, “Oh, but Eijirou and Mina asked if we wanted to study with them in a little. Want to go while we wait for the sun to go down?”

He bites the inside of his cheek as he thinks. He then shrugs, nonchalant, “Sure.”

I excuse myself to my room and opt for something comfier. I think I will change into some yoga pants and a large sweatshirt if I’m going to be sitting outside for awhile. I dig in my drawer for my clothes, and my hands touch something wooden. The two skinny, cylindrical shapes clink into each other.

I gasp softly, I totally forgot. 

I take out the drumsticks I had bought Katsuki on Sunday. I can’t believe I haven’t given them to him yet. Then again, we’ve both been preoccupied—whether with school or each other. I get dressed and pick up various things around my room, tidying up before we leave. It takes me a few minutes, but when I’m ready I open my door and step out with his present in my hand.

“Katsuki!” I shout, practically skipping out of my room. His room door is open. I shove his gift up one of the sleeves of my sweatshirt and find him lying on his bed.

“Hm?” He hums, raising his head from his pillow as I enter his room.

“I have a surprise for you,” I say, barely able to contain my excitement.

He rolls his eyes, “Oh, no.” Yet I see him fight a grin. 

“Close your eyes,” I say, practically bouncing from foot to foot.

He groans and sits up, his legs off the bed as he sits right in front of me. I stand over him slightly, but even sitting he is eye level with my collar bones.

He gives me an incredulous look, then begrudgingly squeezes his eyes shut and tilts his head down.

“Eyes are closed, happy?” he grumbles.

I slip the drumsticks out of my sleeve and hold them out in front of him. My skin is prickling with excitement.

“Open!” I say, beaming at him.

He opens his eyes, I watch as they slowly adjust to what's in front of him. 

His gaze is instantly focused on the drumsticks in my hands. I watch as his eyes widen slightly. He looks a little awestruck as he stares at the present. The handles are smooth and black, with an orange X on each handle. He slowly reaches up and takes them from my grasp.

The gift is simple, but undeniably him. 

A pause.

Silence is all I get from him… Now I feel fidgety.

I stammer as I word vomit, trying to fill the awkward silence.“You mentioned you play the drums and I saw these when I went to the farmer's market with Momo on Sunday. I don’t know, I just… they reminded me of you.” 

Again, silence.

Does he not like them?

His throat bobs. He swallows, but doesn’t look at me. His gaze stays fixed on the drumsticks in his hand.

I ramble again, “I know, I know. You probably think they’re stupid but—”

“I don’t.”

His voice is low. Sincere. I stop as he cuts me off.

A beat, then I remember how to speak, “You… don’t?”

He shakes his head softly and finally looks up at me, meeting my eyes with his scarlet ones. 

His voice is full of emotion, yet gentle, “You remembered that I play the drums.”

Not a question, but a statement. Rhetorical. I can sense the disbelief in his voice. 

As if I could forget anything he’s ever said to me. Every piece of him, every crumb, is stored tightly in my brain.

I awkwardly shift from one foot to the other. He is still sitting on the edge of his mattress. I stand in front of him, almost between his legs. I realize now how close we are.

“Well, yeah,” I start, fidgeting with my hands. Maybe it was too much? Maybe I’m reading too far into this thing between us. Maybe a gift like that is too straight forward. 

Before I can think, he sets the gift on the mattress next to him and abruptly pulls me into a deep hug. 

I gasp lightly at the sudden touch.

His arms wrap around my waist, squeezing me tight. Since he’s sitting down, his face is buried in my neck.

My heart stops and my breath hitches at his abrupt affection. I let my arms wrap around his neck, breathing in the scent of his shampoo. I hide my smile in his hair. 

“You like it?” I ask quietly. Warmth dances through my body, filling me with pure and tender joy.

Softly, he says, “I do. Thank you.” His words drip with genuine sincerity. He means it.

I let one of my hands play with his thick, blond hair. He pulls back slightly so he can look up at me, yet his arms still encircle me tightly. 

He looks up at me with so much yearning and emotion I feel my breath stop. My lungs freeze.

With beautiful, scarlet irises and blown pupils, his gaze holds mine. 

I tilt my head and grin gently as my fingers brush the skin on the nape of his neck.

“You’re welcome.”

A beat of silence. Just two roommates locked in a shared gaze, motionless and frozen with all the possibilities of what could be if one of them gave in. Time stands still for a moment, like the world is waiting to see what will happen next.

The walls of his bedroom have already seen so much develop between us—from my first time in this room as I wrapped his swollen ankle, to our shared embrace right at this moment, to everything else in between. 

I want this innocent, gentle moment to last forever.

Unfortunately, reality creeps into my mind, its presence unwanted.

I swallow awkwardly, breaking the quiet. “Uhm, are you ready to go study with Eijirou and Mina?”

He stares at me for a moment longer, eyes fixed on mine. His Adam's apple bobs once, and his arms begrudgingly release me, “Oh. Yeah.”

 

+++

 

There are more students walking through campus now compared to earlier. The weather is beautiful, maybe that’s why everyone is outside. The breeze ruffles my hair and tickles my face as Katsuki and I walk to the quad.

Walking next to his tall, muscular frame is relaxing. He is a new source of comfort in my life. We walk in silence, yet it does not demand to be filled. A comfortable quiet.

We pass Denki and Kyouka, their hands occupied with books and matching coffees as they slip out of Kamino’s. We don’t speak to them for long. Even Katsuki participated in the conversation, surprisingly.

We part ways quickly. I noticed the couple glance at each other in a secret-language sort of way as we waved bye to them. I can tell they’re wondering about us.

I notice a few glances our way as we continue on our walk. Katsuki is one of the most popular and notable students at UAU, everyone knows who he is. It makes me both self-conscious and proud to be next to him. It’s selfish of me, but I like knowing a small part of him is mine. 

We spot Mina and Eijirou in the grassy quad near the clock tower. They’re sitting on a large, plush quilt. The kind you find in your grandmother’s guest room. Floral, soft, and huge.

“Hi!” I say, dropping onto the blanket by Mina and depositing my backpack close to me. Katsuki follows suit, slowly lowering his backpack to the ground as he sits.

Mina and Eijirou both greet us. Mina’s hair is in two low buns, with pink curly tendrils escaping in an effortlessly messy way. She's wearing a large, white hoodie with matching sweatpants. Eijirou is wearing joggers and a t-shirt with "UAU Cheer" on the front. I wonder if he got it to support Mina. 

“Want some?” Mina asks, holding out a half-eaten bag of peach rings. I giggle and take a few then pass the bag to Katuski.

He takes one and tosses the bag back to Eijirou, who is already elbow deep in a bag of chips.

“You left the house?” Eijirou asks him, sarcasm and surprise mingled together. 

“Shut the hell up, Red,” Katsuki bites back. He takes his laptop out of his bag and opens it, it chimes quietly as it starts up. 

Eijirou snorts and turns his attention to me, “How did you convince him?”

I chuckle, “Lots of money. And a few threats of turning off the water heater when he showers.” I reply with a wink. Katsuki shoots me a glare, Mina cackles.

“You’re just as bad as them,” Katsuki says to me, shaking his head as he logs into his UAU student account.

“And you like it,” I say, attempting to keep a straight face. Katsuki glares at me harmlessly, but his lips betray him with a small grin. I break our gaze, blushing as I open up my backpack and grab my laptop as well. 

From the corner of my eye, I see Eijirou and Mina exchange a look. Maybe I need to dial down the public banter. No one knows there are things going on behind closed doors between Katsuki and I. Mina is already suspicious of us, which doesn't help.

We studied for a few hours with our friends. Thankfully, the weather was perfect. Not too hot, yet my sweater kept me warm. Now, the sun is starting to sit low in the sky, turning the horizon a light orange color—the beginnings of a sunset. 

Studying is a loose term, though. Really it consisted of Katsuki sitting in silence and actually completing assignments, occasionally talking football with Eijirou, and Mina yapping everyone’s ears off. In fact, she never even opened her laptop. Eijirou ate most all of the snacks. 

I didn’t mind though. I was able to complete a few assignments I’ve been putting off. I wasn’t paying attention to the conversation around me until Kirishima’s words piqued my attention.

“You're so lame, you won’t play with my hair,” Eijirou pouts, aiming his comment toward my pink-haired friend.

“Kiri! Shut your fat mouth, you know I don’t know how to braid!” Mina rolls her eyes, irritated with the redhead’s antics.

A small gasp escapes her lips, “Wait, Y/N is good at hair!”

I raise a suspicious eyebrow, “What are you talking about?”

Mina’s pink curls bounce as she speaks enthusiastically, “You always do our hair for tailgates and parties!”

I shake my head, dismissing her comment, “Yeah, but it’s nothing special.”

Eijirou chimes in, “Please teach Mina how to braid so she can’t say no to me anymore. I love getting my hair played with.”

That reminds me of someone else I know.

I roll my eyes but chuckle, “Fine. Come here.”

I set my laptop down and scoot over on the blanket so Eijirou can sit in front of me. His hair is pretty short, but his wolf-cut/mullet will do. Katsuki sits quietly, typing and scrolling on his laptop—seemingly ignoring us. 

I grab pieces of his soft, ruby-colored hair and start instructing Mina.

“If you hold the pieces in your fingers like this, it’s easier,” I show her, teaching her my tricks that I’ve learned throughout years of being the unofficial-yet-designated hair braider of all my sports teams and friend groups.

I show Mina how to weave the three portions of hair together a few more times. We then split his hair into two sections, Mina taking one while I take the other. I catch a glance at Katuki as I play with Eijirou’s hair. 

His jaw is screwed tight, muscles flexing at the strain. His eyes are a little narrowed as he scowls at me. When I catch his gaze he quickly looks away and stares blankly at nothing across the lawn. I didn’t notice until now, but in the time that I spent braiding Eijirou’s hair, he had put his laptop away. Katsuki now reclines with his feet out in front of him as he leans back on his palms. His hands clench the quilted blanket tightly, knuckles blanched white. I recognize his expression.

Why is he upset? His body seems to be relaxed, but I know him better than that. His shoulders are tense, eyes narrowed—basic signs of Katsuki being annoyed. 

I can’t help but notice the sudden shift in his mood. Things were fine just a minute ago, why is he acting this way now?

Mina successfully braids a few inches of hair, and I jokingly applaud her effort, pulling my attention away from Katsuki’s sulking.

“Wow, impressive,” I say in a sarcastic voice. The braid looks atrocious.

“Thank you, thank you, I’m here all week,” she says. I cackle at her dumb attempt at a joke. I release Eijirou's hair and scoot back to return to where I was sitting next to Katuski.

“Don’t go, guys, that felt good!” Eijirou says, his shoulders slumping. I laugh at him.

“You’re a big boy, you’ll survive.” Mina sneers. Eijirou snorts and Mina laughs so hard that she snorts, too. 

I see Katsuki stiffen from my periphery. He grabs his bag abruptly. His face is stiff and drawn tight—furrowed brows, jaw clenched, lips pressed into a thin line. Mina and Eijirou start teasing each other, giving us no attention. I decide to use this moment and turn towards Katsuki.

I lean over to whisper to him privately, making sure to keep my voice low, “Hey, you okay?”

“I have to go,” he says bluntly, quickly standing. 

“Wait, where are you—” I start to say, but it doesn’t matter, he’s already ignoring me and heading back to the apartment. His bag is hanging over one shoulder as he walks away.

I stare after him for a second before turning back to Mina and Eijirou. I feel a twinge of defeat deep in my chest.

“What’s his deal?” Mina asks no one in particular.

“Who knows. Bakugou is always pissy about something,” Eijirou growls under his breath. I can see his expression, a mix of irritation with a hint of concern.

I say nothing and just fidget with my hands. I want to go home to be with Katsuki. I want to ask him what’s wrong, but maybe he needs space right now.

I don’t stay much longer. There was an obvious, uncomfortable shift in the mood once Katsuki left. My head is foggy with worry. Did I do something? I wrap up my things after about thirty more minutes before heading home. 

As I walk to our apartment, my brain tumbles through worried thoughts. Why was he so irritated? If he wasn’t, why did he have to go? Is he okay? Did something happen?

The walk is quick and I’m in front of my door before I know it, I guess I never realized how fast my legs move when I’m worried. 

When I walk in, Katsuki is nowhere to be seen. The lights are all off. I knock on his room door—nothing.

I peek inside. I probably shouldn’t, but I do. I notice his car keys are missing from their spot on his dresser. 

I deflate. My heart is a cold void as it settles in my chest. 

I have so many emotions and strings tied to Katsuki Bakugou. They tug me in every different direction. He’s my roommate, yet the occupant of my every thought. I can’t help but be sick with worry.

I wish he would just talk to me. I know he is not great at communicating but still... Am I naive to think that I would be the one to get him to open up?

So much of my life lately revolves around him, and maybe he's realizing that. Maybe he thinks I'm clingy, that I'm too much. He doesn't want to be around me...

Maybe I’m overthinking all of this and last night meant nothing to him… Maybe he’s tired of me and needs space... That's why he left.

But where did he go? 

We were supposed to do something tonight. Together. He wanted to show me something. He wanted to be with me.

I was so excited, too.

But now, I have a feeling that won’t happen anymore. 

 

+++

 

-*- { KATSUKI’S POV } -*-

 

I’m boiling.

Seething, steaming, fuming—whatever the fuck you want to call it. 

Doesn’t matter. All in all, I’m pissed.

Mostly, at myself.

I’m jealous.

I know I shouldn’t be, but seeing her hands in my best friend's hair lit a fuse in my brain. The same best friend who was locked in a bathroom with her for Seven Minutes in Heaven last week.

And jealousy tends to eat me alive.

Every twist of her thin, feminine fingers and every scratch of her nails on his scalp had me ready to explode.

Those hands that were in my hair last night. Hands that were on me while my fingers were inside her. 

Fuck. Fuck.

I make it to our apartment and slam the door shut. I stomp to my room, grabbing my car keys and immediately flying back out the door.

I drive anywhere and nowhere, no destination in mind. I just have to get out. I have to breathe for a second on my own.

I’m letting her get too close to me. This wasn't supposed to happen. I’m not supposed to feel this way, especially for the annoying girl I live with.

Annoying, stubborn, kind, smart, beautiful…

“Fuck!” I say to myself, scrubbing a hand down my face as one hand rests on my steering wheel.

I am so frustrated at myself for being this way.

My radio is off, with only the wind from my open windows keeping me company. I drive aimlessly around town, seeking answers on the open road. The sunset is growing with each second I spend driving, rich oranges and dark pinks plaguing the sky.

I shake my head at myself. I shouldn’t have stomped off like a fucking child, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t watch her soft smile and bright eyes be gifted to someone else.

I couldn't watch it knowing that she isn't mine.

She’s not mine. I shouldn’t be so possessive over her, but I am.

I want her hands on me alone. Her scent on my shirt and her taste on my tongue. Only mine. Her smile meant only for me, because of me. 

Every moment I spend with her makes a little piece of me belong to her. Her name being carved on slivers of my heart.

The way she laughs at our banter, the way she smiles when I come home, the way she crawls into my lap while tears stream down her face—it’s all I can think about.

I know she thinks about me, too, which doesn’t help. The small, thoughtful things she does for me. Bringing home breakfast just because. Washing my dishes when I’m running late. Buying me drumsticks because I mentioned once that I play drums.

She’s making it really hard to ignore her.

And then I fucking kissed her after Denki’s party.

I don’t regret it. I want it to happen again. And again. I need it to happen again. I need her lips on mine, her face held in my hands. Her beautiful, sparkling eyes meeting my gaze.

But I crossed a line. A point neither of us can come back from.

Then last night…

Fuck. Last night was amazing. Her in my bed. Her body under my hands. Squirming and whimpering because of me.

But she’s her, and I’m me. She is soft and warm and bright and good. And I’m just… well… an arrogant asshole who can’t keep his damn temper in check.

She deserves someone better. Someone less stubborn. Someone with less baggage. Someone else. 

But this thing between us is more to me. So much more. Something real and palpable. Not just physical. 

It’s emotional and honest. She's breaking down the walls I worked so hard to put up. 

And it scares the living shit out of me.

I don’t know what this is yet, but it's growing fast. I want it to stay.

And to think that tonight I was going to tell her how I feel. I was going to take her to my favorite spot. A spot where it’s just me, my thoughts, and the stars. I was planning on sharing that with her.

I was going to work up the courage to tell her that this unspoken thing between us means something to me. That she means something to me.

I'm so fucking stupid.

She’s my roommate, but I want to be more than roommates. What if she doesn’t want me the way I want her? What if this is just for fun in her mind, just something to pass the time. The result of two, horny college students forced to share an apartment. Meaningless.

But it's not meaningless to me. 

I’m sure she can guess how I feel about her. Then again, it’s not like I've come out and said it. Said how I want her and I like her. I want her around. I want to share the couch with her on lazy nights and wake up with her next to me. I want her to share the dining table with me. Share our things. Her stuff in my space, just to remind me that she exists, and she's mine.

And I'm stupid as hell to think she could ever feel the same. 

And that’s why I have to distance myself from her. I have to keep myself from getting attached. From falling for her even harder than I already have.

Because if I let myself fall for her, and she walks away from me…

I don’t think I could survive it.

Notes:

Y'all will either love me or hate me for this chapter, either way just know that this story WILL have a happy ending... I just gotta throw in some angst and drama teehee but I promise everything will be fine, so do not fret.

Thanks for sticking around! again, comments and kudos keep me more motivated than you think! I LOVE hearing from y'all. My DM's on TikTok are always open.

See you soon, much love!

Chapter 16: a touch enough to heal me

Summary:

I point an angry, accusatory finger at his sternum as I lock eyes with him. I look up at his beautiful, aggravating face—one I want to slap and kiss at the same time.

“Figure out what you want, Katsuki. Until then, stop acting like a child,” I snap at him, spinning on my heel in an effort to stomp off into my room.

He’s on me instantly, snatching my wrist and not allowing me to leave. Through gritted teeth, he bites, “And what if I do know what I want?”

Notes:

SMUT INCOMING

AGAIN, this story is for adults. All characters are adults. This chapter and story contains graphic sex. You have been warned.

Also, enjoy :)

When Katsuki comes home, it’s late. 

I’m lying on my bed, reading the same page I’ve already read four times because I’ve retained absolutely nothing. I can't focus on my book. I can only think of him.

I hear the front door of our apartment open and shut. Then I hear the familiar, soft sound that his shoes make when he slips them off of his feet. 

Usually I would greet him, but after what happened today I’m not sure he would even want to see me. 

He was gone for hours. I look at the clock on my nightstand as it reads 11:53 PM. It’s a Friday night, so it’s not unusual for people to stay out late. But it is for Katsuki. 

I silently lay in bed, waiting for… I don’t know what. Usually he checks in with me when he comes home and we talk for a bit. A small, natural routine that has formed from our living together. 

I hear the shuffle of his socks against the carpet. I hold my breath.

I wait for him to knock on my door.

Nothing. 

My hopes are crushed when I see the hallway light flicker off from the crack beneath my door. I hear his bedroom door open and shut.

 

+++

 

Katsuki doesn’t talk to me for a week.

Then two. 

I don’t know what I did, but I’m distraught.

I’m starting to realize that maybe it all meant nothing to him. Maybe he saw how attached I was getting to him and cut me off, knowing he wanted nothing more from me. 

Maybe this is his way of letting me down easy.

A merciful death.

Lately, I rarely see him. He leaves early and comes home late. I try to blame it on the approaching midterms. Maybe he’s studying. Also, he’s UAU's star athlete, surely he’s just gone because of football obligations. His homecoming game is quickly approaching against our biggest rival. That's why he's so absent... 

Right?

When he’s home, he locks himself in his room. Our kitchen where we once laughed over steaming food and chatted while eating sits empty. 

The living room that was once our favorite place to be has become barren, empty, and dark. No longer the warm, inviting place where we would bask in each other's company. The TV stays off. My blanket stays folded. 

When he sees me, he hardly acknowledges me. I’ve tried to talk to him, to ask him about his day or about football or whatever he’ll give me. I get maybe two or three words from him before he disappears into his room.

I’m crushed. 

The bookmark he kindly gifted me so many weeks ago sits on my dresser, mocking my heart. Reminding me of something that is now long gone.

Maybe I imagined it all.

The purple marks he left on my chest from his mouth and teeth have faded, my skin now clear and unblemished. Marks that he made while touching me with pure affection and care.

Now long gone. 

 

+++

 

Days come and go thanks to Katsuki’s absence and the chaos of college life. They drag on, yet fly by. It’s early on Friday morning when I get a text from Momo.

MOMO <3: Hi hellooooo wanna get dinner tonight?

Me: Of course, when and where?

MOMO <3: Around 7? Once I decide what sounds good…

Me: Lol. See you then <3

I stretch and force myself to climb out of my sheets. I had already planned to go to pilates and get coffee this morning before my ten o’clock class, so I slowly but surely don some yoga pants and a blue tank before going to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

I yawn, rubbing my eyes. I make my way to the bathroom and I turn the handle without realizing the door was closed and the light was on.

When my eyes adjust to the bright bathroom light, Katsuki is there.

I yelp.

“Shit! Sorry!” I say.

He’s clothed, well mostly. He’s shirtless and in pajama pants as he brushes his teeth. He makes eye contact with me in the mirror. His eyes widen in surprise and he immediately blushes—cheeks pink. His back muscles are taut and flexed with tension.

He looks at me through the reflection. His eyes narrow. 

“Most people would knock,” he mumbles as his toothbrush moves in his mouth. The bathroom smells like peppermint and his body wash, making my chest squeeze and soul ache.

I flush, mortified, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were in here.”

This is also the longest encounter we’ve had in several days. It’s painfully awkward.

He grumbles, “Whatever.” He spits his toothpaste in the sink and makes sure his mouth is clean before turning around. 

His muscular chest and smooth skin over his abdomen make my stomach flutter and heart stumble. I see his sharp, smooth jaw clench. The vision forces me to remember how soft his skin feels on my tongue, the taste of his neck. My nerves are unraveling. 

He tries to walk past me, but I have him trapped. I stand in the dead center of the doorframe, unmoving. 

He glowers at me, “Are you going to move or…?”

I inhale deeply, gathering my courage. I haven’t had a second to talk to him in days. I need to know what’s wrong. It’s eating me alive. 

I steady myself, and my voice comes out stern and blunt, “What’s your deal?”

His eyes roll and he growls, “Good hell. What now?”

“You heard me,” I step toward him once, his back to the countertop and mirror in the bathroom.

He folds his arms across his bare chest, and I fight the urge to drool at the stretch and flexion of his muscles under his smooth skin. Skin I’ve touched and kissed.

Shit. He’s so beautiful.

I swallow.

“You have been so cold to me.” My voice betrays me, shaking slightly, “Why?”

His shoulders stiffen as his jaw goes tight. He inhales slowly, not breaking eye contact.

Those scarlet eyes I would willfully drown in if it meant I got an ounce of his attention. 

“I’ve just been busy,” he mumbles lowly.

I shake my head. “That’s not true. You’ve been avoiding me for two weeks now! What did I do?” My voice raises as I get more and more emotional. I clench my fists tightly in my hands.

All the anger and heartbreak and frustration from this week of radio silence is bubbling up, gripping my throat and forcing me to boil over.

“Katsuki, please. What did I do? ” My voice quivers, shaking along with my confidence. 

He stiffens at my words and fidgets awkwardly. He looks away from me and stares aimlessly at the wall, avoiding my intense gaze.

His jaw works, clenching as he thinks.

“You didn’t do anything,” he mumbles under his breath.

I step closer again, “Then why won’t you talk to me?”

My voice is slightly more than a whisper. My throat squeezes with emotion. I reach out to touch him, since my words don’t seem to get through to him.

My fingers brush his bare forearm and down his wrist, the trail of my hand slow and deliberate. 

Silently, I pray my touch tells him what I’m too scared to say.

I’m here. I’m staying here. Let me in.

Please. 

He remains still and breathless. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t recoil, just stays.  

The walls of our bathroom silently observe us, observing this moment of vulnerability. I’m begging him for a sliver of solace, desperate for something—anything. 

He lets out a heavy sigh, like the exhale has a weight to it. Slowly, he looks back at me. Intense emotion dances in his focused pupils, and I think I almost see a touch of something devastating.

Heartbreak.

As my hand drags down his forearm to his wrist, over his pulse point and then wrapping around his large palm, he slowly lets my fingers entwine with his. The warmth of his touch soothes the ache in my heart.

A small spark of hope lights in my chest.

I wait with bated breath.

Please.

“I just—” he starts, he opens his mouth like he wants to say something more, but nothing comes out. His mouth snaps shut. I feel his thumb swipe soothing circles on my hand, his touch intentional. I think my heart stops—stalling.

Waiting.

Finally, he sighs. His voice is soft and almost vulnerable, “I’m just going through some stuff, okay?”

My chest aches. I purse my lips, worrying. “How can I help you?”

So we stand there, hands intertwined, eyes locked, yet miles away. 

He just shakes his head once, his eyes never leaving mine. His words are sad and blunt. Final.

“You can’t.”

And he releases my hand and walks out of the bathroom. 

 

+++

 

I decide to drive myself to dinner, telling Momo that I have some errands to run afterwards. It works out fine, considering she spent the day at her parents and not the apartment. 

I was planning on buying some things for myself after we ate in an effort to lift my spirits. Maybe I'll get a new book or candle, just for fun. These days of Katsuki’s cold shoulder have dimmed my light.

I arrive at the restaurant we agreed on. It’s a small, family-owned Italian place not too far from campus called De Luca's. The kind where the eighty-year-old owner makes the pasta herself and won’t let anyone else even touch her dough.  

It’s small enough that it’s never packed, but never empty.

The red brick is illuminated orange from the sunset. The neon OPEN sign glows from the corner of the window, flashing blue and red. Fairy lights trace the windows and the small awning in front of the door. 

I push the heavy, wooden door open, the bell chiming with my entrance. I find Momo in a booth by a window. Prime people-watching placement, I should have known.

“Hi!” I smile, squeezing her in a hug before dropping into my seat.

She sips on her water, “Long time, no see, stranger.”

I snort, “You’re telling me.”

A small girl, who definitely is too young to legally be employed, comes over to us and offers us a small loaf of fresh bread with salty, homemade butter. We thank her graciously and she blushes before running off to hide in the skirt of a waitress—she has matching, dark hair. I assume it's her mother. 

“How are your parents doing?” I ask Momo, biting into my slice of warm bread.

“So good!” she says, finishing her bite, “They’re excited for me to graduate in May. They’re planning a graduation trip for me, but it’s a surprise. They just keep asking me if my passport is up to date.”

I laugh, what it must be like to be filthy rich.

“Your high school graduation trip was to Greece, right? I wonder what this one will be.”

Momo nods and chuckles, “Who knows what they have up their sleeves.”

She switches the topic to me, “How’s your dad? You haven’t mentioned him in a while.”

“Oh, he’s fine.” I sip on my water, “I was planning on visiting him for Thanksgiving.”

“And your siblings?” she asks.

"Lila and Bo are preoccupied with Macie. Nothing new from them, just endless baby pictures—but I'm not complaining."

I snort and continue, “Peter is stubborn as ever. I think he’s doing well. He hasn't messaged me back in days. I'm assuming he’s busy with his football season.”

Momo replies, “Sounds like Shouto. He is getting pretty anxious about the homecoming game. Has Bakugou said anything about it to you?”

My stomach squeezes. A sinking ache lies deep in my belly.

“No, not really,” I look out the window, avoiding her gaze.

Our waitress chooses then to take our order. We decide to split a pizza and a bowl of pasta. We hand her our menus with thanks.

After she leaves the table, Momo lowers her voice, “How have things been after the kiss?” 

I sigh and rub my forehead, as if the pressure could relieve me of this aching stress. 

“I wish I knew, Momo.” I fidget with the paper wrapper from my straw, tying it in a knot.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she presses on.

I sigh, “Things are… messy now. I don’t know… I thought everything was great but lately he has completely shut me out.”

“Did something happen?”

I freeze. The night in his bed. His hands on me and his name on my tongue. 

I never told her, should I do it now?

I exhale, long and slow. 

“You can’t tell a soul.”

I recount everything to her, not sparing any details. TMI doesn’t exist between us. 

I spill everything from making out on the couch to waking up half naked in his bed. Her jaw doesn’t leave the floor for the entire story.

Thank goodness I finished telling her the details before our food came out. It now sits in front of us, steaming and fragrant. 

She takes a bite of pasta. “Girl, he wants you,” she says with her mouth half full. 

“I thought so, too. But not anymore. I don’t know if I did something or if he changed his mind, but things are way different now.”

She shakes her head lightly, “Maybe he’s scared.”

“Of?” I press.

“You. A relationship. Feelings.” She shrugs and brushes back a piece of straight, obsidian hair.

She rambles on, “I know that you know him much better than I do, but from what I can see, I think he’s trying to figure this all out.”

“Maybe,” I say. My heart strings tug lightly.

Don’t get your hopes up, I remind myself.

Our food disappears quickly, both of us happily full. We savor each other's presence for a little longer before she gets up to leave and offers me a quick hug.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” she says as she squeezes me.

We go our separate ways—her choosing to return to campus to finish an assignment while I sit in my car. 

I relax in the driver’s seat and scroll on my phone for a while. The parking lot is empty, save for me. The lights of the restaurant flicker off, signaling its close. 

I’m in no rush. I watch a few TikToks, sipping on the strawberry lemonade my waitress gave me in a styrofoam to-go cup. 

I check the time, it’s already been thirty minutes. Shit, I waited too long. If I hurry, I may be able to stop at the mall real quick for some retail therapy.

I click my seatbelt on and I turn the key in the ignition.

My car sputters, then stops.

Nothing.

I try again.

Nothing.

“Shit.” I let my forehead rest on my steering wheel, defeated. My battery is fucking dead.

How did that even happen? Did I leave my lights on? My car isn’t old or beat up. I just got my battery replaced last year. 

I know it’s trivial, but I want to cry. After the week I’ve had, this is just the cherry on top. 

I call Momo, but her phone goes straight to voicemail. She always shuts her phone off when she does homework. Admirable, but extremely frustrating at this moment in time. 

It’s about 9 PM on a Friday night, I’m sure everyone I know is busy.

Well, probably not Katsuki.

My finger hovers over his contact, but I hesitate.

Would he even answer?

After the radio silence he’s given me this week, should I even bother?

So no, I don’t call Katsuki. I try Mina.

“Hi!”

“Mina, are you busy?”

“Uhm, not really. I’m just with Kiri. What’s up?”

“My car’s dead outside of De Luca’s. Do you think you can give me a ride home?”

“Of course! Give us a second and we will be there!”

 

+++

 

Mina and Kirishima save the day.

“Denki was busy tonight but he has jumper cables, he said we can grab those tomorrow,” Kirishima says as he drives me home. I sit in his back seat while he and Mina occupy the front. I feel like a third wheel, or their child. 

I scrub a hand down my face and sigh, “Sounds good, thanks again guys.”

“Oh, no problem,” Mina waves her perfectly manicured hand while her other one holds her phone. Popular, catchy music plays through Eijirou's speakers, obviously her choice. 

A pause then she pries, “Did you call Bakugou? I know he has jumper cables.”

I nearly choke and my stomach twists into multiple knots. A heavy weight rests in my chest.

“Nope, guess it slipped my mind.” I try to keep my words flat and indifferent.

Mina’s face betrays her as her eyes flick to Kirishima. Suspicion and confusion.

No one speaks for a little bit. I don’t mean to act so out of character, but I’m awfully quiet. Not like myself at all.

Today has been emotionally exhausting.

After a few minutes of me staring out the window aimlessly, Kirishima pulls me from my thoughts.

“What time do you want us to jump start your car tomorrow?” Eijirou asks, turning the wheel with one hand as his car glides into the parking lot of our apartment complex.

I shrug, “You tell me, I’m free all day.”

We decide to do it in the morning after we all sleep in a bit. We pile out of his car and walk to our respective apartments. They stay with me as I turn the key in the lock.

I embrace Mina tightly, squeezing her affectionately. I thank them both, “Seriously, I appreciate you guys.”

As I open the door, I hear, “No problem,” from Kirishima, then, “See you tomorrow!”

I wave bye to them both and close the door behind me. I let out a heavy sigh, what a day.

I kick off my shoes and enter my dimly lit kitchen, dropping my purse onto the counter.

I'm obviously not paying attention and I nearly run head first into Katsuki. My lungs freeze.

He's in jeans and a black, faded, Pierce The Veil t-shirt. He looks ridiculously hot—annoyingly so. 

He glowers as he stands over me, obviously peeved about something. His jaw clenches as I look at his stern face, I fight a shiver.

His eyes narrow as he looks at me, blood-red and blazing.

“What were you doing with Kirishima?” he bites, his words are sharp.

"What happened to 'Hello? How are you?'" I sneer.

He just stares daggers at me, silent. 

I furrow my eyebrows and sigh, “My car died when I was with Momo. He and Mina gave me a ride home.”

He pauses. I see him take a deep breath as he crosses his arms over his broad chest.

“Why didn’t you call me?” he growls, irritated.

I let out a humorless laugh as I scoff and mock his words, “Why didn’t I call you? Are you serious?”

He glares at me, I continue.

I snap, overcome with all the frustration and rage and heartbreak from these past, miserable days.

“You’ve been an absolute asshole to me for two weeks! You’ve been acting as if I don’t exist, as if I mean nothing to you!”

He makes a face, he opens his mouth to say something, but I don’t give him a chance to speak.

I clench my fists by my sides, knuckles white, “So, no. I didn’t call you. Because I wasn’t sure if you’d care to answer.”

He shakes his head as he bites the inside of his cheek, his voice softening as he finally speaks.

“I would have.”

Hot, angry tears threaten to spill from my eyes. The absolute audacity of this man. I am so extremely tired of this shit. Tired of chasing him. Tired of hoping for his affection. Begging for his time. 

I feel my face heat up with fury and emotion, I snap at him.

“Well it doesn’t matter anymore, does it?” I shake my head, “I don’t know what to think of you. One second we’re sharing your bed, and the next you can’t stand to be in the same room as me. What do you want from me?”

Silence fills the gaping space between us.

He glowers at me, his chest rising and falling heavily as he breathes deeply and bites his tongue. 

He uncrosses his arms, raking a hand through his blond hair as he mutters to himself, “Fuck…”

I can’t contain my frustration. I take another step towards him. We are nearly chest to chest. He drops his arm and looks down at me.

I point an angry, accusatory finger at his sternum as I lock eyes with him. I look up at his beautiful, aggravating face—one I want to slap and kiss at the same time.   

“Figure out what you want, Katsuki. Until then, stop acting like a child,” I snap at him, spinning on my heel in an effort to stomp off into my room.

He’s on me instantly, snatching my wrist and not allowing me to leave. Through gritted teeth, he bites, “And what if I do know what I want?”

I whirl back towards him, outraged. His grip on my wrist is tight, but it doesn’t hurt. The pain in my chest is a different story, as I currently feel my heart split into two.

He takes a step closer to me, but I hold my ground. I'm not backing down from this. From him. 

He inhales deeply, like he has to pull himself together before he says whatever he’s about to say. 

The scarlet, crimson, garnet, blood-red eyes of my roommate lock with mine.

There is so much desire swimming in them, I feel like I may suffocate.

His voice is a completely different tone when he finally speaks to me. Earnest, pleading, and desperate—it’s as if I can hear a crack forming in the wall that he’s built around himself.

And then the crack breaks open wide.

Katsuki pours out his words.

“I want you. This entire time that’s all I’ve wanted. Don’t you get it? Don’t you see what you do to me?”

My heart stops. The air in my lungs freezes and crystalizes into sharp, glistening shards.

What did he just say?

He moves the wrist that he clutches and presses my hand to his chest like he genuinely aches, forcing my open palm to rest on his warm body—like my touch can heal the gaping wound inside him.

“You drive me absolutely insane. You’re the only thing I think about night and day. And every night I lie alone and wish I could tear down that damn wall between us and climb into your bed. Not to fuck you, but to hold you. To have you be mine.”

His voice rises slightly and I feel the ardent sincerity behind his words, “I want you to be mine. I have to pretend you’re mine, because I’m already yours.”

His face is pure heartbreak. Pure, unblemished yearning and want. It crushes me.

I feel his heart race under my hand, the rate just as rapid as my own.

He continues, “I would rather have crumbs of you than nothing at all. If that means pushing myself away from you, then so be it. But I want you. I want your toothbrush on my counter. I want your clothes in my drawers. I want your socks mixed into my laundry. I want your scent on my pillows and your air in my lungs. What do I have to do to make you mine?”

I forget how to breathe. 

I'm trembling as I stare at his soul-crushing expression, “Katsuki, I—” 

My voice wavers and cracks from all the heightened and intense emotion boiling inside my chest.

He feels the same.

He wants me like I want him. 

I feel tears well in my eyes. I don’t bother wiping them. I just let them stream down my cheeks. 

He cups my face gently, holding together every fractured part of my fragile being in his beautiful palms. His eyes search mine—desperate and anticipating.

I swear I see his eyes start to get glassy, too.

His voice trembles as I feel his thumbs caress my wet, tear-stained cheeks. 

“What can I do to make you want me like I want you?” he says as he stares at my mouth, inches from my lips.

I inhale once, long and slow, and let a single word fall from my mouth.

“Nothing.”

Then he looks at me, gazing into my eyes. Analyzing every inch of my face to see if I’m telling the truth.

Before he can say anything, I use my last bit of courage.

“I want you, too. More than you know.”

His eyes widen, his hands motionless as he cradles my face. Frozen. Suspended. He looks a little awestruck as he lets my words soak into him.

And then he kisses me.

It’s unlike anything we’ve shared so far. It’s intense and confident, nothing shy or tentative about it. It's crushing and commanding and all-consuming. 

We finally opened up to each other—spilling those honest words that have been stuck in our throats for so long. 

And I think my heart may burst. 

Katsuki feels the same.

He wants me.

And I want him so, so badly.

Our mouths move in sync, two pairs of lips that crave nothing but the taste of each other. His hands move from my face to my hips, pulling me tightly to him. My hands are lost in his blond hair, nails scraping his skin and fingers tugging on the short strands above his neck.

His hands splay across my back, pulling me impossibly closer to him, so tight that my lungs squeeze. My body is electric.

And I love it.  

I let out a small sound as his mouth crushes against mine. Our shared kiss growing hotter and hotter every second.

It’s scalding—this emotion between us. This thing that was once unspoken now put into words. 

He moves me, pushing me back until I’m pinned between the kitchen counter and his hips.

His hands are firm and commanding as he pulls my waist closer to his body while also pressing me into himself.

I can feel his unmistakable and growing hardness against me. My stomach knots and the space between my legs throbs and grows slick.

Our mouths stay connected, synchronous in a dance of want and need and desire. Our lips hot, wet, and hungry.

So many things that we have been denying ourselves. So many days of not allowing ourselves to be honest with each other. Denying ourselves the touch and taste of each other. It was excruciating.

I'm so glad that denial is over and done with. 

Our bodies press together, searching for friction and contact. Praying that this wanton craving can be satiated.

Maybe we'll never be satisfied. Maybe our bodies will always crave more, more, and more from the other. 

Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

Our lips are inseparable. Magnetized. Starving for each other. Time stands motionless as we gasp and moan and breathe into each other's mouths. 

We're entangled, limbs and lips intertwined and franticly hoping to never separate.

This thing between us has developed fast. We've only lived together for a few months, yet it's all undeniably real.

And I couldn't be happier.

His hands find the waist of my jeans and move to the front. His fingers find the button, he pauses.

His mouth disconnects with mine for a moment. He looks at me, breathing heavily.

His eyes are scorching. I swear I can almost see the red in his irises flicker—as if glowing, hungry flames lie behind them.

“Can I take these off?” he asks, earnest.

My mouth finds his clean shaven jaw, my lips pressing against his skin as his hands toy with my jeans.

“Please,” I shamelessly beg.

He quickly undoes the top button, unzips, then pushes them down over my hips and down my thighs. 

My mouth finds Katsuki's again, and our kiss stays connected as I step out of my jeans that are now in a heap on the kitchen tile.

His hands glide up the sides of my thighs and land back on my waist, grip unrelenting and possessive.

In an instant, he lifts me effortlessly onto the kitchen counter and slots his hips between my spread legs. I let out a small gasp, the smooth countertop is cold under my bare thighs. Soon enough, I hardly notice. I’m too busy focusing on the heat of his hands on me. 

My underwear is thin—the fabric a soft, black cotton that hugs my curves well. Simple, but one of my favorite and most flattering pairs.

Thank god I wore them today.

His large hands are on my ass and he squeezes. He grinds into me slightly, pressing his covered but growing erection into my aching core. The denim of his jeans is rough as it brushes against that sensitive area between my legs. 

I tilt my head back and let out a muffled whine. Obscene and wanton. 

Oh my fucking god.

This feels amazing, and he has hardly touched me. I’m soaked, I’m sure of it.

His mouth is on my tender neck. He moves again, grinding into me. A moan escapes his mouth now—the sound deep and serrated and insanely erotic against my skin. 

I want to listen to the charged, pleasure-filled sounds that slip from his mouth forever.

I want to be the reason he moans and grunts and whines, my hands on his body and my mouth on his skin. 

My hands lose themselves in his hair, pressing him towards me and keeping his lips on my needy, sensitive collarbone. 

His right hand moves with purpose, and I feel as it dances over my thigh and towards my core.

His mouth pauses its worship of my throat, his voice guttural and pleading as he asks, “Can I touch you?”

I just moan in response, canting my hips and arching my back. I'm overwhelmed, every nerve in my pent-up body begging for his touch. Begging for his fingers. 

But his hand freezes in its tracks.

No, no, no. Why did he stop?

His words are direct. “I need to hear you say it,” he commands, pulling back. 

I don't realize until now that him bossing me around is such an intense turn-on, but the hot, white flame that flickers in my belly tells me I’m into it.

I'm really into it. 

I whimper as he sucks hard on my neck, sure to leave a mark. I don’t care. I hope the world knows his mouth is the one that formed the bruise. That Katsuki Bakugou wants me the way I want him.

Wholly and blatantly. 

Katsuki's large hand squeezes my thigh as he waits for my response, reminding me that he asked me a question.

I breathe rapidly, our bodies chest to chest as I sit on the edge of our countertop. My fingers tug lightly on his hair and my nails scratch his skin. My words are airy, barely formed due to the intense desire I’m feeling.

“Yes, please.”

He chuckles against my skin as he dips down again, his lips tickling the skin over my collar bone. He knows what he's doing. The cockiness of his laugh is both frustrating and riling, provoking me to spread my legs wider for him. 

His hand moves, calculated, and his fingertips breach the cotton covering me. He pushes my soaked underwear to the side and his fingers move to my slit.

I suck in a breath, balancing on a tightrope. Silently pleading. 

“Fuck,” he whispers into my neck, his conceited grin is evident by the stretch of his lips that I feel under my jaw, “This all for me?”

He pulls his hand back and he looks down between my legs. I glance down, too.

His index and middle finger glisten with me. It’s a little embarrassing seeing how wet I am for him. My heart stutters and my face grows hot as he slowly spreads his fingers apart, showing me exactly how my shining wetness clings to him. 

He lets out a soft, guttural groan. I almost come just from the sight of his hand and the sound he makes, the tight knot inside of me pulling taut.

He reaches down again, and now his thick fingers are cool from my slick. I hiss quietly as he pushes just one finger into my sensitive cunt, slow and soft.

Meticulous. Patient.

I flinch, his thick finger snug only a few centimeters inside me. My hands are on his shoulders, gripping him tight as I steady myself. It takes a few breaths, but I start to will my body to relax.

He presses a chaste kiss onto my cheek as he advances further.

He pushes in a little, then pulls out. Again and again until my tight, soaked cunt takes all the inches of his single finger. 

It's slow, like some sort of supplication or ritual. Like he's worshipping me and the space between my legs—the space that's throbbing and gushing for Katsuki and Katsuki alone.

His teeth graze my skin and he bites gently on my neck. I whimper as my eyes squeeze shut.

The sounds echoing in our kitchen are obscene and lewd—soft moans, wet squelches, and heavy, labored breaths. 

Our kitchen. Something we share. Something reserved for us. 

Slowly, a second finger breaches me. His mouth moves from my neck back to my lips. Our mouths connect in a slow, wet kiss as he pushes in, stretching me. 

I try to choke back a moan, but it's futile. I’m mewling and whimpering all at once. I grind myself on his hand, moving without thinking.

My body has taken over for my brain. All I can think about is him and his lips and his hands and the hot, burning orgasm that's building inside me. 

His fingers plunge into me over and over again. It's excruciatingly amazing. He's so fucking good at this, at making my body surrender to completely to him. Opening for him as my legs spread further and further apart and my cunt squeezes and pulses around his fingers.

For so long, we’ve denied ourselves this. Denied and pushed away this scalding desire that brands us both. 

It’s not lust. It’s both innocent yet sinful at once. Raw and emotional. Real.

Genuine.

Certain.

Something wholly and selfishly ours.

I’m gushing around his fingers. I’m a blubbering mess—moaning and whimpering his name.

“I’m close,” I nearly sob, feeling the electricity skirting through my limps and zeroing in on my core. My back is arching and I roll my hips, begging his fingers to hit that tragic, aching spot deep inside me.

He pulls away from my lips and keeps moving his fingers in a steady, precise rhythm. Just the way I like it. 

“Already?” he teases me, his smirk maddening. 

With that, Katsuki curls his fingers slightly and he hits that aching spot deep inside my cunt where all my nerves are alight with fire and electricity. His thumb presses firmly on my clit, commanding me to fall apart.

And I do.

I fracture and snap.

Stars burst behind my closed eyes.

My mouth falls open and I cry out. That pleasure that has been steadily building inside me ignites.

I’m gasping for air, clinging to his body as pure, explosive heat erupts in my core and then scatters throughout my limbs. He holds me firm, guiding me through my orgasm. His fingers stay deep inside me as his other hand holds tightly onto my hip.

It’s prolonged and excruciatingly amazing. My legs are trembling from the ecstasy and I'm rapidly panting. A single, euphoric tear escapes my eye. He releases his hold on my hip and raises his hand, quickly wiping it away as he smiles at me.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, pressing a gentle, delicate kiss to my cheek. 

His tender words send waves of emotion through me. An overwhelming feeling that soothes my scalded skin. It's a heavy, riotous rainstorm on a scorching summer day.

A tumultuous riptide that pulls me under.

And I’d gladly drown in his hands. 

I catch my breath, coming down from my soul-shattering climax. I’ve never felt anything like it.

I want to give all of myself to him. 

I want him inside me. Now.

Or maybe I want him inside my mouth. 

I don’t care either way, I just want to make him feel good. I want to watch him shatter and know that I was the one to do it.

I flutter as he slowly pulls out his soaked fingers, and I feel painfully empty. He wipes his wet digits on his shirt. Now both of his large hands caress my trembling thighs.

He tilts his head and kisses my plush, moist lips softly. 

“Katsuki," I sigh into his mouth. I feel his lips tug into a small grin against mine.

“What, baby?” he says in a low, hushed tone, millimeters from my lips.

His mouth moves to my neck. His hands slip under my shirt and wander up my back. His fingers tickle my bare, smooth skin.

I whimper, “I want…” I start to say, but the mixture of his wandering hands and my fading orgasm turn my mind into nothingness. I’m dizzy.

Am I floating?

“You want what?” he says against my collar bone, mocking my inability to form a sentence. His hands continue to torture my overly sensitive body.

I gasp lightly as his teeth softly nip at my clavicle, teasing me. My skin grows impossibly warm again as it craves him even more than I thought possible.

“Can I…”

I start to get shy. This is the first time I’ve ever been so bold with a man. This is also the first time I’ve ever felt so intensely for someone.

I shouldn’t be so scared. I just came on his fingers, and it wasn’t even the first time I did. 

My voice is a little shaky, overcome with nerves and pleasure, “Can I make you feel good this time?”

His mouth pauses on my throat, obviously surprised by my blunt question.

He lifts his head and looks squarely at me, confused.

“What do you mean?”

I look away from his face, and instead focus on his chest. The thin fabric of his t-shirt shows each movement of his heavy breaths. I let my touch press over his pecs and run down to his abdomen, slowly descending to his belt. My touch starts to say what my mouth won’t.

I swallow. “Last time we did this… And just now… I got to finish but you didn't…”

His grin is sly, almost arrogant, like he's satisfied just watching me fall apart from his touch.

His fingertips brush against the highest part of my blushing cheek, pushing back my hair. “I don’t mind. I like taking care of you.”

My heart stutters. I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry.

“I just…” I look up at him and embolden myself, “Can I suck you off?”

His face slackens slightly, and his cheeks grow pink.

“Are you sure?” He asks, his hand soothes the flushed skin on my face as he cradles my cheek.

I nod quickly before I lose courage, “I’m sure. I want to.”

His crimson gaze searches my own, making sure I'm being honest.

I give him a small smile, letting him know that I mean it.

He tilts his lips into a crooked, slight grin, “Okay.”

I slowly slide off the counter and land on shaky legs. Holy fuck, will I ever be able to walk again?

He snorts, a smug expression on his face—like he knows exactly why I can’t stand up straight. Bastard. 

Fuck, he’s perfect—cocky grin and all. 

I roll my eyes, but my smile betrays me. It takes a few seconds for me to steady myself. He can tell, so he pulls me tightly to his muscular body and presses a soft kiss to my temple. It’s more sacred than sensual, and it breaks my fluttering rib cage wide open.

I beam up at him, my chin resting on his sternum, “Come on.”

I grab Katsuki's hand and lead him to my room.

Notes:

I hope this chapter made up for the last one.

I LOVE all your comments! Please comment and tell me what you think, it means the world to me and spurs me on to keep writing.

I have a TikTok that I'm very active on, you can follow me for chapter and story updates there! Plus I will post mood boards and playlists for chapters, @sukunas_20_fingers_

Everyone; get some sleep, drink some water, eat some food, touch some grass, and I will see you soon with another smutty chapter :)

MWAH! :3

Chapter 17: let you have me

Summary:

His hands find my jaw, and he tilts my head up to look at him. His crimson eyes are dark and heady, drowning me. The warm, soft light in my room illuminates him perfectly. His skin glows in the subtle light, golden and god-like.

If Katsuki is a god, then I’m his devoted follower—happily kneeling before him.

Notes:

contains graphic and explicit smut!!!!!! MDNI, 18+ only.

title inspired by "babydoll" by Ella Boh

enjoy :3

I lead Katsuki by the hand through our dimly lit apartment and to my room. I should be self conscious about my lack of pants, but I’m not. My t-shirt is oversized and hangs low, brushing the tops of my thighs and covering my underwear. I push the door open, dragging him in by the hand.

My lights are off save for my small desk lamp. Besides that, only the glow from the waxing moon illuminates my bedroom. 

Thank god I had cleaned up earlier. My bed is neatly made, covered in my dark, emerald comforter and various throw pillows. 

But I don’t take him to my bed.

Yet. 

I turn, pressing his body firmly but gently against my shut door. 

His back hits the solid door and he smirks at me. My lips find his, and for a second, our kiss is innocent and slow. 

A different, patient pace from the one we had earlier. Now that everything is out in the open, we’re in no rush. We have all the time in the world.

My hands snake up his shirt, feeling each ridge and tight wave of his masterfully sculpted abdomen. He catches the hint. 

In one smooth movement, he disconnects his mouth from mine and reaches behind his head. He pulls off his shirt, tossing it behind me on the floor near my bed.

He tries to kiss me squarely on the mouth again, but I pull back and grin. Mischievous. 

My mouth finds his shoulder, lips dancing over the small, nearly invisible freckles there. I plant soft, worshiping kisses on his skin. My hands find his belt. He inhales sharply. 

Then I lower myself to my knees. 

As I sink to the floor, I place an innocent, teasing kiss on his hip bone, right where it’s prominent. I let my lips wander to the sharp cut of his V line, tasting the divot where his muscled abdomen points to his manhood. His breath catches in his throat as I press my moist mouth to his skin. 

At eye level, my unsteady hands start unraveling his belt and tugging his pants down. 

He lets me undress him, watching as I work. I push his jeans down to the carpet and he steps out of them, his belt clinks as he shoves his pants to the side. He’s left in only his tight, black boxers. His body is tight and toned, and his boxers hug him perfectly. He should be in a Calvin Klein ad. I would do anything to see that.

His hardness is prominent and unmistakable in front of my eyes. I think I’m drooling. 

With a tentative motion, I reach up and feel him through the cotton of his boxers. Again, he sucks in a sharp breath. 

His hands find my jaw, and he tilts my head up to look at him. His crimson eyes are dark and heady, drowning me. The warm, soft light in my room illuminates him perfectly. His skin glows in the subtle light, golden and god-like. 

If Katsuki is a god, then I’m his devoted follower—happily kneeling before him.

He swallows, “You don’t have to do this just for me, you know.” He says the words low and slow, restraining himself. 

I grin and my hand palms him, reveling in the size and weight of him. He lets out a short, sharp hiss under his breath as I touch him. It emboldens me. 

I smirk, “Who says I’m doing this for you? This is purely selfish.” 

He just gapes at me, pupils blown. Heavy breathing. Thumb caressing my cheek. Eyes wide and blazing with that blood-red color that occupies my every thought. 

So I work up some courage and I pull his boxers down.

And he is absolutely, fucking massive.

I am immediately intimidated. It's nothing like I’ve ever seen. He’s swollen and his tip drips with precum. Fucking massive.

“Katsuki, I don’t think that’s going to fit,” I say, dumbstruck. 

In my mouth, or anywhere else I think to myself.

He smirks at me, standing over my kneeling form. His thumb brushes against my bottom lip as he stares down at me, witnessing first hand the waning of my confidence.

“It will,” he says, absolute. 

A lead weight drops low in my belly, heady and wanton. And so I try.

With one hand I grip his cock. His skin is smooth and warm and utterly perfect. He’s veiny and large. Long and thick. My cunt pulses around nothing as I imagine how it will feel in my mouth.

And inside my wet, dripping pussy. 

So I hold him and slowly let my open mouth meet the tip. I’m a little shy, but I glance up at him, making sure he’s watching as I let my lips wrap around him and give a tentative suck.

He jolts and groans at the contact, and I watch the muscles in his abdomen contract as he feels my mouth on his most sensitive place. 

I’m extremely turned on, and the idea that I have some sort of power in this dynamic right now is exhilarating. I roll my hips against nothing, seeking friction to soothe this ache in my cunt. 

I suck him in a little bit more, his swollen head fully in the mouth. A bead of precum melts on my tongue and I savor the perfect flavor of him. 

I’m impossibly wet, soaking my already damp underwear with even more slick. I didn’t know I could get so wet. 

Katsuki seems to do that to me.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he says, awestruck. The words light a searing, scalding fire in me. His hand is holding my face, watching as my lips and tongue work around the head of his swollen cock.

I hum at the feel of him in my mouth and the words of his praise.

His body shudders, the vibration of my sounds rattling through him. His chest moves with his labored breaths. My hands dance along his muscular thighs, I take him deeper into my mouth, my tongue tasting the length of him as I push my head further on him. He hits the back of my throat, and it’s not even half of him. I suck hard, hollowing my cheeks. 

“Slow…down…” He says between panting breaths. I look up at him through my lashes. It’s insanely hot watching his eyes squeeze tight and his jaw clench. His head leans back and hits the door gently with a small thud. I stare as his throat bobs as he tries to calm himself. 

I open my mouth and remove it from him, letting a victorious smile dance on my lips.

“Or?” I pry, teasing him from my submissive position on my knees.

He glowers at me from above, looking down and glaring at me with dark, blazing eyes. Even with him standing over me, I fear nothing. 

Well, maybe I’m scared his cock will split me open wide.

His bare chest is a plane of pure muscle and athleticism. Utterly intoxicating. I’m inebriated just staring at him. From this angle below him, he looks like a chiseled, Greek statue. 

Katsuki’s large hand cradles my face while the other wraps itself in my unbound hair. He gazes at me intensely with furrowed brows, staring down with awe and his last bit of restraint.

“I’m going to finish embarrassingly fast if you keep that up,” he says, his words guttural and labored. 

I don’t break away from his stare. I hold him captive as I let my tongue lick a stripe from the base of him and up to the tip, slow and tantalizing. 

“Is that such a bad thing?” I tease sweetly.

He gasps, starting to become undone. I watch the way his body tenses at my every touch. He’s coiled tight, about to snap.

He’s breathing heavily, panting and desperate, “No. But I don’t want to finish in your mouth, I want to finish in you. ”

Holy fuck.

His words are orgasmic, and a spark lights in my core—searing and blindingly bright. I shamelessly realize I so badly want him to finish inside me, filling me with his cum.

Marking me as his and his alone.

So I tilt my head, bat my lashes, and flash a sickly sweet smirk at him. Challenge accepted. 

“Why not both?” I bait.

With that, I take him as far in my mouth as I can handle without blocking off my lungs. I force myself to breathe through it as I work up and down, sucking and licking. I grasp what I can’t fit with my hand, and I work a steady rhythm on his cock.

He groans, low and deep. His hips buck slightly and his voice is a little breathless, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

That encourages me more. The ache in my cunt throbs in a painfully aroused way. I swallow more of him, and I revel in the explicit sounds coming from his throat.

It’s obscene and lewd—the noises from my bedroom. The pleasured moans from Katsuki’s mouth and the wet, sucking that comes from mine. 

I love it. I love the grunts I elicit from him, knowing that I’m causing such pleasure in this specimen of a man. Tall, muscular, confident, and commanding. I’m on my knees before him like he’s some sort of deity, yet he’s at my mercy.

I come up for air for just a moment, catching my breath for a second. Saliva drips down my chin. I lock eyes with him, watching as his garnet gaze pierces through me as I worship his body. 

I don’t look away as I return my mouth to his leaking, reddened head. I keep going, steady and rhythmic. Sucking and licking and moving my hand at the base of his cock. Eyes locked with him. One of his hands is firm on the back of my head and laced into my hair, guiding my movements and forcing me to take more. The other grips my jaw, feeling how my mouth opens wide for him. 

“Fuck,” he swears under his breath, “Shit, I—I’m close.”

He lets out a barely audible whine, deep from the base of his throat. It’s indecent and desperate—his body begging, pleading for release.

I’m dripping wet, and I cant my hips. I’m aching and throbbing and pulsing around nothing. I moan around his wet, swollen dick—the reverberation surrounding his sensitive cock. He’s so close, I can tell by the way he starts gently thrusting deeper and deeper into my throat. His groans get louder and louder. 

My pussy clenches, and I wish I had his fingers or his dick to fill me. To give me something to come around. I want so desperately to touch myself and be relieved of this ache. I’m so extremely turned on by him, especially when I think about how much his dick will stretch my tight, weeping cunt. 

But I trust him to take care of me later. This moment is all about Katsuki. 

I take it all. I take every inch and thrust that he gives me. 

His breaths are heaving and lustful. He’s close to snapping. I stare up at him as I continue my worshipping, wet sucks on him. His head is tilted down, aimed at me, but his eyes are screwed tight. His face is twisted in pleasure. His lips are parted slightly as he pants, his torso moving with each labored breath.

He lets a needy moan escape his lips, pornagraphic and raw. 

“Nghnn…” Katsuki groans, long and drawn out. His breath hitches. 

“Fuck, fuck, fu—”

He pushes into my mouth hard, sinking his fat cock deep into my throat. His body shudders as a tremor of euphoria washes through him. I feel the pulsing warmth in the back of my throat. He’s throbbing, releasing his hot, sticky load.

He cums. Hard. I watch him the whole time as his orgasm runs its course. He’s utterly undone. 

The taste of him on my tongue is divine. It’s so him, in the most raw, animalistic, carnal way. I swallow, not wasting a drop of his release. 

He is gasping. His expression looks near painful. His brows are furrowed, cheeks red, and I see the subtle glisten of sweat on his torso and face. His eyes flash open, taking in me and my kneeling form before him. My face heats up at his attention, and the obscene things I just did to him. 

He growls, a choked sound.

“Get on the bed now.”

-*- { KATSUKI’S POV } -*-

 

 

I need to be inside her right fucking now.

I stare at her body below me, her mouth shiny and lips swollen from the time she spent sucking me off.

My dick throbs, the spell she cast over me caused me to have the most intense release of my life.

My cock stays hard. My brain knows this is not over.

And it won’t be anytime soon.

I’m fighting to catch my breath, to pull myself together after the most insane, mind-numbing orgasm of my life wrecked havoc on me.

I growl at her, overcome with desire and need.

“Get on the bed now.”

I watch as she pulls herself up on shaky legs, pulling my boxers up and grabbing my hips as she stands. She plants a soft kiss on my neck and beams at me, her eyes bright and sparkling.

God, I need her.

I grab her waist to steady her as I lift her, her legs wrap around me instinctively as I start carrying her to her bed. I shove my lips against hers, possessive and demanding. Her wet lips press against mine with equal fervor. 

I set her down gently in the middle of her bed, lying her head down on her plush pillows. I’m kneeling on the bed between her legs, bent over her. 

I pull back and gaze at her, admiring her as she lies splayed on her thick blankets. Her cheeks are warm, hair messy, and thighs spread. 

Her hands snag mine, tugging me back to her.

I pause, soaking in this moment.

Something primal awakens in me as I realize I’m about to fuck her—no, not just ‘fuck’. This is so much more than that.

Regardless, I’m going to have sex with her on her bed in our apartment. 

It’s domestic and organic and it causes a spark of something to ignite in me. I don’t exactly know what to call it. 

She lies there, pliant and waiting for me. She’s in an oversized shirt and simple, black panties, yet it’s the most seductive sight I've seen in my life.

It’s not performative. No lingerie or excessive sexuality. Just her.

And she’s mine.

I crawl over her, covering her body with mine. I notice she’s shaking where our bodies meet. I prop myself up on an elbow and push a lock of silky hair from her face.

“You alright?” I ask her gently, watching her sparkling eyes skim my face. Her cheeks are flushed and her lips are red and plump from the attention she gave my cock. 

“Yeah,” she sighs, breathless. My hand cups her cheek. She tilts and places a chaste kiss on my wrist, right where my pulse point hides.

My chest squeezes.

“Can I take off your clothes?” I ask her. 

She nods slowly, eyes glued to mine.

I sit back a little bit, kneeling between her open legs as I push her shirt up her abdomen.

I watch as her breath hitches when my fingers graze her ribcage. She raises her arms and I pull her shirt off in a single movement.

Her breasts are held back by her violet bra, covering the skin I so badly want to taste. Lace trims the edges, taunting me. Tempting me. 

I’m rendered speechless for a moment as I look down at her perfect figure. “Come here,” I say, and pull her torso to mine.

I adjust us both, and now she is off of the mattress and chest to chest with me. Her legs cage my hips, and my thighs are her seat.

She’s breathless, chest heaving as her wide eyes take me in. We’re in a painfully intimate position. Her arms circle my neck, my hands splay on her back and pull her to me. She’s positioned right where I could easily enter her cunt if it weren’t for our underwear. My hard cock prods her covered entrance, we both shudder. 

I slowly let my hand reach for a single bra strap and pull it down, my lips replacing where it once was.

As I kiss her shoulder, I find the clasps behind her back and slowly unclip her bra.

It drops down between us.

I’m slackjawed at her perfect tits. Round and peaked with her hard nipples.

Instantly I suck one into my mouth and squeeze the other, tweaking and rolling her nipple.

She sucks in a sharp breath. Her eyes squeeze shut and she pushes herself closer to me. I suck as she rocks her hips, grinding on my erection.

I groan, and I so badly want to be inside of her.

I lick her nipple and my other hand explores, squeezing and weighing her flesh in my palm. Gripping and massaging her round, plump tit. 

Now I remove my mouth and let both of my hands grab her naked tits. My palms are full of her soft, squeezable breasts. I can't decide if I want to hold them or lick them or bite them.

So I suck on her chest, below her collarbone. She whimpers and squirms in my lap.

And I fucking love it.

I want her. I need her. She’s essential to my survival.

I’m fully but wordlessly begging for her with my touch. Pawing and licking and holding her tight to me.

When my brain forms words, my voice comes out gruff and pleading. It’s actually pathetic.

“Baby, please. Can I be inside you?”

 

 

-*- { YOUR POV } -*-

 

 

“Baby, please. Can I be inside you?”

Katsuki’s words pierce me, awakening something deep inside me. His hands are squeezing my tits harshly, and it's electrifying.

I moan, “Please.”

He lays me back down on the bed and immediately his hands are grabbing my underwear and pulling them down my legs. I let him.

He then pulls off his boxers and covers my naked body with his own.

We’re skin to skin. Flesh on flesh. The most vulnerable, raw state a human can be—and we’re sharing this moment. Both suspended in this blatant, absolute capacity. 

He doesn’t force my legs open or immediately prod my entrance.

Instead, Katsuki plants soft, innocent kisses on my flushed cheek. One hand is on my waist while the other cradles my face. 

His lips find mine, and my hands get tangled in his blond strands. Our lips dance in sync, moving and pressing and sucking in time with one another. Our mouths are desperate to satisfy their mutual addiction to the other.

It’s so pure and unadulterated that I almost forget the lewd, primal things we just did to each other. His touch is almost innocent, though we’re naked and panting and burning hot with desire. 

The innocence only lasts a moment, because now our lips quicken and crash in a roaring rage. Waves barrelling against a shore. Fire igniting within a tank of gasoline. 

My skin sears where he touches me. My core is blazing and coiled tight. My chest almost aches with how badly I need him. 

I need him.

I need him in the most bodily, venereal, and wanton way. The way humans were made to fit perfectly inside each other. To feel the carnal sensations that only come from sex. 

I’m panting and whining against his mouth. 

He pulls back and locks gazes with me, sincerity writes on every millimeter of his flushed face.

He is breathless, and his eyes seem a little dazed. Evidently, he’s feeling as insatiable as I am.

“I’m going to go slow, okay?” he says, his voice dripping with erotic craving.

I give him a small smile, showing him that I know. That I’m ready. 

“I trust you, Katsuki.”

And with that, he leans back a little and plants his palms on both of my thighs. Slowly, he spreads my legs, watching as my weeping, throbbing pussy presents itself to him. Showing him that I'm ready for whatever he’ll give.

He groans, deep and low.

His gaze leaves my cunt and reaches my face. I’m ablaze with need. His hips are fixed between my spread legs. I see him reach down and grip himself, then he aligns his tip with my entrance. My heart is racing.

I feel as his cock touches my soaked opening. I suck in a sharp breath. I’m balancing on his tightrope. Waiting. Anticipating.

He leans forward. One large hand on my hip while propping himself up on the other forearm. I reach forward and place a palm on his abdomen, stopping him just for a moment.

His eyes flicker to mine, and I can see a small flash of fear flicker there. Like he can see I’m nervous, and he, too, in return.

I take a deep, steadying breath.

“Be gentle with me,” I beg. 

I don’t mean just physically. I mean with my heart, too.

And I think he knows that. He gapes at me, and I watch on bated breath as he lets the words sink in.

He offers me a soft, lilted smile. Pure and genuine.

“Always.”

Then he slowly enters me.

I hiss a sharp inhale, screwing my eyes shut. It’s pure bliss for just a moment. Then, a sharp bite of pain.

He’s big, so fucking big. 

“Give me a second,” I pant, “You’re too big.”

I wiggle, trying to adjust to his size. He can’t be more than two inches in, yet my tight pussy is stretched. He is splitting me apart.

He gives my hip an encouraging squeeze. 

“It’s okay, baby. You can take it.”

I whimper, but his commanding words release a new wave of euphoria throughout my body, willing my pussy to let him enter. It welcomes him.

Katsuki slides in slowly, his grip on my hip holding me down as he pushes in. I’m soused, lubricating him so he can enter me. 

He sucks in a sharp breath, pulling back slightly and stopping for a moment. His tight grip on my pelvis is unrelenting. I think I feel him tremble, like he’s desperately holding himself back.

He’s restraining himself. He’s making sure I’m okay. He’s making sure he doesn’t hurt me.

And that gets me so ferociously heady.

I arch my back and tilt my hips. I spread my legs wide, stretching and making room for his tight body. 

He presses a kiss to my neck, and pushes in again. Further. 

I am scalding with pleasure as I feel the friction of his cock inside me. I whimper, my hands are on his back and nails softly scratching. Silently begging for more. 

I can take it. I can take it. I can take him. 

I have to take him.

His tip kisses my sensitive cervix, yet he pushes in even more. I feel entirely and incredibly full. He pushes and pushes, stretching and filling me until he bottoms out. He's fully sheathed in my aching, tight pussy.

And I don’t think anything has ever felt so amazing in this entire world.

I moan, squirming under his broad body. I’m filled with electricity and tension and all things needy. 

Katsuki exhales the breath he’s unknowingly been holding, his patience now spent. He presses his forehead to my sternum, catching his breath. I feel his warm puffs of air on my breasts. I press a light kiss into his hair.

He lets out a small, muffled groan, looking up at me with that perfect, yearning expression of his. Soft eyes and pink cheeks and plush lips.

He’s stunning. 

“You okay, baby?” he asks, soft and sweet.

I cup his cheeks and press my lips to his just for a moment before parting from him, “Yeah, I’m great actually.”

I really don’t think I’ve ever been better. Yet, I fully believe he can take me places I’ve never been before. It’s elating and terrifying all at once. 

I soak in this moment. I let my finger trace the edge of his face, trailing along his cheekbone and down to his sharp jawline. I cradle his face, beaming at him. He maintains eye contact as he presses a kiss to my palm, tender and romantic.

Then, Katsuki tilts his hips slightly, and I jolt. He’s still buried deep inside me, so the motion makes him prod deep inside me. 

I’m heaving deep, desperate breaths. My eyes screw shut, and I will myself to hold it together. I’m so close to coming undone and he has hardly even moved. 

I’m pleading as I whimper, “More, please.”

He gives me a cocky smirk, and fuck do I love it.

He pulls back and pushes in, dragging through me excruciatingly slow.

And I’m on fire.

The way he stretches me is ruinous. My entire body clenches, including my slick walls that squeeze his cock.

“Fuuuuck,” he nearly collapses on me as he groans into my ear. He’s slightly damp with sweat, but I don’t care. I explore his back and feel the way his body moves under my palms. His broad, strong back stretching and flexing with each thrust and motion.

I’m weightless and pliant under him. Each push stretches me and causes a new wave of heat to bloom in my core. My body openly welcomes him, knowing that Katsuki is perfectly fitting into me.

Like he was made for me, and I was made for him. 

Celestially and divinely crafted for each other. 

He pulls out, and pushes in. Steady, rhythmic, and controlled. The searing knot inside me is building. Growing and drawing taut.

I’m gasping and whining and moaning. My nails scratch his back. My legs cage his waist. My head hits the pillow and my back arches sharply.

I’m close, so close. I don’t want this to end, but I’m aching.

Throbbing and pulsing and clenching around him. I'm burning and blazing, fire creeping through my bones and blood.

“Oh my god, I—I’m close—Nghnn…”

I’m whimpering. I feel pleasure crawl up my spine. I am teetering on the edge.

Katsuki is panting, a sheen of sweat glitters on his forehead, just enough to where some short, blond strands stick to his skin. His thrusts are a little stronger now, I feel him bruising my cervix from his size. I relish in the delightful sensation. 

Then his hand leaves my waist and instead catches under my knee, pulling it up and angled. I’m spread even wider than before, meaning he can reach even deeper.

And he does.

His breath catches in his throat. 

I feel stretched to new limits as he presses and wedges his large cock deep inside me. It feels unbearably perfect. 

Without warning, his teeth nip my neck—and that throws me over the edge. 

I fracture as I come apart, blinded by the wave of pleasure barreling through me. I feel that tight, needy knot inside me snap. I am not wholly present for a moment, like a part of myself left my body. My entire body clenches and I'm shattering under him.

Stars ignite behind my eyes—supernovas and stellar explosions. I am trembling and whimpering and a needy mess.

Katsuki doesn’t slow his pace. In and out, he stretches me. My cunt is clamping down on him, overstimulated and still in the throes of my orgasm. He firmly holds my spread legs, pistoning in and out of me while he keeps me spread open.

Seconds later, he crests his peak. I start to come down from my high as I feel the pulsing warmth of his spend deep inside of me. It’s carnal and possessive and I fucking love it. His face is screwed tight in pleasure, and his jaw falls open as his orgasm tears through his body. 

He nearly collapses on me. Our bodies are sticky and sweaty and I am so overcome with emotion.

As he rides his orgasm, I start to smile, then a giggle escapes me. I kiss his cheek and laugh softly into his skin. 

He beams from where he leans over me. His cheeks are red and his pupils are blown and large. His post-sex appearance is vulnerable and perfect. Wide eyes, glistening skin, and panting breaths.

A true, tender smile graces his lips as he whispers, “Shut up, nerd.”

And his mouth captures mine, sealing the events of tonight—the confessions and the touches and the orgasms—with a gentle, warm kiss.

Notes:

hope you all enjoyed an entire chapter of filthy smut

almost 400 kudos and 7500+ hits? I'm screaming crying throwing up! thank you all dearly!

leave a comment or kudos, or message me on X or TikTok @sukunas_20_fingers_, I LOVE hearing from you guys. You have no idea how much it motivates me. I made an X account for my peeps who don't have TikTok but still want updates!

see you soon with some more development, fluff, and smut… and maybe some angst? who knows

ily all

Chapter 18: sunshine baby

Summary:

Katsuki's gaze is sweet and admiring, like he’s in awe that he’s here in this situation with me.

I feel the same. It all feels like a fever dream, one I never want to wake from.

And if this is all a dream, I’d happily live in this illusion forever—eternally basking in the warmth that is Katsuki Bakugo.

Notes:

contains FLUFF :)

title inspired by one of my fave songs

My head rests on Katsuki’s chest.

His skin is warm, smooth, and a little damp from sex. I don’t mind in the slightest.

My panted breaths that were once heavy are now slowing, along with my racing heart.

My body is gradually coming down from its high. My brain starts to form coherent thoughts as I soak in the touch and smell of Katsuki’s body. 

We just had sex.

Holy shit.

I’ll never be the same.

My mind drifts to the past two weeks—the night I spent in his bed and then time he spent ignoring me. It was hurtful, and I felt a little piece of myself wither and wilt each day that passed.

And to think, that whole time Katsuki was just being stubborn and pushing me away because he likes me. 

He likes me.

I can hardly believe it. 

I sigh as I look up at his face. One of his arms is lifted up and his palm rests behind his head, stretching the skin across his firm torso. His other arm is wrapped around me, pulling me close to his side. His hand is on my lower back, and his fingers draw lazy, delicate circles on my skin.

As I turn my head, the motion catches his attention and he looks down at me. The soft lighting from my lamp illuminates him just right, exhibiting his beautiful and handsome features. A faint smile graces his lips as his scarlet eyes meet mine. 

“Hm?” he mumbles while raising a brow. The low rumble of his voice vibrates through me.

“Was all of that because you were upset about me playing with Eijirou’s hair?”

He groans and scrubs a hand down his face, “Could we not talk about him right now?”

I mean, he’s not wrong. We are naked, bodies pressed together under my dark blankets and soft sheets. My small bedside lamp gives my room a delicate glow, further romanticizing the bliss of the past few hours.

I giggle, but ignore his request. I continue gently, “I just wanted to know why you had ignored me for so long. Why did that bother you so much?”

He rolls his eyes and huffs, “I just… I was jealous I guess.”

Jealous. Wow. I can’t believe he thought he had anything to be jealous about.

My fingertips dance over his side, brushing his ribcage. He flinches slightly, I guess he’s ticklish.

I smile, “Jealous that I was giving Eijirou attention?”

He sighs and presses a soft kiss to my forehead. My heart sets on fire. 

“I don’t know… When you play with my hair it’s… special to me. So I guess I didn’t like when you did it to him… And I guess I was a little jealous especially after the Seven Minutes in Heaven thing.”

I forgot about that. That was so long ago. But I guess that jealousy was what spurred on our first kiss. 

My chest warms and flutters. Katsuki—who is gruff, cocky, and stubborn—is slowly proving to me that he’s actually a big softie. He got jealous because he knows how intimate it is to get his hair played with. 

He’s adorable. 

I smile so brightly my cheeks hurt. I am so insanely happy in this moment. I don’t think I ever want to leave this bed.

For so long, I’ve been telling myself that this could never happen, and now look at us. 

I chuckle and squeeze closer to him, “I will only play with your hair for the rest of my life. Deal?”

His face slackens, and his eyes go wide. Slowly, he brushes his thumb along my bottom lip, watching his finger as it moves.

My words were supposed to be teasing and not too serious, but there is a sincerity to my words that sparks a flame deep in my soul, and I think Katsuki senses it, too.

For the rest of my life I said. Did I mean it?

He looks a little awestruck, but says, “Deal.”

A few moments of silence pass. My eyes flutter closed as I soak myself in the sensations from Katsuki’s warm, bare body. His quiet breaths and tiny, caressing touches. His palm on my back, my ear to his chest. I can hear each steady beat of his rhythmic heart. 

“Hey,” his gentle voice interrupts my thoughts, “I should have asked you earlier but things were kind of… heated…”

I wait for him to continue. A beat, then, “Are you on birth control? Or do I need to grab you a Plan B tonight? Or?”

I chuckle lightly, and I’m thoroughly impressed that he cares enough to worry about those kind of things.

He cares. So much. 

God. I care about him, too. More than I could ever put into words.

I speak without shifting to look at him, I keep my head resting on his muscular chest. 

“It’s okay, I’m on birth control,” I reply.

I feel his body relax slightly, “Okay, good.”

He starts drawing various shapes across my bare back, I focus on the drawings—trying to depict what they could be. 

“Are you okay after everything?” he asks gently as his hand brushes over my skin.

I smile, and press my lips to his skin softly, “I’m more than okay, Katsuki. Perfect, even.”

He hums under his breath, sighing and pulling me closer to him. His hands are on my waist as he moves me like I’m weightless, rolling me on top of him. I gasp, but let out a giggle as he positions me. Now I am completely on top of him, instead of curled against his side. My entire body rests on him.

I prop myself up with one hand on either side of his head as he lies under me. My hair is wild and falling in my face. He reaches it up and pushes it out of my eyes. He lets his hand cup my cheek, thumb brushing my jaw.

His eyes lock with mine, and I can't hide the bright smile on my face as I look down at him. 

Our bodies are pressed together intimately, but it isn’t intimidating or nerve-wracking. It feels… right. Physically and emotionally. Like my soul has been searching for a place it belongs, and it finally found the place it’s meant to rest. 

Under me, his gaze is sweet and admiring, like he’s in awe that he’s here in this situation with me. 

I feel the same. It all feels like a fever dream. One I never want to wake from. 

And if this is all a dream, I’d gladly live in this illusion forever—eternally basking in the warmth that is Katsuki Bakugo.

I tilt my head as I lock stares with him, making sure to check in on him as well. “What about you? Are you alright?”

He gives me a genuine smile—a perfect, lopsided grin. “I’m great. I just wanted to make sure that nothing made you uncomfortable or anything.”

I shake my head. Gently, I lower myself to my forearms, letting my chest press flush with his. My legs are on either side of his waist, straddling his hips. His hands hold tightly to my body, his large hands gripping my waist. Our faces are inches apart. I press a chaste, light kiss to his unblemished cheek.

“Not at all. It was perfect,” I say, sincerely.

He swallows, then asks, “Do you want me to wear a condom next time?" His voice is a little hesitant.

Next time. I think my heart just burst. The countless butterflies that have been caged within finally freed—their wings beating against my ribs and throat as I revel in his words. His promise. 

I shake my head lightly, “No. No condoms.”

His cheeks flush, but he gives me a shy smile, “Okay.”

I press a kiss to his jaw, then I lightly bite his earlobe. He jolts under me and pinches my side lightly.

“Stop that,” he grunts out, I giggle and return my lips to his sharp jaw, my mouth worshiping his skin for a moment.

I pause, something on my mind. “Also, I haven't been sleeping with anyone else, by the way.” 

These are things we probably should have talked about long before having unprotected sex. Then again, this was something I never thought was going to happen. An unrealistic dream. 

But I am so glad that it did.

He brushes his fingers down my spine, “Me neither.” 

My stomach flips at his touch and our blatant, raw conversation.

“And, uhm," I say, "You’re the only person I’ve been with in a really long time.”

Another beat of awkward energy, but he smirks lightly and says, “There’s no one else. Not now, and there hasn’t been for a while. Just you.”

I smile so hard it stings. But I don’t care about the hurt.

“It’s just you for me, too. Only you.” 

I cut myself off as I press my lips to his. 

He pulls me close, gripping my hips and holding me tightly. I prop myself up on one forearm while the other hand grips Katsuki's cheek. My thumb brushes back-and-forth on his clean-shaven skin—unhurried and gentle.

Our lips move together in sync, a mastered dance choreographed within our burning, passionate night. 

When two people are made for each other, these kinds of things fall into place naturally. 

I smile against his mouth, my lips stretching as I kiss him. He pulls back to look at me, his smile mirroring my own.

“What?” he says gently through his grin.

I let my thumb brush across his bottom lip, the flesh moist and plump. 

“Will you stay with me tonight?” I ask softly, unsure why I'm so nervous. 

And every night after?

I’m too scared to ask the second question.

“Of course,” he says, then he reaches for my lamp and switches it off. 

Instantly we’re kissing each other, insatiable in our craving. 

It’s slow and patient, considering we just had sex not too long ago. My lips on his. His hips beneath mine.

He holds me like he never wants to let me go. 

And I never want to be free from his arms.

His hands move down, and I feel as they grab my ass, squeezing and kneading the bare flesh. Pushing and rolling my hips. I moan into his mouth, grinding my core against him. I can feel his dick under me. The tip prods my wet and aching entrance. 

One of his hands moves between us, and I feel him press his thumb to my clit. I let out a small whine, jolting on top of him. 

Gently, I feel his cock touch where I’m wet, a mix of my arousal and his cum soaking my cunt.

Insanely hot.

He starts to enter me slowly, I whine into his mouth at the sensation.

I want more, but his penetration is slow and deliberate.

Teasing. 

Torturous. 

He gives me just an inch, and I’m already squirming. One hand holds my hip and the other traces slow circles on my puffy clit. 

But there’s a sharp pain, and I flinch.

Jolting back, his face pinches with concern.

“Shit, did I hurt you?” he says, his voice laced with worry and apprehension. 

I shake my head quickly, “No, no I’m fine. I’m just… sensitive right now.”

I try to sink myself down on him but he holds my hip, keeping himself out of me. 

A small kiss to my cheek, then he shifts under me, “You stay here, I’ll grab you some clothes and I’ll clean you up.”

I roll off of him, sad that we stopped but really I know I probably need a second to recuperate after having sex with him for the first time. I mean, he’s fucking huge. I’m surprised he fit inside me. I hope I can walk. 

I sigh, “It’s okay, I’ll get up.”

“Are you sure?” he asks me as I throw the blankets off of my naked body and go to stand. My legs are a little wobbly, and I feel an aching emptiness between my legs—my cunt simultaneously hurting from the size of him and begging for more. 

I’m glad my lamp is off as I awkwardly navigate my room. I pray he can only see my silhouette in the darkness.

“I’m sure. I need to brush my teeth and go to the bathroom anyway. You can grab some clothes and come back here when you’re ready, if you want.” 

I quickly grab clean underwear from my drawer and a shirt off the floor. I enter the bathroom and behind me, I hear him enter his bedroom.

When I flip the lights on, I notice that I hadn’t grabbed my t-shirt, but Katsuki’s. I smile as I put it on, purposely opting for no bra. I quickly brush my hair, braiding it loosely and letting it fall down my back. I exit the bathroom in just my blue, cheeky panties and his large Pierce The Veil shirt. 

In the hallway, he’s in a black tank top with grey jogger pants. As his eyes drift to me, I notice how his brain recognizes his shirt draped over my frame. His cheeks grow red. As I approach him, his hands are immediately on me. 

I giggle wildly as he wraps me in his arms and litters my cheeks with kisses.

“Do you want your shirt back?” I ask as his lips brush over my face, “It was dark, so I thought it was mine.”

“Never,” he says between kisses, “It’s yours.”

I’m yours I say silently, only in my head and not aloud. 

I giggle harder as his mouth pummels me, moving from my cheek to my neck. I push him off of me lightly, though I really want to kiss him more.

“You’re getting distracted. Hurry up so we can go to bed,” I say, poking his chest playfully. He huffs and rolls his eyes, but he releases me. He passes me and enters the bathroom, and I get back in bed and curl up under my warm sheets—impatiently waiting for Katsuki’s return.

 

+++

 

During the two weeks of Katsuki being distant, October decided to waltz its way into the calendar. The crisp, cool air in the morning reaffirms that autumn is in its beginnings.

I wake slowly, letting my eyes adjust to my room. I've decorated a little more since we moved in. I have a small shelf above my desk with a 5SOS5 vinyl on display, as well as a framed picture of Momo and I from our trip to Okinawa our sophomore year. 

It’s cold in my bedroom and outside of my blankets, but the warm body next to me keeps me comfortable. 

Now, I smile to myself as I remember the events of last night. How I gave myself to him, and he gave himself to me. 

I’m lying on my side, his arm draped over me. His body is curled around mine, spooning me. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest against my back, his breathing quiet and slow. I think I could live the rest of my life in this spot, and be happier than ever. 

In my room, wrapped in his touch and smell, I am home. 

Katsuki stirs behind me, and his arm squeezes me closer. I shift and turn, now facing him. His hair is soft and fluffy from sleep, his eyes closed and lined with dark lashes.

My palm reaches up and rests on his cheek. Tentatively, my fingers trace the outline of his face—drawing a path down his temple and cheekbone to his sharp jaw. My eyes wander over his features, admiring his perfection.

In the early morning light, he looks so soft. Almost boyish. In my bed, it seems that his rough exterior has cracked. Next to me lies a man who has traded his arrogance for gentleness in my sheets. A part of Katsuki that’s reserved just for me.

There’s a growing feeling in my chest. A warmth that’s so all-consuming and febrile it makes me ache, like being with him is too much for my heart to handle. It’s stretched full, ready to burst from how much I feel for him. 

His eyes flutter open, and he catches me obviously staring at him. Sleepy, scarlet eyes meet mine, but then they close as he shifts and pulls his body flush with mine. 

“Hi,” he groans, his voice rough from sleep. His hold on me is tight and unrelenting in the best way possible.

I smile and kiss the tip of his nose delicately, “Good morning.”

“Do you know what time it is?” he asks, mumbling sleepily. 

I roll my eyes slightly and chuckle, “It’s Saturday, Kats. You can sleep in.”

He yawns, “I have a game tomorrow against Shiketsu. We’re leaving for the airport today at nine.”

I sit up a little bit to look at my alarm clock on my bedside table.

“It’s seven.”

“Shit, we have to jump your car before I leave, too,” he grunts, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. I watch his face as he slowly wakes up. His eyes are becoming more focused and his voice less sleepy. 

I totally forgot that my car was dead in the parking lot of De Luca’s.

I’ve been a little distracted. 

I almost want to pout. I'm sad that he has to leave me so soon, and right after we made up.

Damn, this sucks. I don’t want to be clingy, but I really don’t want him to go. 

“How long will you be gone?” I ask.

“I’ll be back Monday,” He quickly plants a kiss on my cheek and starts getting out of my bed. His tank top is tight on his body, and it had climbed up his abdomen in his sleep. I catch a glimpse at his bare waist peaking out, right above the band of his boxers.

Sexy as ever.

“If you get ready, I’ll make you breakfast,” I offer through a yawn, stretching my arms over my head as I sit up.

He smirks, “Deal.”

I climb out of bed and find some sweats because I’m still in my underwear and his shirt. He goes to his room, I hear him opening and shutting drawers. 

I walk to the kitchen, searching for something to make for us. I hear his room door open, then another door that I assume is the bathroom. The hiss of the shower confirms my suspicion. 

We have some eggs in the fridge as well as bacon. I grab some more things and start to cook. I open my music app and click shuffle, perching my phone on the counter as a song hums through my speaker. “Sunshine Baby” by The Japanese House echoes through our small kitchen.

Soon, I hear the bathroom door open and Katsuki enters the kitchen in just his towel. Beads of water roll down his body as his white towel rests low on his hips.

“Put on some clothes,” I tease him, not at all offended by his nudity. In fact, he can wear next to nothing in this apartment and I would never complain.

Still, I feel my cheeks flush. I try to blame it on the hot stove I’m standing over, but it’s absolutely due to his smooth skin and toned body. Damn, he’s such a fine specimen of a man.

Turning my whore of a brain into mush.

“You like it,” he says, his voice thick with arrogance. I turn away and focus on the food, but soon I feel him behind me—wrapping his arms around my waist. His wet body permeates my (his) shirt, but I don’t mind.

“Keep telling yourself that,” I giggle, flipping over the eggs in my sizzling pan. 

Katsuki presses a kiss to the top of my head as he hugs me from behind, “You’re always checking me out. Even before we lived together.”

I gasp, “Not true!” 

Totally true. A woman likes to appreciate art, is that such a bad thing? Though, I cringe internally at the fact that he caught me. 

“You’re a terrible liar,” he says into my hair.

 

+++

 

Unfortunately, Katsuki gets dressed.​​ Though, his tight Nike Pro compression shirt and loose grey sweats look insanely flattering on him. Effortlessly handsome, per usual. 

We quickly eat together, falling into the casual and easy-flowing rhythm we have gained from our time under the same roof.

“Grab your keys,” Katsuki says, snatching both of our plates and taking them to the sink. I glance at the clock, it’s 7:43 AM.

I quickly grab my purse and some random shoes and follow Katsuki out the door.

It must have rained last night. I was too distracted to notice.

It smells divine. The ground is wet, and small puddles are littered around the sidewalk and asphalt of the parking lot. Drops of water hang off of the tree leaves and cling to the blades of grass on the lawn outside our apartment complex. The sky is dark and grey—weighed down by heavy clouds and keeping the morning sun hidden away. 

The October air hits my face, pinching my cheeks with the beginnings of a cool autumn. I wrap my arms around myself, wishing I would have grabbed a sweatshirt.

“Damn, it’s freezing.”

Katsuki snorts and rolls his eyes, “You’re so dramatic.”

“Oh, hush,” I say through clenched teeth, but I turn away to hide my grin.

He just shakes his head and unlocks his car with his keys. I quickly jump into the passenger seat, clicking on the seat warmers of his fancy Porsche. 

He gets in soon after. After his engine purrs to life, he turns and reaches behind him. In the back seat, he finds a large sweatshirt with “Bakugou” on the back in large letters. 

He tosses it at me, “Here.”

My heart skips a beat. I feel like a teenager on a date with her first crush. Am I a college senior or a high school freshman right now?

I smile and quickly pull the large hoodie on. I feel like a fifteen-year-old girl wearing her boyfriend's varsity hoodie, all giddy and twitter-pated.

Wait, boyfriend. Is that what he is to me?  

Maybe I should wait a minute before asking what we are. We both obviously care about each other, each of us admitting it last night. 

I’m not one to jump into relationships blindly. I like to take things slow. Especially after everything that happened with my mom, it’s hard for me to forget how easily someone can leave you—leave you feeling worthless and unworthy of love.

But with Katsuki, nothing has been slow. We went from distant acquaintances to roommates in a day. He didn’t even know my last name until a few months ago. We were virtually strangers. Now… I’m not exactly sure.

We are much more than roommates, but not exactly lovers. 

We definitely have a connection. A red string of fate tying us together, keeping us tethered.

We share mutual understanding and want for the other. Wholesome, real, and trusting. It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

So no, he’s not explicitly my boyfriend, but he’s mine. 

And I’m his. 

And right now, that’s all that matters. 

The drive isn’t terribly long. We listen to Katsuki’s playlist on the drive, his music shuffling between Sleep Token and 2000’s pop-punk and Radiohead. 

A little jarring for eight o'clock in the morning, but I don’t mind. His car, his music. I also would be lying if I said I didn’t open my phone and add a few songs to my own playlist. 

My phone buzzes, and I let out a laugh.

“What?” Katsuki asks, confused.

Eijirou Kirishima: Hello! Do you still need me to jump start your car?

“It’s Kirishima,” I say, Katsuki’s face immediately sours. “He’s asking if I still need help with my car.”

Katsuki lowers his brows, scowling at the road, “You better say no.” I can still smell the jealousy in his tone. How can he be jealous after what happened last night?

I’m pretty sure I still have his cum inside me.

I roll my eyes and finish the message I was typing. 

Me: Nope, got it covered. Thanks anyways, and thanks for your help last night!

Kirishima sends a thumbs-up emoji and I click my phone off.

When we get to my car, Katsuki immediately opens my hood and his, expertly hooking up the jumper cables in a specific order in which I don’t fully understand.

I stand awkwardly out of his way, wrapping my arms around myself as my body drowns in Katsuki’s large hoodie. The front reads “UAU Football”, and the charcoal grey fabric hangs down to the tops of thighs. 

I love watching Katsuki work—it's meticulous and brawny. I admire him as he leans over my engine bay, attaching the last cable. I quickly pull out my phone and take a picture of him working on my car, giggling to myself. A little souvenir to make sure I don't forget today.

He straightens and dusts his hands off on his pants. The whole ordeal is masculine and oddly comforting. I guess I like being taken care of. It’s a little shocking to the self-diagnosed Eldest Daughter Syndrome in me. I make everyone my project. I’m a perfectionist people-pleaser. I try to fix everything and everyone like it’s my job. 

Now that someone is taking care of me, I almost don’t know how to function. What I do know is the notion that he’s helping me warms me inside out.

It doesn’t take long, and soon my car roars to life. I practically squeal, “Oh, thank god. Thank you!”

I nearly jump in his arms, squeezing him tightly. He goes a little stiff at my abrupt affection, but he offers me a brief hug. 

“Whatever,” he mumbles, and I think I see him blush. It's endearing.

He continues, “You go ahead, I’ll follow you home.”

 

+++

 

Time unfortunately flies, and soon it’s 8:47 AM and I’m standing at the door with Katsuki, his duffel bags by his feet.

He pulls me into a tight hug, squeezing me to his chest. I breathe in his clean, masculine scent, wishing he could stay here forever. I also am enjoying his blatant affection in the confines of our own home.

Our private sanctuary. 

“I’ll be watching your game. Just know I’m cheering you on, Dynamight,” I smile up at him, finishing my words with a wink.

His blond hair moves as he shakes his head and rolls his eyes at me. 

“Nerd,” He presses a kiss to my forehead and my heart lights ablaze.

He pauses, pushing the hair off my cheek. He then says, “I know it’s expensive to go to my games, but if you ever want to, I could get you a ticket.”

I get to go to all the UAU games for free, I even get to stand on the sidelines with the sports medicine staff. Unfortunately, we haven’t had a home game yet this season, Halloween will be our first one. That's a few weeks away. 

I grin at him, looking into his dark, sincere eyes. I see something sparkle there, something like hope.

“I’d love to, Katsuki. Next time.”

His face lights up, his usual scowl long gone. I love this sensitive, soft side of him. 

“Next time,” he says. He presses a firm, passionate kiss to my lips, then he walks out the door. 

I'm left standing alone in our entryway, feeling a new type of loneliness. 

I'm so down bad. 

The last twenty-four hours gave me whiplash in the best way possible. We finally told each other how we feel. We both have been harboring a secret longing for each other. 

Finally, we cleared the air.

I still can't believe he wants me the way I want him. So many days of my heart aching from how badly I long for him.

It's not in a lustful way. I crave his face. His smirk and the sound of his voice. The smell of his body wash. The vibration of his rare laughs and the warmth of his hand in mine. 

I don't know how I'm going to survive the next few days. I've grown quite fond of my handsome roommate. 

I smile to myself, knowing that when he comes back, he will be coming straight here. Right to his home. 

Our home. 

 

+++

 

My Saturday drags on, regardless of how busy I keep myself. 

I go to the grocery store, do a load of laundry, vacuum, deep clean the bathroom, go to the gym, finish my smutty vampire x werewolf novel, and yet I still think of Katsuki.

It's 10 PM now and I'm lying in my bed, fresh out of the shower. My stomach flips remembering what happened here last night. I scroll through TikTok, watching random ASMR videos and short clips from my newest anime obsession.

Katsuki won't leave my head.

Should I text him? Let him know I’m thinking about him?

Is that too forward? I mean, we’re obviously very into each other, but is texting him going to scare him off?

Good hell, I’m overthinking this. 

I open my phone and type a quick text.

Me: How was your flight?

I wait a few moments, then my phone buzzes.

Katsuki #1: Miss me already?

I roll my eyes, but my chest squeezes. I smile to myself and another message pops up.

Katsuki #1: It was fine

I type back quickly.

Me: Good, glad you're safe. Get some rest and good luck tomorrow!

My phone buzzes again.

Katsuki #1: Have a good night

Katsuki #1: Nerd

My smile hurts my cheeks. I think that is my favorite nickname of all time, or maybe it's just the person who gave it to me.

Me: You too.

Me: Dynamight :)

Notes:

500 kudos and 9.5K hits is INSANE omg I love y'all. Thank you all so much for reading my story! Don't worry, it's far from over. I just love you all so muchhhh.

I'm excited to start writing more about Katuski and Reader's new relationship. Lots of fluff, smut, and soft Katsuki incoming. This relationship is new, so there will be some hiccups and arguments along the way, but don't fret, all will be well.

Stick around, I got some good stuff coming + some art from @she.sofyee for the Halloween chapter! Anyone want to guess Katsuki's Halloween costume? I'm tooooooo excited :)

Chapter 19: the winner takes it all

Momo and I wander through Sunday Farmer’s Market aimlessly, the warm afternoon sun kissing my skin. October is absolutely my favorite month of the year. Since it’s one of the first days of the month, Halloween and fall decorations start to litter the cute stalls.

It feels good to be outside in the fresh air. It was rainy the last few days, but today the sun is in its fullest and brightest form—the sky clear except for a few wispy clouds. I inhale deeply, savoring the scent of the earth embracing the approaching change in seasons. 

I’m not complaining about my time cooped up in bed with Katsuki, though. If he were home now, I’d prefer to be in his arms under our roof. No autumn sun could ever tear me from the comfort of his touch.

I’m down bad.

I was happy to see Momo’s name light up my phone this morning. I slept fitfully thanks to Katsuki’s absence, my night was spent tossing and turning in my lonely sheets, so her invitation to go out today lightened my mood.

When I got ready a few hours ago, I chose a thin and soft sweater I found at the bottom of my closet. Since the seasons are just starting to change, I haven't yet broken out all of my warm, fall clothing. The sweater holds stripes of different widths, as well as varying shades of red and burgundy. I slipped on a pair of thrifted jeans and my well-loved Doc Martins. I put small, gold hoops in my ears and I braided my hair into a single plait that fell down my back before slipping out the door. 

I met Momo next door at her apartment. She chose to wear light wash jeans and an oversized, ivory sweater. Her hair loose over her shoulders, with the top half held back by a cream, satin ribbon. 

Now, we carry half-full baskets around the market, pointing out cute, handmade items that catch our eyes. There is a large booth of fresh produce that we both gravitate to. The shelves and baskets are overflowing with fruit—green Granny Smiths and speckled Honeycrisp apples fill my view. Besides those, there are green and yellow squash on display, as well as tiny pumpkins barely larger than my palm. 

“Idea,” I say to Momo as I pick up a few ripe apples to put in my basket, “We should make an apple crisp tonight and watch the football game.”

She gasps lightly, “Oh my god, we absolutely should!” 

She quickly purchases the apples for us, handing the stall's owner some cash. A few stalls down, a couple is selling homemade caramels and fudge. The woman bounces a babbling baby on her hip as she helps a few ladies navigate her items, while the man hands change back to a customer. On one table, they have jars of caramel sauce for sale. They must be popular, because the table, adorned with a linen tablecloth, is already half empty. I buy one of the jars, internally drooling as I daydream about our dessert tonight. 

I find a pretty patchwork quilt a small, elderly woman is selling. The perfect squares are multiple patterns and colors—varying between browns, creams, oranges, and yellows. Some squares are different variations of plaid or gingham, while other squares have tiny pumpkins and leaves. 

“This is beautiful!” I say, mostly to myself. Momo agrees quickly and we both stare in awe. I hand the quilt’s artist my card without a second thought. Her frail, wrinkled hand swipes it and hands it back to me with a smile on her face. I watch as she folds the quilt expertly, tying a bow around it and slipping it into a large paper bag.

It’s expensive, but completely worth it. I can already see it spread across Katsuki and I’s couch. I thank her again as I take the handmade blanket from her hands. 

I end up buying a few more fall decorations for the apartment. I purchase a garland of autumn leaves and pinecones that I plan to lay across the entertainment center in the living room, plus some other small things—homemade soap made with cocoa butter, a pair of knit, knee-high socks, and a coffee cake scented candle. The bags in my hands have grown heavy, and my bank account has taken a hit.

“Did you see Aizawa’s email yesterday?” Momo asks as she sips on her honey latte, interrupting my thoughts of how domestic it is to purchase a blanket I plan to share with my handsome roommate. I was busy wondering what it would be like to be tangled with him under it. 

I turn to her quickly, shaken from my daydreaming trance, “No, what was it?” I’m always checking my school email, so I’m immediately nervous when I discover I’ve missed something important. 

Momo shrugs, her obsidian hair bouncing with the movement, “Something about having an extra credit opportunity coming up. He said he would fill us in in class this week. I wonder what it is.”

I sigh, grateful I didn’t miss anything too important. I share the same thought as Momo, I wonder what this extra credit assignment could be.

As we leave the market, our arms are full as we step on the first of many leaves to fall this month. The crunch under my boots stirs nostalgia in my soul. The thick blanket of branches from the tall trees around us are starting to turn amber and orange overhead. The grass lawn is still green, but is beginning to dry and give the faintest hint of the incoming cold. With the autumnal equinox now passed, the world welcomes the new transition of seasons. 

"Have you given any more thought into your plans after graduation?" Momo says out of nowhere.

I groan slightly, shifting the bags in my hand awkwardly as we make our way to Momo's car. 

"I'm trying not to think about it."

"You can't ignore this forever," she says softly.

I quirk an eyebrow at her, "You're awfully concerned about my future."

She smiles and shakes her head sarcastically, "God forbid I care about my best friend."

I nudge her with my own shoulder, "I know, I know. I need to stop procrastinating."

She doesn't say anything. We continue our walk to her car in comfortable silence, yellow leaves crunching underfoot. I can't help but think about another factor that's influencing my future, something that's causing me to overthink where I want to apply and where I want to move.

A certain hot-headed man I can't get out of head. 

 

+++

 

We make it back to my apartment soon after. I turn on the lamp in the corner and light a few candles, including my new one, around the kitchen and living room. Momo plops herself down on the couch. She clicks on the TV with the remote and starts searching through Netflix for a Halloween movie. 

I steady myself internally. Today, I tried to act calm and unbothered. My head, on the other hand, was bursting. The events of this weekend have my heart and brain full.

Full of hope, affection, and a little bit of nervousness.

Everything has happened so fast. My feelings for Katsuki have been steadily growing like a bright dandelion on a manicured lawn—hard to get rid of and impossible to ignore.

Then again, it's something I fear will never go away, and I'm perfectly alright with that.

The best part of it all is that he feels the same way I do. He told me so—showing me how he feels with his words, hands, and mouth.

I think of his face and thick blond hair. Defined jaw, rare smirk, and crimson eyes. My stomach flips. I swallow and approach Momo. 

“Now that we’re back, I have something insanely major to tell you.” I say suddenly. 

All morning, I’ve been fighting the urge to tell Momo about everything that happened with Katsuki on Friday. I knew I wanted to tell her in person, so now is the perfect opportunity. 

I plop down on the couch next to her, her eyebrow lifting quizzically. I wring my hands together in my lap, “So, after you and I had dinner on Friday, Katsuki and I talked.”

Now both of her brows raise in surprise, she turns to me, “And?”

“And,” I start, “we had sex.”

“What?!” She nearly screams, both of her hands fly up and cover her mouth.

“Why did you wait so long to tell me?! Holy shit! Tell me everything!” Her words spill out faster than I thought humanly possible. 

I cackle, clutching my stomach as it aches with laughter, “I’m sorry! It was just a lot to process, and I am still processing everything.”

I smile as I say, “But, all in all, we’re good. Really good.”

I tell her about Katsuki confessing his feelings for me, and me returning the sentiment. I spared a lot of details when it came to us having sex. Those memories are meant for just us. A sacred experience that only we are privy to. I finish by saying we had slept together in my bed. I can feel my face warm as I recount the events, remembering the way his mouth and hands felt on my skin. 

Momo’s face is pure shock and disbelief. I chuckle at her expression as she stares at me wordlessly.

“Are you going to say something?” I laugh.

“Oh my god. I don’t know what to say.” She twists a lock of ebony hair around her finger.

“I’m happy you guys kissed and made up, literally,” she finally says. I snort at her comment. 

I inhale deeply, feeling the heat in my cheeks as my stomach flips thinking about Katsuki.

“I’m really happy, Momo. I just… I really want this to work out.”

She reaches over and grabs my hand, squeezing it, “It will. I’m so happy for you.”

I can tell my the smile on her face that she means it, too.

A pause, then, “So are you guys exclusive now, or what?”

I shrug, “We haven’t put a label on things. Everything happened so fast, and now he’s gone to Shiketsu so we haven’t really had time to communicate and flesh out this thing between us.”

I fidget in my seat, “I’m not too worried about it right now, though. I know he has feelings for me, and I feel the same way. I guess we will see where this goes.”

“I can't believe you guys are also living together when you’re just starting a relationship...” Momo thinks aloud.

I nod slowly, thinking and silently agreeing.

It’s true. Most couples don’t move in with each other for a long time, and Katsuki and I have been together from the start.

It’s the thing that forced us together, and I’m forever grateful, but I sure hope it won’t be the thing that forces us apart.

After a few moments of silence, Momo's eyes widen and her jaw goes slack, "Oh shit, so that's what I was hearing the other night."

My cheeks burn hot, searing the tips of my ears and dropping down to my neck. 

"Shut the fuck up, you heard us?" I am absolutely, positively mortified. How could I have forgotten that my best friend's apartment shared a wall with mine. She probably heard everything.

She erupts into loud cackles, clearly amused at my humiliation, "I totally heard something suspicious, but I didn't remember until now."

I cover my face with my hands, but soon I'm wildly laughing along with my best friend.

"It must have been good if I could hear you guys," Momo chuckles, gasping for air.

I shake my head and wipe tears of mirth from my eyes, "You have no idea." 

 

+++

 

Momo and I are busy in my kitchen; I stir the simmering, sliced apples while she mixes together the crumble that will bake on top of them. The scent of caramel and cinnamon fills my nostrils, releasing an absurd amount of serotonin in my brain.

It’s about 5 PM now, so we turn on the TV to the football channel where the UAU game will be broadcasted. There are sports journalists and announcers holding a pregame show, talking about each team's stats and key players. I see Shiketsu’s team captains on the screen. I watch casually until it switches to UAU’s team. The captain’s pictures flash across the screen now, showing Iida, Bakugou, and Midoriya. 

My heart squeezes seeing Katsuki’s face. It’s a picture taken from the same media shoot as the poster that hangs outside of Kamino’s. His jersey and shoulder pads accentuate the broadness of his shoulders and the musculature of his waist. A large #1 is on his jersey. His face is pure confidence and smugness. It’s insanely attractive, per usual. His lips are slanted in a small, cocky smirk. A favorite expression of mine.

“I’m looking forward to seeing UA’s primary running back, Katsuki Bakugou, on the field today,” I hear an announcer say. It’s some man in a crisp, pressed suit. He speaks in the usual, deep tone and cadence sports announcers always do. 

“Me as well,” the man next to him says. “As a senior, this is his time to make his mark. There are talks about his future in the professional league, but no confirmation. Any professional team would be lucky to have him running the ball. I'm excited to see his name in the upcoming draft.”

Momo takes the apples from me and pours them into a pretty ceramic dish, topping it with the dry mixture. She places it in the oven while my eyes stay glued to the TV in the other room. My heart squeezes as they fuss over Katsuki, knowing that going professional is all he's ever wanted.

Another announcer from the table of men chimes in, “Earlier this season, he had a minor injury that took him out for about a month. You can hardly tell, as it seems he’s better than ever.”

The screen flips to some highlights of Katsuki as they continue talking about him. A small flame in my chest lights, reminding me that he’s mine. I am so lucky.

Even if he wasn’t the star. Even if no one knew his name. I am still so, so lucky.

And damn, I’m so proud of him. He’s worked his ass off his whole life for this recognition, and he deserves every ounce of it.

I’m sure he’s not on his phone—he rarely is even when it’s not gameday. I bet he’s getting dressed in the locker room now, probably listening to the loud, heavy metal he loves. Still, I pull out my phone, shoot a picture of the TV screen, and send him a text.

Me: *photo message*

Me: Good luck, Dynamight, I’ll be cheering you on from home!

Home. That word again. The one that sparks the wick in my hopeless, romantic heart. 

 

+++

 

Momo and I order pizza and watch the game from my couch. The room is illuminated only by candles and the warm glow from my lamp. We stretch the soft, heavy quilt I bought today over both of us while we watch. It’s a cozy, comforting setting. And, watching Katsuki run the ball into the endzone three times makes my stomach flip. 

The game ends, UAU beating Shiketsu 28-14. 

Momo and I celebrate the win with some dessert, each of us eating the apple crisp straight from the dish after drizzling the whole thing with caramel. We watch the sports journalists interview some players on the field, Kirishima and Midoriya being some of them. They announce Katsuki as Offensive Player of the Game, and my heart bursts with pride.

Both of our phones buzz simultaneously, and I pick mine up.

Mina: After party at Gran Torino’s!

Momo and I share a look. “Do you want to go?” she asks me.

I think for a moment, then shrug and say rhetorically, “Why not?”

Katsuki’s gone anyways, there is no reason for me to wait around and sulk at home. I’m already dressed from my outing with Momo earlier, so I don’t really have to get ready. I shovel in a few more bites before cutting myself off and grabbing my things. I blow out the candles burning around the room and flip off the lights as we leave. 

 

+++

 

Gran Torino’s is a sports bar not too far from campus. It rests on a popular street called Hosu Ave. Many bars and restaurants stretch down both sides of the road, making it a popular spot for UA students on the weekends. 

It's within walking distance, but I decide to drive us there on the off chance that it rains. I luckily find a close parking spot, slipping in just as the previous car drives off. On game days, Gran Torino’s offers student discounts, causing the bar to be filled to the brim as we all watch UA play on the multiple TVs on the brightly decorated walls. 

The road is illuminated by the street lights and neon signs. I embrace the slight chill in the air as Momo and I walk down the sidewalk and approach the front doors. 

Loud, 1980’s rock music thumps from speakers and hits me in the face. I instantly recognize the song as "Hammer to Fall" by Queen. The air smells heavily of beer as we weave our way through the crowd. I hear the familiar crack of a cue ball hitting another on a billiards table. The bar is just like any other sports bar—neon signs of alcohol companies, tall stools, fried food, and dim-lit bathrooms. The walls are covered in old license plates, street signs, and posters of past UAU teams and athletes who went pro.

The bar is swamped with students. It’s mostly seniors thanks to the requirement of being twenty-one years old to enter, so I know most of the people here. I recognize many classmates and greet them briefly as I pass in search of my other friends. The cheerleaders stayed home from this game because it was so far away, so I spot Mina and Ochako quickly. It's rare we get to see them on game days.

“You made it!” Mina says, squeezing me tightly in an embrace. There’s a warmness to her cheeks, revealing the alcohol already in her system. Ochako’s cheeks are naturally pink, so it’s hard to tell if she’s blushing or inebriated. 

“Hi, friend!” Ochako says, “Do you want a drink?”

I decide not to drink tonight since I drove, so I ask for a Shirley Temple like an eight-year-old. Momo asks for anything that’s fruity and not beer. Ochako laughs and walks away from us, heading toward the crowded bar. 

The multicolored lights, loud music, and neon signs instantly give me a dull headache. Maybe I should have brought some Tylenol with me.

“Did you watch the game? Kiri did soooooo good,” Mina says, her words slightly slurred as she dotes on her friend. I smile internally, remembering Eijirou's secret feelings for his pink-haired friend. 

Ochako comes back with our drinks in hand. I thank her and take mine, immediately popping the cherry in my mouth. 

“He did great,” Momo says, sipping on her drink, “They all did.”

“Oh my god and Bakugou!” Mina grabs my arm, “He did sooooo good, girl. You better tell him.”

I flush, praying the dimly lit dive bar hides my blush. I attempt to wave her off, “Yep, he played great.”

Ochako’s eye flick between Mina and I, and I can tell she senses something. Ochako has definitely been out of the loop when it comes to Katsuki and I's... situation.

Kyouka approaches us, interrupting the awkward lull of silence. 

I’ve never been so happy to see her. Her choppy hair is mussed in a perfect, edgy way. Her silver jewelry dangles from the piercings in her ears.

She slings an arm around Ochako, “Who wants to do some karaoke?” Her voice has a hint of drunkenness to it as well.

“Me, me, me, me! I do, I do!” Mina says, bouncing up and down. Thank god her glass is empty. She shoves the cup toward me and instantly turns away, following Kyouka through the crowd of college students. Ochako, Momo, and I erupt into laughter at her antics. 

After a few minutes, the song on the speakers changes, and I hear “Holding Out for a Hero” by Bonnie Tyler start playing. “Oh, hell,” I mumble to myself, but my friends hear me. Instantly, the three of us cackle and try to find our drunk, singing friends. 

We find Mina and Kyouka on a small, makeshift stage in the corner of the buzzing bar. Kyouka’s amazing voice instantly draws a crowd, and Mina doesn't sound awful either. Even a few drinks deep, they are both insanely talented. 

We find a tall table with three stools close by and perch ourselves close to our friends. We cheer and sing along with Mina and Kyouka to the 1984 classic.

Suddenly, I feel my phone buzz from my back pocket.

Katsuki #1: Thanks, nerd.

Katsuki #1: See you tomorrow

And I smile at my phone like an idiot. It's hours later, but Katsuki finally saw my text.

The songs ends, and Ochako joins Kyouka on the stage and grabs a microphone from Mina. Mina takes her place at our table, her cheeks red and flushed. “The Winner Takes It All” by ABBA is Ochako’s song of choice. 

I bask in the music and presence of my friends. I find myself glad I’m not drinking. I want every, sober fiber of my body to soak in the happiness that comes from my close friends who I love so much, engraving the genuine feeling into my soul. 

I type a message back to Katsuki quickly.

Me: See you then. Fly safe. 

Before I can return my phone to my pocket, I see his message pop up. 

Katsuki #1: I miss you

I’m pretty sure my heart just burst. I’m smiling ear to ear, tuning out the thrumming, wild crowd around me as I start to text Katsuki. 

My thumbs hover over the keyboard, unknowing of what they should type next.

Really I want to say every thought that comes to mind. How I miss him so terribly I ache inside. How last night, I touched myself and thought of only him—his skin, his lips, his hands, and his moans. His name on my tongue as that knot inside me burst into ecstasy. How it’s been barely more than a day and I can barely function without him. How I unbearably need him next to me at all moments of the day. How he took half of my heart with him when he left our apartment.

Instead, I type four words.

Me: I miss you, too.

I stare at the screen, watching as those teasing three dots pop up, notifying me that he’s typing back.

Katsuki #1: Let do something tomorrow night 

My heart skips a beat. My fingers fly over my keyboard.

Me: Sure. It’s a date :)

Katsuki #1: You said it, not me

Katsuki #1: But fine, it’s a date. 

I don’t think I’ve ever smiled so hard in my life. Can this much happiness fit in my chest? I’m pretty sure I can feel the emotions trapped inside my ribs threatening to break free, rattling the walls of its cage. 

Tragically, my mood is immediately soured. 

From the corner of my eye, I see a familiar, golden-haired girl approach me. My stomach sinks as I realize who it is.

Camie’s long hair is tied up in a ponytail, thick curls bouncing as she walks. She closes the distance and stands next to me at my table.

How rude would it be to get up and walk away?

The room is loud, so she leans close to me. Momo and Mina are oblivious to Camie's presence, both are too focused on cheering for Ochako and Kyouka. An outsider would assume she’s a friend by the smile plastered on her face and her confident, comfortable body language. I know her intentions, though, and they’re not friendly.

“I keep running into you, but I keep forgetting your name. Silly me! What is it again?”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes, “Hello to you, too.” I sip on my drink and try not to look at her. I don't remind her of my name. For the first time tonight, I wish I had alcohol. I focus on Ochako and Kyouka bouncing around the stage while singing, the lights and sounds filling my senses as I try to make sure there’s no room for me to hold any concern for Camie.

Camie twists her long hair around her fingers, playing with the amber locks. 

“This is the first time I’ve seen you without Bakugou in a while. I started assuming you were his little puppy the way you’re always following him around.” 

A chill climbs up my spine. “What are you getting at?” I snap back, only for her to hear. I try to focus on my friends dancing around the stage, listening to the words closely. Camie's trying to get under my skin. 

And shit, it’s working. 

Camie cocks her head, batting her thick lashes as an evil grin possesses her lips, “Funny, you weren’t with him last weekend, though.”

I immediately sense a second meaning to her words, and my stomach turns to stone. I feel the blood drain from my face as alarm shudders through me. 

“What do you mean?” I say, an obvious change in my tone as I fear her answer. Dread plunges to the bottom of my belly.

I watch as her smile curls into pure malice. She knows she baited me. She knows she won this battle.

“Didn't he tell you?” Camie blinks and feigns innocence, “Last weekend, he was with me.”

Notes:

definitely listened to lots of 80's power ballads writing this chapter. best era of music by FAR.

thanks for reading as always! I wonder what the reader thinks about Camie's comment... SORRY FOR THE DRAMA but things will be better soon, TRUST. Katsuki will be coming home and all will be well... right? *mwuahahaha*

chapter 20 is one of my absolute favorite chapters so far, I can't wait to post it for you guys :)

TikTok: @sukunas_20_fingers_
X/Twitter: @sukuna_author

I'm so excited to keep writing about their new and growing relationship, PLUS autumn is like the most cozy and romantic season of all. It'll be so fun to write about their budding romance in the turn of the seasons, lots of cute dates in store.

coming soon: fluff and smut, soft Katsuki, and some art from @she.sofyee!