IT'S BAKUGO KATSUKI'S DAY LETS FUCKING GOOOO

his fantasy!au design is something..

tell my mom we're in love | h. sero

fake dating wasn't on your holiday to-do list—until sero invited you home for tamales and chaos (3525 words)

you regretted this the moment you stepped out of the dormitory and into the sharp chill of mid-december air, a duffel bag hanging off one shoulder and your dignity already teetering on the edge. trailing beside you was hanta sero, practically vibrating with the smug energy of a man who had just talked his best friend into making the worst decision of her academic career.

and technically, he had.

somewhere between his mother's increasingly invasive matchmaking attempts and his inability to say the word "no" like a normal person, he'd decided the solution was to invent a girlfriend. and of course, of course, he'd chosen you.

"come on," he said now, as a cab idled at the curb, white exhaust curling into the crisp air like smoke from a slow-burning disaster. "tell me this won't be fun. just a little bit."

"i think i'm too emotionally aware to find this fun," you muttered, hoisting your bag into the trunk as he leaned beside you with his usual careless grace.

sero grinned—that unbothered, insufferably pretty grin that always made it harder to stay annoyed with him for long. "emotionally aware, huh? sounds like you're already getting into character."

you leveled him with a look. "if i'm your girlfriend, you're going to need to stop flirting like a golden retriever with a god complex."

"babe," he said, slipping into the backseat beside you with the kind of unearned confidence that should have come with a warning label, "flirting is literally how i survive in social settings. don't take this from me."

you stared out the window, hoping the freezing glass would cool the creeping warmth crawling up your neck. "we're not actually dating, hanta."

"right," he said, and he sounded amused, not wounded. "but we could be really good at it."

you didn't answer. he didn't press.

the cab pulled away from the dorms, and for a moment the silence between you was companionable, like it always had been. you'd known sero for years now—long enough to understand that his laid-back demeanor was as real as it was performative. he was the kind of person who made a room feel lighter just by being in it, but who also knew the weight of silence better than most people ever would.

he didn't make you feel like you had to be anyone but yourself. and that, unfortunately, was the root of the problem.

somewhere along the road from "we're just friends" to "please pretend to be my girlfriend so my mom stops trying to marry me off," things had started to shift.

not all at once. not obviously.

but they shifted.

now he was dozing beside you, his head tilted toward your shoulder, and every bump in the road made him inch closer. you should have nudged him off. you should have drawn the line.

but you didn't.

instead, you studied the soft lines of his face—the relaxed set of his mouth, the faint crease between his brows like his dreams were just a little too fast for his thoughts to catch—and you wondered what the hell you'd gotten yourself into.

by the time the cab slowed, the sun had dipped low, casting golden light over a neighborhood that looked far too idyllic to be real. sero's house was two stories of warmth and welcome: string lights curled along the porch railing, a wreath hung slightly crooked on the front door, and smoke drifted lazily from a chimney that promised something warm inside.

standing at the threshold was a woman with sharp eyes, a kind smile, and the unmistakable aura of someone who could both bake you cookies and emotionally destroy you in the same breath.

sero's mother.

you froze.

he didn't.

without hesitation, sero leaned in, brushing your hair behind your ear like it was the most natural thing in the world. his voice dipped just low enough for only you to hear. "smile like you love me."

then he reached for your hand.

his fingers, long and warm, laced effortlessly through yours.

you didn't pull away.

and that was the moment—standing at the edge of his childhood, your fingers locked in his, heart skipping in the kind of rhythm you weren't prepared for—that you realized you were in far more danger than you thought.

because part of you didn't want to let go.

the cab hadn't even rolled to a full stop before sero's mom was standing in front of it, arms crossed, eyes already locked onto her target like a seasoned general. you had seen pictures, sure—sero had shown you a few over lunch one day, swiping through images of his mom with an almost reverent fondness—but none of them did her justice.

she was radiant. that was the first word that came to mind. not in some soft, dreamy way, but in the sharp, unmistakable warmth of someone who had mastered the art of existing unapologetically. she had a scarf looped carelessly around her neck, dark hair pinned up with wisps escaping, and that immediate, unnerving energy unique to mothers who know everything before you say a word.

"hanta," she said brightly as you approached. "you took forever, mijo. i was about to call."

and then her eyes slid to you.

her whole face changed.

"qué linda," she said, stepping down toward you without hesitation. "you're even prettier than the pictures."

you opened your mouth to answer—say something polite, maybe even charming—but instead you were pulled into a hug so warm and familiar you forgot how to speak altogether.

she smelled like cinnamon and butter, like café and home. her arms wrapped around you without hesitation, solid and reassuring, and you blinked twice before realizing she wasn't letting go just yet.

she pulled back, hands on your shoulders, eyes scanning your face with curiosity. "how old are you, mija?"

"seventeen," you managed. "ua student. same class as hanta."

"top twenty," sero chimed from behind you, proud and useless.

his mom smiled wider. "good. you'll need that to keep up with him. he talks too much."

"i'm right here," sero said, offended.

"and what's your quirk, sweetheart?" she asked, guiding you inside like she owned every molecule of the house—which she probably did.

"just a luck quirk," you replied. "it's not anything big or flashy."

"flashy's overrated," she said. "flashy gets you on magazine covers, but smart keeps you alive. hanta could use some of that balance."

sero made a wounded noise. "i'm right here."

you stepped into the house and tried not to gape. it was warm and lived-in, with mismatched furniture and soft lights, and framed photos in every direction. you passed at least three different versions of baby sero—one with cake on his face, one dressed as a shark, and one in a tiny suit looking like he'd lost a bet.

you were immediately ushered to the couch, where sero flopped down beside you like he'd done this a thousand times. his arm stretched along the back of the cushions behind you, easy and casual, but you felt the heat of it like a brand against your neck.

his mom sat in the armchair across from you, one leg crossed, hands folded, expression deceptively pleasant.

"so," she said. "how long have you two been together?"

"six months," you and sero answered in unison.

your eyes met. you both smiled.

it was practiced, but god—it didn't feel like a lie.

"how'd you meet?" she asked next.

sero leaned forward like he was telling a secret. "training. she beat up kaminari. i've never recovered."

you tried not to laugh. "he followed me around for a week."

"i was courting you."

"you were loitering near vending machines."

"i was being persistent," he corrected. "it worked, didn't it?"

his mom watched you both, eyes narrowed just enough to make you sweat.

"and what do you like about my son?" she asked you, suddenly.

your mouth went dry.

sero glanced sideways, surprised.

but the answer came easy.

"he's reliable. and funny. and he listens—really listens. like you're the only person in the room."

you could feel sero's eyes on you, and the room felt warmer than it had a second ago.

"he's easy to be around," you said, a little softer now. "i feel like i can breathe near him."

a long silence stretched across the room.

then sero bumped your shoulder with his own, voice low. "you're not supposed to make me blush in front of my mom."

his mom smiled, pleased. "i like you."

you smiled back, because how could you not. "thank you."

"i made tamales," she said, rising to her feet. "sit tight. i'll get you a plate."

"do you need help—?" you started, half-standing.

"no, no. you're a guest. you sit and let yourself be adored."

she vanished into the kitchen with surprising speed.

the moment she was out of earshot, you collapsed sideways onto the couch.

"i blacked out," you whispered. "what did i even say?"

"that i'm amazing and you love being around me," sero said smugly.

you shot him a look.

he leaned a little closer, voice dropping. "also, you were adorable. you didn't have to go that hard. i almost forgot it was fake."

you didn't answer.

⊹ ࣪ ˖

dinner came after a comfortable lull in the afternoon—just enough time for you to grow used to the house's warmth, the quiet hum of kitchen sounds, and the sound of sero humming to himself as he helped his mom plate tamales. there was something undeniably domestic about it—watching him lean over the counter, sleeves pushed up, swiping a bit of masa from the corner of a dish with a grin when he thought no one was watching.

you caught yourself watching.

a little too long.

and when he turned around and caught your eye, offering you a wink that made your stomach stutter—you looked away, pretending to study the wall like it had secrets.

the house filled slowly with more noise, more feet, more voices. by the time dinner was ready, the table was surrounded by people—his siblings, all younger, all chaos incarnate. there were five in total, ranging from what looked like barely ten to maybe sixteen. all of them clearly adored sero, and all of them clearly had a thousand questions about you.

"are you really his girlfriend?" one of the younger girls asked, blinking up at you from her seat at the far end of the table.

sero, already sitting beside you, reached for your hand under the table without hesitation. "of course she is," he said easily. "she puts up with me. that's gotta mean something."

you glanced sideways, surprised by the way his thumb started tracing circles into your palm. his fingers were warm, his grip relaxed, like this was a habit and not a performance. your first instinct was to pull away—but you didn't. you let him hold on.

"do you like him?" one of the boys asked bluntly, somewhere between a dare and a test.

you looked over at sero, who was already looking at you.

and the smile that spread across his face wasn't teasing. it wasn't even smug.

it was soft.

"i do," you said honestly. "he's easy to like."

one of his sisters actually swooned.

their mother returned from the kitchen, a stack of warm plates balanced in her arms. "aye, look at you two," she said fondly, setting down the food. "you look like you've been married five years already."

sero snorted. "that's because she already tells me what to do."

"someone has to," you said, nudging his leg under the table.

his knee pressed into yours and didn't move.

the meal began in full, voices rising over each other, stories flying back and forth like birds across the table. tamales were unwrapped, passed down, devoured. rice and beans steamed in bowls at the center. someone spilled horchata and got teased for it for fifteen minutes straight.

sero kept his hand under the table the entire time.

sometimes on your knee. sometimes brushing your fingers. once, briefly, resting on your thigh with a touch so casual and confident you forgot how to breathe for a second.

"so how did you know?" his mom asked halfway through the meal, raising an eyebrow. "that you liked each other, i mean."

you blinked. "um."

sero didn't miss a beat.

"she made this face at me once," he said, totally serious. "during training. right after i got my ass handed to me. and i thought—yeah. i'd let her ruin my life."

you choked on a sip of water. "that's not what happened."

"you raised your eyebrow," he insisted, "like i was both impressive and pathetic. it was very motivating."

"you were bleeding."

"romance is about timing."

the table erupted in laughter.

"you're ridiculous," you muttered, but there was no bite to it. you felt lightheaded from smiling too much.

his younger sister leaned over the table toward you. "you make him less annoying," she said seriously. "he's, like, way less weird with you here."

"he's still weird," someone else muttered.

"hey," sero said, deeply offended. "i'm the glue of this household."

"you're the glitter glue," one of the boys shot back. "unnecessary and all over everything."

the conversation swirled, but it was warm. easy. you felt like you'd slipped into a rhythm you hadn't known you were missing. sero's family didn't make you feel like an outsider. if anything, they treated you like a permanent fixture—like they already liked you, just because he did.

and sero—he kept looking at you.

in the quiet moments between bites. when you laughed at something his brother said. when you wiped your fingers on your napkin and he passed you your drink like he'd already anticipated you'd reach for it.

"you're really good at this," you whispered during a lull, leaning in.

"at what?" he asked, voice low, chin tilted toward you.

"this," you said. "pretending."

his eyes flicked down to your mouth, just for a second.

"what can i say," he said quietly. "i'm something of an actor."

you snickered.

and then his mom called your name from across the table.

"you like dessert, mija?" she asked, already bringing out the plates.

you blinked twice before answering, forcing a smile. "of course. thank you."

sero didn't look away from you for a long time.

dinner had long ended. the noise had faded. sero's house, once pulsing with overlapping voices and clattering plates, now thrummed with a different kind of energy—low, contented, quiet.

his siblings had scattered, full-bellied and sugar-sticky, off to bedrooms and couches and wherever else they disappeared to in the evening. someone had turned on a dusty old playlist in the den, and the soft hum of vintage boleros curled through the walls like warmth that refused to die.

you stood in the hallway between the dining room and the back door, hovering in the in-between of things: of conversations and thoughts, of what was real and what had only started out that way.

you weren't sure what to do with your hands.

or your heart.

sero appeared beside you like he always did—quiet-footed and comfortably close, smelling faintly of soap and masa and something sweet from dessert you hadn't caught the name of. his sleeves were still pushed up, revealing his forearms, and you hated that you were looking at them. not because they weren't worth looking at—they were—but because it meant your guard was down. again.

"come on," he said softly. "balcony?"

you didn't answer. you just nodded and followed.

the air outside was sharp and clean. the kind of cold that wakes you up without being cruel. you wrapped your arms around yourself more out of instinct than discomfort. the balcony was small, with a windchime shaped like a lizard hanging from the overhang, and a view of soft suburban rooftops and yellow windows scattered like lanterns across the horizon.

you leaned against the wooden railing. he did the same.

neither of you spoke.

you were too full of the evening. of tamales and laughter. of too much touch under the table. of words you'd said with a smile that weren't lies—but weren't supposed to be true either.

the problem wasn't pretending.

the problem was that pretending didn't feel like pretending anymore.

you didn't know when it had changed. maybe it was gradual—each time he laced his fingers through yours without asking, or rested his hand on your thigh mid-story, or offered you a grin across the table that was so familiar, so soft, you forgot why you were here in the first place.

but it hit you now, standing beside him in the chill—this unshakable, irreversible knowledge:

you were in love with him.

god, you were in love with hanta sero.

not just in a surface-level, crush-colored way. not just in the i-like-how-he-makes-me-laugh way. it was deeper than that. older. something that had snuck in when you weren't looking and taken root so quietly you hadn't noticed until it was everywhere.

you were in love with the way he held space. with the way he listened without trying to fix you. with the way he let the world land on him lightly, and still carried it in both hands when it mattered.

you were in love with someone who didn't even know you weren't faking anymore.

you exhaled.

"you're quiet," he said, not looking at you. "regretting it already?"

you shook your head. "no. it's just... weird how easy it was. with your family."

he hummed. "they like you."

"they liked that i made you less annoying."

"that is the highest compliment in my house."

you smiled, faint. "they're sweet. loud, but sweet."

"you kept up fine."

"i think i blacked out for half of it."

"you were golden," he said, softer now. "you always are."

you turned toward him slowly.

the lights from the kitchen spilled faintly through the curtains behind you, catching just enough of his face for you to see how relaxed he looked. how present. how close.

you swallowed.

"hanta?"

he looked over at you, brows raised. "yeah?"

there was a beat of silence.

"i don't know how to lie to you," you said.

he blinked once.

then again, slower.

"what?"

"i mean," you continued, hands curling around the edge of the railing. "i've been trying. all day. and i thought i could. i thought i could pull it off—play the part, pretend—but then we got here, and your mom hugged me, and you touched my hand under the table, and i just... i don't know when it stopped being a bit."

his eyes searched your face like he was looking for something he'd already lost.

"hanta," you said again. "i'm in love with you."

his face froze.

the air between you seemed to still. the windchime didn't move. the whole world narrowed into this one pinpoint moment, bright and fragile and terrifying.

he stepped back—just barely.

"you don't have to keep pretending," he said. carefully. cautiously. "no one's watching anymore. you can drop it."

you stared at him.

"i'm not pretending," you said.

another beat. a sharp exhale.

his lips parted slightly. his brows furrowed, not in confusion, but in disbelief. in the kind of fear that came from wanting something too much and being afraid to reach for it.

"you're serious."

"i've never been more serious about anything in my life."

sero let out a long, shaky laugh. it cracked halfway through.

"say it again," he whispered.

"i'm in love with you."

and this time, you reached for him.

your fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie, and you felt the moment he melted—slow and overwhelmed, the way something melts that's been cold for too long.

"you've got to be kidding me," he muttered, leaning into your touch. "i thought—god, i thought i was the only one losing my mind over this."

you smiled, eyes stinging.

"you weren't."

"i've been in love with you since second year," he admitted, voice breaking a little. "you kissed my cheek that one time after i carried your books back from the nurse's office, and i nearly died. like, actual cardiac arrest."

"that was a year ago."

"welcome to my long, slow descent into insanity."

you laughed, quiet and ridiculous.

and then he kissed you.

it wasn't rushed. wasn't showy. it wasn't a fireworks-and-credits-roll kiss.

it was the kind that happened in doorways, in hallways, in quiet rooms where hearts beat too loud. the kind that changed nothing and everything all at once.

he kissed you like he meant it.

you kissed him like you'd been waiting your whole life to.

when you finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against yours.

"you're real?" you whispered, breath catching.

"i better be," he said. "otherwise you've just confessed to a figment of your imagination."

you swallowed a grin.

his thumb traced your cheek.

"i thought this would end in disaster," he said quietly. "that pretending would ruin everything."

"and?"

"and now i don't want it to end at all."

you leaned in, bumping your nose against his.

"then it doesn't have to."

he smiled, and kissed you again.

not like he was pretending.

like he was home.

choso was a full-grown man.

a man who takes cares of his brothers, is employed, and pays his taxes. a man who can share his ideas and his thoughts with professionalism and skill. a man who can admit when he’s wrong, who can let his resentment go for the better.

so imagine his confusion when he acts like nothing but a developing teenager when you were around him.

he truly felt like his body had relapsed back to puberty. he can’t control his sweat around you, he’s switched his deodorant three times before finding something long lasting enough (although he barely spends more than a couple hours around you a day, if even that, and yet he still manages to produce so much sweat—). he can barely make eye contact with you without feeling his face grow hot (shooting down his neck, goodness, he has to fan at his face soon or he'll start sweating and he just showered for you—), a tremble in his hands, a trip in his words. the sentences that so ridiculously tumble out of his mouth are ineligible and humiliating, as if he forgot every single word he’s ever learned.

he talks to himself often.

whether it’s him walking on the way back home from your hangout, or when he’s alone at work, choso talks to himself. he walks alone and speaks your name out loud, a small awkward smile on his lips (even hearing the splendid name from his own throat dusts his cheeks pink.). he rants and analyzes how physically impossible it was for anyone to be as lovely as you. frustrated muttered outbursts of his incompetence around you. questions about if he was normal, if what he was feeling was normal (he concluded no.). these thoughts are too much to be confined within his mind, overflowing so much at the seams, he was afraid he would accidentally speak them aloud to you. so, he verbally lets them out when he’s alone, before his mouth gets the best of him. he never feels further from sanity when he talks to himself. but since it’s about you, well… it makes him feel better pretty quickly.

he writes about you.

talking to himself and thinking about you only helped him so much. he still feels a nervousness in his chest, needing to convey these feelings in some other form. so, he started scribbling little notes about you on napkins at restaurants and cafes, soon throwing them away; but he soon garners a deep hatred for this. anything that reminds him of you, anything at all, whether it be from his own hand or out in the world, has to be cherished. If not, what sort of insult is it to you? so, he buys a notebook. it’s a small one, black and dull, pocket sized so he can write about you whenever he so pleases. the first few entries are sloppy and messy, hurried so he could get the thought out before it slips his mind. but he soon grew a hatred for this as well. even thoughts written about you must be written with such a delicacy and care, even though you’ll never see it.

012324

When you look at me,

I forget that this world is capable of hatred and misery.

How could a being so light and pure,

Exist next to a miserable soul such as I?

the more i write about choso the less i feel i should be walking the streets as a free citizen. put me in a padded room, im not okay

various !

🍮hq! and mha! as kissing tropes i love (various)

mha !

🍮sero hc's bc i'm in love with him (s.h) prt.2 bc i can't get enough of him

🍮omg what ! part 3 of sero hc !?! this time bf edition

🍮my faves and their favorite song off evermore (s.h, i.m, k.b, o.u)

🍮11:10pm (s.h)

🍮how they crush (s.h, i.m, k.b)

🍮sero crushing on his bsf hc's (s.h) +

🍮crushing on bsf ft. Mistletoe (s.h) (prt 2 to ⬆️)

🍮 11:46pm (s.h)

🍮 rating how good of a bf they'd be (s.h, i.m, k.b)

🍮 sero drabbles 1, drabble 2, drabble 3, drabble 4,

🍈 izuku taking care of you while sick (i.m) 

🍈classy (b.k)

🍈 sero brain dump: concert (s.h)

🍈 types of crushees they are (s.h) (i.m) (k.b)

🍈 almost meeting the parents. (s.h) (alt title; keir projecting her inability to commit to anyone as she dreams of sero comforting her)

🍈 when they're down bad (s.h), (i.m), (k.b), (d.k)

🍈sero with a healer / angel s/o (s.h)

🍈how they drive (i.m),(m.a) ,(d.k) ,(k.b)

🍈 ochako as ur gf (o.u) another one some more bc i love her so

🍈 thinking about the bakusquad (b.k), (s.h), (k.d), (k.e),

🍈 when do they get slurpee’s? (multi)

🍈 shouto angst ? idk what to title it (s.t)

🍈 lil drabble abt buying a home w bkg (b.k)

🍈 date gone wrong (s.h)

spider-verse !

To be added …

haikyuu !

🍈matsukawa boyfriend things ! (i.m)

🍈oikawa head canons (o.t)

🍈 Thinking about Hanamaki Takahiro who met the love of his life in high school. (h.t)

🍈 brainrot abt Maki becoming a stand up comedian (h.t)

Sero Hanta I miss your freaky little tape dispenser elbows so much

he should've been at the club im going to throw up

a girl? seriously?//katsuki bakugou smau

fem!reader. no quirk au. bnha college au.

an: if you saw me post this like 2 minutes ago, no you didn’t. ANYWAY!! last chapter tomorrow 😢 (and then epilogue😛)

when you’re starting your freshman year at college, you desperately search for a cheap dorming option, even if it’s some hole in the wall. when you see an ad posted for 4 people looking for a 5th dorm mate, you figure this is the best you’re gonna get. at least you have a place to live, right?

prologue. | previous part. | part 17. (soon!)

part 16.

sounds of sizzling filled the apartment as you sat at the kitchen island watching katsuki work his magic on the stove. you had watched him cook many times before, but now it was different. the warmth that enveloped your heart was so comforting as you kept a close eye on him. he was officially your boyfriend. you still couldn’t believe that any of this had even happened. a grin plastered itself on your face as you stared at the way bakugou’s back muscles moved through his shirt as he stirred the food in the pan. katsuki turned to look at you with a lifted brow when he heard a giggle come from behind him.

“what?” he questioned, a smirk formed on his lips.

“you’re so yummy.” you replied back, your smile still widely apparent. bakugou shook his head with a scoff, turning his head pack to the pan on the stove so you couldn’t see his cheeks ignite with red. it was going to take him a minute to get used to the flirting, but he didn’t mind. he was just glad he could finally say you were his.

“stop.” he laughed out. you giggled lightly at his reaction and stood up from your seat, making your way to him. you stood behind him and gently draped you arms around his middle, pulling yourself close to him as you hugged him from behind. a heavy sigh left your nose and you closed your eyes, listening to the muffled sound of his heart from where your ear rested on his back. this was something he would never be able to get enough of. although bakugou wasn’t a huge fan of physical touch, he could spend the rest of his life having you connected to his hip at all times.

“i’m not going to let you help me cook.” he said, seasoning the frying vegetables.

“oh my god, can i not just hug you?” you replied back with a roll of your eyes.

“just making sure you’re not trying to get something out of me here.” you couldn’t see his face but you could sense the smirk from a mile away.

“wow. i guess if that’s how you see me.” you dramatically said, pulling away from him, leaving his back cold from the lack of contact. he rolled his eyes and set the spatula down, turning his body to grab your arm before you got too far.

“you are so dramatic, damn.” he quickly placed a peck on the top of your forehead and let go of your arm, swiftly moving his hands to grab your waist. before you had a second to resist, katsuki had lifted you up with ease, setting you on the counter next to the stove, and he was right back to cooking.

“whatcha makin’?” you tried to distract yourself from the butterflies that had settled in your stomach.

“food.” he responded sarcastically. even if you two were now dating, he was still proving he would never not be an ass. you rolled your eyes and raised a hand to flick his ear. he flinched and glared at you, his mouth open with annoyance. “i’m sick of you.” he stated with a shake of his head, bringing his attention back to the food.

“nuh uh.” you laughed back, inching your way as close to stove as possible so you could be next to katsuki.

“yuh uh.” he gave you a smile and looked into your eyes. the smug look he had on his face was the most attractive thing and you could have pounced on him then and there. his face was right in front of yours now and he placed a kiss on your lips as you giggled at him.

“can you guys stop being boyfriend and girlfriend for 5 seconds. i’m fucking starving.” hanta said as he rounded the corner, now entering the kitchen. you picked up the oven mit on the counter next to you and threw it at him all while bakugou held up two middle fingers at the black haired boy. “you two are already the absolute worst.” he threw the oven mit back at you, nailing you right in the face.

“you eat when i say you can eat, fuck head.” bakugou responded to sero with a stupid grin. you always had a tendency to forget that these boys had known each other way before you were in the picture. you always loved watching them interact; they acted like brothers and it made your heart happy.

when the food had finally been made, everyone eagerly fixed themselves a plate and you all plopped on the couch together. you and katsuki sat close to each other as kaminari turned on the show you had all been watching together. the fact that your first year at college was almost over astounded you. nearly a year spent in this apartment with these stupid boys went by entirely too fast, but you were glad to have built the friendships with them that made your life so much better.

when you polished off your tortellini, you set the plate on the coffee table in front of you. you brought your knees up to your chest and leaned into katsuki, snuggling your head against his arm and wrapping your hands around his bicep. your eyes were glued to the tv, but bakugou’s were stuck on you as he fought back a grin.

—

the comforter on your bed wrapped around your body like a cocoon as you scrolled on your phone, your eyelids getting heavy with exhaustion. you jumped slightly when a knock sounded on your bedroom door, but you refused to leave your warm blankets.

“what?” you said loud enough for whoever was there to hear. katsuki swung the door open and took one look at you. his laugh brought a grin to your face.

“what are you doing?” he asked, shutting the door behind him.

“i was cold. don’t make fun of me.” you giggled out as he neared the edge of your bed, staring down at you with his hands tucked in his pockets.

“i’m sleeping in here.” he said, lowering himself onto the mattress.

“says who?” you asked with a raised brow. kicking him out wasn’t an option because you wanted him to stay with you anyway.

“says me. scoot over.” he was fully laid out on your bed now, his head resting on the spare pillow. “give me some damn blanket. don’t hog all of it.” bakugou said, unwrapping the comforter you had completely drowned yourself in. the groan that came from your throat made katsuki chuckle to himself.

“come here.” he said quietly. instead of waiting for you to move yourself to him, he was already sliding his arms around you and pulling you on top of him.

“you are so needy.” you giggled out, bringing a hand up to hold the side of his neck. you planted a line of kisses on his jaw and laid your head down in the crook of his neck. you had never felt so comfortable in your life. the way your body perfectly fit with his felt like finally putting the last piece into a puzzle.

“i’m not needy.” he retaliated, his heart picking up speed at how close you were to him. the way his chest moved against you as he breathed was enough to put you to sleep.

“mhm. sure.” you said closing your eyes and pushing your face further into his neck. your legs intertwined with each other’s and he held you impossibly tighter. if you could sleep inside his rib cage you would.

you gently planted one last kiss on his neck and fell asleep on top of him. katsuki gratefully listened to the sound of your breath coming and going. he stared at the ceiling as he mindlessly played with a strand of your hair. he had never imagined that you would ever want to be this close to him, let alone be his girlfriend. dating was something that hardly crossed his mind. katsuki had always told himself there were better things to worry about. however, now, you were the better thing he wanted to worry about; you were the one thing he wanted to happily spend his time on.

bakugou rested his cheek on your forehead and lightly sighed. he closed his eyes as he brought his free hand up to gently caress your face. katsuki would never sleep without you by his side again.

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crush

PRETTY BOY.

a girl? seriously?//katsuki bakugou smau

fem!reader. no quirk au. bnha college au.

an: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SIRI PLAY FRANK OCEAN

when you’re starting your freshman year at college, you desperately search for a cheap dorming option, even if it’s some hole in the wall. when you see an ad posted for 4 people looking for a 5th dorm mate, you figure this is the best you’re gonna get. at least you have a place to live, right?

prologue. | previous part. | part 13. (soon!)

part 12.

the laughter from the boys echoed off the surface of the lake as you and the other girls sat in a circle on the dock. the four of you watched the guys as they splashed around, swimming after each other like kids at a pool party.

“so where is kiri asking you to be his girlfriend?” jirou asked, her head laying in momo’s lap.

“oh i don’t know the specifics, i just know the day.” mina responded as she lightly kicked her feet in the water off the edge of the dock.

“that’s actually so funny to me.” you chimed in, “the fact that you basically planned the day you get a boyfriend.”

“i’m particular, what can i say.” she nudged your arm slightly. “on the topic of boyfriendssss.”

“stop!” your head swung around to look at the group in the water, making sure no one was listening in; specifically the red eyed blonde. “we can talk about this when they aren’t around.”

“god you are so boring.” mina huffed out, splashing the water dramatically like a toddler during a tantrum.

“hey!” a shout from the water interrupted your conversation, catching the attention of your group. “what the hell are you guys doing over there?” katsuki asked.

“girl talk!” mina shouted back at the boys as they swam over, hanging on the edge of the dock to nosily include themselves.

“you guys want to actually get in the water?” sero sassed.

“um, do you want to mind your business?” jirou sassed back, causing you girls to laugh when the boys reacted as though you had just slapped them all in the face.

the sloshing of water behind you caught your attention, but you had no time to react when you turned to see katsuki lifting himself on the dock, striding toward you and picking you up swiftly. he slung you over his shoulder with a laugh.

“hey—what? katsuki what are you doing?” he only continued to laugh as you thrashed around. you were both under the water within a few seconds. you came back up splashing, gasping for air.

“what the fuck kats!?” you wiped your hair from your face, your expression one of disdain.

“oh come on.” he laughed, splashing water at you as the others watched. you couldn’t stay mad at him for longer than three seconds and you joined his laughter. katsuki stayed close to you, his shoulder touching yours as you floated in the water. the rest of the girls decided to join the swimming not long after.

the nine of you swam around for a while, teasing each other and discussing stupid hypothetical topics to pass the time. all the while, bakugou never strayed from your side. while the others were messing around, playing countless childish games, he stayed right next to you, keeping you company.

"you heard any word from that purple haired emo?" he asked suddenly as you both watched sero, kiri, denki, and izuku play a game of monkey in the middle with denki's stolen shoe.

"which one? there's one here with us." he rolled his eyes as you laughed at your own joke. "but no, I haven't. why?"

"I was just wondering. didn't know if maybe he had reached out asking to try again or something." you shook your head in response as he looked at you.

"that ship has sailed. plus I'm pretty sure mina would kill me. god, she hated him." you caught her a few feet away playfully swatting at kirishima as he tried to get at her. you were glad it was him that she decided to spend her time with; they were good for each other.

"yeah I was right there with her." katsuki scoffed.

"mina I understood because she's just mina, but I never got why you didn't like him." you watched as he shrugged his shoulders.

"I just didn't trust the guy. obviously I wasn't wrong." bakugou smirked at you. you groaned as you put your head against his arm. the last thing you wanted was to talk about your last romantic fling; especially with bakugou.

"guys! let's play hide and seek!" kaminari called out once he finally retrieved his shoe.

"how are we supposed to do that, dipshit? should I just stay under the water until I drown?" katsuki replied. you were clung onto his arm now, your cheek smushed against his bicep.

"are you blind or did you just miss all the trees that surround the lake? dur da dur." denki sassily responded.

the water was evacuated and each of you were split up into teams of two, and of course, mina made sure you and bakugou were a pair. sero had mischievously volunteered to be the first seeker and there was no doubt that he had some stupid scheme up his sleeve.

“okay you fuckers better get to hiding!” sero shouted as he covered his eyes to count.

everyone bolted in different directions and bakugou quickly grabbed your hand to drag you away from the scene. you could hear the echoes of muffled hollering as the other groups tried to situate a spot to hide as well. when katsuki finally came across a hiding spot suitable enough, he sat you both down, your chests heaving from all the running. he had found a fallen tree that was perfect to conceal yourselves behind.

the moon hung high in the night sky above you, illuminating katsuki’s bright blonde hair perfectly. as you two fought to catch your breath, your eyes were stuck gazing at the outline of his nose, the way his brows furrowed together, and the way his lips were slightly parted. you yanked your stare away from bakugou, choosing to move your attention to a random branch in front of you. his hand was still interlocked with yours; you had forgotten until he tightly squeezed your hand. you had to fight the blush that threatened to invade your face.

“are you and izuku dating or something?” he asked suddenly as he looked around, scoping out the area.

“what?” his random question baffled you. “we’re just friends, i feel like i’ve explained this before.”

“you just act like you’re obsessed with him.” he responded sarcastically, locking eyes with you.

“no i don’t!” you whisper shouted. “just because i invited him doesn’t mean he’s my boyfriend.” did bakugou not like izuku? considering they’re in the same boxing team, you figured they were friends.

“well do you like him then?” katsuki asked, staring at you blankly.

“no!” this was such a strange conversation. what made him want to bring this up? “where is this coming from?”

“you’re just always talking about him.” he shrugged his shoulders.

“no i’m not!” did it really seem that way? you and izuku were just close because of work, but there was nothing at all romantic about y’all’s relationship. “midoriya tells me i’m always talking about you, but that doesn’t mean i like you.” which was half a lie because you did like him.

“what was that?” bakugou smirked at you, lifting a brow as he watched your expression change when you realized what you said. “you’re always talking about me?”

“don’t let this inflate your ego any more than it already is.” your eyes rolled as he continued to gawk at you.

“oh, i’m going to.” his grin only widened. you nudged his side with your elbow and he squeezed your hand in his.

the game of hide and seek had completely escaped the minds of the two of you as you sat side by side and hand in hand. the wind picked up as the night grew longer and it chilled you to the bone.

“why the fuck didn’t we put our clothes on?” you said with a shiver. no one in the group had thought about the fact that it wasn’t entirely the smartest idea to play hide and seek in the woods in just your swimsuits.

“you cold?” he asked quietly. you nodded your head as you brought your knees to your chest. “here.” katsuki said, letting go of your hand and moving his arm to wrap around your shoulders. you stared at him with wide eyes and your stomach was infested with that fluttery feeling. there was no way he wasn’t doing this on purpose. did he know you liked him, or was he just clueless?

“thanks.” you said quietly as you leaned into him, finding it hard to break eye contact. katsuki’s eyes were an incredibly beautiful shade of red. you’d be lying if you said they weren’t easy to get sucked into.

the air between you was thick, causing your breath to stop short in your throat. katsuki held you close to his body as he held your gaze. if there was anything that was going to confirm his feelings for you, then it would be this moment in time. you shone in the light of the moon, your features outlined in the most memorable way. each time he saw you he was reminded of just how beautiful you actually were. bakugou took in each facet of your face, relishing in the way you stared back at him.

katsuki took a quick glance at your lips, causing your urge to shrivel away grow ten times more.

“found you!” sero yelled loudly behind you. you and bakugou jumped, completely forgetting the reason you were out in the woods to begin with. you loved sero with all your heart, but in this moment, you wanted to knee him in the balls.

“wowza…did i interrupt something?” sero said with a stupidly wide grin.

“shut the fuck up, moron.” bakugou said as he let go of you to stand up. the warmth of his body was now gone and you couldn’t help but frown. he reached a hand out to you to help you stand with him.

“where’s everyone else?” you asked as you stood next to katsuki, wiping the dirt from your legs.

“oh, you guys are the first people i’ve found.” sero responded.

“are you fucking kidding me right now?” bakugou said, obviously upset that he didn’t win the game of hide and seek.

you and bakugou joined the seek for the other pairs, the three of you walking close together. katsuki still wouldn’t let go of your hand. when you told him you were fine he replied with, “it’s fucking dark and you’re going to get lost.” acting as if you were helpless without him; when in reality he just wanted an excuse to touch you for just a little longer. after an irritably long half hour, you eventually found the rest of the group with kaminari and izuku claiming their win after being the last pair in hiding. once all of you reached the dock after an hour of galavanting in the forest, you threw your clothes on and decided a late night froyo run sounded perfect.

the nine of you walked back to the two cars, splitting up after deciding the location. you made it to your car with momo and jirou as the boys stayed back, whispering amongst themselves.

“okay so what the fuck? the hand holding? the sitting cutely by the tree?” sero whispered loudly as he gave bakugou a shove to the shoulder. “dude. DUDE.”

“oh my god you are so loud.” bakugou huffed out through gritted teeth.

“oh are we talking about you and y/n? you like her right?” izuku chimed in quietly, earning a death glare from the irritated blonde.

“who even asked you to be here?” katsuki was obviously frustrated that his friends had cornered him like this.

“uh, y/n did.” midoriya responded plainly, raising his hands in defense when katsuki shot him another look.

“so what’s the verdict?” kirishima questioned, a boyish smile on his face. this was the first time he’d ever been this involved in katsuki’s love life and he savored every second.

bakugou let out a sigh as he crossed his arms over his chest. he stared at the gaggle of annoyingly nosy boys that circled him.

“fuck.” he muttered to himself, “yeah. yeah i do.” he said, slapping his hands to his side.

“i feel like i’m in a rom-com right now.” denki giggled.

“when are you going to ask her out?” eijiro giddily asked.

“can we just go get some fucking fro-yo. please.” bakugou groaned, leaving the group to walk to your car, sero tailing close behind him. katsuki claimed the passenger seat, leaving the other three in the back.

you guys left the lake behind, windows down, the music loudly booming from your radio. everyone in your car was screaming along to Thinkin Bout You by Frank Ocean while katsuki seemed more or less uninterested.

“c’mon grandpa!” you shouted over the music and wind, “turn up! don’t be lame!” you gave his shoulder a push.

“can you please keep both hands on the wheel?” he said with a laugh. you shot him a grin as you giggled back, looking toward the road again. you loved driving with the windows down, but your hair flopping every which way into your eyes made it hard to enjoy it for very long. every three seconds, your hand was pushing away at the strands attacking your face. katsuki watched you closely, noticing your growing frustration. he slowly reached toward your face, grabbing your hair with one hand to hold it so you could see the road. he rested his hand against the back of your neck, your hair wrapped around his fingers. you turned your head to look at him and he was staring only at you, his head leaning comfortably against the headrest.

if you weren’t driving you would have jumped him. you didn’t know how much longer you could continue not telling him how you felt.

“thanks.” you said shyly, looking back at the road while the others in the back were still scream singing. he didn’t reply, instead he kept his eyes trained on you, rubbing circles into the skin of your neck with his thumb. you felt sick, but in a good way; like you could throw up because of excitement.

“you look pretty.” he said quietly enough where you almost missed it over all the noise already circulating in the vehicle. you felt your mouth form a grin without even meaning to. this moment felt like deja vu. it reminded you so heavily of the night you called him pretty for the first time in his car while shinso was still in the picture.

“pretty?” you replied, a smile taking up most of your face.

“yeah. really pretty.” katsuki’s gaze never faltered.

you returned your eyes back to the road, smiling like an idiot while he watched. the rest of the drive you were all screaming whatever song came on next; bakugou too focused on the girl beside him to join along.

an: i had one idea and a fucking dream. never at a single point did i know what i was going to write next. let’s hope it’s cohesive 😁🙏

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