When Satoru’s Little Daughter Is Asked About The Definition Of Love During One Of Those Educational

𝐵𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑔𝑜: 𝐺𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒

ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ ᴮᵃᵏᵘᵍᵒ'ᵈ ᵃᶜᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗ·

Bakugo isn’t the type of boyfriend who chases after you right after a fight. He’s not one to apologize immediately or keep sending messages non-stop. He’s like a contained fire, wrapped up in his own pride, and when a fight breaks out, his first move is to pull away.

So, he locks himself in the gym, as usual. He punches the bag with all his anger, lifts weights like he’s trying to crush the frustration building up inside him. He runs, jumps, trains, trains, and trains until his muscles are screaming. For those first few hours, he manages to shut down the voice in his head that keeps calling your name. But that peace? It doesn’t last. It never does.

By the time it’s around 7:00 p.m. and the sky’s painted with a red hue, guilt hits him. He remembers everything he said, how he said it, and the way you looked when it all ended. “Damn it…” he mutters to himself, clenching his fists. He wonders if he went too far. If he really had to say all that. He realizes it might’ve been a stupid thing to do.

Before he can think it through, he’s already heading out to find you. It wasn’t planned. He’s not overthinking it. He just moves, almost like his feet know the way better than his mind.

And that’s when he stops thinking so much and listens to his heart instead.

When he finally sees you, he doesn’t rush. He walks over with purpose, that usual scowl on his face—the one you’ve learned to read. He’s not mad. He’s just tense. He reaches out and grabs your wrist—not roughly, but firm enough to stop you from pulling away before he can speak.

“Can we talk?” he asks, his voice rougher than usual, but softer than you'd expect. It’s forced, like he’s not used to being gentle, but for you, he’s willing to try.

Then he looks you in the eyes. You’re probably still pissed, but when it comes to you, he’s ready to own up to his mistakes.

Only with you.

Content @ghostlycamil4 2025. Do not copy or modify.

• MASTERLIST

I personnally have a soft spot for Ace/Hoku, why ? Because i'm used to see him being described as kinda a womanizer but he sounded so innocent when he talked about Hoku but the funniest is how easily we understand they're not on the same pages (and Ace should get his mind together !) But like my point is : Hoku endlessly teasing him for the way he took their "promise"

*In another time, post time-skip, somewhere along the Strawhat's journey*

"Vahahaha!"

"Stop laughing," Ace growled, slamming his cup of grog onto the counter. He whirled around on Hoku, ears almost catching fire as the woman beside him continued to laugh, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. He was torn between smacking her off the stool or watching her laugh, chest swelling in pride at the sight of her smile. "Don't you think you've laughed enough?"

"No!" Hoku hollered, clutching her stomach, gasping for breath. Her cheeks were dark red from the alcohol, skin warm, but never warm enough for Ace. Never too hot.

She was drunk.

Hoku didn't get drunk often. Rarely, it seemed, if she could help it. She'd always complained it made her drawings unreliable and her blood wonky, but Ace just figured Pokians took to being drunk a bit differently from the rest. It was only on this particular night because he'd weaseled her into it to make telling her the truth about his misunderstanding that much easier.

Which, admittedly, might have been a mistake on his part.

"I can't—I can't," Hoku wheezed. She was sitting on a bar stool while Ace stood beside her, leaning his back against the counter as he continued to pout. "Oh, oh... my stomach... I'm going to throw up."

"You could've made it clearer," Ace grumbled darkly. Hoku still laughed, unable to help herself. At least now Hoku would forget this whole night happened and Ace could pretend he'd never misunderstood in the first place.

"I never thought—" Hoku chortled. "Never. Repopulate? With me? Hah!"

Hoku almost spilled her drink. Ace moved aside, dodging the splash and refusing to admit he was pouting at Hoku as he crossed his arms over his bare chest.

"It was a reasonable mistake!"

"No, it's crazy!" Hoku laughed. She held her face in her hands, laughing uncontrollably. "Oh, Ace... you... dumbass! Vahahaha!"

I should just put her to bed. Ace ran a hand through his hair, ignoring the little embers on the tips of his ears. And make sure she forgets about this entire thing.

"Alright," Ace said, making appeasing motions with his hands. Hoku blubbered over the rim of her drink, smiling stupidly at him. She's so gone. "I think you've had enough. I don't want your crew gettin' mad at me for bringing you back piss drunk..."

It was a bit nice though, Ace had to admit, taking Hoku's cup and ignoring her drunk whining and the smell of alcohol in the air. Something sweet. Hoku'd brought some special mix with those berries she was so obsessed with. Hoku always seemed wound up in her own way, and drunk she seemed to forget about anything or everything that was bothering her when she was sober.

Happier.

I want to make you happier.

"Still can't believe it," Hoku giggled. Ace rolled his eyes. "Ya were actually gonna have kids? With me?"

Ace growled, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. "Well how else were you gonna—"

"Hmm," Hoku mused, looking as thoughtful as she could while drunk. "Kids with you, huh?"

Ace froze, blinking at her.

Hoku scratched her head, as if trying to imagine it. She blew through her lips, tipping her head to the side with her eyes closed. Ace suddenly felt a bit of chill run down his spine, not unpleasant. Different. Definitely different. His fingertips felt warm. a coiling in his stomach and a little flicker in his chest. Just the thought of Hoku, his shooting star, thinking about the two of them with kids—

He watched the way Hoku's brows furrowed a bit in thought, how her glazed, doey eyes seemed to have found an image she liked and then she turned that drunk, dopey smile his way, cheeks flushed.

"Think we'd be good parents?"

In a split second Ace's own buzzed, overactive imagination saw it too. Boy or girl? Girl. He'd want a daughter for sure. She'd be adorable and rowdy and he'd do anything for her. He'd let her ride on his shoulders, laughing as Hoku called for them from her spot somewhere else, sketchbook discarded to the side. She'd looked just like her mother, Hoku's hair, her eyes and her sneaky little grin—but she'd have his freckles. Something that undeniably said his, him, and Hoku. Them. The two of them. Undeniable proof of the two of them together—here, and—

"Just crazy," Hoku sighed, shaking her head. Ace jolted, reeling himself immediately back to the present and pretending he'd never seen a single thing. "Vahaha..."

"Yeah," Ace said, running a hand through his hair again, unable to get the little image of an adorable little girl with white hair and freckles running to his arms. "Crazy—"

Hoku moved her hand and Ace followed it, he frowned—

"You were gonna put a baby in this?" Hoku pressed a hand to her stomach. "Vahahaha!"

Ace stared.

"Ah," Hoku sighed, leaning back. "That was a good laugh." She hiccupped.

Hoku's cup slipped from Ace's loose fingers, clanking to the floor. She blinked, turning down to look at it. "Hey, ya dropped—woah!"

Hoku pressed a hand to her mouth, making sure she didn't throw up as Ace suddenly hauled her over his shoulder, moving with purpose to the stairs of the inn. "Hey! Where we—hic—goin?"

"To bed," Ace bit out. Hoku let out a shriek of surprise when his opposite shoulder turned to flames, grabbing at the ends of Ace's smoldering hair. "Putting you to bed. That's enough out of you."

I won't be able to handle hearing anything else. Ace bit his lip, flooding his head with thoughts of Dadan. Dadan showering—yup, that did it.

In the morning the only thing he was going to tell Hoku was that in her drunk stupor she suggested he put a baby in her and then he was going to have the last laugh out of that.

- that little girl would sure have a lot of uncles

(and potential half-siblings)

Baby gojo reacts to: megumi!🖤🐺

“just for three hours, can you do it?”

“…yeah.”

megumi stares at the blinking miniature of his sensei quietly, as the baby looks back at him too in silence.

“well then!” gojo claps his hands before turning to you. “let’s go, sweets! we have a willing, trusty babysitter to take care of him!”

you shoot your husband a glare before turning to megumi. “sorry, megumi. we have to go to school and investigate the recent cursed spirits outbreak, and it doesn’t feel right to bring him there.”

“i don’t mind, nee-san,” megumi replies to you almost nonchalantly, throwing a glance at your baby in his hold. “i’ll keep an eye on him.”

that’s what megumi said, but even he doesn’t know what he’ll do with a baby in his apartment. at first, he puts the kid on his bed and he immediately sits up straight and turns to him.

“what?” he questions the baby as if he could answer him. “do you feel cold?”

the munchkin is dressed in a frog onesie with two round eyes on the hoodie, so maybe he doesn’t feel cold, megumi thinks. in the next half an hour, he and the baby are in staring match, as he doesn’t even squeak once.

“you must be bored here,” megumi sighs, starting to feel bad that he can’t entertain him. “maybe i should ask her to accompany me next time…” his thoughts flit to the chirpy girl in his class, whom he knows will have many ideas to humor a baby.

maybe it can also be an excuse to spend time with her too.

suddenly, baby scoots closer to his side and leans to him, closing his eyes— and megumi feels warm inside.

“ah,” a small smile lights his face at the sight of this cute creature depending on him so trustingly. he pulls him closer and pats his back, before wrapping his arms around him to keep him in place.

“okay, let’s sleep together then.”

You and Bakugou walk home in the rain.

The sky’s a watercolour spill of peach, heavy clouds staining the glow and threatening rain, wind. You had watched the sky from the cool, green-dark of your little store, wondering if you needed to pull in the flowers sitting out the front; the last thing you wanted was carnations rolling down the little street, scattering their frilled petals like confetti. Everyone else along your strip was wheeling in what they could, or lowering awnings—taking precautions, bundling up bags of pickled radishes, or dragging in stands with bootleg DVDs.

“Eh, the weather will break,” Akane had said, dismissively. “It’ll sail out to sea and then double back before it does any real damage.”

You had held out your hand as she blustered on—catching the rain dripping from the stripped canopy over your shopfront, stretching your fingers and letting the water run down them.

“Maybe I’ll bring the flowers in, anyway,” you say aloud. Akane scoffs, throwing her hands up in surrender. You smile to yourself, amused, and let her have her disgruntlement.

You rescue the carnations first—already wet with rainwater and huddled together, their frilled edges making you think of vacationing ladies at the seaside: their skirt hems dragging with the ocean spray. The hydrangeas wait til last; riotous in the weather, soaking in what they can, happily. There’s a distant rumble of thunder—you pause on the threshold of your store and watch the sky like it’s less a threat of a storm and more the promise of Katsuki overhead, somewhere, his explosions propelling him forward and breakneck speed.

It’s not. In the gloom of your little cupboard of a shop, your phone glows; a message from your Hero, waiting.

Doing shitty paperwork. Tell me when you’re home.

You thumb the side of your phone, like you could be tracing the back of his hand. Home, he says, so easily. Home—Katsuki’s apartment, where you’d both come to like the comfort of you being there for him, when he finished work.

There’s an icy gust; the wind, testing your doors before sending some leaves scuttering, down the road. You stand amid your plants and your buckets of flowers and think about Katsuki, frowning down at his paperwork in the confides of his brightly-lit office at the agency, as the world outside grew dark. He was always coming to you—meeting you at home. Meeting you at your shop doors.

Outside, something clatters. A shop sign, maybe. A fern brushes the top of your head as you peer out, to the sky again, still it’s wash of orange.

Just closing up shop now, you text Katsuki back. The read notification ticks over quickly, but he doesn’t reply—his normal modus of messaging.

It never bothers you. Instead to be funny, you send him a gif—a glittering rose, something Akane might’ve sent you, unironically, as a good morning message.

Katsuki reads that, too, but doesn’t reply—leaving you silently laughing to yourself in the dark of your secret little shop.

It’s raining in patches, by the time you leave the store; shower bursts, on and off as you make your way through a busy train station, eeling onto the train you need, when it comes.

You are a bright smear of colour, in the window’s reflections; with your coat, with the bundle of flowers you’ve allowed yourself, for Katsuki’s apartment—for home. An older woman across from you smiles, when you meet her eyes; you smile back and then almost immediately look away, rocking with the motion of the carriage and your embarrassment, still unused to the attention holding something as simple and as cheery as a bouquet of flowers could bring.

The rain’s paused, when you make it to your stop; the sky over the intersection still it’s peach spill. You twirl your umbrella above your head, watching the clouds roll, and then glance ahead, across the road—to where Katsuki is standing in civilian gear, golden and unimpressed in the latelight as he waits for you to notice him.

You break out into a grin just as the lights signal for you to cross, your heart skipping with the tune as you make your way to him.

“What happened to the paperwork?” You ask a little breathlessly, when you join him on his side of the road.

Katsuki just frowns, a hand reaching out to curl against your side—pulling you into him, where he presses his face against yours for a moment, stilling your buzzing, your excitement, like he could absorb it all. You press back just as tightly; breathing him in, warm and deep and sweet.

There’s a light touch against your temple, suspiciously kiss-like; and then he’s nipping at your ear, annoyed.

“Ow,” you say, reflexively.

He smacks his forehead against yours in retaliation. “Y’re meant to go home, dipshit,” he says, disapproving, though he just holds you closer when you sag against him, trying to keep your umbrella aloft.

“I am going home,” you mumble into the lapel of his jacket. “I’m going home with you.”

His arm tightens around you; you breathe in with him, listening to the thud of his heart, steady under the sudden spray of rain overhead, on your umbrella.

The crosswalk goes off again—leaving the pair of you standing there in the last of the rain, the light. The two of you in your own world, under the watercolour spill of sky.

he cold

bakugou being a dad who’s completely smitten with his babygirl…. LORDDDDDDD GIMME STRENGTH

This isn’t the first time Iwaizumi’s heard the team talking about you.

“Just seems ta not wanna be here an’ doesn’t even like us…” Miya reflects after practice as Bokuto fervently nods. “Never comes out with us, even ta eat…”

Kageyama grumbles “doesn’t stay late when we’re doing extra practice.”

“Hasn’t shared any social media with us,” Hoshiumi adds.

He thinks about it a lot, what the guys said.

What they’ve been saying.

You’re a different kind of manager than most of them have had and from the outside it would seem like you’re not particularly invested in the job, in the team.

Everything the guys say is true.

You’re not overly enthusiastic, you don’t spend any time with anyone on the team outside of practice, you don’t show up early and don’t stay late, no one’s been able to find you on social media, and no one’s been given your cellphone number. You have a work phone through which they can reach you but it’s not yours.

And then they find out.

“Completely makes sense now…Uncle Hibarida’s the one we hafta thank fer our manager,” Miya complains. “A bit’a nepotism an’ we’re denied a key asset.”

There’s a round of shared sentiments and you’re suddenly even more out-of-the loop than before.

Iwaizumi hates that he’s starting to feel the same way. “I just…I’m trying to understand the hiring decision…” he offers after asking Hibarida about you and why you’re so…apathetic.

The coach measures Iwaizumi with a look but he doesn’t offer an explanation; he just pats Iwaizumi on the shoulder and walks away. Without a satisfying explanation, or any explanation at all, Iwaizumi wonders if you’re going to make it as their manager.

   Suna’s off his game.

He knows it and he’s doing everything he can but it’s not working. No matter how much extra time he puts in on the court or in the weight room he just can’t get out of this slump and he’s internally panicking that he’s going to get benched.

When practice gets out he feels lost. Everyone’s got a place to be and he lingers in the locker room, dragging his feet to go home wondering if he should stay and keep trying.

“Suna?”

He’s surprised that you of all people call him out of the locker room. “Yeah?”

You search his expression for a long moment and deeply inhale, like you’re hyping yourself up to face a big obstacle. “Come on.”

“Huh?” His expression scrunches up. “Where?”

“Conbini.” You’re almost frowning.

“Ookaay…” Suna awkwardly tags along curious and confused as to what’s happening. You don’t try to make any small talk along the way and when you lead him to the candy section you just stop and point to the “chuupets?”

You nod inscrutably. “They’re your favorite, right?”

His narrow eyes flick to you, taken aback. “Yeah…so?”

“So,” you sternly reply, “pick some out. My treat.”

“But…why?” His eyes narrow even more at you. “We’re not even allowed to have treats. Iwaizumi’s gonna flip.”

You cross your arms. “If he has a problem with it, he can take it up with me.” When Suna doesn’t make any move your arms fall back to your sides. “Okay, look…I know we’re not…friends…but I do care. You’ve been having a hard time recently and need a…well…I don’t know,” you admit self-consciously and shift your weight. “I just thought…” You sigh in defeat. “Let’s just forget this…Sorry.”

You step past him to leave-

“Green Apple.”

You freeze.

He tentatively picks up a package, avoiding your gaze.

“When I was little my favorite flavor was green apple…” the plastic crinkles in his hand. “I don’t like it anymore…Hate it, actually…But sometimes I eat it anyway…just to see if I can feel all those good things about being a kid again.”

“What’s your favorite now?” you ask quietly, looking at the assortments with him.

“Pineapple.”

“Then we’ll get both,” you offer without hesitation and take the biggest variety pack, the only one with both flavors and bring it to the counter.

Suna’s still by the candy section when you’re done paying.

“You coming?” you call. Though he gives you a mystified look, he nods and follows.

       Iwaizumi’s on the bus when he sees you and Suna sitting on a bench together. He only has a glimpse as the bus drives by–are those candy wrappers between you?! There’s no doubt candy isn’t allowed on the diet plan but for the first time the two of you are smiling and the next day at practice Suna’s in top form.

He doesn’t bring it up but ever so slightly

something shifts.

    Bokuto’s next.

The owl disappears during practice one day after a hearty round of laughter that wasn’t necessarily directed at him but it was definitely because of him.

“He’s done this since high school,” laments Yaku.

Miya sighs “he’s a sensitive boy.”

From the corner of his eye Iwaizumi sees you slip out of the gym while the others debate sending someone to find him.

“Seriously,” Yaku assures them, “he’ll hide somewhere for a little while and come moping back around.”

“You guys keep practicing. I’ll take a look,” Iwaizumi offers to a round of gratitude. 

He doesn’t have to wander far until he hears your low voice.

“Is that better?”

“Yeah.” Bokuto sounds unnaturally small. Iwaizumi stays out-of-sight, waiting for something else to happen but Bokuto asks “what are you doing?”

“Keeping you company,” you simply reply.

“But…why?”

Iwaizumi imagines–tries to imagine–you shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t like being alone when I’m upset…” You consider something for a long moment. “It’s hard…because usually people want to do something…like they can fix it…When all I really want is to not be alone.”

You’re both quiet for a while before Bokuto softly admits “usually everyone just tells me to cheer up.” You wait quietly as he adds “but it just makes me feel worse…I just want to be sad!” 

“Sometimes people can’t handle seeing someone act in a way that doesn’t fit the person they think they are.”

“Huh?”

Iwaizumi smirks at Bokuto’s confusion but there’s no trace of humor in your response, only patience as you rephrase it. “Everyone sees you as the ball-of-energy Bokuto. And they’re too fragile to understand you get sad, too. You have every right to your feelings Bokuto for however long you need to feel them.”

Iwaizumi’s heart aches when he hears the emotion in Bokuto’s voice. “Thank you.”

    After that it’s Kageyama who’s having trouble with his nails and nail file. Iwaizumi catches a glimpse of you giving him something after practice and the next day Kageyama’s meticulously caring for his nails with a glass-crystal file.

Then Sakusa who states displeasure about the lack of hand sanitation throughout the facility and finds new stations set up a few days later.

Ushijima who stares at his phone for a long time until you sit with him and help write a reply to something.

Finally Kiryu who goes out for a run after practice. Iwaizumi doesn’t think anything of it until you dash out; he follows and gets to the lobby in time to see you speeding off on a bike after Kiryu. On his way home he catches sight of you, the two of you, sitting on the same bench you shared with Suna as you listen intently, patiently to the over-thinker who’s clearly venting. 

It becomes clear that you care for them, just in your own way.

Sure you don’t stay late or arrive early every time one of them does but there are too many monsters to keep up with and if you tried, you’d never leave. So you’re not here extra but when you’re here, you’re here. You’re not the out-going or bubbly manager many of them are used to but you go above-and-beyond for them.

It’s clear you want to be here as much as they do.

So when they have their first press conference of the Olympics and someone from the crowd insults the vertically challenged members of your team?

You have to be contained.

With walls of muscle like Ushijima, Ojiro, and Hyakuzawa, it’s laughably easy for the team to hold you back. It doesn’t stop you from spitting venomous challenges for the coward to show themselves so you can properly insult them back, though,

“Seriously? You think that was bad?” Hoshiumi comments. “Do you even see what people say on twitter?” 

“No, I don’t have one,” you reply. “What do they say?”

In his shock he misses your question. “You don’t have one? What do you have, then? Instagram?”

“No.”

“Tik Tok? Facebook? Discord? Tumblr?” He gags “myspace?”

You laugh “no! I don’t use any social media.” A moment of realization comes over you and you ask “wait…what do to they say about you guys on those sites?”

If there was any doubt left in how you felt about the team, it’s gone after your reaction.

“I was wrong about ya,” Miya admits as the team moves into the dorms for the Olympics and he sees the special attention given to everyone’s needs, put into the specific accommodations for each athlete. “Fer a grumpy little scrub…yer a good manager.”

Iwaizumi sees the small and private but glowing smile as the setter walks away.

In the way you defend them from negativity, intervene when reporters are being unprofessional or fans too intense, and support them from start to finish more than anyone else, you’re their champion.

Their heart and soul.

You accidentally had sex with Bakugou.

You two had fallen asleep in his room after a hang out. You were bestfriends but you had some underlining feelings for him. So when you woke up in the middle of the night to him cuddling you, you almost choked.

You needed to pee really bad so sadly you had to pry yourself out of his arms. When you came back his eyes were cracked open just barely. He mumbled something before opening his arms for you to join him again.

It was out of character, maybe tired Bakugou was just a touchy guy. It couldn’t be more than that.

So you joined him on the bed. You buried your face into his neck. You had to savor this cause most likely this’ll be the last time this happens. Also, you were too tired to freak out. You just wanted to fall asleep in his arms.

You can barely explain what happened after that. He hiked your leg onto him, still with his half open eyes, and thrusted right against your clothed pussy.

The next thing you know, he’s dry humping you. And then he’s fingering you. And finally he’s fucking you.

It felt good, too good.

But the morning after? You felt embarrassed. No way you just fucked him without even a first date. He’s gonna think you’re easy. He might even tell everyone that you are.

Of course, that would never happen but you were panicked. You couldn’t possibly comprehend that the great Dynamight chose you. You weren’t famous. Not a vogue model, a hero, or even wealthy. You had nothing to give him.

He had to be messing with you.

So you slipped out of his hold at 5am sharp and went home.

You fell back to sleep in tears and woke up to several texts and calls. Good thing you had your ringer off.

Bakugou - 6:34am

Where’d you go?

I was gonna make you breakfast dumbass

Bakugou - 6:52

Y/n?

Missed call - 7:00am

Bakugou - 7:30

Is this about last night?

I’ll wait for that call back so we can talk about it.

Missed call - 10:03am

Bakugou - 10:05

Call me and we can talk about it. This ignoring me isn’t gonna make it go away.

Missed call - 11:12

Missed call - 11:26

Missed call - 11-31

Bakugou - 11:40

Fucking call me back, this shit isn’t funny.

You’re so lucky I don’t know where you live yet. I’d be there in 15 minutes if I knew.

You debated calling him back. But your embarrassment and anger stopped you from letting him explain himself. How could he use your feelings against you like that! He probably knew that you liked him and wanted a quick fuck.

You started to cry all over again.

A week passed by with no contact. He sent you the occasional text telling you to talk to him but after the 6th day he seemed to give up. At least you thought that until he showed up at your door.

You opened the door wide without checking who it was since you were expecting a package. Your eyes widened when you noticed the blonde leaning against the doorframe, still in his hero costume. He must’ve just gotten off work, saving civilians and climbing the charts. It was another reminder of how he could never want you.

“You gonna let me in or am I-“

You tried to slam the door in his face but he shoved it back open easily. He let himself in, scanning the place.

“Nice place, ‘don’t see why you hadn’t invited me over.”

Maybe it’s because your small, cosy apartment didn’t compare to his high rise penthouse at the top floor.

You grabbed his arm and tried to pull him out. But he wasn’t having it and didn’t let you move him an inch.

“You need to leave, Bakugou.”

“Wow. Last name basis and I was inside you a week ago.”

“Yeah well that shouldn’t have happened.”

“Okay but it did so let’s fuckin’ talk about it.”

You just wanted him to leave before you bursted out in tears. You shook your head, trying to pull him harder but to no avail. Your lip quivered in frustration as tears welled up in your eyes.

Suddenly, he threw you over his shoulder and set you on the couch.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

You broke down in tears.

You told him everything, every assumption you made and every insecurity. You told him how you liked him but you knew he didn’t like you back. He sat there patiently, not speaking a word until you were done.

He got up with a blank face. You thought he was gonna leave at first but he kneeled down to be eye to eye with you.

“Wanna go on a date?”

It surprised you. It was the last thing he expected you to say.

“I’ll take you on a date and prove to you how much I want you. And for the record, I’ve probably liked you longer than you have me. When we met in that coffee shop I immediately knew you were the one I wanted. ‘S rude of you of you to make assumptions but I’ll let it pass if you go on a date with me.”

You agreed as he wiped off your tears. Who were you to say no?

Twisted my ankle this weekend and it made me think of how Katsuki would take over baby duties at the drop of a hat.

He’d all but force you to sit down, legs propped up with ice on your swollen appendage while he chases your toddler around.

He’d handle daycare pick up and drop off, dinner, play time, bath time, and made sure to reassure your worried baby that you’re fine, and you are awe struck when your toddler pulls out her doctor white coat and demands to take your temperature. You pretend you’re healed when you’re given a fat, slobbering kiss from your baby, laughing when they demand Katsuki to also give you a kiss, because more kisses mean more healing power- duh.

Katsuki never liked not be the first to pull away from a kiss.

Correction, he probably hates it. If you were to read his thoughts, he dispises the thought of not being the first to pull away. And no, as competitive as he was, this wasn't about being the 'first'.

It was probably the little paranoia in him at that feared if his partner was the first one to pull away he was never gonna get the moment back. What if he messed up? Was he too much? Did he hurt them?

The endless doubt would plague his word for days if not weeks, so the safer route for him has always been to be the first one to pull away.

And in the handful people he's kissed in his life so far, he's been successfully being the first to pull away each time. Until this time when you do.

Frozen in his place, katsuki looked at you with worry etched on his face which was only subtly different from his usually scowl. Staring at you blankly while you pant softly to catch your breath. Sure, katsuki had gone a little overboard this time, pushing it a little as he made out with you, ignoring his lungs burning for oxygen in favour of his aching heart which only begging to make the moment last.

When you did pull away, your lungs being no competition for the young pro-hero's lungs, Katsuki thought to himself that was it. He's lost the moment and probably never getting another chance to kiss you, all because of his momentary greed.

However when you broke out a in a little smile, your forehead resting on his each, eyes closed like this was the most content you had been, katsuki breathes again. All his thoughts going mush at the gentleness of your actions.

"Huh, so this is what love is like?" Lingered a single thought