BAKUGOU KATSUKI met you on one of his patrols in Shizuoka, his intensity unmistakable. At twenty-three, he’d already built his own agency, fame coming as much from his explosive quirk as from his unfiltered, firebrand personality. Admirers swarmed him daily, confessions as relentless as they were exasperating. But none had ever shaken him—until you.

You were running, seeking freedom from a life of restraints. Your quirk, Foresight, granted glimpses of the future but left you partially blind, so you relied on sound and instinct to navigate. Unfamiliar streets led you straight into him, and though Bakugou’s first reaction was pure frustration, he quickly softened. Surprised by his own protective instincts, he offered you a job as an operator at his agency, a home close by. What started as duty grew into something deeper, something unspoken.

Over the months, he noticed everything about you—the way you explored with touch, memorizing his face with gentle fingers, finding comfort in coffee, wine, and spicy foods. He picked out your clothes, ordered croissants because he knew you’d like them. And despite his gruff nature, he felt oddly at ease with you near. You teased him relentlessly, slipping into his bed on restless nights, draping your legs over his lap, pulling him out of his walls.

Eventually, love found its way in. One evening, as he sat with a cup of Assam tea and his usual Chesterfield cigarette, you entered, his little sanctuary disrupted in all the best ways. A faint smirk played on his lips as you nestled close, eyes open more now, hazy but full of depth. His hand found your cheek, his voice rough yet tender.

“You’re such a tease,” he murmured, pulling you into his lap, his breath warm against your skin. “Is this what you saw?” he whispered, a smirk in his voice as he leaned in, lips hovering near yours. “Keep those pretty eyes open… I want to see how gorgeous they look when I make them roll.”