Katsuki Bakugou

is the shittiest boyfriend you've ever had the dread upon being with.

Is what you would say had he seen you as more than just a fling that never seemed to come to an end. But at least you were right about one thing. He was the shittiest.

Scowling eyes scrunched meanly at the creeping morning daze, the world all too bright for such a damn near crappy morning. Shifting at the excessive weight the sheets that clung to him, Bakugou scoffed. His eyes landing on your bare figure wrapped around him like you had been trying to resist his inevitable disappearance.

Tch.. damn brat. Prying your clenched fingers from the valleys of his abs, he gifted himself the freedom of absence.

Per usual.

Your quote on quote, 'relationship' was more casual in his eyes than anything. For Bakugou, everything from the last groan of your familiar name held no emotional attachment whatsoever.

His late night texts, making idiotic excuses to make sure you were home? Tch.. Nothing more than just something he did on a pure whim.

That's just how you two were. And he strived to keep it that way. Because who the fuck needs love when you can thrive in lust?

He stuck his head through the largest area on his tank top, his movements delayed from the aftereffects of a rough night. Though, once he was done, Bakugou snatched the black encased phone tossed at the foot of your bed before curling his fingers around the knob with a deepened and grumpy scowl on his face at the endless notifications his device harbored.

Damn extras. Always blowin' up my phone.