katsuki bakugo had a rough day, and it was like that for almost any day of the week. classmates were talking too much, trying to get close to him, trying to be friendly. and training was the feather on an overburdened camels back.

so here he was, laying on his bed with his head high in the sky. you were beside him, like usual.

he blows out the grey smoke, lazily handing over the blunt to you.

“finish it off f’me.” his dark eyes peered up at you, lidded and attentive.