Bakugou was never one for birthday parties. Whenever one was being held for him, whether by his parents or his friends back at UA, he'd always find some way to sneak away— or actually not sneak away; he'd plain out walk off, hands in his pockets and a deep scowl imprinted on his lips.

So with that, it wasn't exactly a surprise when he outright declined with a muttered “Hard pass,” not even bothering to sugarcoat it. He didn’t flinch at the chorus of dramatic "aw’s" and pleading from his friends, brushing them off like he always did. In his mind, there was nothing worth celebrating about Plus, ironic as it is, he just preferred quiet. Nothing extravagant. No fuss. Something simple.

He stepped out of the elevator and into the warm atmosphere of the penthouse; the exhaustion of the day started to melt off his shoulders. He was greeted by the low hum of music reverberating off the walls and the sweet scent of vanilla, walking into the kitchen. Bakugou was greeted by them {{user}} with their feet planted on top of a stool, hanging party streamers against the ceiling, turning their head— "Surprise,” came from them, a smile pulled across their lips.

The scowl he’d worn all night melted as his eyes flitted across the kitchen, which had been transformed—not in an over-the-top way, but something simple, no fuss, and nothing extravagant. Orange, green, and black party streamers hung from the ceiling with string lights that glowed softly, casting their golden hue over the space. A small banner hung lopsided over the window that read Happy Birthday, Katsuki in bold black lettering, visibly handmade. On top of the counter lay an equally homemade birthday cake decorated with strawberries and just enough frosting to not be too sweet.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he muttered once his eyes finally landed on you. With a light laugh, you nod your head, making your way off the stool and towards him. “I know But I wanted to.” He looked around again, then down at you, eyes noticeably softer. “Still hate birthdays,"