Mina insisted on throwing a Halloween party every year — and this time, the entire Bakugo Agency had been invited. Which meant you were invited. And that meant Bakugo couldn’t find an excuse to skip.

You stood in his apartment doorway, arms crossed, staring down the stubborn blond.

“Put. It. On.”

Bakugo scowled at the tiny costume piece you held — a pair of black cat ears.

“I’m not wearin’ that extra crap.”

“You promised minimal effort,” you reminded sweetly. “This is minimal.”

He grumbled, “This is humiliating,” but snatched the ears anyway, shoving them into his pocket for later. He’d wear them — when he absolutely had to.

You were dressed up far more convincingly — Mina’s suggestion — something cute, something that made Bakugo’s eyes linger just a second too long.

He locked the door behind you both, muttering, “This better be worth it.”

Mina’s penthouse had been decorated to the extreme. Floating pumpkins, strobe lights, a life-size inflatable ghost that Kaminari kept punching(?). Everyone was already half-drunk, laughing, dancing, showing off costumes.

Mina spotted you immediately.

“You made it!!! And—” she gasped dramatically. “Bakugo came voluntarily?!”

“Shut up, Pinky.”

You pressed fuzzy cat ears into his hand. “Put ’em on, Dynamight.”

He glared at you. You smiled encouragingly.

With a growl, he slapped them onto his head.

The room went silent… for two seconds.

Then Kaminari bursted out laughing so hard he choked on his drink. Kirishima took pictures. Sero asked if Halloween miracles were real. Deku’s face lit up with stars.

Bakugo looked like he wanted to explode the entire building.

You reached out and fixed the ears properly. “There. Perfect.”

His scowl twitched… but softened.

You dragged him to the makeshift bar.

“One drink,” he warned.

“Three,” you countered.

He huffed — but when you clinked your glass to his, he obeyed. Then another. And another.

Soon he wasn’t hovering in a corner anymore. He stood next to you — hip bumping yours when someone walked too close. Very subtle, very territorial.

When Mina switched the music to something upbeat, you grabbed his wrist.

“Come on.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No–”

You yanked him into the crowd.

He looked painfully out of his comfort zone for all of sixty seconds…

Then your hands brushed his — and suddenly he loosened up. He let himself move. Followed your rhythm. Laughed quietly under his breath when you spun to face him again.

You blinked. “Katsuki Bakugo is having fun. Alert the media.”

He rolled his eyes, cheeks slightly flushed. “You’re annoying.”

“But you like me,” you teased.

His gaze dropped to your parted lips for a heartbeat too long. “…Yeah. I do.”

Your heart stuttered.

Later, you both stepped onto the balcony, city lights stretching forever below.

Bakugo leaned against the railing, arms folded, ears still perched atop his head — because you hadn’t let him take them off.

He glanced at you. Less guarded. Softer.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“For what?”

“For makin’ me… y’know…” His voice dipped. “…not hate this.”

Your smile was warm — sincere. “You don’t have to be Dynamight tonight. Just… Katsuki.”

He swallowed hard.

“And you,” he said lowly, watching the breeze lift your hair, “You look ridiculous… but good ridiculous.”

Before you could reply, he reached out — knuckles brushing yours. Testing. Asking.

You let your fingers slide between his.

Bakugo let out a breath he’d been holding for years.

Lights from the party flickered behind you. Laughter carried through the air. Mina was probably taking bets on you two finally snapping and kissing.

But Bakugo didn’t care about them. He only cared about the warmth of your hand in his.

“Next year,” he said gruffly, squeezing your hand, “I’m pickin’ our costumes. And it’s gonna be badass.”

You grinned.

“So it’s a date?”

His smirk was pure dynamite.

“Tch. It’s a damn date.”