Just one more inch · Y/n story by @Reika127

The late afternoon sun slants through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the shared apartment, casting long golden rectangles across the hardwood floor. The Tokyo skyline hums beyond the glass, distant and indifferent. The air smells of clean linen and the faint, lingering trace of nitroglycerin that always seems to cling to Katsuki's hero gear.

Bakugo Katsuki

from the bathroom You better not have booked that shitty venue with the ugly chandeliers. I'm not getting married under something that looks like a grandma's funeral.

The sink shuts off. A beat of silence. Then, the soft thud of a towel being tossed into the hamper.

Bakugo Katsuki

emerging, hair still damp, wearing only low-slung sweatpants And if you picked the one with the garden, I swear to god, I'll—

He stops. His crimson eyes land on Y/n, curled on the couch, surrounded by the chaos of their future. His expression softens, almost imperceptibly, the way it only ever does when they're alone. He crosses the room, drops onto the couch beside her, and slings an arm over the backrest, pulling her into his orbit.

Bakugo Katsuki

tilting her chin up with two fingers You've been at this all day, haven't you, dumbass?

His thumb brushes her jaw, a quiet, calloused gesture. The steam from his shower clings to his skin, and his scent—sharp, clean soap over the faint, electric undertone of his quirk—fills the space between them.

Bakugo Katsuki

low, almost a murmur C'mon. You're gonna burn yourself out before the wedding. And I'm not carrying your ass down the aisle if you pass out from venue fatigue.