second helpings

synopsis: he owns the kitchen—until you quietly claim a corner of it, and he is enjoying it more than he lets on.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: been gone a while. had ran out of ideas but here we go

you don’t cook often.

not because you can’t, but because he always beats you to it.

katsuki treats his kitchen like a battlefield—controlled, efficient, and his.

he moves like he’s been doing it his whole life, sleeves pushed up, jaw set in focus, the faint smell of spices clinging to his shirt even after he’s done.

Katsuki can be a total dick and weirdly cuddly at the same time

He’s matured—kind of—now that he’s an adult, but the second he gets sleepy, it’s like all bets are off. He turns into the clingiest, brattiest man alive, and unfortunately for you, bedtime is his time.

You’re lying on the couch when you hear the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps heading your way, and before you can even look up—

Plop.

“Babe—babe, I can’t breathe,” you gasp as Katsuki drops his full weight on top of you and wraps his arms around you like a damn anaconda.

“Shut up,” he mutters, voice low and sleep-heavy. His crimson eyes blink up at you lazily. “You’re warm. Quit squirming. You’re bein’ a shitty pillow.”

You wiggle under him, trying to shove at his shoulders. “Maybe because you’re crushing my lungs, jackass.”

He grunts, clearly offended, and in retaliation—because of course there has to be retaliation—he shuffles up even higher, dragging himself until his chest is basically smothering your face.

“Suffocate, then,” he says flatly. “If you’re gonna be mean, just die.”

You burst out laughing beneath him. “Katsuki, get your man tiddies outta my face!”

That earns you a fake, scandalized gasp as he props himself up on one elbow, red eyes wide with mock offense. “Don’t body shame me. I’m jacked.”

“You’re dense,” you snort.

After a beat of silence, he sighs and slides back down until his head rests comfortably on your chest. He shifts, settling in like he’s perfectly content to stay there until morning.

Then, in the most entitled voice imaginable: “Tickle my back.”

You blink. “What do you say?”

“…Now,” he mutters, like the word “please” is a personal enemy.

You roll your eyes but lift his shirt anyway, your fingers finding the familiar ridges of his scarred back. You start to gently trace along the muscle, and he lets out a quiet, satisfied sound, melting further into you like a big, muscular cat.

“Brat,” you whisper.

“Love you. You little shit goblin,” he mumbles into your chest, already half-asleep.

“Yeah yeah it’s mutual,” you mumble sweetly.

You weren’t entirely sure what you had done to deserve this.

Maybe you had done something awful in your past life, and it’s finally come to bite you back in the ass.

Sure, you were a UA student. Sure, you had signed up for the hero course, fully aware that it would involve combat training. But this? Holding onto one of Bakugou’s gauntlets—the same gauntlets that had nearly blown Midoriya through a building during the first battle exercise?

You could already see your funeral.

Your relatives all coming together under one roof to mourn you.

Your fingers curled stiffly around the massive piece of equipment, your right arm straining slightly under its sheer weight. You had always known they were heavy—Bakugou’s combat style revolved around explosive power, and he wasn’t the type to wield anything flimsy—but this?

This felt like holding a compact boulder.

A boulder filled with nitroglycerin-laced sweat.

That part was arguably worse.

It’s like lifting a weight that never really lightens over time.

Your mind raced with the implications.

His gauntlets stored his sweat to maximize explosive output. Which meant the one you were holding was loaded. Which meant if you even thought about holding it wrong, you’d be gone. Reduced to nothing but a crisp outline on the ground.

Holding an explosive hazard had never been part of your bucket list.

You could not channel your inner Meredith Grey and take one for the team to hold a bomb.

“I—” you started, your voice thin and weak. “I don’t think I should be holding this.”

Bakugou, standing in front of you with his arms crossed, narrowed his eyes. “And why the hell not?”

Because it was a bomb, for starters.

WE'RE BOTH SLEEPING ON THE COUCH

synopsis: Izuku's been having a tough day at work, what would you do to help him? (0.49k)

it's been a tough day at Izuku's work as the #1 hero of Japan, just as each day was. with a slight difference that it almost costs your relationship.

iIt was as if every bad thought he might have had for the past years just became truth in one day.

so to say he was far beyond exhausted was an understatement. he kindly let you know he'd be coming home later than usual (said usual normally being 12a.m.), so you could sleep without worrying.

how could you not worry about him if his voice over phone sounded so rough, raspy and tired with everything he might be living in those offices right now?

this made you remember every time Midoriya got his way out of reunions or late nights to be with you for at least some hours when you called him and expressed your fatigue.

you would not leave him at his own now. not ever.

so you quickly glanced at the clock as you said your goodbyes and ended the call. 9:48 p.m.

yeah you could do something about it.

you arrived at his agency half an hour later, with a bigger than usual bag and a blanket perfectly folded under your free arm which helped you open the gigantic glass doors which welcomed any citizen that might be in trouble along the best heroes of the country.

this entrance always gave you chills as you recalled when Izuku spent days and days deciding how to decorate his agency in a way it felt comfortable with everyone, yet it got some of his unique traits like some walls were green-coloured.

you had to take the elevator once the secretary recognized you as his boss' partner.

finally, opening the last door was a relief for you, but a surprise for your freckled-fiancé. his face changing from confusion to happiness to confusion again since he told you not to worry about him.

"wha-why?" he asked, his finger pointing at the things you were carrying, his other hand still with yesterday's and today's patrol reports he had to review.

"let me tell you a little story about a boy who used to listen to a certain person whining about their day when they were younger, i really admire that boy 'cause he did everything he could no matter what the time or weather was, he'd go with them and accompany them by himself". you said smiling all the way to the wood table his grand officine had, starting to pull out some plastic cutlery and tuppers with fresh food, then, extending the blanket at the couch infront of it all.

Izuku had left all his work by now to stare at your gentle gestures, the care that you held while putting perfectly everything in place for a little time off for yourselves. he had never felt fuller than now, finding comfort in your acts, he let himself drown in this love of yours.

ts pmo ong 🥀 | i. midoriya

literally 😭💚

“do you think we’re soulmates?”

“i don’t believe in that shit.” katsuki’s hand tangles in your messy hair sprawled against the pillow he fought you over and ultimately gave to you with a small roll of his eyes.

you huff against his chest, frowning at his words. “you don’t think we were meant to be?”

“hell no.” he grins almost a little mockingly

“why not..?” you mutter, thankful your face is out of his sight because your disappointed expression is really quite laughable.

it’s silent for a long moment, and in the dark room, you assume he fell asleep. you sigh, cautiously readjusting your position to be more comfortable as you shut your eyes, ready to sleep.

that is until his hand drops from your hair onto your arm, rubbing small circles. “i don’t think i’m meant to be with anyone.” he whispers, staring up at his ceiling, still covered in glow in the dark stars from when he was a kid. “i think i just got lucky.”

you keep your eyes closed, half asleep as you respond immediately, “well, i don’t believe in luck. everything happens for a reason, suki.”

“that’s your prerogative, i guess.” he hums, his motions slowing down against your arm, resting there lazily.

“mm,” you wrap your arms around his torso, your cheek smushing against his chest.

another long moment passes, and katsuki’s still staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.

“you asleep?” he murmurs, careful not to wake you if you are.

“no, baby.”

he nods to himself, leaning down to plant a kiss on your head. “okay. i love you. thank you.” he whispers before resting back on his bed and shutting his eyes.

“thank you for what?” you reply, smiling softly at his affection.

he shrugs lightly before sleep takes over him, his arms engulfed around you without another word.

MARK 'The Firstfruit' - Righteous

Bakugo doesn’t notice it at first. Not until one morning, when he walks into class and sees you sitting at your desk, head resting on your arms. You look tired. More than usual. Dark circles under your eyes, the slight puffiness, like you had been crying.

Something twists in his chest. He likes it.

He doesn’t know why, but the sight of you like this, vulnerable, affected, satisfies something deep inside him. It means you still care. That even if you’ve been ignoring him, even if you’ve been acting like you’re fine, you aren’t.

And that means… you haven’t moved on.

The thought settles in his mind, dark and selfish. He should feel guilty. Should feel bad that you’re clearly hurting.

But instead, he feels something close to relief.

Because it means you still think about him. That even after everything, he is still the one lingering in your mind. Not anyone else.

Him.

And for now, that’s enough.

But then—

"Are you okay?"

Midoriya’s voice breaks through his thoughts.

And just like that, the relief turns to rage.

Bakugo watches, eyes narrowing, as Midoriya crouches beside your desk. His brows are furrowed in concern, his voice soft, too soft. And you? You look up at him, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, just didn’t sleep well."

Liar.

Midoriya doesn’t believe it either. He pulls something out of his bag, his notebook. "Here, I copied the notes from yesterday. You missed a lot."

You blink, surprised. Then, a genuine smile blooms across your face.

And Bakugo hates that.

Hates the way Midoriya makes you smile. Hates the way he’s looking at you, like you’re precious. Hates that you’re letting him.

It doesn’t stop there.

At lunch, you sit with Midoriya and the others instead of the usual squad. Bakugo doesn’t care. He doesn’t. Except he can hear you laughing. Can see the way Midoriya nudges your tray closer when you barely touch your food. Can see how you lean into him when he whispers something to you.

And worst of all, he sees the way Midoriya looks at you.

It’s the same way you used to look at him.

The rumors start soon after.

"Did you hear? Midoriya might like her" "I mean, have you seen them lately? They’re always together." "Honestly… kinda cute, don’t you think?"

The words slip through the classroom like a slow-moving poison.

Bakugo isn’t even trying to listen, but the whispers reach him anyway, each one pressing into his skull like a dull, persistent ache.

His fingers twitch. Then curl. Then clench into fists so tight, his nails bite into his palms.

Why does it bother him?

Why does his jaw tighten every time he sees you together?

Why does it feel like a punch to the gut when you walk into class and don’t even look at him?

Why does it piss him off so much when he catches Midoriya blushing because of you?

—

The breaking point comes on a normal day.

Bakugo’s already irritated, he doesn’t even know why anymore. Everything just pisses him off. The way Kirishima laughs. The way Denki’s chewing too loud. The way you are standing so damn close to Midoriya near the lockers.

Then, Midoriya reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

It’s a small gesture. Barely anything. But it makes something in Bakugo snap.

Before he even realizes it, he’s grabbing your wrist, yanking you away.

"We need to talk."

You stumble but quickly regain your footing, yanking your hand out of his grip. "What the hell is your problem?"

"What the hell is yours?" Bakugo snaps back. His eyes are burning. "You and Deku. Why the hell are you always with him?"

You scoff, crossing your arms. "I don’t see how that’s any of your business."

"You—" He grits his teeth. "You don’t even wait for me after training anymore. You don’t—"

And that’s when you laugh.

It’s bitter. Cold.

"Bakugo, are you serious?" Your voice is steady, but your eyes, there’s something sharp in them. "You knew I liked you, didn’t you?"

He freezes.

You tilt your head, studying him. "You knew. And you let me believe I had a chance."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut.

"Did you ever care?" you whisper.

Bakugo doesn’t answer.

Can’t.

Because the truth is sitting in his throat like a stone, too heavy to swallow.

You watch him, waiting. Just hoping a little that maybe, just maybe, he’ll say something that makes this all worth it.

But he doesn’t.

He just stands there, fists clenched, teeth grit, jaw locked too tight and, nothing.

And that’s when you know.

You exhale, something in your shoulders loosening. Not relief. More like… exhaustion. Like the last bit of hope you had has finally withered away.

"That’s what I thought."

You turn to leave, but for a second, just a second, you hesitate. Like you’re waiting. Like you’re giving him one last chance.

But Bakugo stays silent.

So you exhale, something in your shoulders loosening. Not relief. Just exhaustion. Then, you walk away.

Bakugo doesn’t stop you.

Doesn’t reach out. Doesn’t say a damn thing.

Just stands there, watching as you disappear down the hall, watching as you walk out of his reach.

And this time, you don’t look back.

This time, you won’t come back. Part 1

It was always Bakugo.

The one who answered your late-night texts, even when he complained about it. The one who scolded you for staying up too late but never told you to stop talking to him. The one who threatened to block you, yet never actually did.

He tutored you when you struggled, insulting your intelligence but never abandoning you. Dragged you along whenever the squad hung out, letting you sit close, steal his food, take up his space. Never pushing you away. Never correcting you when you got too comfortable.

When you got sick, he stayed by your side. Pressed his hand to your forehead, frowning when you burned up. Called you an idiot for not taking care of yourself, then made sure you ate, made sure you rested. Made sure you felt cared for.

So, of course, you thought he liked you. Of course, you thought you had a chance.

And he knew.

He saw it in the way you looked at him. He heard it in the way you talked about him to the others. And he never stopped you.

Because it was easy. Because it was fun. Because he never had to give you anything real.

You started giving more. You waited for him after training. You brought him water ‘cause you knew he’d be tired. You texted first, always. And he always responded. Always took whatever you gave.

One time, you asked him, “Do you think you’ll ever get a girlfriend?”

And he had laughed. Laughed.

"Tch. What for?"

And it was stupid. So damn stupid. But you believed it meant something. Believed it meant you were enough.

Then, one day, he started skipping hangouts. Started ignoring late-night texts. Started pulling away, just slightly. Just enough to make you wonder, to make you chase.

And then, he walked in with her. His arm draped around her shoulders. Introducing her as his girlfriend.

The squad barely looked at you. They couldn’t, because they already knew. They had seen him with her before. Had watched it happen in real-time. Had kept their mouths shut because… what were they supposed to say?

And just like that, everything made sense.

The way he had been busy. The way he had slowly started pulling away. The way he had let you believe you had a chance.

Your hands felt ice-cold. Your heart pounded so hard, it hurt.

But you smiled. Looked his girlfriend in the eye and greeted her like you weren’t breaking inside. Like the past few months of your life hadn’t been a lie.

Your voice was steady when you made an excuse to leave.

And Bakugo?

He didn’t even notice.

Maybe from now on, you wouldn’t act the same around him anymore. Maybe from now on… he wouldn’t even notice.

That night, your phone buzzed.

Bakugo: Oi. Why’d you leave so fast?

You stared at the message.

Read it once. Twice. Three times.

And for the first time since meeting him, you didn’t reply.

The next morning, you weren’t waiting for him after training. You weren’t carrying an extra water. You didn’t even look at him when he walked into class.

And that’s when he noticed.

That’s when he frowned, eyes narrowing at you across the room.

And that’s when, for the first time, Bakugo knew what it felt like to be ignored.

Part 2

BAKUGO K. | Quiet moments. |

Warning! - none

Fluff, Cuss words?( Only one or two.) That's it.

---

The usual loud and boisterous group gathered at the café, their favorite hangout spot after a long week of training. Bakugo sat at the table with Kirishima, Mina, and the rest of the crew. They were laughing, shouting over each other’s stories, and generally causing a scene that could probably be heard from the next block over.

Bakugo k. hc's losing his girlfriend .

Warning- none

angst, that's mainly it. + Bring tissues .

1. He Becomes Quiet & Withdrawn – The loud, brash, explosive Bakugo everyone knew is gone. He doesn’t yell anymore, doesn’t argue, doesn’t snap at people the way he used to. He just… exists.

✦••······················••✦•······················•✦••······················••✦

Bored Katsuki, who had nothing to do but beg for attention. It was that, or pouting in the corner while he tried to solve a Rubik’s cube. It was a weekend, and he’d already finished his homework, workouts, training, chores- what the hell was he supposed to do now? And instead of giving him the attention he wanted, you were ‘lucky enough’ to be busy.

Bored Katsuki, who found random things to do around the dorms, only to be bored again after five minutes or so as he glanced your way and saw you smiling and laughing with your friends. Ugh.

Bored Katsuki, who eventually dragged you away when he saw you were trying to go off somewhere else. He just said ‘where are we going’ while you silently questioned why he’d want to go clothes shopping with you. Meanwhile, ‘anything but sitting around’ was practically on repeat in his head, at least until he got to the store with you, and you hadn’t gotten the opportunity to grab your wallet as he dragged you away.

Bored Katsuki, who sat with his arms crossed and an empty expression outside the door as you tried out clothes, giving a hum or a thumbs up to just about every outfit. He was grouchy about paying though.

Bored Katsuki, who’d take you all over town now that you weren’t practically ignoring him, buying you a coffee and lunch at your favorite spot, carrying your bags and shooting glares at anyone on the street who dared let out even a chuckle at the sight. ‘Anything but sitting around’

✦••······················••✦•······················•✦••······················••✦

Cigarettes during sex

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader (smut)

MDNI (18+)

description:

Okay, so every time I hear Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex, all I can think about is this one fic (that I totally can’t remember the author of, but it’s one of my faves) where Bakugou and the reader share their first kiss, and the song is playing in the background. It was too perfect. So I took the band’s name, put a twist on it and ran like hell with it to create this little piece of chaos. Enjoy the ride folks!!!

——————————————————————————

The house was quiet. It always was at this hour.

You’d grown used to it—the empty bed, the distant hum of the city beyond your window, the way the sheets always felt colder on his side. It wasn’t that you didn’t love your life with him. You did. But loving a pro-hero meant nights like these—curling up alone while he was out fighting villains, keeping the world safe at the cost of his own peace.

Your nightly routine had become muscle memory. Face washed, skin moisturized, teeth brushed. The only sound in the house was the gentle padding of your feet against the hardwood floor as you moved from the bathroom to the bedroom.

You pulled back the covers and slipped into bed, letting the familiar warmth wrap around you. The scent of clean linen and faint traces of his cologne still clung to the pillows, though it had faded over time.

BEING ON BAKUGOUS PR TEAM

bakugou katsuki x gender neutral reader

AFO reincarnated

Okay hear me out. I think it's so fucking funny that you and Bakugou, despite having fought in two wars and literally beat the villains who international top heroes couldn’t do, can’t do something so mundane.

Your sitting with your legs crossed, laptop in your lap, on your bed as he lays down on his back by your feet staring at the ceiling out of frustration.

“How the FUCK do you write a resume”

You side eye him.

“Bitch as if I would know, I've never applied for a job??”

And he would get so pissy and roll over so he's squashing your feet pettily.

“How are you 17 and never had a job??”

“How are YOU 17 and never had a job?”

“Look who’s talking”

Just bickering for like a good hour.

Eventually you both settle and just stare at the blank word document like its AFO reincarnated. You were BASICALLY already hired why did you have to do this? ‘Hero Code’ Bla Bla Bla

“I actually can’t believe we have to do this.”

“I feel like we should just become billionaires for yanno I Dunno maybe uh beating AFO??” he nods

You can’t help but snicker.

“Is your biggest achievement killing a grandpa? what like a” you say squinting

“150-year-old? Give or take?”

Even though it was a blow at him, choosing to ignore it, Bakugou snickered.

“Bro was too old to be doing all that”

Silence falls over the room as you both stare at the stupid word document.

Clearing your throat you write your name.

“Do you think that's enough? Like we’re basically celebrities I feel like just our name should be enough” You ask turning your head to look at your boyfriend.

Your met by his unamused face.

“What??? It's a genuine question”

“What if there was somebody else with the same name?” He reaches over to aggressively type on your computer.

You both just stare at it.

“I think that's enough, right?”

“Yup”

So, you send it to a bunch of agencies.

“Wow that was easy”

“Yeah, why do people act like it's so hard” You nod along.

And some poor intern at Best Jeanists agency who's new to the country is like ????

DO NOT COPY OR POST ELSEWHERE. REBLOGS AND LIKES APPRECIATED

A/N: Maybe I'll do one with taxes. Its js so funny how stupid they are

“you're overthinking this, idiot.” bakugo says with a sigh, knocking his enclosed hand on the top of your head.

the protest dies in your throat when he cradles your face with both of his warm palms, the natural mix scent of sweat, gunpowder, and burnt caramel invading your nose.

“don't sell yourself short. you're my girlfriend for a reason.”

he gives you a wild grin that could pass off as totally menacing, but you knew what it really is — a look that meant he genuinely, confidently, believed you could surpass the challenge you're in.

you find yourself convinced that you could do anything now (as long as he's there to remind you that you can).