It wasnt ENTIRELY Katsukis fault he loved to admire you, you were just so, perfect .

It had been atleast 30 minutes of Katsukis eyes just laying on you, admiring, watching. You both had been sitting in the living room watching a silly rom-com. Though he had been on his phone most of the time, these genres weren't quite his thing.

"What're you doing?" You asked, you could feel his eyes burning on you like a flame.

"I don't know what you're talkin bout." He moved his stare away from you to the television, setting his phone down. "Jus watch the movie ya hear?"

"Mhm, okay." You scoot closer and move the shared blanket a bit more towards you. Your head gently falls down to his shoulder. He uses his arm to wrap it around your body and his hand to rub your side.

"Tired are we?" He glanced towards you, mesmerized once again. The way your hair felt against his skin, your beautiful eyes, the curve of your nose, everything about you was just worth looking at. You look up at him slightly.

"Mm yea.. sleepy" He moved your head so you were laying against his neck now. Your eyes flutter shut, opening again, then fully closing.

Katsuki noticed your subtle snores, then running his fingers through your hair. This was the best time of night for him, just seeing you sleep peacefully was enough to make his eyes shut after a while too.

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.

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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.

imagine how heavy bakugou’s gauntlets are to you.

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.

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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.

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ts pmo ong 🥀 | i. midoriya

midoriya is a hero, a strategist , a prodigy— and a little brother who steals your leftovers and pisses you off.

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