A Quiet And Reassuring Love Like This

✮ content. fantasy au. reader is known as the "Tundran Thief." slight predator/prey vibes. reader is "captured" by bakugo. bakugo is an esteemed hunter + semi-royalty.

⇢ winter thief au (prev) | (next)

This might be the stupidest thing you've ever done.

His challenge to hunt you sends a chill down your spine, the adrenaline rush fueling your sudden burst of energy, bolting for the trees to the north. He growls watching you run — a devilish smirk tugging on his lips as he gives you a head start. It’s not long until the familiar hefty crunching of snow under his feet echoes through the trees around you, louder than your own footsteps as you’re desperate to escape. He wasn’t kidding, he’s fast.

And then…silence.

It stops you in your tracks, your first mistake. You should’ve known better than to stop running. A large hand grasps your shoulder in the blink of an eye, easily throwing you onto your back into the snow with a softened thud. It knocks the air from your lungs, your eyes wide as he loomed above you. He slams the blade of his sword into the ground right next to your cheek, a mercy and a warning.

“I said you wouldn’t get away, little rabbit.” He finally gets a closer look at you, hating how his stomach churns at the sight of your flushed face. He quickly disguises the feeling with a crooked grin, flashing his canines at you. “Pretty little thing, ain’t ya?"

“Just kill me already,” you quip breathlessly with an eye roll. You're in no room to protest, and yet, your sassy attitude persists.

He snarls at your insistence as he stands back to his full height, removing his sword from the ground and returning it to its sheath. “Nah, need ya alive. Yer comin’ with me.”

Gods dammit.

Before you can fight back, he’s got your hands and feet bound with your body thrown over his shoulder like a hunted animal. Usually you’d find yourself kicking and screaming, refusing to be anyone’s captor, but you didn’t have a choice this time. This man is twice your size and fully armed. What the hells could you have done?

“You gonna turn me in?” You mutter sometime later, grumbling in defeat while bouncing on his shoulder. “Bet you’d get a hell of a reward.”

He pinches your thigh roughly, eliciting a squeak of surprise from your lips. “Ow! The hell?!”

“Shut it, princess,” he growls back. “Not turnin’ you in.”

“Why not?” You dare to ask. “You know—”

“I know who you are,” he interrupts and pinches your thigh again. “Takin’ you home. Don’t make a scene an’ keep yer head down.”

He tosses his fur pelt over your body, hiding you from plain sight. Unless up close, no one would be able to tell who — or what — you are. It's not long until the sound of busy streets and commotion fill your ears. Are you at a guard post? Was there even one nearby?

“Prince Bakugo!” A man greets. “Welcome back. I see the hunt was a success.”

Bakugo? Where have you heard that name before? And then it hits you — Bakugo, as in the family of prestigious hunters, the warrior tribe of the East. Your captor is the gods damn prince of the most dangerous village on the continent.

"Mm," Bakugo grunts back in acknowledgement. "Sure was."

soft spot

pairing: katsuki bakugou x reader (gender neutral) summary: from the start, Bakugou never liked you. So what would that ever change?

notes: fluff, falling in love, bakugou trying to process emotions, he can't believe he likes you, he's trying so hard to deny it

word count: 3.1k

a/n: I wrote this during my four hour flight with 'soft spot' by keshi on replay.

From the moment Bakugou passed you at the UA entrance exams, he hated you. Not that he had a solid reason. A passing glimpse at your eyes and the snippet of your voice was enough to rub him the wrong way. Something about you grated on his nerves like nails on a chalkboard. It was irrational, and he knew it, but that didn’t matter. He felt a strange sense of satisfaction when he saw you were lagging behind him, though he didn't pay much attention. Why would he? You were just some random extra who’d probably wash out before the practical even started.

But when he saw you sitting in 1-A, any sense of relief vanished. You’d made it? Seriously? Bakugou’s disbelief morphed into simmering irritation as he watched you walk in with a confidence that only fueled his annoyance. He was fuming. You were going to be here for the entirety of his education at UA? His jaw clenched at the mere sight of you. Whatever. You were just another obstacle, one he planned to ignore. He only had to focus on becoming the number one hero. No way some nobody was going to distract him from his goal.

Yet life had other ideas. You got close to Mina, which meant you were suddenly hanging around his friends. But it was bad enough that he had to acknowledge your existence at all, let alone exchange the occasional curt greeting. The nail in the coffin was one project. When Aizawa paired the two of you up for a project. It felt like the universe was playing a cruel joke on him. Forced to work with you— a dumbass in his eyes— was the last thing he wanted.

And yet, as you both begrudgingly tackled the project, he realised you weren’t just some random annoyance. You were sharp, competent, and had a knack for getting things done without fuss. That revelation grated on him even more. It was only then, against his will, that he began to learn a bit more about you—bits and pieces that chipped away at his initial disdain, no matter how hard he tried to hold onto it.

Bakugou tried giving you a hard time, tossing insults your way whenever the opportunity arose. But you deflected them naturally, either brushing them off or firing back with witty comebacks that only annoyed him more. Somehow, you always managed to steer the conversation back to neutral ground— back to assignments or studies— like his words didn’t even faze you. Okay so maybe, just maybe, you were pretty decent at handling his crap. But who was he kidding? You were still annoying. Did you think you could figure him out that easily? Not a chance. You were just another obstacle in his way, nothing more.

You’re quite nice aren’t you? He’s seen you around the classroom. Always being nice, offering a smile, and somehow getting along with almost everyone in class. Hell, even some students outside of 1-A seemed to like you. The only exception was Mineta, and honestly, Bakugou couldn’t blame you for that. Nobody could be expected to put up with that creep for long. That grape-head can’t quit being a pervert for one second. But what gives? What was the point of all that friendliness? Not that it mattered to him. Those were your problems, not his. You had to deal with those people and not him. And you better not think for a second that it meant you’d get close to him.

For most of the year, he kept his distance, pretending you were just another face in the crowd. A few begrudging greetings, a handful of exchanged insults—that was the extent of your interactions. You were just some random classmate, nothing he needed to waste his thoughts on. And as the school year dragged to a close, Bakugou found relief in the thought of summer break. At least for a little while, he wouldn’t have to see your face at all. Or anyone for that matter.

After the summer break, everyone returned for their second year, and Bakugou couldn’t help but notice that you had bulked up. You’d clearly been working out— your leaner arms and toned physique were proof of that. It seemed like someone finally decided to stop slacking and hit the gym. Good for you, he thought. But in his mind, you still had a long way to go. You were already behind, and you’d need to push yourself even harder if you wanted to keep up.

It started out by chance. You both happened to hit the gym at the same time, and after a while, simply ignoring each other became impractical. Slowly, you started exchanging advice. Small tips here and there. Eventually, the idea of sparring came up, almost as a challenge neither of you wanted to back down from. Before long, sparring became a regular thing, an unspoken arrangement that had developed between you two.

With you constantly hanging around his friends and the realisation that you weren’t as insufferable as he’d first thought, Bakugou had to admit that the two of you were... alright. It wasn’t a friendship exactly, but it wasn’t hostility either. Maybe you exchanged texts sometimes, usually coordinating meet-ups with others, but eventually, those plans shifted to just the two of you. It was never planned; it just happened. And honestly, you were tolerable.

Somewhere along the line, he let you hang out in his room while he worked on something, your quiet presence oddly comforting in the background. Not that it meant anything, of course. You were just decent company, that’s all. Nothing else.

But you were stupid. How could someone forget to eat? You were smart, sure, but you couldn’t even stick to a basic eating schedule? It was ridiculous. Hopeless. So maybe Bakugou started making extra when he cooked, just in case you hadn’t eaten. It didn’t mean anything. He was just making sure you were functioning like a normal human being. Afterall, you train with him. Begrudgingly, he might admit you’re one of his training partners. He needed you in top shape, not passing out— from all things, not eating— in the middle of a sparring match.

Over time, he’d learned more about you than he ever expected. Your favourite things, your hobbies, your weird habits. Hell, he even knew what you were scared of—and of course, he teased you about it every chance he got. You were used to that by now. But it hadn’t really hit him just how close the two of you had gotten until one night.

He was making dinner, he found himself setting out a second plate without even thinking. He automatically measured out your usual portion: a precise amount of rice with a heap of pickled radish on the side, and you always liked having the— wait. Bakugou paused. Ladle still in hand as he stared down at the plate. When had he started paying this much attention? Has he always paid this much attention to you? When had he gotten so used to accommodating your tastes? That night, he pushed your plate aside with a scowl and grumbled at you to make your own damned plate.

Bakugou would never admit that he liked having you around, but in his own way, he appreciated you. You were sweet in that irritatingly attentive way, always knowing how to handle him and when to leave him alone. You’d become a solid study partner, sharp and focused, and you had this annoying habit of anticipating his needs before he could ask. You’d pass him his towel and water bottle between sets because you knew he’d need both; the sweat never stopped, and he always drank after each break. You’d grab protein snacks for the two of you between workouts, keeping energy levels high without saying a word.

And then there were the little things. You’d go grocery shopping alone and always pick up an extra snack for him. Tossing it into his room unless he gave you the nod to come in. You’d share music you thought he’d like. And usually, you were right. Without trying, you’d quietly woven yourself into his routine, and he’d come to rely on it more than he cared to admit. But he’d never say that out loud— not now, not ever.

Just because the two of you had gotten closer and Bakugou tolerated your presence didn’t mean he stopped insulting you. But by now, you were used to it. If anything, you found it fun to fire back with your own jabs, turning every snarky comment into an opportunity for banter.

When you both went off for the hero exchange, he surprised you by texting more often than he usually did. Not that it was a lot by normal standards, but for Bakugou, it was a significant change. You’d update him on what you were up to, and he’d do the same— short, clipped messages, but they were steady, a constant thread throughout the entire exchange. It might not seem like much to anyone else, but coming from him, it was more than you’d ever expected. You never mentioned it, but you enjoyed those texts. And secretly, though he’d never admit it, he looked forward to yours too.

When third year rolled around, there was a quiet comfort in knowing you’d be alongside him for the final stretch. Upon seeing you on the first day back, Bakugou couldn’t help but ruffle your hair with a playful smirk, teasing you before you even had the chance to greet him properly. It was such a natural, casual gesture that it slipped out. That alone was enough for his friends to catch on.

Bakugou hated the way his friends kept teasing him, constantly poking at how different he acted when you were around. Supposedly you make him different or whatever bullshit they were spewing. Didn’t they have anything better to do than pester him about some nonexistent crush? He scoffed and waved off their comments, rolling his eyes at their baseless claims. There was no truth to any of it. They were just talking out of their asses. The two of you? You were just friends. Nothing more, nothing less.

But lately… have you always been this cute? Bakugou had always found you attractive, sure, but suddenly, it was like you were glowing, and he couldn’t seem to look away. It annoyed him, how his gaze kept drifting toward you. Snapping his attention back to his notes, his pen harshly hits the paper. Angrily scribbling with more force than necessary. He did not like you. No way. Why the hell would he? There wasn’t a chance. What was he even saying? You look normal. Normal, basic looking, cute— he said cute again didn’t he?

It was four in the morning, and sleep was nowhere in sight. He lay there, cursing you under his breath. Why were you stuck in his mind, looping around like a bad song he couldn’t turn off? You were just being an irritating stain on his heart— no, his mind. You weren’t in his heart. That would be ridiculous. Just his thoughts, that was all. And that made it better, right? But as he tossed and turned, frustration bubbling up inside him, he realised he was wrong. It wasn’t any better. A low groan escaped him, and all he wanted to do was yell. But it was four in the morning, and all he could think about was you.

Bakugou didn’t want to fall. Falling in love? He didn’t even believe in that crap. Love was just a distraction, something that could derail his path to becoming the number one hero. He didn’t need whatever this was stirring inside him. But no matter how hard he tried to shove it down, you always came back. Like a stubborn ember refusing to die out. And a small part of him— one he didn’t dare acknowledge— wanted to let you in. To see if you could change his heart. What terrified him was the thought that you actually could. That you’d be the one to make him believe in love.

Yeah, he’s grumpy in the morning. Everyone steers clear of him. When you approached, you’d feel that heavy aura, instinctively knowing to leave him be, letting him brood in his silent fury. No one knew why he was in such a foul mood, and no one dared to ask. Not like he’d ever tell anyone anyway.

He tried to keep his distance from you. Forcing himself to act normal, like you were just another person in his orbit. Trying to treat you like you were everyone else. But his efforts were futile at best. Around you, his guard would drop unconsciously. His shoulders would relax, and he’d lean in just a little closer, drawn to your presence without meaning to be. It was maddening how easily he softened around you, how your very presence seemed to melt his defences away. When he caught himself, he’d snap back, stiffening his posture and throwing out some half-hearted insult, trying to reclaim his usual grouchiness. But it never lasted long. Because no matter how much he tried to fight it, he always ended up sinking back into the comfort of being near you. He couldn’t help it.

His gaze lingers on you, often without him realising it. A stolen glance here, a lingering touch there. Anything to feel that brief, electric contact. Normally, Bakugou wasn’t one for physical closeness; he hated being touched. But with you, it was different. He couldn’t resist the urge to brush his fingertips against yours, the lightest touch of your skin sending a jolt through him. A graze of your shoulder, the faintest brush of your arm—he craved it more than he’d ever admit. He felt like a fool and he hated it.

You want him to go to some new outlet with you? He’d follow without much protest, even if he didn’t see the point. You’d offer him a bite of some food he was sure he hated, and somehow, it tasted different when you fed it to him. Better, even. When you wanted to stay up and watch movies, he begrudgingly kept you company. Even though he’d rather be sleeping to adhere to his strict sleep schedule, his eyes are glued to the screen of your laptop. Occasionally flickering his gaze to you, just to make sure you didn’t doze off first. And if you were on the verge of sleeping, he’d hit you. You were the one who wanted to watch this dumb movie and he’d be damned if you were going to fall asleep.

But finally, he’s changed his mind on you. These past few months, he’d finally convinced himself that he didn’t feel anything for you at all. Whatever had been pulling him toward you was gone. He’s sure of it. He didn’t like you—not even a little bit. In fact.

He hates you.

He hated the way you looked at him—the way your eyes lingered, the way your smile seemed to light up the room, the way your laugh echoed in his ears long after it faded. He hated how you fidgeted with your fingers, how you’d absentmindedly tap the table, or purse your lips in concentration while trying to remember where you left your stuff (which was, as always, on the floor between your bed and the bedside table). He hated the way you’d run your fingers through your hair to fluff it up, how you got lost in the pages of whatever book you were reading, or the way you hummed along to the music you were currently hooked on. And then there was your clumsiness—the way you always bumped into things on your left side, so much so that he instinctively started walking on that side, like he could shield you from your own absentmindedness.

He hated the way you spoke to him, the playful grin on your face when you said something witty, the mocking lilt in your voice whenever you got a good comeback. He hated the concern that crept into your tone when you noticed him pushing too hard, insisting that he rest properly. He hated the way you cared for him with a gentleness he didn’t think he deserved. He hated how you’d rise back up every time he knocked you down during sparring, your relentless spirit never wavering. The twinkle in your eyes when you talked about the future, the way you’d smile at him without a hint of hesitation—it all drove him insane. But most of all, he hated how easily he could see himself in that future with you, that creeping thought of being by your side no matter where you went. And he hated that he didn’t hate it at all.

He hated that he couldn’t keep lying to himself.

Maybe he’d always had a soft spot for you. Even if he never wanted to admit it, he couldn’t deny the truth he’d buried for so long: he’d fallen for you. You had him wrapped around your finger and he couldn’t stop himself. It was what you did to him that he hated the most. How you affected him. How you turned him into a lovesick fool. All because you existed beside him. He needed you because you’re everything he isn’t. He doesn't believe in love but no one makes him feel like you do.

In truth, he hated you from the start because you didn’t feel unfamiliar. When you meet new people, it usually takes time. Getting used to their mannerisms, their presence, the way they filled a room. So why were you so familiar? With you, there was no adjustment period. From that very first glance, your eyes were soft and inviting, your atmosphere light and effortless, as if you’d always been a part of his world. Even your scent, subtle and barely noticeable, felt familiar. Why were you so easy to get used to? You were so easy to get used to, and that terrified him. The moment you passed by him at the entrance exam, he’d felt it— a premonition of love he’d tried desperately to ignore. He knew from the start that falling for you was inevitable.

You knew it too didn’t you? That you’d end up falling for him as well. He never needed to confess because you already knew. You understood him well enough to know he’d never openly admit it. It only took one late night and a shared kiss for the two of you to finally embrace the love you both saw from the very beginning.

恋の予感 koi no yokan: (n.) lit. Premonition of love; the sense one can have upon meeting someone for the first time that the two of you are going to fall in love.

“You were never going to make the first move were you?”

“Shut up and kiss me again.”

It refers to the knowledge that future love is inevitable.

a/n: ugh I loved writing this on the plane. But I am very very tired now. For my wife @chocogoldie

border credits: @/enchanthings & @/adornedwithlight

i am having a rough mental health day so here’s some christmas bakugo fluff

“mina, if you sing that song one more time I swear to god I’m going to—“

“kats!” you hiss, tugging his sleeve.

he harrumphs. “what? it’s annoying me.”

kirishima laughs from the kitchen, pointing at katsuki, who is standing in front of the christmas tree with his arms crossed.

“everything annoys you.”

katsuki rolls his eyes, and you can’t help but let out a small giggle as you watch him. he’s wearing a santa hat (courtesy of ochako), and yet he still has his signature scowl on his face.

his eyes snap to you upon hearing your giggle, and the corners of his lips tip up in a small smile. he reaches a hesitant arm around you, plucking your now empty glass from your hand.

“do you want more?” he asks quietly, eyes soft as he gazes as you.

you nod, smiling softly at him.

he then goes into the kitchen, smacking kirishima on the side of his head as he passes him.

“i don’t know how you did it.” a voice says next to you. you turn, seeing mina leaning over the couch where you’re seated, chin resting on the backing of the couch.

“did what?”

she sighs happily, reaching out to twist one of your curls around her finger.

“katsuki’s never…well, you know how he is. i don’t think he’s ever considered that another person could love him, and then you found him. and i don’t think i can ever thank you enough for showing him that he deserves to be loved.”

“I—he means the world to me.” you say quietly.

mina grins, then lets go of your hair, standing as you turn your eyes to the blonde who was making his way back over to you. he hands you your drink before leaning down to whisper in your ear. “wanna go somewhere a little quieter?”

you nod, heart thudding as you stand and follow him to the dining room where towers of cookie boxes are stacked, a result of a baking contest gone awry a few nights ago (izuku won, of course).

katsuki stands there for a few seconds, eyes shifting around the room nervously.

“i uh. i got you a gift.” he says quietly, avoiding eye contact as he slips a small white box from his back pocket.

you take it from him, eyeing the badly wrapped box with amusement.

“y—you got this for me?” you breathe.

he nods, a hand coming up to scratch his neck, heat flooding to his cheeks as he brings his eyes up to yours. you carefully unwrap the gift, taking the top of the box off and gasping at what lays beneath.

“katsuki, this is beautiful.” you say in awe, gently pushing back the wrapping and taking the rose gold necklace out. there was a small heart on the thin chain, and you gingerly touch it, eyes filling with tears.

“i know i’m not, like, the best at all of this stuff. but i promise i’m trying! i just—well, you deserve so much, and—“

“oh kats,” you whisper, stepping closer to him and cupping his jaw with one hand, necklace dangling in the other. “i love you so much, my sweet boy.”

a big beautiful grin splits his face, his eyes shining as he dips his forehead to rest on your own. “i love you too, my beautiful girl.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ teddy’s notes: some cute things about bakugou and his loser girlfriend reader!! these are very much random and just something that made me feel all warm inside <33

bakugou, who gently nudges you to move onto the sidewalk when cars go by and has to hide his fond smile when you give him a satisfied grin and point out how you’re now taller than him, which he ruins by stepping up to the sidewalk and staring you down easily. your shoulders slump and you grumble curses at him while he smirks and pulls you in with the heavy weight of his arm on top of your head.

bakugou, who acts like he would rather be anywhere rather than shopping with you, but still continues judging your taste and choosing things that fit better. and since you like him so much you tend to listen to his opinions very attentively which turns the tips of his ears red and makes him lose the chain of thoughts building in his head. however, nothing shows in his face, his pleased little smirk being the only indicator of what he’s feeling.

bakugou, who forces you to study with him because you like to procrastinate and do everything right before the deadline and he absolutely despises it. it amazes him how inattentive you are sometimes; staring off into the wall whilst chewing on your pen, humming a song under your breath, sneakily typing away in your phone — he can’t help but yell at you, feeling like he’s dealing with a kid. when your lower lip juts out slightly, trembling and pouty, and you start sniffling, bakugou rolls his eyes and tugs you closer to sit in his lap while he does his homework, mumbling about how much of a crybaby you are and to at least attempt to listen to him. “sorry, ‘tsuki, i’ll do my best” you peck his cheek and stare down at his notebook, and bakugou shakes his head, wondering why he even tries. (bc he loves you).

bakugou, who has no fucking clue what to do when you first kiss. his room is dark and the movie playing in the background is long forgotten because you’ve been staring at him for 10 minutes now and he’s been pretending not to notice your staring for 9 minutes. at some point, you lean in and bashfully peck the corner of his mouth, and when he pulls back with a loud “what the hell was that, loser?” you run away from his room with a quick “nothing! bye!”, nearly falling face first onto his carpet.

bakugou, who doesn’t mind it if you hold onto him when you two are walking. his hands are in his pockets usually, but he does go out of his way to offer you his arm or just tell you to hold onto him however you’d like. linking your pinkie with his, gripping his sleeve or the hem of whatever he is wearing; he especially loves it when you grab his arm with both hands and press yourself closer, rambling on and on about whatever topic is on your precious mind.

bakugou, who actually likes your quirk and admires the way you use it. even if it’s not super compatible with his, bakugou will find a way to make it useful for him and have you in the same team as him because he feels like he can also protect you if something happens. katsuki also secretly drools over your hero costume because it sits very prettily on your figure, and when you catch him staring both of you turn into flustered messes.

๑ ⋆˙⟡๑ ⋆˙⟡ growing up with katsuki bakugo !

for all you could remember, katsuki had been by your side. there wasnt a moment you couldnt recall where katsuki hadnt been there with you - from playdates to him fulfilling the role as your knight in shining armour, katsuki had always been right there with you.

you were all each other knew. nobody even came close to sharing the bond the two of you held for one another, and nobody ever would. you were there during days on the nursery playgroud, to walking home with him after a gruelling day at middle school. despite your lack of aspiration to be a hero, katsuki never once looked down on your own dreams, encouraging you in his own way to aim for what you wanted to do in life. he swore to you to make the world a safe place for you to live, and that he would always be there to protect you from anything.

katsuki was your first friend, your first love. . . your first everything. he was the one which you shared your first kiss, he was the first to hold you so close in his arms, the first to warm your bed. he celebrated alongside you and your family during birthdays, middle school graduation - there was nothing that you did that katsuki wasnt there to cheer you on for.

so, watching the first friend you ever had die on the rain-soaked battlefield ripped your heart into shreds. the image of his blood staining the ground had seared itself into your memory, and your entire body froze. he was gone. your katsuki, a boy with his own hopes and dreams, had slipped away from you forever. he was gone, and he wasnt coming back.

until, watching a hero give his life for your katsuki, was just enough to bring him back. a hero, whom katsuki aspired to be like, recognised the world's need for katsuki bakugo, and gave everything to give katsuki another chance.

and best believe, once that war was over, katsuki had never sprinted towards you like he had done that day. snatching you up into his arms, not caring about his injuries, he held you the closest he had ever done to his chest, and practically begged you.

"please let me marry you."

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.

it’s something he enjoys, something he’s good at, and he rarely lets you lift a finger when it comes to meals.

so when you tell him, “i made something for you,” you expect a scoff, a teasing remark, maybe even a lecture about how he should be the one cooking for you.

what you don’t expect is for him to hesitate.

it’s barely noticeable, but you catch it—the slight pause, the flicker in his expression before his arms cross over his chest.

“you what?”

you huff, nudging the bowl toward him, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “i cooked something for you.”

his red eyes flick down, scanning the dish like he’s assessing its structural integrity.

it’s nothing fancy—just something simple you put together while he was out. but his fingers twitch slightly, like he’s holding himself back from reaching for it immediately.

“…what’s the occasion?”

you blink at him. “nothing. just wanted to.”

his brows furrow slightly, like he doesn’t quite understand the concept of someone cooking for him just because they felt like it.

but after a moment, he exhales through his nose, jaw shifting as he grabs the chopsticks.

“you didn’t have to, y’know.”

you smile, resting your chin on your hand. “I know.”

he doesn’t say anything else before taking a bite.

the first one is quick—just a taste.

then the second comes almost immediately after, slower this time, more thoughtful. his chewing slows just a fraction—contemplative. his brows furrow, but not in a bad way.

he’s thinking.

then, without a word, he goes for a third bite.

you watch him, amusement curling at your lips. “well?”

he chews, swallows, and sets his chopsticks down with a casual motion.

“…it’s good.”

you stare.

then squint.

“just good?”

his ears tint the faintest shade of pink, and he scowls, looking at anything but you. “what, you want a damn trophy?”

you snort, shaking your head. “a simple ‘thanks’ would work.”

his mouth presses into a tight line, and for a second, you think he might just grumble his way out of this. but then, just barely above a mutter—

“thanks.”

your grin widens, warmth blooming in your chest as he goes back to eating, and even though he doesn’t say anything else, you don’t miss the way he finishes every last bite.

it happens again.

not immediately, but enough that it starts to become a habit.

one night, you make an extra portion without thinking, setting it aside without a second thought.

another night, you leave something for him when you know he’s coming home late, the dish waiting on the counter like a quiet reassurance that he isn’t alone.

you don’t always expect a reaction, but you always get one—even if it’s just a muttered “’preciate it” or the way his shoulders shift ever so slightly when he sees what you’ve left for him.

and then, one evening, you catch him sneaking extra bites.

you’re pretending not to watch, seated at the kitchen counter with a drink in hand, your body angled just enough to keep him in your peripheral vision.

katsuki eats like he always does—quick but deliberate, each motion efficient, no wasted movements.

his back is straight, his expression unreadable as he makes his way through the plate of curry you set in front of him.

then, the second you turn your head—

a blur of movement. a quiet clink.

your eyes snap back to him.

katsuki freezes, chopsticks halfway to his mouth, a second helping clearly stolen from the pot sitting on the stove.

his jaw tightens as he chews, his expression carefully neutral, but you don’t miss the way his fingers tighten slightly around his chopsticks.

your brows lift. “did you just steal extra?”

a beat of silence.

then, his red eyes flick up to yours, his chewing slowing slightly as he glares, unimpressed. “what?”

your gaze drops to the now slightly emptier pot.

a slow grin spreads across your face.

“you did.”

he scowls, shoving another bite into his mouth like it’ll somehow erase the evidence. “it’s good. so what?”

you rest your chin on your palm, amusement flickering in your eyes. “you could just ask for more, you know.”

he clicks his tongue, gaze flicking to the side, suddenly finding the tiled floor far more interesting. “dunno what you’re talkin’ about.”

after that, you start paying more attention.

to the things he likes, the things he doesn’t say outright but that you pick up on anyway.

you learn that he prefers meals fresh off the stove, that he eats fast but never wastes a single bite. that he loves spice—but sometimes, just sometimes, it even gets to him.

you catch the way he drinks more water when it does, the slight furrow of his brows when the heat creeps up on him.

“you good?” you ask once, watching as he takes another gulp of water.

he clicks his tongue, setting the glass down with more force than necessary. “’course I’m good.”

you just shake your head, amused.

even when he’s exhausted, dragging himself through the door after a long shift, he still eats whatever you make. no complaints, no hesitations.

just a quiet moment where his shoulders loosen and he sits down without a word.

and no matter how much he huffs and grumbles, no matter how much he acts like it’s nothing—

he never says no to your cooking.

one night, he comes home later than usual.

you’re already half-asleep on the couch, curled under a blanket, when you hear the door open.

heavy boots thud against the floor, the familiar sound of him kicking them off near the entrance. there’s a rustle of fabric as he shrugs off his hero jacket, the soft clink of his gear being set aside.

then—

a pause.

you blink groggily, rubbing your eyes as you push yourself upright. “katsuki?”

he doesn’t answer right away. just stands there, his gaze fixed on the covered dish waiting on the counter.

his shoulders loosen slightly, the exhaustion still clinging to him, but there’s something softer in the way he moves now, like the sight of the meal has pulled some of the weight off his shoulders.

“…you made somethin’?”

you yawn, stretching your arms above your head. “yeah. thought you might be hungry.”

he doesn’t say anything at first. just strides toward you, stopping in front of the couch, and before you can react—warm lips press against the top of your head.

it’s quick, fleeting, but it lingers in the way his breath ruffles your hair right after.

his voice is quieter this time. “thanks.”

your chest feels light, a soft warmth settling beneath your ribs, but before you can process it, he’s already moving again. he grabs the plate, lifts the lid, and takes in the meal.

then, he makes his way back to you, dropping onto the couch beside you.

his thigh presses against yours, his body radiating warmth, and then an arm drapes over your shoulders, pulling you in.

you blink, a little surprised, but you don’t resist, sinking into him as he picks up his spoon.

he eats in steady bites, quiet, comfortable. then, without a word, he scoops up another bite and holds the spoon out to you.

you hesitate for half a second. “you don’t have to—”

“just eat.”

you huff, but open your mouth anyway, letting him feed you.

the flavors settle on your tongue, familiar and warm, but you barely notice because katsuki’s watching you now, eyes flicking over your face like he’s waiting for your reaction.

you chew, swallow, then smile a little. “tastes good.”

his mouth twitches, and he clicks his tongue, looking away. “’course it does. you made it.”

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

thinking abt unofficialbf!katsuki

unofficialbf!katsuki who's abrasive and rude and loud until you're near him. he almost instantly sizzles down

unofficialbf!katsuki who proudly declared you as "his" when you were 4 after you accepted his bouquet of dandelions and its kind of just stuck since then

unofficialbf!katsuki who, after that, began proudly holding your hand and marching around with you. at some point, it just became a habit for him to reach for your hand, continuing even as you got older

unofficialbf!katsuki who still apologizes to you the same way as when you two were kids. he holds your hand and looks away as he mutters "'m sorry.." with rosy cheeks. when he really messes up, he'll bury his nose into your neck and hold you close and whisper a genuine apology into your ear. he'll struggle for the right words and get super flustered, but you know hes trying!!

unofficialbf!katsuki who, for as long as izuku could remember, has been a package deal with you

unofficialbf!katsuki who is practically inseparable from you. like youre not hugging in class or anything but theres just this unnecessary proximity with you guys? you're always just unexplainably close for no reason

unofficialbf!katsuki who carries your bag everywhere. he complains that you "can't even carry your own damn bags!!" but would never let you carry them

unofficialbf!katsuki! who beats his friends up for being stupid when they don’t understand something he’s teaching them, but is so gentle when teaching you. he gets real close and talks in this low rumbly voice that’s just SO HOT

unofficialbf!katsuki whos an asshole to everyone but you

unofficialbf!katsuki who, despite being unnaturally nice to you and finds it hard to be/stay mad at you, gets really genuinely angry when you get reckless when fighting. the only times hes ever really yelled at you for real were when you put yourself in danger

unofficialbf!katsuki who doesnt care if mineta and kaminari ogle the other girls but would blow them up if they so much as laid an eye on you

unofficialbf!katsuki who tries to hide the way his eyes soften whenever you talk

unofficialbf!katsuki who, due to your childhood marriage/relationship/idk-its-complicated, is really comfortable with touching you. he would never let any of those other extras touch him, but he never hesitates to grasp your hand when you're scared, grab your waist to pull you in when he just wants you closer, or even pull you into his lap (in private) to cuddle. he has no problem manhandling you and throwing you over his shoulder or even carrying you bride-style when he's reaaally feeling confident. when you sit next to each other, his hands easily find your thigh almost subconsciously to rub his thumb over it soothingly

unofficialbf!katsuki who you've been having tickle fights with since you were little! he would never DARE hit you like he would those other losers, so he tickles you when he thinks you're being annoying. he knows all of your ticklish spots and still uses it against you when he thinks you're being bratty (or when he just wants to hear you laugh, but he'd die before he admits it)

unofficialbf!katsuki who LOVES cuddling with you! (would never admit it) you get all loud and fussy sometimes (no one is allowed to sass him other than you) so he just pulls you close to his chest and drags his fingertips up and down your back in the way he knows you like. he loves how it gets you all quiet and sleepy and clingy in a matter of minutes. he wonders if you notice the way that after just a couple minutes, your speech starts to slur and you bury your face into his chest or neck. (he does. he notices.)

unofficialbf!katsuki who you've been cuddling since you were kids so it just sort of continued as you two got older? you've known him for forever, so it never felt weird or anything. its just oddly natural? mitsuki has photos of you two cuddling from ages like 4-now.

speaking of mitsuki!! she absolutely ADORES you and unofficialbf!katsuki HATES it! he always mutters about how she likes you more than him whenever you come over, which is like everyday, which she always affirms happily. calls you "my sweet y/n-chan," "sweetheart," "dear," "lovely," and of course "my future daughter-in-law." (katsuki always tells her to "SHUT UP, OLD HAG" with bright red cheeks)

unofficialbf!katsuki whose grumpy moods and grumbles are easily halted by you running your hands through his blond spikes, which always turns him into putty in your hands

unofficialbf!katsuki who always has you in his dorm. he has this thing about nobody, not sero or denki or even kirishima being allowed in his bed when they hangout, but he lets you with no problem. in fact, he's the one who drags you into his bed with him.

unofficialbf!katsuki whose classmates have literally placed bets on when his balls will drop and he'll make you his official girlfriend (he cursed them out and blew stuff up when he found out)

can you tell im a sucker for the just friends/unofficial bf trope...

this request ! fem ! reader , girly ! reader

katsuki with a girly!gf was not something that class 1a expected from the explosive blond. they all thought that he would end up falling for someone similar to his own personality and drive, and not you - his complete opposite.

despite the two of you being an unlikely pair, you complimented the other almost perfectly. your pretty pastel-based outfits and sweet mannerisms contrasted his loud, uncontrollable persona in a way that made it look natural. you were bubbly and pleasant to be around while your guard dog of a boyfriend loomed behind you.

more often than not, a pink accessory would be found somewhere on katsuki, especially if you werent present. whether it was a charm bracelet or a pink hairclip tucking away his unruly mop of hair, there was always some element of you on him, and it had become a game within the class to try and guess what 'mark' you had left on katsuki that day.

katsuki usually hated being ridiculed and made into a joke, but if it brought a smile to your face, he would walk around in a handstand all day just to see you laugh. your airy giggles and bright smiling face made it all worth it to him, and he didnt care that the two of you were nothing alike.

he didnt want someone that was like him, hell, he barely liked himself most of the time. so he found happiness in your difference, and how bright you were in comparison to him. you were his light, the calm to his storm.

[OC X CANON APPRECIATION POST! 🩷✨]

REBLOG IF YOU LOVE AND SUPPORT OC X CANON!!

“𝖨'𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎.”

˗ˏˋ Warnings / Tags ˎˊ˗ ╰┈➤ established relationship, Cussing, definatly ooc, petnames, grammar/spelling mistakes, gender/skin!Neutral, not proof read !!

꒰⋮ Wc ⋮꒱ 717 ~ !!

˗ˏˋ Author's note ˎˊ˗ ╰┈➤ Oh how i love soft bakugo scenarios...

[ 𝖭𝗈𝗐 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀… ] 𝖬𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖱𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋 - ( 𝖬𝖺𝖼𝖣𝖾𝖬𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗈 ) ↻ ◁ || ၊၊||၊|။||||၊| ▷ ↺

Tired? No, that would be an understatement. You were exaughsted. But so was he, and you knew that, he knew that, yet here he was; taking care of you through his own exhaustion. Despite his annoying demeanor at the whole situation, you knew better than to believe that. It had been a real overworked day at training, and as the stubborn man he was; katsuki refused to take a break through it all despite his peers and teachers telling him to. His body ached in soreness from the long day, the short 5-minute walk back to the dorms feeling like hell due to the pain in every movement. It wasn’t often that you saw him this overworked, sure he would exert himself every day to be the ‘best’ but to this extent? Never. It felt almost pathetic to call yourself tired when compared to him. But still, there he was. Making you tea, fetching you water, making sure you didnt have to move a muscle. “Kats? You really don't have to do all this y’know. I should be the one helping you out” His brows furrowed at your statement. Did you really think he’d let you do that? Hell no. “Eh? I’m fine, you’re the one who’s all tired” Sigh. Arguing back was pointless. He was just gonna do what he wanted anyway. The only thing you could do was use his generosity against him. “Can you come here for a moment? I’d  like to lay down with you…” A dramatic scoff and eyeroll was all you got from him, but still; he made his way towards you ‘begrudgingly’ He sat on the edge of the bed, gently moving you without even asking to make more space for him. Settling down on his side, without a word pulling you into his broad chest. “Can’t believe your making me do this…” A lie. He secretly enjoyed the quiet moments of touch between the two of you, arms wrapped around your frame, one hand gently stroking your back in a repeating up and down motion. There wasn’t a thing about it he disliked. But the best part? Being able to lay his head on yours, inhaling the scent of your shampoo that for some reason, always seemed to ease the slight angry nerves in him. a deep exhale. In that beginning few seconds of embrace, he already felt all his tensed muscles and joints relax, it was almost like nothing else in the world existed. Just you two, just that room. The stress and overthinking of upcoming training or projects seemed to melt away. The warm heat of his arms around your making it feel as if your previous fatigue amplyifyed by ten. Every minute feelings longer than ever, every second your eyelids grew heavy until you were unable to keep them open any longer. The cherry on top? The faint sound of his heartbeat. Slow and steady, acting as a sort of white noise to the moment except only you could hear it. And as expected; you were out like a light. But he wasn’t, he felt like a moth compelled towards that light, wanting to feel closer, more loved, more…in love. It wasn’t like him to feel like this, he would’t be caught dead with someone knowing he felt like this. Especially not about you; he was already  teased enough about your relationship despite his best effort to keep that part of his life underwraps. His hand paused on the movement on your back. Instead traveling up to the back collar of his hoodie that you ‘stole’ from him. Fingertips grazing along the cotton fabric, occasionally brushing against the back of your neck. And oh? He could’t help but notice the fact you were also wearing his shirt underneath said hoodie. He should be annoyed at the fact half his wardrobe was in your dorm but he wasnt, infact; he was quite fond of it. “Always taking my stuff then complaining when any of yours goes missing…i always loved that about you” Once again, he wouldn’t be caught dead saying something like that, and honestly; he could’t believe he even said it in the first place, but it just came out so naturally. Oh how he adored you, of course he’d never say it. And yet…you knew.