“oh What’s This?” You Lifted Katsuki‘s Bangs, Your Hand On His Forehead. “lost A Fuckin’

Bakugo x y/n

Do you like this ship?

Bakugo, but his sex drive sky rocketed when you both got together and he doesn’t realize it.

“Here. Drink.”

“Mm.” Was all you were able to mumble out from your face being smooshed into the pillow.

Your body was already growing in soreness and your little blonde firecracker could tell, he rolls his eyes playfully at your starfish figure, littered in pre developed hickies and your decorative blanket covering only what’s between your legs

He takes a sip of the cold water bottle he took from your mini fridge to sit beside you back on the bed, “Y’ still with us or what. I wasn’t even that rough this time.”

“I know, but you have to count this morning too when you had me damn near do the splits on the wall.”

“You said you wanted to try that move next time I ate your pussy?!”

“Yeah well.” You groan rolling over, his hand touches your side while guiding you to sit up and take his water bottle, “Didn’t realize I’d be in that position for 4 minutes.”

“Yeah…you usually cum within like 2 and a half when I eat—“

You cover his dirty mouth and sip the drink, it felt like your body was already getting cooled down from the inside you gulped it for a few more seconds, “Shut up.”

It was a comfortable silence, you threw your head back on the headboard to focus your thoughts again. You knew Bakugo had stamina like a mad man but the way how he’s able to get so viscously pussy drunk and the moment he cums he’s able to just get up and walk around like it’s nobody’s business concerns you.

He just had you face down a few minutes ago, crying out and hollering his name and now he’s just staring at you with a soft look of love

….and possibly lust because his eyes wandered back down to your breast and back to your neck. You couldn’t see him do it, but you definitely could feel it.

He leans in to suckle your throat, peppering quiet kisses to pull you closer. You eventually felt his warm hand slide between the wet mess between your thighs, gliding against your clit to make you shriek and clench your legs as a reflex.

“Hey!” You giggle at his ministrations, but firmly grasp his hand, “Again?”

“Only if you want to. Figured you wasn’t sleep right after so….”

It was really a surprise to you Bakugo was more than willing to have sex back to back and so much with you once you both started doing it, it’s almost all you both do when you both have free time together if you both aren’t training or studying. You’re not complaining at all, but it definitely was something you giggle thinking about.

“What?”

Your thoughts resurfaced and he quirked his eyebrow up in confusion almost breaking into a laugh without you, but still curious, “What? Spit it out.”

“I don’t know…I just never pegged you for a guy that liked to have sex this much.”

Almost immediately his cheeks burned a tinge of red, eyes widening he sit back and crosses his arms in a pout, slightly embarrassed at the realization, “Just because I never fucked anybody, but you doesn’t mean I’m a fucking prude or something.”

“Of course you’re not. I just…assumed after we had sex the first time you’d only wanna do it like…once every two weeks or something.”

The look on his face was pure confusion and offense.

“Every t—- you think I’m a fucking prude???!!”

“I don’t!”

“You do, —-TWICE EVERY MONTH ARE YOU INSANE?!”

His tone was annoyed and offended you couldn’t help but to laugh even more, but he seriously was confused as to why’d you think that. I mean have you seen yourself ? He can’t get enough??!!

“Well excuse me for wanting you. God forbid a man loves his girl.”

Hearing his voice gravel and wear down you stop your laughter to look at him, he tries looking the opposite way, but you knew from how he side eye’d you he was just being dramatic.

Using the bit of strength you had left you climb on top of him. For a moment you admire his scars and flushed body, the way his chest practically turns into a deep cleavage when he crosses his arms, his sharp jawline, the veins.

Hell, you was happy as fuck he loved to fuck you. Look at him.

“That’s not what I meant. Growing up you always were so focused on being a hero, that seeing you doing anything but is….fun to see. And im happy I’m the one to bring that fun side out of you.”

Still looking away you cup his chubby cheeks, thumb rubbing against them and you kiss his forehead, he looks up at you, “If you think I’m only with you for the sex you’re wrong, dumbass.”

“I know. Sex is just a plus. You remind me that everyday we are together.

Though he was still a little pissy about your twice a month comment he pulled you closer, chest to chest, “yeah? I feel the same way, and the whole reason why I started having consistent sex with you is to catch up.”

“Catch up?”

“Yeah….we dated for 2 years and never done it…gatta make up for it.”

“Baby we been having sex for 3 weeks straight, 5 days a week.”

“So.”

“We started having sex almost 4 months ago.”

“SO?! Jeez if you don’t like fucking then tell me.”

“Oh no…pfft I love when we do this. You make pretty faces when I ride you.”

“Fuck you!”

“Nah…but can I fuck you?”

You didn’t let him respond back, you just kissed him again, before adjusting your body to grind against his already growing erection again.

“Damn nympho.” Bakugo wanted to retort again, but it was broken up into a strained groan when you started stroking his dick.

“Takes one to know one.”

KATSUKI’S LONG ASS HERO NAME PLEASE SFGKHFSDGH

Competitive bakugo over a nonchalant y/n😏😏😏😏

competitive katsuki trying to win over nonchalant reader

everyone knew bakugo was competitive, always trying his best and fighting the hardest, no matter who he was against or what situation he was in. he always gave it his all. however, he thought he could do nearly everything on his own, he was incredibly independent, even hating it when people tried to help him with something, not wanting others to see him as weak.

but he did what he had done since middle school; put other people down to make himself feel better. unfortunately, you and midoriya were victims of it, but the two of you had very different reactions.

midoriya was always nervous to stand up for himself until a few months ago, when he became more confident in his abilities, which you applauded him for. bakugo, on the other hand, also made fun of you for god knows what. it was never for a specific reason, just picking on you because he didn’t know how to deal with his feelings for you.

but he was always frustrated with how you’d react. normally, after he would laugh and point a finger at you, you would just shrug and walk over to your friend, talking to them with an emotionless tone. he’d follow you, yell at you, just for you to do it all over again. he hated how you didn’t react in any sort of way.

so when the two of you sparred, and he won a match, he would yell and brag about it, calling you a sore loser and smirking in your face. you responded, looking at a nearby wall for a second, “good job, i guess.”

he frowned, “you guess? what the hell do you mean ‘i guess?’ you lost fair and square, y/n!”

you hummed and shrugged, causing him to march up to you with a scowl. he asked, “why do you always act so damn calm? cry or smile or feel emotions for once! you’re acting like icy hot!”

“i do feel emotions, bakugo, i just don’t show them that well. you should learn from me and be calmer, it especially helps in fights.” you almost smirked at the end, teasing him.

he grumbled, “teach me then.”

you raised your eyebrow and hesitantly asked, “really?” you didn’t believe him, assuming it was a trick.

“yes, dumbass. and call me katsuki or whatever, i don’t care.”

“seems like you do care if you’re correcting me.” you retorted, tilting your head and looking up at him.

the tips of his ears pinkened, and his face felt warmer than usual. he grumbled, “shut the hell up,” and used a small explosion near your feet, causing the ground to rumble underneath you.

of course, katsuki didn’t realize his reactions were very readable, and how dark his cheeks became once you teased him.

hope you liked this, it was fun to write!

k.

"say you want love, and i know what that means"

jus some katsuki headcanons (college, uni kats)

★katsuki is not very fond of PDA, but that does not mean that it will hold back in public. If in public he thinks he needs your affection (or simply wants to be close to you) he will approach you and hug you from behind, with his hands around you so that you don't think of moving away. he would also put his hands on your waist or hips to keep you close, just like a hand on your thigh or his arm around your shoulders when you are sitting next to each other. ♥ 

★︎ katsuki loves physical contact, i have no doubt. it is difficult for him to express himself with words, and although he makes an effort to bring you details (such as flowers, letters or gifts) he feels that it is easier to show you his love by keeping you close (when clearly katsuki is a person who pushes others away, unconsciously or consciously), hugging you, holding your waist or with his hand on your thigh. when you let yourself be hugged and pampered by him, or when you hug him from behind, he feels very loved and appreciated, because he thinks that his attitude can scare you, and by doing this you show that you like to stay close to him. ♥ 

★ ︎ i repeat, katsuki is fascinated by physical contact, whenever u are together (that is, all day, every day) u must, no, cross that out, -u have- to be touching each other. once, u two were coming back from the college, it was very sunny and it was too hot to be with his arm on your shoulder or him hugging you, but it doesn't matter, hes always touching you. He grabbed a strand of your hair, he's curling it on his fingers, while you're talking, he's got a finger wrapped in the strap of your backpack just so you doesn't get so far away. ♥ 

★︎ katsuki usually scolds you because according to him you drink very little water, so (as a strategy to get you to drink more) he makes you eat his extremely spicy potatoes. he smiles when he sees you drinking three glasses of water in a row in less than 30 minutes. ♥︎ 

★︎He LOVES spending time with you, is the form he mostly shows his love for you, he will look for any piece of time he could spend with you, whether it is take a nap together after class in his dorm, exercises with you, study with you, listen to music with you, whatever it is he jus wanna be with you. ♥︎

Happy

little baby

will bakugou choose seoul, korea or your wedding anniversary?

Bakugou had turned the damn house upside down three times.

“Where the hell is it?” He hissed under his breath, storming through the hallway closet for the third time in two days. He’d torn apart the shoe rack, the document folders, and even flipped through the cookbooks in the kitchen, just in case he’d used it as a bookmark. No dice. The damn passport was still missing.

His hair was sticking up more than usual—half from stress, half from the static of the hoodie he’d thrown on that morning in frustration. They were supposed to leave for Korea in three days. Three. It was the biggest pro-hero conference he’d ever been invited to—panel talks, interviews, awards. Best Jeanist, Lemillion, and even Halfie had their confirmations sent in already.

And what did he have?

An expired copy of his license (he got a new one; the expired one’s just in his drawer), a half-crushed protein bar, and a very pouty, very pregnant wife in the living room.

You had your feet up on the couch, ankles slightly swollen beneath the oversized hoodie you’d stolen from his wardrobe. You were scrolling on your phone with one hand, the other resting on your baby bump, lazily tracing circles. When Bakugou stomped past, you looked up with the slow blink of a cat.

“Still lost?” you asked, not bothering to hide your amusement. Even laughed under your breath.

The audacity, he thinks, though it wasn’t frustration. He could never be mad at you.

Because he knows you’ll get mad at him, too.

Bakugou didn’t answer. He grunted instead, pulling out another drawer in the cabinet near the TV.

“Maybe it grew legs and walked off,” you teased. “Or maybe your big fat ego swallowed it.”

He shot you a look. “Not helping.”

You hummed. “Not trying to.”

Your pout had gotten more dramatic since hitting six months. Bakugou noticed it more these days, how you’d stare down your food like it personally offended you, or how you’d sigh theatrically every time the topic of even him leaving the house came up. At first, you’d been supportive—even joked that you’d video call him during the conference and heckle him from the screen. But once you found out the biggest day of the event landed on your wedding anniversary, the whole game changed.

Suddenly he feels like he’s on house arrest.

“Maybe it’s a sign,” you murmured, taking a sip of the juice he made you this morning. “Maybe you’re meant to stay home this time.”

Bakugou scoffed. As if.

“Ain’t no damn sign. It’s just misplacin’ shit.”

“You don’t have to go,” you said again. “You could stay. Cuddle me. Eat cake. Listen to me cry about clouds.”

“You said I could go if I find my passport,” he pouts, brows furrowed, and his lips jutted slightly.

“I did, and don’t be mad,” you replied. “I want you to go. Really. You’ve worked so hard.”

“Then why do you look like you wanna punch me in the throat?”

You blinked at him. “Because it’s our anniversary and I’m hormonal. Sue me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So I hope you don’t find it.”

That was the end of that conversation.

-

The night before their anniversary came sooner than expected.

Bakugou had made a reservation at one of the nicest rooftop restaurants in the city. Private booth, soft fairy lights, cityscape twinkling behind them. The host even laid a small bouquet of lavender on the table when he told them it was for a special occasion. He hadn’t told you where you were going, only grunted, “Wear that dress you like—that comfy one. You know the one.”

He hadn’t mentioned anything new about the passport ordeal. You, who figured he’d either given up or accepted fate, were mostly content to enjoy the evening.

You looked like a dream, so his focus was entirely on you. Someone who he somehow managed to have (maybe his bond with his guardian angels came in clutch and even contacted Cupid himself to arrange an arrow for you two).

You waddled into the restaurant, cheeks a little fuller, eyes glowing. He still looked at you like he couldn’t believe he got so lucky. He thinks it makes you shy, how intense his gaze got, even after everything—the morning sickness, the mood swings, the late-night hospital runs due to paranoia.

“You okay?” he asked, placing a hand on your lower back as you walked in.

“Mm,” you hummed, leaning into his touch. You could barely hide your smile at this point. “You’re staring.”

He didn’t even deny it. “I am? So what? Can’t a man just appreciate his wife?”

Dinner went well, for the most part.

You had one hand on your belly, the other wrapped around his fingers on the table. You were halfway through your chocolate mousse when Bakugou reached into his jacket pocket and slid something across the table.

“No,” you said slowly, setting your spoon down. “You didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did.”

He didn’t look smug at all, more like... hopeful.

Your brows furrowed. You reached for the passport, flipping it open.

There it was. His damn passport. Found. Intact. Stamped. His most recent picture was taken only a few months ago.

Yoh stared at it. Then at you. Then back at it again.

“…You found it?”

“Yup.”

“Where was it?”

He cleared his throat, gaze shifting to the side.

“…Behind the dresser in the guest room. Stuffed in that red envelope labeled ‘Important Shit,’ which you labeled in your handwriting, by the way.”

You paused. Your cheeks puffed again as your lips turned downward in the softest pout he’d ever seen. You looked down at your half-eaten dessert, spoon idle.

“You’re really gonna go?”

“I want to,” he admitted. “But I don’t wanna leave you pissed off and lonely, either.”

You didn’t say anything at first. Just poked at your mousse with your spoon. Your lashes were low, and he could tell you were struggling. Not angry, just…sad.

Finally, you said, “It’s just one. It’s just one anniversary. We’ll have dozens more, right?”

“We will. We’ll have centuries more.”

“…And you’ll video call me. Every day.”

“Morning and night.”

“And text me when you land. And when you eat. And when you leave the venue. And—”

Bakugou reached across the table and tugged gently at your hand. His hands are rough against yours, but they’re filled with sincerity and utmost love that a man could give to his wife.

“Hey.”

You looked up.

His voice softened.

“Seriously, d’ya think I’d leave you without a plan?”

You blinked.

“I’m leavin’ you flowers and your cake. I told Kirishima to drop off that spa basket thing you said you wanted last month. And your mom’s stayin’ over the night of. I made sure. I even stocked the fridge.”

Your mouth parted slightly, tilting your head to the side. “You…did all that?”

“Yeah.” He looked almost bashful now, scratching the back of his neck. “Didn’t want you to think I forgot. Even if I ain’t here physically. I’m still here.”

Your eyes shimmered just a bit. A good sign, Bakugou notes.

Then you smiled—soft and tired and affectionate.

“God, you’re gonna make me cry.”

“Tch. Don’t cry. I’ll look like an asshole.”

You laughed then, nose crinkling. “You are an asshole. But a sweet one.”

“Yeah, you love me.”

“I do.”

You two didn’t talk about the passport again that night. Not after that.

Instead, you finished dessert. Slowly. Your hand stayed in his the whole time.

When you walked out of the restaurant, he kept his arm around your shoulders, guiding you carefully down the steps like you were made of glass. You leaned into him, soft and warm, your belly pressing into his side.

And when they got home, you told him, “Let’s open the anniversary cake early.”

He didn’t say no. Not when you looked that happy. It doesn’t matter that he’s already full from the chocolate mousse you two had earlier.

When night finally settled, and Bakugou’s wiping the excess frosting off the corners of your lips with a napkin, he hears you say, “Come home soon, okay?”

He nodded, then softly kissed the crown of your head.

“Always.”

Always come home to you.

-

The morning of Bakugou’s flight started earlier than usual.

He had been up before the alarm even went off, brushing his teeth with the kind of intensity that only came from years of military-grade discipline… or nerves (also because he wants all bad germs on his mouth to die). Not that he’d ever admit to the latter. He stood in front of the mirror, towel slung low on his hips, steam curling from the hot shower as he stared at his reflection.

This was it. The day he was supposed to fly out to Korea.

Except—he wasn’t going.

Not really.

He’d made his decision last night, somewhere between the weight of your hug and the feel of your heartbeat against his body when you fell asleep on his chest. The moment you started snoring softly, your nose slightly buried in his shirt, he realized there was no way in hell he was getting on that plane.

Not this time.

But you didn’t need to know that just yet.

Because if there was one thing Bakugou knew about his wife, it was that you’d throw a fit if he skipped a life-changing professional opportunity just to spend your anniversary folding baby laundry and rubbing your swollen ankles. Plus, he knew you’d never allow him to stay. And if you knew he was lying about leaving, you’d huff and puff until he actually made him go.

So, he planned ahead. Like a goddamn mastermind.

By the time you woke up—slightly groggy with pillow lines on your cheek—he had already “packed.” His suitcase was zipped shut and positioned neatly by the door. His travel duffle bag sat upright next to it. His travel documents were tucked inside an envelope labeled “Do Not Open Unless Emergency.” (Totally blank inside.)

You blinked at him sleepily, rubbing your eyes as you waddled into the living room in his oversized T-shirt. One of the many shirts he was sure was missing from his closet.

“You already packed?” you murmured, voice small and pouty.

He turned from the kitchen, coffee mug in hand. Acting too nonchalant to not give anything away.

“Yeah,” he said. “Didn’t wanna rush.”

You crossed your arms over your bump. “It’s only a three-hour flight, Katsuki. Not an expedition to the Arctic.”

“Still gotta prep,” he said, biting back a grin.

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously, but the smell of something sweet distracted you. Bingo.

He stepped aside, revealing a neatly arranged dessert box sitting on the counter. Inside: four of your favorites—strawberry shortcake with extra whipped cream, a slice of creamy Basque burnt cheesecake, a generous portion of tiramisu, and your current obsession: mango sticky rice.

“You bought me desserts?” you awed.

“I bought you a stack,” he corrected. “Don’t think I don’t know you get all sad and start craving sugar when I leave.”

You scoffed. “I do not.”

“You do,” he said, crossing his arms smugly. “You pouted so hard last time I left, I came back to find the fridge empty and you passed out with a half-eaten ice cream tub on the couch.”

“That was one time!”

“And I’m not takin’ chances.”

He bent forward, pressed a kiss to your cheek, then to your rounded belly. “Eat well. Don’t lift anything heavy. Text me when you’re sleepy. I’ll land by lunch. Kirishima’s already on the way, but it’ll take a while because of traffic since the bridge is getting repaired.”

“You’re acting suspicious,” you said, frowning as you clung to his shirt. “You never say goodbye this… nicely.”

“That’s rude,” he muttered. “I’m always nice.”

“No, you’re normally grumpy and say something like, ‘Don’t burn the house down while I’m gone.’”

He smirked. You weren’t wrong entirely.

“Well, maybe I don’t wanna come back to find out you’ve cried over an empty dessert box.”

Your lip wobbled, and he kissed you again—softly this time, with an extra squeeze to your waist.

“I’ll be back before you know it. It’s just for two nights.”

-

He left around nine. Or at least, pretended to.

Instead of heading to the airport, he drove straight to his agency, parked in the underground garage, and holed up in his office. There was a bottle of juice in the mini fridge, emergency snacks in the bottom drawer, and an absurd number of congratulatory emails flooding his inbox that he ignored.

The hours ticked by slowly.

He checked his phone a dozen times. No calls. No texts. Just one blurry photo from you of the dessert box with the caption: You’re lucky I’m in a sugar coma right now. Or I’d be mad you left without triple kissing me goodbye.

He snorted.

Around lunchtime, he got restless. Then irritated.

Then, at exactly 1:00 P.M., he got in the car and drove home.

No warning.

No heads-up.

He half-expected you to be lounging in the living room, watching drama reruns and fanning yourself while complaining about heartburn. But when he pulled up the driveway and unlocked the front door—

The house was suspiciously quiet.

His brows pulled together.

“[Name]?” he called out, stepping in.

Nothing.

He frowned and shut the door behind him, stepping out of his boots. He heard a thud from the back hallway. Then a low grunt. A shuffle.

His eyes narrowed.

Then he heard you muttering.

“Come on, come on, I’m not that heavy—”

He rounded the corner—and stopped cold.

There you were.

Standing in the hallway. Sweaty. Red-faced. Holding a large box half your size with both hands, your bump barely giving you enough room to balance it. Your lip was caught between your teeth as you struggled to carry what was definitely one of the boxes he had explicitly labeled: Do Not Touch.

“…What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You screamed.

You literally screamed—jumping nearly out of your skin, eyes wide like you saw a ghost.

Or a burglar.

Or both, at this point.

“—Katsuki! I thought you were in Korea—what the hell—”

“Put the box down.”

“You can’t just walk in like that, I thought—I—”

“Put it down, [Name].”

You dropped it with a loud thunk, wobbling backward and grabbing your shoulders.

“Oh my god, I thought you were a home invader! I was ready to throw a candle at you—why are you back?!”

Bakugou marched toward you, still wide-eyed with a mixture of rage and pure panic. He can’t believe this at all. “More importantly, why the fuck are you lifting boxes?!”

“I was bored!”

“Bored? So you decided to tear a disc and pop a blood vessel?!”

“I didn’t tear anything! And it wasn’t heavy; it’s mostly baby blankets!”

He crouched down instantly to pick it up—still heavy, despite your excuses—and carried it to the nursery, grumbling the entire way. “Goddamn woman’s gonna give me a stroke,” he muttered, though there was never any heat in his words.

You waddled after him, still stunned.

“Wait. Why are you here?!”

“I never left.”

“You… what?”

“I stayed at the agency. Figured I’d come back after you thought I was gone. Catch you red-handed.”

“You liar!”

He turned toward you, his frustration subsiding.

“You’re not even a good liar! You went full fake goodbye mode this morning! You even left me mango sticky rice!”

“Yeah. ‘Cause I knew you’d snoop around and start being reckless the second you thought no one was watching.”

Your cheeks puffed up again. That damn pout.

“I was just nesting,” you mumbled.

“Nesting doesn’t involve deadlifting half a closet,” he shot back. “You promised you’d take it easy.”

“…I thought you were in Korea.”

“Yeah, well, again, surprise.”

You blinked up at him again, eyes soft now, overwhelmed. “…You really stayed just for me?”

When he sets the boxes down, he exhaled and cupped your cheek, thumb brushing under your eye. “You really thought I’d leave you alone on our anniversary? Pregnant? Carrying boxes? Eating dessert by yourself? What do you take me for? A shitty husband?”

You hit his chest weakly.

“You’re so unfair,” you muttered.

“I know,” he grinned. “And I love you.”

You melted then. Completely.

Wrapping your arms around him, your bump pressing into his stomach, you buried your face in his chest and whispered: “I love you too, you dramatic maniac.”

That night, there was no flight. No press. No conference.

Just takeout on the couch, your feet in his lap, mango sticky rice on your plate, and his hand splayed across your belly like a homecoming gift.

Bakugou may have missed a headline.

But he made the right choice.

And that mattered more.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

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...