mktskii

[mktskii]

—Burnt Pancakes and a Loser in Denial

—Synopsis: As a newcomer in a busy restaurant kitchen, you’re a disaster waiting to happen, and Bakugou Katsuki isn’t shy about making that clear. The hot-headed line cook has no time for incompetence, and yet he finds himself begrudgingly stuck with you—his clumsy, relentlessly upbeat coworker who can barely crack an egg. Frustrated with your lack of skill, Bakugou can't explain the nagging urge to keep an eye on you or why your laugh sticks in his mind long after you’ve clocked out. Somewhere between burnt pancakes and late-night cleanups, Bakugou is forced to confront the unsettling truth: he just might be falling for the one person he insists he can’t stand.

—Pairing: Line Cook!Bakugou Katsuki x AFAB!Newbie Line Cook!Reader

—Genre: Slice-of-life, comedy, romance

—Tags: unrequited love (sort of), slow burn, workplace, oblivious crush, enemies to (one-sided) lovers, Bakugou Katsuki x reader, harsh Bakugou, denial, quirkless AU

—Notes: ..uh...hi everyone. soooo exuse my insanly long absence. i could use my excuse that I had lined up but would it really matter?? MOVING ON! i got this idea from @/tokenirainanfriend on tiktok soo go follow him ! THE SERIES WILL BE ON HOLD soly because..well..i need ideas. if you all have any, PLEASE message me! i would like to keep it going for a while. also, apologies to people who can actually cook, I'm taking away your skills for this one. ENJOY!!

Bakugou didn’t understand how anyone could be this goddamn dense. Not in a million years would he have guessed that someone who managed to survive in the world, breathe in and out each day, would lack the most basic ability to crack an egg without turning it into a massacre. And yet, here you were, assigned as his new coworker in the bustling, chaotic depths of the kitchen—his kingdom.

As the restaurant’s most efficient line cook, he’d established a meticulous routine to keep things running at the rapid pace they needed to. No time for nonsense. But now? With you around, it was as if the world itself had taken a nosedive into hellfire. He couldn’t go two seconds without hearing you calling his name over the clattering sounds of spatulas, saucepans, and the relentless sizzle of grills.

“Hey, Bakugou..uh,” you called timidly from behind him, holding a spatula in a death grip.

“What?” He turned, already bracing for whatever catastrophe you were brewing.

You offered him a plate of burnt, vaguely pancake-like shapes. “Do these look…right?”

He took one look. Actually— one GLANCE, and he felt two emotions. Disbelief and pure anger.

“Do they look right?" He scoffed "They look like somethin’ crawled out of a dumpster and got hit by a truck. What the hell do you call that?” He didn’t wait for you to respond, grabbing the plate and practically throwing it into the trash. “You don’t call it food, that’s for sure.”

The embarrassment on your face was plain as day, but you bit your lip, nodded, and set to remaking the pancakes with an exhausted sigh. Bakugou had half a mind to scream—honestly, just to get it out of his system. Why the hell did it bug him that you looked so damn disappointed? It was your own fault for taking a job you clearly had no skills for. And yet…

Goddammit, it pissed him off.

It shouldn’t have, but every time you tripped over your own feet trying to get out of his way, or when you muttered a soft “sorry” as if your very presence was an inconvenience, it lit some unidentifiable fuse in him. Not the usual, angry fuse—something else, something gnawing and ridiculous that had his stomach tying up in impossible knots.

And he wasn’t about to let that feeling win.

A few weeks in, the irritation only intensified. The kitchen was a battleground, and you were making him lose his mind. Bakugou was convinced you were planted there to make him suffer—some sort of karmic punishment for every curse he’d ever muttered and every rude remark he’d thrown.

But something was wrong.

Because somewhere between your second attempt at pancakes and your third night shift, Bakugou found himself…observing you. Watching out of the corner of his eye as you focused, cheeks red with effort, brow furrowed as you strained to not mess up. If someone so much as raised their voice at you (and he was well aware, he’d done more than his fair share), he felt his blood boil with some twisted, misguided desire to tell them to back off.

And he despised that feeling.

Every time he caught himself, Bakugou wanted to smash his head against the freezer door.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” he muttered under his breath, scrubbing a pan with more aggression than necessary. But when you glanced his way, offering that usual tentative smile, it was like the damn pan wasn’t even in his hand anymore. For all he knew, it had slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor—but it wouldn’t have mattered, not with the way his pulse thrummed a little harder, just because of you.

“Did you need any…uh, any help, Bakugou?” you asked quietly, probably hoping not to set off his temper.

It was so ridiculous, he almost laughed—almost.

“Pfft, as if I’d need your help. Just don’t get in my way, alright?” he shot back, trying to ignore the weird pang in his chest at the dejection on your face. But before he could stop himself, he added, “But, uh…I mean, maybe later, if you’re still here, you could work on, I dunno, keeping up with me. No sense in dragging everyone down.”

There was that smile again, softer this time. “I’ll do my best, then.”

Bakugou glared at the pan, willing his pulse to slow down, all the while knowing this was some cosmic joke at his expense.

It wasn’t until one night—one particularly quiet closing shift—that the reality hit him like a two-ton truck.

You were cleaning up the kitchen, humming softly under your breath, and Bakugou was stuck restocking supplies, fuming at the sight of you so…comfortable, so at home in the space you’d once fumbled around in.

And for reasons he could barely understand, he just…watched you. Not out of annoyance or critique, not out of irritation, but just because.

For once, you weren’t trying to make conversation, and he wasn’t telling you off. You looked…content. And when you laughed softly to yourself—at some thought he’d never know—his chest squeezed so tight he was damn sure he’d forgotten how to breathe.

“Hey, idiot,” he muttered, so low he wasn’t sure if you’d even heard him.

You turned, eyebrows raised, that smile making his stomach churn. “Yeah?”

For a moment, he lost track of every insult, every complaint he’d been about to throw at you. Instead, he felt his cheeks burn, and he cursed under his breath, forcing himself to look away.

“Forget it,” he said gruffly, busily organizing the shelf with furious precision. But his mind was already spiraling into the depths of horror: Oh, no. Hell no. No way. This is not happening.

Bakugou Katsuki, a guy who’d barely thought twice about anyone, was…interested? Him? In you?

The thought was absurd. Impossible. But it sat there in his mind, solid as a rock, completely unmoving and irritatingly present. He wanted to punch something—or better yet, punch the feeling itself out of his gut.

For the next hour, he did everything he could to avoid looking your way, stomping around the kitchen like he was gearing up for war, trying to deny this…this idiotic pull. He wasn’t some clueless fool—he’d seen people fall over themselves, getting all mushy and soft around others. But that wasn’t him, dammit.

Yet the feeling sat there, mocking him.

And when you called out, “Goodnight, Bakugou. See you tomorrow!” as you walked out the door, he barely managed a stiff nod. He had an insane urge to follow after you, to make sure you got home safe. Stupid. You can take care of yourself. And it’s not like you’d want him hovering around, anyway.

He slumped against the counter, rubbing his face, silently willing this “crush” or whatever it was to just burn out like a candle in the wind. But he knew it wouldn’t. Not as long as he saw you, talked to you, heard that laugh and saw that damn smile.

Bakugou Katsuki, now a loser in love, was stuck. He’d be damned before he ever admitted it out loud.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

[mktskii]

—Weirdest Homecoming of the Year

—Synopsis It’s homecoming season at U.A., and the chaos of midterms is behind you. Just when you think you can relax, Bakugou Katsuki, the explosive jerk who never seems to leave you alone, surprises you with a request that throws everything off balance. But his gruff demeanor hides a deeper longing that neither of you can fully grasp. As emotions collide and misunderstandings mount, can you both navigate the maze of feelings, and unspoken words to find something real amidst the chaos?

—Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x AFAB Support Course!Reader.

—Genre: Slow-burn romance, slice-of-life.

—Tags: Enemies-to-lovers, banter, RBF reader, not-so-grumpy x still grumpy, miscommunication, one-sided crush ENDS (YAY), support course expertise, Bakugo finally getting fine shytt (you), reader literally wants Bakugou so bad lol, reader wakes up from their denial and realizes they like Bakugou, hoco-inspiration lol.

—Notes: I genuinely wanted to end the series here but, no no no. Enjoy having to wait another long silencing week and gamble if this is gonna end or not. 😈 Also, reader finally not being mean??! Whattttt??

Bakugou Katsuki never did anything half-assed. When he wanted something, he’d go after it with every ounce of his being. So, why the hell was this so hard? You’d already picked Shinsou, and no amount of his griping, complaining, or subtle hint-dropping changed that. But he wasn’t one to give up. Especially not when he was finally beginning to understand why it bothered him so much.

As for you? The last few weeks had been weird.

The days leading up to the midterm review are quieter than expected. After the tense encounter in the Support Lab, Bakugou hadn’t bothered you, and you hadn’t exactly sought him out either. The only time you caught glimpses of him was in the cafeteria, or when he walked past the lab to “conveniently” drop off another piece of busted equipment that seemed to break way too frequently.

Bakugou, who normally stormed into your workspace like he owned the place, demanding fixes for things that definitely didn’t need fixing, had been… different. Quieter, maybe? Or more like, restrained. You weren’t sure how to put it, but you noticed. He wasn’t snapping at you as much, barely retaliated when you gave him a hard time. It was unsettling.

Today was no different. Bakugou had dropped by with his latest set: the infamous broken gauntlets—and not his phone for the 12 billionth time. You found yourself caught off guard by how calm he was as you worked, barely saying anything while you tinkered. The silence was so unlike him.

And then, just as you were about to hand his gauntlets back, you noticed his gaze lingering, his lips pressed into a thin line, as if holding back something. Red alarms blared in your head—Bakugou never just waited like this without yelling. Was he sick?

“Bakugou?” you asked, eyebrow raised.

He just grunted, crossing his arms tightly, his jaw clenching. You could almost see the gears grinding in his head, like he was forcing himself to keep quiet. It was unnerving.

“Spit it out already,” you pressed, annoyed at the tension building in the air.

For a moment, you thought he might explode—literally. But instead, Bakugou gave a sharp, frustrated exhale through his nose and pulled something out of his bookbag. You blinked, caught off guard by the sight of a massive, crumpled piece of paper. No—wait. It wasn’t just paper. It was… a poster?

You read the words, your heart rate picking up as Bakugou shoved it toward you, his cheeks tinted pink with frustration. The words “GO TO HOMECOMING WITH ME OR DIE” were messily scrawled in bold, angry letters, practically taking up the entire space. In a bright red marker, too. But that wasn’t the worst (best??) part.

The background had a collage of explosion clip art and..was that a small drawing of you and him with..SMILY FACES? It looked like a five-year-old had designed it.

“Bakugou… what the hell is this?” you muttered, completely baffled.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and scowled, eyes darting away. “Tch. It's what it looks like, dumbass.”

For a second, you could only stare at the poster, completely dumbfounded. You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or run for the hills. But the longer you stared, the harder it became to hold back a smile. This was… his way of asking you out?

Before you could form a response, Bakugou pulled out a small box of chocolates from inside his bookbag again, almost shoving it into your hands. The wrapper was pristine, the brand one you had mentioned liking once—one time—and he remembered. He wasn’t even looking at you now, staring at the wall like it might swallow him whole.

“So? You goin’ or not?” he asked, voice gruff. He sounded like he’d rather fight a villain than stand there waiting for your answer.

You blinked down at the chocolates, completely caught off guard by how personal the gesture felt. The aggressive, explosion-laden poster was definitely Bakugou, but this? He remembered the brand you liked. He remembered things about you. Wow.

“Bakugou… I…” You trailed off, your heart suddenly feeling a little too full. How long had he been paying attention to you like this?

He cut you off with a huff, clearly growing impatient. “Look, if you’re just gonna say no, then—”

“No,” you interrupted, shaking your head with a small smile. “No, I wasn’t gonna say no. Yeah, I'll go with you.”

Bakugou froze, staring at you like you’d just short-circuited his brain. His brow furrowed in confusion. “Wait, what?”

You took a deep breath, trying not to laugh at how utterly Bakugou this whole situation was. “I said yes, Bakugou. I’ll go to homecoming with you.”

For a moment, you swore he forgot how to breathe. His eyes widened, and for once, the ever-brash Bakugou Katsuki looked completely out of his element.

“Yeah, well, of course you are,” he muttered, crossing his arms and looking away, but the faintest smirk tugged at his lips. “You’d be a damn idiot not to.”

The two of you stood there in silence for a moment, the tension finally breaking, leaving a strange warmth in its place. You hadn’t expected Bakugou’s confession to be so… awkward, but somehow, it worked. It was him—loud, explosive, but with surprising care hidden underneath. He simply nodded and turned to leave, but not before aggressively forcing you to take his number so he'd tell you more about when he'd pick you up.

As you packed up your tools for the day, something in your chest fluttered at the thought of going to homecoming with him, of seeing him in a completely different light.

Homecoming day. To say you were underwhelmed would be an understatement. The whole thing had disaster written all over it. In fact..

Homecoming night didn’t go as planned.

First, Bakugou showed up at your door 20 minutes late, looking like he had just gotten into a fight with a swarm of angry bees. His hair was more tousled than usual, and there was a scowl plastered on his face as if the idea of going to Homecoming was physically painful for him. He blamed his 'Old Hag' (which you learn is how he addresses his Mother. Yikes.) for making him try on 9 billion different suits and, yeah he was making excuses, but you decided to let him pass for this one time.

Second, he refused to say anything the entire walk to the venue, except for the occasional grunt when you tried to make small talk. It was like pulling teeth, trying to get him to open up, but you figured that was just Bakugou being Bakugou.

And third… well, let’s just say the actual event was a disaster.

He radiated 'Debbie downer' energy, basically insulted everyone, and said they all looked 'ass', and well..just about everything wasn't up to his standards. Did he expect to be attending a grand ball? With him, you genuinely would never know.

Oh, and the highlight of his complaints? How the music sucked. Every song that played was something Bakugou clearly hated, and he made sure you knew it.

“This crap again? Can’t they play somethin’ decent?”

"Ugh, another slow song? Gimme a break."

"Whoever picked this shit deserves to get punched in the face."

You were trying to hold back your laughter. “It's homecoming, not your personal concert.”

And of course, there was the awkwardness of people constantly staring. Bakugou had his own fan club, and seeing him with you sparked more than a few curious glances. But Bakugou didn’t care.

At one point, though, it got to be too much. You both ended up outside, sitting on the steps in the cool night air, away from the noise and the stares. You kicked off your uncomfortable heels, stretching your feet with a groan.

“Well, this sucks,” you muttered, looking over at him. “You’re right. Homecoming’s kind of lame.”

Bakugou huffed, leaning back on his elbows, his eyes focused on the night sky. “Told you. These things are pointless.”

"So then, why'd you ask me?" Bakugou clicked his tongue, turning his head slightly like he couldn’t believe you were asking something so obvious. “Who the hell else would I take?” He grumbled, crossing his arms. “Besides… you fix my stuff. Least I can do is take you out, right?”

You laughed softly, and for a moment, everything felt easy. Comfortable, even. Sitting there next to Bakugou, the frustration and awkwardness of the night began to melt away. He didn’t say anything, but the tension between you had shifted. It wasn’t bad. It was just…different.

Suddenly, Bakugou spoke, his voice quieter than usual. “Why didn’t you ask me to be your model?”

The question caught you off guard. You blinked, turning to face him. “Huh?”

“For your midterm project,” he continued, not looking at you. “You picked that Shinsou guy. Why not me?”

You furrowed your brows, unsure why it mattered so much. “I didn’t think you’d want to. You’re…you know, busy.”

“Bullshit.”

Your eyes widened at the bluntness. Bakugou turned his head, finally meeting your gaze, his red eyes sharp. “I would’ve done it. You didn’t even ask.”

"But I saw you turning everyone down."

"That's 'cause I don't like everyone."

You stared at him, speechless. For someone who usually had no problem speaking his mind, this was… different. Vulnerable, almost. Like he was actually bothered by the fact that you hadn’t chosen him. Also, wait. Does that mean he might like you? [yes, you IDIOT.]

“I didn’t know you’d care,” you admitted, your voice softer now.

Bakugou’s eyes flickered, and for the first time that night, his usual scowl softened just a little. “Of course I care, dumbass. I asked you and you just said 'Cool' and that fucking..sucked.”

There was a pause. Neither of you moved, the weight of his words hanging between you. And then, before you could stop yourself, you smiled.

“You coulda just asked like a normal person,” you teased lightly, nudging him with your elbow. "You really are the worst."

He scoffed, the tension breaking. “Yeah, well, you’re not much better.”

Another beat of silence. But this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was something else. Something lighter.

“You wanna get out of here?” Bakugou asked suddenly, pushing himself to his feet.

You raised an eyebrow. “What, and miss the rest of this magical evening?”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, offering you his hand to help you up. “Let’s go.”

You took his hand, warmth spreading through you as his grip tightened around yours. Maybe this wasn’t the perfect night, but for some reason, with Bakugou by your side, it didn’t feel like a disaster anymore. It felt like…something else. Something better.

As you walked away from the noise of the dance, his hand still holding yours, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

Maybe this wasn’t such a bad night after all.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

‧₊˚tags:

@fta1ask4 @caaaddddyyy @matchat3a @meeeepsworld @rosemarygalaxy

[mktskii]

—Fixing More Than Gear

—Synopsis: The Support Course midterm project is supposed to be a breeze—design a piece of gear, find a model to test it, and call it a day. But when your quiet plan to work with someone under the radar takes a surprising turn, you find yourself caught up in an unexpected situation. Bakugou, the annoying jerk who keeps coming to you to fix his stuff, has other ideas for your project, and for some reason, he won't leave you alone. What happens when a simple request turns into something far more complicated?

—Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x AFAB + Support Course!Reader.

—Genre: Slow-burn romance, slice-of-life.

—Tags: Enemies-to-lovers, banter, RBF reader, grumpier x grumpest, miscommunication, one-sided crush continues (HAHA), support course expertise, Bakugou struggling even more with feelings, Bakugou literally wants reader so bad lol, reader is tired of everyone's shit, reader is so done with Bakugou's bs, reader CANNOT catch signals, this slow-burn actually killed me to type down but i will NOT end this series cuz i love this too much.

It’s that time of year—midterms. Everyone in U.A. has to do some kind of big assignment, but for the Support Course, it's something special. This year, Power Loader, the faculty member overseeing the Support Development Studio, made things easy—or so he thought. The task? Create any kind of support gear you want and have someone from U.A. model and test it. Preferably a hero course student, but anyone would do.

That’s how the chaos started.

Class 1-A quickly became a battlefield of Support Course students swarming the top three—Bakugou, Todoroki, and Midoriya. They begged, pleaded, and even offered bribes to get one of them to model their gear. Bakugou? He was having none of it. He exploded (literally and verbally) at anyone who dared approach him with the idea of "modeling." He was a hero-in-training, not a damn mannequin.

But here’s the thing. Deep down, even though Bakugou found the entire situation annoying, he kind of… maybe… secretly… wanted you to ask him.

Bakugou, being Bakugou, had his own reputation to maintain, and there was no way in hell he was going to make the first move. You were supposed to come to him. You knew him, after all. You fixed his gear (and stuff he deemed needing fixing from you personally) all the time. So, it made sense for you to pick him, right? He found a way to sort of pay you back for everything you've done for him.

But then, when he found out that you picked Shinsou Hitoshi from General Studies? Oh, that was when the sparks really flew. You were actually polite to Shinsou, working with him without any of the usual sarcasm or snark you threw at Bakugou. And the fact that Shinsou wasn’t even in the hero course? That stung. You’d seriously rather ask someone from General Studies than ask THE Bakugou Katsuki? Seriously?

He wasn’t jealous. Definitely not. It wasn’t about you. It was about proving that he should have been your first choice. That this was a way for him to say 'thanks' without actually having to say it.

Right?

Now Bakugou had a choice. He could let it go, let you work with Shinsou and forget about the whole thing. Or, he could try something a little out of his comfort zone—actually asking (or forcing..) you into picking him instead. And being Bakugou, there was no way he was going to let something he wanted slip away.

One afternoon, Bakugou stomped his way into the Support Lab, making his presence known with his usual dramatic flair. Everyone else working in the lab was still trying to get used to it by now, and you? You didn’t even glance up from your workbench.

Bakugou, holding up a busted watch, plopped it onto your workspace with an annoyed grunt. “Fix it,” he demanded, his tone implying you owed him something.

You gave him a quick, disinterested glance.

"Again?" you ask, raising an eyebrow, but not really paying much attention. It's just a watch. He watched as you picked the watch up and muttered something about how it didn’t look that broken. You got to work and it took about 2 minutes since, cmon. You’ve fixed way more complicated things for him before. But this was seriously starting to get out of hand.

While you work on his watch, Bakugou starts subtly bringing up the subject of the midterm projects. Or, as subtle as he can be, which is basically him complaining about how much everyone in the Support Course sucks.

“They keep askin’ me to model for their stupid gear,” he grumbles, crossing his arms and glaring at the mess of support tools on your desk.

"Yeah, that sounds about right," you mutter, already tired of the topic. “Everyone’s desperate.”

You don’t think much of it, just nodding in agreement because, yeah, Support Course students were pretty much throwing themselves at any hero course student (hell, any student at this point.) that would listen. But Bakugou? He's trying his hardest to steer the conversation in a particular direction.

“So, who are you gettin’ to be your model?” he asks, barely masking the irritation in his voice. His eyes are on you, waiting for your response.

You shrug. “I already got Shinsou from General Studies. He agreed.”

That’s when Bakugou’s patience starts wearing thin. His jaw clenches, and he has to fight every urge to not let his temper flare up. He already knew that, but hearing it straight from you? That you seriously picked Shinsou? Over him? That stung more than he'd ever like to acknowledge.

“That guy? What’s his Quirk again? Mind control or somethin’?” Bakugou scoffs, trying to hide the fact that he’s more annoyed than usual.

“Yeah,” you answer, without looking up. “He’s quiet. Doesn’t complain much. Gets the job done.”

Bakugou can feel his eye twitch. You hadn’t even thought of him? He nearly short-circuited on the spot, but forced himself to stay calm. His brain screamed at him to not blow it. So, he tried another tactic. “Tch, why not pick someone better? Like… I dunno, a hero or some shit?”

You didn’t even blink. “Like who? Power Loader said it could be anyone. Shinsou’s quieter.”

"Someone who’d actually make your damn gear look good," Bakugou mutters, trying to drop the hint, but you’re completely oblivious.

“Yeah? Well, no one comes to mind.”

Bakugou's temper is rising, but he knows if he blows up, it'll ruin the whole thing. He takes a breath—short, angry, but controlled—and tries one last time.

"I could do it so much better than that sleep-eyed loser." There it was. He had practically laid it out for you, all but outright saying he wanted you to pick him. But instead of jumping at the opportunity, you just handed him his now-fixed watch, scoffed, and said, “Cool, well, good luck with your own midterm.”

Bakugou blinked. That’s it? You didn’t even catch the hint? You probably thought he was joking or something. But, still! Was that not obvious enough?

He took the watch, his frustration boiling to the surface. He wanted to scream, “I’M TRYING TO HELP YOU, DAMMIT!” but instead, he just gritted his teeth and stormed out, the door rattling behind him. You went back to your work, entirely unaware of the emotional crisis Bakugou was going through just because you didn’t ask him to model for your damn project.

As the door slammed shut behind him, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of confusion about your interaction. Had Bakugou actually wanted you to ask him? Or was he just being a jerk, as usual?

It didn’t matter. You had Shinsou lined up, and Bakugou was just Bakugou.

But inside, his spirit felt shattered. Why was it so hard to just admit he wanted to be chosen? Why did he have to play this game when all he wanted was to spend more time with you?

As Bakugou walked away, he realized he couldn’t let this opportunity slip through his fingers. This was his chance to prove himself, not just as a hero but as someone you might actually choose.

He’d find a way to make it happen. No matter what it took.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

‧₊˚tags:

@caaaddddyyy

@fta1ask4

@matchat3a

[mktskii]

Ur support course bakugou fic literally inspired me to make a whole ass oc… thank you 🙏🩵🩵🩵

AAAAAA UR WELCOMEEE !!!! <3

[mktskii]

`ABOUT.ME`

⠀₊‧⁺about me; boba enjoyer, sanrio lover, and bakugou katsuki fanatic

⠀⠀⠀.•୭₊◞ maki ⠀★ ⠀17 ⠀★⠀virgo ⠀★⠀infj

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⋆ 2000's crime TV shows, white chocolate, bakugou, baking,=♡

[mktskii]

—Explosive Fixation

part two.

—Synopsis: Bakugou's pride takes a massive hit when he finds himself drawn to someone outside the hero course—the best support course student he’s ever met, and the person who couldn’t care less about him. What starts as begrudging respect (and annoyance) slowly turns into something he can’t ignore. Now, if only his stupid gauntlets would stop breaking long enough for him to figure out how to deal with these frustrating, unfamiliar feelings.

—Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x AFAB + Support Course!Reader.

—Genre: Slow-burn romance, slice-of-life.

—Tags: Enemies-to-lovers, banter, RBF reader, grumpy x grumpier, miscommunication, one-sided crush, support course expertise, Bakugou struggling with feelings, Bakugou crushing on reader so hard, reader is tired of everyone's shit, reader does not take Bakugou serious AT all.

Bakugou finding himself crushing on someone from the support course? The very idea would have Bakugou ready to throw himself into an explosion, especially since you're not even in the hero course. How did this happen? You're just a regular student from the support department, not some flashy hero-in-training. Hell, you don’t even try to impress people! Bakugou's Bakugou—so why, out of all the people, is he suddenly caught up in the fact that he likes you like that?

It all started with his gauntlets, which were, as always, broken after another insane training session. This time, however, Hatsume Mei was busy with a massive backlog of orders. So, when he stormed into the support lab to demand a quick fix, Hatsume just waved him off with a nonchalant “go ask them” and pointed to you, buried under a mountain of tools and gear. You were known in the department, even beyond that. People whispered that you were better than Hatsume herself when it came to making support items, which was already wild because Hatsume was a freakin' genius. But here’s the kicker—you didn’t want the attention. You didn’t care for the praise or even the stress of constant requests for new gear. Okay, fine. Maybe you do a little. And when Bakugou, the most demanding, arrogant student in the entire school, barged into your workspace, his booming voice interrupting your flow, you quite literally did not want to put up with his shit. “Get out.” Your voice was cold, indifferent, and to the point. Bakugou had expected, well, anything else—maybe some stammering or apologies and you dropping everything and fixing his gauntlets like he demanded. But this? Definitely not this complete lack of interest. He was fuming. “Do you know who the hell I am?” he growled.

Your eyes barely flicked up from the blueprint you were studying, annoyance clear in your expression. “Yeah. And I don’t care. Get out of my workspace.”

Needless to say, Bakugou had never been kicked out of anywhere before, and the fact that you banned him from ever asking for your help? Or, more correctly, fixing his stuff? That hit harder than any villain could. When he ranted to Kirishima, expecting him to agree with how crazy you were for doing all that, Kirishima was disappointed in him—actually disappointed for screwing up such a basic request. You? You were the best at what you do, and somehow, Bakugou had managed to ruin his only chance at getting you to fix his gauntlets.

Bakugou, in classic Bakugou fashion, decides to fix his gauntlets himself. He sketched up the mechanics of his gauntlets, so how hard could it be? Turns out, really freaking hard. Not only does he botch the repair, but his malfunctioning gauntlets accidentally explode during class, damaging some of his classmates and earning him the wrath of Aizawa and everyone else. He’s pissed—at himself, at his classmates, and mostly at the fact that he can’t get those damn gauntlets fixed without swallowing his pride and asking you.

The next time he sees you, it’s different. He doesn’t storm into your workspace like last time. He’s gritting his teeth, practically seething, but he still manages to blurt out, “Sorry for bein' an asshole. Fix this… please.” It sounds like the word “please” burns his tongue, but he says it.

You stare at him for a moment, and give him a sharp scoff but take his gauntlets. As you examined them, you muttered curses under your breath about “egotistical hero course jerks” and “time-wasting nonsense.” But, despite your annoyance, you went above and beyond. You reinforced his original design, making it stronger, lighter, and more streamlined for better control. When you handed them back, they didn’t look any different on the outside, but Bakugou could feel the difference the moment he tried them on. They were perfect.

For once, he didn’t have anything to complain about.

That’s when the “crush” began creeping in—though he’d rather die than admit it. Suddenly, he found himself making excuses to come back. His gauntlets were “damaged” again because he never knew just when to stop training. His headphones were “broken” (even though they weren’t). His phone “shattered” for no reason. Every stupid thing he could think of, he brought to you, just to have another interaction.

But the funniest part? You never gave him the satisfaction of a reaction. Your resting bitch face (legendary, by the way) stayed neutral, and your voice remained flat, devoid of excitement. You rolled your eyes, cursed under your breath, and muttered sarcastic comments as you fixed whatever Bakugou brought you. If anyone pissed you off, especially Bakugou, you'd mutter high-pitched imitations of their voice while glaring out of the corner of your eye, making him feel oddly uncertain—like he was the one out of place for once.

He hated it. You were smart. You matched his freakish drive to perfect your craft. And worst of all—you looked too good. Even after explosions from Hatsume’s latest disaster left you covered in soot, your tired, messy look didn’t detract from how attractive you were. It pissed him off.

But here’s the thing—he was still a dick. Despite the fact that he’d come back over and over, pretending his gauntlets needed another fix or inventing some nonsense reason to see you, he would never admit to liking you and, so, he’d go out of his way to piss you off just because, well, he can. So, hell no. He was not falling for some support course student who barely gave him the time of day.

...Right?

That’s what Bakugou kept telling himself, anyway, even as he found himself lingering a bit too long in the lab, watching you work with laser focus, unaware of the chaos happening in his head.

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[mktskii]

—Coffee Confession

—Synopsis: Bakugou Katsuki, a student at the prestigious U.A. High, works part-time at a café, where he begrudgingly deals with annoying customers for some extra cash—until you show up. A new transfer from the States, you're still learning Japanese, and Bakugou, known for his tough attitude, surprisingly goes out of his way to make your favorite drink just right.

—Pairing: Barista!Bakugou Katsuki x AFAB!blk + interational!reader

—Genre: Slow-burn thats lowkey a bit fast-ish(?), Slice of Life, Quirkless AU

—Tags: Quirkless AU, café setting, crush to lovers, fluff, cutness, secret soft side, Bakugou being a cutie, cute confession, cultural differences, language barrier, reader from the states, UA high school.

Bakugou couldn’t believe it. Of all the part-time jobs he could've taken, he ended up working at a cafe. It wasn’t like he needed the money—he was already attending the most prestigious school in Japan, U.A. Academy, where future business leaders, innovators, and geniuses like him were trained. But a job was a job, and for some reason, the idea of working in a cafe didn’t seem all that bad. Plus, he liked money. Except for when they showed up.

"Hey, Bakugou!" A group of annoying guys he hated from U.A. strolled into the cafe. They were the type he despised—the overly popular, arrogant jocks that people gravitated to. Bakugou had beef with them for as long as he could remember. The day they beat him by a measly three points in that basketball game still burned in his brain. He took orders with his usual scowl, holding back the urge to shove them out the door. When they asked for caramel lattes, his mouth twitched in delight. He spoke without really thinking about it.

“We don’t have caramel today. Get something else, unless you want a regular latte,” he said, his tone dripping with venom.

The idiots groaned and, after a few minutes of begging him to check if he was absolutely sure it wasn't in stock, walked off. Bakugou was pleased.

But that’s when you stepped up to the counter. You, with your deep caramel skin and soft glow, looking like you were straight out of a painting. The way your tight curls framed your face, highlighting your striking almond-shaped eyes, made Bakugou freeze. He’d seen you around U.A. before—always asking for directions in broken Japanese, struggling to find your way. You weren’t like those other morons; you had a calm, almost serene aura that intrigued him. Just barely, though. But you always looked so lost, and now, here you were, clearly overwhelmed by the menu and situation.

You panicked a little, your fingers drumming against the counter as you tried to figure out what to order. "Um… sorry… give me a second," you stammered, your accent thick but your effort admirable. You had wanted a caramel latte, too.

Bakugou, normally impatient with customers, felt a strange pull to not be his usual rude self. He almost snapped, but he found himself biting his tongue. You were just… different.

“Take your time,” he said, almost too casually.

You looked up in surprise, probably expecting him to yell at you like he did to everyone else. Even you knew about his reputation by now. His face still held that signature scowl, and yet, behind his fiery eyes, there was something softer there. Something less abrasive. He watched you, trying not to let his face betray anything, but you, like most people, probably mistook his intense gaze for irritation. And sure, Bakugou looked pissed a lot, but this time, it wasn’t that. He was just... looking at you.

When you finally settled on a regular latte, you gave him your name. His friends, Sero, Kaminari, and Kirishima, finally showed up, ready to work, but Bakugou had already zoomed to make your drink himself. He even threw in some caramel for you, even though he'd just told the others they were out of stock. He could assume you wanted it, since the few times you'd come, he always heard you order it. Today was just his day. He's making it for you. You weren't one of those idiots he hated; you didn’t deserve the same treatment. Not that he liked you or anything. Definitely not. He just didn’t hate you.

“Here,” he said, handing you the latte, brushing off your confused look when you realized there was caramel in it.

"Didn't you say there wasn’t any caramel?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Bakugou shrugged, handing it to you with a gruff, “Found some in the back.”

You smiled and nodded, seemingly grateful for the small gesture, and left the cafe. But then, you glanced at the name he’d written on your cup. You squinted, trying to decipher the kanji.

“‘Girl who takes too long to order’…?”

You couldn’t help but giggle. Despite his intimidating exterior, Bakugou had a funny, albeit slightly insulting, sense of humor. It didn’t stop there, though. Every time you came back, he wrote something different.

“Caramel latte for the caramel-looking girl.”

“Order for the nerdy brat.”

“Drink for the idiot who speaks trash Japanese.”

But each time, you only smiled and rolled your eyes, giving him a look that said, Really? He’d just shrug, smug as ever.

His friends noticed, of course. Kaminari figured it out first. "Dude, you totally like her," he teased one day when you weren’t around. Bakugou immediately punched him in the shoulder. Hard.

Every time you would come in, Bakugou glared at them, daring them to say something to you. Sero, being the linguist of the group, once tried to speak to you in English, and you looked so relieved and happy to finally understand someone that Bakugou nearly exploded from jealousy.

After that, he downloaded Duolingo, ready to tear that annoying green bird apart if it meant he could speak to you fluently. Learning English was a pain, but the thought of seeing that same smile you gave Sero was worth it. He needed to be the one to make you smile like that.

Not that he liked you or anything. No way. You were just… well, fine.

He liked you.

But Bakugou being Bakugou, he was really nervous to confess and act all lovey or whatever. That wasn’t his style. So, he kept up the insults, kept up the weird names on your cups, hoping you’d catch on eventually that they were slowly not so insulting anymore.

And then one day, after your usual order, you rushed out the door, clearly late for something. You didn’t have time to look at the cup until you were halfway down the street. You pulled it up to your face and read the label.

“‘Pretty girl I want to date.’”

You stopped dead in your tracks, heart pounding. Did you read that right? You glanced back at the cafe, feeling a rush of adrenaline. Before you knew it, you were running back, nearly knocking someone over in your hurry. You burst through the doors, slightly out of breath, and caught Bakugou’s eyes from across the counter.

He looked… devastated that he didn’t get to see your initial reaction. But when you stood there, staring at him with wide eyes, the hint of a blush on his cheeks gave him away.

It wasn’t the most conventional confession. But for Bakugou? It was perfect.

“Well? What’s your answer, dumbass?” he muttered, trying to hide how nervous he actually was.

You just smiled.

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