✦ 𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑰𝑬 she isfp eighteen katsuki’s pretty girl ✦
a bouquet of stories ♰ rose etiquette
©rosereveries all works belong to rosereveries, please do not plagiarize.

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✦ 𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑰𝑬 she isfp eighteen katsuki’s pretty girl ✦
a bouquet of stories ♰ rose etiquette
©rosereveries all works belong to rosereveries, please do not plagiarize.
bakugou who—quietly yearns for you ever since he laid his eyes on you, which became his favorite habit.
𖦹 content. k.bakugou x reader. fluff
Katsuki Bakugou liked to think he wasn’t the type of person who got distracted.
He trained harder than anyone else in Class 1-A. He didn’t waste time daydreaming. He didn’t stare out windows. He certainly didn’t spend entire lessons watching someone instead of paying attention.
At least, that’s what he told himself.
The problem was you.
Bakugou still remembered the first time he saw you. It wasn’t dramatic. No slow motion. No grand realization.
You had simply walked into class on your first day, looking mildly annoyed because your bag strap had gotten caught on the door handle.
Most people would’ve ignored it.
Bakugou didn’t.
And somehow, after that, he never stopped noticing you.
At first, it was accidental.
He noticed how you always arrived a few minutes early.
How you tapped your pencil against your desk whenever you were thinking.
How you scrunched your nose when reading difficult material.
How you secretly slipped snacks to Kaminari whenever he forgot breakfast.
Tiny things. Meaningless things.
Things he absolutely shouldn’t have remembered.
Yet somehow, they stayed.
Watching you became a habit.
Then the habit became his favorite part of the day.
He’d catch sight of you laughing with your friends in the hallway.
See you practicing your quirk after class.
Hear your voice across the training grounds.
And every single time, something inside him settled.
Which was incredibly irritating, because Bakugou Katsuki didn’t do feelings. Especially not whatever this was.
Unfortunately, his classmates were beginning to notice.
One afternoon, everyone was gathered in the common room.
You sat across the room, completely unaware.
Bakugou wasn’t even trying to stare.
He just happened to glance up.
And then glance up again. And again. And maybe a fourth time.
“Bro.” Kirishima’s voice cut through the silence.
Bakugou frowned. “What?”
Kirishima looked between him and you.
Then back at him. “Oh.”
Bakugou immediately hated that tone. “Oh what?”
Kaminari suddenly sat up. “What? What happened?”
Kirishima pointed. At him. Then at you.
Bakugou’s stomach dropped. “No.”
“Oh my god,” Kaminari gasped.
“NO.”
“You like her!”
“I DON’T.”
“You’ve been staring at her for fifteen minutes.”
“I HAVE NOT.”
“You literally smiled.”
The room went silent.
Bakugou froze. “…What?”
Kaminari looked horrified. “Dude.”
Kirishima looked equally shocked. “Dude.”
Bakugou’s eye twitched. “What are you idiots talking about?”
“You smiled.”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
“I DID NOT.”
“You looked at her like she just won the Sports Festival.”
Bakugou felt heat crawl up his neck.
Impossible. Absolutely impossible.
He was careful. Nobody was supposed to notice.
Unfortunately, at that exact moment, you looked up.
Your eyes met his.
For one terrible second, neither of you looked away.
Then you smiled. A small one. Soft and warm.
Only for him.
And Bakugou forgot how to breathe.
Across the room, Kaminari slammed both hands over his mouth.
Kirishima looked like he was witnessing history.
Bakugou immediately stood. “I’m leaving.”
“You’ve got it bad.”
“SHUT UP.”
He stormed out of the common room while laughter erupted behind him.
But as he walked away, one thought lingered stubbornly in his mind.
Because for all his efforts to hide it—
for all the years he’d spent pretending not to care—
there was one truth he could never escape.
Watching you had become his favorite habit.
And he wasn’t sure he wanted to stop anymore.
©rosereveries
bakugou who—always keeps his hand on your waist
𖦹 content. k.bakugou x reader. fluff
Bakugou isn’t the type to say things out loud. He just… does stuff.
Like his hand. It always ends up on the back of your waist.
The first time, you thought it was random. You were walking together, and suddenly his hand was there, steady and warm, guiding you forward. “Keep up,” he muttered like it meant nothing.
But it kept happening.
Crossing the street, standing too close to the curb, even just walking side by side. His hand would rest there for a second, sometimes longer, like it belonged.
One night, when it was quiet and there was no reason for it, you finally said, “You know you do that a lot, right?”
“Do what?”
You glanced down at his hand on your waist. He didn’t pull away.
“This.”
He clicked his tongue. “So you don’t wander off.”
You smiled a little. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”
“Didn’t say you were.”
You leaned a bit closer just to see what he’d do. His hand tightened slightly, keeping you there.
You looked up at him. “You’re so obvious.”
“Tch. Shut up.”
But he didn’t move his hand.
©rosereveries
bakugou who—prefers the old flavor.
𖦹 content. k.bakugou x reader. fluff
Bakugou noticed the second his lips touched yours.
It was quick, barely a kiss, just something he stole in passing, but he pulled back almost immediately, brows knitting.
“…What the hell is that?”
You blinked, confused. “What?”
“Your lip gloss.” He frowned, like it personally offended him. “It’s different.”
You let out a small laugh. “Oh. Yeah, I changed it. It’s peach now.”
Bakugou clicked his tongue, clearly unimpressed. “Tch. It was better before.”
You tilted your head, teasing. “Since when do you care?”
He hesitated, eyes flicking to your lips before looking away. “…It tasted better.”
That made you pause.
“…You mean the strawberry one?”
“Yeah,” he muttered, ears slightly red. “That one.”
You smiled a little, stepping closer again. “You’re picky.”
“Shut up.”
You leaned in anyway, brushing your lips against his just to annoy him but this time, he didn’t pull away as fast.
Still, he grumbled under his breath,
“…Bring the old one back.”
©rosereveries
bakugou who—hates your merch.
𖦹 content. k.bakugou x reader. fluff
Your door slammed open.
“Oi.”
You turned—and immediately froze. Katsuki Bakugou stood there, staring at your walls.
Posters. Figures. Plushies. All of him.
“…What the hell is this?”
You laughed nervously. “I can explain—”
He grabbed a poster, then pointed at himself. “You have the real thing right here. The fuck you need all these for?”
You blinked. “…Because I like you.”
Silence.
He froze. Then his ears turned red, and he looked away, clicking his tongue. “Tch. That’s dumb.”
You smiled.
He picked up a small plush of himself, squinting at it. “…Why’s it look like that?”
“It’s supposed to be cute.”
He stared at it… then quickly set it down.
“Whatever,” he muttered, turning away. “Don’t tell anyone about this.”
“…About your fanclub?”
“IT’S NOT A FANCLUB!”
sorry for the month-long disappearance, writer’s block got to me :(
©rosereveries
bakugou who—had zero games when it comes to asking you out.
𖦹 content. k.bakugou x reader. fluff
Katsuki Bakugou could fight villains.
He could win battles.
He could scare almost anyone with one glare.
But when it came to you?
The guy had zero game.
You were sitting outside the UA dorms when Bakugou suddenly appeared in front of you.
“Oi.”
You looked up. “Hi?”
He crossed his arms like he was about to start an argument.
“You busy this weekend?”
You blinked. “…Why?”
Bakugou’s eye twitched.
“For training, dumbass.”
“Oh.” You tilted your head. “Where?”
He hesitated.
“…The mall.”
You stared at him.
“…You hate malls.”
“SHUT UP.”
From the window behind you, Mina whispered loudly to Kirishima.
“OH MY GOD HE’S TRYING TO ASK THEM OUT.”
Kirishima covered his mouth. “He’s so bad at this.”
You looked back at Bakugou, who was now refusing to make eye contact.
“…So,” you said, smiling a little. “Is this a date?”
Bakugou froze.
His ears turned bright red.
“IT’S TRAINING.”
“…At the food court?”
“…SHUT UP.”
You laughed.
“…Okay. I’ll go.”
Bakugou blinked like he didn’t expect that answer.
Then he turned away quickly, muttering,
“Don’t be late, idiot.”
©rosereveries
bakugou who—can win any fight but loses to you.
𖦹 content. k.bakugou x reader. fluff
The whole class knew.
Not in a subtle way. Not in a “maybe?” way.
In a painfully obvious, loud, explosive way.
It started with how Katsuki Bakugou would always sit next to you in Class 1-A. He claimed it was because “Deku’s face is annoying” or “I just like this seat, idiot,” but the seat magically became your seat every single time.
You, however, were completely oblivious.
“Bakugou, can you pass me the notes?” you asked sweetly one afternoon.
He shoved the notebook toward you a little too fast. “Tch. You’d fail without me.”
From across the room, Kirishima leaned toward Kaminari.
“Bro,” he whispered. “He rewrote those notes three times.”
“I KNOW,” Kaminari whispered back. “He even used a ruler.”
Meanwhile, you were smiling. “Thanks, Bakugou! You’re such a good friend.”
Friend.
The word nearly caused a small explosion in his palm.
bakugou who—can’t admit he likes your silly pictures.
𖦹 content. k.bakugou x reader. fluff
You knew Bakugou well enough to know he wasn’t exactly the type to gush over cute stuff, but that didn’t stop you. In fact, it made it way more fun.
It started with something small—a selfie with bunny ears you’d taped onto your head for a dare. You sent it to him with a caption: “Behold, the terror of cuteness!”
The reply came fast: “What the hell is this?”
You grinned. That reaction was all you needed. It became a little game. Every day, you would send him something ridiculous, a duck face, a silly tongue-out selfie, a photo of you in oversized sunglasses pretending to be a spy. You didn’t expect him to reply every time. But sometimes he did.
“Stop.”
Or, one time, “You’re annoying.”
And you knew that “annoying” in Bakugou-speak basically meant he liked it.
Then there was the day you sent him a picture of yourself holding a giant, floppy pancake over your face like a mask, with syrup dripping everywhere. You expected silence, or maybe a sharp “why?”
But his reply shocked you: “…Huh. Not bad.”
Your heart jumped the little jump it always did when he admitted, even indirectly, that he liked something about you. You almost sent a follow-up selfie of yourself jumping for joy, but decided against it. He didn’t need to see that much of your chaotic energy.
Still, the next day, you sent another. And another.
And Bakugou? Well, he never admitted it out loud, but you were sure by now he secretly looked forward to them.
©rosereveries
bakugou who—pretends it’s just practical.
𖦹 content. k.bakugou x reader. fluff
Crowds were Bakugou Katsuki’s personal hell.
Too loud. Too slow. Too many people bumping into him like they had a death wish.
And you—walking just ahead of him, were way too easy to lose.
“Oi. Don’t wander.”
“I’m not,” you said, turning your head slightly. “You’re the one—”
You stopped when you felt it.
A tug. Light, familiar.
Bakugou’s fingers hooked into one of your belt loops, knuckles brushing your hip like it meant absolutely nothing. Like he’d done it a hundred times before. Like this was just… normal.
You blinked. “Bakugou.”
“What?” he snapped. “It’s crowded.”
“That’s my belt.”
“So?” He didn’t let go. In fact, his grip tightened just a little when someone shoved past. “You disappear every five seconds. I’m not digging through extras to find you again.”
Your heart did something stupid.
You kept walking.
People parted around his scowl, but Bakugou stayed close, close enough that you could feel the heat of him at your back, close enough that his thumb rested against the fabric like it belonged there. Every time the crowd surged, his hold grounded you, wordless and steady.
It was oddly comforting.
At one point you slowed down on purpose.
He noticed instantly.
“Tch. What now?”
You smiled. “Just checking if you’d let go.”
He yanked your belt loop forward, pulling you back against his chest for half a second too long.
“Don’t push it,” he muttered, ears pink. “I said don’t get lost.”
You laughed, soft and warm, and Bakugou looked away still holding on.
Because letting go?
Yeah. That wasn’t happening.
©rosereveries
bakugou who—pretends to hate it but secretly loves it
𖦹 content. k.bakugou x reader. fluff
You plopped down next to Bakugou on the couch, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. In your hand was a black pen—one you knew he hated.
“Hey,” you said innocently, holding up his hand. “Let me draw something.”
Bakugou looked at you suspiciously, his crimson eyes narrowing. “What? No. I don’t need your dumb scribbles on me.”
“Aw, come on,” you whined, poking his side. “It’s just a little fun. I won’t even do anything permanent.”
He huffed, crossing his arms and pretending to glare, though the faint twitch of his lips betrayed him. “This is dumb,” he muttered, but didn’t pull his hand away.
Carefully, you began drawing tiny hearts across his palm, each one met with a dramatic groan.
“Stop… seriously… this is stupid,” Bakugou complained, but the way his eyes flicked down to watch your hand move betrayed that he secretly liked it.
“Almost done,” you said, finishing with a flourish. “There! Cute, right?”
He snatched his hand back, shaking it slightly, as if that would erase the evidence. “Don’t expect me to wash this off. I’m not a baby.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re just gonna let me leave little hearts on your hand all day?”
Bakugou’s ears heated slightly, and he looked away. “I said I’m not a baby, not that I’m scared of a few dumb hearts. Now leave me alone.”
And just like that, he didn’t wash it off. All day, he kept his hand turned slightly toward you, fingers flexing subtly over the tiny hearts you drew, and you couldn’t help but smile.
Even when he acted annoyed, you knew it was his way of saying… he liked it.
©rosereveries
bakugou who—freezes whenever you talk to him.
𖦹 content. k.bakugou x reader. fluff
Bakugou Katsuki was loud with everyone.
He barked orders during training, snapped at extras in the halls, and yelled insults like they were breathing exercises. Explosions cracked easily from his palms when he fought confident, aggressive, unstoppable.
So it was… noticeable when you spoke to him.
“Bakugou,” you said one afternoon, catching up to him outside the locker rooms. “Aizawa-sensei said you forgot your combat report.”
The effect was instant.
Bakugou froze mid-step.
Like—fully froze.
His shoulders locked, his jaw went tight, and for a solid second, his brain completely short-circuited. The hallway noise faded as his ears burned red.
“…Tch,” he muttered, way too late. “I—yeah. I know.”
He turned a little too stiffly, eyes refusing to meet yours. “I was gonna turn it in.”
“You were?” you asked gently, smiling.
Static. Literal static crackled from his palms before he yanked his hands into his pockets.
“DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT,” he snapped, voice cracking just enough to be suspicious. “I said I had it under control!”
Kirishima, standing a few lockers away, blinked. “Bro… are you okay?”
“I’M FINE!” Bakugou barked immediately, too fast, too loud. “Why wouldn’t I be fine?!”
You tilted your head. “I didn’t say you weren’t.”
Silence.
Bakugou swallowed. His ears were bright red now. He cleared his throat and tried again, lower, calmer, forced. “You can just… leave it on my desk.”
“Okay,” you said. “Thanks, Bakugou.”
You walked away.
The moment you were gone, Bakugou exhaled like he’d just survived a boss battle.
Kaminari leaned over. “Dude. You freeze every time they talk to you.”
“I DO NOT.”
“You literally stopped moving.”
“Tch—shut up.”
He waited until you turned the corner before unclenching his fists.
Fighting was easy for Bakugou Katsuki.
Talking to you wasn’t.
©rosereveries
bakugou who—kept catching himself staring.
𖦹 content. k.bakugou x reader. fluff
Bakugou didn’t notice it at first.
For the first few weeks, he kept catching himself doing something… weird. Something he never did.
He’d be in class, arms crossed, pretending to listen, and suddenly—
there you were in his line of sight.
Reading. Smiling. Twirling your pen.
Doing absolutely nothing special.
And he’d catch himself staring.
“The hell…?” he’d mutter under his breath, snapping his head away so fast Kaminari once asked if he had a neck cramp.
He didn’t get it.
Why was his chest acting strange?
Why did his brain go silent whenever you laughed?
Why did he keep memorizing how you looked without even trying?
One time during training, he nearly blasted himself off balance because you shouted “nice one, Bakugou!” from the sidelines.
He swore it was just distraction.
(Not that dumb feeling in his stomach.)
Another time, he found himself lingering in the common room longer than he meant to, just because you were there folding laundry and humming.
“That song’s out of tune,” he barked.
But he didn’t leave.
It wasn’t until Kirishima smacked him on the back and whispered,
“Bro, you like them,”
that everything finally clicked.
Bakugou froze.
His ears went red.
He stared at you—again.
But this time, he knew exactly why.
You looked up, catching him.
“Bakugou? You okay?”
He scoffed, turning away with a blush.
“Tch. Quit askin’ stupid questions.”
But his heart was pounding, loud and explosive.
And for once… he didn’t mind.
©rosereveries
bakugou who—keeps every notes he says he hates.
𖦹 content. k.bakugou x reader. fluff
Bakugou always said your sticky notes were “immature.”
Every time you slid one onto the corner of his notebook during class—usually a doodle of him with angry eyebrows, or a tiny “good luck on the quiz >:3” he’d scowl, crumple it halfway, and hiss, “Quit it, stupid. We’re in class.”
But he never threw a single one away.
You didn’t know that part.
To you, he acted exactly the same, rolling his eyes, shoving the note into his pocket, muttering under his breath as if the whole world was conspiring to distract him. And yet, you still passed him another sticky note the next day. And the next. And the next.
One rainy afternoon, you rushed back into the classroom to grab your water bottle… and froze.
Bakugou was still there, alone, rummaging through his bag. You were about to greet him when something slipped out of his notebook and fluttered to the floor.
A familiar peach-colored sticky note.
Your handwriting.
You blinked. Then you noticed another one sticking out of a different folder. And another tucked into the front pocket of his backpack. And a tiny stack, carefully pressed flat peeking inside his pencil case.
He looked up, eyes widening slightly when he realized you’d seen.
“…The hell are you staring at?” he snapped, cheeks warming just a bit too fast.
“You kept them?” you whispered.
Bakugou clicked his tongue. “They’re mine, aren’t they? Why would I throw them away?”
“You said they were immature.”
“They are,” he grumbled, grabbing his notebook a little too defensively. “But—” He hesitated, scowl softening. “They… help me focus. Or whatever. So shut up.”
You smiled, heart melting. “So you like them.”
“Don’t push it,” he growled, but he didn’t look away.
Before leaving, you tore a fresh sticky note from your pad. You doodled a tiny Bakugou with little spark explosions around him and stuck it right on the front of his notebook.
This time, he didn’t complain.
He just looked at it… then at you… and muttered,
“…Thanks.”
And when he thought you had left the room, he lifted the sticky note and tucked it carefully with the others.
©rosereveries
bakugou, who’d never admit it—not in a million years.
𖦹 content. k.bakugou x reader. fluff
You’d gotten used to the way Bakugou grumbled whenever you reached for his hair. It always started the same way—a frown, a muttered “Oi, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” and yet, somehow, he never actually stopped you.
He’d just sit there, arms crossed, pretending to be annoyed while you gently combed your fingers through his messy blond strands. The spikes would slowly lose their chaos under your touch, softening into something that felt far too gentle for someone like him.
“You’ve got nice hair, y’know,” you said quietly one afternoon, twisting a small piece between your fingers.
“Tch. Whatever,” he muttered, eyes flicking away.
But his shoulders had relaxed. His jaw wasn’t as tense. And if you looked close enough, you could see the faintest shade of pink creeping up his neck.
You smiled. “You secretly like this, don’t you?”
Bakugou scoffed, too fast, too defensive. “The hell I do.”
And yet, when you stopped, pulling your hands away, he didn’t say anything. Just sat there for a moment, pretending to scroll through his phone before grumbling, low and sharp.
“…Why’d you stop?”
You bit back a grin. “Thought you didn’t like it.”
“I don’t,” he said instantly, then added, quieter, “Just… finish it, dumbass.”
So you did. And if his head tilted just slightly closer to your hands, well—you didn’t mention it. And he’d never admit it.
©rosereveries
bakugou who claims he hates Halloween—but still brings you a pumpkin.
𖦹 content. timeskip. k.bakugou x reader. fluff
You were hanging fake cobwebs by the window when a sharp knock echoed at your door.
“Oi. Open up, dumbass.”
You didn’t even need to look. You knew that voice. And sure enough, Bakugou stood there, hoodie up, the faint smell of smoke and caramel clinging to him. In his hands was a small pumpkin with two uneven eyes and a crooked grin that somehow looked smug.
“You made that?” you asked, trying not to laugh.
He scowled. “Don’t make it sound like it’s a big deal. You said you wanted something festive, so—yeah.”
You took it gently, the little candle inside flickering like it was alive. “Thanks, Katsuki. It’s perfect.”
He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “whatever,” but his ears were pink.
Later, you sat together on the couch, a bowl of candy between you. The pumpkin’s glow made the room feel softer, warmer.
“You’re really not dressing up?” you teased.
“I am dressed up,” he grumbled. “I’m a guy who got dragged into this by his annoying partner.”
You laughed, leaning into him. “Then I’m your costume match, the annoying partner.”
Bakugou rolled his eyes but wrapped an arm around you anyway. “Guess that one’s not so bad.”
Outside, the sound of trick-or-treaters echoed down the street. Inside, you sat there with him, the pumpkin light dancing across his face, and thought that maybe this was the best kind of Halloween—quiet, close, and warm.
And if anyone asked, Bakugou would still say he hated cheesy stuff. But you’d seen the way he smiled when you called it perfect.
©rosereveries
bakugou carried you with him—since middle school.
𖦹 content. timeskip. k.bakugou x fem!reader. fluff
“Hey… what’s this?”
You frowned slightly, holding up a tiny photo you’d found while digging through Bakugou’s wallet for a few coins. The picture was old corners creased, colors a little faded, like it had lived in there for years.
Bakugou stiffened instantly. “Oi, put that down.”
You blinked, tilting your head. “Wait a sec, this is me!”
The photo was unmistakable. You were mid-laugh, hair a mess, wearing your middle school uniform and flashing a peace sign toward whoever held the camera.
“You seriously kept this?” you asked, almost laughing.
“Tch.” He snatched the wallet from your hands and shoved it into his pocket. “Don’t make it weird.”
“Since middle school?” you pressed, grinning a little.
He turned his head away, the tips of his ears burning. “You gave it to me, didn’t you? I just… never got rid of it.”
Your lips curved into a softer smile. “You even folded it so it wouldn’t get torn.”
“Stop looking at me like that,” he muttered, groaning. “You’re being annoying.”
“Maybe,” you teased, stepping closer, “but that’s still really sweet, you know.”
He exhaled sharply, jaw tightening as his eyes darted toward you. “You always make a big deal out of nothing.”
“And yet,” you murmured, “you’ve carried my face around for years.”
He finally looked at you then, expression caught somewhere between irritation and something gentler.
“…Yeah. So what?”
You nudged his arm lightly. “Guess I should feel honored.”
“Don’t.” His voice was gruff, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
“Too late,” you said with a grin.
He rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath—but he didn’t sound annoyed this time.
©rosereveries
bakugou who swears he’s not listening—always turns when you laugh.
𖦹 content. k.bakugou x reader. fluff
It started as a small thing, something no one really noticed at first.
Whenever you laughed, Bakugou’s head would snap toward the sound. Instantly. Instinctively. Like someone had pressed a switch in his brain labeled you.
Didn’t matter if he was in the middle of eating, training, or yelling at Kaminari—his eyes would flick in your direction the second that soft, genuine sound left your lips.
At first, Kirishima thought it was funny.
“Dude,” he whispered one day during lunch, leaning close with that toothy grin of his, “you know your neck’s gonna break one day if you keep doing that.”
Bakugou scowled. “The hell are you talkin’ about?”
Kirishima raised an eyebrow, tilting his chin toward you where you were laughing with Mina across the table. Like clockwork, Bakugou’s head snapped around again.
Kirishima nearly howled.
“See?! Bro, you’re like a dog hearing its owner’s voice—”
“Shut up, shitty hair!” Bakugou barked, ears pink.
“Aw, come on, man! It’s kinda cute!”
Bakugou glared at him, but it didn’t help his case that you laughed again at that exact moment—and his eyes darted over again, completely betraying him.
Kirishima bit back a grin. “You don’t even realize it, huh?”
Bakugou grumbled, “Realize what?”
“That you don’t just turn your head when she laughs,” Kirishima said. “You smile.”
Bakugou clicked his tongue. “Tch. Shut up.”
But when he heard your laugh echo again, soft and bright, his head turned.
And his lips twitched before he could stop them.
©rosereveries