thinking about bakugo cooking for me when I'm feeling down or out of it. watching him offer a lil bit of domestic bliss as he stands in the kitchen over a hot stove, food sizzling in one the pans he's using as the rhythmic sound of him chopping vegetables on a cutting board fills the room.
thinking about just walking up behind him and wrapping my arms around his waist, feeling his muscles relax as he realizes it's only me. he'd send me a cheeky lil smile over his shoulder and, after attempting and failing at looking over his shoulder to see just what he's cooking (cos of course he's taller than me), I settle on just taking in the aroma of his homemade meal.











