You had always been chubby. Not obese, just soft around the edges, curvy in ways fashion magazines never celebrated. College photography classes made it worse—every model assignment featured girls with impossible measurements, all sharp angles and flat stomachs. Sometimes you wondered if bodies like yours even existed in the professional world.

That's why you asked Katsuki to help with your autumn project. You'd been friends for years, close enough that he couldn't say no even when he grumbled about it. He'd never admit how easily you got him to agree to things.

The park glowed amber in the late afternoon sun. Leaves drifted lazily through golden light, perfect for the aesthetic you wanted. You adjusted your camera settings and gestured toward a tree.

"Okay, lean against it. Casual, but like... thoughtful. Look over your shoulder."

Katsuki tried. He really did. But he stood stiff as a board, shoulder jammed awkwardly against the bark, neck craned at an angle that looked painful.

You stifled a laugh. "No, not like that. More relaxed."

He shifted. Somehow looked worse.

You sighed and walked over, handing him the camera. "Here, let me just show you."

You positioned yourself where he'd been standing, the sun warming your back through your oversized sweater. The scarf around your neck caught the breeze. You glanced over your shoulder the way you'd envisioned, showing him the exact pose—natural, effortless, like someone lost in thought during an autumn walk. Your skirt swayed slightly, the sheer black leggings underneath catching the golden light.

The shutter clicked. Then clicked again. "Looking good," Katsuki muttered, camera still raised.

You turned fully, rolling your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, right. Stop goofing around and pay attention to the—"

"I am paying attention."

Something in his voice made you pause. He wasn't smirking or teasing. His red eyes stayed fixed on you through the viewfinder, serious in a way that made your stomach flip.

Another click.

"Katsuki, I'm serious. I need you to actually—"

"You think I'm joking?" He lowered the camera slightly, just enough to meet your gaze directly. "You've been bitching about skinny models all semester. Going on about how you don't fit or whatever."

Heat crept up your neck. You hadn't realized he'd been listening that closely.

"Then you get in front of the camera and look like that." He gestured vaguely at you, jaw tight. "So yeah, I'm taking pictures. Got a problem with it?"

Your heart hammered against your ribs. The wind picked up, sending leaves spiraling around you both, and suddenly the golden hour felt too warm.

"You're supposed to be the model," you managed weakly.

"Then you're shit at picking models." He raised the camera again. "Turn around. Do that pose again."

"Katsuki—"

"Do it."

You did, mostly because your brain short-circuited. The shutter clicked repeatedly as you stood there, hyper-aware of every curve, every soft part of yourself you usually tried to hide under loose clothing.

"See?" His voice came closer. He'd moved without you noticing, now just a few feet away. "That's what a real model looks like. Not those walking skeletons you keep staring at."

You turned to face him, throat tight. "You don't have to—"

"I don't do things I don't mean." He lowered the camera, expression fierce. "You're so busy looking at everyone else, you don't even notice when someone's looking at you."

The confession hung between you in the autumn air. Leaves continued their lazy dance, the sun dipped lower, and Katsuki Bakugo stood there holding your camera like it proved something.

Maybe it did.

"The lighting's perfect right now," he said roughly. "You gonna waste it being insecure, or you gonna let me take pictures of the prettiest damn subject in this park?"

Your face burned. But you turned around anyway, glancing over your shoulder with a small, genuine smile this time.

The shutter clicked, and something shifted between you both—captured forever in golden hour light.