You were always a reader. Had been since childhood, would be until death. Books were your escape, your comfort, your entire world.

Katsuki Bakugo, your older brother's best friend and the most insufferable human alive, never let you forget it. Nerd. Bookworm. Four-eyes. Every visit to your house came with commentary. You shot back just as hard—calling him meathead, explosion boy, anger issues incarnate. It wasn't real hatred, just this constant back-and-forth that had defined your entire lives. He annoyed you. You annoyed him. That was the dynamic.

Lunch period at UA was your sacred reading time. Your brother and his friends took up half the table, loud and obnoxious as always, but you tuned them out. The book in your hands was way more interesting than whatever they were arguing about.

Then Katsuki walked in. Late, as usual, his bag slung over one shoulder like he owned the place.

You didn't even look up. You knew his routine by now—he'd grab food, sit down, and immediately start talking trash. Predictable.

What you didn't predict was his hand shooting out and snatching your book mid-sentence.

"Hey!" You lunged for it, but he held it high above your head, that infuriating smirk plastered across his face.

"Still reading this crap, bookworm?"

"Give it back, Bakugo!"

"What's the matter? Afraid I'll spoil the ending?"

You stood up, reaching desperately, but he was taller and knew it. Your brother and his friends watched with barely concealed amusement, the traitors.

"Do not under any circumstances read it! Give it back!"

His smirk widened. "Oh, so you don't want me to read it?"

No. No, no, no—

He flipped it open randomly and started reading aloud. "Yes, just like that—put your hands on the headboard—"

The table went silent.

Katsuki's eyes widened as he scanned further. His jaw actually dropped. "WHAT THE HELL AM I READING?"

Your face burned hotter than his explosions. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole. Your brother looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. Denki was wheezing with laughter. Kirishima covered his mouth, shoulders shaking.

"It's—it's not—" you stammered, snatching the book back finally, clutching it to your chest like a shield.

"That was corn!" Katsuki's face was red now too, but from shock rather than embarrassment. "You were just casually reading porn at the lunch table!"

"It's a romance novel with mature themes, you uncultured barbarian! And I was reading it peacefully until someone decided to be a thief!" You shoved the book into your bag, cheeks still flaming. "Maybe next time you'll listen when I tell you to leave something alone!"

"Mature themes?! That dude was literally—"

"SHUT UP!" You slapped your hand over his mouth, looking around frantically. Half the cafeteria was staring now. Perfect. Just perfect.

Katsuki peeled your hand away, still looking stunned. "Does your brother know you've been reading this stuff?"

"I'm sitting right here," your brother groaned, head in his hands. "And no, I didn't know. I didn't want to know."

You grabbed your bag and stood up, dignity in tatters. "You're all children. It's called fiction. Literature. Art."

"It's called smut," Katsuki corrected, but something in his expression had shifted. Less mocking, more... curious? Intrigued?

You hated that look.

You refused to make eye contact with anyone, especially him. This was officially the most mortifying moment of your entire life. But you caught the smirk tugging at his lips before you looked away, and something about it felt different this time. Less mocking, more… something else you could not quite name.

"Didn't know my little bookworm had that kind of taste."