"briefly, you wonder if katsuki's using part of his quirk— if this is what his nitroglycerine feels when it activates: warm in his hands, before it explodes."
— LOVE SHOT | k.bkg
katsuki doesn't believe in love at first sight. falling in love with a fuckin' smile? give him a fuckin' break.
then you come along, with a belt full of knives and a garter full of guns and– well, technically you were smiling when you pulled the trigger.
*heavy sigh* barbarian bkg kidnapping the princess from the neighboring kingdom as a strategic move to lure out your father's knights and slaughter them as revenge for the warrior your people have killed, but it's been two full moons and neither the king nor his knights have come for you
and you... you've been the freest you've ever felt, with no knights guarded by your doors or tutors drilling politics in your head while your father pretends that you, the bastard daughter, has never existed and kept you either busy with extracurriculars or locked in your room so he never has to face you
and bakugou... watching you play wrestle with his tribe's children, pick the loose scales off his dragon's back, read the scrolls to learn his language, chew out the elders when they mentioned your name and the word 'sacrifice' and bakugou's never laughed harder in his life at their stupid dumb founded faces
and that was— that was all you were to him. a sacrifice, he reminds himself. a pig waiting for slaughter while he rethinks his strategies and reorganizes his plan to get revenge at your tyrant of a father who killed his men.
...but later, of course. not now. not when you're dancing around the fire with his people, in his home, singing the songs of his tribe and looking every bit like the woman the oracle described to be his future queen, while his parents share a knowing look
don't get me wrong, i'm deeply in love with the classic barbarian bakugou with a healer lover but i desperately want to write about a gruff and disgruntled healer!bkg who begrudgingly falls in love with warrior!reader
can't get the thought out of my head of pro-hero bkg being on patrol then getting the news that some burgular broke into your shared apartment and he's immediately dropping everything and just fuckin' blasting his way home. his friends thinks it's so sweet that he's in such a rush, frantic, in a panic to get back to you because he's worried about your safety.
but— no, fuck no, he's not worried about keeping you safe, he's worried about keeping the shithead burglar safe from his bored and antsy ex-villain of a wife who's been itching for a fight.
in another angle of this, pro-hero bkg finds out you're being held hostage via a ransom call sent to his work phone from an anonymous number.
"listen to me closely, dynamight, because i'll only say this once," the distorted voice begins, and bakugou leans back in his chair to boredly purse his lips and stare at the wall. "we are villain group Q, and a bomb has been planted at three different locations around your house."
oh. oh, you weren't going to like that. you'd just finished repotting the garden.
"these bombs are set to go off in exactly thirty minutes, and will have a blast radius of five kilometers each."
would you yell at him this idiot actually did dig up the garden? fuck, yeah, you probably would. you put the catnip pot out so mochi could exercise more.
"maybe you're busy looking for a way to recover or disarm these bombs, but don't bother. if they don't detonate automatically, a member of Q will manually flip the switch off site."
speaking of exercise, he's thinking about walking home tonight. maybe pass by that grocery store and buy milk while he's at it.
"furthermore—" furthermore? the fuck? "— we have your wife held hostage--"
"she's there with you, right now?"
"do NOT interrupt me, hero." the Q yells, and bakugou rolls his eyes.
"yeah, yeah, you got my wife and her cat held hostage and there's three bombs around my house. you're gonna ask for— what, money? the fall of heroes? my head? what is it for your case."
"uh," Q guy stutters. "money. one billion yen." he recollects himself. "and if you do not deliver this money in thirty minutes—"
bakugou kisses his teeth. "listen 'ere, dipshit, my shift ends at five o'clock which means in exactly ten minutes i'll be walkin' out that door." he leans back in his chair again, does a little spin to nod at kirishima passing by his office. "so you better tell me right here, right now, if you've got my wife with you or not. i got groceries to run and i ain't getting an earful for buying extra."
the call is blank for a while, until Q guy laughs, maniacally laughs, until all bakugou hears on the other end is an evil chuckle.
"we do, dynamight, we do. it was so easy to get to her, too. who would've thought the number two hero would barely have security around his wife—"
"my security is my wife."
"...what"
"my security. is. my wife." he repeats. "now put 'er on the phone before—"
there's a loud crash on the other end of the line, followed by a series of pained growls and grunts. bakugou huffs out and crosses his arms, patiently waits for you to finish what he assumes is you and mochi tag teaming a guy, based on the hissing and yelling. he hears another a man cry for help before his screams grow quieter, ending with the sound of shattering wood and breaking glass, and bakugou prays to whatever god who's listening that they held you hostage outside.
it's more yells and cries and the sound of mochi hissing and the smoke detector going off later that he hears someone pick up the phone, and your oh so cheery little voice greets him.
"bakugou katsuki," great. the government name. "what did i say about bringing work home with you?!"
"i ain't even home yet, woman!" he grunts, and right on cue the digital clock on his desk flashes 5pm. eight minutes. you were getting slow.
"they got to my petunias, bakugou. you're sleeping on the couch tonight."
bakugou raises a brow. "do we still have a couch?"
"we do, i'm not a monster." you have the gall to sound offended.
"d'you get the bombs?"
"all four of 'em." four. huh. villains lie, who knew. "mochi found two outside. isn't that right, baby? who's a good girl? who's a good little kitty who definitely deserves a treat?"
"no treats, vet said she's getting fat." bakugou hides a smile at the sad little aw you let out, and he waves goodbye to his secretary as he slings his bag over his shoulders. "i'm on the way home. d'you need anything from the store?"
"oh! some almond milk, actually. we're running low." bakugou mentally pats himself on the back for being a good husband. "and some of those spicy gummy bears you like. my treat."
he freezes. "what did you do?"
"nothing."
"what the fuck did you do?"
"i didn't do anything!"
"bakugou y/n," he grits, and he can almost physically hear you ask the gods for strength as you give mochi a little kiss on the forehead.
"your friends... may or may not have gotten glass on the carpet—"
SUMMARY: "you wonder if katsuki's using part of his quirk— if this is what his nitroglycerine feels when it activates: warm in his hands, before it explodes."
alternatively, the weird in between of fuck buddies to lovers.
TAGS & WARNINGS: idiots to lovers, implied sex, both of you are bad at feelings
"do you like me, katsuki?"
katsuki looks good tonight, you think. out in the balcony, bathed in moonlight and the soft glow from the lights of his room. the left side of his hair's bedhead mussed from where he'd slept next to you and he's wearing your hair tie on his wrist, hands nursing the #1 sexiest hero mug you'd gotten him as a gag gift for christmas two years ago that he swore he'd throw away.
he looks good tonight, you think, marked with little pieces of you. he looks like he's yours.
"fuck's that supposed to mean?" he doesn't answer the question, and you bite back a smile at the red tinting his cheeks. you tell yourself it's from the cold.
"c'mon," you nudge him with your shoulder. "do you like me?"
"no, you're annoying."
"oh, fuck you—"
"—again? you're greedy tonight aren't ya."
your cheeks warm. "that's not what i meant and you know it."
his shoulders shrug the slightest, and the teasing smirk he gives you feels far too close to a smile, one that he hides when he takes a sip from his hot chocolate.
"do you like me?" you repeat your question. this time he sighs, like the drama queen he is.
"yes, alright?" katsuki realizes too late that his words are a little too airy, a little too soft to be a snarky reply, so he amends it with "wouldn't let you mark me up if i didn't."
it's then that your eyes drop to the hickeys on his neck, trailing down his bare chest and disappearing into the hem of his sweats. you know you're no better with the finger shaped bruises on your thighs and the bite marks underneath your— his shirt.
you don't know why you like marking each other up so much. maybe it's because you both need to keep your lips preoccupied. katsuki doesn't like kissing, says it's too intimate for a friends with benefits situation. you've slept together, yes, multiple times, but you've never been... intimate, with him.
(that's a lie, your brain supplies. he's held you close late at night, fully clothed and feeling like putty in his arms when you tell him a shitty a joke that has him barking out a laugh, vibrations on his chest reverberating against your cheek; he's taken you out on not-dates, telling you to dress pretty, i'll pick ya up at seven and ended the night not in his bed but on his kitchen counter, with his sleeves rolled up and a cocky grin on his face when your eyes light up after he feeds you a spoonful of the lasagna he's cooking because he decided the restaurant couldn't make good food to save its life. he's the friend you sleep with every now and then, sure... but you haven't been just friends for a while now.)
you hum at his response, and it's followed by a light shake of your head. "i knew you'd say that," you mumble.
"if you knew what i'd say then what was the point of asking?"
you shrug. "wanted to hear it come from you."
he only nods in lieu of a reply, and you silently take the mug when he offers it to you, content when the hot chocolate warms your body before handing it back to him.
it's when he's taking a sip that you decide to ask, "do you love me?" and katsuki nearly spits out his drink. you're laughing and staring at him with amused eyes, and he's trying not to choke with a mutter of what the hell, y/n before he gathers his composure.
then he's tossing your question around his head and he looks at you. really looks at you.
your eyes look pretty tonight, he thinks. bare faced and smelling like his sheets, wearing the first shirt you saw when you opened his closet. he didn't bother telling you it was his favorite, not when you looked at him so sweetly when you asked him if you could borrow it, brain taking one look at you in his clothes and immediately deciding that this version of you is the sexiest and he can't help the way his hands are drawn to your waist, nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck and almost purring when he realizes he can smell his laundry detergent and soap mixed with your scent.
and yeah, your eyes look pretty tonight, he thinks. your eyes look pretty when they're only looking at him.
"no."
"you don't?"
"i don't."
there's a gust of wind that surrounds you, and he pulls you closer when he notices you shiver, mug forgotten on his little table. he's warm— unfairly so— when he brings his arms on either side your body, trapping you between the metal railing and his chest. when you risk a glance at him, red eyes are staring into yours, and your heart just about stops, all the air knocked from your lungs from the way he looks at you.
and then you compose yourself, lips curling into what you hoped was a teasing smile.
"liar."
"m'not lying,"
"you sure?"
"if you knew what i'd say then what was the point of asking?" he repeats his question from earlier. so you shrug, turning away from him and his intense gaze as you murmur, "wanted to hear it come from you."
there's a beat that passes, and katsuki's body is still behind you. you could almost hear the conflict in his head, his internal debate. one side wins over the other, you think, because your heart nearly jump out of your chest when the arms that were once beside your body suddenly find their way around your waist, and he rests his chin on your shoulder with a sigh.
"maybe if you ask properly," he finally responds, his warm hands finding your cold ones. you hope he doesn't notice the way your pulse speeds up at his touch.
"okay," you murmur, suddenly aware of just how close katsuki really is. you'd been close to him before, underneath his sheets. but it was never... intimate, like this. his face was never pressed into your neck, like this. his hands were never holding yours, like this.
and there's— there's a warmth in your chest, one you tell yourself is there because of how close he is. katsuki feels so warm pressed up against you and you're dizzy from the way his smell fills your senses, could feel his heart beat from where it's pressed against your back. you wonder if katsuki could feel yours, too; your heart, the way it's beating so fast you're sure it's going to explode. briefly, you wonder if katsuki's using part of his quirk— if this is what his nitroglycerine feels when it activates: warm in his hands, before it explodes.
"bakugou katsuki," you announce teasingly, biting back a smile when you feel him scoff. "do you love me?"
it was meant to be a joke, at first. asking him. like asking him stupid stuff like would you love me if i was a worm? but now that it's out there— properly, like he'd said— it feels a little too real, a little too soon. cheeks feeling a little too warm for the cold air of the night, gaze a little too warm to be just a friend.
you aren't sure if you'd be heartbroken or relieved if katsuki said no— properly, like he'd said. you could laugh it off, write it off like the joke it was meant to be and you could go back to being... whatever the hell it is you two are. maybe this time you bit off more than you could chew, maybe you should've backed off when you still could and take back your question, crawl back into his bed before you actually do feel what his nitroglycerine does before it happens: warm in his hands, before it explodes in your face.
but you've never been good at knowing what's bad for you.
"well?" you murmur at his silence, "do you?"
"you want the good answer or the real answer?" his question makes your heart drop. it's a cold douse of water to your face, and suddenly you can feel the chilly air again, hands too cold for your own good. it's nitroglycerine, exploding in your face.
"well?" he murmurs when your reply takes too long for his liking. then he's leaning in, somehow making the already small space between you even smaller, and his eyes glance down to your lips. your heart begins to race again.
maybe it's the way he's looking at you that makes you feel brave, brave enough to glance at his lips, too, before you murmur, "the real answer."
your heart's in your throat and his heart's on his sleeve, but katsuki doesn't reply. instead, his hand's on your cheek and your eyes are fluttering shut, lips tingling at the sear of his kiss. only this time, it's katsuki who feels it— what nitroglycerine feels like: warm in your touch, explosions on his lips.
hey can we spread some love across the dashboard tonight ... rb and say in the tags why you initially followed + why you stayed for the person you rbed from !
