CW: NSFW, violence, drug use/abuse/addiction, alcohol use/abuse/addiction, strong language, character death.
Starting point
Read on AO3
Or read below the cut
I sigh. No, I don’t think we should do it.
“How about we just get wasted instead?” I smile at him, placing my hand over his in an attempt to placate him. “I feel like drinking a lot today.”
“Sure!” He says, getting up to order us some more drinks.
He comes back with shots of tequila, which we quickly chug, and before I know it, he’s going to the counter to order some more.
My head’s already feeling a little fuzzy, but I feel much better, honestly. I can’t stop the smile from spreading on my face as I wait for him to come back.
Denki’s back with more drinks but honestly I feel like I need to move.
Should we dance or should we hit the road?
Go to chapter 47 if you decide to dance (coming soon)
Go to chapter 48 if you leave the bar (coming soon)
CW: NSFW, violence, drug use/abuse/addiction, alcohol use/abuse/addiction, strong language, character death.
Starting point
Read on AO3
Or read below the cut
I close my eyes, and I suddenly feel like Denki’s right – what’s the worst that can happen? The worst is rejection, and it’s not like I’ve never been rejected before. Granted, it’s never been by someone quite so handsome, but… It can’t be worse than never knowing because I was too scared to try.
“Alright.” I whisper.
“Yeah!” Denki cheers, raising his arms above his head. “You can do it! Ask him out on a date!”
“Don’t push your luck.” I chuckle. I get up, looking towards the counter and spotting him again. Still there, and still very much alone. Or at least that’s what it looks like.
I walk towards him and take a seat next to him, asking the bartender for a drink. I don’t look his way just in case, but that also means that I don’t know if he was checking me out.
After a sip of my beverage I turn my body towards him, shooting him a smile when he finally glances my way.
“The music’s great!” I remark, watching how his eyebrow twitches slightly as he looks me over. “Wanna go dance?”
“The music’s shit.” He snorts back, shaking his head before looking back at the counter.
“Alright.” I hum, forcing myself to not feel discouraged by his reaction. “What kinda music do you like?”
He turns to me yet again, an amused smile on his face. Maybe he wasn’t expecting me to be so persistent. I think he likes that I am, or at least that’s what it looks like by the interested smirk he’s sporting.
“Definitely not this crap.” He replies, his gruff voice sending shivers down my spine for some unknown reason. He leans back in his chair, showing me a confident attitude.
“Then why are you here?” I ask, more to get to know him than to keep the conversation going.
“Isn’t it obvious, Shitty Hair?” He tilts his head when his eyes land on the little frown I make at his words. “Cause I’m looking for a good night out.”
“Just a good night out… you’re not looking for anything serious?”
“None of your business.” He mutters solemnly. His eyes shine as he says it, but there’s no bite in his tone.
“Well, I guess you’re right.” I whisper, looking away.
“And it’s not like you can find a life partner here.” he surprises me by saying. I thought he’d lost interest already and didn't want to continue talking to me.
“Why not?” I reply, more than eager to keep him speaking as much as possible.
“Because, Shitty Hair,” he whispers as he leans in, a predatory smirk on his face, “no one here is looking for that. They just want sex.”
“Maybe I’m looking for that, a life partner, a boyfriend or whatever.” I remark, seemingly nonchalant as I pull back, avoiding his gaze at first and then glancing at him flirtily.
“Well you’d be the only one.” He keeps his eyes on me, the amused look on his face still there as he tries to figure out if I’m lying to him or not.
I shrug, as if I don’t care. He hums in response, turning towards his drink and taking a big sip before he locks eyes with me again.
“Is that really why you’re here?” He asks, and it gets my hopes up that he’s finally taken an interest in me and is asking me questions.
“Maybe,” I shrug my shoulders, playing at being mysterious. I think it works because he shoots me another smirk.
“Is that why you’re talking to me?” He asks, his eyes narrowing as he tilts his head, a cocky smile spreading on his face.
“Well, that would be a waste of time, wouldn’t it?” I tease playfully, crossing my legs in an attempt to capture his interest further. “Since you said you’re not interested. I wouldn’t bother.”
“I mean, I’m not against it.” He shrugs. “But you’d probably back down before me.”
“Why would I?”
He shrugs again, his hand going to the counter to pick his drink up, but he doesn’t glance away from my face the whole time. He takes a sip, as if he were considering what he’s about to say. He ends up not saying anything else though.
“Dude, I’m manly.” I proudly almost shout.
“I never said you weren’t.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“That you’d get tired of me, of my brass attitude. They always do. That’s why I stopped caring and stopped trying to go on dates. I just go for the easy way out, the sex.”
“Well, I’m different.”
“Suuuure you are.” he mutters sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “That’s why you tried picking me up.”
“I can prove that I am.”
“Yeah, well maybe I don’t want you to prove anything.”
“Whatcha mean?”
“I mean I don’t care, Shitty Hair. I’m not interested in dating.”
"I can prove you wrong. I want to. Let me."
"And what would you do?" He scoffs. "Take me out on a date?”
“Yeah, if you’ll let me.”
He leans back, considering my offer.
“Where would you take me?” He asks, cheekily. His eyes seem to sparkle as he talks, and it makes my heart beat faster. I love the little smirk on his face, it’s making me feel things. He’s special alright. “Hypothetically speaking. If you were to take me on a date.”
“Wait, is this a trick question?” I ask him, trying to gain time. I don’t want to fuck it up. “Like, do I get to ask you things to get to know you before inviting you someplace?”
“Nah, that’s cheating. Try picking me up. I wanna see what you’ve got.”
“That’s so hard, dude!” I laugh, but it pumps me up. “But I like it. It’s like a challenge.”
“So, where’d you take me?”
“Okay, so, based on what you seem to like… which is… not this music. And you didn’t reply to my invitation to dance, so you’re probably not into that either. Hmmm. I’m going to go with my gut on this one. You probably don’t like crowds, so maybe… we could have a few drinks, somewhere more private?”
“Is that an invitation to your house?” He laughs, his eyes crinkling cutely as he lets out a guffaw. “I thought you said you didn’t want to take me to bed.”
“I mean, that’s not off the table.” I whisper sheepishly, to which he replies with an eye roll, but he has an amused smirk spread on his face, so I know it’s alright.
“So you proved me right. Everyone here just wants to fuck.”
“Hey, wanna go out for drinks? Someplace else. No music, or at least not this music. You can pick the place.” I go for it, drinking in his surprised reaction.
“I can, eh?” He whispers, smirking at me. His eyes shine as he pretends to think over my invitation.
Before I can nod in response, he gets up from his chair.
“Alright, Shitty Hair. Prove to me that you’re more than just a quick fuck. I know a place.”
“Sure.” I nod my head vigorously as I get up, but I pout as I notice something. He stops when he sees my face, and he frowns, seemingly worried. “But, hey… could you stop calling me Shitty Hair, please?”
“You never gave me your name, dumbass.” He snorts. “What was I supposed to call you?”
“It’s Kirishima. I’m Kirishima Eijirou.”
“Hmm, nice name. I’m Bakugou. Bakugou Katsuki.”
“That’s a manly name.” I whisper, hoping my voice doesn’t betray the little beat my heart skipped when I heard it.
He scoffs at my reaction, rolling his eyes yet again.
“C’mon, get your arse moving.” He mutters, trying to sound like he’s tough or something. I find it adorable.
I nod and follow him as he leads the way. As we exit the bar I grab my phone and text Denki that I’ve got a sort of date.
Bakugou looks at me when I lag behind him and he tells me to hurry up, a small scowl on his face as he urges me to speed it up.
Putting my phone back in my pocket I skip along to where he is and I grab his hand, confident.
He stares at me, and then down at our intertwined hands, but he doesn’t say anything about it.
The bar he takes me to is fancier than I imagined it would be. I’m heavily underdressed for it, but he isn’t. He looks so good in his casual clothes; and unlike me, he doesn’t stand out here.
I let go of his hand before we enter and he turns to look at me, his eyes narrowed.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” He snarls at me.
“I’m… well, I don’t know if it’s okay for us to hold hands in this place.”
“And why the fuck not? Look at that couple over there.” He points at a man and a woman, heavily flirting in the table by the window.
“Yeah, but we’re both men.” I whisper, avoiding his piercing gaze.
“So fucking what?”
“Not everyone thinks it’s okay to be gay.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck what other people think of me.” He sneers, pulling away from me. When I look into his eyes there’s a burning passion in them, like there’s more he wants to say. “And you shouldn’t either.”
“I know, but, like, it’s hard-”
“I don’t care. Life’s hard.” He cuts me off. “Deal with it. Don’t stop being yourself just because other people frown on it. Do you think that’s stopped me from being who I am?”
“I… don’t know. I don’t know you.”
“Fuck if it has. Of course it fucking hasn’t. And if you want a shot at being with me, it better not stop you from being you.”
The way he says it makes me look him in the eyes with a scowl. I clench my teeth as I pick his hand up and give it a squeeze. I’m going to show him exactly who I am and I’m not going to back down until he’s fallen in love with me, and even after that I’ll keep proving to him who I am every single day.
He smiles proudly at me, firmly gripping my hand as he turns and opens the glass door to the bar, walking us in.
An elegant woman welcomes us in. She’s extremely tall, with beautiful long black hair, tied away from her face in a pretty ponytail. She glances at our entwined hands before shooting us a reassuring smile. It’s more of a compassionate look, like she understands what we’re going through.
“We want a private room.” Bakugou says, tugging at my arm so I stand right beside him. I stand straight so he knows I’m proud of being next to him. “Do you have any available right now?”
“We do.” She replies politely. She outstretches her hands – which had previously been lying flat against her legs – in the direction of the private rooms. “Right this way.”
I walk briskly beside Bakugou, hoping to prove to him that he doesn’t have to pull me along. He shoots me another proud smirk.
She opens the door for us to see the room.
“Does this one please you?”
“Yeah. We’ll have a bottle of whisky with two glasses, with ice.”
“Of course.” She excuses herself with a low bow and we make our way to the table in the room. It’s spacious – far too big for only two people – but it’s still a nice place.
“Hey, gimme your things, I’ll hang them up.” He says, grabbing my jacket when I hand it to him.
“Thanks.” I whisper, as if I’m in a trance. I seat myself in the comfortable chair and wait for him to sit in front of me. “I didn’t know you like all these fancy things.”
“I don’t. But it’s the only place I know that has private rooms. Plus, I know the owner.”
“The pretty woman?” I ask, incredulous. It hadn’t seemed as if they knew each other. Maybe she was just being professional.
“No, not Momo. I mean, she’s an acquaintance, but I wasn’t speaking about her. Todoroki owns this place. Well, his father does. Rick fucker that has everything he wants, so he owns a lot of fancy places like this. This one’s the only one the son’s in charge of.”
“How’d you know Todoroki?”
“Mmm. He’s a friend of a childhood… of someone I know. Well, it’s more like he has a crush on him.”
“Todoroki?”
“Nah, he’s different. I don’t think he’s capable of crushes. And he’s oblivious as fuck. That stupid nerd’s obviously been in love with him for years and he has no idea.”
“Who is… your childhood friend?”
“Not a friend.” Bakugou snorts, avoiding my gaze. “Well, he’s not that bad I guess.”
“I’m kinda confused.” I say, shaking my head.
Just at that moment, there’s a knock on the door, and Momo’s voice rings from the other side.
“May I come in?”
“Sure.” Bakugou calls out, turning his head towards her.
She opens the door and enters with a tray, a bottle and two glasses on it. She drops them off at our table and looks at the blond man in front of me.
“I told Shouto you were here. He’ll come and greet you properly in a few minutes. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Ugh,” Bakugou sighs, sounding exasperated. He closes his eyes and clenches his teeth, “fine.”
“Then I’ll let you enjoy your private room.” She bows again before closing the door behind her.
“Don’t let her demeanour fool you. She’s smart, but pretends to be ‘nice’ and instead just causes chaos.”
“Wouldn’t it be the correct thing to do, though? Telling your friend that you’re here.”
“We’re not friends.” He remarks, his tone of voice giving no option for rebuttal.
I give him a look and he throws his head back, letting out an exasperated whine. “Okay, fine. She’s decent. But Todoroki fucking ain’t. You’ll see when he comes over, which will probably be soon, knowing him.”
The door opens and a man steps in, an indifferent look on his otherwise pretty face.
“Riiiight on time.” Bakugou mutters, turning his head away from him.
“Katsuki, nice to see you.” The man greets him, walking towards us. He looks at me, and I can see his eyes are different colours, like his hair. “And who is your companion today?”
“I’m Eijirou Kirishima!” I smile at him, to which he nods his head in acknowledgement.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Shouto Todoroki, a friend of Katsuki’s.”
“What do you want?” Bakugou almost growls, turning to glare at him.
“I just wanted to welcome you. It’s been a while since you’ve last been here.”
“Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“I do. I’m a very busy man. But it’s common etiquette. Is this your partner? Izuku will be very happy to hear. He’s worried about you.”
“Fuck!” Bakugou snarls. “Don’t fucking tell him anything. He’s not worried, he’s just nosey.”
Todoroki sighs, rolling his eyes before turning to look at me. “I don’t know what you see in him.”
I laugh, which only makes Bakugou growl even louder.
“Just fuck off already. What I do isn’t your business – or his.”
“Alright, I’ll leave. I hope you have a pleasant evening. Drink as much as you want, it’s on me.” He says, giving a courteous wave before leaving the room.
“That fucker!” Bakugou growls, going for the unopened bottle and filling both our glasses. He thrusts mine towards me and chugs quite a lot of his down. “Just because he’s rich doesn’t mean he has to flounce his money around. It’s all his father’s anyway. And that Momo woman is the same. Well, used to be. She got disowned when her family found out she ran off with a girl. That’s why she’s working here. They’re childhood friends – because of the money thing, obviously – and he’s just doing her a favour.”
“I see.” I whisper. “I thought those two might have been… a thing. They look good together.”
“Todoroki doesn’t have a heart, so no, they don’t.”
“Are you just saying that because you’re hurt? Because that Izuku guy loves him and he doesn’t feel the same way?”
Bakugou stops what he’s doing and stares at me, his eyes narrowing.
“No.” He bites back, but doesn’t say much else.
“You don’t hate them.” I remark, smiling at him.
He pauses, but he sighs and avoids my gaze. “No, I don’t. They’re bearable.”
“So tell me more about them, or about you.”
He scrutinises me with a glare, but sighs. “I guess it’s fair. But only if you tell me about yourself, too.”
“We have all night.” I smile at him, and he scowls back.
“So Izuku and I grew up together, basically. We were neighbours, and our mothers were friends. We went to the same school and all that. But he used to stick around me. At first I kinda liked it, y’know? I had a few boys following me around, and it got to my head. I was an arsehole.” He pauses, his eyes darting away from my gaze. He stares at the drink in his hands, and he gives it a swirl. The room is so silent I can hear the ice clanking against the glass. “I… I want you to know I’m not proud of this, and that I’m a different person now. I bullied him. For years as well. It made me feel so powerful when I took advantage of him. He trusted me and I betrayed not only his trust, but whatever. I know I fucked up. I realised later, when I was older, and I apologised to him. I have since made amends with Izuku – although I still call him Deku. He kinda embraced that nickname thanks to Ochako.”
“Why Deku? What?”
“I used to call him Deku, when I mocked him. But it’s okay, he’s over it, so I can use it without offending him.”
“Who’s Ochako? An old girlfriend?”
Bakugou snorts, shaking his head. “She wishes! Nah, just another one of Deku’s friends. He surprisingly knows a lot of people.”
There’s a silence in which I just sip my drink. I honestly don’t know what to say or think.
“Thanks for not judging me.” He whispers, his eyes on his hands.
“Well, we’ve all got pasts we’re ashamed of.” I mutter, turning my gaze away.
“So, what’s yours?” He asks, his voice low. “What are you ashamed of?”
I don’t say anything. Instead, I duck my head slightly.
“It can’t be worse than what I did, Kirishima. Just spit it out.”
“It’s… some dark stuff. I was a pretty insecure kid.” I raise my head and our eyes connect.
“You seem pretty confident now.” Bakugou whispers, his hand finally releasing the glass and going over to hold mine. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. Some stuff is just difficult to talk about. I just want you to know that I’m glad you’re much more confident now.”
“I… I used to have depression. I used to cut myself, and did other stuff I'm not proud of. Got stupidly drunk as a kid and did stupid things just because I felt like shit.” I bite my lip and avoid his gaze. “I’m better now. I’m a different person.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re over it and I hope you learnt from it and grew as a person.”
“Thanks, Bakugou.” I smile back at him. “Sometimes I feel insecure, but I try to remember my purpose in life.”
“Your purpose in life? What’s your purpose in life?”
“To be happy! And to make others happy too!” I grin at him. His eyebrows raise slightly, but he eventually returns my smirk.
“I’m so glad I got to know you today.” He says softly. “You were right. You really are different.”
“I told ya!”
“I wouldn’t mind doing this again.” He whispers and our eyes connect once more.
He gives my hand a squeeze and I lean in. Our faces are close together, but there’s a table in the way.
I’ve never wanted to kiss someone so badly in my life.
“Can I kiss you?” I ask, my voice low.
“Oh, c’mon! After I just said you weren’t like the others?” He jokes, laughing. He quickly goes back to looking serious. “I’d love to kiss you, honestly.”
He gets up and walks over to my side of the table, his pretty red eyes on me all the time. He leans in and I raise my head up, and slowly, our mouths connect. His lips are soft as they brush against mine, and I feel my heart beating fast.
We part and he looks at me, something in his gaze that I can’t recognise. I get up, my hands raising to cup his face before going in for another kiss. He meets me halfway, his lips parted and eager, and my tongue slips in effortlessly.
This kiss is longer but slower, more passionate. There’s an urgency behind it, but I don’t let him move any faster – I want us to savour the moment.
He pulls away from me, and he looks at the table with the almost full bottle of whiskey.
“I should go home. It’s getting late and I’m kinda tired. Had a bad day at work.”
“Oh! I still don’t know what you do.” I say.
“Well, that’s a question for next time.” He chuckles, leaning into me and burying his head into my neck, giving my earlobe a small nibble.
“Yeah… sure…” I whisper, breathless.
“I… I think we should head to our respective homes. If not, we’re gonna end up fucking right in this room, and I don’t wanna give that half and half bastard the satisfaction of knowing what we did. Although the idea of destroying this place makes me want to do it… maybe someday.”
“Bakugou…” I whisper, my breath hitching in my throat as he traces a finger over my neck.
“Yeah, I know.” He pulls back, panting. “Let’s… another day. I think you’re special and I don’t want to make this day about just sex.”
“I understand.” I whisper, my heart hammering in my chest. I feel all fuzzy and warm all over, and I don’t think it’s just the alcohol’s fault.
I pause. Should I ask for his number or should we just meet up another day?
Go to chapter 72 if you ask for his number (coming soon)
Go to chapter 73 if you ask him out on another date (coming soon)
At Last, a Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia One Shot.
I know it's really, really late but here's my contribution to the @bakugourarepairzine! It was a blast to write this so I hope you enjoy it!
Summary: The almost lazy strums of the bass reach Katsuki’s ears just as he turns the key and opens the door to his house.
She’s there, bass in hand, standing right next to a pile of music sheets, most of them thrown haphazardly all over the floor. Her brow is furrowed, just like how it gets when she’s deep in thought.
Katsuki approaches her, but even when he’s standing in front of her, she doesn’t glance at him. He almost doesn’t reach his hand out to gently cup her face, but he’s glad he did when she lets out a soft sigh.
“You should relax.”
The almost lazy strums of the bass reach Katsuki’s ears just as he turns the key and opens the door to his house. Well, their house. Although he’s still getting used to living with her.
He hesitates at the entrance for a few seconds before finally taking his shoes off and walking into their living room.
She’s there, bass in hand, standing right next to a pile of music sheets, most of them thrown haphazardly all over the floor. Her brow is furrowed, just like how it gets when she’s deep in thought.
“The charity event?” He simply asks, letting the keys fall onto the little bowl that resides in the hall. The slight jingle they produce when they hit the ceramic surface pleases him.
“Uh-huh,” she replies, not looking at him.
“You could just use one of the other fifteen hundred songs you’ve already composed, you know? You don’t have to write another just for this.”
“I want to.” Kyouka finally seems to snap out of it as she tilts her head and directs her intense gaze towards him. “It’s not the same if I don’t.”
Of course it isn’t, and he kind of understands it.
Katsuki approaches her, but even when he’s standing in front of her, she doesn’t glance at him. He almost doesn’t reach his hand out to gently cup her face, but he’s glad he did when she lets out a soft sigh.
“You should relax.”
“The event’s in a week,” she replies, clicking her tongue. She frowns slightly when she hits a note wrong, unhappy with her work, “so please stop, you’re distracting me.”
He’s not good with words, especially not the ones he knows should be loving or nice. He doesn’t know how to tell her he’s worried about her, so instead, he lets his hands do the talking.
His fingers brush her neck lightly, and she shivers, her eyes flicking up to meet his. She seems angry, but she doesn’t shy away from his touch.
He tries to lean in and take her lips into a deep kiss but Kyouka moves away from him and he’s met with air instead.
“I said stop,” she whispers, glancing at him warningly.
Sighing, he drops to his knees, still looking into her eyes deeply. Her gaze is fixed on his, too. She seems mildly intrigued, like he’s letting him get on with it just out of curiosity; like she wants to know what he’ll do next.
His hands ghost over her thighs, but she doesn’t react at all. He fights the smile that’s dying to form and gropes the back of her legs instead.
That’s when he hears her breath hitch in her throat, and he finally lets the smirk spread on his face.
When he digs his nails into her tender flesh and drags them down, she plays a note on the bass guitar; but it sounds wrong, telling him he’s successful in his mission to distract her.
He uncurls his fingers and softly touches her skin, lovingly going over the red marks he’s left over her calves.
She shivers, and that only encourages him to grope further up. He digs his thumbs into the inside of her soft skin, dragging them slowly upwards, hoping to elicit more sweet-sounding noises from her.
Kyouka almost complies, but instead, she takes a step forward, and he has to throw himself back so as to not get hit by her bass.
“Stop messing around. I’m busy,” she remarks, turning slightly to the left and giving him a different view from his new position on the floor.
But Katsuki knows it’s just an act. He can tell by the small smile she sent his way just before forcing him back. She just wants him to play along, make it fun.
He repositions himself, dragging his body on hands and knees until he’s behind her. He doesn’t waste his time and bites her right calf a bit harder than he normally would, which makes her click her tongue and hastily swat at him.
“Playing hard to get won’t get you anywhere,” he whispers, grabbing her waist and steadying her. “But I do kinda like it, though.”
“I know you do.”
His hands go back to her leg, a thumb wiping off the saliva he left on the newly formed red patch on her skin. He doesn’t take long to let his hands touch higher up, and he almost gasps when his fingers ghost over her private parts—only to notice she’s not wearing underwear.
He’s not surprised—she’s not locked in her room. She wants to practice playing, but she wants him more. If it were the other way around, if she were actually worried about this charity event more than she’s horny, he wouldn’t have seen her in the living room, and they both know that.
And the best thing is, she’s wet.
He feels extremely excited. How sweet the sound of his fingers playing with her lips is, and only because she’s so absolutely drenched in that delicious nectar. He wants to suck on it until she screams, and hopefully he will.
Katsuki doesn’t know when she put the bass aside, but suddenly she’s turning around—now sans her instrument—and grabbing his hair, hard.
“Fucking do me,” she growls, her voice low and animalistic, much like his, “now.”
There’s an urgency in her tone that makes his jaw drop, and his trousers tighten. What has she been doing to be so worked up just because he played with her legs a little? Was this just a ploy to have him ravish her until tomorrow?
Not like he cares, though; so he discards all thoughts and stands up in search of her mouth. Luckily for him, Kyouka meets him halfway.
He sticks two fingers inside her, mainly to test the waters, and just with that, she’s almost quivering already, her legs shaking.
She practically howls when he digs them deeper into her, and he’s mesmerised by her sweet face contorting in pleasure.
Katsuki has Kyouka pushed against the table, and lifted on top of it seconds later. The surface is cold and hard, but his hands on her hips, and his crotch against hers makes her forget where she is. All she can do is concentrate on him, on his wet kisses and his low, needy growls.
She throws her head back to allow him access to her neck, not caring how hard she hits the table.
“You okay?” He mutters, barely lifting his face from her skin to look at her.
She answers with a noncommittal grunt, her hands going up to tug him down again, to which he responds by gently nipping at the flesh right under her ears. He darts his tongue out and tries to use it to fish her ear jack into his mouth.
“Stoooop!” She whispers, her pitch high as she moves her head away, embarrassed.
He scoffs at her response, but lets her go, straightening himself up. He purposely shoves their crotches together one last time, making Kyouka gasp. Her reaction makes his eyes sparkle, a thing that doesn’t go unnoticed by her.
“I wanna fuck you. Right here, right now.” Katsuki says, his voice gruff.
“You could’ve started five minutes ago,” she replies, shrugging her shoulders in a bad attempt at trying to play it cool. Her flushed cheeks and erratic breathing give her away.
He’s dying to be inside of her, so when she lifts her legs up and places one on each shoulder, all he does is unzip his trousers while his other hand grabs the condom he snuck into his pocket just before getting home. Protection is important after all.
In just a few seconds, the wrapper is off and tossed away—landing on the floor somewhere—and he slides the rubber on effortlessly. Katsuki lowers himself until he’s hovering over her, but he pauses to stare at her, to admire how beautiful she is.
He knows just how insecure Kyouka is, how she’s always felt. But she’s the most precious thing in his life, and he’s not shy to show her every day. So, he reaches down and starts kissing her, slowly at first. He doesn’t dip his tongue in, he just lets their lips mesh together, melting his problems away.
He feels her toe brush against his ear, as she tries to nudge his body forward so it slides in perfectly. A short chuckle is caught in his throat, and he indulges her, thrusting into her deeply.
Grinding his hips, he grabs her by the waist, lifting her body up from the tabletop slightly. He thrusts hard into her while they stare lovingly at each other. She brushes her fingers over his cheeks, biting her lip and moaning every time he aims his dick just right, and when he does, Kyouka whispers his name incessantly, throwing her head back.
He loves it, loves her. Biting his lip and dragging his nails against her skin, he lets his passion consume him. The table bangs over and over against the wall with every one of his thrusts, but it doesn’t break neither of their spells.
Until a sudden knock on the door does.
“Kyou? Kat?” Eijirou’s loud voice booms from outside. “Did you forget I was supposed to go with you to the restaurant?”
They both pause, glancing at each other for a second before turning their heads towards the door.
“Fuck!” Katsuki mutters under his breath. He clenches his teeth and his eyes fall on Kyouka’s, seeing panic flash in them for a second.
“I forgot that was today,” she breathes, her voice merely a whisper.
“Should we ignore it? Maybe he’ll get bored and go away?”
She hesitates, her eyes roaming his face. She finally sighs, pushing him away to get up. “No, we should go.”
He lets a small groan escape him. “You sure?”
She nods, hopping off the table and adjusting her clothing. “Eijirou! We’ll be right out! Give us a minute!”
“I really wanted to continue,” he mutters, grabbing her by the waist, pulling her close, and hugging her, her back pressed against his stomach.
“I know, me too. We can do more when we come back.”
With a sigh, he removes the condom and zips his trousers back up. “Let’s go, then. You ready?” When she nods, Katsuki walks to the door, opening it and greeting his friend with a quick nod.
“Sorry, Ei, we were making music!” Kyouka chirps happily as she skips out of their house, hoping to distract the man with chit-chat so he doesn’t notice anything’s amiss.
“For the charity event, right?”
“Yeah! I’m excited!”
The walk to the car is weird. Katsuki’s trousers are tight, warm and slightly damp, and he’s sure Kyouka can feel how wet she is—it’s probably drenching her legs. The idea of it makes it harder for him to maintain his composure.
The drive to the restaurant is barely bearable. She’s doing the talking just because she knows he’s grumpier than normal—because they were interrupted while fucking. At least Eijirou is easy to distract, and on their way there, he does manage to calm down a lot.
Izuku, Ochako, Denki and Sero are already at the restaurant, waiting for them to arrive before ordering. Katsuki’s grown to like them over the years, so he does his best to exchange pleasantries with them as they wait for their meals. He asks them how they’re doing—after all, it’s been a while.
____________
The food is nice, and he guesses the company isn’t that bad, but Katsuki isn’t really paying attention to what his friends are talking about. Mainly because there’s a hand discreetly running up and down his leg seductively.
He turns his head and catches her staring back at him, a faint smirk on her face as she looks away. She accompanies this gesture by squeezing his groin slightly, but just hard enough that it leaves him breathless, forcing a small gasp out of him.
“Are you okay, Kacchan?” Izuku asks, worry painted on his face.
“Yeah, are you okay?” Kyouka grins wildly, as she starts to rub the sole of her left boot against his calf.
He clicks his tongue. “‘Course I’m alright,” he mutters, his right hand going under the table to quickly adjust his dick, already at half-mast. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices her watching him do it.
“I need to go to the toilet,” she says, her chair scraping against the ground when she pushes herself away from the table.
Kyouka purposely doesn’t look at him as she makes her way towards the restaurant’s bathroom, but when she turns the corner and finally disappears, he gulps. Is this a test from her, or does she really want him to follow her? Either way, he decides quickly.
“Fuck, I think I forgot my wallet in my car,” he grumbles, pretending to check his pockets as he gets up, “I’ll be right back.”
“It’s okay!” Eijirou chirps happily. “I can pay for you, bro! I don’t mind.”
Katsuki stares at him with almost hatred in his gaze, and his friend’s smile slowly diminishes.
“Or not,” the redhead finally whispers, tilting his head to the side.
“Be right back.” He hurries off towards the exit, but turns the corner and heads towards the bathroom instead. He opens the door and storms in, only to find Kyouka sitting on the sink, kicking her legs like she’s bored.
“This is the girl’s bathroom. What are you doing here?” She asks, a cheeky grin spreading on her face. She unfolds her arms and beckons him over. “Mmm, am I going to have to teach you manners?”
“If someone’s getting punished, it’s you. For torturing me all throughout dinner,” he whispers, leaning in as he grabs her face. He kisses her with passion, maybe being rougher than normal because he’s so wound up.
“You deserve it,” she mutters when she pulls away from his lips. She smiles again, pushing him away from her. Katsuki humours her and steps away, giving her space to jump off. “Now fuck me senseless until I can’t walk.”
“My pleasure.” He grunts, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her into the nearest stall he walks—backwards—into.
Her fingers are already unzipping his trousers as he kisses her neck, and his dick is already out and hard before he’s reached her mouth.
“Wait,” he whispers, pulling his wallet out and grabbing the condom that’s been in there for at least a month. “We need this.”
“Yeah,” she whispers, snatching it from his hands just before falling to her knees on the cold floor. She pulls his cock into her mouth, her dainty fingers working the packet open as she starts bobbing her head up and down over his member.
“I’ll repay the favour later,” he whispers, a gasp escaping his lips. She pulls away and proceeds to put the condom on, his small whimpers dying out as the pleasure subdues.
“Do it now,” she replies, smirking as she gets up from the floor and turns around, lifting her skirt up just slightly. He doesn’t get much of a peek, but he slaps her behind quickly before entering her.
He groans into her neck as her warmth engulfs him. “Fuck, that feels so good,” he mutters, starting to move slowly. His hands grasp her hips tightly, pulling them towards him.
She moans and moves with him, whimpering every once in a while. He loves every little sound she emits; it makes him all the more excited.
“I wonder if they’ll come looking for us,” he groans huskily into her ear, his lips brushing against her skin.
“If they do, we’ll put on a show,” she mutters back, throwing her head back so he nuzzles his face into her neck. He nibbles at her flesh as he slowly increases the rhythm.
He knows it won’t take him long to come, not with how amazing it feels to fuck her senseless in a public bathroom, but he tries to please her as much as he can before he explodes. He starts rubbing her clit with two fingers—just like he knows she likes it—and she gasps, increasing the frantic rhythm of her own thrusts.
“I’m close!” she whispers, her hands flying back to grab onto him, pressing him against her body.
He can feel her insides tightening up, and that’s enough to send him overboard. Closing his eyes, Katsuki leans into her neck more, biting her shoulder hard to stop himself from crying out in bliss.
Nearly banging the wall, Kyouka stops herself from screaming by biting into her hand, but it doesn’t silence her moans completely. When they’ve both finally been spent, he pulls out and leans against the door, letting her go. She slides down and onto the floor, looking extremely happy.
“That was amazing,” she whispers, gazing into his eyes passionately. “I love you.
CW: NSFW, violence, drug use/abuse/addiction, alcohol use/abuse/addiction, strong language, character death.
Starting point
Read on AO3
Or read below the cut
It isn’t worth it.
“No, dude, c’mon… I thought we were gonna have a nice night out.” I say, trying to change the subject and change his mind. “It should just be us two. I’m super stressed out with my homework and my studies and I don’t want to think about anything.”
His face falls as he believes my fib and his brows knit together cutely.
“I’m sorry dude, I don’t wanna stress you out more. Do you want another drink?”
“Yes, please.”
“Oh, wait, I know what’ll cheer you up!” Denki cries, excited.
“What?”
He smiles at me before pulling a grinder from his pocket and showing it to me. He quickly puts it away – aware of the illegality of what he’s holding, or seemingly at least – when he notices the recognition on my face.
“Why do you have that?” I hiss at him and he just shrugs his shoulders.
“Do you want to try it?”
I know he’s done it before. I remember being in high school with him, when he used to wishfully say that he wanted to try pot because he heard it felt good, and how excited he was when he told me he'd tried it.
Even if he sometimes smokes… should I?
Go to chapter 14 if you want to persuade him not to smoke
Go to chapter 15 if you want to smoke (coming soon)
CW: NSFW, violence, drug use/abuse/addiction, alcohol use/abuse/addiction, strong language, character death.
Starting point
Read on AO3
Or read below the cut
A sigh escapes my lips and I close my eyes. All my fears… There’s no way such an attractive man would even talk to me, let alone look at me.
I’m not good enough for him.
“No. I can’t do it.” I whisper, dejected. I intertwine my fingers on my lap and look at them instead of at Denki, who I know is staring at me accusatively; I can feel his gaze on me.
“Okay, then.” He replies, leaning back against his own chair. “Don’t do it. It’s okay.”
“You’re angry. Please don’t be angry.”
“Nah, I’m not angry. I can’t say I’m not disappointed though. I am a little bit. But it’s your choice after all, I just never knew you were such a chicken…”
“Denks…”
“It’s okay, bro, as I said, your choice. But… out of curiosity, which one is he? Is he that blond dude over there?”
“Yeah…”
“He’s totally your type.”
“Shut up, I don’t have a type!”
“Look, you have a type, I have a type, we all have types.”
I’m not prepared to argue with him any more so I just let it go.
Denki sighs quietly. “I’ll go get us some more drinks.”
He gets up and squeezes my shoulder lightly as he walks past me.
A few minutes go by and he’s still not back so I decide to turn around. My eyes fall on the two blonds and I watch in horror as they kiss, Denki's arms wrapped around his neck and tiny waist, his fingers intertwining in short, spiky hair.
I can only imagine what it feels like, silky to the touch despite its gruff appearance, much like the look of the man it belongs to.
I bite my lower lip, feeling my tummy turn uncomfortably. I feel so hurt and betrayed. I only want to go home.
Or maybe I should confront Denki?
Go to chapter 64 if you go home (coming soon)
Go to chapter 65 if you confront Denki (coming soon)
CW: NSFW, violence, drug use/abuse/addiction, alcohol use/abuse/addiction, strong language, character death.
Starting point
Read on AO3
Or read below the cut
A smirk spreads on my face as I twirl my glass in my hand. “So I choose, huh?” I glance at him and my smile grows wider when I notice I have his attention. “What are my options?”
Bakugou leans in, grinning slyly. “Yeah,” he whispers, his breath warm against my skin, making me feel all tingly, “I wonder what your options are…”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s flirting with me.
“About these options,” I mutter, inching closer, “do I need to ask permission or…?”
“Just kiss me already, Shitty Hair.” He barks.
Before I can complain about his distasteful nickname, he’s already slammed our mouths together into a sloppy kiss.
I follow his lead, letting his teeth gnaw at my lower lip before granting him access into my mouth. His hands latch onto my waist and his fingers dig into my skin in a painless, yet exciting way.
As he deepens the kiss, he leans in more, being so daring as to lower a hand until it’s resting on my thigh. The movement makes me extremely excited and I moan, letting my body relax against his caress.
His hand keeps inching closer towards my crotch and I become impatient, grabbing his fingers and pulling them all the way up, letting them go so they nestle nicely on top of my half hard, clothed dick.
He bites my tongue a little harshly at that, a sultry snarl coming out of him. He pulls away and he gazes at me intently, a passionate fire in his lovely red orbs, which he narrows.
He runs a hand through my hair and down my cheek, almost lovingly, before his other gives me a squeeze over my trousers.
I want it sooo much.
I dive to kiss his lips again, and he meets me halfway, mouth prepared to accept my tongue. He hums and I decide that it’s a bit unfair that he’s touching me and I don’t have my hands all over him.
My fingers brush gently against his neck before they trail slowly down his shirt, passing very impressively sculpted pecs, which I make a mental note of squeezing and admiring later, when we’re on a bed and naked.
Gods, I want it now.
My hand trails down his stomach and I grab his waist, almost choking when I realise how tiny it is. And he’s not a small dude. He’s pretty well built, with thick muscles, obviously honed with years of working out.
His body is so sexy.
I squeeze my fingers against his waist and he hums against my mouth, pulling back slightly. His eyes are narrowed again, but there’s a smirk playing on his face.
“You bastard.” He mutters, quickly diving back in to continue the kiss.
I continue dragging my fingers over his slim waist, so he retaliates by giving my cock a little squeeze over my trousers and I almost shriek.
He pulls back to shush me, a small laugh coming out of that pretty mouth that I want to devour with kisses.
I use my free hand to pull at his hair and bring us closer, but I don’t link our lips together this time; I just stare into his eyes, witnessing the growing passion in them.
It makes me so hot, and I think he’s feeling the same way.
He grabs my face and gives me a quick kiss before releasing me and getting up from his seat.
“Come with me.” He whispers, his voice slightly hoarse. He doesn’t need to tell me again – I’m already on my feet by the time he’s turned around, and I follow him through the crowd, not paying much attention to my surroundings.
My eyes stare at his wide back and the way his shirt clings to his muscles, then at his arse and I admire that for a few seconds before he stops at the bathroom door, pulling me by my shirt.
He nearly throws me into a stall, but I only realise where we are when he’s finished locking us in it. Not that I care very much where we do it as long as I get to have my mouth over every inch of his skin.
He smirks as he presses his body against mine, and I feel fire when he does. He grinds our hips together, and I could almost come with just this feeling. I’m happy he’s as hard as I am; I like the idea that he’s enjoying this.
Whenever he kisses me I feel dizzy; it’s like I’m drunk on lust, and my fingers are itching to press against his skin. I grab onto his clothes a little too hard and pull him in towards me, eliciting a sweet moan out of him.
He bites my neck and leaves a trail of saliva all over from my ear to my collarbone whenever his mouth is free enough for him to do that.
I can’t wait anymore and I gently slide a hand under his shirt and let it roam freely over his warm skin. I feel his abs and flat stomach, which I decide to grope for a while until he snatches my hand away and takes my mouth into a kiss. My breath hitches in my throat when he pulls back, his face close to mine, and a lusty grin on his.
“Impatient, huh?” He growls as he dives in to kiss me again, his hands leaving their places by my sides and going to my trousers, to quickly unbutton my jeans.
He tugs the fabric down harshly until they’re around my ankles and then he looks up at me with a wide, knowing grin as he slowly gets to his knees.
I feel so powerful for a few seconds, seeing this gorgeous god on the floor and just inches away from my cock, but the sensation only gets better when he frees my dick from my underwear.
I feel like he wants to say something but instead he opens his mouth wide and takes as much of me as he can. He doesn’t choke as he intertwines his eyes with mine.
My mouth opens wide and a small gasp escapes as a sudden explosion of pleasure hits me. My hands rush to his hair and curl against his locks, securing the position of his head onto my cock - hopefully forever.
His tongue is like magic, and just the intense way in which he’s looking at me is making everything so much better. My heart’s hammering in my chest at such a rate that I think I’m going mad. I’m so dizzy with lust I might just die.
I try to steady myself by leaning against the stall, panting heavily as I watch the blond god while he wraps his mouth around my cock. I shudder as he takes me in, and I ball my hand into a fist, clenching my teeth to stop myself from banging it against the flimsy plastic wall.
He looks up at me and smirks, like he knows what he’s doing to me, and that smug smile of his sends a shiver down my spine.
I aid him with his head bobbing, but he never once gags.
My breathing soon starts to quicken irregularly and I can feel I’m close - I’m having a hard time stopping myself from spilling into his mouth. His tongue is just too warm and his mouth too perfect of a hole.
He pulls away abruptly and stands up, immediately kissing me. I taste myself on him, slightly salty but not too unpleasant. I whine as his fingers ghost over my cock, feeling the sensation rapidly disappear.
“Can’t let it finish that fast.” He mutters, nipping my lip playfully.
I sigh, trying to stop myself from sagging against the stall’s wall. “You’re gonna kill me,” I chuckle, panting.
“Not without fucking you senseless first.” Bakugou growls before smashing our lips together again. He’s relentless, almost clawing at my shirt.
“That seems fair,” I respond, feeling drugged. I chase his mouth, looking for another kiss but he doesn’t humour me this time. Instead, he unzips his own trousers and tugs my hands down, positioning them over his bulge.
“If it’s fair, get on with it then!” He snaps, leaning in and snarling against my mouth, denying me another kiss by pulling away when I try to catch his lips. There’s fire in his eyes when he squeezes his hands against mine, which in turn stimulates his pulsing dick. His underwear is still covering him up, but I can tell the girth of his cock. It feels warm and maybe slightly humid at the tip in my hand.
I give a little squeeze on my own accord and he thrusts his hips up, a sly smile forming on his face.
“That’s more like it,” he rasps before leaning into me, pressing his body against mine and laying his head on my shoulder.
I uncover his dick, take a second to imprint the image of it into my mind and then proceed to pump him, hard.
He groans into my neck, digging his teeth into my skin to stop his moans. I shiver at his warm mouth and wet tongue, my eyes fluttering close.
“Don’t stop,” his voice rasps. “Fuck, never stop.”
I chuckle, but a warmness starts in the pit of my stomach and travels up inside me, making me feel giddy.
He only pulls away to lock lips with me again, his hand travelling down and groping me with force.
The yelp I let out is eaten by his mouth, which he’s kissing like he’s taking away my life source. My knees are weak too - maybe he is?
He finally lets me go, looking into my eyes after he watches the thin trail of saliva that connected our mouths break.
“Fucking open me up already.” He snarls.
I gulp, my eyebrows raising. He’s not serious, right? He wants me to do that… here?
“What?” I end up replying, ever so eloquently. My voice sounds thick, so I swallow again to try and clear my throat.
He groans, exasperated, pulling away from me. He stares at me for a split second, but I can’t read his eyes. He huffs before hoisting himself up onto the toilet, facing the wall. Turning his head slightly but not avoiding my gaze, he slips his trousers and underwear down, showing me his posterior.
“I said,” he growls, his teeth clenching and his eyes back on the wall in front of him, “it’s time to open me up. It wasn’t a question.”
I’m drawn to him, like magic or some sort of magnetic phenomenon. His body pulls me forward, my hands immediately reaching out to grab onto his waistline. I dig my fingers into his flesh and squeeze.
“It’s an order.” He finishes, shivering at my touch.
“Alright,” I reply, taking a deep breath before pressing my face into his neck, “if you insist.”
I’m drunk on his scent but I’m hungry for more of him.
I bite and tease at his skin, my fingers disappearing under his shirt to play some more. Anything to make him shiver and moan like before.
“Hurry!” He urges, sticking his bum out even more so it’s pressed against me.
‘Don’t be so impatient’, is what I want to tell him, but instead I kiss his neck and let my hands fall over his skin, halting at his hips. Before I know what I’m doing, one of my fingers is running up and down his crack.
I hear him suck a breath in, but it gives me the courage to dig in deeper. My digit goes in him.
He shivers, a lovely little sound coming out of his mouth. I feel entranced by every movement he makes; dizzy just by how warm he is against my index finger.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice sounding raspy.
“Of course I’m okay,” he bites back, turning his head so our gazes connect. His eyes are narrowed, but he still pulls me in with the look he gives me. It’s passionate and warm, almost like he’s screaming at me not to go, to not leave him, not like this.
Not that I would. Ever.
“Can I…?” I have trouble finishing the question, basically because Bakugou barks his reply before I can even think of what to say.
“Stretch me out and fill me in with your dick? Yeah, I don’t know what you’re waiting for.”
I honestly can’t form words after hearing that. So I decide not to say anything and instead just slowly insert my finger deeper into him.
He lets out a long breath, his body relaxing, slumping against the wall. I ghost kisses over his neck while my other hand reaches around to pump him and make the process easier.
He groans, shivers and pants and I only stare at the back of his head, my mouth slightly open as I take in the view and everything about the situation.
I love this so much. My dick is so hard, so agonisingly erect that it’s almost painful. A part of me kinda wants to get this over with so I can finally relieve myself, but I mostly just want to enjoy this. Maybe I’ll cum without being touched, just by watching how he comes undone by my own hands.
By the time I’ve got three fingers in, he’s bucking his hips gently against me, almost like he’s trying to be careful.
“Fuck me.” He ends up hissing, his voice much lower than before. I can’t tell if he’s embarrassed or just really excited. Maybe it’s a bit of both.
Licking my lips, I let my fingers slowly leave his hole. They ghost over his rim for a few seconds before I pull away, my other hand still groping at his waist so he knows I’ll be right back.
“You sure you’re ready?” I ask, and my voice seems breathy, unstable, like I’m trying to whisper but I can’t. I’m excited but also apprehensive, and I can tell because my hands are shaking. The alcohol isn’t helping, either.
“Yes, Shitty Hair, of course I’m ready. Why else would I be on my knees on top of this filthy fucking toilet in a fucking bar!?”
A shaky sort of semi laugh leaves my lips but I let my nails drag over his skin just to tantalise him a little bit more. He inhales sharply, but before he can complain with another snarl, I’m lining my dick against his hole.
He makes the oddest sound when the tip plays against the tight muscle, like a low purr that he tried to silence. It’s adorable, but also very exciting, and all I want to do is hear more from him, so I slowly push the head of my cock past the rim.
Bakugou straight up moans at this, throwing his head back.
“You okay?” I ask, but I can barely recognise my voice. It sounds so animalistic, so raw and so unlike me. I don’t dislike it though.
“What did I say about stupid questions?” He snarls back at me, but his whole body flinches when I shove my cock up all the way in to the hilt.
“You sound like you’re more than okay.” I chuckle, a hand reaching up to tangle in his blond locks, forcing his head back slightly, tilting his face so we can look at each other. “Maybe I should continue.”
“Maybe you should.” He replies, so I comply. My hips start moving and his breath hitches with the first few thrusts. I can see his hands tightly gripping onto the toilet’s tank cover, his forehead shoved against the stall’s wall.
A sharp, broken inhale escapes my lips. Woah, the way his small waist looks in between my hands is going to make me go crazy. My thumbs can almost touch. The thought turns me on more, and I thrust harder.
He hisses and I stop, terrified that I’ve hurt him.
“Harder,” he grunts, his voice raw and animalistic but also slightly hoarse.
“I’m not hurting you?” I mutter, my nails slowly clawing into his hard abs. Just as I imagined, he shivers at that and I smile crookedly.
“Does it look like you’re hurting me?”
I don’t reply with words; instead I let my body do the talking.
I’m afraid to admit it doesn’t take me too long to reach climax. He’s just too tight and warm, too perfect of a hole for me to resist the need to spill my load all over his insides. I pull out and let my cum fall over his sculpted back with a sigh.
Before he can complain I turn him round and sit him on the toilet. I’m on my knees and sucking him off just as he opens his mouth to protest or ask what I’m doing.
His eyes flutter closed as I take his member in between my lips. My tongue starts rolling around in my mouth, and not before long I can taste his discharge.
“Fuck,” he pants, “that was too good. Shit.”
I wipe my mouth and smile at him.
“I loved it too.” I mutter, looking directly into his eyes.
“So,” he says, running a hand over his messy, slightly damp hair, “whatcha wanna do now?”
He looks positively debauched, with half-lidded eyes and rosy cheeks. As I watch him, two ideas pop into my mind.
Go to chapter 62 if you invite him over to your house (coming soon)
Go to chapter 63 if you tell him to get something more to drink (coming soon)
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Drumroll, please!, a Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia One Shot.
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Summary: His eyes widen as they roam the shiny red drum kit. Even the copper cymbals seem to gleam when he looks at them.
He clambers over the stool and looks at his mother, who gives him an encouraging smile. When he glances at his father, the man nods his head and Katsuki gulps, taking a large breath before trying his new present out.
He gives the cymbals a tentative hit, only moving his wrist subtly. The sound it makes immediately takes his breath away. He lets the drumstick fall against the snare drum, and he’s immediately hooked.
He feels like fire is running down his arms and exploding out of his hands. He has no idea what he’s doing but he screams, closing his eyes and letting the sensation fill him with joy.
On the morning of his 7th birthday, Katsuki wakes to a present-less room. He immediately goes downstairs and finds his father reading the newspaper, calmly sipping on his tea. On their dining table is a small, neatly wrapped gift. Suppressing a scream, the child runs over to it and nearly throws himself against the wooden surface to grab it. He hears his dad clear his throat. “You can’t open that yet, Katsuki.” He says calmly, folding his newspaper and setting it aside.
“Why not!?”
“Your main present is in another room.” A smile slowly works its way to his face as he gets up. Before the boy can ask any more questions, his dad gestures at him to follow him. He takes the child into the study and pauses in front of the closed door. “You do the honours.”
Katsuki’s quick to do as he’s told. He finds his mother standing next to a huge bulk covered with a white blanket, smiling as she gestures towards it. His father gently pushes him forwards, so the child slowly walks towards it, eyeing her suspiciously. He finally gets to the mysterious thing and gives the fabric a tentative tug, making the material fall to his feet.
His eyes widen as they roam the shiny red drum kit. Even the copper cymbals seem to gleam when he looks at them.
Finally remembering that his left hand still has a tight grip on the present he found on the table, he looks down at it and sees that he’d torn the wrapping paper accidentally. It’s not a big enough tear that he can tell what’s inside, but he pokes a finger through it to open it, revealing a pair of wooden drumsticks.
He clambers over the stool and looks at his mother, who gives him an encouraging smile. When he glances at his father, the man nods his head and Katsuki gulps, taking a large breath before trying his new present out.
He gives the cymbals a tentative hit, only moving his wrist subtly. The sound it makes immediately takes his breath away. He lets the drumstick fall against the snare drum, and he’s immediately hooked.
He feels like fire is running down his arms and exploding out of his hands. He has no idea what he’s doing but he screams, closing his eyes and letting the sensation fill him with joy.
Katsuki’s too focused on his new toy that he almost doesn’t hear his mother say: “We made the right choice,” while hugging her husband.
The next thing Katsuki learns is that they had signed him up for drumming lessons at a nearby music school.
For a while, Katsuki is extremely happy. Not only does drumming fulfil him, but his new teacher tells him he’s a natural and constantly praises him. He’s a quick learner, and he’s eager to advance.
The private lessons and the time he spends drumming at home make him have something to look forward to every day.
He feels fire in his palms that explodes whenever he’s playing the drums, and it makes him feel exhilarated; makes him feel alive.
In class, he’s just bored out of his mind. He tries to keep himself entertained by mentally practising playing, but it’s not the same as having the real thing.
He finds it hard to connect to the other kids his age. He doesn’t have the patience for them, and honestly, as the years go by, he feels more and more like they’re not worth it. They don’t like him because he has a bad temper and a sharp tongue. It doesn’t bother him, though. He doesn’t need them anyway. He’s not lonely. Katsuki doesn’t feel alone because he’s got drumming.
He’s scrolling through his phone while sitting in the back of his parents’ car on the way home from school. His mum turns the radio on and Katsuki’s jaw almost drops when he hears the first few notes of a song play.
The intensity of it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he immediately looks up from his phone and pays more attention to the music. It sounds like nothing he’s ever heard before but it’s also kind of familiar.
He recognises his mother’s favourite station and his eyebrow twitches.
“What band is this?” He demands, not noticing he’s scowling as he impatiently awaits her answer.
His mother chuckles gently, turning the volume up slightly. “That’s ‘The Symbol of Peace’, kid. It used to be my favourite band back in the day. Glad to see you’ve got good taste after all.”
Katsuki’s too enthralled by the song to even answer her back. The drummer’s rhythm and tempo are amazing. The way all the instruments sound together makes goosebumps form all over his arms.
He’s never listened to anything that sounds this perfect.
He becomes obsessed with them after that experience. His mother gives him some of her old posters, but he also buys some of All Might (the lead singer and guitarist) and puts them all in his bedroom, and a few in the study where he practises drumming. That way he can look at them when he feels low on spirits. It helps him focus and find that passion, rekindle that fire when he’s uninspired.
It also has a new and different effect on him that he hadn’t anticipated.
He starts wanting to be like them. On a poster. On someone’s walls.
He wants to be in a band.
He suddenly realises he wants to become a rock star. One that won’t be forgotten in time, like All Might.
Katsuki wants to be the greatest drummer to have ever existed. It’s going to be a lot of hard work – he’s well aware of it – but he’s never wanted anything more.
He starts his last year of middle school with a new attitude, but unfortunately, there’s a pebble in his way.
A loser called Midoriya Izuku is in his class. He ignores his existence until one day he hears him play the guitar. Katsuki’s jaw drops. He has a way of making the instrument sound extremely beautiful.
Katsuki starts seeing the green-haired boy as an obstacle to surpass to become number one. He starts calling him Deku to make fun of him and to remind him that he’s below him.
In fact, if he thinks about it, he remembers seeing him excitedly running around the music school as kids.
Although Katsuki won’t admit it, the other boy unintentionally motivates him to practise harder. He starts ditching his homework because being the best is more important.
Katsuki’s always done well at school without much effort. Things are different now, though. Since he’s been so focused on drumming, his report card isn’t as good as it always is.
He’s almost hesitant to show it to his mother, who swipes it out of his hand. She gives the paper a quick glance before lowering it and looking him square in the eyes.
“Katsuki, what is this?” She asks, her voice neutral, but her lips are pressed into a thin line that shows how displeased she is with his results.
“What’s what?” He retorts in between clenched teeth.
“These marks! They aren’t good!”
“They’re not bad!” He replies, his tone rising.
“Katsuki,” she pauses to breathe in, inhaling air through her flared nostrils. “Don’t you want to go to a good high school? A good university? Do you not care about your education?”
He sets his jaw and decides not to answer her.
“Are you listening to me, Katsuki?” She raises her voice and places the report card on the table next to her before crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m being serious here. Your future isn’t something you can gamble with.”
He stops himself from lashing out at her by slamming his hands against the table instead. The slap makes his skin tingle, and the sound echoes around the room like an explosion. Like when he plays the drums.
She gives him a once-over before shaking her head in disappointment. “I’m cancelling your drumming lessons. You need to put more time and effort into studying.”
“WHAT!?”
“You heard me, Katsuki.” She replies dryly.
“You can’t DO THAT!” He’s shaking with fury and he can feel the resentment and irritation flowing through him.
“Of course I can, you brat. I’m your mother. Don’t forget that. I decide over your future because I know what’s best!”
He stares at her, his nostrils flaring in anger. Without saying a word, he stomps off and shuts himself in his room to scream his lungs out.
Katsuki doesn’t understand why she nags him so much. Weren’t they the ones to buy him the drum kit? He didn’t even ask for one and they gave it to him. And now that he’s playing it and actually learning and practising, they’re telling him he has to stop?
What do they care how well he does at school anyway? He’s going to be a rock star!
He stuffs his pillow into his mouth to drown his voice, but tears of frustration fall down his face.
They don’t understand anything.
Everything is a hundred times more frustrating and unbearable now that he doesn’t have his drumming lessons to look forward to.
He still plays at home, but it’s not the same. He feels stuck, like he isn’t advancing.
He almost feels like his future as a drummer is about to shatter.
Deku starts pestering him about the drumming lessons. He constantly asks why he hasn’t seen him around the music school. It feels like the little shit is rubbing salt into the wound, taunting him with the fact that he can still learn and advance, all while he’s being left behind.
Katsuki’s determined not to let anything stop him from becoming a star, so he practises every day in the study, keeping his goal in mind so he can power through everything.
He will become the best drummer in the world!
He begrudgingly accepts that he might as well do something with the time that used to be for his drumming lessons, so he starts working harder on his schoolwork. His marks go up and he enters UA, the high school All Might had attended.
The best thing about this new school is his music teacher, Mr. Toshinori. He’s a charismatic and generous man who looks frail and worn out because he’s terminally ill. He realised Katsuki’s potential and praised him for his knowledge from the very beginning.
The bad thing about UA is that Deku also got in. What’s even worse is that he’s also Mr. Toshinori’s favourite.
Trying to get rid of his pent-up frustrations, Katsuki starts playing the drums at home for hours on end.
His parents, however, don’t agree with how he chooses to spend his time.
One day, his mother screams at him to stop playing the drums and to study instead. She insists he’s too old to be fooling around and that he needs to start thinking of his future. She wants Katsuki to become a lawyer, make money and start a family.
None of those things sound good to him.
He snarls at her that he’s going to become famous and then she’ll regret everything she’s doing to him.
His mother ends up locking him out of the study, prohibiting him from playing.
That’s the first time in his life that Katsuki’s had something he loved completely taken away from him, and it shatters his whole world.
He cries and screams at his parents, telling them how unfair it is that they’ve done this to him because he has nothing else in life.
Since he can’t take his frustrations out on his drums anymore, he feels constantly pent-up. Deku notices and immediately starts bombarding him with questions.
Full of loathing and resentment, he tries to punch the little shit, who flinches away. Just as he’s raising his fist again, a hand encircles his wrist and pulls him back.
Katsuki turns around to lash out at whoever is stopping him, but his anger dwindles when he sees Uraraka Ochako. He hears Deku takes this opportunity to run away like the little coward he is.
She’s a sweet and innocent girl who he was sure hated his guts. She seemed to tremble in fear whenever he was near, and right now is no different: she’s shaking, even though she’s trying to look determined while holding him back.
It makes his arms go limp at his sides and she sighs in relief, also letting him go.
“Are you okay, Bakugou?” She whispers. It’s the first time anyone has asked him that since he lost his drum kit.
He breaks. He doesn’t know why but he tells her everything. She listens intently and that reassures Katsuki that he’s doing the right thing.
“I understand what you’re feeling. That sounds really frustrating and unfair,” she tells him when he’s finished speaking, “but that doesn’t mean you should be violent. You shouldn’t take your frustration out on people. But if you ever need to talk or anything, I’m here. I can listen.”
Katsuki can’t find his words. All he knows is that he’s finally found a friend.
Ochako comes up with the idea of asking their music teacher for advice, and when Katsuki asks him, he offers him the school’s drum kit to play during breaks. Not only does he get to play there whenever he has some free time, but Mr. Toshinori is usually in the classroom with him, watching him practise and giving him advice and corrections. He feels like he’s finally making progress again.
However, one day, Katsuki finds Deku sitting in the chair closest to the piano, watching intently as Mr. Toshinori plays a nice melody, one that sounds vaguely familiar.
“What’s he doing here?” Katsuki snarls, narrowing his eyes.
The teacher stops playing and looks up at him, an ample smile on his face. “I know you haven’t been getting along recently, so I thought you could have a little chat and become friends.”
“Yeah, Kacchan!” Deku nods his head energetically. “I bet we have stuff in common!”
Katsuki can’t answer. He’s stuck at the entrance of the classroom, incapable of even turning away, despite his brain telling him to scram.
“Actually,” the other teen whispers, his gaze lowering to look at the floor. “I saw that picture you posted on Instagram the other day. The one with all the posters. I’m also a huge fan of ‘The Symbol of Peace’!”
Before Katsuki can answer, their teacher asks: “You both listen to ‘The Symbol of Peace’?”
“Yeah! They’re this awesome group that was super famous not that long ago!” Deku starts rambling, telling them facts that of course Katsuki already knows. He’s got that horrible smirk he gets when he’s talking about something he’s passionate about. “They always won against Endeavor in terms of sales, but they were always neck to neck! ‘One for all’ was their debut album and it made them famous world-wide!”
“Shut up!” Katsuki shouts, kicking the door out of frustration.
He doesn’t wait for an answer from either of them and just storms out of the room, his teeth clenched. He hears Deku shouting his name and it makes him want to punch something.
“Wait, Bakugou, my boy!” Mr Toshinori’s voice makes Katsuki turn around and he sees the old man panting slightly as he hurries to follow him. He starts coughing but tries to talk despite his shortness of breath. “I have something I need to talk to you about.”
Begrudgingly, Katsuki follows him into the classroom again, but sits as far away from Deku as he can, swallowing the insults he so desperately wants to hurl at the other teen.
“My passionate students,” he starts, a softness in his voice that almost moves Katsuki, “you are both incredibly talented and bright young men. I’ve tried my best to be a good teacher for every student in this school, but I tried even harder with you two.”
He pauses, almost like it’s difficult for him to continue speaking. “Unfortunately, it’s time for me to retire from teaching.”
Mr. Toshinori, the only person he looks up to and that actually believes in him, is going to leave him forever?
Katsuki wants to shout at him, tell him that he’s weak. Instead, he stomps out of the classroom, wiping his tears away with his sleeve. He hides in the bathroom and glares at his reflection in the mirror.
He thought he was on track again, he thought he’d already overcome every obstacle in his way.
Maybe he’s not supposed to make it big. Maybe that’s not the fate for him.
Roaring in pain, he shoves his hands into his pockets and retrieves his drumsticks, the ones he’s had ever since he was seven years old. They’re a bit battered, but they still fit perfectly into the palms of his hands.
He stares at them with pure hatred, feeling like his whole body is on fire. He knows it’s not their fault; it’s his, for having a dream to begin with, but he needs to stop the horrible pain inside of him.
He grabs both ends of the wooden drumsticks and starts bending them, screaming furiously. He shuts his eyes because he can’t bear to have them open any longer, especially not with all the tears that are blurring his vision.
The distinctive cracking sound they make force them open again but he’s not ready to face the situation: he’s shattered one of the only things he’s ever cherished.
His actions slowly dawn on him and he sinks to his knees. He can’t blame this on anyone. It’s not his parents’ fault, it’s not Deku’s, it’s not Toshinori’s.
He did this to himself.
Fifteen minutes later, he’s calmed down enough that he can text Ochako.
Somehow, he manages to return home, cover himself in blankets and let his emotions drown him.
He doesn’t go to school the next day but Ochako barges into his room that afternoon.
“You’re an idiot!” She screams at him as soon as he pokes his head out of the covers to tell her to go away.
She sighs and walks over to his bed, to sit on the edge of it.
“I’ve got something for you, but you’ve got to promise not to wreck it.” She smiles as she gets something out of her schoolbag. It’s neatly wrapped and it doesn’t feel heavy in his hands when she finally gives it to him.
He opens it and finds a pair of drumsticks. His heart jumps when his eyes fall on All Might’s signature. The autographs of the other members of the band are also there: Sir Nighteye – the keyboardist – Best Jeanist – the bassist – and Eraser Head – the drummer.
“How’d you…” Katsuki raises his head to look at Ochako, dumbstruck.
“Mr. Toshinori searched for me today at school and asked if I could give this to you. He said he’s sorry you left like that yesterday. He didn’t mean to upset you.”
He closes his eyes and clutches the drumsticks against his chest.
“He also told me to tell you not to give up on your passion.”
His heart swells with her words. Maybe it is his fate after all.
“He thinks you can make it big, Kat.”
He tries to keep his teacher’s words present in his mind and heart. They are what help him take the step to leave home and drop out of high school to pursue his dream.
Ochako lets him crash at her place for a few months while he works part-time jobs to save up for his own drum kit.
He buys a cheap, second-hand one. It’s seen better days but it’s still usable, and he can tell it used to be bright orange. The colour is slightly faded but he thinks he prefers it as it is now.
Katsuki’s break starts just at the exact same time his phone rings. He glances at the name flashing on his screen before picking it up as he goes out of the back exit of the restaurant he works at.
“Whatcha want, Round Cheeks?”
“Hey Kats,” she replies, then says like it’s nothing: “I got you a band.”
Katsuki meets his new bandmates later that week. Their drummer suddenly quit because she got offered a job in another prefecture and Ochako found out thanks to a friend of hers.
The lead singer and bassist is a slim punk girl named Jirou. She’s very passionate about music and is the one that formed the band.
Playing the keyboards is a gorgeous woman named Yaoyorozu. The way she speaks shows that she must be from a wealthy family, but she gets embarrassed when he asks about it.
The blond man called Kaminari is one of the guitarists and Katsuki finds him annoying because he’s childish and likes to tease him a lot. He doesn’t find his jokes funny and barely tolerates him at first but ends up warming up to him eventually.
The other guitarist, a calm and silent man called Tokoyami, he actually likes. He’s the one that composes most of the lyrics of their original songs, although Jirou co-writes some too.
He finds that practising with them is easier than he expected. They’re all really good and he learns how to work with them without any difficulties.
Ochako steps in and starts managing the band. He’s only been with them for a little over a month when she gets them their first gig. It’s in a little bar that has a small stage for bands like them. They’re a bit cramped up there – he notices it when they start setting up – but it still makes Katsuki feel extremely excited.
He doesn’t hesitate before going on stage. He’s not scared. Maybe he should be, but he only feels exhilarated.
Sweat rolls down his forehead, but despite that, he feels elated. Raising his drumsticks, he looks into the spotlights.
His chest is heaving with every breath, and it feels like time is running in slow motion as he looks over the crowd, a ferocious grin on his face.
All his fears, all his emotions and tears, all his hard work, all his frustrations... they’re all worth it to be here, now, on top of a huge stage and loving every single moment of this.
His dream has come true. He remembers how he got the drum kit and his first lessons, how he was eager to learn and improve. He thinks about how inspiring he found ‘The Symbol of Peace’ and how he’s grown over the years. How everything – even the bad moments, like when he lost his drumming privileges or when he broke his drumsticks – have led him to where he is now. How this is so different to that time in that small stage at that gig Ochako got them.
Closing his eyes, he lets the grin fade slightly and turn into a loving smile instead.
This is new, but he feels grateful, and, most of all, happy, satisfied, fulfilled, completed.
With a deep sigh, he lowers his drumsticks and begins playing his drum solo from the last song of the night.
He bites his lip, not hard enough to draw blood but hopefully the little bit of pain stops him from crying. It doesn’t, because tears fall down his cheeks.
He’s not sad, nor relieved. He can’t believe it, but he’s actually crying from happiness, proud of himself.
He did it. He’s finally the king of his own destiny.
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It’s finally time: Force of Nature Zine is available for Pre-Order. Order your digital copy here: https://forceofnaturezine.bigcartel.com/
Pre-Order will stay open from today, July 12th until August 15th, 11 am EDT (Eastern Daylight Time).
Products will be shipped via E-Mail shortly after Pre-Orders end.
CW: NSFW, violence, drug use/abuse/addiction, alcohol use/abuse/addiction, strong language, character death.
Starting point
Read on AO3
Or read below the cut
Without thinking about it, I start signalling the bartender to come over and blurt a new round of orders to him. When I turn around to smirk at Bakugou, he just looks at me, his eyebrows raised.
He doesn’t say anything until I clink our glasses together, and even then, he just stares at me, his face unreadable.
“You trying to get me drunk?” He ends up asking, his eyes narrowed.
I laugh, thinking it’s obviously a joke. “I’m trying to get me drunk.” I whisper, my words slurring a little. My tongue feels heavy in my mouth, and I don’t know how much truth there is in what I’ve said.
He pauses for a second, his eyes searching my face. “Any reason why?”
I chug my drink, feeling his gaze on me as I do. When I’ve emptied my glass, I leave it on the counter and shrug my shoulders in response to his question. I try to gesture the bartender over again, but Bakugou’s fingers circle my wrist when I lift my arm up. My head spins when I turn it around to look at him.
“How much have you drunk already?”
“I’m not drunk.” I smile at him. I don’t pull away; his fingers feel warm against my skin and I like it. Our eyes connect, and I melt in the red sea of his orbs.
He lets go of me slowly, his gaze still interconnected with mine, and he gulps. His eyes dart away as he grabs his still full glass. He finishes it and leaves it on the counter next to mine.
“You can’t ask for another round when I haven’t even touched mine.” He says, his voice a whisper. I lean in to hear him better, but he turns his head away so I can’t look at his face.
Chuckling to myself as I pull away from him, I order us another round of drinks. I clumsily clink our glasses together again before taking a few swigs.
Bakugou finally looks at me, seemingly pensive as he sips his own beverage.
The way his red eyes are dancing over my face makes me feel more confident in myself. Well, maybe the alcohol helped.
“Heeey~” I smirk at him, leaning closer once more. “You’re really handsome. But I bet you get that a lot.”
He snorts and fiddles with his own drink, his eyes scrutinising me mercilessly. He doesn’t respond; it’s almost as if he’s waiting for me to continue talking.
My hand raises but stops right in front of his face. His eyes dart from it to me, but he doesn’t do anything.
I don’t know what I was trying to do with my hand - maybe touch his hair? But I’m nervous once again. I let it fall down until it hits my lap, but I can barely feel it.
My head’s spinning a bit, but there’s a restless feeling inside of me that’s telling me that only more alcohol will make it go away, so I signal for the bartender to bring us more drinks.
I don’t know if Bakugou’s finished his own but I don’t care. A little more never hurt anyone.
There’s warmth against my arm. I can definitely feel something. I turn around, sluggish, and find that he’s grabbing me, his eyes serious.
“How many have you had?”
I try to count in my head, but I’m not sure, so I just shrug my shoulders and offer him a wide smile. “Not enough!”
He looks skeptical, and his eyes narrow for a second. Or at least I think they do, my head’s fuzzy so I can’t be sure.
This still feels like magic, though. Is he really here? Is he really real? He seems too gorgeous to be real.
He laughs then, and I realise I’ve said those words out loud. He shakes his head and clicks his tongue, his fluffy hair swinging with the movement.
Bet he has a boyfriend. But wait, why would he be here if he had one? Boyfriend must be an idiot to leave him alone in a gay bar.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Bakugou says, almost matter-of-factly, but his expression is soft.
“Good.” And at least I know I’ve said this out loud.
“What would you do if I had a boyfriend?” He suddenly asks, leaning in.
“Nothing,” I shrug my shoulders, “you’re taken.”
“Hmmm,” Bakugou mutters, grabbing his glass and pressing it against those perfect lips of his.
“The more pressing question is, though,” is what I try to say, but I think I got the words muddled up because my tongue isn’t working how it should be, “will you come home with me?”
His eyebrow darts up again. Adorable. My heart pangs in my chest just with the sight and I almost choke on my drink.
He leans in and I’m almost sure he’s going to kiss me off my feet. I pucker up and close my eyes, waiting for his ridiculously sexy lips to brush against mine, but I feel nothing there.
Instead, he pats me on the head, and I look up, almost annoyed.
“Maybe some other time,” he offers, his features soft, almost… caring? “In fact, hand me your phone.”
It takes me a few seconds to realise what he wants, and when I do, it takes me a few more to fumble around my clothes until I find my mobile. I unlock it and hand it over to him and don’t watch as he types something in. Instead, I’m distracted by how good he looks in that shirt. It should be illegal to be that fine.
He clears his throat to catch my attention before shoving my phone back into my hands.
“See ya, Shitty Hair. Don’t drink too much.”
“Wa-!” I try to say, but he cuts me off with a smirk.
“And call me sometime, won’t ya?”
I’m left speechless on the stool, watching him leave. He’s out of the bar before my thoughts have caught up to what just happened. When I realise he’s gone, I turn around and look for something. Denki, maybe, but I’m not sure.
Do I want another drink? No, Bakugou’s probably right, I shouldn’t have any more.
That’s why I order another one, down it before I can regret it and I slump against my own stool.
A flurry of emotions and thoughts fill me. What did I do wrong? What did I do right? I should look for Denki. I should go home. I should dance.
Even though my thoughts are a bit sluggish, I can’t just let him leave, just like that. I get up and run after him.
The air outside is cold, but it sort of wakes me up a little. Or maybe not.
I can’t see Bakugou anywhere, and the realisation that he’s left finally hits me like a truck.
So I go back inside and order another drink, but I barely touch it. I don’t want to think, and being alone at the counter is making me feel sour. I probably fucked up, scared him off, lost my chance to be with him.
I try not to think and get up and head to the dance floor. My head’s spinning and I’m uncoordinated, so I eventually bump into someone. He steadies me by gripping my shoulders tightly.
“Are you okay?” He asks, and I nod. His soft voice and smile are so reassuring, I can’t help but feel really happy.
“We should dance!” I immediately shout, pushing myself away from him, but grabbing his hand and pulling him towards me as I make our way towards the dance floor.
“Okay!”
Our bodies mesh together perfectly as we dance, and nothing could be more perfect.
At some point during the night, I lean in and kiss him. He chuckles after pulling away, but quickly meets my mouth again.
I wake up on a bed that’s not mine. I don’t want to be awake - my head and body both hurt - so I close my eyes again and try to get a bit more sleep.
I can’t. Something’s unsettling me. Where am I?
My eyes fly open and I remove the covers, finding myself fully naked. Which, I’ll admit, isn’t the best to be if you just happen to be in an unknown place.
My clothes are on the floor so I quickly put them on, and when I’m done I sit down on the bed to debate what to do next.
It’s big. Matrimonial. As my fingers glide over the silky sheets I think about what to do next. I’m going to have to face whoever lives here - and sleeps on this bed - some time or another.
I was with Bakugou last night. I don’t remember going home with him, but he was the last person I was with at the bar.
I kinda hoped we’d share the bed. Maybe we had and I don’t remember?
A knock on the closed door snaps me out of my thoughts.
“Are you awake?” A voice I don’t recognise asks. It’s sweet and soft - so it’s probably not Bakugou.
“Yeah,” I croak out, trying to hide the disappointment in my voice, “uhm, where am I?”
I hear a chuckle on the other side of the door. “Come out whenever you’re ready and we can talk.”
I take about a minute to leave the room. I try to calm myself before I confront the situation, but my heart’s still beating frantically in my chest.
A green haired young man is waiting for me at the end of the corridor. He’s not very tall but he’s built - he obviously takes care of himself.
“Come with me, let’s sit down on the sofa.”
I follow him without a word, admiring the pretty decorations on the walls. He must have a lot of money.
“So you don’t remember anything about last night?” He casually asks as he pats the place next to him on the couch. He’s already seated when I get to his living room, but I’m a bit apprehensive to follow him. He sees my discomfort and offers me a reassuring smile. “Come in, it’s okay.”
“I don’t want to admit this, but I don’t know who you are.” I whisper sheepishly, still not budging from my spot at the entrance of the room.
He chuckles at that, not at all offended by my confession. “I thought as much by the look you gave me when you saw me.”
“Sorry.” I whisper sheepishly, looking away. My eyes fall on the huge flat screen TV and I immediately turn my head back to look at the stranger. His eyes and smile are kind, so I feel a little more at ease. I cross his living room and sit on the sofa next to him. Up close I realise he’s got freckles, which are what probably makes him look younger than he seems to be.
“I’m Midoriya Izuku, pleased to meet you, Kirishima.”
“How’d we meet?” I ask, frowning.
“You bumped into me last night. Asked me to dance, so we did.”
“Did… did I do anything…? I’m sorry, I was very drunk, I didn’t mean to-”
He cuts me off with a soft chuckle. “It’s okay, you didn’t do anything.”
I nod, satisfied by his answers for a few seconds. I rack my brains, trying to remember anything about this man or what I did last night. I can recall drinking with Bakugou… and ditching Denki. I should call him soon and apologise for running off without telling him.
I breathe in a shaky breath. “Did we…?”
“We just kissed.” He reassures me, offering me a sweet and comforting smile.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m okay with it.”
We’re silent for a little while again as I try to organise my thoughts. “Why am I here, though?”
“You were really drunk last night, and I didn’t feel right leaving you alone there. I wanted to make sure you were safe.”
My mouth drops. His eyes dart to the side and a cute little blush forms across his cheeks.
“And you slept alone! I tried to give you some pyjamas but you insisted that you were fine and I left before you started undressing! I swear I didn’t see anything!”
I feel my own face heat up, so I bury it in my hands. I’m super embarrassed that he saw all that. “I’m so sorry for everything.”
“It’s okay.” Midoriya replies, shrugging his shoulders. “Although… there is something I wanna talk about with you.”
“Yeah of course. Is everything okay?”
“You kept mentioning Bakugou last night.” He freezes as soon as he sees the look on my face. “Oh.”
“What did I say?”
“I mean… nothing… nothing bad. But, uhm. I wonder if it’s the same Bakugou? Hmm, what am I saying? Of course it’s going to be the same Bakugou.”
“He’s not your boyfriend, right?” I squeak, digging my fingers into the cushions at my sides. “He said he didn’t-”
He cuts me off again, but it’s the first time his voice sounds a bit odd. “He’s not my boyfriend. It’s not like that at all.”
“But… you do know each other, right?”
He sighs. “We’re childhood friends, sort of.”
I try to ask a question, but the face he’s pulling leaves me speechless.
He gives me a soft, slightly sad smile before averting his gaze. “But enough about that.”
I don’t know what to say. It’s true that I want to ask a million questions, but he doesn’t let me because he gets up from the sofa and offers me his hand.
“Want some breakfast?”
“I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.” I whisper, hunching my shoulders.
“Nonsense.” He chuckles, nearly thrusting his hand into my face so I end up taking it. He effortlessly pulls me up and turns to lead the way to his kitchen. “I barely have company over these days, so I’m glad someone’s here to have breakfast with me.”
“Uh…”
“Mmm, but I hope you don’t mind having milk? Or fresh orange juice. Sorry, I don’t have coffee. Caffeine messes with me, you know?”
“Orange juice is fine, thank you.” I reply, smiling.
When we arrive at his clean, white kitchen, he offers me a seat while he gets the oranges from the fridge.
“Can I help with anything?” I ask, ignoring his invitation to sit down.
“Nah, it’s okay. I can handle it. You could tell me about yourself, though.”
“I’m surprised I didn’t tell you my whole life yesterday, given how drunk I was.” I roll my eyes at my comment, but I still feel embarrassed about last night.
“I don’t think you did,” he mutters, grabbing the juicer from one of his top cupboards, “the music was loud, anyways, so I didn’t get to hear much of your pretty voice.”
How this man, who looks younger than me, makes me blush is something that eludes me. But I avert my eyes and turn my head to the side.
He chuckles at my reaction as he starts cutting the oranges. “You seemed quite confident last night,” he remarks, plugging the machine in, “what’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”
“I’m not drunk.” I reply bluntly, sitting on the stool he’d gestured to before.
He laughs, but turns to face me to smile broadly at me. “I used to be quite shy before.”
“That’s a bit hard to believe!” I shout over the loud noise the juicer makes.
“Well, believe it! Anyway, enough about me. What do you like to do, Kirishima?”
“Y’know, the usual! Be with my friends! Go out! Working out, listening to music… I work at a ramen shop. That’s a lot of fun, too.”
“Mmmhm, a ramen shop? Is it any good?”
“You should come by and try it for yourself!” I reply, a huge, proud smile spreading on my face.
“Are you asking me out?” He teases, pouring some orange juice into a mug. “I’m kidding, but I could go check it out some time. Maybe I can arrange to go with my friends. You know, hmm, one of my best friends owns an establishment of his own.”
“Really?” I ask, not keeping my excitement well hidden.
He chuckles and starts squeezing the next orange.
“It’s a bit different from a ramen shop, though. And another friend of mine works at a sushi place. Anyway, were you out with your friends yesterday? Did they ditch you?”
“More like I ditched them,” I whisper sheepishly, remembering last night and what I did to Denki.
“Did Bakugou ask you to drink?” Midoriya asks, scrunching his face up slightly. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but it doesn’t look good. “That’s unlike him.”
“No, I sort of… imposed myself on him. He didn’t seem to mind, though.”
His eyebrows lift and he tries to hide his smile by turning towards the juicer, but I got to see it briefly. My heart leaps in my chest.
“What does that mean?” I ask, leaning in.
“Mhhm, what does what mean?” He chuckles, glancing at me for a second before turning his attention back to the orange juice.
“That smirk!”
“Hmm, Kacchan is… very vocal when he doesn’t like something or someone. I’m just… surprised I guess.”
“Are you trying to say that he likes me?” My heart’s racing as I say this, and I bite my lip trying to stop a smile.
“You’ll have to ask him that yourself.” He says, shrugging his shoulders. He places the two mugs of orange juice in front of me and offers me a warm smile. “Cheers!”
“Thanks!”
After I’ve taken my first sip, I lower the mug. “Wait, Kacchan?”
“Ah, that’s just what I call him. I told you we’ve known each other for ages.”
I feel embarrassed all of a sudden, so I finish my drink instead of saying anything else. Midoriya seems quite content, anyways.
“I should get back home,” I mutter, not looking at him as I get up. “Thank you for your hospitality, though. I won’t forget it.”
“You can stay longer, if you want. Do you want to shower?”
I already feel bad about everything else he’s done for me so I quickly decline politely.
He gets up after me and follows me as I go to his door, but before I can open it, he leans on the frame of it.“Want me to accompany you to the station? Or somewhere? I don’t mind.” He offers.
“No, it’s okay. I can get home without any problems.”
“Can I have your phone number?” Midoriya asks, a small smile spreading over his face.
I nod and he takes his mobile out, quickly unlocking it before looking at me expectantly.
“Tell me what it is and I’ll call you later. You can add me then.”
“Sure!” I say, not failing to miss the little wink he makes. I call out the numbers and he repeats them to make sure he got them right.
“I hope to see you again sometime,” he whispers, the smile still on his face. “I had fun last night, and you seem very interesting. I’d like to get to know you better.”
“Yeah, me too.” I reply, stepping outside of his apartment.
“So call me sometime, yeah?” He says, leaning in and giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Take care of yourself!”
And before I can say anything, he’s closed the door behind me. Maybe it’s the hangover, or the huge amount of information that had just been dropped on me, but I feel weird.
I’m home before I know it. I’m tired and feel confused; I don’t know what to do. I end up deciding to have a shower, hopefully to clear my head.
I try to recall what happened last night, but the warm water doesn’t have any answers. Not that I was expecting it to, anyway.
What happened with Bakugou? What did I do or say that might have driven him away? Everything hurts and I just sigh in exhaustion. I hate how embarrassed I feel, and everything stupid I did yesterday.
My phone starts ringing and I scream accidentally, shocked by the loud noise. I grab a towel and wrap it hastily around my waist when I get out of the shower, running over to where I left my stuff.
It’s an unknown number but I pick up anyway.
“Is this Kirishima?” The gentle voice on the other end of the line asks.
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“It’s Midoriya. I told you I’d phone. I was hoping to catch you at home and not on the train.”
“Yeah, I’m home. Great timing.”
Somehow, the conversation sounds awkward. Maybe it’s just me, maybe I’m just nervous about everything that’s happened recently, and I don’t know what to say to him.
I want to ask about Bakugou, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.
“I’m glad you got home alright,” he whispers, and his soft voice makes my heart clench. He’s too nice.
I bite my lip, my gaze on the ground. “I’m really sorry about last night.”
“I already told you it’s okay. It was fun meeting you.”
I feel my face heat up, but I don’t know what else to say to him.
“Are you busy?” He asks. “I don’t want to interrupt you or anything. We can talk when you’re free.”
“Yeah, I, actually, I was having a shower. I’m getting a little cold.” I try my best to sound sheepish over the phone.
“Ah, don’t get cold please! We can talk later!”
“Thank you!” I shout, scared that he’s about to hang up on me. “For everything! I will call you back!”
“I don’t doubt it,” he chuckles, “now go finish taking your shower. Bye!”
“Bye!”
I only lower my phone when I hear the beep. I know I’ve got a dopey smile on my face, but talking to him actually kind of cheered me up a little?
Oh, yeah, I should add his contact info before I forget. I open up the recent activity and something catches my eye. A new contact number was added yesterday, by the name of ‘Bakugou’.
My heart misses a beat. It can’t be true. He gave me his number?
Should I call him? Or is it too early? Should I call Midoriya just to confirm it is in fact his number?
Go to chapter 60 if you decide to call Bakugou (coming soon)
Go to chapter 61 if you want to call Midoriya to ask about Bakugou (coming soon)
