“Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.”
“Mine.”
“I’m going to marry you one day.”
“You cant banish me! This is my bed/bedroom too!”
“You’re seriously like a man-child.”
“Stop being so cute.”
“I feel like i cant breathe when i’m around you.”
“It was a joke, baby. I swear.”
“Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment?”
“Will you just hold me?”
“What do you have behind your back?”
“Not to toot my own horn or anything, but the dog loves me more.”
“You look really good in my sweater.”
“No, i’m not letting you go. It’s too early to get out of bed.”
“I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.”
“You’re so cute when you’re half asleep like this.”
“Lets just stay in bed.”
“Is that my shirt?”
“No, like..its just, i cant believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”
“Can you stop playing connect the dots with my freckles?”
“Are you planning to stay glued to my side the whole day?”
“Wow- you look…amazing.”
“I’m not jealous! Its just..you’re mine!”
“You snuck into my room, at 4am…to cuddle?”
“This is gonna sound cheesy but….I love when you’re half asleep and talking nonsense.”
“What? No! I wasn’t staring…I-I was looking at something behind you!”
“Stop being so cute.”
“Tell me again.”
“Can’t you stay a little longer?”
“Because i love you god damnit!”
“Wait a minute.. are you jealous?”
“I really want to kiss you right now.”
“Then do it.”
“I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.”
“I heard that!”
“You were supposed to!”
“I turned out liking you a lot more than i originally planned.”
“Even when we were kids, i always kicked your ass!”
“Why should we date?”
“Because we’re attracted to each other.”
“I’m attracted to pie, but i do not feel the need to date pie.”
“Where have you been all my life?”
“Hiding from you.”
“Somehow, i always seem to end up here. With you.”
“Soulmate shit, it’s hardcore as hell.”
“I love you.”
“Thats nice.”
“How do i look?”
“If i didn’t know you better, i’d say you were trying to flirt by giving me books.”
“No! It’s your turn!”
“Enjoying the view, beautiful?”
“Be careful, he’s so sweet you might get diabetes.”
“I cant sleep without you. I need my personal body heater and cuddles.”
“How am i supposed to spoil you when you wont accept my gifts?”
“While i do enjoy the silent treatment, i wasn’t aware i had done anything to you.”
“What, you’ve never thought about us?”
“Why is your hand sweating so much?”
“So, we’re just going to ignore the fact that you drunk-dialed me to tell me you love me?”
“Im pretty sure your mom hates me.”
these are pretty loosely categorized as fluff but oh well. if you request from this list then please say “fluff; 34″ or something like that, just make sure you tell us what list its from so we dont get it confused with a different list.
Synopsis: You’ve got a past of being a delinquent, but you’ve made it into UA with a promising future regardless. Perhaps your most daunting competition, among all your peers is the hotheaded Bakugo Katsuki, equally infamous for his emboldened and against-the-grain demeanor. You two are hot and cold opposites, but your shared experiences as supposed “delinquency” make for a strangely mutual rapport.
Pairing: Bakugo x Fem!Reader
Rivals/Friends to Lovers, Fluff with a sprinkle of angst
Synopsis: You’ve got a past of being a delinquent, but you’ve made it into UA with a promising future regardless. Perhaps your most daunting competition, among all your peers is the hotheaded Bakugo Katsuki, equally infamous for his emboldened and against-the-grain demeanor. You two are hot and cold opposites, but your shared experiences as supposed “delinquency” make for a strangely mutual rapport.
Note: I’m back lololol sorry bout the wait! But ye, I hope you enjoy! Chapter’s a bit short... -K.
You punch at the wall, cursing with enraged gusto. Well, the sports festival hadn’t gone as you had hoped. Sure, you made it past the obstacle course and the cavalry battle by the skin of your teeth, but once you got to the one on one matches, you assumed you would be golden. Of course, you had to be pitted against Tokoyami, the only classmate you hadn’t been able to spar with before. Dark shadow was too quick for you to hold your own, and you while you avoided being pushed out of the ring (just barely) one swift blow was enough to do you in. You slump onto a chair, groaning. It’s not that you had lost that bothered you, you could accept defeat. But to have your failure publicized to the whole world? Including your family?
Your phone rings.
Right on time.
You pick up the call, answering with composure and your signature coolness.
“Hello?”
“Y/N!! Honey we were so worried! We saw-“
“Mom, I’m fine.”
“I don’t know how I feel about you going to that school. You could have died!”
“I didn’t, though.”
“Your brothers have been panicking all afternoon. Your father, too. Really, I think you should reconsider this.” Her voice is strained over the line. It sickens you to the pit of your stomach.
She continues. “I know you have the training from your father...but it’s a dangerous career. You should leave it to people who can handle the punches.” You grimace as she adds on. “Strong people.”
You sigh into the phone. “No, mom.”
“Y/N-“
“No. I can’t quit. Not this far in.”
“People give up on their dreams all the time...there’s no shame in it.”
You grit your teeth, starting to feel a lump in your throat. “I know that mom...but how can I do that when I haven’t even tried?” You shudder, feeling tears well up.
“Y/N-“
“I’ve got to go,” you mutter, hanging up before she can hear you sob. You wipe away at your tears, trying to calm down. After all these years, nothing had changed. She still saw you as that same helpless, fragile girl. The whole world probably did, now. After such a devastating fight, how could anyone respect you?
You were just weak. You didn’t belong here.
You inhale deeply, looking down at your phone to check your appearance. Your face was relatively normal, but with small blotches of red beneath the eyes. If I keep my head down, nobody will really notice. I better get out before the award ceremony’s completely over. People will be suspicious.
Once your breathing has slowed, you leave the locker room, keeping your gaze trained on the cement. Your eyes travel over every crack and crevice, even as you settle down beside your friends.
“Oh Y/N! You’re just in time.”
You had missed the last couple of battles, but you did have some clue who was in the running. The ranking didn’t surprise you, either. Good for Bakugo...
“I SAID I DON’T WANT THAT PIECE OF TRASH!”
“Now, now young Bakugo.” You flick your eyes up, every so slightly. Bakugo’s outrage had struck again. Whatever could he be throwing a hissy-fit at now? And wasn’t being chained up a bit excessive?
You pitied him. Clearly, something had happened in the time you had been moping.
After the ceremony, you approach him with a caution, purely apprehensive.
“Bakugo?” He grunts, examining the medal.
“Congrats.” He reels, turning his steely gaze to you with his eyebrows furrowed in anger.
“ARE YOU DUMB OR SOMETHING? Icy-hot completely threw the match!” He grumbles, shoving the medal into his pocket.
You peer down at your shoes. “I missed the last couple of fights.” Bakugo gives you a strange look. He notices that there’s something just a little off about you...something slightly askew concerning your demeanor. He leans in, knelting low to meet your downcast gaze. Close...
“Hah? Don’t tell me you were crying, freak.”
You stiffen, turning your head away from Blondie’s ruby-red eyes. “No.”
He sneers, straightening up. “Don’t be an idiot. It’s written all over your face.”
You’re silent. You fiddle with your hands, trying to figure out a way to convince him that you most definitely, most assuredly, had not been crying. Perhaps it would be best to say nothing and let this slightly awkward quiet disperse on its own. You watch Katsuki out of the corner of your eye. He’s looking at you with some unreadable expression. Such a funny-looking guy...almost a caricature of the modern-day bully/delinquent. Explosive hair that fit his explosive personality. Strong. In every single way. You stifle an angry laugh.
Bakugo lets out a frustrated sigh, shoulders hunched. Before you can speak, he interrupts. “Oi, I don’t know what’s got you so weepy, but if it’s the match, don’t bother. You had the strongest technique out there. Everyone saw that.”
He looks you in the eyes again. “You were tough. And you went down respectfully,” he sighs. “Unlike Icy-hot.” Bakugo spits Todoroki’s nickname like it’s poison. There’s bitterness in both his words and his face.
You clench your fists, feeling your heartbeat quicken for some reason. “Thanks.” What...? Why were you suddenly so happy to hear that? “It means a lot. Coming from you.”
“Whatever.”
The two of you start walking, settling into a comfortable conversation. Not one thing mattered at that moment. It felt normal, like perhaps this cordial sort of air was the universal teenage experience you guys were missing out on.
“So why were you chained up?”
“I DIDN’T WANT THE GODDAMN AWARD!”
“Still. Throwing a fit like that? Are you five?”
“PEH!! SHUT UP!”
The days went by quickly. Winding down from the Sports Festival wasn’t really on the table, and it seemed that everyone was charging forward with a drive to do the best they could. Unsurprisingly, you didn’t have too many internship offers, but at least the place you had chosen didn’t require you to style your hair in some dorky fashion. You ran into Bakugo while he was out on patrol with Best Jeanist, and couldn’t help but let out a laugh.
“YOU LOOK SO STUPID HAHAHAHAHA.”
His hair puffed back to its normal shape, prompting more cackles from you. “SHUT UP!” He lunged towards you, just barely stopped by the pull of his supervising pro.
“Bakugo,” Best Jeanist remarked cooly. “I’d suggest chatting with your girlfriend in a less aggressive fashion. And perhaps when you’re off-duty.”
Katsuki’s cheeks flushed bright red, his volume (and anger) intensifying. “SHE’S NOT MY GODDAMN GIRLFRIEND! I HATE THIS SHITTY JOB!”
He flailed against Best Jeanist’s control, writhing like an angry badger. Best Jeanist gave you a slight nod, turning away while dragging the explosive ash-blonde down the road.
In fact, you found yourself thinking about the guy a lot. Small things would remind you of him, whether it was your favorite song and its lyrics or the irritable Pomeranian from next door. But at night, during those quiet moments, his face would pop into your head. Not that angry, contorted expression he usually brandished, but the softer faces he made that forced your heartbeat to quicken. The way he pursed his lips slightly when he studied, how his brow slanted when he’d let out a cool retort, how he smiled when he thought nobody was looking.
You had a crush. Fine.
But that wouldn’t change anything. A crush was just a crush...not like you actually thought about dating him.
As you rose to greet the sunlight that peeked through your blinds, you sighed. Today, everyone would be at the mall. Shopping for training camp. Your parents had only just let you go, after begging and arguing for days and days. As you got ready, you felt a strange sense of unease. Like something terrible was going to happen...and your intuition wasn’t usually wrong. You brushed it off, adjusting your hair.
Synopsis: Denki has feelings for his childhood friend, and the concept scares him for a moment.
Note: I fear that this is quite ooc...but it was sitting in my drafts, and since his birthday was coming up, I thought it would be nice to break up all the Bakugo fics I’ve been writing. Happy late birthday, Pikachu! (Also i’m sorry the title really has nothing to do with the fic I just like electric puns jdkdjjdk)-K.
Denki Kaminari has no clue how to navigate romance.
Was he quick with a joke? Sure. A bit of a flirt? Definitely.
But when it came to love— actual love, that made his heart stutter and his stomach erupt with butterflies— he was some hopeless case.
Denki likes to consider himself a romantic. He really does. But he can’t help but wonder if someone would actually like him. People just view him as a class clown, or at the most, a fling. Not someone who’d actually be right for a relationship. Hell, he doesn’t know if he’s right for a relationship. So realistically, he’s a bit of a cynic. Or just jaded.
You’re his childhood friend. You knew all that. You knew almost everything about him. You knew he cared more than he let on, you knew that he used jokes because he liked making people smile, and you knew that he wasn’t the most confident.
But for some unknown reason, you didn’t notice his crippling crush on you.
He tried to move past it. Talk to girls, even go on a couple dates, but all the while he only thought about you. Denki tells himself to smother his feelings silently, making sure that one day he’ll look back and laugh at a stupid childhood crush he had when he didn’t know any better.
But every time you smile at him, he’s feelings grow more intense by tenfold. When you grab his hand or lean over his shoulder, he can’t help but feel kind of nervous. UA had separated you two- he was in the hero course, you in support. While he told himself to take advantage of the fact that he couldn’t see you every day, Denki couldn’t help but drop by after class to chat while you worked on your latest project. Which was terrible for his heart, seeing you so passionate and engrossed in your what you were doing. It was so adorable. And he hated himself for thinking so.
“How was your day dude?” He flinched, lost in his thoughts, then jolted up with a grin.
“Ehhh, you know.”
You look up from your project, brushing a stray hair out of your face. Even covered in grease and scratches, he still found you attractive.
“Not really,” you teased, sticking out your tongue. “C’mon, the hero course is probably way more interesting than what I’m doing. How’s it feel, now that you’re finally living your dream?” You lean over the workbench that separates the two of you.
Denki toys with some spare parts. “Almost surreal. It’s like- everyone’s quirk is super amazing. I’ll have a lot to live up to.” You beam warmly, flicking down your goggles.
“I’m sure you’ll be fine. You’ve always been the best at making people smile.” You fiddle with some cables, somewhat preoccupied. Your machine starts whirring. “That’s important, for a hero. Plus!” You spring up, dusting your hands off on your pants. “You’ve got a flashy quirk and good looks! You’re sure to be popular!”
Denki flushes, offering up a wide smile. It hurt hearing you say things like that, when he knew you didn’t mean it- well, you didn’t mean it in the way he wanted you to.
“Yeah. Well, I’ve got to go.”
These feelings for you were nothing new. But it was only recently that he had been able to put a name to them. Which was only more torturous, as he kept internally smacking himself whenever the thought of kissing you passed through his head. It used to be so easy to talk to you. The intrepid duo that shared secrets, stayed up late laughing at nothing til your lungs were sore, came up with silly pranks- why was it so difficult now? All this resulted in the guy becoming rather mopey, sighing softly while gazing off into space, a faraway look in his eyes. His trips to your workshop had become less frequent, til they petered out completely for about a week. He thought it might have helped- but as the saying goes, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Denki found himself staring at your contact number on his phone during the late hours of the night, the white screen illuminating his face. And it wasn’t as if his newfound contemplative nature went unnoticed by his friends.
“So Kaminari, you’re rather...quiet these days,” Mina jabs, slumping down onto the couch. The dorms were quiet, with most out and enjoying their Friday evening. Denki, along with his friends, had opted to mill about in the alliance building. Sero nods with agreement, regarding Mina. “Yeah. I can’t remember the last time you cracked a joke.”
Denki blanches, trying to smile for them. “What? It’s not like that, guys! I’ve just been thinking, lately.”
“Thinking? That’s dangerous.”
“Are you alright, Denki?” Kirishima looks up from his microwaved meal, his mouth full. “You really have been sort of strange.”
Denki laughs. Forcefully. “Guys, I’m fine! It’s nothing serious, I’m the same as ever!” He puffs out his chest, flashing a boyish grin. Though, the reception was lukewarm. The cast each other skeptical looks, determined to proceed with caution.
“You know you can talk to us, dude,” Sero pushes, sincerity in every word. “We’re your friends.”
“I’m fine, guys! Really!”
Bakugo snorts, alerting the others to his presence. He looks up from his phone.
“Would you morons lay off him? He’s probably just thinking of that kid from the support class.”
Mina gasps, her demeanor changing instantly. “Y/N? Your childhood friend?” She claps her hands, grabbing Denki and shaking him violently. “Perhaps some sort of romance?!”
Kirishima laughs. “How cliche!”
Denki feels heat rising to his cheeks, feverishly denying their suggestion. “N-No guys!! I don’t- I’m not-“
They all let out a collective “awwww!” And envelope him into a group hug.
“You’re really serious?!”
“You’re too cute!!”
“Come on now, you can tell us the truth!”
This was too much for him. He sinks into the couch, covering his face with both of his hands and releasing an exhausted groan.
“It’s just that... ugh, I don’t even know where to start!” He throws his arms up in frustration. The others huddle up near him, expressions of unshakable anticipation at his next words. He gulps.
“I don’t want to like them...but I do. A lot.” Denki smiles dreamily, picturing your glowing image. “A whole lot...I really don’t deserve them. Y/N is amazing... talented, and pretty, and passionate- and they’ve always been there for me. I only recently realized my feelings, but they make me kind of... scared.“
Bakugo gags. “Barf.” Kirishima elbows him, turning to Kaminari with a look of surprise and wonder.
“Holy cow, you’re in deep!” Denki snaps out of his stupor, his face going redder.
“I’ll say!” Mina has a sinister sort of look on her face. “Now that’s love.”
“You guys, it’s not like it’s super serious. You know, just a passing crush-“
“It’s not like you to get hung up on someone. All that talk about being scared- I mean, it has to mean something, right? And the way you talk about Y/N...I don’t know Denki, sounds pretty serious to me,” Sero mutters, masking his concern with a few nervous chuckles. Denki rises up from his seat, clenching his jaw and rubbing his neck. “I don’t know guys...I’ve just been really confused lately.” Tension fills the air as he sighs, eyes down. “I think I’m gonna go for a walk.”
“Are you sure...?”
“It’s rather late.”
Denki brushes his hand on the door handle, turning back to attempt another smile. There’s melancholy in it; a heart wrenching conflict. “I’ll be fine. I just need some air.”
These days, you miss him.
Denki had always been your best friend. The shoulder to cry on, your partner in crime. And yet, you hadn’t seen him for what felt like a month.
What happened?
You bite your lip, shivering in the night air. You had noticed Kaminari being a little too distant, like he had outgrown you. In your head, there was never a doubt that he wasn’t the greatest person in your life.
There was no trouble in reading him. Except now. What you would give for just a second in his head...
You look up at the moon, a softly glowing force in the midst of the pitch-black sky. You had been lingering on your way to the dorms, lost in thought. At least you had finished your project. But there was nobody to celebrate with. Well, ideally it would be Denki, but the guy was MIA. Not answering your calls, giving you short texts that ran along the lines of “sorry, I’m busy training.” It felt like you were being left behind. Maybe that’s for the better.
You clutch your shoulders, trying to generate some warmth. You had sworn to yourself years ago that you’d never tell Denki your true feelings, out of fear that you’d hold him back. Those efforts may have been in vain, considering how much time he flirted with people...but nevertheless. Who were you to complicate things? You laugh bitterly to yourself.This is what you wanted, right? For him to succeed without you as a burden...even if that is true, why do I feel so lonely?
You feel some tears prick at your eyes, then allow them to fall in a thick stream. Lucky for you, the campus was deserted this late. Nobody would see you in such a humiliating position.
“Y/N?”
Shit.
Rushing to wipe away your tears, you feel a familiar hand on your shoulder.
Denki turns you to face him, his face shrouded with concern.
“Were you crying?”
You rub at your eyes more, trying to push out a laugh.
“No! Just some allergies.”
Denki slowly wipes away a stray tear, his fingers lingering near your cheekbone. You feel your face going warm.
“You don’t have to lie to me, I know you.”
You offer him a tired sniffle, lightly punching his shoulder. “Ha.”
The two of you slump down on a nearby bench, enjoying the quiet for a moment. In a way, it was almost as if things had never changed.
“...So, do you want to talk about it?”
You flinch. “Not particularly.”
Denki shrugs, shedding his coat and wrapping it around your shoulders. “That’s fine.”
You breathe in his scent, starting to feel apathetically bold. Just come out and say it Y/N.
“Denki, why have you been ignoring me?”
You focus on the ground, never daring to meet his face. Your words are a broken-hearted whisper, and you begin hiccuping through tears again. “It sounds so stupid when I say it out loud, but... I miss you.”
Denki stumbles to hug you, pulling you close to his chest. You feel his heartbeat, as well as a small shudder of tears.
“Y/N... I’m sorry. I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”
You hug him back. “No. I am.”
Suddenly, he laughs, breathing into your hair. “I guess we’re both idiots, huh?”
You pull back, gripping his hand. He sighs, and you notice how tired he looks. “Y/N...I guess I’ve been avoiding you because I like you.” He flushes, a shade so bright it almost glows in the dark night. You blink, somewhat flustered as you watch him look away, just focusing on your hand holding his.
“Denki..”
“I don’t expect you to like me back or anything! We’re childhood friends, so it’s only natural-“
“Denki-“
“And I mean, you have your own life, too. You might not even want to date a hero or-“
“Denki!”
He freezes, finally meeting your gaze. You blush. “We really are idiots, huh?” You murmur, drawing closer to him. “I like you too. I have for... God... Since middle school?” He stutters, eyes wide. “Really?”
“Really.”
He softens, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it gently. He gives you one of his signature smiles- something you haven’t seen in a long while- and you lean in to kiss him, a sweet and loving peck on the lips, which he doesn’t expect. When you draw back, meeting his eyes, the way they sparkle is truly something to behold.
“Denki?”
“Oh my god.”
“Are you-“
“We kissed!”
“Hah! Yeah, we did.”
“Oh my god.” He grabs your shoulders. “Are we dating?!”
“I- I think so.”
His grin widens, akin to a Cheshire Cat. He gives you a coy wink, suddenly bursting with giddiness and confidence.
“I guess we just have...a spark.”
“...Oh my god.”
“What?”
“How am I attracted to you.”
“Hey!” He pulls you close to him, rubbing your hands to make sure they’re warm. “I don’t know either,” he hums, stroking your head. “But I’m sure lucky you do.”
Synopsis: You’ve got a past of being a delinquent, but you’ve made it into UA with a promising future regardless. Perhaps your most daunting competition, among all your peers is the hotheaded Bakugo Katsuki, equally infamous for his emboldened and against-the-grain demeanor. You two are hot and cold opposites, but your shared experiences as supposed “delinquency” make for a strangely mutual rapport.
You take a deep breath, pulling the box close to your chest. Katsuki’s house was pretty nice. Well, it was normal. Sometimes you forgot he was just a regular kid, like you. You had an image in your head of him sleeping in the woods like a feral animal. How else would one explain his general scruffiness? It simply made the most sense. In fact, it made a little more sense than Mr. Lord Explosion Murder residing in the midst of modern suburbia.
For some reason, there’s a nervousness attached to being on the Bakugo family’s doorstep. You can’t quite pin it down, but you feel your heart fluttering in your chest. Why am I so nervous? I’m just dropping off a cake. Unbeknownst to Katsuki, you had brought along a friend- what you called backup.
“Are you going to knock?” asks Izuku, tilting his head to the side.
“Oh, right,” you mutter, your fist hovering over the door. You give three firm knocks, and wait.
You didn’t know what you expected. Izuku told you not to worry too much, that Mitsuki and Masaru were basically family to him. But the gentle face that greeted you once you opened the door was so...not Bakugo that it threw you for a loop.
“Hello?” The feeble-hearted man you could only assume to be Masaru Bakugo looks between you and your curly-haired acquaintance. Midoriya starts.
“Long time, no see, Mr. Bakugo! This is a friend of mine and Kacchan’s.” he gestures to you. When you don’t respond for a moment, he gives you a light shove, which dispelled the shock for a moment.
“Y/N Y/LN. Nice to meet you.” You extend a hand to Masaru (a custom you were getting better with, thanks to Iida) and he takes it, giving it a gentle shake.
“It’s nice of you to drop by Izuku, but why so suddenly?”
“Oh! Kacchan asked a favor from Y/N. She’s just dropping something off, I’m here to accompany her.”
Surprise flickered across the man’s face. “Oh really?” He gives you a small smile. “Katsuki asked someone for help?”
“Eh, Honey, what’s taking so long?!” An oddly familiar voice echoes from inside the house. A voice that sounds distinctly...Bakugo. Masaru sighs, looking back at you.
“Would you two like to come in for a bit?” You blink for a moment, casting a glance to Izuku, who shrugs, smiling.
“I don’t see why not!”
What was it that Bakugo had said? In then out, don’t talk to them...well, while you didn’t want to betray his trust, you doubted that you’d get another opportunity to sit down and chat it up with his parents. Hell, if you were lucky, they’d break out the baby pictures and you’d have the perfect leverage. Beyond being close with his childhood friend/greatest enemy, of course. You feel a sinister glee at the opportunity to tease him while settling into their couch. Masaru disappears into the kitchen.
“Oh Izuku! Who’s this?” You turn your head, locking eyes with an intimidating blonde woman that you had no doubt was Katsuki’s mother. They had the same impossible hair, stance, and demeanors- though, Mitsuki was much more amicable than her temperamental son. With her hands on her hips, she examines you, letting out a soft hum. “Your girlfriend?” She tuts, a glimmer of mischief in her eye.
Izuku stutters, going red. “No! No, no Y/N is just a good friend of mine and Kacchan.” Mitsuki draws back, dropping onto the seats across from you. “Really? Katsuki has a gal pal now...” she shakes her head, muttering under her breath. “Runt never told me.”
“You know how he is.” Mr. Bakugo enters with a tray of tea, setting it down on the table.
“Well, I’m just here to drop this off. He says it’s for your anniversary, so,” you carefully set down the box on the table, like an offering to some gods. “Um. Happy anniversary.”
Mitsuki and Masaru look at you, and then one another for a moment, perplexed. Mitsuki groans, rubbing her brow. “It’s actually tomorrow...that kid’s hopeless.” Masaru chuckles, putting the cake off to the side and pouring you a cup of tea. “Regardless, I’m happy that we could meet you, Y/N. Katsuki doesn’t talk about his school life that much.”
Izuku waves his hands about. “Oh, don’t pour me one, I have to meet someone soon.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Who?”
“Ah, don’t worry. It’s just some extra training I’ve got to do.” He rushes to change the subject. “But I can stay and chat for a little bit! Y/N here is really good friends with Kacchan. They get along great!”
You silently roll your eyes. Really good friends? Come on, Deku.
“That’s rather a surprising.”
You lift your head, taking a sip of the tea. It’s nice and warm, a calming herbal blend. “Why do you say that?”
Mitsuki laughs. “Oh honey, I never imagined that Katsuki would even make good friends with kids his age. Much less a pretty girl like yourself.”
“Thank you.”
“So, how exactly do you know Katsuki?” She asks, and suddenly you feel as if you’re being interviewed. You straighten up, civilized as ever. If you couldn’t be exceedingly friendly, you could at least work on your manners. It would help keep the delinquency at bay.
“We’re all in the same class. Bakugo trains with me, too. And tutors me.”
Mitsuki and Masaru nod on, intrigued. “You’re the one he tutors?” Mitsuki contemplates. “You don’t seem like you need it.”
Masaru sighs. “I’m sorry about her, Y/N.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I do really need it. Besides, it’s not like he let me say no.” You laugh to yourself. “He basically dragged me all the way to the library.”
The Bakugo’s pause for a moment. Even Deku looks somewhat shocked, his attention fully drawn to you.
“So, he...he offered to do it first? You didn’t ask him?”
“Oh, no. Not at all. He was rather insistent.”
Mitsuki frowns, looking over to Midoriya. “Are you positive that she’s friends with Katsuki? Because that sure doesn’t sound like my son.”
Deku laughs at the question, but you take note of the fact that it only seemed like she was half-joking. You realized two things:
1.) Katsuki Bakugo did not help anyone.
2.) Katsuki Bakugo does not change so easily.
And he had broken such fundamental characterization that it perplexed his own mother.
You brush off these thoughts for now. The parents (who you felt a strange need to impress) chatter on and on about childhood stories while Midoriya adds to the mix with his own experiences with Katsuki. You can’t help but laugh at some of them. If this is the Bakugo household, you wondered how in the world the blonde hothead had turned out the way that he was. His parents were exceedingly normal, and beyond that, caring. It was cute.
Around four-o-clock, Midoriya rises, bidding an apologetic farewell.
“-I don’t want to keep All Mi-my! My...uh, friend waiting!” He waves goodbye, taking off running just as the door shuts behind him. Mitsuki glances at you.
“Does he have a girlfriend Inko doesn’t know about?”
“Not that I know of.”
She shrugs. You stand up, smoothing out your uniform. “I better get going, too. Thank you for the tea, Mr. and Mrs. Bakugo.”
“It’s no problem Y/N. And please?”
You turn to look at Mitsuki, who softly pats a hand on your shoulder. “Take good care of Katsuki, okay? He’s a good guy...but he really needs someone looking out for him. I think he’s lucky to have a friend like you.”
You smile, warmth filling your chest. “I’ll do my best.”
———————————————————————
“OI, IDIOT, WHAT DID YOU DO?!” Bakugo is stomping towards you, his rage so intense that it feels like he’s warping the environment around him. You swear, flowers seem to wilt a bit when he passes by. Bakugo grabs you by the collar, forcefully slamming his head into yours in an attempt to intimidate you. It doesn’t work.
“What are you talking about, Bakugo?” You reply, calm as ever.
“I know you pulled some shit with my parents yesterday. Tell me why the old hag keeps telling me we’d make a bang-up couple?” He gags. You cringe. Mitsuki...
“Bakugo, I didn’t think-“
“Because you two would!” Both of you snap your heads towards a familiar horned figure- Mina, cupping her hands against her mouth to amplify her voice, standing with the others across the courtyard. A cheeky grin adorns her face, alongside the collective snickers of your classmates. You suddenly become aware of your proximity to Bakugo. It seems that he does as well, a curious shade of pink reaching his ears as he unceremoniously drops you on the ground.
“SHUT THE HELL UP, RACCOON EYES!!”
You dust yourself off, catching his shoulder before he causes a scene.
“Ignore her. It’s not like that.” Bakugo’s eyes widen. This is the first time he’s seen you look...embarrassed? He finds his heart quickening at your slightly blushing face and the way you shyly look down at your shoes. Cute...
“Let’s just get to class, okay?” Almost unable to tear his eyes away from you, he wordlessly nods, leading the way to your classroom.
You fidget with your clothes, your bag, your hands, somewhat on edge. Before you enter the room, you pull Bakugo off to the side.
“Listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t think that she’d come to that conclusion. We just sat down and drank tea.”
Bakugo cocks an eyebrow. “What’d you talk about?”
“Well, you, I guess,” you give him an evil grin. “You didn’t tell me that you wet the bed until you were eleven.”
Bakugo turns an impressive shade of red, jaw tightly clenched. “I didn’t think it to be pertinent information!” He kicks down the door, stomping to his seat. You settle down next to him, silently chuckling at the fact that he looked so unnecessarily brooding.
“But really, Bakugo,” you say, sincerity in your voice. “You have pretty nice parents.”
Bakugo gives you an odd stare. He snorts. “You kiddin’? They’re so goddamn doting that it’s annoying.”
He expected you to rebute him. To tell him, ‘You shouldn’t talk about them that way. They do all they can for you, blah blah blah’. Go ahead, say that he’s wrong; he’s heard it all before. But instead, you look down at your hands.
“I know the feeling,” you mumble. A response he did not anticipate. Putting a pin in this conversation, he grunts as an answer, arms crossed and eyes forward as the lesson begins.
But your words hung thick in his head. You were the unshakable combat-trained badass with a strange penchant for kindness. The epitome of strength, and hell, he thought that was cool. He’d never have the heart to try to be sociable like you were, or perhaps he simply didn’t care to be. But regardless, you never really gave him this vulnerable, girlish side. It was jarring to see you quit being perfectly cool for one moment, to see the unfazed delinquent stopped in her tracks over something so trivial. He noticed it on occasion, like those rare times you’d laugh at a joke (well it was more of a cackle, but he found it endearing) or tuck away a strand of hair. But this was the most he ever saw at once, and while strange, he couldn’t say he didn’t like it.
The sports festival blinked on the horizon. That’s where his focus would be on the time being, rather than this strange feeling he had towards you. I mean, you were supposed to be his rival. He needed to concern himself with getting better.
Right?
He grimaces. These days, you’re awfully soft...
And he was noticing it more and more. He prays that it doesn’t complicate things, sensing this strange feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. It’s almost pleasant.
Synopsis: You’ve got a past of being a delinquent, but you’ve made it into UA with a promising future regardless. Perhaps your most daunting competition, among all your peers is the hotheaded Bakugo Katsuki, equally infamous for his emboldened and against-the-grain demeanor. You two are hot and cold opposites, but your shared experiences as supposed “delinquency” make for a strangely mutual rapport.
Note: This is going to be long. I can’t really give an estimate of chapters, but there’s quite a lot to pack in here. A slow burn, if you will. -K.
Truthfully, you weren’t a very academic student.
That much likely encouraged the idea that you were a no nonsense, cool little delinquent, but it was mostly due to the fact that you were a bit of a lazybones.
Sure, you could throw a punch and hold your own in a fight, but the minute your teacher starts droning on about the hero-vigilante theory, you drop like a fly. Full coma.
And it’s goddamn annoying to Bakugo, because guess who has to put up with your snoring all day long. In general, he’s not really a fan of people who don’t put their all into things. So naturally, he makes every effort he can to make sure you don’t fall asleep. Which mostly includes wordlessly smacking you upside the head with a rolled up book whenever you look even a little bit drowsy. You don’t complain, at least it gave you even less remorse when fighting against him.
Your matches were truly something to behold, and sometimes they’d last until sunset, Bakugo’s explosions often visible for miles. Beneath the surface, there was a lot of bubbling resentment between the two of you.
Bakugo was hot-headed, brash, loud, and downright evil sometimes.
He didn’t like the fact that you were insanely aloof, blunt, unfazed, and (perhaps your most egregious sin of all) friends with Deku.
But All Might be damned if you two didn’t respect each other.
Not that either of you would ever say such a thing out loud, but the understanding was there. You discussed proper forms, even taught him the basics of a couple of martial arts, and he would suggest ways to utilize your quirk to the fullest. But outside of that, Bakugo never allowed you the grace of forming a friendship. Not even an inch, probably out of fear you’d take a mile. You stood in the awkward acquaintance area with him for some time, despite the impeccable teamwork you two displayed during the USJ Attacks at the beginning of the year. He had been there to cover you, and you returned the favor. But still, no small talk, no smiles of acknowledgment, not even mutual nods. It was a situation everyone found strange, especially taking into account the strides you were making socially.
Imagine your suprise when exams are fast approaching, and Blondie offers to tutor you. Well, perhaps offer was putting it lightly. You had been sitting at your desk after school, reading your favorite manga, when Bakugo stomps towards you with his usual gremlin-like gait, a large book bag tossed over his shoulder.
“Oi, Freak.”
“Hey, Bakugo.” He scoffs, jerking his head towards the door.
“C’mon. We’re going to the library.” You look up at him curiously.
“Why do I have to come along?” You inquire, tapping your book shut.
“Because your grades are goddamn near tanking, and it won’t kill you to open a book for once.” His eyes catch on your manga. “That doesn’t have pictures.”
You sigh, draping over your desk.
“I’m tired. Let’s go another time.” Bakugo tries to pull you off, fighting against your will as you stubbornly cling to the seat. A vein pops out of his forehead, and once again, he’s sporting a comically exaggerated expression. “YOU ARE STUDYING OR SO HELP ME GOD!” He yells, blasting at your ankles. You yelp, plopping onto the floor, facedown and groaning. “Fine.”
And that, perhaps, led to even more heightened tensions between you. Bakugo wasn’t the patient type of teacher, and the two of you often dissolved into shouting fits over a problem. Bakugo doing most of the shouting, of course. That got you kicked out of the library more than once. It showed in school as you actively attacked his personality to his face or offered snarkyily blunt retorts to nearly everything he said.
“Oi, Wake up, moron.”
“I wasn’t asleep.”
“Sure you weren’t.”
“Eat my ass.”
The clashing surprised absolutely no one. This sort of interaction was fated to be as soon as people had a grasp on your dynamics.
Still, you two were getting stronger and your own grades were improving. That had to mean something.
“Y/N, you and Bakugo are awfully close, huh?”
You lift your eyes from the floor that you’re sitting cross-legged on, confused.
“What makes you say that, Mina?” The girls had been discussing crushes or something like that, winding down on a Friday evening. You had only been halfway paying attention, instead spacing out while picking at the furry rug at your feet. Somehow, Ochako had convinced you that a sleepover would be fun.
Mina giggles, elbowing Hagakure as she rolls over on her bed. “You two train together. And he tutors you, right?” You shrug. “Yeah, I guess so. But we’re not really friends.”
Momo gives you a quizzical look. “I’d think the opposite, Y/N,” she says, preoccupied with a book. “You two really seem comfortable together.”
“It’s sort of uncanny, for someone like Bakugo!”
Asui, in her cheerfully blunt way, muses on- “I’d say their bickering is like that of an old married couple.” You shake your head. “I disagree. I really hate Bakugo.”
The others laugh, charmed by such a deadpan delivery. You feel flustered as they go in to hug and coddle you and chatter about how adorable you are.
“Huh? But I really meant it, guys.”
“Sure, sure Y/N. Jirou, I was wondering about you and Denki, too!~”
“Eh?”
Satisfied that the conversation had moved away from you, you return to staring off into space. To be honest, you did want to be friends with Bakugo- he was stubborn, in a good way. He demeaned you, but only wanted you to better. Perhaps, in a strange way, your relationship was sort of friendly.
But you noticed him rejecting your advances to carry on conversations, keeping you at arm’s length metaphorically and physically, and refusing to hang out with you in any capacity less than professional. Granted, neither of you were well-versed in social interaction, but something about his avoidance felt... intentional. Whether he knew it or not. He probably viewed you as a high-quality punching bag that sometimes punched back before seeing you as an actual person.
You try to shrug this off. It doesn’t bother me.
But it kind of did. At least autonomous punching bag was a step up from damsel, though.
But one day, while studying for the upcoming exam, you finish a practice test. Bakugo looks back and forth between your test and the answer key, his brow furrowed ever so slightly. He sets them down, begrudgingly meeting your eyes. “You got them all right.”
“I guess I have a halfway decent teacher,” you quip. He gives you one of those lopsided, toothy grins of his. “Tch! Damn straight.” You both smile for a little bit, sort of proud. Toying with the front of your shirt, you come to a quick realization.
“What do I have to give you, Bakugo?” You ask suddenly.
“Hah?”
“I mean,” you muse on. “How can I... repay you for your help?” He gives you a bewildered stare.
“What are you yammering about, idiot? You don’t have to give me anything.”
“It wouldn’t feel right. You help me with training and stuff, but you don’t get anything out of tutoring me.”
“Peh!! Bold of you to think I get anything out of training with you.”
“Don’t act like you don’t. If anything, you get more out of our spars than I do.”
“Oh really?? Well, last time I checked, I wasn’t the one who crawled back to ask for a rematch.”
“A rematch after a round that I won. Just let me pay you or something.” You dig through your bag for your wallet.
Bakugo catches your arm, staring you down with a firm glare. “No.” You wiggle free, cursing his too-strong grip as you rub your wrist.
“Why not?”
“You’re my friend, moron!” He snipes. You’re surprised, but it only barely shows. Bakugo had become better at reading you, and his heart sinks when he realizes that you’re genuinely astounded.
“I am?”
“Is that so hard to believe?!”
“A little,” you admit, not even with a trace of hesitation. “I thought you hated me.”
Bakugo sighed huffily. “Yeah, well, I do,” he retorted, punching your shoulder. “More than most people.”
“Eh? Then how could we be friends?”
Bakugo shrugs, crossing his arms. “You’re okay sometimes.” When you still seem confused, he grumbles. “Your guts are...acceptable. As is your fighting.”
You stare, unsure what to say. I guess I did misread him. Bakugo was bad at communication, you were bad at picking up on social cues. If you didn’t have any inhibitions or dignity, your quirk would probably have been useful. But thoughts deserved to be private. It was only respectful.
In retrospect, it sort of made sense- the teasing between you wasn’t truly malicious, just something born out of rivalry. Bakugo had that way about him. The kind of air that made you want to do better. But you couldn’t help but think he was holding back.
“You too,” you finally settle on, patting Bakugo’s elbow. You swear that you almost catch a soft smile.
“Whatever.” For a moment, you two simmer in silence. The library is pretty near closing time, with only a couple of students milling about. The fluorescent lights flicker. Bakugo lifts his head up suddenly, a look of morbid annoyance on his face.
“Ugh, actually, I do have a favor to ask you.”
“What? Me?”
“The fuck did I just say?” He sneered. “I’ll text you my address.”
“What for?”
“For the favor, idiot!”
“Yes but what’s the favor?!”
He stops for a bit, jaw tight, like he doesn’t want to say anything out loud. Finally, he carefully removes a hastily wrapped package from his bag, plopping it down before you.
“Drop this off for my parents, would ya?”
“Eh? Why?” He fiddles with the wrapping, adjusting here and there.
“Shitty hair roped me into something. We’re having a... sleepover.” You snort as he continues. “I’m not heading home tomorrow, and this is their anniversary present.” He taps the box. You look it over, examining the package. It was pretty big, but its presentation wasn’t anything to write home about.
“What is it?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Yes, actually. Friend.” You hiss out the last word teasingly. Bakugo feigns annoyance, but cracks open the box, and you let out a small gasp. You marvel at the beautiful, intricate sugar work upon an elegant cake. Red frosting roses accentuate spiraling calligraphy that reads “Happy Anniversary!” The thing is immaculately crafted, and it’s obvious that whoever made it had an uncanny attention to detail. You look at the cake then at Bakugo, then back at the cake. “You made this?” You ask, trying to hide the disbelief in your voice.
“Duh.”
“I didn’t know you could bake.”
He leans back in the chair. “I got some advice from Sato earlier today. I’m better at cooking,” he growls.
“Still, this is beautiful.”
“Whatever. Don’t mess up the delivery.” He rises, lazily slinging his bag over his shoulder and giving you a glance. “And whatever you do...do not talk to them. Get out of there as soon as possible.”
You lift up the box with care, gathering your thoughts. “I didn’t take you for such a softie, Bakugo.”
“Shut up.”
“No but really. It’s...sweet.”
“It’s only because my mom gets on my ass if I forget a gift. And I don’t want to deal with that.”
“Sure.”
“Well. Bye.”
You clutch the gift on your way home, overly nervous and cautious. Perhaps there was more to Bakugo than he let on. But most of all, there was a sprinkle of joy held within you as you trudged through the dark streets. The fact that he gave you this task, called you his friend—
He trusted you. And that felt pretty good, especially when most people were wary about that kind of thing. Having a quirk that was easy to abuse meant you had to work twice as hard to earn people’s trust. Hell, Midoriya and co. still tip-toed around you and the girls joked about it in a way that reminded you how close you were to being a villain. But with Bakugo, he never mentioned your quirk in any other sense but how it could help people. That, perhaps, might have been the most valuable friend you had. Even if he was the most emotionally distant. You examine the cake box once again. I hope you’ll let me in, Katsuki. If we really are friends...
Here is an actual request if you’re okay with it ☺️
Maybe a story where katsu’s crush from class 1-A gets kidnapped and they don’t find her for over a year. Which by then class 1-A has graduated and all become pro hero’s.
Then Katsuki finally finds her on one of his missions?
Note: This is really becoming a Bakugo fanfic blog huh? I’m not complaining, he’s a very fun boy. -K.
“Bakugo!”
He remembered it. Your sobbing, the fear in your voice, your cries of pain. He saw the rubble, the overcast sky, every little thing rendered with terrifying accuracy. He looked down at his hands. Why was he back here? An uneasy feeling reveled in the pit of his stomach. You cry out again, your shouts solitary and panicked. Lighting courses through his veins, and without an ounce of hesitation, he takes off running. He had to find you.
His lungs burn as he navigates the field, his heart pounding in his head, eyes darting back and forth with frenzied panic as he scans the ruins. Y/N, where are you? The rubble morphs into a terrifying maze, and he feels a cold sweat drip down his back. Bakugo hears you call out his name again and again, and fears the worst, turning around-
There you were, standing in front of him with that faraway look in your eyes. Your eyes... those goddamn eyes haunted him ever since. He reached out to you, tried to call you name-
But you slipped right through his fingers. His throat was tight; nothing came out. And you just stared at him, unblinking, lips ever so slightly parted.
“Why Katsuki? Why couldn’t you have saved me?”
Your voice is accusatory, bitter, and so unlike everything that he knew about you... yet it felt so real.
Bakugo feels a dryness in his mouth as he shouts to you, his voice cracking. It was if a dam burst, and he sobs, sinking to his knees. “I tried!” He curses, watching you turn your back to him, and as he reaches out his hand to catch your wrist, he jolts awake.
Katsuki pants, heaving up and down. Sweat rolls down his forehead. It had felt way too real. He sighs, checking the clock. 4 am. Great. Should he even be surprised? He rises, pulling open his curtains and preparing for the day ahead, your face still fresh in his mind
Bakugo hadn’t gotten a good night’s rest since your disappearance, almost two years ago. Hell, he wondered how anyone from 1-A did. They had been there, too- that fateful day of the school festival, everyone riled up to celebrate the fact that it was their last one before graduation. And of course, something had to go wrong.
Your quirk was invaluable and insanely powerful: controlling probability. If you stockpiled enough energy, you could exert it to tip the scales to someone’s advantage, which could range from boosting the probability of rolling a six on a die...or boosting the probability of someone winning a fight. It worked better when more specific and focused, however.
You had gained a lot of attention from having such an interesting quirk, but some of it turned out to be pretty...bad. Including a plucky group of villains who had been able to capture you during the school festival. The brawl had moved to the city, after Bakugo sent one of the dudes careening into the side of a building with a skillful explosion. Pros urged him to evacuate, but he didn’t listen. He couldn’t have, not when you had been among the ones to save him when he had been kidnapped.
But you weren’t as lucky.
They got away with you. Bakugo remembered the look on your face as you were whisked away into thin air. Gone without a trace, slipped through his fingers.
The search was an ordeal that was significantly harder than his own. The group that had kidnapped you was pretty underground. This, in fact, was their first major crime.
So that left police with no leads, no identification, and no evidence whatsoever. The case went cold. Not a day went by when Bakugo didn’t think of you. His graduation had been somber, Class 1-A collectively on edge together for the rest of the year. Y/N, the promising rising star, so obviously on track to becoming a powerful hero— snuffed out just like that. There was rage, there were tears, there was silence. But now, they had to move on. They were adults, pro-heroes who needed to focus on bigger things. He growled. Yeah, right.
It was no secret among his peers that he liked you. After that incident, many pitied him and the way he kept his head down and his jaw clenched. They didn’t speak up when he lost his temper, they didn’t point out that he was easier to piss off than usual, and they didn’t try to stop him when he’d curse a disproportionate amount at some inanimate object that had wasn’t working right. They knew his pain. Despite him never opening up to anyone, they knew. Bakugo immersed himself in his ambition; training and fighting being the only “healthy” outlet he had. By the time he left UA, he was already in the top ten and slowly forming an agency. He kept an old bulletin board dedicated to your case, spending months trying to track you. Everyone considered him crazy for refusing to let go. But that never stopped him.
His phone rings, and he groans, seeing the contact. Nevertheless, he answers, forcefully brushing the phone against his ear.
“Deku?!”
“Ah! Kacchan, I need to ask for your help on a case.”
Bakugo rubs his temples, annoyed just at the sound of his childhood friend’s voice.
“Heh? Like I would help you, nerd!”
Deku’s voice takes on a graver tone, somewhat faltering. “I think you’d want to after you hear this guy’s MO.”
“Yeah right.”
“No, listen. You remember-“ Deku pauses a moment, hesitating as he chokes back his words. His voice is strained over the phone, betraying some sort of feeling that leaves Bakugo on edge. “You remember Y/N?” Deku continues.
Bakugo bites his lip, brow furrowed with anguish. Internally, he thanks whatever higher power there is that his old friend can’t see his face.
“How could I forget?” He mumbles.
“Well,” Deku breathes, his tone still solemn. “This guy- eyewitness reports say he vanishes into thin air. Literally. He’s been spotted all over the prefecture, mostly dealing in theft, but the most recent case they’ve linked him to is the kidnapping of a Shiketsu boy. Promising kid. The cases also match up with your research, too. I know it’s a stretch-“
Bakugo looks at the old bulletin board placed above his bed, bitter recollection filling his head. “I’m in.”
“Eh? You are?”
“Yes, you shitty nerd! Just brief me on the course of attack. Bastard won’t know what hit him.” He prays that Deku won’t catch on to the trembling intensity of his words. He didn’t need anyone else’s pity, much less Deku’s. What he needed was to find you.
“...You know it might not be him, right? And even if it is, there’s no guarantee...?”
Bakugo tenses, and the line is silent for a moment. His palms are suddenly heavy, weary with exhaustion. He sighs, frustration in a single breath.
“Goddamn it, I know that. But I have to try, Deku.” His voice cracks, shaky but firm. “I owe it to her.”
Deku is quiet. The air is thick—almost suffocating. And finally, he responds.
“Then, drop by my agency this evening. There’s a lot to cover.”
———————————————————————
“Peh. So this is the place.”
Bakugo looks up at the building. It was modest, but classy. Respectable,especially with its prime location. Not that he’d let Deku know.
He’s escorted into a conference room, eyeing the place up and down. His face contorts into dramatic anger when he locks eyes with none other than Todoroki Shouto.
“WHAT’S ICY-HOT DOING HERE?!”
Bakugo grabs Midoriya by the collar, his eye twitching and his fist poised. Deku starts sputtering like a dying fish, waving his hands around.
“Kacchan- he was interested in the mission, too! And it’s not like we can’t use his help-“
“YES WE CAN! WE DON’T NEED HIM!”
“But he might be useful! He’s a top ranking hero too, you know-“
“THAT DOESN’T MEAN HE’LL BE USEFUL!”
Bakugo reels back his arm, ready to blast Deku’s ass into the stratosphere. Todoroki appears behind him, cool as ever.
“Bakugo,” Shouto begins, gently setting a hand on his shoulder. “She was my friend, too.”
Bakugo pauses, his violent persona sufficiently diffused. He loosens his grip on Midoriya, casting Todoroki a wayward glare. Shouto returns it with his own determined eyes. “Tch. Whatever. Let’s get on with this.”
They settle into seats, Midoriya wheeling in a large whiteboard with meticulous notes dotted all over it.
“First and foremost, I guess I should start with the fact that we’ll also be joined by Uravity, Red Riot, and Froppy,” Midoriya begins, adjusting a projector.
“Do we really need that many people?”
“In all likelihood, no. But there’s a tip that this guy is linked to some bigger crime ring.” A map charting several misdemeanors flicks onto the board. “So, with backup, we’re better safe than sorry.”
Bakugo slumps in his chair. “What is this, a high school reunion?” He jeers.
Midoriya gives him a wry smile. “I guess you can look at it like that. Thanks to your intel, Kacchan, we were able to track down his ID. I went through some records down at the station, and the guy we’re going after apparently has some sort of molecular rearrangement quirk.”
Todoroki cocks his head. “Sort of like that Yakuza guy? Back with Eri?”
“Sort of. But the point is, it allows him to disappear covertly. Really covertly. He just needs to break down his body and his target to their smallest forms and he can manipulate and transport them without a trace. Disappearing into thin air.”
“That sounds awfully familiar,” Todoroki notes, giving Bakugo a quick glance. Bakugo snorts in response, recalling your disappearance. Thin air, huh?
Midoriya nods. “I have a hunch that...it’s the same guy. But, since there’s no guarantee, let’s not get our hopes up. Let’s just focus on prioritizing the rescue.” He turns his board over, revealing an even more intricate chart on the back. “Let’s go over a plan.”
———————————————————————
The fateful day arrived. Police encircled the building- some dingy joint on the bad side of town that looked like any other dive bar. Bakugo would lead the calvary alongside Kirishima and Todoroki, while Asui and Deku rounded off any potential exits. Uraraka watched from above, surveying the entire scene with bated breath.
Bakugo kicks down the door, poised to attack, and meets the faces of at least twenty other folks. One shouts above the ramble and suddenly all hell breaks loose. People are throwing bottles, attacking at Bakugo and each other- and he catches a glimpse of someone fleeing down a flight of stairs behind the bar.
He pursues, carving through the dense crowd with ease. He flies down the stairwell, greeting darkness almost immediately. Bakugo’s explosions flicker in his hands, casting orange shadows over his face in the dim hall. It’s narrow, and there’s only one way to go. There’s only one thing to do. He takes off running, panting heavily, gritting his teeth. This bastard- the nerve he had. To steal the futures of some promising kids.
The hall opens to a cavernous room, and Bakugo edges along the wall, silently inching forward. He catches a glimpse of a long shadow limping back and forth, pacing with nervous energy. Bakugo grins to himself, prepared to strike, and as the silhouette passes the opening of the hallway, he tackles them, restraints in hand. “DIE!” He sends an explosion to their backside. The villain lets out a sturdy cry of pain and immediately yields. Not that it mattered, the restraints wouldn’t permit the use of his quirk whatsoever.
Bakugo looks the guy up and down, hate filling his chest. He growls, “You’ve got a lot of nerve, you know that?”
The man is silent, not even meeting Bakugo’s fiery eyes. Bakugo forces his head towards him, watching fear dance in his gaze. He sneers. “You’re just a coward,” he spits.
Kirishima’s footsteps patter through the hall, and the red-haired boy bursts into the room, stumbling upon the scene.
“Bakugo! That’s the guy!” Bakugo tosses the criminal to him, surveying the area. “Take care of it,” he mumbles in his raspy tone. “I’m looking for the victim.”
He approaches a nearby door- old and decrepit, like everything else in the place. With calculated force, he blasts it down, dread forming in the pit of his stomach. The room is dirty and neglected, like some kind of dungeon.
His eyes widen when he sees your face, hollow cheeks and empty eyes chained against the wall alongside a sobbing boy. Shock fills your sunken form, and you utter out his name, a wistful, raspy murmur.
“Katsuki...?”
Bakugo freezes, once again feeling a terrible weight in his chest. He wants to scream, he wants to go to you- but he’s rooted to the spot, disgusted at your treatment...and at himself. Police flood the little room, Midoriya shouting commands and comforting the boy, and everything’s in a haze. But throughout it all, he never tears his eyes from you, despite the clenching he feels in his heart.
You wake up in an unfamiliar hospital bed. The world seems different. Fresh, and new. A small smile forms on your face, and you giggle quietly to yourself, blinking in the gentle light. You examine the room. A clean, white place with a monitor beeping softly in the background. The hum of machines drone on, and to your right-
You gasp, surprised to see the sleeping face of none other than Bakugo Katsuki, slumped down in a chair. Your childhood crush, handsome as ever. Halos bounced off of the spikes of his hair where the light hit him, leaving him looking like some otherworldly beauty. You laugh to yourself, starting as a small chuckle at this moment- then dissolving into a deep, boisterous and emotional expression of mirth, one that caused tears to form at the corner of your eyes and made you choke over your own joy. It inadvertently woke your spiky-haired hero, who looked down at you, eyes wide and tired.
“Y/N.”
You lift your hand up to him, cupping his face. “Katsuki.”
His jaw clenches, and his eyes go glassy. As he speaks, you feel a sadness, deep and broken, in his heart, and his voice cracks.
“I’m sorry...I’m sorry I couldn’t be faster. That I couldn’t save you-“ he chokes.
“I never lost hope in you.” Bakugo looks into your eyes, and your heart skips a beat with how vulnerable he looks. “I stockpiled energy with the hope that you’d rescue me,” you whisper, brushing away a tear from his face. “I trusted you’d be the one. Out of all of them at UA-“ you smile softly, recalling your high school years. “You were the one I thought of the most. And thinking of you...it gave me hope.” How far away it all seemed. Those days with your friends, training on the field, hoping to be a hero.
“I thought of you, too.” Bakugo grips your hand, as if afraid you’ll disappear again. You pull him into a hug, stroking his trembling form. It felt so good to be in his arms, almost dream like. “Katsuki, I have something to tell you, though,” you murmur. “I had quite the crush on you, back at UA,” you chuckle. He pulls back, still holding you. He brings a calloused hand to your face, drinking in your features. “I did, too,” he admits. You feel butterflies flutter in your stomach, and suddenly it’s as if you’re sixteen again.
“Do you think it’s still there?” You breathe.
He never takes his eyes from yours, and slowly moves in to press his forehead to yours.
“If you do.” You close the distance, placing a kiss on his lips. You drown in his familiar scent, sighing with contentment. Now, this felt like home. Bakugo moves back cautiously, his gentle demeanor and tone never shifting. He brushes a hair away from your face, ever so softly.
“God, you think we can make it work?” He mutters. “You deserve someone who could have saved you on the first try.”
Your brow creases watching Katsuki avert his gaze. You force him to turn his head to you, looking at you straight on. “We have the rest of our lives, Katsuki,” you tell him. “And don’t you dare think that you’ve failed me. You’re the one who tried the hardest. You’re the one who saved me.” Bakugo shrugs.
“I didn’t do it alone.”
You shake your head, beaming. “That’s not what I mean. Holding on to the idea that you’d come— that’s what saved me. I would have died, ages ago if I didn’t carry that hope with me. If I didn’t have that goal to save up my energy to help you find me.”
Bakugo softens beneath your touch, melting as you give him a couple of pecks. He grips your tiny hand in his, swearing that he’ll never let you go ever again.
Synopsis: You’ve got a past of being a delinquent, but you’ve made it into UA with a promising future regardless. Perhaps your most daunting competition, among all your peers is the hotheaded Bakugo Katsuki, equally infamous for his emboldened and against-the-grain demeanor. You two are hot and cold opposites, but your shared experiences as supposed “delinquency” make for a strangely mutual rapport.
Note: debated on posting this lololoI was gonna work on a multichap for shin but. Inspiration struck me like a bullet and I planned out a whole new fic. Fuck it, ik I just finished a Bakugo multichap, but let’s go none of ya’ll r regulating me lmao -K.
UA High was one of the most prestigious schools in the entire country. Never, in a million years could you have see this coming.
Yes, you always had aspirations of being a hero... but a quirk like yours kept that desire in the realm of fantasy. So naturally, you turned to delinquency. That’s the word the school had used, anyway. You liked to think of it as sticking up for the little guy, though all administrators saw was playground brawls. Your father, a trained military expert, had taught you heaps of hand-to-hand combat techniques since you had basically been able to walk. He wanted to protect his little girl- one child of seven, all boys, all deathly overbearing. It sort of pissed you off that they felt such a crippling desire to keep you safe. Maybe that was part of the reason you became a “young criminal”. To prove you can handle yourself. To prove that people don’t need to get hurt because of you, and that you were just as capable of helping others.
You had mastered much of what your father had taught you, and never stopped training. UA, regardless of whether or not you’d be a hero, was still your dream, and nobody was going to stop you from having it. Not even a delinquent record of stealing, getting into fights, or trespassing would.
The day of the entrance exam shocked everyone. This tiny girl with a mind-reading quirk ranked in the top ten just because of her ability to kick the robots really fucking hard. Most chalked it up to her delinquent persona- which thoroughly peeved you, you were trying to leave that shit behind. The attention it brought you was annoying, but you prayed that your family would at least give you room to breathe after seeing how capable you are. They did not. They fussed over your commute, your uniform, virtually everything. But, you got into the school, and here you were. Standing at the gates entering as a prospective hero. You sighed, scanning the hallway for your classroom. 1-A... ah-hah. You kick down the door carelessly, and come face to face with the rest of your class. Who fall dead silent upon your entrance. Fantastic. We’re off to a lovely start. You wordlessly make your way to a desk next to some angry looking boy, your face never changing and your head held high. You felt their eyes on the back of your neck. Chances are, people were already afraid of you. Fine. You had hoped to shed that criminal image of yourself, but it looks like it would keep following you. You observe your surroundings, slightly tempted to use your quirk. These weren’t a rag-tag rough and tumble bunch- not the crowd you were accustomed to. They were straight-laced, neat and punctual students who probably volunteered in their spare time. You grimace. Fuck. I stick out like a sore thumb.
The others had cordial, happy auras about them: all the girls in the class seemed like perfect unscathed normal teenagers, and among them you were in stark contrast. Perhaps it was your perpetual glare or your foreboding way of carrying yourself or even your disinterest in simply striking up conversation, but you were just plain scary.
Come lunchtime, you anticipated sitting alone. The pop quiz that grubby teacher of yours had given was a breeze, and you managed to pull through as an unintentionally authentic villain. Which only garnered your established avoid-ability factor. You plopped down, prepared to chew, and then looked up at a pair of friendly green eyes.
“You’re Y/N, right?” The boy’s voice trembled, and in an instant you knew virtually everything about him. Most prominently, the fact that he clearly did not know how to talk to a girl.
Munching on your food, you nod. The green boy fidgets in place, pointing his chin to two other students who were approaching. “Do you mind if we sit with you?” He shyly inquires. You shrug, clearing the table to make room, and languidly continue eating. As a sweet looking girl and some uptight boy take their seats at the table, you observe them, locking eyes with the uptight looking one.
“Excuse me, Miss Y/N, but I don’t think you should have your feet up on school property. It’s highly disrespectful!” He chops at the air, seemingly trying to enunciate his point.
You stare back at him. He flinches under your gaze, but you oblige. You hadn’t even noticed that you had kicked up your feet onto the table. “‘M’ bad.” After this, silence is thick overhead. Little miss sunshine and broccoli hair have their heads turned down, clearly nervous as they channel all their energy into focusing on the food. Guilt pangs in your chest. You were probably scaring the shit out of them, or at least making them uncomfortable. Well Y/N, now’s a good a time as any to try and make friends.
“So,” you drawl, wiping away some crumbs with the back of your hand. “Who are you guys again?” They look at you blankly. You feel sweat creep down your neck. Had you fucked up? Social interaction had never really been your strong suit, and these people were looking at you like you had just grown two heads. Prissy-pants straightens up, adjusting his glasses. “Iida Tenya. Pleasure.” He extends his hand to you, and you simply stare at it. He slowly retracts it, his stoicism unshakable. Weird.
“I’m Ochako Uraraka.” The cute one smiles at you, clearly relieved. “You can call me Ochako-chan. If you like.” You think for a moment. “Okay.” You attempt to smile back, but it doesn’t seem to be very effective. All parties present blanche at your too-toothy grin. Trying to move past this lukewarm reception, you cast your eyes to the green one. “And you?” He stutters a bit, turning red. “I-Izuku! Izuku Midoriya!” You nod slowly, trying to run their names through your head again. Iida, Ochako, Izuku ... you keep your eyes trained on your tray, concentrating. “I’m Y/N. By the way.” Iida tosses you a wary glance. “We know.” Slouching back into your seat, you cross your arms, feeling a knot in your stomach. Mr. Peabody probably knew allll about you. “Oh.” Midoriya watches, sympathy crossing his face. He clears his throat, pulling out a notebook from his bag. “So, Y/N, I think that you’re quirk’s really cool! Do you think you could tell me how it works?” You peer up at him, somewhat suprised. He gives you a friendly beam, his excitement palpable. You lean forward. “Okay.”
So began a friendship. Though Iida was hard to win over, you grew on him after a while, Ochako was easy to warm up to, and Izuku could talk to you without looking like he was going to have an aneurysm. Slowly but surely, you began an effort to get to know all of your peers in 1-A. Not to say they weren’t still intimidated by you, but a least now you knew the names of... maybe five of them? You sigh, glancing around at everyone’s faces. You still had a really long way to go, but it’s not like that would diminish your accomplishment. You had three friends!! At once! That was more than you had ever had before.
Your class files out the locker rooms, greeting the tired face of Mr. Aizawa. “Today,” he mumbles. “We’re going to do some paired sparing. Don’t kill each other.” He collapses into his sleeping bag. Everyone else was grouping off, examining the roster Mr. Aizawa had organized. You fell to the back of the line to examine the list, but your partner found you before you were able to.
“Oi, Y/N Y/LN? You’re my partner for the first round.” The voice that greeted your ears was gruff, and the face you turned to matched it perfectly. It was the boy you sat next to in class, his face curled with a masochistic quality. If you recalled, he had some sort of explosion quirk. And Izuku was his childhood friend... what had he called him? Some sort of overly cutesy name that didn’t suit such a rough dude at all.
You join him on the battling ground. The rest of your class looks on, anticipating the clash between the two prominent delinquents of 1-A. As with all your strategies, you wait for the spiky-haired boy to make the first move. That smug, evil grin still on his face never falters. He attacks, lunging for your head. It’s easy to dodge, and your quirk allows you to sense that he’s going for a fake-out. You breathe deeply, swerving to the left as one of his explosions just barely singes your hair. This match would rely on more than quick thinking. Your reflexes had to match to a T. You grab the leg that trails behind him, putting all your might into smacking him onto the floor, but he’s too quick for that. Blondie changes directions with a quick flourish, sending an explosion to your back. YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY THAT EASILY? You wince. Damn, his thoughts were really goddamn loud. You duck, quickly, and push away from him, trying to come up with a strategy. You’re panting heavily as you creep to the very edge of the field. He barely gives you time to think though, and soon enough you sense another one of his headstrong attacks. Your heart is racing. Aim low, Y/N, and you’ve got him.
You run straight for him, sliding into a kick that sweeps him onto his back, then grapple with restraining his arms. He quickly overpowers you, pins you down, and blasts off your face with a yell. You cough, reading his thoughts and realizing that he’s let his guard down. Just as he reels his fist back, you kick straight up, launching his body over you, and make quick work of lassoing the restraining tape around his arms while he’s still in the air. You tighten it as he makes impact with the ground, watching him slide across the gravel and writhe against his restraints. The hothead curses, throwing every insult he can at you with a truly remarkable expression.
“Y/N wins. Next group,” Aizawa grumbles. The restraints loosen, and Blondie wipes away some dirt on his face, an angry scowl adorning it. You fan yourself, trying to catch your breath. This guy, unlike most of your opponents, did not hold back. Finally. Someone who didn’t seem to underestimate you because of your stature or appearance, or just because you were a girl. You knew it to be true; there were no second thoughts in whatever he did, only pure commitment. You needed an opponent like that. Despite your scary reputation, people still felt the need to go easy on you- every time you read a mind, it was obvious they were giving you the high ground due to the way you looked, and it was infuriating. You got enough of that at home, hell, enough of that your whole life. Those same thoughts you heard again and again—
“She’s so tiny...”
“It feels wrong to beat up a girl.”
“I shouldn’t go all out. I might hurt her.”
Musing to yourself, you decide to ask the old grouch if he wanted to be your training partner. And maybe your friend? You shake your head. He’s probably not in the business for that. Even his thoughts had foul language. Looking over your shoulder, you see he’s already walking away from the rest of the crowd, making his way out of sight. “Excuse me!” You call, but he doesn’t turn back. Well, fair enough, you didn’t know his name. What was it that Deku called him? Kachow? Kit-Kat? Ka-something? You snap your fingers. “Kacchan!” You exclaim, mostly out of realization. Blondie freezes, and you can feel irritation just radiating off of him, even though his back is to you. Izuku lets out an ‘eep!’ And everyone else seems to be in a state of shock and beyond that- fear. You frown. Had you said something wrong? Perhaps ‘Kacchan’ was an endearment thing, but at least you had gotten his attention. He shouldn’t mind that much. Honorifics were bull anyway. The guy stiffly turns to you, an exaggerated face full of rage so cartoonish you almost want to laugh at it. “What. Did you say, moron?!” An explosion forms in his palm as he charges towards you. You dodge it, tripping him in order to keep him from burning down the entire field. “Kac-“
“DON’T FUCKING CALL ME THAT!” He yells, sending an explosion into your face. Again. He shoots up, lunging for Izuku. Aizawa just narrowly stops him. “WAS IT YOU DEKU?? HUH?? YOU TOLD HER TO CALL ME THAT?” He struggles against the tape, frothing at the mouth. You huff, clearing away the smoke. Well, maybe “Kacchan” wasn’t a form of endearment. He was treating it like an insult. Once the guy’s released and grumbling in a seat, you settle down next to him. “Fine. What should I call you?”
“Tch. Kiss my ass.”
You sighed. Struggling to converse with him, you press on. “I was just going to ask... if you’d train with me. After school? You’re a good...fighter. Yeah.” The words fell from your mouth in the most forceful way possible, awkward and clunky. Kacchan stares off, watching the next match go down, and it seems like your offer fell on deaf ears. You rise, disappointed, and turn away.
“Bakugo.”
“Eh?”
“Call me Bakugo.” He snaps his head toward you, determined ruby eyes glaring you down. “If I hear you say,” he cringes. “Kacchan, hell, even Katsuki, I kill you.” You nod to yourself.
“Katsuki Bakugo then? That’s your name?”
“WHAT DID I JUST SAY, IDIOT?”
Satisfied, you slap your hands together. “Great. Thanks.”
“Whatever. Don’t be late.”
A small grin dances across your face. A genuine one, gentle and unassuming.
And he hates you all the more for the way it makes him feel.
Synopsis: Reader is very close friends with the Bakusquad, except for the aloof and mysterious Bakugo. He still intrigues them however, and a night out with the group might actually be the the push they need to really get the ball rolling on transitioning their awkward comradery into something a little- more.
Note: Thank you everyone who’s read up to this point, I hope you enjoyed baby’s first fanfic! ❤️-K.
With your hand intertwined in Katsuki’s, the two of you meander through the crowd of shoppers, much less concerned about finding your friends. You run through everything that just happened in your head. In one night, you were suddenly dating Bakugo Katsuki. Were you dating? You peek up at him, only to find that he’s staring back.
“What?” He demands.
“Are we dating?”
Bakugo, seemingly composed, rubs his neck. You knew he was bluffing; the pink tint on his face gave it all away. “If you want to,” he mutters, the gruffness in his voice a bit emphatic and entirely bashful. You smile, then give him a quick peck on the cheek, which he pretends doesn’t make him melt inside.
“I do want to.” you pull him closer to you, giving him a coy expression. He’s still a bit nervous. It just barely shows. “Just so you know, I don’t have much experience...” Bakugo coughs, glaring into the middle distance.
You grin mischievously. The perfect leverage. “Am I your first?” you banter. Bakugo, looking irritated, tosses his head in the other direction, but pulls you closer. “Tch.” You pout playfully, leaning into his arm. “C’mon now. I get it, you’re all wrapped up in being the number one hero. That doesn’t really warrant much time for relationships...” you falter, locking eyes with his determined gaze. Suddenly, he grabs your hip, cups your cheek, and kisses you. Hard. He pulls back, pressing his forehead to yours, and whispers without ever moving his eyes away from you. Your heart pounds in your chest.
“Listen. If we’re going to do this, you are going to be a priority, you here me?” You nod, slowly, adoring the intimacy and energy of the moment. Bakugo chuckles, a haughty air about him as he realizes who’s holding the power right now.
“How’s that for a first?” He drawls, now lazily throwing his arm around you cocking his head. “Now look. I think I see Raccoon Eyes up ahead. The fucker’s eye-bleeding color scheme ain’t hard to miss.”
“Heeey guys!” Mina spotted the two of you as you drew nearer to the cafeteria table, her arms decorated with shopping bags. Denki pops his head above the fray, looking frazzled and tired.
“Why didn’t you bastards pick up the phone?” Bakugo growls.
“Oh, perhaps that was intentional,” Mina hums, slyly glancing at your interlocked hands.
“You mean you had a cord?!”
Mina shrugs innocently. “Maybe. Maybe not. Who’s to say?”
Kirishima emerges from the bathroom just as Sero appears with a tray of food. “Aw damnit!!” Sero yells upon seeing you and Bakugo. Kirishima pumps his fists.
“YEEEEEAAHH!”
Bakugo sneers. “What are you assholes going on about?!”
Sero solemnly divides a large sum of cash between Mina and Kirishima. “A bet. That we lost, Denki.” Sero prods Kaminari, who jolts up, then whines.
“Fuuuuuuck. I don’t get paid until next week, can you wait til then?” Denki begs. Mina shakes her head. “Interest rate of 10%.” Denki groans, then glares at you and Bakugo. “Couldn’t you two have waited for at least 3 more days?”
You’re aghast. Bakugo is furious, and he takes his hand from yours to charge at his friends. “IDIOTS!! YOU WERE BETTING ON MY GODDAMN LOVE LIFE? FUCK YOU!” Kiri laughs and closely dodges one of Bakugo’s explosions, leaving the blonde to careen onto the floor. “So manly Bakubro! But I mean, C’mon dude, it was obvious you two liked each other.”
Sero offers a hand to Bakugo. And is immediately shunned. Sero smirks. “Honestly. We were all waiting it out since day one. Deku said that he’s never seen you act that way around anyone, much less a girl.”
“Not to mention, Y/N, your annoying gushing over him,” Mina sighed. She imitates your cadence and demeanor. “~Oh, Mina-chan, Bakugo is sooooooo~ cool! He’s totally gonna be top of the class~ mlehg blehg nlehggg~.” You blush. Bakugo’s eyes go wide. “I mean, you literally always rose to defend him. And I love Bakugo as much as the next guy, but...” she grins. “He deserves all the shit he gets.” Bakugo seethes, grinding his jaw.
“Even I noticed,” Denki laughs, pinching at Bakugo’s cheek. “He’s hardly subtle.”
You tuck a hair behind your ear. It seems that everyone knew about your crush but you. And same with Bakugo. You smile to yourself. Why were you both so painfully oblivious? “Kirishima, is that why you asked me? Because of a bet?” He turns white, making an effort to avoid eye contact with Denki and Hanta. Kirishima stutters, waving his hands around. “W-what? That’s ridiculous-“
“EIJ I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU.”
“Hey! You never said we couldn’t interfere.”
“It was an unspoken rule!!”
“Oh, I guess I sort of broke it, too,” Mina twirls a charging cable around her finger, showing off her phone notifications. (20) Missed calls from Y/N
Kaminari groans. “You guys are the worst.”
You giggle nervously. At least it wouldn’t be a shock to break the news to the rest of your classmates. “Well, everyone, how was your evening?”
Mina leans over the table, her head perched on her hands as she smugly watches (a very grumpy) Bakugo settle down beside you. “Oh, probably boring compared to yours,” she purrs. “Now please, spare no details.”
Synopsis: Reader is very close friends with the Bakusquad, except for the aloof and mysterious Bakugo. He still intrigues them however, and a night out with the group might actually be the the push they need to really get the ball rolling on transitioning their awkward comradery into something a little- more.
Note: It’s done haha. I didn’t spellcheck it that well... forgive me -K.
“There’s a shopping mall not far from here!” Mina squealed, her ink-black eyes glittering with excitement.
“It’s that new one that opened last week, right?” Kirishima mused. “We should totally check it out.
You stifled a yawn, then checked your phone. It was still considerably early, but for some reason your eyelids were heavy with exhaustion. It was almost as if an entire era had passed in the time you left the dorm. But maybe that wasn’t so bad.
Bakugo kept his gaze fixed squarely ahead. Unshakable, even with your charming presence. It didn’t matter to you. What was pleasing was the fact that he was walking side by side next to you, matching your stride with each step. Perhaps it was the lingering warmth of his jacket combined with the romanticism of snowfall, but you couldn’t help but wear a sleepy little smile.
Once arriving at the shopping center, you plopped down on a bench, waving for your friends to carry on without you. “I need to rest my feet for now, I’ll catch up.” The heat from the interior met your freezing cheeks, and you basked in the comfort for a moment. Bakugo hesitated, concern flashing in his eyes, before deciding to join you on the bench. “Huh? Bakubro, you’re not coming?” Kirishima asked, a playful grin dancing on his face. Bakugo met his boyish demeanor with a scowl. “No.”
“Ahaha, I see.” Sero nodded with a quiet understanding, glancing at your drooping form, then raising an eyebrow at Bakugo. The hotheaded blonde immediately flushed. “Tch.” He tossed back his head with an air of false nonchalance. “Go away.” Kaminari clicked his tongue. “Oh Bakugo, quit playing the tough card. We all know deep down you’re a big ole softie. I mean, you should just see the way you act around Y/N-” Bakugo had to be restrained by Kirishima to keep him from lunging at Denki. “GET LOST ASSHOLE!” Sparks flew from his hands. “Whoa, touched a nerve there.”
Bakugo was lucky that his friends abided with this demand, even if it was with some teasing. He was even luckier that you were so close to passing out, and therefore completely checked out of the conversation. He scrolled on his phone, watching you out of the corner of his eye. Sometimes you could be a real pain. What if some creep had cozied up to you while you were in this inebriated condition? His hands gripped his phone tighter thinking about that. Didn’t you care about yourself? He watched your head bob up and down, fighting to stay awake. Hmph. You’re lucky you’re so cute.
The shopping mall hummed with activity, not strange for a Friday evening. Girls flitted about from store to store, children cried and threw tantrums as they were led along by their parents, and some were waiting languidly on their benches just as Bakugo was. Why was he waiting, anyway? You probably wouldn’t want to move for a while, and deep down he knew you could handle yourself.
Then, while his thoughts were focused on his social media feed, Bakugo felt a weight on his right shoulder. Slightly frozen from shock, he stiffly turns his head to greet your sleeping face smushed squarely against his upper arm. He felt his cheeks grow hot, and he silently cursed you for being so damn pretty, even when you were unconscious. He drank in your features, trying to capture this moment in his mind. Wait a minute.
Slowly, very, very slowly, he shifts his phone to his left hand, gently angling it’s camera to capture your entire face. He prays you don’t wake up at the wrong time. Almost got it. Just adjust the light here and- Click. He let’s out a deep breath, a self-congratulating smirk on his face. Bakugo brushes a hair from your face, almost unconscious of the action, then winces at the memory in the restaurant. That had been so awkward. He had been overcome with a desire to help you, to be close to you, to touch you. What he had thought was just a passing crush had become something so intense that it scared him. He didn’t even know it was possible to like someone that much. And now, in this mediocre shopping mall, you were slumped over his shoulder. Your soft snores music to his ears and dulling his senses till all there was was you, and all that mattered was you. You stirred, your calm little face convulsing into a yawn. Bakugo held back a barking laugh at how your brows knit together, how you stretched like a shaking kitten, and how absolutely imperfect you seemed at the moment. His heart clenched as he realized that he was way too far gone. Bakugo loves you. He loved everything you did and how you did it, how you laughed and how you cried and how you woke up from a nap. It made him feel soft and warm on the inside. Gross. Pondering this for a while, he wondered how a person as good as you could even like him. I mean, you did, right? That’s why you tried to talk to him or train with him. Truthfully, he knew that he was a prickly type- he hadn’t met you halfway in the attempts to grow closer. But being around you was almost nerve-wrecking. He wanted to be better for you. After tonight, well, things probably wouldn’t be the same. In a good way. That’s a step at least. Bakugo gazed down at the picture he had taken of you. Your face made him unconsciously happy, and butterflies erupted in his stomach. What the fuck was this?? Was he dying??
He weighed his options, going back and forth in his head... fuck it. He set the photo to his lock screen chuckling with a quiet giddiness, then chastised himself for being so fanciful and indulgent. Now that was just sad. But he didn’t change it back.
You rubbed your eyes, blinking in the fluorescent white light. For a second, you forgot where you were. Your eyelids fluttered shut, your mind weary, hoping to return to your nap. It was so soft here for some reason...then, your nose was greeted with the familiar smell of burnt sugar.
“Bakugo?” You muttered, still in a daze. He jumped in suprise, hitting your chin, and the fact that you had been laying on him all this time snapped you awake. Oh fuck.
You wipe a bit of drool from your mouth, trying to compose yourself. Oh my god he probably thinks I’m disgusting and lazy and-
You make a quick effort to smooth out your hair, hoping to death that you hadn’t done anything embarrassing while you were unconscious. Awkwardly shrinking yourself so that you’d make as little physical contact with Bakugo as possible, you give him a quick glance. “S-Sorry.” It was the return of his soft, caring attention that almost caught you of guard. “Tch. Don’t worry about it,” he mumbled, the gentleness in his voice barely hidden with a raspy facade of annoyance. Your eyes catch on his phone for one second as a notification pops up. Was that... you? You quickly pull your gaze away from it, banishing the thought from your head. No way, no how. That was ridiculous. Why would he even put me as his lock screen?
You shift in your seat a bit, still tired but a little antsy. You couldn’t just sit here in awkward silence with him. Pushing yourself through the haze of exhaustion, you slowly stand up, offering a nod to Bakugo. “Let’s go find the others.”
It seemed that all your friends were refusing to answer your phone calls. “What the fuck?” You murmured. “I mean, Denki’s with them.”
“Bastards probably forgot a cord,” Bakugo sighed, not surprised by their ignorance in the least. “Better just search for them.”
You two walk across the mall, scanning the storefronts, shoulders less than an inch apart. Bakugo is aware of how close you are, and bristles every time your hand brushes up against his own. You aren’t. Your limbs are heavy with exhaustion, your eyes fight to stay open, and the warmth of Bakugo beside you...
You latch onto his arm, forgetting your previous aversions to touching him. Bakugo stiffens up, but says nothing. He watches you yawn, then cozy into the crook of his elbow, burying your nose in the fabric of his shirt. “Y’know Bakugo, you really are amazing,” you whisper, your light little voice slurring from sleepiness. Bakugo’s breath hitches in the back of his throat. Did you really just say that?
“For the record, I don’t care what everyone else says. You’re really nice.” You giggle, reaching for a spike of his hair, then patting his head softly. “And pretty.” That’s it for Bakugo, he panics, feeling his face go completely red. He’s dead silent, shocked that you were being so bold. You pout. “I think I really like you Bakugo.”
“You do?” He whispers back, his gravelly voice infused with disbelief.
“Sure. I think you’re gonna be the No. 1 Hero one day.” You press your fingers together, growing comically bashful. “Can I kiss you?”
Bakugo reels back at the request, eyes wide as he runs those words you just uttered through his head. Just exactly how tired were you?
You bury your face in your hands. “Oh god, I’m sorry Katsuki-“ you yelp. “Uh-uhm, Bakugo-“
“No, it’s okay. I-“ he gulps, swallowing his stress. “I like Katsuki.”
“...Ok, Katsuki.” He felt like melting, hearing you say his name.
Bakugo rubs the back of his neck apprehensively, deciding to proceed with caution. “How about we talk about this when you’re less...loopy?” You give him a single nod, still rested firmly on his arm. He didn’t mind.
“But you know, Katsuki. I really mean it,” you say under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear. “But you’re right. I don’t want to burden you with-“
Bakugo stopped dead in his tracks. Burden him? How could you even suggest something like that? He grimaced, cursing himself for his stupid prickly attitude and his inability to talk to people. Especially people as good as you.
“Is that really how you feel, Y/N?”
“Hm?”
He grabs your shoulders, making sure that you’re looking him square in the eye. A blush creeps onto your face.
“You’re not burdening me, you got it, idiot?”
Why’d he have to say it like that? He inhales, pushing himself to tell you more. To let you know that he liked you, too. More than you’d ever know.
“Listen Y/N, I think that you’re...you’re pretty great. That is to say, you’re not bad. You’re better than most of the extras I know. I mean-“
He gives a shout of aggravation, furious at how impossible it is to just tell his crush he likes them.
“ARGH! What I mean is! ...You remember how I promised I’d tell you when you’re being stupid? Well, you’re being stupid right now, if you think that you’re a goddamn- a goddamn burden.”
He chokes on his words, anger and sorrow welling up in his throat.
“Katsuki.” You bring a hand to his face, watching those eyes of his show you everything you needed to know. Bakugo had opened his heart to you. Had this sweetness been in there all along? Had his love really been there forever?
You frowned, watching his pained expression. What could you possibly say to him...
“Let me see your phone.”
His brows furrow together, and he straightens up. But he complies, tossing his phone to you while looking the other way.
You hummed, tapping on his screen. It illuminates, and as you suspected, it was you. Sleeping. On Bakugo. You feel your face grow hot, then hand him back the phone.
“Well, I guess you’re ahead of the curve.”
Bakugo snorts. “Bold words from the one who fell asleep on me and then asked for a kiss.”
You scratch your cheek, taking a deep breath.
“Well, you didn’t really give me an answer.”
Bakugo’s eyes widen, then offer you a mischievous twinkle. He smirks, a little cocky. “I guess I didn’t.”
“So.”
“...”
Bakugo sighs, then matches his gaze with yours. You can tell he’s nervous. Inching closer and closer, you watch his face grow redder and redder as he leans in. Once his nose is basically touching yours, he whispers softly “Listen. I’ve never done this before, so. Don’t make fun of me.” Then he closed the distance.
Caramel overwhelmed your senses. His lips met yours with confidence yet caution, planted squarely with little mercy. He was so sure of himself, and at the same time so gentle. The kiss was slow, one you both eased into as he grabbed your hip to pull you closer. Your hands played in his hair, and he shuddered, pulling away just for a moment to look at your face. You two stood there, intertwined, in the blinking lights of a shopping mall with the whole world moving past you. You smile, pushing back, then offering your hand to Bakugo. At least now, you were awake.
“Let’s go find the others?” He intertwined his calloused palm with yours. “Yeah.”
