定め 忠 — I'm damned to loving you
ᯓ k.bakugou x fem!reader
— warnings; - Post war , Slow burn , Time + plot brief , established future relationship , plot building , strangers to lovers , destiny?? ؛ ଓ
notes; click on me .ᐟ
ᡕᠵデᡁ᠊╾━ You're the only girl that he has ever wanted.
— 01.
Neither of you really looked each others way. During your second year, you and Bakugo were total strangers most likely destined to never meet.
In fact, neither you or him actually planned on initiating anything with each other.
Though you noticed him, so did he.
After a while, it’s plain obvious why gravity pulled you and him together. U.A. couldn't take all the credit.
You were perfect for each other.
He started recognizing you before he ever had a conversation with you. He didn't talk much to you, not real talking.
But he saw you.
He remembers his first impression of you.
There was a program U.A. had for foreign exchange students. It's literally called U.A. Foreign Hero Exchange Program.
That's when he first met you.
He didn't even plan on going to that. But fate brought him there.
. . .
' It started a week ago.
But today is the day students come to watch the remaining foreign exchange students compete to get into their school.
"Oh come on Bakugo, lighten up. It'll be entertaining!" said Kirishima, who had one arm slung over Bakugo's shoulder as they walked inside the screening room.
It was a large room, big enough to fit students from many different hero schools. There were chairs stacked at a far end of the room for free use. But other then that the only thing filling the room was the hundreds of students. There were TV's situated in sections. Different sections that each school claimed already.
Bakugo looked to his right to see his classmates in their own little section, where 10 TV's sat on a wall, like a security room.
"I doubt that," he gruffed out, shrugging off Kiri's arm and shoving his hands in his pants pockets.
Nothing was playing on the screens yet, so everyone was left chatting or scrolling through profiles of students. Each students had their name, their quirk, and the country they are representing listed under a ID photo of them.
Bakugo leaned against a wall, dark ruby eyes scanning the crowds. He saw that people were rooting for profiles based off appearances. Placing bets and wishes on who they wanted to win.
His classmates weren't entirely different. He overheard their conversations, about who they were favoring. The hottest and the ugliest. He didn't care much to join in, he found it stupoid.
He found this entire thing stupid. What did it matter that they were here? The new students were being chosen by their teachers. He thought this was a waste of time, he could be training right now.
Strengthening his heart.
"Come sit with us Bakugo." Kirishima yelled, turning his head back to look at him. He patted a empty seat next to him. Surrounded by almost everyone in the class.
He only grunted before making his way over to sit next to him.
Bakugo dropped into the seat with a dull thud, legs spreading slightly as he leaned back, one arm hooked lazily over the backrest. His face showed just how little he cared, his forced lack of interest a bit too obvious. Maybe too many eyerolls this time.
His eyes unintentionally found their way to the screen in front of him. If he had to be here, he might as well make it worth his while.
He turned his head to Kirishima. "Give me the remote!" He yelled, snatching it from Mina's hands.
"Why are you yelling at me?" Kirishima said, grinning as he leaned sideways to dodge Bakugo's swipe for the remote. His sharp shark-like teeth flashed in the bright light of the screening room, entirely unbothered by the explosive blond's outburst.
"Relax, man. We're just flipping through profiles like everyone else. You wanna see who's up next, right?"
Mina opened her mouth to protest, hands already reaching for the remote Bakugo had just stolen, but he cut her off with a sharp jab of the remote toward her face. "You had this damn thing ever since we got here!" he snapped, thumb already mashing buttons with an aggressive tendency. The screen flickered rapidly through profiles as Bakugo spammed the next button.
Faces, quirks, nationalities blurring together in a dizzying slideshow that made Kaminari groan about getting motion sickness.
Bakugo didn’t care.
His eyes were already working. Searching for even slightly intimidating people. But considering his standards, there were none.
“Yo, look at this one,” Kaminari pointed, already laughing. “Their quirk literally just-”
“I don’t care,” Bakugo cut in flatly.
The room itself was obnoxiously loud, just constant swarms of noise that never quite settled. Dozens of conversations layered over each other. Someone laughed too loudly near the back. A group to the left was already arguing over who looked the strongest just based on profile pictures alone. (Like he wasn't doing that)
His classmates blended into that noise.
But Bakugo was easy to judge, sometimes he could be a hypocrite. Sometimes though. Usually he was actually very aware of himself.
“Okay, but this one has to be fake,” Kaminari said, hovering over his chair as he leaned toward one of the screens. “There’s no way someone’s quirk is just.. like, elastic hair? That’s gotta be a joke.”
“It’s not a joke, dumbass,” Jiro replied, though she was clearly amused. “Quirks can be anything.”
“I’m just saying, how do you even fight with that?”
“You don’t always fight,” Yaoyorozu added calmly. “Rescue applications-”
“Hey, this one’s kinda cool,” Mina cut in, already scrolling. “Oh! And they’re cute.”
Bakugo groaned, his aggressive touch making his sound lean more towards a growl.
“Shut up,” he muttered.
No one listened. They were by far used to him.
The room dimmed slightly as the system transitioned from profiles to live footage.
“Looks like interviews are being replayed before the arena starts,” Kirishima said, leaning forward with interest. “This is where they get asked why they are doing this right?”
“Yeah,” Mina added. “Motivation, personality, all that stuff.”
“Boring,” Bakugo muttered.
He let his head tip back against the wall for a second, eyes half-lidded as he stared at the ceiling. The lights above buzzed unevenly. Annoying. He could be training right now.
Actually doing something useful.
One by one, candidates appeared. Some nervous. Some overly confident. Some trying way too hard to sound heroic. And some feigning cockiness that they obviously couldn't back up, Bakugo could tell they were chicken just by looking at them.
He out of all people would be able to tell.
“…I want to make my country proud”
“…I believe in justice”
“…I’ll save as many people as I can”
Bakugo’s expression soured more with each one.
Their words filtered through his head in a whiney tone as he mocked them silently, then immediately forgetting who just popped up. There responses were too polished and rehearsed, he almost felt embarrassed for them.
“Extras, I couldn't be any more bored. Say something real.” he scoffed under his breath. He didn't even bother to watch anymore. He regrets every minute that passes by, every minute reminding him this thing lasts for about-
An hour or two? And they just got here.
“…This is the boring part,” Kaminari groaned, dropping back into his seat.
“It’s not boring,” Yaoyorozu corrected. “This is where you learn intent.”
“Intent doesn’t matter if they’re weak,” Bakugo pitched.
"Oh wow look at her? She's so beautiful!" Mina shrieked, shaking Jirou's arm hard enough to make her headphones slip. Jirou shot her a glare, but Mina was already pointing wildly at the screen. More ecstatic then her previous outbursts.
Bakugo reluctantly dipped his head back straight to steal a glance, feeling slight fomo.
You sat across from the interviewer, posture straight but not stiff. You weren't fidgeting or trying to look busy with your expressions. Your hands rested loosely, like you weren’t trying to control how you were perceived.
Bakugo’s eyes narrowed slightly. Mina didn't lie, you were eye-catching.
The interviewer spoke in the same voice he did for every single interview, a voice that everyone was starting to get annoyed of.
Same question as always.
You didn't speak for a second, Like you were deciding how much effort the answer deserved. Biting your lip as you looked down then back up with a smile.
But Bakugo wasn't paying attention anymore. He didn't care how pretty you were.
“I’m going to win.”
"…"
The reaction was immediate from everyone, even through the screen.
A sharp bark of laughter cut through the silence first, followed by a low whistle from somewhere off-screen. "Damn, someone's confident," a male voice drawled too close to the microphone, like he'd leaned in just to be heard. The camera didn't pan to him, but Bakugo could picture the smirk. Cocky bastard.
"Or delusional," another candidate added. "You realize this isn't a beauty pageant, right? They're not judging based on how cute your smile is."
“Seriously?”
“Who says that?”
“Cocky much?”
“Get her out of here!.”
Every candidate who was soon to be interviewed was now getting closer to the microphone, all in a fit of disbelief and irritation.
On-screen, you didn't defend yourself. You just smiled at the people who were starting to yell at you. "Yes, thank you all. I appreciate you." you said sarcastically, a giggle escaping you when a guy's eyes started bulging out of their sockets.
More comments arose after that.
Bakugo didn’t look at them. He was watching you. Because you didn’t react the way most people would.
Something similar to recognition pulled tight in his chest.
"Guys i think we found the female Bakugo." Sero chipped in, snickering with Kaminari as they watched you.
“…Hah.” he huffed, resting his elbows on the head of the chairs next to him as he slouched. Eyes fixed on you and your next reaction.
The screen had already moved on, but Bakugo didn’t register it.
Instead, he leaned forward more for his elbows to rest on his knees now, hands loosely clasped as his gaze flicked back to the side panel, where names and profiles cycled.
“What?” Kirishima asked, catching the shift immediately. “You actually paying attention now?”
He scanned the list again, faster this time. Trying to find your face.
He caught your profile on another screen, farther from the main one him and his group had been watching.
Didn’t feel like much. Not compared to some of the flashier entries. But that didn’t matter.
“…That one,” he said.
Kirishima leaned over slightly. “Which one?”
Bakugo clicked his tongue, irritation flickering, but it wasn’t directed at him.
“The one that said they’d win.”
Kaminari blinked. “Dude, like - half of them said that.”
“No,” he said, “They didn’t mean it. She does.”
There was a difference. And he knew it. Because most people said things like that to convince others. Or themselves.
And he found himself forced to defend you, seeing that you had been compared to him so easily. Even he was impressed by you. He had to defend his image.
A slow grin pulled at the corner of his mouth, something bright and dangerous settling behind his eyes.
“Don’t get crushed too fast.” he thought.
The arena phase was about to begin.
And he had someone to watch.
. . .
You walked barefoot across some large rocks, ones you would see lining the shore of a dirty ocean.
You were a bit nervous. Not because you thought you were in danger or in risk of losing. You were just worried about how you were representing your home country. Especially after what happened before you left.
You were wearing your hero costume. A short sleeve, light weight, skin tight fabric for flexibility. Similar for your bottoms, and cloths on your feet for protection. All made to fit snug on you so it wouldn't get in the way during battle.
Nothing too special. the only loose thing was the cultural beads and cloth you chose to wear.
For a while, you moved through dark spaces. Deciding to spy on loners who were clueless and alone so far. It didn't take long for you to get three medals. Each fight put up only lasted 10 or 15 minutes.
You’re not cocky or full of yourself. Just confident in your abilities. After all, you worked hard to be as strong as you are. Worked all your life to get here.
Time just kept passing. You would watch peoples movements. Some kids were already battling each other, large matches creating commotion in the distance. Though, you thought those people were wasting their time.
The noisy ones were spending almost half of the time fighting for one medal, trying to fight just to show off.
You showed enough of your skills by winning these medals, proving you were more than capable. So you weren't worrying.
5 medals now clinked softly against each other around your neck. Not bad for the first twenty minutes. But you weren’t here for "not bad."
But you saw a certain candidate that stood out. He was a large guy. With fire steaming from his ears every time he charged at someone. He was going after everyone by trapping them in places they wouldn't be able to leave, or else large boulders or objects would crush them.
You gathered another medal, then you waited until the brute made his move on someone again. He wasn't cheating, but even after he stole someone's medal, he would continue to attack them even when the other person was cornered and practically near death.
Pissed you off. He reminded you of actual villains you’ve been attacked by before. Villians that actually kill people.
You were stalking him behind shadows, moving with your knees low to the ground. He collected another medal from the person he just beat.
You have 6 medals around your neck now, he has 7 including the one he just won. Great, he collected the rest for you.
You lifted the medals off from around your neck, each one freezing cold. You quickly buried your medals in the sand just at the entrance of the rock cove you were hidden in. The brute hadn’t spotted you yet, his back was turned, shoulders heaving with each ragged breath as he loomed over his latest victim.
"Hey, big guy," you called once you were away from the spot your medals were at. He whirled, nostrils flaring like a bull scenting blood. His eyes darted to your bare neck, then back to your face, lips peeling into a grin. "No medals?" he rumbled, cracking his knuckles. "Guess you’re just another loser begging for a beating."
The guy stalked closer to you from across the field. You were standing just where the sand met grass. "You got a death wish hot thing?" he snorted, kicking aside the groaning candidate at his feet.
You watched the kid heave for air. There was blood blocking his lungs. You could tell by the way his chest was shaking. Fuck.
You kept your hands loose at your sides, knees slightly bent and your heels lifted.
The air was starting to get humid, though there could be no rain in a closed arena. Probably an intentional setback by whoever designed this place. You could fight in bad weather, despite how much you hate humidity. It just slows you down.
"Nah. Just thought you might want a real challenge." You jerked your chin toward the crumpled forms scattered behind him. "These kids were barely warm ups for someone like you, right?"
His grin widened, revealing teeth sharpened to points. Like snake fangs or shark teeth.
‘Well that’s a bit performative’, you thought.
Steam coiled from his ears as he rolled his massive shoulders. "Real challenge?" He barked a laugh that echoed off the rocks. "You're half my size. Gonna tickle me to death?"
You didn't answer. Instead, you shifted your weight onto the balls of your feet, preparing to move at any moment. The humidity clung to your skin, but you'd fought in worse. Behind the guy, the fallen candidate dragged themselves away. Good. Fewer distractions.
He took another step forward, and you could see the sweat beading on his forehead, the humidity wasn’t just slowing you down.
"Tickling’s not really my style," you said, rolling your shoulders back. "But I do like taking down guys who think they’re invincible just ‘cause they’re big."
He lunged at you first. He was fast for his size, getting closer to your view until you swerved and appeared above him. Your foot descended upon his head, his face plummeting into the ground. You quickly leapt off him and to the side.
The rhythm you created was easy to fall into: dodge, attack, disappear from his range and deliver him a heavy blow. Over and over. It was obvious you weren't taking him seriously, your sweat almost invisible compared to his. He continued to use all of his strength in every attack he threw.
He was too hotheaded.
His breaths grew ragged, shoulders heaving as sweat slicked his skin. The humidity worked in your favor now, his bulk was a furnace, and every missed swing burned through his stamina. You feinted left, then right, letting him chase until his footwork turned sluggish.
It was perfect. Because the time for the competition to end was nearing. You slipped inside his guard, knuckles driving into his solar plexus. Not hard enough to drop him, but enough to fold him forward with a wheeze. You were gone before he could grab you, circling just out of reach.
God, you loved yourself sometimes. Good quirk, and an even better user to amplify it.
But you’re not a god. You definitely have weaknesses. But you’re a strong girl and you know it.
‘You worked for this, now use it’ plays in your head every time you feel like slowing down.
You were gone again, in and out of the cove in just a few seconds.
His eyes darted wildly, scanning the shadows for any sign of you. But the area stood silent. Then, a soft clink above him. His head snapped up.
There you were, perched atop the highest ridge of the cove like some smug bird of prey. One leg dangled carelessly over the edge, and from it swung every single medal he’d stolen plus your own, all strung together in a gleaming, mocking cascade.
You flashed him an evil smirk. A little too proud of yourself.
For a second, he just gaped. Then his face purpled with rage. "You little-"
The timer above the arena pulsed red: 00:01. The horn blared, signaling the end.
His neck was bare. And you leapt off the rocks, landing with feet as light as a cat, and walked away with the medals in your hand. You caught his glare and then turned your head away. Smiling at the camera with a proud grin.
You looked sweet on camera now, unlike before. '
. . .
Bakugo watched you bask in your victory. A interested smirk playing on his face as he took all of you in. You’re stupidly pretty, and your amazing self left him taken away. He actually paid attention the entire hour, eyes solely watching your every move and win.
You caught his eye, the image of you now imbedded into his mind without his control.
He couldn't look away. He cant recall a time he's ever found someone this beautiful, not only appearance wise.
Your entire being was beauty to him.
He is going to know you, he promised to himself. Even if he has to pass his limits just to catch your attention.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
