i loveeee crazy!gf x bakugo i was literally looking for sum fics yesterday. he’s just so smitten by her behavior ^.^
SAMEEEEE because he adores the crazy. LOVES IT and knows how to handle it. he’s so good when he’s stern with you like if you’re getting mad he didn’t text reply to your text when he was literally at work and now you’re lowkey accusing him of being up to something he’s either “watch what you’re sayin to me” which completely sobers you up or he’s doing “baby. cmon, you really think i’d do that?” all soft and soothing which makes you go back on yourself.
and i think if the crazy comes from past relationship trauma he lets it slide more in the early days. but he loves when you get jealous. when you think another girl is talking to him for way too long or “why the fuck did you let her touch you?” and it was just a tap on the arm, in his head the fire is fanning, he wants to laugh and kiss you at the same time. “she was just showin me somethin. you know i don’t care about anyone but you.” and you snappily reply “show it then.” and he’s following you around like a lost puppy.
i also think he doesn’t get tired of it and overtime he learns how to manage it. does always try to sneak a text to you when he’s in a meeting, shares his location with you, much more cautious of women’s intentions with him and is always quick to blurt “i have a girlfriend.” even when it’s not relevant. you have him well trained.
also the crazy is beneficial when it matches his. a crazy fan in the street is running up to bakugou, jumping all over him and you so easily just stop the situation. “get off him. one step away thank you.” like you’re his bodyguard. and you’re always so quick to defend him over anything. he’s in got his hood up in the bodega/corner shop/convenience store and you walk pass the newspapers and magazines and a group of guys are talking about hero news and your boyfriend. you’re so quick to get involved in the chat, defending your man!!!!! and after being gone for too long, bakugou has to drag you away from the scene. “they’re saying shit about you!” and it only drags the men’s attention to him, “dynamight!?” “dunno who that is.”
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Thinking about Pro Hero! Bakugou coming home to his housewife and his 3 baby girls in their big, traditional home right at the edge of the city.
It’s been a long day but it’s all worth it when he sees her in the kitchen, eating fruit. She has her nightdress on, hair wrapped up, with one baby on her hip, and the two toddlers playing on the floor together. He places his gauntlets in their compartment by the door, out of sight out of mind.
Of course the toddlers come rushing towards the door when they see that their dad’s home, but he can’t help but dodge them to land a sweet kiss to his wife’s lips. Next thing he knows, the little gremlins are climbing him like a tree, half babbling, with the 3 year old demanding to know why he wasn’t home sooner.
“Daddy had to fight a new stupid villain, but you’ve got me all tomorrow, alright kid?” That seems to satisfy the toddler and she makes her way back to her toys, which gives him the space to wrap his arms around his wife.
While she’s chiding him for saying “stupid” around the girls, all he can focus on is the small, barely there baby bump of her stomach. He can’t believe he didn’t knock her up sooner.
“Little guy’s growing fast, you’re not even a month in yet.”
“What makes you think it’s gonna be a boy, ‘Suki?”
TW: Misogyny, Fear of Sexual Assault (none actually happens though), Super inaccurate cultural descriptions
A/N: Had so much fun writing this chapter! So much dialogue lol. Reader is kind of a brat but I feel like that’s to be expected, given her upbringing yk? No romance yet, but it’s coming!! I want this to develop naturally.
“Where do you think she’s from, Kacchan?” Deku wonders aloud, pacing the large den of Bakugou’s home. There, in the center, the girl sleeps fitfully on a cot. She had finally worn herself out after almost an hour of fighting when he had brought her back. Meanwhile, Bakugou sits on his tatami mats, using Kaminari’s leftover Sake to clean the scratches she had left on him. Fuck, for as small as she is, her nails are sharp.
“Dunno, but if I were to guess it would be one of those uptight kingdoms out west. Look at how she’s dressed.” Bakugou points towards her silk dress, fit with puffy sleeves, countless buttons, and a corset so tight that he’s surprised she didn’t die of asphyxiation before she even made it to land.
“And stop walkin’ around in circles! You’re gonna wake her up before she needs to, and I’m not gonna be the one she scratches this time!”
Deku pauses, rubbing at his chin in curiosity.
“She has to be some type of royalty though, no? I mean, the regular women Kaminari’s told me about from over there aren’t anything like this.”
Bakugou sighs, looking over her once more. Her soft, dewy skin and healthy figure bear a stark contrast to the emaciated working class women he saw the last time he ventured out west. Their gaunt cheeks and dirtied faces are stained into his mind, solidifying everything he hated about monarchies and their societies. It’s the reason why his mother refused to work anywhere near them, and why he never will either. Looking at her, Bakugou can’t help but think about how…pretty she is—strikingly so—and it irritates him all the more.
He can’t help but wonder if she’s as cruel as those who came before her.
If the jewels lining her throat and wrists were anything to go by, she was definitely of higher blood, and those diamonds didn’t come without sacrifice.
“I guess so. Either way, she’s gonna have a lot of questions to answer when she wakes up. Watch her temperature Deku, I don’t want her to die before we can get any information outta her.”
“Yeah, it’s hard to keep it down though... I don’t know what she went through out there, but it’s definitely taking a toll on her body. And the dress is weighted down with water, so that’s not making it any better.”
Bakugou is about to walk out when Deku’s sentence hits him right in the gut.
“Fuck, of course she has a fever! How the hell didn’t we do that first?!” As gently as he can, with as much urgency as he can, Bakugou starts to strip her down, averting his eyes as much as possible. “Shit…Deku grab the smallest fabrics you can out of my closet. She’s gonna fucking freeze to death if we don’t act fast.”
As more and more garments fall to the floor, Bakugou finds himself getting more and more irritated. How do these people procreate with so many layers?! Do they live such sheltered lives that they never think they’ll have to get undressed in a hurry?
When he finally touches her skin, the chill of it is enough to give him pause—and for a second he truly wonders if she’s dead. But her shallow breathing confirms otherwise, so he continues.
God…could Deku take any longer?
Bakugou carries her towards the fireplace, draping her in furs and cradling her to his chest to try to keep her as warm as possible. It feels so strange to be doing this for a woman he doesn’t know, to be so close to a woman he doesn’t know, but a part of him refuses to let her die.
Deku finally hands him the clothes, pondering, “Do you think we should tell anybody else yet? I mean…she doesn’t really seem like she’s gonna keep quiet.”
They both cringe, thinking back to the high pitched screaming she’d managed to squeal out before Bakugou could cup his hand over her mouth. (To which she had subsequently bit.)
“Fuck no. Pinky’s not gonna be able to keep her trap shut. Neither is Kaminari. Don’t need either of them runnin’ their mouths right now, the old hag has been on my back enough this week.”
Deku grabs her dress, tossing it aside, while Bakugou begins to redress her. “Fair enough… Hopefully she’s in a better mood when she wakes up.”
────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────
You awake with a splitting headache and a completely empty memory. You’re laying on a soft warm…bed(?), covered in…animal fur? And when you look to your right, a fire burns in a nearby fireplace. Which means you aren’t alone…
When you go to stand, your legs are too weak, and just as you’re about to hit the floor, two strong, tanned arms catch you. “Careful, woman!” Following the muscular armed wrapped around you, you meet ruby red eyes connected to the (admittedly handsome) face that’s currently yelling at you. He has sand-blonde lashes that frame them, and tiny little freckles spattered across his nose. And his lips are so pretty…
He’s muttering something about how you “wanna get yourself killed” when your eyes start to trail lower and Oh god where are his clothes?!
Looking down at yourself, dressed in some gigantic blouse and linen(?) pants, you come to the horrific realization of Oh god where are my clothes?!
You scramble back, falling onto the cot and scooting back as far as you can. “You…barbarian!! Did you…? Did we…? Oh God, I’ll never be able to marry now! I’m ruined!”
Tears spring to your eyes, and a life of instability, shame, and social ruin flashes before you. Those tears quickly give way to anger, and before you know it you’re jumping on the stranger, beating at his chest.
“You will speak of this to no one!! Or-Or you will marry me! I refuse to lose everything because of this!”
The man catches your fists midair, while another pair of hands comes to pull you off of him.
“What the hell are you talking about?! Are you simple?!” He shouts at you, and his confused face only serves to anger you more.
You go to swing at him again, but the other pair of hands holds you back. And you turn to see a man with green hair looking at you like you might turn on him next. But he’s a lot stronger than you expect, and you can’t move an inch. “Kacchan…I think she thinks that the two of you…” The man averts his eyes. “Y’know?”
As the realization dawns on him Bakugou groans deeply, dragging his hands down his face in exhaustion.
“I didn’t fuck you.”
His vulgarity stuns you, and you’re going to demand more context when he beats you to it; “You were gonna freeze to death in that fuckin’ prison you were wearing. You should be happy I didn’t let you die.”
Suddenly your cheeks feel extremely hot, and you want to crawl into the nearest hole and never wake up again. But then you remember something damning. “Then where is your shirt?!” You whip around to face the green haired man, narrowing your eyes at him. “As a matter of fact, where are both of your shirts?!”
The green haired man chuckles nervously, rubbing his neck. “We don’t really wear those here…uh, ma’am. Not unless it’s really cold.”
Your jaw drops.
Thankfully, your etiquette classes taught you to never judge another culture’s way of dress, so you instead sit back down, silently.
“I…apologize. That was unladylike of me.”
The blonde man scoffs while the other one laughs, waving his hands in front of him.
“You’re fine!! Don’t mind Kacchan, he’s like that with everyone. Cultural differences, right?”
The blonde (Kacchan?) groans, turning to busy himself with stoking the fire.
You offer the green haired man a smile, grateful that at least someone isn’t acting like an imbecile here. “Well…yes. I’m (Y/N) (L/N), It’s nice to meet you. And you are…?”
“Oh! You can call me Midoriya. So, Miss…(Y/N)… how exactly did you get here? Oh, and where are you from? Are you a royal? What you were wearing definitely doesn’t match any of the surrounding kingdoms around here…”
His rambling is cute, it almost reminds you of the children you would visit during your free time at your home.
“Well that makes sense. My country is very far from here. We were only passing through because I was headed to my fiancé’s country to be married. And yes, I am a Princess, the only one in my country, actually.”
Bakugou’s ears perk up at that, and he doesn’t know why when he hears it his heart sinks.
Midoriya’s eyebrows knit together in concern, “Wow, your fiancé must be worried sick. Don’t worry, Kacchan and I will help you get back to him.”
Bakugou narrows his eyes at Midoriya, and you can’t help but feel the urge to roll yours. “Hey, nerd! Don’t volunteer me for your humanitarian bullshit. I kept her alive to figure out how she ended up on my island, that’s it.”
You sneer at the blonde, turning entirely to face Midoriya. “That’s awfully kind of you, sir. But that won’t be necessary. I didn’t even know my fiance, that would’ve been my first time meeting him. And I’m sure my parents will believe I’m dead when the news of the ship’s sinking gets back to them.” Your grave face tells Midoriya all that he needs to know.
“There were no other survivors?” With a shake of your head, you confirm the worst.
“I’m so sorry.”
You sniffle, sitting up a little straighter. Your governess would be so disappointed if she saw you now! You’re a princess, (Y/N), try to have a little dignity.
“It’s quite alright, sir, though I appreciate your condolences. I believe I should like to head home now, and put this all behind me. Where is my dress?”
The blonde laughs, pointing at your muddled dress, frocks, and corset in the corner. “Not happening Princess. It’s still wet. And unless you’d like to freeze to death, I imagine you ‘should like to’ stay until tomorrow.”
His smile is cruel, as though he takes humor at your inconvenience. But, as much as he is irritating, he is right. As you look outside, the sun has set, and it would be impossible for you to return home now.
You smile tightly, trying to stay poised. “Right, then. I suppose I will sleep here tonight?” The blonde snickers. “You’ll probably be sleeping here for longer than that. Do you even know how to row?”
It feels like ice drips down your spine as you realize that you may be stuck here for much longer than you initially thought, and no one is coming to look for you.
TW: Misogyny, Arranged Marriage, Large Age Gap (Not between reader and Bakugou), Descriptions of Drowning, Character Death
Author’s Note: First chapter done! I’m ngl I feel pretty good about it! I tried to pace myself while writing it, considering how it might be written in an episodic format. Let me know what you think in the comments!
When you were younger, your nanny always knew when it was going to storm. She would make it a game for the two of you, pointing out the signs. Dark blue skies, an unmistakable moisture in the air, the “smell” of rain itself. While the game sounds ridiculous now, a younger, more naive version of you would go about her days looking for the signs, if only to point them out to anyone who would listen. It’s incredible how these same signs are reflected here, now, thousands of miles away from your home. While storms used to excite you, today they only reflect the immense amount of anxiety you feel, and being on a rocking ship isn’t making it any better.
“Ceren, don’t you think it wise that we find somewhere to dock the ship? Surely we won’t be able to make it in this weather,” you implore your lady-in-waiting, biting at your knuckles in worry. She rolls her eyes, placing her hand on your shoulder. No doubt she thinks you’re trying to delay the inevitable. “Nonsense, your highness. We only have about two day’s left of travel, then we will be there. Besides, the captain is a smart man, he’d have stopped if we needed to.”
The sky blazes with another strike of lighting, illuminating the entire deck for just a second. To steel yourself, you try to imagine you’re anywhere else but where you are now: On a ship to marry a man three times your age, who you’ve never met.
Unfortunately, your brain decides to conjure up one of the worst memories it possibly could in the moment: the argument you had with your parents before you left. Flashes of your father’s exasperated face and your brothers’ apathy stain your memory, and your eyes almost start to well with tears.
You breathe in deeply, facing out towards the sea. “Are you sure, Ceren? The sky is awfully dark, and the waves are getting bigger…” Another crack of lighting and the ship lurches forward, nearly knocking you both off of your feet.
“It’s going to be okay, Princess. Besides, it would be foolish to dock anywhere near here, we’re only a few miles from Barbarian territory.”
Her words make your breath hitch in your throat. You can remember the word “Barbarian” from years of eavesdropping on your father’s diplomatic discussions.
The last you’d heard, they were headed by Mitsuki Bakugou, a fierce and powerful woman who successfully took over all of the islands surrounding her own. She had amassed so much land that many said she would joke about retiring early, having accomplished in a decade what many kingdoms couldn’t accomplish across hundreds of years. She had an army that even your own kingdom didn’t dare to mess with, especially because of the culture of the Barbarians themselves. From whispers across countries, they’re known to be violent, ruthless people with a culture that completely shuns society as a whole. The thought of running into them, especially as unprepared as your ship undoubtedly is, makes a chill go down your spine.
“You don’t think we’d actually ever end up having to land there, do you?”
Ceren barks out something between a gasp and a laugh, clasping her hands together. “Of course not, your highness! Besides, I’m sure they’d eat us alive the second we reach their shores!”
As much as the sentiment frightens you, you can’t help but laugh at your lady’s words. “Ceren, that’s insane. They’d simply send us back where we came from.” Ceren laughs.
“Oh no, my lady. They’re quite an uncivilized type of people. How else do you think they’ve gotten half of the world terrified of them?” She leans in, as if sharing a secret. “You know, I hear that Chief Mitsuki has a son she’s raised to take her place. If we did end up docking there, he’d be quite the eligible bachelor for you wouldn’t he?”
You gasp, covering your mouth with your hands. “Ceren! Imagine if my mother heard you say that!” Her giggles are admittedly infectious, although you try to muffle yours with your hand.
You sigh, “Although, anything would be better than the old troll I’m being forced to wed in three days. Do you know, Ceren, that he supposedly wants eight sons?!”
“No!”
“Yes! And he already has so many bastard children, from what I’ve heard. God, why couldn’t he pick one of them? I can’t imagine being forced to have his hideous babies.”
Ceren looks at you in pity, pulling you into a hug. “It will not all be bad. You will have me, alright? And I will be sure to draw plenty of baths.” Her joke gets a chuckle out of you, but your bitterness remains.
A drop of rain lands on your nose as if the sky is expressing your own misery.
“Well then, let’s go back to our rooms, shall we? I don’t want to be caught out here when it rains,” you acquiesce, pointing to your hair that had taken hours to style. Ceren smiles, happy to see you slightly more at ease. “Of course, perhaps you could take a nap? I can put rollers in your hair so it keeps its shape, princess.” As you walk down the stairs and into your chambers, you nod. “That would be perfect, thank you.”
“Of course, after all you must look your absolute best when we land! That means lots of sleep for you, young lady!”
────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────
You awake to the sound of screaming and the feeling of water invading your nostrils. Forcing yourself upright, you’re horrified to see the room filled with water. People are shouting at you, rushing past you, and yet the only thing you can think is where is Ceren?!
There is chaos all around you as you rush through the madness, screaming your friend’s name. When you finally make it to her quarters, dread seeps through you as you see water pouring from under the door of the room. Ignoring the orders of your guards, you push at the door until it finally bursts open, sending a torrent of water rushing towards you. When it finally clears, there she is. Lying still, quiet, almost like she’s sleeping, there she is. You rush to her side, screaming her name. You shake her, try to breathe life into her, but it is no use. Her lifeless eyes stare back at you, and she is gone.
You have no time to process it, as you are pulled out of the room and pushed further up towards the part of the ship that isn’t sinking. Your cries fall on deaf ears as grief overtakes you, and you find yourself only clinging to the ship out of pure instinct. However, to your horror, the ship itself breaks in two, and everything goes black after that.
────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────
“I’m just saying Kacchan, if we fished near the east more, there’d be more diversity in our diet. And Momo did say that’s important.” Bakugou rolls his eyes, snatching his fishing spear out of the water. The animals writhe on the blade, and Bakugou grimaces as he chucks them into his basket. “Yeah, yeah Deku. I’ll talk to the hunters about it tomorrow.” Taking hold of his basket, Bakugou prepares to head back inland. However, just out of the corner of his eye, he catches the sight of something pink floating in the water.
“The hell….?”
Deku hums in question, but Bakugou is already wading in the water, mumbling all the way. When he finally makes it to the object, he flips it over to find that the pink is silk, and the silk clings onto the unconscious body of a woman. “Fuck! Deku, go strike a fire at my fireplace!” Although confused, Midoriya hurries inland, while Bakugou races towards the shore with the woman in his arms.
Once on land he lays her down and does his best to breathe oxygen into her lungs, pumping her chest several times. When she doesn’t wake up, Bakugou swears. “Fuck…Don’t want you to die on me, woman, but I don’t wanna break your ribs either.”
With several more chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth breathing techniques, the woman finally startles awake…vomiting directly into his lap.
Bakugou can only pat her back and hold her curls away from her face as she continues. When she finally finishes coughing, she finally pulls away from him, wiping her mouth delicately. They seem to stare at each other for a few moments in complete silence… before she’s suddenly sprinting off into the forest.
“What the—?! Stop woman, you still need a doctor!”
Bakugou takes off after her and it isn’t long before he’s tackled her and the both of them go rolling in the sand. She’s screeching at him now, “Stay away! I have no money to give you! My father will send for me!” Bakugou nearly covers his ears at the sound, but instead he simply hauls her over his shoulder, ignoring her beating on his shoulder. She’s obviously not all there in the head…maybe she just needs to sleep.
As he walks in the direction of his home, Bakugou can’t help but wonder what the hell he’s gotten himself into.
Pairing: Chief! Katsuki Bakugou x Princess! Reader
Summary: At the young age of nineteen, you’ve found yourself betrothed to a stranger who lives thousands of miles away from your homeland. Being a woman, you have a say in the matter, so you prepare to be shipped to an entirely new country that you must now call home. However, on your journey there, tragedy strikes and your ship is capsized by a storm that would rival the powers of Zeus himself. When you awake, you’re on an island where you don’t know a thing about the language, culture, or temperament of those who surround you, and your only hope of survival is a brute who seems to despise your existence. How could you navigate such a situation, and could you do so without losing your head and heart in the process?
Author's Note: Not gonna lie, this fic is gonna totally be self-indulgent lol! Barbarian Bakugou has always been an interesting concept to me, and I've been watching Bridgerton recently so I wanted to find a way to mesh these ideas. In my head, reader is from an English-speaking country while Bakugou and his country mainly speak Japanese. Bakugou's country is more progressive, with less strict gender roles and a lack of social classes. The reader's country is your typical monarchy, with a wealthy and poor class, misogyny galore, etc. However, I don't think I will be going into the specifics too much, other than that!
Most Important Characters:
(Y/N) (L/N)
Age: 19
Being the youngest (and only) daughter in a royal family of seven, you’re far past being the “spare” for your bloodline. As your eldest brother is on the straight path to becoming king and you have several other brothers to take his place should anything happen to him, your value to the family is only slightly above nothing. So, your parents found the best societal use of you: shipping you off to the highest bidder on their side of the globe. You’re distraught at the idea, but your opinions never held much weight in your family. So, all of your things have been packed and you find yourself on a ship to marry a man twenty years your senior. You’re still not sure if it was divine intervention that you never made it there, especially when you land in the lion’s den of the most feared man across the eastern hemisphere.
Katsuki Bakugou
Age: 21
Being only a year into his title of Chief, the brash and headstrong “Only Child” has taken his role quite seriously. Between training relentlessly and expanding his foreign knowledge, Bakugou has had little time to himself. And to his credit, his hard work has paid off! His people have been pushed towards greater stability, technological advancements, and the cultivation of new lands. He’s finally beginning to feel comfort in his new role when the arrival of an outsider shakes everything that’s he holds dear. While he utterly despises you at first, as your relationship develops Bakugou finds himself questioning his emotions, loyalty, and ultimate self when it comes to you, and what his feelings for you may mean.
Izuku Midoriya
Age: 21
This kind hearted farmer boy is Bakugou's closest confidant and his unofficial "second in command". (Though Bakugou would scoff at the notion.) When he's not coming up with new agricultural techniques, he's advising the Chief on political and military campaigns! While he wouldn't dare say it to Bakugou's face, he's quite proud of how far his greatest friend has come. After all, it's what he's always wanted! But he's not happy with the way Bakugou has abandoned his own wellbeing to be the absolute best at his role. And while he can't help but feel sorry for the princess that washed up on the Chief's shores (Bakugou has never taken kindly to strangers), she brings a spark to his friend's eye that he hasn't seen in years.
Kirishima Eijirou
Age: 21
Being Bakugou's closest friend, Kirishima is understandably worried when the chief and this stranger cannot seem to get along, especially as there seems to be few ways to get her back home. Being a soldier, Kirishima's motto has always been "The only way out is Through!" So, he makes an effort to befriend the princess, causing some immense cultural confusion in the process. However, his goodness shines through the cultural barriers, and you find him to be your main confidant in such trying times.
Momo Yaoyorozu
Age: 21
Yaoyorozu is proud to tell anyone that her intelligence and grit has landed her a spot as the main navigator for her country's new Chief. She follows in the footsteps of a family of navigators that has assisted their leaders in geographical strategy for thousands of years, using their unrivaled wit to lead their country to greatness. However, even she is stumped when the foreign princess is brought to her doorstep. The intelligent and warm-hearted scholar is your only solace in your temporary home. She bears the closest resemblance to anything concerning your old life, and her even temperament is your "calm in the storm" as you navigate such difficult times.
Denki Kaminari
Age: 21
The ale-drinking, banjo-playing blonde is more jester than soldier in most of his friend's eyes, but Kaminari's experience in maintaining bonds with generals and freemasons alike has given him a sense of emotional depth that most wouldn't expect from a man like him. Not to mention his years traveling have given him a holistic view of the world that many don't get. The soldier spends most of his free time writing music, flirting with anyone that will give him the time of day, and annoying the Hell out of his Chief. However, his mischief and humor lend an unprecedented olive branch to the foreign princess trapped on their land, providing her with much needed relief from the seriousness of her situation. He can't help but chide Bakugou though, proclaiming that his much-needed wife may have just landed right in his arms.
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thinking about bakugou who’s forced to go to rehab after a crazy mission where he pulled and strained multiple muscles. this recommended rehab specialist which all heroes use, tells him that he runs a stretching class in the evenings in the local gym on the side of doing his one on one sessions with pros. bakugou has nothing to do, basically bed bound, off all future missions and can only do regulated exercise so he turns up.
bakugou hates rehab. it makes him feel like a baby learning to walk. they force him to lift weights that weigh the same as mangos and he has to do these stretches that he sees the elderly do when he does nursing home visits.
this stretching class, it’s exactly how he expects. a class full of women. about 13 of them, majority elderly with their leggings and sleeveless jackets. there’s two other women in the corner a few years older than him but they don’t even look bakugou’s way. and then you.
definitely his type. his type to a t, so much so that it’s a little painful to look at you. you wave to the instructor at the front and frown at bakugou.
“we never get guys here,” you pull off your joggers to reveal skin tight leggings, “especially ones like you.”
he doesn’t know if he should be offended or if he’s in the wrong here. your eyes flick up and down his body. still massively muscled. thick tape over his biceps. a knee band on his left.
“i uh—,”
and the class starts, with this relaxing, walking in the forest music and you forget bakugou’s even beside you. he’s still dumbly looking at you like he needs to reply but he’s taken a second too long and missed his chance.
you in your leggings, sports bra and light gym top. he can see the purple racer back of your bra under your top. he wants to talk to you. ask you if you were being rude there or are you always that blunt to strangers?
he copies everyone by standing behind his own black dynamight official merchandise gym mat. everyone else is using the dingy brown gym logo ones.
bakugou can only think that this is why you don’t want men in this class because he wants to look at you through the mirror opposite you both. he won’t though because it would be embarrassing for you to open your eyes mid stretch and find him staring. but your mat is right beside him, you are right beside him. he wants to figure you out, make ominous comments for you to think about minutes after they’ve happened.
the instructor tells the room to stretch their arms above their heads and to breathe in through the nose and out the mouth. there’s no competition in the room like there usually is when he trains with his friends. he can’t remember the last time he’s been to the local gym that smells like sweaty metal and the wallpapers peeling off the walls. everyone’s at different levels, some barely able to stretch their arms straight, others shaking and some just doing what they can.
you, when he does peep over, look like you’re in your own world. he can hear your soft breaths beside him, the crack in your knee when you all move to the next position.
he tries to be normal when he’s laying flat on the ground and then twists to stretch his hips because you let out this little sweet, “fuck.”
bakugou’s not even facing you when you say it but amongst the somewhat calming music that crackles through the cheap speakers, he can still hear it. it doesn’t get him hard because he’s grown enough to have some sense and context. it was a good stretch for you. but his eyes widen and his body stiffens
it’s embarrassing when bakugou can’t do a basic stretch of his leg due to his accident. has him grumbling under his breath when the instructor helps him into place and a few old ladies turn to look at him. he huffs when he lets out a groan and you giggle at him. fucking giggle.
it’s even worse when he mishears left for right and he ends up facing you for a stretch.
his eyes are ping pong balls, pupils bouncing from you to the wall to his feet then your lips then your eyes. but instead of spinning the right way, he just stays facing you. he feels worthy when you laugh, lucky when you make a comment.
“wrong way, silly.”
it feels like you’re flirting. is he so stupid that a woman talking to him feels like flirting? maybe he just wishes you were.
he stares at you when you inhale, when you shut him out by sliding your eyes closed to concentrate. then how your chest softens with the exhale. bakugou looks away at the end of the countdown so you don’t catch him looking.
the session is only half an hour and when it gets to the end, he wants to ask for your name. or your number. he can’t do that, you come here to stretch not find a boyfriend. don’t people do that at gyms all the time? aren’t gyms just dating breeding grounds? he hasn’t even said a word to you yet.
the instructor turns the music off and without that filling the empty space bakugou is scrambling for purchase. but you’re already up to hang the gym mat on the wall and grabbing your bag in the corner.
“see you next week jim!”
said to the instructor. then you look at bakugou, again your eyes flicker up and down his body. he can’t tell if you’re laughing at him or still confused to why he’s in this class or if you like what you see. he gets a short nod and a small smile from you. then you turn around before he can even reply.
he hasn’t even rolled up his mat yet.
jim walks over to him, “dynamight! i know that probably wasn’t your usual speed but rehab will be similar to that. i can message your team for your free days and we can get our sessions booked in the calendar.”
“i wanna come back to these sessions.”
jim frowns, “at the gym? your one on ones will be at home, personalised to fit your care.”
“we can do both? or i can do these, it’s the same shit anyway isn’t it?”
bakugou rubs his top lip against his septum. is he really fucking up his rehab journey for the chance to see you again? maybe.
“i say we do both, dynamight. good to know you enjoyed my session here. i only do these for free to help the community.”
bakugou nods, half paying attention. he’s learnt this skill from being surrounded by friends that talk more than necessary. he wonders if he should ask jim your name? no that might be creepy if you find out. no it isn’t. maybe he can catch you on your way out. or maybe you’ve gone into the workout space? oh fuck, he’s too late again isn’t he?
“just call me bakugou. i’ll see you next week for sure.”
Oooh your requests are open?? I'm a new anon and have been binge reading your works so I'm quite giddy cuz your works are astounding! Um, how about a star jock in University, known for being quite a blockhead but clingy and very possessive of the reader, a member of the student council? But when asked about his feelings for her, he'll just say "Oh! I'm her bestest friend!" But frothing in the mouth at the sight of another man with her *cough* other student council members *cough*
-🌷🐸🌸 Lillypad
✎ yandere! jock headcanons . . .
✎ warnings . . .
― obsessiveness, slightly delusional yandere, slight violence etc.
(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)
✎ yandere! jock who's known to be a himbo. cute and athletic but extremely airheaded at times! it's a wonder he's still passing his classes.
✎ yandere! jock who's a golden retriever type of boy. smiling happily at you, clinging to you like he'll die if he's not with you... it's really cute. plus he's sort of dumb and just tilts his head when he doesn't understand when you tell him something! it's super cute! like imagine a big muscly cute guy not understanding why it's wrong to beat up someone for confessing to you! it's kinda annoying but adorable all the same.
✎ yandere! jock who follows you around even when he's not supposed to. at this point he's an honorary member of the student council with how he just follows you into the meetings and has you sit in his lap. though he gives good suggestions and helps enforce the rules so he's not half bad :)
✎ yandere! jock who is madly in love with you. anyone with eyes and half a brain can tell except for you and him apparently. maybe it's the love effect or something but no matter how many times someone tells you he likes you, you don't believe it. how could he? he's just your best friend!
✎ yandere! jock who always freezes up and blushes every time you confront him on his feelings. even though the way you ask it is completely friendly, he can't help but think you might have some feelings too! he always daydreams about you admitting you have feelings for him all along... then a happy ever after~! but that probably won't happen, he can barely talk properly without mumbling and shitting about something else whenever you're on this topic!
✎ yandere! jock who you tutor on a regular basis. yes your majors may be different but you're smart so it's not really all that hard... so you offer to help him out, tutoring him so he can get better grades. it doesn't really work though, your jock can't help but get mesmerized with the way you talk, sit, breathe... anything you say goes in one ear and comes out the other. it's useless trying to tutor him anything at this point. because his mind is always full of you, you, you.
✎ yandere! jock who gets irrationally jealous whenever he sees you hanging out with someone other than him. especially if it's a guy. his heart swells with rage and an indescribable gnawing feeling at the mere sight that he can't help but land a punch on the guy's jaw for even existing. you always have to pull him away and calm him down :( it's a bit too overwhelming sometimes, you can't even talk with your professor without him glaring daggers at the old man!
✎ yandere! jock who would give up everything and anything for you. you're his beloved best friend after all! he'd give up his position as the star athlete and even his position at the university if he has to. anything for you. you're his best friend that he loves too much after all.
✎ "sweeth- my best friend! here, let me help you out! *punches through a wall*"
cw: pro hero!bkg. flirty!!! that’s it really!!! minors dni probs gonna make a masterlist for these
YN: do you think you can look after kenji tonight?
YN: sorry it’s so last minute
YN: if not i can ask my mum
You: Sure bring him round whenever
YN: thank you!!! will be at yours in 30
once bakugou katsuki realised he has a crush on his son’s mother or his favourite term, his baby mama, all the interactions between him and you hold a new pressure. not only does he want to be the best father for his son but he wants to be the best person for you. he wants you to like him back.
so he springs up from his seat at his desk where he was just going through his paperwork and eyes the toothpaste stain on his shirt. cannot let you see that. should he take off his rectangle reading glasses? he finds a mirror in his hallway, his hair is flat. his hair is literally never flat— ever. he has to put a little product to fluff it up. and… it is so embarrassing if he does a couple push ups to bulk his arms, but you won’t know. he has caught you looking at his arms once before, gaze lingering interested. maybe he will.
bakugou is baby proofing his apartment, putting his scissors away, heavy gauntlets back in his office, loose screws in a jar, when his doorbell rings. warmth blooms throughout his chest knowing his son is on the other side and you. you’re there too. fuck.
pushing his glasses up his nose (he decided to keep them on) and raking his hands through his hair (yes, he added some product), he jogs over to his front door swinging it open.
“papa!”
the love bakugou katsuki feels for his son is like no other. even though he sees him often, three times a week, this week four, he always looks older. like a day away from him and suddenly he’s going to pop out with a baritone voice and a beard. not yet though, chubby cheeks pressed against his knee and two little arms around his calf.
kenji, looks just like him and you. obviously from having a child together but it’s truly odd to see his own baby pictures come to life. his father’s wheat blonde but less spiky, leaning more to your hair texture at the end. and instead of his ruby eyes, he’s got yours, copy and pasted.
“hey papa! me and you today!”
“hey little man, you okay kenj?” he ruffles his sons hair and like a cat, kenji leans into it.
“ya! mama going!”
then bakugou lands on you, pupils dilated. where the fuck are you going looking like that?
it’s almost amusing, you in your brown suede mini skirt, black cowl neck top showing your tits, makeup done to literal perfection, little baguette handbag on one arm and then kenji’s deku green backpack hanging off your other arm.
your lips are glossy with these cat like eyelashes at the corner of your eyes. you look seductive, like a siren able to lure bakugou out to sea to drown. he’d definitely follow. he’s so careful to mind where his eyes go, not your cleavage, the glitter on your collarbones. also not the length of your legs in those kitten heels and mini skirt. there’s even a slither of stomach and bakugou wants to bite, wants to drag you back into his house and—
wait, where the hell are you going?
“thanks for taking him last minute! i completely forgot i had plans tonight.” you say, and your smile has bakugou’s next breath shaky.
it must be only him in the whole world who has a crush on his baby mama. the woman he’s never dated, only had sex with on a one night stand and has a whole child with.
bakugou sniffs, letting go of kenji so he can run off probably to all the toys he keeps in the living room.
“no problem, always wanna spend more time with him.” he states, crossing his arms. his pupils are about to drop past your chin when he blurts, “you’re not gonna be cold?”
you laugh, loud and sharp, “of course you’d say that. don’t worry, my jacket is in my car.”
“ah okay. you look good,” bakugou cringes inwardly. how the fuck did he flirt his way into your space the first time he met you? it’s been two years now and there’s almost no improvement. can you even be called friends?
you roll your eyes, clearly amused by him.
“thanks katsuki. i wanted to ask if you have any blister plasters? i feel one coming on.” you lift your left foot off the ground for a second, “first time wearing these!”
an excuse to scan the length of your legs, your smooth thighs, ankles, your feet in your little maroon kitten heels. are you going on a date?
a cough rumbles through bakugou, then he nods, “yeah, come inside. i’ll get you one.”
kenji is in the living room, surrounded by big puzzle blocks he’s cutely failing at putting together. “papa!” he shouts, running into the hallway to see you following after bakugou. kenji’s head tilts, a frown, “mama? here?”
a million thoughts rush through bakugou, reasons he can’t date you even if you ever want him back. kenji finds it weird that you’re even in this space. two spaces, mama’s house and papa’s house. everything about how you’ve parented kenji so far has been separate, very clearly separate.
“i’m leaving in a sec, kenj. just getting something from your papa.” and you perch up on a kitchen stool as bakugou reaches into his kitchen cupboard for the blister plasters. kenji comes to stand by you, two chunky puzzle pieces in hand.
“i brought his new books with him and these yoghurt raisins he’s been loving recently incase you didn’t have any,” you hum, resting your hand on kenji’s shoulder.
“damn, always changin’ his favourites. i just bulk bought those dino crackers,” bakugou sighs but it’s all love as he circles his island counter and gets down on his knees before you.
you’re in shock, jumping and crossing your legs over the other, “you don’t have to put it on me? i can do it?”
a hot hand on your ankle and your whole body vibrates with interest. you’re grateful your son deems the situation boring, toddling off back into the living room.
now bakugou katsuki, your baby father, the man who’s half your son and carries half of your sons last name is stupidly gorgeous. there’s a reason why you ended up in bed with him that one and only time, with his thick arms, you can see a two veins running through each of them and his eyes make you want to moan. a deep ruby red that practically twinkle when they look at you. his attention makes you feel powerful, probably the reason he’s so good at running a hero agency, you’d comfortably leave your life in his hands.
and now, with those nerdy cute glasses on his nose bridge, somehow looking like a model with his fluffed up hair and the sight of dino crackers in a tub behind him labelled ‘KENJI’S SNACKS BACK OFF!!’ made by your son, makes you swoon.
you’re the definition of flustered with this strong, domestic, burly man on his knees with a blister plaster in his hand. he could see directly up your skirt if he wanted to.
“nah, it’s fine. this shit doesn’t bother me.” he blinks expectantly waiting for you to hand him your foot.
swears only when your child is away. you wearing your slutty little outfit with this gorgeous man in his sweats and somehow you feel like a princess with him sliding a glass slipper onto your foot.
“you gonna let me or do you wanna just do it?” he removes his hand from your ankle.
you’ve seen clips of bakugou in action. mostly when it’s on the news, always making sure kenji doesn’t see bakugou covered in blood or shouting orders on tv. how sure of himself he stands, the strength he holds when he blasts a villain that multiple pro heroes couldn’t crack. sometimes you drop kenji off to his agency just before bakugou’s about to leave and you see him in all his glory. the boots that give him an extra couple inches, the tight black material that sucks him in and highlights every ab and pectoral. you remember how he nods a hello to you in those moment, with a boyish smirk like he knows what you’re thinking.
you think your baby father is sexy. so what.
you shake your head to rid your thoughts but bakugou takes that to mean you want him off. he adjusts to get up but you place your hand on his shoulder. the movement has him lifting his head to you, lips parted like he was ordered.
“no, i mean it’s fine. just wasn’t expecting it.” then you uncross your leg from over your other. then you joke with a finger pointed at him, “don’t look up my skirt. i wore it hoping nobody will be seeing me from this angle.”
bakugou visibly gulps at that, head ticking, “i fuckin’ hope not.”
calloused finger tips take your calf and with one hand, big fingers fiddle with your heel buckle. you’re almost sure it’s not possible for him to take it off but then it’s swiftly removed and onto the floor.
you blink at him, “what?”
bakugou carries the focus of a trained professional as he studies the sensitive skin around your heel. he ignores your confusion, “where are you goin’ tonight?”
it’s like whiplash, his question so quick after yours. you barely register what he says before you answers, “club in the city. it’s new, apparently has a live jazz band.”
bakugou grunts, wiping the area with a disinfectant wipe. “who with?”
your smile is slow, a realisation forming that you can’t completely confirm yet. “why are you asking that, katsuki?”
then he glances up at you, bottom lip plump and red. you hate that you can still remember what it’s like to kiss him.
“wanna make sure my baby mama is safe. not hangin’ around fuckin’ creeps.”
“ah, you’re asking for kenji?”
you can’t read his eyes yet but there’s a spark of amusement fluttering through them, “sure, let’s use that excuse.”
you roll your eyes and he carefully, lays the plaster on the area. “with a friend.”
“is it a date?” and it’s the nagging at the back of bakugou’s head that makes him ask, the fact he’s needs to know. dying to know.
now you really laugh, undecided if you want to toy with him or not. “and if it is?”
to that bakugou rises to his feet and seated, he feels even taller than usual. the whiff of bakugou’s scent, that caramel sugary scent, reminds you of that night two years ago when he was thrusting into you so sweetly that you could barely remember your name after.
“i hope it’s awful,” he grunts and he feels like a teenager. not a grown ass man and not someone’s grown ass father. he doesn’t know why his finger lands your chin, angling your head to face him. you don’t know why you let him, lips parted like his will land on yours. ruby eyes flicker to your eyes to your lips and the need for contact is imminent.
“you’re so stupid,” you mumble and when you realise the position you’re in, that your son is only next door, you pull away from bakugou katsuki.
bakugou’s left standing where you left him as you scramble away, pulling your shoe back on and buckling it back up with a single hand. you adjust your skirt and you go back into mum mode. “he might ask for something sweet but don’t give it to him, i already gave him ice cream earlier. also ask him about quirk training at school, you’re so much more suited to helping him with that.”
bakugou crosses his arms across his chest. if you want to pretend there’s nothing between you both as you go and meet another man, then sure. he gives you a slow nod, “i will. enjoy your date, yn. though i’m not sure green goes with brown.”
you frown glancing down at your outfit. black cowl neck top, brown suede mini skirt, maroon kitten heels. green where?
“mama! you still here?” kenji appears walking back to you, this time the tv remote in his hand, “you didn’t say bye mama.”
“i was just about to!” you bend down to your sons height, ignoring bakugou’s gaze. “i’m gonna pick you up tomorrow morning, okay? ready for football tomorrow. don’t ask papa for any ice cream, i’ve already told him.”
kenji pouts before landing a big kiss on the top of your head just like where you and bakugou always kiss him. you laugh at the motion, landing a soft kiss on his cheek, “okay, kenj? see you!” you rise and your son begins to wave.
“bye mama!”
bakugou leads you to his front door and green, green, green, still shakes through you until you realise. your fucking green underwear. you spin round with a gasp, bakugou almost falling into you as you halt. stabilising himself with his hand on the wall right beside your head. kenji is still standing behind him, waiting for you to go.
you’re again so close to bakugou, chest to chest and with the realisation that you know what he meant, a smirk grows on his face. so fucking sexy.
“you’re a perv,” you whisper scolding him, finger pointed but it only makes bakugou pretend to bite it by clashing his teeth together.
“have a good night, yn,” he replies, walking forwards as you walk backwards out, “i mean it.”
“BYE MAMA!”
“bye kenj!” and then to bakugou, “i’m watching you.”
“fuckin’ love to hear that.”
— likes don’t do anything on tumblr! but reblogs, comments and asks mean the world! thanks
he can tell by your tone you’re about to ask one of your random questions again and mentally prepares. “yes baby?”
you’re sitting on the couch while he prepares dinner in the kitchen, a random couple’s tik tok sparking your curiosity.
“what would you do if i killed somebody?”
“i’d kill for you.” he responds calmly but almost incredulously like the question doesn’t even need an answer.
your heart skips a beat but you persevere.
“okay…but what if i killed someone?” you hear his footsteps as he approaches you. “would you help me hide the body?”
he stands in front of you and you look up at him innocently as you ask these crazy questions.
“obviously, i’d take care of it.” he crosses his arms so you know he means business. “i’d take the fall if it came to that too.”
“what? seriously?”
he makes a face like ‘duh?’ “can’t let my princess go to prison.”
you smile and tilt your head, “so your princess can handle killing somebody but not prison?”
he shrugs, “you can but i’m not letting you. simple as that.” he grabs your jaw with one hand and leans down to give you a quick kiss. “now can i get back to making you dinner now?”
you lick your lips and smile, satisfied with the conversation. “i guess so.”
totally posting this bc of my current sinners obsession, but literally imagine vampire! deku banging on your screen door earlyyyy one morning. he’s sizzling, skin burning and peeling from the hot sun. when you pull the door open, horrified at the same time, he’s begging you,
“i’m sorry to bother you, please, there’s someone after me— i, could you let me in?”
you’re too panicked to realize he says that last part a little too calmly.
“oh god, of course, please, come on! i think i have a first aid kit somewhere.” the smell of burning flesh overtakes your nose when he steps in, but you disregard it to hurriedly get him to your couch. after checking your lawn for anyone and not seeing anything, you rush to your bathroom for the first aid kit.
when you come back, he’s sitting up surprisingly well for someone literally on the verge of death. hadn’t his skin been more burned before you left?
you disregard the thought as your frantic mind playing tricks on you, rushing towards him with peroxide and bandages.
as you’re rubbing disinfectant on his bare chest, you’re horrified when you see his skin stitching itself back together, like his injuries were happening in reverse. when you look up, he’s already staring at you, emerald green eyes full of an emotion you can’t tell. and what the fuck, is that drool dripping down his chin? he smiles boyishly at you, and you notice the sharp fangs just a second too late.
i actually take back that last part!! he wouldn’t smile at you, he would look down at you with a frown, something akin to pity adorning his angelic features. he never likes how messy things get when it comes to this part.
that doesn’t stop him from taking a bite out of your throat anyway. your screams are drowned out by the gurgling of your own blood as you choke on the thick liquid, and the last sensation you feel is his lips on your skin. in your skin.
deku only smiles when your lifeless body finally starts twitching again, and you’re standing up with a newfound sense of self, nothing but euphoria coursing through your veins.
he’s so close you can smell your own blood on his lips when he grins at you, big fangs on display. ones that now match yours.
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totally posting this bc of my current sinners obsession, but literally imagine vampire! deku banging on your screen door earlyyyy one morning. he’s sizzling, skin burning and peeling from the hot sun. when you pull the door open, horrified at the same time, he’s begging you,
“i’m sorry to bother you, please, there’s someone after me— i, could you let me in?”
you’re too panicked to realize he says that last part a little too calmly.
“oh god, of course, please, come on! i think i have a first aid kit somewhere.” the smell of burning flesh overtakes your nose when he steps in, but you disregard it to hurriedly get him to your couch. after checking your lawn for anyone and not seeing anything, you rush to your bathroom for the first aid kit.
when you come back, he’s sitting up surprisingly well for someone literally on the verge of death. hadn’t his skin been more burned before you left?
you disregard the thought as your frantic mind playing tricks on you, rushing towards him with peroxide and bandages.
as you’re rubbing disinfectant on his bare chest, you’re horrified when you see his skin stitching itself back together, like his injuries were happening in reverse. when you look up, he’s already staring at you, emerald green eyes full of an emotion you can’t tell. and what the fuck, is that drool dripping down his chin? he smiles boyishly at you, and you notice the sharp fangs just a second too late.
cw: protective bakugou, mentions of a traumatic event (not explicit), therapy lol
The world looks a little brighter, plants look a little greener, you feel a little happier, since a few weeks ago. That night. It’s a fleeting schoolgirl crush, you tell yourself. I mean, who isn’t obsessed with a pro hero at some point in their life? It’s natural. It’s regular.
It doesn’t make it any easier though.
You haven’t seen Dynamight—Bakugou, since that night. You’d giggle at the thought that he told you to call him his real name, but that sour little voice in your head says that would be pathetic.
Well, you haven’t seen him in person, since. He’s on the news a lot, saving pretty damsels in distress, offering mature speeches and diplomatic gestures when prompted, telling off rude reporters. He looks the same, but also, so, different? You think it’s not the same when you meet someone like him in person.
You continue with life as normal, going to classes, the occasional parties, nursing drunken friends on your apartment floor.
You don’t see Bakugou at all. Which is normal.
However, Bakugou sees quite a lot of you. In the weeks following your little drunken stroll, he’s found himself patrolling the area near your home more often, everyday getting closer and closer to Apartment S302.
He worried about you. And it’s strange, he knows that. How he tossed and turned the night after meeting you, thinking up different scenarios concerning your safety in his mind. It was his night off, for fucks sake! Still, he couldn’t help but drag himself out of bed, pulling on sweats and a hoodie so he could at least make sure your weren’t laying in a puddle of your own blood nearby, bludgeoned by some crazy axe murderer.
Katsuki knows how he is, how he feels when he starts to like someone. It’s a burning hot feeling deep in him, the desire to protect, to take care. It’s not the normal feeling that most get, something natural and healthy. He knows that, it’s why he avoids feeling like this at all cost. But he can’t help it this time. You, with your pretty smile, quick-witted remarks, and bright eyes, had ensnared him completely. How did you do it, in one night?
You had become a problem.
Bakugou throws himself into hero work, picking up extra shifts, attending stuffy press conferences. Fuck, he even entertains the thought of a meet and greet one night when he really can’t get you out of his mind. He makes it his mission to forget you, something like a challenge. And those are something he’s always been good at.
Every time he starts to think about you, he finds a new event to attend, a new case to take on. Is it burning him out? Absolutely. But anything is better than that red hot feeling that creeps up his neck at night, that begs him to just talk to you.
Still, he patrols your neighborhood some nights. Just to ease his worries.
—————————————————————————
TAYLOR’S GENERAL STORE: the sign is like a beacon of hope for your otherwise dull night. After hosting a number of friends over, your snack stash was effectively obliterated and you had nothing to quell your late night cravings. And while Taylor’s definitely isn’t the closest to your house, it is the only one that has those hazelnut chocolate bars you like. And the owner is a total sweetheart, an elderly gentleman with a smile too big for his teeth.
You offer him a grin and a wave when you walk in. You’re headed straight for the snack aisle, unashamedly eager to fill your sweet tooth for the night. You’re reading the label for a new brand of sour gummies when, out of the corner of your eye, you catch a recognizable shade of blonde hair. No fucking way. Suddenly you’re hyper aware of your old sweatpants and too big t-shirt. Did you even put on mascara today?
You’re about to turn around and speed walk home, save yourself some embarrassment, but suddenly he’s in front of you, and you really didn’t realize that someone could move that fast. It’s quiet for a moment, you’re both staring like fools.
Katsuki wants to say Hi, you look pretty. I thought about you. But instead, he points at the colorful bag in your hand. “You know that shit’ll rot your teeth out right?” You bark out a laugh. You didn’t expect him to say that, but you’re so happy to see him again, so surprised that for once fate is on your side.
“Yeah, I’m speeding up the process so I can get a new set of fake ones. Not everyone’s blessed like you, Dynamight. I bet they make veneers based off of your teeth.” You’re smiling madly, you’re sure. But he smiles back, so you don’t even feel bad about it. He looks handsome dressed down. Black hoodie, gray sweats, sneakers. You’d be shocked he didn’t have the stereotypical shades on if it was 3 am.
“Why’re you always out so late? Tryna end up on the news?” He says it like a joke, but his eyes hold genuine disapproval in your habits. You shrug, looking away from him. “I um, I don’t sleep well. Always looking for something to busy my mind with at night, I guess.” His brows furrow, making a little crinkle in the middle that you want to instantly smooth away. “Been like that since you were a kid?”
You sigh, beginning to walk towards the register. He follows. “No, actually. I used to sleep like a rock,” You laugh again, partly from humor and partly from surprise that he’s actually interested in you. “I um, was super injured in a villain attack last year. No lasting damage or anything, but I haven’t got a good night’s sleep since.”
You’re ringing up your groceries now, and you’ve never been so grateful for self checkout. You feel like you’re having an actual conversation with someone for once, not something just about classes or drinks. He frowns, helping bag your groceries as you ring them. You hadn’t even noticed he had abandoned his own basket. “You uh, you in therapy?”
You pause, then continue scanning. “No, I probably should be I guess. It’s expensive though, y’know?”
“I’ll pay for it.”
You raise an eyebrow at him, chuckling quietly. “That’s funny.” He grabs your bags for you, and soon you’re walking out into the cool night air again. “I’m serious. Therapy, it-uh, it helps. Not good to keep shit like that to yourself.” You stop walking to turn and look at him, and he looks brilliant, even in the dim street lights above.
“You’re too kind. I couldn’t ask that of you, Bakugou.” He stuffs one of his hands into his pockets and pulls out a wad of bills, all hundreds. “You’re not asking. Just take it.” You stand there, shell-shocked at the flippant display of wealth. Then, you’re shoving the cash back in his hands.
“No. I can’t take money from you, I’m practically in debt to you already from you saving my life. And no offense, Bakugou, but you barely know me.”
You’re backing away now, groceries forgotten. Money had always been a sore spot for you, a childhood of stacked bills and empty plates leaving its indent on your view of the concept.
Bakugou grabs your hands, not roughly, but firm enough to stop you from moving further away from him. “I want to get to know you! And I know I have no fuckin’ right tellin’ you how you should live, but you deserve to get better.”
You’re starting to get that familiar sting in your nose that comes when you’re about to cry, and you blink any tears that are forming away. You just want to look anywhere but his earnest red eyes.
“Why do you want to help me? I’m a civilian you walked home during your patrol. Hardly an indent in your day.”
“Isn’t just the fact that I want to enough?”
The silence between the two of you is only filled by the whooshing of passing cars and your labored breathing. Bakugou is looking right at you, wild red eyes darting across your face. He’s silently begging you to say something, anything.
“I…It’s really late. Thank you, Dynamight, for everything.”
The stars don’t shine for you when you walk home that night.
authors note: definitely gonna make a part two for this, it got a little long lol.
Crisp night air hits your skin as you stumble out of The Basement, an underground night club you’ve used to fuel your most recent drunken endeavors. While the music wasn’t great, you’re grateful that they’re one of the only clubs nearby that can actually make a good shirley temple. Distantly you can hear the faint sounds of your friends calling after you, no doubt tired of your wondering legs taking you anywhere but their line of sight. You mutter an “I’ll be back soon!”, but the second the sentence slips past your lips, you forget the notion entirely.
You’re bubbly tonight, all sweet smiles and giggles as you walk past strangers in the night. A distant voice in the back of your head says not a good idea, and a more sober, less wrecked version of you might’ve listened. But tonight you’re wandering again, and you’ll no doubt face the consequences tomorrow.
You pass a store window, checking your appearance in the minimal reflection. To your credit, you still look a little put together. Lipgloss only slightly smeared, tank top and mini skirt still unwrinkled.
You walk a few more blocks, hopping over crushed glass and avoiding leering glances from men twice your age.
Thank God for muscle memory, is all you can think as you suddenly decide you’d like to go home, and your feet almost automatically know the way. Through several twists and turns down the alleys of your city, you marvel at the night sky and the few stars you can see through the city’s lights.
“Keep on staring up at the sky like an idiot, you’re gonna bump into something.”
The voice shocks you out of your daze, and your eyes are darting around, trying to find the source of the rough voice that suddenly ruined your nice night. They land on a tall figure; broad shoulders, heavy equipment hanging off of him, huge blonde hair. Pro Hero. The news had said a pro hero from Japan would be patrolling here for a few months, hadn’t they? He looks like the man from the TV, and you know if you really tried you could remember his name.
He snaps his fingers in your face, and you realize you’ve been staring silently for way too long. “Are you high or something? Do you need to be escorted home?”
Fuck. You cannot afford a citation right now. “Uh, sorry, I’m just a little spacey from work. Long day, y’know how it is. And no, I don’t need one, thank you!”
You’re hurriedly trying to brush past him, almost falling flat on your ass in the process. He catches you by your elbow, helping steady you with a firm hand. He smells good, like cinnamon sugar and incense. If you weren’t high before, you definitely are now.
Oh, his name is right on the tip of your tongue! What is it?
“Dynamight! That’s your name, right? You’re here for the national hero conference?” You’re smiling up at him, happy that you’d figured out your little challenge.
The look disappears as quickly as it comes, but you swear you can see a hint of pride on his face at being recognized by a foreigner. “Yeah, yeah. And you smell like a liquor store. You’re not walking home by yourself.”
He leaves no room for arguments, and as you look down the dark alleyway, you realize your apartment is a lot further than your intoxicated brain had anticipated. So you lead the way.
The walk is quiet for awhile, until Dynamight speaks, obviously uncomfortable with your spaced-out silence. “What made you wanna walk home this late? It’s not like this city doesn’t have public transportation.”
You could tell him the truth; that your intoxicated brain hadn’t even thought about the convenient idea. But, you weirdly feel the urge to not sound stupid in front of the hero, so you reply “I wanted to look at the stars tonight. Appreciate the little things y’know?”
He snorts. “You wouldn’t have been able to do that if you were dead.”
You stop in your tracks, thrown off by the crude response. “Excuse me?” He rolls his red eyes like you said something stupid, like he hadn’t flippantly brought up the subject of your death.
“Some fucker had been following you. I don’t know how long, but after I noticed it was at least 4 blocks.”
You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at him. “No way. You’re kidding, night?”
He shrugs, “I don’t care if you believe me or not. I took care of it.”
“How didn’t I hear it?” You’re puzzled, your genuine confusion mixing with the substances in your system. Dynamight urges you to keep walking with a gentle pat to your back, and you do. “I didn’t train for years to not be fuckin quiet, and besides, he wasn’t close enough for you to hear anything.” Something tells you he won’t give you any more information on the subject, so you drop it. “Well, thanks I guess. I definitely wouldn’t have been able to do my chem final if I was dead.”
You’ll deal with the existential dread of dodging death tomorrow, when you’re nursing a definite hangover. Right now, flirting with the handsome pro hero is at the top of your agenda. He’s pretty, you think, with long lashes and a sharp nose that juts out over his soft looking lips. His mask is pulled over his hair, and you’re grateful that you can see his eyes without the obscurity.
Dynamight looks you over, analyzing you almost. “You’re a college kid?” You flash a cheeky smile at him, waving your phone case that holds your student ID. “Yup, sophomore year actually. And I totally know the whole pro hero thing is uh-mazing, but you’re totally missing out on the college experience. Justtt saying.”
“What, drinking and getting high out of my mind? Yeah, no fuckin thanks.” You laugh, loud and ugly, completely out of your usual flirty giggle. “Wowww who knew Mr. Dynamight could be so uptight.”
The pro hero rolls his eyes and pushes your shoulder in a way that you’re sure is supposed to be playfully, but his strength works against him, and you’re stumbling forward almost two feet. “Hey! Know your own strength, asshole!” You feign anger, but your words are said through more laughs, and oh, he’s actually laughing with you! It’s a nice sight, you decide. His canines are sharp and his teeth are pearly white; he could totally be a model if he wanted to.
The rest of the walk is filled with low laughter and back-and-forth banter that, before tonight, you wouldn’t have thought you could accomplish with a stranger. You learn that Dynamight is 24, he hates mango, and he’s going to be here for the next 10 months to complete a new hero license requirement. He mentions a group of his friends being here as well, pro heroes of course. He doesn’t call them friends per se, but from the smile on his face when he talks about them, you can tell.
You’ve sobered up by the time you reach your apartment, and you find yourself not wanting the night to end. But Dynamight definitely has a long night ahead of him, and he has no time to spend it with a broke college student who totally had developed a crush on him in one night.
“Well, this is mine.” You stand at your door, smiling up at the man. You don’t want to leave him out there, don’t want to make him walk all the way back to his post all alone. Especially after he had changed your night so irrevocably. He makes a face at you, one that you think might hint at a smile? “Drink at least two cups of water before you lay down. And get some sleep.” You’re still smiling, probably looking at him like a love struck full. “Yeah, yes, of course. Thank you, Dynamight.” Your voice is soft with want, but you acquiesce.
He looks like he wants to say something, staring at you silently in the dark. But he doesn’t, so you give him a short hug, breathing in the cinnamon-spice scent of him, and you step into your home. “I really appreciate everything, good night Dynamight.”
“Bakugou.”
“Hm?”
“Bakugo is fine. Only like strangers calling me Dynamight. And goodnight, trouble.”
Before you can admonish him for the stupid nickname, he’s turned away, and you’re closing your door.
As you spend the rest of the night apologizing to your friends for wandering off once again, you can’t help but think about the blonde hero with the sharp tongue.
It was a promise you’d made to each other long ago, back when you’d gotten into your first big fight in the early months of your relationship, to never go to bed angry, to work through and compromise with whatever problems plagued your love. No one deserved to go to bed thinking their partner was angry at them.
But when Bakugo spit his venomous words, turned on his heel and slammed your bedroom door shut last night to leave you with the shattered heart he’d just created, your feet couldn’t even begin to move towards the closed door. You didn’t want to face him, want to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how bad he hurt you, and if he so badly didn’t want you in bed next to him, who were you to try and convince otherwise?
So, wordlessly, you climbed into the scratchy, lumpy couch he’d seemingly banished you to, and you pulled the too-small, too-thin blanket over you, and stared at the leather of the couch for the next six hours, the clock ticking all the while.
