#school arc

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Sebastian Michaelis x Fem Reader

Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy the story! Sorry for any grammar mistakes.

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Words: 1,208

Fluff

Black Butler Masterlist

Emotions

Your young master, Ciel Phantomhive, had left to attend Weston College to uncover why students have gone missing. With that, you were left behind due to the school being an all-boys public school, meaning while Sebastian was gone, you were now in charge of making sure the Manor wouldn't become rubble due to your three other colleagues. There were a few close calls, but you would manage to salvage it by the end of the day.

It was the second of June, and you heard knocks from the front door. It was the postman. He had given you a letter meant for you. It was from Sebastian. He had given you the task of buying some laxatives and told you to wear an elegant dress to the open ceremony that would take place tomorrow and that he would send a carriage to take you to Weston College.

You were confused about how you would be allowed into the opening ceremony due to only immediate family members being allowed to attend. It was only after the cricket tournament began that maids and butlers were able to enter. 

Katsuki Bakugou x reader. You’ve always clashed with Katsuki Bakugou: fiery tempers, sharp words, constant rivalry. But when a training exercise goes wrong, you realize there’s more to his anger than you ever noticed, and the sparks between you might not be just from explosions.

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The moment you saw him, you braced yourself.

Katsuki Bakugou.

Loud, aggressive, impossible to ignore, and somehow, always the center of your world; even when you swore you weren’t going to think about him.

Training had started like every other day: the usual drills, the usual banter. But today, something felt different. He moved with a kind of intensity you hadn’t noticed before, explosions flaring closer than usual, his eyes sharp as he studied every move you made.

“Oi! Watch it, idiot!” he yelled, as if reading your thoughts before you even had them.

“Maybe you should watch it, Bakugou!” You shot back, rolling to the side to dodge one of his sparks.

He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he scowled, flashing white gritted teeth, and you knew he’d noticed the little smirk that tugged at the corner of your lips. You’d never admit it, but you kind of liked that he noticed.

By the time the dust settled, you were both panting against the wall, bruises forming, laughter bubbling up despite yourselves.

“Not bad… for once,” he muttered, leaning back, arms crossed.

“Not bad?” you asked incredulously.

He smirked, the tiniest twitch, and muttered, “Shut up.”

Over the next few weeks, everything changed.

You noticed how he lingered just a second longer when you sparred, how his eyes followed your movements, and how he almost, but not quite, smiled when you teased him.

"I hate that I notice all of this," you thought bitterly one afternoon, fuming at your own heart. "Why does he have to get under my skin like this?"

He, of course, didn’t make it easy. The Bakugou you knew was still there.

Still yelling, still exploding, and still impossible to ignore.

But sometimes, in the quiet moments, he softened. The way he leaned against the wall after a grueling drill, the way he checked to make sure you were okay after sparring a little too rough.

One evening, the tension finally came to a head. You stayed behind after training, stretching out your arms while he cleaned up. The silence was heavy.

“You’re stubborn,” he muttered.

“And you’re insufferable,” you replied, though the bite in your voice had softened into something almost playful.

He exhaled sharply, fists clenching at his sides. “Yeah… but you’re stubborn too. Stubborn enough to make me… ugh, forget it.”

You tilted your head. “…Make you what?”

He scowled, looking anywhere but at you. “Forget it. Doesn’t matter.”

It does matter, you thought, frustration rising. You took a step closer. “It matters to me,” you said softly.

His jaw tightened. His gaze flicked up, locking with yours, and you saw something you’d never seen before: uncertainty, vulnerability. His eyes filled with something other than rage for once, instead filling with something raw and unguarded that made your heart pound.

The next day, everything changed again during a joint exercise. A simulated villain attack had gone sideways. You were pinned, targets closing in, panic tightening your chest. But before you could even think, he was there. Explosions flared at his fingertips, precise, controlled, and protective. He cut off the attackers, shielding you with his body, moving with a focus you hadn’t seen directed at anyone before.

“Stay close!” He barked, voice rough but tinged with care.

Your chest ached as he stood beside you, waiting until the last threat was gone. You noticed the faint tremble in his hands, the way his breathing hitched slightly.

Later, in the quiet of the training room, you both sat against the wall, bruised but alive. Your legs brushed, and this time, neither of you moved away.

“You okay?” he asked, voice quieter than usual.

“I am now,” you whispered.

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t get used to me being nice,” he muttered, but his lips twitched in a way that almost looked like a smile.

“No promises,” you said, grinning. “Because I've noticed that the great and powerful Katsuki does care.”

He froze, blinking at you, and then, suddenly, he leaned closer, eyes burning with something that wasn’t anger. “I care about you, idiot,” he admitted, voice low but firm. “More than I can stand sometimes. And I’m sick of pretending I don’t.”

Your heart lurched. Did he just… say that? You had always felt it—the little sparks, the teasing, the way he protected you—but hearing him say it made everything real.

“I care about you too,” you whispered. “I’ve always cared. I just never knew how to tell you.”

A beat of silence, then he grinned, sharp and mischievous as always, but softer this time. “Finally. Took you long enough to notice.”

You laughed, the tension draining from your chest. “Better late than never, Bakugou.”

"Katsuki, I want you to call me Katsuki," He shoved you lightly in the shoulder, still scowling, but the faint blush on his neck gave him away. “Don’t get used to this,” he said.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” you replied.

For the first time, both of you allowed the tension, the rivalry, and the fire between you to settle into something warmer. Sparks still flew; but now, they weren’t dangerous. They were yours.

And for once, neither of you tried to hide from them.

Here's some tea ☕:

CIEL ART IS DONEEEEEE 🥹