ββγ»ΰ¨ β¦ ΰ§γ»ββ
Summary-
It began with a panicked lie- a quick excuse to get the media off Katsuki Bakugoβs back.
A fake relationship meant to silence the press spiraled out of control when Bakugo was forced into Kyotoβs Hero Gala. Till- a villain crashes the party, claiming heβs only here for βthe girl.β
Lies unravel. Truths claw their way out.
But out of everything said that night, only one lie ever truly defined him.
Relationship- Katsuki Bakugo X Fem! Reader
AU- Pro Hero (Early 20s)
Rating- Teen and Up
Warning- Light Cursing
ββγ»ΰ¨ β¦ ΰ§γ»ββ
Oh, shit.
Why did he say that?
Every detail, large and tiny, flashed in his head. Again. And again, and again. The media, his own words, Kirishima's reaction. All things blurred as he stared blankly at the full locker.
Has he already changed?
The gauntlets are there. He must've.
Slam. Besides him, the bright blue locker rushed cool air into his face as it closed, clicking in place.
Kirishima's voice echoed in Bakugo's ears, finally becoming clearer.
"I'm fine," Bakugo mumbles, slamming his own locker. Before pushing past the hair-naked man, red hair all messy, and picking up the large and quite heavy gym bag.
"Oh, well. See you after your trip!" Kirishima calls out.
Bakugo froze mid-step... No- What the fuck did he just do? He groaned as he rushed out of the locker room, swinging the bag over his shoulder.
His whole body ached, the strap digging deeper into his shoulder with every step. He shouldn't have done that extreme workout. Hell, he wasn't even supposed to clock in at the agency.
Giving him a weekend off, only to bother him about coming in. It just pissed him off.
The familiar golden-plated numbers stared back at him. Face reflecting as the heavy gym bag almost slipped off.
Why is he here? He didn't even remember walking here. He should go back home, where he can hide.
Instead, his body moved. Knuckles landed on the door, following his usual pattern of three knocks. He didn't even call; normally, he would. Too lost in his own thoughts.
With a click, the door swung inwards, followed by the slow creaking that never seemed to leave- despite how many times he tired fixing it.
There you were, in the most comfortable-looking pjs, smiling- the same smile you've always given. The earthly smell immediately hits his nose...Familiar, like that old hag's miso soup. Looking down at your figure, he finally noticed the large ladle in one hand.
Crap- Did he interrupt dinner?
"Bakugo?"
"Can I come in?" Bakugo blurted out. Watching as you glance down at your spoon before moving to the side.
You chuckled. "Sure. What dinner too?"
"I saw that you prevented a robbery," you recounted as you placed down a steaming bowl of miso soup in front of Bakugo.
Ba-bump. He swallowed, throat parched, before he looked down at the bowl. If you did know, then why are you acting so normal?
"On the News?" He asked, picking up his wooden spoon- black engulfed the handle. The same one he'd accidentally burned years ago. The one you insisted on keeping just for him, only for him. After ensuring it was safe to use again.
"No, I saw it from my balcony," You sarcastically said with a smirk. "Yes, on the News before Frost decided to unplug my TV."
Oh, so that's why the TV was moved to its side. Bakugo knew that cat would cause problems...But if Frost never unplugged it- Bakugo didn't want to know the what-ifs.
"Thought you would've taken a break like me," You added as Bakugo turned, watching you slip into the stool next him, before taking a spoonful of miso.
Right.
The trip. The Kyoto Hero Gala, with top heroes and...reporters.
The wooden spoon knocked against the swirling counter of the island as you placed it down, looking concerned.
"Bakugo, are you alright? You haven't touched the soup-"
"About that," he began, cutting you off. Ba-bump.
Hot, too hot. He wanted to pull his shirt off or even the collar away. He felt sticky, his hands clammy.
You swung slightly, the stool cried beneath you.
Did everything in this place creak?
Your body facing him, hands now folded carefully in your lap.
"What if I told you that-," The words caught in his throat. He didn't like this. He felt too exposed as his voice cracked. Breathing out, he opened his mouth-
Your phone rang in the small apartment, its tone the same as it had been since UA, vibrating against the counter. You apologized before picking up the phone, swinging off the stool, and heading through the living room and out onto the balcony. Bakugo sighed- He needed to tell you, before someone else does.
Delicious as the soup was, Bakugo waited. And waited. For what felt like a long time before hearing the sliding of glass doors. He turned as you dropped your phone onto the coffee table.
"Um, sorry." You hesitated, shifting on the other foot. "What were you going to say?"
Bakugo wanted to retreat. Go home. Shut himself away- the same pathetic habit the nerd did as a kid. Damn it...he hated how much he'd started to resemble Deku.
But he couldn't. He'd already stepped into this river, and now he was in too deep to turn back. Bakugo picked at his nails before speaking. "That I may have lied to the public...about us."
"That we are dating?" You slowly said, before looking over to your phone, before looking back at Bakugo. "My agency called about it...Why?"
Bakugo stood up, "The annoying reporter kept bugging me about mt love life. I...panicked."
You stayed quiet. The silence punched him harder than any villain had. Did he just destroy what he had with you?
"If you want, I can leave." Bakugo began, voice lower- not a whisper, but not his casual tone.
You hesitated, just for a second, before nodding.
Bakugo maneuvered around your kitchen- placing his bowl in the sink before he threw the duffel bag over his shoulder. Before turning back to you.
"I'm here if you want to talk," he said, shifting the bag. "See you tomorrow, Float."
The Katsuki Bakugo...Panics? Of course, he does; he's still human. You knew that. But he admitted it, to you.
Not too long after Bakugou left. Your phone buzzed, chiming every few seconds. Friends congratulating you. Family calling and trying to get answers. After receiving enough attention, you shut your phone off.
You didn't know what to think or feel. Should you be mad at what Bakugo did?
Meow. Frost rubbed his little white furry head on your arm. Blue eyes staring back at you.
You looked over to your phone, hoping things had calmed down. Till another message popped up.
Boom
I did it to get the media off my back, they are annoying as hell. I wasn't thinking straight.
Sighing, you gently scratched behind Frost's ears as he curled up into your lap.
The media are the most pushy and nosey people you've ever met. Sticking cameras and microphones in faces as if personal bubbles meant nothing. But why did he pick you? He could've picked anyone. Hell, if he wanted to, he could've created an imagined lover.
You know what, it might actually be a good idea to go along.
You looked over Gion, Kyoto, watching. The low lights brighten each path. Quiet, as only a few civilians strolled below. Pink cherry leaves drift away from the blossom trees. It will never replace Musutafu, but it was still gorgeous.
Despite the midnight breeze blowing the loose ends of hair, you felt...off. Nervous maybe?
Breathing in the fresh air, your lips tug softly- grateful for this patrol. After everything, being trapped in the small car with Bakugo hadn't exactly been on your agenda. At least you talked things out.
The message icon popped into your vision. Placing a hand over the earcovers, you spoke.
Static buzzed in your ear. "From Boom," the familiar robotic voice began. "Are you sure we can't back out now?"
You chuckled. Although the voice stayed emotionless, you could imagine the slight grumbling Bakugo would've made.
Smirking, you still wondered how the number one Pro Hero, Deku, got out of going.
Ever since UA, Bakugo wasn't the greatest at socializing, probably his least favorite task in hero work. Or the annoying paperwork sitting on the desk after each mission, little or big.
The smile faltered- The gala...The media. Your fake relastionship.
"Holy shit," you mumbled. This is the first outing....How will the media act? How would you act?
Like Bakugo's significant other. Put on the show.
"Keep your guard up," you said, still looking into the small mirror as you fixed anything out of place.
"This isn't my first rodeo."
In your peripheral vision, Bakugo leans back into the wide leather seat, the back jacket stretched as it revealed the bright orange tie, with little flowers curling down. Just like the waist tie Bakugo insisted your wear- matching, of course.
You sighed, slamming the mirror shut with a snap. "I guarantee there will be an attack tonight. No sane person would pass up the opportunity to attack a building filled with top heroes from all over the world."
Bakugo smirked, looking back at you. "You have a plan, don't you?"
The long and fancy limousine slowed down, coming to a complete stop. Bakugo could already hear them. People shouting, cameras shuttering every second, flashes making their way into the car.
"Ready to give a performance?" Bakugo asked as he stood up, pulling his tie. To be honest, he was nervous himself. He could feel the stickiness in his hands.
It's just walking down the red carpet.
He watched as your chest rose before you nodded.
The door slid open- flashes already blinding. Bakugo steps out, before turning back and asking for your hand.
Your heels clicked the floor as your arm now draped over his.
The media shouts- cameras and microphones pushed past the small barrier that kept them away. Followed by questions.
Bakugo felt you pull closer to him, waving your hand as you walked down the red carpet. He took smaller steps- not because he needed to, but because it looked good.
"Give us a kiss!" One shouted over the others.
Everyone stopped. Cameras go silent.
Bakugo glanced over to you, as you stared back at him with those adorable widened eyes.
Fuck. He had no idea how comfortable you are with this. This wasn't what he talked about.
He turns, now facing you. But instead of any gestures like cupping the face or grabbing your side, he carefully places a hand by his chest, pointing up. Hoping you would get the hint.
But instead, you grabbed his tie, pulling Bakugo closer than ever. And you leaned in, pressing your soft lips on his. And you held it there.
Everyone snaps pictures, even after you lean down, smiling as you fix his tie. It wasn't long enough; he wanted more, still feeling the soft warmth of your lips as you headed into the building.
The spotlights were too bright. Bakugo's whole body went tense, hairs prickling. Something was wrong- the shift in the air behind him. The creak so tiny that only someone on the stage would hear. You heard it too. He couldn't see anything, but his gut knew.
He suddenly felt too tall on the stage, too exposed, every eye on him. He glanced your way, watching your knuckles turn white around the microphone.
"Good evening, Ladies and Gentlemen!" You began, stepping forward. "A big thank you to Kyoto for hosting this gala."
As you finish, he knew it was his turn. Chest raising before holding the slightly heavy microphone to his lips.
Come on, you have one sentence.
"As the representation of Musutafu, over twenty of our agencies have donated to this cause."
Perfect. Flawless, no hesitation. Thanks to you, he played his part in the speech.
"And we thank every hero here and there. Inside and outside. You have spent your time-"
His microphone slips, hits the floor, and clatters against the wood. Followed by another. He winced at the sharp buzzing echoing in the room- then froze.
You were on the floor, red slowly blooming on your dress.
No.
Shit. He can't lose you-
"I'll wink as our signal to separate."
His foot shifted- not even a step in before it pressed hard on his temple.
Bakugo didn't.
He needed to stay calm.
Even when the room went dead silent.