Emmaafinchh - ･ﾟﾟ･⊹ Em⊹･ﾟﾟ･

The Things He Doesn't Know — K. Bakugo

This is a series, so other parts will be here!

☞ Link: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5.

Bakugo x female reader (Slight Sero x reader)

Synopsis: When you realize you're in love with your childhood best friend, but force you're feeling's down for the sake of your friendship.

Author's note: Low-key feel like I'm losing the plot, anyhow Bakugo lore and finally an interaction with him tehe. Enjoy everyone!

The past week had been rough. Even after apologizing to Kimiko, she was still pissed. It had taken a whole lot of convincing from everyone for her to stop glaring at you, or at least pretend she wasn’t mad to your face.

She also made it clear you were out of the Bakugo setup plans. She never directly said so, but you could tell she didn’t want you around.

Not that you minded.

Mina and Jirou still kept you updated on the drama, but honestly? You were done hearing about Kimiko drooling over Bakugo.

The last thing you needed was more drama from your outburst.

Unfortunately, avoiding it wasn’t going to be easy, not with today’s plans.

The Bakusquad, along with Kimiko, had decided to get ice cream together.

You stepped out of your dorm, only to find Sero waiting for you.

“I figured we’d head down together,” he said casually.

“Oh. Yeah, sure,” you replied, smiling, falling into step beside him as you made your way to the elevator.

As the doors closed, Sero pressed the button for the common room and glanced at you. “So… you okay? I know everything with Kimiko probably got to you.”

You hesitated, then exhaled. “Yeah, I’m okay. You really helped, y’know.”

Sero smiled, his voice softer than usual. “Yeah? Well… anything for you, Y/N.”

You looked at each other for a second too long.

The warmth in his gaze made something twist in your chest, a twist that's been happening a lot lately.

Then the elevator dinged, and the moment disappeared.

Sero stepped aside, letting you exit first.

Down in the common room, the others were already gathered, Jirou, Kaminari, Mina, Kirishima… and Bakugo.

“There’s my favorite girl!” Mina grinned, bouncing over and looping her arm through yours, dragging you away from Sero.

“Finally! Let’s go, I need ice cream, like, now,” Kaminari whined.

“No, you idiot,” Jirou said, smacking his arm. “We’re still waiting for Kimiko.”

Kaminari groaned and collapsed onto the couch dramatically. “Ughhh, come on.”

After a few minutes, Kimiko finally arrived, dressed in an orange sundress that flared around her knees.

“Hey, everyone!” she chirped.

Mina gasped. “Oh my God, you look so pretty!”

Jirou nodded in agreement. “Yeah, nice outfit.”

Kirishima grinned. “Looking good, Kimiko!”

Sero, much to your annoyance, looked slightly flustered, his face tinted pink.

Bakugo, on the other hand, merely tapped his foot impatiently.

“Okay, can we go now?” Bakugo grumbled.

“ICE CREAM, ICE CREAM, ICE CREAM!” Kaminari chanted, marching out the door.

Jirou rolled her eyes but followed after him.

The rest of you trailed behind, leaving campus and heading into the city.

On the way, Kimiko playfully teased Bakugo, but he barely reacted. If anything, he just looked bored.

“So, where exactly are we going?” You asked Mina.

“Oh, it’s this place called Frosty’s!”

Frosty’s?

You blinked. The name alone sent a wave of nostalgia crashing over you.

You snuck a glance at Bakugo, wondering if he remembered.

Frosty’s was... special.

You and Bakugo had first come here when you were wide-eyed kids, eager for ice cream. The place was small, family-owned, with faded walls and an old-school charm.

You both always ordered the same thing: vanilla with sprinkles. Bakugo swore his tasted better, even though they were identical.

But that wasn’t what made it special.

No, what made it special was the fact that it was where you and Bakugo had your first kiss.

You were twelve freshly into middle school. Dating and crushes had started becoming a thing, but neither of you had been interested. Bakugo was too focused on becoming N.1, and you had always been too shy to think about it.

That day, you had both been sitting outside on the worn-down bench, eating your ice cream, when he asked out of nowhere...

“Have you had your first kiss?”

The question had caught you off guard. You had licked your ice cream, avoiding his gaze.

“No… have you?”

He had muttered, “No.” Then he kicked at a loose rock on the ground, his voice unusually hesitant.

“We should just… get it over with. Y’know, so we’re not behind or whatever.”

You weren’t sure why you agreed. Maybe curiosity. Maybe the tiny part of you that had always been drawn to him.

“…Okay.”

You had leaned in, your noses awkwardly bumping before your lips met. It was quick, clumsy, and a little embarrassing. Neither of you had ever brought it up again. Maybe because you were both mortified. Or maybe… maybe, because it had meant something neither of you were ready to face.

“Y/N?” Mina’s voice snapped you out of the memory.

“Huh?”

“What are you getting?” she asked, already holding her own cone.

You barely had to think. “Vanilla with sprinkles.”

Mina groaned. “Ugh, you and Bakugo are so boring.”

At that, you glanced over, and sure enough, Bakugo was sitting at a table, eating vanilla with sprinkles.

You shook your head fondly and paid for your order. The group headed outside, and your eyes immediately found the old bench. Without thinking, you sat down, lost in thought.

Your feelings for Bakugo.

Kimiko.

Everything.

A moment later, someone sat beside you.

Bakugo.

You both sat in silence, the weight of unspoken words settling between you. Then, without looking at you, he muttered, “You remember this place?”

Your grip tightened slightly on your cone.

“…Yeah. Do you?”

“Tch. ‘Course I do.”

A pause. Then...

“You were a horrible kisser,” he remarked.

You scoffed. “Oh, like you were any better.”

He clicked his tongue but didn’t argue.

For a moment, the air between you felt lighter. No Kimiko. No drama.

Just you and him. Just like before. Just how it'd always been.

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Tags: @tsukikoxo @pet1t3 @anon-mouse223 @nepenthes-things @hakkoyo @ita606 @raeroowrites @dreamybabbyy @ghostkat23 @channnee @sanriihoe @ch3rryjampi3 @eyesforbkg @charlotterosea13 @chuugarettes @mtsudaa @myblogsucks @emmaafinchh @adherethecomingofage @uhsakusa @shewki @galaneiaeris @surprisemodafakas @uhnanix @ilovemushroomss @bakunianadecorazon @bonbonbytes

This is so felt lmao

I'm so sorry for being dead. I'm stuck studying for an accounting exam on Thursday 😭

would you ever write for young Snow? like outside of the 10th hunger games au you talked about for And They'd Find Us in A Week? Please mother I hungerrrr

tbh I don't find Tom Blithe attractive. Like, nothing against the actor, but I felt like I was being gaslit into thinking he was a heartthrob, but I just don't get it! It feels like the Paul Dano plague that happened when Batman came out. Like, Tom had the craziness down, but the pretty boy, trusting act Corio used to trick everyone in the book doesn't translate well in the movie for me bc that man is neither a pretty boy OR trusting. Like, fr I don't know how anyone trusted a thing outta that man's mouth, he does NOT look trustworthy!!!! I wouldn't trust him to piss on me if I was on fire.

You know who I would trust and follow blindly? Blond Callum Turner!!!! Look at him!

LOOOOOOKKKKKKKKK

I knows he's brunet in the last one but that's my man and you WILL listen

IT EVEN LOOKS LIKE HE'S IN THE PEACEKEEPER JUMPSUIT IN THIS ONE

Mannnn yall don't wanna hear me, you just wanna dance 🙄

But, yeah, I'll write for young Corio, but ONLY this one.

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there is a huge difference between criticizing an institution and criticizing individual behavior. i can criticize the makeup industry without criticizing the 14 year old girl who uses concealer because she’s self-conscious about her acne; i can criticize the plastic surgery industry without vilifying the woman who decided to get a nose job after two decades of pointed comments and bullying. it is intellectually dishonest to respond to an institutional criticism as if it were a personal attack; on the flip side, it is cruel and unnecessary to leverage personal attacks in the name of institutional criticism

if i see one (1) more person respond to a perfectly reasonable beauty-industry-critical sentiment with “but i personally enjoy eyeshadow. why are you attacking people who like eyeshadow :(” or “exactly, all women who wear makeup are miserable and brainwashed” i am going to climb a tree and bite the top of it

A Night With You || Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

CW: N/A

Rating: SFW

Desc: Domestic cuddling and comfort fic

Like this fic? Reblogs > likes, though both are appreciated!

Bakugou entered the house, slipping off his shoes by the door. The day had been long, but he was home now, and that was all that mattered. He headed straight to the kitchen, grabbing a yogurt cup from the fridge and a spoon from the drawer next to it. He could feel the quiet that hung in the air, the kind of silence that seemed to weigh heavily on everything around him.

Carrying the yogurt down the hall, he paused outside your bedroom door. The soft sound of your crying made his stomach twist in knots. He stood there for a moment, unsure, but eventually pushed the door open.

You were curled up in bed, a small figure swallowed by the blanket, your shoulders shaking with each sob. Bakugou's heart tightened, but he didn't let it show. Instead, he walked over and sat on his side of the bed, setting the yogurt cup and spoon on the bedside table. The room was heavy with the quiet except for the sound of your crying. He wasn't one for big, emotional speeches, and you both knew that, but the silence stretched on longer than he expected.

"What happened this time?" he asked, his tone less harsh than usual, but still covered with frustration. He hated seeing you like this, but he never quite knew what to say to make it better.

You only cried harder, burying yourself further into the covers as if you were trying to disappear. Bakugou let out a frustrated sigh as he laid down beside you, his body instinctively reaching for yours, but he paused.

"Can I touch you?" he asked, his voice quieter, almost hesitant. It wasn't a question he asked often, but he knew you needed comfort, and that was how he would give it.

You nodded, not knowing what would come out if you spoke. He wrapped his arms around your shaking figure, pulling you into his chest. For a few moments, the world outside of the two of you disappeared. You peeked your head out from under the covers, tears still streaming down your face. Bakugou stared at you, his expression as serious as ever, but if you looked close enough, you could see the concern in his eyes. He wasn't good with words, but he knew how to make you feel safe.

You buried your face in his chest, crying harder, the weight of everything pressing down on you. His arms tightened around you, not in a crushing way, but in a way that promised he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

The minutes passed in the quiet of the room, the two of you simply existing together. His warmth comforting you in a way that words couldn’t. You didn’t need to speak for him to understand. He wasn’t perfect, and neither were you, but in that moment, you knew you had each other. No matter what, you always would.

callum turner the boys in the boat, 2023

If you haven’t read this get ur butt on this

CHAPTER 11: KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER

pairing: aged up!katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

summary: After six intense years in Japan, YN LN has firmly established herself as a renowned gym owner. She's known by many pros for her charm, strength, and boxing abilities. She has a strong support system and amazing friends... her life in Japan was everything she dreamed it would be.

But everything changes one fateful night when a mysterious package appears on her doorstep. No note, no return address—just a plain box wrapped with a single pearly pink ribbon. As she unravels the contents of the box, she’s drawn into a dark, twisted mystery that seems to reach deep into her own past—a past she thought she had buried when she left her old life behind.

wc: 3.6k

an: Another cliffhanger I'm sorry, dont be mad at me.

---

If there was one thing Katsuki Bakugo wanted in his current life, it was you. After the car crash, rage consumed him, his mind bent on tearing apart the driver responsible. But everything shifted when he heard Kirishima's frantic voice calling his name. The look on Kirishima's face made his heart plummet into his stomach.

He had barely dropped the man he intended to pummel when blinding white lights flooded the area. Three cars screeched to a stop, surrounding him and Kirishima.

Then, a man stepped out—tall, pale, and with piercing green eyes that Bakugo could never forget. Moretti.

Instinct screamed at him to run to you, to grab you and flee. He tried, unleashing explosion after explosion, each blast aimed at Moretti and his men. But amidst the chaos, Kirishima had disappeared to get help, and Moretti’s men had reached the wreckage.

They were pulling you out of the car. Limp, lifeless. Blood poured from your leg, staining the ground in a deep crimson pool.

“Get in the car, or I shoot the girl,” Moretti commanded, his tone as cold as steel.

Bakugo froze. There was no real choice. His gaze locked on you—your ghostly pale skin, hair matted with blood and dirt. You looked strangely serene, as if you'd made peace with the horror unfolding.

He wouldn’t let them kill you. Not while he was alive to stop it.

So he got in the car, seething with suppressed fury as they bound a tourniquet around your leg and checked your pulse. The contradiction gnawed at him: Moretti threatened your life, yet kept you alive. Why?

Now he sat in a chair too small for his broad frame, wrists bound but mind racing. Across the room, you lay unconscious, your chest rising and falling faintly—a fragile sign of life.

Your skin was deathly pale, a dark wound visible just above the blindfold they’d placed over your eyes. The blindfold seemed ridiculous—after all, you’d been unconscious for hours.

For two excruciatingly silent hours, he hadn’t seen or heard anyone and it was driving him mad.

The warehouse they were in was heavily guarded. Armed men patrolled the perimeter like it was a military base. Inside the room, there was only one door and a single vent leading who knew where. Security cameras loomed over the room, scanning every corner—except behind him.

He flexed against the ropes, testing their strength. He had to get out, to get you somewhere safe.

It was painfully clear now that you weren’t working for Moretti. Guilt hit him like a sucker punch as he remembered his earlier accusations. He’d jumped to conclusions, faster than he ever had before.

The thought of you lying to him, keeping something so monumental hidden, had stung more than he’d imagined. But the sight of you now—broken, fragile—eclipsed his hurt.

If you both made it out of this, he’d spend every day making it up to you.

He knew Kirishima had to be rallying backup, but the real challenge was figuring out where they were.

And then there was James. Whatever your connection to him, Bakugo had to hope James had realized you were missing.

But right now, nothing else mattered except getting you out alive.

---

When you first came to, you were met with complete darkness. A coarse fabric was draped over your face, muffling your breath and adding to the suffocating sense of confinement. You tried to move, but your wrists were bound tightly behind you, the rough texture of rope biting into your skin. The faint ache in your leg brought the memories flooding back—the car crash, the chaos, and then... nothing.

The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the distant sound of dripping water. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but the shift in the air told you all you needed to know: Moretti had found you.

The harsh scrape of a chair across concrete jolted you. You flinched instinctively, your pulse quickening as a familiar presence filled the room. That scent—carmel and musk, faint but distinct—was unmistakable.

“Stupid fucking chair.”

Bakugo’s voice cut through the darkness, low and gruff, filled with irritation.

Relief and dread tangled together in your chest. He was here. They had taken him too. Your heart sank at the realization. Not only had you been captured, but now the one person you’d tried to protect was caught in this nightmare with you.

You remained silent, your breathing shallow as you processed your surroundings. The pressure wrapped around your thigh was unmistakable—a makeshift tourniquet, crudely tied but effective. The pain was simmering, dulled only by the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

The scrape of Bakugo’s chair yanked you from your thoughts.

“Stop. Head hurts,” you muttered hoarsely, wincing at the sound of your own voice.

The noise ceased, leaving the room to drown in silence once more.

“Fuck, you’re alive,” Bakugo muttered, almost to himself.

“Mmm,” you hummed, your mind still foggy. “How’d Moretti get you?”

“How’d you know it was Moretti?”

The words slipped out before you could think. “He’s notorious for tying people up in chairs. Plus, I can feel him.”

“Feel him?”

“Are you gonna keep asking questions?” you shot back weakly.

His voice darkened, low and dangerous. “Are you gonna keep lying to me?”

The accusation hit you harder than you expected, but now wasn’t the time to argue. “I only lied to you because I care for you.”

“Right.”

The weight of his skepticism pressed down on you. You needed to steer the conversation elsewhere.

“Do you have a blindfold on?”

“No, but hands are tied.”

The deadpan response caught you off guard, and before you knew it, laughter bubbled out of you. It wasn’t the right time, and you knew it, but the absurdity of the situation made your head spin.

“Glad to see you still have a sense of humor.” Bakugo snapped, his irritation palpable.

You struggled to catch your breath between fits of giggles. “I’m sorry—it’s not funny… it’s just—how did they even capture you?”

“They rolled up on us after the crash,” he admitted, his tone sharp. “They were gonna kill you if I didn’t comply. I had no choice.”

The laughter died in your throat, replaced by a lump of guilt.

“Yeah, not so funny now,” he added bitterly.

You bit your lip, your mind racing. There was only one reason Moretti would take Bakugo—it wasn’t just about you anymore. Moretti had been watching, studying you, and he knew exactly what buttons to press.

“Katsuki—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he cut you off, already piecing it together.

“Why?” you whispered.

"Cause I couldn’t stand there and watch another man take you. Even if nothin’ made sense,” he murmured, the softness in his voice catching you off guard.

“I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you,” you said quietly.

“Did—was anything ever real?”

The question hung in the air like a blade poised to strike. Of course it was real. The way your heart beat for him was real. 

“The way I feel about you is real,” you said, your voice trembling.

You could feel his eyes on you, even through the darkness. A smile crept onto your face despite the situation. “Stop staring at me like that.”

“Wha—”

“I have a lot to explain to you,” you said, cutting him off.

“Yeah.”

“Is Kiri okay?” You asked, redirecting the conversation again.

“Yeah, he was able to escape before they got to him.”

Relief washed over you. The plan you and Kirishima had made flickered in your mind. He’d be on his way to the cabin now.

“Good,” you muttered.

Bakugo spoke up, an unusual softness to his voice. “M’sorry. Thought you were working with him.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head even though you knew he couldn’t see it. “I’d never work for a person like Moretti.”

“Then how are you tied to him?”

“No relation. Just a scumbag I want dead,” you said bluntly.

“Tch. Tell me about it.”

“One day,” you promised, your voice dropping to a whisper. “I’ll tell you everything. But right now, we don’t have time.”

The air shifted again, heavier now, as if Moretti’s presence loomed closer. You could sense it before it happened.

The sound of footsteps echoed from outside the room, growing louder. Bakugo stiffened in his chair, and you could feel his energy change, coiling like a spring ready to snap.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” he growled, his voice like thunder as the door creaked open and footsteps moved towards you. 

A pair of hands fiddled with the knot of your blindfold, yanking it away. Blinding white light seared your eyes, and you blinked rapidly to adjust. When your vision cleared, there he was: Moretti.

His piercing green eyes bored into yours with a predatory gleam, a smug smile spreading across his face. He looked older than you remembered, the years of prison etched into the lines around his mouth and eyes, but the malice was as strong as ever.

“Well, isn’t this a treat? Two of Japan’s finest, tied up like common prey,” Moretti drawled, his voice dripping with venom. “Dynamight, the explosive hothead. And Y/N, America's sweetheart. Tell me, do you think the public will mourn you more if I kill you together or one at a time?”

The tension in the room thickened like a fog, suffocating and heavy. Bakugo’s crimson eyes burned with defiance as he pulled against his restraints, the cords creaking ominously under the strain. “Try it,” he spat, his voice a razor-edged promise. “See how far you get before I blow your head off.”

Moretti chuckled, a low, mirthless sound that sent a chill down your spine. “Ah, there’s that famous temper. But let’s not forget who’s holding all the cards here, Dynamight.” He gestured to you, his fingers grazing your cheek in a way that made your stomach churn. “One wrong move, and she’s gone.”

Bakugo’s jaw tightened, his entire body trembling with barely contained rage. He wanted to lash out, to reduce the entire building to ash, but the sight of you—still pale, still weak—kept him anchored.

You shifted slightly, your hands numb from the ropes biting into your wrists. Despite the fear gnawing at your resolve, you forced yourself to speak. “You wont kill me.” Your voice was hoarse, but steady enough to earn his attention.

Moretti’s smug expression didn’t falter. If anything, his predatory smile widened, his piercing green eyes boring into yours with a sinister gleam.

“Of course, you’d say that,” he drawled, his voice low and venomous. “But let’s not play coy. I didn’t kidnap you on a whim. I know exactly what you know.”

You froze, the ropes biting into your wrists as your blood turned to ice.

“That’s right,” Moretti continued, circling your chair like a vulture. “You know where my daughter is. The one thing the police couldn’t break out of you, even when you testified. You kept that little secret buried, didn’t you? To protect her, I assume. But how long do you think you can hold onto it when his life is on the line?”

Bakugo’s eyes flicked toward you, sharp with confusion and fury. “What the hell is he talking about?”

Moretti’s grin widened as he watched Bakugo’s expression twist with confusion and rage. “You really don’t know, do you?” he said, a mockery of sympathy in his tone. “Oh, this is rich. Japan’s greatest hero, clueless about the woman sitting next to him.”

Moretti turned his attention back to you, his green eyes gleaming with amusement. “You didn’t tell him?” He leaned in closer, his voice dripping with mock disbelief. “You mean to say you’ve been playing the role of a helpless civilian this whole time? That’s cold, even for you, Nova.”

Bakugo’s gaze snapped to you, the weight of Moretti’s words settling between you like a live wire. “Nova?” he questioned, his voice low and dangerous. “What’s he talking about?”

Your stomach churned, but you kept your expression neutral. “Don’t listen to him,” you said quickly.

Moretti laughed, the sound cutting through the tension like a blade. “Oh, no, no, no. Let’s not brush past this. Dynamight deserves to know who he’s risking his life for.”

He straightened, turning to Bakugo with an almost theatrical flourish. “Meet Nova, America’s former golden girl. Once a top-tier hero in her own right—complete with a shiny little quirk she’s kept hidden from you.”

Bakugo’s eyes widened slightly before narrowing into slits. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” Moretti raised a brow, then gestured toward you. “Go ahead, ask her. Ask her about the years she spent hunting down villains like me. About the testimony that put me in prison. About the daughter she stole from me.”

“Shut up,” you snapped, your voice cutting through the air like a whip.

But Bakugo was already staring at you, his crimson eyes ablaze with confusion and betrayal. “Is it true?”

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. 

Moretti clapped his hands together, delighted by the unraveling tension. “Ah, the sweet taste of betrayal. Isn’t it delicious?”

“Shut the hell up!” Bakugo snapped, his glare burning a hole through Moretti.

Moretti’s cold, predatory smile grew as he savored the moment, watching Bakugo struggle with the weight of his words. “And if you thought this was the worst of it, you’re in for a surprise, Dynamight.” He turned back to you, his gaze like a vulture eyeing its prey. “She didn’t just hide her quirk from you, or hide who she was. No, she faked her death.”

Bakugo’s eyes snapped to you, the fury and confusion in his gaze sharp enough to cut through steel. “You were the hero that died in the car accident?” 

Moretti’s laugh echoed around the room, harsh and mocking. “Yes, indeed. That little stunt she pulled after her so-called ‘hero career’ ended. She made everyone believe she was dead—her friends, her family, even the people she’d worked with. But the truth is, she’s been hiding from me. Hiding because she knows I’ll never stop hunting her. Not while I’m still breathing.”

Your heart hammered in your chest. This was worse than you could have imagined. Moretti was unraveling everything you’d fought so hard to bury. Every secret, every lie, coming to the surface in the worst way possible.

Bakugo’s gaze never left you, his expression a mixture of disbelief, anger, and hurt. “Why?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I had no choice,” you said, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to stay calm. “Moretti was looking for me. He had connections everywhere. I couldn’t let him find me, so I made them believe I was dead. I had to disappear. I couldn’t risk anyone else getting hurt.”

He leaned closer, his grin widening. “Your precious Nova here is the reason I rotted in prison for six years. She testified against me. She took everything from me.”

You struggled against the ropes, your voice steady despite the tremble in your body. “You don’t deserve to find her. After everything you’ve done, after all the lives you’ve destroyed, she’s better off without you.”

Moretti’s smile disappeared, replaced by a dangerous glint in his eyes. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper. “You don’t get to decide that.”

Bakugo snarled, thrashing against his restraints. “You touch her, and I’ll kill you. I swear to god, I’ll rip you apart!”

Moretti glanced at him, amused. “Oh, its not her you should be worried about Dynamight. No, I’ll break her—piece by piece— as she watches, until she tells me what I want to know.”

He straightened, motioning to the guard still holding the syringe. “And when she does, I’ll kill her anyway. After all, she’s the reason I lost everything. Call it poetic justice.”

The guard stepped closer to Bakugo, gripping his arm, and panic surged through you. “Moretti, if you hurt him, you’ll never find her,” you said quickly, your voice rising.

That gave him pause. He raised a hand, signaling the guard to stop, and turned to you with narrowed eyes. 

“You know I’m the only one who knows where she is,” you said, forcing yourself to keep calm. “If you kill him—or push me too far—you’ll lose any chance of finding her. Forever.”

Moretti’s jaw tightened, his expression unreadable. He leaned in close, his voice a low growl. “Then start talking. Or I’ll make sure you wish I’d killed you instead.”

Beside you, Bakugo’s crimson eyes blazed with rage and desperation. “Don’t tell him anything!” he shouted. “He’s lying—he’ll kill you no matter what!”

But you weren’t ready to give up. Not yet. You had to play this carefully, or neither of you would make it out alive.

Taking a deep breath, you looked up at him. “She’s dead.” 

Moretti froze, his eyes narrowing, his hand still suspended in the air, ready to give another order. The silence that followed felt like an eternity. Bakugo's furious protests faded into the background as Moretti processed your words.

“What did you just say?” Moretti’s voice was low, dangerously calm.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to hold your ground. “She’s dead. Milly’s gone.”

Moretti’s gaze turned icy, a flicker of disbelief flashing across his features. “You’re lying,” he hissed. “You’re just trying to buy yourself time.”

But the raw edge of fear in his eyes gave him away. He was already questioning everything.

“I’m not lying,” you said, your voice unwavering despite the terror clawing at your chest. “I knew you’d come for her. After I received your little ‘gift,’ I realized I had to act. She didn’t deserve a life with you as her father, so I did what had to be done.”

Moretti’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. “What are you talking about? What did you do?”

“She’s in a place now where you’ll never reach her,” you continued, your words cold, resolute. “A place where you can’t hurt her anymore.”

Moretti’s expression twisted into a snarl. “WHAT DID YOU DO?”

The room seemed to grow colder at the intensity of Moretti’s roar. His fists clenched tightly at his sides, and his breathing quickened as his eyes locked onto you, as if trying to burn a hole through you with sheer force of will.

You held his gaze, knowing full well what you had just said would push him beyond the edge. “I did what I had to do,” you repeated, your voice firm even as your heart hammered in your chest. “She’s gone, Moretti. I made sure she was safe. You will never find her. No one will. She’s in a place where you can’t touch her anymore.”

Moretti’s chest heaved, his anger mounting with each word you spoke. “No,” he spat, his voice low and dangerous. “No, you didn’t. You didn’t do this. You didn’t kill my daughter.”

“I did,” you said, the weight of your lies sinking deep into your chest. “I made sure she was free of you. From your cruelty, your obsession. I couldn’t let her grow up under the shadow of someone like you. You’re a monster, Moretti. And she didn’t deserve that life.”

Moretti’s face twisted in fury, his eyes wild with disbelief. He took a step toward you, the threat of violence hanging in the air. “You’re lying. You’re lying to protect yourself. Tell me where she is. NOW.”

The guard, still holding Bakugo's arm, prepared the needle, but you hadn't noticed. You were focused on Moretti—the man who had destroyed so many lives, including his own daughter’s. You didn’t back down.

“She’s gone, Moretti,” you repeated, your voice colder now. “I ended her suffering. And now you’ll never get your hands on her. Not now, not ever.”

The silence in the room was suffocating, thick with the heavy realization settling in Moretti’s mind. His jaw clenched, his muscles trembling with barely contained rage, but there was something else there, something darker: desperation. He had nothing left to hold onto.

“You think I’ll let you get away with this?” he growled, taking another step forward, his hand reaching out as if to strike you. But something in your eyes, something in your stance, seemed to hold him at bay. For a brief moment, the fury in his eyes faltered.

“You already lost her,” you said, your voice low, cold with the finality of it all. “And now, the only thing left to you is vengeance.”

The guard beside Bakugo glanced nervously at Moretti, who was seething with rage, but it was clear he was struggling to process the depth of what you had just said. His emotions were a storm, a swirl of grief and anger, confusion and disbelief.

“Take her down the hall,” Moretti commanded, his voice sharp and final as the guard moved from Bakugo to your side.

You glanced over at Bakugo, watching his face twist in confusion and fury as he processed the weight of your words. His protests grew louder, his anger mounting with each passing second. But the guard was relentless, yanking you to your feet and dragging you toward the door.

You didn’t know if you’d ever see Bakugo again, but in that moment, you knew this was the only way. Moretti would stop at nothing to get what he wanted—he’d torture you until you spoke. So, you had given him the answer he was desperate for.

Now, all you could do was hope. Hope that while Moretti took his time with you, it would give Bakugo the chance to escape, to find a way out before it was too late.

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