It Was Inevitable, You Just Chose To Cover Your Eyes And Ears When He Showed You. Tight Skirts, Crop

incendiary | 5 | bakugou x reader

pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Fem Reader

length: 3.5k | 5th of 8 chapters

summary: When you accidentally go viral in defense of quirkless people, an extremist group puts a target on your back. Pro hero Dynamight is the last person you want watching it.

tags/warnings:  enemies to lovers, themes of discrimination (please see note in fic masterpost), canon typical violence, eventual smut, aged up characters

series masterlist

Almost overnight, things began to change.

Bakugou had apparently decided that ignoring you was off the table now, and he was there the next morning when you awoke, audibly puttering around the kitchen, making his usual ruckus of kitchenware sounds. You listened to him work, slowly blinking awake, trying not to think too hard about the events of last night.

He came back into the living room only a few minutes later, bearing two plates of western-style breakfast, piled high with fluffy mounds of scrambled eggs and perfectly golden potatoes. He shoved a plate in front of you like he’d already sensed that you were awake, then retreated back to the kitchen. He returned with two mugs of hot coffee that smelled heavenly–almost certainly fair trade and freshly ground.

He put one in front of you, then dropped down to his place on the opposite side of the coffee table, watching you scrabble out of the blankets with something like a smirk pressing at the corner of his mouth, as if he knew his food was the fire under your feet.

“New rule, brat,” he pronounced as you finally freed yourself, flinging yourself down at the table and seizing your utensils.

You couldn’t bring yourself to stop now that you were already in motion, so you fit an entire forkful of potato in your mouth, then looked at him questioningly.

The smirk on his mouth deepened. “Your little stunt yesterday attracted every quirk supremacist in a twenty mile radius to this neighborhood, so you’re gonna have to keep away from the windows until they fuck off.”

You inhaled wrong around your potato, the steam catching in your lungs, and you coughed a little. “What? Quirk supremacists—here?”

Bakugou took a slow sip of his coffee, and you tried not to notice the way his bare bicep flexed as he brought the mug to his mouth. He really needed to invest in shirts with sleeves. “Your little cashier friend from the convenience store apparently leaked video onto YouTube already. The attack’s made a couple of the morning news shows.”

Your stomach churned, and you let your fork clatter back to your plate. “They’ve found us?”

Bakugou’s scarlet gaze tracked your expression over the top of his mug. “Not yet. But people know you’re in the general area now. Genius Office is running ID on all the weirdos showing up around here to find out who they are and what the risk is. But until they know what we’re dealing with, you’re to keep away from the windows. And you’re not going outside again.”

You didn’t think you wanted to go outside again anyway, considering the events of last night. Not for a long while, anyway.

You would never tell him, but it was kind of a relief to have Bakugou in here with you, now, understanding the kinds of people you were up against. But that so sucked, not even being able to poke your nose out a window after weeks of already being cooped up.

You nodded resignedly. You took a sip of your own coffee, then had to suppress a shiver of delight. Definitely freshly ground, and definitely fancy.

“They haven’t seen Matsui, have they?” You asked.

Bakugou shook his head. His hair looked a little messier than yesterday, piecey with gel and slightly flattened on the side he must have slept on. “No. Nothing on Matsui yet.”

You picked up your fork again and went back to your breakfast, at least reassured by that fact.

“Any estimate on how much longer this is gonna go on for?” You asked.

Bakugou scrubbed a hand through that thick golden hair. You watched, strangely enraptured, as it sprang right back up again in wild tufts. “Not much if you keep luring them straight to where you are, princess.”

You frowned into your egg. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Bakugou’s socked foot poked into yours. “It’s a safehouse for a reason. There were ground rules for a reason.”

You scowled. “Yeah yeah, I get it now. Excuse me for never having been the target of a national witch hunt before.”

Bakugou smiled, a wicked, blade-sharp thing. He leaned across the table. “So you’re gonna be good for me now, brat?”

Your fork clattered against your plate, spattering egg everywhere. You jumped in surprise, registering belatedly that you’d dropped it.

“Good for—? Good—?” you spluttered.

If anything, Bakugou’s smile went wider. “Something wrong, princess?” His eyes were practically glowing as he spoke.

What the hell was he doing? It was one thing to stop giving you the cold shoulder and act friendlier in light of everything that had happened yesterday. It was one thing to make you dinner and breakfast and not loom over you while radiating disdain from every pore. But it was entirely another to do—to do—whatever the fuck that was!

You grasped your fork with suddenly numb fingers, pointedly looking away from him. “No.” You shoveled a large potato into your mouth as if to punctuate that statement.

Bakugou just watched you, too knowingly for your taste. “Uh huh,” he said.

You finished your meal at lightspeed, desperate to get away from Bakugou and whatever that had been just now. Bakugou ate more sedately, seeming like he was mulling something over between delicate bites of his breakfast. You did not care to find out what that was.

You brought your dish to the sink when you’d finished and washed it speedily, then beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom, standing in the shower for a long time. Then you crept back to your room and managed a little bit of homework after you’d dressed, though you were a little too unfocused for your liking.

When you checked your phone you found that messages had started to pile up again, with a litany of texts from Megumi crowning the stack.

MEGUMI ✨🍹🌴💕 girl you almost died are you okay 8:58 PM those douchebags omg 8:58 PM please tell me you’re okay i’m really worried about you 9:06 PM

And then, a couple hours later, in typical fashion:

MEGUMI ✨🍹🌴💕 that rescue was so hot though 12:09 AM the way dynamight was all rough with them and then all gentle with you 12:09 AM it’s okay if you’re dead i would have passed away too 12:10 AM

You reassured her that you were fine, then paused, staring at her later messages, mystified. What did she mean, the rescue had been so hot though?

As far as you remembered, Bakugou had come slamming in there, metaphorical guns blazing, and he’d hauled you out of there much the same way. You didn’t think there had been anything particularly sexy about getting your quirkless ass almost handed to you.

Curiosity prickling in your veins, you googled around for the video Bakugou had mentioned, wondering how it had looked so different to someone on the outside. You found an hours-old upload on YouTube entitled dynamight destroys 7-eleven shopfront to save internet legend drunk girl—a title you thought a little unfair considering you had not been drunk this time, even though that was apparently your internet moniker now.

The clip was shot from a vantage point above the register, and started with the back of your head as the two men from yesterday turned the corner and almost immediately began crowding you towards the register. You saw your own face in profile as you peered back at the cashier for help—his own face conveniently hidden from the video’s perspective—and then turned back and said something muted to the two men. The smaller one stepped towards you—you saw yourself take an alarmed step back.

And then, faster than you had remembered—Bakguou was shooting into the store, the glass windows shattering under the blow from the door as he threw it open.

He was just as much a presence on screen as he was in person, all violence and savage grace. You watched as he grabbed the smaller man’s hand and twisted it at a brutal angle, then produced quirk suppressors from where they had been belted under one pant leg, just above his boot. You hadn’t even noticed it, then, hadn’t even thought to question where the quirk suppressor had come from—but he’d been wearing sweatpants yesterday, a pair not unlike the ones he’d been wearing this morning at breakfast.

But he clearly was packing some kind of emergency supply—and you wondered if he was wearing it now, even clanking around in the kitchen.

Then you watched as Bakugou approached you, saw yourself stumble as he grabbed your shirt to pull you out. To your surprise, you could see sudden concern twisting his features, clear as day, and you watched with surprise as he leaned down to look you in the face, hands going under your elbows to support you.

You remembered that—but it had all been so fast, and the sight of his hands, so gentle on you after he’d been so rough with the two men, made something in your stomach shift strangely. He really did seem to be looking after your safety, like an actual certified, probably-not-quirkist pro hero. You watched as Bakugou said something to you, and pulled you up into his arms. You instantly cringed at how truly princess-like you looked—having to be escorted out of the store under someone else’s power.

Embarrassingly, the comments section under the clip seemed particularly focused on that aspect as well.

2:11 ok but the way his arms flexed when he lifted her????? hello?????? jghgl26 2 hours ago Reply [Thumbs Up] 600 [Thumbs Down]

how he’s gonna carry me over the threshold after our wedding dynadaddy’s girl 5 hours ago Reply [Thumbs Up] 1.1k [Thumbs Down]

THE LIFT!!!!! HOLY SHIT!!! HOW EASY IT WAS FOR HIM?? am i gregnant? am i pegnate?? how to know if pregonate????? Rika Abe 2 hours ago Reply [Thumbs Up] 1.7k [Thumbs Down]

A hunted energy creeped over you as you read through them, your skin tingling. It suddenly took everything you had in you to click out of the video and not rewind it to the part where Bakugou had first hefted you into his arms. It had not been that appealing. And there was absolutely no reason you needed to witness the events again, no reason at all.

Bakugou chose that exact moment to rap on your door, and you accidentally flung your phone across the room in surprise, scrambling upright on your bed.

“Uh—come in,” you said, trying to not sound flustered.

Bakugou had clearly showered too as his hair was still damp, and moisture still glittered in the divots of his arm muscles. You clamped down very tightly on the echo of pegnate?? Am i gregnant???? that was suddenly the only sound in your entire brain.

No no no no.

You would not let Megumi and some internet perverts get the best of you.

“Oi, you just gonna sit here all day?” Bakugou demanded.

You frowned up at him. “I have been doing homework, thank you very much,” you said defensively.

Bakugou made a show of surveying your bed which was pointedly empty of any textbooks or notepads. “Yeah, looks like you’re real hard at work, princess.”

“Well I was,” you said, but you could already tell Bakugou had made up his mind.

“It’s time to talk about your second new rule,” he pronounced smugly.

“Another one?” You asked, heart sinking.

That razor sharp smile cut into Bakugou’s mouth again. “Yeah. You’re learning how to cook actual fucking food.”

You paused and stared at him, mystified. “What,” you asked flatly.

“I told you I was sick of watching you eat garbage,” he said. You could almost taste the disdain, dripping off of him like butter off of the baked potato he had so despised. “I can’t keep you alive if you die of fucking scurvy.”

“I eat fruit!” You bit back defensively. “And potatoes are good for treating scurvy!”

Bakugou wasn’t listening, though. Before you knew what was happening, he’d already fisted his hand in the back of your shirt and was hauling you to your feet. You felt like a kitten being scruffed by its intimidatingly well-muscled mother.

“Bakugou–what the hell—?”

But you were already being herded into the kitchen, where Bakugou had apparently preemptively arranged the instruments of your torture—several knives, a grater, a variety of pots, a rainbow of vegetables, an apple, some chicken, and a knob of ginger. Behind it all you spotted several other types of herbs and spices, some flour, and chicken stock.

“You’re gonna make curry, princess,” he informed you imperiously.

Curry! Okay now curry you could kind of do. You peered around for the sauce mix, poking through the ingredients on the counter.

Bakugou watched you, scarlet eyes tracking you curiously. “What,” he asked, though it was barely phrased like a question.

“Where’s the packet?” you asked, not finding it among the things he’d laid out.

Two blonde eyebrows went up, and you swore you could almost see a vein pop in Bakugou’s forehead. He grabbed the counter beside your hip, leaning back in, and you definitely did not notice the definition in his bicep as he did so.

“Packet?” He demanded, in the tones of someone who’d just witnessed their entire family get massacred. “Packet?”

You watched his handsome face work through what had to be the five stages of grief. “If I fucking ever hear about a packet again I’ll sell you to Matsui myself,” he said.

He reached over and slammed a kitchen scale down in front of you, followed by several of the ingredients. “Now pay attention, brat, I’m not showing you this twice.”

You knew better than to argue.

Under Bakugou’s stern direction, a curry roux—a term you would not have been able to supply before he’d said it—came together quickly. He stationed you at the stove, stirring everything together for almost twenty minutes while he chopped vegetables in front of you, a rainbow of carrots, potatoes, onions, and some leftover asparagus and peppers he’d dug out of the fridge. Then he made you grate an apple and some ginger into a paste while he sliced the chicken in expert strokes, narrating everything in his gruff tones.

It was strangely hypnotic, watching Bakugou’s hands work. You’d not paid much attention before, but he had long fingers, almost elegant but for the various scars and calluses that littered his skin, evidence of his career pressed into his fair flesh. You watched his fingers bunch at the end of the knife, the swift, decisive sweep of his palm moving ingredients back and forth on the cutting board.

Your skin prickled with the memory of those hands on you in the hallway after you’d passed out, the image of how gently those hands had handled you in the convenience store, and you shook off the thought, the back of your neck weirdly warm.

They were just hands. And they were Bakugou’s hands, for that matter. Make one wrong move on the end of those hands and you’d get cooked, faster than the curry you were working on now.

Eventually Bakugou divided everything into two bowls, and shepherded you over to the coffee table.

“That’s real curry, princess,” he informed you haughtily as you sat down, blowing on the golden sauce. It shimmered under the living room lighting, curls of steam rising off of it in tempting twists.

If this was real curry, you never wanted to eat anything else. As with dinner and breakfast, it was perfect—expertly seasoned, everything evenly sliced and cooked just right. You hated how much you liked it, suppressing a pleased groan as you shoveled down spoonfuls.

“I hate you for how good this is,” you admitted to him.

A wicked smirk cut the corners of Bakugou’s mouth, and the sight of it raised a strange heat to your face. You shifted uncomfortably.

Whatever. It was probably just the spice in the curry.

After dinner you helped Bakugou wash up, and you were sent for a loop by how easy it was. There was still some kind of… tension… that you couldn’t quite put your finger on, and it wasn’t like he’d done a complete one-eighty in your esteem.

But knowing now that he hadn’t despised you for your quirklessness… hadn’t even actually despised you at all, really. It seemed like it had somehow flipped a switch inside of you. You’d told him that you’d needed more time to think on it, to come to terms with the things that he’d told you about himself. But really, with the air cleared so definitively, well—

You kind of thought maybe Bakugou wasn’t horrible after all.

You still wanted to bite him, actually–that hadn’t gone away–but you definitely didn’t think he was horrible.

The thought unnerved you.

When you were done you retreated to your room, still mulling that idea over, bemused at the idea that Bakugou wasn’t actually bad if you weren’t looking at him through the lens of your quirk supremacist glasses.

You managed a little bit more homework and cleaned up your notes from one of your previous lectures, shooting off a couple questions to one of your TAs. And that’s when you finally noticed it, an email from earlier this afternoon, sitting primly at the top of your inbox. It read: New Day Japan - Interview Request

You opened the email, interest piqued by the mention of one of the country’s most famous morning programs. What it said inside floored you.

Miss L/N, My name is Honda Ichika; I’m a producer here at New Day Japan. We’re airing a segment on the two quirkless anti-discrimination bills currently circulating in the National Diet, and we plan to cover your story in relation. We would love to interview as part of this segment. Specifically, we are hoping you can comment on: - Cultural barriers quirkless civilians face - Your specific experiences with respect to the events portrayed in your viral video and subsequent run-in last evening, as a microcosm of those cultural barriers, and -Your feelings on the efforts of the assembly to pass these anti-discrimination bills. The interview won’t exceed 15 minutes and will take place Thursday morning in our studio in Nakano (address to be provided upon acceptance). While I can’t offer questions ahead of time, I promise the questions will fall within the outline I mentioned above. The story, once completed, will run Friday morning. Please let us know by Sunday what your interest is. Cordially, Honda Ichika

You gaped, stunned by the idea that anyone wanted to interview you about anything.

New Day Japan was a hugely important morning news program that had been running for something like the last fifty years, and it was a massive platform for anyone looking to speak to the average citizen.

You didn’t know that you in particular had anything worthy of that massive platform, and you were squirreled away in a safehouse besides, having just almost eaten it at the hands of two random quirkist assholes just yesterday. So it was probably not a great idea to draw any more attention to yourself, and it wasn’t like you had some huge message you wanted to share at the cost of your safety.

So you closed your laptop instead of answering, pulling up twitter on your phone for something to distract you.

And yet, even as you scrolled, your mind was helplessly drawn back to the email like a magnet, catching on key points. A segment on the two quirkless anti-discrimination bills, the cultural barriers quirkless civilians face….

Please let us know by Sunday what your interest is.

You had two days to either put it out of your mind, or figure out why it was piquing your interest so much. You could give it more thought in the morning.

You wondered absently, as you drifted off to sleep, what Bakugou would make of it.

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining (we're getting there, dw), a lot of cussing (bkg-typical), it's time to meet the bakusquad!, mentions of alcohol, a tiny ass mention of smth nsfw

words. 4.3k (this is getting out of hand. this was way too fun to write, tho!)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 7, part 8

You check your reflection through your phone’s front camera for the umpteenth time, lurching a bit forward and almost smashing your face with the device when the bus you’re riding drives over a bump.

With a sigh, you glance through the window to your right, spotting the familiar landmark that Kirishima mentioned in passing a few days ago.

A few days ago when he waltzed into the conference room in the middle of your heated conversation with Bakugou.

Right when he dropped that nonsensical one-liner, Bakugou was on him in a flash, shoving your other boss so hard that the man stumbled a few steps back in surprise. You watched as they had what seemed to be a wordless exchange, before all the blood appeared to drain from Kirishima’s face, leaving him so pale that you thought the redhead was about to pass out any second.

“Freaking finally—” you recall Kirishima repeating, voice wobbly, “Y-you finally have a g-girlfriend!”

Bakugou didn’t seem too pleased at the shade, encasing his co-founder in a headlock, eventually releasing him after the latter cried out his pleas and apology.

After the man managed to catch his breath, he came up with the suggestion that you hang out with the rest of their friend group.

“It’ll be fun!” he said. “We’d love to get to know you.”

“Tch.” Bakugou merely replied, seemingly not too keen on the idea.

“I don’t know…”

“I can ask PR about it,” Kirishima ignored you, “I bet you being seen with us is good for your image!”

Which leads you to the present moment.

The mechanical voice announces your arrival at the nearest station to the trendy, new, upscale restaurant that Mina specifically picked out for today’s get-together. Kirishima assured you when you, again, showed reluctance when he ran down the details yesterday, saying Kaminari and Sero vouched for it, that it had a built-in arcade or something.

Deep in your thoughts and on autopilot, you hop off the bus and begin your slow but steady trek toward the venue. By the time you reach it, it’s already 6:37 PM, a bit later than your agreed-upon meeting time.

Pushing the glass doors open, you enter the space and swiftly scan the area. Bakugou’s friends, who you just remember also happened to be top pro-heroes, are already packed in a booth near the back of the restaurant. As you walk towards them, you see that Mina, Kirishima, and Sero are seated beside each other while Kaminari is looking a bit lonely on the extra chair at the tail-end of the table. You’re guessing the empty seats in front of the aforementioned three have been reserved for their close friend and you, the fake girlfriend.

Right, you say to yourself. Time to put on a show.

Kirishima is the first one to spot you, and you can’t help the squeeze your heart makes as he visibly brightens up when he does. “Bro, over here!”

At that, you plaster on the friendliest smile you can muster and trudge towards where they are.

“Sorry I’m late, you guys,” you say as you slide into your seat, “I had to call an emergency meeting at work. I came as fast as I could…”

You look at the three, (not really) new faces (because you see them on TV all the time), suddenly feeling nervous and singled out.

Desperate for something familiar to have near you, you ask: “Uh, where’s Bakugou?”

The moment you stutter the question out, you find yourself immediately wanting to take it back, because the air in the room suddenly changes. Sero smirks, Kaminari guffaws, and a devilish grin exponentially grows on Mina’s face.

“Awww, it hasn’t even been ten seconds since you got here and you’re already looking for your mans!” Mina winks at you, “He’s just in the restroom.”

“Bro, it’s about goddamn time Bakugou finally got a girlfriend,” Sero adds.

The girl nods enthusiastically in agreement, “It’s been a long time coming, indeed. Do you have any idea how long he’s been pining for you?”

Negative thirteen days, you think to yourself. But you settle for a hesitant shake of your head.

“Dudes—” Kirishima tries to interject, although his voice is drowned out in the chatter and the marginally too-loud pop music playing in the background.

Sero snorts, “She probably doesn’t, knowing Bakugou. Though—” a look of pure mischief takes over the tape hero’s face as he turns to face you, “—wouldn’t you want to know?”

“I, uh—”

“Remember the first time Bakugou got a text message from her when we were out getting drinks for Ei’s birthday two years ago?” Mina asks the guys, although the question seems more rhetorical than not. “He choked on his beer so hard I was surprised he didn’t cough his freaking lungs out.”

“Mina—” Kirishima tries again.

Sero barks out a laugh at the memory, “That’s nothing compared to when he got so red in the face when I first insinuated he might have a crush that one time he helped me move into my current place. The big guy didn’t even think twice about hurling a box of clothes at me.”

“Sero—”

“Please!” Kaminari finally pipes in, before gesturing the group to get close with a cheesy, ‘come-wither’ gesture. From the corner of your eye, you see Kirishima mouthing something to the blonde but you don’t quite catch it, eyes drifting back to the latter, more curious than you’d like to admit, even if you’re 99% sure they’re making all of this up to humor you.

The electric hero smirks to himself before prolonging the suspenseful air. “Don’t tell him this, but I sneaked into his bedroom during that sleepover we forced him to host during Thanksgiving last year, supposedly to play a harmless prank on him. And get this—I heard him mumble your name in his sleep.”

“Guys!”

Startled, everyone looks at Kirishima, who’s doing the ‘slicing his neck with his hand’ gesture before sheepishly bringing it to rub at his nape when he feels the group’s attention on him. You scan their faces one by one, not knowing how to react yourself, and you notice what you think is realization dawn on everyone’s faces.

Well, everyone except Kaminari.

You look at the guy who’s apparently been looking at you this entire time, and your reaction to his made-up, albeit intriguing story must be priceless because he puffs up with pride before blurting out: “And it sounded like a moan, too!”

Before you can even choke at your spit in response, you see Sero’s long arm appear behind the blonde a split second before he smacks him on the back of the head.

“Hey!” Kaminari cries out, clutching his head in pain, and you can only stare at the situation in front of you, bug-eyed. “What was that for?!”

“That’s for not knowing when to shut up,” Sero hisses, before shifting to face you, a blinding smile now having replaced the chastising look that was on his face just a brief moment ago. “Now, where were we?”

“Aren’t you shitheads going to order?”

You jump at the gruff voice on your left, and you look up to see Bakugou, decked out in his usual black tee and joggers, frowning at you before his eyes dart to study his friends. Wordlessly, he slides into the booth beside you, and you automatically scoot over to make room for him. Suddenly it makes sense to you why his friends designated this entire side to only the two of you—you sometimes forget that their grumpy friend is abnormally huge—a fact that you get reminded of as he brings his arm around to rest on top of the back of your seat, his wingspan covering almost the entire length of it.

It takes a few seconds for everyone to gather their bearings and faithfully decide that no, he probably didn’t hear all of that—he couldn’t, if they wanted to keep their heads attached to the rest of their bodies—but when they do, they all scramble for the menus and act too innocently like they weren’t just making ridiculous shit up behind Bakugou’s back.

You give the man a hesitant smile yourself when he peers at you, before simply passing you the menu Kirishima handed over your direction.

“Hurry up and choose,” he huffs, voice uncharacteristically quiet. “We ain’t got all day.”

Since your boss arrived at your table, the squad hasn’t said a single thing about Bakugou from the past, particularly stories involving you, which further supports your robust theory that they were just trying to embarrass the guy in front of his alleged girlfriend.

No one brings up what has been said, too, and you take that as your cue to follow suit and keep your mouth shut.

Instead, and to your chagrin, they’ve resorted to buzzing around you, asking all sorts of questions about your life like how long you’ve been working at Bakugou and Kirishima’s agency, what kind of work you do, what you like to do for fun, how many siblings you have, and so on. But they’ve especially enjoyed asking you about Bakugou and your budding relationship, dropping a teasing remark or joke every now and then.

Every now and then as in every other sentence.

You’ve been trying to play it off cooly, lying out of your ass while seeming as natural as you can, but Bakugou isn’t taking it as well as you.

Apparently, and you know now, that the man detests being teased—it’s almost comical how red he gets at the slightest taunt, and you failing to repress a chuckle at the sight nearly grants you a shove from the hotheaded blonde. You look at the sole other girl for help, but Mina only grins at you while wiggling her eyebrows playfully as she sits back to witness the exchange.

But aside from all that, you find yourself quickly bringing down your guard and joining in on the conversation every once in a while, eventually coming to the realization that you’re actually having fun.

It doesn’t take a genius to recognize that Bakugou’s friends are great people, and seeing the man in a different environment than the one you usually find him in is interesting, to say the least.

In the midst of great conversation and in the blink of an eye, dinner is served and devoured, and before you know it, it’s 9 PM and everyone except Bakugou and you are around two to three drinks in.

“Come on, man!” Kaminari thrusts a glass of whiskey in Bakugou’s direction. “Let loose a little!”

The man in question merely lets out a ‘Tch’ before swatting the hero’s hand away.

“Don’t worry about him, bestie,” Mina calls out to you reassuringly, noticing you’ve been watching the two as you sipped on your own iced tea. “He just gets cranky when he’s not in bed by 9 PM sharp.”

“How ‘bout you, bro?” Kirishima asks you, this time a glass of gin and tonic in hand. “Are you sure you don’t want a drink?”

You muster the most polite and grateful smile you can. “No thanks, Kirishima-san. I kind of have plans early tomorrow morning.”

Yeah, right, you think to yourself. You just don’t want to risk making a fool of yourself in front of your two bosses and their closest friends.

“Ooooh, is that why Bakugou isn’t drinking as well?” Mina chirps excitedly, “Are you guys doing something tomorrow?”

“Uh, no,” you say, hesitant and irrationally guilty, which swells when Mina’s face drops in palpable disappointment. You scramble to pull out a palatable lie from your ass, “I’m going out of town to meet a good old friend of mine who just got back from the States.”

A chorus of oohs and aahs erupt from the table at your answer; luckily, they don’t press for more details, which you’re grateful for, because you’re running out of lies for the evening.

You feel Bakugou eyeing you at the side, as if trying to figure out if what you just said is true when Sero suddenly speaks up, pointing to the far end of the restaurant.

“Hey, they have a photo booth! Whaddya say we give it a go?”

Everyone cheers in agreement and you find yourself getting ushered into the said photo booth. Kaminari, Kirishima, and Mina plant themselves on the front while you get smushed between Bakugou and Sero at the back. You try not to let the close proximity with your boss get to you as Mina starts handing out the props, which you readily accept with a thanks. You look down at the ‘I’m awesome’ signage and rainbow-colored wig you’re holding, weighing your options, before ultimately deciding to make the sacrifice and give Bakugou the former. His crimson eyes trail to you when you tap his shoulder lightly, and down to the sign when you make the gesture of offering it towards him. He wordlessly takes it off your hands, and you can’t help but snort at how out of place he looks with it. He tosses you a glare, although it seems harmless enough.

“Ready?” Mina shouts, and the rest of you say your affirmation. You go through the motions, everyone changing up their poses and swapping props shot after shot, and you find yourself laughing along with the group as the ruckus unfolds around you. After the last click of the camera, you finally move to return the paraphernalia to the front with Bakugou shadowing you, and follow the rest as they hurriedly pile out of the small space when the sliding door suddenly slams shut.

“What the—” you reach for the indented groove and pull it open, but the door refuses to budge.

“Hey,” Bakugou’s booming voice ricochets within the small space, making you jump. “Quit fucking around, you guys.”

A chorus of laughter erupts from the outside, and only then does it dawn on you that you didn’t get locked in because of some stupid gust of wind.

Kaminari, who’s probably the one holding the door shut sounds positively evil when he pipes up with: “You’re not getting out of there until you do a round with just the two of you.”

“Yeah!” Mina adds excitedly. “And y’all better do those cute poses, you hear me? We’re not going home unless you do the classic kiss on the cheek!”

“Just the cheek?” Sero asks, “You should just go all out, Bakugou!”

“This is their idea, bros. I’m not involved here,” you hear Kirishima say in the background.

Oh motherfucking god.

Refusing to accept what’s happening, you try to pry the door open again, but Kaminari’s not letting up by the slightest. You stare at the door, unable to look at Bakugou and what feels like five minutes pass before the man finally speaks up.

“…Let’s just fucking do it.”

You turn around to gape at him, “E-excuse me?”

He sighs, looking as defeated as you’ve ever seen him, a tinge of pink tinting his cheeks in what you think is irritation. “They’re not gonna back down unless we fucking do what they say. Trust me,” he says as he plops down on one of the seats in front of the camera, “I know them.”

Hesitantly, you take the seat to his left, the feeling of resignation blooming in your stomach at his words. “O-okay, then. We can just quickly take the pictures like normal and we’ll be on our way.”

“No—” he starts, and he looks like it pains him to argue with you, “—if we don’t do this as they instructed, the shitheads are just going to make us do it again and again until we do.”

You flush at the implications of his words, “But—what—surely they’ll be reprimanded for hogging the photo booth?”

Bakugou shakes his head, seeming like he’s already surrendered his soul to the antics of his friends. “They don’t normally abuse their power as heroes, but they will for stupid shit like this.”

You can only blink at him, at a loss for words. If you think about it, it’s unnerving how calm and level-headed he’s being right now when you’re getting close to having a major freakout yourself.

“Well?” The man has the audacity to ask.

You shift awkwardly in your seat, choosing to look at the monitor in front of you instead of the pro-hero who you now realize is way too dangerously close for your comfort. “Okay, so the least number of shots we can go for is four.”

Bakugou grunts in what you think is approval.

You continue, “We can do one where we just sit and smile, another where we form a small heart with our hands to appease Mina, and—fuck, two more…”

You expected you’d be the one to do the agonizing task of directing your poses, so you’re surprised when Bakugou chimes in.

“That’s not enough for bug-eyes,” he says as a matter-of-factly, and you find yourself gulping in nervousness despite yourself. “We’ll have to get closer…”

Closer than this?

Bakugou seems like he’s debating something in his head before he gives you a firm nod. “The third one we can place your head on my fucking shoulder or something, and for the last—” he shakes his head in defeat, “just go and fucking kiss me on the cheek.”

“What?”

He shoots you an appalled look as if you jolting away from him at the mere suggestion is a criminal offense committed against him. “Don’t sound so fucking disgusted, idiot.”

You’re not about to tell him you’re the farthest from being disgusted and rather veering dangerously close to flustered. Instead, you croak: “Are you sure about this?”

Bakugou scoffs, “Does it look like we have a choice?” He pauses, before shaking his head rather adamantly, “It’s not like I want to do this…”

You frown, itching to argue that you, in fact, have a choice, but the man is so evidently resigned that any rebuttal dies down in your throat. He does know his friends better than you do. Obviously. You can’t accurately gauge how far they’re willing to go for you just to take these photos with the grump.

Heaving a heavy sigh, you mumble an ‘okay’ before standing to press the Start button.

And so you, once again, go through the motions.

Only this time you’re not laughing.

You can feel your smile straining as you pose for the first photo, and you’re guessing Bakugou is looking like he’s being forced to smile at gunpoint beside you.

Click.

At the tell-tale sound, you lift your left hand, forming half a heart, and bring it next to Bakugou’s right. Beside his, your hand is significantly smaller, and you’re staring at the shape you’ve formed together when the camera goes off again, catching you off guard.

Click.

You’re disoriented and barely registering the pace at which everything’s going when you feel a hand gently tug your head to the right, placing it firmly on top of a firm shoulder.

“Smile, you dumbass,” Bakugou says through gritted teeth. You obey.

Click.

You chance a glance at the man, whose eyes are downcast—staring at the floor. You hesitate, wary of the countdown, “…Can I?”

Bakugou merely closes his eyes in what you think is dreadful anticipation before opening them again, choosing to look straight into the camera instead of meeting your gaze. “Just do it.”

You’re not about to waste any more time and risk missing the timing and having to do this all over again, so you do.

It takes everything in you not to cringe the second your lips touch Bakugou’s cheek, suddenly becoming very aware of how chapped they are. But the thought is almost instantly replaced by the realization of how deceivingly soft his skin is, and you have to fight yourself from jerking away at the ridiculous observation.

The seconds go by so agonizingly slow, and as you wait for the shutter to go off, you notice how tense Bakugou is, whose eyes are now closed again. It occurs to you belatedly how weird it would come out in the photos if you had your eyes wide open this close to the guy, so you immediately slam them shut.

You do it just in time before you hear the all-too-familiar click, at the sound of which you promptly pull away and stand up.

“Great,” you chirp, too cheerily.

“Good,” he grunts at the same time as you.

You look at each other in surprise, and you can’t help the chuckle that bubbles out of you. The corners of Bakugou’s mouth twitch ever so minutely, and you could’ve sworn a smile is fighting to take over his lips.

You’re about to say something remotely embarrassing—just anything to fill the air, really—like ‘thanks’ or worse, when the door suddenly opens, startling the both of you.

Mina pokes her head through the small opening, squealing as her eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. “Well, come on, you two! They turned out amazing!”

You didn’t have to be told twice.

It’s about half past 10 when you finally decide as a group that it’s time to wrap things up and go home. Of course, you had to first sit through roughly thirty minutes of Mina gushing on and on about how cute your photos turned out, with Kaminari and Sero at the side teasing Bakugou about how uncharacteristically shy he looks. As you expected, Bakugou turned almost as red as a beet at the teasing, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with the group before getting silenced with a sharp glare from the man.

Despite the plethora of dirty looks he’s tossed your way the entire evening, Bakugou still went out of his way to offer you a ride home as you walked with the group to the exit. You were about to politely decline when you realized everyone else was watching and that it would be weird for you to turn down your boyfriend’s proposal this late into the night.

And so you reluctantly accepted.

Which is how you find yourself waiting by the restaurant’s front door with Mina while Bakugou fetches his car. The other three guys already hit the dirt and carpooled home together, not one of them having bothered to drive here in the first place knowing they’d get drunk, or at the very least, tipsy.

The silence is comfortable as you breathe in the cool, evening breeze, while Mina sways side to side beside you.

“If you ask me, Bakugou didn’t drink tonight because he wanted to drive you home safely.”

You whip around to look at the pink-skinned hero, “Huh?”

Mina only shrugs in response, not bothering to repeat herself. Instead, she reaches for something in her purse, digs through it for a couple of seconds, before pulling out a strip of film that you instantly recognize is that of you and Bakugou from a while ago.

“Sorry, but I’m keeping the one of us as a group,” she sing-songs, not sounding the slightest bit apologetic, before thrusting the string of photos towards you. “But you get to keep the one of you and Bakugou.”

Not knowing what else to do, you gingerly accept it from the girl.

She grins at you, “Keep it safe for him, ‘kay?”

You refrain from telling her that he most definitely doesn’t care about whether or not you keep these photos safe, and instead give her an affirmative nod. Looking down at the object in your hands, you study the images one by one.

Your smile does look a bit strained in the first, and you’re not even smiling in the second, dumbly staring at the heart instead, but you’d say you appear decent enough in the third yet downright foolish in the last. It’s Bakugou that leaves you dumbfounded, though.

He’s not smiling in the first one—at least, not really—but he still managed to look handsome and exude a boyish charm that’s always been characteristic of him. To your surprise, he’s also not looking at the camera in the second; instead, his eyes are directed towards you, a solemn expression on his face. Against your will, you feel yourself warm at the thought of being the object of his attention without your knowledge. In stark contrast, he comes off stiff as hell in the third photo with your head on his shoulder, and in the last one…

His eyes are closed, eyebrows slightly furrowed. And if you didn’t know any better, you’d think his cheeks are tinged the lightest shade of pink.

Huh.

“You really like him, don’t you?” Mina pipes up out of nowhere, snapping you out of your train of thought.

You flush at her words. “Sorry?”

The girl merely smirks, a knowing expression etched across her beautiful features. “It’s written all over your face.”

Your free hand absentmindedly shoots up to feel your face, and it doesn’t elude you that you’re heating up.

To your relief, Mina doesn’t say anything else. She shrugs again, checking something on her phone before turning to face you once more, “Well, my Uber’s here! Tell Bakugou to drive safely and make sure you get home in one piece, okay, bestie?”

You smile at her concern and the adorable term of endearment she’s assigned to you, “I will.”

Mina seems to hesitate for a second before decidedly stepping closer and bringing you into a warm hug, which you return as best as you can.

You eventually pull away from each other after a moment, and she walks down the stairs and towards the dark maroon car that’s just arrived.

Leaving you with nothing but the space to mull over the ramifications of what has just been said.

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @chelbyisbord @lovra974 @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @beab19 @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble @moonz33 @citrustsuki @deadhands69 @lemuhr @rosemarygalaxy @iluv-ace @eyesforbkg @carpe000diem @shushbruv @matchat3a @ttalgi @bakunianadecorazon

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 they really do make a difference! have a lovely day ( ˘ ³˘)♥

Hello! After a year, I'm proud to present my Marriageable Katsuki Bakugou mod for Stardew Valley!!! 💥https://nexusmods.com/stardewvalley/mods/22080 💥800+ Dialogue Lines 💥25+ Cutscenes 💥Cutscenes for Every Heart Level, Pregnancy, and Marriage 💥Seasonal Marriage Dialogue 💥Dating Dialogue 💥Pregnancy and Adoption Dialogue 💥Bachelor/Bachelorette Parties 💥100% Tsundere Personality!!! 💥1.6 Dialogue Included

I hope you like the mod! It's been so fun to make~!

I took a little journey into the unknown

meet me in the woods - lord huron

u get a crush on pro hero dynamight bc of [whatever reason you’ve been thrown together] and every time you think about it you just imagine angry little cupids with his face, getting mad and yelling at u.

#LOVE IT!!!!!

Bakugou’s sidekick with a mask

Bakugou has known his sidekick for 3 years now and he has not once seen your face. No one has. Hes getting curious too with the crush he’s harboring.

Yall I gotta take my braids out today but im not tryna do that. Also, my friends keep calling me mommy. Im childless!

Part 2 👇🏾

https://at.tumblr.com/antiwhores/i-need-another-part-to-bakugous-partner-with-a/mq9bhttg4fxl

Bakugou has never, not ONCE, seen your face.

You work at his agency as his sidekick and yet he has no real idea what you look like. You’re documents are proved secure so you’re not a villain in disguise. And even so, he would’ve caught you acting suspisous by now. You just really don’t wanna show your face.

No one has seen your face in the agency. You walk around with a full face mask and suit like some spider-man wannabe and never take it off. Not even in the girls locker room! And oh, the female workers have tried to pry it off you.

As a little inside joke between the both of you, Katsuki offered a reward to anyone in the agency who could catch you without your mask on and tell him what you looked like.

They would hide in lockers and wait for you to take off your mask. They would be seething with excitment, practically hyperventilating. Then you would pull off the mask to reveal another mask.

This cracked Bakugou the hell up when he heard the gossip. The whole situation honestly only made his fondness for you stronger

This same procedure repeated a whole bunch of other time too. They would think they finally caught you then you would reveal another mask. One of them even tried sneak attacking you to rip the mask off. Only to reveal another mask.

The masks the multiplied while the amount of people trying divided until everyone gave up and there were about a hundred of your masks hanging around.

Of course, Bakugou was curious. Especially since during the 3 years of you being his annoying sidekick, he’d started to feel some unwanted love and attachment towards you. How was he supposed to ask you out if he didn’t know who he was asking out? Not that he cared what you looked like. Its just he wanted to know to feel… special.

He had managed to pry a bit of information about you along with sarcastic comments:

“Okay. Just answer my questions if you’re not gonna let me pull that damned mask off.”

“Ugh, why’re you so curious? Are you wondering if I’m insanely hot? I am, now leave me alone.”

“No you fucking idiot, its just unfair.”

“Unfair?”

“Yes unfair, I’ve known your dumbass for 3 years. We hang out outside of work, we’ve almost died together like 40 times, and you’ve seen me almost naked!”

“Not by choice! I swear, you should’ve locked the door!”

“IT WAS THE BOYS BATHROOM!”

“OKAY AND?”

“Oh my fucking god. Anyway, all that shit and I dont even know what your dumbass face looks like! You could just walk by me out of costume and I’d have no damn idea who you were.”

“Yeah, thats the fun of it! Makes me feel like a spy.”

He gives you a serious look, “y/n-“

“Uuuuugggghhh, fine you whiny bitch. What do you wanna know?”

“What race are you?”

“What race do you think I am?”

“I’ve seen your skin sometimes when your costume breaks. Also I know you’re from y/c so your probably y/r.”

“Racist.”

“Im gonna fucking murder you!”

“You’re correct, you smart cookie! Anything else?”

“Yeah-“

“EHHHHH! Only one question every 3 years Katsuki!”

“THREE YEARS?-“

Eventually he does see you outside of work but just as he suspected, he has absolutely no idea its you.

There was a villain attack happening and you were oblivious to it. Or more like you couldn’t afford to do something right now. You had forgotten your costume but thankfully you heard familiar explosions accompanied with the voice of Sero.

“Oh, they got this.” You mumbled as you continued to walk in the direction of your apartment. You took a bite out of a piece of the cheesecake you went all the way across town to get.

The deluctable flavor, and maybe your lack of care, stopped you from realizing a literal car was fly towards you. Honestly, you’d walk out pretty okay if it hit you, banged up but alive, and thats all you needed. You also overused your quirk yesterday and now you’re basically quirkless so there wasn’t really anything you could do without loosing your cheesecake and that was worth more than your life.

Just as you prepared for the car by taking another bite you were swooped up into warm arms. The stranger had flung himself and you into the air. You couldn’t bring yourself to even care cause YOU DROPPED YOUR FUCKING BAG OF CHEESECAKE.

You screamed at the man, it all came out muffled due to your mouthful.

“WHAT TE FEK? MY CHESS CAKE! GO BAIK!”

The man whos arms you were in ignored you. He went to drop you off on top of the building you were standing under but you immediately jumped off.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!?” The man screamed. He must’ve thought you were doing this just to die.

He blasted himself down to grab you before landing on the ground safely.

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

You were about to turn around to answer but the words died in your throught at seeing your partner. So you just pulled yourself away from his grip and walked over to the bag. You picked it up with a bright smile before continuing your walk.

He grabbed the back of your shirt before you could get away. “Do you have a fucking death wish or something?!” You broke the piece that you were about to grab into two. You took the other piece and shoved it in his mouth.

He looked like he was about to murder you but you just threw him a thumbs up. He spit the cake out, earning an insulted scream from you. “What the hel-“ Before he could finish the sentence he was interrupted by Sero. “BAKUGOU! If your finished flirting with the civilian… COME HELP ME!”

Its like he remembered he was in a fight by the way his face hardened. He grabbed your neck, turning you to face him. “Leave. I don’t wanna see you around here again. And definitely not for no fuckin’ cheesecake.”

You nodded feverishly, a blush was creeping up your cheeks. You felt exposed looking him straight in the eyes. Like one wrong move and he knew everything about you.

He mumbled something about you reminding him of another dumbass he knows before blasting away.

The next day when you guys were patrolling he told you the story. You couldn’t stop laughing at how he described whom he didn’t know was you. “Yeah and then she wanted to fucking give me attitude and shove cake in my mouth!” You giggled, “Was it at least good cake?” “YES!”

i had a nice thought today !!!

posting the timelapse of the cleanup and colouring for this in light of the volume 37 cover