Bakugou Katsuki X You - Blog Posts

Could look at him all day( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

back in action

synopsis: being the wife of bakugou katsuki comes with multiple benefits, one of which is a front-row seat to his scrumptious back.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: i know at least 2/3 of you have seen that figurine

you swear there’s no better sight in this world than katsuki bakugou’s back.

not the view from your honeymoon suite in santorini, not the sparkling ocean from your vacation in okinawa—hell, not even the perfect strawberry shortcake you baked last weekend.

no, none of that compares to the sheer beauty that is your husband’s ridiculously broad, wonderfully sculpted, unfairly muscular back.

the way his muscles shift under his skin when he moves? art.

the ripple of strength as he stretches? divine.

the faint sheen of sweat glistening on his shoulders after an intense workout? a masterpiece.

and, as if the gods of attractiveness hadn’t blessed him enough, the scars that mark his skin only add to his allure.

each one tells a story of battles fought and won, of heroism that the world praises but he humbly shrugs off. to you, those scars aren’t just symbols of strength—they’re proof of his resilience, his dedication, his heart.

so, yes. you are absolutely obsessed with your husband’s back, and no, you don’t care how shameless that makes you.

“katsuki,” you call from the couch, chin propped up on your hands as you shamelessly watch him rummage through the fridge.

he’s in nothing but a pair of loose sweatpants, the waistband hanging dangerously low on his hips, and his shirt? nowhere to be found.

a completely intentional choice on his part, because he knows exactly how weak you are for him like this. “did anyone ever tell you that you’ve got the best back in the entire universe?”

he pauses, a carton of orange juice in one hand and an eyebrow raised in your direction. “you tell me that every damn day.”

“well, I mean it every damn day.”

he rolls his eyes but doesn’t bother hiding the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “you’re such a weirdo.”

“damn right,” you shoot back, grinning when he snorts. “come here. let me look at it properly.”

“what, my back?” his expression is one part exasperation, two parts amusement as he shuts the fridge and leans against the counter, arms crossed. “the hell do you need to ‘look’ at it for?”

“because it’s a work of art, obviously,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “and I haven’t had my daily dose of admiring you yet.”

he groans, dragging a hand down his face like you’re the most exhausting person on the planet, but he still walks over to you without another word. you can tell he’s secretly enjoying this, though.

“alright, idiot. knock yourself out.” he turns around, presenting you with the full, glorious view of his back.

your eyes immediately light up. “oh my god, it’s perfect.”

“it’s a back,” he deadpans.

“no, no, no. it’s the back,” you insist, reaching out to lightly trace your fingers along the curve of his shoulder blades.

he tenses slightly under your touch—his body always reacts before his mind can catch up—but quickly relaxes as you continue your impromptu “admiration session.”

“you’ve got no idea how unfair this is,” you mumble, running your hands down the defined lines of his lats. “how am I supposed to focus on anything when you look like this?”

“you’re ridiculous.” he’s shaking his head, but you can hear the way his voice softens, the way the edges of his usual gruffness smooth out when he talks to you like this.

it’s a few days later, and you're lounging on the couch, flicking through your phone when you hear him coming from the hallway, the sound of his footsteps heavy and deliberate.

katuski’s been in the gym for a couple of hours, and you can already hear the deep exhale he lets out as he moves closer, his breath still heavy from the workout.

"guess who's back," you say, looking up just in time to see him walking into the living room, wearing only a towel around his waist, his body glistening with sweat from his workout.

he pauses for a moment when he sees your face—wide-eyed and full of admiration, already zeroing in on that perfect, chiseled back. his muscles tense as he moves, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

"really?" he says, voice dripping with disbelief. "you still on about this?"

“can’t help it,” you say, setting your phone aside and leaning back against the cushions, fully prepared to watch him, unashamed. "I’m just amazed that someone like you exists in the world."

katuski rolls his eyes, but there's a soft chuckle that escapes him, betraying his indifference. "yeah, well, quit starin'."

"I can’t help it," you reply, your voice a playful purr as you look him up and down. "I mean, who else looks this good after a workout?"

he tilts his head to the side, his signature scowl starting to form, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“quit actin’ like I’m some kinda showpiece, alright?” he grumbles, though you can hear the lighthearted edge to his voice.

you laugh, clearly enjoying yourself too much. "sorry, can’t help it.”

later that week, you and katuski are out on patrol, both suited up in your respective hero uniforms.

it's business as usual—rescuing civilians, stopping some petty criminals, and making sure the city is safe.

the sun’s setting, painting the skyline in beautiful oranges and purples, but you're still laser-focused on one thing: his back.

it's a total accident—really, it is—but when you're standing next to him after you’ve just subdued a villain, you can't help but sneak a glance at the broad expanse of his back.

you feel that familiar pull to reach out, to trace the powerful lines of his shoulder blades again.

“don’t even think about it,” he warns, his voice low and gruff as he catches the glint of mischief in your eyes.

you smile innocently, taking a step closer. "what? I was just going to—"

"not here. we’re in the damn public," katuski growls, his sharp gaze snapping to yours as his fingers tighten around his gauntlet. "you really think I’m gonna let you paw at me in front of everyone?"

you laugh, unbothered by his obvious annoyance. "I’m not pawing at you, I’m admiring you. there's a difference, katsuki."

his jaw tightens as he glares at you, his usual frown deepening. "that’s the same damn thing."

you can’t help but grin, even though he’s clearly not having it.

but, deep down, you know that katuski secretly loves it. sure, he’s tough and grumpy in front of the public, but you both know how soft he gets when you're alone, how he indulges you without hesitation.

so, you take one last daring step forward, placing a hand on his shoulder, letting your fingers brush along the fabric of his uniform.

he’s about to bark at you to stop, but you just flash him a quick, mischievous grin, and that’s all it takes for him to roll his eyes, muttering under his breath, "unbelievable."

and katsuki was right in his reprimand cause you were breaking the headlines the very next day.

for all the wrong reasons.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

Locked in for life XD(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

More Than A Favor

Bakugou x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, Breeding, Awkward Sexual Situations, Masturbation, Pregnancy, Friends to Lovers, Romantic Comedy, Sexual Humor

WC: 5.6K

a/n: This is a reupload too. But I wanted to get it out because i started thinking about the moment these two are waiting for the positive pregnancy test. Also my b, this reader is so heavily marq coded all the way down to the way she speaks im so sorry bahahah. BUT this started off as a comfort fic so.... that's why it's like this. sorry.

“I just need you to spurt in my pussy so I can have a baby! Easy peasy!” 

You’re standing in the hallway of your shared apartment building with Katsuki and he can’t believe his ears right now. Of all the years of being your best friend and listening to the wild shit that comes out of your mouth, you’d think he’d be immune to the surprise. But like always you’re always keeping him on his toes.

Still though, this “favor” might prove to be a little too much even for him. You know he’d do anything for you, the same way you’d do anything for him. You’ve been the one constant over the last few years too. Stuck by him when he was an asshole, when he wasn’t an asshole, when he ghosted that girl he was dating, even bailed him out when he got arrested for breaking the stupid paparazzi's camera.

He grimaces and wrinkles his nose in disgust, “Ugh, dont fucking say it like that!” 

You laugh boisterously, your dimples sinking into your cheeks as you beam at him, “How else do you want me to say it? Is that not what would be happening?” 

“Yeah but do you gotta use the word spurt? It’s…” he hesitates. 

“Fine. Would you rather me say ‘Katsuki will you please ejaculate all the sperm saved up in your testicles into my vagina so that you can fertilize the egg in my uterus?’” 

“You’re a fucking nightmare ya know that?” 

How long has Katsuki been in love with you? He actually can’t pinpoint it. In fact, he may only be realizing it now as the thought of you wobbling around pregnant with his kid fills his mind and makes him look like one of those sappy in love guys in the romance manga he reads. 

“So is that a yes?” 

He shoots you his signature “I’m bein’ serious” face and you laugh again, filling the room with your joy.

“Oh come on Katsuki. Look I promise, you won't have to do a thing after I get pregnant. I won't ask you for any help or child support or whatever. The kid doesn't even have to know you’re their real dad,” you say now looking serious as you explain.

That gives him pause. Are you saying this because you don’t want to be with him? He wouldn’t force himself in the kids life if he agreed to do this, not if you didn't want him around. That desperation in your eyes though. Why don’t you get it? If you asked him to catapult himself to the moon, he’d fucking do it. 

“I know you’re focused on getting to number one and you're super close and…Katsu I hope you know I would never do anything to get in the way of that but…my window is closing real soon. And I have the opportunity now and obviously I am painfully single right now so…”

Oh. You think he doesn’t want this. You think you’re burdening him. Damn…all this time he’s known you were clueless but for the love of shit you can’t be this clueless. Katsuki hasn’t had a date in…two years? Yeah that’s it. And in those two years he's spent almost every day with you, hangin’ out, goin’ on trips, watching movies, doing mundane life shit. Hell in his mind, the two of you are practically married already. 

But it’s clear you don’t think the same. Maybe you don’t see him that way? Which means… this entire thing could get real real messy. 

Katsuki squints, “You’re serious? Like you're sure you want this?” 

“I’ve never wanted anything more than I want this.” 

He knows that’s the truth. It’s all you ever talk about when you both talk about your goals and dreams. He wants to be number one and you wanna be a mom. But still the question remains, would you wanna be a mom to his kid? 

“And you’re sure you wanna do this…with me?” he asks again.

You shrug nonchalantly, “Why not? You’re my best friend. I trust you with my life. This is just as precious.” 

Goddamn you saying sentimental shit like that so nonchalantly. It’s like your fucking superpower. 

“Yeah but what if…shit gets weird after,” he stammers, raising an eyebrow. 

“Why would it get weird?” you ask with wide eyes.

“Cuz…yannow how weird it gets when two friends start fucking. Look at Sparky and Hanta. It’s been off since they hooked up last month at Mina’s party,” he explains, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“Well I don’t know how you do it, but I wouldn’t consider you jacking it into my pussy would qualify as us ‘fucking’”, you say curling your nose up in judgement.

“I'm bein’ serious,” he retorts, bumping your forehead lightly with his palm.

“So am I! Look we’ve been through…so much shit together. My mom’s death, All Might’s death, the hero charts, breakdowns during the middle of the night while I try to get my degree, the very very bad break up with the one we do not speak about…none of that got the better of us so I don't see why this would either.”

Katsuki looks away from you now, Eyes dropping to the floor. He almost chokes when your tiny hand curls around his chin lightly and makes him look back at you. You’re wearing that expression again, the “you’re the only one in my universe” expression he’s seen you use as a weapon to bartenders to get you both free booze. 

But this time, there’s no tricks.  

This time, you mean it. 

“Hey, I mean it. You’re my best friend. I’m not gonna lose anyone else so if you’re completely against it, tell me and I’ll drop it right now,” you assert.

Katsuki sighs and plops a hand on top of your head, rubbing gently to make sure he doesn’t mess up your hair. 

“Gimme some time to think about it alright? It doesn't mean No. It means I gotta…prepare…I guess.”

Your smile returns, along with your irresistible ass dimples. “That’s totally fine! I won't start ovulating until next month anyway so take all the time you need!” you chirp. 

You both continue down the hallway, your apartments located toward the end of the hall. When you reach his door, you pause before heading a bit farther down the way to your place.

“Hey Katsu?” 

“What now?” Katsuki asks exasperated as he pulls out his key. 

When he turns to look at you, you’re staring at him with the big wide serious eye again. You look a little nervous, anxious as you twiddle your fingers in front of you. Geez, he’ll never get over how fucking pretty you are. 

“Thank you. Even if you refuse, thank you, for at least considering it,” you say bowing graciously to him.

His heart thumps in his chest but he shakes it off quickly and bumps your forehead again playfully. “Tsk, dumb ass. You act like I don’t always consider the crazy shit you come up with.” 

The playful jab soothes you again, and just like before the anxiety melts away into glee. 

“Crazy shit?!? Admit it, I make your life fun and exciting. If it weren't for me you’d be at home watching “How It’s Made” videos on Youtube,” you say sticking your tongue out at him as you brush past onward to your apartment.

“Fuck you! That shit is interesting I don't care what you say,” he calls after you as you laugh and skip away. 

 Katsuki watches your swaying hips as you go. He’s definitely got a lot of shit to think about tonight. 

Never have you ever found a ceiling more interesting than right now. 

Ok, it’s not all that interesting but you are surely going to act like it is. Refusing to look Katsuki in the eyes as you lie on your back in his dark ass bedroom, legs spread with the string of your underwear cutting into your plush soft waist is by far the only way to keep this entire situation from becoming more awkward than it already is. 

You suppose the best part of looking at the ceiling is that it’s not your own. You're at Katsuki’s apartment and of all the times you’ve been here, all the nights you’ve spent here you’ve never looked at his ceiling. Your mind wanders as the sound of fabric shifting idly becomes the background noise in your mind. 

“The ceiling that interestin’?” A gruff voice says from the end of the bed. 

God it’s like he’s in your head, which again shouldn’t be a surprise. There’s literally no other person in existence who knows the way your mind works better than Katsuki. He is your best friend after all. 

Your eyes shift to him and immediately you find it to be a mistake. He’s shirtless, the black sweatpants he wears are low on his hips and goddamn…have you really never noticed how tiny his waist is compared to his broad ass shoulders? And… has he always been like… that fit? 

No. Bad. Stop that. That is not where this is supposed to be going. This is a business deal between friends. Nothing more. 

In a desperate attempt to keep the mood humorous, you scoff. 

“Actually ceilings are really sexy so I’m trying to concentrate and get in the mood and you’re ruining it,” you reply, letting your eyes reluctantly fall away from him and return to the ceiling. 

You can practically hear the way he rolls his eyes, “Let’s just hurry and get this shit over with. Sooner we do it, sooner this stops being weird,” he huffs, moving closer to the edge of the bed. 

His anxious tone should make you feel bad but strangely, it’s comforting. It’s good to know you’re both feeling the same way. 

This is a big thing you’re asking of him, and you know he’s been on the fence about it since you asked. Honestly, you expected him to say no. But when he’d accepted a few days ago, you’d tried to ignore the way his reply of “When have I ever been able to say no to you,” made your stomach do flips. 

“Thanks again Katsu. For agreeing to this. I’ll probably spend the rest of my life paying you back for it,” you say gently, still avoiding looking at him. 

He huffs again, but you hear the hesitation, the hitch in his breath at your soft confession. He taps your knee and waits for you to give him your attention again. 

Again it’s a mistake, looking at him, because his expression is soft and tender it makes your lips part in a gasp. 

“Pay it back by bein’ a good mom to the kid,” he mutters quietly. 

The searing touch of his hand on your knee makes you swallow a lump in your throat. Something about Katsuki referring to you as a mom makes a bubble of emotion rush its way to your tear ducts but you bite back the sob with a smile. 

“I promise.”

“Alright, I’m comin’ to ya. Ya ready?” he asks and slowly you nod. 

With a low groan, Katsuki crawls on the bed between your legs, nudging them more apart so he can fit comfortably between them. With his body hovering over yours it makes this feel more real. 

You are about to do this. You are about to be impregnated by your best friend. 

Katsuki was nice enough to let you change into a shirt of his that’s way bigger on you than a regular shirt. It drapes down over your ass and covers your panties. But while lying on your back  with your legs spread and him between them you can’t help but feel more vulnerable than if you were wearing your own clothes. He’d said it would help you feel “less exposed” but in the back of your mind you wonder if he gets off on seeing girls in his shirt before he fucks them. 

That is another forbidden thought you shouldn’t have. You’re not like the other girls he fucks because he is not “fucking” you. He’s going to jack himself until he gets right to the cusp of orgasm and then insert himself to finish inside you. 

It’s hardly sex. More like… helpful masturbation at this point but still…him being inside you… that’s…something different. 

“Alright uhh… if you’re ready I’m gonna… take it out now,” he stammers nervously,as he stares into your eyes. 

Your eyes flick down to his groin and then back up to his eyes. Another desperate attempt to lighten the mood falls from your lips. 

“With your pants still on? Like this is a quickie?” you say in mock shock. 

Katsuki growls in frustration. His brows pull together and he pouts his lips.  

“I’m doin’ it for you! Plus I thought it’d be weird if I was butt ass naked jacking my dick over your fully clothed body so shut it!” 

You shake your head in defiance, “Hold on now! First of all, I’m not fully clothed. Second, I told you to do whatever you need to be the most comfortable. That’s why we’re at your place, Katsu. So if ya need to take our pants off, just take ‘em off for christ sake!” you glare back at him trying  not to smile. 

It’s your typical banter with him. He tries to make you comfortable. You yell at him and tell him to worry about himself. Nice to see you two can still fall back into the groove of friendship. Which is why you know after this, the two of you will be ok. 

“Fine! I’ll take em off then! But you gotta take your stupid panties off too. If it’s about my comfort, pullin’ em to the side is annoying as shit,” he yells, moving off the bed to slip his pants down his legs. 

You notice, he’s not wearing underwear and as you lift up to slip your own underwear down your thighs and ball them up to place next to your head, you avert your eyes from Katsuki’s –admittedly impressive–cock. 

When you both are back into position–you on your back with the shirt pulled over your but pussy out and Katsuki leaning back on his thighs with a pillow over his junk–you’re both breathing heavily. His skin is hot against yours as his thighs brush against your inner thigh. You stop the tremble that starts up your spine and try to focus on the ceiling again as Katsuki’s hand moves between his own legs.  

You hear him clear his throat, and say “I’m startin’ now,” and then inhale as his hand wraps around his cock. He closes his eyes, which you appreciate. It means you can look around if you want to and in a second of courage you take the chance to observe his technique. 

Ok so yeah… Katsuki is fucking hung. Not a fact you thought you’d ever know about him. It’s not like the two of you don’t swap sex stories but he’s never gone into detail. He’s hot, you know that and so does he, but you never thought his dick could be another reason why it’s so easy for him to get laid when he wants. 

His waist is enviable and his abs ripple down his torso. He’s got a happy trail of brown hair that gradually grows into a bush of blond coily hair. With his eyes closed you’re also able to get a good look at his dick. Katsuki’s got massive hands and it still looks like he’s having trouble getting his entire palm around the girth of it. It makes your mouth water–although it shouldn’t. 

And naughtily you believe his may be the thickest cock you’ve ever taken.  

“Uhh…” he pauses, his eyes are open and yours quickly flit away from his cock and up to his eyes. He looks worried which is good because it means he didn’t catch you looking at him. 

“What?” you ask breathlessly. 

He raises an eyebrow and then both brows furrow again and the hand that’s not on his cock drums against his thigh nervously. “You’re breathing is all weird and shit, you—“ 

“Just hurry up and jack it Katsuki,” you interrupt, wanting to divert the attention away from your dumb ass horny inappropriate thoughts about your best friend. 

He smirks as if he knows what you’re doing but only jokes and says “Heh, never thought I'd hear that said to me before.”

“Oh my god, would you just–” You don’t finish because he tips a bit off balance while he’s sitting back on his knees and balancing on his thighs and feet. When he rocks off balance, he grabs your thigh to steady himself and the action makes you gasp in delight. 

The moan that would come after is thankfully trapped in your throat by a wall of disintegrating control. As if he didn’t hear it at all, Katsuki steadies himself, mutters an apology and gets back to it. 

As his hand moves slowly up and down his shaft, you notice it stays a bit boneless in his palm. His eyes are closed again, his face is craned up to the ceiling and his body is shaking as he furiously keeps stroking to get himself there. After about three minutes you cover your eyes and grab his wrist to stop him. 

“Are you…like…okay?” you ask, shielding your eyes to respect his privacy. 

Katsuki groans, “It's harder than it looks!” he spits in annoyance. 

In an attempt to quickly soothe him you put both hands up in surrender and forget the reason you were shielding your eyes in the first place . 

“Hey I’m not saying it’s not! I get it alright I just…” your words trickle off as you stare at him again, propped up on your elbows. 

This time he doesn’t cover himself which is odd. And what’s even odder is you don’t shield your eyes again. He’s got that “I’ve got an idea” look but it’s paired with a guilt only you’re able to recognize. 

“Do you want me to help?” you ask in a whisper. 

Katsuki’s eyes widen, his cheeks blush red and you can tell for a split second he contemplates saying yes before he sputters out  “…No! I don't need any damn help.” 

You smirk, “You hesitated.” 

He shakes his head roughly, the spiky hair on top of his head shaking like leaves on a tree caught in a storm. “No no just shut the fuck up and let me focus. And cover your eyes back up.” 

“I could…take the shirt off or something if that will help?” you suggest. 

This time he does visibly hesitate and think about your suggestion. He probably thinks since you brought it up, it’s more acceptable to agree. 

Plus…you know your strengths and your rack is definitely one of them.  

Finally he relents, “…fine.” 

The shirt is off and over your head in seconds, leaving you Winnie the Pooh-ing it in a black bra.. He looks away, trying not to look at your pussy but you notice the quick glances and the way his dick twitches at the sight even more. This time, you cover your eyes, electing to give Katsuki a chance to look at you and get himself going.

As it turns out, not being able to see him but being able to hear him proves to be even more sexually stimulating. Katsuki’s hand sounds wetter now, making lewd noises as his hand rubs up and down his dick. His breathing is different too, it’s heavier, littered with more sharp inhales and hissing. You even think you hear him mutter to himself. 

You lick your lips, is the difference just because he can see your tits now? Or maybe he’s not even looking at your tits. You are pussy out right now. Maybe he’s looking at your cunt. Maybe he’s fantasizing about when he will get to put it i–

“Look I uhh… I hate ta ask but can I uhh…” his voice pulls you out of the spiral of thoughts plaguing you. 

You peek at him through a sliver between your fingers, “Can you what?” you inquire.

“Can I touch you?” he asks quietly, the blush spreading over his cheeks again. 

You’re a little confused. Why wouldn’t he touch you? How does he expect to like… do the whole “impregnate” thing without touching you. You’re sure you already gave him the consent. But as you watch him nibble on the dead skin of his bottom lip and his eyes flit to the sheets and sneak glances at your tits, you understand what he means. 

“Oh! Ohhh. Umm yeah…yeah whatever helps,” you say brightly, trying to encourage him you’re ok with it. 

“I'll stop as soon as you say,” he relents. 

“Ok.” 

His hand hovers nervously over your tit, he flexes his fingers as he readies himself. You become hyper aware of your budding nipples in the chilly air of the apartment. They poke through the fabric of your bra and you’ll admit you want him to just get it over with and grab it already. 

When he does, his hand is so warm it shocks you and you intake a sharp inhale. Immediately, he tears his hand away

“What?! What did I hurt ya or—“ His eyes are wide and he almost leaps off the bed in worry. 

You shake your head, “No no! I just…nothing, it's fine. Just keep going,”you assure him. 

How the hell do you tell him it felt way too good for your best friend to grab your tits? You won’t. That’s a dirty little secret you’ll keep to yourself. But when he goes to grab them both and massages them deeply you realize your body might be more of a tell than you thought. 

There’s a moan yo-yoing in your throat. A fierce visceral moan that begs to be released, especially when Katsuki hums and starts to stroke himself again. Setting a nice pace of grinding his fingers into the plump flesh of your tits, flicking your nipple to elicit light gasps from you, and stroking his now noticeably pre-glistened cock, you try your best not to let a peep come from you. 

The last thing he needs is to feel even more awkward after having to ask to touch your boobs for help in getting it up. It worked though. He’s definitely up. And damn… was it always that mouth watering to look at when you first saw it? 

No…mouth-watering is not the best word to describe your best friend’s cock if you’re trying to avoid catching any complicated feelings. Which you are so you whisper a silent scold to your brain to get it together. 

Katsuki’s hands on you make it so very difficult to keep up this ruse of not being completely and totally turned on. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your bottom lip is tucked between your teeth and your fingers are digging into the mattress at your sides. 

You think he’s caught on to your act when he stops again.  

“Alright what’s the deal? What's with the face and the noises?” he growls. 

You shake your head, “Just keep going! It's fine!” 

To your dismay he doesn’t budge, “It don't look fine ta me!”

God, why can’t he just take the hint and keep going! 

“I'm just trying not to make this all awkward ok?!?

“It’s already awkward!” he insists.

“Yeah well I'm trying not to make it even more awkward! Like you're doing now! Maybe that should be your quirk, the ability to make something awkward even more awkward.” 

“Shut up! Look you can't not tell me what's going on with ya. You need ta talk to me if we’re doin’ this. I can't tell if you’re uncomfortable or whatever if you don't say someth—

You can’t believe this is happening right now.  Katsuki is literally sitting with his dick out arguing with you. God do you really have to say it to him? 

“I'm not uncomfortable! I'm just trying not to moan Katsuki!” you shout at him, blowing an exasperated and embarrassed sigh that makes your lips push out in defeat.

He blinks and jolts back as if surprised. “What?” 

Defeated and now basking in the pure shame and guilt of the moment you groan, “You’re standing over me jacking your dick and fondling my tits! It’s…erotic. And this is not supposed to be an erotic encounter so for the love of pete just keep going so we can get this ov–” 

“Don’t…don’t be silent…” he says now with an expression that is dangerous. Very very dangerous because that is not the way you’d look at your best friend you’re only trying to impregnate as a favor. He’s looking at you like… like he wants you. 

Now it’s your turn to blink in confusion. “What?” 

Katsuki huffs, this entire ordeal finally getting to him, “Look you want me to fucking jack it, right? Listening to moans helps so…ya don't gotta be quiet.” 

He reaches out and lets a finger trace your nipple and you arch up into his touch and let out a breathless sigh that sounds like…heaven. He nods, muttering a sexy “mm hmm that’s it” to himself as your back straightens again. 

Oh fuck this is so much easier when you have the ok to let loose. When he touches you now all the hesitation is gone, between your legs slick dribbles from your cunt and as Katsuki’s pace on his cock quickens, your moans get louder.  

You don’t even have to tell him he can touch your bare chest, he just shuffles one of your straps down to expose your tit and palms it as he moans.  

“My hand cold?” He asks when you jolt at his touch.

“N…no…it’s…so warm…” you pant. 

You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from begging him not to stop. Not only are his hands warm, they’re surprisingly soft. A bit calloused from the hero work but soft as he handles your tits with care. 

He smirks, “Good.” 

Your sounds of pleasure fill the room now, mixed with the lewd wet noises of Katsuki’s hand on his cock, you’re sure it probably sound like you two actually are fucking. Especially when he leans over to gently blow on your nipple. The tip of his tongue flicks it for just a second, only giving himself a tiny sample of you without taking it too far. 

He knows you like it because your moans become gentle coaxes of his name, “Mmm…ah…I…umm Katsu…I Uhh…” 

His name tumbling from your lips seems to be the catalyst for release because his breath hitches again and he finally announces, “I’m getting close…I’m getting close I—I should put it in now.” 

He’s leaking from the tip of his cock and he has the goddamn nerve to rub the head through your folds and tap your clit before he lines himself up. He’s gotten too comfortable or maybe...he’s a little lost in the sauce right now. When you glance up to look at him, his eyes are already on you. 

In fact his stare is hot, piercing as he locks eyes with you. Your lips part again and he bites his own. Is it insane to think about kissing him right now? 

Slowly he enters you, pushing past that first ring of muscle in your pussy and fucking hell you were right about him being the thickest you’ve ever had. You feel yourself open up and part around him as he slides in. You’re so full you swear you can feel him in your stomach and it’s absolutely slutty of you to arch your back and dip your hips forward so he’s embedded even deeper. 

The best part though is watching him as he presses his hips forward. He throws his head back and groans loudly. And the sigh of pure contentment and pleasure that bubbles in his chest is to die for. It’s like…he’s been waiting years to feel this, instead of the frenzied horny dazed minutes of him fucking his own fist.

“Holy shit you’re tight. How come you feel so…oh fuck…” he moans wantonly, his question caught in his throat. His gravelly tone is littered with soft desperate little whimpers you're sure have never breached his lips before. 

Your legs are shaking. 

Unbelievable. 

He’s only just bottomed out, hasn’t moved an inch and your legs are fucking shaking. Every sensitive little nerve in your pussy is firing off messages of pleasure and ecstasy and completely tuned into the cock stuffed inside you right now. 

How can he feel this good? Is it just because of the meds that trigger your ovulation making you more sensitive? Somehow you don’t think that’s the case. There’s electricity shooting up all your limbs as Katsuki’s hands settle on the sides of your waist. Your lips tingle and you truly believe the only way to stop it is to have his lips on yours. He shifts a bit, leaning over you and trying to angle himself in a way that has your head spinning and your eyes fluttering like a slot machine. 

The tip of his cock brushes lightly against your cervix as if giving it a tiny gentle kiss as a warning for the load he will give you. The thought makes all your limbs tighten, makes a knot in your belly constrict and then snap loose as you clench around him and tumble off a cliff and into pure ecstasy. 

Your fingers dig into the sheets at your side, and like lightning he grabs your wrist and pulls them up above your head, intertwining his finger with yours. His body completely covers yours now as his breath washes over your face. He’s staring at you, watching your eyes flutter with a goofy grin and then…

“Oh…oh fuck Katsu—“ 

His lips crash into yours as you speak, his tongue invades, licking and twirling around yours as you hungrily taste him. The tingling in your lips only subsides when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and nibbles. You find your legs wrapping around his waist, his tiny enviable waist you’d admired only a few minutes ago, and nudge him forward with the heel of your foot. 

“Squeezin’ that tight I’m gonna fucking cu–” again he stops himself midsentence as his hips grind into you. He can’t bear to pull out to pound into you, obsessed with the way you’re wrapped around him. So he grinds against the soft warm walls of your cunt, letting you massage his cock before he cums with a roar followed by whispered sweet words in your ear. 

The only thing keeping you from passing out right now, is the occasional twitching of his cock as he fills you. It almost feels unstoppable, he’s growling, whimpering, moaning and mumbling like a drunk man as he kisses your shoulder and as you come down now from your orgasm you wrap your arms around his back and card your fingers through the undercut at the base of his neck. 

The two of you stay that way, wrapped up in each other for what seems like forever before he pulls back to look at you with an expression that makes you roll your eyes in annoyance. 

He’s smirking, giddy like a boy who’s just seen a titty for the first time. He doesn’t even have to say anything for you to know what he’s thinking. 

“Stop it,” you pout with pursed lips and a raised eyebrow. 

Katsuki chuckles, the mischievous proud grin only growing wider. “Stop what?” he tries to ask innocently. 

You try to push him away a bit, putting your palms on his chest but of course he doesn’t budge. 

“Stop giving me the ‘I just made you cum’ face,” you retort. 

The grin widens even further, if you can believe it. 

He chuckles, “But I did, didn't I? And based on the way you're still shakin’ I’d bet I was a pretty good one.” Unbelievably he nuzzles his nose against your cheek. 

“Yeah well I made you cum too and you don't see me smirking.” 

“Maybe ya should.” 

“We should not be having this conversation while your dick is still in me twitching so just shut up and wait a few minutes before you pull out,” you grumble. 

In a slightly uncomfortable but tender moment, Katsuki lies his head on your chest and listens to your heart. He traces a series of moles down the valley of your cleavage absently. 

Your face heats and he laughs again. “So much for it not being weird,” you sigh. 

“Knew it would be,” he mutters.

“And you still agreed?” 

“Puffs, if you thought I was gonna pump a baby in ya and then leave ya to raise it without me, then maybe I should think about gettin’ a new best friend cuz my best friend woulda known I could never do some shit like that. Eijiro is in the running for your spot. He knew,” he explains.

That shouldn't make you emotional, deep down you knew he wouldn’t just abandon you. Especially if the kid is his but–

“But what about Number One and–” 

“Can’t I do both? You’re the one who made it an either or thing,” he says shrugging. 

“But do you even…like me…like that?” you ask, blushing again. Ridiculous, you sound like a middle schooler or something. 

“My dick is literally still in you right now and I just told you I’d raise a kid with you. How many other ways do I need to say it, idiot?” He replies incredulously. 

“I mean… An ‘I like you and wanna date you’ wouldn’t hurt,” you say sheepishly. 

Katsuki groans, “For the love of…” and then he takes your face between his fingers and makes you look into his eyes and replies,

 “I like you and I wanna start a damn family with you. There. That good enough?”

---

dividers: @/cafekitsune, @/strangergraphics

Awwww so adorable \(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/

little protector

Katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

Summary: Bakugo and the reader get into an argument that leads to an emotional moment, with the reader upset and their young son witnessing it. The son, who is around four years old, becomes a little protector, comforting his mom and showing love even when his dad is mad. When Bakugo returns, he faces the consequences of his actions with his son's silent disapproval

The argument had started over something small, as they always did with Bakugo. He was stubborn, fiery, and sometimes too prideful for his own good. You’d tried to keep your cool, but his sharp tone and harsh words had worn you down until your voice cracked, tears spilling before you could stop them.

“Why do you always have to blow everything out of proportion, Katsuki?” you said, your voice trembling.

“Because I’m right, that’s why!” he barked back, his crimson eyes flashing with frustration. But the moment he saw the tears on your cheeks, his expression faltered. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead, he scoffed and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

The house fell silent except for your soft sniffles as you sat on the couch, wiping at your face. You didn’t hear the little footsteps until a small hand tugged on your sleeve.

“Mommy?” a tiny voice asked.

You looked down to see your four-year-old son standing beside you, his big red eyes—so much like Bakugo’s—filled with concern.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you said, quickly wiping your cheeks again. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer right away, instead climbing onto your lap and wrapping his arms around your neck in a firm hug. “Daddy’s mean,” he said quietly, his little face pressed against your shoulder.

You sighed, running a hand through his messy blond hair. “He’s not mean, baby. He just gets mad sometimes.”

Your son pulled back slightly, his small hands resting on your cheeks as he looked at you with a serious expression. “Even when I’m mad, I still love you, Mommy. Daddy should do that too.”

His words broke something in you, and fresh tears spilled over, though this time they were a mix of sadness and overwhelming love for the little boy in your arms.

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” you whispered, holding him close.

The front door opened, and heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway. Bakugo walked into the room, his expression guarded, though his eyes softened when they landed on you and your son.

Your son, however, wasn’t having it. He turned in your lap, crossing his tiny arms over his chest and glaring at Bakugo with all the defiance his four-year-old self could muster.

“Daddy, you made Mommy cry,” he said, his voice firm.

Bakugo froze, his eyes flickering between you and your son. “I… I didn’t mean to—”

Your son cut him off, turning his head away with a dramatic huff. “I’m not talking to you.”

You bit back a small laugh despite yourself, watching as Bakugo looked genuinely panicked for a moment. He rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a frustrated sigh before crouching in front of the two of you.

“Hey, kid,” he started, his voice softer than usual. “Look, I was being a dumbass, okay? I didn’t mean to make your mom cry.”

Your son didn’t respond, still pointedly looking away. Bakugo’s gaze shifted to you, and for a moment, his tough exterior cracked.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “To both of you.”

You nodded, seeing the genuine remorse in his eyes. “Apology accepted. But you’ve got some making up to do.”

Bakugo sighed, then turned back to his son, who was still glaring at him. “Come on, kid. Don’t make me beg.”

After a long pause, your son finally looked at him, his arms still crossed. “You gotta say sorry to Mommy again. And hug her.”

Bakugo’s lips twitched into a small smirk as he glanced at you. “You heard the boss.”

He leaned over, wrapping his arms around both you and your son. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice soft. “I’ll do better.”

Your son finally uncrossed his arms, resting his head on your shoulder as he mumbled, “Okay, but don’t make Mommy cry again.”

Bakugo chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Deal, little man. Deal.”

AAAAAHHHH MY HEART THIS IS SO SWEET ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

where pride meets love

synopsis: in a u.a. highschool reunion, your husband is up next in introducing his family.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: inspired by @call-memissbrightside

the gymnasium at u.a. is alive with activity, filled with faculty, students, and heroes from all walks of life.

katsuki’s standing near the back, holding your baby girl in his arms, her tiny hands clutching at the fabric of his hero uniform, her eyes wide as she takes in everything around her.

his expression is a mix of annoyance—because honestly, this whole “family introduction” thing is a bit much—and tenderness, which only those closest to him will ever notice.

you stand beside him, your hand resting on his arm, and for a split second, you catch a glimpse of something different in his usual scowl—something soft.

you’ve seen it before, but only in moments like this, when he’s looking at the little life in his arms or the family he’s built.

principal nezu steps forward with a polite clap of his paws.

“thank you all for coming! we’re glad to have so many wonderful alumni here today. if anyone with families would like to introduce them, now’s your chance.”

the crowd goes quiet, waiting for someone to step up. katsuki glares around, crossing his arms over his chest, but it’s obvious he’s trying to look disinterested in the attention he’s about to receive.

it doesn’t work, though. he feels all eyes on him, even before nezu directs them that way.

you give him a small smile, teasing him with a gentle nudge to his side. “you ready to show your family off?”

he scoffs but doesn’t pull away. instead, his gaze softens just a little when he looks down at your daughter, who smiles up at him with those same bright eyes you both adore so much.

his chest swells, and despite his usual gruffness, his pride is impossible to hide.

you feel it too—the silent understanding between the two of you, the knowledge that this moment, in front of everyone, is just another reflection of how far your life together has come.

with a sigh, katsuki straightens his back, shoulders broadening as he stands a little taller. “alright, fine. let’s get this over with,” he mutters under his breath. but then he clears his throat, lifting his chin just a bit.

he shifts his daughter against his shoulder, gently adjusting her so she’s more comfortable in his arms, and with a look at you that says, here we go, he raises his voice for everyone to hear.

“this—” he gestures to your baby, her tiny hands reaching for him in her usual, curious way—“this is my kickass baby.”

he flashes a rare smile down at her, the kind that could melt the hardest of hearts, before pulling you into him with his free arm, draping it over your shoulders.

“and this here,” he says, puffing his chest out slightly, “this is my kickass wife, y/n. the best damn woman in the world.”

you catch his eye, and for a brief moment, it feels like the whole room has faded away. there’s only the two of you, standing side by side, as he proudly introduces you to everyone in his own way.

a few of the students near the front start whispering to each other, smiles on their faces. kirishima, always the supportive friend, claps katsuki on the back, his grin wide.

"man, you really went all out with the family introduction, huh?" kirishima laughs, his voice loud enough for katsuki to hear.

katsuki looks over at him, narrowing his eyes, but there’s no malice in his gaze.

instead, it’s just the usual katsuki way of pretending to be annoyed. “shut it,” he growls, but his hand tightens around yours.

kirishima raises his hands in mock surrender, still chuckling. “I’m just saying, you’re looking like a proud family man.”

“damn right I am,” katsuki mutters, his gaze falling back on your daughter, who is now gripping his finger as she babbles in her own little way.

his eyes soften again, a rare, unguarded moment that no one else seems to notice, but you do.

you always do.

as the buzz in the room continues around them, katsuki’s gaze remains fixed on your daughter, his lips pulling into the smallest of smiles as he watches her reach for his hand.

she’s talking—if you can call it that—her baby words tumbling out like she’s already got something important to say.

you can hear the quiet adoration in katsuki’s voice when he responds to her, low and soft, “yeah, yeah, I hear ya, kid.”

you lean into his side, the warmth of his arm around your shoulders feeling like home. it’s one of those moments where everything feels right.

amid the chaos, in front of so many people, katsuki looks just like the dad you always knew he’d be—strong, protective, and completely head over heels for the tiny person in his arms.

the crowd slowly starts to disperse, some students moving towards the refreshment table, others chatting amongst themselves.

katsuki stays still, barely noticing the shift in the room. his eyes stay locked on your baby, a tiny, content smile playing at the edges of his lips.

“want me to take her?” you ask, nudging him gently with your elbow. “you look like you could use a break.”

katsuki looks down at your daughter, his arms tightening ever so slightly around her. she stares up at him, her big eyes soft and trusting, and for a brief second, it seems like time stands still.

then, just as quickly, he shakes his head, but the fondness in his gaze remains.

“nah,” he mutters gruffly. “she’s good here. I’m fine.”

you let out a small chuckle and settle against him, your hand resting gently on his arm as you watch your daughter settle down against his chest, a soft yawn escaping her lips.

katsuki pulls her a little closer, his other arm winding around you, bringing you both in.

the way his grip tightens around both of you, the way his hand moves just a little bit to the back of your neck, drawing you in closer.

you rest your cheek against his shoulder, and the sound of the crowd fades to the background.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐏

✽ — PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader ✽ — SYNOPSIS: When a job goes south, Bakugou and Kirishima are left dealing with the consequences of saving a life that maybe they shouldn't have. ✽ — WORD COUNT: est. 30.2k ✽ — WARNINGS: Female reader (she/her used), Cyberpunk AU, gun violence, gunshot wounds, descriptions of dead bodies, blood, body modifications, amnesia, death threats, POV changes between Bakugou & Reader, enemies to lovers (?), eventual smut, angst, no beta reader, no second part, there are no happy endings in night city. ✽ — NOTES: It only took me two years but hey, it's here. You don't necessarily need to know anything about cyberpunk to read this, I've tried to explain things as best as I can in the fic itself. But if you have any questions, please feel free to send me an ask! ✽ — EXTRAS: Playlist // AO3

“Shit!”

“The fuck did you do now?!” The blonde rounds the back of the car, a hand clasping the handgun tight in one hand whilst the other runs frantically through his sweat-slicked hair. It was not meant to go like this, this was meant to be an easy job. 

That’s what Aizawa said! Easy! The warehouse they were supposed to hit tonight was rumoured to be empty, no one had been seen moving in and out of it for days. There wasn’t meant to be a gunfight and now Bakugou worries about how it’ll come back around to bite him in the ass. 

His eyes snap away from the pools of blood and a mixture of chemical fluids. Kirishima is hunched over something in the open trunk of the car, his shoulders are bunched and Bakugou can practically feel the tension rolling off of his best friend in waves. “Oi, what the fuck is—”

Kirishima steps back, and Bakugou’s words die on the tip of his tongue when he stares down at the loot Aizawa had sent them to get. He had said it was just a simple shipment, a bunch of cyberware shit that needed to be shifted from one side of Night City to the other. But this was not just any old sort of cyberware. 

Arasaka cyberware. 

That meant the crate would most likely be tracked, and inside of it would be goods worth more money than either of the two Mercs had touched in their entire life.

“Oh fuck me–” Bakugou speaks first, eyes locked onto the metallic case. “Ei, we need to drop this shit. We can’t be caught with it, they’ll have our fucking balls.”

“No shit we can’t be caught with it! But what do we do with it now?! We can’t just leave it, what if the Maelstrom comes back and takes whatever’s inside of it?” Kirishima’s the one glaring at Bakugou now, the look making the man of 6’8” seem more of a terrifying monster than anything. “Why did you have to say yes to this job, man? We were fine for a few more weeks–”

“Because it would’ve gotten us both out of the fucking city Eijirou!” Bakugou yells finally, he is shorter than Kirishima but still at his own height of 6’3”, he makes up for his lack of height in comparison with his explosive anger. “I took it so that we could go back fucking home! Don’t you want that?!”

“Of course, I wan–”

Bang!

Instinctively Bakugou and Kirishima drop to the ground, Bakugou pulls his handgun up and is ready to fire whilst Kirishima's skin shifts with the metal plating. The two of them were a two-man team that was inseparable, Kirishima the shield and Bakugou the firepower. Both of their eyes are locked together as they wait to see if there’s another gunshot, Bakugou’s heart feels like it might beat its way out of his chest any minute now. He was certain he had gotten everyone, his optical enhancements had confirmed as much. 

The red of his eyes flash to life as he takes a deep breath before peeking over the back of the car, it’s silent for a moment before he hears a dragging noise and sure enough—there’s a body heat signature east of the car, hidden behind some boxes and crates. His arms adjust on the car, holding his gun steady, ready to shoot the second their head peeks over the crate.

…But then the heat signature flickers out, and Bakugou drops his position in confusion before there’s another bang and this time the bullet does collide with the car. 

“Fuck, they’ve got some sort of tech that lets them hide from my optics,” Bakugou whispers harshly to Kirishima who has his back plastered to the car, his face stoic despite the possibility of being taken out by someone who was possessing cyberware that’d allow them to appear out of thin air practically. 

Kirishima nods once, the body plating along his forearms clicking into place as he readies to use himself as a human shield. Bakugou steels his nerves, eyes flashing back to life before finally saying “Move with me.”

The two of them are up in an instant, Kirishima crossing his arms over his upper half and tensing his muscles to ensure his body mass covers Bakugou entirely whilst the blonde slips his arm just beneath Kirishima’s with the gun poised and ready to shoot. The crimson of his eye gleams in the darkness when he catches the heat signature once again dashing from one crate to another and this time Bakugou doesn’t hesitate. The gun fires in rapid succession, neither of the men flinching. The reaction is immediate when there’s what sounds like something falling to the floor. 

“Lost visual again,” Bakugou confirms when the warm red spot vanishes from his vision, leaving just droplets of what must be blood on the floor in their wake. Both mercs wait in silent anticipation, Kirishima moving with each step Bakugou takes as if it were second nature to him—perhaps at this point in life, it was second nature. 

Kirishima had come with Bakugou from Tokyo to Night City nearly 15 years ago with the plan that the two of them were simply there for one job. It was going to give them life-changing money, something the two of them desperately needed for themselves and their families back home. 

“Ei!” Bakugou yells, Kirishima plants both of his boots against the ground and brings up his arms to defend his face. The bullet buries itself into the metal plating of his arm, pulling a deep grunt from the man.

“Motherfucker–!” 

Bakugou again fires the gun, a snarl resting on his face and this time he hears the sound of flesh being hit by the bullet, and then the sound of a body slumping onto the ground. Kirishima finally steps down from being the human shield, pulling his arm up to view the bullet that’s embedded deep into his forearm. No doubt the Doc will be pissed about this when he gets back.

“All good?” Bakugou asks, changing out the mag in his gun before glancing towards the foot he can now see peeking out from behind the boxes. Kirishima grunts a yes whilst pulling the bullet free from his arm, the sound of it hitting the floor loud in the now silent warehouse. “Doc’s gonna kill ya for that.” 

“Ya think? She only just upgraded it for me.” Kirishima almost whines, quite the opposite of the man he just was as he watches the black liquid of the synthetic fluids leak from his arm in place of blood. “If I ask her nicely, do you think– Hey, where are you going?” Kirishima watches Bakugou slam shut the trunk of the car before stomping his way over to the body he’d just shot, he had to know if it was enough scumbag from some gang or if Arasaka were already onto them.

Bakugou rounds the crate, readying his gun to fire once more and freezes in place; gun raised just slightly, eyes widened and mouth ajar. “You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me—Ei, get here. Now.”

Kirishima walks over when the ash blonde hisses at him to hurry the fuck up, wiping the black liquid free from his arms before looking down at what Bakugou was staring at. 

“Ohh.. fuck, dude.” He gapes at the girl lying on the floor, covered head-to-toe in blacked-out clothing. But it wasn’t the fact it was a girl that Bakugou had taken down, but rather it was the fact she had the Militech symbol stitched into the sleeve of her t-shirt. “What the fuck did Militech want with this?”

“I don’t know—maybe to reignite that old corporate war they had years ago with Arasaka? Everyone knows both of them are fucked up.” Bakugou is still frozen, the handgun still aimed to shoot. If he takes out this Militech assassin, it’s most likely going to be tracked back to them and by them; he means the new family he had found in Night City. It was a tightly knit group, all coming from similar backgrounds to his own but ending up in NC for different reasons. He couldn’t do that to them, he couldn’t get them killed because he took a job to run away.

Kirishima squats down next to the body, head tilting as he leans a little closer towards her head. His hand hovers just next to her face, “The fuck you doin’ now? Gettin’ your big ass fingerprints all over the body so they ca—” 

“Shush,” Kirishima demands, and Bakugou goes to defy immediately before he’s shushed for a second time whilst Kirishima puts his index finger beneath her nose. It’s a tense moment, but he feels it. “Still breathing, we could still call trauma and—”

“And what? She relays to her boss that she ran into one very identifiable red-haired giant and his angry friend? No. We kill her.” 

“Wait! Wait!” Kirishima moves to push the gun away when Bakugou raises it, meeting his scathing glare with his own determined one. “What if we use her for info? Clearly whatever is in that box is worth enough to get both Arasaka and Militech willing to fight.” 

Bakugou’s jaw ticks as he clenches it, eyes flicking between his red-haired friend and the girl on the floor. He’s right, Aizawa might know something about this, and if they’re able to pull info from her about Militech then they could probably sell it to Arasaka for a pretty penny. 

“Shit.” He huffs, finally pulling the gun back and holstering it. “Fine, but you’re the fucker that’s got to explain why we’re dragging a half-dead Militech asshole through the Docs door.”

“—not keeping—” 

“This is your—” 

“Guys.” 

Everything felt…wrong. Nothing felt like it belonged, and yet it did at the same time. Mechanical parts clicking and groaning, blood pumping in and out, brain whirring to life. Lights that are far too bright for delicate eyes, and all noises submerged in synthetic water. 

What was happening? 

Where were you?

“Can you hear me?” a voice calls from a distant place to your left, you want to open your eyes or will your lips to move to form the words that are hanging at the end of your tongue. What happened to you? Nothing made sense, you didn’t recognise that voice and you didn’t recognise the coldness of the metal table you were laid on. 

“Hey—wait, calm down.” A smooth, cold hand presses itself against your sternum and it was as if a light switch had been flipped in the dark recesses of your mind. You didn’t have to think when your own hand wraps around the offending limb, fingers curling dangerously tight.

“Shit, I knew this was a fucking mistake!” A new voice, distantly familiar. There’s a scrambling of feet, and finally, your eyes are opening. The light is blinding, but you can make out the blurry outlines of figures that are double your size and they’re frantically moving to reach something; guns, you belatedly realise and you don’t miss a beat in hauling yourself off of the metal table. 

The two men—you can finally see them now and they’re nothing short of a pair of gigantic cyborgs—have turned to you with guns raised but they haven't made a move yet. Your arm tenses around something until you hear a squeak accompanied by a choking sound. Hesitantly you glance down to see you have a woman with brown hair pinned to your chest with one forearm crushing her throat and the other raised in their direction. 

“Now, just hold on.” The one with the red hair speaks, his hands raised to show he’s no threat but you don’t miss the way his skin shifts with the metal plating. Armour. He must be the shield, and the other must be the firepower. 

“Lower your weapon.” Weapon? You flick your eyes towards the blonde who most definitely isn’t lowering his weapon. The redhead shifts again, and he’s taken a step forward towards you but his hands are still up in surrender. “Please, lower your weapon.”

He must see the confusion on your face so he points towards your free arm currently not crushing the woman to your body. You hesitate to look where his finger is pointing, but it’s hard to miss when your eyes drift slightly away from the redhead. In place of your arm is what looks like an M-179 precision rifle. 

Wait—how do you know what type of weapon that is? You’ve never held a gun in your life before, you–you…–you were just some street rat. The weapon retreats back into your arm, clicking your own metal plates back together until it’s smoothed over as if it had never existed in the first place.

Did these people put these parts into you? Had they found you passed out in some dark alleyway and dragged you here to experiment on you? That’s the only explanation, it’s the only reason you’re in this dingy ripper doctor's office. 

“S–Stop. Can’t—breathe.” the woman croaks against your arm, and you realise you’re actually starting to crush her windpipe with your forearm. She stumbles forward with a hard choke, whilst you launch yourself back into the surrounding deskspace. Metal clangs and surgical instruments fall to the floor in a loud clatter, the roaring in your ears is too loud to hear what the people are saying to you.

Another set of hands place themselves against you, your upper arms this time but they’re no longer cold, they’re warm. A shroud of red covers the edges of your vision and all you can focus on is the face directly in front of yours, his lips are moving and it’s impossible to decipher what he’s trying to say. 

Why does his face seem so familiar? You had seen this hair somewhere before, and those teeth. You had never run into someone with such sharp teeth and yet your mind couldn’t stop trying to find just where you had seen them before. The red-haired man looks over his shoulder, letting you see the blonde who was frowning in your direction still brandishing the gun that was pointed directly at your head if anything were to go wrong. 

“—know man!”

“Move so I can—”

“You.” Both voices silence immediately. Two different sets of red eyes on you and yet they both carry a different feeling; one filled with curious sympathy and the other hardened disgust. “Who are you? I–I think I know you.” 

“Uh, well, I’m Kirishima.” There’s a groan of annoyance from what you assume to be the blonde whilst the one named Kirishima keeps his eyes on yours. “What about you, what’s your name?”

Your lips part, tongue moving to accommodate the syllables of your name and yet nothing comes forward. You try again with furrowed eyebrows but it feels like your tongue is too big for your mouth and your throat is restricting around your name. In your oncoming panic, you latch a hand to your throat, widening your eyes when you try again and again to spit your name out.

“Hey! Alright!” A hand comes around your wrist and peels your fingers away from the skin of your throat, and Kirishima takes a deep breath when he looks down at you. “You don’t remember a thing, do you?” your only response is a shake of your head, and you swear the man's shoulders slump as he deflates a little at your admission. Had they known you?

“Fuckin’ brilliant, Ei. Now Aizawa’s gonna have our ass for bringing back a death machine with memory loss and the tendency to lash out!” Death machine? Did he mean you? However you don’t get to answer the question because the blonde stomps out of the room, the slam of the door stunning the room into silence. 

Another sigh before Kirishima drops his hands from your upper arms and straightens out to his full height. He is huge, bigger than anyone you have ever seen before. “You should rest before tonight.” He supplies, turning towards the door and you realise the brown-haired woman had also vacated the room at some point. 

“Wait. Tonight?” you take a careful step after him and you don’t miss the way his shoulders stiffen, nor the way his forearm plating clicks to ready himself. Was he scared of you? No. That can’t be right, this gigantic man could not be scared of you. You’re certain he could crush you if he wanted with just a single hand.

“Tonight you’re meeting our fixer.” and just like that he was gone, the door closing behind him with an audible click. 

They had locked you in.

Looking back around the room, eyes caught on the glint of various medical tools that had been scattered across the white tile floor. There are no windows besides the one at the far back of the room, but even from where you stand you can see it’s barred. You were well and truly trapped.

And so, with nothing else to do, you sat in the desk chair by the bed you had woken up on—and waited.

...

The next time you see Kirishima is when he had come to collect you from your makeshift prison, at some point someone—you assumed it was the Ripper—had shoved clothes in through the small gap of the door, you hadn’t realised you were in a state of undress when you had initially woken up. 

Kirishima smiles at you, but you can see it doesn’t meet his eyes as he towers over you. He’s dressed differently too, in a black leather jacket over a red distressed vest and black jeans with some very expensive-looking sneakers. He looked much more like his age like this, you didn’t realise he was more around your age. 

“Ready?” Kirishima offers, burying both of his hands into his front pockets and leaning against the frame of the door—While he seemed relaxed, you knew he was blocking off your only escape route.

You look down at yourself, you’re not quite sure how they had managed to get your size somewhat right but the black cargo pants and graphic tee were comfortable. The only thing they hadn’t measured correctly was the heavy orange bomber jacket that dwarfed you immensely. 

“Yeah, readier than I’ll ever be anyway.” Kirishima just nods, finally pushing the door open and letting you walk out first before he shuts the door behind you both.

The door immediately opens out onto a street, the floor is wet from the rain and the neon street lights give the dingy alleyway some light. You can’t tell where you are, when you look up there is nothing but a concrete overpass blocking you from seeing the sky. “C’mon, he doesn’t like tardiness.” 

“Who?” You jog to keep up with Kirishima’s wide – normal – steps, you barely come up to his shoulder and you have to crane your head up to look at him. 

“Aizawa, our fixer. He doesn’t normally meet with new faces, but you’ve piqued his interest.”

“But how? I’ve not done anything, I don’t even know who I am.” You try to explain, the emptiness that sits in your brain is unnerving, to say the least. 

Kirishima finally looks down at you, nothing but pity in his eyes. “That’s exactly why he wants to see you.” 

The rest of the walk is in silence, not that Kirishima seems to mind much whilst he flicks through his phone. You’re not quite sure who Aizawa was, but you knew what Fixers were. They were smugglers, fencers and they loved to handle information. Is that why he wanted to see you? To get information from you? But you had none to give, and when Fixers often don’t get what they want… they dispose of the useless item. 

Sparing a glance towards Kirishima, he was far too engrossed in his phone to realise the thoughts you were currently harbouring. You could make a run for it, he’s much bigger than you, sure, but you’re smaller. Maybe you’re faster. He could lose you easily in a crowd of people, you don’t want to be killed for something that’s not your fault. 

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Kirishima says without missing a beat, his eyes not drifting away from his phone and you have to focus on not tripping over your own feet at being caught out. He hadn’t even looked at you, you weren’t that obvious– “If you run then that means I have to admit Bakugou was right and then I have to chase you down.” Finally, he looks at you, raising an eyebrow to see if you’re still going to do it. 

“I won’t run.” You say with less conviction than you would’ve liked but Kirishima seems happy enough with it, finally pocketing his phone into his back pocket before nodding his head forward.

“Here we are.” You turn to look at the building you’re both standing in front of. It fronts what looks to be a bar, not quite as modern as some of the others you had passed by. It looked more oriental and authentic. It’s not imposing, it blends in perfectly wedged between two other buildings that look like stores—it’s the perfect place for a Fixer you realise, it stands out enough to those seeking the man known as Aizawa but in an area shoddy enough that it won’t draw in too many people. 

Kirishima doesn’t give you more time to inspect the building, guiding you inwards with a hand between your shoulder blades until you’re past the old wooden doors and inside a very well-kept bar. It’s relatively empty, with a few people hanging around by the bar but it’s quiet.

Your eyes rove over the multitude of artwork hanging from the walls, swirling paint strokes and sculptured mythical creatures. Kirishima drops his hand from your back once he’s sure you’re secured in the building, leaving you standing alone whilst he meanders towards the bar to talk to a pretty girl with bouncy curly pink hair.

“Oi,” a gruff voice calls from behind you, your shoulders jump at the closeness of the gruff voice and you spin to see the blonde from earlier. He has a frown on his face the second he meets your eyes before they drag down and latch onto the bomber jacket you’re wearing. He seems to glare somewhat harder, sucking at the back of his teeth. “No fucking around. I won’t hesitate to blow your head off this time.” 

“This her?” a deep, almost sleepy voice drawls and you turn to meet the man to whom the voice belongs. He’s got shoulder-length black hair, and tired eyes yet the look he’s giving you is enough to tell you he’s very alert. You can’t help but straighten your spine a little, attention drawn away from the blonde who just huffs and wanders elsewhere. “Doesn’t look like much of a threat to me.” 

You’re left blinking at the man, the silence suffocating until you look hesitantly across the room to meet a set of red eyes—but they aren’t Kirishima’s. Bakugou was clearly growing agitated the longer this was drawn out. “I’ve never been a threat.” 

“Bakugou and Kirishima seem to think otherwise, even our Ripper Doc had said you have some interesting chrome.” Aizawa continues, settling into one of the seats close by before he regards you again. “But they also said you don’t remember who you are, is that true?”

“I–... Yes, it is.” Interesting chrome? “I don’t know how I got my upgrades, I woke up surrounded and I just acted on instinct.” 

There’s a beat of silence, the palms of your hands growing sweaty and you suddenly feel like you’re standing in a pit with lions. 

Then Aizawa breathes in deeply, sighing a little on his exhale. “I don’t know why, but I believe you.” There’s a noise of disagreement from Bakugou somewhere to the side but Aizawa continues anyway, “You could be useful to us. I’m sure your memories will come back over time and you’ll be even more valuable to us then. It’d be stupid of me to let you go.”

“Let me go? You want to keep me prisoner?” 

“Not a prisoner. We just can’t have you wandering the streets in the state that you are, it’s safer for everyone involved if you stay here.”

It made sense, you supposed. You would be safer staying in one place instead of wandering the streets, especially if you had no idea who you were. Swallowing the lump of anxiety, you nod your head in agreement and Aizawa visibly relaxes in his seat before he casts a glance towards Kirishima and Bakugou. 

“On second thoughts… I think it’ll be better for you to stay with those two.”

“What?!” Bakugou all but yells, the beer bottle in his hand smashing onto the floor in haste to get to his feet in disbelief. “I am not a fucking babysitter, and I’m not looking after some corpo—”

“You found her, you look after her. Didn’t I teach you that when I found you?” 

Bakugou’s upper lip curls into a snarl, his eyes darting from Aizawa and towards you–it’s like you’ve been pinned to the spot underneath his hateful gaze. His tongue drags along his lips, rolling his bottom lip into his mouth before he leaves without another word. Kirishima is quick to take his place, stepping up close to you to take you back to wherever you had to stay. 

“I promise he’s not always this bad—well, most of the time he is but he’s a good guy,” Kirishima says, a hand back on the spot between your shoulder blades to guide you out of the bar and back onto the open street where you finally see Bakugou once again. He’s sitting on a motorbike, an expensive-looking one. “Yo, Bakugou. Are we–”

“You have one fucking chance left. If you pull that shit again that you did at the Docs, I’ll personally rip your head from your shoulders. Got it?” Bakugou points a finger in your direction, which only makes Kirishima huff a sigh of annoyance and drag a hand over his face. “One. Then you’re done.”

He must not expect an answer as he slips the helmet over his head, the sleek black of it reflecting only the neon street lights but you can still feel his glare on you before he revs his engine once, twice—then he’s gone. 

You look up at Kirishima finally when Bakugou is gone, and the redhead just smiles awkwardly at you whilst rubbing the nape of his neck. “I did warn ya.”

To say the next few days were painful is an understatement. 

You had been confined to an apartment shared between both Kirishima and Bakugou, whilst the redhead was happy to have another roommate—Bakugou was not. He made it his mission to make it hellish for you. 

It started with him refusing to cook you food whenever he did for Kirishima and himself (Kirishima had to convince him to at least give you something to eat or you’d die and then Aizawa would be pissed). Then it started with the loud music early in the morning, you had no real bed so you had to sleep on the expensive U-shaped couch and Bakugou took great joy in turning the radio on and making sure it was on full blast. 

Kirishima did try to stop Bakugou’s attempts to drive you to a point of anger that would make you act out, which only had Bakugou sneering in your direction before he left to go do whatever the fuck he did all day. 

And it was going somewhat well, that same routine every day. Until Bakugou got a call.

Currently, you’re sitting on the couch, your elbows digging into your thighs whilst you lean forward. The room was deathly silent, save for the sound of the passing Trauma Team AV that flew by the window. 

Kirishima was staring out of the window, both of his hands pressing against the cool metal window ledge, the lights of the nightlife outside reflecting off of the various strips of chrome covering his jaw and down along his throat. 

Opposite you was Bakugou, his knee bouncing in what appeared to be nervousness whilst both of his hands were buried deep in his blonde hair, head tilted back to stare at the ceiling above.

“This cannot be fuckin’ happening.” He groans for the nth time that evening since ending the call. “That old fucking man—the nerve, all of the shit I do for him… and this is how he rewards me?!” 

“Dude, Aizawa has never steered us wrong. He obviously thinks we can trust her.” Kirishima says in an odd tone like his voice was devoid of any emotion. You supposed it made sense, he had never been able to trust you either for whatever reason.

“Well, I think we can’t.” Bakugou drops his head back forward, meeting your gaze and a sharp shiver rolls down your spine. “You remember what I told you before I let you come and squat in my apartment?”

“Our apartment.” Kirishima supplies quietly, though Bakugou is undeterred.

“You’ll kill me.” 

“Right, I’ll fucking kill you.” Bakugou finally stands, swiping the pulse rifle off of the table between the two of you before fixing it over one of his shoulders. “Now get the fuck up, we’ve got a Tyger Claws cunt to go kill.” 

The back of Kirishima’s car was very plush, you couldn’t help but wonder how good at being mercs the two of them were. They seemed to be living in the lap of luxury yet they decided to stay in Night City, but you didn’t dare ask why they were still here. Bakugou would probably take the opportunity to bite your head off. 

You sunk into the leather and watched the city pass by, the rain bounced off of the roof of the car and rolled down the windows in thick streaks. It still made no sense as to why Aizawa put you on this mission with them too, they were capable on their own so just what did Aizawa expect from you? You can’t even remember a time when you had used a gun so surely you’d just be deadweight—another reason for Bakugou to be on your ass if you fuck up. 

As if somehow sensing your inner anguish, Kirishima turns in his seat enough to meet your eyes. 

“Ready for this?” You’re not quite sure why he’s asking, even Bakugou seems to furrow his brows in confusion at why the redhead even gives a fuck about if you’re ready or not. “It should be a pretty simple gig, the Tyger Claws are ruthless but this guy we’re going for? Big junkie, won’t see us coming.” Kirishima grins at the end of his sentence, and you can’t help the small smile that grows on your face.

“Right, yeah, I’m ready.” You say with a small nod.

“Say it with more confidence and I might actually believe you for once.” Bakugou gruffs from his own spot in the driver's seat, with only one hand on the wheel and the other propped up on the door beside the window. He’s chewing at the skin of his thumb; one might think he’s actually a bit anxious. Kirishima only gives you a look you now know is his attempt at apologising on behalf of the antagonising blonde before he sinks back into his seat with a huff.

“Don’t gotta be so rude all the time man, she probably doesn’t want to be here as much as you.” Kirishima all but grumbles to himself, looking away when Bakugou shoots him a scathing glare.

“Yeah? Then maybe she’ll fuck off at the first chance she gets, won’t have to deal with her anymore.” The car falls into an awkward silence at that, not even Kirishima can counter the fact that it would be simpler if you did disappear but you can see the sad frown that’s making him look much more like a kicked puppy than anything. The music on the radio does nothing to squash the tension, instead, it only adds to the palpable dark energy rolling from Bakugou in thick waves. 

Soon enough the car is pulled into a darkened alleyway, only the rats and drunkards faintly aware of the presence of the two big mercs who get out of the car in a heartbeat. They seem to move in an organised way; a practised routine you realise. By the time you close the car door behind you, there’s a gun being thrust in your face. “Here, I know it’s not much but—it should do the job,” Kirishima leans a little as if sharing a secret “It’s all Bakugou would agree to give you, think you still scare him.”

You hum, eyeing the handgun in your hand and feeling its weight. It felt lighter than you expected, your fingers moulded perfectly around the hilt and you tilted your head to inspect the barrel. Something feels very familiar with the gun now in your hand, and as you look at both Bakugou and Kirishima to thank them you falter for a moment. 

Your vision flickers, the city behind them flashes to an old warehouse before it returns to normal. Kirishima seems to be talking animatedly but Bakugou’s eyes are locked onto your own, an unreadable expression on his face—maybe it’s because there is no real emotion on his face. No scowl, no anything, he looks like a blank slate. 

“Anyway, we ready for this? It’ll be over before we know it and then we can go to that ramen noodle bar I mentioned last week!” Kirishima grins, slapping a hand against his hardened stomach. 

“Yeah.” Bakugou finally speaks, breaking his eyes away from your own and down to the weapon in his hands. “The plan is Kirishima will be the shield, I’m the firepower, and you just follow us and keep quiet.” He says whilst staring you down, gone is the blank expression and that familiar frown is again creasing his skin. You just nod, and he seems happy enough with that response to turn on his heel and lead the way into the back exit of the building. 

The building is rundown, as are all the buildings in Night City outside of the high-end Corporate zones. You traverse over tipped-over vending machines, various boxes and crates that had been ripped apart and ransacked for all their worth. It’s dark and dingy, a low stream of smog flitting through the air from the old vents in the ceiling. The only way you can tell you’re going the correct way is with the help of the flickering dim fluorescent lights overhead, Kirishima and Bakugou are both deadly silent and somehow moving without even making a noise. 

The journey up the stairs is quick, without the worry of someone hearing the three of you coming, both men take the steps three at a time—leaving you to hurry after them as quickly as you can. 

Both of them freeze once they reach the door that leads to the 6th floor, Bakugou shifting a few steps back and Kirishima takes his spot wordlessly in front of the blonde. The clicking of Kirishima’s skin has you focusing on him, the way the metal plating shifts almost looks like his skin is hardening. Bakugou has his own gun raised, the heavy rifle looks like it weighs nothing in one hand when he taps the other on Kirishima’s shoulder indicating he’s ready to breach. 

It all happens in three very quick steps. 

First, Kirishima rips open the door to the point where it’s detached from the wall and tumbles down the stairwell—you have to plaster yourself to the wall to avoid being squashed. 

Second, breaching. Bakugou has both his hands back on his rifle, his eyes illuminating the chrome strips on his face whilst Kirishima steps forward with purpose. 

Third, gunfire. It happens in five quick taps of the rifle's trigger, Bakugou hardly shifting from the recoil as he swivels just his upper half whilst hunching his shoulders slightly to ensure each and every single one of his shots is a direct headshot. The sound of bodies slumping on the floor is your cue to finally enter the room, and a part of you wishes you hadn’t.

The room smells horrific, a stench you for some reason recognise as death. But it wasn’t coming from the fresh bodies, no, it was deeper in the large room. The translucent sheets of plastic that hang from the ceiling obscure most of the room, with multiple splatters of blood staining the material. Bakugou lowers his weapon slowly, Kirishima finally parting ways to do his own investigation of the place. 

“Think we got him?” Kirishima asks, using his foot to roll over one of the men Bakugou took out before grimacing at the clean shot between the eyes. Bakugou was a beast with the gun, there’s a reason why he was so sought out by Fixers other than Aizawa. 

“Dunno, I didn’t get a clear look at their faces.” Bakugou comments from the other side of the room, squatting down to roll a guy over to inspect his face. 

Both men are too occupied with the gig to notice that you’re traversing through the middle of the room, pushing past the thin sheets of plastic to grow closer to the source of the blueish neon lights. With each step, the smell grows stronger, a rotting kind of stench mixed with what smells like fried electronics. A shiver rolls down your spine, a warning to stop yourself from pushing past the final sheet of plastic. Your fingers curl against the material, crinkling it and still, both men are blissfully unaware of what you’re about to unveil—

An empty ice bath. 

Your eyebrows furrowed together, multiple thick wires and cords were all scattered around the bath yet there was no one connected to those wires. You take a hesitant step forward, the smell is still so strong—something isn’t right. The ice bath looked fresh, except for the blood staining on either side of the white porcelain, following the streaks upwards until you see a blinking screen displaying vitals.

Ayaka Ichida. Age: 26 Occupation: Arasaka Executive ECG: N/A Blood Pressure: N/A

“Arasaka?” You murmur to yourself, fingers ghosting underneath the word. Why did that name send a painful twinge through your head? Perhaps it was just the notoriety of the corporation. Arasaka were rumoured to be funding the Tyger Claws way back in 2020 but it’s been nearly sixty years since then—

Your eyes lose focus the longer you stare at the screen, no longer looking at the words but rather the reflection of something moving behind you. It’s neither Bakugou nor Kirishima, you would’ve heard them approaching. This is a woman, her skin completely exposed, and dripping wet. Shit. 

Her arm raises, the revolver sitting in her hand looks weighty and it’s definitely fully loaded when you catch the barrel of it. You spin on your heel, a hand stretched out ready to yell at Bakugou to move but it’s like you hit an invisible wall. Everything feels fuzzy in your brain, a wave of electricity passing through your body and shooting up and down your spine. 

You must’ve shouted something because you can see Kirishima raise his head in worry, Bakugou clambering to his feet but it’s as if everything is moving in slow motion. The barrel spins, the trigger clicks and the flash of the gun is bright in your eyes. 

You don’t quite realise you’ve moved until it’s too late, the fuzziness in each of your limbs is all-consuming. It’s as if you’ve been dunked in ice water and your limbs are slowly regaining their warmth—it’s painful. You blink, and suddenly your face is in Bakugou's; his eyes are wide and mouth agape as if he’s at a loss for words. Your entire right arm aches, but your spine hurts something fierce.

Not quite understanding how you had moved from one side of the room to the other, you glance over your shoulder to see the body—it’s more of just a pair of legs at this point, blood sprayed up along the walls and to the ceiling; bits and pieces dripping and dropping with a sickening wet thud. Did you do that?

The ache in your arm brings your eyes back to it, and it’s no surprise to see that the entirety of your arm was replaced with the rifle you had pulled out not too long ago at the Ripperdocs. It doesn’t look like you damaged your arm, the skin easily shifting back into place whilst you turn back to look at Bakugou. There’s a spray of blood on his face too, the blonde of his hair tainted by a dark shade of crimson that almost looked black. Bakugou is looking at you with what you might assume is worry, or some level of it anyway as he still seems to be frowning.

You open your mouth to speak, your throat tightening until you sputter out a thick vicious black liquid. Immediately your hand comes up to your mouth, touching your lips to see the synthetic blood leaking from your lips in thick rivers. “Wha…” you try to speak. Taking a step back from Bakugou, it feels like you’ve been hit by a train, your fingers go to press against the sore spot on your back but instead, you meet—nothing.

Your fingers pass through where your side should’ve been. You can feel the sticky synthetic blood coat your fingers as it continues to pour from your body, you can even feel the outline of the frayed edges of the artificial muscles you didn’t know you had.

“Shit!” There’s a set of hands on your shoulders, your entire world tilting backwards suddenly. “Hold the fuck on!” A voice calls from somewhere, yet you can’t see where it’s coming from. Your senses shut down one by one until you’re left floating in an endless amount of space. 

It’s dark here. 

Cold.

The vastness of the space around you expands over the horizon, and it feels like something is pricking into your skin. It hurts, everything hurts here. It’s too loud, yet it’s completely silent. Glancing down at your hands, your stomach drops and swoops in anxiety at the sight—you’re not made of human matter, but rather data. Pixels, bunched together to form a non-corporeal form of yourself. You’d heard rumours of this before.

Cyberspace. 

It’s an odd feeling, to be existing but also not at the same time. The Net was such a vast expanse of data and network that almost anyone in the world could access but not everyone could take a step into cyberspace in the third dimension. It was jarring without a doubt but the unlimited knowledge one could access whilst inside of it? That’s why there were so many Netrunners, people dedicated to diving into the Net and hacking whatever data they needed. 

But this place you were currently in didn’t feel like you were getting an endless stream of data, it was as if you had been cut off. Everything around you is freezing cold, with not a single thread of data to grab onto to understand just where you are. 

“Hi?” someone says from your side, your head turned sharply to see someone with both lilac hair and eyes, they had a tired expression on their face but even the surprise on their face was easy to spot. 

They hadn’t expected to be put into the Net alongside you. Both of their hands moved up to show they had no weapons, not that an experienced Netrunner would need weapons inside of a place like this. 

“Listen, I was told to try and come pull you out. You’ve been in here for two weeks and—”

“Two?” How has it been that long? You had only just woken up, it felt like you had just been in the gunfight and protected both Bakugou and Kirishima; even potentially giving your life up for the blonde. “I–I don’t understand, how has it been that long? Who even are you?” 

“My name’s Shinsou. You need to listen to me very carefully if you want me to get you out of here, okay?” He takes a step closer, stretching out a hand in an attempt to touch you—

There’s a pounding on your head, a throbbing pain that spreads behind your eyes and down to the base of your skull. Accompanying the throb is a low hum, more of a thrumming kind of noise that beckons you to turn around. Slowly you do, eyes glancing up from your hands to meet a set of dull blurred verdant eyes. Though these eyes do not seem familiar, they seem deadly, calculating. They glare at you through the opaque screen you hadn’t noticed, you can just about make out their body on the other side.

They have a single hand pressed against the screen, and the other curled into a fist that’s repeatedly beating against the screen. Each time it hits you can feel the pressure on your brain, was this your own consciousness? Who was this person? You move to take a step back but their punches only grow more frantic, more aggressive. It’s getting louder and louder, and the pressure on your brain is unbearable. Why can’t you wake up? The throbbing grows more intense until there’s a shooting pain that brings you down to your knees, curling your fingers into the ground. 

You can’t hear the voice of the man named Shinsou anymore, you’re not even sure if he’s still there. All you can focus on is the throbbing pain, the way it chokes you and holds you in place. Demanding your attention.

“Found you.” A static-filled voice speaks from the darkness, and you look up to see the crack in the screen with a much clearer view of almost black-green hair. It sounds like he might be laughing, it sounds almost manic before he calls out a name, a name you can’t ignore—your name. “I’ll see you soon.” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, the world around you started to melt away until you were left in complete darkness once again, though this darkness felt somehow different. You could feel something beneath you, smooth and metallic, familiar.

The second time you awake in the Ripperdocs office isn’t quite as jarring as the first, the lights are dimmed and there are no arguing voices. It’s easy to open your eyes, staring up at the overhead lights that have been turned off. The room is silent, the only distant noise is the street just on the other side of the door. 

Slowly you rise from the table you had been laid out on, you didn’t need to look around to know you were alone this time. Has it really been two weeks since—you gasp, fingers touching the side where you had been hit but instead you meet the warm flesh of your body? Looking down to confirm that you weren’t imagining it, it looked like you hadn’t even been hit. No scars. Nothing.

There’s a laugh nearby, drawing your attention to the set of double doors you had never set foot through before. You slide from the cold table, your bare feet gently slapping on the cold tile floor. Taking a step forward your body falters, swaying to the side on uneasy legs, the table of surgical instruments clatters when you bump a hip against it and you freeze to see if anyone would be alerted to your presence. 

No one comes bursting through the door.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you take another step forward. This time you were careful of where you placed your feet, and with each slow yet steady step you finally regain control over your legs. Soon enough you’re standing in front of the double doors, the voices on the other side muffled but they don’t sound familiar in the slightest. Were you even back with Bakugou and Kirishima? Had you been sold off as Bakugou had wanted? Fear danced up and down your spine, you’d have to fight your way out of here if that was the case. 

Steadying your heart, you raised your hand carefully to the door, ready to burst through.

Three… Two… One.

You slam the door open, throwing your body through the now open space and your arm lifts as if on autopilot to readjust the metal plating to reveal the rifle buried deep into your very bones. With a quick scan of the room, you register you’re inside what looks like a common room of some sorts. There was a sofa, a pool table, a kitchen on the east side of the room and a gigantic TV that was broadcasting something. 

There’s movement, a heat signature, and your arm automatically moves to point at the two men who are on the sofa. The yellow-haired one is the first to scream, then the one with black hair who scrambles off of the sofa to try and seek safety. 

“W-Wait!” The black-haired one yells, throwing his hands up, “Don’t shoot! We’re not the enemy!” 

Another door on the other side of the room beside the kitchen bursts open, there’s a scrambling of feet and clambering to all get in the room first. But Bakugou is the first in, his hand firm around the gun in hand as he raises it ready to shoot until he realises he has the barrel of his gun pointed at you. If you weren’t staring at him you might’ve missed the way his shoulders sag in relief. Kirishima is next to come in, eyes darting from both men who were sprawled amongst the mess of chips and used beer cans that had been dashed across the room in their attempt to flee immediate death. 

“Oh, you’re awake.” A voice that’s now familiar to you calls your name, the man with lilac hair sidesteps around the two hulking figures. There’s a lazy smile on his face, “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

Both Kirishima and Bakugou parrot the name Shinsou had given you, eyes drifting from Shinsou and to you, connecting the name to the face they’ve been living with for a while now. 

“Yep, that’s the name of our friend here.” Shinsou walks into the room as if there wasn’t just a standoff moments ago, dropping into an unoccupied seat. “We should probably tell you everything that happened whilst you were ‘out’.” He makes quotation marks around the word, both of you missing the way Bakugou has his eyes locked onto you—or more importantly, your side. Shinsou gestures for you to sit down, and you make your way around the couch slowly whilst the two men you had scared scamper to sit elsewhere. 

“I’ll be blunt with you. You’ve been out for nearly three weeks in total. We would’ve tried to pull you out faster but… you have some very impressive chrome. It took me two weeks to break your defences and even then you rejected me in a heartbeat.” 

Your eyes break away from Shinsou as he explains your ‘absence’ to watch Bakugou as he tentatively perches on the arm of the couch right next to you, both of his arms crossed over his chest. But the things Shinsou is saying make no sense, you hadn’t pushed him out, it was—you scrunch your eyebrows together, the headache still ever present in the back of your mind the harder you think. 

The silence stretches out in the room, just the sound of the TV droning on about Militech moving towards renewing partnerships with Lazarus. 

Shinsou clears his throat, demanding your attention once again. “Your wounds actually healed by themselves. You have synthetic muscles but they’re something else. No one has ever seen something like that, even Uraraka said it’s not something Rippers can get their hands on.” 

“Yeah… you weren’t actually breathing by the time we got you back here… I—We thought you were going to die.” Kirishima supplies from his position behind the couch, both of his hands clamped on the back of it and you can see the worry settled on his face when you look up at him. So you were dead for a portion of time, had all your chrome and cyberware saved your life? If what Shinsou said is true about your muscles repairing themselves then the time locked into your consciousness made sense.

Shinsou seems to notice the shift in the air first, clearing his throat before he stands up. He gives a stern look towards both Kaminari and Sero who are blatantly staring at you as if you were some anomaly. “We should go.” 

“But—” the one with the yellow hair and black streak starts, eyes darting back to you with a question that was probably best unasked.

“Nope. Get the fuck up, we’re leaving.” Shinsou commands, already partway out of the door and he knows Sero and Kaminari will follow as he doesn’t bother looking back. 

And soon enough, it is just you, Kirishima and Bakugou who looks like he’s about to shit himself with how tense he is next to you. It’s awkward, to say the least. You’re not quite sure what you should say, sorry for the trouble? Sorry for not dying? You’re sure that last one would apply to Bakugou, he had wanted you gone. 

“Why?” 

It’s Bakugou who breaks the silence, his head held now between his hands as he stares intently down at his shoes; knee bouncing, he’s anxious. You glance at Kirishima but the redhead just shrugs, urging you to look back at Bakugou. “Why what?”

“Why the fuck did you take the hit, huh?” His eyes meet yours, and you can’t miss the white of his eyes partially red, he was on the verge of tears. “Why the fuck would you do that when I mean nothing to you? It makes no fucking sense, no one just jumps in front of a bullet for someone. I wouldn’t have fuckin’ done it for yo–” He stops himself short, chewing on the words on his tongue that are better left unsaid. But the words still sting the same regardless of how true it is: Bakugou would not have taken a bullet for you, he would not have risked his life for you. Why did you care so much?

“I don’t know.” But it’s not the answer Bakugou is searching for, a frown is on his face but it’s not quite the same as the usual one you often saw him wearing. This one looked pained and confused. He diverts his gaze quickly, refusing to look at you once again before running a hand through his hair. “I guess I felt like I owed you for saving my life.” 

Bakugou only gives you one last glare before he’s up from his spot and marching back out of the room, leaving an icy chill in his wake that makes Kirishima sigh. 

“He means to say thank you, it’s… been a lot for him. We really did think you’d die on us back there, and I think Bakugou didn’t want another death on his conscience that wasn’t done by his own hand.”

Kirishima stands to his full height when you do, both his hands buried into the pockets of his jacket. “Anyway, let’s just go back home, yeah? You probably want to shower.” 

“Tellin’ me I smell, Kirishima? You don’t smell of roses yourself big guy.” You grin when he smiles at you, the banter between the two of you is easy. His shoulders sag with relief before he’s strutting out of the room before you. 

“Nah, not roses. Just pure manliness.” 

“Manliness smells like a Maelstrom cesspit?” Kirishima whirls on you with his mouth agape, a chuckle leaving his mouth.

The city opens up to both of you when you step out of the doors, the difference this time being it’s the middle of the day and the streets are bustling with people going to and fro with their plans for the day. You take a deep breath in, Kirishima still rattling on just next to you about how Maelstrom actually doesn’t smell that bad. You break into an easy smile, a genuine laugh leaving your mouth for the first time in a long time. 

A tingle runs up and down your spine, the shard slot on your neck buzzing as if someone was tugging on it, you look in the opposite direction of Kirishima to see if perhaps there was a nearby jammer or Netrunner who tripped on your own network.

But instead, you’re faced with something that makes it feel like you’ve been submerged beneath icy waters, your bones rigid and muscles tightened. 

Standing idle amongst the moving crowd is a large man, with broad shoulders but that isn’t what makes him stick out like a sore thumb. It’s not the corporate suit he’s wearing, but rather it’s the mop of green hair on his head accompanied by emerald eyes that are wide with mirth when you meet his gaze over the crowd. You can see his lips move, but it's like his voice is deep in the back of your brain.

‘Soon.’

Kirishima calls your name from your side, drawing your attention back to him for a split second before you glance back towards the crowd. The man was gone. “All good? Do you need more blockers?”

“Huh?” You blink up at him, blockers? Oh. Meds that rippers always pumped you full with whenever you had any amount of cyberware. When was the last time you had taken some anyway? “No, uh, I’m fine, thank you. Think I just need a real sleep.” 

“You just woke up from like a month-long nap, you’re telling me you’re still tired?” He grins down at you, guiding you back down the familiar street. 

“Yeah, I guess so.” 

The door to the apartment slides open with a hiss, revealing the dim lights of the amber overhead lights. Bakugou was home. Kirishima steps in first, shedding the thick jacket he had on to toss it onto one of the hooks. You followed after him easily enough, it hadn’t felt like so much time had passed but looking around the apartment you could see it. 

Things had been moved, the plant on the window ledge had blossomed and grown beautiful red leaves. Stepping further into the apartment, you watch Kirishima disappear behind a black glass door that slides open for a split second to reveal Bakugou who was hunched over what looked like one of his rifles before the door slid shut. 

You had been forbidden to enter the armoury, it was for Bakugou and Kirishima only. Bakugou had come with that rule, you couldn’t blame him but it wasn’t as if you needed their weapons. The thought of the gun embedded in your arm makes it ache, a tingling sensation that numbs your fingertips momentarily. Sitting down on the couch, you let out a sigh of relief when your muscles finally decompress and relax. 

Despite your body relaxing your mind was still running far too fast, too many thoughts bouncing back and forth—you suppose it’s from the fact you were connected to the Net with no blockers, all that information could fry someone's brain and you’re just glad it hadn’t happened to you. 

The peace and quiet doesn’t last long however, soon enough the entrance door opens with a whoosh and you turn in time to see a multitude of people walk in. You recognise two by name; Aizawa and Shinsou. You recognise both men with yellow hair and black hair, but there’s a woman with them that you haven’t met before with short dark purple hair. 

“What the fuck are you all doin’ in my fucking house?” Bakugou growls from near the armoury, arms crossing over his chest.

“You didn’t think we’d let you walk away with the coolest new member of the gang, right?” The one with yellow hair flops into the seat next to you, long gone is the fear he had shown just earlier that day. 

He grins at you when you stare at him, “Denki Kaminari, but you can call me whatever you want.” Kaminari offers with an easy smile, earning him a snort from the black-haired man who smacks him on the back of the head.

“Ignore him. Name’s Sero, it’s nice to meet you without a gun pointed in my face.” You shake his hand when he offers it to you, still wordless at how they’re effortlessly welcoming you into their gang. 

“Don’t fucking ignore me!” Bakugou finally yells, but no one flinches at the volume of his voice. “What the fuck are you all doing in my house?!” 

“New job.” Aizawa supplies, and immediately the room plummets into silence. “I know it’s only been hours since you woke up, but we really could use your help on this next one.” 

Bakugou moves to open his mouth, but Shinsou jumps in. “You’re the only one here who can disappear from someone's optical enhancements. Do you know how rare that is? We wouldn’t be asking you to do this if we didn’t think you’d be able to pull it off without any problems.” 

Aizawa continues, “You won’t be doing it alone of course. The whole crew will be going, but you will be the key player in this job, you’ll have to be the one to go in first.”

“When?” is the first thing you ask, and all eyes shift to you. 

“In three days. Ideally, we would’ve done it sooner but I figured you might want to rest first. From what I hear, you had quite the trip on the Net.” 

Aizawa notices the way your eyebrows furrow, “Shinsou was in there with you, but it was Jirou–” He points over his shoulder at the girl, who raises a hand for a moment. “–who broke through your defences. Apparently, there was some resistance from an outside source. Got anyone who'd be interested in protecting the data in your head?” 

You shake your head, the only outside source may have been the man with green hair but even then you weren’t sure if he was real or not. You hadn’t been on blockers, you had been using your chrome carelessly. It could just be exhaustion. 

Aizawa just nods his head, turning his attention to both Kirishima and Bakugou before gesturing with his head for them to come to talk to him privately. Kaminari and Sero both dive instantly at the chance to talk to you, gushing over the cyberware you were sporting. Apparently, they had never met someone who lived to tell the tale after having so much changed.

Aizawa sighs when he’s away from the group, slumping against the wall whilst Bakugou and Kirishima stand before him. Kirishima looks tense, and Bakugou is… well, Bakugou. 

“You remember the original job?” Both men nod. “The package you were ordered to retrieve is Arasaka’s countermeasure to the new power Militech has come into. Jirou had a look at it and apparently, it’s some sort of advanced AI that can short-circuit everyone in its vicinity and even cause people to spiral into Cyberpsychosis.” 

“What the fuck?” Kirishima murmurs, keeping his voice down so as to not alert the others.

“What’ve you done with it?” Bakugou asks, not missing the wince on Aizawa’s face.

“Handed it back to them.” Bakugou’s frown deepens, lip curling to reveal gums and canines but Aizawa jumps back in. “I didn’t have a choice, Bakugou. It was tracked, after you left with the girl they sent some jacked-up chrome head to come and pick it up.”

Bakugou runs a hand through his hair, gripping at the roots. This was bad. Arasaka were pieces of shit when it came to cyberware and if they were going to hit Militech with this then another corporate war would definitely be on the cards. “Shit, fuck. You sure it was an Arasaka guy that came to pick it up, not someone working for D—?” 

“No, if I picked up on his chip, I would’ve put a bullet between his eyes myself.” 

“Not if I do it first.” Bakugou snarls, earning a nod of approval from Kirishima. “Fucker already ruined our lives enough, we don't need him to get his hands on something that could kill us all.”

“You think they know about her?” Kirishima prompts after a beat of silence, all three men turn their attention to watch you on the couch. You were still static, Kaminari arguing with Sero about something whilst Jirou and Shinsou teased Kaminari about whatever it was. You looked out of place but at the same time, it felt as if you were always meant to be amongst the crew. You smiled easily, even laughing along with the group. 

“I don’t doubt it. Jirou said the outside source that was blocking her from hacking into the system was military grade. She has something important to someone very wealthy. With this next job, stick close to her. If Arasaka makes a move, they’ll be trying to take her out first. If Militech makes a move…” 

Aizawa shares a look with Bakugou before the blonde nods in understanding. “Good. Good luck on this next one, you’re going to need it when working with those idiots.”

Both men watch Aizawa leave before joining the rest of the gang on the couch, Bakugou sinks into a spot opposite of you and Kirishima slumps himself not too far from everyone, his legs spreading as he fully reclines into the seat. All attention is still on you, and Bakugou can’t help but keep his eyes locked on you. 

“We should celebrate!” Kaminari grins, practically bouncing in his seat at the prospect. 

“Celebrate what?” Kirishima is the one brave enough to take on Kaminari, effortlessly shifting the attention away from you momentarily.

“The newest member, obviously! I think we should show her a good time.” There’s a series of groans, a squawk of indignation from Kaminari whilst Sero berates him for always making everything an innuendo. Yet Bakugou can’t find it within himself to fight the decision, his eyes watch the way your eyebrows lift in interest before a smile brightens your features.

Maybe he’ll go along with it, just this one.

...

Part of him wishes he had fought Kaminari on some part of it. It was no surprise that the bar hopping eventually led them to visit Jig-Jig Street. It wasn’t the nicest place to be, it was the rundown part of Japantown that people often went to when they were desperate enough to get their dick wet. 

Jig-Jig Street was the red light district of Night City, where you could ‘buy love’ by the hour or even get in contact with dealers who would sell you the most exotic of drugs or enhancements that would cost you a pretty penny. It was dangerous too, something that Bakugou often argued about whenever the others tried to drag him here. Too many times he had come home with a nasty black eye or even in the back of a police car from the fights that broke out here.

The crude flashing neon signs had Bakugou hunching in on himself, practically snarling at Denki who dared to poke fun at the gigantic blonde. Thankfully, it’s Kirishima who once again saves the day by shooing Kaminari away with the rest of the gang before he draws Bakugou in by his shoulder. 

Bakugou just grunts, crossing his arms over the broadness of his chest before his eyes drift towards the redhead who’s now staring down at him. 

“What?” Bakugou barks, modified canines adding to the visage of him being a feral dog. 

Kirishima just laughs, “Loosen up man, let Denks have his fun. I have a feeling this next job is going to be a hefty one.” 

Bakugou shakes his head, squaring his jaw whilst he mulls over Kirishima’s words. He supposes Kirishima isn’t exactly wrong; this next job feels like there’s a heavy weight resting on them. An expectation of something; something that Bakugou hasn’t quite figured out yet. 

His eyes drift over towards you, embedded right in the middle of their little group. You still were a little bit stiff, eyes blinking owlishly whenever Kaminari came on a little too strong—but the alcohol had helped you loosen him, he thinks, you seem to smile a lot more now. 

“Whatever, get the fuck off me.” Bakugou snips, shoving Kirishima’s hand off of him and Kirishima knows not to take it to heart. Instead, he steps aside, watching his oldest friend stalk away into the crowd to god knows where. 

Bakugou wades through the crowds, dodging the half-naked bodies and the people high out of their minds who attempt to grab at him for his attention. He hated this part of town, it was the worst part of Night City – besides the gang wars and other shit the corpos got up to.

But this was a display of the depravity of the city, a show of just how long people would sink to feel something in this shithole of a city. 

Finally, Bakugou breaks out of the crowd into the open street. It was empty, given that it was nearing three in the morning. He lifts his head to stare at the sky, the overcast clouds enough to make him grumpier. The rain always fucked with his chrome, the cold chill that came with it would send it haywire. 

Glancing back, he can’t see the group he came with anymore and something in him itches to find you and make sure you didn’t get into any trouble that naturally comes with both Sero and Kaminari. 

“Running away?” A voice comes from his side, and it takes the years of experience that comes with being a hired gun to not jump out of his skin. His head snaps down, and a shiver rolls down his spine when he meets your gaze. 

“Yeah,” he admits, surprisingly, “Can’t fuckin’ stand this place. And you should split when you can too, you’ll end up getting roped into a threesome or some shit.”

That makes you purse your lips in an attempt to smother laughter before the corner of your lips threatens to break into a smile, there’s an easy air around you. You seem more relaxed, most definitely because of the drinks you had been throwing back when Kirishima challenged you. 

“Nah, Kirishima let me leave.” Bakugou arches an eyebrow at that, Kirishima had known you were leaving too? That motherfucker. He knew you’d come following after him, like a moth to a flame. “Figured it’d be safer to walk home with you than try and navigate my way out of here.”

That has Bakugou nodding in agreement, the fuzziness of tonight's drinks softens his need to put his guard up around you. “C’mon, it’s about to piss down and I’m not getting caught in it.”

He’s already walking away, and it doesn’t take long for you to match his stride. Your own hands are buried in the pockets of the orange jacket Kirishima had given you all that time ago – did you know it was his? He bought it with one of his first paychecks, it was in one of his favourite shades of orange but somehow it looked much better on you. 

His eyes drift away from the jacket you’re wearing and up to your face, you’re eyeing the signs as you walk by. They’re a range of ads for braindances that plunge you into a full-blown porno and ads for physical enhancements for stamina. It’s no surprise that everything in this part of town was about sex, Japantown practically ran off of it. 

But his eyes catch on your bottom lip, how you worry it over with your teeth and squint a little like you’re not really reading everything that goes by. 

“Somethin’ on your mind?” 

“Huh?” You look up at him finally, and it makes Bakugou’s chest flutter with something unknown. It takes everything in him to push it down, chalking it to the previous train of thought about advertisements. 

“What you worrying about? Yer gonna chew through your fuckin’ lip if you keep overthinking whatever it is.” 

The way your eyebrows draw together and your face nearly crumples makes him want to backtrack, but instead you wipe your face of whatever emotion you had just felt. 

“It’s hard to explain. More of a feeling than anything.” 

Something Bakugou isn’t good with, he’s not one to talk about his feelings or whatever the fuck is plaguing his mind. “Just spit it out.”

You follow him up the steps to the large apartment building, and yet you remain silent as you try to mull over the words you want to say. Bakugou expects you to just ignore his request, and he doesn’t blame you. He’d never talk about his feelings even if someone held a gun to his head.

Once inside the apartment, he watches as you sidestep around him to go and stand before the large window. Pressing a button to let the metal shutters roll upwards in quick succession until the district of Japantown is exposed to you. It’s a sea of neon lights, people ebbing and flowing like water as they move around each other without ever looking away from the devices in their hands or implanted in their minds.

“Can I show you?” You speak finally, once he shucks off his jacket and flings it onto the back of the sofa. He eyes you for a moment, show him? Show him what, your feelings? His nose crinkles in thought, but he finds himself relenting. The liquid courage he drank earlier makes itself known when he relaxes on the sofa. 

“Sure,” and you’re turning to look at him as if you expected him to shout at you or worse. But you don’t comment about it, scared to lose your chance so you move over to him. Settling into the seat next to him he can’t help but notice you don’t budge him at all, your own weight nothing compared to his own — had you always been this tiny? 

“You gonna kiss me or some shit?” He blurts when you turn to face him, your knee pressed into his thigh and he tries to not think about the bareness of your legs. You snort, however, shaking your head.

“No, nothing like that.” And you’re reaching for him despite that, his body grows rigid beneath your touch. Your fingers are gentle as they stroke along the smoothness of his neck before they card up through the short hairs of his undercut at the nape of his neck. You’re so close he can see the intricate thin strips of metal that help with your enhanced eyesight. 

He doesn’t find himself moving away, but rather leaning into the gentleness of the touch. 

“Hold still,” is all you supply before he feels something slip against the back of his neck, the plating shifting and moving until his body involuntarily jolts. Everything in his body yells at him to move, to stop you from doing whatever the fuck you’re doing but it’s too late. The connection is made and he’s plummeted into darkness.

There’s a blinding light and he blinks it away, only to find himself submerged in what must be the depths of your consciousness. It’s similar to what he’d seen in his short dips into cyberspace when the time called for it, but this is different. He’s standing in the middle of nowhere, screens and flicking images dash around him. 

Memories, he realises. Your memories from the moment you woke up and up until the very moment you sat down with him, but it’s not the memories you’re showing. Rather it’s the emotions connected to them, it’s bombarding his senses. He feels the tug at his heart, the fear that races up his spine when you first woke up in an unknown place and then the blissfulness you had felt when he took a bullet for him.

How could you feel at peace when you were going to die? It was too much for him to wrap his mind around, and quickly the emotion was changing. There was a sadness that weighed down on his body this time like his body was being pulled into icy waters when he heard the words he spat at you when you first woke up. 

You felt sad? Bakugou didn’t know, it made his heart ache something fierce. He didn’t want you to feel sad because of him – fuck, he just wanted you to know how much it bothered him for you to dive in front of him like that. He wanted you to know just how much time he spent in that shitty docs office, watching your near-lifeless body repair itself before his very eyes. 

But he couldn’t tell you that, he couldn’t tell you that Kirishima often was the one to wake him up from his slump across your lap in the mornings when he fell asleep hoping you’d just wake the fuck up and explain yourself.

Another jump in emotions, and he feels happiness – acceptance. You’re sitting among all his friends, and even with him in the picture, you feel like you found a place. Something in the memory makes his eyebrows raise, you glance at him and that feeling spikes. It feels like a thunderous amount of butterflies flutter in his stomach, rising up until they bombard his heart. 

He hadn’t even known you were looking at him like that. Yet beneath all that, he could feel the melancholy that came with your circumstance. You don’t feel like you belong, or perhaps it was the reality of your previous life's existence that weighs heavily on you. You had unresolved business, and that’s something Bakugou can relate to fully.

The next time he blinks, he feels the pressure of your forehead against his own. The slipping of the cord from his plating and how your fingers curl a little more into the longer hair further up the back of his head.

“Do you get it now?” You’re the first to break the tension, your question but a whisper above the whirring of the fan above your heads. 

And he thinks he does, that feeling that you couldn’t quite describe. You were content yet you were lost, you were happy yet you had a longing for something. You felt something towards him that was so indescribable it made his heart flutter. So he just nods, his own forehead pressing a little harder against yours to get it across that he truly does get it. 

His hand cups your jaw, thumb rolling across the fullness of your cheek before it presses into the flesh just a little. Your breath smells sweet; faintly reminding him of the drinks the both of you had earlier in the night. He doesn’t suspect you’re drunk, he definitely isn’t but that soft buzz keeps him from thinking too much. 

“It’s so confusing.” You admit, the word is just a breath against his lips and he finds himself wanting to swallow it. “I don’t want to think.”

That’s enough of a sign for him to make a move, his stomach churns with anxious excitement when he leans in. His lips finally press to yours in a tentative touch, your lips are warm and just as soft as they look. It draws him further, and further until his lips are moving against your own in a fluid movement. 

You don’t fight him when his hand slips to the back of your neck, pulling you into position so you can’t escape when he pries your mouth open with his tongue. The sweetness is stronger on your tongue, tangy with alcohol yet intoxicatingly enjoyable when he explores you like he might never get the chance again. 

It’s like everything explodes at that point, Bakugou grows insatiable; he needs to taste you. He needs to know you inside and out, this hunger pooling low in his stomach and burning a river of fire down to his groin. It makes him groan into the kiss when you offer a reprieve for a quick breath, he nips and bites at your bottom lip to see if he can pull any noises from you.

And he delights in it when he can, your moans are so foreign to him yet it’s a heady feeling. It has him tugging at you until you’re situated over the tops of his thighs, and in a fluid motion, he’s standing. His hands cupped under your ass, squeezing and massaging the flesh that he’s never had the chance to feel before. 

It takes him no time at all to cross the space from the living room to his bedroom, the door sliding open and closed with a hiss before the automatic locks click into place. He tosses you from his grip onto the plushness of his bed, the sheets still rumpled from the morning when he didn’t bother to make it. 

Bakugou looms over you like a predator, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths – you’re no better than he is, your lips are swollen and wet from his ministrations. Your heavy breathing only accentuates your breasts, drawing his attention down to them to see the rise and fall of your chest. His fingers move automatically, tucking underneath his shirt to tug it over his head. 

It’s flung off into some unknown direction, and when he looks up you’re leaning up. Your fingers skate along the sharp edges of his muscles, pressing into the places where the fat resides. Then you trace along scars that are white and some that are pink; you’re transfixed on him. It makes him preen under your gaze, and in your momentary distraction, he undoes the belt on his jeans before they’re pushed down too. 

The smile you give him makes his heart pitter-patter in his chest, you’re smiling up at him as if he’s the world to you. But the rational still-sober part of his mind insists that it’s just for the sex – he’s just a one-night stand to you and the feeling is mutual. Right? That is what Bakugou wants out of this, right? The tension in his stomach is unnerving, something akin to nausea at the idea of letting this not blossom into something more.

But he doesn’t get to ruminate on it further, your fingers drift downwards along the deep V on his hips until you’re at the top of his boxers. Automatically his fingers stroke up along your jaw, across your cheek until he’s hooking his fingers to the back of your head when you start to lean in closer. 

The feeling of your lips against the hard outline of his cock makes him jolt and melt at the same time, the rumbling moan is deep in his chest. How long had it been since he was last with someone? Fuck, he doesn’t even know but he can’t focus when the tip of your tongue slowly drags up along the thick vein on the underside of his cock.

He must jolt too harshly because you laugh a little to yourself before you take pity on him. Bakugou wants to snap at you, shut you up for even daring to laugh at him but the words die on his tongue the second he even thinks of them. Your hands are undeniably soft when you wrap your hand around his hardness. 

There’s a small crease between your eyebrows, an indication of either your concentration or perhaps your trepidation for what’s to come. 

“Lie back,” he offers instead, your eyes drifting back up to meet his and you slip free from the hand hooked on the back of your head, the loss of your softness around his length leaves a longing that lingers in the depths of his stomach. This time he takes the time to undress you, sliding you free of the dress Mina had managed to wrangle you into. 

It looked far too good on you, something he wouldn’t admit at the start of the night but his inhibitions continue to slip. “Look at you, so beautiful.” 

His fingers skim up along the now bare expanse of your hips, brushing past your panties line and mapping their way up your sides. You’re just as scarred as he is, but yours are so different from his. He can see the almost invisible lines where someone has taken a scalpel to you and modified your body. Did you even know who did it?

He swallows the lump down in his throat, forcing his attention up to your breasts once his hands brush along the sides. His thumbs roll up over your nipples beneath your bra, the pebbled skin hard enough–sensitive enough to earn him a shiver of delight. The smile that brightens up his face is nothing short of sinful, it shows the modified canines and displays all his carnal desires without him having to even utter a word.

You lift your body up when he demands it, letting him slip you free of your underwear until you’re as bare as he is. And Holy fuck, you’re fucking gorgeous. His eyes leave no part of you unseen, his gaze roaming over you until you’re practically squirming.

“Please.” You whisper, gasping when his fingers finally find a home in the width of your hips. “Stop staring and do something.” 

That has an eyebrow rising in your direction. “Oh? Someone’s demanding when she wants something. You want me to hurry up and fuck you until you’re too dumb to remember your own name?” 

“You’re too much.” You all but whine, and he imagines he’d be able to feel the heat in your cheeks if he were to lean in closer.

“You have no idea.” Bakugou grins, a sultry smile that has your hips bucking beneath his iron grip and he’s swooping down. 

Lips pressing into yours in a much more hurried fashion compared to earlier; it’s a hunger that can only serve to work someone up until the point of completion. It has his tongue rolling into your mouth, brushing against the back of your teeth and trying to hear you choke on him when he’s bearing his weight down on you.

He’s positively devouring you, and his hands work to spread your legs wide for him on either side of the thickness of his own thighs. Then his fingers make their way down between your legs, brushing against the crease between where your thighs bend. You’re whining, moaning and biting back just as hard when he dares to bite your bottom lip. 

He wants to fucking ruin you. 

Bakugou draws his head back just enough to peer down at you, the light filtering in through the half-shuttered window highlights parts of you that are otherwise shrouded in the darkness. It illuminates the harsh rise and fall in your lungs, the way your nipples are pebbled in the cool air and the slight glisten on your inner thighs.

Finally, he indulges you. His fingers press between your folds to slide against your clit before they slowly venture downwards. His middle and ring fingers circle against your entrance teasingly slow, his lips parting to breathe in your whines for more. 

His eyebrows crumple with your own when you moan at the intrusion of his thick fingers, his head is swimming with how intoxicating it is to be above you like this. To have this level of power over someone who could definitely kill him before he could blink.

The stretch is easy enough with how wet you got so quickly for him, and he groans all low and rumbling in his chest at just how tight you are. You’re so soft and velvety inside, your walls clenching rhythmically with your deep inhales.

For a moment, he just holds his fingers deep inside of you completely still. Relishing in the way you try to shift your hips beneath him despite how he’s pinning you down beneath the weight of his own body. It’s such a stark difference to the nervous wreck he’s seen you as, and so fucking better than the cold-blooded killer he knew you were deep down. 

“Fuckin’ look at you.” He whispers into the heated air between the sparse gap between you two, his eyes half-lidded as they meet your own. You’re trying your hardest to glare at him, but you can’t quite fight the euphoric feeling of him curling his fingers just a little to shut you down. 

“Who knew all it took to get you nice and compliant was to stuff you full with my fingers?” His tone is a little mean, a little condescending. The tears don’t come for you however, but he can see you slowly dropping into the headspace he wants you to be in. 

“Please,” you beg—a plea, a sweet melody that Bakugou thinks he wants to listen to for the rest of his life. But this was just a one-night stand, right? 

“Tell me what you want.” 

“Just–... Move already, please.” He grins wide at the whimper at the end of your words. A small part of him wants to draw this out, make you suffer just a little but the rational voice in his mind tells him he’ll only get more out of you if he obliges. 

So he does. His fingers crook upwards, brushing against the spongy spot that no one but he could reach with the length of his fingers. The reaction is immediate, you moan so sweetly that it has his own eyes threatening to flutter and roll into the back of his head. 

You’re practically gushing around his fingers as he fucks them into you, repeatedly crooking his fingers in an attempt to see how quickly he could make you crumble beneath the palm of his hand. Your thighs tense up, squeezing around his own when you try to close your legs to stop the onslaught of his fingers. 

Bakugou noses into your cheek when you tilt your head back, your lips parted as you try to breathe in. But he doesn’t give you the chance, he pushes you further into the bed with his weight, shifting his body up just slightly so your hips are forced to bend with him – then suddenly he’s fucking his fingers into you impossibly deeper.

His lips hover just next to your temple, panting heavily against you. It’s a task and a half to stop himself from painting the inside of his boxers that he’s still yet to remove. But he’s a man on a mission, and that mission is to make you cum on his fingers.

He doesn’t stop when he feels your hand clamp down around his forearm, the strength there is enough to stop a moving truck—except you’re distracted, lost in the pleasure that races up and down your spine until it settles in the back of your mind. You’re too lost in your own head to be embarrassed about the sloppy sounds between your thighs, his fingers forcing more and more juices from you until he’s certain his bed will be soaked through.

As much as Bakugou wants to watch your pussy take his fingers so well, he can’t move his gaze away from your face. You look like something they used to paint in cathedrals, an angel. Your head is thrown back into his pillows, eyes scrunched closed and mouth open to let your moans spill free. The light from outside bathes you in neon colours, catching on the metallic strips of your chrome. 

Even if it is just a one-night stand, Bakugou doesn’t think he’ll be able to forget the image of you in the throes of pleasure. 

Especially not when you finally do reach your climax for him. Your hand at his wrist tightens immediately, your thighs lock up with a tension that would worry him if he wasn’t aware of the intricate materials that you were composed of. Your chest stutters, and your mouth opens wider until he’s gifted with the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard; a series of moans that grow breathier with each pass of his fingers. 

“‘S too much.” You protest weakly, the hand that was wrapped around his wrist pushes in an attempt to free your swollen pussy from his long fingers. But he doesn’t pull out yet, only slowing down the roll of his wrist until finally he pulls free. Your entire body relaxes finally, muscles growing lax from where they’re wrapped around his waist. 

“It only takes one time and you’re done?” Bakugou questions with a teasing arch of his eyebrow, watching in amusement when your head rolls slightly to glare at him. It’s a hardly-there glare but you still give it to him regardless, it makes him grin down at you. “Nah, you’re not done.”

You’re like putty in his hands with how easily he manoeuvres your body around, tucking both of your legs together before twisting your lower half to the side. A large arm keeps your legs held up and off to the side, whilst his unoccupied hand strokes along the rigid length of his cock. It aches, pearled with pre-cum from just watching you cream all over his hand.

He levels the tip of his drooling cock to your entrance, easily finding the hole that was previously spread so wide around just two of his fingers. The warmth is intoxicating, flooding his senses and clouding his mind. He doesn’t even notice you moving just slightly to slide a hand down over your hip to feel the length of his cock disappearing deeper and deeper inside of you.

The groan Bakugou lets out once his hips fall flush against your own is sinful enough to have you clenching around him, turning that beautiful groan into a hiss through clenched teeth. He snaps his gaze up to you, only to see your own gaze heedy with lust and half-lidded. He can feel every single inch of your velveteen walls, can feel the way you’re still panting and clenching around his cock. 

He thinks he could die here, quite happily might he add.

A large hand comes down to your ass, shifting the flesh just enough so he can flit his eyes downwards and see the sticky mess that’s already tacking his pubic hair. That same hand comes back down again to level your ass with a firm spank, and it has you squeezing around him tight enough to stop him from rolling his hips back to start fucking you.

It’s enough to make him forget he’s fucking you raw.

“Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ hard. You like it that much, hm?” Bakugou goads with a bite to his bottom lip when he feels you pulse at the tone he takes with you. With enough willpower, he rolls his hips backwards just enough to pull himself out halfway before fucking his cock back into you. “Tell me how much you like it.” 

His stomach tenses when you brush the pads of your fingers against the tensed muscles there, his eyes drift away from where he was connected to you, along your arm until he finds your face. You’re looking him in the eye, eyelids heavy and lips parted when you moan low at the feeling of him rolling his hips smoothly once again. 

“Say it,” Bakugou bares his teeth at you, the modified fangs in his mouth gleaming with the passing lights through the window.

“Bak—” 

He moves before he can even think, faster than you can react. His hand engulfs the entirety of your lower face, thick fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks until he can feel the solid metal that was buried in your very muscles. Your eyes are wide, more alert but you don’t fight him surprisingly. Bakugou hunches his body over your own until his forehead connects with yours, forcing you to look directly into his eyes.

The angle he’s at now has your eyebrows crumpling together, mouth opening in a wordless moan—he’s so fucking deep that he’s pretty certain he’s pressed right against your cervix.

“No, use my fuckin’ name.” He growls in your face, hissing his words through clenched teeth. You’re clenching around him so tightly that his head feels like it’s filled with nanites, infiltrating his brain until all he can think about is you, you, you.

A harsh thrust of his hips has you gasping, he can see you fighting the urge to let your eyes roll back and eyelashes flutter closed to bask fully in the pleasure. But you keep his gaze, sturdy and unyielding. 

“Katsuki.”

He’s never heard his given name on your tongue before, so breathy and sweet that it has his pace faltering for a split second. His name sounded perfect when you said it like that, as if your very vocal cords were crafted just to moan his name like that—like an angel. Bakugou gives in to the urge to moan in return, jaw falling slack. 

Your hand is delicate around his wrist, guiding him to free you from the grip he still had on your jaw to slide it downwards until he finds your throat. His fingers latch around it naturally, digging in just enough to have you gasping against his open and waiting mouth but not enough to hurt you. He can see that you enjoy it—can feel it in the way your pussy drools for him more.

The second his hand locks around your throat, everything empties from his mind. His hips move as if they were designed to fuck you, to feel your skin slap against his and to have your entire body jump with each harsh rut. Your moans vibrate against his palm, a shiver working its way down his spine whenever your moans grow louder, more desperate when he shifts his weight just enough to bully the tip of his cock against your cervix.

The hand around his wrist tightens, the tips of your nails digging into his flesh. It makes him hiss in pain, gritting his teeth to fuck you harder. His entire body glistens with sweat, dripping down along his hairline where strands of his ash blonde hair stick to his dewy skin. It pools in the hollow of his throat and builds along his biceps, which flex and bulge with the effort of keeping up his position hunched over you. 

“G’nna—” You gasp, his hand instinctively closing around your throat before relaxing. “‘M g’nna cum.”

And fuck, if he thought you whispering his given name was hot then he’s not sure where that ranks. He’s not sure why he’s never considered just how hot it would be for you to admit you were close to orgasm, to inform him that he’s doing such a good job at fucking you that you’re about to cum.

“Yeah?” He huffs in the effort of his pace, suddenly rearing back and releasing your throat in favour of shifting your position. He throws your legs over his shoulders, large hands grasping at your hips to pull you to the edge of the bed properly. “Then cum.”

With his hands lower down on your body, Bakugou’s able to free one hand from grasping at the meat of your thigh to let his thumb roll over your clit with enough pressure to have your knees turning inwards and back arching off of the bed. The moan that comes you from is angelic, a sound that has his stomach twisting in anticipation and the need to cum—but not yet, he’s going to fuck you as much as he can before he reaches his end.

He can feel you clamping down on him, squeezing the ever-loving fuck out of him to the point where his hips are forced to take shallow thrusts. But his hand doesn’t give up on your clit; he switches to his fingers to pinch and cruelly swipe at your swollen clit. Your toes curl against the back of his head, and Bakugou finds himself leaning into the feeling—needing to feel every single part of you whilst your pleasure crests.

And when you do cum, Bakugou can’t help but groan alongside you. 

“Fuuu—... That’s it, good girl.” His tone is a little breathy, his chest rising and falling with the quick breaths he has to take to keep up the pace to fuck you through your orgasm and beyond that. His hand drops away from between your thighs, sliding up to grab at your waist before moving you up along the bed whilst situating himself on top.

He tugs your legs down from his shoulders, wrapping them tightly around his waist—you move easily for him, so pliant and willing to do anything for him after he made you cum on his cock. Your thighs mould easily around the thinner part of his waist, your ankles locking naturally. 

His cock remains buried deep inside of you, still savouring the aftershock waves of pleasure that have your walls throbbing around him. Bakugou leans down into your space, with one elbow to the side of your head whilst the other latches itself onto the headboard. You meet his gaze, finally gaining back some clarity. 

“Back with me?” He grins, sharp teeth on display when he looks down at you. He wonders if you find him intimidating like this, you’ve shown you were somewhat afraid of him in the past—never stepping on his toes, or overstepping when he ordered you to stay the fuck out of his way. Part of him doesn’t want you to be afraid of him anymore, he wants to make you smile more, laugh more, moan more—

A hand caresses itself along his cheek, drawing him out of his lust-ridden mind until he finds your eyes. Your thumb drags itself along the apple of his cheek, across the corner of his lips until you press your thumb against his lips. He’s not sure what’s enthralled him exactly, maybe it’s just the look in your eye—because you’re not looking up at him like you’re afraid, but rather you’re looking up at him with something scarily close to admiration. 

Your thumb drops down from his lips and to his chin, and with the slightest of tugs you pull him down into your space. He collapses onto both of his elbows on either side of your head, his breath coming out in warm puffs against your face. He can smell you this close, a mixture of sweat and that sweet perfume Mina had bought for you. 

Again, he doesn’t fight it when you pull him that final inch. Your lips are smooth against his own, so gentle and intoxicating. You kiss him like you want to savour this, savour him. And so he lets you, he lets you savour him just as he savours you in return. His mouth pries yours open easily enough, your tongue eager to meet his own in a smooth curl.

His hips begin to move on instinct, both of his thighs spread wide so he can thrust hard and deep. Your skin slaps against his, a wet sound that has the pit of pleasure in his stomach tightening and tightening with each passing second. His balls smack against the roundness of your ass, drawing up with the urge to spill deep inside of you—but he won’t, as much as he’d love to feel your walls milk him for all he’s worth.

You’re the one who breaks the kiss off, head falling back into his pillows whilst he props himself back up over the top of you. With a better view of your body, your tits that bounce with each rut of his hips, he finds himself standing right on the precipice of his climax. His thrusts grow faster, more erratic in their strength and depth—effortlessly fucking you through your next orgasm when you open your mouth in a silent scream.

“Fu-fuck, fuck,” Bakugou pants, his stomach clenches and his balls draw up tight. He pulls back suddenly from your space, away from the intoxicating heat that radiates off of your body to pull from your pussy entirely. His hand wraps around his cock and he fists it aggressively, thumb pressing against his head before he sucks in one deep breath, only to release it in a loud groan.

His cum comes in thick waves, drawing lines up along your stomach and up along your chest. You lay there, with your legs wide open and eyes half-lidded; watching him cum all over your body. Bakugou finds his hips still thrusting with each spurt from his cock, squeezing every last drop before tapping the sticky tip against your belly button where it had mostly gathered. 

His entire body relaxes immediately, the weight of his responsibilities disappearing into nothing when he lets his mind bathe completely in that post-nut haze. You seem in the same mind, letting your legs droop at his waist and an arm coming to rest over your eyes, giving you a moment to catch your breath. 

Slipping away from you, Bakugou doesn’t bother to pick up the clothes scattered around and instead beelines it for the bathroom attached to his bedroom. He pauses by the door leading out, he can’t hear any noise—hopefully, Kirishima was still out, if not then he’s going to be up Bakugou’s ass about fucking you. 

Rummaging through a stack of towels, he finds a light and small one to wipe you down with. But as he’s about to re-enter the bedroom, he turns to see you’re standing up and looking around for your underwear.

“Where you runnin’ off to?” He gruffs, his own voice ruined from the session—he needs a drink of water, he makes a mental note. 

You look up at him, quite like the image of a deer in headlights. “Uh, well—I just thought you’d want me to… go.” 

Bakugou’s eyebrows furrow together before his eyes flit down to the ropes of cum still on your skin and he wants to ask if you planned on ruining your clothes with his cum. Instead, he shakes his head, stepping back into the dimly lit bedroom. 

“Get back in bed, let me clean you up.” He watches as you stare at him for a second more, hesitating or debating on refusing his offer. But clearly your exhaustion wins out, because you turn with a drop of the dress in your hand and climb back in his bed, careful to not drip any of his cum on the sheets. 

On the way past, he reaches down to a compartment in his wall to pull out two bottles of water. Placing them on the bedside table, he stands at the foot of the bed looking down at you. He can see you squirming under his gaze, the embarrassment starting to creep up on you but Bakugou can’t find it within himself to be embarrassed about the fact he was still completely naked. It felt good, with you.

You don’t squirm away when he wipes you clean, careful between your legs when he sees how puffy and swollen you look down there. But it still makes you flinch, a quiet gasp leaving your lips and it’s impossible to not smirk up at you before he drops the towel somewhere in the pile of abandoned clothes to be dealt with tomorrow. 

Grabbing one water bottle, he offers it to you. “Drink up, and then actually get in bed. ‘M tired as fuck.” 

He turns away when you take the bottle from him, still sporting that slightly bewildered look on your face as if you expected him to kick you to the streets—or rather, the sofa. Part of him does question why he’s letting you stay in his bed in the first place, but the idea of you going out to that shitty sofa after sex… it just doesn’t sit well in his chest.

He gives you the time to bury yourself beneath his sheets whilst he kicks the dirty clothes towards the far wall, next to the laundry basket before returning to you. You look tiny in his bed, made especially large to accommodate his height. You’re nearly lost beneath the thick sheets and mountain of pillows, it makes his lips curl into a playful smile before he crawls into bed with you. 

You shift out of the way to let him lay down, the room dimming further until you were both plunged into darkness save for the passing lights through the slatted shutters on his window. He can still make you out in the dark, with his optics shut down and eyes naturally enhanced—he can see you’re looking at him over the top of the covers, debating on if you should still make a run for it.

“Fuckin’—...” He huffs a sigh, shifting under the sheets so quickly you don’t have the time to stop him. “Stop actin’ like I’m going to bite you or some shit.”

You curve into his muscle easily enough, moulding into the shape needed to be held close. His chin rests atop your head, thick arms looped around you. It’s odd—Bakugou wasn’t a hugger, definitely not a cuddler but having you in his arms, the smooth feeling of your softer skin beneath his and the warmth that comes from your very being is comforting. 

His heart flutters in his chest when he can feel your arms slowly wrapping around him until you’re embracing him fully. You cling to him as if you were expecting him to rip you away at any given moment and ruin the moment. Has he really been that harsh to you? Sure, he’d been a bit of a dick when he first met you but you were choking out their only Ripper whilst holding a gun to their faces that’d eradicate them before they so much as blinked.

And sure, he had a tongue as sharp as a knife… fuck, maybe he was that harsh with you. He blames it lazily on the drink still in his system, despite the pestering fact in the very back of his mind that he worked most of it out of his system fucking you into his bed. It makes his head ache with the sudden rush of conflicting feelings, thoughts that clash over and over—

Forcing his eyes to shut and muscles to relax, he basks in the warmth of your much smaller body wrapped around his own and lets himself fall asleep.

You wake up feeling… warm. Not hot, nor cold. Comfortable too. The softness of the sheets around are some of the best you’ve felt in weeks, the blanket you’d been given to sleep with on the sofa was somewhat scratchy when you’d tuck it under your chin. This one is smoother, doesn’t catch on the thin intricate strips that are near-invisible to the naked eye that line your body. 

There’s a weight across your body, a leg wedged between your own and a heavy arm draped over your waist. The warmth is coming from directly behind you, a solid press of muscle that breathes steadily against the back of your head. And if you glance just enough over your shoulder, you find a head of blonde hair that’s softened after a night of sleep. 

Bakugou has himself plastered against you, completely. His face is buried into the back of your hair, and with him this close, all you can smell is him. His bed smells strongly of the aftershave he uses, and the man himself smells like your late-night activities—a musk that has your head in the clouds in remembrance. 

You’ve never felt anything like that before. Not that you can remember, anyway. Bakugou treated you more than just someone he wanted to fuck, he didn’t toss you around or disregard the fact you had to cum too to enjoy yourself—he made sure you were on the same level as pleasure as he was, if not more. He kissed you like a lover would. 

That last thought has your face heating, an odd feeling of butterflies fluttering up into your stomach until they settle in your lungs. It was ridiculous to have such a childish thought flit into your mind, Bakugou certainly wasn’t the type of man to settle down—his lifestyle didn’t fit with it.

You could tell just from the way he lived in his own home, he functioned to serve himself only—with the exception of Kirishima when he forgot breakfast. But outside of the walls of his apartment, his work lifestyle wasn’t fit for a partner in any sense of the word. He was a merc, mercs didn’t lock themselves down with someone because it was dangerous. Simple as.

Having a partner in Night City was the same as putting a target on your back. You became weak and vulnerable—something Bakugou would never let himself be. You knew that just from the weeks of living beside him. 

“What’s got you thinkin’ so hard this early?” Bakugou’s voice is deeper, raspier in the mornings… and it’s impossible to not clamp down in longing that he was still buried inside of you. 

He shifts behind you, one long deep breath in before he releases it. His muscles ease off of you when he breathes out, the weightlessness of sleep disappearing with each second. Instead, the arm that was slung over your waist grows bold in it’s movement. His large hand guides his fingers delicately over your skin, circling your belly button before meandering off until he finds your hip.

“Hm?” He nudges you with the tip of his nose, prompting you to glance over your shoulder at him. His eyes are smouldering, barely open and yet the red that stares back at you is bright. The long eyelashes you’ve never had the chance to see so clearly bat delicately against his cheekbones. 

“Nothing, sorry for waking you.” You whisper back, and his eyes automatically drift down to watch the movement of your lips. The hand at your hip kneads softly at the flesh there before it moves lower, the tips of his fingers skirting up and down along your thigh. It’s enough to draw a harsh shiver up your spine, and in turn, causes Bakugou to let out a raspy chuckle.

“Yeah?” You pick up on the playful tone in his voice, a teasing grin growing on his face. “How ‘bout you make it up to me? Hm?” 

You’re drawn to him biting on his bottom lip before his grin grows wider, watching you watch him—a back-and-forth dance to see who snaps first under the surmounting sexual tension in the room. The hand on your thigh slips down, hooking his fingers into your inner thigh to hoist your leg a little higher up on his hip. His cock is hot and hard where it presses between your thighs, the tip tapping against your clit. 

Shifting himself up onto one elbow, partially hovering over you from behind, he finds your lips with his own. The kiss starts off softer than he kissed you last night, it’s not as hurried—not yet anyway. Bakugou kisses you like he wants to savour your flavour, to save the taste of you on his tongue. He tilts his head just slightly to delve in deeper, and then prying your mouth open with his. 

His tongue is invasive, in the sense that he has to dive as deep as he can into your mouth. His tongue curls against the roof of your mouth, feels along the points of your teeth before he’s back to caressing your tongue with his own. The hand between your thighs spreads you lewdly beneath the blankets, a middle finger finding your clit before he strokes it down along your slit; wet and slippery for him.

Bakugou groans into your open mouth, before greedily going in again after the single breath he takes. This time the kiss is more energetic, more consuming. His cock twitches between your thighs, tapping against your thigh with its sticky tip. You can’t help but roll your hips back into him, push your ass out in invitation—

A loud bang in the living area has you both flinching, lips parting just enough for you to see the scowl starting to form on Bakugou’s face.

“Fuckin’ Ei. Just ignore ‘im.” His voice is harsh with desire, a low whisper that has your stomach tightening. Bakugou swoops back in, devouring your lips with more vigour, desperate to get what he wants now he knows that his roommate is awake—who knows when he’ll get a chance like this again. 

He manoeuvres you on the bed, climbing over the top of you until you’re in a similar position as last night; your thighs at his waist and his hands pressed into the sheets on either side of your head. His cock bobs again between the two of you, smearing his pre along the smooth skin of your inner thigh. His lips part from yours once again, this time to chart a path down along your jaw and neck. He bites and kisses in tandem, sucking your skin until you can feel the bruises starting to blossom there. 

Bakugou continues to consume you from the outside, pressing his hips down finally to relieve himself of the pressure building in his groin. He groans beautifully against your skin, a sound so intoxicating you can’t stop your eyes from rolling and your hands seeking purchase in his hair. It’s soft to the touch, and it doesn’t go unnoticed when you accidentally tug on it, his hips press harder against your own. Rutting his cock against your pussy.

“Shit, g’nna fuck you—”

“Yo, Bakugou!” The bedroom door opens with a loud hiss, and you can only squeak out in surprise when Bakugou all but presses you into the bed in an attempt to hide you. “I thought you said we had food in, and—... uh–...”

“Get the fuck out!” Bakugou snarls, reaching over to grab the closest thing to him on the bedside table. There’s a shift of his entire body, something flying through the air and the resounding plastic crunch of Kirishima being smacked by the poor water bottle that was launched. 

“Sorry!” Kirishima back peddles it out of the room before Bakugou can scramble to find something else to throw, the door hissing to announce that he was well and truly out of the room. 

The air is no longer thick with sexual tension, instead, there’s a lingering awkwardness that has Bakugou deflating on top of you. His face is buried into the crook of your neck, and you can feel the heavy sigh that’s pushed out of his body in acceptance that he won’t be fucking you again today. 

“He’s such a fuckin’ idiot, can’t trust him to do shit on his own.” He grumbles against you, his lips so close you can feel each word forming on them. He leans up off of you, kneeling between your legs and you try your hardest to not grow embarrassed at your nakedness on display. He looks almost sad, defeated at the fact he knows he has to go deal with the red-haired giant that’s no doubt ripping apart his kitchen looking for food.

“Sorry,” he huffs, leaning down to leave a lingering kiss on your lips before he’s up and out of bed. “You can just sleep in here if you want. I know that eyebags said you need to rest after whatever the fuck happened so—just, rest here.” 

You raise an eyebrow before realisation dawns on you; he means Shinsou. You smile at that, tucking the comforter back around you and burying yourself among the pillows. You watch as Bakugou blindly digs through his wardrobe, plucking out various clothes until he finds what he wants. 

As if sensing your eyes, he glances over his bare shoulder at you with a wicked smirk on his face before bending down to draw his boxers up his legs. “The showers just in there, feel free to use whatever's in there.” He nods with his head in the direction of the bathroom.

“Okay, thank you.” You smile at him when he turns to look at you, he looks awfully handsome like this. Half dressed, a shirt in one hand and belt loose around his waist where he still has to button up his black cargo pants. He hovers for a second, fingers curling a little tighter around his shirt and you can see his jaw working to help him spit out the words he wants to say.

Except, he’s interrupted again by another bang—one that sounds suspiciously like the microwave door being broken. Bakugou groans in annoyance, running a hand through his hair before giving you one last glance just before he leaves the room.

You’re left in silence, the outside world still asleep despite the sun rising. 

“You fucking idiot!” Bakugou yells, muffled but still loud enough that you feel like you’re in the room with him. The rest of the argument fades out into muffled voices, and soon sleep retakes you with the comforting smell of Bakugou still clouding your mind.

It isn’t until a handful of hours later that you emerge from the bedroom. It had quieted down soon after Bakugou had come out to confront Kirishima, and you managed to shower uninterrupted—you found clothes laid out on the bed for you, no doubt from Bakugou who must’ve heard the shower running at some point.

When the door hisses open, you’re met with the smell of beer and the voices of multiple people. People you’ve come to know as Shinsou, Sero and Kaminari. Of course, Bakugou and Kirishima are there too but the former is quiet as he watches the group yap about something he’s uninterested in. 

“Nah, man. I’m telling you, she was looking at me.” Kaminari whines, earning him a snort of laughter from Shinsou and a shake of a head from Sero.

“You’re delusional, she’s a doll. They don’t see a thing.” Sero snickers when Kaminari pouts at that, leaning into Kirishima’s side who mockingly consoles him for thinking he had a chance with a doll.

The name is something that most people know, it was a way for people to get away with doing whatever they wanted to another person without the repercussions. Fuck a doll and they have their memory wiped by the end of it, confess murder and they’ll just smile at you. Dolls. You’d seen plenty of advertisements for it last night whilst visiting Jig-Jig Street, the idea of a chip like that existing made you feel sick.

A call of your name has your eyes blinking, snapping out of the trance and looking towards the source. Shinsou. Immediately Sero and Kaminari flinch in realisation that you were standing right behind them on the sofa, an unwanted reminder of when you had nearly blown them to pieces no more than 48 hours ago. 

“How’re you feeling?” Shinsou asks, head tilting slightly.

“Fine, better than yesterday.” You smile back a little, eyes making their way automatically towards the ash blonde who sits with his knees apart on the opposite side of the sofa, an arm draped over the back of it and a beer can cradled in the hand on his thigh. “Still tired.”

“Even after you slept all day?” Kirishima asks next, and you make the mistake of glancing at him because he has a very knowing smug grin on his face. “Or maybe it was because you didn’t—”

“Oi, shut the fuck up.” Bakugou grunts before taking a sip of his drink, and you’re thankful for the intervention. You use the momentary distraction created by Bakugou to slip into a seat, finding the only place available between Bakugou and Shinsou—there’s a large enough gap that you know was reinforced by the blonde. 

Bakugou only offers you a sideways glance when you settle into the seat next to him, you can feel him watching you; observing to see if you had any regrets from the previous night. But you have none, not a single one. You felt… happy. You didn’t have an overwhelming sense of dread sitting on your chest, instead you felt at ease. You relax into the plushness of the sofa, indirectly sinking into the spot where Bakugou had his arm slung over the back.

The conversation has already moved on, thankfully. All four of the men engaged in the conversation, with Bakugou drinking away at his beer whilst observing the group gathered. 

“Do you remember that gig over in Watson?” Sero snorts, earning him a groan from Kirishima and a laugh from Kaminari. Sero flicks his gaze over to you, and you can see the mischief there when he realises he has an audience who haven’t heard the story.

“Hanta, don’t.” Kirishima whines, sinking into the seat with a large hand coming up to cover his face. You’ve never seen him quite like this; embarrassed. It was new, and you can’t help but smile at the idea of hearing something that would cause the giant of a man such emotions. 

“But she hasn’t heard the story!” Sero exclaims, grinning from ear to ear as he leans forward to put his beer down on the coffee table. “Alright so, we had this gig over on the Northside, up in the Watson district. It was probably one of the easiest gigs to date, a simple in-and-out steal.”

You can feel Bakugou shift next to you, and out of the corner of your eye you can see him grinning over the lip of his beer can. 

“Anyway. It was me, Denki and Ei.” He gestures to each of them in turn. “And for some reason, big Red here wanted to be the guy to do the stealth portion of the mission.”

“Don’t look at me like that, Uraraka just installed some new cyberware. She said I wouldn’t make a sound!” Kirishima huffs when you shoot him an incredulous look. A man who was over 6 ft 7 was definitely not suited for stealth work. If anything, you would’ve picked Sero—lanky, tall, light-footed.

“You’re about as heavy as a bull, you’re heavy footed as fuck Ei.” Bakugou goads, a grin on his face when Kirishima turns the glare his way. 

Sero snickers, leaning his elbows on his knees. “We were meant to just steal this van, apparently it was Maelstrom property but we needed what was in it. All Kirishima had to do was sneak in, hotwire the van and get the fuck out of there. Instead, he trips every alarm known to man and has to hightail it out of there in a van with only two wheels.” 

Bakugou offers a laugh, a genuine laugh at the memory of Kirishima returning to the hideout with a van hanging on for dear life.

“What about the time we had to eradicate that Daemon on the Net?” Kaminari snickers, which in turn has Shinsou turning his sights on him. “Shinsou popped a boner when his connection was flooded with those sex toy ads.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Shinsou growls, and you watch quietly when he lashes out at Kaminari who dares to laugh in his face. “I told you, the next time you tell someone that shit I’m—”

The conversation fades out slowly, your eyes focused on the spot in the centre of the coffee table. Daemons on the Net. Something about that sounds too familiar, would the man you saw in your own subconscious connected to the Net count as one of those daemons? Has someone injected you with something to cause a break in your cyberware? 

You can still hear his voice, calling out your name. You could still feel the shards of glass he shattered in your mind, in your soul. They were lodged so snuggly against your vital organs, pressing yet waiting to be given the order to execute. That happiness you had felt just moments ago is washed away, replaced with the reminder that you were clueless as to who that man was—clueless to who you are. 

A nudge to your foot has you blinking rapidly, glancing down to see Bakugou had knocked his foot against your own. You look at the man at your side, only to find his eyes already set on you. His hand is empty of the beer can he was drinking, and he’s staring at you like he was able to see your inner struggle. 

“C’mon.” He grunts, standing up suddenly and you have no choice but to follow after him. You follow him towards the front door of the apartment, where he suddenly turns to you with the black and orange bomber jacket you’ve grown attached to. You don’t fight him when he throws it over your shoulders, holding the arms to help you with putting it on. 

“Where you goin’?” Kirishima calls from the living area, all of the guys turning their heads to watch you adjusting the jacket on your body whilst Bakugou does the same with his own riding leather jacket.

“Out. Need more beers, figured I’ll take this one with me to save her from you guys being a bunch of freaks.” That earns him a number of groans and insults. “Shuddup, last time you were left with a girl alone, you all had to stiff leg it out of there.” 

He doesn’t wait for the next round of insults hurled his way, instead, he pushes you out of the door first before letting it shut with an audible hiss behind him. You can still faintly hear them arguing through the door but Bakugou shows no issue with the fact he probably just left his own apartment to delve into chaos. 

Bakugou leads you down the stairwell that leads to the garage, he holds the door open for you once you reach your destination and you’re met with a large parking lot. You’ve never been in here before, all the times you went out it was with Kirishima and he was adamant about walking around Night City instead of driving—he hated traffic just as much as the next person it seemed. 

You follow behind Bakugou like a lost puppy, eyes darting from car to car. All of them ranging from heavily modified or straight-up pieces of junk that should be scrapped for a few Eurodollars. When he comes to a stop at the end of the garage, a light flicks on overhead to show the sleek black motorbike you saw when you had been first introduced to Aizawa. 

Bakugou steps off to the side, rummaging around through a bio-coded locker which leaves you to investigate his motorbike a little more closely. It’s beautiful, obviously one of the pride and joys of the ash blonde. Your fingers ghost delicately along the smooth leather seat, it looks untouched—or rather, well-loved and cared for. 

You tilt your head to look down along the expensive body, eyeing the fact there wasn’t even a single scratch on it. Just how well did he care for this bike? Your eyes spot what you’re looking for; Yaiba. 

“It’s a modified Kusanagi CT-3X, if you’re wondering.” Bakugou finds himself next to you, one helmet perched atop his head and forcing the hairs down into his eyes, the other is under an arm.

“A rare Arasaka bike, right?” Bakugou nods at your words, an eyebrow arched as if he’s impressed you even knew that—to be fair, so are you. Your mind buzzes at the information you’re able to pull effortlessly from the bank of information sitting in your mind. “One of the fastest and most expensive bikes out there, how’d you get it?”

“Callin’ me cheap now?” He sneers but there’s no heat to it, he grins when you turn to look at him. He adjusts the helmet under his arm, holding it up to you so he can place it carefully over your head. “It was something I got with my first real paycheck, I always wanted one. Even as a kid when I lived in Tokyo, Yaiba had some of the best bikes out there and I just knew I wanted one.”

You smile up at him when he reveals just a slither of his past. So he wasn’t from here, it made sense. There was something about him that was never truly comfortable about being in Night City, no matter how long you live here—you’re never truly a part of the city as an outsider. Bakugou’s careful in pulling down the helmet, pressing a button on the inside before pushing down his own helmet.

“You hear me alright?” He questions, and you have to stop yourself from flinching at the voice in your ears. You nod at him, and you can hear him snicker quietly over the Bluetooth connection between the two helmets. “Alright, let’s get going before Ei comes and hunts us down.”

He slings a leg over the bike effortlessly, the entire thing bouncing on it’s suspension before he looks over at you through the small lifted gap of his visor. You hesitate for a moment, glancing from him to the seat behind him—if you can even call it that, there’s hardly any room and you’re going to be pressed up right against him. Why does that even matter when you were naked and under him this mor—

“Stop thinking and get the fuck on.” He grumbles, going as far as to reach over to grasp at your forearm to tug you forward. You have no choice but to clamber ontop of the bike behind him, your hands coming to loosely grab at the material of his leather jacket. Bakugou sighs heavily through the comms, using one hand to grasp at each of your hands individually to secure them snugly around his chest. “Hold on, this thing goes fast.”

The bike rumbles to life beneath you, Bakugou no doubt revving it on purpose to make you scoot closer to ensure you weren’t going to slip away when he put his foot down. You cling to him, your arms tucked tightly around his ribcage and head tilted so you’re not poking the front of your helmet into his back. 

Soon enough, you’re out on the road, and you’re amazed by just how easily Bakugou moves the bike with his own weight. He makes it seem effortless when he weaves in and out of traffic, how he bends easily forward forcing you to move with him so that he can pick up speed. You can only watch the world blur past, streaks of rain hardly leaving a mark against your visor from just how quickly you’re going.

You cling to Bakugou, hands grasped tightly on his stomach. You can feel each of his muscles under his shirt, they tense and hardened when he rounds corners much too quickly. He sits back up from his leaned position, forcing you backwards and tilting your head to look over his shoulder. You can see from the speedometer that he’s way above the legal speed limit, hitting a solid 150mph.

The wind and rain batter against the exposed strips of skin on your body, and your hands sting like you’ve been pelted with a million little rocks but you can’t complain too much. The rush, the adrenaline, it’s something else. You feel weightless when Bakugou expertly rounds corners or when he picks up speed along a long stretch of road, weaving between cars that beep and no doubt scream at him for being such an idiot.

“Look to your right,” he speaks into the microphone that’s connected directly to your helmet, his voice sounds calm—at peace. This was his peace, his getaway. To speed his way through a city that could kill him in the next moment. 

You do as he says, glancing to your right to see… you. It’s a clear reflection along some corporate building, you can see yourself attached to his back holding on for dear life. The city on the other side of you is bright, flickering and flashing despite the downpour of rain. You didn’t notice it when you were in the garage but Bakugou had modified his bike to light up, the inner trim of the wheels is set alight with bright neon orange lights.

In a moment of bravery, or perhaps stupidity. You let go. You can hear Bakugou over the comms shouting at you to grab ahold of him again but you feel free. Weightless. Truly weightless. You can’t hear that man's voice in your head anymore, you can only hear the howling wind and the beat of your own heart. You can’t feel that barrier in your mind, splintered and fractured, irreparable because you’re free. 

When your arms extend out at your sides, you can feel a frantic hand grab at the fabric of your jacket. Bakugou holds you in place whilst you let yourself go; to feel free, for the first time. Your heart races in your chest, the feeling like nothing you’ve ever experienced before in your life and you want to cling to this feeling, to this freedom. To the man in front of you, the one who had gifted you that freedom so easily. 

The reflection of the two of you disappears quickly, the building left behind and you can’t help but grin when you finally hear Bakugou again over the whistling wind.

“I swear to fuckin’ god, I won’t be scooping your brains off the road. Put your arms back around me!”

You laugh into the helmet, wrapping your arms once again around his body. You can still feel the tension in his back but it melts just slightly when you grasp tighter than before, holding the entirety of your body against his own. 

“You got a death wish or somethin’?!” He still growls despite you being reattached to him, and you give him another laugh that makes his shoulders sag just slightly in relaxation. “Fuckin’ idiot—...”

“Thank you for bringing me out tonight.” Your words are met with silence, your head comes to rest against the broadness of his shoulders comfortably as you watch the world pass by. The city eventually bleeds out into green, grass and trees that tower high into the sky. You’ve never been here before.

“Yeah, whatever.” Bakugou grumbles quietly, and if it wasn’t for the connection between your helmets you would’ve missed the bashfulness in his voice. “We’re nearly there so just hold on this time, dumbass.” 

You let your body move effortlessly with his, swaying from side to side when he does sharp turns around corners that would have an inexperienced rider thrown off the back of their bike. The rain has started to lessen, only a light drizzle that drenches the back of your jacket and you only squeeze tighter around the single source of warmth. 

Bakugou slows the bike down to a complete stop once he reaches the destination in mind, with a glance around you can see you’re in the middle of nowhere. There are a few houses dotted around, if you can call them that, they’re more like massive mansions. 

“C’mon, keep that on and keep quiet.” Bakugou taps your thigh to get you to climb off the bike before he follows after you. You watch him manually move his bike to hide in the shadows behind some bushes and you’re furrowing your eyebrows immediately in confusion. Just what exactly was he planning?

He tilts his head in a gesture to get you to follow, taking you off of the road and down a steep hill that leads further into the underbrush. The city is obscured by the number of trees and large shrubs, and you nearly lose sight of Bakugou when he ducks in and out of the shadows—but as you watch him, you realise he knows his way through all of this a little too well.

“You’ve been here before?” You whisper over the link, and you see Bakugou glance over his shoulder at you for a moment before returning his gaze forward.

“Yeah, been comin’ here since I first moved here. It’s the only place with some real grass.” His voice lowered down to a whisper has your stomach set alight with butterflies. You continue to wordlessly follow him until he abruptly stops, throwing a hand back to grab at your forearm before pulling you down into a crouch next to him.

You peek around his shoulder, your eyes silently activating to see what he might be seeing. Immediately you hone in on a large SUV parked up on the ridge of the road, around fifty feet in front of you. There’s four heat signatures, all of them belonging to men who are in thick armour and strapped with multiple weapons.

“Arasaka.” You whisper to Bakugou, who quietly nods his head. He doesn’t move a muscle, holding your wrist tightly in his hand as if he’s waiting for them to just look in your direction and open fire. “They’re not holding their weapons, they’re not looking for anyone.”

“The Arasaka estate is up ahead. They’re still on guard dog duty.” Bakugou supplies, causing your eyes to move away from the group of men to the estate he speaks of. You can see it much more clearly with your augmentations active, you can see the heat signatures within and the overwhelming amount of security measures in place.

There’s an indistinctive shout causing you to dart your eyes back towards the group of people only to see them piling back into the car. Bakugou visibly deflates in relief, his hand around your forearm slips down to your wrist before he’s tugging you after him. You follow lowly just behind him, mindful of each step as you grow closer and closer to the edge of the underbrush. Bakugou exits first, standing to his full height which drags you up next to him.

When you glance around, you’re silenced by the view. It’s beautiful. Night City is in the distance, so wide and yet so tightly compacted into tall skyscrapers and tall flashing neon signs. Bakugou’s hand slips away from your wrist when you take steps towards the cliff edge that looks down on the lower level of residents, you can’t take your eyes away from the city before you.

It looked so… small. So dense and yet you knew the intensity of it all from the very moment your eyes opened in that ripper’s office. Night City was a vicious beast, a machine that chewed you up and spat you back out if you weren’t strong enough to survive—but when you look at it from here, look at how insignificant the people are and how tiny the city is. It’s almost impossible to comprehend.

“I come here when I need to clear my head,” Bakugou speaks clearly next to you, having taken off his helmet and holding it beneath his arm. You follow suit and remove your own, thankful for the fresh breeze and slight drizzle against your face. You glance towards Bakugou only to see his eyes set on the city before you, absorbed in his own thoughts. “Figured you could use it too.”

“It looks so beautiful from out here, but inside… it’s—”

“One of the worst places to live. Yeah, I thought it’d be great moving here all those years ago. But I was a dumb kid with a dumb idea, and now here I am.” Bakugou huffs, running his free hand through his flattened hair to re-fluff it before settling himself down onto the ground.

You take his lead and sit next to him, putting your helmet to the side and being careful to not let it roll off the edge of the small cliff in front of you. Setting your eyes back onto the city, you feel that sense of freedom again. You were free from the city, even for just a moment, you felt like you could breathe for yourself for the first time. Your heart wasn’t pounding, your mind wasn’t racing and your skin wasn’t itching in knowing what lay beneath it all. 

“Any reason you spaced out when Dunceface started talking about Shinsou’s gig with the Net?” Bakugou inquires after a moment of silence, you turn your attention to him to find he’s leaning against his propped-up knees, head tilted in your direction. “Don’t gotta tell me shit but—”

“It just reminded me of when I was… healing.” You admit, not missing the way Bakugou visibly winces at the reminder of what put you there in the first place. “When I was in there… Something happened, and hearing Kaminari talk about Daemons—it made me think about why I can’t remember anything.”

“What, like someone’s infected your network or something?” Bakugou shifts slightly, raising his head to look at you properly with a level of concern that looks frankly terrifying on his face. He looks… worried.

“I don’t know, maybe? It’d make sense. I have this empty part of my head that I can’t access, like it’s been cut off from me or something. What if there’s a Daemon in my system? Or worse.” 

“Shinsou would’ve picked up on that. Or even Jirou, she’s the one who said you had impressive firewalls inside that head of yours.” 

A part of you wants to agree with him, because it does make sense. They would’ve found the source of whatever was wrong with you, but instead, they came out empty-handed and you, empty-headed. But you can’t shake the vision of that man, the blurred green of his eyes and then when you saw him in the street… something just wasn’t right. 

“Maybe you’re right. I just—it’s scary, y’know? Not knowing who I am.” You whisper that last part, and Bakugou’s eyes turn from concern to a shade of pity. He shifts himself closer to you, slinging a heavy arm around your shoulders to pull you in close until your head is tucked against his shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter who you were, that’s what I always told myself when I moved here. I’m not the same guy as I was back then, I found myself. I found a new purpose. That’s just what you need, a new purpose, a new life that you created yourself.” His words are mumbled from where he presses his cheek against the top of your head. 

A new purpose, a new life. That’s what you wanted. To shed yourself of whoever you may have been before all of this, before you had met Bakugou and Kirishima—before you had been let into their family even with them knowing you were capable of killing them all. Your heart aches but not in agony this time, it aches with joy. 

You wanted so much more than what this city had to offer, you wanted to find out what you liked; your favourite foods, your favourite movies, your favourite smells and also the things you hated. You wanted to live.

“I think I’d like that,” you smile, shifting your head against Bakugou’s shoulder to look up at him. He meets your gaze with a soft look on his face, an almost invisible smile on his face. “I want to see the world.”

“Yeah? The world? That’s a lot to see.” His smile grows when you laugh quietly. 

“Would you show me the world, Katsuki?” 

Bakugou is quiet at your question, his eyes flit down to your lips before they find your eyes again. He looks so beautiful this close, the different shades of red in his eyes are breathtaking. There’s so much captured in them, every emotion he feels and every thought he has flicks behind them before his eyebrows visibly relax, his body holding you closer.

He leans in, lips brushing against your own before he speaks. “I’ll show you it all.”

And when he kisses you, he kisses you softly and gently like you were to be handled with such care. It’s not love but you have a feeling that it might blossom into something like that. One day.

Before you know it, the three days of rest have come and gone. It felt like you had blinked and you were back right where you started before everything had happened in that plastic-wrapped room. But this time you had Shinsou on one side and Kaminari on the other in the back of Bakugou’s car. 

Currently, Shinsou was connected to your interface via a cable that slipped free from his wrist and fused itself into the plating on your palm. He had told you it was to relay all information that you’d need to ensure you got in there unnoticed, he loaded you with visuals of maps, layouts of their cameras and their usual patrolling routes.

Kaminari on your other side was fiddling with a hunting knife, the jagged edge was glinting in the passing street lights and every now and again it would buzz with electricity. He told you it was connected to his own chrome, he’s able to absorb electricity and pass it back through objects—something that had earned him plenty of shocks to the system that left him reeling.  

Even with the presence of Shinsou in the back of your mind offloading a multitude of data, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Bakugou who was once again in the driver's seat. He had been different in the three days since that night outside of the city. He was more open to the idea of intimacy, often opening his arms for you at night and holding you in the mornings until he had to inevitably get up.

Kirishima had noticed it too, grinning along with the back-and-forth jokes between you and Bakugou. He thankfully didn’t make a scene out of the gentle touches he absolutely caught the two of you exchanging when you assumed no one was around.

Your chest fills with those pesky butterflies, the smile on your face must look mushy because you can feel the ache in your cheeks. You felt genuinely happy, an emotion that was your own and something you were able to hold onto. You wanted to experience everything with Bakugou at your side, and no doubt Kirishima would tag along too. 

After that night out in North Oak, you had returned home to find that it was just Kirishima left and Bakugou had offhandedly said that a trip to Japan was on the table. Kirishima had leapt at the opportunity to talk about his hometown, about the different shops and restaurants there. He spoke about his country with so much love, and Bakugou had a nostalgic look on his face—so you asked if he’d take you there one day. He agreed, of course, stating it’ll be the first stop on your way to conquering the world.

Kirishima, of course, had no idea just what that meant.

“Try to keep your head clear,” Shinsou comments from the side, effectively dragging you free from your thoughts. “It’ll go more smoothly if you’re not actively trying to force me out of that brain of yours.” Your eyes drag along the cable connecting the both of you, something that could open you up in the most vulnerable of ways. 

During the three days of rest, you spent more time with Shinsou too. He had been a Netrunner for a long time, even coming from Arasaka’s very own prestigious school with the help of Aizawa funding him through the entirety of it. The rest of the crew hadn’t been so fortunate, coming from no education at all or limited from when they lived in Tokyo.

That was another thing you were curious about. People didn’t just come to Night City for fun, it was a city designed to trap you here until your inevitable death. Apparently, Shinsou had always been in NC, born and raised in Japantown but almost everyone else had tales of the way things were being run back in Japan—long story short, it was being overrun by corporations that had no regard for people who were beneath them. It was either leave or die.

“Done. Should be good to go.” Shinsou says, withdrawing the cable connected to your wrist. The information flickers through your mind rapidly, similar to how someone would graze through a filing cabinet. Everything was here, this would be a simple operation if you pulled it off correctly.

You hadn’t realised the car had drawn to a stop until Bakugou turned his head to look at you, eyebrows furrowing together as if he was trying to figure out something to say. But instead, it’s Kaminari who speaks up, slapping a hand against your thigh before he grins. 

“Ready to pull off the coolest fucking job?” You don’t miss the way Bakugou’s eyes lock onto the hand for a second too long before he meets your eyes again. All you can do is nod along, still unable to break your eyes away from Bakugou until he forces himself to look away first.

With a nod of his own head, Kaminari deems that worthy enough of a response and grins at you. His hand squeezes your thigh absentmindedly before he climbs out of the car, yelping with Bakugou grunts a command at him the second he steps out of the car.

Soon enough, you’re out of the car too whilst Kirishima ensures you have your weapon loaded and Shinsou talks over the game plan again. “You need to get to the underground levels. On the first floor, it should be primarily empty, the rest of Maelstrom will be beneath that. All you have to do is get into that room, snag a shard and leave. We’re here for backup.” 

“I’ll have to go dark when I’m inside.” You see Bakugou shift on his feet a little at that, the uneasiness of you being unable to communicate with them properly if anything was to go wrong. They all nod in agreement regardless, stepping back when you slip the handgun into its holster on your waist before shrugging off the orange jacket that Kirishima had given you all those weeks ago. Bakugou wordlessly takes it from you.

Looking at the building just across the street, it looks unassuming. A simple warehouse, but even you could see the spray tags on the walls of the Maelstrom, this was a significant base of theirs. 

Just as you’re about to step forward to begin the job, a hand grabs your elbow and you turn to see Bakugou looking at the building instead of you. “Don’t do anything reckless this time.” His eyes drift down to meet yours, the red flaring to life in his eyes for a second. “Got it, hotshot?” 

Your eyebrows raise. “Hotshot?”

“You took a pulse rifle shot—”

“Oh, you’re terrible. Really? Hotshot?” You grin at his words, it was another terrible joke he couldn’t stop himself from making. His lips twitch in a small smirk before it fades, the gravity of the situation settling on him once again. “I’ll be fine, I have you to back me up this time. Right?”

Bakugou stays silent for a moment before he nods. “Right. I’ve got your back.” He looks hesitant when you take a step backwards, his fingers that had been in contact with your elbow twitching at his side before he ultimately decides to pocket them. “Don’t play hero either, you get out of there if you have to.”

“It almost sounds like you care for me Katsuki,” his eyes widened the tiniest amount at the use of his name, no doubt a flurry of memories from just a few nights ago flitting through his mind. “But don’t worry, I’m not going to be taking bullets for anyone today. I have the world to see, remember?” 

But before Bakugou could say anything, you fade into nothing right before him. Even when his eyes flash to life, he can’t see you anywhere. His eyebrows draw together in concern, this plan felt rushed—he should be going in with you, you shouldn’t be taking this on alone. What was Aizawa thinking? A hand clapping on his shoulder draws his attention away from where you may have gone.

…Your shoulders drop once Bakugou looks away, you could see the concern on his face, painted as clear as the sky above. You couldn’t remember if you had ever done solo missions like this before—having a partner to help would’ve been nice, but you had no time to dwell on it when you started to walk towards the big warehouse. You note the multiple cameras as you pass by them, the red blinking light flickers for a moment before they’re shut down. Have you always had cyberware that could shut down electronics? 

“That was me.” Shinsou’s voice is loud in your head, as if he were speaking directly next to you. “Sorry, should’ve said something.” 

“Yeah, no shit.” You murmur back, eyes darting back and forth once you slip through the open warehouse door. There was a big truck in the centre of the room, modified with spikes and reinforced windows. Definitely Maelstrom. 

“About twenty feet in front of you, and then to the right there should be a door that will lead to the stairwell. That’s your way in.” 

You follow Shinsou’s guidance without hesitation, feet moving silently across the floor whilst your eyes dart back and forth through the dark warehouse. It was odd for it to be so empty, were they all really below ground? Surely there should be a guard— “Stop!” Shinsou all but hisses at you, your entire body freezing at the edge of a rack of crates. 

There’s movement, and your eyes dart upwards to see a drone scanning slowly. Drones? Since when did Maelstrom have the money for drones? You don’t say anything as you watch the silent drone pass by, thankfully having not detected you even through your invisibility. This could prove to be a problem if they’re using tech like that, who knows what else they have hidden. 

“There are no mentions of drones anywhere. They’re chromeheads, sure, but they always liked doing shit themselves.” Shinsou supplies once you’re moving again. Slipping into the stairwell that Shinsou had directed you to, you notice the difference in temperatures almost immediately. It’s freezing. 

“Turning off comms.” 

“Wait—” His voice cuts out immediately, something doesn’t feel right down here. It shouldn’t be so cold, it’s like stepping into an industrial freezer. Maelstrom didn’t like the cold, for one simple reason; it fucked with their cyberware. 

Freezing temperatures caused it to malfunction, which meant… it’ll fuck yours up too. You need to back out, and report what you think might be down there but—something is stopping you. Aizawa would be pissed if you back out of this with your tail between your legs, he definitely wouldn’t let you come back empty-handed either. 

With slow careful steps, you continue to descend into the freezing depths of the basement. Rounding the corner that leads to the final set of steps, you stop in your tracks. The lights are off, save for a slow, long blink of a red light. All the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, something screaming in the back of your mind to back out now. Your hand slips to the handgun on your holster, withdrawing it when you press your back to the cold concrete wall. 

You can do this. You can find out what’s in this room, slip by and find the shard. You can do this. You can. Sucking in a harsh breath, you brace your body before whipping around the corner with your gun raised but your blood runs cold, determination falling from your face and morphing into fear. “What—”

...

“What the fuck do you mean you can’t contact her?” Bakugou snarls, glaring at Shinsou who’s hunched over a laptop that was once tracking your whereabouts. 

“She said she was turning off comms, but she wasn’t even in the basement yet.” Shinsou frowns, running a hand through his unruly purple hair for a moment. “Fuck, you don’t think she…?”

“No,” Kirishima replies, leaning against the car with his eyes locked on the building in front of them. “She wouldn’t do that, not now.” 

“Should we go in?” Kaminari offers, glancing over Shinsou’s shoulder to stare at the blank map. 

Shinsou opens his mouth to talk before all heads whip towards the warehouse, their hearts thumping in their chests whilst the sound of the alarms being tripped drowns out any words any of them may have wanted to say. 

There are approximately three seconds of calm before the storm hits full force. The Maelstrom weren’t in fact in the building at all, instead hiding in the surrounding smaller buildings dotted around. Yet none of them looks at the group that is sitting staring at the scene unfolding; they’re all descending onto the warehouse. 

Onto you.

“It’s a setup,” Bakugou says, words coming out monotone as if he wasn’t quite aware of what he was saying—unaccepting of the ugly truth. “She’s been fucking set up.” 

He doesn’t hesitate. His feet move before he fully registers that he’s barreling towards what is most likely certain death, he thinks he can hear Kirishima shouting at him to stop but he can’t. You weren’t going to fucking die now after everything. 

His heart hurts from how hard it pounds against his ribcage, the rifle in his hand is light when he raises it to shoot anyone who steps foot into his path. Bakugou barrels through the open warehouse door, following the directions Shinsou had given to you no more than ten minutes ago. It seems a lot of the Maelstrom have made their way below ground, or had been shot on Bakugou’s way in.

His stomach twists uncomfortably at the thought of you being trapped beneath the ground with a gang of twenty or more descending on you with the intention of killing you. His hand itches around the rifle, fingers twitching with the urge to open fire the second he can. 

Something like true fear starts to pool into Bakugou’s stomach once he deduces that you must’ve descended the only set of stairs. The freezing fog slowly creeping up the steps is enough to make him shiver, the chrome in his body aches from the slow approaching cold. There’s no way you could be down there and still be alive, you were more metal than human than he was.

And yet still, Bakugou pushes through the veil of fear that washes over him and descends the stairs. The fog swirls and wraps around him like tendrils, tugging him further into the icy depths of the dark basement. His thumb brushes against the side of his gun, flicking it off the safety and soon a red laser helps guide him through the dense fog. 

He can’t see anything, or anyone, it does nothing to quell the horrid feeling that’s making a home in his chest. Had they already gotten to you? Kidnapped you? Did they know you were a high-priced target? The Maelstrom were no strangers to wanting to get their hands on money, they’d do anything for it.

In the darkness, Bakugou stumbles as the tip of his boot catches on something. He catches himself quickly enough, gun darting downwards and he’s unsurprised to see the remnants of one of the gang members. They already weren’t people anymore, but seeing them like this was something else. You had certainly been the one to cause such damage, but that just leads to the question – where the fuck are you? 

A hand clamps onto his shoulder, jolting the large blonde to move and reposition his gun until it was under the chin of whoever dared to sneak up on him. Just through the thickness of the fog, he’s able to see the illuminated red eyes of Kirishima staring down at him. It only soothes his heart a little, he knows Kirishima will have his back through this and for whatever is to come next. 

“You fucking big idiot, who just grabs someone in the dark?” Bakugou hisses regardless of the relief that settles into his rigid bones, his heated breath puffs out to add to the ever-growing fog that surrounds them. 

Kirishima smiles a little, albeit sheepishly and lets his hand drop from Bakugou’s shoulder. “I didn’t want to shout, who knows what’s in here.” Kirishima manages to whisper back, his eyes finally darting away from Bakugou to scour the darkness.

Bakugou can only grumble about that, Kirishima did have a point. Neither of them knew what was in there, and Bakugou couldn’t rely on his eye enhancements in the frigid cold. So he just moves, and Kirishima moves naturally along with him. 

“Do you think they got to her?” The dreaded question comes tumbling from Kirishima’s mouth.

“I fuckin’..- I don’t know.” Comes Bakugou's blunt reply, but he doesn’t mean for it to be so blunt. There’s just no other way around it, the possibility of you being taken or worse is slowly increasing. Bakugou doesn’t know what to do with the slow-building guilt in his conscience. He should’ve turned this job down for you, you were just blindly following whatever Aizawa demanded of you.

A click has both of the men freezing, Bakugou’s rifle in his hand poised and ready to fire the second the threat shows itself.

…The gun feels like a ten-tonne weight in your hand, it makes the synthetic fibres in your muscles in your body ache. But nothing is quite as heavy as the shard in your hand, it makes your stomach lurch uncomfortably to the point where your breakfast threatens to make a return. 

When you rounded the stairs and found the shard in a lone storage slot within an open cabinet, you had never wanted to run more. It wasn’t the fact it was a shard—but rather that it had your name engraved into the delicate metal. 

As soon as you had picked it up the red blinking light had turned off, the freezing air spilling from the now empty cabinet and tumbling onto the floor. You were plunged into darkness, and yet you could still see the shard as clear as day in your hand. 

However, it wasn’t just any data shard; it belonged to Militech. They were known for their ruthless advances in A.I. and other technological achievements, and the very thing in your hand with your name etched into it—you knew it could only mean trouble, whoever had dropped it off here wanted you to find it. But why? You didn’t understand, with each passing thought that involved Militech and the shard in your hand, it felt like your brain was ripping itself apart trying to recover memories that were locked behind a thick wall. 

You had to get rid of it; destroy it or make sure no one ever got their hands on it. This thing could hold countless pieces of information on the inner workings of Militech and its operations. 

“Hurry, or they’ll kill you.”

There’s a quick shuffle of footsteps coming down the steps behind you, and your fingers tighten uncomfortably around the chip. If you died here, you’d never be able to get away and ensure this thing never saw the light of day. The Maelstrom must’ve paid a pretty price for this thing, or perhaps they were keeping it safe until Militech came and picked it up. You couldn’t risk any of them getting their hands on it. 

You only had one choice. 

It’s not a painful procedure, it feels more like a tingle when the chip slides into the slot next to your own data shard on the back of your neck. But then it locks in, and it feels like you’re injected with nanites; they bite and chip away at you until they take root in your brain. They skitter and scamper across your spine, wrapping themselves around every vertebra. You can feel the way it spreads and wraps itself around your frontal lobe, squeezing until it’s too painful to bear. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, and your fingers press fruitlessly into the slot to try and pry it out of your body but it won’t release. It feels like your very soul is being warped and pressed into a mould, ripped and torn until you’re no longer a person anymore. 

The scream that tears apart your throat doesn’t sound like your own, it’s mangled and distorted—you can feel yourself fragmenting, your very skin splitting apart to rebuild itself in an attempt to save itself from the A.I. that was rapidly infecting your system. Your mind feels like it’s on fire, burning in the deepest depths of hell until finally, you feel nothing. 

Everything clicks into place, and the pain vanishes just as quickly as it had latched on. You move automatically when the first wave of Maelstrom approaches you, your handgun tossed to the side in favour of the gun embedded in your arm. It whirs to life, and you can only watch through the tinted glass of your eyes as you make your way through people as if they were nothing more than wet paper.

It all slowly comes to a lull, bodies slumped to the floor and blood sticks to your skin. It should feel cold but you feel like you’ve been locked out of your own body—everything is numb. 

It’s all so empty now, the memories you had formed over the last few months of being part of a family flicker and fade from existence. You couldn’t put a name to the faces in your mind, the voices and laughter becoming nothing but static that blinds you to the noise of approaching footsteps.

Not until it’s too late. You hear a shout, your eyes adjusting to the darkness to make out two outlines of gang members. One has a gun raised to you, the other has their hands raised to you as well yet you don’t spy a weapon. The Maelstrom weren’t known for their chrome for nothing, you suspected they had some interesting weaponry just like your own. 

Your eyes flicker, the augmentations in your eyes malfunctioning the longer you resist the command to execute all those who pose a threat to you. A warning flashes across your vision, a clear message that if you continue to resist you’re at risk of imminent death.

You raise your gun in response. There’s a presence looming just behind you, out of sight, yet you can hear a low chuckle – the familiarity of it has your blood freezing, and yet you can’t find the strength to stop yourself from acting on command for whoever was in control of the A.I.

“Put it down!” One of them yells, yet it’s muddied by the static in your ears. It sounds like they’re shouting through an old radio. “Lower your fucking weapon!” 

“They’ll kill you. Make sure you get there first.” The voice over your shoulder supplies, and you swear you can feel the puff of warm breath against your neck. There’s a soft brush of curls against your cheek when they lean just enough into your peripheral you can see green.

There are more whispers between the two of them, words you can’t make out but their momentary distraction is enough. Your arm tenses, the warning across your vision vanishes and then there’s a blinding light, it illuminates the darkness of the basement enough for you to finally make out the faces of the two men who had approached you. 

You can only blink, the familiar red and blonde hair makes your heart lurch. This all seemed so oddly familiar, a strange sense of deja vu washes over you. You expect to see one of them fall to the ground, but instead, it’s you who watches the world tilt and fall away.

You can’t move. Your limbs feel like they’re too heavy for your bones, and the cold finally starts to seep through your bones the second you make contact with the floor. 

“FUCK!” The blonde all but screams, and before you know it he’s in your face. Your body moves like a ragdoll until you’re scooped into his lap. You think you can feel the brush of his fingers against your forehead, frantically swiping away the hair that clings to your sweat-ridden skin. You can feel one of his hands move away from your face to press hard against your chest, you watch his face crumple when he realises something.

He’s speaking, rocking just slightly and the static starts to fade away until you hear him. “‘M sorry. ‘M so fucking sorry. I didn’t–I knew I shouldn’t–.” His sentences aren’t complete, broken up by the wet sobs that shake his body. His hand is wet when it comes back to your face, the smell of synthetic blood clogs your nose. 

The unnamed blonde continues to press his fingers against your face, squeezing your cheeks in an attempt to get you to respond but you can feel something now; a tug to just let go. You can only watch when the red-haired one squats down next to you as well, his mouth moves but there’s no sound.

You don’t think you have it in you to speak, to tell them something—anything, your world slowly starts to darken around you. But you hope the man cradling you knows he meant something to you; even if you can’t quite grasp the reason why. You just know that perhaps you might’ve come to love him, if you were given the chance to.

“Another disappointment.” The unknown man shrouded in a cloak of darkness watches from over the shoulders of both men who crowd you, but neither of them seems to notice him, too preoccupied with attempting to stop the rapid warmth that is spilling from your chest. The last thing you see is him shaking his head, a flash of green before there’s nothing.

. . . .

There’s a clatter on the sofa, followed by a choked sob. Bakugou rakes his hands through his hair, pushing back the long strands that fell onto his face. He side-eyes the headgear next to him; a braindance. 

It wasn’t just any braindance, it was one he had made specifically for him. They called it ‘Soulswap’, it was a walkthrough of your entire time with him, from the moment he had found you in that warehouse and up to the moment he had shot you. How it was made was something that Bakugou fought with for a while, it was morally wrong. To have someone dissect you like some high school science experiment and implant strands of your data—your memories—into something that he could watch. 

A ding on the coffee table draws his attention away from the braindance, and he swipes up his phone to see Kirishima has sent him a message.

[22:34] RED: Stop reliving it. You know that isn’t what she wanted.

Bakugou scoffs, what the fuck did Kirishima know about you? What the fuck did he know about the weight in his chest that replaced his once beating heart? He knew nothing. No one listened to him when he said that it wasn’t you at the end, that you weren’t in control. 

It was charted down to Cyberpsychosis on your unofficial death certificate. 

The uneasiness continued to eat away at Bakugou, even when he chose to ignore the onslaught of text messages from the others. It’d been this way for the last four years and it had only come to fruition now. It was hard to find someone capable enough of creating a braindance that wasn’t just a cheap way to get off or to kill someone without repercussions.

It was a delicate job, and he had finally found the guy to do it. 

Yet now he’s unsure if he should’ve gone through with it. Whilst it was all in cyberspace, he could still feel the emotions you had in your final moments. You had felt something for him, just as he had felt something for you—does feel something for you. 

Sinking back into the sofa, the world buzzes around him yet it feels like Bakugou is still stuck in that basement all those years ago. It used to take a more violent toll on his body, his modifications often becoming the victim of neglect until Kirishima forced him to keep taking the blockers to ensure he didn't spiral into psychosis. 

Bakugou’s head lulls back, staring up at the spinning fan on the ceiling. It won’t be long until Kirishima comes back and lectures him about bad habits or whatever the fuck he wanted to be on his ass for. 

“And with the renewed partnership between Militech and Lazarus, I truly believe we’ll be able to bring a stop to crime here in Night City.” 

That voice causes Bakugou to snap his head up, glaring at the television that hung from the ceiling in the centre of the room. It wasn’t often he would make TV appearances but it wasn’t unexpected. He watches the camera pan across an array of Militech drones and other tech that he can’t quite understand before it falls back onto the CEO of Militech.

Izuku Midoriya.

Midoriya has a fake smile plastered on his face, hands buried in his deep expensive pockets as he stares at the interviewer just off to the side. His verdant eyes are dull, devoid of anything lifelike. Bakugou isn’t surprised entirely by that, Izuku was… once a friend, but he betrayed him and the rest of them for a chance at fame. 

He moved to Militech and quickly overtook the company, plunging them into tech that wasn’t short of war machines. 

“Hah, yes. It is true, we have been working on a new AI that we think will definitely be capable of deterring even those inflicted by Cyberpsychosis.” 

Bakugou blinks, his attention drawn back to the screen to see Izuku laughing about whatever had been asked, something about that laugh sounds familiar – not just from when he had known Izuku but from recent memory. 

And when it slowly dawns on him, it curdles his blood and makes his stomach tense. That laughter. The voice that lacks any emotion. The world fades into nothing around him the longer he stares at Midoriya talking animatedly about something in the interview, his chest tightens more and more until it feels like his heart may just burst.

It wasn’t a case of regular Cyberpsychosis.

Izuku Midoriya was the one who triggered it. He must’ve been the one who had planted that foreign chip, he wouldn’t just hand something like that over to the Maelstrom.

“We’re proud to announce the next line of fully-developed Artificial Intelligence; Akuma. This is just one of our newly created full cyborg—”

Bakugou finds his body locking into place, muscles growing tight and stomach twisting in knots before his heart plummets down into his stomach. His eyes widened. There. Right next to Izuku is… you. But it’s not the you he knew, it’s a duplicate, one of the new cyborgs created to withstand ‘Akuma’. 

He can tell from the way you hold yourself, rigid and cold like you were just some lifeless robot. You don’t respond to the stimuli around you, staring blankly ahead. It feels like his heart is being torn apart once again, shredded in a blender until there’s nothing left but an empty void that sits in his chest.

He knows for a fact that it’s not the real you, the one he held, the one who took a bullet for him—the one he was going to take home to meet his parents. He watched you go up in flames at a pyre funeral. It was Aizawa who had suggested it. “To make sure no one gets her.” Looks like that didn’t fucking matter, did it?

…No. Izuku must’ve had your DNA stored from when you worked at Militech. You were just an experiment, all the chrome you were sporting wasn’t just because you were a Militech worker, but rather because you were one of the prototypes for Militech. From the very start, you were destined to fail—another disappointment.

Bakugou doesn’t even register that he’s already moving, swiping up the bomber jacket you wore. The pulse rifle swung over one shoulder and the door slammed shut behind him. It was time to pay his childhood friend a visit.

ALT

A Place at Your Table — Chapter 3/7

Love is a place at someone you love’s table. Bakugou Katsuki… is still looking for that place. A Pro Hero!AU where Bakugou, after enduring a decade-long crush on one Todoroki Fuyumi, meets—you.

word count: ~10,750 tags: pro hero!au, aged up characters

There’s room for an invitation there, if Katsuki wants to make it. Instead, he hedges.

click here to read on ao3

other links: spotify playlist | fic tag | chapter recipe (yakisoba~)

Oh, and Happy Birthday @andypantsx3!

Katsuki x Fem!Reader

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N: Thank you anon for the request, I hope it turned out the way you wanted! enjoy <3

Warnings: Angst to fluff, low self esteem, shy!reader, Mineta exists,fight during training (please let me know if I missed anything)

Word count: ~ 2500

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Bakugou Katsuki - Look at Me

===========================

He could feel it, the way his heart flutters, watching you heaving as you had your foot on Denki’s back with a tight hold on his arm. You’d completely immobilized him, rendering you the winner. It was your first combat training together, everyone was excited and energetic. You, however, were more nervous than anything. So when you had won in such a short amount of time, it surprised everyone. You felt your cheeks almost sizzle as heat rises in them, with everyone’s eyes on you, you thought you’d shrink to the size of an ant. You scurry off of Denki who looks at you with a wide smile, a little bit of dirt on his cheek.

“Wow Y/N! You took me by surprise there, you were amazing!” He sits up, the rest of the class coming to shower you with praise as well.

“Oh- well…I-“ You wave your hands in dismissal at the constant glory given to you, you felt like you’d pass out if you heard any more. As you’re backing away from your persisten classmates, not paying attention to what’s behind you, you felt yourself collide with something. Slowly turning to see, you’re met with Bakugou’s chest. Your whole body tenses and your head lifts to meet with his prideful gaze.

“Fight me.” He says with a self-assured smirk and dark, looming eyes. You jump and squeak, running behind Mr. Aizawa for protection. You felt like your heart was stuck in your throat as you hold onto your teacher for dear life. You knew how strong Bakugou was but the reason for your running wasn’t his menacing stare, but the way your brain kept repeating the same phase as you stood against his sturdy chest.

‘So cute!!’

The feeling of being so close to him, it was simply overwhelming! Your body had to get away before you melted before him.

“Bakugou! You’re scaring her!” Mina shouts angrily at the blonde boy, swinging her fist up and down in frustration at his aggressiveness.

“SHUT UP EXTRA!” He retaliates, stepping closer to his teacher which you’re hiding behind.

“Your training buddies have already been decided, Bakugou. Now let’s move on with the training!”

“Yes, sir!” The class shouts in unison at Aizawa’s demand. Dispersing to their places with their sparing buddies, Katsuki turns around with a “tch”. He couldn’t stop thinking about that stupid feeling in his chest, the one he felt watching you fight with your all. It was almost like when he watched All Might fight when he was younger, he’d feel such a pump of adrenaline from how awesome All Might was, but this was somehow different. He didn’t like it.

After your first interaction, the two of you generally kept a distance but you’d often find your eyes meeting, like both of you were always watching each other. You’d completely deny any time Mina or Jirou pointed out your constant stare, saying you just admired his power. They’d always give you a teasing look and giggle at your tinted face.

You had always been shy, ever since you were a kid. People have tried to help you overcome it but every time you were in front of unblinking eyes, words seemed to escape you. You would always strive to be better, but any progress was scarce and only noticed by yourself. Because of your shy personality, people felt the need to protect you, do things for you and make sure you’re okay. They always treated you like you inferior or weak, you even started to be believe that you were.

When you told people of your dream of being a hero they’d often discourage you, saying that heroes need to be brave and fearless, even your own parents tried convincing you to find another career path. It became another reason for you to fight for your dream even more, you want to prove to people, to yourself, that you don’t need protection. That you too, can save others.

So you trained, and trained and polished your quirks abilities, compensating your weaknesses. You did everything to be strong, but you still felt your brain go blank whenever someone spoke to you. All your training, meant nothing to those around you, they still thought you were weak. But when you got into UA, you felt hope fill your heart once more, they had recognized your strength, and you’d continue to show them that you were worth more than anyone bargained for.

When you first saw Bakugou, it was at the entrance exam. He had this fire in his eyes, his body never staggered, his voice never shook and his gaze never wavered. Your eyes met for a split second as he jumped over your head and exploded the robot villain you were going for. You felt your heart beat echoing through you, simply watching his unshakable movements made bravery surge through your body and for that split second his eyes met yours, you felt fearless.

To say you were relieved to see him in the classroom on the first day of school, is an understatement. While everyone coward in fear of him, you looked up to his careless attitude, he didn’t care about what others thought and you wish you were the same. The only reason for keeping your distance was to keep your heart from beating a hole in your chest and jumping out. You quickly understood you had feelings from him, but who are you to love him? You’re nowhere near as strong or brave, not to mention the other gorgeous people in class, they were all incredible but you…you were just you. To please yourself while not disturbing him, you watched him from afar and admired him from the sidelines, that was enough. You convinced yourself of that.

All the wonderful people in your class were so kind and understanding, so you made friends pretty quickly. You hung out with everyone, expect for Todoroki and Bakugou, though you would often speak with Midoriya. He’s also a bit shy, so the two of you had that in common and understood one another in that aspect. Bakugou noticed that. He noticed how the two of you grew close but he couldn’t care less.

It was at the sports festival, where you gave your all and showed the world that you were capable of being a hero, it was then he truly noticed you. After your first training session, he knew you were pretty powerful but the strength and diligence you presented during your 1-on-1 battle, it blew him away. His eyes widened as he watched you, grabbing his shirt and clutching the fabric tightly he tsked at the familiar feeling arising in his chest, it was there again. The dumb flutter of his heart, how annoying.

“Bakugou, is there anyone you like?” Denki asked teasingly. The boys of class 1a had gotten together for the sake of studying but it ended up becoming more of a chatter fest than anything.

“Tch, don’t be so stupid, dunce face.” He turned his head to look out the window of the common room of the dorms, your face creeping into the back of his mind.

“I’ve noticed you tend to watch Y/N quite a lot.” Kirishima adds, making some of the boys let out a long “ooooh”.

“She’s super pretty~!” Denki says in a dreamy way, thinking back on when you’d overpowered him during training.

“Yeah and she-“ before Mineta could utter another word, his face was engulfed by Bakugou’s hand, a small explosion going off and knocking the manlet to the ground.

“YOU DO LIKE HER!” Sero and Denki shout in unison making Bakugou’s face heat up with an unfamiliar stir in his stomach.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” He jumps at the two boys who only laugh harder. The only thing that spared their lives was Iida pulling Bakugou off of them.

After they’d all gone to bed, Katsuki couldn’t help but think about it. Had he gone and fallen for you? He covers his eyes with his forearm, sighing heavily at the fluttering in his chest. Whenever he’d lock eyes with you, you’d jump and turn away. Whenever he was close to you, you would practically run the opposite direction. Was he that scary? Did you hate him? His mind kept him up for hours, mercilessly berating him.

The next day he had dark circles under his eyes, not having gotten enough sleep because of you. He felt so sluggish and could barely focus, but when he heard he’d been paired up with you to spar, he suddenly felt a pulse of energy wash over him. Though he couldn’t tell if it was out of confidence or nervousness. Turning to get a glimpse of you, he found you already staring at him and like always, you quickly look away with a panicked look. Why?

You could look at Deku just fine, you always spoke to him, always laughing with that nerd so why not him? He felt his heart squeeze in a way that was rare for him, a painful ache that spread throughout his body.

You gulp, standing a few feet away from Katsuki whose palm already flare up with tiny explosions. Your brain focusing on how cool you think he is, but your eyes only manage to stare at his feet, not having the nerve to look him in his breathtaking eyes.

“Start!” Aizawa shouts. Bakugou wastes no time and runs right at you, jumping in the air as he winds his arm back and launching it forward with a powerful explosion erupting from his hand. You quickly dodge and counterattack with an elbow to his back, his eyes widen as he watches your movements. You had yet to look at him. Before you could activate your own quirk, he’s already charging at you again and your barely able to react but you manage to dodge him by jumping in the air and launching yourself off his back to get some distance.

“Damn it!” He shouts, hunched forwards as he stares at his hands, you watch him in shock as he trembles.

“Why won’t you look at me?!” Your shock having distracted you he’s able to land a blow, sending you flying back. Aizawa declares his victory but your mind only replays what he’d said. You struggle a bit as you stumble to your feet, Midoriya running to your side to make sure you’re okay. You give him a weak smile as he helps you get to recovery girl. The sight makes Katuki clench his fists and furrow his already tense eyebrows.

“Whatever…” He mumbles as he sits on the ground, thoughtlessly watching the rest of the class battle.

“They’re both oblivious!” Mina shouts in frustration, sitting on Kirishima’s bed as he’d gathered her, Denki, Jirou and Sero to talk about you and Bakugou. Sero gives a long sigh and closes his eyes while leaning on a wall.

“It’s true, they’re impossible to convince.” He agreed with Mina.

“Then we’ll just have to make them talk it out!” Everyone turns to look at Denki who seemed to have a plan in mind. Bakugou sighs as he makes his way to the front of Heights Alliance, looking at the text Eijiro had sent him.

‘Hey, meet me outside, I need to tell you something.’

He lets out an annoyed “tsk” as he puts his phone back in his pocket, mumbling to himself about how ‘this better be important’

But when he makes it outside, he doesn’t see Kirishima anywhere. Instead he sees the silhouette of your back under the dimly lit night sky. You’re looking up at the stars, like an idiot. Looking to the stars like they’re the most wondrous things to ever exists. You were always like that, seeing such rich beauty in small every day things, you always had something to smile about. But you never smiled at him. Bakugou’s pulled from his thoughts as he hears the entrance door lock, he shouts out an angry “OI!” As he runs to the door, banging on it, yelling at them to open it. The commotion startled you, making you turn around to see Katsuki recklessly banging and pulling on the door. You’d been tricked, hadn’t you? You knew it was odd for Mina to text you instead of barging into your room like she usually would. A panicked expression twits your features as a blush creeps onto your face, you’re alone with him now.

“B-Bakugou…” You say in a small voice, almost a whisper as you walk closer to him.

“WHAT?!” He screams at you, but your blush only grows as he looks at you.

“If you..shout like that, Mr. A-Aizawa will wake up…” Your gaze once more glued to the ground as you shyly stutter your statement.

“I-I think they’ll open up if we talk…”

“About what?!” You shrug your shoulders slightly. You knew what, but your words were stuck in your throat and you couldn’t cough them up. Not with the way he intently watches you, his eyes practically burning holes into you. The words he’d yelled during training returned to you, he’d completely misunderstood your attitude and you knew you had to do something about it.

“I’m sorry!” You say suddenly, nails digging into your palms as your hands formed tights fists. Your eyes stay lowered and your lips quivered, the beating of your heart ringing in your ears. Katsuki’s expression softens slightly, looking at you as you struggle to speak your mind, he lets go of the doors handle.

“I…I think you’re really cool…” You gulp, looking to the side as you lift your head a bit.

“And my heart…it gets excited when you’re close.” Your hand creeps to your chest, feeling your heart beating the way it does when you’re around him. Though it aches in the moment, knowing what is to come.

“I run…because I know, I’m not worthy of your attention-“ A lump in your throat begins to form, making it harder to breathe. “B-but…I like you!” You quiver as you fight the tears threatening to fall, your head hanging low again, not having the courage to look at him. Knowing how your heart will beg for his. As you sniffle, you feel a hand grabbing the sides of your face, making you look up. Within a second, your lips are met with his, in a rough and inexperienced kiss. You feel the tears forcing through and falling freely down your burning cheeks.

“You should look at me if you’re gonna confess like that, idiot.” He lets go of your face and shoves his hands in his pockets, looking away as the blush on your cheeks had spread to his. He looks at you from the corner of his eyes and his heart does that stupid thing again, because you were finally smiling at him.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N: I think this turned out really cute and I hope you think so too, thank you for reading! Requests are still open <3

Agghhhhh all I can think about is Bakugou having a newborn and wanting to let his partner get some rest cause they've been with baby almost solo all during the day for the past 2 weeks, so he brings Baby Bakugou to work with him....

IN A BABY BJORN.

And Bakugou isn't gonna care because he's stable in his mindset as a man cause we ain't got time for toxic masculinity. He knows who he is and that's a Father now and a caring partner.

Just shows up to the workplace, strapped in with a orange, green and black Bjorn because of course, 'Dynamite' . Gotta represent properly like a badass.

Newborn sleeping against his chest as he has his baby's diaper bag on his back, a backpack and not a sling shoulder bag because "I ain't trying to ware out my neck and shoulders dumbasses".

Everyone coming over to see the new addition and he tells them that if they wake up his baby he'll kill them and make sure they can't go out in the field for 2 months.

Some of the sidekicks getting a kick out of "Soft Daddy Dynamite" vs "I'll Kick Your Ass Dynamite"

Just

*screech*

Is it my baby fever acting up? I think so 🥺🙌🏻🥰🧡💚🖤❤🖤💚🧡

Bark Over Bite

(Katsuki Bakugou x Reader)

Summary: Bakugou has a run in with your Pomeranian who is a little more like him than looks alone.

Warning: Fluff

You should've known getting a stubborn headed dog would've been the end of you and your nerves. Ever since you rescued him from the pound as a puppy he'd always been getting into trouble, sure he adored you and protected you, but he was just a small ball of rage and emotion too. He barely came up to your knees so you always kept him on a harness when out walking, so how could you have lost him!?

~~

"It seems Pro Heros Red Riot and Ground Zero have arrived on scene! Hopefully they can stop this Villian before he destroys all of downtown!" The news reporter called out, standing down the street from where a Villian was attacking the city. "Let's go Shitty Hair!" Bakugou called, using his quirk to launch him over to where the Villian was. "Right behind you BakuBro!" Kirishima grinned, rushing after his friend as they engaged into the Villian. "Im getting tired of your bullshit," Bakugou exclaimed, bringing his fist down on the Villians head who was busy looking elsewhere. It brought him to the ground where he stood up dizzy, his eyes finally zoning in on the two men, "I'll always be here to fight for the injust-" the Villian cut himself off by screaming, hoping around. "Uh, what are we watching?" Kiri wondered, scratching the back of his head in confusion. "GET HIM OFF!" The Villian cried, tears falling out of his eyes pathetically as he turned and a small, blonde, and fluffy Pomeranian was biting his butt. "That's not something you see everyday," Bakugou smirked, crossing his arms as Kirishima went to take the mutt off the dude.

After the man was taken away, both Pros stared at the small dog who seemed to glare back at them. "Aw, he's kind cute." Kirishima grinned, kneeling down to pet the dog who seemed to turn his head up in annoyance, "heh, seems like he could care less about you shitty hair," "Hey that's a little harsh dude," "Just leave the mutt and let's go," Bakugou groaned, turning to leave but the dog walked infront of him and sat down, now staring them down, "eh? The hell do you want?" Bakugou snided, eyebrow raised. "Maybe he's lost, we should return him," Kirishima gushed, picking up the dog who let out a low growl at being held, let alone touched. "Why would we do that?" "Oh come on BakuBro, it's the least we could do after he beat the Villian," Kirishima waved the dog in his face, both blondes looking annoyned with one another, a glare on their face. "Whatever, if it gets rid of the dog faster," "Alright! Super manly dude!" Kirishima handed him the dog, now they were both definitely annoyed.

Kirishima looked at the dogs red and orange striped collar, an ID tag hanging with silver writing on it. "His collar says his name is Dai," "Ha, stupid name for a short stupid mutt," Bakugou cackled, but quickly yelped in pain with Dai sank his fangs into the Hero. "DUMB SHITTY ASS MUTT!" Bakugou yelled, dropping the dog who simply landed on his paws and began walking down the street. "Hey wait up small man! It's not safe for you to wander on your own!" Kirishima called, grabbing Bakugou and began to pull him after the dog. "Why do we have to chase the stupid ass mutt!?"

~~

You huffed as you searched everywhere Dai could've gone. Sitting on a bench in the park you sighed, "I knew I should've gotten the double harness," this wasn't the first time he'd gotten out, but he's never been gone this long. He usually finds his way back after a few minutes. "Dai if you come back you can have all the bell peppers you want," you promised outloud. It didn't seem to work though because your little blonde best friend didn't come running out of anywhere. You groaned, standing up and began trekking down the street, "when I find you, you're in so much trouble you little shit,"

~~

Kirishima and Bakugou peered around the corner Dai had gone, now noticing the dog had stopped and was starting at the vegetable booth that was part of the street markets, the bell peppers all Dai was looking at. "What is he doing? It's freaking me out," Bakugou mumbled, Kirishima chuckled at him. Walking over Kirishima squatted down next to the dog who seemed to just side glance him, "You like peppers? You're a strange dog you know that little man?" Dai suddenly jumped up and grabbed a bell pepper from the stand and took off running, right over Bakugous foot in the process. "Hey you little shit get back here!" Bakugou yelled, chasing after the dog while Kirishima was left to deal with the angry booth seller.

Bakugou followed Dai through the park where he finally grabbed ahold of the dog, holding him at arms length by the scruff. "Alright ya little fucker, I'm so over this. Where is your owner so I can kick their ass for letting you behave like this," he growled at the dog who growled back before Dais ears picked up, his head turning at the sound of your voice.

"Dai! Please come home!" You called, now worried something happened to him. Dai bit Bakugou on the hand making him drop Dai again who jumped through the bushes and into you, causing both of you to topple over.

Feeling something wet on your cheek you opened your eye to see Dai licking your cheek. "Dai! I'm so glad you're alright!" You cheered, picking up the tail wagging ball of fluff who barked greeting you. "Do it again and I'll get you neutered," you growled, the dog seeming to sweat drop at your change of tone. "Hey you dumb extra! If that's your shitty mutt I have a few choice words for you!" Bakugou stomped through the bushes only to freeze when your (e/c) eyes met his red ones. "Oh hello. I'm sorry, did Dai give you a hard time today?" You asked, attitude changing while standing up with Dai in your arms.

You brushed the leaves off yourself and then Dai, turning your attention to the tall blonde infront of you. "U-uh well," Bakugou stuttered out, at a loss for words. As a grown man he couldn't deny that you were gorgeous, even if you did have dirt on you from where Dai had just tackled you. "He's a little fireball, I'm sorry if he gave you trouble again, he usually comes back if he wanders off so I'm glad someone was kind enough to look after him," you giggled, walking a little closer to the pink cheeked Hero.

"Its whatever, just keep a better eye on your mutt," he growled out, turning his head away to avoid your (e/c) eyes that seemed to be staring into his soul. Your eyes trailed his figure, and you couldn't deny he was a vision. You knew there was a reason you picked Dai that day at the rescue. "Is there anyway I can repay you for looking after Dai? I mean a Hero of your status returning a dog to their owner. You deserve some type of reward," you seemed to be even closer now and Bakugou had to gulp down the saliva that seemed to pool into his mouth, trying to find words. "Well, I guess some food wouldn't hurt." He grumbled, turning to look at you who was beaming back at the Explosion Hero.

"Great! I know this awesome curry place, if that's alright?" You suggested, placing Dai on the ground with his harness back around him. "I guess that'll be alright," Bakugou agreed, you reaching forward to take his hand into yours. Your family and friends always said you were straight forward to the point.

"Follow me!" You cheered, almost pulling the two blonde males down the sidewalk. "Hey at least let me change first shitty woman!" Bakugou called out, Dai growling back at him for being rude. He latched onto Bakugou who yelled in pain, you turning around and laughing at the sight, "I see you gained his favor real quick," "GET THIS SHITTY MUTT OFF ME!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just some short fluff for my Fawns~! Let me know if you have anything specific you wanna see! I'm always looking for new material to write about!

please i need like 8 billion

im painfully attracted to hockey players.

bakugou hockey fics???

bakugou with a girlfriend who’s always sleepy. says she’s not tired but he sees her droopy eyes and thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world, her words slurring a bit as she says “m just resting my eyes”

when he sees her start to slump a little bit, going in and out of sleep, he pulls her in and she immediately cuddled against him.

bakugou with a sleepy girlfriend please i need it.

bakugou with a girlfriend who’s always sleepy. says she’s not tired but he sees her droopy eyes and thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world, her words slurring a bit as she says “m just resting my eyes”

when he sees her start to slump a little bit, going in and out of sleep, he pulls her in and she immediately cuddled against him.

bakugou with a sleepy girlfriend please i need it.

11:08 am

masterlist

A/N sorry it’s so short im trying to ease myself back into writing

“suki u have thirst trap hands rn” you’ve been staring at him on his phone for about five minutes now.

“Huh? The fuck’re thirst trap hands?” He looks up at you with fake distaste.

“Youuu knooowwww, like like when they’re all veiny and calloused! thirst trap hands!” You say scooting a little closer to him. “They’re hot, I like em.” You finish out before he gives you a sly grin.

“Do you like them or them in you?” He gives you that look, asking if this is what you’ve been trying to convey you want.

“Katsu!!”

Tags 🏷:

@trafalgar-lau @mybabekatsuki @loving-katsuki @ariavaana @melaniebakugo @keyz-writes @kuleo26 @sirensuki @theweasleysrule @asmaechan

[10:51am]

mdni

bakugou x shy!reader

masterlist

Katsuki was sitting on the bed reading as he normally did before the two of you went to sleep, however he was interrupted when you waltzed in twiddling your thumbs and looking down.

“What’s wrong, baby? Somethin happen?” He moves to take off his reading glasses and set them on the side table so he could go over to you.

“No! No stay there!” you speak almost panicked while he sets his weight back down on the fluffy mattress. “Nothings, um nothings wrong, ‘s just you’ve been busy with um work a-and i had some free time today, so I um went shopping…” You speak with your head down.

“I miss you too baby but why’re ya telling me about going to the grocery store?” Katsuki looks at you with confusion written all over his face.

“Noo,” the whine that you only made when you just wanted him to get something without having to say it. “I-I went … clothes shopping…” You say desperately trying to convey to him what you mean.

“Ah, I see” finally you thought. “Show me whacha got, pretty.” He says smiling at you.

“Um o-okay…” you step forward and make your way to the bed where you slowly climb into his lap, katsuki’s back against the headboard legs strewn out so he looks relaxed.

“Hah? Thought you were showin me your new clothes, baby? Whater you sitting here fo-” He quickly shuts up when he sees the hem of your shirt begin to rise to reveal the sexiest piece of fabric he has ever seen.

“Do you um.. do you like it, suki?” You let his hands slide up your waist to paw at your tits, feeling the intricate lace underneath his finger tips. He chuckles at your cuteness, “Do I like it? Baby, i love it. Now how bout i see the bottoms while you ride me yeah?”

TAGS 🏷:

@trafalgar-lau @mybabekatsuki @loving-katsuki @ariavaana @melaniebakugo

[11:25am]

mdni

masterlist

Thinking about how you had told Bakugou that you weren’t super into giving head because you have had so many bad experiences. And he was completely fine with it because he loved you and that stupid little thing wouldn’t define how he felt about you

However you decided that one day you wanted to try it with him, he’s not the same as the rest, a different guy, more importantly a nice guy who treats you right. And from then on out any negative thought you had about going down on him was thrown out the window.

Every time you could you were on him, asking to suck him off at random times in the day just because you wanted to feel him in your mouth.

Like this morning when you had woken up to him giving you lazy cuddles in your cozy sheets. You could feel his morning wood pressing into your stomach (bc u guys like to cuddle hugging each other) and you decided to do something about it.

Bakugou wasn’t particularly horny it was just something that happened however when you told him to lie on his back and moved to sit on all fours in between his legs he was. He watched as you peeled his basketball shorts down a little bit then his gaze went a little higher to see the shirt of his you were wearing inching up your stomach from your ass in the air. The cute little polar bear panties with a bow on the front weren’t meant to be sexy but somehow they were.

Then you went to town by far the messiest head he ever dreamed of getting. I mean hey just because you didn’t like it doesn’t mean that you weren’t good at it right? Doing this to him had given you some pleasure too whereas all the other times it was a horrible experience, but Katsuki never pushed your head down or used you like a toy, he let you have free reign because you were good and he didn’t want anything to change.

When you had first told him you didn’t like giving head he would have never thought that he would be getting it so often without having to ask. You were like an angel from heaven but he was curious as to what changed.

“Nghhh f-fuck baby you’re so fucking good. T-thought you said you didn’t like this? O-oh my god k-keep doin that.” he barely got out due to his near whimpers.

You pulled your head off his dick but continued to stroke him with fast rough paces to keep the momentum going. “I changed my mind.” You said before quickly moving to put your mouth back on him.

That’s what made the dam burst. The fact that everyone else had made it so miserable for you that you hated it but with him, you couldn’t get enough. You’d never be able to get enough.

TAGS 🏷:

@trafalgar-lau @mybabekatsuki @loving-katsuki @ariavaana

idk if this is an imagine or a headcanon

imagine being the one to show bakugou his new favorite movie.

masterlist

he’s def never been a disney guy, but by god when you showed him lady and the tramp for the first time, he was in love

it was your turn to pick the movie and you will not! let bakugou katsuki your beloved yet sometimes annoying boyfriend take that away from you

so when you got all snuggled up in bed with him, so cozy in his arms, you had the urge to watch a movie you haven’t seen in so long. lady and the tramp

at first he does fight you on it until you beeggggg him to hear the plot before he gets his panties in a twist

“a movie. about dogs. falling in love?” he’ll say. “oh but suki, it’s so cute! you just gotta give it a try i know you’ll like it! pleaaaaase suki!” and how could he say no to your adorable puppy dog eyes. “tch fine. stop looking at me like that, you already won me over, dumbass.” to which you proceed to tackle him in a hug with slurred ‘thank yous!’

he interacts with the movie as he should, gets upset when poor little lady is upset outside or when the tramp cons the zoo worker and he thinks it’s so adorable when she calls them ‘jim dear’ and ‘darling’ because that’s what she hears.

but his favorite part, is the infamous spaghetti scene. he’ll subconsciously pull you closer as he leans further towards the screen, fully engrossed in what’s happening.

he truely didn’t believe you when you said that he would like the movie. why would big strong him like this lovey dovey mushy stuff. but boy oh boy is it the cutest most, heart clenching thing he’s ever seen.

ever since he first watched it with you, he will more often than not pick that as his movie on movie nights.

and you just didn’t fight it, because even though it got repetitive for you, you loved to see his eyes light up at the cute display.

he subconsciously has a small smile on his face as he watches the film.

if you fall asleep in middle of the movie he won’t even notice. he’ll still hold you close but he is so invested in the movie (even though he knows exactly what’s going to happen) that he just can’t tear his eyes away

or if you interrupt the movie by saying something he will get kinda offended, not enough to be mad at you but he just wants to watch his favorite movie you know.

all in all we know he’s a sucker for romance and what’s cuter than puppy love? (not to mention it reminds him of the two of you. lady and the tramp.)

Only You Could

Request: I'd like something about bakugou having a crush (neutral pronouns for reader)

I really hope you enjoy it!!

bakugou x gn!reader

masterlist

wc: 1k

He had so many things to focus on, he couldn’t spend time worrying about his frivolous crush. But how could he not when you’re just so perfect.

He hated you. Katsuki Bakugou was bound for greatness, not love. Romance just wasn’t in the cards for him. Well, that’s what he tells himself at least. He’s a grown man for god's sake, he shouldn’t have all eyes on you. He’s got a goal to focus on!

But boy is it hard to focus when you’re there. The way your soft voice rings through the conference room, the way you lock eyes with him when he speaks, giving him your undivided attention. God, he feels like he can't breathe when you look up at him like that. It wouldn’t be so much of a problem if it didn’t interrupt his work, but on days like today he just wanted to curl up and die.

There were about thirty heroes sitting around the long wooden tables, police officers and government officials standing all around. And even though he hated the media spotlight, the Firey man was the one selected to give the presentation.

“The fuck?! Why me, couldn’t you do it shitty Deku?” He says in his normal harsh tone.

“I-I’m sorry Kaachan, the board wants you to do it since, you um... uh never do them...” His voice getting softer and if Bakugou wasn’t right next to him it would have been inaudible.

Now here he is trying to get this over with as soon as possible going from slide to slide, effectively and efficiently talking about the task at hand. He’s made eye contact briefly with anyone in his line of sight because, even though he doesn’t do it often, the guy’s a great public speaker. But as he makes his rounds, you're the only one he avoids. The poor man doesn’t know if he’ll be able to continue if he looks your way.

But even knowing this, Bakugou gets so engrossed in the presentation he slips up and meets your gaze. Beautiful round eyes looking at him, showing that you’re listening. He stumbles over his words for a second, before stopping completely, just gazing at you softly. But you don’t let this go on for long, assuming he’s nervous. So, to reassure him to keep going, he’s doing great, you send him quite possibly the sweetest smile he’s ever seen in his entire life.

That’s it. He tapped out. He apologizes before swiftly making his way out of the room, seemingly telling everyone he was done, the meeting was done. The action went unnoticed by everyone except the blonde’s best friend. Kirishima jogs out of the room to catch up with him before he makes it too far.

He steps in the elevator just before it closes and the larger male grumbles incoherent words under his breath, his friend's presence completely going over his head. About a thirty seconds pass of the spikey red head waving his hand in front of Bakugou’s face before he finally gets through. “Hellloooo, earth to Katsuki!” He shakes his head seemingly trying to shake the thoughts away along with it.

“What was that about man?” Kirishima speaks in his normal enthusiastic tone as Bakugou glares.

“The fuck are you talking about?” He questions faking innocence. A smirk grows on the other male’s face at the embarrassment his friend must feel.

“Oh, you know, just leaving the room when we were only like three-quarters of the way done because you made eye contact with Y/N. Oh and that little smile they gave you, how cute! They’ve got the biggest crush on you ya know. But you’re not a relationship kinda guy so not like it would matter to you.” He states facing forwards but giving a little side eye to try and see the blonde’s reaction.

“How do you know that?” He growls, taking a step closer to the other male.

The elevator dings off at his floor and as he starts to walk off, he yells, “You can totally see it in the way they look at you. You know what they say bro! The eyes are the windows to the soul!” And just as his sentence finishes out, the doors close once more, only to leave Bakugou mortified. If Kirishima could see it in you, does that mean you saw it in him? What if he was just pulling his leg? What if you didn’t see him like that?

He makes it to his stop, letting the doors open fully before stepping out and making a beeline for his office. He’s a grown man. He tells himself for the nth time this week. His schoolgirl crush wasn’t going to go anywhere and the sooner he realized that the less disappointment there would be in the future.

His phone chiming breaks him out of his thoughts as he goes to see who is bugging him. But as he reads your name, he nearly drops his phone, scrambling out of excitement that you texted him. The lovesick boy tries so hard to contain his enthusiasm when he reads your text.

You: You did so good!!! Def not like those other meetings that drone on forever and ever, anyways I just wanted to tell you good job. :)

Boy the way his heart melted and was practically dripping onto the ground.

Katsuki: No big, I'm good at everything remember.

Cockiness is seeping through his tone even through the screen. Deciding that he’s had enough of this hopeless pining he makes his first big boy move ever.

“Come on, Katsuki. You got this, how hard can asking someone out be.” He whispers to himself.

Katsuki: How about since I did so good, I take you out for a celebratory dinner?

You: Isn't that more like a reward for me? Free food and a handsome date!

Katsuki: Trust me, if you only knew ;)

You giggle at your phone, looking like a crazy person kicking your feet at your desk, squealing in excitement.

Bakugou Katsuki hated you. But only because you make him feel something he thought he never could.

I’ll Be Your Voice

bakugou x reader

masterlist

wc: 379

cw: fluff, bakugou protecting you like the guard dog bf he is

You were never good with being in the spotlight and he’ll be damned if you feel uncomfortable

This was the last place you wanted to be at the moment, but being a hero comes with being in the media. It would be fine if you weren’t so nervous about it, stumbling over your words, spacing out, sometimes it just got to be too much. Here you were sitting before a camera doing a live interview about the villain you and fellow pro, and boyfriend, Dynamight, caught a couple of days ago.

You sat there patiently waiting for it all to be over, forcing Katsuki to answer the questions while you sat there, fiddling with your hands in your lap, looking down. He’s saving you from being put on blast and having to respond, but when people watch, all they see is him not letting you talk. That is until this one incident.

“We have hardly heard anything from you miss y/h/n, how do you plan to repair all of the damage caused by the fight?” The interviewer looks expectantly at you. No one ever directly asks you questions, making it easier to leave it all to your partner, but now you feel your heart in your throat as you try to speak. Unknowingly starting to bounce your leg up and down, “W-well, um, well w-we...” You stop when you feel a hand on your leg, forcing it to come to a stop. Looking over at your boyfriend, you see the usual scowl he puts on for the public gone, eyes now soft and loving. “We are working on it.” He replies gruffly before standing up and taking his mic off.

He does yours as well, taking your shaking hand in his as he guides you up to follow him out. You try to regulate your breathing, still feeling winded, desperately trying to keep up with your fiery partner now speed walking away from the cameras. “Fuckin asshole, couldn’t he see you were uncomfortable, I oughta go back there n’ kick his ass for putting you on the spot.” He states angerly. “S’okay Suki, just wanna go home.” You curl into his chest, and he pulls you closer just holding you in the hallway. “Okay, pretty, let's go.” He places a small kiss to your lips before putting his hand on your back to lead you out.

“Then Who Should I Give My Time To?”

bakugou x reader

masterlist

imagine bakugou pushing away his feelings for you even though deep down he knows he likes you. And when his friends try to get him to admit it he is like “deny deny deny”. So one day they start flirting with you to get a rise out of him and the guy LOSES IT he pulls you out into the hallway and you’re like “um… are you okay kats?” the poor boys brain practically malfunctions at the adorable nickname you have for him. “you shouldn’t be giving guys like that attention. they don’t deserve your time…” and you’re just standing there connecting the dots. when you finally realize what’s going on you tease him to no end. “then who do i give my time to kats?” you say with mock innocence, “w-well you could” he pauses because he’s just so embarrassed. he NEVER gets embarrassed, you’re making him look weak dammit! “hmm i didn’t quite catch that? maybe someone tall, handsome, perhaps a bit of a temper? i like a guy with a little fire” you say while giggling at him breaking down. “you’re awful” he says finally getting you’re joking and that you do in fact reciprocate his feelings!! ever since that say things have been going great! he is so nice and so thoughtful, only to you tho. no one else. 🤗🤗🤗

S/o whos love language is touch

bakugou x reader

masterlist

✽ at first it was very hard for him to get used to how you would cling to him. not that he didn’t enjoy it, it was just foreign territory

✽ noticing how he reacts to touch you begin to ask permission before holding his hand, cuddling, kissing etc.

✽ once he gets used to it tho, oh boy you are never leaving this mans side. he wants to be touching you every second of every day until he drops dead

✽ the first time you kissed him it was very… unconventional. it was still new to him so he was stumbling around a bit being his usual awkward self🤗 until you showed him what to do. now he is a pro. like a realllyyyy good kisser

✽ same with cuddling too. when he’s there sleeping next to you holding you, you can conk out in seconds just by him being there. the body heat he radiates off is heavenly and he just smells so good you can’t help but want to be by him

✽ still not big on PDA tho, and you get that so if he really isn’t feeling it but still wants to touch you, he will link your pinkies together just to show he cares

✽ and the best one of all is when he puts his hand on your lower back to move you out of the way or guide you. a lot of the time it doesn’t last long but it is so much better than him telling you to “move”. He knows you love it too from the way your face flushes every time he does it

✽ overall it took him a while to get the hang of, but eventually it becomes his favorite form of affection and can’t wait to hold you every chance he gets!

can i please get a bakugou x fem!reader who is alone on valentine’s day at a bar and her toxic ex walks in and she has to pretend to be dating anyone 🥺🥺🥺

YES YES YES

More Thankful Than You Know

bakugou x reader

masterlist

wc: 770

cw: kinda hurt to comfort, protective bakugou😤, shitty ex, cursing

What else were you supposed to do when your asshole ex walked in?

To put it simply, you hated valentine's day. When you’re alone that is, which also happens to be the case today. So, as most people do when they’re lonely, you make your way to the nearest bar to drown out your sorrow. This wasn’t how you had expected to spend the love filled day, about a month ago you were still in a relationship, well that’s before you came home one night and see your asshole ex-boyfriend trying to pack up and leave with some bimbo while you were at work.

As you walk in and make a beeline for the bar seating, a sigh leaves your lips at the multitudes of people in there like a nightclub, all of which had the same idea as you. Not even thinking you just take the closest seat to you not caring who was by you. Finally, being able to order your drink and take the first swig was the best thing that had happened that week, well until you hear the familiar taunting voice. Looking at the door with wide eyes you see him, the breath leaves your lungs and you're frantically looking for an escape. He can’t see you, not here alone, not moping the way you are. Without thinking you turn to the stranger next to you finally taking in your surroundings.

The words come out all at once all blurred together in a hurried state, “Look I know you don’t know me but that guy over there was horrible to me, and he can’t know I'm here by myself or god knows what will happen. So please please pleaaase help me.” You whisper to the significantly larger male next to you. He says nothing in response and looks over your shoulder at your ex.

“Fine. But you owe me another drink.” He says in a gruff, deep voice. You spring up from your sitting place and fling yourself on him for a hug, “Oh thank you, thank you so much!” When you come to your senses you push yourself off him while muttering an apology, to which he just shrugs. “Oh, and by the way my name’s-”

“Y/N! Hey doll, what’re ya doin here?!” There it was, the dreaded moment you had been waiting for. The stranger sees the discomfort in your eyes, and he immediately puts a comforting hand on the small of your back. He had been nicer to you in two minutes than your ex had been in two years.

“Oh? What’s this doll? Had to get a rebound guy to get over me huh?” He coos in a sickly-sweet voice that just made you deflate even more. “I-I-”

“Aw, all choked up to see me too. How sweet!” The stranger could watch any longer before he stood up showing his heroic body in all its glory. You didn’t notice it before, but he was attractive, very attractive, standing at about 6’7 and a massive build, he was practically a god.

He steps in front of you in a protective manner, now towering over your ex. You see the life leave his eyes at how much larger the male is.

“What you had to get a bodyguard to protect you cause you’re so scared of me? Tch whatever have her, she’s a worthless whore anyways.” The statement makes your fists curl around the back of his shirt as tears well in your eyes.

At this point the whole bar has gone quiet at the scene, the stranger gently removes your clinging form before he roughly grips your ex by his collar and personally escorts him outside. With him screaming and kicking like a toddler with a tantrum. He throws him out the door watching him land on the hard concrete with a thud before speaking,

“If you ever so much as look at her again, your ass is mine.” Unsure of why he felt so obligated to stand up for you, he shakes the feeling, hearing the entire establishment clapping with pride for the man.

“You are a lifesaver!!! I can’t tell you how thankful I am! Um excuse me can I get another one of whatever he’s having?” You ask the bartender.

“S’no problem. S’what heroes do.” He says while sitting back down.

“H-hero?” Your voice shrinking a bit as you speak. To that he turns to smirk at you before saying, “Katsuki Bakugou, or better known as Dynamight, nice to be of service pretty.” He watches your jaw fall open as he takes the first sip of his new drink. Oh he’s gonna love having you around.

Valentine’s day Event!!

It’s started late because I have been busy but every day for the rest of February there will be a new something for Bakugou!!! Please please please feel free to give me prompts/requests, everything but smut <3 happy reading!!!

Event fics here:

Day 1: More Thankful Than You Know

Day 2: So This Is Love

Day 3: s/o who’s love language is touch

Day 4: “Then Who Should I Give My Time To?”

Day 5: I’ll Be Your Voice

S/o With Strict Parents

bakugou x fem!reader

masterlist

✽ He would be the goodest boy when he first meets your parents, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, so he needs to impress the rents

✽ He has never yelled once in front of them, in fact they think he is quite a stand-up kid.

✽ Little do they know he sneaks into your room most nights... and gets away with it

✽ You like to go to his house more than being at yours, but it isn't always like that, a lot of the time he is forced over there. Not that he minds, anything to spend time with you

✽ If your parents are in a good mood, then you can go up to your room to hang out but often it's just the two of you in the living room watching something.

✽ Your parents are actually good friends with bakugous parents so they are aware how gruff the boy can be but are proud he contains it for their sake.

✽ One time, you were at his house up in his room just... making out with each other when his mom walked in

“Get out, Hag!” He yelled and threw a pillow but before it could make contact with her the door was shut. “I'm sorry! How was I supposed to know!” You hear her say as she walks back down the stairs. You and Katsuki just sit there dumbfounded thinking about the worst that could happen.

✽ You two were TERRIFIED she would tell your parents. Sure, it's normal teenage activities but you still imagined the worst (She did not, she likes you and wants you to stick around, and if telling them made you and Katsuki break up then no.

✽ He had to ask your parents for permission the very first time he asked you out even though he was already so close with your family. Let me tell you, when they told him they’d think about it you begged and begged them to let you go

✽ If you do any sort of sport or extracurricular, he will go to watch and sit next to your parents (when he very well didn’t have to) just so they’d like him more

✽ Overall, even though he is rough around the edges, your parents see how you bring out the best in him and him you

Everlong

Song link

Bakugou x fem!reader

masterlist

wc: 300 something

cw: angst, fighting {bakugou is mean :(},cursing, suggestive, innuendos, happy ending, all characters are aged up.

Sometimes you fight, and it might seem like you hate each other. But even through all the hurt, the love you share triumphs the hate.

Katsuki follows you around your shared apartment, angerly stomping behind you, flailing his arms around as you fight.

The two of you had just gotten back from a trip to the grocery store about half an hour ago, when he decided to have a hissy fit about some guy.

“How can you be so fucking dense?! He was hitting on you, y/n, and you did nothing about it, just stood there like you’re some bimbo trying to get picked up.” His voice carrying through the living room, making you turn around immediately.

“Are you kidding me, Katsuki!” Ouch. The use of his full name forces him stop in his tracks, no more lovey dovey nicknames in place of his given one. “He was asking me where the cereal aisle was, not exactly trying to take me in the middle of the store! You need to stop being so jealous!” You yell back at him.

“You need to stop being so oblivious, I can't always be the one to pull you out when you're in trouble!” He seethes.

“And you need to learn to control your temper!” You scream back, out of breath, and headache forming from all the yelling. And with that he walks straight out of the apartment leaving you there to process what had just happened. Before your anger could set in further, Katsuki busts through the door and pulls you into a searing kiss. Eventually the two of you fell into a rhythm, mouths moving in synch to get more of each other. He moves his hands down your waist before finding a resting place on your ass. Your hands go to wrap around his neck pulling him impossibly closer.

Not long after he mutters a “Jump.” to which you comply, wrapping your legs around his built frame as he continues to kiss you.

By the end of it all, you were back where you should be; his arms draped around you in a comfortable silence and your worn-out bodies lulling each other to sleep.

~Navigation~

Hi i’m amelia, welcome to my page🤗!

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^^ I will only write for bakugou (sorry). I mostly write fluff (because it’s what i enjoy reading) but if you ask for angst or something of a sort i will try my very best! :)

!!!!also in all of my stuff bakugou and reader are aged up unless specified otherwise!!!!

Sound It Out

bakugou x barista!fem!reader

masterlist

wc: 631

cw: fluff, short

Bakugou makes his daily trip to the nearest coffee shop, but today there is a new barista, who just can’t get his name right.

Bakugou starts to head down to his favorite coffee spot after his morning workout, and when he finally reaches the doors and exhausted sigh leaves his lips. He heads up to the counter ready to say his daily order only to find that when he looks up, it’s someone new. Her hair covering her eyes a bit as it drapes over her shoulder while she writes. He grunts a bit to grab her attention and when she looks up at him with shining e/c eyes, he almost chokes on his spit.

“What can I get you?” You say with a wide smile on your face, I mean it wasn’t all that often that you saw someone as attractive as him.

“Tall black coffee, hot. Please,” He utters the last part quieter than the rest.

“Sure thing! Can I get a name for the order?” You look up at him expectantly, waiting for his response.

“Katsuki.” He says before he pays for the drink watching you write on the cup. You feel his eyes on you the entire time you’re making his drink, not daring to look back at him. Walking back over to the counter you hand him the cup before wishing him a nice day, to which he just nods.

As Bakugou takes the first sip of the coffee he is taken aback, for a newbie you sure knew your shit. While the coffee was still to his lips he glances down at the cup, eyeing your handwriting. It was neat but there was one thing wrong, you had spelled his name wrong. Looking at it more clearly to confirm his suspicion, there it was “katski” His eyes were blown wide looking distastefully at the styrofoam container. How could you have gotten it wrong, it was so easy, he had nothing but good thoughts about you, until now that is. But deciding that everyone makes mistakes, Bakugou forgives you. Just this once.

Just this once turned into everyday for the next two weeks. You had come to look forward to his daily visits, standing at the counter awaiting the tall, built, blonde. Bakugou still hasn’t corrected you on his name, in fact he’s come to find it endearing, kind of like a nickname no one else calls him. So when he waltzes in one day, workout tee clinging to his muscles, you can’t help but stare. He notices your wandering eyes and continues to stride up to you.

“The usual.” Bakugou says leaning on the counter closer to you, so close you can practically smell him, even when sweaty he still smells sweet.

“On it,” You say barely above a whisper. Once you’d finished making it you go to write his name on the cup. Watching your hand write he speaks, “You know,” You stop halfway to look up at him, “ You’ve been spelling it wrong,” Your eyes widen as your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“O-oh i’m sorry,” You mutter looking down at your shoes.

“It’s not that hard y’know, ya could sound it out, it’s so easy,” amusement lingered in his eyes as he teases you. “Gimme your hand.” He demands while you set the drink down and give him your hand. “Pen too, c’mon” He beckons you to give him the writing utensil with impatience.

“Kat-su-ki, see how simple it is,” he glances down at your name tag before finishing, “Y/n” You nod up at him and he continues writing. Whipping your head down in confusion and see a jumble of numbers following his name.

“Feel free to call me if you forget how to spell it again, or,” he pauses to look you in the eye, “if you just wanna have dinner or something.” Bakugou leaves you with a smirk and your jaw on the floor, but not before closing the hand he wrote in and bidding you farewell. Your co-workers watch in shock and you just continue to watch him walk away.