sypnosis: bakugou has his own way of bullying the reader.
warning(s) &tag(s):dumbification, bimbofication, degradation, spitting, unprotected sex, breeding, dacryphillia, cursing, rough sex, airhead!reader, katsuki is so mean :(
pairing(s):bakugou katsuki x reader
word count: 2.6k
Katsuki has just about fucking had it with you today. Bopping around the entire campus like you owned the damn place in a sorry excuse for a skirt that was so short it blatantly was violating the dress code handbook given to all students at orientation. Surely if you bent over your panties would be on full display to every lucky soul standing behind you. But you didn’t give that much thought when you purchased it, you never give anything much thought, do you? You thought the piece of clothing would go perfectly in your wardrobe.
Katsuki was certain that there was not one thought of substance floating in that pretty little head of yours. He watched in spite as you mindlessly sucked on a cherry lollipop while you drew little doodles in the corner of your paper. You had an over the top pink and fuzzy pen that seemingly summed up your personality pretty well. The gloss on your lips still pristine as your plump lips continued to wrap around the candy.
Your eyes lifted from your notebook momentarily to examine the classroom briefly. The boredum was prominent on your facial features and reflected in your slightly slouched shoulder posture. That was until you locked eyes with a certain spiky haired redhead. A smile spread wide across your plump lips causing the redhead to return the gesture. You mindlessly set down your pen and your hand found its way to the ends of your hair twirling a few strands around your pointer finger. This isn’t a new thing for you either, you always seemed to have new arm candy every week.
Katsuki’s blood boiled as he watched you giggle and make googly-eyes at Kirishima so shamelessly in the middle of class. Come to think of it, you’ve been all over the redhead recently, and it didn’t sit right with Katsuki at all. To put it simply: he was jealous, but he’d never admit that. Maybe he does go about his interest a little unorthodox, but he does have feelings for you nonetheless.
songs they canonically would send you if they were interested (horikoshi approved)
izuku midoriya— be your man; H 3 F
he’s such a cutie, such a sweetheart. he says it reminds him of you, and then proceeds to send about fifty texts following before you can even respond (“i mean not romantic!! as friends!!” “unless you’d mean romantic” “but i’m not saying that!” “blech icky” “NOT SAYING YOUR EHICKY” “NO” “OKAY SORRY JUST IGNORE THIS HAHA(´⊙ω⊙`)”). he absolutely clearly means it in a romantic way, for someone who’s keeping the secret of the number one hero he is a bad mf liar.
runner up: japanese denim. he likes love songs, he thinks they’re kind and anything he hears that’s the slightest bit about love he’s gonna associate w you
katsuki bakugo— bitches; mindless self indulgence
he wants you to be bitches? he wants u to love him cos u know that he can rock?!!!!?!!!?!?! that he can rhyme?! that he can fuck?!!!! THAT HES ON TIME?! plain and simple. he does not say this reminds you of him, he does not link it with you in any way. he just randomly sends it (if even).
if you were really lucky he’d send you love me dead by ludo.
denki kaminari— natalie; HUNNY
he tells you to ignore the name, of course, (unless your name is natalie lol) but the whole rest of it is absolutely applicable. he’s very upfront about it. is acting a lot more reassured than he is but he’s literally about to shit himself he wants you so bad bro. he practiced ways to tell you it wasn’t for you / “he didn’t mean it like that, man” before he sent it to you just incase you rejected him lol.
right after you two confess he sends you teenage dirtbag by wheatus and says “fr felt it when they said whatever it was they said, anyway u free tmrw?!”
eijiro kirishima— someone to you; banners
ew this is so cliche. this man would be so cheesy, especially in the preemptive stages of a relationship. if he wants you, you know (i mean maybe not, he’s nice to a lot of people, but he clearly cares about you). he’s on brand fr, but he really, genuinely blares this shit at full volume in his earbuds and headbangs. this is fr how he feels…. he probably wouldn’t panic sending it, he doesn’t think it’s a big confession, he just thinks about you when he hears it so he wants to share.
a kiss; THE DRIVER ERA. his main reason for this one is “just the vibes man!!” he selectively pays attention to lyrics
hanta sero— love is only a feeling; joey bada$$
he’s corny and very transparent about it. he sends it to you like three days before he asks you out. he’s pretty confident, but he types and deletes ‘i’ve got a song that makes me think of you’ about five times before he sends it. i think he listens to a lot of music, but rnb and rnb rap are probably his romantic go to’s in my mind.
alternatively: me and your mama; childish gambino
shoto todoroki— on an evening in roma (sott’er celo de roma)- remastered; dean martin
idk i feel like he listens to a lot of really old pretentious shit. he likes the music, it helps him stay calm, it makes him feel warm. he thinks the instruments are nice when they swell just right, and he wants to share that with you. he has also definitely offered to take you on a trip w his dads money (i hate fanon characters but i absolutely thrive off the idea that shoto buys his s/o shit w his dads money)
also a high chance hed send scene one— james dean & audrey hepburn; sleeping with sirens and that makes me sick to my stomach it’s so cheesy. he’s not like a coward and once he figured out he had feelings for you, he’d be pretty blunt about it.
neito monoma— star killer; bear ghost
if you ask why it makes him think about you he’s gonna say some arrogant shit about how you want him. but actually this is a really good song and he for sure sings it in his bathroom mirror and checks himself out. how humiliating. idk what to say other than listen to it
alternatively: the ballad of big poppa and diamond girl; cobra starship. this song screams neito to me, if i could dance w him to this song life would actually be okay? the only reason i didn’t put it as the main is because i didn’t know if it was projecting, anyway THIS.
hitoshi shinsou— k; cigarettes after sex
this would lowkey be embarrassing for him tbh. this song feels so personal and intimate, if someone you weren’t dating said this reminded you of them, youd have to be really into them for it to not weird you out. however luckily you are really into him. he knows his point is gonna come across, and he’s confident behind it. he sent it as a way to say hey mf im into you, i know you’re into me
compass; the neighbourhood. he kinda listens to teenage girl music, he’s going through that phase. this song is so cute tho!! he’s kinda doting in a weird way, it’s sweet.
happy birthday to my love. latest in this series here
—whenever one of you is listening to music, you always share earbuds (or at least offer). you have a shit ton of playlists for situations (bus rides with loser, people in class won’t stfu and we have to act like we care¿?, bored asf) etc. it’s also customary for you to have at least one song rec for each other a day.
—bro this motherfucker has bit you before? how odd.
—he really, really loves to talk. so no matter how talkative or how quiet you are, you two are constantly interrupting each other and it always makes him laugh.
—denki has no idea what to do when it comes to relationships. not one thought is running through that mans head and it shows. when you two first get together, he has genuinely no idea what to say. he’s smooth and casual when he’s not thinking about it, but the second he processes the fact he’s your boyfriend and he’s supposed to be boy friendly, he’s clueless.
—he literally quotes romance movies to try to sound cool. it’s so bad. he sounds awful. it’s horrible. it’s ugly. please, kaminari, i’m begging you. be quiet. it’s kinda cute tho tbfh
—also! he gets so flustered. he would never show you but like when you send a text that’s even remotely romantic he’s done for. that one video of the girl holding her phone to her chest and kicking the bed? that’s him tbh
—after every fight, near miss, or villain encounter all he ever wants to do is spend time with you. even if you’re both just sitting there silently, it calms him down so much.
—speaking of, he freaks out really easily. and he finds so much comfort in you. and he wants to do the same for you. he has a list of things he knows make you feel better. be like that for him or ur a fucking loser
—you’re a big motivator in his training. after all the shit he’s seen, he’s got a lot of valid fear and trauma. so he doesn’t want you to ever have to go through that type of thing, even if you were training to be a hero. he wants to be able to protect you, so he pushes himself super hard to learn how to channel his electricity.
—did you know kaminari skateboards? well, he does! and he is itching to teach you. you two love to go to this little park at night, only lit by street lights and the city. his hands are on your waist as you wobble on the board and he’s laughing at you. teaches you about footing and all the terms (“i’m not gonna be dating anyone who stands goofy, you hear me?” clearly he doesn’t actually give a shit.). once you’re pretty good, he buys you a board as a gift.
—denki is a pretty chill dude. he doesn’t get offended much and when he does he’s never really angry about it. but if someone even looks at you wrong he’s laughing almost politely and flicking his wrist back and commenting some snarky insult about that person not really to them but definitely loud enough for them to hear.
—he sneaks into your room every night to fall asleep with you. you fake being annoyed when he comes in and runs his mouth for fifteen minutes, but you don’t actually care. kaminari sleeps with his head covered in pillows, so i imagine he shoves his head into your neck or back, and wraps his arm completely around you once he actually falls asleep. very cuddly dude. once you complained about how it was too hot at night because of him, and instead of letting up he bought you a 75 dollar desk top power fan and told you problem solved.
—movie nights every thursday. you tried to argue it should be saturday for months, talking about sleep schedules and responsibilities the next morning but he does not care. it’s thursday’s, you will enjoy it. srz
—he unironically wants you guys to get one of those big shirts you can both wear. every time a birthday or holiday or anniversary comes up and you ask what he wants, he tells you that shirt. he begs for you to wear one with him. one time he was sobbing over something completely irrelevant and you asked him if there was anything that would make him feel better and through tears he said “big couple shirt” and cried harder when you said no.
—he wakes you up with a shitty pickup line every single morning. sometimes he looks them up, sometimes he makes up shitty ones specific to you.
—you two have matching bracelets. you made them together one night, he bought a bunch of beads and shit and insisted that you make them. he made yours, you made his. so yea basically you walk around with a shitty yellow and black bracelet that says denki (self projecting as i literally wear that bracelet right now)
—no matter where he is, he always makes sure a spot next to him is available for you, just incase you show up. he wants you to feel included and even if he’s silent about it, he makes sure you’re always comfortable.
—he makes you recreate funny couples photos all the time. like the reaction meme looking ones. his favorite (which is also his lock screen and his profile picture) is the one with that couple making out on the fence and the girls holding the guy up lol. also loves to take really uncomfortable ones that look like posed white people family photos and you’re both just doing thumbs up and standing too far away from each other.
—y’all are so funny for real. like constantly laughing, always having fun, just so comfortable?? such a good relationship i’m ngl would die for it
—he gets a star projector and makes you stare at it with him for hours. for the first thirty minutes he aggressively shushes you if you try to say anything. loves it.
—he’s really good at balancing being a good friend / conversationalist / person to be around and being affectionate. he’s pretty good at gauging what you need when you need it. he’s such a good boyfriend yea <33
A/N: so excited to be a part of the underground’s “underground” collab! i was happy to get a chance to write something like this as i’ve been itching for a good ol’ fashioned fight au! hope you all enjoy <3 this is my baby and i punched it out in under three hours lol
CHARACTER PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x F!Reader
WORD COUNT:6,158
WARNINGS: lots of blood, fighting, swearing, some quick sex scenes, toxic relationship, toxic reader?? maybe??, no real happy ending + open ending
SYNOPSIS: some questionable decisions brings a mysterious man in your life. how much do you really know about him?
want to wade through the depths of the underground a bit more? Click HERE!
the multicolored lights danced around your body, illuminating you in an ethereal glow. your frame swayed to the beat of the music, letting the notes carry you through all your stress and worries. after a long week at work, it was time to unwind and relax. your friends had found this private, underground club only a few weeks prior and had been begging you to come. you had relented only when your workload had eased up enough for you to not feel guilty spending time away from your house. clubbing wasn’t your thing but after a couple of drinks, you felt loose enough to forget why you ever hated it. your head may hurt you in the morning but for now, you threw your arms up in the air, skin sticking to skin as you jumped to the sounds around you.
after a few more songs and one more drink that half spilled down your chin, you shimmied your way out of the throng of people and eyed the crowd from the sidelines. the chilly air and slight breeze instantly cooled your sweaty body. swaying on your feet, you pressed your hand against the concrete pillar next to you, accidentally touching hands with a guy who looked less than enthused to be there. half-heartedly apologizing, you moved your to wipe the salty liquid from your forehead, turning to look at the guy who stood on the other side of you. his blonde hair was sticking to his forehead, sweat sheening off his body, muscles prominent as he used the column for balance. he seemed to be swaying on his feet and upon closer inspection, what you thought was face paint was actually blood splattering his face, rivulets running down his neck and pooling at the collar of his wife beater.
“uh, hey man, are you okay?” you asked, not sure if you wanted to get involved but feeling like you needed to anyways.
“‘m fine,” he replied, not even bothering to glance your way.
you were content to give it up at that until you looked at him again and noticed his face was turning white, his hand gripping onto the concrete like his life depended on it, which you were sure in the moment it probably did. with a disgruntled huff, you shuffled your petite frame underneath his arm, propping him up to the best of your ability. his red eyes shot to yours and then closed quickly, as if that movement alone made him sick.
“alright dude, while i typically would mind bringing a guy home the first time i met him, i think i need to make an exception for you.”
“what are you talking about?” he choked out, eyes still closed, his body finally starting to lean against you, his muscles straining under the tension of trying to keep himself upright.
“c’mon, let’s get you out of here. and please don’t be some sort of ax murderer. i’m not in the mood to deal with that. i’ve had a shitty week and while i’ve enjoyed the past few hours here, i think half of my friends are too drunk to understand what’s going on and the other half have been trying to herd them out of here so i think that’s my cue to leave too. even if they didn’t want to leave, i think i’d leave anyways. ya know, clubs were never my thing. this one time…”
you continued to ramble as you led the brooding and bleeding man out into the cool night air, talking more to yourself than him, amused as he let out noncommittal grunts on your very prominent pauses. you weren’t sure if he knew what was going on, if he was coherent and understood that you were a stranger taking him away but you were glad you could help and only hoped that he wouldn’t steal all your shit and disappear in the middle of the night or worse, strangle you in your sleep. with the way your life was going, both of those options seemed plausible, but something about leaving a man bleeding out on the outskirts of a seedy dance floor didn’t sit right in your stomach, so you trudged on, shoving his body into a cab before crawling in next to him, flashing an apologetic smile to the driver. you tipped heavily as you hauled your handsome stranger out of the car, frowning as you noticed that he smeared blood all over the back of your white shirt, his hands gripping it firmly as he tried to find purchase in the dimly lit night.
it took all of fifteen minutes to coax him up one flight of stairs, heaving with all your might as you took it one step at a time. once he was at your door, he collapsed against it, smearing blood against the wood. you took the time to really pay attention to his wounds and sighed, wondering what you got yourself into and why you didn’t just take him to the hospital like a normal person would. clearly, this guy wasn’t okay and needed serious medical attention, but the second you brought it up to him, he glared at you, asking you if you were stupid for even suggesting something like that.
at least he can still hear, understand, and speak, so i guess he can’t be too bad.
you muttered back at him, half-assed insults about his porcupine hair and bad attitude, but still pulled him back up and through your door.
“you’re sleeping on the couch, if you can make it there. and for the love of god, please try to keep the blood to a minimum.”
“tch, like i can help that when i’m bleeding from… well… everywhere,” he grumbled back, practically crawling to the couch before lifting himself unceremoniously onto the cushions. you winced as you saw blood smudge all over the leather before resigning with a sigh. you’d either spend time scrubbing your couch or toss it and hope a work bonus came soon enough to get a new one.
“i’m going to get you some supplies. don’t go anywhere,” you ordered, shuffling into your bathroom to dig the giant first aid kit out from the back of your closest, a nearly forgotten first apartment gift.
a minute later, you snuck back into the living room, setting the large tote loudly on the coffee table. the man, who you realized never introduced himself, was half asleep on your couch. you smacked his knee and reeled your head back as his fist came flying towards you.
“jeez dude, i bring you back to my place to help you and the first thing you do is try to hit me? very rude and unmanly.”
“you sound like a mix of my mom and my best friend, which is not a good combination. and who goes around hitting people without expecting to be hit back?” he retorted, leaning forward to examine what you had brought out.
“bring some water and a washcloth,” he ordered, beginning to dig into your first aid kit like he knew what he was doing.
normally, you would argue, but you had made about a million and one questionable decisions today and were too tired to think. a quick trip to the kitchen and you had a cup of warm water in one hand and a barely used dish towel in the other.
he took them with a grunt, perhaps his form of thanks, before taking the mirror out of the kit and examining himself, dabbing the cloth in the water and wiping the blood away from his face and neck. he seemed much more alert and awake when he had a job, something to focus on, so you sat down on the coffee table in front of him, watching him work as he carefully cleaned his wounds, not even wincing as he wiped alcohol pads over the various cuts and scrapes.
“are you just gonna sit there and stare at me?” he asked finally, looking up with cautious yet curious eyes.
“this is kinda fascinating and i’m also a bit terrified and also exhausted so yeah, i’m just going to space out here while you do your thing. mind telling me your name so i don’t have to keep referring to you as “bloody man” in my mind?”
“Bakugou.”
you hummed, replying with your own name before settling back into a strange yet somehow comfortable silence. when he was done bandaging himself, you threw the cloth in the dirty clothes bin and then thought again, tossing it in the trash, the cup discarded in the sink.
“didn’t anyone ever tell you to not let strangers in your house?” he asked as soon as you returned. though the words sounded menacing, they held a pinch of concern and a lot of exhaustion.
“with the week i’ve had, i wouldn’t even be surprised if something bad happened from my decision to bring you here but when you see a guy about to pass out, bloody and confused, in a creepy, underground club, you assume that nobody is going to help him and that he really has nowhere to turn. so why the hell not, be my guest for the night, and if you don’t steal anything or kill me, i consider that a win. i don’t want to know what got you in this predicament, just reassurance that you’ll be okay.”
“aw darling, we just met and you’re already concerned about me?” he cooed, leaning forward even more until your faces were inches apart.
you would usually be flustered but the incredulous night you had paired with the drinks flowing through your veins had you only chuckling.
“i have a savior complex. i want to be a hero and do something good for someone for once. it’s less about helping you and more about helping me feel good about myself.”
“well, at least you’re honest sweetheart. ‘m not gonna kill ya or steal anything. you’re real fucking weird for bringing me here but a couch to crash on is something i won’t pass up so as long as you don’t have any sort of creepy agenda or plans, i’ll take it, no matter your real reason for bringing me here.”
you chuckled again before moving to the other side of the couch, throwing a couple of blankets his way and bidding him a goodnight. he responded with a wave, immediately passing out moments after he had settled down. you spent only a few minutes getting ready, brushing your teeth, going to the bathroom, throwing on modest sleeping attire in case he tried anything odd and then promptly passed out yourself.
when you woke up the next morning, there was a bottle of medicine next to you with a glass of water, a simple thanks written on the back of a takeout menu. you shrugged, mildly disappointed Bakugou didn’t stick around but thankful that you had gotten a chance to experience something so wild to begin with. your life had been very boring and stressful lately and any chance, weird or not, to feel something, you took without hesitation.
when you had finally gotten ready for the day, you prepared yourself for the worst: something stolen, the apartment in disarray, a mass murderer secretely hiding under your couch, but you were mildly surprised to find the first aid kit packed neatly on your coffee table, blankets folded and thrown over the back of the couch, the only indication someone had been there being the blood stains all over the leather. with a shrug, you resigned yourself to a quick breakfast and a trip to the store to see if any couches may fit your budget and your modest sized apartment.
just as you were able to leave, you heard a firm and sharp knock on the door. your jaw clenched, headache coming back full force at the loud noise, before rolling your shoulders back and opening the door. your head cocked to the side as you saw a few men, smiles plastered on their faces as they held a clipboard out to you, asking to confirm your name and address.
“what’s this for?” you asked suspiciously, hand clenching the door as you glanced next to you to make sure your baseball bat was there, just in case.
“Mr. Bakugou has ordered a new couch for you. we’ll be taking the, uh, soiled one out and replacing it with this new one. just need a quick signature and we can be in and out of your hair in minutes,” the kind man explained, holding the clipboard up to you once more. you signed wearily, making sure to read over every single line on the paper. the second you handed the paper back to him, you opened the door and invited the men in. within ten minutes, they had your bloody couch out and a new, much nicer leather couch, one without cracks in the seat, sat in your living room. you thanked the men and attempted to tip them but they shook their heads, promising that Bakugou took care of everything, tipping their hats before shutting the door behind them with a wave.
you sat, dumbfounded, before reading over the receipt of purchase they had left you, flipping it over to see a single number written on the back. a laugh left your lips as you stared at the number, wasting no time to send a thank you text which was met with a simple you’re welcome.
for days after that, you pestered Bakugou, trying to figure out who he was or what he did, learning plenty about his childhood, his friends and what he liked to do for fun but little about his actual life. he was surprisingly responsive, though he had attitude, as if your questions were a bother, but you knew better. he was relishing in the attention and you were relishing in the newness and mystery.
it went back and forth for weeks before you finally asked to see him again. your usual anxiety and awkwardness around guys went out the window with him. he was simply too interesting to forget about and even if he wasn’t into you like you were, you still wanted to be around his confident and intoxicating presence.
the first time you saw him was for ice cream in the middle of winter. it was an odd decision, him ordering a simple chocolate and you vanilla if for nothing more than to argue with him over what was better. the bantering came easy to you and you noticed him getting caught up in your words more than once. it felt nice to be around him but you were still itching to know more about his life. he kept it vague during your conversation and you assumed he chose a very public place so that he could avoid a more personal interrogation. you were persistent yet careful with your questions, not wanting to scare him away, but needing to know as much as you could. something about him screamed confidence, danger, desire, power, something you never really had in life but so desperately wanted.
the second time you saw him was a little more quiet, a quaint walk around the park, but still public, with plenty of people around and prying ears that cast questionable glances your way, as if you were in some sort of danger around the man who had enraptured your heart. you managed to get more out of him then than the first time, learning more about his family and home life, but his lips were sealed when it came to where he worked and you assumed that that’s where his power came from. you thought maybe he was some big hot shot corporate guy with a hankering for gambling, pretty women, alcohol or drugs. he seemed to be willing to pick fights at the littlest of inconveniences and you were sure his vice had something to do with the seedy club you met him at but boy, were you wrong.
the third time you saw him, this time at a small diner, he told you point blank to stop asking about where he worked. he told you that he wasn’t interested in you like that, that he was just a friend who was repaying his debt to you, and you had almost believed him if not for the fact that he kept texting you after that. despite your hefty desire to know more about him, you attempted to respect his space, but your distance bothered him as much as it bothered you and before you knew it, he was knocking at your door, lips finding purchase on yours, hands tangled in your hair as he muttered about how shitty you were for making him feel this way, how dumb you were for letting him in your apartment, how he wanted to ruin you and yet make you the happiest person at the same time, how he could never really let you in like you needed him to, how you would never be happy and satisfied with what he could give you. the list went on and on in between kisses and deep breaths, hands planted firmly against your waist, teeth nipping your neck, legs tripping over one another as he threw you against the couch he had bought you only a couple months prior.
your hands found the collar of his shirt, pulling him firmly against you, wanting to break him down in the rawest form possible. if you couldn’t know it all, if you’d never be happy together forever, you at least wanted this moment with him, something to remember him by, toxicity and lust, anger and desire, love and loss, every inch of his soul was to become yours for at least one night.
your shirt was ripped down the middle, buttons flying everywhere, his own pulled swiftly from his body. he was a man of few words at times, careful to tell you so much that you felt like you’ve known him for life yet so little that you didn’t even know if you could trust him. in your heart, you felt like you did, but your brain screamed for you to run, that he was someone that could ruin your life but you didn’t care. all you needed was him.
clothes continued to fly across the room, his tongue finding your clit with quick licks, your hand finding purchase in his hair, trying to ground yourself to this reality, to him. your thighs were covered in purple marks, fingers digging bruises into your plush hips, your first orgasm being drawn out of you expertly, your voice a harsh cry against the softness of the tv in the background.
his first thrust was slow and deep, allowing you to feel every inch of him, his body covering you, encasing you, protecting you, trapping you. he was an enigma even in such a vulnerable moment, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, promising a life of luxury, promising a life of risks, if only he could let you in. you pleaded with him, cried out his name, wrapped your legs around his torso, crossing your heart and hoping to die if it only meant that he would let you in like you wanted, like you needed. you thought you had him figured out, who he could’ve been, what he was, but you were thrown into a sea of darkness, the sirens calling out their song of sorrow and despair as you struggled to swim in the confusion.
you came too fast and so did he, pent up desire causing you both to cling to one another as if your lives depended on it. when you woke up the next morning, you were covered in a blanket, a simple i’m sorry written on the same takeout menu that he had left for you all those months ago. you cried, your tears smearing the ink, snot bubbling in your nose. you cried until your throat was hoarse and your body tense, wrapped up in a blanket that smelled just faintly enough of him to hurt your heart even more. when you had finally gotten up for the day, the sun a bright speck in the sky, you noticed a package of clothes on the counter, replacements from the ones he had ruined the night before, fresh tears spilling over your cheeks as you realized that he wouldn’t be coming back.
it had taken a few weeks and some major coaxing for your friends, the party animals, to get you out of the house and back into the nightlife. they had, of course, found something exciting to do again. this time it was an underground fighting ring in the same district as the club where you had met him. you didn’t want to go, the simple proximity causing your stomach to churn, but they insisted that they wouldn’t go that close to the club, that watching some dumb meatheads fighting one another would allow you to get some of your anger out. after that, and a promise that you could leave at any time without repercussion, you had relented, letting them drag you out and about.
it felt like you were a teen again as you snuck through alleyways and down dingy doors, saying a secret password and slipping the bouncer money as you ducked into the club. the room was filled with the haze of cigars and weed, choking you as you adjusted to the thickness. blinking, you admired the crowd, a mixture of everyone milling about, throwing money around as they gambled on different people, hoping their fighter would win for the night. while you weren’t interested in gambling yourself, you enjoyed people watching and so you took a seat with your friends, happy to be present for the night. you relished the tension in the air, the spark of a fight waiting to be set off by one single hot head who got a little too cocky or one dumbass who got too pushy. the thin veil of danger set your veins on fire, your senses heightened. you were so enraptured with the hustle of the bypassers that you didn’t even realize that the first fight was starting. as soon as the fists started flying, you became even more enamored. there was so much adrenaline coursing through the air as everyone, you included, shouted and screamed, some cheering on a fighter, some booing, some just caught up in the whirlwind of it all. it was all so much and yet so cathartic at the same time, your anger bubbling over, thinking of everything that had happened.
a few more fights occurred, the shouting only continuing to get louder as the night led on to the grand finale. two of the best fighters in the underground scene were going to be pitted against one another. they were friends by day and enemies by night, doing it all for the money and power that came with the territory. you vibrated as the first man, a tall, bulky red head, took the stage, introducing himself as Red Riot. the crowd had mixed reactions, some cheering loudly for the young fighter, others booing, clearly favoring the other guy. you waited with baited breath to see who he would be pitted up against but as the smoke cleared, you saw a tuft of blonde, spiky hair, and your blood ran cold. your voice caught in your throat as Bakugou, your Bakugou, was introduced as Dynamight, the fighter taking on Red Riot tonight.
your friends either noticed your reaction and chose to let you have peace or were too enraptured in the noise to pay attention but either way, you were happy that you had time to process your emotions. the smoke was thick enough to haze the vision and you weren’t in the front lines so you didn’t think he would see you, but you also knew that one real good look into the crowd would reveal you to him. while you wanted to run away, you stayed put, your chin set high and shoulders squared back. you were prepared to face him, to see him for who he truly was, to know his darkest secrets, except this time, you would leave them in the dark, for he was no longer yours and truthfully, never was to begin with.
the fight started off slow, the men testing each other with a few half hearted punches, but as the crowd riled up, so did the guys. Bakugou managed to land a solid right hook to Red Riot’s face but he bounced back immediately, sweeping his leg out in an attempt to knock Bakugou off his feet. he jumped back quickly, kicking his leg out in an attempt to catch Red Riot’s but missed. he was now off balance and Red Riot took that as a chance to push forward, slamming his body into Bakugou’s as they both crashed to the ground. they grappled for a few minutes, the cheering deafening before Bakugou took his fist and slammed it into the side of Red Riot’s head, kicking into his stomach and scrambling up, using the momentum to bring his heel into Red Riot’s chin. after a few seconds, the ref shimmied onto the stage, raising Bakugou’s hand in victory as his opponent laid on the ground, out cold.
a strange sense of pride, relief and anger washed over you. suddenly, everything made sense. why he was always jumpy, covered in blood and bruises from time to time, how he only ever wanted to spend time in public, how he thought he couldn’t be with you because you would judge him for what he did, how he didn’t want to bring you into this life of shade and danger. you understood and yet rage boiled over you at the thought that he took that choice away from you, that he never gave you a chance to choose for yourself. how different things could’ve been if you had only known, been able to clean him up after a fight, run him a hot bath and tell him how proud you were as you rode his cock, learning to fight together, learning to protect yourself, learning to protect him. instead, you were sentenced to a life of sadness, emptiness, hollowness, a life that may be safe but served no real purpose.
as you thought about everything that had happened, you looked up to the ring, eyes locking with his, defiance flashing in your gaze as he stared at you with unreadable eyes. murmuring to your friends that you had enough adrenaline for one day, you promptly turned around, disappearing into the shadows. Bakugou had desperately wanted to run after you, mistaking your defiance for disappointment, but instead he climbed out of the ring and shoved his way into the locker room, breaking down as he realized that he had really lost you forever. little did he know, he would see you again.
months had passed since he had seen you last. a month after the fight, he had trailed over to your apartment, wanting to see you, to make sure you were okay, to explain everything and make amends, to maybe see if he could have you in his life again, however selfish that may be. he worked in a dangerous profession and knew that you being a part of that meant that you were in danger too, with many people wanting him hurt, or even worse, dead, but he also knew that he had taken that choice away from you without ever telling you the truth, afraid of what you might say. he needed to make things right, but when he got to your door, a very confused older lady had opened it, explaining that she had just moved in two weeks ago and the previous tenant was no longer there.
he spent the next three months exhausting all resources trying to find you to no avail. your friends said you had put in your two weeks and disappeared from work, saying you needed to travel and take time for yourself to see the world. he couldn’t find where you had gone and only hoped that you were safe on a beach somewhere, enjoying life like you had deserved. he fucked up something that was good, too good for him, too pure for him, just because he was scared, and while he would never forgive himself, he was beginning to be okay knowing that you were alive and happy somewhere out there. life continued onwards as he fought, won money, bought nicer things, shut himself off from the world and did whatever he could to fill the void in his heart to no avail.
it was only when he heard that you were back in town that he began to have hope again. your friends reached out to him and told him that they were going to be at the fight that night, that you had gotten them all tickets, that you were ready to finally talk and see him face to face after all this time. his heart cracked at the thought of the pain that he put you in but he didn’t let your friends know that, replying that he hoped things could go over smoothly and that you were happy. secretly, he would be fighting for you, hoping that you could see him at his worst and still tell him you loved him anyways. even if you came to yell at him and call him a piece of shit, he would welcome it, knowing he could say everything he needed to say and move on one way or another. as long as he could talk to you tonight, things would be okay.
he texted you right before he began fighting, telling you that he missed you, his vulnerability seeping through with those simple words. you only responded that you would see him soon and good luck. according to everyone he had talked to, this fighter was new, reckless, calculating and not afraid to take risks, but Bakugou was experienced and wasn’t scared of the new guy. he was fighting for you and would do anything to win.
Bakugou walked into the ring, ignoring the crowd, zeroing in on his opponent. the strange guy had his hood up and his back was facing him but Bakugou still sized him up, determining that he was nothing special. the ref announced that the fight was to begin and Bakugou wasted no time charging, slamming his fist into his opponent.
a wicked laugh rung out, hushing the crowd as everyone stared, incredulous, as the hooded opponent pulled their hood down. it was then that Bakugou stumbled back, nearly dropping to his knees as he stared at your face, blood trickling down your nose and settling in the pits of your teeth.
“aw, Bakugou, cat got your tongue?” you cooed out, sending him a wave.
one second you were across from him and the next, your knee was planted firmly into his stomach, your right leg going in between his as you hooked your ankle into his knee ditch, hitting the tendon and whisking his left leg out from under him. caught off balance, you reeled your fist back and slammed it into his face, sending him stumbling down onto one knee.
with his face leaning towards the ground, you brought your right knee up to his face, blood spattering as his head was thrown back. he reached out to grab your middle, begged you to stop, asked you what you were doing here. he didn’t care that you were beating the shit out of him, he would let you do that any day if it made you feel better, but to get to a club like his you would’ve had to do a lot of fighting, made some shady deals and dig yourself deep into the pits of hell. you were too pure for this, too pure for him, so why were you here?
“you made the decision for me long ago that i didn’t deserve to be here. i could’ve been in your corner, could’ve been helping you, but instead, you cast me aside for your own selfish reasons. so i made the decision myself. i cut ties with everyone i knew, friends, family, you, so i could become someone you never wanted me to be but someone i’ve always known i was. and now, i’ll just prove to you how little you knew me, just like i never knew you, even though i loved you.”
he tried to tackle you to the ground, his sheer size overpowering you, but you dug your thumbs into the grooves of his neck, his vision going blurry as the blood to his brain was cut off. as soon as his grip loosened, you shoved him away from you, preparing yourself as he scrambled to his feet. your fists reflexively came towards your face, shoulders hunched as you waited for his next move. he wasn’t attempting to hurt you, just make you submit, but you weren’t Bakugou and you weren’t afraid to fight in order to win.
as his body came bolting towards you again, he leaned down, wanting to bear hug you to the ground once more. your fists came out to grab his shoulders and, with his face right in yours, reared your head back to slam it into his nose, blood spraying on your scalp as he reeled back once again. confusion and hurt clouded his eyes as he eyed you up. to you, this wasn’t revenge, you didn’t hate him, but you did need him to know that you weren’t some innocent little girl that he put in danger. you were your own person and you would do anything to win.
he squared his shoulders, his own fists coming up to his face, seriousness setting in his brow, finally taking you for his opponent and not the girl he loved with every fiber of his being. his left fist came out to test your reflexes. you let him test you, let his hand break through your defenses, let him beat into you, let him feel like he was winning. you were waiting for the right moment to end him and you knew it would soon come.
the adrenaline of the fight began to kick in for Bakugou and soon he was a cocky, smiling mess. to him, this fight meant that he could show you that this life wasn’t for you. it wasn’t about forgiveness now but rather saving you from yourself. you didn’t know what you had gotten yourself into and he blamed himself for every allowing it to happen.
he saw you getting weaker, saw how his punches affected you, how the blood ran down your face, how your nose sat a little more crooked, how you spat out the iron liquid every few minutes, your hands bruised and littered in cuts from blocking his attacks. he knew he had to hit you with everything he had, not back down. you deserved to see him at his worst.
Bakugou stepped back and for you, everything happened in slow motion. his left fist came back, ready to punch, when you stepped forward with your right foot, your left hand going into his shoulder, dislocating it from the socket, ducking underneath his other arm as you swept his feet out from under him, his face planting to the ground, knocking him out cold from the sheer pain and impact. you stood, unmoving over his body as the ref climbed onto the stage to raise your hand in victory. you watched as Bakugou rolled onto his back and then sat up, eyes boring into yours, confusion laced in his gaze. wordlessly, you crawled next to him, popping his shoulder back into place without warning, not even flinching as he screamed out in agony.
you stood up, swaying slightly as people booed and cheered at you. you saw your family, friends, coworkers, anyone you knew that would be willing to come, all lined up, watching you with wide, scared eyes. the look of awe and understanding on their faces was something that you would never forget.
without turning around, you spoke loudly, “if you want to talk, we can talk, but i believe now you’ll know that you made the wrong choice. i could’ve been by your side but now i’m in too deep, too power hungry, too addicted to the taste of blood in my mouth, to the adrenaline running through my veins, that i can never turn back. you either accept me as i am, as you allowed me to be, or turn back now, but know that nothing you do will change me. i am who i’ve always meant to be: powerful.”
“Baby? Can you do my hair, please?” Kirishima calls out. He leans over the bathroom sink counter and looks into the mirror intensely. His eyes specifically target the annoying black roots sprouting from his scalp about an inch or two in length.
You walk into the bathroom and see him looking frustrated in the mirror.
“See, baby? They’re so annoying!” He quickly turns to you crouching over and bending his knees so he’s level at your shorter height.
Over the years since graduating UA, he’s added quite a few inches to his height standing currently at 6’5, he’s packed on a lot more muscle too. You’d imagine it’s slightly uncomfortable for this particularly large man to be crouching down to your smaller height like this.
Your fingers play through his hair taking note that it was in fact time for a touch up.
“Your hair grows so fast, Kiri.” Also since UA, Kirishima’s hair has grown well past his shoulders. He has no intentions on cutting it as he’s grown super attached to it, but there aren’t any complaints from you.
“Can you help me out again? The last time I tried the whole bathroom was stained red.” He stands up fully looking down at you with a slight pout.
Poor baby. You were away for a couple days working a fashion show and not only was he missing you, but he was growing antsy about his roots. He figured he did it back in school so he could do it even “better” now that he was older and a prohero.
You can only imagine how awkwardly cute and pitiful he looked while trying to dye his hair without your help.
Just imagine a 6’5 built Kiri in the bathroom trying to apply hair dye to the back of his head only getting more and more frustrated because he can’t see.
Kirishima met you one day and he went to a popular salon, seeking someone who could professionally take care of his hair after years of abuse.
It was cute. Imagine this big tall man coming into a hair salon all flustered and confused upon never stepping into such a space before. He doesn’t know what to ask or how to ask but the receptionist was sweet and patient. She set an appointment up for him, you ended up being his stylist and he was smitten ever since.
“Let’s get started then, baby.” You smiled up at him and stood on your tipping toes silently asking for a kiss. He gladly granted your request.
After getting all the necessary supplies set out and ready, you quickly got started. It was a simple procedure and caused no issues as you’ve done this countless times.
While you’re waiting for his roots to process, Kirishima turns on the home stereo and connects his phone.
It was a routine thing really.
“There’s some whores in this house, there’s some whores in this house-”
Fragile masculinity in this household? Never heard of her! Kirishima will rap this song from start to finish emitting the bad bitch energy he’s always had.
“Certificated freak! Seven days a week! Wet ass pussy, make that pull game weak! Ah ”
After the vibe session you washed and conditioned his hair thoroughly from the chemical and now it was time for the easiest and most satisfying part.
Red fire engine hair dye. After applying, washing and blow drying, you’re happy with the result. He looks so handsome.
“All done, Eji!” You exclaim and peck his cheek with your lips.
You hand him your hand mirror and he looks excitedly at himself but as he continues to look, it seems like an idea pops in his head.
“Baby, can I try something different?” He’s rummaging through your box of hair tools set on looking for something in particular.
“What are you loo-”
“These!” He pops up with clippers in hand with a wide smile spreading across his face showing his sharp edged teeth.
Your eyes widened as far as they could go.
“I’m not shaving your head Eijirou Kirishima!” You looked at him like he had just murdered 1,000 people.
“No! Just the back!”
“An undercut?”
“Yes! That!”
You got so giddy and excited to hear that he actually even suggested an undercut. You’ve had the idea for years but you knew he loved his hair and the thought of scissors even next to his head made him anxious.
“Are you sure, bub? I-” You looked at him unsure.
“I’m sure! I want to try something different! It’d be fun to have a new look!” He smiled brightly at you, again showing off his teeth. He was 100% confident in his decision.
Kirishima essentially let your creativity and expertise do it’s own thing during the cut. He trusted you would make him look awesome like you always did.
And you fucking snapped. You really did.
He looked… amazing.
“Ready to see?” You smiled as you picked up your hand mirror again.
“Yeah, baby. The suspense is killing me here.” He chucked, fidgeting in his seat a little from his nerves.
You handed him the mirror and his eyes widened.
His hair was up and pulled back stylishly in a bun exposing the newly added undercut.
“Babe! I love it! And you!” He jumped up and pulled you in an engulfing hug.
“-’M gl-ad you like it, hun!” Your voice was muffled.
“Huh?” Kirishima pulled away slightly looking down at you like a confused puppy.
You giggled.
“I said I’m glad you like it.” You smiled and he leaned down to place his lips onto yours softly.
warnings reader’s birthday, club setting, implied drinking, slight swearing, and flirty!hawks
genre modern au, suggestive ( ig )
word count1.5k
inspiration my ✨ imagination ✨
synopsis with it being your birthday, you’re aware of the gifts you’ll get. but the last thing you expect is for a generous, handsome man to make your night
You blew out your candles as your friends hit the last notes to your happy birthday song. They cheered, a few taking pictures while the others had their flash right in your face for video memory.
“Our girl’s finally 21! How’s it feel, ___?” Your friend closest to you, Jasmine, nudged your shoulder.
You hummed. Taking the candles out of your cake. “I don’t feel any different. Just can say I drink at the legal age, I guess.” You sneered, garnering a slap on the shoulder from Jasmine.
Spending your 21st at a high priced club was certainly not your idea. You would’ve settled for shots and cake at your apartment but your friends shot down that idea before you could even finish. Settling for your local ( and go to ) bar was something you also would’ve been down to do. But, of course, they insisted you all needed to be at the best in your city for your birthday.
You appreciated it. Especially since they all collectively covered the table. But the lights and music were starting to get to you. You had done your fair share of dancing, fair share of drinking, fair share of talking. Now, you just wanted to go home and sleep off that drinking portion of the night.
“Don’t tell me you getting tired,” On the opposite side of the table, your other friend deadpanned. Having the rest follow with a chorus of complaints and whines.
You held your hands up in defense. “My head is spinning and I want to be in my warm bed. Is that too much to ask for?”
Another friend countered. “Yes when I spent my whole paycheck to cover part of the table, hoe.” You snorted at her response.
“Fine. I just need something to get me back into…” You were saying as you brought your glass of water to your lips. But as your gaze drifted acrossing the seating area, your eyes locked with a pair of hazel ones. Hazel eyes that belonged to a very handsome man. And for some reason that handsome man was staring at you.
If your glass had been any closer you’re sure you would’ve choked. But you just placed it down and quickly averted your view to your friend group.
“Are you alright?” Jasmine cocked an eyebrow at your sudden flustered appearance.
“Hot guy at 3 o’clock.” Your whispered through teeth. Jasmine eyes circled into saucers as she tried her best to be discreet.
“Oh blondie. He’s hot. He’s been watching you like a hawk ever since we got our table though.” She admitted nonchalantly before taking a sip from your drink.
Your jaw fell ajar. “And you didn’t care to tell me!” You whisper-shouted.
“I’m just suprised you haven’t noticed.” Jasmine laughed. You shook your head. Your curiousity took over you and you let your eyes flicker back to his table. Your chest fell in relief seeing as he was making conversation with a waiter.
But your anxiety levels rose again when said waiter was beelining for your table right after talking to hazel. The waiter had caught your whole table’s attention.
“Is something wrong?” One of your friends immediately inquired.
“Ah! No, Mister Keigo would like to know if he could take over the bill of this party.” You physically paused, along with your friends.
“Who?” The waiter answered your friend’s question with a point of his pen to where hazel or better yet, Mister Keigo, was seated in mid coversation with one of his tablemates.
You gulped. “He insisted?”
“Yes ma’am.”
Before you could refuse the offer, Jasmine cut in. “Tell him thank you!” Your eyes widened but none of your other friends seemed to argue.
“But—” her hand slapped over your mouth.
“Thank you.” She iterated.
The waiter nodded and made his way back towards Mister Keigo’s table. Your table sat in shock, similar looks on their faces.
“A hot guy paying for your table bill? He wants you.” Your friend opposite from you proclaimed. This time you actually choked. Your hand smacked Jasmine’s hand away from you.
“He does not!”
“He so does.” They all mused.
You scoffed, a slight pout on your face. “I feel bad.”
“Here you go,” Jasmine rolled her eyes. “Just accept the sweet offer, ___.”
“Iam, but I feel like I need to thank him.” You glanced over to his table to where he was obviously signing something from the waiter. Most likely your bill.
Jasmine smacked her hand on your shoulder. “Then do that. While you’re at it see if he’ll take you home, I bet he wants some birthday cake if you catch my drift…”
Your friends laughed as you glared at Jasmine. “I will only be saying thank you then taking my leave.” You peeled her hand from your shoulder, shuffling from your seat at the booth.
“Don’t act like you don’t want him!” She called while you were already a couple feet from the table.
You didn’t, right? You tried to convince yourself that. You weren’t the type to do hook ups or sleep with strangers. But with every step you took closer to the V.I.P section, the pit in your stomach dug deeper. You knew his eyes were following you. It sent chills down your spine. But you continued to stride to the velvet rope and buffed security guy who held said rope.
“And you are?” He asked.
You stammered, opening your mouth while no words came from it. Your hope of thanking him started to slip but then a voice cut in.
“She’s with me, Vince.” You both simultaneously looked over to who it came from. And lo and behold, Mister Keigo in all his glory saving your ass from being booted from his section.
“You sure, Mister Keigo?” He strode over, clad in a sleek black suit, his sharp honey eyes fixated on your figure. You looked away, you barely knew him and he already had an effect on you.
“Now why would I ever lie, Vince?” His voice fit him so well. His tone that toed into teasing territory nearly made you shudder.
“Alright, lady.” You pursed your lips as the velvet rope was opened for you. Taking the opportunity to step past it and land in front of Mister Keigo.
Your eyes still fought for whether you should try to hold eye contact with him or just stare at the floor.
“Looking for me?” He asked. You squeezed your eyes shut, starting to heat up in embarrassment when you simply nodded.
His laughter is what had your eyes flicker up to meet his for the third time tonight. He basically towered you, he was intimidating. But something about him also made it clear that he was chill.
Maybe it was the way he spoke. Or just how you got a slither of the way he carries himself.
“Well?” He lifted an eyebrow, a smirk etched on his face.
“I-I just wanted to thank you for paying the bill, Mister-”
“Ah,” he interrupted you. “Call me Keigo, I don’t mind.”
“Really?” You thought back to what the waiter and security guard referred to him as.
He nodded, his blonde locks shifting a bit. “Completely fine with me.”
“Oh, okay. Well, I just wanted to thank you. There was no need, I appreciate it.” You finally got what you wanted to say out. Internally sighing in relief andvictory.
Keigo smiled. “No problem. Just consider it a birthday gift from me, yea?”
“Ye-yea, of course.” You nodded. You didn’t know what to say. Here you were, talking to one of the prettiest guys you’ve ever seen, who had pay for your bill like it was nothing.
“No problem…” Keigo titled his head as he trailed off.
“Oh! It’s ___, call me ___.”
“___.” He hummed. “What a pretty name. It fits you perfectly, in my opinion.” The way he lifted his eyebrow nearly made your knees buckle underneath you.
“Ah, thank you. But are you sure there’s no way I can repay you?” It was out of your control how your tone automatically borderlined on lustful. His presence made you feel hot. And his mesmerizing gaze didn’t help.
Keigo smiled devilishly, leaning forward a bit, a few inches from your face. “Is there anything you had in mind, Miss ___?”
Your breath got caught in your throat. You could practically hear your friends squealing from the other side of the room.
“It would be up to you to pick wouldn’t it?” You tried to best to match his energy. But he was so smooth. Keigo laughed, it was deeper this time while there was this particular glint in his eyes.
“Is that so?” Having no rebuttle, you nodded again. Silently letting him win.
Keigo stood upstraight again. “Here,” he took a napkin from a nearby table. Quickly asking to borrow a pen from a passing waiter.
“We can discuss it over the phone, if that’s fine with you?”
Your eyes followed as he wrote his digits down, his name in nice print right above it. “Yea. That’s fine.” You answered like you were in some trance.
“Great. I’ll be looking forward to it.” He handed you the napkin. You took that as your signal to head back to your section.
“I’ll make sure not to lose this then…” You smiled, walking away slowly but surely. With another one of his entrancing smirks, you turned around. Releasing a deep sigh before reaching Vince. But before you could exit through that velvet rope.
