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berrytimefields · 11 months

Text

“Did you get stabbed?” You ask, knowing the answer to your own question.

"No, I got a papercut at the office. Of course, I got fucking stabbed." He replied sarcastically.

Bakugou X Reader, Mafia au

A03 / M.list

General warnings for chapter: Mental Illness, Slight car accident, Guns, Blood and Injury, Descriptions of medical procedures, Violence, Flashbacks, Illegal activities, Flirting, Hurt/Comfort

You hated everything about today, to be honest.

It had been a super stressful day. You woke up late, had to work a double today, and were exhausted. So exhausted that you shouldn't have been driving home right now.

But you had no choice, working so late into the night had taken its toll on you. Your boss being the asshole that he is volunteered you and three other people in the office to stay and work late. There was an office party coming up soon, and apparently. All the paperwork that had sat around for weeks needed to be done before the party. It could have easily been handled at a later date, but no it had to be done right then and there.

It was ridiculous instead of giving everyone a stack of papers to work on. Your boss decided that only three people needed to stay and complete it all. This was the fourth night in a row that you had to stay and work almost double the time you usually do. But you know why your boss did it. You are still new, as well as the other coworkers that were forced to stay were, the lowest-paid ones at that. He was keeping his operation costs down, even if that meant he worked you to death.

It was just something you had become accustomed to with this job. You were bottom of the barrel, you had no work experience in this field. And that made you and your other sad little coworkers the main target for the extra workload. Your boss didn’t care, the man was set up with his lavish salary, in his fancy home. Wife, kids all of that waiting on him. And you?

You had an empty apartment to go home to.

You just wanted to get home. By now, it was well past midnight, and you still had to be at work in six hours. You thought about just sleeping in your car. To save on the waste of time it would be driving home and back, but you knew you would never be able to sleep in your car. So you drove fast, faster than you should have. But who cares at this point? You were clinging to the false hope that you would be able to fall into bed. And drift blissfully into a twelve-hour nap. With no work in the morning or a nagging boss saying you're moving too slowly.

God, you hated this job you had. It barely paid the bills, and they loved working you into overtime. You took the first job you could find when you came into the city. And you have been working at it for almost a year now. And every day you woke up and dreaded the awful commute to your shitty office job. Being yelled at and berated, forced to do so much more than you were being paid to do. But this job had managed to let you scrape up enough money for that apartment that you called home. It provided you with enough money to buy groceries. And once a month take yourself out for a solo adventure to the bookstore. Maybe a movie, and for that you were grateful. Your first month was so rough until you got the first couple of paychecks. You spent that month homeless.

It wasn't ideal, but you managed it. You were scared shitless the first night you had to sleep in your car. You locked the doors and cowered into yourself in the back seat. It took you almost a week before you exhausted yourself to the point your body shut down from lack of sleep. But you did anything you could to get away from where you were before. You had a shitty abusive ex-boyfriend who you managed to run away from. He didn’t allow you to have a job, or friends, and even the little family you had, couldn’t contact you unless he ok’d it first. He successfully pulled you into a tiny bubble of emotional and physical abuse. You didn’t have anyone other than him to rely on, and it was a vicious cycle you found yourself in.

But he messed up one night coming home drunk and passing out. He left his wallet and phone on the table, and to your surprise, he had a nice little stack of money sitting in his wallet. You didn’t know exactly when he got paid, but you knew it was around the times that he went out on binders like this. Smoking and drinking for two to three days at a time. Leaving you alone at home with no access to food or money to buy it for yourself. He was more preoccupied with getting high on whatever drugs he was buying. And drinking himself into a stupor to care about you or the fact that you were waiting on him to come home.

So, when you saw his wallet and keys sitting there on the coffee table you felt this was your chance to leave. And you did, you quickly fumbled around in his wallet, taking the lump of cash you found and his keys. You took all the clothes you could find, and the money and you ran. Ran as fucking far away as you could. And that's how you ended up here.

It didn’t matter that you had a shitty little apartment that happened to be in one of the roughest parts of the city. The rent was cheap and everyone kept to themselves. You had this old beat-up car, that hadn’t given you any problems yet. And you had your horrible job that barely paid the bills. But you did it, you did it all by yourself.

Yeah, the part of the city you lived in wasn’t great, you had a murder or two every couple of days, but so far you have been safe. You didn’t pay much attention to the news, but from what you could tell there had been a big spike in crime recently. Especially near where you lived. Rival gangs fighting out in the streets, over who knows what.

You tried your best to ignore the shady things you did see going on, it wasn’t your business anyway. You did what you needed to protect yourself. You carried mace, and a pink switchblade knife on you at all times. Is the knife legal? No, but as long as you didn’t get caught with it then there wouldn’t be an issue.

Not that you had ever had to use either of them yet. But with the way things were looking, it might be a possibility soon.

You would love to be able to save up enough money to move into a better part of the city. Maybe live closer to a better-paying job. But you were already scraping by working as you have been. You didn’t want anything glamorous, you just wanted to be comfortable.

And as far as you could put yourself away from the high-crime neighborhood.

But you weren’t one to complain. You had a roof over your head, your shitty little car and you had food to eat. You hated your job, but doesn’t everyone? Yeah, Your life could definitely be a lot worse than it is now.

As you stop at a red light you wait for it to turn green. Yawning loudly in the quiet car. You thought about just running it since you were the only car on the street, but you didn't. It was stupid to wait when nothing was coming. But you were gonna be a primarily law-abiding citizen, even if it kept you out later.

As soon as the light turned green you stepped on the gas. But you bow up and stop when a flash of someone comes into your field of vision. Their hands landed on the hood of your car with a loud thunk. You look on in horror as you lock eyes with the person splayed out on your hood.

It was a man, with blonde hair, and he was bloody. And you just accidentally hit him with your car! Oh, God.

He didn’t seem too injured thankfully. But that didn’t stop him from giving you the most murderous fucking glare you have ever seen from anyone. If he could have stared at you with any more venom in his eyes. You probably would have just ceased to exist right on the spot. The look didn’t last long, and he was pushing himself off the hood of your old beat-up car and standing.

He was fucking massive!

He was quick to walk over to your side of the car. Panic took over as you fumbled with the lock trying to get the doors shut tight. You were hitting every button on your door to try and lock the doors, but he was far too quick for a normal person. He quickly popped open the door behind you and plopped down. The extra weight of him in your car, made you bounce as he flopped down. As soon as his ass hits the seat you look in the rearview and lock eyes with him. watching in horror as he pulls out a gun and flashes it at you.

"Fucking drive!" His gravely voice yells at you.

That was all it took for you to speed off from the scene.

You were panicking as you kept a watch out for the man now laying in your backseat. He had a gun, you had hit him with your car and he was most definitely pissed. You didn’t know where to go, you couldn’t exactly take him to your house. As you speed through the streets take one last glance in the mirror and he is staring at you. Causing you to gasp and quickly turn back to look at the road.

“Your gonna give me a panic attack with the way your breathing up there.” He says a painful groan leaves his mouth after he speaks.

“I-I need to take you to the h-hospital.” You stutter badly. Your nerves were a wreck.

“No hospital. Just, fuck. Take me to your place.” He says after a moment.

“What? No.” Your eyes widen at the suggestion.

“Are you the one with the gun?” He brings the metal object back into view but doesn’t aim it at you. “That's what I thought." He says as he locks eyes with your frightened ones.

It was nerve-wracking having a strange man with a gun in your backseat. It was even worse when you hear him hiss in pain. I guess you could understand why he was a bit short. You wouldn't be too pleasant to deal with if some woman hit you with a car either.

You tried your best to avoid any potholes or taking a turn too sharp. You didn't want the guy bleeding out in your back seat, or him getting fed up with you and just shooting you.

Despite the way your heart is beating, you make pull into your apartment complex a few minutes later. Still alive, both of you. Getting out of the car you rush to open the door for the man. But he is already working his way out of your backseat. Slamming the door once he managed to stand upright. He motions for you to come over to him, he doesn’t have the gun in his hand anymore.

So you do what any good person would do. You have him lean on you for support while you slowly make your way up to your apartment. Well, he tried to lean on you, but he towered over you. If anything you were like a crutch. But you still tried your best to be accommodating. Given the bizarre situation, you found yourself in.

Lucky for you, at least your building had the one working elevator out of all the other buildings. So getting up to the sixth floor was going to be easy. It was late, so if fate had it nobody would see the two of you as you made your way up.

You both were silent as the elevator started to rise. And when you glanced down you could see that he was bleeding from his side. Oh god, did you hit him that hard that he had a massive hole now?

Making it to your front door was easy, but getting inside was always a pain in the ass. Your keys loved to stick and not open the locks sometimes. It was frustrating because now you had a guy bleeding out in your hallway, and your keys weren’t opening your door.

This was the most frustrating thing in the world to deal with at the moment. It didn't matter if you were exhausted and your bed was calling your name. You had some random thug looming behind you while you fumbled with your stupid keys. And frankly, it was embarrassing.

But still, you twist and turn your keys. Praying that if you juggled them fast enough that it would magically open your lock. You sigh frustrated because it just wasn't cooperating with you at all. He watched you struggle for a minute while you cursed under your breath at the stubborn lock.

“Let me see,” He says, coming to stand behind you, taking the keys out of your hands.

It took a little more effort on his part, but he managed to hit the door just right and it swung open. He didn’t wait for you to walk in first. You stood in your doorway for a moment as he walked in and made himself at home on your couch. Throwing your keys on the coffee table as he sat down.

Once you realized that you were just standing there. You quickly made your way inside and shut the door behind you. Locking it out of habit, you turn back to see the man sitting on your couch, staring at you. Like he was waiting on you to do something, your mind was running blank at the moment.

Suddenly, like a spark in your mind you think of an almost solution to the dilemma.

Instead of talking to him, you made a quick exit to your bathroom. If you couldn’t take him to the hospital, then at least you could try and patch him up on your own. You had some training in wound care and things of that nature from when you were going through college. You still had a med kit that had more than just the basics in it. You had a suture kit, zip stitches, and a plethora of other things you could use to treat at least the smaller wounds. You didn't have a clue about internal injuries though.

When you walk back out of the bathroom he is standing in front of the full-length mirror. You have propped up against the wall in the living room. He was holding his shirt up to look at his side.

“I-uh can I take a look at it?” You sounded so meek, but what the hell else were you supposed to do?

He sees you standing at the bathroom door from the mirror. He drops his shirt and turns around to face you. Nodding his head you walked back over to the couch. Before he sits he unbuttons his shirt and throws it on the floor. You try your best to ignore the half-dead, topless man grunting as he sits down on your old ragged couch. You can hear your poor couch squeak under the pressure of him sitting down. The creaking becomes more strained as he rests his full weight on it again.

You go into caretaker mode as you swat his knees apart and go in for a closer look at his side. Resting the med kit on his lap you take a look at the most obvious wound he has. It was a pretty clean cut, but it was deep or so you assumed. The main problem was that you needed to stop most of the bleeding first before you could suture it. As you pull yourself in for a closer look you see that this wasn’t from where you hit him with your car. But it looks more like a stab wound.

“Did you get stabbed?” You ask, knowing the answer to your own question.

"No, I got a papercut at the office. Of course, I got fucking stabbed." He replied sarcastically.

If he wasn't already injured and you hadn't run your car into him, you would have punched him right in the face. You get it, it probably didn’t feel the greatest in the world to get stabbed, but he didn’t have to be an ass about it. Like, yeah maybe you owed it to him a little bit because you hit him with your car. But he could at least say thank you or something. You close your eyes and take a deep breath before you reply to him, willing yourself to control your anger.

"I'm just trying to see what I'm working with here." Just keep your tone calm you remind yourself. He still has a gun somewhere.

Looking over his wound, it didn't seem as deep as you thought on your first inspection. It most likely didn't puncture any organs or anything so some stitches would be all that he needed.

As you pulled out the materials you needed to stitch him up, he watches you with a curious eye. You take out a pair of latex gloves and force yourself to stop shaking. As you pull them on, letting the material snap against your wrist as you secure them over your fingers. You take the curved needle and open the package of sterilized thread making sure to tie the end well. You threaded the thread through the needle and placed it in his lap. You were rusty as hell, stumbling your fingers slightly as you tie the thread and loop it around the needle. It's been a while since you practiced doing stitches. And even then you never got the chance to practice on a live human being before.

A small smile of victory is plastered on your face. As you successfully walk yourself through each part of setting up your suture kit. you didn’t even need to look at your old textbook or anything! The only thing you were still missing was the needle driver. You know you it was one of the first things you pulled out.

You just had it where it go?

As if he can read your mind he picks up the driver and waves it in your face. It fell off his lap while you were doing other things. You make a small O with your mouth as he hands off the driver to you. Now the worst part was about to happen. You were going to have to stitch this man up, and you had to take a moment to steel your dwindling nerves.

"I'm sorry, this isn't going to be pleasant." You apologize as you clean the wound of any debris and blood before lining up the first stitch. He only grunts in reply, and you see him steady his features, mentally preparing himself for more pain.

He immediately hisses. And starts cursing under his breath as you pull the needle through to create a stitch. You didn't dare stop once you got started though, that would only draw out the pain. You line up the second stitch and push the needle through his inflamed skin.

"That fucking hurts!" He hisses again.

You glance up to meet his pained eyes and nod. You understood, he was no doubt in pain. Most of the time the area would be numbed. But they didn’t exactly let you carry lidocaine with you when you dropped out of school.

"You got stabbed, and you're crying over stitches?" You say without thinking.

The thought of a huge man like this being a crybaby over stitches makes you smile and giggle slightly. It was clear that he could handle a good amount of pain, I mean look at him. But compared to his other injuries, he was whining about getting stitches put in.

"Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?" He asked as you placed the third stitch.

You can tell though you are providing a decent distraction for him. Before he can complain again you pop the needle through his skin once again and complete the next stitch. You let your mouth open and speak before you thought about what you were saying. Maybe if you kept him in a decent enough mood then he would spare your sad little life.

"Me? I would never." You winked and giggled more and continued to work.

"You know I still have a gun on me right?" He jokes with you, still hissing as you quickly pass the needle through his skin one last time.

It was a quick enough process. And you like to think that you kept his pain at a tolerable level, given the circumstances. At least the tense atmosphere was broken, he seemed calmer now. Maybe all you needed was a stupid little joke or two to lighten his mood. You tie off the last stitch and bring a pair of scissors up to snip the thread. Leaving enough room for someone with more skill to be able to take them out later.

"Yeah but, I don’t think you wanna shoot your nurse right?” You look up and smile at him. He meets your eyes, and you see his soften just a bit, despite the pain he is in.

You finally take a moment to look at him, and that was your first mistake. You instantly get pulled into how his eyes looked. Why did he have the prettiest eyes you have ever seen? Deep crimson, a few flecks of purple and gold floating around. He was all sharp angles and spikes. But when you looked into those absolutely beautiful fucking eyes you kinda got lost for a moment.

“I guess I could wait until you finish stitching me up first.” He winks at you like he knew exactly what you were thinking.

That was more than enough to pull your head out of the clouds and come crashing back down to earth. Immediately you turn your head away from him and look for something. Anything that would distract you from the fact this man just caught you staring at him like that.

“I-I mean it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been shot, so make it count!” You try to laugh your nerves away, you were doing fine until he winked at you.

Fuck, why did you just blurt the first thing that popped into your stupid brain? You never told anyone about that before, so why did your mind instantly feel the need to trauma bond with him? God, he probably thought you were an idiot. By the way, you were stammering and randomly giving him random facts about yourself.

“The fuck you mean by that?” He raised an eyebrow at your last answer. “How’d that happen?”

I mean, maybe if you keep him occupied he will keep you alive. So you try to think of a reason other than the sad truth of how you got shot in the first place. You got shot because your shitty boyfriend owed money to some drug dealer. And of course, the guy comes to the house looking for him.

Only to find you there scared and alone. You know he took some kind of sick pleasure at watching you try and run away, and you almost make it too. When he threatened to kill you to send a message to your boyfriend you bolted. The only problem was that the place you lived had a total of three rooms you could try and escape to. He had the gun in his hand as he sprinted after you. Easily catching you before you made it to the one bedroom with a working window. He shot you right in the thigh that night. You somehow managed to kick free of him and get the door shut.

You didn’t stop until you had run halfway from the apartment complex. You didn’t even feel the pain from getting shot. Until your body forced you to stop and suck in quite a few painful breaths. Only then did you see the trail of blood behind you. Your poor pants are soaked with your own blood. Lucky for you nobody was around to witness you bleeding all over the concrete, and you hid for a few hours after that. Too afraid to go back home, afraid he might be waiting on you to return so he could finish the job.

And to your surprise, the only person who met you at the door of your home was your boyfriend. Drunk or high, you couldn’t remember. But he was livid that you had disappeared, and he didn’t know. He didn’t even care that you had taken his punishment for owing someone money. He didn’t even notice as you hobbled back into the house. And forced yourself to strip and try and take care of your nasty wound.

That was the whole reason why you started going to school in the first place. You figured if nobody else was going to care about you, then you had to do it. You started learning how to become a nurse, and you wanted to work your way up. With a plan to earn more degrees and pull yourself out of this horrible hole you found yourself in.

“You good?”

You hear the mystery man ask, his fingers snapping in front of your eyes. It was enough to break you out of the memories you found yourself in. You nod your head and give him a weak smile. Trying your best to mask the unintentional pain you brought on yourself. You think up the most ridiculous lie possible, hoping that it would be able to at least make him smile or laugh.

“As you can tell by my lavish lifestyle, I'm a big ole drug lord.”

It took him a moment but he barks a laugh at your statement, easing the awkwardness you both have found yourself in. That was what you needed. Someone else to break the tension that found itself right in the middle of your living room again.

“Yep. been in the game now for sixty years! thinking about retiring though, these old lady bones are getting tired.” You say rubbing your bicep like it was aching.

It was so stupid really, and you don’t know why you decided to joke around, but it seemed to have the desired effect. He didn’t seem like he really wanted to hurt you, to begin with. Plus you found his presence slightly comforting. Like you definitely should be afraid of him, but you really couldn’t bring yourself to be.

It was a strange sensation. The guy was obviously dangerous. Having a gun and all but something in your gut was telling you that you shouldn’t be afraid. Maybe your self-preservation was null. And you were being stupid to trust a guy who could easily overpower you not to mention kill you. But for now, you were safe at least.

“How old does that make you then?” He continues to laugh, despite the pain he feels

“Eighty-seven!” You beam a smile at him.

Finishing up with your work, you use his lap to help hold the used and leftover materials. While you pull out a bandage to place on his side.

“Well, you look damn good for your age then, would have never guessed you were that old.” He leans back as you place the bandage on his injury and make sure it is in place.

He watches you as you lean back at start cleaning up the mess of bloody tools and wrapping them up to dispose of them. You have to say for your first ever patient, he wasn’t the worst. He complained a little, but you understood. And he even seemed to be in a better mood now thanks to your stupid jokes.

“Thanks! it’s all plastic surgery and botox.” You say, lifting yourself off the ground.

You use his knees to give yourself leverage. taking the used materials and medkit over into the kitchen. His eyes follow you as you throw the used materials in the trash, and set the med kit on the counter in the kitchen. When you turn back around you see him standing up, looking at the shirt in his hands. it’s covered in blood, but from what you can tell that was his only serious injury.

But my god, you didn’t notice until now just now fucking ripped the guy was. Every single muscle this guy has was toned and out for display. He had strong arms and shoulders that lead down to a narrow waist. Tattoos and scars fill out his skin. And his face, you had been too worried about getting him fixed up, but his face was handsome. ashy blond hair that was spiky, and those beautiful red eyes, that were staring at you.

Fuck.

“See something you like sweetheart?" He gives you a smug smirk. And you quickly turn away. You didn't think you would be staring at the man, let alone caught staring twice.

"Yeah, those tattoos you have are cool." You say sheepishly.

God, that was just about the lamest thing you could say, but you panicked.

"What, you don't have any? Ms. Drug lord?" He laughs at you.

Thankfully he didn't make a big deal out of catching you staring at him. Walking back out into the living room you make your way over to him, grabbing the bloody shirt out of his hand.

"I hope you didn't like this shirt." That is all you say before turning it around and taking it to the trash can. "I think I have something that will fit you." You reply walking off into your bedroom.

"I should be getting back, I have stuff I need to take care of." He says coming to a stop in your doorway.

You are searching around in the dresser in front of you looking for one of the biggest shirts you have. With any luck, he would be able to fit in it. Turning back around you see him standing there staring at you.

"What? No, you need to rest!" You come back with a shirt in your hands handing it to him.

"Nah. I'll be fine." He says casually as if he wasn't in a large amount of pain. You know being stabbed can’t be a fun experience.

Shaking your head you quickly pull him with you until he is at the end of your bed.

"No. Lay down, at least for a couple of hours." You are almost on the verge of begging.

You weren't gonna give him a choice right now. You wanted to make sure he was going to be ok before he left. the last thing you need in your life is to catch a murder charge because you let the guy walk out of your house and kill over. his blood is already all over your living room, and his bloody shirt is in your trash can.

"You're a bossy one aren't you?" He laughs sitting down on the edge of your bed.

"Well I did hit you with a car, I gotta make sure you don't have any internal injuries."

"I think I ran into your car. You just bumped me." He laughs at your worried face. Pulling his phone out of his pocket he taps the screen. But it remains dark. "Fuck. Did you have a charger? He asks showing you his phone.

You look over at it for a moment, checking out the charging port.

"Not for that, no." You shake your head at him.

"I'm only staying for a couple of hours." He sighs before he lays back making himself comfortable in your bed.

He didn't bother putting on the shirt you offered him. And was still covered in a good amount of dirt and grime, but you would worry about the sheets later. Standing up you go to walk out of the bedroom.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asks eyeing you from the bed.

"I'm gonna sleep on the couch, I have to work in" You pull out your phone from your pocket and look at the screen. "Three hours."

"Probably better off just not going in." He says his hands move to rest behind his head, making himself comfortable.

"Wish I could afford to." You yawn loudly, stretching your body out slightly.

"You could stay here, you don't have to sleep on the couch." He says watching you.

"I don't even know you!" You laugh. " And you wanna share a bed?"

“I was trying to be nice, but you make it sound like I’m a creep.” He laughs with you.

“At least take me to dinner before you try and get me into bed.”

His laugh amplified, and you internally cringed at what just left your mouth. Now you were the one making it creepy. why would you say something like that to him? you don’t even know this man. It had to be the fact he was handsome, causing your brain to overload.

“I mean if that’s all you want.” He winks at you, causing heat to immediately flood your face.

He wasn’t flirting with you? was he?

“Oh my god, ok I’m going to sleep now.” you pause halfway out the bedroom door. “Please don’t die and please don’t murder me. I can’t afford to die tonight.”

He only nods his head and smirks at you, making himself more comfortable in your bed.

Walking back out into the living room you see the mess you two of you left behind. there was blood staining your couch and a little trail of blood leading from the front door. Great, you left a blood trail. sighing you go over to sit in the lounge chair in the corner. it was small, but you could curl up in it and try to nap. Resting your eyes for a moment you immediately feel yourself being pulled into sleep.

You don’t know how long you were unconscious before you heard a huge crash and the sound of wood splitting. Shooting up you look at the mess of debris that used to be your front door. Rushing in were three men, spotting you in the corner a tall redhead rushed to you, gun pointed at your face.

“Where the fuck is he?” He questions towering over you.

You spare a glance over to the other two men scoping out your tiny apartment. One had black hair, while the other was a golden-haired man. All of them are extremely tall! What the hell were these guys being fed that they were this massive?

“W-who?” You stammer at the man in front of you.

You had temporarily forgotten in your sleep-fogged brain that you had a guest in your home. Exactly the one person they were here for. You didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing, they could be here to kill both of you. Or they could be his friends, either way, you were scared shitless now.

Just as you were about to open your mouth you see a tuff of ashy blond hair peek its way out from your bedroom door.

“Took you long enough.” His gruff voice calls out to the redhead. “Get that shit outta her face dumbass!’

Once he heard his voice the red-haired man lowered his gun out of your face and looked over to your bedroom. A look of relief washed over his face.

“Where the hell have you been man? we’ve been looking for you for hours!” He asked.

You watch as the black-haired one walks over to the blond checking him over for any sign of injury. He gave him a look over, poking the angry blonde right where his stab wound was. Causing him to hiss out in pain, and slapping the black-haired guy across the back of the head.

Who, the fuck were these guys?

“I’ve been here. phones dead,” He says holding it up.

The men lower their weapons, their focus now on the ashy blond walking out into the living room.

“We lost your location a couple of hours ago, we tracked you back to here.” The redhead says doing his own examination of your guest.

As they talked amongst themselves you decided to get up and check out the damage to your front door. they weren't bothered with you as their focus was elsewhere. Walking to the remains of your front door, you look at the damage. they managed to bust it off the hinges completely. Actually one of the hinges was still hanging onto the frame, a large splinter of wood still hanging on.

Well, that's great. Now you lived in a crime-riddled neighborhood and didn’t even have a door. As you were busy worrying over your poor door you hear one of them speak up about you.

“Who's the girl?” It was the redhead. They were all now looking at you, standing in the mess of wood.

“She hit me with her car and forced me back here. I've been tied up in the bedroom this whole time.” The ashy blond smirks at you. “ Look, she even stabbed me.” He points down to his side.

the other men luckily realized his joke and now they were all smirking over at you. You hated having that many sets of eyes on you. It made you feel uncomfortable to be the center of attention like this. So you awkwardly stand next to your poor door, fiddling with your hands as they examine you more.

“Couldn’t fight her off could you?” The redhead turns back and laughs at his friend.

You watch as he rolls his eyes at the comment before he yells to the other blond in your apartment.

“Hey, dumbass. Get someone over here to get a new door put up.”

He nods his head quickly and slips off silently pulling out his phone, quick to start making calls.

You just stay put, by the door, you don't know what to do in this situation. You had a group of armed strangers in your living room, and to be honest it was awkward. You did know one thing though you needed caffeine and fast. The sun was starting to come up, and you had to get ready for work soon.

making yourself scarce, you go into the kitchen. starting the process to make a pot of coffee. It was easy to start, you always prepped the day before by putting a new filter in the maker, and filling it with water. The only thing you had to do was put the coffee in and start it. You decide to make a full pot since you had so many unexpected guests now.

You lean up and open the cabinet above the sink, and you start pulling mugs down one by one. You had a weird habit of buying coffee mugs you thought were cute, it was just something small you did for yourself. But unfortunately, now your habit had turned into a borderline hoarding problem. Because you were overrun with mismatched coffee mugs and no more space.

You decide to bring down the one you thought was the cutest, at least to you. They were the ones you used the most. But you highly doubted that they would care about your little mug collection.

As you were working silently in the kitchen. The guy who was making phone calls came back into the apartment, walking over to the group of men. He talks in a low voice to the ash blond. After a moment he nods his head and red eyes look up to meet yours.

“Change of plans Sweetheart, looks like you're coming with us,” He smirks at you.

“What? No, I have to go to work!” You wave your hands nervously at him.

He breaks away from the group and joins you in the kitchen. He takes the empty cup from your hands gently. Examining it as he presses himself further into your personal space.

“I can’t get someone over here to get you a new door until this afternoon. So you're gonna spend the day with me,” He says casually, not leaving room for discussion.

"But what about work?" You ask.

I mean you still had to go, even if you didn't have a door. You didn’t really have any other option, plus it’s not like you had anything of value that someone would steal.

"You're calling in. Don't worry about your stuff, I'm gonna have Dunceface over there sit here until the door gets here." He nods over to the guy that made his phone call about getting you a new door.

"Ah, why me? Why can't Sero do it?" He whines throwing his head back like a child.

"You fucking arguing with me Denki? I know you are the one who busted it down," He yells as he turns his head in the direction of the other blond.

"He's got you there man." The redhead laughs.

As the man you patched up looks back to you, you bend to his will. You didn't want to argue with him, especially if he was getting you a new door.

“Is this what we’re doing now? Kidnapping innocent people?” you ask a little frustrated that you were willing to cave so easily to him.

“You’re the one who kidnapped me, first Sweetheart.” He replies his amused tone evident as he looks at you.

He sets the mug down beside your hip, and cages you in with his arms. Successfully pinning you between the sink and him. You can feel just how hot his body is by how far he is leaning into you. If it were under different circumstances you would be inclined to think maybe he had a thing for you. But let's be honest, you could never pull someone that looked like him.

"Ok." You sigh.

You can see the look of victory on his face as he smirks down at you. Holding you pressed to his chest. If he didn’t back up soon though you were probably going to pass out. From the intense involuntary heat that was rushing through you. Even if he didn’t find you that cute, you still clearly had a thing for him. And he was using it to his full advantage.

"Good girl, now go get a change of clothes and call your boss. We got places to be." He says after a moment, finally breaking free from the close embrace. He guides you out of the kitchen and you walk the rest of the way into your bedroom.

Once in the safety of your bedroom, you look around for a moment deciding on what you should wear. You had zero clue where you were going. But all you know was that you wanted out of your stuffy, soiled work clothes. And into something more comfortable. Rummaging around in your dresser you pull out a comfortable t-shirt, Grab a fresh pair of panties, and a new bra. You quickly strip your clothes off and let them fall into a pile on the floor. You were still too tired to care if you left the room in a mess right now, who was going to see it anyways? You slip into your new set of undergarments. Snapping the final clasp on the back of your bra when you hear a familiar voice from the doorway.

"Don't you know how to shut a fuckin door?" You hear the gravely voice yell.

You turn your head quickly to see him with a hand covering his face, shielding you from his line of sight. Oh, and he found a shirt to put on you saw. One of the other men must have had a spare change of clothes or something.

"I'm sorry, I'm almost done!" You grab the t-shirt from the bed throwing it over your body.

When you turn back to look at him you see that he had let his hand fall from his face but he still wasn’t looking at you. But looking around your room. He was searching for anything. Anything that could keep his attention away from your partially clothed body. Pulling your jeans and turn to search for your shoes that were somewhere around your bed.

Spotting them at the end of the bed. You hop as you put on your shoes and stand proud that you didn't end up falling in the process. He snickers from the doorway.

"Alright, you ready?" He asks.

"As ready as I can be!"

"Let's get out of here."

You don’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. You were escorted via a large blacked-out SUV. While you and the mystery blonde we in a vehicle by yourself. The others followed close behind in an identical vehicle. The mystery man was driving, and you sat quietly in the passenger seat. watching the early morning traffic go by. Eventually, your thoughts get the better of you. And you finally ask the one question that has been burning up all your thoughts.

“Who are you?” You turn to look at him. He doesn’t face you though as he continues to drive. “I mean I don’t even know your name.”

“Names Katsuki Bakugou.” He glances at you as he speaks, but his main focus was driving.

“Hello Bakugou, it’s nice to formally meet you!” You say and he laughs as you try to give him your best customer service voice.

“You don’t sound too scared of me.” He says after his laughter had died down a bit.

as the vehicle pulls up to a stop, he turns his head and looks at you, giving you his full attention. God, did he have to stare at you like that? Now that the sun was out you could see just how bright his red eyes were, and how intense they looked.

“I mean, should I be?” You question.

Yeah, sure he had pulled a weapon on you earlier and everything, but he seemed like he was calm now. You didn’t get the impression that he wanted you to be afraid of him.

“You seriously don’t know who I am?” He asks confused, studying your face.

He seemed slightly offended by the fact that you weren't cowering in fear once you learned his name.

“No?” You ask back just as confused as he was.

You would be an idiot if you didn’t realize he had to be someone important. Well, important enough to have others busting down doors and tracking his location. But his name did not ring a bell.

“You don’t watch the news or nothin'?” He asks still in disbelief that you don’t know who he is.

“Are you a Mafia boss or something?” You laugh at the ridiculous statement.

But when you looked back over at him he wasn’t laughing with you.

the laugh you had died as you slowly started to go over the facts. He was out in a dangerous part of the city late at night. He had a weapon, he got stabbed, and he forced his way into your car and into your home. granted he was nice, but he had a band of men that busted down your door to get to him.

Oh fuck.

Once he sees the realization cross your face he smiles.

You sat there for a few minutes in silence. You didn’t know what to say. I mean it made perfect sense, and yeah you didn’t pay attention to the news at all. All it was something dreadful that happened, or someone being killed. You didn't care what was happening, as long as it directly involved you. It was selfish to think that way, but hell nobody else was gonna look out for you.

Besides, he wouldn’t have kept you around for as long as he had. And was in the process of getting your door fixed if he was planning on killing you. So you were safe, right?

“What ya got going through that head of yours sweetheart?” He asks as he makes a turn into a huge set of towers downtown.

Sleek looking as the sun starts to shine off of them. You started heading towards the underground parking lot that connected the two skyscrapers. The sky slowly disappeared as you drove deeper into the underground. Yellow lights and concrete replaced the bright sky. Along with a few expensive-looking cars parked along the way.

“I guess you know I’m not a drug lord then huh?” You finally say after a moment.

He pulled into a parking spot next to an elevator door. the other SUV pulling in beside yours.

“Are you telling me that you're also not some old lady?” He laughs. “I thought we had something special!”

“The ultimate betrayal!” You giggle. "I know!"

He looked at you for a moment, something unreadable in his features. Before he opened his door getting out. You didn’t even have a chance to reach for your door handle before his head ducked back into the SUV.

“Don’t touch that fuckin handle.” He barks, and you are quick to put your hand back in your lap.

He was fast to round the SUV and make his way to your door, Opening it up. He holds out his free hand out for you to grab ahold of. He helped you out of the SUV and shut the door behind you. When you both started walking he didn't let go of your hand though. Instead, he laced his fingers with yours and led the way to the elevator.

You never made it to the main lobby, instead, the elevator lead you to the top floor of the building. The redhead and the black hair guy were on the elevator with you and Bakugou. They were talking amongst themselves and you minded your own business. Truth be told you didn’t care what they were talking about.

It wasn’t your business after all.

You count the quiet dings of the elevator as it moves steadily up the tower. Eager to see where you were going to be spending the day. When the doors finally open you are greeted with a quiet a view. The office that you walked into was beautiful. Gray marble walls covered the majority of the office. Large window panes ran from top to bottom of one wall, giving you a birds-ey view of the city below.

You don’t think you have ever been up this high before in your life! The view was amazing in the early morning. You could see the fog still on the streets below, the cars looked so tiny from up here. Like a child, you press yourself up against the glass to get a better look. Even the people looked like tiny little specs from here.

Eventually, you pry yourself away from the view and wander around a bit. It was a wide open space, decorated and fancy. The large desk looked like you could easily lay o top of it and use it to nap if you had the chance. There were a few items strew across the desk, papers, and an extra fancy-looking fountain pen. And some pictures of people you didn’t recognize.

What caught your eye though was the large dark leather couch off to the side. There were also two matching chairs that looked comfortable. But you immediately found the couch calling your name. And much to your assumption, it was just as comfortable as you thought it would be. Still chilled from the air, the leather felt nice against your skin.

You thought that since you were going to be spending the day here, you might as well get a least a little comfortable. You slip off your shoes, making sure they are lined up and tucked under the couch. You pull your feet up on the couch, tucking them in further to yourself, you scoot to lean slightly on one arm.

You watch as the three men crowd around the large desk and talk in a hushed tone. But you still were minding your own business, you instead watch the three men. Muscles flexed and twisted as they moved about. They were all built like they just popped straight out of a book about greek mythology. Muscles and height for days, like it, wasn’t fair.

Where were you when they were giving out all the good genes?

After a few minutes had gone by your lack of sleep was catching up with you. Yawning as quietly as you could, let your eyes close for just a moment. It felt nice to let them rest, but you didn’t want to fall asleep, you didn’t want to seem rude.

And you didn’t mean to fall asleep. But the sounds of the men's whispers slowly became quieter with each passing second. Their hushed voices drift away as you were lulled into a slumber you desperately needed. It was warm and you were comfortable here, and oddly enough you felt safe.

Surely, someone would wake you up in a few minutes when they figured out what to do with you.

The sound of your phone ringing violently woke you from your sleep. Throwing yourself to sit up you pull your phone from your pocket. It was your boss.

Fuck, you forgot to call him to let him know that you weren’t gonna be making it in today. Before you could answer your phone, it stopped ringing. If you weren’t already fired for a no-call no-show. Then you were definitely in for an ass chewing when you went in tomorrow. A heavy sigh leaves your mouth as your phone immediately starts ringing again. You don’t even have to look at the screen to know who is calling you.

“You planning on answering that?” Came Bakugou’s voice from his desk.

He was alone now, paperwork and a computer in front of him. Standing up you look down when you feel the weight of something falling to the ground and landing on your feet. It was a large plush blanket, in a charcoal grey color. You quickly go to pick up the blanket and try to fold it but give up once you realize it’s twice the size you are. Opting to leave it on the couch instead.

“It’s my boss, I forgot to call him this morning.” You sigh again when the phone goes to voicemail again. Immediately your phone starts to ring again.

“Give it here.” He says holding out his hand for your phone.

Without another thought, you walk the short distance to his desk and hand him your phone.

“Hello?” his voice was rough, gravely. “Yeah no, she's not gonna be making it in today. Family emergency.” He pauses as he listens to the man on the other line. Frustration is evident on his face the longer he has to listen to the man. “No, she can’t talk. He pauses again, you can hear the elevated volume of your boss from where you stand. “She'll call you when she wants to.”

With that, he hangs up the phone and hands it back to you.

You were a little shocked, you have never heard anyone match the attitude your boss liked to have. But it seems like your new friend here really wasn’t afraid of anything.

“Thank you.” You mutter as you stretch your body finally.

“Huh?” he glanced at you quickly before going back to his work.

“I said thanks for handling that, I appreciate it.”

“Your boss is a dick,” He says looking over at you.

“You should see him in person, it’s a real treat.” You laugh as you speak.

You lean on the corner of his desk and turn your head to look at him. He was casually reading over the stack of papers in his hand.

“You need a better job.” He says after he finishes the page he was reading.

“You gonna give me one?” You tease.

“I’d pay you more, for less bullshit. That’s for sure.” He winks at you.

“I hit you with a car, and kidnap you and you wanna give me a job." You giggle. "Do I get a raise if I take a limb?"

"Promotion if you kill me." He barks a laugh at you.

You don't know why it was so easy to talk to him and joke around but it is. Even if you met under some unfortunate circumstances. Speaking of which you kinda wanted to know more about what had happened to him, but you thought it wrong to pry.

"How are your stitches holding up?" You ask instead.

"Doc said you didn't do too bad of a job patching me up. Gave me some meds for the pain."

"How did you go see a doctor already? It's only been like an hour." You say flabbergasted.

"Sweetheart, it's almost four in the afternoon. You slept most of the day."

"What? You can't be serious!"

There was no way you spent the entire day curled up on some stranger's sofa sleeping like a baby. You had a hard enough time falling asleep in your own bed! But you look back at the couch and sure enough, the indention of your body was still easy to see. You also noticed a comfortable-looking pillow next to where your head had been.

"You passed out, and I made every leave so you could sleep. You looked like hell when I got into your car. Figured you needed to rest."

Ok, that was very sweet, even if he worded it like an insult. He brought you a pillow and a blanket and let you sleep all day. Even made his friends leave so you could have some peace. You’ve never had just random acts of kindness thrust upon you like this before. The thought of someone taking you into consideration left you a little taken aback.

"Your doors up, and fixed by the way. I can get Red to take you home." He says standing up from his desk.

"Thank you, I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused today." You say, turning your head when you saw the tiny sliver of skin show from the bottom of the white shirt he was wearing.

Why were you feeling shy all of the sudden? It’s not like he hadn’t just seen all that and so much more just a few hours ago. It was just your brain trying to regain its concept of reality, it had to be. You shake the thoughts from your mind and try to focus on his face when you turn your head back to face him.

He takes his phone out of his pocket and sends off a quick text, before meeting your stare.

"Give me your phone." He says holding out his hand. Confused you hand him the device you had in your pocket. You see him type something in and give you your phone back. "I put my number in there. If you need something, let me know."

"What if I just wanna talk?" You smirk at him, and a smile creeps onto his face.

"I'll make time for that too." He laughs. " but seriously it's getting pretty dangerous out there. If you need anything, and I mean anything, you give me a call."

"Ok." You laugh with him. He surprises you when he bends down slightly and kisses the top of your head. You can feel the heat immediately flood your face.

"Good girl." He smirks and walks back to his desk.

God, you couldn’t keep the heat from flooding your face at his words. How did he figure out you loved that phrase so much? Were you that obvious to read? That he could pick up on something so small. You have to force yourself to calm down, he probably said that to every girl he met.

You lean against his desk not sure of what you should do. It wasn't even a minute later. The bulky redhead that only a few hours ago had a gun shoved in your face opened the office door.

"Ready to go?" He looks at you and asks.

A mouth full of sharp pointy teeth were on full display with the smile he gave you. He didn’t look so menacing when he was smiling. In fact, he actually looked kinda and friendly.

"Yep!" You smile back at him.

Looking back to Bakugou one last time he watches you as you make your way to the door.

"Bye Bakugou, talk to you soon!" You winked and made a quick exit out the door.

What the hell was today? I mean you had a new friend it seems. A cute friend at that. But the last few hours have thrown you for a loop. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you would have ended up in a situation like this.

But who knows? He will probably forget all about you as soon as you leave his office. He was just being nice, you convinced yourself. He seemed like a very important guy and the last thing he needed in his life was your mess. Yeah, even if you never saw him again after today you were thankful for the random encounter. You were able to patch him up, and you actually got some sleep. You could worry about your sad little life and job later. Right now you clung to the good feeling you had as you rode the elevator down to the parking garage. Things could have ended very badly for you, but you were lucky to come out unscathed in the end.

But why did you suddenly feel a small pang of hurt at the thought this was going to be the last time you ever saw him?

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