#Dynamite chills on katsukis shoulders all the time

[anotherhellchild]

📂 i love your headcanons!

Aaahhhh thank you so much!! 

Alright so, in honour of ur username…. Imma spout a Dadzawa + Bakuson + cat headcanon 

(Quick shout out to @arschemy first tho! This was originally her idea and she really helped me <3)

The sun’s going down and Katsuki is on his way back to the dorms from his run. 

It’s cold out, not cold enough for a jacket but definitely cold enough for a long sleeved shirt. The sky is getting darker and Katsuki’s heavy breaths become visible after every short exhale. The boy’s maybe got another three or four kilometers left before he’s back at UA’s gates, he’ll probably be there in about ten minutes.

A small, dark gray dot appears on the light gray concrete about two meters away from Katsuki’s feet. Then another falls a little away from there. Soon, more specs materialize and before Katsuki knows it, rain starts pouring down all around him. The street is empty. His hair dampens and falls down his forehead, wet locks of blond hair cover the top of his eyes. Raindrops slide down his neck and partially soaked socks make every step uncomfortable. 

He should probably pick up the pace.

There’s a loud shriek. Or more accurately, there’s a loud shriek-like sound. 

The noise comes from the alleyway to Katsuki’s right and the teen halts his movement right away. 

Taking a couple steps back, Katsuki peeks past the corner of the wall. He’s just in time to see a cardboard box flip over and fall to the ground. After a moment of nothing, the thing knocks itself about three centimeters to the left.

Katsuki’s pretty sure unanimous objects aren’t supposed to be able to do that.

He should probably investigate this. 

Making sure to keep his footsteps light, Katsuki carefully steps closer to the box. He needs to be cautious, you never know who or what could pop out from under a box in a sketchy alleyway. 

mrrreowwww!

Oh. It’s just a fucking cat.

Great. 

Somewhere, deep in the teen’s heart, Katsuki’s honestly a little relieved. Everywhere else though, Katsuki feels really stupid. 

Not everything is out to get you, you fucking idiot.

Maybe he’s starting to turn a little paranoid.

The side of the box lifts up slightly, just enough for a little black paw to stick out from underneath. 

Katsuki stares.

A black nose nudges it’s way underneath the box too, it fits perfectly in the gap created by the small paw. Whiskers and pointy teeth poke out from under cardboard.

Soundlessly, Katsuki crouches down.

The cat's head nudges and squirms it’s way out from underneath the box, once the small, drenched face completely finds its way out of its cardboard prison, it freezes.

Katsuki doesn’t move.

Big, red eyes stare into his.

Neither of them blink.

Rain still falls around them. Fat drops of water crash to the ground and two creatures get soaked in a stare off.

The cat gives first, it carefully tilts its head before cautiously continuing the process of getting out from under the box. It’s eyes stay locked on Katsuki.

Katsuki blinks then, the movement is slow and he doesn’t dare move any other muscle.

The cat blinks back. The thing’s found its way out from the box and it takes a cautious step towards the blond. Its black, spikey fur is a little tangled and really wet. Its ears are back and flat against its head. The thing looks underfed, cold and ready to pounce.

Katsuki offers his hand.

The distance between the two is closed slowly. After a couple sniffles, the cat comes even closer, maybe it senses Katsuki’s warmth. Maybe it craves that warmth.

Fuck.

Katsuki didn’t think he’d be relating to a fucking alleycat when he left for his run an hour ago, yet here he is. 

The boy carefully gives the shivering creature a pat on its head. The thing immediately demands for more.

No.

Fuck. 

He can’t get attached to the fucking cat. He’s not even a cat person for fucks sake.

mew

A little black paw comes up to tap Katusuki’s hand after it paused in its movement. Big red eyes seem to glow in the dark.

Tch.

When the hell did he become so weak?

---

Katsuki prays to any deity that nobody hears him enter the dorms. He really really really does not need anybody talking to him right now.

The cat squirms around in Katsuki’s shirt. The thing’s still shivering a little bit, but it’s already much better than twenty minutes ago. It serves as a nice lil’ heater on Katsuki’s chest too.

After looking around to make sure the coast is clear, Katsuki makes a bee-line for the stairs. By some miracle, he actually manages to make it to his room undetected.

Once he’s got the cat inside, Katsuki does his best to help the little guy out.

First, he takes the thing to the showers. Luckily for them, it’s too early in the evening for anybody else to be around in the bathroom so they get all the space they need to clean/ warm up. 

It doesn’t take long for Katsuki to discover the hardest part of the whole ‘cleaning process’. Even though the damn thing is already soaking wet, it absolutely refuses to touch the warm, clean water Katsuki prepared for it. Lets just say that giving the cat a much needed bath has earned the boy quite a couple scratches. 

The cat’s an annoying lil’ beast.

After both of them are all cleaned up though, it’s easy for Katsuki to brush the tangles out of the cat’s fur. The animal doesn’t put up any fuss and it actually seems to lean into the touch.

Katsuki finds some dinner for the both of them after all that is said and done. The cat desperately needs some food and water and although there isn’t any cat food in the dorms, they both make due with some random things Katsuki finds in the kitchen.

It’s too late to go out to a pet store right now, that’s just going to have to be done tomorrow.

The rest of the night, Katsuki and the cat just chill together. Katsuki honestly never knew watching a cat chase a laser could be so entertaining.

This kind of sucks, he thinks a couple hours after he found this monstrosity of a creature stuck under a fucking cardboard box in some random alleyway. 

He looks down to where the bundle of black fur is curled up on his chest, the damn thing is purring and maybe maybe it's definitely already earned a special spot in Katsuki's heart.

I can’t keep you.

Katsuki knows he can’t. It would be unfair to the cat and it would be too selfish of him.

It’s not like he wants it this way, but he knows- he knows the cat deserves better.

So, there’re really only two options:

1) Take the cat to a shelter. It’d probably find a good home to live in. There’s no guarantee that would be the case though.

Or

2) … Aizawa’s birthday is coming up. Katsuki hasn’t thought about what he wants to give his sensei yet but, everyone knows the man has a soft spot for strays. 

Yeah, Katsuki’s already made up his mind.

---

It’s been a suspiciously normal birthday so far. Shota’s a little over 15 hours into the day and somehow, with his hell class, nothing drastic has happened yet. It’s almost unsettling, not that Shota’s complaining of course. He just… isn’t used to this relative normalness. 

Whatever, he’s decided to just enjoy it. Perhaps the gods have finally decided to grant him a small break and the least Shota could do is accept that.

Anyway, Shota’s almost done giving his feedback speech to the kids and once it’s over, he’ll finally be free to take a much deserved nap. 

“All in all, you guys did a good job today. Each of you know what you need to improve on individually so make sure you do. Dismissed.” 

The class tiredly falters to the changing rooms at his words, except one stays where he is. The sight makes Shota sigh.

This is gonna be trouble, he thinks. The particular kid who's decided to stay behind is kind of notorious for- well he’s notorious for a bunch of things, but Shota will just use the word ‘danger’ for now.

Bakugou walks towards him as soon as the rest of the class is gone.

“Hey teach, I uhh gotchu somethin’.” The absolute hell child kind of awkwardly scratches the back of his head with those words. It’s obvious he’s having trouble with this, nevertheless Shota is incredibly proud of how far he’s come with his people skills. “Happy birthday I guess.”

Bakugou hands him a small, poorly wrapped package.

Honestly, Shota’s pretty surprised by the gesture. He… wasn’t expecting this. The class has already congratulated him with cake and gifts this morning, it was cheesy and sappy and sweet and it was done. The moment has already been had and it’s also already passed. Now Bakugou, of all people, is showing an extra form of affection towards him with whatever is wrapped in that paper.

Has the kid been hit with a quirk or something?

Unwrapping the package, Shota discovers... a collar. 

Oh god.

It’s red with black seams on the outside and black with red seams on the inside. 

Shota’s getting a very foreboding feeling about this, he’s also quite confused.

The man looks up to find Bakugou smirking.

“You can flip it around so either the black or red side shows.” The boy says.

“Bakugou, wha-?” 

“I chose this colour cause it matches with his eyes.”

The kid crosses his arms over his chest. Somehow, the smirk on his face grows, an unnamed feeling in Shota’s chest grows with it. 

“Also, I haven’t gotten a name tag yet cause I figured you’d want to name him yourself. Personally, I kinda liked ‘Dynamite’, but it’s obviously up to you though.” 

Shota gulps. Pieces are falling together and he’s not sure he likes the picture they show. 

What exactly did his devil spawn student do?

There’s no way- did he? Did he do what Shota thinks he’s done?

“Alright alright, look.” The kid says, hands up in a defensive stance. “Calm down sensei, jeez. Stop looking at me like you’re having a heart attack. I’ll explain, Okay?”

Shota takes a deep breath. He will show now sign of hope or excitement on his face.

“I was out on a run last week and I found a stray cat. I brought it back to the dorms cause it looked like shit and I- I just didn’t wanna leave it there.” Bakugou frowns at that, his gaze tears away from Shota’s and focuses on the ground instead. “Whatever. It’s really sweet and it deserves a good home. I knew you really liked cats and with your birthday coming up and all I just kinda figured you might want him? If you don’t then that’s fine of course, I just- hmph. It’s a good cat, okay?” The words are spoken clearly, Shota knows they’re used to hide insecurities though. Katsuki’s on the defensive.

There’s a lot to unpack. The main thing Shota notes is that Katsuki’s clearly gotten attached to this cat of his. 

To be honest, Shota’s already made up his mind about this. 

“So, you’re telling me you’ve been hiding a cat in your dorm room for a week now? You’re aware that’s against the rules right?” He keeps his voice calm and monotone.

The kid huffs. “Yeah, I have. And I do. I wanted to wait till your birthday to give him to you though, it’d kinda spoil the surprise if I told you.”

“True.” Shota stands up, thank god his capture weapon is there to hide his smile. 

Katsuki looks up to him and there’s a bit of a pause. He stares at Bakugou and Bakugou stares right back.

 “Well, am I going to be allowed to meet Dynamite or what?” Shota says, one brow quirked up in challenge.

Bakugou releases a breath, shoulders relaxing. “Yeah, you better take good care of him though, sensei. You won’t be forgiven if you don’t.” There’s a smirk on the boy’s lips, but his eyes are dead serious.

A fucking shovel talk.

Heh, leave it to his hell child to give such a casual yet intimidating shovel talk about a cat. 

Pretty impressive.

He’ll be a fine hero, Shota thinks.

---

So, Dynamite is a fucking angel. Shota loves him and it’s no wonder Bakugou got so attached to him, the cat literally follows the boy around everywhere and Bakugou is definitely its favorite person.

It’s kind of nice, seeing the kid relax and let loose whenever he comes over to the teachers dorm for the creature. It happens quite often and Shota even brings the thing over to the dorms sometimes, just so Bakugou can hang out with it for a while.

What? It’s good to see the kid’s shoulders slump down whenever Dynamite sits on his lap. Bakugou absentmindedly strokes soft, black fur and the actions automatically makes his guard drop, albeit slightly. 

Honestly, at this point Dynamite isn’t even his cat anymore. It’s his and Bakugou’s cat.

Shota doesn’t mind.

#IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER TO ANSWER #pls forgive me ive just been so busy #and i really kinda hated my writing #but i felt so guilty for making you wait so long :(( #am very very sorry #anyway #the cat and katsuki are besties :) #Dynamite chills on katsukis shoulders all the time #it very cute #bnha #bakugou katsuki #shota aizawa #a cat #BNHA Headcanons #my hero academia #Headcanon #disclaimer btw: i know nothing about cats #do like them tho #folder ask!!

[lostlitany]

Silent Gossip

A little extra something for all of you who might be interested! I didn’t want to add this to the actual fic because it’s got different vibes and my brain waves didn’t like that. So I followed the serotonin and decided to give y’all a little secret Easter Egg over here on my tumblr!

Content Warnings: BMBP, Bakusquad shenanigans, crying, completely unnecessary everything, aside from the fact I wanted to write more and Beta and some comments convinced me to do this.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going!?” Kirishima burst into the common room.

Bakugou flinched at the volume of his boyfriend’s voice, clutching the strap of his backpack, whipping around, and staring at the redhead in complete shock. “I-”

Pounding footsteps echoed down the staircase. “Katsuki! Get your ass back over here, don’t you dare take another step towards that door!” Ashido slowed to a stop next to Kirishima, crossing her arms and glaring holes through the blond. “Dynamite, we talked about this,” she added on, much more gently.

The elevator dinged and Kaminari stumbled out, running towards Bakugou. “Stop right there, Kacchan!!”

“Dude, Mina and Eijirou one hundred percent beat us, chill,” Sero huffed a laugh as he emerged from the elevator, catching Kaminari with his tape before the blond tripped on his face.

“Dude!” Kaminari whined, righting himself. “Where are you going?? It’s squad night!”

Bakugou’s eyes darted to the side, looking anywhere but at the squad.

Oh… Fuck…

Everyone was watching them. Four Eyes was frozen, holding plates from the kitchen. Round Cheeks was paralyzed sitting halfway in her chair. Bird Brain and Headphones were looking up from whatever they were doing on her phone. Ponytail was standing in the middle of the common room, holding a cup of tea. Half and Half and Deku were staring at him from the kitchen. He forced himself to stand up a little straighter under the gaze of so many classmates.

“Where the fuck do you think I’m going?” He glared at Kirishima.

The redhead met his glare head on, with a burning gaze of his own. “I’m not letting you go back,” he shook his head, “not after last time.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

Ashido barked a laugh. “You do not want me to argue with you in the middle of the common room. Let’s go back upstairs.”

“I don’t need to go back upstairs! I need to go home!”

“She burned you!!” Kirishima’s voice cracked.

“Kacchan-” Midoriya squeaked. Todoroki put a hand on his shoulder.

Kaminari kept his voice low. “She’s gonna hurt you again if you go back.”

“Don’t you morons fucking get it!? She’s gonna fucking do worse if I don’t go back!” Bakugou shouted, shoulders quivering.

“Dude, tell Aizawa, for fucks sake!” Sero threw his arms up in exasperation.

“Why are you so set on him!?” The blond screeched. “I’m gonna tell him, he’s gonna ask me questions, then he’s gonna call her! And he’s gonna ask her a bunch of questions! She’s gonna get suspicious! She’s gonna know that I told! I know how to deal with her! I know what to expect! I’ve been doing this for years! If I fuck it up now-”

Kirishima surged forward and wrapped the boy up in his arms, cutting off his spiral. “You’re not fighting her alone anymore. Let Aizawa help. Let us help. I won’t let her do anything to you. Not again. Not ever.”

Kaminari shuffled his feet. “We really should take care of it now, dude.”

“Do we have to?” Bakugou groaned before he buried his head in his boyfriend’s shoulder.

Sero nodded. “Kami’s right. The sooner we work this out, the better. Like you said, you’re gonna get hell if you don’t go home. Let’s tell someone now so when she comes after you, we’ve got some defenses up. Make sense?”

“…‘M not ready.”

Kirishima deflated in his hold. His shoulders dropped dejectedly as a sigh fell past his lips. “I don’t mean to be a jerk, but…” He pulled back from the hug. “The fact is, your safety and well-being is threatened every time you go home, so, I’m sorry, Kat, but I don’t care if you’re ready or not. I am.” He gestured to the other three squad members. “We are.” He shook his head slowly, reaching for Bakugou’s hands, interlacing their fingers together. “I don’t want you to get hurt again. I won’t let you let yourself get hurt again. We’re going to Aizawa.” He tugged on Bakugou’s hands.

“Now?” The blond questioned as Kirishima pulled with a little more force.

The redhead looked down at their hands. Images of bandages flooded his mind. The burns, the blisters, the bruises. His gaze trailed back up to Bakugou’s eyes. Eyes that he had looked through time and time again. Eyes that were bright, intelligent, strong, determined, passionate, and reassuring. Eyes that were scared, troubled, nervous, sad, angry, overwhelmed, frustrated, depressed, and vacant. A wave of rage flowed within him at the thought that anybody would want those bright red eyes to be fearful and unsure of themselves. He couldn’t fathom that someone thought his beautiful boyfriend was anything less than amazing and inspiring. Absolute hatred filled him at the thought of the woman who had planted so much doubt in this boy’s head, the woman who had scarred him physically, and emotionally, the woman who had hurt this incredible boy over and over with no remorse.

“Yes.”

The common room was silent as Kirishima dragged Bakugou to the back of the building. The Bakusquad diligently followed along behind the pair as the redhead led the way to Aizawa’s room. Once they rounded the corner, Bakugou heard the whispering start up amongst their classmates. Dread filled his stomach. He didn’t want to become the class’s charity case.

They came to a stop outside of Aizawa’s door. Kirishima nudged the blond forward, urging him to take the first step.

“Go ahead,” Sero nodded. “Knock.”

Bakugou’s eyes flicked between his friends. Slowly, subtly, he shook his head.

Ashido rolled her eyes. She grabbed his hand in hers and took a step towards the door, reaching her other hand up to knock curtly on the barrier separating them from the teacher’s room. The blond’s hand tensed in hers, squeezing her fingers tightly as shuffling could be heard from the other side.

The door swung open.

Bakugou’s heart dropped when he looked up at Aizawa’s tired gaze.

“Oh no,” the teacher drawled, “What have you five done this time?”

“We were actually wondering if we could come in and talk to you,” Kaminari answered.

Aizawa glanced over the group before sighing tiredly. He stepped to the side and motioned them into the room. “Is everything okay, Bakugou?”

“Of fucking course!” The blond defended. Kirishima nudged him in the side. “Why do you ask?”

Aizawa shrugged lazily. “I’m just surprised you’re still here. Thought you handed in a weekend visit form. Is it for next week? I may have gotten the date wrong.” He made his way into the room, settling down in the chair at his desk and spinning it around to face the couch. He gestured for the kids to take a seat.

Bakugou sat on the arm of the couch, Kirishima sat on the edge next to him. Ashido took the seat in the middle, Sero took the other end, and Kaminari squeezed into the small space between them.

“You got the date right,” Sero assured.

“Dynamite’s not going, though,” Ashido finished.

Aizawa raised an eyebrow at that. “Not that it’s my business, but why not, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Because!” Kaminari cut it. “We won’t let him!”

Aizawa paused for a moment, taking a second to make sure that he had heard the words correctly. “Okay.” He sighed, gesturing for one of the kids to continue on. “Why?”

Kaminari huffed a sigh of his own before he turned his head to the side. Aizawa followed the boy's gaze as all of the students slowly turned towards Bakugou. The blond in question hiked his shoulders up a little higher at the sudden scrutiny.

Kirishima nudged him lightly, “Well?” He urged.

Bakugou leaned back against the couch as his head tilted up towards the ceiling. His hand came up to cover his eyes as he forced his shoulders to relax yet again. “Well, teach,” he started. “My Old Hag’s a bit of a bitch.” He let out a heavy sigh.

Ashido slapped her palm against her forehead

Aizawa nodded, not that Bakugou was looking at him. He waited for the blond to continue, though it didn’t look like he was going to. “Care to elaborate?”

“Not particularly.”

“Alright!” Ashido chirped. “Everyone on the floor. You too Aizawa.”

“The fuck Raccoon Eyes!?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get annoyed with me! You don’t get to be annoyed at me right now! You really thought you were gonna sneak back home and then you have the fricken nerve to do that stupid sigh of yours and you only got through one sentence!! You’re gonna talk about your problems, and you’re gonna do it now! So get on the floor and be part of Circle Time!”

Bakugou stood up and glared at the girl. “I’m not gonna make our teacher be part of your dumb therapy session! I'm not spending all night here talking about shit with you!”

She put her hands on her hips. “We’re not gonna do a whole round! We’re gonna simulate one! So you can explain what the fuck is happening properly! Now get on the floor!”

“No!”

“Katsuki,” she growled, “I’m not asking.”

Sero had easily slipped onto the floor, sitting with his legs crossed and his back straight, carefully breathing in and out. Kaminari was standing next to Aizawa, explaining the rules, where to sit, where to look, how to breathe, what to do, how to listen. Kirishima was frozen on the couch, looking back and forth between his boyfriend and his best friend as they stood off against each other, waiting to see who would crack first.

“I’m not doing this.” Bakugou crossed his arms.

“Okay. Don’t. But just know that if you don’t tell Aizawa right now,” she tilted her head challengingly. “Then I will.”

“I don’t fucking-”

“You can either man up, and deal with your own problems while we’re here to back you up, or you can leave. Run away from it all and hide somewhere where you think it can’t get you. But the fact of the matter is, Aizawa’s gonna find out tonight. Will it be when you tell him, on your own terms? Or will it be when he comes to you, invading your safe space, asking for clarification, on his terms? You decide.” She crossed her arms coldly, expecting him to fall for the challenge, raring for the chance to prove her wrong.

Ashido watched in stunned silence as Bakugou bit his lip. A tear streaked over his cheek slowly, and the girl felt her resolve immediately crumble. He dropped his head as his shoulders began to shake.

“Oh gosh, Dynamite I’m sorry!” She took two steps forward and pulled the boy into a hug. “I didn’t mean to be so harsh! You’re incredibly strong and I was hoping I could convince you to come clean about everything, but I know it’s not that simple. I didn’t mean to push too much.”

“It’s fucking pathetic.” Bakugou held her tightly. “I feel like a fucking coward, Mina. I’m not ready. I don’t wanna talk about it yet.”

“Kit Kat…” Kirishima pushed himself up from the couch and placed a comforting hand on Bakugou’s head, scratching gently at the boy’s scalp. “You and I have stories that we’re never really ready to tell. But sometimes we have to take a step back. We have to get away from our thoughts. I was so busy drowning in my own worries that I couldn’t see how much my silence was hurting you. This is kinda the same thing. You may not ever feel truly ready to tell people what’s going on, but the longer you keep it to yourself, the more you bottle it all up, the more you hurt yourself, and the more you hurt the people around you.”

“We want to help you, Katsuki. But in order to do that, you need to be willing to help yourself.” Ashido added on.

“I told Aizawa the rules, we’re all set when you are, dude.” Kaminari beamed up at Bakugou. Sero sent him a silent thumbs up. Aizawa was already situated on the floor with his head down, waiting for the others to join them.

Kirishima sent Bakugou a reassuring smile and led him to the floor. Ashido took the space next to Aizawa, sandwiching the blond in. She nodded to him encouragingly before turning towards the floor. Kirishima’s hand slid into his own, squeezing gently.

Bakugou opened his mouth and closed it a few times, not sure where to start. Not sure what to say. Anxiety rolled in his stomach and clawed at his chest, thinking of the outcomes, thinking of how this could all pan out. This was the first step to a better life. But what if it was a mistake? What could Aizawa actually do? Probably nothing. He was gonna be stuck with his mom anyway. He was late. He was supposed to be home right now. What if she took him out of UA? Aizawa wouldn’t be able to do anything! He wasn’t going to have the squad by his side! He’d be on his own… she’d be mad… she would know. She would find out that he had told someone! She would tell Dad! Dad would-

“I can’t do this!”

“My Dad’s a little neglectful,” Sero breathed out. “I think he tried his hardest but, I don’t know, it just… isn’t really enough for me. I hate it when he brings random women home. I hate it when he’s out really late. But I’m in the dorms now. I don’t have to deal with him, I don’t have to feel guilty about thinking he’s not doing enough. One day, I’ll be eighteen, and I’m gonna move out. My dad’s neglectful, but he’s not… abusive.”

Kirishima nodded, immediately picking up what Sero was putting down. “My parents are super nice. They take great care of me and the twins. They’re super compassionate and caring and I learned a lot from them, but I have a lot of secrets, though. There are a few things I’ve never worked up the courage to tell them about. Like… my own history of abuse and neglect. But I’m in a better place now, and I promise that if you find the strength and the courage to talk about this, then I'll find the strength to tell my moms about the science camp.”

Bakugou bit his lip, “Fuck, Ei.”

“We’ve got this, right Kat? Poprocks against the world.”

“My parents are fucking fucked. Well, Dad’s okay, but the Hag’s a goddamn nightmare. We argue at damn near every turn, and it never really works out for me… She… um… well… My quirk’s a little dangerous, and when it first manifested I couldn’t control it very well… so I had two rooms. I had the one upstairs next to theirs, and one in the basement, where the floor and the walls are all stone and I couldn’t set the house on fire. As a kid, when we argued, she’d take me to the basement and let me throw my tantrum, fire blasts around the room without care. When I got a little older… she wasn’t patient enough to wait them out, so she started… leaving. She started… locking me down there. Um… while we’re talking about my quirk, she has a rule that I’m not allowed to use my quirk on her or Dad. Two weeks ago, I kinda lost control. When I burn her, she gets to burn me. So if my hand burns her, she burns my hands…”

Kaminari’s leg bounced restlessly, Sero took a steadying breath, Ashido twirled a strand of hair around her finger, Kirishima nibbled his lip. Aizawa held his breath, waiting silently for the story to continue.

Ashido bit the bullet, nudging Bakugou slightly. “Tell him about the chores.”

“Oh. She, uh… She’s always given me my allowance after I do my chores. If I didn’t do my chores for a week because I was sick, or something, I didn’t get an allowance. Not a huge deal except I moved out. When they put the dorms in place she told me she wasn’t gonna pay for the extra room and board cost. If I wanted to stay at the school, and stay at the dorms, then I needed to work for it. So every other week I go home and take care of some cooking, and some laundry, cleaning, and all that other stuff. If I don’t… she says she won’t pay my tuition next year. If I don’t do what she says, she’s gonna pull me out of UA. And if I’m not in UA then I won’t be in the dorms.” His breath picked up. He broke the circle, picking his head up and flicking his gaze desperately over the others. “If I’m not in the dorms I’ll have to stay at home, if I’m at home, I’ll- she’ll- I’m… Eijirou! Ei! I’m supposed to be-!”

Aizawa picked up his head just in time to watch Bakugou’s entire body jolt when someone’s phone began to ring.

“Fuck!” He scrambled to pull the device out of his pocket.

“Is it her?” Kaminari leaned forward.

“Are you gonna answer it?” Sero questioned.

“Yes! Answer it!” Ashido responded.

“No! Definitely don’t!” Kirishima argued.

“Shut up!” Bakugou whined before starting to stand up.

“Dude! Don’t answer it!”

“What!? Why not? Put it on speaker!”

“It’s the proof we need for Aizawa!”

“Um, that business is between Bakubro and his mom, dude.”

“Well, does he answer it?”

“Yes!”

“No!!”

“Katsuki Bakugou! You have three seconds to tell me where you are and why the fuck you aren’t home yet!” Bakugou flinched away from the phone at the volume of her voice.

He almost looked over his shoulder at the ring of his friends still sitting on the floor, but he willed his racing heart to calm itself. Ignore them. Deal with her. “Chill the fuck out Hag, I’m at school.”

She scoffed, “School using too much of your brain? Can’t you count anymore? It’s been two weeks. I’m owed a visit, you ungrateful brat.”

“…You’re gonna have to wait.”

“Excuse me?”

He took a shaky breath. “I said… y-you’re gonna have to fucking wait. I’m busy.”

“You’ve got ten seconds to apologize. Every second you take gets you an hour in the room, are we understood? Don’t keep me waiting. I need you home.”

Bakugou bit his lip, terrified of the consequences, but… they were gonna protect him… right? “No.”

Mitsuki’s breath hitched. “Did you just tell me no?”

“I’m not gonna fucking apologize. I’m busy, and I’m staying at school this weekend. Leave me the fuck alone.”

“You’re really fucking stupid, you know that, brat? After everything I’ve done for your pathetic ass and this is what I get? I’ve taken care of you for the past fifteen years. Do you know how hard it is to be a good parent to a hellspawn of a child? You’ve gotten into so much trouble with your schools, you fight with other kids, you bully the ones who don’t fight back, and you seriously expect me to believe you somehow found people who want to hang out with you over the weekends? I know you’re just holing up in your room so you don’t have to spend time with me. That stops now. You just lost your privilege to stay. Every weekend you’re gonna come home with me where I can reteach you your goddamn manners. The door’s locked, you can spend the night outside for all I care, but tomorrow morning if your ass isn’t on the front porch, I’m gonna drive to your school and come pick you up myself. Do I make myself clear?”

Bakugou’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything. He knew he shouldn’t have done anything. He had just made everything a million times worse. She wanted him home every weekend?? But… Dad would be home then… Dad would find out! “I’m-”

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. He looked over to find Aizawa staring down at him. The man silently nodded to the phone. Bakugou dutifully handed it over.

“Well?? I’m waiting you fucking useless brat. Do you understand? Or do I need to remind you what the consequences for your actions are?”

“Your son will be staying with me this weekend, Mrs. Bakugou.”

“O-oh! Aizawa? Is that you? What are you-”

He hung up.

Bakugou stared with wide eyes at the phone. “D-did you just-”

“Yes.” He handed the phone back to the blond. “And now you’re going to block her number.”

“What!? I can’t! She’ll-”

“You can and you will. I’m gonna make a few calls of my own. Sit tight. And for fucks sake, relax kid. I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you.” With that, Aizawa stalked out of the room.

Kaminari blinked at the open door. “What just happened?”

Sero grinned. “Told ya he’d handle it.”

“He hasn’t handled anything yet!” Bakugou dropped back to the floor, burying his head in his hands. “She’s gonna be so mad. Block her?? Is he fucking insane!?”

“Hey, chill out,” Ashido soothed. “You haven’t blocked her yet, and besides, Aizawa said to relax. You’re not very good at relaxing, Dynamite. I thought you were supposed to be good at everything.”

“Suck me off, Raccoon Eyes.”

Kirishima smirked. “He’s only human, Mina.”

“Yeah I’m only hu- hey, you take that back, Shitty Hair.”

Kaminari burst into laughter. “There’s the almighty and powerful Lord Explosion Murder.”

“We should probably do something to relax.” Sero nudged Ashido and tilted his head towards Bakugou.

“Oh yeah! What can we do to take our minds off it?” The girl glanced over at Kaminari.

The blond lit up. “Ooh! Kiri!”

“What?”

“Dinosaur!”

“Oh, ummm… Rhinoceros!”

“Snake.” Sero cut in.

“Elephant!” Ashido beamed.

“Tiger.” Bakugou stared at his hands, going into focus mode.

Kaminari nodded his head, getting into the rhythm. “Raccoon.”

“Narwhal!”

“Leopard.”

“Dog!”

“Gecko.”

“Ostrich!”

“Hamster!” Kirishima bit his lip.

“Rabbit.”

“Turtle!”

“Echidna.”

“Aardvark!” Kaminari blurted.

“Kangaroo!”

“Orangutan.” Sero answered

“Giraffe!”

Bakugou’s brain stuttered. “What the fuck?”

“Elephant!”

Kirishima tilted his head. “Didn’t Mina already say elephant?”

Kaminari crossed his arms. “Kacchan messed up first!”

“Meens is out already anyway. Denki, start the next category for me.” Sero picked at his nail polish.

“WHAT?! What do you mean I’m out!? Did I repeat?”

“No but you fucking went from orangutan to a goddamn giraffe.”

“So?”

“Mina, orangutan ends in an N.” The raven smirked at her.

“No way! Wait, really!? I thought it was ‘orangutang!’”

“Shut up, shut up! I’m gonna start! Animaniacs.”

“Ah wait! I’m not ready! Uh… Umm… uh- STEVEN UNIVERSE!”

Sero smoothly carried on. “Ed, Edd, n Eddy.”

“Young Justice!”

Bakugou blinked at the floor. “…fuck… I don’t know any other E’s…”

“Woah, we got Bakubro already?”

“What about Enchanted?” Kirishima supplied.

“That’s a movie, stupid. We were doing TV shows.”

“Oh, my bad.”

“Fuck, alright. Take it Raccoon Eyes.”

Ashido thought for a moment. “Purple.”

“Fuckin- Eggshell.”

“Lavender.”

“RED! RED!! Oh my god I’m so happy I got red!”

“D-Denim blue,” Sero bullshitted.

“Eggplant,” Ashido giggled.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Turquoise.”

“Eeeeeeeelephant.” Kaminari hung his head in shame. “Dammit.”

“Aw damn, that means it’s Blasty’s start.” Kirishima scratched his neck nervously.

Bakugou grinned maliciously. “…Hydrogen.”

“NEON!!” Kaminari cheered.

“N-n… nebula. I don’t know!! Why do you always do hard stuff!” Kirishima whined.

Sero covered his smile with his hand. “It’s okay Kiri, Kami’s next, which means it’ll be a cake walk.”

“Oh yeah?” The blond challenged. “Basil.”

“Lavender?” Kirishima questioned. “We used it as a color. Does that count as a repeat?”

“Nah.” Sero supplied. “Rosemary.”

“Y-ucca?” Ashido stumbled over the pronunciation.

“Aloe.”

“EUCALYPTUS!” Kaminari cheered.

“What are you idiots doing?”

All heads whipped towards the door where Aizawa was standing, eyes narrowed at the problem children like they had all grown two more heads, each.

Bakugou quickly scrambled to his feet again. “Sensei, I-”

“Bakugou, I know you didn’t block her number like I asked.” Aizawa crossed his arms.

“Well… I…”

“Block her. You’re not talking to her again unless you decide to. She’s abusive, and I refuse to let any of that continue.”

“But what about-”

“I talked to Nezu. We’re placing you under protective custody of the school for the time being. You’ll be permanently housed in the dorms until summer.”

“So what happens when-”

“You’ll be moving in with Hizashi, Hitoshi, Eri, and myself when the dorms close up.”

Bakugou blinked at his teacher a little dumbly. “Just… just like that?”

Aizawa’s shoulders dropped a little. His face took on a softer look as he kept his eyes locked on his student. “More or less. There’s obviously lots of paperwork involved, but as long as it’s something you’d want, it’ll be no trouble to fill it all out. I can place you under my own custody. No more burns, no more weird chores, no more verbal assaults. Hizashi and I want to take care of you.

“D-don’t I have to… I don’t know… do something? Do you need me to-”

“Katsuki. You’re only fifteen. You’ve done enough. You leave the rest of it to us. We will handle it. I promise.”

The blond stared at him, disbelief swimming in his eyes. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“I… don’t have to go home anymore?”

Aizawa shook his head. “Not unless you want to.”

“But what about the dorm cost? Is it all payed off?”

“Katsuki… there was no extra fee for the dorms. She probably made that up to keep you at her house.”

Bakugou sat on the couch, letting himself sink into the cushions. “So… all this time she-” tears welled up in his eyes. “But I don’t have to go back?”

“You don’t have to go back.”

An incredible weight lifted off his shoulders as he folded in on himself. The squad was immediately around him, smothering him in hugs and love.

Kirishima’s tears fell on his shoulder. “Did you hear that, Kat? She can’t hurt you. Never again.”

“Squad night can be every week now!” Kaminari cheered against his back. “You don’t have to leave anymore!”

“I’m so happy for you.” Ashido sniffled into his neck.

“Fuck yeah, dude!” Sero squeezed him tightly. “You’re all ours.”

Katsuki wrapped his arms around his friends, holding them tightly together, basking in their warm glow.

“…Thank you guys.”

#silent gossip #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #kaminari denki #sero hanta #ashido mina #bakusquad #fanfic #my writing

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 4:

You’re paranoid. 

Terribly, terribly paranoid, and even if you’re aware of it, there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Nothing you can do to quell the anxiety that wells up every time another person enters your space. Every time their skin nearly brushes yours, even accidentally, just for a split second.

It’s maddening. Nearly debilitating the way you’re flinching away from people. You can see your co-workers notice too, fellow nurses suddenly giving you odd looks every time you reject a high five. Even when you’re wearing your gloves. It’s just a panic reaction at this point- a fixation on trying to keep your quirk as least exhaustive an experience as it can be. 

On one hand, you still really dislike Bakugou- nearly hate him for bringing it up to you- but, on the other hand, he did manage to figure it out. He somehow managed to figure out what you never could, and all in a matter of minutes from your relatively short interactions. It made you think that maybe he could be really smart- if he didn’t spend so much time killing his own brain-cells with every juvenile insult he spewed at you. 

You wondered if that was just him, or he really did hate you that much. Surely he couldn’t be that much of a monster to other people, right? Right? 

Wrong. 

You remember Kirishima, how he apologized for Bakugou nearly the second he walked through the door. It hits you then that you’re definitely not the first person he’d seemed to mercilessly terrorize- you’re not sure if that makes you feel better or worse.

Actually, on second thought, maybe it makes you feel worse. No, it definitely makes you feel worse. So much worse, in fact, that just the sight of his face nearly sends you into an irrational rage. Even now, weeks after the last time he’d personally ruined your day, you were still mad. Still angry. Still cursing every time you saw those red eyes on every billboard, newspaper, and billboard in town.

Well, lucky for you, you didn’t have to look at those printed eyes anymore. Not when the real ones were right in front of you- scaring you shitless as you leave the hospital. 

You had left the hospital from the back exit, tired and crabby from your late shift, grumbling as you stepped out into the alleyway. You’d hardly seen him, just the slightest glimpse of movement behind the tall dumpsters, before he’s practically in your face.

“Jesus!” You gasp, curling your arms around your stomach. Your legs feel like jelly. “Don’t do that! Scared me half to death!”

“Oh, chill the hell out, ya fuckin’ baby. You’re fine.” Bakugou rolls his eyes, falling into step next to you.

He looks worse for the wear, just like every other time you’ve seen him, exhaustion coloring his complexion something sickly. There’s an angry purple bruise covering his cheek, a few cuts, and even more bruising dotting his scarred knuckles. A tiny, vindictive part of you thinks it serves him right, but you keep it to yourself. You’re better than that.

You want to be nice to him, truly you do, but he’s made it pretty hard. Concerning you, Bakugou’s pretty much dug his grave at this point, and he only makes it worse with his next works.

“You need to do something for me.” He orders suddenly. “Now.”

“A-are you asking me? For help? Is that what this is?”

“What? No- obviously fucking not.” He sneers, nostrils flaring. “Why the hell would I go and do something like that. That’s stupid. Weak.”

“Oh. Okay. So then two seconds ago, when you were telling me that I ‘need’ to do something for you, what was that?” You squint your eyes at him, eyebrow twitching with annoyance. “That wasn’t you asking for help?”

“No. ‘s an order.”

“Oh. Yeah. Okay- an order. Because you’re totally in a position to make those.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.” You spin on your heels, nearly crashing into his chest since he followed so closely behind you. Still, you figure the promixity is all the better for gesturing, so you don’t miss a beat, waving your hands emphatically. “My shift just ended, alright? That means I’m not on the clock, and you’re not a patient. I don’t have to suck it up and help you unless I want to. Understand?”

Bakugou seems to bristle at your tone, eyes narrowing as his lip curls. You just try to shrug it off. If he wants to be mad in the middle of the alley, fine- but you’ve had a long day and you’re going home. You spin around again, walking briskly into the street, and it takes him a few moments to catch up.

“I told you, Bakugou, I’m not helping you just because you tried to order me to.”

“I know.”

“Then what’re you doing?”

“Walking.”

It’s his tone; that same needling, challenging edge to it that has your blood boiling. If anyone else said that, you’d probably believe it. But he’s not just walking and Bakugou’s smirk makes that very clear.

“No. You’re following me.”

“Same fuckin’ direction. Sue me, leech.”

The street lamps cast spots that yellow out his already pale skin, and the longer you walk the more withered he looks. Bakugou seems utterly burnt out, and when you look really close, all his features are slumped. It’s a stark contrast to Dynamite’s turbo-charged public persona, and it makes you wonder why he’d even let you see him like this at all. You figure whatever it is must be making him pretty desperate.

Suddenly that same, sinking, sympathetic feeling has you letting up a bit. You slow your pace, catching his gaze as you internally curse your own soft heart.

“Okay. Fine. What’s up. What can I help you with?”

Bakugou squints his eyes, almost like he doesn’t believe you. You think that’s a little fair- most times, even you can hardly believe all that you’re capable of forgiving.

“Sleep.” He finally says, bitten out tightly under his breath. 

“You want me to help you sleep?”

“Yes. Obviously.” 

“Not obvious.” 

“Would be if you weren’t such a shitty nurse.”

“If that’s supposed to be a dig- save it.” You roll your eyes, trying to tamper down the irritation. “I did notice. That you look tired. Just didn’t mention it out of kindness, so don’t think you can start bringing my skills into question.” 

You turn down another side street, and Bakugou follows. There’s less light so you miss the way his eyes scan the lurking shadows; intense and immediate, like a habit he can’t help himself from indulging in. 

“You really live around here?” He suddenly asks, voice low and gruff.

“Yep. In the apartment complexes just up there.” You point off into the distance. “Why-”

“And your shift always end this late?”

“Yes?”

“God,” He laughs something disbelieving under his breath, rolling his eyes at you. “I was fuckin’ right. You really are the stupidest goddamn person walking the planet.”

“That’s- Do you ever think about your words? Seriously!” You huff, curling your fists. You hope it’ll quell your sudden urge to hit him. “Just because you think it, doesn’t mean you should say it! And who the hell are you to judge anyway-”

“You’re fuckin’ asking to be attacked. That’s stupid. ”

“By who?”

“Weirdos, idiot.”

“You’re the weirdo! You’re the one following me home right now!”

“I’m not following you-”

“Really? You’re not? Because right now, the way you’re walking? Maybe all of two steps behind me? On a dark street? At night? Sort of seems like creepy following is exactly what you’re doing!”

“I told you, you need to do something for me. Not leaving till you do.” He grumbles, digging a bruised knuckle into his temples. “And keep it the fuck down. Your screaming sounds like a dying animal.”

“My-” You seethe for a moment, hardly able to stand his attitude. Then you take a breath because you prided yourself on being a kind person, and kind people do not kill national heroes- even when they’re being asses. “You know, it is almost unbelievable how bad you are at asking for help.”

“Told ya, already. ‘m not fuckin’ asking for help.” 

“Then why are you even here bothering me? Go bother someone else!”

“If fuckin’ anyone else could do anythin’, believe me, I’d go to them instead.”

“God, do you even understand how rude that is?” You ask him incredulously, hand grasping at the door to your apartment building. “No, seriously, are you even aware of what you sound like to other people?”

“Not my fuckin’ problem that other people are sensitive.” 

Your eyes bulge at that, mouth nearly dropping in disbelief. You couldn’t believe him. You just couldn’t believe that a single person could possibly go through life with that callous of a mentality. It was insanity. Pure insanity. 

“So, leech, you gonna put me to fuckin’ sleep or not?” 

Just kidding- that was insanity. That sentence alone was proof of just how ridiculous your life had gotten since he’d crash landed into it. 

Bakugou seems to realize his words simultaneously, his cheeks flushing red under the outdoor lights. You almost laugh, but then he’s glaring, eyes sternly set and murderous. For a moment, you really believe he was gonna blow you up right where you were standing. 

“Say a goddamn word. Do it. I fuckin’ dare you. Leech.” He sneers. “Try me.”

“At this hour? No, uh, no thanks.”

Bakugou does seem to relax at your joke, albeit begrudgingly. He drops his shoulders, rolling his eyes, and clears his throat. “Now, seriously, you gonna fuckin’ do it or not?”

A part of you wants to say no- to hold your gift over his head, to lord it just out of reach until he figures out how to not insult you with every breath. Then you think of your job, of all the civilians who come in swearing up and down that Dynamite was a hero. And you believe them, truly, but you think that Bakugou has a long way to go. An especially long way.

But, even so, your fingers are itching again in your gloves. There’s that urge coursing through your veins, your thoughts a constant loop of heal, help, save and so it’s decided. Quickly. Almost like it was never even a question in the first place- and, knowing yourself, you suppose it never really was.

“Fine. I will. On one condition.”

“Condition? When the fuck did I say it was a negotiation. It’s not.” 

“It is and I’ll tell you why.” You spin to face him completely, jumping back when you find him much closer than expected. Your retreat till your back hits the door, but you feel no less cramped than before. “You need me. You do. Don’t bother denying it because you wouldn’t be here otherwise. And the funny thing is, I would’ve done it! Would’ve done it entirely free of charge if you just asked nicely, and-”

“Will you get to the fuckin’ point already?”

“See! That! That’s why there’s a condition! Because you’re needlessly rude! All the time from what I’ve seen. And that’s got to change. Especially if you’re gonna ask for my help more than just this one time.” 

“God- how many fuckin’ times do I need to make this clear to you? Hah?” Bakugou growls, leaning in even more. You can see it in his wild eyes- he’s trying to scare you, crowding you against the door. “I’m not asking. I’m telling you- You don’t make the fuckin’ rules here.” 

“In this I do.” You swallow nervously, trying not to let your intimidation show. “So you’re gonna listen. My condition is this- if you want me to help you, then you have to learn to play nice. That means no names, no insults, no threats, no complaints, and no attitude. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.” 

Bakugou swears under his breath, eyes blazing as he holds his stare. Truthfully, it makes you nervous, but you’re not one to back down. At least, not when there’s no threat of job loss involved. So you just squint back at him, jutting your jaw out in defiance. There’s a tense few seconds of silence, his eyes searching, but then he backs off. Nostrils flaring like a bull, Bakugou relents. 

“Fuckin’ fine. Whatever. Jesus.” He swears, hand curling into a fist at his side. “If you’re gonna be such a bitc-”

“I said, no names, Bakugou.”

He just rolls his eyes, face so very pinched, and you briefly wonder if he’s going to explode. There’s anger as he suddenly shoves you away from the door, yanking it open and letting himself into the building. Then he’s stomping through the lobby, and you’re hardly able to catch up by the time Bakugou stops in front of the elevator. 

“What fuckin’ floor, leech?”

“Once again, I said no names. None. Especially not that one.” You tell him sternly, trying to keep your voice down. “And you didn’t agree. You’re not following me and I’m not helping you unless you agree.”

If possible, you think Bakugou’s expression grows even more irritated, his eyes widening as he sets his jaw. Another few seconds pass, and when he sees you won’t relent, Bakugou nods. It’s tight and strained, stunted like the acquiescence physically pains him. 

“God, you’re lucky I’m nice.” You tell him, nearly stabbing the elevator button as you press it. “Really lucky.”  

“And you’re lucky I don’t have enough energy to beat the shit out of you right now.” 

“No threats, Bakugou. You agreed.” You say easily, stepping into the elevator as it opens. 

“Had to. Because your fuckin’ terms are bullshit.” 

“Hey, no complaints. You agreed to that too.” 

You think you hear something strangled leave his mouth, but it’s swallowed up by the sound of the elevator ascending. 

Now that you’re standing in better lighting, you can see Bakugou’s face clearly. He looked bad before, but he looks worse now. There wasn’t just one bruise on his face, there was multiple- his jaw colored burgundy and his nose and lip split open. There was no blood, but there wasn’t a lot of scabbing either. It was new. These injuries were new.

You think back to that first visit- when he told you he never really got hurt. You wonder what’s been going so wrong for him lately. It seemed like all he’d done since you’d met him was get hurt. 

“Stop fuckin’ staring.”

“I-I’m not. Not like that.” You say. “I’m assessing. You’re gonna need a butterfly bandage, on your nose- skin moves too much. And a cold compress for your jaw. Maybe some disinfectant on your lip. Probably should get your knuckles wrapped too and-”

“Jesus, I fuckin’ get it.”

You roll your eyes, ready to retort, but then the elevator dings. You walk out into the hallway, Bakugou trailing behind you like a shadow. It’s not until you’re at your door, twisting your key into the lock, that you pause.

You’re about to enter your apartment, with Bakugou of all people. A guy you’re not even sure can tolerate you. And yet you’re doing it- because he needs help. Because he looks like walking death and you’ve got a first aid kit under your bathroom sink. Because he’s pretty much proved himself to be an irredeemable asshole, but yet you still can’t bring yourself to leave him out in the cold.

Because you’re an empath, and that, by default, makes you an idiot.

You turn the key. Bakugou, to his credit, looks a little uneasy, but then you’re waving him through the door, and pushing it shut behind him. 

“So, you wait here.” You gesture towards your couch, moving aside a few pillows to make him room to sit. “I’m gonna go get all that stuff I talked about.”

“So, what, you’re just like playing fuckin’ nice nurse again, now?”

“Bakugou. No attitude please- I am nice, okay? All the time. Or, at least when others are nice to me.” You say, levelling him with an unimpressed look. “And even if they’re not, I still don’t like seeing them hurt. Not if I can do something about it.”

“I don’t want your fuckin’ help.”

“No, but you need it. And since you’re too stubborn to ask for it, I’m just gonna have to force it on you.”

“Do you even fuckin’ hear yourself?” Bakugou prickles, voice rising. “Acting like a goddamn savior. Like you’re so fuckin’ good and holy. It’s bullshit.”

“It’s not.” You say flatly. Then you’re pivoting on your heels, leaving him behind and you grab the first aid kit. You open the bathroom door, calling over your shoulder. “And if you have such a problem with it, then leave. Nobody is keeping you here.”

You hear Bakugou swear again, so angry and seething that you almost believe he’ll take you up on your offer; but then you hear footsteps across the floor, the creaking of your couch.

You reach under your sink, pulling out the kit and a few extra rags for a compress. When you look in the mirror there’s exhaustion lacing your features, your eyes worn and dark with bags. The sight makes a part of you want to forget it all- makes you want to surrender to the ache in your bones and tell him to leave; but that’s just a small part. The larger part is telling you that you’re not spent until you’re unconscious, and that right now, Bakugou looks a whole lot worse than you feel. It’s telling you to hurry up and help him and you agree. 

When you walk back out, supplies in hand, Bakugou’s slumped on your couch. He’s got his head tilted over the back, one hand resting on his stomach and the other thrown over his eyes. He shifts at the sound of your approach, dropping his hand and as blinks blearily. You think his eyes look a little duller than before- less like raging wildfire and more like smothered embers. If you didn’t know any better it would look like begruding acceptance- but this was Bakugou, and you knew better.

“So,” You start, setting all of your things down on the couch next to him. “You wanna go to sleep now? Or wait until after I fix up pretty much the entirety of your face?” 

He looks at you unsurely, eyebrows creasing.

“Wait, actually- how are you planning to get home?” You continue, hands on your hips. “Where do you even live? Around here? Close? Because you were out in like, 10 minutes, maybe, the last time I touched you, so it’s gotta be close. You live close right? Because-”

“God, cool it with the fuckin’ word vomit. Shit’s annoying. Shut up.” He grumbles. “I’m sleeping here.”

“Who decided? You?”

“Yeah. Obviously.”

“Bakugou.” You balk, striding closer to the back of your couch. You lean over him, forcing him meet your eyes. “This is what I’m talking about! With the learning to play nice thing! I would’ve let you stay here, I would’ve, had you asked. You can’t just bulldoze your way into my house and refuse to leave!” 

“Yeah? ‘n just what the fuck are you gonna do about it if I do?” He scoffs, curling his lip as he snarls. “Nothing. Because you’re so fuckin’ nice, right?”

“Don’t say it like that. It’s not a bad trait and I won’t have you insulting it. I’m not embarrassed of who I am.” You try to work through your frustration, centering yourself with a deep breath. “Look, bottom line is, ask next time. Or I’m not helping you until you do.” 

“Fine. Whatever.”

You try to shrug off his petulant response, taking another calming breath as you shuck off your gloves. You replace them with latex ones from the kit, pulling the material over your fingers as you grab the antiseptic wipes. You decide to start around the cut on his nose. It’s the largest and widest, spanning over the entirety of his bridge and into his right cheek. It’s a nasty thing, deep and red, all exposed nerves beneath a thin scab and you can tell it hurts him. Bakugou fights to keep from wincing, eyes scrunching slightly as you wipe the remnants of dirt and oil from his skin. 

“This from another villan?” You ask calmly, finding an easy peace in performing familiar tasks. “One today?”

“Cuts are from today. Bruises were yesterday.”

Blinking down at him, you’re a little surprised by how easy his answer was. You expected him to fight, to be difficult just because he could, but Bakugou wasn’t doing that. He was lying relatively and still and sated under your fingertips, the only sign of any tension are his minutely pinched eyebrows. Briefly, you check your gloves- for a moment there you were sure you’d accidentally touched him.

“Oh. Okay.” You reply, taking a small butterfly bandage from your kit. You press it over the cut with gentle pressure. “How’s the other guy look?”

“Fuckin’ terrible. Beat ‘em to hell.”

“I’m sure you did.” You snort, moving on to clean the cut on his lip. “Hey, you wanna know something?”

Bakugou peeks a red eye open, studying your face above him. He nods.

“I actually end up treating a lot of your victims, you know.” 

“Criminals. Not victims.”

“Mhm. Sure. Well, either way, they’re always covered in burns. Mostly minor, but sometimes pretty nasty ones.” You try to keep your voice light, even and steady as you dab at his lip. “Honestly, at this point, I’m pretty sure you’re entirely responsible for the hospital’s chronic burn-cream shortage.”

Bakugou does seem to smile at that, exhaling through his nose as his eyes flutter briefly. “Wouldn’t be fuckin’ short if people just stopped tryin’ to pull stupid shit all the time. ‘s not my fault they’re so fuckin’ bad at running away.” 

“Bakugou.” You balk, unable to keep the laugh from bubbling out your lips. “You can’t say that!’ 

“Why the fuck not? Hah? It’s true.” 

“Because! You’re supposed to be playing nice, remember?”

“Yeah. To you.” He mumbles, voice rough and raspy. “Because you fuckin’ schemed your way into forcing me. They didn’t.” 

“Okay- First, I’m like, pretty sure schemed and forced are the same thing, so we definitely don’t need to say them both. It’s just overkill. Second, that’s a borderline insult, so I’m gonna need you to watch your mouth. And third,” You cradle his jaw in your fingers, turning it to the side. “How the hell did you manage to get a bruise behind your ear?”

“I don’t know- probably the same way you somehow managed to become a nurse; even with such shitty fuckin’ bedside manner. You suck, leech.”

Your jaw drops. 

“Bakugou!”

He cracks his eyes open, something small and pleased settling at the corner of his mouth. There’s almost as much venom in his voice as before but his eyes are softer now. They’re kinder, crinkling just slightly at the edges. 

He’s joking. You realize. He doesn’t actually mean it. Not this time.

“You dick.” You reprimand, flicking his hairline lightly. “You absolute dick.”

His eyes just seem to grow a little brighter at that, just for a second, and then he’s shutting them again. There’s still a smirk on his face though- one you’d swear you’d slap off if he wasn’t actually being somewhat pleasant right now. For once in his life, it seemed. 

“Alright,” You announce, rounding the couch quickly. “Your knuckles look just as bad so give ‘em.”

“No thanks.”

“It wasn’t really a suggestion.”

“I don’t need anymore of your pity help, leech.”

“It’s not pity. Not even a little bit.” You sigh. “Look, I know you’re not gonna understand this, but I seriously cannot chill the hell out without at least trying to take care of people. My quirk makes my fingers literally itch when I see injuries. They itch and they don’t stop itching until I do something about it. Helping people, healing people, is hard-wired into me- it’s as much something I do for me as it is something I do for others.” 

Bakugou’s eyes widen at that. He sits a little straighter, fists clenching as he presses them into the cushions. A few beats pass and then he’s grumbling, throwing himself back as he thrusts both of his injured knuckles forward.

“God, you’re so fucking irritating.” He gripes. “If you’re gonna be such a weirdo about it, then get the hell to it already.” 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, instead kneeling next to your coffee table and settling on the ground. You take his hands in yours, bending all his fingers to make sure nothing is broken. When nothing is, you look up at Bakugou, planning to tell him the good news, but he’s already looking at you. Your eyes meet, and he blinks, once, twice, before averting his eyes quickly. You think that maybe he blushes too, but he turns his head so sharply you’re almost convinced you imagined it.

You just try to shrug it off, focusing your attention back on his hands. You notice how warm they are again, nearly feverish and strangely unblemished. When you start rubbing bruise cream over knuckles, kneading the joints between your fingers, Bakugou sighs slumps back into the couch. He closes his eyes once more.

“Are you falling asleep?”

“No. Can’t. Fuckin’ told ya already.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me why.” You set his hands back on the couch, moving instead to unravel a bandage. “Not that I won’t help you, but have you tried any other remedies? Melatonin? Or lavender? Maybe chamomile? Any of those?”

“Mhm. Falling asleep isn’t the problem.”

“Then what is?” 

 He opens his eyes, squinting at you from above. “None of your fuckin’ business.” 

“Bakugou, I’m trying to help here.”

“I don’t want-”

“Yeah. I know. You don’t want it. Or you don’t want to rely on it. I get it. But you wouldn’t have even came here if you didn’t absolutely need it, right?” You insist, grabbing his hands into yours again. “God, you know, I’ve had toddlers who were more cooperative than you. Why’re you so difficult?”

“I’m not fuckin’ difficult.”

“No. You’re difficult. Very difficult.” 

“And you’re fuckin’ annoying. Do me a favor and go back to being nice.” 

“Nope. Sorry. Pretty sure you didn’t like me then either.” You start wrapping the bandage around his knuckles, taking extra care to apply the right pressure. “And I was only nice to you because I was working, you know. I’m only actually nice to the people who deserve it.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes at that.

You finish wrapping the bandage, securing it into place with a bit of medical adhesive. All things considered, Bakugou looks better than before. Or at least, better than the death incarnate he’d been portraying himself as.

“All done.” You smile, turning away to start packing up your supplies.

“Finally. Took ya fuckin’ long enough.” 

“God, you are literally devoid of manners, aren’t you?” 

“Yeah. ‘s part of not bein’ an absolute bitch.”

You gawk, spinning around to face him. Bakugou’s relaxed into your couch, arms laid across the back leisurely as he smiles. There’s that same softness to his eyes from before, the crinkling just at the edges.

“Wow.” You scoff, smiling sarcastically. “You really think you’re so funny don’t you?” 

“I do.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Yeah. Because you’re fuckin’ brainless.”

“Brainless? Me? Swear to god, you only know, like, three words and all of them are probably swears!” 

Bakugou just shrugs, looking abnormally pleased. Content even. You figure that’s probably right for someone like him- only happy when everyone around him is devolving into chaos.

“Actually, you know what, I think I’m done yelling for the night.” You say, shucking your gloves off. You wiggle your fingers at him, a smirk plastered across your face. “I think it’s time you’re euthanized, don’t you?”

Bakugou just blinks, minutely shrinking away from you.

“Because you said you wanted me to put you to sleep, right? To put you down. Like a dog.” You continue, nearing him, coming close even as his lip curls up. Bakugou is glaring fully now, fists clenched, and you stop just a few inches out of his reach. “Or, you know, in ruder terms- not a dog, but a bitch.”

Bakugou snarls, lunging at you as you duck away. He’s fast but you’re faster, vaulting behind your couch to create some distance. There’s fire in his eyes, blazing and hot in his irises, but it isn’t scary. If you look close enough, you’re almost sure it’s just warmth. That same rare amusement from earlier.

“You leech. Swear to fuck I’ll make you regret that. Say your goddamn prayers!” 

“Touch me and you’ll fall asleep!” You tease. “Or I’ll use my quirk and see into your brain. So I guess it’s more of a ‘pick your poison’ for you, really.” 

“It’ll be the same for you.” Bakugou growls, hands grasping the back of the couch as he leans in towards you. “Open casket or closed, it’s still gonna be your fuckin’ funeral.” 

“Really?”

“Really. Leech.”

“No thanks.”

“What the fuck do you mean ‘no thanks’,” Bakugou mimics your voice, his features twisting. “I’m killing you. You’re dead. You don’t get a choice.” 

“No, I really think I do.”

“And just what the fuck makes you so goddamn confident?”

“This. You not attacking me.” You smile easily, voice daring as you stare right back at him. “If you really wanted me dead, I’d be dead. Isn’t that right, Dynamite?” 

The name sends Bakugou recoiling, shrinking backwards and scoffing in outright shock. You watch him stumble, legs hitting your coffee table and nearly causing him to fold. He recovers quickly though, albeit with his cheeks flushing wildly. 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

“Nah. Thanks for the offer though.” You smile brightly, before throwing your arms above your head and yawning widely. “As fun as that was, I’m pretty tired. You ready to fall asleep, yet?”

“Jesus fuck, yes. That’s the entire goddamn reason I’m even here. Idiot.”

“No name calling. You agreed.”

“I didn’t agree to shit.”

“You did.” You affirm. “Now, c’mon, like last time, hold your hand out.” 

With surprisingly little dramatics or resistance, Bakugou listens. He thrusts one of his bandaged hands forward as he sits on the couch again. When you touch his fingers, you feel that faint warmth again. Like fire and embers coursing through your bloodstream. It’s uncomfortable, a relentless sensation that has you cringing. You briefly wonder what it would be like to always live with it. Like Bakugou seems to. 

His eyes flutter shut just like last time, and you can see the way he staggers. It’s like the fight leaves him entirely, and then he’s falling boneless into the couch. You can hardly place a pillow onto the cushions before he’s driving his head into it.

“Jesus,” You mutter in disbelief. “How long has it been since you slept? You look dead.” 

“Weeks.” Bakugou mumbles.

“Since the last time?” 

“Mhm.”

If his words alone didn’t confirm the severity of his sleeplessness for you, his response time did. Bakugou answered quickly, without fight, like he’d been wanting to spill for the entire night. And, you suppose, maybe he did; or was trying to. In hindsight, you begin to realize a lot of his screaming could just as easily have read as cries for help- not that you’d ever tell him that. You’d probably have to prepare a will if you ever tried telling him that.

“You want a blanket?” You ask a little unsurely, not exactly confident in your approach to this entirely different Bakugou. “All you’re getting is the couch, but I could probably scrounge up a few blankets.”

Bakugou doesn’t respond. All you hear in response are tiny little snores and slow breathing. 

You find it reminds you of the last time- the way you’re reaching into a cupboard and grabbing out a blanket for him. Except this time, it’s a little bit different. Somehow you’re settling the blanket over him with a little bit of genuine kindness instead of begrudging sympathy.

After all, you can’t help but feel a little bit of pity- no one would ever fall asleep that fast unless they really needed it. Especially not in a stranger’s house. 

--/--

enjoy my lovelies :))

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[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 7:

You don’t see him for nearly four weeks.

Apparently, Bakugou actually listening to your request was a one time deal- and you’d already used it up a month ago.

You watch him though- once again leafing through newspapers and headlines and hero highlights. Day by day he looks a little more angry, high-strung and volatile as he brushes aside nosy press and zealous citizens. He’s never mean to them, Dynamite never is, but he is short- no longer sticking around to bask in the praises so many seem to heap onto him. You begin to think that maybe that’s a hint of Bakugou showing though; a bit of whoever he is when he shows up at your door. The thought leaves you checking your balcony at night, hoping and praying not to see him standing there half-dead.

You think you understand now: no matter what he agreed to, Bakugou was still trying to fix his problems himself. And that’s perfectly fine, you know full well you’re not anyone special, but still, a part of you can’t help but hurt for him. Can’t help but wish he wasn’t so intent on running himself ragged for the entire world to see. 

When you see him next, Bakugou is knocking on your balcony door. Knuckles against the glass, sluggish and slow as he wraps another arm around his abdomen. He’s still in costume, but forgoing the mask- it’s hard to miss the purpling under his eyes, even harder to miss the blood dried up across his forehead.

“C’mon, did we not just have this conversation?” You sigh, ushering him in quickly. “The whole reason I told you to start coming over more often is because of this. Believe it or not, but I actually take no joy out of seeing you hurt.”

“Yeah. Whatever. Stop complaining. It’s a few busted knuckles and some blood- no need to bitch about it like I’m fuckin’ dying.”

Bakugou shuffles past you, hunched over and slow. He’s grunting, huffing in pain, twitching fingers clutching at the seared edge of his costume. There’s a hole burned through the material. His exposed ribs are covered in pink, angry skin.

“No, it’s burns too. Apparently.” You tell him, hovering just behind him. You help him settle on your couch. “Sit tight, I’ll go get the first aid kit. Maybe a few damp towels too.”

You follow a quick routine, gathering your med kit, and dampening a few towels with cool water. You’re back at his side in record time, cracking and shaking an instant cold-compress between your fingers. You wrap it in a towel, handing it to him.

“Just hold it. And don’t fight, please. If your knuckles swell up anymore it’s just going to be an even bigger mess for me.” You stare him down until he relents. “Actually, on second thought- wait on that. Take your shirt off first.”

“What the hell? No.”

“What do you mean, no? You’re wasting time, just take it off already. The burn isn’t gonna clean itself up and I can’t help you if all the fabric is in the way and I-“ 

You pause, looking up at his face. Bakugou won’t meet your eyes but he’s blushing. Just slightly, but you see it and you roll your eyes.

“Seriously? Now is literally the worst time for shame. Just do it. I don’t care. I see people’s bodies every day of my life.”

It’s Bakugou’s turn to roll his eyes, but then he huffs, sitting taller. He sucks in a harsh breath, biting out a curse as he shifts, arms rigid and tight when he shucks the costume off.

Under normal circumstances- you would probably be flustered. Although you were telling the truth, you did see people’s bodies every day, theirs never looked like Bakugou’s. Never looked like his defined pectorals and utterly ridiculous abs. Fortunately though, this wasn’t normal circumstances. Instead of smooth skin, Bakugou was covered in a large burn. A nasty looking one sprawling wide across his ribs, lines of irritation continuing to crawl red and angry up his back. You wouldn’t focus on anything but that.

“Sorry if this hurts. Really. But I have to.” You mutter, pressing a cool rag to the burn.

Bakugou sucks a breath, hissing before he screws his eyes shut. You try to apply gentle pressure, but even so, you’re sure it still hurts. It must if he’s hardly even fighting your treatment.

“The good news is, it’s only second degree.” You murmur, removing the rag gently, careful not to accidently drag it against his skin. “But, it’s across your ribs so it’ll probably hurt while you’re doing just about anything.”

“Coulda told you that my fuckin’ self.”

“I’m just saying. Just telling you what I think. Can I- can I ask you something though?”

He opens his eyes, squinting for a moment before he nods.

“It’s- I’m not sure how to say this, but these look identical to the burns you cause. Did you- did you do this to yourself?” You ask softly, delicately. “Are these from your quirk?”

Bakugou’s glare seems to intensify, red eyes seething and angry. You try not to shrink up, but truth be told, Bakugou cut an intimidating figure. A moment passes, and then he relents- eyes softening just a tiny bit as he averts them.

“Villain had a stupid quirk. Called it repel or some shit. Got blasted before I even knew what was happening.”

“So they’re yours, sort of, but not really. That’s alright. I only asked out of curiosity. Wasn’t trying to insinuate anything.”

“Yeah whatever, leech.”

“Hey, can you at least try to be nice to me?”

“No.”

“Yeah, probably should’ve guessed you’d say that.” You sigh, before backing away from him. You turn, digging through the first aid kit to find some gauze and medical tape. “Alright, sit up for me.”

Bakugou grunts, but does as he’s told. He hisses when the burned skin shifts, and you feel sorry for him all over again. It truly did look painful.

“Hey- uh, do you,”

“Spit it out already.”

“You barely let me even start- actually, you know what? Never mind. What I was gonna ask was,” You pause, looking up at him. “It looks like it hurts. Do you want my help? Like, my quirk I mean.”

“Fuck no.”

Bakugou’s face contorts into a sneer, jaw set and lips drawn thin across sharp teeth. He looks wild, and the tiredness in his eyes isn’t helping.

“Okay- okay, I get it. I won’t. I was just asking.” You assure, pressing some gauze lightly over the burn. Bakugou hisses again, and you wish he’d just let you help him already. “But really, it looks like it hurts, and I can see how tired you are on top of that. The option’s open, is all I’m saying. I wouldn’t mind.”

He just nods tightly before averting his eyes. You try to smile reassuringly at him, but something still doesn’t sit right with you. Maybe it’s the way his eyes look panicked, darting and tracking every shadow of your apartment, or maybe it’s the slight tremors you can feel under your fingertips. You wonder what happened- if he’d even tell you at all.

You shake the thought from your head, making quick work with the gauze. With gentle pressure you cover the large burn, securing the cloth with thin strips of medical tape. Under your hands, Bakugou seems rigid. He’s twitching and tensing, muscles contracting with every breath, his hands fisting the fabric of your couch. You watch him bite back another wince, squeezing the couch cushion until his knuckles go white. You finish covering the burn, resolving to try your earlier question again.

“Burns are one of the most painful injuries, you know. And yours is nothing to laugh at. So even if it’s only a little, just my skin and not my quirk, I’d still like to help you.” You start, sitting back on your knees to look up at him. “Only if you’d let me, though.”

Bakugou just stares, breathing slowly. His eye twitches, and then he speaks. “Why do you keep helping me?”

You blink back at him, the wind almost knocked out of your lungs. You’d already answered a similar question, several times, but this didn’t feel like those other times. Now his voice was quiet, defeated and grumbling, bitten out through uneven breaths. He wasn’t asking about everyone else- Bakugou was asking why you kept helping him.

You begin to wonder all over again- where he’d been, who he’d been fighting. Whoever if was seemed to still sit with him; puppeting him into asking things the Bakugou you knew would never ask.

“Because I meant what I said earlier. I don’t like seeing you hurt- especially not when I know I can help you.” You sigh, crossing your arms around your stomach. “I don’t like seeing anybody hurt, you know? And I mean, I know I’m not exactly saving people on the scale you are, but I still like to try. In my own way.”

Bakugou seems to just look at you for a moment, before his shoulders are slumping.

“Fine. Leech.”

“Huh?”

“Take your glove off.” He says flatly, hardly even blinking as he regards you. “One. And don’t use your quirk.”

You straighten a bit, nodding minutely. Bakugou watches you with intense focus, tracking you as you slip a glove off. You’re not sure what to do next, but then he’s grabbing hold of your wrist, curling his slightly shaking fingers around it. For a moment you assume the tremors must be residual adrenaline- but the feeling coursing through your veins next feels anything but that.

Your side feels hot, a burn crawling across your ribs to mirror Bakugou’s; but almost as soon as the heat rises, it’s snuffed out. Instead of the subtle warmth you’d come to associate with him- it’s cold. A chill through your veins as if you’d been out in the snow for too long. It’s not overwhelming, but you feel it, shivering slightly as goosebumps claim smooth skin. It’s fear- but more than anything else, it’s sadness. Something slow and sluggish. Makes your blood feel like gelatinous sludge until he lets go of you.

You feel a little sick, a little nauseous, and when you look at Bakugou it only makes the sinking feeling worse. He’s got his eyes closed, huffing a deep sigh of relief. Something that covers his entire face in solace and has your heart shattering.

You didn’t use your quirk- but you could tell, from a single touch, that whatever he was feeling, whatever he was dealing with, should’ve taken just about anyone out- but there he was. Solid and stubborn like always.

You wonder where he gets that strength from. What possible reserves Bakugou could possibly have left to drawn from.

He must see the look on your face because then he’s averting his eyes. “Don’t fuckin’ say anything. I already know, and I’m not gettin’ into it with you of all people.”

His insult hardly holds any bite, just defensiveness and strange apprehension. You steamroll right on past it.

“It’s- are you sure? Bakugou, that’s- I’ve never,”

“No.”

His tone is steel, eyes boring into yours with a resolve you’d never seen before. Bakugou seems unmovable in that moment, unbreakable, even as his body nearly collapses from exhaustion. It’s an impressive thing; to watch a fire catch on embers you could’ve sworn were doused already.

You think there’s a quiet strength in that- a power all his own that has nothing to do with explosions, or shouting, or fists.

“Yeah. Okay.” You nod. “That’s- I get it. Not tonight.”

Bakugou seems abated by that as he sinks back into the couch. He looks at you expectantly, and then flicks his eyes back to his bruised knuckles.

“Gonna fix this shit or not?” He grumbles. “It’s your fuckin’ job isn’t it?”

And just like that you’re shocked back to life. You slip your glove back on, pulling his bruised hands toward you.

His hands are a mottled mess of bruises and burns and scabbed over scrapes. They’re warm, nearly pulsating with heat, and you try your best to handle them delicately. Luckily, the cold compress seemed to have helped the swelling, and all you have left to do is press a few butterfly bandages into the larger cuts. It’s quick work and before you know it, you’re wrapping his knuckles up with an ace bandage.

“Hey, I have a question.” You start, carefully weaving the bandage around his hand. “You don’t have to answer or anything, but I am curious.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, but he looks a little more tired then before. Less combative. “Go. Ask.”

“It seems like you’ve always got these bruises? Do you not wear gloves?”

“No. Course not. How the hell am I supposed to make a massive fuckin’ explosion wearing those piece-a-shits?”

You look at him, and Bakugou’s eyes are a little more lidded than before. His voice sings sincerity though. More conviction than ever.

“Yeah. I didn’t think of that.” You laugh under your breath. “Sorry- dumb question, I guess.”

“Yep.”

“You’re not supposed to agree with me!”

“Had to. It was true.” He just shrugs, watching you intently. Then he’s sitting up a little, shifting to get more comfortable. “You fucked up the left one. Do it again.”

“I- I just finished that one!”

“Yeah? And? I’m telling you to do it again.”

“And I’m telling you it’s fine.”

“God, you fuckin’ suck at this. I’m a pro-hero, aren’t you supposed to kiss the ground I walk on?”

“No. Tried that already, remember? You still didn’t seem to like me when I was playing nice at work.” You roll your eyes, but start rewrapping his hand anyway. “You know, if all of the pro-heroes are as difficult as you, I might as well just quit now.”

“What- you haven’t fuckin’ met ‘em yet?”

“Nope. Just you.”

Bakugou doesn’t say anything, but when you glance up at him, he’s not looking at you. His eyes are staring straight past, focusing on a spot on the wall. It might just be the low lighting, but you swore you could’ve seen a smile edging at the corner of his lips.

“Not missin’ much.” He says, clearing his throat. “They’re all losers compared to me.”

You nearly balk at that- the brazen tone catching you by surprise almost as much as the words themselves did. You’re about to scold him, for his hubris and for his attitude, but when you look at him he’s smiling openly. A grin that only widens when you scrunch your eyebrows up.

“You’re too easy, leech.” Bakugou smirks. “Could say anything and you’d flip shit.”

“I would not!”

“What the hell do you call that then?” He nods in the direction of your hands, the way one of them is curled into a fist. “Look pissed to me.”

“That’s not even- and who even gave you the right- you hypocrite!” You sputter, almost growling when Bakugou’s smile just widens. “God, you know what, no- I’m not giving you the reaction. I know that’s all you’re after anyways. Jerk.”

“Been called worse. Gotta up your insult game, dumbass.”

“No, I think jerk suits you fine.” You finish with his bandage, placing his hands on his lap. You stand. “It’s a good name for someone who actively enjoys watching the world burn.”

“To fuckin’ ashes.”

You just rolls your eyes at his confident tone, trying not to screech as he suddenly tips to the side. Just a little, just a teeny bit, but more than enough for him to almost rub the dried blood on his forehead into your cushions.

“Oh my god- where you raised in a barn?” You scramble to tip him back upright, careful to avoid his burns. “You’ve got somebody’s blood! All over your face! Don’t just lay down on my couch!”

“What the hell do you want me to do?” He grumbles tiredly, rubbing a bandaged hand down his face. “Not- ‘m not gettin’ up again.”

“Why?”

“Your stupid quirk fuckin’ zapped me, leech. Your fault, you fix it if there’s such a fuckin’ problem.”

“There is a problem!”

“Okay- so you fix it.”

“You’re- seriously?”

“Yep.”

“Oh my god, you’re irritating.” You sigh, muttering a swear under you’re breath.

Then you’re heading towards your kitchen, tossing the rags you’d already used aside, and grabbing new ones. These are just as soft, because you’re way nicer than deserves, and you run them under warm water. Because, once again, you are way more considerate and kind than he deserves.

You squeeze the excess water out, striding back over to him. You stop behind the back of the couch, gently guiding his head back until he’s looking up at you. In any other situation, you’d probably just tell him to take a shower, but now you can see Bakugou wasn’t kidding- he didn’t look like he was getting up any time soon. Not if he continued to be as boneless and pliant as he seemed at that moment.

When he nods at you insistently, you roll your eyes. You think it’s rich that he’s trying to speed along a process that he’s entirely uninvolved in.

“Jesus, did you have to get so much of it all over you?” You gripe, gently pressing the rag to his cheek. “What’d you do? Stab the guy?”

“No.” He mutters darkly, almost pouting. “And it was a woman. A stupid woman who I had to use my fists against! Bitch could repel my quirk.”

“Okay- well, let’s maybe not call women bitches please-“

“What’s the big deal? I call you a bitch all the time-“

“Yes! I know! That’s the problem!” You sigh, already knowing it was a lost cause. “But still- this is a lot of blood. You really didn’t have to bash her brains in like that.”

“Didn’t. Hit her once- in the nose. Not my fault she fuckin’ sprayed everywhere.”

“No- I’m pretty sure that’s exactly the definition of your fault.”

“Yeah. Whatever. Shut up, leech.”

Then he’s squinting his eyes, falling into silence. You almost want to talk again, but once the quiet settles you find that it’s nice.

He’s a lot calmer now, tilting his head slightly to accommodate wherever you were cleaning. Bakugou mostly keeps his eyes closed, only peeking them open occasionally. It’s a rare glimpse, and he’s careful only to look when you’re not, but you don’t need your quirk to tell what he’s feeling. There’s vulnerability there- the same type of surrender you’ve seen from so many patients before.

You wonder if that would anger or soothe him- the fact that, at his core, Bakugou wasn’t all that different from the people he saved.

“I see you opening your eyes.” You speak quietly, dabbing at a spot of blood near his hairline. “Not falling asleep this time?”

“Nope.”

“Really? Because your eyes are closed right now.”

“And?”

“Kinda makes it seem like you’re falling asleep.”

“I- ‘m not. Shut up.”

You just smile a little bit, wiping away the red staining his forehead. You try your best to be gentle, but a part of you doesn’t think it really matters all that much anymore. Bakugou seemed to be entirely relaxed, going soft and languid into the plush cushioning of your couch.

“You’re lucky I’m nice.” You say, running the rag over a particularly persistent spot of blood. “And that I’m not making you do this yourself.”

“Mhm.”

“That’s all you got? Nothing else to say?”

“Nope. Tired.”

“Go to sleep then. I won’t mind- nothing’s stopping you.”

“Nah.” He breathes out, eyes fluttering beneath his lids. Bakugou goes quiet, so quiet you nearly believe he’s actually fallen asleep, but then he’s clearing his throat, grumbling slightly. “‘s nice.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Shut up.”

“Fine. Fine, whatever you want. You know, since you seem to be pretty intent at making yourself at home here anyways.”

He smiles a little at that, but it’s soft and quickly fading. You think he looks like a different man in that moment- someone much softer and smaller than he really was.

“Stop.” He mumbles. “Stop complaining.”

“Says the man who uses his oxygen to bitch more than he breathes.”

“Oi-“ He peeks an eye open lazily, red eye focusing on you intently. “Watch it, leech.”

“What’re you gonna do? Bleed all over my apartment again- oh, wait.” You joke softly, moving your rag so just the tips of it brushing over his closed eyelids. The way his eyes flutter at that makes you smile. “You already did that, didn’t you?”

“That’s fuckin’ it.”

“What is?”

“Say your prayers.” He threatens vaguely, voice hardly more than a grumble. “You’re dead when I wake up.”

“Meet me at 3 PM in the school parking lot?”

Bakugou cracks another small smile at that, but then he’s smoothing it out. Just as he always does. “Show up late ‘n I’m killing you twice.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You know where I live, right?”

“Damn straight, woman.”

“Not gonna add shitty in front of that?” You laugh indulgently, swiping the rag near his ear. “Usually that’s your tagline.”

“Nah. Not bein’ that shitty- right now. Still too nice though.”

“Hey, everyone is too nice compared to you- I really don’t think you’re a fair judge.”

“I am.”

“Because you say so, right?”

“Yep. Kill ya if you disagree, so watch your mouth.”

“Colorful threat. I’d almost be scared if you didn’t slur your way through the entirety of it.” You smile, dabbing away the last bit of blood and soot on his cheek. “All done now- so go to sleep. Stop fighting it.”

Bakugou nods. He’s still, much more still than you’ve ever seen him, but there’s still fight in him. He seems determined not to let sleep catch up with him, rubbing loosely at his eyes with a fist; blinking away the bleariness as he regards you once more.

“Thanks.” Is all he mumbles, before closing his eyes, falling back entirely boneless once more.

You’re shocked- rooted where you stand just few inches above him.

“Did- did you just-“

“Say anythin’ and it won’t happen again.”

His tone is a little harsh, but the sleepy grin stretched across his face betrays him. Helps you see through the name calling for what it really is: childish mischief.

You think that’s rather fitting. The Bakugou you’d come to know was rather juvenile, after all.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, I’m a bloodsucking parasite. You gotta come up with new material, man.” You flick his forehead lightly. He has almost no reaction, doesn’t even flinch when you make contact. “Alright, now go to sleep. Because, and I mean this with full offense, Bakugou- you look like shit.”

You wonder if you’re toeing the line, playing with dangerous fire, but Bakugou just grins again. A tired, lazy, unbidden thing, that licks rolling warmth at the heels of his next words.

“Only look like shit because I keep associatin’ with you. Rollin’ in it at this point.”

“That’s- Hey!” You sputter, indignant as he peeks an eye open. “Don’t be rude!”

“Kiddin’, leech.”

“You better be.”

“Mhm. Now go away. I’m fuckin’ tired.”

When he tips sideways again, you let him. Bakugou’s still in the bottom half of his hero costume, sure, but he’s not disturbing the bandages on his ribs. There’s no more blood either, so you count it as a win. It takes all over seconds before he’s out, and you wonder just how long he’d been fighting it. Why he’d even do such a thing in the first place.

There’s still something biting at you though- a bit of that cold he’d left you with earlier. Something sympathetic in you aches, and your fingers itch in your gloves. Almost without thinking, you grab the blanket for him. Bakugou hardly reacts when you tuck the cloth around his shoulders, just barely flutters his eyes and snuffles a bit. He pulls his limb in a bit, nestling into the couch and mumbling something you can’t hear.

A part of you knows it pointless, but still, you hope whatever he’s dreaming about is warm.

 --/--

sorry about the wait y’all!! had exams n felt a bit burnt out :// 

all good now tho!! refreshed n excited haha,, i hope u all enjoyed!!

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