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the-wild-wolves-around-you · 2 years

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hear those bells ring: chapter 9 (a bakugo x reader fic)

Summary: Reader joins the Bakusquad for dinner and drinks, and Bakugo is NOT jealous.

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo/Reader; Katsuki Bakugo/You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Adult language. Also creepy men making creepy comments.

A/N: Sorry for the wait guys! It took me a hot second to catch up at my job after returning from my trip. But here's an extra long chap for ya. Hope y’all enjoy :D

~*~*~ No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.”

Ao3 Link: Here

Ch 1 Tumblr Link: Here

Ch 8 Tumblr Link: Here

“Shitty Hair, I swear to fuckin’ god…” Bakugo growled as he pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned against the front of the reception desk. “You told me we were leaving at six-thirty. It’s almost seven. I’m going home.”

“Noooo, come on, bro, just give me a few more minutes,” Kirishima said without looking up from the computer he was typing on. “Nao needed me to finish up some paperwork before I clock out. Well, actually some of it is your paperwork, so if you want to—”

“Just hurry the hell up.” The blond exhaled sharply. “Dunceface and Raccoon Eyes are already blowing up my phone and giving me a goddamn headache.”

“Aw, it’s Denk’s birthday, lighten up, man,” the redhead teased while still clacking away at the keyboard. His tongue was also sticking out of the corner of his mouth, and Bakugo narrowed his eyes. The hardening hero only wore that expression when he was…

Bakugo grabbed the monitor and twisted it to face him.

“Hey, wait, no!” Kirishima tried to stop him, but it was too late.

“You’re playing video games?” the explosive hero fumed, glaring down at the monitor. “Is that fucking pinball?”

“Well, it was,” his partner grumbled as his re-straightened the computer screen. “I was about to get high score, too…”

Bakugo stared down at him unblinkingly before he abruptly turned on heel. “That’s it, I’m going home.”

“No, wai—” Kirishima’s shout was interrupted by the ding of the elevators. “Ahh, actually, we can go now! We’re all here.”

We?

Bakugo froze mid step before he glanced over his shoulder, and he saw you hesitantly making your way towards Kirishima at reception. The excitable redhead bounced out from behind the desk to meet you, and even though the blond couldn’t see his partner’s face, he could hear the grin in his voice when he addressed you.

“Wow, you look great!” the hardening hero said when you came to a blushing stop in front of him. “I told you that you had something better than what I’m wearing. That color looks really nice on you, by the way.”

“O-Oh, um, thank you,” you stuttered, fiddling nervously with your hair. “I— this was kinda the only semi nice thing I brought with me, so it was either this or go in nothing. Ahhh, uh, that’s not what I— you know what I meant.”

Your blush reached from the roots of your hair down to your clavicle, but Kirishima just laughed it off and lavished you in more compliments.

While that was happening, Bakugo couldn’t help but turn and take you in more fully. And he had to admit, you looked… nice. Really nice. Your makeup was light, and your hair was thrown up into a messy bun, but tendrils hung down around your face and framed it nicely. Small gold hoops glinted in your ears, a complement to the gold chain and pendant that hung past your collarbones, and a few rings dotted your fingers. The dress you wore was long and loose, draping down to your ankles and your elbows, and it was in a green hue he unfortunately knew was olive, thanks to his parents’ business. Buttons ran down the entire length of it, and several were left unbuttoned on the bottom so your shins and legs peeked out of the slit as you shifted uneasily on your feet, which were hidden by short, scuffed, brown boots. A thin brown belt around your waist tied the whole outfit together, and the blond very deliberately looked away from the hint of cleavage that was showing just below your golden pendant.

Just in time, too, because now Kirishima was turning around with a shit-eating grin, which Bakugo answered with a scowl.

“This is why you made me wait?” he demanded as you and the redhead approached him.

“Oh, come on, fifteen minutes didn’t kill you,” his partner snorted. “Besides, Stitches said she was hungry, and we were about to go out and eat anyway, so what’s the problem?”

He knew exactly what the problem was. The bastard.

Bakugo just continued to glare at the hardening hero until you cleared your throat, which made his red eyes snap to you.

“I’m, um, really sorry I made you guys wait,” you muttered without making eye contact, tugging on your belt and wrapping the end around your finger. “I told Kirishima that I was fine making myself dinner, I really don’t want to impose.”

“And I told you that you can’t impose because I invited you.” Kirishima grinned and patted you on the head, which only came up to the middle of his chest. “Also, I already told the gang you’re coming, and they’re super excited to meet you.”

“If— if you’re sure,” you murmured, and your eyes met Bakugo’s for half an instant before they darted away.

“I am plus ultra sure!” the redhead said in an overly dramatic, All Might voice, which made you crack a faint smile.

“Are we gonna stand here all night listening to you two run your mouths, or are we going?” Bakugo turned for the door again, shoving his hands in the pockets of his bomber jacket.

“Don’t mind him, he gets hangry really easily,” Kirishima whisper-hissed, and the blond thought he heard you giggle under your breath.

The sound made him remember what you looked like bathed in red light in his car, in moonlight while standing in the sea, and Bakugo knew this was going to be a really fucking long night.

Thankfully, the bar the three of you were going to was within walking distance from the agency, so Bakugo didn’t have to be stuck in a car with you again. He just knew Shitty Hair would make him sit in the backseat with you…

Instead, the blond stayed several yards behind you and the redhead, shuffling his feet along the sidewalk and glaring petulantly at his partner’s back. Kirishima was animatedly telling you some stupid story, using grand hand gestures and almost smacking you in the face a few times. You listened with a polite smile, but Bakugo could see how tense the line of your shoulders was, how stiffly you walked in your slightly heeled boots. You were nervous as fucking hell. He kept waiting for you to trip over your own damn feet, and the moment finally came when Kirishima bounded up the steps leading up to the bar and opened the door.

You took the first two steps fine, but on the third you inevitably stumbled, stepping on the front of your dress before you tried to lean back, overcompensated, and began to tip over.

Bakugo easily caught the back of your elbow as he stepped up behind you, your spine brushing his chest as you regained your balance.

“You just really want to crack your damn head open, don’t ya, Stitches?” he grumbled.

“Not on purpose,” you muttered as you grabbed the guardrail with your left hand, and when you glanced back at him, he realized you were almost at eyelevel since you were standing a few steps above him. He hadn’t realized it before, but you had some freckles dotted across the bridge of your nose and onto your cheeks…

“Yeah, well, don’t need you meeting everyone covered in blood. It’ll make us look bad.” He released you and shoved his hands back into his jacket so they would stop betraying him. “So be careful. You only need to make it ten more damn feet.”

“Right, um, thank you. For catching me. I’ll be more careful.” You blushed and started to slowly make your way up the stairs again, and Bakugo glanced toward the door to see Kirishima still holding it open with a Cheshire cat grin stretched across his face.

The blond contemplated just turning around and marching home, but he knew his partner would just chase him down, so he might as well bite the bullet, make an appearance, and slip out in an hour when everyone was drunk.

Maybe he could even find someone to spend the night with like he considered on the beach…

“Bakubro, you comin’?” He looked up to see Kirishima still holding the door, but you had paused on the threshold, looking back at him with what he swore was a pleading expression…

Fuck.

“I’m comin’, shut up,” he said as he stalked his way up the stairs.

Kirishima smirked and ushered you inside with a grand bow, and then he leaned toward Bakugo and lowered his voice.

“Come on, bro, try to loosen up,” he muttered. “She’s nervous as it is, and you looking like someone pissed in your rice bowl isn’t helping things.”

“Why the fuck would I care if she’s nervous?” Bakugo hissed, glaring at his partner. “You’re the one who invited her, you make sure she’s comfortable.”

“Well, I’m trying my best, but something tells me she’ll relax more if it’s coming from you,” the redhead said with a nudge and a wink, and before Bakugo could retaliate, he was slipping into the bar and walking up to where you were standing a few feet away.

Bakugo gritted his teeth, prayed for patience, and marched inside, wishing this night was already over.

The blond could never remember the name of this place, but it had somehow turned into their place, as Dunceface called it, whenever the whole group of idiots were all in town and had some downtime. The bar served pretty decent food, and the whiskey and sake typically made the semi-loud atmosphere tolerable. Since tonight was a Saturday, the tables were more full than usual, and Bakugo wore his meanest scowl as he followed you and Kirishima through the crowd lining up at the bar for drinks. Thankfully, the tall redhead parted the people like a professional, and Bakugo was able to easily follow in his wake.

Being a pro hero came with more than a few benefits, one of which was being able to reserve the same corner table in the back whenever they came in. That was where Kirishima led you with purpose, a hand hovering several inches above the small of your back, and Bakugo heard their friends long before he saw Kaminari’s bright yellow hair.

“Guyyyys, I’m starving! When are we going to eat?”

Bakugo came around the corner and up to the partial wooden screen that surrounded their party. Kaminari was sitting in the booth and dramatically slumped over the tabletop with a flush to his face that said he was already a few shots deep. Sero sat beside the blond and halfheartedly patted Denki’s back, and with his other hand he sipped from a mostly full glass of beer. Meanwhile, Mina was sitting at one end of the table, and she was leaning back on her chair’s rear legs with her own propped up on another seat, typing away at her phone.

“Hey, guys!” Kirishima said from where he stood a few feet ahead of Bakugo. “Sorry we’re late. Happy birthday, Denks!”

The redhead stepped past the partial screen to slap the electric hero on the back, but you hesitated on the threshold, rocking back onto your heels as you glanced at Bakugo with panic in your eyes.

“It’s someone’s birthday?” you hissed.

“Yeah, Dunceface’s,” Bakugo grunted and jerked his chin toward Kaminari.

“Fucking Chargebolt?” you cursed under your breath in English before you switched back to Japanese. “I forgot Kirishima briefly mentioned that. I didn’t bring a gift.”

“Why the fuck would you bring a gift?” Bakugo stared at you like you were crazy. “You don’t even know these idiots.”

“I know, but it’s like, the polite thing to do,” you muttered as you wrung your hands, and the blond could tell you were apparently really upset about this.

“Untwist your panties, Stitches,” he scoffed, just so you would stop looking like you were going to throw up on his shoes. “Dunceface always gets plastered on his birthday, so we’ve stopped giving him gifts at bars anyway. You don’t see Shitty Hair or I carrying crap, do you?”

“No,” you said after your eyes darted to his hands, and some of the tension leeched out of your stiff shoulders.

“So calm the fuck down,” he huffed, but his tone was much softer than he meant it to be.

He needed a drink.

You nodded, and Bakugo noticed that you inched a little closer to him right before Kirishima shouted your name. Then both you and Bakugo turned to find the hardening hero grinning, and the rest of the table behind him stood up and tried to peek around the redhead and partial wooden screen.

“Bakuuuuuubro,” Kaminari cried out, and he made a drunken beckoning motion as he leaned forward and nearly toppled completely onto the tabletop. “Stop hiding in the shadows and introduce us to your new friend!”

The explosive hero scowled and immediately felt defensive.

“Shut up, Dunceface, Shitty Hair’s the one who invited her,” he said as he bumped you with his shoulder and herded you in front of him. He knew he was throwing you to the proverbial wolves, but it wasn’t like he cared, and he definitely couldn’t let these idiots think he cared, because then they would really turn into wolves.

“Holy shit,” Kaminari blurted out and gaped at you when you came to a hesitant stop in front of the table.

“Kiri! You didn’t tell us she was so pretty!” Mina skipped forward with a grin and immediately threw her arms around your stiff frame. “It’s so nice to meet you! I’m Mina Ashido.”

“H-Hello, Ashido,” you stuttered, tacking on the -san honorific and awkwardly bowing once the pink-skinned hero released you. Then you quietly relayed your own name back, but Bakugo thought Stitches suited you better.

“Aww! You’re so cute, but you can just call me Mina,” the acidic hero said with a wink. “We’re all friends here!”

“Alright… Mina,” you relented, sans honorific. Bakugo could see the profile of your smile, and while it was still stiff, there was a little relief there, too.

Why was he noticing this stupid shit?

“Awesome! Now, come meet the guys.” Mina grabbed your hand without shame and tugged you the rest of the way to the table, over to where Kaminari and Sero were staring at you intently.

Bakugo felt something prickle in his chest at the looks in their eyes, but he stomped it deep, deep down as he marched over to the opposite end of the table, threw himself into a chair, and helped himself to one of the several pitchers of beer that littered the tabletop. While he gulped down the cold amber liquid, he did his best to tune out the conversation happening a few feet away, but unfortunately, you wielded your quirk well, so he could hear every single word even if he didn’t want to.

~*~*~*~*~

“Okie doke! So, this is tonight’s birthday boy, Denki Kaminari! But you might know him as the electrifying hero, Chargebolt!”

Your new ‘friend’ Mina flourished a hand at the blond who was still practically gaping at you, and his mouth moved like he was trying to say something, but all that came out was a faint wheezing sound.

You smiled stiffly and lifted a hand in a weak wave. “Hello. Happy birthday.”

Chargebolt just continued to blink at you, so the tall and lanky man beside him stepped in.

“Please forgive him,” the dark-haired man said as he slapped Chargebolt on the back and smiled at you. “He’s a lightweight and has had a few drinks already. And like Mina said, Kirishima didn’t tell us he was bringing such lovely company. I’m Hanta Sero, by the way.”

Your cheeks burned at the casual compliment he threw your way, not to mention the smooth way he talked and his easy-going smile, which was a little toothy but suited his friendly face. You also recognized him as another pro, but his hero name was escaping you at the moment.

“I-It’s nice to meet you, Sero,” you said, adding the -san honorific even though Mina had already told you it was unnecessary. It just felt wrong to talk to so many pro heroes so informally. “I, um, hope I’m not intruding on anything.”

“Nonsense!” Mina cried out as she bumped her shoulder against yours. “Do you know how long I’ve been dying for another woman to be added to our group? When these guys get together, it can be testosterone central. Nights like these almost always end up with them challenging each other to some stupid dare or competition.”

“Don’t act like you don’t participate in or at least encourage more than half of those dares, Mina,” Sero teased, and he took a sip off his beer before his dark eyes settled on you again. “But she’s right, it’s nice to meet someone new, so don’t feel like you’re intruding.”

“Thank you.” You smiled uncertainly, still feeling awkward when everyone else seemed so comfortable and familiar with each other.

How the hell did you end up here? Thirty minutes ago, you were in your pjs…

“Soooo, why don’t you tell us about yourself?” Mina suggested and drew you out of your inner lamenting, and she guided you into the chair she previously had her feet propped on. “Kiri said you were currently living at their agency?”

“Oh, yeah,” you laughed, sweat beading on your brow when you looked up and realized three sets of eyes were glued to you. “It’s, um, well it’s kind of a long story…”

“Then we’ll need some apps!” Mina grinned, turned to the other end of the table, and snapped her fingers. “Hey, Kats, can you grab a waiter and order the usual appetizers?”

Your gaze trailed to the side and found Bakugo leaning back in a chair at the opposite end of the table, an almost empty beer glass half raised to his frowning mouth.

“I told you to stop calling me that, Raccoon Eyes,” he grunted. “And I’m not getting shit. You’re lucky I even showed up.”

“Yes, thank you for gracing us with your sparkling presence, Great Lord Explosion Dynamight,” Mina said as she rolled her black and gold eyes.

“Actually, I think it was Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight,” Sero chimed in with a smirk.

“Shut the fuck up, Tapeface,” Bakugo growled.

Cellophane, your mind abruptly supplied. That was Sero’s hero name.

“Oh my god, I forgot Kacchan chose such a stupid name,” Kaminari suddenly snickered, and he seemed to have recomposed himself from earlier because he actually caught your eye and grinned. “Back at U.A., we had to choose our own hero names, and—”

“Dunceface, just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass,” Bakugo cut in as he bared his teeth, and you thought his cheeks might have been a little pink.

Was pro hero Dynamight embarrassed by his friends? Maybe he was a little more human than you thought.

“Always so mean, Kacchan,” Kaminari pouted, a bit of sunflower-yellow hair flopping into his eyes. “You can’t even be nice on my birthday?”

“No,” Bakugo answered flatly, to which the still standing Kirishima leaned over and cuffed him over the head for.

“Yes, he can,” the redhead said as he shot his partner a sharp look, and then he turned back to the table with his characteristic bright smile. “We’ll go get some food and a round of drinks. Just the usual?”

“Yup! You’re a doll, Kiri, thanks!” Mina winked and blew the hardening hero a kiss, and now you thought his cheeks went a little pink.

Interesting.

Before you could think about this any further, Kirishima’s red eyes found yours.

“Do you have any specific requests?” he asked. “Or any allergies?”

“No allergies.” You shook your head and smiled at him. “And no requests. I’m fine with whatever you guys order.”

“Are you sure?” Kirishima frowned. “You can have whatever you want. It’s our treat.”

And your mother had taught you to never be picky or greedy when someone else was paying, but before you could politely refuse once more, Bakugo jumped in.

“She said she was fine, Shitty Hair,” he grumbled. “Just go order already. I’m fuckin’ starving.”

“Well, if you’re so hungry, then you’re coming with me,” Kirishima said as he narrowed his eyes at his partner, and then he leaned over, wrapped his hands around Bakugo’s bicep, and hauled him out of the chair as if he weighed as much as a sack of flour.

“Wha— Shitty Hair, I said I wasn’t getting—”

“You said you were starving,” the redhead corrected, and he started to shove the blond past the wooden partition surrounding the table. “So we need to get some food in you, STAT. Come on, stay with me, Bakubro. Don’t go into the light.”

“You motherf—” Bakugo tried to dig his heels in, but Kirishima just kept shoving him forward like a petulant toddler, and the last thing you saw of the blond was his crimson eyes finding yours for a split instant over his shoulder.

“We’ll be back in a minute, guys!” Kirishima called out behind him, and then he and Bakugo disappeared into the crowded bar.

Which left you alone. With three professional heroes. That you didn’t know.

You plastered on a smile and turned back to your new “friends.”

“Things are never dull with those two around, huh?” you joked.

“Ugh, try surviving a decade with all these knuckleheads,” Mina groaned as she leaned forward and ruffled Kaminari’s hair.

“Why is everyone being so mean to me on my birthday?” the blond whined before his yellowish eyes found yours. “You’re not going to be mean to me, too, are you?”

“N-No, of course not,” you stuttered.

Kaminari immediately perked up, grinned, and started to shove Sero out of the booth beside him. “Did you hear that, Sero? I’ve got a new best friend, so you can move now.”

“What did I do?” Sero laughed and planted his leg so he couldn’t be pushed onto the ground. “Besides, shouldn’t you at least learn her name before declaring her your new best friend?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you gasped and then quickly introduced yourself. “I, uh, completely forgot.”

“No worries.” Sero smiled. “It’s nice to officially meet you.”

“Yeah, and that’s such a pretty name, it suits you,” Kaminari quickly added as he gave up on trying to push Sero out of the booth.

“Right? I thought so, too.” Mina winked at you.

“Thank you.” You blushed and fidgeted, unused to being complimented at all let alone by beautiful pro heroes.

Because they were all beautiful, even the men. Mina was obvious, with her pastel-pink skin showcased by her cut off denim shorts and cropped tank top. Silver sparkles glittered around her alluring two-toned eyes, and the tips of the yellow horns poking out of her hair were dyed silver as well. She was an explosion of color, and it was hard to tear your eyes off her.

But the men were nothing to scoff at, either. Kaminari’s yellow hair was disheveled but in an endearing way, the black zig zag in his bangs matching the slim black choker around his neck. His smile was just as friendly and bright as Kiri’s, if a little more goofy, which contrasted with his all black outfit and faded band tee.

Meanwhile, Sero was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, with his raven-black hair just long enough to fall into his equally dark eyes. He wore a dark, short sleeved button up with a denim jacket thrown over the back of the booth behind him, and his long but muscular legs were stretched out and wrapped in light colored, distressed jeans. For the first time, you noticed the bulges around his elbows, and you couldn’t help but feel curious. Your quirk was invisible, so you always thought people with physical manifestations of their power were fascinating.

Sero must have noticed your gaze because he stretched out his arm and flexed his elbow, the lithe muscles in his bicep rippling with the motion.

“Tape comes out of them,” he chuckled. “If you didn’t know.”

“N-No, I did,” you stammered. “I’ve, um, seen you on the news before. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. I just… didn’t think I would end this night by meeting pro heroes Cellophane, Chargebolt, and Pinky.”

“Heyy, the night’s barely even started,” Sero said as a wide grin stretched across his mouth. “And seriously, we’re just regular people. You don’t have to walk on eggshells around us.”

“Yeah,” Mina added and bumped your shoulder. “And I promise we’re all much nicer than Bakugo.”

“Stop talkin’ shit about me behind my back, Raccoon Eyes.”

You jumped when the blond’s voice suddenly came from behind you, and you craned your neck back to see him standing there with a scowl and tray of what looked like sake, shot glasses, and a bottle of… whisky?

“I talk shit about you to your face, too, Kats, don’t worry,” Mina teased.

Bakugo’s scowl only deepened as he stomped forward and set the tray on the table. Kirishima was on his heels carrying a similar tray, but this one was full of food. You saw some gyoza, calamari, edamame, and karaage, along with several other dishes, and your mouth immediately started to water as you remembered how hungry you were.

“Sorry that took a minute,” Kirishima said as he set the food on the table. “They said the first round was on the house in honor of Denk’s birthday, but if we want refills, we just need to flag someone down.”

“Awesome, let’s take shots!” Kaminari lunged forward, grabbed two shots of whisky, and held one out to you.

“O-Oh, thank you,” you said and took the small glass, even though you didn’t usually drink, and when you did, it was almost never whisky.

“To my birthday!” Kaminari cheered as everyone else picked up their glasses and raised them. Then his yellow eyes found yours, and he winked. “And to new friends. Kanpai!”

“Kanpai,” you muttered timidly, and everyone clinked glasses. The back of your neck suddenly prickled as the others took their shots, and you looked up to see Bakugo staring at you over his now empty glass. You flushed under his scrutiny before tilting your head back and letting the liquor burn down your throat.

“Woo!” Kaminari shook his head, and you swore you saw sparks dance off the ends of his hair.

“Alright, now that we have food and drinks, I think we were promised a long story,” Mina said as she picked up a piece of calamari, popped it into her mouth, and turned to you expectantly.

“Yeah, yeah!” Kaminari excitedly leaned forward. “Kiri said Bakubro blew up your neighborhood or something?”

“Shitty Hair is dramatic,” Bakugo cut in, and he shot his partner a glare. “I didn’t blow up a whole fucking neighborhood.”

“Wellllll,” Kirishima drawled as he poured himself a beer, “you tore up the street for almost a whole block. And we are having to fix up numerous buildings.”

“The villain did most of that shit,” Bakugo sneered. “And he would have done worse if I didn’t stop him.”

“Uh-huh, sureeee, Kats,” Mina said as she fought back a smile.

Bakugo scowled and opened his mouth to retaliate, but you beat him to it.

“No, he’s right,” you spoke up without meaning to, and then cursed yourself when every eye turned on you. “I-I mean, I saw the villain, and he was destroying the block. A few other heroes were trying to stop him, but they weren’t making much progress until Dynamight arrived.”

“See?” Bakugo smirked as he leaned back and rocked his chair onto its rear legs. “Listen to Stitches.”

“Stitches?” Kaminari and Mina echoed in unison, and the smirk immediately fell from Bakugo’s face.

Your own flushed with heat, and you sank a little bit in your chair, hoping the ground would just swallow you up.

“Oh, yeah, that’s Bakubro’s nickname for—” Kirishima cut himself off as he popped a gyoza into his mouth and gestured to you. His expression was innocent, but you could have sworn you saw a mischievous glint in his gaze.

“Oh, reallllllly?” Mina asked with a sly grin, and her black and gold eyes flickered from you to Bakugo and back again.

“She’s a fuckin’ seamstress,” Bakugo snapped defensively. “And you know I can’t be bothered to remember names.”

“Mmmhmm, I’ve heard that one before,” the pink-skinned hero snickered before she turned her attention on you. “But you’re a seamstress? That’s so cool! Can you make clothes as well as do like touch ups?”

“Well, I don’t know how cool it actually is, but yeah,” you laughed self-consciously and had to fight the urge to fiddle with your hair or necklace. “My grandparents were a tailor and seamstress, and my dad taught me the basics of sewing when I was young, so I took over the family shop about a year ago after my grandparents passed.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Mina said with a momentary frown. “But I’m sure they would love the fact that you’re keeping their legacy going!”

“Yeah, I like to think so, too.” You smiled softly and could feel the whisky working its way through your system, lowering your guard. “In any case, taking up their shop was better than anything I had going on back home in America, so I can’t complain much.”

“Wait, you’re American?” Kaminari gasped as he slapped a hand against the table, rattling the dishes. He had a little dipping sauce smeared in the corner of his mouth, and it definitely helped to lower him a bit from the pedestal of pro hero.

“Yes.” You blushed. “My parents moved to America before I was born, so I grew up there.”

“Wow, I would have never guessed,” Sero said and smiled. “Your accent is perfect.”

“It’s far from perfect.” You deflected the compliment with another nervous laugh. “But my family grew up speaking in Japanese, and I studied languages and linguistics in college, so I’m glad it all ended up being worth it.”

“Can you say something in English?” Kaminari blurted out.

“Um, sure?” you half-asked, half-stated. “What, uh, do you want me to say?”

“She’s not a circus monkey, Denki,” Kirishima interjected, and he frowned as he turned to you. “You don’t have to.”

“Aww, come on,” Kaminari pouted as his yellow eyes pleaded with yours. “We all studied English in high school, but none of us really kept up with it. I just think it sounds so cool! Especially the curse words. I kinda know some of those. Ooooh, can you say, ‘Chargebolt is fucking awesome?”

“Denki…” Sero sighed, and he mouthed an ‘I’m sorry’ to you.

“Fine, you don’t have to say that exactly,” Kaminari amended. “What about… ‘Chargebolt is the best fucking electric hero there is.’ Or ‘Chargebolt is the toughest bastard I’ve ever met!’”

“Someone shut him up,” Bakugo grumbled as he poured himself some sake.

“No, it’s fine, really,” you assured him, which caused Bakugo to frown at you. Then you faced the electric hero again as you summoned up your courage. “Um, okay, how about…”

In the end, what came out of your mouth was not what you intended.

“I don’t know how the hell I ended up here,” you said in English. “And I’m praying to every god I don’t believe in that I’m not making a complete fool of myself in front of all you really important people. But Chargebolt is fucking awesome.”

“Hey, that’s me!” The blond grinned and pointed at himself. “I don’t know what else you said, but it sounded sweet. And you can call me Denki, by the way.”

He winked at you, and you had to wonder if he asked you to call him Chargebolt just so he could use that line.

You smiled politely and tried not to think about how you must be sweating through your dress.

“So, you’re pretty, have a degree, speak multiple languages, sew, and own your own business?” Mina whistled as she sipped on some sake. “That’s impressive.”

“She can cook really well, too!” Kirishima chimed in and shot you an encouraging smile. “I’ve stolen some of her dinner while she’s been staying at the agency, and it’s always delicious.”

“Stoppp,” you said, well more like begged, as your whole body prickled with embarrassment. “I really just throw stuff into a pan and hope it tastes good.”

“The mark of a true chef,” Kirishima said with a wink.

“Well, maybe you could cook for us one day,” Sero suggested as his dark eyes studied you, but his smile was friendly and warm. “Bakugo does that for us sometimes when we he refuses to be dragged out to dinner.”

“No, I just cook myself dinner, and somehow you leeches always show up,” the blond grunted and drew your attention to him. He was still leaning back in his chair, but now his arms were crossed over his thick chest, and he was glaring down the table. He didn’t seem like he was having fun, but these were his friends, and maybe this was just their dynamic.

“So, how come there’s always enough food for all of us, Kats?” Mina teased over the rim of her beer.

Bakugo didn’t seem to have an answer to that, and the table laughed.

You smiled awkwardly and, with the attention off you momentarily, leaned forward to grab some of the finger foods. The pro heroes around you bantered with each other while you snacked on gyoza and edamame, and you sighed with relief as your snarling stomach was finally satiated. You tried each of the dishes, and they were all delicious, made better for the fact that you didn’t have to make or pay for them.

“Stitches!”

You snapped your head up, edamame skin still hanging from your mouth, to find the whole table staring at you.

“S-Sorry,” you mumbled as your swallowed and discarded the edamame. “What?”

“She’s not a dog, Bakugo,” Mina huffed and rolled her eyes. “I apologize for him.”

“What’s there to apologize for?” the blond asked at the end of the table. “She wasn’t answering when you called her, so I got her attention for you.”

“Interesting that you answered to Stitches instead of your name, though,” Kirishima said with a sly grin cast in your direction.

“I’ve just… heard that more in the last few days,” you mumbled and fidgeted with the empty glass in front of you.

“Oh, do you need some beer?” Kaminari blurted out before he leaned forward, grabbed one of the pitchers on the table, and filled your glass. “There you go.”

“Thank you,” you said, and you picked up the glass just so you could have something to do with your hands. The beer was a little warm when you took a sip, but you didn’t even like beer that much anyway, so it made little difference to you. “Sorry, um, what were you all trying to ask me?”

“I just wanted to know if these guys have been treating you alright. Well, besides Mr. Explosion Murder blowing up your shop.” Mina gestured at Bakugo and Kirishima, and the former scowled while the latter frowned.

“O-Oh, no, they’ve— everyone’s been so nice this past week,” you fumbled out. “I’ve really wanted for nothing. And besides, like Dy— Bakugo said, the villain’s to blame for most of the damage anyway, so, um, no hard feelings there.”

You internally cringed and cursed yourself for faltering over Bakugo’s name. You didn’t want to seem too informal with him, so you’d decided to use his hero name at first, but then you realized that might seem weird since you were sitting and eating with his friends. Besides, it wasn’t like there was anything between the two of you besides an embarrassing, unrequited crush on your side. You needed to stop being so weird.

“Yeah, see, Mina?” Kirishima puffed out his chest. “I can take care of people. Red Riot’s a hero of the people, after all.”

The rest of the pros groaned at the sappy sentiment, but you flashed the redhead a small smile because it was true. The people did love Red Riot, and after spending time with him, you could clearly see why. He was kind and considerate, not to mention brave and strong. But, if the quick looks he kept shooting Mina when he thought no one was looking were any indication, you weren’t the only one at this table with a secret crush.

But maybe you were reading into things. That shot of whisky could have gone straight to your head, you were such a lightweight.

“I was less worried about you, Kiri,” Mina said with a wave of her hand.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Bakugo growled.

“I rest my case.” Mina raised a sake cup, downed the liquor, and turned to you. “Seriously, if you get sick of his attitude before your place is fixed up, you can come stay at my agency.”

“Or mine!” Kaminari said as he tossed his hand up in the air like he was a particularly enthusiastic student dying to answer a question.

“Well, if everyone’s throwing their hat in the ring, I will, too.” Sero grinned ad nodded at you. “My door is always open.”

“Stop trying to glom onto my thing,” Mina pouted. “She’ll come stay at my agency. That way we can have girl’s night!”

“No, that’s not fair!” Kaminari argued. “That’s… that’s sexist!”

“What?” Mina arched an eyebrow as Sero snorted into his beer.

“I don’t know,” the blond whined and immediately backtracked. “You know things just come out of my mouth sometimes. But you still can’t just claim Stitches. That’s not fair.”

Now he was calling you Stitches, too?

“I hate to second Denki, but he’s right,” Sero chimed in as he downed his own sake glass. “The fairest thing would be for Stitches to have equally long stays at each of our agencies.”

“Uh, since when—” Kirishima started to interject.

“Okay, but I get Stitches first,” Mina asserted and popped a piece of calamari in her mouth.

You might as well change the name on your passport at this point.

“Um, can ‘Stitches’ say something?” you asked as you tentatively raised a hand.

“No,” Bakugo suddenly snapped and drew every eye to him. He was scowling, which wasn’t unusual, but the fire in his red eyes was incongruous with the conversation. “She’s staying at our agency until her shit’s fixed. End of fucking story.”

The rest of the table blinked at him in surprise, you included, and a long stretch of silence descended on the lot of you. Bakugo continued to glare defiantly at his friends, like he was daring them to challenge him, and finally the silence became too much for you.

“I, uh, was actually going to say that I’m honestly fine with where I am right now,” you spoke up, but you shrank back a little in your seat when Bakugo’s crimson eyes shot to you. “I just— it’s only going to be a few weeks anyway. The room I’m in is really nice, and I don’t want to have to move again until I’m going home. Besides, Kirishima and Bakugo really have taken care of everything for me, and I don’t want to be any more of a bother than I have been.”

“And I’ve repeatedly told you that you aren’t a bother,” Kirishima countered before he smiled at you. “But I’m glad to know you’ve enjoyed your stay.”

“Butttttttt if Kacchan is ever too mean to you…” Kaminari drawled and flashed you a wink.

“I’m the Number Two hero, I’m perfectly fucking nice,” Bakugo spat.

“Might be Number One if you learned now to smile, Kats,” Mina giggled.

“Fuck all of you,” the blond growled, and then he slammed his chair down on all four legs, grabbed one of the sake carafes, and ignored the cups entirely as he took a swig straight from the bottle.

His friends laughed again before Sero suddenly straightened up in the booth like he was peeking over the wooden divide around them, and a grin split his mouth in half.

“Speaking of Number One…” he said.

“Oh, is Izu finally here?” Mina gasped and whirled around.

Izu? You frowned in confusion and dismay. You didn’t know they were expecting more people to show up, and while you couldn’t place the name, it was safe to assume this new person was another pro hero.

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” Bakugo grunted as he slammed the sake bottle onto the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist. “Who invited the nerd?”

Whoever this person was, Bakugo didn’t seem to be a fan, but Mina’s voice pulled you from your musings.

“I did, Kats, calm down,” she said with another eye roll. “A few weeks ago, he helped Denki and I with a case that our agencies ended up working together on.”

“Yeah, it had been a while since I’d seen him, maybe before his last America trip, but it was actually hella fun getting to work with him,” Kaminari added before his eyes lit up, and he lifted an arm to wave over his head. “Yo, Midoriya!”

“Denki!” everyone hissed in unison, and Sero used his long arm to pull the blond’s down.

“Do you want us getting mobbed?” Mina chided and leaned forward to bop Kaminari on the head like a disobedient puppy. Then she saw you blinking around in confusion, and she flashed you an apologetic smile. “Sorry. It’s just, while we might all be pros, Izuku’s on another level. If people figure out he’s here, we’ll be swarmed with fans asking for pics and autographs. And he’s so nice, he’ll talk to every single person who approaches him.”

“That’s cuz he enjoys all the hot air people blow up his ass,” Bakugo grumbled as he slumped in his seat, and you could have sworn he was hiding a pout behind the rim of his full beer.

Wait a second… Mina had said Izuku, but Kaminari called him Midoriya… Izuku Midoriya. Where had you heard that name before?

“Sorry I’m late guys!” a voice said from behind you. “I actually can’t stay long, either, one of my sidekicks needed his shift covered, but I just wanted to drop by and say happy birthday, Denki!”

Why did he sound familiar?

“Hey, thanks, man.” Kaminari grinned as he pushed to his feet and clambered over Sero, exiting the booth and walking around the table to embrace the man behind you.

You chanced a glance over your shoulder and then had to crane your neck up to fully take in the newcomer. He was tall, taller than Kaminari but not quite as tall as Kirishima, and his frame was incredibly broad, nearly enveloping Denki’s slighter form as they hugged. When they pulled apart, you saw the man was dressed in dark, nondescript clothing, and a baseball cap was pulled low over his face. But it didn’t quite hide the mess of green curls spilling out from under the rim, and when he lifted his head and smiled at the table with a face full of freckles and white teeth, you felt like the breath had been punched out of you.

Because standing in front of you was Izuku Midoriya, hero name Deku, the top hero in Japan and most of the world, the Symbol of Peace.

You definitely needed a sinkhole to open up directly beneath you now. Right now.

Your body amped up its sweat production even more, and the blood roaring in your ears blocked out the sound of Mina and the others greeting Deku. You cast your eyes around in the futile hopes of an escape route, and when none were forthcoming, you decided you at least needed some sake for courage. Your hands shook as you hurriedly poured the liquid, but the burn seemed to take the razor-sharp edge off your panic, so at least you didn’t start hyperventilating. As you were contemplating a second sake, you felt eyes on you, and you looked over to find Bakugo still seated, still sulking behind his beer, but now he was almost… glaring at you? His upper lip also seemed to be curled in disgust, and you had just a split second to wonder if you’d spilled something on yourself before someone called your name.

“Y-Yes?” You half-turned in your chair, but when you realized numerous eyes were locked on you, you hastily rushed to your feet.

“We just wanted to introduce you,” Mina said as she gestured at Deku.

“Hello.” The tall, green-haired man smiled with the same friendly smile you’d seen on TV, and he held out a large, scarred hand for you to shake. “I’m Izuku Midoriya. It’s nice to meet you.”

You blanky muttered your name and watched as if from a distance as his hand enveloped yours completely, scars and callouses rough against your skin for an instant before he pulled away.

“Eijiro says you’re a guest at his agency,” Deku went on, and his emerald eyes seemed to study you with genuine interest.

“Y-Yes,” you stuttered, your throat suddenly dry. You couldn’t think of anything else to say, even as an awkward silence descended upon the table, so you just continued to smile forcefully until Kirishima came to the rescue.

“Her shop and apartment were destroyed by… a villain Bakugo stopped about a week ago,” the redhead explained.

“Oh, no, that must have been very hard on you,” Deku said with a sympathetic frown. His voice was very light and gentle, like he was talking to a frightened child, but your brain continued to rattle around your skull like a rogue pinball.

“It’s good,” you muttered, but when the Symbol of Peace frowned at you, the words registered in your head, and you rushed to clarify. “I-I mean, it’s fine. I’m fine. Sorry, Japanese isn’t my first language. But, um, I’m… fine. Kirishima and Bakugo have taken very good care of me while my apartment is repaired. Bakugo even gave me his own credit card. W-Well, I mean it’s an agency card, not like his own personal one, um…”

You let you a nervous giggle that was only a touch hysterical, but in your mind you were screaming for yourself to shut up. You even went so far as to bite the inside of your cheek, and the metallic taste of blood shocked enough sense back into you that you finally, blissfully, lapsed into silence.

“Well,” Deku said, and his smile was amused now, but not in a mean way, “I’m glad Kacchan is being so accommodating.”

“Shut the hell up, nerd,” Bakugo finally spoke up from the end of the table. “I can be nice when I fucking want to.”

“I know. That’s why you’re nipping at my heels in the rankings.” The Symbol of Peace turned his smile on the blond now, and you almost sagged in relief to not be pinned under his gaze anymore.

“Damn straight.” Bakugo scowled and narrowed his scarlet eyes. “I’m coming for your throne next time, Deku.”

“It’s good to see you, too, Kacchan.” Deku’s smile turned fond.

“Whatever.” Bakugo rolled his eyes and reached out to pour himself another beer. “Are you going to fuckin’ sit down or just hover? Your looming shadow is pissing me off.”

Deku winced and rolled up his sleeve to look at his watch. “I really can’t stay long. The shift I’m covering starts in about two hours…”

“Awww, come on, Izu,” Mina pouted and wrapped herself around his massive bicep. “Just have one drink with us.”

“I don’t know…” he said, and his brow furrowed as he bit his lip.

“Dude, just one drink,” Kaminari cajoled. “For my birthday. Your quirk will burn it off before your shift even starts.”

“If you leave now, Denki’s just going to pout and sulk all night,” Sero chimed in.

“Well, I don’t want to ruin your birthday, Denki.” The Number One hero smiled ruefully. “I’ll stay for one drink. But just one!”

Everyone cheered, save you and Bakugo. Bakugo just rolled his eyes again and refocused on his beer. Meanwhile, you plastered on a bright, fake smile and wondered if this night would ever end.

The group reshuffled to make room for Deku. Sero, Mina, and Kaminari squeezed back into the booth, with Mina in the middle. Kirishima took the chair closest to Bakugo at the end of the table, which left Deku to take the chair on the opposite end, sandwiching you between him and the hardening hero.

“Is this alright? Do you have enough room?” Deku asked as he shifted his chair an inch away from you.

Given how both he and Kirishima were over six feet, and as wide as the broad side of a barn, you were admittedly feeling a little claustrophobic, but you would never admit it.

“I’m fine,” you said with the same fake smile that hadn’t left your face in so long that your cheeks were starting to hurt. “Do you have enough room?”

“Yup!” Deku grinned as Mina took it upon herself to dole out a second round of whisky shots. Everyone clinked glasses, shouted ‘kanpai!’ and downed the liquor, and then the green-haired hero turned back to you. “So, what kind of shop do you run?”

You knew he was just being polite and trying to include you, and he did look genuinely interested, but you wished you could fade out of existence rather than be the focal point of his attention.

“O-Oh, nothing exciting I’m afraid,” you chuckled with the taste of whisky still burning a hole through your tongue. “I just do alterations. On clothes. You know, patching school uniforms and taking suits in or out.”

“Wow, that must require a lot of precision,” Deku said, and he didn’t sound condescending. Then he laughed as he lifted his large hands and flexed his scarred fingers. “Dexterity like that isn’t one of my strong suits.”

“Says the top hero in the world,” Kaminari scoffed.

“I don’t know about that.” Deku smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head, and he suddenly looked a little younger, less imposing.

“Oh, come on, dude. What about that thing you just did on our joint mission a few weeks ago? Mina was there!”

“Are you talking about him shooting Black Whip through a hole the size of a quarter, in between falling debris?” Mina tapped her chin with a thoughtful look.

“Nooo,” Kaminari groaned. “Though that was awesome, too. I’m talking about…”

The conversation devolved into hero exploits from there, which you could not be more grateful for. It was kind of like listening to gods talk about their adventures, so you just continued to smile politely and nod while sipping on sake and silently sneaking snacks. Your surroundings and hearing started to feel a little fuzzy, which was a sign you should probably stop drinking, but it was the only think keeping you calm while you were literally pinned in by gigantic, larger-than-life heroes.

Unfortunately, you weren’t completely invisible, because the conversation eventually turned back to you when Deku was talking about his last America trip, and Kaminari oh so helpfully pointed out that you were American.

Then everyone had a million questions for you about the United States. Deku wanted to know where you grew up, and it turned out that he’d actually been one city over from your hometown at some point. Then he wanted to know if you’d visited some of the other places he’d been to, and you had to inform him that you unfortunately weren’t very well traveled before you came to Japan, which Deku said was a shame.

Meanwhile, Mina wanted to know what the fashion trends were like in America. And, again, you had to sadly inform her how you weren’t very up to date on fashion. You liked what you liked and what felt comfortable, and you never really paid attention to the five-minute fads that came and went on social media. But you did show her a few outfits that you had made for yourself, and she gushed about how good they looked, how she loved the colors, and if you could make something for her. Which caused Kirishima to snicker and mouth, “Told you so,” at you.

From there, Sero actually asked about your quirk, which made you immediately tense up, and you swore you saw both Kirishima and Bakugo shift in your peripherals. But you just said you had a minor healing quirk that was all but useless, which was why you had turned to academic studies, particularly languages, for your degree. You hurried the conversation on from there, and thankfully no one seemed to notice the way your hands shook around your almost empty beer glass.

Then Kaminari butted in and bluntly asked what the dating scene was like back home and if you had a boyfriend waiting for you in the States.

“Denki,” Sero sighed as he shoved the blond’s head to the side. “Stop being rude, or we’ll have to cut you off.”

“It was just a question,” Kaminari defended, and his yellowish eyes were a little bloodshot, probably due to the several shots he’d take off the whisky bottle.

“A rude question,” Sero said as he casually sipped his beer, but his dark eyes wandered over to yours and glinted with their own curiosity.

“I-It’s okay,” you muttered, cheeks and ears hot with alcohol and embarrassment. “I, uh, don’t have anyone waiting for me back in America.”

“Whaaaaaaa?” Kaminari gaped. “Then you found a boyfriend here in Japan?”

Every eye was suddenly trained on you, even Bakugo’s at the end of the table, and you downed your countless sake cup for courage.

“No,” you said after you swallowed, and you refused to lift your gaze off the table. “I’m… single.”

“Impossible.” Kaminari rapidly shook his head, sending sparks flying off the ends of his hair. “I mean, just look at you!”

You face flared with so much heat you thought you were going to burst a blood vessel.

“Have you ever had a partner before?” Mina suddenly jumped in.

“Mina, not you, too,” Kirishima groaned. “Leave her alone. I didn’t bring her so you guys could gang up on her.”

“Yeah, when did this fuckin’ turn into a sleepover game?” Bakugo interjected. It was the first time he’d spoken since Deku arrived, and when you glanced at his end of the table, you saw an empty pitcher of beer sitting in front of his slightly pink, scowling face.

“Oh my god, that’s a great idea!” Mina gasped and clapped her hands. “We should play Never Have I Ever! I’ll go first. Never have I ever had a partner before.”

“I know that’s a damn lie,” Kaminari snorted, which earned him a soft slap to the head. “Owwww. Why’re you hitting me? You’re the one trying to trick Stitches into answering.”

“I don’t think it’s fair if you’re targeting one person with your questions, Mina,” Deku laughed.

“Umm, we really don’t need this song and dance,” you said as you tried not to spontaneously combust. “I’ve, uh, had partners before. A few boyfriends in college, but nothing serious, and nothing in several years.”

Why were you talking about this? Why did the universe hate you so furiously?

“Man, American guys must be fucking blind and dumb, because you’re sooo hot,” Kaminari muttered and then ducked when Sero and Mina both tried to headslap him. “Ha! Denki for the win.”

“Ignore him.” Mina rolled her two-toned eyes before she grinned at you. “But if you’re single, are you looking to settle down here in Japan? Because I know a few guys at my agency who would make great husband material!”

Your polite smile fractured like glacial ice. Husband?

“Um, excuse me?” Kaminari frowned and gestured around the table. “What about the husband material sitting right in front of you?”

Mina wrinkled her nose as she glanced at each of the men in turn, and then she shook her head. “Deku and Kiri are the only viable options, and Kiri’s taken.”

“Uhhh, no I’m not,” Kirishima interjected.

“Aren’t you seeing that girl from the tea shop downtown?” Mina furrowed her brow.

“No, she just gave me her number. I never called her.”

“Why not?” Mina asked, and she cocked her head. “She was cute.”

“W-Weren’t we asking Stitches questions?” Kirishima suddenly deflected as his cheeks went a little red.

The bastard.

“Oh, yeah.” Mina turned back to you. “Where was I?”

“You were saying apparently only Deku and Kiri are viable husbands,” Sero helpfully supplied, but his tone was playfully bitter.

“Come on, Han, you and I both know you’re at least five years from settling down,” Mina teased. “You love going out too much.”

“And what about me?” Kaminari protested.

Mina shifted in the booth to give the blond a long once over. “You still need about ten years to finish maturing, Denks.”

“Rude.” The electric hero pouted. “What about Kacchan? No way he gets married before me.”

A flame licked down your spine as you suddenly imagined Bakugo in a suit, standing at the end of a flower-strewn aisle…

No. Stop it. Bad alcohol. Yet you still reached for your remaining flat and tepid beer and chugged the rest of it in one go.

“I don’t know,” Deku suddenly interjected with a sly smile. “There was this girl in our preschool class that Kacchan gave flowers to…”

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth, nerd,” Bakugo spat. “She lived next door, and her dog died. The old hag made me bring her flowers.”

“Ooooh, how is Mitsuki doing, by the way?” Kaminari asked. “Still a MILF?”

A gyoza suddenly rocketed across the table and smacked Kaminari right in the face, leaving behind a smear of dipping sauce.

“Say that about the old hag again,” Bakugo said with narrowed eyes, and his voice was deathly quiet.

Kaminari whimpered and ducked behind Mina. “Kacchannnn, it’s my birthday, don’t hurt me. All I’m saying is your mom is and has always been very beautiful. It’s a compliment!”

Deku snickered behind his hand, which drew Bakugo’s attention and his ire.

“What are you laughing at, Deku?” he sneered.

“Yeah, Inko’s just as hot,” Kaminari said as he peeked his head out from behind Mina. “But in a more matronly kinda way. Plus, her cooking is amazing!”

“Hey.” Deku’s smirk suddenly turned into a frown.

“Ugh, as you can see,” Mina chimed in and turned back to you. “They’re all a little hopeless.”

“I’ve at least had a girlfriend,” Kaminari said with a haughty sniff. “Bakugo can’t say that.”

What? That couldn’t be right. Pro Hero Dynamight had never had a girlfriend?

Another gyoza— no, edamame this time— slapped into Kaminari’s forehead, even though he was still partially hiding behind Mina.

“Dunceface, I swear to fuckin’ god…” Bakugo growled as he glowered at the other blond.

“What? It’s true!” Kaminari said and ducked completely behind Mina again.

Bakugo stood up so fast the table full of glasses and dishes rattled precariously. Crimson eyes glared down furiously at the gathered heroes but for some reason avoided you entirely, and meanwhile Kaminari was trying to go boneless and slide onto the floor for better cover.

You gaped up at the explosive hero, and a silence that was equal parts angry on Bakugo’s part and awkward on everyone else’s descended over the table until Deku spoke up.

“Kacchan, you know he was just kidding around,” he said in that gentle, soothing voice you internally dubbed his ‘hero voice.’

Bakugo snapped open his mouth like he was going to spit fire, but then he paused, with his eyes glaring at Deku over your head but not drifting toward you for even a second.

Finally, he shoved his chair back completely with another rough scrape but kept it from hitting the wooden divide.

“I’m going to get another drink,” he grunted before he stalked off into the bar, the tense line of his shoulders the last thing you see of him.

Everyone glanced at the still quarter full whisky bottle that was sitting in front of Bakugo’s now empty seat, and another beat of silence passed.

Then the faint sound of a phone alarm shattered the awkward quiet like brittle glass.

“Oops, sorry, that’s me,” Deku said as he fished around in his jacket pocket and silenced his phone. “Not to go out on a sour note, but I have to get going. My shift starts in an hour, and I still have to get back to the agency, change, and do some paperwork I’ve been putting off.”

“Boo,” Mina pouted before she sighed. “But we understand. Being Number One is hard work. But you do it well, Izu. All Might would be proud.”

Tears suddenly glistened in Deku’s emerald eyes, and you tried to hide the shock on your face. You didn’t expect the Symbol of Peace to cry so easily… but it kind of made you like him more.

“Thanks, Mina,” he rasped, and then he cleared his throat and pushed himself to his feet. “It was so great to see all of you guys, and Denki, your gift should arrive at your apartment in the next few days.”

“Aww, you shouldn’t have, man, thanks.” Kaminari also slid to his feet, and then the two heroes leaned over the table and gave each other a one armed embrace, which left you leaning off to the side and trying not to look up Deku’s shirt.

Eventually, Kaminari sat down, and Deku shared another half embrace with Mina and a fist bump with Sero. Then the looming green-haired man pulled back and smiled down at you.

“And it was really nice to meet you, um, Stitches?” He said it like a question.

Now you really had to change your passport.

Suddenly remembering your manners, you rushed to your feet and bowed your head slightly.

“The pleasure was all mine, uh, Midoriya,” you replied and then immediately started second guessing yourself. Should you have called him Deku? Used the -sama honorific instead of -san?

Thankfully, Deku just smiled and dipped his head back at you.

“I hope we meet again, I have a lot of questions I want to ask you before my next trip to America,” he said with a twinkle in his green eyes.

“Um, well, I’ll, uh, be at Kirishima’s agency for the next few weeks, and after that, um, well, he could tell you where my shop is, or give you my number, he has that, too,” you rambled before you bit the already raw spot on the inside of your cheek.

What were you doing? Japan’s Number One Hero didn’t want your number, he was just being polite.

“Oh, awesome!” Deku grinned. “I’ll be sure to get that from him.”

There was no way that was true, but it was nice of him to keep up the façade.

“Actually, just sent you her number, dude,” Kirishima jumped in, and when your gaze snapped to the redhead, you found him smiling and holding up his phone.

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. He didn’t just share your number with Japan’s Number One hero…

“Got it!” Said hero held up his phone in return, and now you had to wonder if you had actually slipped and cracked your head on the steps leading up to the bar and were now just languishing in some kind of torturous coma.

“Ooh, shoot that over to me, too, Kiri,” Mina said as she took out her phone.

“No, put it in the group chat!” Kaminari argued.

You just stared around in shock until Deku’s low, quiet laughter caught your attention. When you shifted to look at him, you found him smiling at you.

“Popularity can be a little overwhelming, huh?” he asked.

You nodded mutely.

“Well, whenever it gets a little much for me, I just like to remind myself that if so many people are liking me, I must be doing something right,” he chuckled before he pulled his cap a little further onto his curls and popped the collar of his jacket. “But also, you can tell them no sometimes. You’re entitled to that, even if they are heroes.”

“I’ll… keep that in mind,” you said as you nervously twisted the rings on your fingers.

“Good.” Deku nodded with another smile before he lifted his hand in a wave. “Have a good night, you guys! And happy birthday again, Denki!”

“Thanks, man, have a good shift!” Kaminari waved back, echoed by the others with similar sentiments.

“Be safe,” you muttered as you also waved goodbye, and soon Deku was ducking his head and ducking back into the crowd of the bar. Now, you were the only one left awkwardly standing, but thankfully Kirishima spoke up and grabbed everyone’s attention.

“Well,” he sighed, “I better find Bakubro and make sure he’s alright.”

“He probably left,” Sero snorted and downed another cup of sake.

Kirishima frowned but didn’t argue, and he didn’t get up, which meant he most likely agreed with Sero.

“His loss,” Kaminari scoffed. “I’m just about to order the second round. And maybe a few entrées for the table to share.”

“I am still a little hungry,” Kirishima said before his eyes found yours. “Are you okay with sticking around a little longer? Sero’s right, Bakugo probably split, but we can just hang for another hour.”

“Wooow, are we so terrible?” Mina smirked.

“Yes, but I promised Stitches dinner, and appetizers just aren’t going to cut it,” Kirishima shot back playfully, but his gaze flicked to yours again. “If that’s alright with you?”

“Of course.” You smiled and hoped it didn’t come off as strained as you felt. “I’m having a great time, you don’t have to worry about me. But, um, I actually wanted to run to the bathroom real quick if that’s okay.”

“Sure—” Kirishima started.

“I’ll take you!” Mina cut him off as she started to rise from the table.

“No!” you said, a little more sharply than you intended, and Mina froze half out of the booth. “Sorry, I mean, if you need to, of course you can come with me, but don’t get up on my account. I-I saw the bathrooms on the way in, so I know the way.”

“Are you sure?” Mina asked with a frown.

“Positive.” You nodded. “You guys just order another round of drinks and food, and I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Any requests?” Kirishima asked as you started to turn away.

“Surprise me!” you said over your shoulder, and then you slipped off into the bar.

You had lied to Mina. You hadn’t seen the bathrooms on the way in, so you stumbled blindly through the crowd, simultaneously keeping your head down so you wouldn’t meet anyone’s eye, and darting quick glances around at the walls for any signage.

After bumping into half a dozen drunk people— or maybe you were the drunk one, you did feel a little more unsteady than usual in your boots— you finally found the women’s bathroom. There was a line of course, but it wasn’t very long, and you were immensely grateful to not be the object of anyone’s attention for a minute. Unfortunately, you hadn’t lied about needing to use the bathroom, so you were practically dancing on your tiptoes by the time you stumbled into the stall.

Damn alcohol always went right through you.

Once you’d relieved yourself, you shuffled over to the sink to wash your hands. Several women were fixing their hair and makeup in the mirror, and you winced when you caught sight of your reflection. You hadn’t worn much makeup to begin with, so most of that was still intact, but your hair was frizzy from the humidity in the bar, and the clip keeping your bun in place was starting to hurt your head. You sighed as you took it out, running you damp fingers over your hair to try and tame the worst of it. In the end, there wasn’t much difference, but the headache just starting up in your temples had receded a bit, so you took that as a win.

Slipping the hair clip into your pocket, you gave your reflection one last tired glance— trying to ignore how you swayed on your feet— before you summoned up your courage again and walked back out of the bathroom.

Your feet were a little slow and reluctant, but you were making your way back to the table when a sudden blast of cooler air made you stop. You glanced to the right to see a glass door swinging closed and leading out onto a patio, strung with lights. It was a little too cold tonight, so all of the outside tables that you could see were empty, only a few smokers hovering as close as they could to the bar door.

But beyond them, you could see a silhouette topped with familiar ash-blond hair, leaning against the railing overlooking the street…

You hesitated there in the doorway. You knew that you should return to the table because Kirishima and the others would worry about you if you were gone too long, and it was Kaminari’s birthday, but… you recalled the look on Bakugo’s face when he stormed off. He seemed genuinely angry, upset. Had Kaminari’s joke really dug that deep under his skin? Or… was it a joke? Something about Bakugo’s reaction told you it wasn’t, but the fact that he hadn’t had a significant other seemed… ludicrous. Katsuki Bakugo was too handsome for his own good, bordering on beautiful, with his pale, sharp features and piercing red eyes. And that was not to mention his strength and prowess as a pro hero. Every woman, and more than a few men, in Japan wanted to be with him. Had he really never taken anyone up on the offer?

A sudden cold breeze slapping you in the face yanked you from your thoughts, and you discovered that you had somehow walked over to the door, opened it, and stepped outside without your conscious permission.

You panicked, about to turn and go back in, but then red eyes glanced over a broad shoulder and stabbed right into you, and you knew it was too late to go back now.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Bakugo couldn’t understand why he hadn’t gone home already. He should have. He’d already stormed off from the table, and Shitty Hair would probably assume he’d left already, which he should have.

Instead, for some inexplicable reason, he was standing in the cold night air, glaring off the patio and down onto the shadowed street about six feet below. He still felt warmer than he should have, which told him he’d drank more than he intended, but fuck it. The idiots inside had been getting on his last goddamn nerve.

First, it was Dunceface and Tapeface drooling all over you. Sero was less obvious, but Bakugo had seen the glint of interest in his eyes when he stared at you, asked you questions. And Kaminari had been just a step below popping a fucking boner all night. Bakugo saw the way his eyes kept trailing toward your cleavage.

Not that he was staring at your cleavage. Well… maybe a little, but only when you leaned over the table to refill your glass or grab some food…

“Fuck,” Bakugo snarled under his breath, shaking his head.

He had spent the whole night convincing himself he didn’t care about you or what you thought, doing his best to just drink and ignore you, but his eyes kept trailing back to you no matter how much he fought it. He’d clocked how your stiff and awkward posture had gradually relaxed with more alcohol, how you blushed so fiercely every time Dunce or Tapeface threw a compliment your way. Then fucking Deku had to go and show up, and you went all starry-eyed, fumbling over your words more than you had been all night, staring at the nerd like everyone else did, like he hung the goddamn moon.

Listening to the two of you talk about America, something Bakugo had no context for, had gotten under his skin, dug deep and writhing through his bones. You’d been smiling as you described your hometown, and Deku had been his usual ray of fucking sunshine self as he listed all the places he’d traveled to in your country.

That would have been the worst of it, and something Bakugo could have handled, but then Kaminari had to go and open his fucking mouth.

He had tried not to listen, tried not to be interested, but he would be lying if he said he hadn’t absently wondered some of the same questions Kaminari asked. And though he would never say so out loud, he had to agree with Denki on one thing. American men must be stupid. You were… far from ugly and obviously intelligent, but the latter might have been a turn off from what Bakugo knew of Americans. Either way, your single status surprised him, and a kernel of… something had unfurled in his chest at the revelation. Bakugo refused to acknowledge it as excitement.

He’d attempted to drown out the sensation with whisky, but between Mina trying to pimp you out, everyone suddenly calling you Stitches when that was his name for you, and goddamn Dunceface calling him out on his lack of relationship history, the alcohol had just turned that not-excitement into anger.

He hadn’t meant to react, but the fire in his veins had propelled him to his feet, and he could still hear the clattering dishes in his mind. He’d fully intended to tell the whole table to just go to hell, but then he’d seen you staring up at him with wide, surprised eyes, and his anger had quickly twisted into embarrassment. He’d stomped off to save some face, but he wasn’t sure he had succeeded.

Now, here he was, standing alone on a bar patio and hunching against the wind. When he’d initially stormed out here, there had been almost a dozen smokers scattered across the deck, but one look at Bakugo’s scowling face had sent most scurrying back inside. The few who remained had retreated near the bar door, but Bakugo could feel them glancing at him every now and then. He didn’t know if they recognized him or just sensed the enraged aura rolling off him, but Bakugo didn’t give a shit either way.

A high-pitched laugh on the street below drew the blond’s attention, and he glanced down from where he was leaning against the railing. A woman had staggered drunkenly into the street, teetering on her too high heels. A man was stumbling behind her, and although Bakugo could hear the murmur of their voices, he couldn’t hear the actual words they were saying. Then the woman laughed again, twirling in circles like a ballerina as she threw her arms out to the side. She faltered on the uneven asphalt and lost her balance, but the man suddenly swooped her up into his arms and spun her around into a dramatic dip. The woman giggled as she wound her arms around the man’s neck and kissed him, and the two of them swayed in the middle of the street like they were the only people in the world.

Bakugo sneered at them with the disgust he typically regarded overly affectionate couples with, but then, unbidden, he had the thought that you had a much nicer laugh than the woman on the street. You were just as clumsy, even when you were sober, but Bakugo suddenly wondered what it would feel like to have you in his arms, to dance with you and dip you like the man below had done. He imagined you would probably step on his foot at every turn, but it wouldn’t be so bad, especially if you were giggling in his ear like you had in his car last night…

The blond slammed his eyes closed and vigorously shook his head. He needed to stop thinking about you. The drinking hadn’t worked, but maybe if he found someone else to occupy his thoughts for the night…

Bakugo pushed off the railing and half turned to reenter the bar, but then he paused. The idea of going back inside, ordering another drink, and trying to find a one-night stand was suddenly very unappealing to him. His friends would probably spot him before long and call him out, poke fun at his attempt to get laid, which even just the thought of that happening irritated him. Then there was just the whole song and dance that he hated. Walking up to a woman or waiting for one to approach him. Buying them a drink. Engaging in useless small talk. It all sounded… terrible.

He really should just go home.

But then, inevitably, his thoughts drifted back to you. Was he really going to just leave you with his idiot friends? God knows what shit they were spouting now. They could be doing irreputable damage to Dynamight’s reputation.

And why do you care so much about what Stitches thinks? a voice that sounded annoyingly like Kirishima taunted in his head.

Bakugo gritted his teeth, but before he could even reprimand himself, he heard the bar door opening behind him. His hero training made him glance back, as he had every other time the door had opened, but this time, it wasn’t another smoker standing in the threshold.

No, it was you, of course it was you, standing there like the blond’s thoughts had summoned you. Your eyes were wide in your alcohol-flushed face, and even from a distance, he could see the panic in your gaze. He expected you to turn around and retreat back inside, but you surprised him by letting the door close behind you. Then you just stood there, shifting awkwardly on your feet, like you were waiting for permission to join him.

Unfortunately, the smokers got to you first.

“Hey, baby, need to bum a cig?” a man with short black hair asked. He dug around in his leather jacket for a crumpled pack of cigarettes and then extended them to you, and the two other men he was with shared an excited smirk before they aimed their leers back at you.

Bakugo immediately tensed.

“O-Oh, no, thank you,” you stammered, fidgeting with the slim brown belt around your waist.

“What, not your brand?” The man smirked but didn’t withdraw his hand.

“No, I-I just don’t smoke,” you murmured.

“Ever tried?” one of the other men asked. His buzzed hair was short against his scalp and dyed blond with patterns zigzagging through the stubble.

“Yeah, don’t knock it till you tried it,” the third man said. He was shorter than the others, with blood red hair thrown up into a knot at the top of his head, giving him a few extra inches.

“I have, um, back in college, but I quit.” You shifted from side to side on your feet, and Bakugo noticed you were subtly inching away from the men.

Part of him absently wondered if you were lying or not about the smoking, but the majority of him was laser focused on the three assholes that apparently couldn’t take a fucking hint.

“Wooow, a woman of discipline, how rare,” the first man drawled as his filthy eyes flicked up and down your body, and then he jostled the pack of cigarettes in his hand again. “Are you sure I can’t tempt you?”

“I’m sure, but I appreciate the offer,” you said with a nervous smile.

Bakugo had already turned fully to face you and the men, palms slowly starting to heat up with his quirk, but you hadn’t glanced at him at all since this interaction started. Did you not want his help?

“Alright.” The dark-haired man shrugged and pocketed the cigarettes before taking a drag off the lit one he still held in his other hand. “You don’t have to smoke to hang with us. What’s your name? Mine’s Yoshida.”

“Nice to meet you, Yoshida,” you said, emphasizing the -san honorific and being disgustingly, perfectly polite. “But, um, I can’t stay, I actually have to—”

“Aww, no, come on,” the guy with the buzzcut cajoled, smiling slyly around the cigarette hanging from his lips. “Just chill with us for a bit. You’re much prettier company than Yosh, here.”

“Shut up, Kyo,” Yoshida scoffed, but then his eyes dragged over you again, and Bakugo felt something ignite in his chest. “He’s right, though. You are very pretty. Much prettier than my last girlfriend. Sure you can’t stay?”

“I-I’m sure.”

“At least tell us your name before you go,” the redhead with the topknot said. Then he took a step to the side, blocking your path forward, and suddenly the three men had almost surrounded you, closing in like a pack of wild dogs.

“I…” You faltered, panic clear on your face, before your eyes finally flicked to Bakugo’s.

The message in them was clear. Help me.

Bakugo crossed the patio in three long strides.

“There a fuckin’ problem here?” he grunted as he shouldered past Topknot to stand beside and a little in front of you.

Topknot stumbled into his friends, and the three of them teetered, off balance. It was then that Bakugo smelled the alcohol practically seeping from the bastards’ pores, and he wrinkled his nose at the stench.

“Woah, what the fuck, dude?” The man named Yoshida righted himself first and then threw a glare at Bakugo. “You made me drop my cig.”

“Sounds like it’s time for you to get the fuck back inside then,” Bakugo sneered.

“Hey, we’re just talking to our new friend here, you’re the one with the problem, asshole.” Topknot puffed himself up to his full height, which still barely put him above Bakugo’s shoulder, and the blond smirked down at him maliciously.

“The grownups are talking, why don’t you go find a booster seat and then come and find me?” he taunted.

Topknot’s face went as red as his hair, and Bakugo let more of his quirk trickle into his hands, his fingertips starting to glow. The other two men shifted on their feet, and he saw Buzzcut dropping his cigarette butt and putting it out under his heel. All three men widened their stances like they were getting ready for a fight, and all Bakugo could think was good.

His blood had been roiling all night. It would feel good to let off a little steam.

“Bakugo,” you muttered in a tight voice, your hand finding his elbow, but the moment you said his name, all three men paled.

“W-Wait…” Yoshida blinked and then squinted at the blond, trying to see through the shadows of the patio and the haze of the liquor. “Bakugo as in… Bakugo Katsuki?”

“Holy shit,” Buzzcut breathed, eyes widening. “I thought I recognized him, but… i-it’s fucking Dynamight.”

Bakugo bared his teeth, angry at the sudden cowardice in their gazes. “So what? Didn’t you have something to say to me a second ago?”

Topknot sneered at the condescension in the blond’s tone and opened his mouth to retort, but Yoshida abruptly elbowed him in the gut.

“N-No, Dynamight,” Yoshida then stuttered, bowing his head and practically simpering as he added the -sama at the end. “We apologize. We… didn’t realize she was with you.”

“Y-Yeah, if we knew she was yours, we would have never bothered her.” Buzzcut nodded vigorously in agreement, and while Topknot continued to glower, he didn’t say anything else.

Bakugo narrowed his eyes in a red-hot glare, but his rage was quickly being displaced by your hand tightening on his elbow and the words she and yours cycling through his head and searing through his already blazing veins.

Still, he couldn’t let them get away without any punishment.

Humiliation would have to do in lieu of his fists.

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to,” he growled.

The men blinked in confusion before they seemed to realizing you were still standing behind him, and when Bakugo curled his upper lip and flicked his gaze to the ground, Yoshida and Buzzcut instantly dropped to their knees, yanking Topknot down with them.

“We are deeply sorry for bothering you, ma’am,” Yoshida said with his forehead pressed to the deck of the patio. “W-We’ve maybe had too much to drink tonight.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes at the pathetic excuse, but then you cleared your throat.

“It’s al— I forgive you,” you amended yourself midsentence, and Bakugo could feel you shaking slightly as you pressed into his side. “But, um, next time, when a woman tells you she’s not interested, you should listen to her.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Yoshida intoned, his head still resting against the patio floor.

A beat of awkward silence passed as Bakugo glared down at the men in contempt.

“Well?” he finally snapped when the bastards didn’t move. “Are you waiting to be fucking dismissed?”

The three men scrambled to their feet and shoved each other out of the way to reach the door first. Yoshida and Buzzcut practically fell into the bar, but Topknot cast one more glare over his shoulder before the door closed behind him.

For a moment, the only sound on the patio was the whistling breeze and the murmur of music and voices from inside the bar.

“Seem to be making this a habit, Stitches,” Bakugo finally grunted as he turned to look down at you.

Your face was still pink—whether from adrenaline or alcohol now, he couldn’t tell— and he realized that your hair was no longer up in a bun. Instead, it hung loose around your shoulders, framing your face, and he had to fight the sudden urge to catch a lock and run it between his fingers.

He told himself to take a step back, put some distance between the two of you, but his boots stayed rooted to the deck. He blamed the fact that his blood still felt more like whisky, sluggishly pumping through his blood vessels.

“Yeah, well,” you sighed, drawing his attention. “Some men seem to take breathing as an open visitation. Hopefully, those guys will think twice about it next time, but…”

Bakugo frowned at the resignation in your tone. “Does this shit happen to you all the time?”

“I-I mean, not all the time,” you stuttered and averted your gaze. “I don’t go out enough for it to be a real problem. But it’s not… uncommon for a man to say something to me or brush up against me on the train.”

The fading embers in his chest roared back to life at the thought of men accosting you regularly, and Bakugo found himself wishing he had drawn some blood from those bastards.

“Fuckers,” he spat instead, glowering at the bar door like he could still pierce them with his gaze.

“I-It’s fine, Bakugo. It’s really not something to get too upset over.”

“Fuck yeah, it is.” He scowled. “You should be pissed. Assholes aren’t entitled to speak to you, let alone touch you.”

Pot calling the kettle black, a voice whispered in his head, but this one sounded more like his own than Kirishima’s.

“I understand what you’re saying, but if I did that, I would be pissed all the time.” You shook your head, gold earrings glinting in the string lights and distracting him for a moment.

“So what?” he asked when he got back on track. “Then be pissed all the time.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but being angry for that long would just be exhausting to me.” You smiled faintly, a teasing hint to your expression.

Bakugo huffed but couldn’t hold onto his full anger. “Don’t know what you’re talking about. My stamina must just be better than yours.”

“I don’t doubt it,” you laughed, and it was the first time all night that he had heard the sound without a nervous undertone.

He didn’t know what to say in the wake of his evaporating anger, didn’t know what to say with you smiling up at him while still close enough that your arm brushed his.

“Good,” was what he settled on, and he injected as much cockiness as he could into the word in the hopes of covering up how unbalanced he suddenly felt.

Silence settled over the pair of you again, and you shivered in the brisk wind as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Well, um, I’m sorry for disturbing your peace and quiet out here,” you muttered, averting your gaze to the far railing. “I just… saw you through the door and, uh, wanted…”

“Wanted what?” he asked when you trailed off into silence.

“To… make sure you were alright,” you finished, and your cheeks grew a little more pink. “You, um, just seemed… upset when you left, so I wanted to… apologize.”

“What the fuck are you apologizing for now?” Bakugo scoffed. You were seriously ridiculous with that shit.

“I don’t know,” you muttered and dropped your gaze to your feet. “My presence? You didn’t seem… excited about the idea of me joining you guys earlier, and then I kinda felt like the others were… poking fun at you on my behalf, so… I’m sorry for ruining your night or whatever.”

You kicked the toe of your boot into the wooden deck, scuffing the already worn brown leather. Bakugo couldn’t see your face since your were ducking your head, but he could read your cowed body language, and he was speaking before he even knew what he was going to say.

“You didn’t ruin shit,” he muttered, but now he suddenly couldn’t look at you, so he turned to stare out toward the railing again. “Those idiots are always like that. Just don’t listen to half the shit they say. That’s what I do.”

“Duly noted,” you said, and when he glanced back at you, he found a slight smirk tugging at your lips.

He stared at them for a moment and recalled the dancing couple in the street, and he wondered what would happen if he pulled you in right now and—

“Shit,” you cursed in English at a stronger gust of wind, fighting back a full body shiver. Bakugo could see goosebumps rising on your forearms, your collarbones, and he clicked his tongue.

“Let’s get back inside before you fuckin’ freeze to death,” he muttered and stepped toward the bar door, but you caught the sleeve of his jacket and stopped him.

“Wait,” you said, biting your lip and hesitating for a moment before you continued. “Can we just… say out here for one more minute? It’s a little cold, but it’s kind of refreshing. Plus, it’s helping me sober up.”

“How much did you drink?” Bakugo frowned.

“Enough.” You blushed. “What else was I supposed to do when I was suddenly meeting four of the most famous people in the country?”

Something ugly squirmed beneath his ribcage, pushing the next words out of his mouth without his permission.

“Don’t worry, you impressed fuckin’ Deku, so you can unclench,” he scoffed before he turned and stomped back to the patio railing.

“Do you think?” you asked as you trailed after him, sounding so hopeful, oblivious to the way he gritted his teeth. “I just… wanted to make a good impression on your friends.”

That gave him pause, and he stared down at you as he leaned against the railing.

“Why?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“Why what?” You blinked up at him, suddenly too close again as you used him as a shield against the wind.

“You said you wanted to impress my friends, not ‘pro heroes.’ Why do you give a shit if my ‘friends’ like you?”

“I—” Your eyes widened, cheeks darkening with a fresh blush, and you quickly averted your gaze as you started to fiddle with the pendant resting against your chest. “I just, um…”

You trailed off, unable to come up with the words, and Bakugo felt that thing that definitely wasn’t excitement unfurl in his chest again.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Stitches.” He smirked.

“Shut up, Dynamight,” you muttered, shooting him a glare that was more of a pout, and fuck. Fuck.

He wanted to kiss you. He fucking admitted it. He wanted to goddamn kiss you.

Bakugo tried to recall every reason why he shouldn’t, why he couldn’t, but his train of thought derailed and exploded when you shivered again, crossing your arms under your breasts and pushing them up as you huddled into yourself.

“I can hear your fuckin’ teeth clacking,” he said distantly, fighting to bring his gaze up to your face.

“S-Sorry,” you chattered. “I, um, didn’t have a jacket that went with this outfit.”

“Tch.” Bakugo clicked his tongue and was shedding his bomber jacket in one motion. “Here, before your lips turn blue.”

“O-Oh, no, I— ohhhhhhh,” you sighed as he stepped forward and flung the jacket over your shoulders. “That’s so warm.”

“No, you’re just becoming hypothermic,” he grumbled, tugging his bomber more securely over you. Then he realized the two of you are standing chest to chest, with his arms basically wrapped around you. You were so small, tucked into the hollow of his torso, and he suddenly got a whiff of the shampoo in your hair, recognizing it as the one they always kept stocked at the agency.

Something about the sight of you in his jacket, smelling like his agency, riled him up, and his eyes were drifting to your lips again.

No, fuck. What was he doing? He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this.

He was the Number Two hero in Japan. He had his career to focus on. He still needed to usurp Deku, and that wouldn’t happen if he was distracted. Plus, as the Number Two hero, he had his fair share of enemies, and you were a goddamn seamstress, you didn’t need that kind of heat.

Furthermore, he didn’t do relationships. As Dunceface had so gleefully pointed out, Bakugo had never had a significant other. He didn’t have the time, energy, or even the fucking motivation to try with that bullshit. He’d had several one-night stands, but that was the extent of what he wanted.

Except, with you, it would be different. He could tell. He had thought about bedding you, just to get it out of his system, but now, after seeing how Kaminari and Sero salivated over you, the notion of letting you go after, pushing you away like he had with the others, rubbed him the wrong way. No, if he had you, he wanted you. He remembered the way Yoshida and Buzzcut had called you his, and something dark and possessive purred inside him, clawing to make those words truth.

And Bakugo didn’t like that, didn’t like feeling out of control. He was a grown man and a goddamn pro hero. He should be in control of himself.

So he couldn’t kiss you, no matter how much he wanted to. He needed to keep his distance, remind himself that you were just supposed to be his healer until he found a more permanent solution for his hearing. It didn’t matter how pretty you were, how interesting he found the tidbits of your life that you had shared with his friends tonight. It didn’t matter that he thought you were ridiculously stubborn, idiotically kind, and stupidly brave.

None of it mattered because he couldn’t do this. Wasn’t doing this. You were drunk and better off without him anyway, even fucking Raccoon Eyes said so without knowing. You deserved someone nice, someone who complimented you and took you dancing in the middle of the street. Hell, from the look in Dunceface’s eyes earlier, he was already halfway in love with you, and even though he was a fucking moron, he was a good guy. He would treat you right.

The image of Kaminari pulling you in close suddenly jumped to the forefront of Bakugo’s mind. He imagined the other blond tucking a strand of hair behind your ear like Bakugo had wanted to do on several occasions, envisioned the electric hero smiling, dipping you with a dramatic flourish, and then leaning in to kiss you…

Black rage reared its head in Bakugo’s mind.

No, mine, that should be me.

Without realizing it, Bakugo had stepped even closer to you, and he only snapped back to himself when he felt your shaky breath skating across his collarbone. His red eyes flicked down to find yours, wide and shocked, and he watched as your tongue darted out to wet your dry lips.

“Um, B-Bakugo,” you whispered, and he noticed your hands were shaking where they were clenched against your chest, cinching his jacket around your shoulders.

That logical, practical voice was screaming in the back of his head, but it sounded distant and tiny, drowned out by the blood pounding in his ears. He ignored it entirely as he reached up and finally, finally, caught a strand of your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

Your breath whooshed out of you all at once, and Bakugo could see your pulse stutter in the hollow of your throat.

“Stitches,” he murmured. “Tell me to fuck off.”

It was a last-ditch effort and a cowardly one, pawning the responsibility off on you. But the blond couldn’t even find it in himself to care as you parted your lips and met his gaze dead on.

“What… what if I don’t want to?” you whispered, leaning into him until the two of you were sharing the same air.

“Assholes aren’t entitled to touch you, remember?” he rasped.

“But what if I give permission?”

“You’re drunk.”

“Tipsy,” you corrected in a breathless voice. “And so are you.”

“Doesn’t make it better.”

You frowned, and before he could stop you, you reached up and placed your hands on either side of his head. The cool, tingling sensation of your quirk rushed through him a moment later, and then clear, startling sobriety took its place. It was like he’d been dunked in the Arctic Ocean, and Bakugo inhaled sharply.

Because now the logical side of him was loud, shouting at the forefront of his mind. Suddenly, all those reasons why he shouldn’t kiss you came roaring back, and the blond knew he needed to step away.

But your voice made him hesitate.

“There,” you said, still close enough that your breath brushed his chin. “Now, neither of us is drunk.”

Yeah, that was the problem.

Bakugo opened his mouth to say as such, but you were abruptly raising up onto your tiptoes, your lips brushing his in the most innocent peck. You dropped back onto your heels before he could even process anything, and then you blinked up at him with eyes full of hope and uncertainty. As the seconds passed, the hope started to fade, replaced by fear, and you tugged your lower lip between your teeth, worrying it until it was cherry red.

Fuck. Bakugo felt the last of his resolve splintering into nothing, and he lifted a hand to cup your face. Your cheek was crimson but somehow cold beneath his hot palm, and it was oh so very soft.

“You’re making a mistake, Stitches,” he warned, but before you could come back to your senses, he dove down and slanted his mouth across yours.

98 notes · View notes