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tigerlilla · 1 year

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act like you like me

(part three) two one

“what is this place?” you frowned, stepping out of bakugo’s car.

bakugo ignored your question, instead placing his hand on the small of your back, his fingers pushing you towards the front door. you stood in front of what looked like a rundown club, the windows tinted black and a suspicious sign in front that had been painted over.

he opened the front door and followed you inside. it was dark, can lights and candles giving some light to the bar. a few people sat at the bar, all quiet and looking down. there was a table in the corner with a small group of people talking quietly, their faces hidden from you. bakugo led you past the bar and to a small room off the main space.

bakugo slipped open the door to the room, sliding in and pulling you in behind him. the laughter in the room stopped as you blinked, eyes adjusting from the dark hall.

there was a poker table in the middle of the room, pro-heroes sitting around it and staring at you. pinky, uravity, chargebolt, red riot, cellophane, shoto and creati, even deku, current number one.

you pulled on bakugo’s sleeve.

“katsuuuukkii!!!” mina squealed, hopping up from her seat and tackling bakugo in a huge hug. she quickly turned her attention to you, “oh my god, you are so much cuter in person!” she hugged you too, not noticing your frown at her backhanded compliment. “‘suki, you bagged a babe. i’m so proud of you!”

“i told you she was a cutie,” dylan chimed in, walking into the room behind you. “everyone, this is-“

“we know who she is,” chargebolt interrupted, waving a hand full of cards at you. “we haven’t even started yet. we can deal you both in.”

you turnned to bakugo, asking under your breath, “what the hell is this?”

“a surprise,” he deadpanned. your left eye twitched.

“a surprise is going to the aquarium or my favorite restaurant, not meeting half the fucking top ten pros in a shitty bar,” you hissed, tuning out the resumed conversation the off-the-clock heroes were having.

“this was dyl-“

dylan called your name from his spot sprawled across kirishima’s lap. “what’s wrong, doll?”

you turned to him, plastering a smile on your face, “nothing! i’m so excited to have been invited. i’ve never played poker before.”

“‘suki can show you,” mina said, gesturing you over to a chair next to her. “you guys have to share a seat so you can share a hand too.” she giggled, her pink curls bouncing. you looked around, there was only one open chair at the table. fucking dylan.

dylan got up from kirishima’s lap, “we’ll get drinks. bakugo, go sit down.” he whisked you away, back out the door and into the dark hall.

“oh my god,” you wheezed. “this is a nightmare. i’m going to embarrass bakugo and myself in front of all his friends.” you wiped a sweaty palm down your face. “this was not a surprise, this was an ambush.” you glared at the model.

dylan winced, “i’m sorry. this was my idea. i thought meeting bakugo’s friends might help…calm your nerves.” he steered you towards the bar.

“the thought was sweet, but dyl, how would meeting some of my childhood icons over a game of cards knowing that they’ve probably read at least five negative articles about me in the past 24 hours calm me down,” you replied, trying to smooth out the crease in your forehead.

dylan frowned, “well, when you put it like that i sound like an asshole.”

“i’m just hoping none of them saw the story about the drug store worker who claims i buy hemorrhoid cream three times a week,” you pull at your temples.

“jesus,” dylan looks horrified. “you don’t actually do that, right?”

“of course not! oh my god, i’m mortified. bakugo’s probably so embarrassed by me-“

“stop. calm down. you’re okay. everyone in that room has had their fair share of scandals, true and false. no one will judge you. and if bakugo was embarrassed by you, he wouldn’t have brought you here.” he handed you a drink the bartender had wordlessly given to him, “drink. it’ll actually calm your nerves.”

you nodded, gulping down the fruity thing in your hand. dylan handed you another.

“good girl,” he poked your cheek. “now, let’s go back in there, take pictures with our hot boyfriends, and pretend we know lots about poker. it really is fun, mkay?”

“okay,” you gulped down your anxiety, “i’m just going to get bakugo a drink.”

“already on it,” dylan winked, passing you a beer.

dylan led you back to the room, offering you an encouraging smile. “we’re back!” he sang, entering the room.

bakugo sat at the poker table, occupying the last open seat, with cards splayed on the table in front of him. he accepted the beer with a small nod.

you stood behind his seat, trying to listen in to the heroes’ conversation.

dylan gave you the strangest look from his spot across the table. “what are you doing?” he mouthed. “sit down!”

“where?” you mouthed back.

he rolled his eyes, obviously annoyed you weren’t understanding. “oh wait,” he said aloud, “i need to get a cute picture of you two before i forget.” he pulled out his phone, aiming it at you.

you inched closer to bakugo’s chair, leaning down closer to him.

“jesus, what are you, siblings?” dylan sneered, gesturing you to scoot closer.

you blinked.

bakugo sighed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you onto his lap.

again, you blinked. you were sitting on bakugo’s thigh, your knees tucked in between his.

dylan squealed, “oh my god, i got the funniest picture. so cute!”

you tried not to move, not to focus on your proximity to bakugo, the way you could feel his thigh tense underneath you, his arm around your waist.

“relax,” bakugo said quietly into your ear, his breath warm against your cheek.

it did not help. your face was hot, every single nerve in your body was on edge, you felt like you were on fire.

“so how long have you two been dating?” creati asked from the seat next to you.

you could kiss her for distracting you. you had practiced how this conversation would pan out. “two months,” you smiled, “but it seems a lot longer.”

“and how did you meet?” she asked. everyone at the table quieted down to hear your response.

bakugo huffed. “none of yer business, damn-“

“well, i’m sure that you know this by now, but i work at a bakery and i’ve been working there for over a bit so i know our customers pretty well. this guy walks in with a baseball cap and his hood up and sunglasses, and it was cloudy outside, so i immediately knew something was up. he comes up to the counter and orders four croissants; one fruit, one cheese, one chocolate, and one plain.” for the first time all night, you’re not nervous. “he pays with the shiniest credit card i have ever seen in my life. then i put them all into one big box, but he barks that he wants them all in separate bags. so i take them out of the box and put each into a bag. once there’s three bags on the counter, he just takes them and bolts. i put the last one in the bag and look up to give it to him and he’s just gone.

“there was no one else in the shop and i figure he couldn’t have gotten far, so i go after him thinking that he might give me a good tip. he was already two blocks away. so im running after him yelling, “sir, sir,” and he’s just completely oblivious. he pulls down his hood and i swear that i know that spiky blonde hair. finally, he turned around and i caught up to him. he acts like he doesn’t recognize me so he pulls off his sunglasses to squint at me in that condescending way of his. i immediately recognize who it is, but i’m just standing there holding out the bag with the croissant like an idiot. bakugo took the bag and left, without even a thank you.”

chargebolt snorted, “sounds like bakugo. how’d he win you over?”

now you have to lie. and that makes you feel like shit.

“someone took a picture of us on the street, and of course it was taken out of context. the next day, bakugo comes back to make me sign some paper about the situation and then he just kept coming back. i would like to say that he came back because of me, but i think he likes my fig bars more than me.”

“a modern day fairy tale,” pinky sighed dreamily. “you’re lucky she chased after you, or you would be sad and lonely for the rest of your life,” she frowned at bakugo.

you turned to catch his expression, his face rolling with anger. he still had his arm wrapped lazily around your waist, even though you had begun to relax against him.

kirishima snorted, “are you dating him for the money? the fame? surely not the winning personality? ”

you smirked, “somewhere deep down inside his ridiculously muscular chest is a heart the size of a pea. and i fuckin love peas.”

…

you laughed, smiling at the women beside you.

“mina, you have not changed since high school,” jirou sighed, rolling her eyes.

“i was perfect then, perfect now,” mina winked, throwing cards down on the table.

“fuck, mina! how do you still not understand how to play this game,” denki whined, frustrated that his coaching wasn’t paying off.

“what’s the point when momo wins every time,” mina groaned, shooting daggers at momo, who smiled proudly while laying down her cards.

bakugo grumbled, tossing his cards on the table. “whatever. we’ve gotta go, the princess has work tomorrow morning.” he added under his breath, “‘n my leg’s fucking asleep.”

you slid off his lap, grabbing the jacket draped over the chair.

“byyyyeeee,” dylan sang, drunk and laying on the ground.

you giggled and waved your goodbyes as bakugo bro hugged his friends.

only once you were in bakugo’s car and on the way home did you drop your smile. “that was fun, but i’m exhausted,” you whined, rubbing at your sore cheeks. “you’re probably tired too, especially since you’re up past your bedtime.”

“i don’t have a bedtime,” bakugo growled. “i’m a grown man.”

you smiled, “seriously though, thank you for bringing me. i had a lot of fun.”

bakugo said nothing, half his face hidden in the shadow of the night.

“your friends are really nice,” you added.

bakugo scoffed, “you’re just glad fucking icy hot was there.”

“you are so bad at disguising your jealousy,” you replied, willing your face to remain a mask of indifference.

“i’m not fuckin’ jealous,” bakugo grunted, not meeting your eyes in the rear view mirror.

“mm,” you hummed, picking at your nails.

“don’t fuckin’ do that shit,” bakugo snarled, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

“what shit?” you asked, giving him your best doe face.

“yer whole fuckin’ act,” he growled, the light from the street lamps reflecting off the white of his teeth. “don’t act like you don’t give a shit.”

“drop your asshole delinquent act then,” you hissed. “no one thinks your “yer” is cute. i fucking hate it when you drop the end off words.”

bakugo ground his teeth and turned into his garage. “damn, you’re fucking frustrating.”

“you’re fucking frustrating! i make a joke and you get all mad and start going “yer” and “oi.” it drives me crazy.”

bakugo glared at you, huffing and puffing.

“what are you doing?” you started to laugh, “did you just fucking puff out your chest?”

“what?” bakugo’s face twisted. “i fucking didn’t.”

you continued to laugh, stitches running up your sides.

“oi! stop fucking laughing,” he puffed, face red.

“there! you just did it!” you laughed. you lowered your voice and growled, “oi!” you cracked up again, doubling over in the passenger seat while bakugo glared at you.

“don’t see what’s funny,” bakugo grumbled, pretending to be annoyed, but you could see the red tinge to his ears and the small curve of his lips he was trying so hard to hide. “i’m going in,” he huffed, yanking your stuffed backpack out of the backseat.

you followed him inside, wiping the tears from your eyes. you were quiet in the elevator, quiet as he unlocked the door, and still quiet as bakugo passed you your bag outside the door to the bedroom you were borrowing.

you took the bag, “thank you.” he grunted. you dumped the contents of your bag on the wooden floor, digging out the pair of shorts you were eager to change into.

bakugo paused in your doorway, frowning before he left and slammed the door shut on his own bedroom.

whoever said women were overly dramatic had clearly never met bakugo.

you ignored his sour attitude. although, he wasn’t grumpy until you picked on him. you changed into shorts and a tshirt and spread your things across the floor searching for your toothbrush. you found it and continued on with your nightly routine, taking over the counter of katsuki’s guest bathroom.

when you were done, you lightly knocked on bakugo’s door. “katsuki? i just wanted to say thank you for-“ he opened the door, his freshly washed face inches from yours. “oh, hi.” you stepped away, stumbling against your door frame. “anyways, i wanted to thank you for tonight. i had a lot of fun and i appreciate the effort you put into it.” there. you offered an olive branch of peace.

bakugo crossed his arms, leaning back against the frame of his door. he’d changed too, swapping his black dress pants for black sweatpants and a band tshirt. you blinked. he took his red eyes off you, glancing out the window into the night. “it was mostly dylan’s idea. i fuckin’ hate poker. i‘m shit at it. don’t tell ‘em though.”

you smiled, “i’ll trade you a secret for a secret.” he turned his gaze back to you. you met those fire red eyes straight on, maybe the drinks were kicking in. “i love it when you slip into your bumpkin hoodlum accent. it’s super cute.” you slid back into your room, never breaking eye contact. “good night, katsuki,” you nearly whispered, closing the door gently.

you tiptoed across the floor, quietly crawling onto your bed and burying your head into your pillow.

what had you gotten yourself into?

…

bakugo stood rooted in that spot, leaning cockily against the door, arms crossed.

he stood there, completely still, brain going a million miles a minute, trying to process what happened. the whole night. the past hour. the last minute.

why did he care so much about the way you smiled at him at the stupid poker night? why did he care about the way you snapped back at his snarky comments and then always found a way to take it back? why did he care if he could still feel you leaning back against him, completely at ease, making jokes with his friends?

why did he care about you at all?

…

“good morning, dylan,” you practically sang, your phone tucked between your shoulder and chin, your hands full with a tray of cranberry scones.

“you seem to be in a good mood,” dylan beamed, you could tell through the phone. “my plan worked wonderfully.”

“yeah, it did. there wasn’t a mob ready to crucify me this morning, thank god. and, katsuki insisted on driving me to work at six in the morning and he let me eat a bagel in his car. i don’t know what you said to him, but it worked.” you sighed blissfully.

this morning had been unbelievably nice. bakugo had a bagel on a plate for you the moment you stepped out of your bedroom and had refused to let you ride the bus. he was still his brash, arrogant self, but he was being thoughtful, something you’d seen more and more of in him. bakugo was quiet the whole drive over, not saying anything about the crumbs you got on his leather seats. he even offered to say the morning with you at the bakery, just to be sure there weren’t any crazy fans. you refused, of course. his job was more important. but the thought was nice. more than nice.

“what do you mean?” dylan asked. “i didn’t say anything to him.”

“you told me that kirishima was going to talk to him about his attitude with me,” you frowned. “that was your plan.”

“no,” you could hear dylan’s confusion. “my plan was to post a cute picture of you and bakugo last night and have it blow up.”

you arranged a plate of lemon scones for the countertop. “what?”

“i posted it late last night. i woke up this early just to get your reaction. go look.”

you did a quick search of your’s and bakugo’s name and there it was.

BAKUGO AND GF BREAK THE INTERNET AGAIN WITH PIC POSTED BY INFLUENCER FRIEND

you scrolled down to the picture. you were sitting on bakugo’s knee, turned into him, his arm wrapped around your waist. you smiled widely for dylan while bakugo gave the camera his typical stern frown. although somehow it was softer, less angry and more protective.

“i sent all the pictures to you and bakugo,” dylan added, obviously pleased with himself.

“thank you,” you replied, scrolling through the pictures he sent. one caught your eye, but you’d have to look at it later. “someone’s coming in, so i gotta go, but thank you so much. i appreciate it, dyl.”

the smile you gave the customer walking in the door wasn’t your typical early morning smile, strained and tired, but one that complimented the pink spread across your cheeks and the glint in your eye.

…

“hi,” you smiled at the blonde across the counter. “how was work?”

“fine,” bakugo replied, looking at you oddly. “why does yer face look like that?”

“i made you something,” you beamed up at him, holding up a plate with a brownie sitting in the middle.

he took the plate from you, face full of skepticism. bakugo took a bite before quickly spitting it back out on the plate.

“what?” your face sank. “is it that bad?”

“jesus fuck,” katsuki choked out. he stepped around you and went to the sink, drinking straight out of the faucet.

“really?” you felt the heat rise behind your eyes. “i’m sorry, i thought… i’m sorry.”

“what the hell was that?” bakugo gasped, leaning over the edge of the sink, the collar of his post work workout tshirt completely soaked. “are you sure you can bake?”

“i was trying to make spicy brownies,” you said quietly, trying to not burst into tears.

“what did you put in them?” he replied, eyes locked on you.

“cayenne and chili powder,” your lip shook. “and pop rocks.”

he looked at you like you were insane. maybe if the situation was different, you would have laughed at his face; his squinted eye, raised eyebrow, fierce frown.

“i was trying to make a dynamight brownie,” you admitted.

“too spicy and the popping candy is terrible,” bakugo spit into the sink, the pop of the candy sizzling in the basin.

“i’m sorry,” you frowned, turning back to the kitchen. you had twenty minutes until close.

bakugo caught the edge of your sleeve, “try again tomorrow, less spice.” his red eyes looked sad, like he knew his words sunk too deep this time.

you nodded, heading off to finish your work.

the two of you spent the rest of the night in a quiet peace. bakugo drove you back to his apartment after you closed the bakery, he made dinner while you flipped through a magazine on the couch, and he even let you turn on the food network tv channel after dinner. you’d offered to wash the dishes, but he had some fancy dishwasher that took care of it all.

“hey,” bakugo poked his head out of his bedroom, “i’m going to bed. night.”

“good night,” you gave him a small smile.

…

“can’t taste the spice at all,” bakugo frowned.

you groaned, turning to dump the pan in the trash.

“wait, i’ll take those to work tomorrow,” he stopped you, reaching for the treats.

you rolled your eyes, handing him the pan with a bite missing from the center.

you went back to work, making sure the pastries were ready to be put out in the morning and everything was where it should be. bakugo had scared the high schooler who helped out in the evenings, so he stuck to the back while you cleaned the front. poor thing.

you sighed once you slid into bakugo’s car, the leather seats the epitome of comfort. “how was your day?” you asked the pro.

“shit,” bakugo sighed, fingers right around the steering wheel. “fuckin kid almost drowned and my suit fuckin ripped.”

“don’t you have a backup?” you asked.

“yeah, but this one’s my favorite,” he pouted. you smiled at the number 3 hero whining about which costume was his favorite. “don’t laugh at me.” he growled.

“your suit, it’s polyester?” you asked. he nodded, glancing at you in the rear view mirror. “what about polypropylene? oh no, that burns easily. maybe nomex? it’s like kevlar but moisture wicking and it’s fire resistant. maybe you could reinforce your suit with it in the places with the most wear?”

bakugo turned into the garage. “you can meet with the design team. you’re off thursday?”

“we close at one,” you replied.

“i’ll take you then,” katsuki said, eyes meeting yours for just a moment before he jumped out of the car, already moving for his apartment.

bakugo cooked dinner while you sat at the bar, flipping through the fashion magazine that had been delivered to the bakery this morning. you read the interview with mount lady multiple times, soaking in the details of how her hero costume grew with her.

you switched over to a cookbook while you ate, bakugo on a barstool beside you, thumbing through a stack of forms. you asked him what they all were and he grumbled something about property damage. you didn’t push him.

you put the dishes in the dishwasher, swiping bakugo’s empty plate. “can i take a shower?” you asked, eyes on the blonde.

“you don’t need my permission,” bakugo didn’t raise his eyes from his paper.

so you grabbed a towel from the linen closet before closing the door to your room. you wrapped the towel around your bare body, your soaps in your arms, leaving your clothes in a pile on the floor. you quickly slid from your room to bakugo’s, closing the door behind you.

you eyed his room. it was neater than you expected; the bed made, nightstand clean, floor bare except for a black rug. his bed was massive, big enough for four people at least. most of the rest of his room was taken up by his all might bookshelf. the shelves were floor to ceiling, lined with books, magazines, bobble heads, trading cards, figurines. it was insane.

you moved to his bathroom. the shower was nice; walk in and spacious. his toothbrush sitting on the counter, other items laid out on a cabinet above the toliet. you were impressed.

you moved to the shower, dropping your towel on the ground. you turned the water as hot as it could go. bakugo kept his apartment freezing, claiming that his quirk kept him hot. the warm water was wonderful, you couldn’t help but moan. you were about to take the nicest shower of your entire fucking life.

…

katsuki blinked at the same document he’d been staring at for the past twenty minutes. he was on the first line when he heard you turn on the shower. he hadn’t gotten past that line. the words swam together and all he could focus on was the sound of water running through the pipes. if he really listened he could hear you humming some song he didn’t recognize.

the pro rubbed his eyes, read the first line again. the second line. the third. the shower. the noise was gone. bakugo sat up straighter, glancing at his closed bedroom door.

there you were, trying to quietly slip out of his room, stopping like a deer in headlights noticing his gaze on you. you offered a small smile, rushing into your room, closing the door behind you.

bakugo blinked. he looked back at his papers. he started at the fourth line. reread it. reread it again. again. all he could see was you standing there, his orange towel wrapped around your body, dripping water onto the hardwood floor.

you opened your door and he turned at the sound, red eyes on you once again. you padded back into his room, orange towel in hand. you hung it on the towel bar, next to his green one. his eyes were still on you when you walked back out, glued to where you stood in his doorframe.

“hi,” you said softly, leaning against the door.

katsuki’s eyes traveled down your body, taking in your tank top and sweatpants before flicking back up to your face. “hey,” he replied, voice barely more than a gravel whisper.

“wanna get ice cream?”

…

DYNAMIGHT’S MIDNIGHT SNACK

you smirked at that one. you were back home by 8:30. nothing could get in the way of bakugo’s sleep patterns.

someone had commented, “the snack is that ass!!! he won” which had you in a fit. you took a screenshot and sent it to bakugo.

bakugo: aren’t u supposed to be working?

you: aren’t you supposed to be working?

he didn’t reply.

you: okay i’m sorry please come back im bored out of my mind

bakugo: did u make my brownies?

you: i did but i haven’t tried them yet

“hey.”

you looked up, a smile spreading across your face. you would have recognized that voice anywhere. “i thought you were working.”

bakugo crossed his arms, the muscles rippling. that hero suit really was well designed. you noted that he wasn’t wearing his gauntlets, much to your approval. “‘m on my break.”

you pursed your lips, turning and grabbing the plate off the back counter. you were proud of these. you’d even iced an orange x on the front to match his uniform.

he took a bite, scrunched up his nose, then took another.

“i used cayenne and cinnamon this time. is it better?” you asked, frowning at his silence.

“give me another,” he said through the brownie in his mouth. “please.”

you slid him the whole pan. “i take it they’re good.”

“best fucking brownies,” bakugo grumbled, digging a chunk of out the pan with his bare hands.

you let out a satisfied hum, not bothering to hide your smirk. “oh, and the security company came by and they said that everything would be activated or whatever by friday. they said they’d call you.”

something like anger, or maybe disappointment, flashed in bakugo’s eyes. he quickly turned it off, giving you a nod. “i gotta go. pick you up at five.” he carried the pan out the door with him.

you waved bye to him through the window, blowing him a kiss with a smart ass grin plastered on your face.

NEXT PART

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