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hii can i ask for prompt 2 with bakugo for the drabble event? sfw pls !! thank u :)

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆

ও rating. sfw

ও prompt. “can I kiss you?” | wc. 500+

cw/ tw. friends to lovers, fluff

ও featuring. Bakugou x Fem!Reader

ও an. oh my gosh, I was so excited to see someone requested something for my favorite blasty boy:3 there was going to be angst, but I just miss him so there's nothing but some good ol' strangers to lovers vibes| tee's drabble event

The new girl running the front desk at the gym is going to be a problem.

It starts with her smiling too brightly as he walks in one morning, all teeth and that little twinkle in her eye that feels like trouble when she scans his membership card.

“Good morning, Mr. Dynamight.” 

“It’s just Bakugou,” he tells you as he takes his card off the counter. 

The following day, it’s the same, except Denki is there to make it worse.

He nudges Bakugou with his elbow. “She’s kinda pretty, huh?”

“Shut up,” he grumbles. “She’ll hear you, idiot.”

Whatever, he’s not blind, but he doesn’t have the time—even if she smiles at him like that and how he’ll think about it later: on missions, at his desk, during conference calls. See, a distraction in the disguise of a gym uniform polo and khaki pants.

Honestly, it’s that she—

(You try to make small talk with him every morning, and Bakugou is starting to think it’s just for him because on the days he doesn’t come alone, you merely scan his card and go back to reading the open book on the desk.)

That she almost—

(He bumps into you at the supermarket and makes a dumb joke about carrots that makes you laugh. He's a little tongue-tied and awkward afterward because he wants to hear it again. Instead, he tosses daikon in his basket and walks away.)

It’s nothing—

(Bakugou doesn’t know what he’s doing the first time he invites you on a night out to meet his friends. He’s dated and had hook-ups before, but this isn’t like that. His palms are sweaty, more than usual, and no amount of wiping them on the thighs of his jeans keeps them dry. Then you walk into the bar in a maroon dress, and he wishes he wasn’t introducing you as his friend.)

But she—

(You start sending him texts in the morning. Never an actual good morning text, but of: the dogs you take on walks, the sunrise, the new flower box in your window. Somehow, it’s better.)

She really is—

(His house feels too hot, and he’s not even paying attention to the movie because you're so close; your leg drapes over his under the blanket, fingers fisting into his sweater at his stomach. 

It feels monumental—something more than the gentle touch to his elbow while squeezing by each other in the entryway earlier. 

He must be staring because you glance up at him, smiling, and the sound from the TV turns into white noise in the background.

“Can I…Fuck,” Bakugou sighs over how pathetically he’s messing this up. “Can I kiss you?”

When your lips press against his, it feels like falling and flying.)

“I knew you’d be trouble,” he tells you one day, glaring at the asshole further down the bar who didn't know how to keep his hands to himself.

“Oh, yeah?” you giggle, leaning into his side.

“Yeah,” the corners of his mouth quirk, though he hides it when he presses a kiss against your temple. “A real pain in my ass.”