Bnha Scenario - Blog Posts

hiii can i get a scenario of class 1a having to do some body guard duty for some rich families wedding, and bakugous crush not being able to go due to family reasons. when they arrived they found out it was actually the readers family, how would bakugou and the rest react thanks hehe

Dance With Me Tonight (Bakugou x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Bakugou is pissed after he’s assigned to be a bodyguard along with the rest of the class for one of the richest families in Japan. He didn’t even want to go since you, his crush, weren’t gonna be there! But wait… surely that’s not you on the dance floor with another guy? 

A/N: Oof, sorry this one took so long! I’m actually feeling good about it, but only time will tell. Anyways, thank you so much for this awesome request and I hope you like it! (Side note: I’m just gonna leave this here in case anyone wants to listen to it while reading👀)

Word count: 2706

        This was ridiculous.

        The rented black and white tuxedo was itchy in unsavory places, the extravagant ballroom smelled highly of old lady perfume, and there were so many rich bastards. 

        Bakugou wasn’t even sure why he came. Though his class had been requested to guard the wedding and its reception, there was really no point. 

        You weren’t there. When Aizawa had broken the news that Class 1A was requested to guard one of the richest families in Japan, you were the only person with a legitimate excuse to schmooze your way out of the job. 

        “I can’t go, family’s got stuff tonight.” 

        Bakugou gritted his teeth at the thought. The room was dimly lit, the only source coming from the chandeliers hanging above as a band played slow songs at the front of the room. Couples wrapped each other up in their arms and rocked leisurely to the deep crooning of the main singer, and it was no surprise that the newlyweds were in the center of it all. 

        Envy swelled up in his throat. Everyone had someone tonight. Even the green midget had the annoying pink girl, both scouting the room while giggling and chatting. 

        Why did I even fucking come?

        “-Bakugou… Bakugou!” Kirishima waved his hand in front of the blond’s face, waiting for some kind of reaction. Finally, the latter shook himself into reality, glancing away from the murmuring crowd. 

        “What?”

        “Are you okay? You’ve been zoned out for like twenty minutes…” 

        Bakugou rolls his eyes and pushes past the redhead, once more in search of that abandoned balcony he had spotted earlier. “I just don’t know why we even had to be here. No villain’s gonna attack a crowd of superpowered rich fucks.” 

        He allows his gaze to wander the room as he strides, searching for something to do to fend off the oncoming boredom. 

        “Oh come on, Bakugou, wouldn’t that be the perfect time to test your skills? Nobody said you had to wait for the rich people to fight the villains.”

        “Yeah yeah,” he grumbles, crimson orbs still scouring the party.

        “Plus, it’s their wedding day. They don’t want to tear their nice dresses and suits. Think smart here, my friend.” 

        “Whatever.” 

        “GUYS GUYS!” A squeaky voice Bakugou can only connect to that of the perverted blond who always trails behind him around school reaches the boys’ ears. Two hands grab one of each’s shoulders as Kaminari slips between the pair, obviously eager to share some gossip. “Guess who I just saw all dolled up right here?” 

        The electric boy doesn’t even have enough time for a grand reveal; Bakugou’s ears have already perked for other dramatic whispers. 

        “Hold on, guys, is that YN?” 

        “No way, she said she was gonna be busy toni- holy shit it is!”

        At this point, the tense blond isn’t even trying to hide his eavesdropping. Shrugging the hand off his shoulder, Bakugou sticks close to the wall as he stomps over to the chattering pair, who just so happen to be Mina and Toru. Both stick out like sore thumbs in glittering, hot pink dresses among collections of no-doubt expensive pastel chiffon. 

        “Where?” he barks, leaving the girls to squeal at the sudden intrusion. Mina is the first to recover, and as she turns to him a smug glint flashes through her eyes. With a nod of her head, she gestures to the crowd. 

        “Down there in the red dress.” His gaze travels in said direction. “She’s dancing with a boy.” 

        The word leaves Bakugou’s mind in scrambles. You were here, but you were also with another guy. His chest tightens at the fact and when he finally catches sight of you, a breath is caught in his throat. 

        Maroon silk hugs tightly to your every curve, outlining your admirable figure. A sweetheart neckline adorns your chest, lined with black gems that glitter every time they catch the light above. There’s a mischievous slit trailing up your leg that stops just above mid-thigh, revealing smooth skin that seems to go on forever thanks to the black stilettos on your feet. Every edge and line is stitched the same color among the tight dress, showing more and more contrasting patterns of black and red as you sway in the boy’s arms. 

        Bakugou’s sneer transforms into an all out snarl at the minimal proximity between the two of you, completely ignorant of the uncomfortable smile on your face. Your garnet-colored lips pull back forcibly, letting out a nervous lap with every word the other man whispers to you. Face framed perfectly by your curled locks, the blond can’t ignore just how hot you look right now. 

        He also can’t ignore how much he needs that guy to stop touching you. Before he can even register it, his dark shoes are slapping against the marble floor, making quick work of the distance between himself and you two. 

        In seconds, he’s silently fuming next to you both, awkwardly staring the boy down who’s shivering in his my-maid-ironed-these slacks. 

        “Move it, extra,” Bakugou hisses, vermillion eyes burning into his enemy’s skull. That’s all it really takes, as the boy rips away from you and disappears into the crowd of swaying couples around, the only evidence of his existence being the slow-to-fade tension in your shoulders. 

        “Katsuki!” you reluctantly purse your lips, disapproving but also secretly thankful. No words can fall from your lips after that, all of them stolen away at the sudden feeling of his bruising grip on your hips. Instinctively, your hands reach up to wrap around his neck, assuming the appropriate dance position considering your location in the room. 

        “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be here?” He really hadn’t wanted to come, at least not after he heard you weren’t going to make an appearance. Some part of him feels betrayed that he had almost missed seeing you like this. 

        The room feels like it’s closing in on you. Of course you had your reasons for not wanting to admit that you were born into this crowd, but being surrounded by them is getting to you. “Can we talk about this somewhere else?” 

        Bakugou bites back the refusal on his tongue when he sees your anxious gaze, observing as it constantly flits back and forth between himself and those around you. “Okay,” he nods, squinting in the darkened room to search for… there! The balcony from earlier. He had seen it when he first entered the empty room along with the rest of Class 1A, waiting for instructions from the wedding’s director while hooking each other up with walkie talkies and earpieces. 

        “Either that’s where the villains are gonna come in or that’s where I’m gonna jump from halfway through this party.”

        “Come on.” His rough hand wraps around your wrist, dragging you along as he shoulders past offended couples who scoff at his impropriety. 

        The outside is so much more peaceful than its opposite, with the only sounds being crickets chirping in the dark forest below and melodic tunes still echoing through the ballroom’s door cracks. 

        Moon shines on the balcony like a spotlight, choosing both of you as it’s favored guests. It’s warm outside, even with the occasional gusts of wind that stick your hair to your lips, and part of you is in awe that Bakugou even found this place as beautiful as most would. Maybe you underestimated him. 

        “So why did you lie about tonight?” The blond’s voice drags you away from the balcony’s banister, urging you to turn around and lean back against it. Your gaze locks on the ground as you rub your arms shyly. 

        “It wasn’t really a lie, per se.” Bakugou snorts. 

        “Sure, and I’m not the best student in the school.” 

        “You really aren’t…”

        “WHAT WAS THAT?!” His riled shout makes you snicker, hiding a smile behind your hand. Bakugou can’t help but admire you, even when you piss him off. Though, he can’t ignore the goosebumps covering your bare arms either. The fact that the straps of your dress were about halfway down your upper arms wasn’t really helping your situation. Grinding his teeth at the stupidity of your outfit, he shrugs of his jacket and approaches you, keeping his gaze focused on the task at hand as he encompasses your shoulders with the thicker fabric. 

        “Oh, uh thanks.”

        “Yeah.”

        Awkward silence ensues, leaving the faint music of the inside to taint the normally innocent atmosphere. Bakugou doesn’t want to crack on the pressure, but part of him still wants to feel you.

        “So, erm,” he rubs the back of his neck, “do you want to dance?”

        The question makes you glance up in surprise. Was this really Bakugou? Giving you his jacket, getting all possessive and now, now asking to dance? No way. Maybe he hit his head or something. Or maybe… 

        Maybe he liked you back.

        “Sure.”

        You both shuffle towards each other, barely keeping yourselves from flushing to the fullest when you finally are close enough to touch each other again. Then the blond finally makes the first move again, quivering hands sneaking around your waist painfully slow. 

        You’re no hypocrite, being just as hesitant as he was in the act of sneaking your hands up and around his neck once more. There was something about asking to initiate the dance that made this so much more awkward than earlier, back inside when Bakugou just forced you both into it. 

        Now, it was so incredibly tedious, forcing yourselves to relax and sway to the music slowly fading out from the inside. Then at one point you threw caution to the wind and dropped your head, laying your cheek on his shoulder as you faced the wilderness beyond. 

        “So…” Bakugou finally speaks up again. His grip tightens on your hips in frustration. Obviously he heard the shakiness of his voice just as well as you had. He calms down with a clear of his throat, allowing his gaze to also fade off into the black surrounding the host building of your family’s wedding. “Why didn't you tell us?” 

        Your form tenses against his own, leaving him in a dreaded panic that you would somehow just disappear before his eyes. Then you answer.

        “I didn’t want you to see me in a bad light…”

        Bakugou shakes his head, still rocking you both back and forth in a steady pattern to the music. “YN, you shouldn’t worry about what those extras think-”

        “Not them,” you interrupt. “You.”

        “...Oh.” He’s silent for a minute, and distantly you wonder if he can feel the racing thumps that are echoing against your rib cage right now. At last he pipes up with another question. “Why?” 

        “I just,” you peel your head away to look him in the eyes, just barely avoiding biting your rouged lips, “I didn’t want you to think I was this spoiled brat who paid her way into UA. I wanted… I don’t know… I guess I wanted you to respect me.” 

        The intensity is enough to make you glance away as Bakugou stares at you in wonder. 

        “YN, I respect you in a hell of a lot of ways.” 

        From any other, the words would have left you scoffing. From Bakugou, though, they leave you redder than a cherry as you resist ducking your face into his button-up dress shirt. 

        “...Oh.” That seemed to be the response of the day. 

        The balcony returns to silence, dulled music still flowing from the party behind the doors. Bakugou’s hands, strong and firm, are still attached to your waist, encouraging the constant swaying while you keep your hands locked behind his neck. The urge to dip your fingers into his fluffy locks is taking a surprising amount of self-restraint at this moment. 

        The air of the moment is serene, strangely tranquil considering one of its residents. You feel content and relaxed for the first time in a long time, all thanks to right now. There’s no eagerness to hide yourself, nor pressure to spill any more secrets. And that’s precisely why you feel at peace with the idea of spilling your feelings now, rather than letting them out during a moment of peer pressure from others. 

        Right now, it’s just him and you, locked in an embrace and swaying underneath the moon and the stars to a faint melody of love and happiness. And it’s perfect. 

        “Katsuki…” Here we go.

        “Yeah?” His voice is soothing, strangely so compared to its usual gruffness. 

        “I like you. Like like-like you. A lot.”  

        Well fuck. That was so much more awkward than you expected it to be. In just two seconds, your mind had gone from “let’s do this” to “can I somehow burrow in his shirt pocket and die” thanks to that confession. 

        For some odd reason, Bakugou seems to agree with your train of thoughts. One of his hands leaves your waist to slip into the hair on the back of your head. Bunching up a collection of curls in his fist, he shoves your face right into his shoulder, dismissing the surprised squeal you give. 

        “What a lame way to say that.” Ouch.

        The response makes you struggle against him, growing ashamed and embarrassed as you push against his toned stomach to escape, but it’s ineffective. His grip has turned to iron, solid and unforgiving as you become more and more frantic. A plea to let you go dies on your lips when he finally opens his mouth. 

        “Stop squirming and let me talk.” 

        You do, allowing him to take a deep breath before speaking again. 

        “I…” he turns his head and gulps. You can’t see thanks to your face being squished against his chest, but you can tell by the quick pounding near your forehead that he’s just as nervous as you. “I like you too, dumbass.”

        Jaw dropping, your mouth goes dry at the confession. Then your hands fall like dead weight to your sides. 

        “Oh.” 

        “That’s it, that’s all I get?!”

        “Sorry, sorry, I just umm… I wasn’t expecting that.” You trail your hands back up over his shoulders once more, finally slipping them into the disarrayed strands. “But I’m glad.” 

        At your reply, he leans back to glance at your face. A wave of relief seems to flask through his eyes when he confirms that, yes, you do mean it.

        “Me too,” he admits, sneaking his arms back around your waist and settling his wandering hands on the small of your back. 

        The tension in the air has drawn back to a zero, and you’re still smiling giddily at the confession. He liked you back, no matter where you came from. 

        He begins to rock you back and forth once more, leading you to the slow song of the band inside as his fingers knead into your skin, flexing and unflexing with every knot your own untangle in his scalp. 

        Owls hoot in the trees beyond the balcony as the stars glitter down on both of you, washing you in dim rays. 

        It’s warm out. It’s nice out. And all you can do is hum along when Bakugou drops his head on your shoulder, huffing a relieved sigh. 

        “God I’m glad I came tonight.”

Kidnappers and Keepers (Todoroki x Reader/Soulmate AU)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You get kidnapped by a douchebag named “Clarence.” Nothing tops that. Well, except for your dreamboat of a soulmate. Now, he’s a keeper right there.

A/N: It’s five a.m. What is sleep. Please love this because this puppy took me ages of procrastination, but I really liked my one idea at the end of the story. I kinda wrote this backwards and on two separate days, so that could explain why it seems a little different in some parts. Please enjoy!

Word count: 3309

        Does anyone remember when Nutella was all the rage? Man, those were the good old days. It was a peaceful time. Every story on Wattpad was about a romantic kidnapping, usually involving a werewolf or two. One Direction spoke to every thirteen-year-old on a spiritual level, and all earbuds were connected to cords attached to phones. 

        It was also around the time the villain in front of you began his story. Oh wait, no, that was only twenty minutes ago. Damn, it’s crazy how time can fly some days but then crawl by slower than a slug the next. Anyways, what was this guy talking about? Oh yeah, he was monologuing his evil plan while you were stuck on the grimy floor of a dark warehouse. He had snatched you off the street as a hostage and handcuffed you behind your back to a leaking pipe, forcing you to sit and listen to him blab. What a drag. 

        “And then we will rule the world!” The villain --what was his name again?-- looked at you expectantly.

        “Huh?” He groaned in exasperation. 

        “Did you even hear a single word I said?!” 

        “No. Did you know your fly was open?” The villain, a dirt-covered twenty-something-year-old in shady, black apparel, glared at you from under the flickering light in the large room. You, on the other hand, stared at the ceiling distractedly while flicking your teeth with your tongue. Note to self: next time you get kidnapped, don’t eat popcorn that day. Stupid kernels.

        “Can’t you take anything seriously?” He jabbed, although his hands discreetly checked his pants, only to burn red when he remembered there was no zipper. You snicker under your breath. Got ‘em. “Ugh, you know what?!” He suddenly exploded, approaching you with a roll of duct tape. “I’m tired of you.” The piece he ripped off was too small to stick well to your face, but you didn’t have the energy to tell him. You poked out your tongue between your lips before his sweaty hands patted down the adhesive, sliding it up and over your top lip to remove the sticky binding from your face. He stepped away and turned his back to you, whipping out his phone.

        “Now that that’s done, where the hell are they?” the guy muttered, tapping away. You shifted uncomfortably on the cement floor, your butt growing numb. At this point, the piece of tape now dangled awkwardly from your chin. I’ve always wondered what a goatee was like. 

        “Where’s who?” you wondered. The villain whipped around to stare at you in shock.

        “How the- how did you- why are you-... what?” You raised a brow at his stammers.

        “Shoot for a bigger piece next time, fella. Or try something stronger.” You yawn before cracking your neck. “Have you considered super glue?” The door to your right suddenly crashed open. Well just barge right in, why don’t you. 

        “Clarence, did you get the girl?” Oh, now that’s just mean. Who names their child “Clarence”? You would turn to crime too if you had that name. 

        “Yes, sir.” The new guys who just joined the party were villains you had never seen before. One wasn’t even human, per se, just a dark blob surrounded by a silhouette of purple. The other was covered completely in a black cloak so you couldn’t view anything of their figure or face. Not even when they approached you with an outstretched hand. 

        “Do not be afraid, this won’t hurt a bit.” Pshh, like you were going to trust that load. Your body trembled and your feet scrambled against the floor pushing yourself back and away. Sadly, you were stopped by the pipe behind you. So this is how I die. I’ll never get to meet my soulmate. Or unlodge that stupid-ass kernel in my back tooth. “I’m not going to kill you.” Lyin’ ass. “We just need you as bait.” He had the deep voice of evil. 

        “No thanks,” you hiss. 

        “I wasn’t asking.” Could you, though? It’d be more polite. You didn’t have time to flinch away before his hand grasped your face. Like full-on palmed that bitch like a dad inspecting a melon at Walmart. What. 

        “Umm, whatcha doin’ there, budd-” before you could finish, a bright pain flashed behind your eyes. You whimpered as white noise rang in your ears, and your body began to convulse violently. Mind-control. That’s what it was. And from what you could tell, this guy had better control over your thoughts than you ever did. It felt like someone had dug their fingernails into your brain, and you abruptly spoke without your own volition. 

        “She’s under my control.” The voice scraped at your throat, but it still sounded like you. Your body stopped its spasms and froze. You were now in the passenger seat of your own body, hijacked like a computer. People and their quirks these days. Whatever happened to the classic super strength? The man released your face and stood up, stepping back to join his wispy companion while he gestured towards you. Following the action, Clarence --seriously, this poor guy-- uncuffed you from the pipe and you forcefully stood on two numb, shaky legs. 

        “We’ll use her to distract the heroes before we attack.” The cloaked man spoke, features still shadowed by his hood. 

        “How do they know to come here?” your pitiful kidnapper asked. He seemed new to this kind of job; his voice had been shaky and unsure while he nervously wrung his hands. 

        “We sent the video of you snatching her to their agency.” Poor guy became the scapegoat. But wait, the agency? Oh crap. 

        Here’s a little history lesson: before you were attacked today, you would occasionally help out at Endeavor’s Hero Agency. One day, about six or seven months ago, you had found a worker of theirs severely injured from a villain. After healing them with your quirk, you had been offered a job at the office. However, you had to deny it because, well, you were only in high school. On the other hand, ever since that day the worker stayed in touch with you, every once in a while calling you for help if anyone was ever injured on a mission. Healing them made you feel like a hero, so you didn’t stop. But now today, you were seriously regretting getting involved with them. This sucked bad. 

        “They’ll come,” the dark cloud man assured, “they value the girl.” Aww, if you were in control of your body so you could blush and smack his arm bashfully. However, right now you were pissed, and the only smacking you wanted to do was that cloak guy’s head against that moldy pipe over there. This sucks major- A noise interrupts your mental rant. It was a clang outside, like someone had kicked a trash can. Nonetheless, the villains in the room all rushed to the shadiest part of the warehouse, taking cover behind large boxes. 

                                ###

        Shouto’s words had always been… less than reassuring. 

        Sorry about earlier, I was being mind-controlled by that cloaky fella over there. My name’s YN. 

        They were even more unsettling when an agent of his father’s called him and asked if he had ever seen a “YN.” 

        “No…” 

        “Oh, well if you do, please let us know. She was kidnapped a couple hours ago, and we could really use your help right now.” Now that he thought about it, Shouto did distantly remember the name floating around the agency once or twice when he had temped there. 

        “Okay, I will.” He hung up the phone and continued down the street, hands coldly shoved in his pockets while he made his way home. The task was easy until he heard yells coming from within the abandoned warehouse next to him. What the hell?

        “Todoroki!” A familiar voice shouted from behind him. The bicolored man slowly turned to see two of his classmates approaching, one waving erratically at him.

        “What are you doing out here?” Midoriya asked. 

        “I just felt like walking around. What about you?” More shouts came from inside the building next to them just as the green-haired boy was about to respond. 

        “What was that?” Iida stares curiously into the alleyway, eyes catching on a shady-looking door that led into the warehouse. “We must check it out,” the class rep declares before approaching the entrance. The other two follow him with furrowed brows, both concerned and unsure at the same time. A loud noise rattles from within the alleyway. 

        “Sorry.” Midoriya shyly steps away from a metal trash can and inches it away with his foot. The can’s cover falls off with the movement and crashes onto the ground. Midoriya’s face is not unlike a traffic signal at this point, glowing bright red. 

        Iida shakes his head before pushing open the doorway, entering the dim, moldy stash house.

                                ###

        What was that one sentence that has like all the letters in the English alphabet in it? It was about a fox and a dog… whatever. You were bored. And technically mindless. Sort of. You couldn’t do or say anything when three boys your age entered the nasty ass room you were in, and your heart couldn’t even skip a beat when your eyes landed on that one dreamboat. Do you think he purposely dyes his hair like that? I dig it.

        “...you YN?” Oh crap, you missed like half of that, sorry dreamboat. 

        “Yeah, but you guys are too late. The villains left that way, through the window over there.” The two-toned hair man glanced down at his wrist with confused eyes in your peripheral vision, but the villain controlling your body made no note. Then he gestured to his friends to follow him to the boxes. Dumbass dreamboat. 

        It was like watching a horror movie. The audience already knew where the murderers were, but the attractive protagonists- they’re always attractive. No ugly person ever gets hunted down, and that’s a fact- just can’t hear your annoyed screaming at the TV. 

        They’re hiding behind the- dammit. The whole room just got ten times more rowdy, and suddenly you were in control of your own body again. Must be how Cloak Man’s quirk works. Can’t fight and mind-control at the same time. At least God is fair. 

        Grunts, exclamations and whooshes all sound behind you while you huddle in a corner, shaking and hugging yourself until the fighting ends. 

        “Here, call my father and tell him to come!” It’s the pretty boy, and your eyes widen at his words before a phone slides on the ground over to you. He returns to the battle in hand-to-hand combat with Clarence, who doesn’t put up much of a fight after your soulmate-- holy shit-- turns one arm into a popsicle and the other into a flaming torch. Hot damn. Hehe, I’m funny- not the time YN! You shake yourself out of it and scramble to the phone, glancing back up to watch the fight while pressing the call button on the open contact. A wave of heat fills the room as your soulmate uses his quirk to roast that one cloaked bastard, and you curl even further into the dusty half of the warehouse you’re hiding in.

        “Pick up, pick up, pick up- hello?” The person you called is breathing heavily over the line. 

        “This isn’t Shouto, who is this?” It sounds vaguely familiar, but you don’t take the time to mull over the fact.

        “This is YN YLN and I’m in a warehouse off the main street in town. We could really use some cops or something over here!” 

        “YN? Shouto found you?” Aww, your soulmate told his father about you, how cute!

        “Yes, please hurry!” A sudden flame flashes directly in front of you, almost singeing your eyebrows away. The phone flies out of your hand- no idea how that happened- while you scream in terror, and your soulmate shouts back a “Sorry!”

        “Sorry my ass,” you grumble before army-crawling back over to his yeeted technology. The screen is cracked and dark. Now it was your turn for a half-assed apology, but “Shouto” seemed rather occupied at the moment. Speaking of him, you look back down at your soulmark and run your trembling fingers over the words. When you first got them, you thought you were destined to be with a dada’s boy. You predicted you would meet him in the park and he would throw a phone at you, too nervous to be alone without his father while he squealed out those words. 

        So, even though your current situation was less than desirable, you were kinda thankful. At least he needed you to call his dad for a badass reason, and not an excited, “gotta show my dad this” reason. 

        The door next to you slammed open and you screamed in fright once more, only to pause at the sight. Endeavor? Ohhh. The hot quirk your soulmate had suddenly made a million times more sense. The pro-hero wasn’t alone, and he stormed in with numerous other agents to take out your kidnappers. 

        The dark blob man disappeared into thin air when they entered the room, leaving his two villain friends to get restrained and captured by the new heroes. My guy fucking dipped. Candy-ass. 

        Hesitantly, you stood and approached your soulmate. He was watching Clarence and Cloak Man get tied up when you tapped his shoulder, gaining his attention instantly. You began to rub your own fingers together when he made eye-contact with you, and fended off the urge to touch the mark on his face. Just as you open your mouth to speak, your mind goes blank. Wow, so not helpful. Your soulmate raises his eyebrows at you, waiting patiently while you awkwardly bite your lip and clear your throat. After that, the words crawl their way right out of you.

        “Sorry about earlier, I was being mind-controlled by that cloaky fella over there. My name’s YN.” 

        Shouto is silent for a second while one hand swiftly covers the wrist of the other. Maybe it had burned for you earlier, but you had been too distracted to- Oh hello there. Yep, that’s a’ tingling all right. You copy his action and hiss at the feeling. It wasn’t unpleasant, but a sudden hotness on your wrist tends to freak you out once in a while. 

        “My name is Shouto Todoroki. It’s nice to meet you.” Oh god, he was adorable. Like an adorable, little well-behaved puppy. You were totally going to ruin that pleasantness for him one day. He’s just gonna walk in on you cussing out your own foot and it’ll go shjoop right out of him.

        “You too,” you mumble distractedly. “Or me too! Or… umm, yes, it’s nice to meet you too.” Ok, YN, what the hell was that? “Anyways…” This is a deesaster. “I have a quirk.” Yep, it’s over.

        “Okay....” He looks thoroughly confused. He might want to get used to that feeling around you. “Me too, I guess?” You want to smack yourself upside the head.

        “I’m sorry. I said that weird. Actually, I didn’t even say it.” He looks so lost. “I have a healing quirk, and you just got into a fight.” There we go, now you got him. He nods his head understandingly. 

        “Oh okay, so you’re offering to heal me.” Great job, Watson.

        “Yeah.” Your cheeks are so red at this point that they hurt. He holds out his scraped hands towards you and gives you a gentle smile. 

        “Work your magic.”

                                ###

        “We could use someone like you at UA.”

        After you had healed his wounds the first day you met, Shouto encouraged you to talk to the admissions office there. He had even asked his dad to recommend they give you a spot, and it worked. You didn’t know how, but you just counted your blessings and moved on.

        Now, you sat as a student assistant to Recovery Girl, with your very own dorm and everything. You attended the normal classes UA offered and worked during lunch and after school with the nurse to heal the injured and sick. It was usually the injured, and it was usually Shouto’s friend Midoriya. At a certain point, you didn’t care to ask what he had done, you just healed him and sent him on his way.

        “There you go, greeny.” You patted his freshly healed arm. “Now if you would stop hurting yourself, I really wouldn’t mind.” Your eyes strayed from his worn-out form to the new one, leaning in the doorway with crossed arms. Dreamboat.

        “I know, YN, I want that too. Thanks again, though!” The hero-in-training cheered right up at the prospect of getting to leave and bid you adieu, greeting Todoroki before disappearing into the hall. 

        “Hi.” Your soulmate stepped into the room with a soft smile, laying a kiss on your cheek before sitting in the patient’s bed across from your spinny chair. 

        “Well, hello to you too.” You beam at him with curious eyes. “You seem more chipper than usual, what’s up?” 

        “I just... really wanted to see you,” he admits apprehensively, staring at the posters on Recovery Girl’s walls to avoid looking at you. Your chest preens with happiness and you stand up to join him on the bed.

        “I wanted to see you too.” You slump down next to him and lay your head on his shoulder, intertwining your fingers with his own on your lap. The room stays silent while you both bask in the warmth of each other’s presence, but Todoroki surprisingly decides to break the silence.

        “So,” he pulls his head off yours and turns to face you, “have you come up with a hero name yet?” Your body begins to wiggle excitedly and you whirl around to face him, now sitting crossed-legged on the bed and bouncing your knees up and down anxiously.

        “Yes I did!” His eyes sparkle at your excitement and he laughs softly. 

        “Well?”

        “Say hello to… wait for it,” he rolls his eyes at your actions while you drumroll against your own thighs, “Health Girl!” 

        Todoroki grows apprehensive and his smile falls slightly. Your own face grows smug and you poke him in the side playfully. “I’m just kidding, I’m not that lame.”

        “You sure?” Your eyes widen. He has a sarcasm button now?

        “Woah, mister, you’re learning too much from me. You might wanna stop that before you start yelling at your phone for dropping itself.” (Yeah, that’s happened before. But to be fair, your phone was a dumbass bitch.) 

        Your heart glows with pride when he releases a small, rare chuckle. The Shuckle. Damn, you must be really special to get that treatment. Well you better be, with all that ‘soulmates for life’ crap dangling over your head.

        “No really, I actually did come up with a good name.” 

        “All right, tell me.” 

        Here’s the thing, your quirk wasn’t exactly healing people, it was more of speeding up their own body’s cellular processes when you got close enough. So you had the perfect name. At least, you hoped you did. Oh crap, what if it was terrible?

        “What about... ‘Enzyma’?” you suggest nervously, staring down into your lap and rubbing your fingers against each other. Arms wrap themselves around your hips and tug you closer to their owner as a pair of lips press against your forehead. Todoroki stares lovingly into your eyes after your own arms reach up to wrap around his neck, melting into his embrace. 

        “It’s perfect.” 

        So was he.

Nail Polish and Peer Pressure (Bakugou x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You just wanted to paint your nails in his room, but Bakugou always had to throw a hissy fit. No matter; revenge can take many forms. 

A/N: Google searched “asshole synonyms” for this. I ain’t sorry. Not my best work, but I really wanted to write something, so please enjoy!

Word count: 1220

        “Hey, YN, thanks for the badass nail polish. It’s super manly!”

       “Of course Kirishima!”

       That ticked him off. Even his best friend had gotten his nails painted by you. The whole class was now writing, tapping, and gesturing with their painted nails however they could, and it was all thanks to your seemingly endless supply of that toxic shit. Bakugou was sick of it. 

       It all began a couple days ago, when the blond and you were hanging out in his own room.

                               ###

       “What the hell is that smell?” Your boyfriend sniffed the air with distaste, looking over from the computer he had been playing on. There you were, sitting on his bed with a bottle of polish precariously balanced on one thigh. The other leg was a makeshift surface on which you painted your nails maroon. 

       “Seriously?”

       “Seriously what?” you asked obliviously.

       “Get that nasty shit off my bed before you spill it!” he demanded, spinning around in his chair to face you. He glared at the bottle you innocently gestured at him.

       “What, this? You’re really that scared I’m gonna ruin your precious sheets with a little nail polish? C’mon Katsuki, I’m not that clumsy.” He scoffs at your obvious lie and raises a brow at you. You purse your lips and roll your eyes, giving in. “All right fine, you’re right! But I’ll be careful, I swear.” Following your plea, you throw out your best weapon imaginable: puppy dog eyes. 

       It was ineffective.

       “No, now close that shit before the stench becomes permanent.” He turns back to his computer without another word and returns to his game. 

       “Fine,” you stand up and walk over to his door, awkwardly trying to open with your elbows since your fingers weren’t exactly dry yet. “Then I’ll go do this elsewhere.”

       “Fine.”

                               ###

       Since then, you’ve been painting everyone in the class’s nails, even the guys. Just three days ago he had walked in on you adorning Deku’s hands with emerald green in the common area. Jealousy was his initial reaction, as all he could see was the small twerp’s hands near your lap as you giggled. Then it got worse to see his fingers resting on your thighs while you chatted and laughed together. 

       “YN!” Bakugou had shouted at you. You glanced up with wide eyes from your task, then recognized the look in your boyfriend’s eyes.

       “Oh calm down, Katsuki. It’s not like you were gonna let me paint your nails.” Bakugou almost exploded at your tone. “Besides, Izuku was just wondering what all the fuss was about. There’s nothing wrong with wanting pretty nails.” Those words combined with the fact that you had called that loser by his name pushed the blond over the edge. He was slowly being driven insane.

                               ###

       “Hey YN, some girls at the mall yesterday totally complimented my nails. Thanks again!” the bubbly gravity girl spouted. Bakugou’s arm tightened around your shoulder at the praise, and he snarled at the sight of disembodied hot pink nails floating into the classroom. 

       “I absolutely adore the sparkles you gave me, YN. You’re a goddess!” Aoyama praised next, twirling around and waving his hands in front of yours and Bakugou’s faces before dramatically falling into his seat. This was ridiculous. 

       Everyone, and he meant everyone in the classroom except for him had painted nails of all colors. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me,” the miserable future hero muttered as he watched Todoroki pass with red and white nails. “I’m gonna hurl.”

       He missed the smug smirk that grew on your face, and you swiftly kiss him on the cheek before separating and returning to your own desk just as the bell rang. 

       It was only a matter of time.

                               ###

       Deku stood over the bruised and beaten blond, shoving his painted hands in front of his face while laughing victoriously. “Well, well, well, looks like I finally beat you, Kacchan,” the green-haired boy boasted. Bakugou only groaned in pain on the hard asphalt of the street, unable to move as the bruises began to darken. 

       “I guess you could say it was all thanks to these,” he continued, flashing his emerald nails near Bakugou’s two black eyes. “Tell YN I’m grateful-”

       Bakugou sprang up from his bed in a cold sweat, gasping and feeling his body for any bruises, only to come up clean. “It was all a nightmare,” he groaned, ducking his head miserably into his hands. “This is fucking stupid.” And yet, why did he want to go to your room now? The pupil-burning red digits of his alarm clock told him it was too late; it was midnight. But he didn’t care. If Bakugou had one more stupid nightmare over fucking nail polish, he was going to lose it. 

                               ###

       “YN!” Who the hell? “YN, open up! Open the goddamn door, YN!” Your boyfriend. Of course. Checking your phone, you moaned at the time while slumping off your bed and onto the floor, worming your way to the entrance an enraged blond currently stood behind. 

       “Did you bring me food?” 

       “What? No-”

       “A stuffed animal?”

       “No! I-”

       “Then why in the goddamn fuck are you here at-” you whip open your door and glare into his crimson eyes, “the asscrack of dawn?” Your menacing whisper was challenged with a raised brow.

       “It’s only twelve.”

       “It’s only bedtime,” you mocked with a sneer. “What do you need?”

       “You need to paint my nails.” Oh, oh this was good. Who needed prank TV shows when you could have all this? You disguised your victorious expression by dropping your head and groaning dramatically. Sweet, sweet revenge was near, and you could almost taste that salty bitch. 

       “Fineeee. But wash your hands first.” He tried to object, but you cut him off with a wave of your hand. “I’m not painting over your crusty-ass sleep nails.” 

       “The fuck are ‘sleep nails’?” your blondy grumbled under his breath, but nonetheless made his way over to your bathroom. Trembling excitedly after watching him walk away, you swiftly texted the class group chat you had made a week ago with great news. 

You: U guys can remove ur nail polish now. Bakugou finally gave in ;)

Kaminari: Thank GODDD, I’m done with this yellow crap on my fingers

Kirishima: Me too, but at least we’ll finally get to see Bakugou with girly nails

Mina: Man, I’m gonna miss my pink sparkles!!

You: It’ll be worth it, trust me

       You set your phone down just as Bakugou turned off the lights in your bathroom, but the buzzing of notifications continued. 

       “What asshole is texting you at midnight?”

       “Probably the same kind of knucklehead that would yell at me through my door at midnight.”

       He scoffs before flopping down onto your bed beside you. “Whatever, let’s just get this over with.”

       “Wonderful.” Your eyes twinkle wickedly as you open your nightstand drawer, displaying a wide array of nail polishes even a rainbow would be jealous of. “So what color were you thinking?”

Just Playing Twister (Todoroki x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You guys were just playing a game of Twister. Midoriya knew that. They’re always just playing a game of Twister… right?

A/N: Just looked up the dorm room layout and my whole story got shot to hell, but I don’t care. We’ll just say they changed rooms or something. Hope you like it!

Word count: 608

       “I don’t bend that way!” 

       It was nine o’clock at night and all the little green broccoli wanted to do was study peacefully. Sadly, that plan was thrown out the window when you and your boyfriend Todoroki began to make a racket no different from two rhinos hopping on a Pogo stick next door. Midoriya had seen enough movies and TV shows to know it was just a game of Twister, but you two had been going at it for a while now, and you had grown a tad too loud for his liking. Your voices even sounded exhausted, so he was wondering why neither of you had thrown in the towel at this point. Alas, the game continued, and Midoriya now sat at his desk, rubbing his temples tiredly and listening to ear-raping music through his headphones. 

       It was never enough. 

       “My legs are shaking!” Then just forfeit!

       “Don’t lose it now, baby, keep going.” Come on, Todoroki, whose side are you on?

       Midoriya, groaning in frustration, rips away from his desk and the deafening music and collapses on his bed. Using the pillow behind his head, he covers his ears and prays it was the magical cure he’s been searching for. 

       “Ow, fuck Shouto, move your hand.” Dammit.

       “I’m already there. Just one more round, YN.” You’ve won enough times, dude, just STOP. 

       But you never did. The game just kept going and going. Midoriya finally stood up, walked over to the wall, and just, you know, tap tap. The family-fun game is put on pause for a second and silence ensues. The All-Might disciple victoriously fist pumps the air before hopping back to his desk. No one had ever been so happy to return to homework before, until…

       “That spot is mine. Only mine.” Well shit, Todoroki, there’s about six other circles the exact same color so why don’t you calm it? Midoriya cringed over how serious his dichromatic friend sounded. The dorm next door was treating Twister like all life on Earth depended on the game to survive. It wasn’t that thrilling, right?

       “The floor is too hard for this.” I heard that happens after playing for AN HOUR. Have you considered, gee I don’t know, stopping?!

       “We might need a new mat.” What the hell, how do you do that?

       All right, enough was enough. This wholesome, age-appropriate game needed to end right now. Midoriya stood from his desk and exited his room with a determined face. He appreciates your guys’ good-natured competitiveness, but not when it lasts for two hours. Who has that kind of stamina?

       Midoriya knocked on your door angrily before barging in.

       “Okay, you two need to stop playing right n- OH MY GOD!”

                               ###

       Midoriya squeaked when he saw you enter the classroom with your hot and cold boyfriend attached to your hip. He ducked his head like nobody’s business and proceeded to observe his desk like the eighth wonder of the world. The poor hero-in-training couldn’t bear to look the two of you in the eyes. Ever. Again. The blooming mark on his nose from where you had thrown a pillow at him also stood as a stern reminder to never speak of what he had seen either. 

        It wasn’t a game of Twister.

Ignorance is Bliss (Bakugou x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Confessing to you has turned into quite the hassle for Bakugou, as you seem to be totally oblivious to every single one of his ideas. From notes to jewelry, you don’t notice a single thing he tries to anonymously give you. Surely you weren’t that ignorant, were you?

A/N: I desire sleep. I just wanna sleep…. Anyways, here’s another Bakugou oneshot, because it’s just so easy to get ideas for him. This time, poor explody boy’s just confused. Again, thank you guys so much for the likes and follows, and please enjoy!

Word count: 3349

        To Bakugou you were… tolerable. However, in his case, those were pretty high marks. And it was because you were so tolerable that he found himself okay with the idea of hanging out with you more. He was fine with seeing you around after school, or maybe at the movies. Maybe even in his dorm room- okay, he was crushing on you. Hard. Hard enough that he found himself wanting to ask you out. 

        At first, Bakugou tried to ask for the annoying redhead’s help, but that didn’t work out so well. 

        “What about getting her candy and a teddy bear, and then telling her how you feel? Girls like that stuff,” Kirishima had innocently suggested.

        “What is she, five? Fuck no.” He shut down his sturdy friend instantly. After that, the blond had told his companion that he would figure it out on his own. If on his own meant he used Google. To be fair, it was the only other resource Bakugou could depend on at this point. So he searched up what girls like, and found a whole bunch of mumbo jumbo he didn’t really have the money for, but they were worth trying out anyway. The first thing on the list? Flowers. All right, he could afford that. 

        The next day, the blond hero-in-training barged into class much earlier than he ever had, even earlier than the loud-mouthed class captain, and plopped down a hefty bouquet of roses along with a small note attached saying who it was from in the middle of your desk. And then he waited. 

        When you finally showed up, Bakugou was practically snoring in his chair, reclined back with a small dribble of drool crawling down his chin. You didn’t greet him, but you never did, so that wasn’t unexpected. What was, however, was your reaction to his gift.

        “Who the fuck left their garden on my seat?” you exclaimed with disdain. The volume was loud enough to jumpstart the blond from his slumber. He furrowed his brows at your question, now wide awake. Here’s the thing, Bakugou knew you were a cusser. It was one of the few things he liked about you. But the fact that you had cussed at his gift... well, that kind of ticked him off. 

        “What’s wrong with them?” he demanded, but before you could respond, a loud sneeze echoed around the room. 

        Sniffing harshly, you untucked your face from your elbow and inspected the damage before replying, “I’m allergic to their pollen, dumbass.” Pinching the bouquet’s stems between your thumb and forefinger, you held it as far away from your face as you could while you carried it over to the trash. Bakugou’s voice stuck in his throat before he could try to stop you, so he could only watch in horror as you hovered the gift over the plastic bin. Watching his personal note work free from between two stems, the blond clenched his jaw and seethed silently when it gracefully floated to the bottom of the empty bin. 

        “Aww, YN, are you really throwing those roses away? They’re so pretty!” Uraraka spoke up, just then stepping into the classroom. She pouted sadly at the sight. 

        “Well, do you want them?” you offered, extending Bakugou’s gift towards her. 

        “Umm sure. I guess I’ll take them if you really don’t want them!” she agreed, accepting the bouquet and taking a whiff before thanking you. As you told her it was no problem, Bakugou curled his hands into fists and sneered. 

        “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

                                ###

        That night, the blond student consulted his old friend Google once more for advice, leering over his glowing laptop and scouring for anything that might help him woo you. “A poem, huh? Ugh, do girls really like that sappy shit?” You best believe he copied one of Shakespeare’s most popular pieces and dropped it off at your door signed with his name the next morning. Plagiarism be damned, he really wanted to go out with you. After watching the love note flutter to the ground face-down, he quickly knocked on your door and rushed away, peeking out from the wall of another hallway while he waited for you to answer. 

        “Okay, who the fu- what the hell?” you wondered aloud, whipping open your door and angrily peering out only to see no one. Glancing around, your eyes finally spotted the white paper on the floor. Lifting it up, you observed the backside of the note with a scrunched nose. Shrugging dismissively, you crumble up the slip of paper with both hands while grumbling under your breath, “Fucking litterers,” before throwing the ball into the trash can outside your door. After you returned inside your room, Bakugou came out from behind the wall and stared at where you had stood, totally and utterly dumbfounded. Were you really that stupid? Surely you were kidding with him, right? You didn’t seriously just throw away his love letter after only looking at the blank side, did you?

        Shaking his head, Bakugou abruptly remembered that yes, you have done dumber things. Just thinking off the top of his head, he could remember many incidents where you completely amazed him with your own idiocy before he ever thought much of your presence. For example, one time you had been so tired that you had run into the wall directly next to Class 1-A’s entrance, then proceeded to yell at it, “Move dumbass!” So yes, yes he could believe you had just thrown away his confession note obliviously. Bakugou shook his head at the memory before rubbing his temples, walking back to his own room to plot yet another tactic of confession.

                                ###

        Google was a godsend, and had provided him with the perfect gift. Jewelry! How had he completely managed to forget how much women love jewelry. Over the weekend, Bakugou had managed to convince Kirishima to buy him a necklace for you, one that was “your style.” In the end, his redheaded classmate arrived at school on Monday with a silver heart encasing a crimson stone on a metal chain. After silently thanking Kirishima with a small nod, Bakugou couldn’t help the small curl of the corners of his mouth while he lifted the locket up to glimmer in the fluorescent light of the classroom. His hard-headed companion, however, seemed a little disappointed in the gift. 

        “Look dude, I really don’t think YN is going to like that. She’s not really that kind of girl,” Kirishima insisted, a little concerned at how his friend would react if yet another confession plan failed. 

        “Trust me, this time I’ll get her. Plus, you know how all women love jewelry, it’s foolproof,” Bakugou assured his friend with a smirk eyes still set on the necklace. Patting Kirishima on the chest, the blond gestured for him to observe as he set down the necklace on your desk and made his way back, both preparing to watch your reaction. The redhead pursed his lips and bit them anxiously while his friend squinted with impatience. Finally, you entered the classroom and Bakugou had to hold back a fist pump. After all, he wasn’t victorious yet. Sitting down in your seat, you didn’t appear to notice the necklace, and the blond flinched harshly when you ignorantly dropped your bag on top of it. An apologetic hand settled onto his shoulder, and Bakugou was too stunned at your utter obliviousness to things right in front of you to shrug off Kirishima. 

                                ###

        He had watched you all day in class, and nothing. You hadn’t acknowledged the necklace at all, and you didn’t even notice when your notebook had accidentally pushed it off the table. The future hero’s eye twitched and his hands began to tingle in irritation. You had to be screwing with him! How ignorant could you be? 

        It wasn’t until after school when he discovered you had, in fact, noticed the necklace, but for all the wrong reasons. Miserably dragging his feet to his room, he had passed the common area, only to hear your heart-stopping voice. Halting in his tracks, he backtracked until he could see you and the pink freak standing in the middle of the room and conversing. Eavesdropping slightly, he leaned his head in to hear better. 

        “Oh YN, that’s so cute,” Ashido gushed, holding her hands to her cheeks as she observed the necklace you held in between the two of you. “Who gave it to yo-”

        “How much do you think it could sell for?” you asked distractedly, scrutinizing the gem in the center of the silver heart before peering back up at your classmate curiously. 

        “Well, i-isn’t it a gift?” she replied, her usually bright voice dropping with a lilt of uncertainty.

        “I don’t know,” you shrugged casually, “I just found it lying around.” Umm, no. Bakugou vividly remembered setting it down quite obviously in the center of your desk. Maybe you needed a nice, new pair of glasses. That could be his next gift. 

        Mina shifted excitedly from foot-to-foot with her hands folded in front of her heart before enthusiastically suggesting, “Well, why don’t you just keep it? It is really pretty!” 

        Pursing your lips, you looked at her with an “are you serious” face before promptly responding, “Because it’s not mine, duh. That would be rude, Mina.” 

        Distractedly peering back down at the necklace, you made your way to the exit of the common area with Ashido bewilderedly shouting after you, “And selling it isn’t?!” 

                                ###

        In a last ditch effort to grab your attention and confess, Bakugou made his way to the mall and searched for a clothing store you seemed to absolutely adore. On many of your clothes resided the word “Pink,” and the blonde student could distantly remember his mom always dragging through malls and passing by a shop with the exact same name. 

        Now, as he stood in front of the bright, highly feminine store, he couldn’t help but sneer disgustedly at its neighbor. Shuddering (and blushing) at the sight, he stepped into the original store, only to bare his teeth at the sight of the one register being in the connecting room. In that store. Bakugou groaned aloud, attracting attention from most of the customers and workers in the area. Snarling back at them, the blond continued to his original goal, wandering into the other, darker half of the shop. 

        “Why the hell are they the same store?!” he muttered to himself with a grossed out expression, all while keeping his head low to avoid staring at the rather lewd clothing around him. Although, it seemed unavoidable at a certain point when Bakugou accidentally ran into a table, looking up to find his path once more only to make eye contact with string. That’s it, he swore that’s all it was. Just… string. What the hell is that gonna do?! His face burned at the sight and he clenched his jaw tightly, searching for the checkout area so he could finish his business and get the hell out of this place. 

        At last, he reached his destination and slammed his palms down on the counter, causing the cashier to flinch with frightened eyes. “Gimme a Pink gift card. Twenty-five dollars,” Bakugou demanded harshly. The girl in front of him instantly lost her patience at the order, and she had to force on a fake smile before replying. 

        “Sorry sir,” her voice was snide. “We only have Victoria’s Secret gift cards here.”

        “Whatever, just give me a damn card,” he barked, shoving the cash into her hands. The teen boy was growing seriously uncomfortable in this place, and he despised that feeling. 

        “Here you go. Have a nice day!” the worker sarcastically chimed, beaming at how anxious he appeared. His lip curled at her tone and he grumbled under his breath as he navigated his way out of the vulgar store. 

                                ###

        Bakugou’s hands trembled as he set down the card on your desk. He was still shaken up over that stupid store, but whenever Kirishima asked him about it, he just shook off the question, mumbling about how he didn’t want to talk about it. Crashing down into his desk, Bakugou miserably shoved his chin into his hands, resting over the surface and waiting impatiently for you to see his gift. He wasn’t stupid this round. In a brightly colored, anonymous card, the blond had written about how he liked you and how he wanted you to buy yourself something nice. It was a genius plan, as now he didn’t have to worry about buying you something. Oh man, if only he had put his damn name on it. 

        When you walked into the chattering classroom and sat in your seat, you inspected the card thoroughly, even poking at it with your goddamn pencil. What the hell? Either way, when you finally opened it like a big girl and watched the special gift card drop unceremoniously onto your desk, you didn’t make a sound. You just… stared. You were totally silent, breathing evenly with a blank face as you inspected the card like it had the secrets to the world. Evidently, you didn’t want to know those secrets, as you abruptly pushed up out of your chair, ever-so gracefully banging it into the desk behind you. Your eyes were dark and unreadable, and you hair acted as a curtain around your face while your fingers braced against the desktop. It was like you were burning the hot pink words printed on the gift card into your brain. 

        Finally, you looked up and stared ahead at the teacher’s board while your face slowly grew enraged. “Mineta, you little creep! I’m gonna kick your ass!” Bakugou jumped at your outburst, observing shakily as you swiftly turned your head to the pint-sized, purple student in the corner of the room. As a result, the little squirt screamed in terror and ran away. You chased him out of the room, and Bakugou couldn’t help but bite his lip tentatively while staring blankly at where you had stood. 

        Kirishima, also shaken by your sudden outburst, made his way over to his best friend’s desk, glancing at yours along the way. Spotting what had made you so upset, the redhead groaned and dragged a hand down his face while shaking his head. “Seriously, Bakugou, Victoria’s Secret? That was your genius idea?” The blond nodded in a daze. “If she ever finds out,” he continued, “she’s going to murder you.” Bakugou could only nod in agreement, still shocked at your reaction to the gift. Was it really that perverted? 

        Helplessly, he stares up at his friend with desperation dripping from his face, whispering a small, “Help me.” Kirishima beams brightly at the admission, placing his hands on his hips.

        “Finally willing to listen, huh?”

        “Don’t push it.” Bakugou massages his temples, exhausted from the week's events. 

        “Don’t you worry, buddy. I have the perfect idea.”

                                ###

        There was still a small, minuscule chance that Kirishima was wrong, right? Bakugou could care less at this point, he just wanted to confess to you. You were strong, stubborn, loud-mouthed, arrogant, and infuriating. He loved it. Ever since you had insulted him back and then proceeded to kick his ass almost beat him up during a training session, he had fallen for you. Which was why he had gone to such lengths for you. He wanted to get you the perfect gift to return all the fuzzy, totally lame feelings you had given him. And apparently, according to Kirishima, a little bunny stuffed animal and a box of chocolates were the best way to begin to do that. The redhead had claimed that gifts wouldn’t make any girl, especially you, fall in love with him instantaneously. Bakugou was doubtful, but according to how all his previous plans had crashed and burned into one spectacularly extravagant trainwreck, he had no room to judge. 

        While letting those thoughts run rampant in his head, the normally tumultuous hero-in-training stood silently in front of your door, awkwardly waiting for you to answer after he had painfully knocked on it with his forehead. What was he supposed to do; his hands were chock full of stuffed rabbit and chocolates. Breathing a sigh of relief when the door opened to reveal you with a soft, sly smile, he shoved his new gifts towards you. 

        “I like you,” he mumbled apprehensively, looking to the side to prevent you from seeing his flushed cheeks. You could barely hear him, but you knew. Oh yeah, you definitely knew. 

        “Took you long enough,” you teased, hugging the presents to your chest. “No offense, but your other gifts were shit. Oh, aside from this.” Fiddling with the heart necklace and giving him a lopsided grin, you tossed the bunny and the chocolates onto your bed behind you before grabbing him by his wrists and tugging him inside, him stumbling in after you with a dropped jaw. “Speaking of, if you really want me to buy new lingerie, I’ll bring you along next time.” You laughed cheekily as Bakugou’s cheeks grew a darker shade of red, and he muttered at you to shut up. 

                                ###

        Bakugou’s arm tightened around your shoulder as you pushed open the door to the classroom, giggling at his deadpan joke while the corner of his mouth quirked up at your bright smile. Directing you to your seat, he released your shoulder and groaned while dropping your bag to the ground. “Ugh, why is that thing so heavy?” he whined, glaring at the weighted object. Laughing at his pain, the pair of you suddenly tense up at a smaller presence behind you. Instantaneously, the both of you grow pissed, you whipping around and glaring while Bakugou wraps his arm around your waist possessively. 

        “What do you want, pipsqueak?” your boyfriend hissed at Mineta. 

        The shorter male’s eyes widened and he took a barely noticeable step back before standing tall once more and proudly announcing, “YN, I was hoping you’ve come to your senses today and realized that you have wrongfully blamed me for a despicable, unthinkable action!” Well, he wasn’t exactly wrong, but that didn’t mean you wanted to admit defeat. Especially to him. Sneering and opening your mouth to respond, the little grape lifted a finger to pause you and continued, “I will, however, forgive you in exchange for a generous kiss.” Ignoring your disgusted look, Mineta closed his eyes and puckered his lips, only to open them once more at the sound of explosions. 

        Bakugou’s grip on your side was practically bruising, while his other hand was raised with an eruptive display for all to see. Snarling ferociously, the blond’s voice was gruff and threatening as he lowly warned, “You better get a head start while you can. I’m gonna beat your ass, you little creep.” Bakugou’s scarlet eyes were glaring nastily at Mineta, and if looks could kill,... well, you know the rest. The purple-haired pervert stumbled back a couple steps before he whimpered and spun around on his toes, hightailing it out of the classroom. Bakugou smiled at the sight and turned to brush his lips against yours. You placed your hand on the back of his neck to hold him there for a couple seconds, gently nibbling on his lower lip before finally pulling away. The tingles his soft kiss left behind compelled you to keep your eyes and revel in the waves of pleasure they evoked. You were content, at least until a loud bang ripped your eyes open. It was the door to the classroom swinging open as you saw the blond hair of your boyfriend disappear into the hallway. 

        “You purple son of a bitch!”

        Wincing at the roar, you hesitantly sat at your desk, sucking air through your teeth and fiddling with the silver locket around your neck.  “Oopsies.”

Hurts to Forget (Bakugou x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: After getting into a scuffle with a villain, you get knocked unconscious and retain minor injuries. At least you thought they were minor. But according to the destructive blond who had blasted his way into your hospital room, your brain might be a little more damaged than you first thought. 

A/N: You get amnesia. That’s it, that’s the story. Really cute, really sad. I hope it’s as good as I think it is… either way, enjoy!

Word count: 2960

        Rain dribbled outside your hospital window while you stared in wonder at the needle lodged in your hand. Wait, was it wonder? Nope, you were wrong; it was agitation. Every now and then you would move to grab your glass of water on the table next to you or take a look at your phone, only to hiss in pain at the sudden jab. You get used to it, my ass, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes at the nurse’s words. You couldn’t even move to, ehm, unwedge the paper-thin hospital gown you were forced to wear. 

      “This is ridiculous,” you muttered, and the nurse standing in the corner of your room with a clipboard finally peered up, if only to serve you a dirty look. You twitched your eyebrows in response and she heaved a large sigh, pushing up off the counter she had been leaning back on. 

      Setting down the clipboard on your legs, she refilled your water glass while occasionally glancing up at you. “I know this sucks, but you hit your head pretty hard, so we need to monitor you in case there’s any serious damage,” she insisted, but the pity in her eyes told you differently. Had they already found the damage? Handing you the cup, she reached for the clipboard once more, preparing to ask the same questions you had answered about a million times by now. 

      “Nope,” you stopped her, “I’ve already told you one too many times before. It’s March thirty-first, my name is YN YLN, I go to U.A. High School, and I’m tired of these stupid questions. I remember everything that happened, so just let me go home!” you pleaded. 

      “YN,” she sighed again, “I’m sorry, I truly am, but this is for your well-being. The symptoms of serious brain damage can take hours to show, and these precautionary steps need to be taken for your health.” Your hands dropped down on the hospital bed beside you and you groaned in exasperation. 

      “You’ve gotta be kidding meee-” your guttural whining was interrupted by a loud bang down the hall from your door. Both you and the nurse looked at each other with frightened eyes. You jumped into action, pulling out your needle and ignoring the liquid that splashed everywhere while you hopped out of bed, but your companion was faster, more prepared. 

      “Sit back down,” she ordered seriously. Her eyes were wide and intimidating, and this was the one time you were actually scared enough to listen. Slowly, you lowered yourself back down on the now-soaked bed, but sat on the edge so as to be ready for anything. Hesitantly, the nurse tiptoed over to the door, and you held your breath in anticipation. 

      The storm arrived and the calm ended when your door literally blasted open and a wave of heat hit you. Choking on the fumes, you barely noticed your nurse get slammed into the wall next to the room’s entrance thanks to the explosion. A figure walked through the smoke and you stood, preparing to fight even though your knees wobbled and your hands shook. 

      “Dammit dumbass, what the hell were you thinking?!” The enraged voice made your racing heart skip, and your defensive stance faltered. “Your stupid ass could have gotten killed, then what?! What am I supposed to do when you’re dead?!” The nonsensical shouting was soon joined by the appearance of a blonde guy stepping closer and closer to your trembling form. His brows were furrowed and his teeth were bared in a snarl. Who is this dickhead? You resisted the urge to gasp at his words, knowing you would choke on the hot air around you anyways.

      “Umm, I think you have the wrong room, dude,” you mumbled with a pointless shrug, suddenly finding the speckled floor fascinating. You braced for impact, maybe another explosion, but it never came. 

      “What is your dumbass on about?” His tone was quieter, and now he seemed more concerned than irate. Surprised at the abrupt mood shift, you glanced back up at his face. Oh wow, his eyes are gorgeous. Maybe crimson was your new favorite color, but this guy’s bitter attitude was kind of ruining it for you. 

      “Hey! Who are you calling a dumbass, dumbass?” you retorted lamely. It was all you could come up with, and to be honest, this guy was giving you quite the headache. Either way, that seemed to enliven the eruptive blond once more. 

      “What are you, stupid? It’s me, idiot, and now’s not the time to joke. Tell me what happened.” Okay, this boy and his repetitiveness was getting on your nerves. Glancing up at the ceiling, you prayed for grace and patience while dealing with your unwelcome visitor. After exhaling loudly into his face, you shouldered past him and trudged over to your unconscious nurse through the rubble he had caused. 

      “Look jerkwad, like I’ve said, you’ve got the wrong room.” Using your super strength, you picked her up and lugged her over to your own bed, unceremoniously dropping her before dusting off your hands and swinging back around to face the guy. “And I think you’ve caused enough trouble in here. You should probably leave.” You nodded your head to the door just in case he had forgotten where the destroyed exit was. 

      “YN, I don’t think you’re okay.” He brushes off your words, grabbing your hand and tugging you towards the door. “We need to find someone to help you.” Clenching your jaw at his ignorance, you ripped your hand away from his grasp.

      “Dude, how many times do I have to tell you, you’ve got the wrong girl! Now leave.” You harshly point to the door and glare at him, losing your patience. The blond’s hands twitched at his sides and he looked about ready to blow his top, his maroon orbs lit like a bonfire. Then, it was almost as if someone had stolen the spine right out of him in an instant. Slowly unfurling his fists, he slumped his shoulders and turned his head to the side, avoiding your gaze.

      “Fine. I’ll leave you alone. Just... promise me you’ll get some help, YN.” You blanched at his surrender, but he didn’t wait for your response. Promptly, he whipped around and sauntered out of the smoky room, his hands stuffed indignantly in his pockets. Letting out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding, you bit your lip. You almost felt bad, but you didn’t know why. His words had been insulting and had stung your heart, not to mention he had KOed your nurse. Overall, the guy seemed… just terrible. So why did you suddenly want his presence back?

                           ###

      It took a couple more days in the hospital and another week locked in your own home before you were finally allowed to return to school.

Bouncing up and down in your seat on the subway, you couldn’t keep the giddy grin off your face. You were just so excited to return to class and train instead of lazing around your house all day. Also, there was an inkling in the back of your mind that you would see someone there. Someone you missed, but couldn’t remember for the life of you.

Shrugging it off, you plugged in your earbuds and strutted to the beats of your music all the way to the entrance of your classroom.

Once there, you beamed are the sight of the oversized door, pushing it open and stepping inside like it was the entrance to an elegant ball.

      “YN, you’re back!” the voices of your classmates harmonized as they jumped up at your arrival. 

      “We heard you got whammied,” Kaminari spoke up first with a smirk. You scoffed.

      “Of course not. I got like thirty blows in before he finally took a swing. It just so happened to catch me in a bad spot is all,” you waved off his suggestion. 

      “So what happened, then?” Mina spoke up. 

      “Well, I saw a villain trying to hurt some innocent kids, so I called the cops, right? But they weren’t showing up fast enough, so I-” you were interrupted by the loud bang of the door whipping open. The chattering around the room died of instantly, and all your classmates’ attention was drawn to whoever had just arrived behind you.

Confused, you turned around to see what had caused such a reaction, only to see the asshole from a week ago. “Ugh, you’re here too?” you melodramatically whined. 

      The blonde didn’t reply, but he seemed to wince at your comment. His silence baffled you, but you figured maybe he was only okay with cussing people out in private. He walked past you and completely dismissed your presence.

Bewildered, you observe as your classmates silently moved out of his way so he could take his seat on the far side of the room. They had all watched your one-sided interaction with perplexed eyes, and you couldn’t take it anymore. 

      “Okay, why are you guys acting so weird now?” you prompt them, only to widen your eyes at the numerous gasps you received. Overdramatic much?

      “YN, did you two break up?” Uraraka asked, watching you sadly. 

      “Break up? Us two? What are you talking about? By the way, who is that guy?” Your numerous questions only served to confuse your audience even more, and they all grew somber and awkward, avoiding your gaze. You almost spontaneously combusted when Kaminari began to casually whistle while looking away, but someone finally spoke up.

      “YN,” Iida’s matter-of-fact tone was gentler than usual when he stated, “it seems you have amnesia.”

Aww man, you missed these guys.

Ignoring the baffled stares, you began to giggle, short little burst bursts of chortles before slowly easing into all-out howls as you held your stomach from the pain. Your laughter prompted the others to join you, chuckling lightly while still exchanging confused glances with each other. 

      Wiping the tears from your eyes, you snickered. “Nice joke guys. But seriously, who’s the new kid?”

A loud crash boomed after your statement and you peered over to see the blond guy stepping out of his chair and stomping towards you. Tensing up at his glare, you choked out a sigh of relief after he thankfully bulldozed right past you.

You scoffed uncomfortably, releasing another anxious chuckle. “Okay, what’s up with that guy?” You pointed your thumb behind you jokingly, but your face fell when you only received pitying gazes in response. 

                           ###

      Bakugou sat out on the entrance steps of the school, picking up pebbles and blasting them away with his quirk.

Miserable, that’s what he was. He didn’t want to cry, that was for sure. He was pissed off and it was raining. Yeah, it’s just raining out, he tried to assure himself.

It didn’t work.

Eyes burning and teeth clenching, the top U.A. student folded his arms over his knees and pressed his face into them, hissing curses at himself.

“This is stupid. Why is she so stupid? Why did that dumbass have to forget everything?” he scolded angrily, digging his nails into the fabric of his pants.

Just as he began to see stars behind his eyelids, a gentle hand patted his shoulder. Bakugou jerked his head up violently, baring his teeth and glaring at the intruder. The act dwindled into a mere whimper when he soon identified the sight.

      “H-hey,” you stammered, your eyes looking at anything but him. Pulling your hand away, you slowly lowered yourself down next to him and flattened out your skirt.

Bakugou glanced back down at his knees and scooted away from you slightly.

Glowering at the action, you tried not to take it too much to heart. Instinctively, you began to pick at the skin on your hands before finally finding the courage to speak.

“Look,” you mumbled, “umm, my- our friends told me about… you know, us, and how we were, um, together and stuff.”

You glanced over at him, but only received a grunt in response, so you looked back down and continued, scratching at your hands even harder.

“I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry I don’t remember… you know, us. From what they told me, it sounded like you- erhm, we were really happy together.”

Bakugou didn’t say a word, but he ducked his head even farther down, biting his lip and clenching his eyes shut.

Uh oh, if he thought that was bad then here comes the kicker. 

      “So, look, I don’t know you enough for us to get back together, and to be honest, you seem kind of like a jerk— sorry, that was mean. A-anyways, I just wanted to say that… um, maybe we could try being friends again, I guess.” Apparently the suggestion wasn’t good enough for the explosive blond, because he went off.

      “Are you kidding me?! Friends?! You only want to be friends again?!” Bakugou’s voice was tight and rushed, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “Come on YN! We’ve been through so much together. Please, just remember me!”

The desperation in his pleas made you tear up, and words lodged themselves in your throat. 

      “I’m sorry! I don’t know how to!” you exclaim. You began to sniffle as tears trailed down your face. This boy, this poor boy was heartbroken over a relationship that you don’t even remember. Your heart, your head, everything began to hurt, and when you looked over at him once more, the pain only increased.

He was leaning over towards you, one hand paused in your direction while the other supported him on the rough concrete below. His eyes were puffy and wet, but he appeared frustrated. 

      “Please.” His voice cracked mid-whisper, and he stared directly into your eyes, into your soul.

Shaking your head dejectedly, you placed both your hands on his shoulders and pulled him towards you. The hug took both your breaths away, but neither of you minded as he crushed you into his chest. 

      Crying silently for the forgotten boy, you mumbled into his neck, “I’m so, so sorry. I just don’t know how.”

You felt his jaw spasm against your collarbone, and he tore his head away to look you in the eyes harshly. 

      His nostrils flared, and under his breath he muttered, “Please don’t hit me.”

Before you could question him, he placed his hand on the back of your neck and pushed your lips onto his.

It felt right. So so right... No wait, you didn’t know him! 

Suddenly growing shocked by his actions, your eyes widened as you tried to push him away with your hands on his chest, but he never let up. He kept your lips pressed hard against his own while he held you in place, two hands cupping your cheeks.

At the last second, you decided to use your strength to resist, but then something hits you. Like a brain freeze, you tensed up at the sudden wave of pressure directly behind your eyes.

Memories. There were memories, hundreds of them, all playing like a movie in your head.

The first day you met, when you asked him to spar. He had cackled haughtily in your face as a response, only to holler in surprise when you swiped his leg out from under him. “Oh, now it’s on,” he had snarled up at you from the ground.

Then the first time he had asked you out. It had been Valentine's Day, and he had thrown a bouquet of flowers at you sitting peacefully at your desk. They hit you in the face harshly while he shouted with a red face, “We’re going to the movies tonight!”

Then your first kiss. During training you had socked him right in the face. “Ow, you son of a bitch!” You covered your mouth while gasping, and then began to giggle.

      “Sorry, you want me to kiss it better?” you suggested while snickering.

      “Actually, yes.” He tugged you in swiftly as your lips collided, albeit a little brutally from the initial force. 

       And now, as you pulled away from him with closed eyes and a dazed smile at the memories, you couldn't help but scoff at his brash words from when he had first seen you hurt.

Opening your eyes to smack him in the chest, he let out a less-than-manly shriek at the sudden change in sensations before glaring at you harshly, his eyes still puffy and red. 

      “What the hell was that for?” he barked at you, lip curled back into a vicious snarl. 

      “Who the hell do you think you are? Why did you barge into my hospital room and think it was a good idea to call me a dumbass first thing? You knew I got hit in the head, how could you-”

Your scolding is abruptly stopped when Bakugou tugs you back into his familiar, strong arms.

You release a breathless foof as all the oxygen in you chest is forced right back out into the atmosphere once more. Smiling and laughing under your breath at his needy skinship, you gently patted his back while letting your lips brush against his ear. 

      “I’m glad you’re back.” His voice was muffled in your shirt, but you still understood and kept rubbing his back soothingly.

After a few minutes of sitting like that, he pulls away. His face is still locked in a signature frown, but there’s a livelier glint in his eyes. Still, Bakugou seems to have an irresistible urge perfectly in that moment to chastise you. “But I swear to God, if you ever get hurt and forget about me ever again, I will blast your ass to outer space.”

      “Wow, that didn’t take long,” you rolled your eyes, smiling adoringly. 

      “Hey,” he rested his hand on your cheek, his maroon eyes hardened and dark, “I’m serious.” 

      “I know,” you whisper back, laying your hand over his own to keep him in place. “I promise I’ll be more careful from now on. I swear.” Pressing another kiss to his lips, he smirked into it before pulling away with mischievous eyes and standing, lending you a hand to rise as well. 

      “Good, you better… dumbass.”

      “Hey!”