Chapter Text
BestFriendProHero Bakugo Katsuki x Reader
Angst, Fluff, Sexual Tension (not explicitly NSFW)
₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
Part 1 ❤︎
3 Days Prior⊹ ࣪ ˖
You and Katsuki had been best friends since childhood. You two just clicked. Together, you had worked your way through UA with plans to open a joint agency.
He had developed a soft — or as soft as the Great Explosion Murder God can be — spot for you. There was an unspoken tension bubbling below your “friendship.”
You and Katsuki had been assigned a low-level mission together — you went on a lot of missions together as you were in the process of establishing your agency.
Before rushing off to the location, Katsuki got another call for a different mission.
“Go, I got this. Easy,” you had said. Reluctantly, Katsuki nodded and left.
During your mission, you were hit by a small villain attack. Your injuries were small - a broken wrist and bruising — nothing Recovery Girl couldn’t fix in a few minutes. Despite them being minor, it’s enough for Katsuki to lose his shit.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he had said, slamming his hands onto the table. “This could have been so much worse. You gotta stop being fucking reckless. If you’re gonna keep pullin’ crap like this, maybe you’re not ready for our agency!“
Your heart dropped to your stomach. Not ready? For you and his agency? The one you had gone through literal hell for?
“One mistake and suddenly I’m not good enough to stand beside you?” you said.
“Fuck - that’s not what I meant,” he growled, “How can I trust that you’ll come back to me in one piece?”
“So this is about trust?” your voice cracked.
“How am I supposed to trust you if you talk to me like that? Like I’m not fucking worthy?!” You turned on your heel, storming away.
“You know that’s not what I fucking meant!" he called after you. “Fine fucking walk away!” he shouted.
Present ⊹ ࣪ ˖
You were never big into drinking. Only indulged on occasional outings with friends or over a bowl of good Italian food with a big glass of wine.
There was a party tonight at a fancy private, elite club to celebrate Kirishima's 20th birthday - you were all finally legal. And hell, you deserved to let loose after the years of hard work. And to ease the sinking feeling in your stomach. You and Katsuki seldom fought —and always made up right away.
You’d managed to pull yourself out of bed after sulking for the last three days.
You put extra effort into your appearance tonight because it’s Kiri’s birthday party - at least that’s what you told yourself, but perhaps it has more to do with a certain blonde.
You did your hair, makeup, and put on your favorite dress - the one with the high slit and plunging back.
You arrived early with Mina to set up and were currently sitting at the bar, arranging a tower of shots for when the rest of the friends arrive.
“Soooo,” Mina says, sliding in next to you, “You gonna tell me why you decided to come early with me?”
“Whatdoyamean?” you say, “Just wanted to help out.”
“Ms. I’m-always-notoriously-late-for-everything and also always show up with Bakugo just had a change of heart?” Mina laughs. “I don’t buy it.”
You lean on the bar counter, groaning into your arms.
“S’nothing,” you mumble.
Mina laughs and rubs your back.
“It’ll all work out,” she says, “He does love you after all.”
Your eyes shoot up to her, the flush on your cheeks betraying your glare.
“Love you, girl,” Mina says, laughing and walking back towards the entrance as Kiri and Sero walk in.
You mingle politely with the others as they stream in. It’s a mix between friends from UA and other people Kirishima knows well —the guy is sure as hell social. The turnout is bigger than you expected.
You’d be lying to yourself if you said your eyes weren’t straying to the door every so often, checking to see if Katsuki had arrived.
You sip on a martini, leaning against the wall. You watch as people dance among the lush, black velvet seats, the dark lighting and music contributing to the atmosphere.
You can feel your stomach twist like a sixth sense. Katsuki was here. You knew before you even turned around.
He was standing against the bar and shit —
Fuck.
He looked good. Too good. Dressed head to toe in a black suit. His spiky hair was more tame than usual, while still ragged and wild.
You swear you can smell his sweet, caramel scent mixed with something very manly, and very Katsuki, from across the club.
You felt the heat pool on your stomach alongside the growing ache in your heart.
“Maybe you’re not ready for an agency together.”
His words replayed in your mind.
He was your best friend. And your….something else. He’d made you feel things you couldn’t quite explain. From the stolen glances from across the classroom in high school to the constant sleepovers following the war. It was all so confusing.
And fuck. You didn't want to think about all that right now.
You turn to the bar, getting three shots of vodka and downing them. The heat in your stomach is quickly replaced by the heat of the alcohol.
“Hell yeah, girl!” Mina shouts, coming up to you. “Another round?” she smirks.
Three shots later, and your head is spinning. You glance up at where Katsuki was standing before. His eyes pierce you with a harsh glare. You turn and walk directly onto the dance floor.
You’re gonna have fun. You’re gonna try to forget what Katsuki said to you. And you’re gonna try to forget the soft way he laughs when you’re alone together. The way his hair looks after waking up and the way your chest tightens when he smiles at you. And —
Shit. No more thinking about him.
You start dancing with Mina to the music, arms in the air and hips swaying. Some twenty minutes and a few more shots go by before Mina is winking and dancing with a guy. You give her a thumbs up and keep dancing.
It’s not long before a pair of hands falls on your hips. You turn and come face-to-face with a man you’ve never seen before.
“Umm, excuse—," you are cut off by a husky before you could say anything else.
“Back the fuck off.” Katsuki is behind you in an instant, shoving the guy away from you. He wraps one arm around your waist, pulling you against him.
“She yours or something?” the guy questions.
“She's not a piece of fucking property,” Katsuki growls.
The guy rolls his eyes. “Whatever. She your girl though?”
“Yeah. She is.”
You feel a shiver run down your spine at his words. His.
Damn it, you like him protecting you. But you need to show him you can fight your own battles - even if you get hurt.
“You heard him,” you say.
The guy glares at you, and you deliver a harsh flick to his forehead with your quirk.
“Jesus, whatever,” the guy grumbles, walking away.
Katuski says your name, and you turn to meet his eyes.
“You ok?” he says, his voice soft but gruff.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Thank you,” you say, staring up at him.
Katsuki nods. The air between you is heavy and charged.
The music slows down, low and sultry.
“Dance with me?” you ask, testing the waters.
Katusuki scoffs but nods. You put your hands around his neck, and he tentatively goes to your waist.
You lean in to him, whispering into his ear. “I’m still mad at you, you know.”
“Tch. I know, idiot,” Katsuki grumbles. “I’m sorry. ‘didn’t mean it. Wanted to apologize to you but was gonna wait till you were sober.”
I nod softly at him. “You still wanna open an agency with me?”
“Dumbass. Of course I do. Nothing would ever change that,” Katsuki says.
You stare up into his eyes and giggle, the alcohol making you bubbly.
Katsuki cocks an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips.
“What are you laughin’ at, huh?” he says.
“Nothing,” you giggle, “Just looking at you. You have a stupid face. A stupid, beautiful face. You know that? But it’s my favorite one to look at.”
Katsuki's cheeks flush. “What the hell are you on about, women?”
“Katsuki, I’m fine. Really,” you say. But then the lights suddenly start to feel too bright and the music too loud.
“Suki? ‘ wanna go home.”
Katsuki nods, relieved to finally get out of this fucking club.
Katsukis POV ⊹ ࣪ ˖
I adjust myself through my pants discreetly as the cab pulls up.
Fuck, I should not be hard right now. Butgoddamn.
That dress. Your voice. You. It’s fucking with my senses.
I feel awful for what I said earlier this week. I was an idiot. I already apologized to you but I plan on doing it again. When you’re sober. And with flowers and dinner and all that other sappy shit.
I give the driver the address to my apartment. You sit close next to me, resting your head on my shoulder.
Jesus women. You have no fucking clue what you do to me.
The drive goes by fast with you babbling on about god knows what.
We arrive, and I unlock the door to my apartment. You rush in, giggling, and throw yourself on my couch.
“Sukiiiii babyyy,” you whine, “C’mere!!!”
“Tch. Quite fucking saying my name like that,” I say, stalking over. “Gonna give me the wrong fucking idea,” I mumble.
“Maybe that's exactly what I’m trying to do,” you whisper, glancing up at me with those big eyes.
Holy shit.
It’s embarrassing what that does to me. Somehow, my cock gets impossibly harder, pressing against my pants painfully.
“Fucking hell, women. You’re drunk. You don’t know what you are saying.”
Your face turns down in a small scowl.
“I know exactly what the fuck I’m saying, Katsuki Bakugo. And I want this. Have wanted this f’so fucking longggg and —"
“Stop it,” I snap.
God, you need to stop this drunk fucking bullshit that's already starting to fuck with my head.
Your face breaks, a wave of undeniable sadness and rejection flooding your emotions.
“You don’t want me? You never have? Not once?” you slur, the alcohol messing with all your emotions.
“Shit, no — god that's not what I meant. But — listen to me. You’re drunk. And I’m not doing anything stupid that you won’t want once you sober up.”
“What makes you think I haven’t wanted this for fucking ever, Katsu? What makes you think this is the first time I’ve thought about you like this? Because it is far, far from the first time.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Something in my stomach tightens, and I swear I see stars dancing in my eyes for a second.
All the fucking emotions I’ve nearly killed myself trying to hide come abruptly ripping to the surface—sharp, hot, impossible to ignore.
I drag a hand through my hair.
“Don’t—” My voice cracks. Fucking cracks.
“Don’t say that shit to me when you’re drunk, princess.”
Because if even a fraction of it’s true…
If you really wanted me that long… I
I'm one breath away from ruining everything.
I growl your name, my last bit of self-restraint breaking through.
“You’re going to fucking bed.” I hoist you up from the couch and carry you to my bedroom.
Lying you on the bed, I slip off your heels. You look up at me softly, and I can tell you’re damn near ready to fall asleep after that copious amount of alcohol.
I walk to my closet and pull out an oversized t-shirt — the one I know you love — and sweatpants. Walking back to the bed, I look down at you.
“You need to change.”
You roll over, barring your back to me, silently indicating you want help unzipping it.
“Tch. Needy idiot,” I say, but unzip your dress slowly. I try to ignore the way my hands shake. Fucking pathetic.
I slip the oversized t-shirt over the dress and help you pull the sweatpants on under it before slipping the dress off.
Thank God for that maneuver. I wanna keep you fucking decent.
“Sleep,” I say, tucking the covers around you.
As I begin to walk away from the bedroom, your hand softly wraps around my wrist.
“Stay,” you whisper.
My heart jumps to my throat. It’s not like you’ve never shared a bed. I mean, after all, you had weekly movie sleepover nights. But I couldn’t. Not tonight.
“Can’t,” my voice is rough and gravely.
The truth is, sleeping next to you after that confession would be hell. And I’m not sure I could do it.
“Please?” Your voice is unnaturally soft. Begging, even. My heart breaks at the sound.
“Sweets, I —,” say, looking down at you, all soft and pleading. That look. I can feel my brain short-circuiting.
God, I just wanna protect you. And make you smile. And laugh. Keep you safe. And spend the rest of my life—
I inhale sharply.
“Fine. I’ll be back in a minute,” I say. “Gonna go get changed. Sleep.”
I stalk into the bathroom and take a freezing cold shower — willing my dick to calm down and my heart to stop beating so damn fast.
Once I’m dressed and calm, or as calm as I can be, I walk back into the bedroom. Slipping on the opposite side from you, I hear your soft snoring.
“G’night princess,” I say.
The Next Morning - Your POV ⊹ ࣪ ˖
The first thing you feel is the pounding headache.
You groan, rubbing your eyes and sitting up.
What happened last night?
You remember the party and the alcohol. You remember dancing with Mina and then that weird guy who touched you. And then…Katsuki. And getting in the cab with him and coming to his apartment. And then you confessed —
No. No. Shit.
You had spewed your feelings. Raw and unfiltered.
Flashes hit you in disjointed, nauseating bursts—
Katsuki’s couch blurring under you,
Your voice too loud in the quiet of his apartment,
the way your fingertips brushed his jaw,
his sharp inhale.
You squeeze your eyes shut.
God.
You remember enough.
Not every word.
Not the exact order.
But the important pieces?
Yeah, those come back crystal clear.
You remember the way your chest burned when you told him you’d wanted him for so long.
You remember his name, tearing from your throat like a prayer—“Katsu…”
You remember him freezing.
You remember the look on his face—
shocked, pained, something else you were too drunk to read.
And worst of all…
You remember the truth in your own voice.
There wasn’t a hint of hesitation when you told him you wanted him.
Not drunken courage.
Just honesty you’d never meant to spill.
Your stomach churns.
God, what the hell had you done?
You feel your stomach swirl with anxiety. You had just ruined your friendship. You had let all those thoughts you had so impressively kept under wraps for years spill out.
Katsuki was probably terrified. Disgusted even.
You look around his room. You sit alone in his bed. The feeling in your stomach worsens until your eyes land on the nightstand.
Your favorite drink from the cafe you and Katsuki frequent is sitting there, alongside 2 painkillers. The smell of pancakes hits your nose.
You down the Advil and sip the drink as you stand up, making your way to the kitchen. You try to ignore the aggressive pounding in your chest.
Katsuki stands at the stove, his back to you. He is wearing a wife-beater — his toned, prominent muscles on full display — as he cooks breakfast.
You clear your throat.
“Hi, Katsuki.”
He turns around, his face uncharacteristically soft, his crimson eyes doing little to hide the timid feeling in his chest.
“Morning,” he says, plating the food and setting it out on the table. “Eat.”
You sit across from each other and begin eating in silence.
“I have a meeting today. From noon to four,” Katsuki says gruffly. “I want you to meet me back here at 6. Wearing something nice. ‘Kay?”
You nod, your curiosity piqued. This is going a lot less…badly than you had expected.
You’re not sure what you had expected, but it definitely wasn’t being invited back for dinner after your admission last night.
You nod slowly, but your heart is pounding so loud you’re sure he can hear it.
Katsuki watches you too carefully, like he’s trying to memorize your expression.
“Six,” he repeats, lower this time. “Don’t be late.”
As you leave, Katsuki exhales sharply like he’s fighting with himself.
“Just… come back,” he murmurs without looking at you.
“Please.”
You’ve never heard him say that word before.
Ever.