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confusedmomfriend · 2 years ago

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Can I say this is the most INTENSE first chapter of a fic I have ever had the absolute pleasure of reading. All the characters feel so authentic and the fic is so well written. All the characters are impeccably flawed and the tensions between them is so authentic. It has all the intricacies of being young and in love and experiencing heartbreak and sexual frustrations. Begrudgingly falling for someone you never thought you could and slowly moving on from the someone you thought as forever. It also portrays reader’s conflicting feelings so realistically. She doesn’t just immediately get over shouto because bakugo is nice to her and exhibits her growing conscience and maturity in the most intricate ways. The entire read felt so safe like the author knew exactly where they wanted to take the fic and it’s just an incredible piece in my opinion.

chapter one: the cabin in the woods

of love & lemons | k.bakugo | m.list

▸ ▸ ▸ warnings: angst, making out, pining

▸ ▸ ▸ wc: 6.3k

▸ ▸ ▸ a/n: here we go (again!) i really hope you enjoy this the second time around ♡ if you find any instances of reader "blushing" pls let me know! there were so many and i am one woman 😵‍💫

It's been a semester and a half at UUA, and all of the "young professionals" in the Hero Course have been worked to the bone; both academically and physically.

You glance around the clearing and beyond at the massive fir and cedar and redwoods softly illuminated by the flaming fire not ten feet from your boots, up at the moon shining so vividly amongst the stars in the blackened sky.

Just up the main trail behind you is the mansion of a log cabin the lot of you are staying in, and honestly, you just wanna slip back inside and snuggle up in your futon.

This training camp was supposed to round up the semester by way of bettering the students and letting them enjoy the college experience, all in the seclusion of the most expensive log cabin on the most densely wooded mountain the universtiy could afford.

However… you're not really feeling it.

This first night has everyone gathered around the campfire, Ochako and Mina toasting marshmallows, while everyone else listens with baited breath as All Might tells one of his never-before-heard stories about his early heroic endeavours.

Turns out sometimes being a hero can be disgusting work. He says he smelt like rotten flesh for days afterwards.

You sit between Shouto and Kaminari on your long log seat, Momo on Shouto’s other side and Kyoka on Kaminari’s. It doesn’t bother you that Kaminari and Kyoka are getting cosy beside you, but the other two… that’s a blow you were half expecting. For too long you’d harboured secret feelings for Shouto Todoroki, and the past year he’d made it painfully clear he was into Momo.

You're ecstatic, though; Aizawa brought beer.

“Don’t tell your mom.” He warns you, cracking it open and handing it to you.

“What, like I'm not 22 years old?" You scoff, taking it with a grin and a roll of your eyes.

"Don't need the board knowing I'm actively supplying my students— the next generation of heroes— with contraband."

"Is there heroin in this beer?"

"Your smart mouth's gonna get you in trouble one of these days."

"Or…" You flutter your lashes overdramatically. "Out of it?"

"Get outta my sight." He grunts, nose wrinkled, waving you away.

You decide against returning to your previous spot; sure, no one is kissing or getting handsy, but it’s still awkward on your behalf. Sandwiched between two couples? No thanks.

The only space open is between Bakugo and Sero, so that's where you set your sights.

“Tastes gross.” You mumble, shuffling closer to Sero, butting in on his conversation with Sato.

“What were you expecting?” He laughs, elbowing you gently in the side, nursing his own can.

“Ah, something easier to drink.” You laugh, taking another mouthful with a scowl before noticing the slender bottle in the bigger man's hand. "What's that?"

Sato's eyes widen a smidge before guit takes over. "Hm? Vodka… cranberry?"

"Swap with me!" You huff, accusatory, practically leaning over Sero to get to him.

"Not a chance, grumpy." Sero places his whole hand over your face and pushes you back.

"'m not gr'mpy!" You manage to get out.

Sero and Sato tease you mercilessly, until the conversation somehow shifts to Shouto and Momo across the campfire. Slyly, you eject yourself from their gossip, leaning away from them and glancing over to Bakugo, who’s watching Izuku sit down next to Ochako.

You watch for a bit, too, notice how she builds him a s'more and practically shoves it down his throat. She's got hearts in her eyes, for sure, and he's more than happy to humour her.

Bakugo’s expression— something you can only equate to longing— hurts your heart a little, makes you glance back over to Shouto and Momo.

They're laughing, and he's sat his varsity jacket over her shoulders like some kind of claiming ritual.

“Let’s go for a walk.” You finish your can, crush it, melt it down in your hands with your quirk, and toss it into the fire. “Bakugo.” You say a little louder when he doesn’t move.

“Talkin’ to me, shitface?” He hisses, not even moving to look at you.

“Yes, asshole. Come on.” You stand, hands on hips expectantly. Surprisingly, he stands. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and steps over the log you were sharing with the other two, you follow suit.

“Where are you going?” Aizawa asks, voice just loud enough to stop conversation.

“For a walk, professor.” You sigh. “I promise I’ll protect your precious Katsuki from harm if we happen to cross any.”

“Fuck you, bitch.” Bakugo hisses venomously.

“Okay, don’t get lost! The trees here are thickly packed.” All Might waves, opening a can of soda and taking a long drink.

“Sure, professor. C’mon, idiot.” You mumble, walking past him and into the thick of the trees, following a barely there dirt path.

When you’re far enough away from the fire, the laughing and canoodling, he stops. “Why the fuck are we out here?” He asks gruffly, glancing up at the glowing moon through the trees.

"Just think we needed to get away from it all."

"Speak for your damn self, loser." He scoffs.

"You didn't exactly look like you were having a blast either." You glare, annoyed.

"I was fine."

"Liar!" You accuse, a little louder than you shouldve, getting into his personal space. You take a deep breath, calm your fraying nerves. "You were giving Ochako the goo-goo eyes and she was givin' em to Deku."

“The fuck I was!” He hisses, pushing you back against a tree with a handful of your sweater.

You raise your hands in surrender, glance down at his fist bunched at your chest. “You were! And it’s… okay, but she’s not… she… she loves Deku, right?” You probe, gently. His nostrils flare and you think he’s gonna punch you, but he doesn’t.

“I don’t like her, she’s just… she’s nice, okay?” He admits, stepping back from you; you smooth down your shirt. “Not like you and fucking Halfie.”

Anger flares in your chest and heat emanates from your clenched fists. “Don’t act like I’m some lovesick loser.”

“Aren’t you?” He asks almost softly, crimson eyes narrowing, trying to decipher your expression.

Your heart throbs, and your anger deflates.

“I don’t know.” You whine, run a hand down your face. “Fuck.”

“And what? You think we’re the same, so we can have a heart to fucking heart about it and support each other? What kinda fucking crap is that?” He resumes his hunched standing, kicks a stone.

“No, I…” What were you expecting? “Ugh, I don’t even know.”

You always could be yourself around Bakugo, really let loose. He doesn't take your shit, and you don't take his. You wouldn’t say you’re friends, but you and Eijiro were the only ones not to be frightened off by his explosive exterior, back in high school, and even now at University.

“Let’s just walk then. C’mon.” He’s exasperated, but he’s inviting you to stay with him, so you do.

And hey, no name calling. Things are looking up.

You wind through trees, hot on his heels, until you get to a clearing with a pond; moon and stars shining on its surface. Bakugo sits on a boulder, looks up at the sky. You find your own seat, cross your legs on the grassy edge of the pond.

“I don’t get him, ya know? I mean, you’d be perfect, right? Someone to always train with, an equal.” He’s meeting your gaze when you turn to look at him, confused. “You’re fucking flame resistant, and you’ve shown on multiple occasions that you can melt his shitty ice.”

“So, he should find me sexually attractive?” You raise a brow at him, lean back on your hands.

“You’re not the ugliest person in class.” He rolls his eyes.

“And you’re so charming.” You say melodramatically, falling back into the grass, hands behind your head, eyes finding those stars again.

“I guess if it were me picking outta you and the nerd, I’d rather you.” He shrugs, picking up at stone and throwing it into the water with a plop.

“If you want me to say I’d pick you over Izuku, you’re gonna have to bribe me.” You mumble, and he actually laughs—not full blown laughter, but definitely a throaty chuckle. Bakugo is hot, no doubt, but his attitude sucks ass; this side of him… it’s different. Rare.

You cast a sideways glance at him, admire the bone structure of his face in the moonlight. It accentuates his scowl. He's wearing that orange beanie one of his fangirls decorated him for his 21st birthday; she'd cross stitched the kanji of his hero name on the front with his signature explosion headpiece bordering it.

Honestly, it's really cool, and a lot of the other guys were super jealous, but that's not something you're willing to tell him. It's never a good idea to stroke Bakugo's ego.

You both stay there for a long time, Bakugo tossing stones, you overthinking. What was it about her? What was it with Momo? She may be a femme fatale in every aspect but personality, but the fact that she's a really genuine person only makes you feel worse. She's honestly flawless, and Shouto could only be so lucky.

And you. You need to get over it.

“C’mon, let’s go back.” Bakugo sighs, standing and stretching. When you don’t move, he stands over you, scowling and pouting. “You told Aizawa you’d protect me.”

And you laugh then, at the bizarreness of the situation, at the look on his face, his soft words. He holds his hand out and you take it.

“I suppose I could use a bath.” You sigh, and he pulls you up with a little too much force. You smack right into his chest, palm splayed, and he grabs your hip with his free hand to steady you. “Sorry,” You whisper, unnervingly close to him. He makes a sound from deep in his chest, you cough, step away from him. He glances away.

“This way.” He mumbles, and you realise he hasn’t called you anything offensive for at least half an hour.

Aizawa and All Might are the only people left at the dying fire when you return, and you wonder how long you’ve really been gone.

“Goin’ to bed.” Bakugo mumbles, pushing past you and towards the house. Aizawa and All Might watch him leave, then both sets of eyes are on you.

“Young Shouto asked us to wait up for you.” All Might says, taking a can from the cooler box. Orange soda. For some reason, it makes you angry. If he cared so much, he would have waited himself.

Aizawa can see your mind ticking, yet he stays quiet.

“Well, sorry, then. For making you both wait up.” You mumble, stifle a yawn. “See you at breakfast.”

All Might calls a goodnight, and you’re repeating his sentence in your head like a crazy person as you walk away.

Young Todoroki asked us to wait up for you.

Your chest tightens up and you clench your teeth, an overwhelming sadness washing over you. Your feet crunch on gravel and tears well in your eyes. You sniff, rub your face and make it to the wooden steps of the cabin before collapsing in a heap on them.

You tell yourself it’s the alcohol making you so dramatic. You tell yourself you’re just tired. But nothing works, tears run down your cheeks, slow and fat and full of heartache.

A hard hand lands on your shoulder and you hide your face in your hands. “You’re stronger than this, idiot.” Bakugo grumbles, falling to sit next to you.

“Go… a—away.” You sob helplessly, trying your hardest to stay quiet.

“Fucking hell.” He says under his breath, and he just sits there with you for a while as you cry, let it all out.

He huffs a sigh from his nose, and a hand wraps around your shoulder, forcing you down into his lap. His hand doesn’t leave your arm, he gently rubs it, uses the fingers of his other hand to pry your hands from your face.

“Seriously,” He frowns, and you finally look up at him, eyes wet and puffy. “Use that fucking brain of yours.” He scolds, but he’s not as harsh as he usually is. “He. Ain’t. Worth. It.” He drills into you, poking your forehead with each syllable.

You sit up, wipe your eyes, frown at him. “I can't… I can't help it.”

The front door creaks open, and you both turn to see Ochako standing there with a phone light shining at you, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She gasps when she sees the state of you, and you turn away to hide your face.

“Bakugo, leave her alone.” She gasps, jumping to her own conclusions.

“Wha—” He starts, but you cut him off.

“No, Ochako, it—it’s just me. I…” You take a deep breath, glance over at Bakugo’s offended expression. “I had way too much beer.” You manage, forcing a laugh. “This asshole’s actually helping me.” You say with the best chuckle you can muster, wiping the remains of your tears.

“Oh.” Her eyes jump between you and him, then fall to the floor. “Well, don’t stay up too late, hm?” She smiles tightly, turning and heading back inside. She closes the door softly.

“Fuck.” You breathe, falling back down into his lap. He bristles. “What, the tears stop, and I can’t use your lap anymore?” His hands grab your shoulders, sit you back up.

“Yes.” He glares. “My compassion has limits.”

You roll your eyes. “Well, I’m sorry you had to waste it on me.”

“I didn’t waste it on you, you stinkin’ turd.” He folds his arms, eyes narrowing at you.

For some reason, you have the overwhelming urge to either deck him or kiss him. Your own frown grows on your face, uncomfortable with the idea of the latter. “Go to bed, Bakugo, I’m fine.”

“No, you go. Last time I left your drunk ass alone, you came back cryin’.” But there’s no malice, and it’s confusing because this is Bakugo, the angriest guy you’ve ever met.

And for the second time tonight you’re thinking he’s actually incredibly good looking under that scowl he wears, and he’s… caring? He must see your mind ticking, because he stands up, holds out a hand for you to take, which you do; you’re fascinated by how small your hand is in his, then he lets go, practically pushes you up the steps.

“Go to sleep.” He grinds out, as you tumble up to the door. You glance back at him— arms crossed, scowling pout— and forget why you were crying in the first place.

“G’night, Bakugo.” You smile, gently open the door and slink inside.

In the morning you remember. You remember Momo’s hand on Shouto’s knee, the smiles on their faces, the jacket around her shoulders.

It’s entirely too early to be up, but you throw on your running gear and sneak out of the girls' room. There’s a 10k track that Aizawa made you all run yesterday, so you take that.

It’s a cold morning—so cold that you feel it in your lungs— but it doesn’t take long for you to heat up. You could use your quirk, but where’s the normality in that? The track takes you up the mountain, and you breathe in the scenery, stop at the halfway point to overlook the ocean. The sun’s rising against the water, and you can’t hold back a gasp at the sight.

It's gorgeous, and kinda puts into perspective how wide the world is outside of the UUA bubble.

When you get back, almost everyone’s bleary eyed, drinking hot chocolate and coffee and tea around the dying embers of last night’s fire.

Tsuyu calls your nickname. “Come have a hot drink.” She’s sitting next to Momo, who’s sitting with Shouto. Your chest tightens at the sight of them, barely an inch of space between them.

“You really should have woken me!” Iida sighs in disappointment, stealing your attention. He’s between Deku and Ochako, they both wince at the sheer volume of his talking voice so early in the morning. “Putting us all to shame.”

Shouto stands up, heads over to you with an extra mug. “Here,” he holds it out to you. But you’re sweaty, and overwhelmed with the sight of him. His eyes stare into your soul, expression unreadable.

“Thanks, Shou.” You smile, hold up a hand. “I just really need a shower.” You chuckle and turn towards the house. “I’ll be back in a bit!” And jog off.

You think about how it looks, you running away at the campfire, turning down his offer of whatever he was drinking —tea, probably— and running again. All through school you’d been the fire to his ice, but since he’d embraced his fire, he’d stepped away from you; out of your reach completely.

In the house, you gather your clothes, a towel and head towards the communal showers. You really need to stop dwelling on him. His rare smile and handsome face.

The contrast of his hair, his eyes, the strength in his jaw and the way he's filled out with age.

Seriously.

Stop.

Then you do stop. Everyone’s outside, you can use the onsen.

A smile cracks your face. With the bath being the only one on the premises, Aizawa had given the group strict times on when they can and can’t bathe. Girls first, then boys. 7:30-8:00pm and 8:00-8:30pm, respectively.

He didn’t say anything about mornings.

You wash off in the shower, wrap yourself in your towel and head out— shivering— down the pebbled path, to the bamboo encased rock pool, the steam rising high in the cool morning air. Stones and boulders are built up at the far end of the pool, a waterfall flowing from the top.

Just as you’re about to untuck your towel, you hear Bakugo’s rough voice. “Oi! Don’t fucking think about it!” He growls, his head and shoulders emerging from the steam, finger pointing accusingly at you.

You squeal. “Why aren’t you with the group?” And then you’re aware of how much skin you’re showing, cheeks heating in embarrassment.

“I missed out on bathing last night, because of some blubbering idiot.” He growls, but his cheeks are pink, and you don’t miss the way his eyes scan your legs. You feel warmer.

“Right, well,” you take a deep breath. “I missed out, too.” You say boldly, meeting his eyes. His eyebrow quirks when he realises what you mean, but he says nothing. “So, turn around, asshole, or you’re gonna get an eyeful.” You step towards the bath, untuck your towel and hold it in place.

“Wha— you’re fucking wired, you know that?” He hisses, sinks into the steam and turns around. You swiftly drop your towel, step down into the water. It’s hot, almost too hot, but you love it.

“Ah, it’s good.” You moan, leaning against the edge of the pool. You can’t even see Bakugo through the steam.

He says something, but you don’t hear him over the splashing of the waterfall.

“What?” You call, and he says it again. “I can’t hear you.” You mumble, wading closer to him, making sure to keep the water covering your chest.

“I said: you’re going to get us in troub—” he must have been coming closer to you, too, because the sight of you a mere foot away, has him practically shoving his fist in his mouth.

You stare at each other for a long moment, your eyes on his, trying to read what he’s thinking, him maybe doing the same. He looks like he’s thinking, his mind seems to be ticking, but what? How annoying you are? How he managed to get into this situation?

He sighs, turns on his side and sinks to his chin in the murky water. “At least you’re not fucking crying anymore.”

Your eyes narrow. “You say that like I cry a lot. I do not cry a lot. It was the beer.” You huff, splashing him with some water. He blinks but doesn’t retaliate.

“You had one fucking beer.” He sneers, the hint of a grin on his face.

"I don't drink a lot!” You say indignantly.

“And it was a light beer.” Now there’s definitely a smile on his face. It’s contagious, and you can’t really remember a time where he’s smiled at you.

“Alright, asshole, leave me alone. As far as I’m concerned, it never happened.” You huff, swimming over to the edge, overlooking the forest.

In hindsight, you should be more alert about being naked in the onsen with a man. Man. You glance over your shoulder, the steam lessening with the rising of the sun. He’s under the waterfall, hair flat against the back of his head, water rushing down the very defined muscles of his—

You feel the heat grow across your face, frantically whip around towards the sprawling forest the onsen overlooks.

Oh no, he’s really hot.

You need to get out, you need to remove yourself from the situation and get to safety. Being exposed to that is doing something to your heart, something that generally only happens when you’re alone with Shouto.

Yet… you can't help but glance back again. He’s out of the spray of water, shaking droplets out of his hair. He’s waist deep in the steam, chiseled chest, abs— he opens his eyes, looks straight at you.

You turn back around, bury your face in your forearms which are resting on the edge of the pool. Fuck, you’re hot all over.

And he saw you perving.

“I’m getting out, so don’t fucking move.” He warns, and you can only whimper a broken sound and wave a hand up in the air in response.

There’s splashing from behind you, dripping, then his feet crunching away on the pebble path.

You stay there for a few more minutes before you leave, calming yourself down enough to face the rest of your class. You didn’t know who you wanted to avoid more, Shouto or Bakugo.

“First up, is the 10k run.” Aizawa sighs, lazy eyes falling on you. “Considering you already did it, you two can cook breakfast.” Two? No one went with you.

Everyone’s stretching, mumbling about the run, complaining that it’s too early. Then your eyes find Bakugo, who’s standing next to All Might, scribbling in a notepad looking extremely annoyed.

“Ah, professor?” You say softly, approaching Aizawa. He spares you a glance. “I did the 10k by myself.”

“My precious Katsuki woke up even before you and did it. Must have missed him by not even ten minutes.” He mocks your words from the night before, shrugs, yawns.

“Ah, right.” You laugh shakily, looking to your feet and then up to the relatively cloudless sky.

Someone familiar calls your name. “Can I have a word?” You look up and see Shouto a few feet from you, looking a little… stressed? You open your mouth, but Aizawa answers.

“No, you need to go.” He orders. Shouto raises knitted brows. “Did I stutter? Go.” Your mouth is hanging open a little, and you watch as Shouto sends you a look, and jogs off towards the group.

All Might is at the starting line and transforms to call, “Ready, set, GO!” Before abruptly vanishing back into Small Might.

A hand rests on your shoulder. “Is there anything you want to talk about?” Aizawa asks, an eyebrow raised.

“No.” You say too fast. He nods knowingly, removes his hand.

“I’ll take my eggs scrambled. Lots of butter.” He mumbles, walking towards the house. Bakugo’s doing the same, so you follow suit, trotting up the path, up the steps and winding into the kitchen.

Bakugo’s in there alone, staring at his notepad.

“Can you believe our punishment for exercising is cooking for every bastard on site?” He growls, picking up the pad and holding it out to you. It’s a list, each name and how they like their eggs.

“What the hell are ‘cloud eggs’?” You snort, reading Momo’s preference. When you glance up to Bakugo for a response, he’s in the fridge, yanking out milk, cheese, butter, eggs.

“Some fucking asshole likes their whites whipped and then cooked.” He grits out, not even sparing you a glance. Well, at least, he’s not drilling you about perving on him.

“Do you eat the yolk?”

“Yes, idiot.” He sighs, exasperated. “You sit it on the egg white ‘cloud’ and bake it.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“How the hell don’t you?” He hisses back. You sigh, rub the bridge of your nose.

“We probably shouldn’t start on the eggs yet, anyway.” You say, putting the pad down on the bench. “They don’t take long to cook, and the 10k takes around an hour.” He stops to consider your suggestion, picks everything back up and slams the fridge open.

“Won’t even need to start the bacon for another half an hour.” He mutters, placing everything back piece by piece.

“You think Aizawa will be grading this?” You ask, leaning against the kitchen island and folding your arms.

“Doubt it.” He grunts, slamming the fridge door. Then he looks at you, and your heart starts to race. You glance away. “What?” He practically hisses.

“Nothing.” You frown, rolling your eyes.

“If you’ve got something to say, fucking say it.” He mirrors your stance, leaning against the counter across from you.

“I don’t have anything to say, Bakugo.” You growl, annoyed. “Why? Do you have something to say?” He just snarls and glances away from you. “Use your words, Bakugo.” You bait. He sends you a glare then, but his eyes dance down your frame, back up to your face, and to his feet. The small gesture has your heart racing, your body warm.

He clears his throat. “Heard you got a job at Endeavour’s agency lined up for after graduation.” Ah, news had gotten around. “Must be a kick in the guts, huh? Having his dad like you more than he does.”

“Wow, real mature.” You snap, angry. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to talk unless you had something nice to say?”

“No, she taught me not to take shit from anybody.” He grinds out, teeth clenching

“It would have been handy if she’d taught you how to make friends. Y’know, so you wouldn’t have to go through life an angry, bitter, man-child.” You bite back, just as furious.

“I don’t let people disappoint me, what’s so fucking bad about that? At least I didn’t end up a lovesick idiot mourning after a relationship I’ll never have with someone who’ll never notice me.” His words are like ice on a broken tooth, attacking you like an exposed nerve.

It takes you a while to reply, mostly because it’s true.

You take a deep breath and calm yourself. “What does it even matter?” You sigh, tired. “I’m not taking the job at Endeavour’s, so it’s a non-issue.”

“What?” He asks, on the annoyed side of surprised. You look over at him, raise your eyebrows for him to elaborate. “He’s the number one hero in Japan, and you’re not going because his son isn’t in love with you?”

“Okay,” you breathe, slam your hand on the counter, turn away from him. “I don’t have to put up with your fucking attitude. I’ll be back in half an hour to help your sorry ass make breakfast.”

“Like fuck.” He growls, grabbing your arm as you try to walk away. “Take the job, it’s huge.” His eyes are borderline wild, and you stare up at him in shock. “If you don’t take that fucking job, I’m telling Icyhot that you love him.”

“The hell you will!” You hiss, mortified.

“I will.” He drops your arm. “Try me.”

“You’re insufferable!” You holler, throwing your arms in the air. “You tell him, and I’m telling Ochako.” You glare. His nostrils flare.

“I don’t like her like that.” He says warningly, still terrifyingly close.

You grin, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “You’re a liar. Yes you do.”

“No, I. Don’t.” He bites out the three syllables, inching closer to you each time, trying to scare you into submission.

“Oh, sure you don’t.” You sing-song, unaffected by his intimidation.

“Tell her then, I don’t fucking care.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, steps back a step. “You’ve got more to lose than me. Hell, even I’d work for Endeavour.” He steps back a few more times, leans his lower back against the counter.

There’s a long silence; you both simmer down some.

“What are you doing after you graduate?” You ask, a little quieter.

He sighs. “I got a few offers, but I don’t know what I wanna do. Probably go to the States for a bit.” He shrugs, your eyes widen.

“USA? Like, leave the country?” The idea sounds crazy to you, but, if anyone could pull it off, it’d be Bakugo.

“Yeah, I got three offers over there; four in Europe. One in Australia.” He shrugs, like it’s nothing.

“Bakugo, that’s amazing.” You smile, in awe and excited for him. He regards you with an unreadable expression, glances to his feet. “You’ll need to take Kirishima with you,” you snort, he looks back up to you expectantly. “As a buffer? Because you’re an asshole and they’re all gonna think you’re a villain.” You laugh at your own joke, and he frowns, picks up the roll of paper towel on the counter behind him, throws it at you.

You just dodge, still laughing.

“You’re an asshole.” He accuses, but there’s no malice.

“You’ll come back with a yankee wife.” Still laughing. “And she’ll call you Kat-suwkeyyyy.”

“Shut up, I’m not marrying a foreigner.” He rolls his eyes.

“But the only Japanese woman you like is going to—” there are tears in your eyes, you’re carrying on so hard. “Marry your… rival!”

“Shut up!” He yells, leaping towards you and putting a hand over your mouth. You try and pull it away— your chest hurts because you can’t stop laughing— but you’re weaker by a mile.

You grab for his face instead, your hands falling to the collar of his shirt, then— in a moment of madness— you lick a wet stripe up the valleys of his fingers.

He blushes, pulls his hand away. You grin at his response, pull him closer to you.

“What? Can’t handle a little rough play?” You ask, licking your lips, voice husky from laughter. His nostrils flare, eyes take in your face as you do the same, cheshire smile on your lips.

Then he kisses you.

Just lips at first, a hard press of his on yours. You stare at him, but his eyes are closed— still scowling— so you do the same. You dig your nails into his chest, push back against him. He takes a breath and you use initiative, run your tongue along his bottom lip, push your body into his.

You can feel his heart beating under your hands, racing along with yours. Then his tongue is moving against your lips, your own tongue, and his hands are on either side of your jaw, holding you in place.

Just as your insides start to melt, and your knees go weak, there’s a sound: someone’s clearing their throat.

You both open your eyes, stare at each other for a millisecond before he jumps away, and you both turn to stare at the source of the noise.

“I really hope there was none of this when you two went for your ‘walk’ last night.” Aizawa deadpans.

Words escape you. You can’t think; what even just happened? You spare a glance to Bakugo, who is ten shades of embarrassed, and then back to your professor.

“She fucking kissed me!” He hollers, the stinky fucking liar.

You gasp, offended. “You kissed me! You dirty little creep!”

Aizawa glares at the two of you. “You were both into it. I’ve been standing here longer than I care to admit.” A grin twitches at the corner of his mouth. “Where are my eggs?” He frowns, staring at the empty countertop.

You both set to work wordlessly, Aizawa sits on a stool at the island and watches with a lazy grin.

“I’ll do the scramble.” You mumble. “You can poach and make the stupid cloud eggs.” He just grunts in response, no argument. He lays the bacon out on a few trays, puts them all in the oven to bake.

Still, Aizawa sits there, shit-eating grin on his face. Says nothing. Just watches.

“Sir…” You mumble, whisking eggs. His eyebrows raise, eyes fall on you. “You’re not gonna… tell anyone. Right?”

He takes a moment to think about it, then he shrugs.

“Eh, if anything, I support this turn of events.” He grins lazily, you and Bakugo both bristle.

“That… it was nothing. Meant jack shit.” Bakugo glares, prepares the pot for poached eggs.

“Agreed.” You snap, narrowing your eyes at the eggs in your pot. “Move over.” You grumble, lighting the hot plate next to the one Bakugo’s using. He shifts, but there’s no way you’re both going to be able to comfortably cook your eggs at the same time.

Still, you’re both too stubborn to voice the realisation. Aizawa chuckles under his breath, sighs and rises from his stool.

“I’m just going to fetch All Might. Don’t do anything suspicious while I’m gone.” He warns, narrowing his eyes at the pair of you.

When he’s out of the room, you turn your glare to Bakugo. “I can’t believe you kissed me, you perv!” You hiss, trying to keep your voice low. “What the hell were you thinking?” Your face is hot, remembering the kiss, but you keep your stare even.

He glances at you. Says nothing.

“Oh, the silent treatment?” You roll your eyes, stirring the eggs gently, careful they don’t burn.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He grits out, glancing at you. “I… don’t know what the hell came over me.” Guilt eats at you when you meet his eyes. You did kiss him back, and you were enjoying it.

“Me too.” You sigh, turn the heat down on the stove. “I mean, it wasn’t terrible.” You try to joke, make light of the situation, but the words leave your mouth in a totally serious way.

Before you can rectify the situation, both professors return, the two of them pulling up a stool to each watch you awkwardly dance around each other in the kitchen.

They make jokes you half heartedly react to, and then breakfast is cooked, eggs in the metal warmers— too many eggs, really— and bacon in there, too. You put bread out by the toaster, along with butter and spreads.

Just as Bakugo lays the plates out on the table, the first three return. Iida, Midoriya, and Shouto. They’re sweating, gasping for water, and All Might throws each of them a bottle from his cooler.

You glance over to Shouto and find him staring at you. He nods his head towards the door, wants you to go with him out the back, by the onsen.

You take a deep breath and steel yourself, find Bakugo’s eyes for a second, and then follow Shouto. When you step out the door, his jacket is unzipped, hair around his face damp from sweat.

It's quiet, the only sound other than him trying to catch his breath and your thumping heart, is the waterfall flowing steadily into the barely steaming onsen. You briefly wonder how your encounter with Bakugo would have been if you'd joined him around this time.

Then you remember Shouto.

“Bit hot out there, huh?” You try and break the ice, but he doesn’t crack a smile, just stares at you, face flushed red and unreadable.

“You’re upset with me.” He murmurs, jumping straight into it.

“No, I’m not.” You shift your weight from your right foot to your left, clasp your hands together behind your back.

“Don’t lie to me.” He frowns softly, takes a step closer to you. “You asked Bakugo to go for a walk with you, not me.”

You take a half step back. “You were… occupied.” And you try not to sound bitter, you really do, but you fail. Miserably. His eyes widen a fraction, and you realise your mistake. “I’m happy for you, Shouto, I promise, it’s just…” Lie, lie. Lie! “I don’t know how to third wheel, and I didn’t want to make it weird.” You smile shakily, pray he believes your lie.

“Well, you failed in that regard.” He sighs, rubbing the sweat from his forehead with the bottom of his shirt.

“Look, I don’t wanna get in your way, ok? It’ll be weirder for her if I’m sticking to you while she’s putting moves on you.” God, what are you even saying? Whatever trash comes out of your mouth, he buys it, sends you a small smile.

He puts a hand on your shoulder, smiles warmly at you. “Don’t give up on us. You’re my best friend.”

Your heart cracks, but you smile at him, anyway. “No doubt, Shou.”

“Let’s go wait for the others.” He suggests with a tilt of his head, walking past you and back into the house.

“I’ll be a minute.” You call, and he looks back at you from the doorway. “My, uh, sister text me.” You slide your phone out of your pocket, hold it up for him to see. He nods and walks away.

You stand there dumbly for a long minute, stare up at the sun shining brilliantly in the cloudless sky. He doesn’t want to lose your friendship, which is nice, but… fuck, you’re a shitty friend.

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