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aakeysmash · 8 months ago

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Roommate or boss?

part 2, part 3, part 4

Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.

Warnings: none, really. AND THEY WERE POSSIBLE ROOMMATES, MAYBE?

Context: 3k words. Reader is a barista and she only meets Bakugo at the end of this </3. He’s her boss but she doesn’t know. I don’t delve into this tho, just so you know. They’re both 22.

A/N: never thought I’d write a slow burn but I HATE not giving context. This is just me yapping with zero grammar context whatsoever. The reader is super oc in this one, but all the girl names I thought about were UGLY. Let me know what you think about it!

“No.”

“Come onnnn it’s gonna be just this one time” pleads your best friend from the other end of the phone.

“Ochaco, you know I hate when you pull this shit” you reply, while putting your jacket on.

“I knowww, but listen, me and the cute guy have had NO time for ourselves lately and-“

“And you’re leaving me doing this assignment with who knows who? We’re always partners for physics, you know I can’t do it all alone and you can’t phrase your deductions to save your life. We complete each other. You’re my soulmate. Why are you leaving me for a guy?” you whine, while closing the door of your apartment and walking towards your car.

“It’s gonna be just this one time, I promise! It’s not like we’re gonna fail. I think. I hope…” she mumbles.

You sigh. “If we do fail, you’re getting your ass beaten, I am so for real” you concede after thinking about it. You start your car and put your phone on speaker.

“BABEEE I love youuuu! You know you’re the only one for me! I promise to finally tell you all the details on Saturday” she squeals.

You wince. “Nah, I can’t this Saturday. I have to work, manager is on vacay. Maybe Sunday?” you said, knowing she will start rambling.

“Y/N just leave that place, they don’t even value you as a person, let alone as a worker. Plus, your manager is a bitch” Ochaco says sternly. “I still haven’t got over the fact she makes you work double shifts just because she wants to be in Bali with her new stupid tomboy. Who, by the way, cheats on her. You said so yourself, and I heard him and your colleague going at it that one time I came to visit you last week -not Momo, bless her heart, how is she by the way?- oh and he steals her money. And-“

“I need the money, and I do love to make coffees for the nice old ladies that tip me” you interrupt your more-than-protective best friend, knowing that she could go on complaining for hours if you didn’t stop her. “Also, I just got to the cafe and I’m already running late. I’ll text you when I get off, okay? Love you”.

“Yeah yeah. Don’t overwork yourself too much, love you” and you hang up.

You and Ochaco have been friends since you were babies. Your parents were neighbours back in your hometown, and your moms coincidentally got pregnant in a span of 2 months apart from each other. You have been attached to the hip all of your school years, and fortunately you have been accepted at the same campus at university. You moved to different apartments because you wanted to be independent, but you are still living pretty near each other. You are enrolled in literature, while Ochaco has a passion for astronomy; you had chosen physics as a bonus class for some extra credits since Ochaco said it would be easy and you trusted her, but she didn’t take into consideration that you failed math throughout all of high school, and she had to save your ass multiple times in the past. You’ll never forget her face when she got an 86% on one of the graded tests she did for you: she was so disappointed she made you ask the professor to redo the test, which you barely knew the basics of. She got 100%, and the professor congratulated you (her) for being such an overachiever. You never felt more ashamed of yourself and proud of your best friend at the same time. On the other hand, she made you do her English essays on a monthly basis, so she really wasn’t in the place to complain about doing all the dirty work for you.

You had partnered up with her since she was a genius, but she met this “cute guy” a month ago and was head over heels for him. She still hasn’t said his name to you, all you know is that he is a part of the physics course and he apparently just stole your assignment partner.

You sigh inwardly. Sometimes you wished love could come to you as easily as it comes to Ochaco. She is a lover girl at heart, nicer than anybody could ever hope to be, but she sure could bite if she had to. She has been there for some of the worst moments of your life, and you have done the same for her. You really didn’t know what you would do without her. Maybe you should get her an apology pastry from the cafe’s leftovers to make up for the last two missed Saturdays (“they’re for the girls!” she said, and you meticulously met up every week up until you had gotten a job).

You’re a bit distracted by thinking about her when you get into the place you work at. It’s a cute cafe, a little bit too orange for your taste, but it’s cozy enough to make work pleasurable. Plus, it’s 5 minutes from your apartment (15 if you walk, but you are lazy). They pay on time, the coffee is good and the clientele isn’t too bad. If it wasn’t for-

“You’re 32 seconds late. You’re getting a formal complaint this time” says your manager, waiting for you with her arms crossed.

“Put that on the note that says I worked 8 extra hours a week for the last 5 months. Hello to you too, weren’t you supposed to be in the Philippines or whatever by now?” you say sickening sweet, with the fakest smile you can muster, while you pass next to her to get to the room behind the register.

“Shut your smart mouth up before I get you fired!” she almost screams. Some of the people at the table near her look at her like she’s crazy before going back to their cappuccino.

“My oh my miss Utsushimi, it’s not nice to use that tone before the rush hour” you reply, giving an apologetic look at your regulars next to her.

“Mpfh, whatever. Close up this place when you’re done, the boss will probably be in to ask you for the keys at the end of your shift. I’ll be MIA for the next two weeks, bye” she says to you. Then she turns around and smiles sweetly at the clients who previously looked at her with distaste and lies “pregnancy hormones I hope, me and my man are trying for a baby, I’m sorry for scaring you!”. You know damn well she had an IUD appointment last week, because she made you work instead of working herself. Fake bitch.

Without saying anything else, she leaves the place.

“I hate her ass so much”, says someone next to you.

You snicker. “Who doesn’t, Momo?” you face her with a genuine smile.

“Never leave me alone with her ever again, you know I can’t survive this place without you, work wifey” she kisses your cheek fast, before going back to making coffee for a client at the register.

“Ochaco will be hearing about this and she’ll slap you” you laugh heartily.

“I love her too, she’s my work wifey’s wifey, so she’s basically my wifey” she winks at you.

After a few more laughs here and there, you both go back to work like usual.

A couple of hours pass and it’s closing time. Momo waves you goodbye, clocking out. “I’m so tired I could sleep on the floor right now” she whines.

“Yeah, how about no. Let’s go, babe. We don’t want to drag Y/N’s time” says her boyfriend, Shoto, who shoots you a nod of acknowledgement before placing a hand on her lower back and escorting her out of the cafe. “I remember suffering at closing times, let’s leave her be and go home” he nudges your colleague, smiling down at her. He has been inside the cafe a lot in the years you’ve worked here, sometimes picking Momo up. Momo says he was one of the best bartenders the cafe ever had, but he found a job that payed him more and he decided to leave. You couldn’t blame him.

“See you soon, you two lovebirds!” you reply, waving a hand of your own.

Now all alone since even the waiters have gone home, you clean up the counter before packing up the pastry for Ochaco.

“Damn, I have to wait for the boss to give him the keys” you remember, rubbing your face.

You wait 45 minutes before a redhead makes his way into the cafe. He seems busy on the phone with someone.

“I’m here, let me just get- fuck no I don’t wanna talk to Camie about it, Baku- no, wait- fire? Are you going to take her place and finally come down here like the boss you are? Yes, I know- what? And where would we- what do I have to do with all of this? No, I’m going home- fuck, he hung up” the man sighs, before turning his body towards you.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting, not really manly from me” he smiles, looking sorry.

“Oh don’t worry about it!” your smile was really stretched, and you think he notices, because he says “sorry” again. “The manager said to give you the keys. So you’re the boss?” you say politely, stretching your hand with the keys towards him.

You’ve seen him multiple times, he’s a regular. He always gets the same order (one black coffee and one hot chocolate with extra cinnamon), and he always tips you and Momo well. Today he seems distressed.

“I wouldn’t wish to be the boss, to be fair. You could say I’m his right hand. Where’s Camie? Boss needs to talk to her in private before next week comes” he sighs.

“She said she’ll be gone for two weeks” you reply, confused.

“And who said she could do that?” Kirishima, you think that’s his name since you’ve written it on his order just yesterday, looks at you in disbelief. You shrug. “I don’t ask. The less I know about her, the better I feel about working here”. You start to pack your things up, before going towards the door with the man following behind you closely.

“This is nuts. I hate doing job interviews” he mumbles fast, turning the key in the lock. You raise an eyebrow, what is he even talking about?

“Do you live near? If not, I could give you a ride. I’d hate losing the only barista who makes boss man’s drink good enough to not make him pissy” he says, while pointing to his car.

You laugh. “It’s just a hot chocolate. Tell him he should try it with a few drops of hot sauce in it. Sounds disgusting but it’s actually pretty good. Also don’t worry, I live just down the street”. He nods and you wave each other goodbye.

“It does sound horrible. Thanks again for waiting, see you tomorrow for the same exact order I always make” he grins, then gets in his car and drives away, not after seeing you get in your car as well.

Once at home you call Ochaco, who’s “been worried sick, you never get home this late”.

“Y/N you seriously need a roommate. Did you even eat?” she reprimands.

You sigh. “I have to meet someone tomorrow. But you know, girls tend to look at you weirdly when you say you need them to know how to cook. They feel like you’re looking for a maid. Like, I can’t eat sandwiches every day like I did with the last roommate I had” you explain while opening your fridge. Sausages and smashed potatoes from yesterday will do the job for today.

“The psycho who thought vegetables made her look weak? Freak” you hear your best friend snicker. “At what time are they coming over?”

You groan and say “8 am. It’s a guy this time. Who wakes up before 8 am at uni? He’s already lost 2 points for this” while gulping down your food.

Ochaco’s snicker is now a full laugh. “People who have their lives together, maybe? But pay attention, males scare me” she replies quieting down.

“Yeah yeah. I’m gonna sleep now, text me the deets for Sunday, okay?” you clean your plate and go to the bathroom to wash your teeth.

“Will doooo. Good night, babe” she smooches on the mic before hanging up.

After making sure you locked your apartment door, you go to your bed, where you manage to fall asleep in thirty seconds.

The next morning you’re brutally awakened by the sound of your doorbell. You look at your phone screen: 7:42 am.

“Who the fuck is it now?” you grumble, before going down the stairs and looking through your peephole.

“Shitty hair I swear if this takes me more than 10 minutes… she hasn’t even opened the door. Yeah, she said 8 am, who cares if I’m early? I AM NOT the only one awake on a Saturday morning. Y’all are just lazy fucks” a blonde rudely says into his phone. You can hear him talking loudly from behind the door. You widen your eyes, before screaming ��coming! Give me 5 minutes!” and rushing towards your bathroom to make yourself presentable. “Fuck, I forgot about the roommate appointment” you whine, while putting on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. At least they are clean.

You open the door to find a broad man staring at you menacingly. He’s kinda tall, kinda (really) fit, kinda underdressed for the winter. Kinda hot, too.

“Hi, how can I help you?” you offer him the nicest smile your still sleepy mind can muster.

He looks you up and down, before focusing on your face and levelling you with an indifferent look.

“You must be Y/N. I’m Katsuki Bakugo, we had to meet at 8 am for the spare room offer. I've been here for 15 minutes” he gruffly declares.

You add “rude” to your list of “kinda”. You don’t like his tone. -1 point.

“Yeah, and it’s 7:48” you bite back, your smile faltering while shaking his outstretched hand. He’s definitely going to the gym with the callouses he has.

“Come in, I’ll let you see what you’re getting yourself into”, you say, opening your door more.

You live in a nice apartment, you think. There’s a nice kitchen with a nice island that also serves as a table in front of it, a blueish couch in front of the tv, and a couple of steps that bring you to a corridor with three doors: your room, the spare one and the bathroom.

You describe everything while he stays in absolute silence next to you. It makes you feel uneasy. -1 point.

You just finished showing him the bathroom and are ready to tell him you don’t think he’s a good suitor when he finally speaks up.

“And how much do you pay for this shit?” he asks. Nice voice, you think. Gravelly and rough enough to not sound annoyingly forced. +1 point.

“500 a month” you reply, while returning to the kitchen.

“Your shower needs some work done, it leaks. Also, mold is starting to show on the bathroom ceiling, might wanna check on that. Your oven looks unusable in the condition it’s in. Small tv. At least you’re clean from what I've seen” he begins to say.

You frown and turn to look at him. Did this bitch talk for the first time in 15 minutes only to complain?

“Do you even know how to cook with said oven?” you say, ignoring everything else he just said, and giving him a nasty look.

He tsks. “Yes. Is this your way of asking me to cook you fucking breakfast? I don’t eat with lazy people who get out of bed at 11 am” he makes sure to say.

You scoff. Men really do find the audacity to say stuff like this nowadays? It seems like you've been out of the loop for too much.

“You showed up early. It’s a sign of disrespect, you know? Also no, I know how to fix myself something. I just don’t want you to burn my kitchen down to a crisp and smell takeout whenever I get home” you say in the rudest way you find possible.

He smirks before saying “might wanna check on that fucking attitude of yours too before I poison your food”, tapping your shoulder to get you out of the way and take out some pans. You showed him where to find them earlier on.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you say in disbelief. “This is still my kitchen. Get out”.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m making you fucking breakfast to say sorry for interrupting your princess sleep. Just make coffee while I come up with something. If you know how to make it, that is” he doesn’t even look at you while getting eggs, milk and bread out of the fridge.

You’re baffled. He’s making himself at home when you didn’t even say he was accepted.

“Wait, you’re still not-“

“I'll give you the money at the start of every month. I’ll paint the walls of the room, I hate that fucking green, but painters are scammers so I’m doing it myself. I’m clean, I’ll just need a spare key in a matter of days to take my shit here. I’ll keep myself in my room if you keep yourself in yours. Any further requests?” he interrupts you, assembling his french toasts on the pan.

You’re even more stunned. But you’ve always been quick with your thoughts, so you come up with something.

“I’ll say yes if those french toasts are good. If they’re not, your ass is out” you say, still not looking at him, while making coffee.

“Might say yes if you know how to make a hot chocolate from scratch instead of the poor coffee that machine will make” he watches you from the corner of his eye. You scoff, you’re a barista nonetheless: who does he think he’s talking to? Meanwhile, he could swear he knew you from somewhere.

“Deal”.

Neither to say, the french toasts were “not that bad” and your hot chocolate was “barely fucking acceptable”.

#bakugo katuski #bakugou katsuki #bnha #barista au #bakugo fluff #i guess #how do you tag #bakugou x you #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #and they were roommates #bakugo knows how to cook in this one

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