#latpoykb

[sipsteainanxiety]

loving you [4] || katsuki b.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 2.8k+

mentions: still no pronouns mentioned i blv, wow i say that a lot huh, fluff, kinda sloppy sorry

part three

Sometimes the Ground Zero agency got extremely busy. 

It wasn’t the kind of busy where everyone was running around, organizing something in the wake of a particularly rough villain attack. No, it was the kind of busy that only occurred when other pro-heroes were visiting—be it for business, or to just annoy the shit out of Dynamight. Which, you found out, happened more often than not.

You were introduced to Pinky, Chargebolt, and Cellophane pretty soon after getting hired for the support department of the agency. They were loud and energetic as hell, especially when put together. They caused chaos in the agency no matter what the time was, always messing around or poking fun at Dynamight. Of course, they had their serious moments—they knew the difference between times where they could be lackadaisical and times where they had to be in constant hero mode. But, in any case, it was always a delight to talk to them and see what they were up to. They were fun, simply put.

Besides, it was always amusing to see them rile up Dynamight—even if you knew he wasn’t all that irked by their presence at all. He’d have banned them from setting foot in his co-owned agency if that was the case, though you doubted that would have stopped them.

You found out, early on, that they sometimes liked to drop by the agency on Friday evenings with plans to head over to a restaurant for drinks and catching up. It was their biweekly meet up that they’d apparently been doing since graduating from U.A. Pinky always liked to extend the invite to you whenever she managed to catch you around the agency, but almost every time you felt a bit strange intruding on their friend time—even if they were really nice and accommodating. 

Today was no exception. Pinky had managed to find you squatting in one of the break rooms and was particularly insistent on getting you to join.  

“Oh come on!!!” she pleaded with you, one of her perfectly manicured hands gripping onto your arm tightly—but not tight enough to hurt. “It’s always fun when you join!! Please!!” 

“I… I don’t know, Pinky…” You grimaced slightly, then had to do your best to not get jostled all over the place as she shook you back and forth. 

“I told you to call me Ashido!!! We’ve known each other for like, two years!!” She frowned at you in a nonthreatening manner that made you give her a sheepish smile. 

“Sorry, force of habit.” It was hard calling them by their real names when all you’d known were their hero personas before getting hired. 

Ashido puffed her cheeks out at you then released your arm so she could put her hands on her hips and give you a calculating look. “No topic changes!! I know what you’re doing!! You’re gonna join us whether you like it or not!”

“Ashido,” you started, “I really do have a lot of work—”

“Yo, are y’all coming or what? The others are waiting downstairs.” 

Both you and Ashido turned your heads towards the entrance of the break room to see Chargebolt and Cellophane lingering in the doorway. They were giving the two of you expectant looks. Ashido pointed her hand at you and said your name loudly, followed by “keeps saying no!!” 

“Whaaat?!” Chargebolt looked at you with raised eyebrows atop wide eyes. “C’mon!! Why not? You’re always invited, you know.” 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go. It was just… well… you knew Dynamight was going to be there and you weren’t sure you could be in the same space as him for a long period of time without conflagrating on sight. Especially with what had happened in his office a few days ago. You just… couldn’t stop thinking about him, and you were sure it would get worse if you went with them to their little restaurant. You had a job to do, damnit! And that wasn’t to pine after your boss all day! 

Maybe they’d seen some of your thoughts on your face—or at least garnered that part of you wanted to go, but something was holding you back—for they all exchanged glances then turned to look at you in a way that made you involuntarily take a step back. You knew those expressions—they were planning something. 

“Commence operation ‘grab-n-go’!” Chargebolt suddenly announced, a mischievous look spreading across his face. 

“Operation—?” You barely had time to widen your eyes before Cellophane lifted his elbow in your direction and shot a strand of tape at you. A yelp escaped your lips when Ashido caught the end and started rapidly wrapping it around your torso, trapping your arms at your sides. You were so flabbergasted that all you could do was stand there and dart your eyes between them. “What are you guys—?!!!”

“Done!!” Ashido interrupted you, and before you could process that they’d trapped you in tape, you felt yourself get picked up and slung over a shoulder. You let out an oof, still caught up with what the hell had happened before. 

“Let’s roll out!” Chargebolt announced from beneath you—when the hell had he gotten so close?!—before he jogged out of the break room, one of his hands wrapped around your waist while the other patted the back of your thigh. “Quick!! Before the shock wears off!!”

“Put me down!!” you muffled out as much as you could with your face pressed against his back. You could hear the ding of the elevator as they all crowded inside to head to the ground floor. “Please!!”

“No!!”

“This is for your own good,” Ashido said from somewhere to your right as she followed after Chargebolt once the elevator doors reopened. 

“Also, it’s hilarious,” Cellophane added from the front. You let out a huff, your face heating up slightly. You really, really didn’t want anyone else to see you like this. Especially not—you swallowed heavily—especially not Dynamight.

“This is so humiliatinggg,” you groaned, trying not to move too much for fear of slipping off Chargebolt’s shoulder—though you knew he would catch you. His grip around your waist was practically iron-tight. 

“You should’ve just agreed, then.” Ashido clicked her tongue at you as you all stepped outside. The air was cool against your exposed skin. You didn’t even have time to grab your things before you all left. Great. You kept your gaze trained on the cement ground beneath you as Chargebolt called out Kirishima’s name and jogged in some direction. 

“What the— What’d you guys do??” You heard Kirishima say, sounding confused.  

“I’m being kidnapped,” you said, kicking your legs slightly. “Help.”

“Oi,” a familiar voice growled out closer than you’d expected, “Dunceface, let go. Now.” Wait no, but then he’d see how red your face was—

“Yeesh, okay okay, no need to glare at me like that, Blasty,” Chargebolt replied as he leaned forward and set you on the ground. You frowned at him as he stepped back, his hands raised, and gave you a cheeky grin. 

“I’m never hanging with you again.” You sniffed, then turned around abruptly. You nearly flinched back when you saw Dynamight behind you. He scoffed and reached out a blazing hand to rip off the tape from your body. You took a step back once he’d unraveled it all and bunched it into a small ball to throw at Cellophane’s head. “...Thanks,” you told him, rubbing at your arms. You glanced up at him to see him frowning slightly. It was kind of cute. He only grunted and looked away. Great.

“Alright!” Ashido cheered, linking one of her arms with you to start leading the way. “Let’s go!! We haven’t got all night!!”

And so, you somehow found yourself crammed into a private booth of a quaint restaurant in Musutafu, sandwiched between Cellophane and Ashido. Kirishima was directly in front of you, Dynamight to his left and Chargebolt on his right. 

It was nice, honestly, being able to get a few drinks and eat some really nice Thai food. As the evening wore on, you relaxed more and more, doing your best not to focus all your attention on Dynamight. But well, it was hard. He was quiet—a satisfied kind of quiet, you thought—interjecting on occasion between his friends’ stories. Your gaze tended to drift to him when he wasn’t looking, focusing—for some reason—on the pink of his lips. 

“And— Holy shit, I can’t believe this had happened, but—” Kaminari choked out (you’d already gotten chastised by him and Sero when you used their hero names after you’d all sat down) as he slammed his glass onto the table. “But one time— One time Bakugou made this— this villain piss his pants just by looking at him!”

“Oh yeah!!” Kirishima grinned. “I remember that!! It was clearly baby’s-first-villain-moment too!”

“What look?” you asked curiously, forcing yourself to look away from Dynamight for a moment so you could look at Kaminari.  

“You know, the look,” he enunciated, leaning forward so he could at Dynamight. “Bakugou! Do the look!” 

“No,” was the blunt reply. You looked at the ash-blond to see him scowling a bit. 

“Oh c’mon bro!” Kirishima slapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You do it all the time! Can’t hurt!” He got a tongue click in return. 

“Yeah, don’t tell me you’re wussing out?” Sero smiled slyly, raising an eyebrow.

That certainly was effective, you mused to yourself as you saw the glare Dynamight shot towards his friend. His jaw tensed. “The hell I am,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. 

“Then do it!” Ashido leaned towards him, smiling eagerly. 

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” you wondered aloud. You rubbed your fingers idly on the rim of your glass of water. 

“Oh, honey, if you’re a villain, it’s bad,” Ashido told you before she turned back to Dynamight and snapped her fingers at him quickly. “Do it!!”

He scowled deeper, and you could have sworn he glanced at you for a split second before he spat, “Fine, fuckers.”

And with that, Dynamight let loose one of the scariest smiles you’d ever seen in your entire fucking life. 

It was wide, his white teeth bared enough to show the sharp points of his canines. His eyes were crazed, almost, as though the pure insanity of his smile was enough to affect them. You almost wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. Despite his expression, you still thought he was pretty. You were so screwed.

Even if it was scary, it was also confident. Strong. It did chill you to your bone, no doubt about it, but it was also reassuring, in a way, to know that he was on the side of good. 

Oh, that’s what they were talking about, you thought as the other heroes around you exploded into laughter at Dynamight’s expression. Nearly all the pictures online of Dynamight in battle had him with that horrifying smile that promised death. He was quick to wipe it into a deep scowl, but it was practically ingrained in your memory. 

“That’s it!!” Kaminari cry-laughed, slamming his fist on the table before him. “That’s the one!!”

“Shut up!” Dynamight hissed out when his friends just kept laughing. “A true hero fuckin’ saves people with a smile!”

For some reason, that stuck with you. And it made you think about all the times you’d seen Dynamight on the news or in articles. He was always smiling in battle. Whether that was to reassure the people he would save or threaten the villains, you didn’t know. But he really did choose to smile instead of using his signature scowl. 

It was admirable, you thought to yourself as you watched Dynamight’s scowl turn into a pout as his friends’ laughter started dying down. You had to force yourself to look away and take a drink of your water in the hopes that the others wouldn’t see how flushed your face was. 

Eventually, it was time to leave. You all stood outside the restaurant for a bit, idly chatting and saying goodbyes. 

“I needa head back to the agency to grab my things,” you said as you rubbed your hands against your arms. It had gotten significantly cooler by now and you could feel the goosebumps forming. “Since some people didn’t let me grab them before they kidnapped me.” They at least had the decency to look sheepish. 

“Oh!” Kirishima perked up and looked at you. ”Bakugou’s also got some stuff to do at the agency, right bro?”

Dynamight grunted, making you snap your head towards him. His eyes were narrowed slightly at his friend, who only smiled widely. “Needa grab some shit.” 

“Perfect!” Ashido grinned in a way that made you squint your eyes at her in suspicion. She reached out to grab the arms of Kaminari and Sero and started tugging them in the opposite direction. “Well! See y’all later! Night night!!”

“Later.” Sero threw up a peace sign and allowed Ashido to drag him away as Kaminari gave you a cheeky thumbs up. What the hell was that about? You returned Kirishima’s goodbye wave a bit hesitantly as he smiled and jogged after his friends. 

“Let’s go.” Dynamight nudged your arm and started walking in the direction of the agency. You looked at him and nodded, doing a little half-jog to catch up to his longer strides. He glanced at you as you walked side-by-side, then let out a small huff and slipped off the green cargo jacket he was wearing. “Here.” 

“Oh you really don’t have—“ you started, staring at him with wide eyes, only to hear him scoff loudly. 

“Jus’ take the damn thing before y’freeze your ass off,” he grumbled, shaking his jacket purposely at you. A huff left your lips, but you’d be a fool to decline. You took it gently from him and slipped your arms through the significantly larger sleeves. It was warm and smelled faintly of burnt caramel. You cozied yourself deeper into it and tried not to feel too giddy. 

“Thanks,” you told him, offering him a smile. He let out a hum and looked away to focus on the streets before him. Your gaze lingered on his pout, the way his lower lip stuck out, before you internally scolded yourself for staring and turned your head. 

It was quiet as the two of you walked back, though you found that you didn’t mind the silence. It was comforting. There was just something about walking with him that made you feel safe, even at this late hour. You breathed in the cool air of night deeply, then exhaled slowly, feeling yourself relax. You wished you had more moments like this—with him. Though, you’d likely never admit it out loud. 

You both soon made it back to the agency in record time and made your way down to the support lab. There were a few employees still walking around, but they didn’t bother you. 

“Don’t you have your own things to grab?” you asked as you scanned yourself in and beelined for the bench you kept your bag on. You opened it and started checking to make sure everything you had was in it—in case you accidentally left things lying around the lab, which tended to happen more often than not. 

Dynamight just made a noncommittal noise, lingering somewhere behind you. He could’ve left you and gone up to his office, but he didn’t. You spotted your own jacket haphazardly tossed on the back of a chair and headed towards it. “There it is! Here, you can have this back,” you said as you slipped out of Dynamight’s jacket and turned to give it to him. 

Only, he was much closer to you than you had expected. You jumped slightly, your nose nearly brushing against his chest as you stepped back and looked up at him, your breath caught in your throat. He was staring right at you, a furrow to his neat, pale brows that made your heart stutter. You swallowed thickly. 

“Dyna—“ you started quietly, only to cut yourself off when he let out an irate huff. His top lip curled over his teeth in displeasure. 

“Katsuki,” he bluntly stated, then his voice softened as he leaned his head down closer towards you, crowding into your space. “Call me Katsuki.” 

You exhaled gently, your eyes fluttering shut as you tilted your head up enough that your nose brushed against his and his hair tickled at your forehead. “Okay,” you breathed, “Katsuki.” 

He kissed you like you were the only thing that mattered, stealing the air straight from your lungs in a single motion that made you feel lightheaded. His lips, now that they were pressed incessantly against yours, were soft—slightly chapped, but still soft and gentle. He was delicate at first, tentatively testing the waters. But when you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck, he got bolder, tugging you close to him by your waist. You let out a pleased hum that he returned, his head tilting as one of his hands came up to cradle the back of your neck. Pleased, longing, careful.

And you stayed there for what felt like hours, drowning yourself in the taste of his lips. 

[sipsteainanxiety]

loving you [1] || katsuki b.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 1.5k+

mentions: first part - see masterlist for more information & other chapters when they’re released, no pronouns mentioned i think, pro hero au, fluff, uses baku’s hero name so spoilers for tht

series masterlist   part two

One of the greatest mysteries on this Earth, in your opinion, was how Dynamight got his hair to look spiky so naturally.  

You’d noticed on the very first day you saw him, stomping around the Ground Zero agency in his hero suit with hair puffed up like a dandelion. It was reminiscent of one of his explosions, you came to realize, after some time just staring at it. The ends were sharp, poking around his head and a bit over his eyes, framing his face in a way that made him look unfairly attractive. But that was besides the point. 

At first, you figured he just used an absurd amount of gel to get it to look like that. It made sense, to you, since there was simply no way he wasn’t using some sort of hair product to get it to poof up all over the place. But then, well, you met Red Riot, and it was so blatantly obvious the redhead was using gel to get his hair to stick up straight that you realized Dynamight just couldn’t have been using it at all. You made the comparisons whenever they were side-by-side—which was more often than not, seeing that they ran the agency—and the way Riot’s hair gleamed ever so slightly in the lighting whilst Dynamight’s did not told you what you wanted to know. 

But this just brought you back to square one, and you often found yourself wondering if his hair felt like how it looked or not. 

Of course, you kept your inner musings to yourself. You didn’t think Dynamight would be amused if he learned you thought about his hair at least once a day. If anything, he’d probably call you a weirdo, and you didn’t really want to fall victim to the way he would oh-so lovingly slap nicknames onto the people he talked to.

Your chance to finally answer your long-pondered question arose one day as you were tinkering with some gadgets down in the support lab of the agency. You were trying to improve the permeability of Dynamight’s gloves, to allow him to channel his sweat faster and easier in his palms. Just as you started fiddling with some of the different pieces of porous cloth you had access to, a BANG! came from somewhere behind you, heavy clunks of footsteps following right after.

You rolled your eyes slightly, turning around from your workbench as you opened your mouth to chastise the pro-hero you knew had entered. “You know, you really have to stop opening d—” 

You paused.

You knew being a pro-hero wasn’t easy. You knew it was strenuous, both on mind and body. There were always people to save, always cases to report, always damages to account for. It was a never-ending loop of fight, save, win, report, fight, save, win, report. You knew Dynamight could handle himself better than others—if not more. But, well, there were still times where he could be caught off guard. 

Which made you wonder what the hell had happened to him to make him be absolutely smothered in dust.

You bit your lip when he glowered at you, as though daring you to mention the bits of concrete that were still resting on his shoulders and in his hair. His skin was parchment white like he’d had a bad run-in with a makeup artist. Dust was layered onto his hero suit so much that it made him look like a washed-up version of Casper the Angry Ghost. Even his hair was a stark white instead of its usual ash-blond. Your lips curled slightly. “Rough day?” you asked in a slightly strained voice. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he growled at you, dust wheezing out into the air with his breath. You waved it away with a loose hand. He then glared down at the slim gauntlets attached to his forearms and you followed his gaze with raised eyebrows. They looked busted and you sighed, knowing you would have to fix them for the third time this week. 

“Aw man, what happened?” You frowned as you stepped closer to him to start gingerly unclasping the gauntlet on his right arm. The metal was still warm. You worked quickly until it dropped from his arm into your own hands, then inspected it carefully. There was dust coating it everywhere—even in the smallest crevices that were meant for his sweat. It was going to take ages to clean it all out, even with the special cleaning solvent you used for the metal.

“Villain,” he grunted shortly as he shifted slightly on his feet. Dust rained down from his torso, coating more of the white-tiled floor. “Crashed through a building.” 

“And you didn’t think to go take a shower before coming here?” you scolded him, making a show out of looking at the trail of dust and concrete from behind him. He grunted again, then pointedly looked down at his gauntlets. You rolled your eyes, setting down the right one onto your workbench before you peered up at his face. Though his eyes were still covered by his ripped black mask, there was dust coating his eyelashes and you snorted a little as he squinted down at you grumpily.

“I hope you plan to clean this up yourself,” you told him amusedly as your hand reached up to pat away some of the debris from his shoulders. He muttered “’S'what the sidekicks‘re for” under his breath as he watched you tidy up his clothes as much as you could. All the specks of rubble crumbled away onto the floor easily and you scrunched your nose slightly as the particles raised in the air tickled your nose. You then tilted your head back a bit so you could tiptoe and reach up to brush away whatever had settled into his hair. 

The first thing you noticed, with a bit of astonishment, was how fucking soft his hair actually was. It was like threading your fingers through finely spun silk, the strands easily slipping by like velvety water as you ran a hand through it to flick away the dust. There were clouds of particles poofing into the air with every motion your hand made. It was so unexpected, you thought, that brash and loud Dynamight had hair so smooth. You found amusement in thinking about him using special hair products to maintain it. To you, it was so unlike him. So juxtaposed against his harsh angles and rough voice. And yet… somehow it just made sense. 

You made quick work out of cleaning him up before you pulled your hands back—albeit a bit reluctantly—and tilted your head this way and that around him to make sure you got most of the larger pieces of debris. With a short nod to yourself, you told him, “Well, I got most of it, but you definitely need a hose down.” You glanced down at your hands for a moment—they were covered in dust. You grimaced at them, then looked up again to see Dynamight watching you carefully, an unreadable look in his eyes. You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling yourself flush a tad. 

Idiot! you internally scolded yourself as you wrenched your gaze away from his and started unclasping the remaining gauntlet from his arm. You could feel him still staring down at you and the back of your neck burned with embarrassment. He’s definitely gonna think you’re weird now for feeling up his hair like that! 

And yet, part of you was still satiated at the fact that you finally managed to solve one of the mysteries you’d been thinking of for a while now. You hoped he never found out you liked how his hair felt—you’d never live it down.

Once you managed to take his gauntlet off, you wasted no time in plunking it down on your table, already frowning at the burnt and dented metal. You made a move as though to rub your chin, then thought better of it and instead turned back around to look at Dynamight. He was glaring down at his dusty gloves. Right. Maybe a more porous material for them wouldn’t be a good idea if he was going to be thrown through buildings a lot. 

“Well, it’ll take me a bit to get these fixed, but I’ll have them back to you in no time,” you told him as you awkwardly held your hands at your sides, not wanting to mess up your clothes even further. “You should probably go clean up.” 

For a moment, it looked like he wanted to say something. The muscles in his jaw twitched as he looked at you for what felt like a millennia. You could feel yourself growing antsy, wondering if he was going to yell at you or something for touching him. But he eventually gave you a short nod, turning abruptly on his heel as he stomped his way out of the lab, the door left wide open in the path of his (dusty) storm.

You took a second to stare out the doorway he’d disappeared beyond, then glanced down at your hands. You flexed your fingers, watching some of the white powder on them drizzle to the ground. If you thought about it long enough, you could still feel the way his hair glided gently across your palms. 

You sighed, a small thing that seemed infinitesimally louder in the empty room of the lab. 

You wondered if you would ever get another chance to touch him like that again.

[sipsteainanxiety]

loving all the parts of you masterlist

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader (ongoing)

mentions: will try to keep it gender neutral, pro hero au, second person, spoilers for baku’s hero name, just a bunch of fluffy fluff, beware of cavities

summary: in which you learn to love all the prickly parts that make up bakugou katsuki

can also be found on ao3 and quotev

part i.  

part ii.  

part iii.  

part iv.  

part v.  (coming soon!)

part vi.

part vii.

part viii.

part ix.

part x.

[sipsteainanxiety]

loving you [3] || katsuki b.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 2.3k+

mentions: no pronouns mentioned again i think, bit of cuts n blood in this one

part two   part four

You learned that Kirishima liked to read hero tabloids. It was by complete accident that you found out, having stumbled upon him reading one when you went up to his office to ask him for input on a few designs you had for Riot wrist guards. His office was set up in a way that made it super easy to see what he was doing at his desk. He was embarrassed, fumbling with the small booklet as he tried his best to hide it from you, but you saw everything. And you were merciless.

“I didn’t think you kept up with shit like that,” you teased him with a sly smile, walking over to his desk as he sighed and reluctantly brought the tabloid away from behind his back. You went around to stand behind him in his chair, peering over his shoulder at the edition of Pros+ he had with him. The smiling face of Deku greeted you from the front cover, the latest news and gossip about him written on the sidelines. Pro-hero Deku to win award for most saves done in five minutes! From U.A. to Musutafu, how Deku became the most powerful hero yet! Japan’s most eager hero of them all! Freckles: Are they in or are they in?! “Looks like Deku’s doing well.”

“Yeah! He is! I’m super proud of him!” Kirishima told you with a large smile, flipping through the rest of the tabloid so you could both see the different articles about rescue missions Deku’s done within the past year. It was a wonder how it wasn’t as thick as an encyclopedia. His smile turned sheepish as he looked up at you, gazing at you with imploring eyes. “Don’t tell anyone I read this stuff! I just like keeping up with everyone, making sure the media’s not taking the piss out of them. If Bakugou found out he’d probably yell at me for reading ‘Shitty garbage written by shitty people’.” He used his fingers to quote that last bit, doing his best impression of Dynamight. You held back a chuckle.

You mimed zipping your lips shut and throwing away the key. “Hey my lips are sealed man, you can count on me.” He gave you a grateful look and you were once again reminded of the way he was crowned ‘Japan’s sweetest hero’.

From then on, it became a habit for the two of you to whisper and gush over every edition of Pros+ that landed in Kirishima’s hands. You typically did it within the confines of his office, blinds and doors closed to repress any snooping eyes and ears. It was a bit of a guilty pleasure, getting excited over all the accomplishments these top heroes had done and seeing what all their fans were raving about when they weren’t obsessing over various hero victories.

You’d both managed to ooh and aah over editions that focused not only on Deku but Pinky, Galeforce, Lemillion, and Shouto as well. Knowing some of them personally, it was a bit funny to see what the editors of the tabloid were attempting to pull together when it came to gossip—especially when pictures were involved. Kirishima found it just as funny, nearly bursting into tears at one point when the absolutely outlandish question of Does Chargebolt is gay? greeted both your eyes following a picture taken of him and Mindjack at a bar one night. Some people just had too much time on their hands, it seemed.

It was all fun and games for the two of you until Kirishima managed to get his sticky fingers on a Dynamight edition.

“Shut the door, shut the door!” he hissed quickly at you when you’d gone to visit him for your almost daily reading sessions. You looked at him with wide eyes as you closed the door gently behind you, watching as he beckoned you quickly over to his desk. “You wouldn’t believe what I’ve got.”

“What? What is it?” you asked warily as you walked over, eyes searching for the tabloid until you realized he was holding it within his hands, purposely hiding the cover from you. You squinted at him as he made a weird expression you couldn’t for the life of you decipher. Then he showed you the front. You choked. “No fucking way.”

“Yes way!” He finally burst out in laughter and you fully leaned over his shoulder to stare open-mouthedly at the glaring face of Dynamight on the cover of Pros+. Your eyes scanned the headlines that surrounded him. Pro-hero Dynamight named hottest hero of Japan! Skincare routine or no-care routine, how does he do it?! Symbol of Victory or Symbol of Mystery? You decide!

You clamped a hand over your mouth, your wide eyes turning to make contact with Kirishima’s watering ones. When you spoke, your voice was slightly muffled. “Oh my fucking god.”

He started wheezing out some more laughter. “I hope Bakugou doesn’t see this,” he choked out, managing to pull himself together enough to start flipping through the tabloid. Articles of Dynamight’s rescues, his rising popularity, and his no-nonsense attitude waved at you from the pages. Your eyes landed on some pictures of him they’d likely stolen from the Vogue: Heroes Edition shooting he’d done a while ago. It was a fucking thirst tabloid in disguise. “He’d probably burn it on sight.”

You huddled closer to Kirishima, pressed shoulder to shoulder as your eyes darted over all the content displayed for you both to see. The writers must’ve been fans of Dynamight, for they showered him with praise in most of the articles and fawned over his good looks and mysterious persona in others. You and Kirishima read through one of the articles that questioned what skincare products he used.

“God clearly plays favorites,” you suddenly spoke up, eyeing the close-up pictures of Dynamight’s scowling face. There wasn’t a single blemish in sight and the caption beneath it said that the photo hadn’t been edited at all. “His skin is so smooth-looking.”

Kirishima sighed, setting the tabloid down on his desk. “He’s been blessed with good skin for pretty much ever,” he told you, idly scratching at his cheek. “It’s because of his quirk. Glycerin’s really good for your skin, apparently.”

“I’ve heard about that,” you said, looking down once more at the tabloid to see Dynamight glaring up at you from the cover once more. It really wasn’t fair, you thought, that he had the looks to match with the smarts and the athletic prowess he had. He was probably at least self-aware of how hot he was, right? “Of course Dyna—”

“Shh!” Kirishima suddenly sat up straight in his chair, eyes looking at his closed office door. You paused, giving him a confused look, then turned to see what he was so alert about. Your eyes just managed to catch a glimpse of a shadow that passed over the closed blinds of the window leading out to the hallway before the door was slammed open.

You jerked forward, practically throwing yourself on top of Kirishima’s desk to hide the Dynamight edition of Pros+ from sight. You propped your hand under your head, giving a sheepish smile to the very real figure of Dynamight that glowered at you from Kirishima’s doorway. He eyed you for a moment from behind his ripped mask, then looked at Kirishima himself, who was spinning around in his chair, nonchalantly whistling.

“...The fuck?” was his only comment, his gaze hardening the longer he stared at the two of you trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible.

“Hi!” you greeted cheerfully, hoping he couldn’t see the drops of sweat on the side of your face as you prayed your torso was hiding the tabloid from view. You gave his form a once over, a frown slowly sliding onto your face as your eyes landed on the large cut that was leaking blood on his right cheek. You straightened up slightly. “Are you okay? What happened?”

He ignored you. Rude. “Shitty Hair. Your patrol was supposed to start five minutes ago.”

The redhead stopped whistling, his head snapping to glance at the time on his phone before he shot out of his chair. “Crap! On it, my bad! Lost track of time!” He grabbed a few things from his desk, leaning down to whisper “Burn it” into your ear. Then he was out the door, giving Dynamight a pat on the shoulder and bounding his way down to the first floor of the agency.

It was just you and Dynamight now. He was watching you with a look you couldn’t quite place and for a moment you wondered if he was going to question why you were still sprawled on Kirishima’s desk like a French model. But then he huffed, rolling his eyes and stalking his way out, likely to his own office.

You slumped over, your head hanging as you let out a relieved sigh. Standing up, you straightened your clothes and glanced once more at the tabloid. Paper Dynamight glared back at you disapprovingly.

“Fuck you,” you told it with a grimace, snatching it off the desk so you could chuck it in Kirishima’s trash can. This had been too much of a close call. Maybe you and Kirishima should stop reading tabloids so often. Brushing off your hands, you made your way out of the room, closing the door softly behind you before your eyes caught sight of Dynamight’s slightly open office door. You paused for a moment, thinking about the injuries he had on his face. Fuck it. You crept your way over to his door, pushing it open gently so you could stick your head in.

Dynamight’s office was one of the few rooms in the agency you kind of liked. He never had to put the lights on, since the entire left wall of the room was made of glass, allowing natural light to filter in. It gave him the ability to see Musutafu in its near entirety—something you were certain a hero appreciated. He had a lot of bookshelves, novels neatly stacked and ordered in a way only he was privy to. There was a couch and coffee table tucked in the back right corner across from a flat screen television on the backmost wall. There was a singular All Might poster next to it, something that made you smile, just a little, every time you saw it.

Your eyes landed on Dynamight, grumbling as he sat at his desk with a medkit opened in front of him. He glanced up at you when you peered around the door at him, then returned to rummaging around in the kit.

You took that as an invitation to enter, gently closing the door behind you as you walked over to him and stopped right next to his chair. “Villain toss you through a building again?” You were trying to lighten the air a bit.

He huffed, eyes focused on opening a bottle of disinfectant. “He prob’ly wished he had. Fucker had a blade Quirk.” It was then you noticed he had quite a lot of tiny cuts and scratches along his face, neck, and arms. Most were bandaged, but he did have the nasty ones on his cheek still exposed to the air. You watched as he soaked a cotton ball with the disinfectant, then paused as he realized he didn’t have a mirror to see where he was applying it on his face.

You sighed, shuffling closer to him so you could pluck the little ball from his fingers. “C’mere,” you told him gently, one of your hands raising to cup the bottom of his face as you tilted his head up so he could look at you. Surprisingly he let you, his eyes nailed to your expression as you patted his cuts with the cotton ball, making sure to get all of them.

You worked quietly, wiping the blood and dirt from his cheeks. He was silent the entire time as well, not even letting out a sound when his cuts stung from the alcohol. Your tongue poked out from your mouth as you concentrated, grabbing little bandages from the medkit that you could press lightly to his skin.

Like this, in the quiet of his office, you were all too aware of each intake and outtake of breath you made. Every instance where he swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing with the motion, his gaze firmly set on your face. Your fingers felt the softness of his skin, brushed over the curve of his cheeks and edge of his jaw.

And you realized, quite grumpily, that the stupid tabloid really wasn’t exaggerating when it contemplated the clarity and softness of Dynamight’s skin. It was yet another aspect of him that you just hadn’t expected, not really.

As you finished sticking the last bandaid to his chin, you noticed that you couldn’t quite find it in you to let go of his face just yet. The way he was openly observing you made you pause, eyes latched onto those burning vermillion ones of his. You watched him, tracing his cheeks with your fingers. He watched you, bringing his gloved hands up to rest gently on your wrists, holding them with an amount of care you didn’t know if you were capable of understanding. You were locked in a stalemate, neither of you willing to give in.

But you eventually did.

Stepping away, you gathered the tiny pieces of paper from the bandaids and the cotton balls so you could throw them away, letting out a sheepish laugh. “Uh! Well, that’ll do it. I think I got all of them!” You hastily walked over to the small trash can he had, dumping the garbage into it. The back of your neck burned with a heat that was insurmountable. You waved a hand behind you, not finding the strength to look around and see what expression he was making. What emotions lay beyond his eyes. “See ya!”

With that, you were gone, one of your hands clenched near your chest as your other held your burning, burning cheek. If you closed your eyes, you could still feel the way his face felt under your hold, still see the way he looked at you.

You swallowed thickly and walked away, reminiscing about smooth skin and soft cheeks.

[sipsteainanxiety]

loving you [2] || katsuki b.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 1.6k+

mentions: no pronouns mentioned again i think!, yall abt to see how much i can ramble about one thing

part one    part three

You wouldn’t call yourself oblivious, not really. Sure your mind liked to wander a lot and you often found yourself daydreaming about this and that, but you considered yourself a pretty sharp person. You had to be, with a profession like yours. You consistently had to devise new support items not only for the heroes of the Ground Zero agency, but for some of your old friends you went to high school with as well. It was a busy life, and though you often got swept up in all of its intricacies, you still made time for yourself and paid attention to the people around you. Just to make sure they were doing well. 

That being said, you could tell something... strange was going on. 

It was subtle at first. You’d feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, a burning sensation nailing itself into the back of your head. You tried to ignore it, especially as you tinkered away at your tasks. But you noticed it was happening more and more frequently. It honestly felt like someone had a vendetta against you, slowly roasting you alive with their gaze as though you’d drop dead from it if they stared hard enough. You attempted to figure out just why you were getting these feelings, but it was difficult, and no matter how discreetly you looked around, you could never find the source. 

That was fine, you thought to yourself as you sat at one of the tables in the agency’s break room. It wasn’t like it was totally impeding your work ethic, so you really had no choice but to ignore it as best as you could. You’re sure you’ll eventually stop getting those odd feelings; you just had to wait it out. Luckily for you, patience came easily. And at least at the moment, you had a little bit of a reprieve. 

The break room was a bit simplistic in nature, with a beige counter to the right housing a few microwaves, toasters, and coffee makers. A large refrigerator was right next to it, a few pictures taped to its front. A few long tables were set up in the middle of the room, some smaller ones off to the left side along the wall. You were sitting at one of the long tables, facing the wide glass doors that led out into the rest of the agency. There wasn’t anyone else in here with you, to your slight relief. The silence was welcoming, allowing your thoughts to flow easily as you picked at your food. You had your lunch in front of you—a few rice balls and a bottle of water—along with a notepad for some rough designs of new support items you were thinking of.  

You tapped your pencil against your chin, letting out a hum as you scratched out some of the dimensions you were thinking of for new Red Riot gear. He definitely needed something to at least allow him better mobility and range in his attacks. Maybe a weapon of sorts? You’d need to think about it more. You were about to stuff a rice ball in your mouth when someone called out your name, making you glance up from your notepad. 

Intense crimson. 

They were the kind of color that reminded you of the heat of a blazing fire, searingly hot. The kind that reminded you of the sun on a particularly sweltering day, the haze filling  you from the tips of your toes to the top of your head until you felt like you would melt into a puddle of water. They were the color of ripe, carmine apples, full and bursting with flavor. The color, you thought to yourself wryly, that you believed went well with feelings of determination and victory. Which only made sense when you realized whose eyes you were locked unrelentingly onto.

You blinked and looked away, scratching idly at the back of your head.

“Hey Riot,” you eventually greeted the man who’d called your name, pushing some of your papers to the side when he and Dynamight made their way over to your table. They were each holding onto their bags of lunch, decked out in more casual training clothes as they settled down comfortably across from you. 

It was a bit funny, you thought, as their broad forms loomed over your significantly smaller one. Though Dynamight was considerably lithe in comparison to Red Riot, both of their shoulders and arms spanned across quite a bit of your vision, especially as they were sitting right next to each other. 

Red Riot gave you a sheepish grin as he tore open his bag. “Aw man, come on, I told you to call me Kirishima! We’ve known each other for years now!”

You rolled your eyes, picking at the rice ball that’d never made it to your mouth. “Force of habit, my bad Kirishima,” you told him, knowing that this was probably the umpteenth time or so he was reminding you. He gave you one of his famous 1000-watt smiles before noticing what you were working on, a curious expression painting across his face.

“Working on new Riot gear?” he asked you as he picked up the paper you had just been scribbling on. His eyes flicked over your rough sketches. 

You nodded your head. “Yeah, I’m trying to think of a more effective design for your head guard. Maybe also your shoulder ones too. And also some kind of weapon to help with more long range attacks.” Kirishima hummed as you spewed out your ideas, occasionally giving a small “yeah!” or “oooh, good idea!” You continued on, undeterred now that you had his attention. “And I was also thinking you could probably use some kind of protection against quirks that could possibly melt through your skin, just in case. And a better utility belt for your medical supplies that could withstand any quirks that could possibly destroy it. Maybe we could implement some of your hair as a material...” 

Off you went, sinking deeper into a conversation with Kirishima about your plans. It was like a switch had gone off in your head and now you couldn’t stop cruising down the tangent you found yourself on. Kirishima was engrossed with your ramblings as well, occasionally pitching in his own thoughts. It was almost enough to make you forget about the other man who sat with the two of you, silently listening. 

Almost. 

You could feel the hairs on your arms stand up, that oh-so familiar burning sensation nailing itself right at the side of your face. You tried to ignore it, but you couldn’t help the glances you sparingly threw at Dynamight, his crimson eyes watching you in a way that felt so intense. Like he had something he wanted to say, but was instead trying to glare it into you in the hopes that you would pick up on it. 

Needless to say, you couldn’t. Mind reading was not your Quirk.

Kirishima’s eyes, you observed as you chatted on, were also a shade of red—just like the rest of him. But unlike Dynamight, his eyes reminded you of the warmth of a hearth. Of the feelings you would get drinking hot apple cider on a cool Autumn day. It lacked the blaze, the intensity, that Dynamight’s had. And though you liked Kirishima, you really did, his gaze just didn’t leave you feeling as though you had a fire roaring in the pit of your stomach. 

Which was a shame, you mused to yourself as you listened to Kirishima, for he was quite literally Japan’s sweetheart, with that million-dollar smile of his and bright demeanor that made even dreary days quiver in fear.

In the weeks that followed, you found yourself inevitably paying more attention to Dynamight and his stare. 

Now that you were aware, you caught yourself making eye contact with him more often than you liked. In a meeting, down in the support lab, in the break room, across the hall, he was just everywhere. Each time you locked eyes, you felt as though you were getting sucked into the redness of his irises; you—a passing comet—getting pulled into the gravitational field that surrounded him—a lava-crusted planet. 

It surely wasn’t fair that his eyes were just so pretty, you thought grumpily as you found yourself locking eyes with him for what felt like the hundredth time that day. And the fact that he had long, thick eyelashes framing them didn’t help either. 

But, as you’ve come to steadily realize the longer you spent watching him, his eyes were not like windows to his soul. They were more akin to a book that you could easily peel open, showing you all of his little emotions hidden within its pages. You just had to become accustomed to its language, carefully reading and memorizing all that encompassed him. 

You watched—often from out of his sight—as his eyes softened and hardened over the course of the day depending on his mood. As they blazed with the extent of his rage, or shone so brightly at one of his victories. You watched carefully when they were weighed down by the exhaustion that came with being a pro-hero, or as they filled with worry if any one of his friends got injured in the field.

Each and every iteration of his eyes you managed to decipher from that little book of his, carefully smoothing over its pages with gentle fingers. And as you rubbed idly at your sternum, pondering the day where you would finally be able to close it, you wondered if there was ever truly an end.

[katsukistrustychurchshoos]

ARGGHH SO CUTEE😭💞��

loving you [1] || katsuki b.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 1.5k+

mentions: first part - see masterlist for more information & other chapters when they’re released, no pronouns mentioned i think, pro hero au, fluff, uses baku’s hero name so spoilers for tht

series masterlist   part two

One of the greatest mysteries on this Earth, in your opinion, was how Dynamight got his hair to look spiky so naturally.  

You’d noticed on the very first day you saw him, stomping around the Ground Zero agency in his hero suit with hair puffed up like a dandelion. It was reminiscent of one of his explosions, you came to realize, after some time just staring at it. The ends were sharp, poking around his head and a bit over his eyes, framing his face in a way that made him look unfairly attractive. But that was besides the point. 

At first, you figured he just used an absurd amount of gel to get it to look like that. It made sense, to you, since there was simply no way he wasn’t using some sort of hair product to get it to poof up all over the place. But then, well, you met Red Riot, and it was so blatantly obvious the redhead was using gel to get his hair to stick up straight that you realized Dynamight just couldn’t have been using it at all. You made the comparisons whenever they were side-by-side—which was more often than not, seeing that they ran the agency—and the way Riot’s hair gleamed ever so slightly in the lighting whilst Dynamight’s did not told you what you wanted to know. 

But this just brought you back to square one, and you often found yourself wondering if his hair felt like how it looked or not. 

Of course, you kept your inner musings to yourself. You didn’t think Dynamight would be amused if he learned you thought about his hair at least once a day. If anything, he’d probably call you a weirdo, and you didn’t really want to fall victim to the way he would oh-so lovingly slap nicknames onto the people he talked to.

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