Bakugou x Reader

Chapter 6: The Morning After

Hawks threw his jacket on the back of the chair. Katsuki Bakugou, he thought to himself. Of course, he had remembered Bakugou. How could he have forgotten? He was all Y/n talked about during their patrols.

Having him in the picture ruined fucking everything.

Hawks let out a sigh and started typing on his keyboard. He looked up Bakugou's name and his importance. Hawks hadn't kept up with other heroes and their stats in forever, he found it idiotic. Besides, there's not much you can do when you're one of the fastest heroes out there.

Pulling up in an article, Bakugou was the number one hero. He had plenty of power now and an ample amount of money. There's a link to a video that Hawks decides to click on.

"Welcome back to Hero of the Day with Channel 12 news! Today, after an embarrassing number of calls and requests sent to his team, we have the US's number one hero: Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite! Or whom we fans like to call, Ground Zero. I'm Clara Cantara and let's get ready for an interview with our Japanese Protector."

The camera angles on Bakugou who looks pissed as hell. As the news anchor sits down, there's a noticeable look of fear on her face.

"So uh, Ground Zero. Can you tell us about your hero origin story?"

Bakugou huffs and rolls his eyes. "I wanted to be a hero, so I became one."

Clara makes a nervous glance at her camera crew before quickly going back to the questions. She clears her throat before speaking, "there's been word that before you came to America, you were a fashion model for your parents and their fashion designing business. Can you give us a background story on that?"

He shifts in his seat. "The old hag wanted me to be her fucking model. I hated that shit."

"And have you ever told her about how you felt?"

He looks at her like she's the stupidest person ever. "Fuck yeah, I told her. I told her every damn second!" He jumps out of his seat and runs up directly in front of the camera. "And if you're listening you old hag! Ever put me in some shit like that again and I'll blow both you and your joke of a husband asses up!"

Bakugou then proceeds to use his quirk to blow up the camera. The video ends.

Hawks rolls his eyes. How unprofessional.

There's a knock at the door before it opens. It's Mirko, Hawks' assistance. She drops a file on his desk and walks to the other side of the room with her hands placed on her hips. Taking a lollipop out of her mouth, she says, "heard you spoke to y/n today."

He looks up. "Who told."

Mirko stretches her arms above her head. "Word gets around."

Hawks smiles to himself as he kicks his legs on top of his desk. "Hell yeah, I did."

His mind wandered to how you had spoken to him earlier today like you wanted nothing more than to get away from him.

He also noticed the differences in your behavior between him and Bakugou. There's no telling what the little shit was doing to you, but whatever it was, he was going to get to the bottom of it.

Mirko plops down in a chair.

Hawks thinks out loud, "how can she even afford him? I heard he costs thousands." Hawks had done a little research on you. Not to be weird or anything, but your bank account wasn't the nicest looking.

There's no way Bakugou is working for her for free... Right?

He knew Bakugou had plenty of secrets that would ruin his career if they had gotten out. But patience was key here, and Hawks knew he had an ample amount of time.

---------

You and Bakugou were in the kitchen eating a breakfast made by his personal chef. He watched as you inhaled the fluffiest pancakes in your entire life.

That morning he had gotten out of bed an hour earlier to help his chef make breakfast just the way he knew you once had liked. Even though his face hid it well, he was nervous to see if you had enjoyed the meal.

You glanced up at him, he'd hardly touched anything on his plate. "What's wrong?" You say while wiping your hands.

Bakugou looks back at his plate. Picking up a piece of fruit before saying, "nothing."

The two of you eat in silence. Well, psychical silence that is. You had been reminiscing on everything that had happened last night.

Bakugou kept you entertained the entire night. The two of you shared memories and past experiences that were horribly embarrassing. All while Bakugou held you in his arms.

You managed to doze off a few times, but he never let you sleep for more than five minutes. Overall, you enjoyed your forced all-nighter.

"What are you smiling at?"

You shake your head. "Nothing."

You hear him sigh. He turns to face you completely. "Y/n, I hate to ruin the mood, but we need to talk about the stalker." Your smile slowly fades. "You said you felt him while you were in Husutafu. Was this before or after the battle?"

You place your fork down. "After. About a week before I officially left."

"You should've called me once they released you from the hospital."

You clench your jaw. "Maybe you should've been at the hospital."

Bakugou shakes his head. "The most I was allowed to do was drop you off. Once I got there, the fucking half-used tampon took over saying the hospital was owned by his father and he'd take care of you himself. He said he would notify me once you were well enough to have visitors, but the fucker obviously lied."

You slightly tilt your head. You hadn't recalled Todoroki being there. You remember saving him, but not him being at the hospital.

"After maybe a week or two of waiting," he continues. "I decided to go check on you. They said you had already been discharged a few days prior. They said half-n-half was your fucking doctor the entire time."

A faint memory crawled back into your mind. Todoroki had mentioned to you before that if he didn't become a successful hero, he'd be a doctor instead. He spent various nights in your dorm studying and explaining how the human body works to you.

Bakugou was trying to put the stories together. He wasn't aware of your presence at the dorms due to a fashion show in London at the time. Once he came back, everyone was telling him he had left with no trace of where you had gone.

Meaning that if the dumbass was bothering you a week or two before, they had to have gone to U.A, or had some sort of connection with the school.

You lost your appetite. Though you were tired, you still had an entire day ahead of you. "Thank you and your chef for making this breakfast for me, but I'm going to head to the gym. Training, you know."

You walked off to your room and shut the door.