How Am I Dearishima Without Shima

How am I dearishima without shima 😞

Hawks calling you "Busy Bee" 🥺🥺🥺🥺

in the years bakugou katsuki’s friends have known him, they have learned that despite his loud and brash personality, he was a notoriously private person. he seldom posted on social media, rarely did interviews or showed up on talk shows. the media still ate him up, his evasiveness about his life outside of hero work only leaving people wondering just what he was hiding.

“are you sure this is the place, denks?”

he kept his private life hidden so well under wraps that he didn’t even tell his bestest friends in the whole wide world that he’d moved apartments. they’d found out by accident.

kaminari checks his phone again. “yeah! this place is on shinsou’s patrol route. i don’t think bakugou knows, but shin and i have seen him walk in here three times this week!”

simply entering a building on its own wouldn’t be enough to rouse suspicion. the first time, shinsou had reported that he’d seen bakugou wearing his uniform trailing behind a woman in a suit - someone from legal or pr, he assumed - and kaminari had thought it was for a witness interview and brushed it off.

the second time had been a little more unusual. it’d been bakugou on his own, dressed casually with his cap tipped low and his backpack slung over his shoulder. kaminari hadn’t had much time to think about that one because he’d been helping an old lady cross the street, so he’d just assumed he was visiting a friend or something.

the third time had been downright suspicious, because he’d seen bakugou dressed casually and carrying two bags of groceries in his arms. this occurrence had been downright suspicious, and had prompted kaminari to make a groupchat to share his findings.

kirishima glances around the busy street, humming. though it’s one of the wealthier districts in musutafu, the street is quiet, sleepy, dotted with small shops and street vendors. the closest agency is three blocks away, and it isn’t even bakugou’s. “it’s kinda far from our agency, don’t you think? it’s way off our patrol area, and his job is basically his life. why would he live here?”

“that’s what we’re here to find out,” kaminari shrugs, pocketing his phone. there’s a doorman stationed outside the building, sending the pair a polite grin as he holds the door open. “swanky place though, don’t you think? maybe i should get myself a nike deal too! then i can finally get out of shin’s place.”

___

katsuki’s just gotten out of the shower, stirring idly at the pot on the stove when he hears a knock at his front door. he flicks the heat down a notch before heading for the door to peek through the peephole.

that’s when pro-hero dynamight, number two on the hero billboards, and a role model for children everywhere, leans back and mutters, “fuck.”

another knock, a little more insistent this time. “hey, bakugou? you home? denks, if this isn’t his place this is gonna be real awkward.”

“fuck. fuck,” he glances over his shoulder at the bedroom, then back at the door. this wasn’t how everyone was supposed to find out. especially not ei and denki of all people, whose mouths were bigger than their combined iq.

he lets the analytic hero side of his brain assesses the situation first. the obvious answer is that he could just…not open the door. it’s a good, quick solution in the short term, but will still come back to bite him in the ass later. when it comes to his personal life, no wall (or door, in this case) could withstand the nosiness of his friends.

his other option was to, well, open the door. just a crack, of course. feeding the vultures a half-truth would placate them for the time being, so he could retreat and come back with a better plan.

“hey! bakugou!” kaminari cheers when he begrudgingly opens the door. “so you do live here!”

“last time i checked, yeah,” he huffs, staying planted firmly in the doorway. he treats this like he would any interview, shutting down any unwanted questions with blunt, half-answers. it’s usually enough to deter most reporters, but his friends have learned to shrug off his hostility simply because they lack any self-preservation skills.

“can we come in?” kirishima asks hopefully. “we wanna see your new place!”

“no.”

he rolls his eyes at their identical pouts. “why not?”

“because i can’t trust you both near things that can stain.” he gestures to the hall. “now can you please get out of here so i don’t burn dinner?”

“ugh, fine,” kaminari relents with a louder than necessary groan, which katsuki immediately finds suspicious, especially when the blond places a hand on his shoulder. “i gotta admit, this is a nice place, man, you did good. i’m proud of you.”

katsuki feels it a second too late– the light tingling that often precedes–

he curses through clenched teeth as kaminari shocks him with a voltage just shy of a taser, body folding as it fights the current. his so-called friends take the opportunity to push past him and into his living room.

“awe, look!” that electric dipshit coos, picking up a picture frame. “It’s a picture of all of us at graduation!”

“and look at this one! this one is of him and–” kirishima’s expression shifts into genuine surprise. “this is the head of our legal department…and you’re kissing her! on the mouth!”

of course it’s then that the bedroom door opens, three heads turning to see you walking out, toweling off your wet hair. “katsuki?”

the pro, still crumpled in the doorway, looks away as his friends do a double take, then fix him with wide eyed stares.

“katsuki!” you gasp, rushing to his side. “oh my god, are you okay?”

“‘m fine,” he coughs, letting you help him to his feet. “aside from the two ass clowns in our living room.”

“hey!”

“oh, ignore him,” you simper, pressing yourself into his side. “he loves you guys, but right now…i think he’d prefer to love you from afar. at least until our housewarming party!”

“housewarming party?!”

𝙀𝙓𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙀 𝘾𝘼𝙍𝘿'𝙎, 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙁𝙀𝙀𝙇𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎!─ k. bakugo

𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐅. bakugo loves your "priceless" gift.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. bakugo x reader.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. nothing except if you don't celebrate christmas I guess, the reader is a bit of an idiot, established flourishing relationship, fluff, blushy bakugo.

a/📓 : happy holidays!

Bakugo eyed at the dishonest rare Bronze age All Might trading card that was kept protected in a display case on his dresser as if it held some sort of significance.

To most hard-line All Might fans like himself, things like this were child's play; they could effortlessly purify which Bronze age All Might card was a trap and which was genuine by defining the colors. The real had the full art of the gorgeous number one hero Detroit smashing towards you in his black and red uniform. This was worth well over ¥40,000.

The fake, however, had the same accuracy as the real but wasn't worth much. The background color was the conclusive factor that directly divided the two cards. The actual card had an aureolin setting with a holographic rainbow that bedazzled your eyes when the desk light hits it. The phony had a lemon yellow setting with a nice holographic rainbow. Easy.

You were never an All Might fan and instead, you always leaned towards the lesser heroes like Fat Gum.

This means in some cases, that sketchy store clerk duped the shit out of you.

You spotted the item behind the store clerk's desk when you were shopping for clothing with your girls and immediately recognized it as something your boyfriend would like. The problem was that the clerk told an untruth and asserted that the fabrication was reasonably worth thousands of yen, thousands of yen a 3rd year like you wouldn't normally carry. So in response, you worked your ass off serving bitchy consumers teriyaki as a waitress to the level where Bakugo could only talk to you during school hours.

But when you came to him with frostnip nose and ears and a big, luminous smile when you gave up the card bandaged in a comic snowman wrapping paper, he wasn't sure what to exactly say.

"Do you like it? I heard that there are only four copies of it in the world," he remembers you sitting down next to him when you announced it, a smile basically polluting in the way you spoke. You were nearly bouncing the bed under him from excitement, awaiting acknowledgment from him.

Should the Bakugo risk admitting that it was fake, help get your money back and stake that chance of you getting embarrassed or say nothing and soak in the appreciation that you thought of him and not midoriya.

He voted the latter.

He memorized rebelling against the blushed smile that trudged onto his lips. "Yeah, it's nice I guess," he murmurs, feigning interest by flipping the card to its back.

"You know you love it! Stop that," you bumped into his shoulders, now glowing with gratification.

Bakugo won't cite that he loved it so much that he removed his real copy from its spot on the dresser and replaced it with yours.

From now on I'm gonna write Mirio as the number-one hero