Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"I'm not going to be in love with you just because a quirk tells me to be."

Those were the first words that pro-hero Dynamight, Bakugou Katsuki, your alleged soulmate, had ever spoken to you. The sigh of relief that escaped you finally allowed you to slump back into the brown leather bench you were sitting on. 

You had been incredibly early to your organised first date. After receiving a date and time, no indication of the name of your soulmate due to a privacy request, you had been nervous that the guy you were meeting would actually be looking for love. If that had been the case, you would have given up on your quest of finding a temporary boyfriend.

So, you got there earlier than agreed, ordering a cappuccino and finding a seat in the far corner of the café. The area was illuminated by two dim lamps hanging on the wall, leaving most of the table in darkness. Bright light poured in from the windows, a sharp outline of sunshine on the floor leaving you in a darker shadow than you had already been in. You didn't mind. You preferred remaining apart from the rest of the people - an elderly couple and a guy you assumed was an author by the way he hunched over his laptop, never ceasing to write. 

Every person that walked past the window's frame made you straighten up a little, thinking that your date had arrived. As soon as they passed, you felt your back hunch over again, growing increasingly agitated as time went on. And when the Dynamight had walked in, you had dismissed it, thinking that the guy was just there for a break from his patrols. 

Except he approached you. And you freaked out. You were not about to tell a charting pro-hero that you had sought your soulmate out in hopes of finding someone who would participate in your scheme. 

But then, he calmed all your apprehensions with that greeting. 

"I'm not looking for love." You reassured him, taking a sip from your coffee, only to be met with a bitter cold taste. You grimaced, shaking your head. You had been so focussed on waiting for your date to show up, you had completely forgotten about your drink. "Uh, you see... I only reached out to that soulmate service because I need a boyfriend." You explained, looking away from him as you had to focus hard on your quirk's ability to heat up your coffee again. 

Temperature control. It was not particularly powerful - it sure as hell could not make you a hero - but it came in handy when you managed to keep control of it. 

Warming up your coffee was simple enough, but even then, it required tremendous effort and concentration. 

"Why?" Bakugou asked. He leaned back, arms crossed over his chest and while his expression remained static, you could tell you had piqued his interest. That or he had no other choice than to ask. 

After all, he had been after something as well. Why else would he organise a meeting?

"My work." You said, putting the cup back down, satisfied with the heat you had given back to it. "You see, I work in HR. Human Resources. Hero Recruitment. Hell and Regret. Whatever you wanna call it. Small company, recruitment consultancy, and I'm doing well. My numbers are up and my clients are happy. But I really want that fucking promotion that my boss is refusing to give me." You added some sugar to your drink, not that it needed it, but you needed to keep your hands occupied and tapping against the cup was just not doing it for you.

"And a boyfriend helps your professional career... how exactly?" He asked, brow raised. 

"My boss thinks I'm not in it for the right reasons. For the people. Complaining about how I'm not hanging out enough with my coworkers, how I never talk about my personal life, how it lacks family. Says it's a bad look if my job revolves all around people. Bullshit, by the way." You felt yourself growing more agitated as you spoke on it, memories from your recent meeting with your boss flooding back in. You sighed, putting the spoon down before you could make a mess. "So, at the next work party, I parade a boyfriend around, show how much I really care about people, and done. Promotion granted."

You had gotten into this line of business through continued indecisiveness - when you called it 'hell and regret', you meant it. Regretting going into a Business Administration degree with no thought behind it, because... Hey, it's an easy degree. So easy, in fact, you never even attended any classes. Throwing yourself into a first HR experience via an internship and realising that you were good enough for it. Ending up working at a shit large company that took all the joy from your career from you - not that you had found much in it anyways. 

And then you found the job of a small consulting agency requiring a hero recruiter for their clients. You resigned the same day at the big company, applied for the job, and miraculously had gotten the new position after one interview.

You should have clocked that as a massive red flag.  

It had been a small shit hole. The coffee machine poured out undigestible black tar. One toilet space had been available for all workers which you had only been six at the time. The paper archive was right in the office space, boxes stacking up in the corner as you could not throw anything away in the case you got into legal trouble. At least you had gotten a company laptop, but all other supplies had to be ordered personally as, at the time, the agency had no personal provider to contact. 

But over the past four years you had helped it grow - secured big name clients, evolved the social media page, networked like your life depended on it. 

Well, your life had depended on it. You had rent to pay. 

Instead of squeezing yourselves into that tiny space with twenty other start-ups, you were now in a bigger building with a space reserved for your agency. No other enterprise could enter your part of the office without authorisation. Hell, you had even managed to convince everyone to chip in for one of those noise-cancelling cubicles that would help separate calls from the rest of the room. 

And yet, your boss refused to give you that promotion.

You had nowhere else to go. Hero recruitment was not necessarily a booming business, especially because you had ensured to smother all competition. 

You wanted to be the competition. But you couldn't open an own agency with the current pay you had. With the current level you occupied in the company. No matter how well you would sell yourself to your clients, none would sponsor the idea. So you needed that promotion. 

"Fair enough." Bakugou nodded. Whatever you had said seemed plausible enough - not that it mattered all that much, as long as you were after the same thing as him. "My ratings are ass." He said, waiting for you to say something, point out that you didn't know who he was, but seeing as you worked in the hero business, it seemed like he did not have to make some big reveal to his name. "Some shit about the wrong image. My PR manager suggested a relationship, showing a new side of me to the public."

You nodded in return. You were familiar with the criticisms that the pro-hero Dynamight faced. Too abrasive. Loud. Aggressive. A quirk that showed promise but an execution that was inhumane - no matter how many people he had saved with it. Cancelled every other week. He had his followers, people who liked his honesty - lacking a filter, no sugarcoating, bitter, and rough. 

Your eyes lingered on his scars. Specifically the one on his face, one he could not cover as he did the rest of his body. 

"So you just need me to go on a date with you every once in a while, take a few selfies and let your management team handle all online interactions?" You asked and he lifted his pointer finger off his bicep, nodding - Bingo. 

"There's also at least one event I need you to join me for." He added. 

"Fine by me. You come to my work event, I join your hero event. It's only fair." You agreed. "I work Monday to Friday, normal nine-to-five. Friday I work from home." You explained, sliding his phone to him, inviting him to input his number to stay in touch. "And uh, don't get me wrong, I appreciate the whole agreeing to fake dating thing, but I don't necessarily see a point in getting to know each other better. I have chores to do so-"

Bakugou typed his number in, shaking his head. "No need to explain. I don't give a shit about what you do in your free time." 

Even if you did not believe that the soulmate quirk had been a legitimate thing, you were absolutely giving props to the lady for bringing Bakugou into your life at this moment. A person who asked no further questions about the whole fake dating ordeal. A person who was not looking for love but use. A person who would leave you alone the rest of the time, because you simply did not need to interact much more than necessary with one another. 

"I'll run this by my manager. You said you're home Friday?" He asked. 

"One hour lunch break at twelve. I'll send you my address." You confirmed. 

"Name?"

"(L/N)(F/N)." You responded and he typed your name into his phone. 

You grabbed your bag, dropping your phone into it and sliding off the leather bench. "Ah, uh... Thanks." You said. "You're making things a lot easier than it would have been otherwise."

"Likewise." He responded. 

You had officially become business partners - business partners who were in a fake relationship. You could return home with relief surrounding you. Hell, you didn't even care what kind of facial expressions you were pulling on your way back. You felt ecstatic! Elated! Because just a couple of days before you had announced to your work place that you had been dating a guy for a couple of weeks and things seemed to be going well. 

They were curious, pestering you about updates. 

"You should maybe invite him to one of our afterwork drinks, we'd love to meet him!" 

"Can we see a picture?"

"What does he do for work?"

You evaded all questions, saying that he was a very private person and he did not want to have any information shared unless the relationship got more serious. However, you were approaching the deadline of when a relationship was 'more serious'. And your coworkers loved to linger around you while you were trying to focus, prying as much information from you as possible.

Especially Tsuji. A coworker who had started just two weeks before you had. A coworker who had made you reconsider your move to the new position. Who had made you want to quit on multiple occasions.

Because why would you go to the office, simply trying to get your eight hours in, boost your performance, get paid, but then have to deal with getting asked out on a date at least three times a week?

There had been a time when he had not been so subtle about it, when he kept asking you out directly - a bit too directly adding "It's not like you have any other people to hang out with" - but eventually he learned that you were not interested.

Instead he asked in a more discreet manner, offering to other coworkers to join the two of you for your outing. 

"Good morning, (F/N)." He said, dropping his back on his desk as he took out the laptop, unwinding his chargers in an obnoxious manner - maybe you were just hateful, but god damn did his mannerisms piss you off. Maybe it was the lack of caffeine on a Monday morning before you had to go through six interviews in a row. Dealing with a guy who called you by your first name when you had never given him the authorisation to do so also added to your headache. "How was your weekend?"

"Morning, Tsuji. Good, how was yours?" You said, not looking up from your screen as you organised your files for the day. At least you could escape to a cubicle in a couple of minutes and ignore everyone until lunch. You were not one for small talk and that was all that existed in this place. 

"Good good." Instead of remaining at his desk, he walked past yours, letting his fingers trail around the edge as he grabbed the box of paperclips that had been there for the past four years. 

If he needed a distraction, he could have just done so with his work?

"Spend time with your boyfriend?" He asked, taking out a paperclip and inspecting it. The restraint it took you to not roll your eyes only added to your growing headache. Your palms started to heat up, forcing you to remove your hands from your keyboard to not cause damage. With nothing else to occupy yourself with, you looked up at Tsuji. 

"Yes, we went on a date, actually."

"Any pictures you'd like to share?" He asked. "It seems pre-tty serious between the two of you, no?"

"Um, yeah. It is getting a bit more serious, definitely." You responded, hoping your smile came off more natural than strained. "I'm sure I'll have pictures next Monday. Too busy with work to see him most days." You explained, getting up from your seat, shutting your laptop and picking it up. "Now excuse me, I have a few calls to go through before lunch." 

Before he could add anything more to the conversation, you had already walked off towards the small cubicle. 

Still no coffee. Tsuji would have followed you to the kitchen if you had done the detour. 

At least the cubicles were pretty sound-proof. Not enough to silence a scream, but a stream of cuss words remained between you and the small space. You quickly wiped your hands on your pants, the sweat from the heat caused by your quirk having built up rapidly. A deep breath did wonders for your headache - you could throw yourself back into work without the worry of accidentally blowing your laptop up. 

Before the first call of the day, your phone lit up. 

Bakugou messaged you: "Address."

Ominous. You sent it to him. 

Another message: Fri 12

Alright, so he was definitely not big on texting. Cool. You responded with a thumbs up. 

Friday at twelve he would show up at your doorstep. 

You put a reminder in your calendar: Take selfie.

Chapter Text

"Mhm, alright... Tell me why do you want to join the Genius Office?" You asked, opening the door for Bakugou, pressing your pointer finger to your lips as you nodded to your phone. Your interviews had dragged on in the morning, leaving you to deal with the final internship candidate past the start of your lunch break. Adding to being hangry, you had not been particularly impressed with his profile - his motivations were all over the place. The kid had been misled. His definition of being a hero was bound to fame and recognition, not for the sake of saving others. 

You led Bakugou to your living room, giving him a sign to wait for a moment as you went back to your laptop in the kitchen. Your apartment had a rather open layout with your kitchen around the corner, no doors to separate it from the living area, only half a wall. You placed your phone on the table, speaker on, as the kid continued to confidently proclaim his response. On your laptop, you only added the note 'Not the right motivation - Reject' to his profile. 

"Thank you very much. I will keep in touch with you. Please expect a response by Tuesday morning latest." You informed him, finally hanging up and updating your Teams status to 'Do not disturb.' 

"Denim Head would like the kid." Bakugou commented as you walked back to him, ready to apologise for keeping him waiting. "What do you mean?" You asked instead, leaning against the half wall that was separating the two rooms. 

"Misguided arrogant fucks." He said with a laugh and it caught you off guard how... almost vulnerable he looked in that moment? Or were you just imagining things? Because as soon as his eyes had softened, letting go of his stoic frown, he had gone back to it. "Jeanist would be a good mentor for him."

"Aha." You responded. "What do you want to drink?" You asked, avoiding the previous conversation. You did not wish to explain your recruitment process to a guy who never had to worry about his performance in a corporate setting. For a hero's agency who had not once left the top five spot, you had to be a lot more selective than just quirks. Neither did you have the patience to remind him that Best Jeanist was retired and your client was his successor. You needed personality matches, value matches, and proof of hard work and talent. If the kid was after fame, then he could find that on his own. 

"Water's fine." Bakugou responded and you obliged. For yourself, you poured a tea, trying to cut down on the high levels of caffeine you were usually consuming in the office.

And you needed something to warm your hands. 

You wouldn't admit it to Bakugou, but his comment about the candidate did make you question your decision. An unease settled over your stomach transforming into the ice cold anxiety in your palms for which you lacked the mental capacity to control. Unfortunately, your tea soon turned unenjoyable, the steam rapidly disappearing due to your frigid touch. 

"What did your manager say?" You asked, pulling a blanket over your legs as you dragged your feet under it. 

Bakugou ignored your question. His eyes were focussed on the little All Might figurine - the only kind of merch in your home - that was propped up next to the TV. As you spoke again trying to get his attention, his gaze still avoided you, taking in the decor of your home, noticing just how organised everything was. He couldn't explain it, but there seemed to be an order you followed that only you comprehended from the smallest details to the biggest picture. The figurine did not fit into your style at all. It did not fit the minimalist way you were living - too colourful, All Might's energetic pose, big smile. Bakugou could not imagine staying at your place too long. It felt... corporate. When it should have been a home. 

"When's your work party?" Bakugou asked. 

Cool - ignoring your question and deflecting. What was up with the guy?

"In two months. It's the big annual closing because our fiscal year ends in June and starts in July. So the party should be on... Friday, June 27th." You explained, checking the calendar on your phone where you had clearly marked the event with the title 'Fake Boyfriend Introduction'. 

"Alright, so by then we have to be in an established relationship online as well." He stated. "Are you free tomorrow?"

You were practically always free on the weekends. You nodded.

"Tomorrow we'll go on a date."

"Tomorrow already?" You muttered. Frankly, reality had not yet fully kicked in with you. Telling Tsuji you would show him a picture of your boyfriend was one thing - you had already lied about it before and when you told him, Bakugou had not even crossed your mind. Not really, at least. It was just the shadow of the boyfriend you had been making up until actually finding someone to join in on your scheme. 

"Yeah, my agency will anonymously tip off some photographers that I'm out in the city with someone. You don't have plans, no?"

"No no, I just... Time passes quickly." You simply responded. Your hands were betraying you. You no longer were drinking a nice hot mint tea. Iced tea more likely. Why were you feeling so jittery over a fictitious romance? "Uh, what exactly is it that we're gonna do tomorrow?"

"Go for dinner, walk around town, hold hands, kiss-"

"Uh hold on a moment!" You interrupted him, putting your cup on the table before you could bring your tea to a boil. Shit - you had completely missed the fact that in order to sell the whole affair, you actually had to act like a couple to the public eye. Hand holding was one thing. You shouldn't have too much trouble with keeping your quirk at bay... But if he kissed you? You hid your hands under the blanket, feeling the heat continue to rise along with your embarrassment. "Ground rules! No kissing."

Bakugou rolled his eyes as if he had known you would give him that answer. As if he were prepared to face your concerns, but then he couldn't find the words that would convince you otherwise. "I'm not fond of this either, but what the fuck did you expect? Not sure how your boss would react if we avoided any form of contact-"

"I'm not asking you to avoid all contact!" You interrupted. "Just... No kissing. I'm not making out with you for the cameras. Hand holding should be enough proof of our relationship. And while we're at it, your hands should not be anywhere except in mine, so keep them to yoursel-"

"I don't think you get what it means to be dating in the public eye-"

"As if you would know, you've never even had a girlfriend!" You rebutted - in hindsight, you should not have said it. All that proved was that you had stalked his interviews to find out more about him. 

"And yet I'm dealing with the scrutiny of social media every fucking day, dumbass!" 

As if on command, the both of you took a deep breath simultaneously. Yours mixed with a hiss from the scalding heat extending from your hands. While you could withstand extreme temperatures, your quirk shielding you from itself, sometimes your agitation gave it enough of a boost to break through your own defences. 

The fact that Bakugou - your alleged soulmate - could drive you to that point, a point not even your coworkers managed to get you to, was a nasty blow to your guts. 

This whole thing was supposed to be easy, not bring you on the edge of madness. 

You barely interacted with him and yet your doubt that he was actually a soulmate grew. It must have been a scam no matter what the reviews had said. 

"People catch onto the dumbest things. One wrong look, an off-hand comment, and the stunt is over." He explained, a strain in his voice from repressing his frustration with you. You almost felt sorry. Almost. But he was still a hero. He had money. Fame. He was charting, for fuck's sake! How could the spot in the top twenties not be enough for him? If anything, you deserved the pity. 

And you would have thrown all these accusations at him but he was your only shot at the promotion. 

"No kissing." You repeated and you watched as he closed his eyes, rubbing a hand over his face. "But..." He glanced over to you. "In everything else, I'll let you take the lead. If you think we're not being convincing enough, then tell me and I'll follow your lead."

Better than nothing. Bakugou had to admit to that. "That's fair." He agreed. "I'll pick you up for dinner at six tomorrow."

"Alright... Uh, what kind of restaurant?" You asked, pulling your shirt forward at the hem, looking at him expectantly. 

"Nothing too fancy. You can dress... how you dress for work, I guess." He clarified and you thanked him for the details. 

"I'll see you tomorrow then." You followed him to the hallway, but no further words were exchanges as he left. 

You groaned and slumped against the wall in defeat. Forgetting that a relationship was more than the title of girlfriend and boyfriend... That had been entirely on you. Of course, you would have to look like you were close with one another. Your eyes shot down to your palms. Hand holding should not be too troublesome as long as it remained limited, you'd make sure of it. Somehow you'd figure your quirk's control out. But if he did anything that would leave you so flustered you couldn't focus? 

Shit - how could you not have thought about the issue earlier? You usually plan everything out so meticulously and you forget about the troubles that your quirk had been causing you? 

"I'll manage." You convinced yourself. Tried to convince yourself. The shaky sigh in your voice was not exactly a sign of immense confidence but you could work it out. You had to. That promotion was so close. 

With your heated up lunch, you returned to your laptop. The candidate's CV still on your main page with your half-assed notes propped up in the corner of the screen. 'Not the right motivation - Reject' you read again. "Yeah, I should follow my first instinct." You muttered to yourself, closing the file and dragging it over to the rejection pile. 

Why were your hands so cold? You bit your lip, opening the document again. The heavy feeling in your stomach dissipating again. "Misguided, hm?" You muttered, reading over the kid's quirk, his interests, his placement at the Sport's Festival. You closed the file once more, this time hovering over the 'Next Round' section. 

The worst that could happen would be that the Genius Office rejected the kid. 

You let his profile go through. 

And you pretended that never happened, returning to your other open positions. During lunch time you usually screened applications because it was the one thing that you could do while being distracted.

"Next Round... Mhhh...." You hummed, scrolling down the next candidate's information and motivations. "Reject..." A routine you continued on for the duration of your lunch. After that slip up with the candidate for the Genius Office, you'd rather not push through anyone you were 100% convinced by. 

As you returned the dishes to the sink, you laptop pinged a few times. Messages from Tsuji, most of which were squashed between the typical corporate GIFs of a person drinking a coffee and a 'Hooray for the Weekend!' Ugh. You couldn't stand these images anymore. 

"Have you updated the recruitment numbers?" You read the message. Clear indication that Tsuji was just reaching out for the sake of reaching out - Friday mornings were reserved for the review of the numbers and the week's report is always capped at Friday ten in the morning. Everything that comes after would be included in the following week's report. Tsuji knew that. The system had been like that ever since you had implemented it four years ago. You bit the inside of your cheek, not feeling like responding to him, but you had to. Being a good coworker and all. 

You: Yes, all updated. 

Tsuji: Cool! Crazy how many positions we've closed this week!

Your headache grew once more. "We? Tch." You hissed, closing your eyes to think before you acted. 'Fuck off' was not a work appropriate response and the worst part about working in HR was that all HR violations are handled by the directors. Your boss. You couldn't bring an issue to his table - not when you were gunning for that damn promotion. 

You: Yeah haha good work

Tsuji: You free tomorrow? Asked the rest of the crew but they're all busy:( I thought we could grab a drink or two?

Direct. Too direct. Especially now that you were officially 'taken'.

You: Sorry already have plans

Tsuji: Date?

You: Yup.

Tsuji: You still owe me that picture;)

You didn't owe him shit. He didn't need to know about Bakugou - didn't need to know anything about your dating life. You were not obligated to share.

You: You'll get some tomorrow that's for sure

You sent him a winky face GIF. Sure, you didn't owe him anything, but you would give anything to be a fly on his wall once the dating rumours of you and pro hero Dynamight went public. 

Maybe you'd even give a little kiss. 

A peck in front of the cameras. 

The heat in your palms forced you to turn to other matters. 

You'll deal with your inhibition for physical touch another time. 

Chapter Text

You could absolutely forget that little peck. 

Five minutes you'd been standing by the sink. The cold water evaporated the moment it touched your skin, because you couldn't handle your rising panic. "Jesus fuck!" You hissed, the steam rising towards your face as you leaned back as far as possible to evade it.

Your make up was too pretty to be ruined by your lack of quirk control. 

Plagued by last-minute-jitters your whole life, this was not a first. The first day of work for the three companies you had worked for - intern, underpaid, underpaid - had started the exact same way. First day of school? Same shit. The only exception with this was that it happened ten minutes before Bakugou would show up at your doorstep picking you up for the date. 

These jitters could have been avoided if you had refrained from fuelling your doubts by going online and checking how celebrity relationships were treated. And you couldn't help but think: "Man, this must be karma for me laughing at hateful comments before." Because all of a sudden, every slightly negative comment affected you. And they weren't directed at you at all. How could they be? In the public eye - well, you didn't exist.

Once the rumours started you would need to deal with backlash. Yes, Bakugou's social media team would handle the image, but people were indeed crazy. They would dig up your private accounts, work place, previous dating history (non-existent), friends, family... 

And how would your clients react? All these big hero agencies faced with the knowledge that you may be playing at favouritism for Bakugou's agency. An agency that was not part of your clients, but how would the others know that?

You really had put no thought behind this whole scheme. 

That was so not you. 

Where was your care? Where was the folder organised with sub-folders and PowerPoint presentations with all the steps of your plan? Where was the Word document that contained all the risks this endeavour would pose? Why had you not asked Bakugou about the things his manager had in mind so you could organise each subject with a fitting schedule?

And what would happen if you broke up? Bakugou gets a free pass as the victim of your villainous behaviour throughout the relationship? You get fired because his company would paint you in an incredibly negative light? 

Where was the reassurance that there would be no consequences once the relationship ended? 

The bell rang.

"One moment!" You yelled. The sudden noise pulled you out from your spiral just enough to allow you the deep breaths you had needed for the cold water to show its desired effects. You hurried to the front door, your kitten heels clacking obnoxiously as you did, and you regretted putting them on. But god - they were cute. A deep red, pointed, texture of crocodile skin. Almost enough to completely reset your nerves. Almost. 

You opened the door, met with a Bakugou in a white shirt covered by a loose sleeveless V-neck. "You look good." You told him, trying to pretend like you had not just been freaking out and considering opting out of the whole affair. 

"There's no cameras around, you don't need to pretend." He responded. 

"I wasn't pretending..." You mumbled, but he had already taken off, not even waiting for you to finish locking up your apartment. The guy was good-looking but he still needed to learn some manners. Wouldn't hurt his image. "Wait up! Running in these shoes is not efficient!" You called after him and he had the decency to wait for you. 

"Don't slack."

"Gee thanks, I also think I dressed quite nicely today." You said with a roll of your eyes. "Weren't you the one who worried about authenticity? How about practicing chivalry?"

You shouldn't have expected anything more from Bakugou than his usual frown and refusal to remotely act like your boyfriend outside of camera attention. When he took his car keys out, you had assumed that the grey Honda Civic would be it... Except the black Porsche right behind it lit up as it unlocked. "Holy fuck-" You mouthed, glad to not have said anything out loud, because you were not about to feed this guy's ego any further. 

No - not now. Of course the shock of the expensive car - how many times your annual pay? You didn't even want to know - had sent a scorching heat back into your hands. 

One touch and your insurance company would personally get rid of you before giving out a single cent to cover the damages. 

"Come on. Chivalry." You urged him, nodding at the car door, not to tease, but because there was no way in hell you could get into the car. You would melt the handle right off. 

"Fucking hell, first you're absolutely against any display of romance and now you beg for it?" Bakugou said, making his way over to you, opening the door for you. "At least you're taking this shit seriously."

Against any display of romance? "I think you interpreted our talk yesterday differently than I did. I'm not against any display of romance, I'm against you shoving your lips onto mine. Big fucking difference."

Fuck. Seatbelt. Bakugou bickered back at you - you had expected nothing less - but you just put all your focus and energy on calming down. You heard no words coming from until your hands were cool enough to put the seatbelt on. Success. Your insurance company should be proud of you. "How long until we're at the restaurant?" You asked as he drove out of the parking area in front of your apartment building. 

"Thirty minutes." 

Figures. You lived at the end of fuck all in the city outskirts. To get to work you had to take the car because the bus from your place only drove every thirty minutes and was typically full of people. And that ride took forty minutes. Your car got you there a bit faster, but it was ridiculous how you lived in the town of your work place and still needed so long to get there. 

"We could use the time to get to know each other." You suggested. "For authenticity's sake."

Bakugou shot you a quick glance before focussing on the road again. You thought he would reject the idea. After all, you just needed to look in love, so friendship was completely unnecessary. Why bother getting to know each other if you both seemed to be such excellent liars? "Fine. What do you want to know?" 

Oh - you hadn't thought you'd get this far. "Uh... Why did you want to become a hero?" You asked. 

"You pulling your HR questions on me?"

You absolutely were. "Humour me." You said.  

"Born talented."

"Ugh, I'd reject your application in a millisecond." You grumbled. "Come on, dude. There must be more to the big name Dynamight than just being born with a flashy quirk?"

His finger was tapping against the steering wheel, but it didn't seem like he was annoyed by your pestering. The way his other hand, elbow propped against the window, hung in front of his mouth, the casual pose while driving, the rolled up sleeves of his white shirt... You had to look away. When you had told him he looked good, you meant to be friendly. You blended out how attractive he actually was - most of the time you were just annoyed by his mannerisms that you never really looked in his direction. 

Taking a closer look? Lethal. 

You needed a drink. Bad. 

"I grew up watching All Might's rescue videos. Before I even got my quirk, I knew I wanted to be a hero. And then it manifested, proving that I was meant for this for life. Satisfying enough?"

"Sometimes you speak like you're reading a book blurb." You just commented. 

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" He retorted. 

"Your answer just felt... Generic. But I guess you don't owe me anything, you're just my boyfriend after all." You teased.

"Pff, alright then, dear girlfriend." He dragged his words, joining in on your teasing. Alright, you had to admit that maybe hanging out with him could be a little fun. "How did you end up in the most depressing career possible?"

"I don't work in the morgue, dude." 

"Morgue. Corporate. Same shit." At a red light, he turned to look at you, clearly wanting to drive a point home. "Don't tell me your end goal in life is to hold annoying small talk every morning, drink shit coffee every hour to avoid dealing with your nerves, and smile at a bunch of pricks saying 'What a good meeting!' after postponing every problem you were facing to the next week?"

"Shit, man, have you worked in this business before?" You responded instead, surprised how knowledgeable he had been over the routine state of the corporate world. The only thing he had been missing was the ridiculous amount of 'This could have been an email'-thoughts that plagued you during every one of those meetings he described. 

He continued driving.

"Hero agencies need to cover a shit ton of admin, so I see it. The difference is, I have something else to look forward to, you just... what? Enjoy this?"

"Please. Enjoy?" You looked to him again, a pathetic smile on your face, one he couldn't see and you were glad for it. You hadn't exactly had your emotions under control, your distaste for your job manifesting in your mannerisms, but at least you managed to keep your tone steady. "There are things that are fun, sure. Networking events and getting to know my clients... Being in the office isn't a dream. I admit that much, but you do realise not everyone is cut out for hero work? Flashy costumes, saving the day, and what not... Not for me. I'm good at what I do, pays the bills."

"And still no promotion." He added. 

You chuckled despite yourself. You should be offended, but the way he said it... The almost sarcastic tone he used, because he was probably thinking something along the lines of 'Wouldn't be here with me faking a relationship if you had that promotion' made you join in on his grin. "What can I say? I'm really fucking loyal to the company."

You appreciated that he didn't dig deeper. The reason why you remained in your line of work, why that promotion had been so important to you, and how your personal life was practically forced to merge with your career - all remained secret to you. If he had asked you, you probably would have told him things, because at heart, you really were an honest person. But you were glad he didn't.

Maybe he had been glad you hadn't pestered him either after calling out his generic hero answer? Who knew. 

Of course the car ride had been too peaceful. You could have stayed there a bit longer and maybe, you would have started considering him your friend. But then he drove into the restaurant's parking lot and your panic built up once more. 

As he got out, coming over to open the door for you, felt the anxiety rise again. "Not now..." You mumbled to yourself, looking down on your palms as you held them off your lap in fear of burning your outfit.  

Bakugou opened the door for you, offering his hand to you to help you get out. 

You just stared. Eyes wide, full of uncertainty. Fear. 

"I can't do it." You whispered to him. 

The camera's flash going off in the distance and suddenly it was as if the whole world was watching you. 

Chapter Text

Bakugou's hand remained steady - or was time just standing still for you? How many seconds had passed of you staring at him like a deer in headlights? A deer anticipating the hit, but between the time it stood still and the impact, there was eternity. 

An eternity that reminded you that you had not touched another human being in five years. Not even the brush of fingers with a barista handing you your coffee. Not even a bump as you passed through busy streets, sticking to the outskirts of these groups instead. Not even a handshake for your new clients, having to admit to them that you had an odd quirk based on touch and that it would be better to avoid contact. People understood it. After all, it hadn't been some groundbreaking science, especially not for heroes who dealt with quirks going haywire on the daily. 

"I know you don't like asking for help, but an old classmate of mine has started this new quirk counselling program-" Tokoyami, a dear friend of yours, had suggested to you a couple of years back. 

"You're right, I don't like asking for help." You replied and the subject was dropped soon after. You knew that he had meant well, that he just wanted you to live your best possible life, but you could handle yourself. You knew you could handle yourself. He knew you could handle yourself and he refused to push you on this subject without your consent. If you needed help, you would reach out for it - right? 

But Tokoyami was no longer in Japan. And you had not met friends in months because you had thrown yourself into work instead. Because you felt like nobody would understand you anyways. A misconception? The truth? The lines blurred for you.  

And now you were ruining not only your chance at a promotion, but destroying Bakugou's image without wanting to do so. Because who would pull a publicity stunt only to be rejected by their date? The date that agreed to pretend. The date that got use out of this arrangement. If you couldn't pretend to love him, what would the public think of him for not even having an actress capable of loving him? Not that it would be revealed that it was all a hoax. But what if it did come out? What then?

"Your shoe's unbuckled." Bakugou had dropped down on one knee, his hands reaching out for your ankle as he unbuckled the belt at your ankle. He was putting on a show. "Can you turn?" He said and you obliged, still entranced by the situation in which you had found yourself. You lifted your foot a bit not only to make it easier on him but to give a better angle for the cameras as he fixed the belt for you again. "Nice save..." Your voice barely even a whisper and you had not been sure if he had heard you were it not for the barely perceptible nod. 

"There." He said. As he got up, you saw the stain on his knee from burying it into the dirty floor. The heat from your hands dissipated, leaving a freezing cold behind. Bakugou continued. "Come on, can't keep the staff waiting." He said, offering you his arm instead of his hand. 

"Thank you." You told him, managing to bring up a genuine, thankful smile as you got up without his help before hooking your arm under his, your hand dangling off to the side. The clicks of the cameras going off were faint, but they served as a reminder that you were being watched. You couldn't wait to disappear into the darkness of the restaurant. 

The place looked expensive. Half of the wall was covered in dark wood planks of different lengths, giving it an elegant cascading look. White lilies - which you initially assumed were fake - adorned the middle of each table with candles accompanying the already dim lighting. How were they maintaining these live elements? Your question would soon be answered by the limited amount of guests dining in the restaurant and the utmost care that had been put into giving you a pleasant experience. A waiter had been assigned to you, introducing himself and guiding you to your table. Of course... You were seated by the window. 

"We'll be here a while, they allow time for couples to settle in." Bakugou explained to you and you just nodded. 

"But nobody's listening, right?" You asked.

He shook his head. "The tables are far enough apart and the waiters will keep away. The glass is thick but serves as a perfect window for any photographers to catch pictures when needed."

"Seems like you've pulled these stunts before." You joked, helping your nerves. 

"You'd be surprised how much PR training you have to go through as a hero."

"And yet your rating sucks." You teased. 

He grinned. "Getting déjà-vu to our car ride from before. Something about no promotions?"

You rolled your eyes at him, finally allowing yourself to have a moment to breathe. The waiter brought the two of you some water, offering the menu as well as a wine card. A forced smile found its way onto your lips as you waited for the personnel to walk away again so that you could turn your panic to Bakugou. "I can't afford this!" You hissed at him, hoping you didn't look as stressed as you felt. 

There were cameras. 

You shouldn't forget. 

"I'm paying, dumbass." He commented. "Order whatever you want."

"I can't let you do that... Isn't this a bit much?"

"Anything for that number one spot."

You sighed, remaining quiet for the time being. You did not wish to start another argument, especially not after he had helped you out so heroically just moments before. Where was the wine Bakugou just ordered? You could really use something to wash down the anxiety. 

The menu was limited and frankly, something you had never seen before. On behalf of the company, you invited clients to grab lunch or dinner with you so you could discuss recruitment plans and portfolios with them, but even then, it had not been as fancy as the unknown food you were faced with. Somehow, you felt underdressed. What had Bakugou said? 'Dress like you would for work'? Never trust a guy to know how to dress properly for different occasions - lesson learned. 

"How long have you been struggling with your quirk?" Bakugou asked out of the blue.

You almost choked on your wine. "You couldn't have asked while I wasn't drinking...? Fuck." You huffed out, wiping your chin with the provided towel, checking if you had spilled anything on your clothing. "It's not exactly something I'd like to talk about-"

"You have no choice." He interrupted. "Listen, your damn problems would be yours, except we're dating. And I feel I have the right to know what the fucking issue is so we can avoid looking like fucking morons because you can't hold my hand."

The right to know... You almost scoffed. Because he had been right. You did owe him an ounce of truth, even if your mind fought against it. 

"I don't need to know all the details, just enough to understand your quirk. If we can't touch, then we gotta figure out something else."

You pressed your lips together, nodding. "Yeah..." You sighed, looking down. Shame. You shouldn't be feeling such a mix of guilt and shame, and yet you did. Because this wasn't supposed to be as difficult as it turned out to be. The cameras should not be bothering you as much as they did, because you were used to recording your life for the sake of the company. After all, you took notes of everything you did, kept reports on your numbers, your absences, your holidays taken, your hours of sleep per week - all for the sake of improving for your workplace. How would it be any different if you were suddenly posted online? 

Very. 

You were just always trying to convince yourself that things were not as bad as you made them out to be. 

Or were they that bad and you were just blinded by your goals?

"So?" Bakugou tapped against the table to grab your attention. 

"Sorry, yeah..." You looked up at him. "Listen, I should have talked to you about this earlier and I'm sorry I didn't. It's not exactly an easy move to tell someone that I have no control over a quirk that manifested over twenty years ago." You wanted to continue, but were met once again with the difficult task of being honest. You circled your glass, the wine swirling inside as you tried to look for the words to tell him enough without telling too much. If only you had been capable of keeping control as you had promised yourself you would. 

"A friend of mine used to break his bones because of his quirk." Bakugou brought you back from your distant mind. "We went to UA together- Actually, we've known each other since before my quirk manifested."

"Break his bones...?" You repeated. "What do you mean break his bones?"

The subtlest smile - nostalgia - settled on his face. "That idiot would break whichever body part had been affected by his quirk. And you know what the worst part about the whole thing was? He never seemed to care. As long as he saved someone, what was a little pain?"

"A little pain...?" You repeated again, your voice barely above a whisper, imagining the pain the poor guy had to go through just because of his quirk. "Did he... Like, ever manage to not...?" You tried to ask, your mind still stuck in the daydream of a breaking bone. 

"He did. Eventually he figured out how to use his quirk without destroying himself. There was another guy in my class who refused to use one side of his quirk because he hated it so much. Without using it though, he would freeze. Another one who, when he used his quirk too much, would fry his brain temporarily. I still call him 'dunce face'. A girl puked whenever she overexerted herself. Another pro-hero's scalp bled if he pulled too many pieces of... whatever the fuck those balls on his head consist of." Bakugou recounted all these memories and you couldn't help but notice how... at peace he looked. There was no longer a tension in his body, one you had previously not even taken note of, thinking it had been his natural point. But no, he had truly always been somewhat tense, no matter how calm you had thought he had been. "What I'm saying is, every quirk has some sort of drawback. My arms are a damn mess, scorched, dried up if I go all out for too long. So, what are you so fucking ashamed of?"

"I don't-"

"Have you had a chance to look at the menu?" The waiter interrupted. 

Your heads shot towards him, surprised to be so suddenly disrupted, but you nodded. Actually, you had no idea what you were going to order. You just pointed to something on the card that looked digestible to you and prayed that it would taste as good as it had sounded. Not that the title was appetising in the slightest - were odd titles the norm for these types of restaurants. 

"Excellent choice!" The waiter complimented you and you just nodded. Proud. Like a middle schooler who randomly got called on by the teacher after not paying attention and still giving the right answer. 

"So much to giving a couple time." You muttered, a soft laugh escaping you as you turned to look back to Bakugou, an expectant expression on his face. "Fine..." You took another sip of your drink. "My quirk helps me control the temperature of things. It's not like pro-hero Shoto who produces ice and flames, I can't do that. But I can get things to a freezing point or a melting point... Not all of them, some things have a melting point that is higher than my recorded high-"

"Which is?"

"About three hundred degrees celsius."

"And it fluctuates between?"

"Uh... My quirk is unfortunately tied to my emotions, even the slightest switch from feeling 'neutral' heats up my palms or cools them down. If I'm agitated, it rises to a natural point of about seventy degrees and continues rising depending on the situation. Enough to burn someone if they hold onto me for a prolonged time. And if anxiety kicks in... Minus twenty degrees if I'm feeling particularly bad. It's all very fluctuating though which makes it worse, because the human skin is not made to experience these sudden changes." 

Bakugou listened and you almost wanted to insult him for being a nerd for the set of questions that followed. Because why had he been so interested in the properties of your quirk in relation to emittance? How a far could you affect the temperature? Do you need to remain in contact with the object? Have you ever succeeded to perform sublimation on water? 

"Nerd." You eventually did call him. "I have never tried anything other than heating my drinks-"

"Like at the coffee shop?" He asked. 

"Is that when you figured I didn't have control over my quirk?"

"No, I suspected it at the tea that I assume served to heat your hands? Never seen steam disappear so quick." He admitted. 

Had he really been paying such close attention to how you were using your quirk and when? Hell, not even your coworkers ever mentioned your quirk after your initial explanation on what it had been. "That's why I can't touch... anyone."

"You haven't answered my question, though. How long since you've lost control?"

"What if I couldn't control it since I'd been a child?"

"I doubt it. Twenty years of this... I couldn't imagine if my explosions went off every time I grew agitated. This isn't a type of quirk you just sit and accept for twenty years. So, when?"

"Five years ago." You admitted. 

"Why?"

"None of your business." You rebutted. "I owed you an explanation, not a life story."

Bakugou smirked. It seemed like he had been enjoying this conversation far more than you had, but you couldn't understand why. If anything, he should have been pissed. Pissed that you had not been truthful. Pissed that this could jeopardise the whole fake dating story because you would always appear distant next to him, no matter what. But he wasn't. Why wasn't he? That pissed you off in turn.

You had seen him more gleeful throughout the entire experience of the date than during any interaction before. "Do you get off on people's struggles?"

He laughed. You grinned. Managing to make him laugh? You must have been a true magician. "I just find your stupidity amusing."

"Gee, thanks." You rolled your eyes, your amusement disappearing as soon as he opened his mouth. Couldn't the guy just remain friendly for one second? "My bad for not having incredible control-"

"Not that." He shook his head. "How can you work in the recruitment business, analysing people's quirks all day like a maniac, and go on a date with a pro-hero, not knowing his damn abilities? You know I never had a girlfriend, but you don't know how my fucking quirk works? Maybe you really don't deserve that promotion."

Your hands balled into fists. You bit the insides of your cheeks. Who the fuck did he think he is?

Maybe you were a fucking idiot. For thinking the two of you could ever be more than just business partners. "How fucking sweet of you." You struggled out, propping your elbows on the table as you felt the scorching heat in your palms. You were not about to cause a fire in an expensive restaurant. Expensive. Like his car. Like his lifestyle. "And you really don't deserve that number one spot. Acting so high and mighty, you're really no hero, you're just a PR stunt like everybody-"

Bakugou grabbed your hand. You wanted to pull away, but he intertwined your fingers, keeping you locked into place. 

"Nitroglycerin explodes at temperatures above two hundred degrees, dumbass."

The heat kept rising, but your hate receded. 

At what heat does your heart explode?

Chapter Text

Your heart thrummed against your ribcage, begging to escape, while your muscles refused to let go of his hand. A flash outside reminded you that this moment had not been private and even you began to wonder what your eyes were expressing in that moment. Surprise? Appreciation? Relief? Or even panic? Despite the anger that he had provoked out of you dying, another emotion just as strong continued to make its way through your bloodstream. 

You yanked your hand away from his, terrified of the possibility that an explosion might go off. You scanned for any sign of injury that you may have caused, but he seemed entirely unbothered. 

Bakugou cleared his throat, ready to speak, only to be interrupted by the sudden arrival of your meal. Your appetite had left you, your mind stuck on the tingle that had been left behind from... the cooling of your palms? The touch you had shared? "Have a good meal." You told him, resigned. Silence replaced the excitement that had suffocated you just moments before and it continued to haunt you through the food with a few exceptions of 'this is nice' and smiles for those watching outside. Your stomach felt heavy, not even allowing you to enjoy the bliss that your taste buds were meant to feel. 

Why were you so out of it? If anything, you should be feeling delirious from the joy of your quirk not roasting away at his skin. Instead, you felt empty. Your stomach filled, the wine clouded your mind, but you felt hollow. 

"Ah, no, I don't feel like dessert." You told Bakugou when he asked you about it and he nodded, requesting the check instead. "Uh, thanks for taking care of this. I'm sorry, it's a little late. Do you think you could drive me home next?"

Bakugou nodded wordlessly. You thanked the staff for the enchanting experience - albeit you weren't entirely present for most of it - and Bakugou accompanied you to his car, holding onto your hand while another flash went off beside the two of you, followed by multiple camera shutters. Smile. Keep smiling. Continue the strain on your face as the car drives out of the parking. Exhale. Deeply. 

Silence. 

You shivered. Your quirk remained dormant. Maybe just the car's AC? There was no anxiety, no suffocating need to say something, just silence. Eventually, Bakugou turned on the radio, letting at least some music play to help distract you. From what, you didn't know. Typically, your mind was racing, always chasing something and it was doing the same now, but there was no end goal. Going in circles, repeating distant words you did not wish to catch. 

"Thank you for the evening." You told him as he stopped in front of your apartment complex. Bakugou nodded. You reached to open the door and stopped, because you felt like you needed to say something else, but couldn't find the needed words. 

"Do you want me to call it off?" Bakugou asked instead, noticing your hesitation. 

"No. No!" You reassured him. "I... I mean the cameras are weird, and I don't know how I'll fare with the whole social media drama because-"

"You'll be safe." He interrupted. "Was that one of your worries? How the end would look for you? Don't worry, we will not paint you as some fucking villain."

You smiled, trying to repress it for a moment as you replayed his words mentally, only to offer him a softer smile, brows furrowed at his reassurance. "You're oddly perceptive." You commented. That had been your worry, the reason you were about to call the whole thing off in the morning, but you never brought it up. You felt stupid about it and thinking back, you couldn't figure out why you had felt stupid about it. You could've just brought it up and ended the anxious torment. "I've been wondering... Why didn't you just call it off? Not for me, but for yourself. I haven't been honest with you and I've done nothing but make things more difficult, I don't understand... Why?"

Bakugou scoffed, the back of his head hitting his seat as he looked on ahead, arms crossed. "I don't have the time to look for someone else." He said, slowly, as if he hadn't been so sure over his own words. "Either way, wouldn't be very heroic to leave you hanging after agreeing to help, no? I'm not that big of an asshole."

"But you agree you're kind of an ass?" You responded, unable to help the smirk.

Bakugou's eyes looked at you, while he didn't move, pressing his lips together as they formed a smile. "You're not so golden, yourself." He looked on ahead again. "But I can't dislike you for that. It's more interesting than to pay some actress to go on these stupid dates with me."

"The food was nice." You commented.

"Fuck, are these places fake though." He groaned. So he hadn't been used to moving in these circles either? Had the choice been with management?

"Fake places for fake relationships. Seems fitting?" You rebutted. "Well, what's next...?"

"The pics go online, maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow. Rumours will start, people will check your socials. It's a good thing you're not very active, we could barely find anything about you."

"I don't like for people to know me outside of work."

"You're kinda stuck-up, do you know that?" He asked. 

You smiled. Somehow, when he wasn't actively trying to be an ass, his insults did not actually pack a punch. His honesty... You understood how he had built his fanbase. "So I've been told."

"We'll need to confirm the rumours, but first, we'll go on another date." He continued, a smile now remaining on his face. You couldn't help but notice that, despite the only light being provided by the street lamp above the car, his cheeks had been a little flush. The wine? Couldn't be, he was driving? But maybe that was just his anatomy? "Next date would be an outing in a busier part of the city."

You nodded. "Got it. Do you..." Was it the alcohol that made you so silly for asking? Or were you truly asking a silly question? Before you even asked, you fixed your hair, tugged at your shirt to make sure it looked proper. "Do you think people will like me...?"

There was a fleeting look of judgment on Bakugou's eyes, one that was soon replaced with understanding with a tinge of confidence. "Yeah" was all he answered but it was enough to put your worries to rest. At least for the time being. 

"We should go for a beer, by the way." You told him as you stood outside the open car door. "Less posh than that restaurant. You think you can convince your manager to go to my favourite bar?"

Bakugou nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

"Good night, Bakugou." You closed the door, not knowing if he had answered you. 

You went to bed with your makeup on. Your body - your soul - dragged you towards the comfortable confines of the darkness of your room, needing to remove yourself from reality for a while. Of course, the thought of removing your makeup, following your routine, getting undressed, had persisted... until you fell asleep, drifting into a dreamless sleep. You had needed it. And the wine had provided it. 

The next morning, your phone was off. The battery had died. And it was for the better. You needed to shake yourself awake, to shake the unease off your shoulders and take care of yourself before diving into the world of social media. "Ugh..." You grumbled seeing your stained face in the mirror. "No, no, no." Each word escaped you with more fervour. Because why had you distanced yourself from your core values? Where had your control been? Your plan? "Makeup off, shower, breakfast, coffee, prep for tomorrow." You went over the list over and over again through the steps up until the last one. 

Control. Something about Bakugou had prevented you from acting like yourself. To be collected. Calm. In charge of things. Instead, all rationale faded.

When you had opened your door for him, you had forgotten about your worries that kept you from functioning properly just moments before.

When you had gotten into the car with him, suddenly you wanted to know more about him, despite telling yourself that such a thing wouldn't be necessary. All you needed to do was to pretend. And if you found things out about him that were irritating, how would you be able to pretend to be in love with him? 

When he had helped you out when you had frozen in the car and when he had grabbed your hand, you wanted to cuss him out rather than thank him. Because why did he understand your situation so well? A situation you were convinced you could high? Why had he not just called things off?

And, why the fuck was he so perceptive? 

"He's not my soulmate." You repeated to yourself as you dropped onto the couch with your coffee in hand. "Stupid quirk. Lying quirk. Scam quirk." 

And yet, when you opened your laptop, the first thing you researched was the soulmate service you had consulted before meeting Bakugou. 

'Consult the list of couples who got married after using the service!'

'Click here for interviews of our happy couples!'

'Read our reviews below!'

Reviews. On every website you consulted, every review was positive. You tried to filter them out, find people confirming that the whole thing had been a massive scam and that they went through the worst relationship of their lives. Nothing. Happy couples getting married. No divorces. No heartbreak. "Ugh!" You groaned again, shutting down all the webpages. "Must have paid a lot of money to keep these websites from negative reviews..." You grumbled, instead deciding to focus on preparing your game plan for the week. Organising CVs. Checking your meeting agenda. Comparing reports. 

Tsuji's name popped up in the corner of your screen. 

**Tsuji:** Dynamight, huh?

Shit. You did not have the mental capacity to deal with him. Not with the whole storm of rumours that were about to follow your name. 

**Tsuji:** I don't know how the boss will feel about that. Isn't he one of your clients?

You clucked your tongue. 

**You:** Never entered a contract with him. 

**Tsuji:** Really? 

**You:** Yup - wouldn't date a client, of course.

With that you ignored the rest of the messages that flooded in, muting the chats as you tried to focus on your plans. Except, the thought of your pictures having been posted online for the world to see kept nagging at you. "Just a look..." You said after you had already typed 'Dynamight' into the search bar. 

'Has Dynamight gone soft?'

'Leaked photos of Dynamight with unknown woman - date or business?'

'Fans speculate Dynamight is dating after leaked pictures shared online!'

Just a look? Bullshit. 

"Holy shit-" You mumbled, interrupting yourself as you read through the articles. 

One paragraph said: 

'Has Dynamight official gone soft? Eyewitnesses report seeing the pro-hero on a romantic outing with an unknown woman. Not only did he stain his pants after a romantic gesture of fixing her shoe buckle, they were later seen intertwining fingers with a loving look exchanged between them!'

"Loving look?" You repeated, sceptic. All you could see was your own panic and his shit-eating grin taunting you for not realising your quirk would not be a bother to him. 

Another paragraph read:

'Some fans speculate that the pro-hero seems to indeed have fallen in love! With tweets stating 'I have never seen the guy smile if murder wasn't involved' while others added 'Dynamight doing something nice? The guy's whipped.' While nothing is confirmed, it is clear that the two of them seem to be very close. One question still stands: Who is the mystery woman and how has she managed to tame the beast we all know and love as 'Dynamight'?'

"Pff. Tame the beast?" You scoffed, sinking further into your couch, your laptop propped flat against your thighs as you continued scrolling through various articles. 

'PR Stunt or Genuine Lovers? This is the question that is currently splitting opinions! While one side of the pro-hero fandom seems to deem this just a poor stunt pulled by Dynamight to up his ratings, loyal fans stand in support of their favourite hero, claiming that lying about a relationship is not Dynamight's style. While we patiently await statements from Dynamight - or any pro-hero really! - our curiosity grows! Who is the mystery woman? And why has she never made another appearance before?'

You shut your laptop, unable to take the influx of tweets that started to haunt your screen. People speculating, debating, hating, loving, neutral - the article had been right about one thing definitely! The internet was split. 

And so were you. 

"Not dealing with it." You told yourself as you turned on your TV, going for any show that could distract you. Except everything was romance. And if it wasn't romance and it was comedy making you think about how he made you laugh. And if it wasn't comedy it was action and you did not feel like watching heroes being heroes. And if it wasn't... Nothing worked for you. 

You plugged your phone in, hoping you could play a nonsensical game as you just let some documentary of wildlife play, but instead you were met with... 

"Yami?" You read his name. "Oh shit, how could I forget..?"

**Yami:** Call me when you're available, please.

Right. He had been Bakugou's classmate. 

Chapter Text

"You're dating Bakugou?" Tokoyami asked as soon as he had picked up the phone - no 'hello', no 'how are you', no 'oh my god, it's been a while, how are the wife and kids?'

"Is that F/N?" Dark Shadow's voice came low through your speakers, but Tokoyami just shushed her. "Can you say hello from me?"

"Hi Yami, hi Dark Shadow." You greeted both of them, already skipping over his question, because frankly, you didn't even know how to explain it to him. "I hope I didn't call at a bad time... Uh, what time is it for you guys anyways?"

"Nine in the morning." Tokoyami answered. 

"I keep forgetting how far back the U.S. is right now." You continued the small talk, but you knew Yami was getting impatient and would not entertain your shenanigans for all too long. In fact, he didn't even need to say anything before you caved. "Ugh, Yami, I'm really not up for this right now..." You complained. "No, I'm not actually dating him."

"Then what's the whole thing about?" He asked. 

You wiggled lower into your bed, your head no longer on your pillow, resting on your mattress instead as you stared at your ceiling. Had there always been a stain up there? It looked like a flower, almost, and you found it amusing enough that you might not even consider covering it up. Oh - your lights had been very dusty too, you should definitely not neglect cleaning them. And while you were thinking about it-

"Focus." Yami's voice was lightly distorted through your phone, but you got the message loud and clear. 

"Do you believe in soulmates?" You asked, propping yourself up, just to turn around and plop back onto your stomach. "Like seriously, really, with conviction believe in soulmates?"

Tokoyami and you had become friends three years prior when you had been reached out to by Hawks Agency for a potential partnership. When Tokoyami had shown up to meet you, you had not thought much of him - another client, that was all. Except, you got talking, and somehow you continued staying in touch outside of business matters. You couldn't even remember the first ever conversation that you had shared, all you remembered had been the lack of change in your palms. A calm that had settled over you. 

Tokoyami had not been fond of cameras. In fact, most of his work he completed outside of the public eye and so he had become known as somewhat of a mystery hero, despite his relatively high ranking. People enjoyed the shroud of secrets that surrounded him - however, people were really big fans of Dark Shadow's contrasting positivity, possibly adding to Tokoyami's popularity. 

After just a couple of weeks, you had realised that you had always needed a Tokoyami and Dark Shadow Duo in your life. It wasn't that you guys hung out that often either, maybe that was how you escaped being posted in public too much. 

That and, well, your friendship had never been a PR stunt. 

But when you did hang out, there was never any judgment. You could just have a moment, complaining about life, let it all go, and he did the same. That was how your friendship had started, evolving into sharing the same interests so you could continue talking. While he was away, he had sent you some shows to watch - "I think you would enjoy Severance very much." - while you begged him to get into some of your movies - "Ever considered watching some Nolan movies?"

He had been right. You really enjoyed Severance. 

"Soulmates, huh?" Tokoyami said. "I see, you used that one service, didn't you?"

"Not my question."

"If the quirk is true, then I don't see why not." He admitted, but hummed as his thought continued. "However... I don't think we can just meet a person and love all of them without investing the time to get to know one another. Soulmates or not... Being made for one another or not. It doesn't take away from the experience,"

"Hm..." You dropped your head back into your pillow, needing a moment in the darkness. 

"But you two aren't dating?" He asked. 

"No... Not really." You confirmed once again, explaining the whole situation to him from your first meeting with Bakugou to the proposition, the first date, and now the internet drama that had been fuelled by it. 

Tokoyami listened, even Dark Shadow seemed exceptionally quiet. "Pulling a stunt like this... That doesn't sound like Bakugou, I'm not going to lie to you. Do you know why he is doing it?"

That was not the first time it was mentioned and you started questioning Bakugou's motives. "He wants to boost his rating in the hero charts."

"And he's trying to do so via..." Tokoyami's voice trailed off and you could hear Dark Shadow mumbling something, but not catching what exactly had been said. Skepticism. You could hear it as Tokoyami continued to speak, his words careful, thoughtful, because he was trying to keep you safe. From what? "You should call this thing off."

Your head shot up.  "What? Yami, I can't just call it off, we went public!" 

"You haven't confirmed the rumours." He reminded you.

"I know, but... I really need that promotion. I need to prove to my boss that I am down to earth, human, that I am not just a robot who pulls numbers, but who also pulls guys!" You groaned, burying part of your face back in the cool confines that were your pillow. "I know it sounds really stupid. But it's my best shot at showing that... well that I care. And I can't waste away another year waiting for an opportunity. There's no other jobs I can take in this area of expertise and I don't want to have to start from scratch in building my portfolio..."

Tokoyami sighed, loud enough for the mic to pick it up. "When would you know if you got the promotion?"

"Beginning July definitely."

"And then you'll quit this?" He asked. 

Why was he so adamant about you abandoning the Bakugou? It wasn't like a break up would hurt. It wasn't real. And Bakugou promised to keep you safe when the whole shitstorm would pass through. "That's what we agreed." You told him. But why would it need to be that way? You could just stay friends with Bakugou, if he also agreed. Why was everything so definite?

"Good..." Hesitation. "Bakugou's not a bad guy. But I don't like that he is using you for this scheme-"

"I'm using him as well, remember?"

"But it is not his style. That's what worries me. Did the idea come from him?"

"Uh, no, his management..."

"Keep your distance to him, alright?"

Ice cold. You felt your energy drain. "Yeah. Uh, Yami-"

"Gotta go. I'll be back in August, alright?"

"Bye bye, miss you!" Dark Shadow's muffled voice came through. 

Beep. And the phone call was over. 

"Man, what the hell!" You groaned, throwing your phone off to the side as you sunk back into your mattress, your hands covering your face. From one deep dive into the internet to this mess of a conversation. 

You understood Yami's worries. You really did. After all, you had joined in on a scheme that propelled your image into the online world and a lot of judgment would be passed onto you depending on the fake actions you performed. And Yami had known Bakugou. He understood the type of person that Bakugou was and in turn, you understood that he might be worried you could get hurt in more than one way.

'Bakugou's not a bad guy'. 

Did Yami have to specify that? Because he had been right. Bakugou truly was not a bad guy. In fact, you found him to be pleasant to be around and what you had once wanted - breaking all contact off after the fake breakup - was no longer the only option you considered. You found that Bakugou was surprisingly mindful. That he was a listener when you could barely classify yourself as a talker. That he was... attractive. Not that it mattered. Except, your mind was stuck on his stupidly messy hair that framed his face perfectly. Or the way he had rolled up his sleeves. Or the way... "I need a shower." You interrupted your train of thought. 

As you got out of it, you felt a lot better. The steam hit your mirror and you were glad it covered your reflection. Your phone vibrated next to the sink. "What now?" You sighed. 

Bakugou: Work address

"Oh, we're not doing this again." You rolled your eyes. 

You: Why?

Bakugou: Thursday after work. 

Bakugou: Happy hour.

"Happy hour, huh?" You grinned, feeling your excitement rise as well as an ease around you. No fancy restaurant you couldn't afford. A bar that offered second drinks for free? Right up your alley - well, right up your wallet. 

You: K. 

You wondered if he would do requests as well? 

You: Selfie?

Bakugou only responded with a question mark reacting to your message. 

You: Gotta prove we're a legit couple to people somehow? Couples have pictures of each other. 

An attached picture. 

Patrol on a Sunday? Late at night? You hadn't even been aware he had those. It seemed that the patrol had just gotten done. His mask was lifted to push his hair back, a strand drooping down only to add to the effect. He looked tired - not from lack of sleep, but from the hard work he had put in. You found yourself staring for a while, his eyes lowered just enough to show that he had been looking at himself when taking the picture and not at the camera. The slight shake, distorting the details around him... 

Had he sent you the first picture he had taken?

You wanted to respond, but you left it at a thumbs-up reaction. Either way, telling him he looked good may have turned out a bit much. 

But then you remembered how he had said 'no need to pretend' and you almost felt insulted. You had not pretended.

You: Thx, looking good

And you regretted ever sending the message off. At the very least, the flustered feeling had helped you in warming up your tea without taking the kettle out.

Your quirk could be useful.

Occasionally. 

You woke up more tired than you had ever felt before. You could barely make it through the night, everything small keeping you up. A low whirring that had always been present in your room from... god knows where. The cars passing by in the middle of the night. The wind hitting your window. Bakugou's face. 

Sometime in the middle of the night, you checked the message once more, only to see that Bakugou had left you on read. "Ugh..." You groaned, unsure whether to feel annoyed or embarrassed. 

When you got into work, later than usual, having had a very sluggish start into your day, you were met with two types of excitements: 

"You're dating Dynamight!"

And

"You're later than usual."

In your book, the second part should have been a lot more exciting to them, considering that since starting the job, you had ever been later than exactly eight a.m twice. Once, because the street had been closed due to a villain attack. Once, because you had been up too late seeing Tokoyami off for his trip to the States. 

"How come you and Dynamight are a thing?" Jelena was the first to breach the topic. She was a sweet woman from Europe who had married a Japanese guy and decided to take her HR skills and apply them to a smaller agency. Of all your coworkers, you tolerated her the most, because despite her coming off as somewhat pushy, she had at least always carried herself with honesty. 

"We met via friends." You lied. They didn't need to know about the soulmate service. "And hit things off, I guess."

"So he's that mystery man you've been dropping hints about, hm?" She hummed, leaning in as you were just trying to set your things up and disappear as you usually did on Mondays. 

The conversation, however, quickly came to a halt as Tsuji dropped a gift onto your desk. You were about to complain, state that it does not comply with corporate rules, but he spoke before you could say anything.

"Some kid sent this in. Something about an interview with the Genius Office." Tsuji explained - Jeez, he was in a mood. Grumbling. Dropping on his chair. Actually focussing on his work. 

You loved it. 

To the gift, a message was attached. 'Thank you for the opportunity, I greatly appreciate it!' 

Then you saw the email you had received Friday evening, unopened, from the Genius Office. "Holy shit." You whispered. They loved the candidate. So much so they already confirmed the offer to him. On a sticky note, you quickly noted down 'Go over best offer practices with clients', because they needed go pass through you. 

There was a shit ton of paperwork involved in making an offer and finalising the process, after all. 

But fuck all that - they liked him. No additional round, no 'Are you sure about the candidate?', no talks about budget regarding the candidate's salary expectations. The same damn day and they wanted an offer out.

'Keep up the good work! We weren't so sure with the recent candidate pool, but this is exactly what we're looking for. Meeting this week to discuss further?' had been added at the end of the email. 

You had thought you owed Bakugou a beer because you had felt a bit guilty over letting him take care of all the costs of the date. 

You definitely owed him the most magical date of his life, because he had given you the best advice ever. 

Not that you would tell him. 

His ego didn't need any more boosts from you. 

But maybe you could convince him to join the world of HR?

Tokoyami's words popped into your mind. 'Keep your distance.'

But what was one outing with just a friend?

Chapter Text

Crowded spaces were not your thing. Crowded spaces with designated tables, separated from others by half-walls while everybody else stood around you were more up your lane. Having a table in a corner that was furthest away from the bar and speakers was just your thing. Even if you had to suffer through being right next to the toilet. You win some you lose some. 

"No cams this time?" You asked Bakugou, your date for the evening - or for any evening you went out, really. 

"They took the pics outside, can't really come in and bother us here." He responded. His back had been turned to the crowd behind him to avoid being recognised too easily. Though, his most recognisable features, the tousled blonde hair and unique scar on his face, remained visible. 

Nobody gave a shit. 

It was happy hour after all. 

And you and Bakugou had already downed six beers between each other, you only having paid for two as the other two were free for the hour. 

"Another round?" He asked you.

You still had work the next day. "Sure, why not?" You said with a grin, handing him money. "My treat, don't forget." Self-control had been thrown out the window. You worked from home, so what would another beer really do to you?

Because you just needed that. Your boss had called you into his office just that morning, after having returned from a business trip, to talk to you about your rumoured relationship. It had felt like a police investigation. One that you had initially gone proudly into. Only, your boss expressed concern - Is he one of our clients? Do we have any documents that relate to Dynamight and employment relating to him? Any administrative workers sent to his company? Directors? Even janitors? For two hours, you pulled out each and every proof that you and Dynamight had never crossed paths professionally. 

The fake dating plan was not going according to plan on your side of the coin. But it was not all doomed. Because your boss had wished you all the best for the relationship - in a cold, obligatory manner. A win is a win. 

At least on social media the rumours were doing well with curiosity only growing as people essentially yearned for you to come out and state you were dating Japan's menace. 

"Thank you!" You said with a tune as you took your pint, dreading the next few gulps as you already felt a little woozy from the heat inside. Nor had your meal been very filling, leaving you with a stomach ready to burn. "So, what is your most hated part of being a pro-hero? And don't say 'Oh the people I couldn't save'" - you added a particularly mocking tone to that - "What's the thing that keeps you from getting up in the morning?"

"Paperwork." Bakugou responded and you chuckled at the disgust in his face. Truly unpleasant to be thrown into administrative work. 

"I'm glad I have people doing my paperwork for me." You said. "At least the most annoying parts of it."

"You work in corporate, every part of your job is annoying." Bakugou highlighted. 

You rolled your eyes. "Let's not have these conversations every time. I told you, there's aspects of my job that are nice."

"Like?"

"The pralines I got from the intern that got hired." 

"Ass-kisser, huh?"

"Better than an ungrateful boyfriend like you- Hey!"

Bakugou grabbed your beer, taking a few swigs before returning a half-empty glass back to you. And you were glad for it. You couldn't have taken the entire pint on your own and surprisingly, Bakugou seemed to take alcohol very well. 

"Beer ruins your workout regime, by the way." You commented. 

"I'm aware. Cheat day." He responded. "Your corporate job sucks, but we've got some bastards to handle in the agency as well. I'm glad it's a bar this time around, at least I don't have to sit around pretending to be in love."

Your hands cooled off at the comment and you didn't understand why you felt hollow hearing those words. Why would you care how he felt about you? You knew perfectly well what kind of emotions were involved in your little fake dating scheme. And yet, the sudden chill emanating from you told a different story. "Your manager pushing ideas you don't like?"

Bakugou looked at you with a sense of... relief? Understanding? Like you knew something he had hoped for you to know, but now that you revealed it to him, he got to admit secrets that were never really secret in the first place. 

"We're between us." You reassured him. "We might have been 'dating' for only a couple of days, but god damn... We're in the same boat. So say what you fucking think. If I'm forced to be honest to you, then I am forcing you to be honest too."

A playful scoff came from him as he leaned in closer, clearly letting go of whatever had been making him so tense. And yet, he clung to some of that stress. As if it were keeping him alive. Because what you had seen at the restaurant - the calm nostalgia that had overtaken him - was nowhere to be seen. "Those fuckers keep coming up with the wildest ideas. You up for a couples photoshoot?" He asked.

You furrowed your brows, your lips pursed, as you shook your head in disgust. "Ugh, no, leave me out of those things. It's not my world and I don't think it ever will be."

"It's not mine either."

Holy - you hadn't expected the sudden drop in pretence from him, casually interrupted by another gulp of his beer as to him, it was like the conversation had ended. Not to you. With the liquid confidence cursing through your veins, you simply had to push. 

"Why are you doing this?" You asked.

A raise of his brow.

"The whole... I don't know, persona? Why are you trying to bring your ratings up when until now you've been so... Genuine, I guess. It never seemed so important to you to sell a story as much as this one."

Bakugou leaned back, the cheer creaking loud enough that it could be heard over the crowd and music. "Why have you lost control over your quirk?"

"Why are you deflecting?"

"You're asking something personal, I got the damn right to do the same."

"I owed you an explanation for my quirk, I think it's only fair you explain why you're doing all this shit. You know why I need a boyfriend, but I don't know why you need a girlfriend just as bad." You argued. 

"Then why the fuck is that promotion so important to you?"

While you were bickering, you had leaned closer over the table, your thirst for a fight growing and you believed his did as much. Your eyes did not diverge from one another, fixated on the target as if you were about to go for the final hit. You smirked. He returned it. "Fine, truce." You said, raising your hands. "I'll tell you part of why the promotion is important and you tell me part of why you want your ratings up."

"Go on." He nodded. 

"Swear on it."

"For fuck's sake. I swear." Bakugou said with a roll of his eyes. 

"Pinky promise?"

"Don't push it. You find one person you can touch and you try to pull contact every time?"

"Ouch, nasty." You commented, grinning with your tongue stuck between your teeth. "I wanna leave this job." You admitted. "I want to open my own agency, expand on my ideas, because what I'm doing now... That repetitive hiring of the same types of heroes... I'm limiting myself. And the promotion comes with a co-director status. I will be involved in processes, be in contact with more stakeholders, have a say in the development of the company, and not only be tied to the recruitment part of it."

Bakugou nodded along as you explained, pursing his lips in acknowledgement. "Fair enough."

"Your turn."

"I need more money. Higher ratings, more sponsorships, more money."

"I thought this world wasn't for you? Are you openly a hypocrite?" You joked. 

"You're looking for a promotion to quit your job? Sounds pretty fucking hypocritical to me." He rebutted, swaying his head from side to side as he enunciated each word. "I hate that world, yes. But the way you rely on your work, I rely on this... The higher my rating, the more willing brands are to collaborate."

"What do you need the money for, Mr. Porsche?" You asked. 

"A friend." He responded and you knew that would be the end of that conversation. He finished his beer while you struggled through the last gulps of yours, your hunger growing and you started to feel sick from the drinks. 

You wanted to propose going to grab some food, away from the crowd, and more importantly, shaking off the cameras that would inevitably follow you. Except, before you could even open your mouth, a voice called out from a distance and you had to lift your hands. Nobody liked a burning table.

"F/N, it's so nice to see you out of the office for once!" Tsuji said, approaching your table and you just forced a smile up at him, hoping that this conversation would end as soon as it had started. 

"Tsuji! What are you doing here?" You asked, trying not to push the sound through your teeth, but actually come across as nice as you possibly could.

What the fuck was he doing there?

You had specifically requested to go to one of your favourite bars, because it had been the closest to your home, meaning you could avoid any coworkers showing up. Tsuji had asked you to go out together - as per usual - and you had let him know that you already had plans with your boyfriend. 

Had he figured out where the two of you would go?

"Oh, you know, after work drinks." He commented. "But where are my manners! You must be Dynamight, no? I must say it was a surprise to see the recent news and discover that the secret boyfriend she has been hiding from us had been a pro-hero all along. And one of such an esteem as yourself, it is an hono-"

"Do you always talk so much?" Bakugou interrupted, ignoring the hand that Tsuji had been offering to him.

"Hm, well." Tsuji pulled his hand back, putting it in his pocket as he turned back to you. You almost didn't notice, your smile directed at Bakugou for the way he had treated your coworker. Mental note - pay for the food as well. "So how long have you two been together now?"

Shit. Oh no. You were about to answer, but Tsuji obviously wanted to hear it from Bakugou. It had never occurred to you to set up a proper dating timeline with Bakugou, because you assumed you would follow whatever would be said on social media. Because you had never considered that Tsuji would follow you all the way to this bar, asking the two of you about your dating life. Because once again, you had shut down your meticulous planning for what? Going with the flow? The way Bakugou had lived his life?

You hid your hands under the table, scared of the effect that the drop in temperature would do. 

"Feels like an eternity." Bakugou joked and you noticed how that had been the first time he had spared a look for Tsuji. "But I guess it's been a little over a month now?"

You had to refrain from whispering 'Thank god' at his genius answer. You tapped Bakugou's leg with your foot, giving him a grateful smile as he shot you a quick look and you caught the light nod he gave you. "Um, Tsuji, actually we were about to go grab some food. It was good talking to you, though." You butted in as soon as you saw Tsuji open his mouth again. Grabbing your bag after putting on your coat, you were glad for the barrier that Bakugou created between the two of you. 

The look in Tsuji's eyes was full of skepticism, certainly noticing your hesitation, the way you took a moment to grab Bakugou's hand because you were not used to the motion. The way there was a tension that should not exist within a couple that was ready to go fully public with their relationship. 

And there was a tension between Bakugou and him that you could not have foreseen. Yes, Tsuji had been an incredibly irritating person that made your blood boil and your laptop overheat whenever he texted you, but anybody around him would just nod and ignore. Even Bakugou, as confrontational as you had judged him to be, was usually a lot more composed, because his life condemned him to be.

But Bakugou was looking for a fight. One that was different from the arguments you started with one another for shits and giggles. He had puffed his chest in a way that was just begging to prove himself. 

"Hey, isn't that Dynamight?" You heard a voice just a few steps away from you. 

"Nah- Wait, you might be right?" 

People leaning in closer to have a good look. 

It didn't occur to you that not only did Tsuji have a flushed face - how many drinks were downed that night? - but even Bakugou seemed affected by the fire that was driving through his veins. 

"Well, all the best to the new couple." Tsuji said, loud enough that his voice travelled over the music. "Don't want this to come out as just some old PR stunt?"

Phones held up as they took pictures of you. From the side, the back, in front of you - you had nowhere to hide. But Bakugou remained in place, not pulling you away, despite your grip tightening on his hand as your panic rose, the heat following suit. Instead, he pulled his hand away and you looked up at him, worried of what might come next. 

An arm draped around your shoulders. 

The red on your face deepening - as if you had not been feeling hot enough already. 

Your eyes interlocked for only a fleeting moment. 

Before you felt his lips on yours. 

No hesitation as he leaned into you. 

No hesitation when he pulled away, kissing your temple to really rub the situation into everybody's faces. 

No hesitation as he leaned in to whisper a quick apology into your ear.

And you kept wondering. 

Was it really all just a stunt?

Chapter Text

Running from the cameras was one thing. Running while you were a couple beers deep with an empty stomach was another thing. Running while Bakugou was dragging you along after he had kissed you so suddenly was an amalgamation of conflicting emotions you did not care to explore at that moment. 

"I think we shook them off." Bakugou whispered, his breath heavy as he had pulled you into a dark alleyway. You were so close to him you could feel his body heat and it made your mind go crazy. 

"Mhm." You hummed, looking out into the light to make sure there was nobody around on either side of the street. 

Bakugou had kissed you. Not just a quick peck to the cheek - though he did add one to your temple after already making you flustered as hell - but his lips soft against yours, while he kept you close with a casual arm draped around your shoulders. And you hated how much you had enjoyed that moment. The expression on Tsuji's face, disbelief, shock... Disgust. Oh how you wanted to kiss Bakugou again just to rub it in. Or that was what you had been telling yourself. 

"Come." You said, grabbing him by his hand again, almost addicted to touching him, as you pulled him along this time around. "I know just the god-forsaken place that would be open at this time."

A ramen place you frequented when you had just started working, living pay check to pay check as your rent at the time had still been adjusted to your old, better paying job. But you refused to move. So you sucked it up for a couple months until your hiring commissions started flowing in and you managed to set up a proper savings account for yourself. 

That ramen place had gotten you through it. A small shop not far from your apartment - actually, just around the corner - with a soft, orange glow coming from within and the savoury scent of pork chops and broth. 

The owner was a kind old man who refused to retire, because as he had explained to you once, if he could make at least one person happy with his food, he would keep going. He was more heroic than many of the pros you had met in recent times. 

"Is that you, Miss L/N? Have the times gotten worse again?" He asked, his aged voice befitting of his small stature. 

"Not to worry, Mr. Kuga!" You spoke louder, knowing that his hearing had no longer been the best. "I just missed your cuisine! I'm here with a friend!" You dragged Bakugou in.

"Sit sit, I'll make you your favourite!" Mr. Kuga said, leading you to a table. "And you?" He asked, turning to Bakugou. The one thing that was also important to know about the ramen shop owner was that he would not bother to learn your name unless you proved that you needed his ramen. It was an odd thing, but you did not judge him for it. Somehow, you just felt special, even if him knowing your name came from days of depressive eating due to your lack of money. 

"Just make it spicy." Bakugou responded in his usual tone and you wondered how Mr. Kuga would take the sharp tone. 

Not at all. He turned around, heading into the storage to grab his things.

"Nice little thing, this place." Bakugou said, looking around at all the odd decoration that had been plastered over the whole place. From posters, lucky charms, magazines, and figurines, there was not a single surface that looked empty. 

"Gotten me through some tough times." You admitted. 

Bakugou studied your expression for a moment. "You know... I prefer you when you act like an actual human being."

Were you meant to be offended by this statement? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? "I prefer you when you're not an ass. Can't have it all, can we?"

"That's what I mean." He grinned, subtly, but still enough to put that heat back into your hands, the memory of his kiss fresh in your memory. "Sometimes you act... shit, like a robot."

"You'd be surprised how little I've been acting like one lately..." You admitted, tugging at the peeling plastic of the small menu that you had taken from the other table. "Like, no spreadsheet for this whole dating thing? Who even am I?"

"Ah, you're that type of person?"

"Like it wasn't fucking obvious?" You said with a light smile and furrowed brows, ridiculing that he would ever consider otherwise. "You know, Tsuji..." You didn't actually know how to start the topic of your private life. Of your work life. Both had become the same thing, really. 

"What is up with that ass, anyways? Is he the type of person you hang out with after work?"

"Fuck no, I don't hang out with anybody." You admitted, accidentally. Pathetically. "I mean... Like..." You tried to saving grace, but there was absolutely no redemption to confessing you had no friends. "I got like one good friend and an additional one through the existence of the first one. But they're not here, so I've been pretty - fucking - lonely." A chuckle and a sigh escaped you, both only adding to how sad your life had come across. 

And once again, there was no judgment in his eyes. Sometimes you wondered if Bakugou just didn't care about anything you ever said or if it had just been his nature to be the least judgmental person on the planet. 

You scratched your temple, played with your hair, anything to keep yourself occupied. 

Way to make things awkward. 

"The stunt from before-"

"Don't make it more awkward than it is, man." You raised your hand to stop him from speaking. "I've told you, we're in the same boat and knowing we can touch without issues, I'm fine with selling the story as best as we can." 

You couldn't believe the shit you were telling him - or more yourself - either. You were trying your hardest to pull out the way you speak to your friends, friendly, loose, unbothered. Because you did not want to reveal just how bothered you were by the whole situation. Because you didn't want to admit just how badly you wanted to kiss him again. 

"We're on the same page then." He commented. 

And it tore at you. You didn't need to feel your palms, because your heart told you enough. 

Soulmates, huh? 

"You know, I've been curious about one thing..." You started and he just nodded for you to go on. "I know you said that an actress would be boring, somebody who just follows scripted lines... Ah that's not the point of my question. Sorry, I'm tired- Anyways." You were starving, tired, and still had enough alcohol left in your bloodstream to talk nonsense you actually wanted to talk about. None of that personally scripted type of conversation you kept with your coworkers. The way you had been trying to speak to Bakugou because you wanted to keep your distance. But you couldn't. "Do you even believe in that soulmate quirk?"

You needed to know. 

"Why?" Bakugou asked, a smirk on his lips. "You hoping for it to be true?" It was clear he was tired as well, barely looking at you.

You rolled your eyes. Yes. "No, dumbass. I signed up for it for utility and I honestly think it's just a stupid scam. But I was wondering what you thought of it? Or if you have any hopes of finding some form of soulmate out there?"

Bakugou considered your question longer than you had expected him to. He started explaining, but gave up right away, carefully choosing his words instead of just saying the first thing that came to his mind. "I don't think it's a legit service. As for hopes..." He leaned back, avoiding your gaze. "Doesn't every poor fucker hope for a soulmate?"

"A person who just takes you at face value no questions asked?" You added.

"'Face value'? You going business on soulmates as well?"

You scoffed, amused. "You're gonna rub my job into my face every time?"

"Only if you keep saying stupid shit."

With that, the conversation surrounding soulmates ended. You felt too odd to continue asking him about it, get more details... Maybe bring up some hope for yourself. 

Mr. Kuga brought the food and the two of you thanked him, eating in silence. 

There was one truth that had been revealed to you by that damned kiss of his. The way he had not hesitated. The way he apologised for the sudden move on your part. The way he had kissed your temple right after, maybe to rub it into people's faces, but what if it was a sweet gesture towards you? Not for anybody else? 

You were falling for him. 

Fuck - you knew it ever since you had gone on that restaurant date. 

Your bickering in the car, the jokes that flowed so easily between you, and the continuous care he displayed for you. Was it really all just for cameras? Was he just a generally considerate person?

Were there feelings brewing for you? 

No.

He had clearly denied that.

Initially, you convinced yourself that your feelings all came from the fact that you could touch him. After being so touch starved, of course your brain would try and convince you that Bakugou had been the one for you. If you could touch him, it would mean you were meant for each other. Logically. And so you pretended that that was where your feelings came from. That you had not actually fallen for him, but that you loved the fantasy of him. 

Except your eyes kept lingering. The way his brows always furrowed ever so lightly, no matter what he was doing. How had he gotten all these scars? His right hand practically only consisted of scars. The deep gnash on his cheek. The little scratches that kept showing up on his forearms. 

Some of it must have been his quirk. 

"Will you be fine going home?" You asked him after the meal. "You've had quite a bit to drink."

"Mhm, yeah, don't worry about me. Let's get you home first." He said. "For appearances." He added as he took your hand in his, his warmth mixing with yours, and you felt as if your quirk no longer played a role in your life. 

"Of course." You responded, smiling to yourself when he wasn't looking. Keeping appearances for just around the block?

You were down bad, needing to keep your delusions in check. And you couldn't even blame the beer on it. 

"Ugh, I can't believe I still have to work tomorrow..." You groaned as you approached your apartment complex. 

"You should prepare for the shitstorm you're gonna see on your twitter." Bakugou added. 

"Shit, don't remind me." 

"You're going cold." He said lifting your hand.

"I don't know how you handle being present online all the time... It makes me anxious as hell." You admitted, pulling your hand away from him as you started to feel incredibly self-conscious over your own body heat. 

"You get used to it. You just don't gotta care."

"Hm." You shrugged. You wanted to jump into your bed first thing, but you also did not want to leave this moment with him. Just a little longer. "So, when do you recon is the next outing?"

"I'll let you know via text." 

"Alrighty then..." You nodded. "Bakugou, do-"

"Katsuki." He corrected. "If we're gonna be dating, then you should start calling me by my first name."

"Ah, Katsuki. Alright..." It felt odd. Intimate. And you didn't know how your heart could handle the jump. It was all for the scheme, of course. To improve his rating. "Um, well, thank you for the evening. I think these spaces suit you a lot better."

He just nodded. "Good night, F/N."

"Good night, Katsuki."

Your voice dropped lower as he walked away, his name just a hopeful whisper to the wind. 

You needed to get your feelings under control. 

Or you'd be met with a messy breakup.

Chapter Text

"Yami, it's fine, I promise." You repeated, absent-minded as you worked through your emails at the same time. 

You had woken up with a massive headache. Throughout the night, you kept tossing and turning, removing the blanket before wrapping yourself in it because you started shaking. It was in moments like these that you wished you had some sub-conscious control over your quirk that would regulate your bodily temperature automatically. 

Instead you had been met with your mind drifting in and out of sleep and when you had woken up, despite knowing you had at least slept two hours, it felt like none. You dragged your morning on, spending longer in the bathroom despite having used your last ounce of energy to remove your makeup the night before. While brushing teeth, you scrolled through your phone, met with reposts upon reposts of Bakugou and you kissing. Funnily enough, from most angles, the kiss couldn't even be seen, his arm covering you perfectly as well as Tsuji's head being in the way from the front. 

Did Bakugou do that on purpose? You wondered...

"I have a lot of-" You yawned. "Work to do. Can we continue this conversation another time?"

"I'm just checking up on you." He said. "Your relationship is plastered all over the web. Just don't read too deep into some of the comments or..."

"Oh please, like I would give a shit what a bunch of twelve year olds have to say about me making out with someone." You joked. Though, you had not read any comments, not really. While scrolling, you had mostly looked for different angles of the story, occasionally catching wind of the titles. "The only thing I'm a little concerned about is about what people are saying about the tension between Tsuji and Bakugou... Ugh, I can't believe people are speculating there was a thing between me and... Ugh, no, I don't wanna think about it."

'Tensions rising between Dynamight and Potential Love Rival!'

Rival? Not in a million years would you consider going out on a date with Tsuji. Who was writing these articles?

"Social media is fake, you should be well aware of that."

"Oh, thank you Captain Obvious." You commented. "I promise, everything is fine. Bakugou and I are well aware that this is all just a silly little scheme and whatever is said on the internet is not gonna affect me whatsoever."

Sometimes you wondered who you were trying to convince with your words. 

"Alright, I trust you."

"Thank you, Yami. Talk to you soon? I gotta get through the report before eleven."

"Of course, sorry for bothering you."

"You could never bother me. Have a good night- It's night in the US, right?" 

"Yes." He said and you could hear the subtle relief in his voice. You appreciated the trust he put into you. You only hoped you could trust yourself. "Have a good day, F/N."

Despite your body keeping complaining with your stomach gurgling at any point it could and your headache causing letters to mix together and your eyes to fall shut, work was going exceptionally well. Your numbers had not faced much of a change. The amount of interns and pros hired remained static, the amount of candidates in the interview stage saw an increase of two interviews as you cycled through profiles, but your targets had been met for the month. Except you didn't want them to just be met. You wanted to exceed all expectations.

Work was going exceptionally well for a whole other reason - client understanding. Ever since you had gone into that meeting with the Genius Office, you realised that for the past years, you had been asking the wrong questions about their needs. Yes, you had given them efficient interns who would make for great heroes and yada yada - but you had not considered their team dynamic... ever. 

Red flag in recruitment. But it had never come back to bite you in the ass so you had just considered it the least important value whenever you proceeded in your hiring strategies. 

Big mistake. 

The relationships to your clients had grown... stale. They had grown bored of the pool of candidates you had sent, because heroes needed excitement even when they were not on patrol. 

Not all agencies, of course, but you suggested meetings with the other clients you had collaborated with. 

And they all shared different expectations. 

"One of our teams could really use someone more cool-headed. A bit more calculated, you know?" 

"We could use an intern that knows their way around social media. Quirk? Doesn't really matter, but our marketing is down. A fresh mind, understanding trends could really help us out." 

"I feel like I'm missing a person I could really train. Be a mentor, you know? All these new kids with their powerful quirks... I think it would be fun to be a proper mentor before retirement but I feel like I don't have anyone to mentor. Maybe someone with a quirk like mine? I know, I know, I asked for the opposite before... But do you recon we could change?"

Your perspective on your work changed and... you started to enjoy it. Looking for profiles that were a bit more niche - 'Someone with a quirk to mend things. We have too many giants in our agency... The damage is costing us.' 

Personalities, quirks, interests, certificates, degrees, previous experience... Headhunting had become such a banal task, even though back when you started that was what you had done with a passion. Now? It was all you were looking forward to.

And someday you would even expand your services in hiring. Just not while you were still under the same agency. 

Unfortunately, your lack of sleep had been catching up to you, causing you to end your workday early because you felt yourself heading into the dreamworld with each passing minute. 

"The report is done... Candidates reached out to..." Yawn. "Jesus... Um, what else? New job posted online. Sticker design requested... New banners ordered..." You kept going through the list, checking off each item from your to-do. Four in the afternoon. You could definitely stop working. 

As soon as your head hit the pillow, you fell asleep, a comfortable nap. Interrupted by your phone vibrating furiously just moments later. 

"Wha... What?" You hadn't even looked at the name of the caller, your mind on full alert as you had believed it to be work related... Only you heard that familiar gruff voice on the other end. 

"Busy workday?" Bakugou asked. 

"Since when do you do calls?" You mumbled, rubbing your face, checking the time only to see that he had allowed you ten minutes of rest. "Fuck, Bakugou, I was having such a lovely nap..."

"It's not even five? Who the fuck did I call?"

"Haha so funny." You grumbled. "Why do I get the pleasure of receiving your phone call instead of a half-assed text asking me for my personal data?"

"Make yourself available next week Friday."

"Another date? Do couples usually hangout so much? I need a break, man..."

"You signed up for this." Bakugou reminded you. "I'll pick you up on Thursday, I need to teach you some PR. You're gonna be doing interviews with me. Your specialty, no?"

"Ugh, I can practically hear your dumb ass grin..." You sighed. "What about clothes...? I felt underdressed for the restaurant, I don't wanna look like an idiot at the event..."

"I'll take care of it."

"Wear a matching tie." You suggested with a grin. 

A short pause. "It's Katsuki, by the way. Don't forget."

Bakugou hung up on you, no goodbye or anything and honestly, you couldn't even say you were surprised. You dropped your phone, hoping to dive back into the wonderful nap you had had, but your fluttery heart pumped more adrenaline than necessary throughout your body. 

Official. No rumours, no fans taking pics of the two of you trying to prove your relationship - the kiss having made it very clear, but alas. You were going to stand in front of cameras, mics pointed at you, questions raised, all of which could be answered with the mention: 'Dynamight is my boyfriend.' 

Of course, it would all be fake. 

You had come to terms with the fact that you had feelings for Bakugou. As long as you kept avoiding his first name. As long as you kept thinking of him as a fantasy, something fake, rather than a possibility, you could accept your feelings. A guilty pleasure was all your thoughts would be. And if you accepted that it was all made up, that none of his actions towards you were real, that everything he had ever done was for the cameras - you could avoid the heartbreak. 

It certainly helped that Bakugou never went in on your subtle flirting. A clear rejection helping you clear your delusions. 

Throughout the weekend and through the few days of work - you kept repeating the words 'fake relationship' like a mantra. A reminder that this whole thing was just for a promotion. For money. For praise. Rank. Anything but love. 

Any time your brain tried to convince you that his actions had to some extent been genuine, you dismissed those convictions with your mantra. 

Work was a great distraction. Calls, reports, meetings, event organisations - the UA Sports Festival was coming up again. Not to mention the fact that you needed to hold a booth the whole day so you could meet future prospects. And after? Secure the candidates for your clients. Your workload was going to spike up drastically. 

You dove right into the technicalities of it all, even taking on some overtime just to see your visions through. When you weren't focussed on the festival, you were headhunting. When you weren't headhunting, you were answering emails filled with questions about open positions, benefits, and what not. When you weren't rummaging through emails, you cleaned up your files-

"It's late, go home. Your boyfriend's waiting." Jelena said with a playful grin, packing up. 

"Look who's talking." You responded, looking to her and pointing at the empty office. Everybody else had already left. Funnily enough, you had never noticed Jelena staying so long. In fact, she had almost always been one of the last to leave the office. 

"My husband is as well, that's why I'm going." She hummed, grabbing her handbag. Expensive one - you could tell even if you couldn't pinpoint the price. She always looked elegant, put together, strong. As if she had no cares in the world, because she was simply that capable of handling herself. "Come on, you need to take care of yourself. I can't see you holed up here for the third day in a row. Up up!" She shut your laptop for you. 

"Fine fine..." You agreed. "I should get home, you're right."

"And you should take more breaks." She said, leaning against the wall closest to you as she waited for you to pack up. Jelena had always been the type of person to wait for someone, be it lunch, leaving the office, grabbing a coffee. 

Huh, the things you learned about your coworkers over the years but never really pointed out to yourself... "I take plenty-"

"No, you don't." Her accent slipped out at 'don't'. Some words she pronounced as if she were reading them as they were written. It was kind of sweet. You never had met a Slavic person before. "How about we grab our coffees together, yes?"

"I don't know, I'm not the type-"

"Oh, I know." She said. You were walking together to the parking, silently, and you were about to enter your car before she turned to you again. "But lunch? Once? We've known each other for years and yet we're strangers. And don't worry, it would be just the two of us, alright?"

You considered her words for a moment. What were you holding back on? "You know... Yeah. Why not?"

A bright smile. Warm, welcoming. As if she were the personification of a home. "You better keep that promise!"

"Yeah, I will." A soft smile on your lips. 

Maybe work didn't need to be so tough. 

Chapter Text

How had you gotten into this situation? 

"Fuck, Bakugou..." You gasped, his head buried in the crook of your neck as he traced soft kissed down to your collarbone, his thumb pushing the strap of your dress aside. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, your vision blurring the events of the evening together as you stretched your neck out to give him more space to work with. He kept you locked into place by your hips, pushing you against his bedroom door. You could smell the alcohol and cigarettes on him, an amalgamation from the event. 

His hands dug into the silky material of your dress, his left hand pulling the fabric upward so he could have access to your thighs. His fingers pressed into your skin, pulling you towards him and your leg lifted, parting, allowing him to push himself closer to you. Your arms rested on his shoulders, your eyes meeting his as his head shot up to you. 

Anticipation had been written all over his face. Need. And you realised that you still had a choice to make. If you leaned into this, your relationship would head into a new direction. Publicly remaining fake. Privately enjoying this one night of carelessness, breaking all rules of intimacy.

This was no act of love. Simple need. And you needed him as well. Differently.

You could still reject him and safeguard your heart. 

Time stretched out in that moment. 

How had you gotten into this situation?

Bakugou picked you up Thursday evening after work to go dress shopping - though, initially you had believed it would just be for PR training. "I don't know your size, how am I supposed to take care of the dress?" He explained and you simply accepted your fate, despite plenty a complaint you had thrown at him. At the very least, you had been safe from cameras and not many people bothered you while shopping, the store staff keeping strictly to their confidentiality code. 

This proved a relief as you had been looking for dresses, feeling the privacy surrounding you. You had no idea what you were looking for. In fact, you had no idea what kind of event you were going to, nor could you tell what dresses would be appropriate. "I only ever shop for work clothes..." You mumbled to Bakugou who had just been following you around the store with no input. "I don't know what to wear, to be honest."

"Just pick whatever you want." 

Never trust men when it comes to fashion. 

You had to remind yourself. So, you strategically went through the options. Straps were important. You had no desire adjusting a dress that was slipping off your chest if it wasn't tailored to your body. Long dress that flowed enough to move well in. Colour? You just went with your gut on what would look good on you. Being alive over twenty years helped figure that out at least. 

Bakugou's input actually proved insightful. He told you exactly what dresses were not flattering the moment you stepped out of the dressing room and he did so until you had tried on the very last one. An elegant gown that sat comfortably against your skin, a slit in your skirt to allow for movement and layers that gave it that cascading flow you had hoped for. 

And you almost thought to have seen a glimpse of... awe in Bakugou's eyes. A gaze that followed you as you closed the curtains again and that remained with you as you got undressed again. 

You shook your head. You couldn't keep feeding your delusions. 

"Thanks for taking care of the dress." You said once you had reached your apartment. "So? What's the next step of today's plans? It's getting late and I still have work tomorrow." You reminded him. 

"I'll make it quick." He said, leaning back on your couch, manspreading like the whole space belonged to him. You wanted to slap yourself for thinking that any of his movement had been remotely attractive. "It's a charity event for a quirk counselling organisation" - already, you were not a fan - "I don't even really fucking know what's gonna go on. I think it was an auction? Either way, one of my old classmates is a big contributor. Our appearance will solidify the relationship. That is if you stop forgetting what to call me."

"Yeah yeah, Katsuki." You rolled your eyes at his accusations. You were perfectly capable of using his first name. The only issue was what that was doing to your heart. "So what's the big deal? We show up, hold hands, couple interviews, auction, home?"

Bakugou scoffed, amused by how easily you were taking the situation. "Fuck no." He responded, shaking his head at your imagination. "First, people I know will be there. Not all friends. If we can convince the people I'm close to that we're a couple, we can convince anyone. Any additional rules beside the no kissing rule we broke?"

You blushed. Did he have to bring it up? "No, I told you I'm fine. Also, who's we? I clearly remember not pressing my lips onto yours but the opposite."

"Whatever." He grinned. Why did he have to be such a tease? Where had the stoic frown gone? "You shouldn't take the interviews too easily either."

For the rest of the night, well past midnight, when your eyelids could barely keep open and your ears blocked out his instructions, Bakugou taught you everything he knew about reporters. The two of you solidified your backstory - how you met, how you fell in love, why you love each other. Things that felt like you were reading elements off of a list so that you could get out of a court case. 

Probably because those things had actually been written down by his PR manager with the notion of his instructions being infallible, most believable for the cameras, and the best answers to give to get a reaction out of people.

"Bullshit." You hissed, reading about how much you apparently loved Bakugou's nurturing side. "You don't fucking act like this. How am I supposed to sell this to people?"

"That's why we're practicing, dumbass."

And so you practiced and practiced until the words were burned into your mind to the point that you saw them on your eyelids when you finally got the opportunity to head to bed. 

The event approached quicker than you would have liked. Your final interview for the day finished, you shut your laptop to get ready. Normally, if you had been invited under wildly different circumstances, you most likely would have paid a hairdresser and makeup artist to doll you up. But with the time constraints, you had to make do with what you had at home. 

The dress though... stunning. 

Hell, you had never felt so gorgeous in your life. The way it hugged your hips, the fabric around your chest accentuating just what was needed, and how your figure just appeared outlined like you were part of a painting. Were it not for you fake dating Bakugou for his sake as well as yours, you might have even planned to enjoy yourself with some playful flirting that would not lead to anything except an awkward encounter couple weeks later at the grocery store or something.

How lovely that would have been. 

"You look good." Bakugou complimented you after the initial greeting. 

"There's no cameras around, you don't need to pretend." You joked, giving him a taste of his own medicine and you were surprised to see he remembered, judging by the acknowledging grin on his lips. "Nice matching tie, you look good in a suit."

Had it been your imagination or had Bakugou changed? Not that there was much difference from his base behaviour... The frowns, the dismissive grunts, appearing annoyed at anything you did. And yet, there had been a change. Maybe it had been some sort of approval of you, accepting you as more than just the business partner he had started the scheme with. However, you wouldn't call it friendship, not just yet. Despite having had the courage to open up to him about your quirk, there was still a barrier. 

But you were ready to call him a friend. And it seemed like he had been as well. 

If it meant you would see his slight grins and endure his jabs at you, then you would be content with the title of a real friend. 

Yet, you still had some leaps of faith to take to be able to share that title between one another. 

Those steps, you would soon learn, were still massive. Not steps - no. A leap over an abyss that would lead you to a new version of him. A version that he showed you for the first time in front of his real friends. People he had known for ages, people who understood his facets like nobody else ever would. Facets no camera would ever catch. 

It was Kirishima whom you met first and you realised that, even if you were ready to call Bakugou a friend, you couldn't be like Kirishima. Not yet. There was that rare ease that settle over Bakugou the moment he met his friend. The handshake that felt so natural to them because they did it every time they bumped into each other. Conversations that did not start with 'How are you?', but that jumped straight into any topic they wanted without feeling awkward to have skipped formalities. 

"I can't believe it, Bakubro." Kirishima said, his flat hand pushing Bakugou away by his chest as he stepped towards you. "Eijirou Kirishima, it's nice to meet you." He greeted you, offering his hand towards you.

The one thing you also had to overcome to ever call yourself somebody's friend. 

Only two people you could touch. 

Tokoyami for familiarity. 

Bakugou for circumstance. 

"Uh, nice to meet you." You said, unsure how to breach the topic of your quirk with a stranger. Clients were understanding. Pro-heroes should be too and yet, you couldn't get yourself to tell him. In the presence of Bakugou, it felt like a much higher hurdle to overcome. "I'm F/N L/N." All you had mentioned out, leaving his hand hanging. 

"Not a touchy person, eh?" He asked, jokingly, and you could tell he had not taken it personally. "Fitting for this touch-repulsive guy." 

"Actually, you'd be surprised..." You mumbled, unable to contain the irony in your voice as you rolled your eyes at Kirishima's comment. If anything, Bakugou had been touch-starved, the way he had been overselling the relationship. 

"How come you guys... You know, Bakugou never really talked about seeing somebody, so the news came as a surprise, even to his friends." Kirishima specifically underlined the word friends, the tone coming practically from his stomach as he pressed the word through his teeth. The secret of your relationship - and the even bigger secret to remain unknown of the fake nature of it - seemed to have caused some uproar in his friend group. 

Whoever you met, asked you about your first meeting. Asked you about how you'd managed to win him over. How long it had been ongoing. Why Bakugou had kept it a secret. 

"I asked him to not tell anyone." You eventually caved, unable to take their questioning and the albeit playful mistrust that they were displaying. Nobody seemed exactly hurt about Bakugou having kept you a secret before the media revealed it - and yet, they all appeared sceptic as to why he would hide such massive news from all of them. 

After all, he had never dated anyone before. 

After all, they were his friends. 

"I didn't want anyone to know until I was ready to go public and honestly... The pictures in the car? Yeah, I was about to chicken out on going public..." You hid your lie with some truth. You had almost chickened out. Had it not been for his chivalrous quick thinking, you wouldn't be standing by the entrance of the event with all of them. "You probably didn't tell them cause we organised everything in such a spontaneous manner, no?" You looked up at Bakugou, your hand reaching for his, though you couldn't tell if you were doing it for show or moral support. A light nod from him. "Sorry about that, I actually didn't tell a friend of mine either..."

"So that's why he kept a cutie like you so hidden!" A dark-haired guy commented - Sero? You were not sure if that had been his civilian name, but you recognised him as the pro-hero Cellophane.

"Does that mean we're getting even more girlies into our friend group?" Mina asked. You remembered her name well. It was as cute as her round face and bright personality. "You should sit next to me during the auction! Momo and Ochaco will be on stage and most of the other girls are stationed too far away to attend... Hey, do you know if Tsu is showing up? I haven't seen her in a while!"

"Tsu? Yes, she's just running a bit late, something about an issue at the beach. She's had her workload grow due to the lack of heroes who can move like she does under water..."

The conversations faded for you, the mixing of names confusing you enough as it was, and it went on to pro-hero talk you could not join in. But you were fine with it. Them talking over one another, energetic, loud, inviting... You were fine just being there. 

And you loved whenever they teased Bakugou. Bakubro. Bakusquad. Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight. Kacchan. Katsudon King. Jokes about a failed exam. Teasing about something on the UA Sports Festival you did not fully catch. 

Things you had no idea what they were alluding to. 

But you didn't need to learn. 

This was something between them. 

And Bakugou's grip on your hand had loosened, the stress in his body having disappeared entirely. The rarity. One that didn't last when the conversations died as you were let into the venue. 

"I like your friends." was all you managed to tell him before you realised what had been awaiting you inside. 

Reporters. 

Questions. 

Suddenly all the memories of Bakugou's training flooded back into you. Suddenly you were alone, because everyone was just so interested in seeing who the great pro-hero Dynamight's girlfriend was without him being around. 

One reporter after the other. Question upon question. 

"How did you meet?" Easy, like you rehearsed. 

"How long have you been together?" Easy, like you rehearsed. 

"Can you tell us more about the date?" Easy, like you rehearsed. 

"How is it dating someone with a harsh temper like his?" 

You loved his nurturing side, of course - except, you couldn't say it. Neither any of the bullshit on that list you had memorised. Instead, you asked. "Could you specify?" Like you had rehearsed when you didn't quite get a question so that you do not give an adequate answer. 

"I mean, we're all aware of Dynamight's personality. Nobody could imagine him to settle or to ever feel love. You are aware of his controversy regarding his love for the hero work and that he appears rather villainous? It must be all quite exciting and tough to handle for you, no?"

Tough to handle? Ever feel love? Villainous? You tried to tell yourself to stick to the script, list off the things that his PR manager had specifically written out for you to present to reporters. A list of things that was so perfectly curated, it would be the best possible answer for cameras, not stirring any drama. And it would protect Bakugou from any backlash of what else you might say. 

"Dynamight is..." You started, but you couldn't. All the words on that list escaped you, leaving you with the burning fury in your palms. "If I have learned anything in my career in hero recruitment, then I would say that there is a misconception over what it means to be a hero is. And if I have learned anything in the time that I have known Katsuki, then... Then it is that that does not apply to him."

The reporter pushed the mic closer to you, her eyes having grown at the scoop that she was hoping to pull out of you. "How does it not apply to him? Are you saying that Dynamight is the true definition of a hero? Nobody would agree with you on that." The way she was enunciating her words, trying to manipulate you to give her the scandal she craved. 

Shit - your veins felt like they were burning. 

You scoffed, unable to contain the grin that was growing on your face. "As long as that nobody is me, then I am satisfied. No more questions. Thank you."

Just like you rehearsed. 

And just like you rehearsed, in the case that you appeared too stressed or uncomfortable, he would keep an eye out for you and come help you. 

And just like you rehearsed, he grabbed your hand to lead you away.

Boom.

Bakugou stared in disbelief at your burning palm capable of activating his nitroglycerin. 

"What the fuck did they say to you?" He asked. 

His anger mixed with yours. 

You knew the source of yours. 

But where was his fury stemming from?

Chapter Text

Large curtains behind which you could hide in the dark while the voices just outside overlapped into an incoherent chatter matching the repetitive clicking sound of cameras. "I was just annoyed." You said but your palms had long since betrayed you, the explosion hopefully not caught by anyone but the two of you. It was small, just a droplet, but its implications were nuclear. 

"Just annoyed?" Bakugou scoffed, crossing his arms as he took a peek through the curtains. Despite your voices being drowned out, there was a paranoia you had not expected from him. The discomfort of being seen - something you knew very much from yourself - written all over his face. "You don't cause my explosions to go off by being *just* annoyed." 

"Why are you so pissed?" You snapped back at him. His tone was grating, accusatory, as if you had made a mistake. "I got asked a stupid fucking question, I think I have the right to be furious!"

He stepped back, sighing. "I... Did you follow the script?"

"No..." You admitted, defeated. "It was stupid anyways-"

"Why wouldn't you follow the fucking script?" He asked, more pointed than before, his words flowing out as a whisper, but you felt like you were being stabbed anyways. 

"Because it's dumb! I'm not telling them lies about you!"

"So you feel better telling them what an awful person I am, what is wrong with you? We have a deal-"

"I told them you're a real hero, dipshit!" You yelled, louder than you had expected, quickly covering your mouth, your paranoia being as bad as his as you peered through the curtain. Nobody around - you exhaled in relief. Insulting your boyfriend publicly wouldn't be the move. 

"What?" He asked. "What are you talking about?"

"Why the fuck did you assume the worst?" You challenged instead. "I thought you had some more trust in your damn girlfriend to not talk about how fucking stupid you can be. No, I didn't tell them you're an awful person, because I actually consider you a hero, asshole." 

Bakugou studied you for a moment. Disbelief? 

"Don't look at me like that." You hissed out, shaking your head. "There's no cameras around so I'm not pretending."

"I need a drink." He answered after the long silence. 

"Make that two of us." 

You blended in with the crowd as you rejoined the people, the big doors to the main hall finally opening, which meant that you could leave the prying eyes of the reporters and enjoy a moment of respite. 

The tension between you and Bakugou remained. You needed to cool down. As you grabbed the free champagne and made your way towards Mina, who had kindly invited you to sit next to her, you kept avoiding Bakugou's gaze. You couldn't take it. You couldn't handle him. 

You couldn't handle the anger with which he had accused you. The hurt that flashed over his features before it disappeared. The surprise and disbelief that you indeed had done something nice for him. What the fuck had he been thinking of you the whole time you had been - what? Bonding? Becoming friends? Had he been of the firm belief that you were waiting for the next opportunity to fuck him over and leave him in the dirt? 

Your promotion was as much on the line as was his ranking. 

And if anything, your promotion was more important than whatever he had needed the money for. 

Driving an expensive car, living in an expensive area, attending big events with custom suits, and eating like a king because he could simply afford it. That easy going lifestyle, good looks, fans, and he still found ways to make himself miserable. 

"You seem tense." Mina pointed out to you, wanting to take your arm but you pulled away. 

"Not a fan of being the centre of attention. Usually watch these things from my couch." You responded. 

"You had a fight with Bakugou, didn't you?" She asked. Your head shot towards her, betraying any lie you were about to tell her. How? "I saw you walk back in and Bakugou has his tells."

"I just..." A swig of your champagne, leaning closer to her. "You're his friend... Does he always, I don't know, assume the worst?"

Mina chuckled. "He's..." She looked up checking if he were in ear shot, but Bakugou was fully immersed in the conversation he had with Kirishima, ignoring the two of you. "We had a rocky start into the friendship, I'd say. He pushed people away and were it not for Kirishima's persistence and me being annoying, I don't think he would have let us into his life."

"Hm..." You looked to him, your eyes meeting for a moment, the both of you looking away. 

"He likes you. I can tell that much." Mina said and you almost laughed at her face. "I mean, of course he does, you're his girlfriend after all. Though, I didnt think he'd ever... I didn't think he'd be looking for a relationship right now. He's been so immersed with hero work, sponsorships, and whatever jobs he could get his hands on."

"Mhm... Yeah, he's working Sundays as well..." You remembered. The picture he had sent you, late at night, his patrol just ending on a day on which the world usually stood still. But no, he kept moving. 

Mina looked ahead onto the stage, thoughtfully. People continued piling in, filling the seats and the lights were being adjusted. "To answer your question, Bakugou has a big misconception about himself. I think that's a thing you should learn by yourself."

"I guess so... Sometimes I think I don't know him at all..." You admitted. 

"I think you know more than any of us ever could. Or at least you will." Mina stated and you wondered what she was talking about. There was no way you could know him any better than the friendships he had nurtured for almost a decade. "You worry too much." She joked. "It's good, somebody needs to worry about him."

"I might go grey from worrying." You grumbled, leaning back into your seat as the lights dimmed, the stage being illuminated, inviting you to experience the show. 

Mina laughed. "I'm glad he's got you as well now."

You couldn't respond. Pro-hero Uravity took the stage and the event finally commenced. Presentations of the programme, how it helped people of all ages having troubles with their quirks. You stopped listening halfway through - good for those who could get by with the help. Good for those who did not have their quirk suddenly latch onto their emotions with no chance of separating the factors again. Good for those who found no other solutions. 

You were fine. The heat in your palms was yours alone to handle. The ice you left in your path was yours alone to clean up. And you managed. No incidents. 

And yet your eyes darted to Bakugou and his met yours, just a couple of seats away, and you cursed your body for needing his touch. All because it had been a while. All because your only friend was gone and even that friend, you could not always reach. Your hands stiffening at the memory of the incident that had cursed you. 

In the end, Bakugou was truly the only person you dared hold on to. 

And still, you had caused the explosion that separated you. 

"Thanks." You said as you grabbed a glass offered by Denki, another friend of Bakugou's, after the auction had found its end and the programme had collected its donations. The evening was far from over. There was an after-party, during which you had the chance to meet the people behind the programme - the people you wanted to avoid. But you couldn't. They were friends after all. "Tokoyami told me a lot about you actually, congratulations on the start of the programme." You told Uraraka, forcing yourself to smile as naturally as possible. It was a big achievement. You shouldn't take the joy away from her just because it was not an achievement that benefited you. 

"You know Tokoyami?" Kirishima asked. 

"Man how is he doing? He's in the US, no? It's hard to keep up contact." Denki also wondered. 

"Uh, yeah, we met a couple years ago. Oh, did we not specify? He's the reason me and Bakugou met in the first place. Sorry, if I omitted that detail, I thought it was obvious." You joked. Bakugou knew of your friendship - he found out just the evening before as you solidified your story for the cameras. If anyone asked, you would use him as a scapegoat, but thankfully, nobody really cared on who the mystery friend was. Easier for the both of you to sell the story, at the very least. And you didn't have to include Tokoyami in the scheme. At least not publicly. 

"Obvious? Man that guy truly lives a double life sometimes, nothing's obvious with him." Sero sighed. "I miss him, though. And Dark Shadow."

"He's doing fine though, it's a bit difficult to keep in touch with the timezone differences but he'll be back in August." You explained, earning you a round of cheers - or more like cheers for Tokoyami's announced return. 

You were glad to see that Yami surrounded himself with friends as these guys.. 

And you started to feel more included as well. 

What do you do for work? Can our agencies work with you? So if we need admin workers can you also find them for us? What do you do for fun? Movies? What movies? What shows? Who's your favourite character? Have you heard about the theories? What did you think of the ending? Who's your favourite pro-hero?

Questions upon questions, but you were glad to answer them. It felt odd being at the receiving end of this interview phase - it was usually you who bombarded people with requests and they were all based in hero-work. This was a nice escape. And everyone seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say. In turn, you were curious to learn more about them as well, eventually returning to observing them more. 

Denki was at the receiving end of jokes most of the time. Sero loved to dish out but could barely tank it. Kirishima was surprisingly the type of person to wallow in nostalgia. Mina was the life of the party, dragging everyone onto the dance floor. Momo was more reserved but the easiest to talk to. Uraraka was the funniest of them all, something you mentioned, earning you a bunch of pouts from the guys who had believed they were the kings of jokes. 

You met other pro-heroes in the process, even seeing some of your clients - somehow, you felt more at ease than you had at the office. No talks of job post being filled. Targets being met. Just questions about your personal life, how you were doing, and if you had any holidays planned. The conversations were short, but they brought some energy back into you and you felt yourself genuinely enjoying the evening. 

Were it not for the remaining tension. 

The looks that you and Bakugou exchanged. Your arm brushing against his. No conversations exchanged between you, but you could tell he wanted to talk to you. Unsaid things from the fight before. 

"That was... nice." You said, glad to finally escape the smoke, spilled drinks, and deafening music. "My makeup must look like shit, though..." You sighed, pulling down the sun cover on the car, checking yourself in the mirror. "Ah shit..." You grumbled, fumbling in your bag to find wipes and fix your lipstick. "Damn drinks..."

Bakugou remained quiet as he let you fix whatever qualms you had, not even starting the engine, enjoying the silence of the night. "I'm sorry."

"Huh?" You almost dropped your lipstick from the sudden sentiment. Right. You had to talk to him. You couldn't just run away from this, pretend that it was nothing. 

"I knew you could handle yourself." He said. "In the interviews... You did really well." His voice was strained. But you knew it wasn't because he didn't mean the apology. 

"You know what's crazy to me?"

"What?"

"The fact that you say I have a stick up my ass, that I'm some robotic being... But I'm not nearly as hard on myself as you are."

Bakugou laughed, leaning back into his seat as he finally started the car up. "Maybe." He said, turning off the radio, driving out of the parking. "But you sure as hell are rivalling me in it."

You grinned. "That script was ass."

"It really was." He agreed. "Do you wanna come to mine? I need a break."

Your heart pounded and you wished he had turned the music on to drown out the banging sound against your ribcage. A break? With you? You couldn't help the deep breaths that grew with the question, trying to appear as calm as you could. "Sure, why not." You said, casually, like it really didn't matter to you. But it did. Nothing in your life seemed to have mattered as much as that question. And you felt really fucking stupid for thinking that. 

"Why did you become a hero?" You asked, memories of your first car ride coming back to you. "Not why you wanted to but... after the hero course. Why stick to it?"

Bakugou shot you a quick glance, finger tapping against the steering wheel, but it was not stress. A rhythm to help him choose his words. "That damn course gave me so many scars." He laughed, but it left a bitter aftertaste. "You'd think somebody would quit after... Unimportant." 

But you knew what he was talking about. You were not there at the time, but it had been all over the news. 

The reason he had all these scars, the fear of facing someone as powerful as All for One. And then? All the footage wiped clean. All the successes of these children sent to war covered up for the sake of keeping face. 

"A friend of mine, the guy who kept breaking his damn bones... All my life I've believed that I was above him. That I would become the number one hero and prove to the world just how damn amazing I am. Fuck, I was an annoying kid."

"Was?" You teased. 

"Careful, I'm the one behind the steering wheel." He warned playfully. "But that guy was always ahead of me and I didn't want to admit it. And in the course, I saw people all around me be better, while I tried to convince them and myself that I was the number one. That I needed to beat everyone into the ground to prove just how superior I am. Turns out I was just some loser who couldn't see his own flaws." At the red light, he turned to look at you, take in your expression, the curiosity with which you had leaned in. "My friend lost his quirk, for good. And I can no longer catch up to him. He has solidified himself to be the hero I am still striving to be. That's why I'm doing this." Green light. His gaze lingered. No cars behind him so he took a second, leaning to you, but stopping himself. He drove on. "My turn for the questioning... Why do you consider me a real hero? I thought you only respected All Might."

"In the pro-hero scene, I hold All Might to a high regard." You confirmed. "But I wasn't talking about the pro-hero scene."

Bakugou listened, not asking you to continue and for a moment, you consider to end your explanations there. But you wanted him to know. At the very least, you wanted him to see you as a friend. 

"You've saved me more than once ever since we started this scheme. I kept fucking up, panicking, not knowing what I should do and you caught onto these signs." There were words swirling in your head, ready to tell him just what he had done to make you consider him a hero, but you couldn't. You simply couldn't speak on them. "I... started hanging out with some coworkers, by the way." You only added. 

Bakugou smiled. Subtly. 

He parked the car, coming over to your side to help you get out of it, your dress ending up being a bit difficult to navigate after all. Your feet hurt, the heels digging back into your skin the moment you had to walk in them again and you missed the comfort of sitting. 

"Hold onto me." He said, taking off his jacket, rolling up the sleeve of his dress shirt so your quirk would not be in the way. It would not have been. You had been calm. But now you heated up again, the attentiveness you had mentioned before coming to him so naturally, you wondered how people could not see it through the boastful personality he had put up as Dynamight. 

His apartment was... surprisingly cosy. More than you could afford, but not as flashy as his car had been. One floor with all necessities, two bedrooms, and through a quick peer you saw that one of them had just been an office for him to use. 

You dragged your feet as you leaned against the wall of his hallway, reaching down to take your heels off. "Let me." He said, kneeling down before you could refuse, helping you slip out of them, and you felt bliss the moment you touched the ground again. Only to be met with his eyes, kneeling in front of you, as your fist pushed against his shoulder to keep balance. 

You pulled away, thoughts you should not be thinking of him sending shockwaves to your palms. 

"A drink?" He asked and you nodded. 

"Yes please." You needed it. 

You followed him into the kitchen, your dress dragging on the floor now that the extra height had been missing. 

"Ugh, really?" You groaned, seeing the brand of beer he was taking out of the fridge. "Do you have a brand deal with them or do you torture yourself on purpose?"

"Does anything but complaints leave your mouth?" He rebutted, handing you the drink and you rolled your eyes. 

"If you give me shit to drink, there'll be a lot more than filth flowing out of my mouth."

You took the bottle, taking the first sip, bitter and dry. 

"I already miss the champagne..." You sighed. "Uraraka... I'm not a big fan of quirk counselling, but I can't help but feel proud of her. And I just met her. Weird, huh?"

"She has that effect on people." 

You leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing your arms as you let the base of the bottle rest on your forearm, the vapour having condensed into water, cooling the effects of the drink off of you. "Your friends are good people, I'm happy I can put real personalities behind their hero personas. And... I'm happy they're in your life. Really."

"You going sentimental on me?" He joked. 

"Mhm." You hummed, leaning onto him, realising just how close he had stood to you. You put the bottle away, disliking the taste, and no longer needing the liquid to help you make decisions you would never make sober. Bakugou did the same - whether he wanted to finish the beer or not, you didn't know - allowing you to rest against him. You looked up at him, your cheek resting flat between his shoulder and chest. "Shit, I think I'm getting makeup onto you..." You realised, wanting to pull away, but he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, keeping you in place. 

"Doesn't matter. If you need to rest, just let me know and I'll bring you home."

"No." You said. "I'm not tired at all, actually..." Your eyes locked onto his and you felt yourself blushing at the sudden proximity, yet you didn't want to break apart. And you didn't want to speak. Enjoying the moment. 

Maybe it was the alcohol that had gotten you into that situation. Maybe it was the belief that Bakugou would never agree to keep up pretence when there were no cameras around. After all, why would he follow your lead as you leaned into him? 

"There's no cameras around." You reminded him. 

"I'm not pretending." He responded. 

Your lips met, his hand cupping your cheek as he stepped in front of you, pulling you closer. His lips moved against yours, greedy, the mere touch not enough to satisfy his needs. You kept your hands against the counter, trying your hardest to keep your judgment clear. To tell yourself that if you reached out to him, you would not be able to let go. And if you were unable to let go, then you were about to commit the biggest mistake of your life. 

Bakugou led you to his bedroom, holding onto your hand as he intertwined your fingers and you followed. Your inhibitions left behind with the full beer bottle. You couldn't lie to yourself. You wanted this to happen. 

"Fuck, Bakugou..." You gasped, his head buried in the crook of your neck as he traced soft kissed down to your collarbone, removing the straps of your dress. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, your vision blurring together the events as you stretched your neck out to give him more space to work with. He kept you locked into place, pushing you against his bedroom door by your hips. You could smell the alcohol and cigarettes on him, an amalgamation from the event. 

His hands dug into the silky material, his left hand pulling the fabric upward so he could have access to your thighs. His fingers pressed into your skin, pulling you towards him and your leg lifted, parting, to allow him to breach the distance between you. Your arms rested on his shoulders, your eyes meeting his. 

Anticipation had been written all over his face. Need. And you realised that you still had a choice to make. If you leaned into this, your relationship would change forever. You didn't know if you could take a fake relationship with the knowledge that you had broken all rules of intimacy. He did not love you. He simply needed you. And you needed him. You could still reject him and safeguard your heart. 

He saw it in you. The short hesitation. "I won't force you into-"

But you shut him up, your lips crashing down onto his. 

You could always safeguard your heart later. 

Chapter Text

There had always been this question on your mind - why were the things truest to you heart the ones that happened at night? Why were the words you wanted to speak only ever uttered in the darkness of a cloudy starry sky? Why were you so prone to making mistakes you would later regret? 

You knew you would hate waking up in the morning. You knew you had made a step that brought uncertainty to your relationship. You did not know what it meant to pretend. Were you pretending? Were you telling yourself that you were doing this because you simply needed it? The touch of another person? His lips on yours? The sexual frustration that had built up over years that you had been repressing? 

Was it self-preservation or self-destruction? 

You did not care. Despite all the knowledge in the world, you disregarded it.  

But it was still in the back of your mind. A rush flowing through you and it seemed like the same adrenaline had kicked in within Bakugou. The fear that this moment would be so fleeting, you had to chase after it. 

His lips moved against yours, one hand pressed onto your thigh, holding it up so he could press his crotch against yours. A shiver ran through you, feeling the effect that you had on him in the moment, only adding to your frustration that he was not inside you. His other hand cupped your breast, the thumb rubbing circles around your nipple. The sensation of the fabric separating you from him pulling soft moans from you. His tongue danced against yours, only adding to the clouds that were forming in your mind. 

Noticing that your hands were cool enough, you let them travel from his shoulders to the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning one - two - His hand snapped back, pushing your wrists away. 

"Shit, wait..." He gasped out, pulled free from you and it took you a moment to process the sudden loss of contact. 

His fingers crumpled the textile, a fist forming over his heart. 

The light in his room was dim, only provided by a lamp near his bed to your left, but it was enough to reveal his apprehension to you. His ears red, his eyes avoiding you, his breath heavy, still calming down from your make-out session. 

"If you're..." You moved away from him, wanting to give him the space he needed. "If you don't want to continue, we don't have to." You reassured him, your own breath coming down as you worried about him. Even in this moment, your heart kept screaming at you, pumping guilt into your veins for ever making him feel anything but happy. 

How you wished you could shut all emotions out. 

Your palms ice-cold. 

"It's not that..." He sighed, his hand relenting, allowing you to catch a glimpse of the skin underneath. 

"Ah, about-" The realisation settled on you and you could not judge him for it. "Do you mind... opening my dress for me?" You asked instead, turning around. 

Bakugou did not move at first, confused as to why you would request such a thing despite his own refusal. You looked back to him, nodding for him to go on. "Don't make me regret this, please." You added, feeling the shiver that had overtaken you. You could not feel cold. Your quirk did not allow you to. And yet, it caused you to tremble whenever your anxiety grew. 

His knuckles pressed between your shoulder blades as he held your dress up so he could slide the zipper down. He stood so close you could feel his body heat warming you up despite the nervous jitters that struck you like lightning bolts. 

You knew you would have to be vulnerable before you kissed him. You knew you would have to show him parts of yourself, even refused to look at. But you knew it would be fine. Somehow no matter what you did around him, you knew it would be fine and at the same time, you were absolutely terrified of his reactions. 

Your hands held the fabric up as you turned back to face him. You needed a deep breath, a count to three, and you finally let go. The material tickled as it slid to your hips, the cold air mixing with your unease. 

His eyes lingered on your hip. You could see his pupils tracing the outline of your healed burn scar, the deep centre with extending cuts from it. He reached for it you pushed his hand away, instead resuming your previous endeavour of unbuttoning his shirt. "We're matching." You joked. "Although mine is not as dramatic as yours is..." You added, breathless, the fear slowly dissipating, but you remained on edge. "Funny how both of ours look like exploding stars, no?" You continued your rambling, praying internally he would interrupt you. "Shit, I don't mean like... This is personal, I shouldn't be making these jokes-"

"You're such a fucking weirdo." Bakugou said - serious before the sudden exhale from his nose followed by a chuckle betrayed him. With a quick move he pulled you in by the arm, his lips back on yours while you almost lost your balance were it not for his hands holding you in place. 

"Coming from the guy with an All Might collection in his office." You retaliated as you pulled away from him, your hands removing the shirt from him, tracing over the scars that adorned him. 

Bakugou rolled his eyes, a half-smile still on his lips as he led you to his bed, letting you fall back onto it. "Be happy there's no poster staring at you right now." 

You wanted to bicker back at him, but his lips were back on yours, unable to keep away from you for too long. Your fingers found their way back into his hair, playing with a lock. 

You were under control of your emotions - it was easy with him. It became easier. 

Except when he riled you up, his jabs at you bringing your blood to a boil, but you loved it. You loved the bickering. You loved the pretence under which you presented yourselves to everybody else, knowing that there was some truth to your connection. You loved the way he touched you. 

Cupping your check, thumb caressing it as your pushed him down by the back of his neck to deepen the kiss, needing more of him. Your heart was pumping in your chest - you were sure he could feel it as his hand continued down between your breasts, barely even grazing your skin. His lips breaking apart from yours, only to continue tasting you - neck, collarbone, tits. His tongue circling one nipple while his fingers pinched the other. 

The room was slowly filled your breathy moans, your core feeling hotter and hotter as you let your head sink deeper into the sheets. "Ah fuck!" You hissed out, not expecting the sudden pressure against your clit, his finger rubbing through your remaining piece of clothing. 

You could barely keep your eyes open, your breath growing heavier as you waited impatiently for him to continue. 

He removed your panties painstakingly slow, trailing kisses down your stomach, not changing his pace even as you moved your hips up impatiently. His fingers remained hooked around the lace. "Bakugou, please..." You mewled out, your hand on his, pushing softly. "It's been..." Your breath hitched as your pussy was suddenly exposed, your knees instinctively wanting to push together, but Bakugou kept them apart. 

"How long has it been?" He asked, kissing your cheek, the corner of your lips, your lips, and you had to keep yourself from moaning at those simple touches. His breathy, raspy voice was unexpected - and you hated how much you loved hearing it. 

Whatever your mind was telling your body, it did not obey. 

His hand trailed down your inner thigh as if anything but his feathery touch would suddenly break you. And you realised that he would not continue unless you answered his question. "You're such a bitch..." You spat instead, grinning as you saw the smirk tugging at his lips. 

You propped yourself up, wanting to bridge the gap between you, while your hand held onto his wrist, leading it down to your cunt. 

Bakugou refused to touch you, pulling back when you tried to initiate another kiss. "You never talk about yourself, I'm just curious." He said, his other hand once again by your breast, thumb flicking over your hard nipple and you broke eye contact with him at the sudden sensation. 

It was not enough. 

You needed to feel more. Your hips moved up automatically, craving his touch, but Bakugou remained firm. 

"Six years..." You admitted, defeated that you had to give into his game, but you couldn't brood over it. 

A pang of pleasure spread through the moment his middle finger circled your clit - slow, almost torturous how he had been playing with you. "Shit, I better make it good then." He teased, but there was a sense of determination in his words. All the rush from before had dissipated, now all he wanted, all he needed was to watch you squirm under his touch, knowing that nobody else could have you like he did. 

Because you wouldn't give yourself to anybody else. You couldn't trust anybody else. Not with your quirk. Not with your scars. 

A moan followed by another as he drew out the sounds from you - changes of pace, pinching, listening to your soft gasps, watching your reactions to figure out just the sweet spot only to take it away again. Your legs spread for him, your embarrassment replaced by the ripples of pleasure he kept sending through you. You felt your high coming, your voice growing quieter as you focussed on the feeling of his fingers, his lips against your jaw, his breath. 

He took his hand away - "Bakugou, please, fuck!" You moaned out, your orgasm so close, your body ached for it. 

He pushed a finger inside you, followed by another - "Desperation suits you." He teased, spreading his fingers, slowly removing them before pushing them back into you. His words hung in the air, compelling you to speak, but all you managed out were moans, followed by a string of cusses as your breath quickened. While his fingers stretched you out, his thumb pressed back onto your clit, circling, matching the rhythm of his fingers. 

Your back arched at the orgasm that overtook you, your legs pushing themselves back together, a deep moan catching up to your quickened breath. 

"Turn around." Bakugou ordered, undoing his belt buckle. Your mind was still clouded, barely registering his words, and even then, you obeyed, catching the sight of his dick as you moved. Bakugou's hard-on was twitching, leaking pre-cum - whatever he had done to you had reflected back on him, your pleasure turning into his. 

And he was impatient. 

From his drawers he pulled out a condom, while your adjusted yourself on the pillow, your pussy still throbbing from the orgasm. You felt as his tip aligned with your entrance and you shuddered at the feeling alone. 

Holding you by the hips, he slowly pushed into you, his cock spreading you, and you hummed at the feeling. Bakugou allowed you the time to adjust, a low breath coming from his throat - maybe even allowing himself to get used to the sensation. You needed him deeper. You moved back, taking all of him without warning. Bakugou groaned, his fingernails digging into your skin as held you in place, not allowing you to escape. 

"Fuck me already..." You challenged him, looking over your shoulder with a grin, only to regret your words the moment you saw the hungry expression in his eyes. 

The sound of skin on skin filled the room, your moans muffled by the duvet, your hand gripping the sheets as you could feel him hit just the spot you've been pining for. 

His groans matched his pace. His hands kept you steady, fitting so perfectly in the crease between your stomach and legs, holding your ass up despite you losing your senses, your upper body buried into the mattress. His rhythm slowed only once, allowing him to catch his breath and you knew he was trying to drag this out as much as possible. 

"You look so good from this angle." He said, his heavy breathing woven into his words as he pulled out slowly, taking in the sight of you. His hand moved from your hip, tangling itself into your hair. 

He pulled your hand up as he pushed his dick back in - "Fuck!" You gasped, no longer able to conceal your moans. 

You knew he was grinning.

His movement grew staggered, his breath turned into groans and with a final thrust, he came, collapsing over you, his lips tracing your spine. You were propped up on your forearms, your legs shaking, your pussy clenching against him as he pulled out, missing the way he had filled you up, stretched you out. Bakugou was out of breath, the sounds of his footsteps growing fainter as he left the room. 

You almost fell asleep, collapsing onto the bed as you tried to calm down, your core still sensitive to the touch, but you could not move. 

"Here you go." Bakugou said, voice soft, almost loving - or was it just your imagination? Your mind was so clouded it barely registered that he had handed you a water bottle so you could refresh yourself. You just nodded in thanks, pulling the bedsheets over you, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed in front of him. 

Your mind had come back down from the high and there would have been plenty more realisations were you not so tired. "I need to freshen up... Could I have some clothes?" You asked, not realising he had already prepared a set for you to change into. "Of course." You almost sounded bitter. 

Maybe cause you felt bitter as you took the clothes as you stumbled into the bathroom, your legs killing you from exhaustion but you needed to remove your makeup. You needed to be away from him for a moment. You needed your mind to stop bringing up everything he had done just a few minutes ago - You hated how much care he put into everything he did. You had almost hoped for him to just pull out and leave you there instead of making sure you were alright. You had almost hoped he had never gotten angry at the reporters harassing you. You had almost hoped he had never helped you get out of the car on your first date.

You had almost hoped to never have met him. 

Almost. 

Except you wanted his friendship. Something you could no longer have, your actions having made sure of that.

As you laid back down into bed, his chest rising softly, expression peaceful, you turned your back to him. 

Right. This had been just been a pretence. Like your whole relationship. A way to release stress, a way to gain something out of one another. Of course it didn't mean anything. Of course you wouldn't cuddle up to him with a kiss on the cheek telling him how much you loved him. What a ridiculous thing to do. 

You shivered.

Chapter Text

"Are you alright? You look a bit... sickly." Jelena asked you. For the past ten minutes you've barely touched your food, your fork poking at it as she talked about a book she had read recently. You could barely focus on her words, your eyelids threatening to shut down at any moment because you were so god damn exhausted. "Huh? Yeah, bad night..." You yawned just at the thought of going back to bed, tearing up from the strain. 

"Oh dear, you really need a break." Jelena commented. She had become somewhat of a friend to you while you still considered her a coworker. It was an odd relationship, but you knew she meant well.

Hell, you had just recently found out that she had been a mother of two all this time with a stay-at-home husband. An unaccomplished author who took care of the kids, got the groceries, cooked, cleaned. 

All this time you had believed that her husband had been rich. After all, she was carrying a bunch of designer stuff, how would that not be the case? 

But no. Jelena was incredibly hardworking and you had wildly misjudged her. Her behaviour - a lot of overtime, asking for additional days off during public holidays, leaving in the middle of the work day with no explanations - had suddenly made a lot of sense to you. 

Her concern for you seemed incredibly motherly. "It's alright, I put in a holiday request for two days after I finish my work surrounding the UA Sports Festival."

"Are you sure two days will be enough?" She asked in turn. 

"Don't worry, I just had a rough weekend. I'll be on top of my game for next week!" You reassured her. 

Truthfully, you felt horrible. Even during your interviews, you were certain your candidates could tell you were not on top of things. Your emails were an unorganised mess. You had to reread paragraphs multiple times to finally understand them, only to forget moments after because you got distracted. 

Your mind was stuck on that blonde fucker who, instead of telling you to get out of his home the next morning, had ensured you had breakfast. Who, instead of letting you take the next best bus home, had driven you. Who, instead of making fun of you for your messy hair, bad breath, and lack of personal clothing, had let you use his hairbrush, given you a new toothbrush, and let you keep his clothes. 

Who, instead of talking about the night before, avoided the topic entirely. 

Because, and you were sure of it, he had regretted it as much as you had. 

Bakugou's hands were tense against the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white, as he drove you home. The entire morning, as much as he had cared for you, he had done his best to avoid you as well. 

You had to remind yourself that despite his kind actions towards you, he did not love you. In fact, you would argue that everything he did was because he saw a use out of you. After all, he couldn't let his fake girlfriend walk the streets alone on a Sunday in a dirty dress. What would the media say about his image? 

The media had plenty to say about the sudden explosion you had caused with your quirk. The media had plenty to say about the tension under which they had found you - 'Trouble in Paradise?' the headlines said. You had to write a whole statement that you were just not used to media attention and thank Bakugou publicly for being such a good sport about the whole thing. For helping you out so much. For being by your side. 

At least your social media pages gained a lot of followers. Not that it mattered, but you took victories even when there were none.

"Would you consider him a friend?" Tokoyami asked you. 

"I suppose..." You sighed. You had called Yami to have someone to talk to other than your coworker. Not that you would ever admit to him that you had slept with Bakugou, but you needed advice. You needed to understand your feelings. Lying on your couch mindlessly scrolling through show suggestions but never picking one would not help you. "He's surprisingly considerate."

"Oddly always has been despite his... explosive nature."

"Ugh, Yami I'm not up for these jokes!" And despite your words, you snorted hearing the deadpan voice on the other side of the line. "Maybe a little... Anyways, I'm just conflicted."

"Because of the breakup?" He asked. 

"Must you know everything right away?" You reproached. "But yes... I don't know, Yami, the fact that I'll suddenly have to break off all these new connections I've made... Fuck, I really haven't thought this through, have I?"

"Why not end things peacefully?" He asked. 

You had wondered the same thing. But who would accept that? Who would look at a peaceful breakup and not immediately realise that the whole thing had been a PR stunt? Even your boss would hardly believe that your relationship had ever been real to begin with. "Breakups are messy. Gotta keep the realism going." 

"Are you scared of losing him?"

"Woah, Yami, let's not go too deep into my state of emotions! I'm just..." Yes you were scared of losing him. "I can touch him without issue. He's nice enough and... I like talking to him. But I don't know him that well either. As considerate as he is, he is also a cocky arrogant ass who has the world handed to him and he still wants more-" You sunk deeper into the couch, as far as you could, digging your foot in between the pillows. "Sorry... He's your old friend, I shouldn't talk about him this way... I'm just terrified of having this reality stripped from me and needing to get used to my old life again. Not that it's too different now from before, but... Ugh, you get what I mean."

An agreeing hum. "I understand. I don't think you're too scared of losing him, more... what he represents, I suppose."

"Exactly!" Fuck, no. Or yes? You didn't know. You knew nothing. You've tried to convince yourself that you were attached to him because you could touch him. In your mind, Bakugou was simply the next best thing. In your heart, he was above everybody else. Your internal world was at war. "And there's the other thing, actually..."

"You're afraid that you may not have entered a scam?"

"Yami, do you have a mind reading quirk I know nothing about?" You responded. 

Soulmates. The notion of Bakugou being your match made in heaven had been pushed to the back of your mind. You simply wanted to ignore it, accept that you had absolutely been scammed. Yet you were hung up on it, pulling at the invisible red string in hopes that it was real. "No mind reading quirk, just your friend. I don't understand why you would be afraid of it. Wouldn't it be a good thing to rid yourself of the belief of him being your soulmate?"

Shit. You had essentially admitted to Tokoyami that you had developed a fat crush on his old classmate. "I'd rather just know I have a soulmate who is made for me than to have to walk around eggshells whenever I meet anybody new... Not counting the fake relationship, I haven't dated anybody in six years."

"But if it's not a scam, are you willing to be in a real relationship with Bakugou?" He asked and you could hear it in his tone - the understanding, lack of judgment, invite for you to admit the feelings you were stockpiling within you, ready to burst. 

"No." Yes. "That's where all my issues are coming from. Everything is so confusing, even my palms don't know how to represent my emotions."

"I can't... really help you. It's a complicated matter." Tokoyami agreed. "Why not talk to him about it?"

You wished you could just tell Tokoyami that you could barely look at Bakugou. "I'll try." You lied, hanging up.

The conversation left you with even less certainty. You couldn't be honest with yourself - you couldn't be honest with the only real friend you had. Or were you telling him the truths you couldn't admit to yourself? 

"I know exactly what I need." 

Work. The one thing that kept you grounded. The one thing that had no complicated truths. Your profession required you to lie through your teeth - 'The recent people survey shows the agency is among the best work-life balance wise!' or 'There's events practically every week! The agency puts a lot of interest into getting to know their workers.' At least when you lied then, you felt no guilt. 

So you did some free trainings online, cleaned up your folders, checked a few CVs, went to work the next day, rinse and repeat. 

Bakugou barely contacted you, only giving you quick instructions on how to interact with fans online to boost the image of your relationship further. Otherwise, radio silence. No texts or calls. No new plans. You had pondered over if you should be the first to reach out to him, but then what? A thumbs up? Left on read? You couldn't deal with it. 

At the very least you slept. From exhaustion, but it was sleep nonetheless. Except you kept waking up, images from your night together flashing into your mind, keeping you up until you either grew exhausted enough to fall asleep again, or until you grew frustrated enough to relieve yourself in the darkness of the room, beneath your covers, wishing he were around. 

That had become your life. 

A life away from Bakugou because he simply did not bother to reach out. 

"How's your boyfriend?" Tsuji asked. Friday, early morning, the sun just rising, as you were carrying boxes from your car to your booth at UA. The Sports Festival would commence in a couple of hours but those who had the chance to be invited, could sit down and enjoy some breakfast as well as meet the incoming students. 

"Fine." You responded, absent-minded, ticking checkboxes over the things you had brought - banners, brochures, a variety of goodies, business cards with QR codes. 

"You don't talk much about him." He said, taking out the banner from its protective case and motioning for you to help set it up. 

"Have I ever?" You responded.

"One might think you don't actually love him." Tsuji comment and you wanted to smash the banner over his head. Instead, you let go, your palms heating up once more, enough to cause the large canvas to set on fire should you hold on for too long. 

Who did he think he was? That question swirled in your head whenever Tsuji spoke. "That is-" You wanted to retaliate, but you couldn't. If you lost your cool, what of your promotion? Not to mention the reporters that have already come by to set up. "At work, I focus on work, not my personal life. I hope you can understand." You responded, your tone forced with friendliness, while your palms had become a safety hazard. 

"I'm just concerned for you." He said, his hand on your shoulder which you shoved off, pretending that you were going for the bag of goodies to put them on display at the booth. "You've been doing a lot of overtime lately."

"There's always a lot to be done, no? I'm just making sure it's done." You told him with the clear intention to jab at him and the way he had been slacking compared to you. "Do you mind if I go for breakfast first? Cool, thanks." You didn't even wait for him to respond, letting him look after the booth while you caught the one and only break you would have for the day. 

Food. You needed it. While you were at it you would also get a proper coffee. You loved the machine you had gotten for the office, but UA had always been a different world to your small office with a pro-hero serving food and coffee that tasted heavenly. For free! 

Muffins, waffles, an assortment of fruits, eggs cooked in all kinds of ways, various drinks - "Just what I needed." You muttered to yourself, watching the steam rise as it hit your cup. 

"Excuse me, miss?" A voice called out behind you. With your cup, you turned around to be met with a man with a deep scar running down one side of his face, messy dark hair, freckles, and... more scars. His hand practically only consisted of scar tissue. 

You tried not to stare. But damn, his gentle face did not fit those injuries at all. "Yes, how can I help?" You asked in turn. 

"I was wondering if you would care to join me for breakfast?" He asked and you raised your brows in shock. Was he coming onto you? "Ah, sorry, I don't mean it in that way! You're Kacchan's girlfriend, no?"

"Ka-Kacchan?" You repeated after him. "Oh, Baku-" You pressed your lips together, realising you did not call him by his first name - and also because the nickname 'Kacchan' was hilarious. Kacchan? Really? "Yes, I'm Katsuki's girlfriend. Sorry, I don't think he's mentioned you before..."

"Izuku Midoriya. We've known each other for... since childhood."

You walked with him to the table where you had left your plate and it came back to you. The childhood friend. "You're the guy who lost his qui- Shit, I'm so sorry, sorry, I- Oh my god, I know-"

Midoriya smiled. "No worries, I assume Kacchan was vague when talking about me." 

Then suddenly, his gentle and happy nature turned serious. 

"I actually wanted to talk to you about him."

"Oh, what about exactly?"

"You're not really his girlfriend, are you? You're pretending?" Midoriya asked. 

Oh shit. 

Chapter Text

"I don't think..." You looked around, wondering if any reporters or pesky fans might have been around to listen to the conversation. Thankfully, it seemed that the cafeteria had been filled with mostly school staff, and people who did not look like they recognised you. "I don't think I should speak on this." You finished your sentence, eyeing Midoriya cautiously, unsure if you could continue your conversation with him. 

There wasn't much you knew about him other than Bakugou admiring him, but then again, how deep did their trust go? 

"I don't mean to pry, really!" Once again, his gentle soul came about packed with a nervous energy you had not expected to be stacked in that thin frame of his. "It's just..." He sighed, leaning in further. "When I asked Kacchan about it, he was very distant. I just want to make sure that everything is alright." 

"Why?" You asked in turn. "Why wouldn't things be alright? The scheme is agreed on, we've been play-pretending like foreseen, and it's gonna come to a well end soon."

Midoriya scratched at his hand, clearly deep in thought, muttering something out as he was trying to collect his words on the matter, but apart from 'Kacchan' you couldn't make out what he had been saying. 

"Did he say about not being alright?" You asked him. There was not much you knew about Bakugou - in fact, compared to an actual couple, your knowledge would be considered non-existent. You knew he liked All Might. You knew why he wanted to be a hero. You met some of his friends, but apart from Kirishima, you didn't think anyone else was really close to him. Well, Kirishima and Midoriya. But you didn't know his likes or dislikes. You didn't know his routines. You didn't know his heart. 

But what you did know was that Bakugou would not just open up about his feelings if he thought he could handle himself. If he could manage, then he would suck it up and continue with whatever plan he had put in place.

If he could manage, he didn't need to reveal his troubles. 

If he told Midoriya anything about feeling unsure, worrying about the end of this scheme you had put on, then that meant that it was something Bakugou could not handle on his own. And if he told Midoriya, that meant he could not trust you enough with it. 

"No, he's... He's acting different." Midoriya said. 

"I don't know him that well, I'll admit, but to me he seems like the douche I had met the first time." You stated. Resentment in your voice. Not for Bakugou, the douche you had met, but for ever meeting him in the first place and confusing your mind and heart so much. 

Your palms practically froze your coffee - the only bliss you wanted to take from this early morning and it was gone. While your anxiety settled deep into the pit of your stomach, begging you to run from this conversation, a heat seemed to have overtaken Midoriya. 

"Is that what you think of him?" He asked, brows furrowed, a hiss in his tone that fit his scarred appearance more than the kindness he had previously displayed. His hands were balled into fists, you could see the tension extending to his fingertips, nails digging into his palm. 

Midoriya cared for his friends - you could tell he was otherwise not quick to anger. But you speaking ill of Bakugou? 

"That he's just someone you can use for your own gain?" He added.

You hit your palm against the table. "He's using me just as much as I'm using him!" You hissed back, hoping to keep your voice as low as you possibly could to not drag any attention your way. "Or did you forget that he's climbed the charts ever since he's been presenting me to the public like I'm some trophy? These comments about how cute we look together, how sweet it is that Dynamight settled and how they're wishing him all the best while my DMs are flooded with thirsty fangirls who are mad they didn't get their chance."

"That is not Kacchan's fau-"

"It isn't, I know!" Heads turned at the sudden yell, you smiled at them apologetically, turning your head back to Midoriya. "Bakugou is... amazing. What I said in that interview, I meant it. I think of all the heroes I have met in recent times, he's the only one who could ever come near All Might's level." 

There was a glint in Midoriya's eyes, the surprise that overcame his features, but you didn't want to stick around to listen to whatever understanding of you he had come to. Everyone had come to that understanding. Tokoyami, Jelena, Tsuji, Mina - people you had never met. Everyone knew that your feelings ran deeper than you wanted to admit. "Bakugou's a good person. I'm glad he has a friend like you." 

So you took your tray, leaving Midoriya behind as you put most of the food away, only grabbing a muffin you could eat on your way out. Tsuji met you halfway, having left the booth behind when you texted him he could grab some breakfast, and you just motioned a quick greeting for him as you continued your grumbling down the hallway, leaving the building to reach your booth that had been completed by Tsuji. You sat down behind it, realising that the day had passed to a later stage with plenty students passing the gates. 

Let your day begin. 

While you were busy smiling welcomingly, talking to the students in line, one after the other expressing their wishes for agencies while you took notes on the back of their CVs so you could review the candidates while watching their performances, Midoriya remained seated at the canteen. Staring at the frozen table you had left behind. 

"Shoto, can you come by real quick?" He called to his friend who had hoped to enjoy a tea before heading over to the arena.

"Everything alright? You look... excited almost?" Shoto remarked, making his way over, only to see the sheet of ice that had settled over the cafeteria table. 

"Try and melt it." Midoriya suggested. 

But all that Shoto felt was the piercing ice that had been left behind no matter how much he pushed his flames out of his hand, the ice remained eternal, unmoving. "How did this happen?" He asked, letting his icy side feel the cold, noticing the shiver that ran through him. He was not feeling cold, but he could feel the despair the person had been feeling through the use of their quirk. 

"I'll ask for the table to be moved." Midoriya responded first. "I really need to talk to Kacchan"

"What does he have to do with this?"

"He's being an idiot." Midoriya said with a smile, one that Shoto could not possibly understand without context, but knowing his friend, it meant that he cared about something incredibly deeply. Shoto would not question it, but his curiosity was certainly piqued, watching on as Midoriya waved for Bakugou to come over. He knew he was interrupting so he excused himself, but as he made his tea, he watched on. 

You felt exhausted and the day was long from being over. The first round was soon to begin, but all you were thinking about was a nap and scrolling through social media to calm your mind with cat memes and finding a video essay you could ignore half-way through because you got distracted. 

Part of the students had stormed your booth for opportunities with agencies. Part of them was asking you about your relationship to Dynamight - who you found out occasionally taught their hero classes. Something that brought a lot of surprise to you, because the kids were referring to him as 'Mr. Kacchan' rather than Bakugou, leaving you wondering if Midoriya had anything to do with it.

Reporters tried to get to you, but you continued practicing your PR training, smiling, nodding, giving sweet responses on questions about your relationship. Some tried to push - 'Dynamight is known not to be the easiest to work with. Of all people, why him?' - but you stood your ground, your palms behind your back, your smile kind and welcoming. "I'm not the easiest to work with either, right?" You asked, dragging Tsuji into this who simply nodded, not wanting to be in front of any cameras. At the very least he kept his mouth shut, no off-hand comments pooling out. You wondered what Bakugou would have done if Tsuji had insulted either of you publicly. 

"Isn't that the guy from the video when you and Dynamight kissed?"

Fuck, right - Why did you forget such crucial information every time you were met with a camera? "We're coworkers. He met Dynamight for the first time there, but as with anyone in corporate, we all seem to have a resting annoyed face. Long days at work, you understand?" You diffused the situation, less than masterful, but enough to stop the inflow of questions about rivalry and jealousy. 

You were just glad that the students had become the centre of attention again, the first round starting. You decided to watch the first years, mostly because you knew majority of the third years from previous festivals and applications they had sent in for internships. Tsuji took on the third years that were showing off their final set of skills before they would graduate in the upcoming semester. 

Promise in all areas. Second years, you decided, you would rewatch when you get home. 

"Hey." Bakugou's voice next to you as he plopped down on the plastic chair in the arena, eyes fixated on the big screen above, showcasing the students' abilities in the robot battles. Each one equipped with abilities to offset the students' quirks and yet, many of them manage to bypass the hurdles, defeating one machine after the other. 

"Ba- Katsuki, hey!" You said, surprised that he had managed to find you so suddenly in the crowd of people. "I didn't think you'd come to the spectator area. Aren't you up with the other pro heroes?" You asked. 

"My PR manager told me where you'd be so I decided to join." He said with shrugged shoulders, but avoiding your gaze in a manner that made you question his credibility. But fine. He didn't owe you honesty. "Publicity, you know how it is."

"Uh, yeah, definitely, Mr. Publicity refusing to look at me or hold my hand?" You teased holding out your palm for him to grab onto and reluctantly, yet with a light smirk that only made those butterflies flutter harder within you, he intertwined your fingers. 

"Don't you need to take notes?" He asked. 

"I always rewatch the first round a couple of times. The quirks get lost in the crowds of students, so I'll take the time at home to look over them. Took a few days off for it."

"You took your days off to work?" He asked. 

"Well... If you put it that way..." You muttered, looking away with a pursed lip as if you were caught trying to steal candy from a kid - guilty, but not sorry about it. 

"You're a fucking loser."

"Weirdo, loser, idiot. Anything else I should know about myself?" You asked, but before you could answer, a massive blast went through lined up bots, taking out each of them with that one hit. "Holy shit!" You yelled out, leaning forward to take a closer look at the student that managed to do all that. He looked so unbothered by it all, cool-headed, as if that was to be expected. Different from Bakugou and yet all the same. "He's like you."

"Huh?" Bakugou grumbled, leaning forward with you. "No fucking way, that cocky bastard?"

"Oh you're right, you would have yelled how amazing you were right after." You teased. 

"I'll blow your brains out." He yelled back at you. 

"I'd like to see you try, Blasty!" 

It was ridiculous, the way you fought over nothing, your hands never leaving one another as if they were glued together. As if they belonged together. And you kept holding onto one another all throughout the first round, watching the ranking appear up top with an unexpected victor, not the one who had been blasting away at robots like it had been nothing. 

Bakugou's expression softened, a small smile on his lips you knew he had not meant to show so outwardly. Whatever memories he was wallowing in, you wouldn't interrupt, but it made you curious. When the first intermission happened, allowing the students a break, you asked: "How did the Sports Festival go for you?"

"I won, of course." He responded, arrogant as ever, but the side of his mouth twitched upward. 

"Oh my god, something cringe happened, didn't it?" You practically sang, poking at his cheek with another hand, his own slapping you away, avoiding your eyes, because you were onto him. 

You broke contact, taking your phone out, ready to do your research in front of him, but he tried to snatch it away from you to which you pulled your hand back. "Ugh, come on, I'm hella curious!" You complained, pushing him away, while your unoccupied hand typed in the query, leading with a shit ton of typos making it impossible to find Bakugou's win at the festival. 

"Fuck no!" He responded, managing to grab your wrist pulling your hand towards him, but instead dragging you along just enough that you were face to face to one another, lips hovering so close. 

This was different. It wasn't planned. It wasn't some act. Some way of getting use out of the other. 

Maybe that was why you suddenly felt so flustered. Maybe that was why his ears were so red. 

Every time you had kissed before it felt almost forced - in the bar when he tried to prove your relationship, kisses on the temple when the cameras where on you, in the privacy of his home because the both of you needed to release the tension. Use. Utility. Benefit. 

Bakugou's lips met yours for a quick peck before he pulled away, crossing his arms, grumbling that you should stop acting a fool. 

A quick peck. 

Not a linger kiss like he was trying to prove to the world just how in love you were. 

If you had given him a quick peck, you would have done it because you wanted to. But why did he? Want? Desire? For the cameras that were so focussed on the students roaming back into the arena to participate in the second round of the festival. 

"Didn't think you could be so easily embarrassed over something." You commented, turning you attention back to Present Mic who was explaining the rules. 

"Not embarrassed." He huffed out, rolling his eyes at the fact that you would ever suggest that. 

"I am so gonna look that video up."

"Comment on it and I'll kill you."

"You still need me." You reminded him. 

You focussed on the students organising their teams down in the arena. If you had just spared Bakugou one look - a quick glance - you would have seen the longing gaze with which he regarded you. Maybe then, just then, you would have understood his next words: "I hate that I do."

Chapter Text

Bakugou ended up pressing you against the wall of the teacher's lounge, locking it from the inside, while his lips moved against yours. During the short break in between rounds two and three, you had told him that you needed to go back to the booth in case anyone passed by for information. And, he had nodded. 

Except you walked past the teacher's lounge and he knew nobody would be inside, so he pulled you in, his hand finding the comfortable space just below your jaw. 

Of course he knew he was making a huge mistake. He had been purposefully avoiding you for two weeks because he knew he wouldn't have been able to keep his hands to himself. He knew the moment he saw you again, he would find someway to lose himself within you. He knew he would regret his actions the same way he had regretted that night. 

"I don't understand why you don't just... go out with her. She clearly cares a lot about you." Midoriya had said before the sports festival had started.

There were many things Bakugou could have said to him in that moment. 

'Because we fucked and I don't know how to go from there.' 

'Because I don't want to force her any further into the world of publicity that she despises.' 

'Because I don't know how she will react to my fuck ups.'

"I don't love her." Bakugou responded instead.

It wasn't a lie. He didn't love you. At least not in the way that anyone would expect him to. He barely knew you. He barely knew the way you changed your breathing to help control your quirk. He barely knew that despite the corporate style of your home, you still incorporated your favourite colours wherever you could - blanket, cups, candles. He barely even knew your favourite colours because you only ever mentioned them whenever you could. When you tried to pick out a dress. When he handed you his old shirt and you commented on it being your favourite colour. 

He barely knew the way the soft gasps escaped you whenever he found the right spots to kiss. The right spots to hold you by. And because he barely knew them, he had to find them again and again until you led him back to kiss your lips so you could stifle the sounds that he was drawing from you. 

"Maybe not, but you can't deny that it's still different." Midoriya countered. 

Bakugou couldn't deny it. He knew it was different. He knew that he wasn't pissed having to play pretend with you. He knew he didn't feel ridiculous fooling people online over this. He knew that his mind was wired to pay attention to every detail of yours. From the get go, he had referred to you by name. No stupid nicknames to try and remember you. 

And when he noticed that you had no control over your quirk, he tried to force himself to feel an ounce of superiority. He wanted to ridicule you. He couldn't have given less of a shit if it had been anybody else. Other people's quirks were none of his concern. But yours? Why couldn't he just call you a 'loser' and keep you at a distance? Why didn't he just call the whole fake dating scenario off and gotten an actress to do the job instead? 

"I'm just trying to figure out if I got scammed." Bakugou responded, feigning nonchalance.

"So you are hoping she's your soulmate?" Midoriya teased.

It would make everything easier, wouldn't it? To have that confirmation and to say that fate has decided for you, so you don't ever have to think about it. Bakugou had convinced himself that the soulmate quirk scam had been the best way to find a person desperate enough to participate in the dumb fake dating plot. And then fate brought you to him, agreeing that no love should be involved. 

He had just shrugged it off as a fortunate coincidence. 

Then you had asked him why not just call the whole thing off after you had kept your secrets from him. He told you because you were interesting. It was the truth. 

But in the back of his mind, the notion of 'soulmate' kept nagging at him. Telling him that the only reason he ever sought out the quirk service was because he knew he wouldn't have been able to trust anybody with playing lovers unless he had some kind of belief that it could work. 

"I'm just hoping the break up goes over well. You and I both know that the whole soulmate thing is bullshit." Bakugou responded, shaking his head, ready to leave the conversation behind.

"You're ready to call all contact off for the sake of popularity?" Midoriya asked. "Kacchan, I don't even get why you're doing all this. It's clear you're lying to yourself-"

"You know jack shit."

Midoriya rolled his eyes, not taking his childhood friend's words any more serious than he did anything else he said. One thing about being friends with Bakugou for years was that eventually you learned which of his words to filter out. "Is the sacrifice of your care for her enough to keep you satisfied in the top ten? Shit, I wouldn't even pull this off if the number one spot was on the line and you're doing all this to just be above-"

An explosion flew from Bakugou's hand as he slammed his fist on the table. "What the fuck do you know about my motives?"

Midoriya's palms pushed against the table as he got up, looking down on his friend. "She perma-froze a table because you keep being an idiot!"

Bakugou blinked slowly, allowing his eyes to meet Midoriya's while he tried to figure out what he meant. He had been well aware of your quirk's abilities - or, not so much apparently. 

"Shoto can't melt the ice she left behind." Midoriya added in face of Bakugou's visible confusion. 

"The hell did you say to her to make her feel that way?" Bakugou said through gritted teeth, matching Midoriya's stance as he lifted one arm ready to blast at his friend if the answer was any less than satisfactory. 

Midoriya sighed at the display. Some things never changed. His temper one of them. "When she did it I have never heard anyone speak with so much admiration. And for you of all people."

Bakugou's cramped hand released the tension, dropping and so did he back on the couch. 

"You should talk to her." Midoriya said. 

Bakugou did try to talk to you. In fact, right after he sought you out, looked through ever row in the arena, because he knew you were gonna watch the first years compete. You were a nerd first and a recruiter second. But when he had found you, he came up with a bullshit lie about management telling him to spend time with you. And then he went along with your games - holding hands, watching the contestants, and you teasing him about his win at the festival. 

His face had only been a couple inches away from yours, his mind reminding him that he should speak to you, that he should clear the grounds, but instead all his body could do was press his lips on yours. How he missed how perfect they felt against his. He pulled away just as quick, satisfied with the feeling he could steal for a moment. 

The round ended, the break started, and he tried to get the conversation going. "I need to-"

"Ah, shit, I need to get back to my booth. Students usually pass by for information."

He nodded, the teacher's lounge just next to the two of you. He grabbed onto your arm, pulling you along, shutting the door behind you as his hands rested at either side of your head. 'Talk.' His brain said. 'Kiss'. His heart compelled. 

Somehow, between his memories of his conversation with Midoriya, reminding him that he should simply talk to you, and the desperation flooding through him, needing you closer even if your lips barely separated, you had ended up dragging him to the couch. With your knee between his legs, while you hovered above him. Your fingers fumbling with his belt as you tried to keep your moans suppressed while his hands teased your breasts over the fabric of your shirt and bra. 

"We don't have that much time." You reprimanded him, pushing his hands away, giving him another quick kiss. 

"It's not like you're missing anything." Bakugou responded, wanting to pull you on top of him to drag out the moment, even if the bulge in his pants kept growing increasingly uncomfortable. "Isn't that coworker handling it?"

You rolled your eyes. "You and I both know that he's incapable as hell. Also the next round is starting soon." Your lips found their way to his jaw, trailing soft kisses as you pulled his belt from him, purposefully brushing the back of your hand over his crotch. 

A soft sigh escaped him as he tilted his head to the side. "Weren't you going to rewatch the festival during your 'vacation' anyways?"

You hummed. "Mhm, but I gotta see it in person." You made quick work of unbuttoning his pants, slowly pulling the zipper down as your other hand applied soft pressure to his crotch. How you loved the groans he tried so hard to keep to himself. 

"What happened to not having time?" He repeated, his gaze following you as you lowered yourself, knees to the ground, your body tucked between the low coffee table and the couch. You didn't answer, but based on your expression he could tell you were enjoying yourself. 

Except suddenly you grew serious and Bakugou did not have to wonder why that was. 

"Shit, you can't be serious-" 

He couldn't finish his sentence, a low moan escaping him, his pants long since lowered, your hand on his dick - your quirk fluctuating in a way that made his head spin. Your thumb only grazing his tip, the cold feel sending shivers through him, while your palm heated up to take away from the sensation. Your warm tongue agains this tip, quick flicks teasing him, but you remained focussed, your hand cooling down to shift the sensation. 

Bakugou balled his hands into fists, resting at his sides while he tried his best to calm his breathing, the pleasure rolling over him in waves. 

The hum in the back of your throat. The flicking of your tongue. The way your lips wrapped around his cock. The change in temperature. The sensation resting at the base of his length as you took him in deeper. 

"Ah fuck!" Bakugou gasped out, pushing the back of his hand against his lips as his head shot back. He came. The heat in his cheeks deepening as not only his ears grew red as hell, but it seemed his entire face was affected. His chest heaved as he watched you swallow every last bit of him and he couldn't believe how smug you looked up at him. 

"Told you there wasn't much time." You said, the amused grin remaining on your lips as he still fought to recompose himself. 

"Who the fuck taught you that?" He asked, incredulous that you would ever consider using your quirk. 

"I just thought it would be a fun test." You responded, your own voice betraying how flustered you felt at his reaction, despite the previous superiority. "Oh, don't be embarrassed by it, I think you were really cute." You teased, smiling with your tongue tucked between your teeth. 

Bakugou got dressed, fixing his shirt while you were ready to leave, the announcements of the next round commencing rolling through the school. Except he pulled you back, his lips finding yours again, his hand craving for your fingers to be intertwined. 

"Bakugou-" You pulled away but he pulled you back into him. There was no additional motive to his actions. His hand squeezed yours softly as if he was trying to send a message with the rhythm. His other hand cupped your cheek. His lips reached for yours because he was simply in need of your proximity. 

And when he wasn't kissing you, he held you near. His arms wrapped around you, his face leaning against your chest as he listened to your heartbeat, from a raging mess to a calming lullaby. "Bakugou." You said again, trying to get his attention, but your hands had found their own way to connect to him. Fingers entangled in his hair. Fingers rubbing circles into his back. 

"Stay a moment." He responded. 

"Mhm..." You hummed. "I should have some time."