BNHA | Oɴᴇsʜᴏᴛs

Timing Is Everything [Katsuki Bakugou x Reader]

Author's Note: For me Bakugou is a character with a lot of potential. You can writepretty much anything with him, and it would work. At least for me.

Part 1: Timing is Everything

The wind carried a slight chill as graduation crept closer. The training fields were mostly empty that late afternoon, golden sunlight casting long shadows from the few students still around. [Y/N] had spent the last three years loving Todoroki Shoto quietly, tucked behind the calm demeanour expected of someone whose hands were always mending others.

She'd spent enough time around Recovery Girl that Aizawa barely blinked when she disappeared for hours. He trusted her. Everyone did. She had to be the composed one, especially around blood, panic, pain. But emotions? Those, unfortunately, did not come with a medical manual.

Today was supposed to be different. After years of pretending, she had finally decided, she was going to tell Todoroki how she felt. Mina had squealed earlier, hugging her tight and whispering something like "Go get him, angel girl." She could hear Kaminari teasing from a distance, and even Bakugou grumbled something barely intelligible but vaguely supportive in his own gruff way.

Her steps were quiet as she approached the training ground, heart pounding against her ribs. She spotted him quickly. Todoroki was standing not far off, hair tousled from training, his back half-turned to her. And in front of him...

Momo Yaoyorozu.
Blushing.
Her hands pressed to her chest.
And then, she leaned in. Pressed a soft kiss to Todoroki's cheek.

The world swayed.

It was just a second. Maybe two. But in those seconds, her stomach flipped, the air was gone from her lungs, and every inch of her skin prickled with ice and fire. His elements, how ironic.

She took a shaky step back, nausea washing over her like a wave she couldn't brace for. Her fingers twitched uselessly at her side, her breath caught in a stuttered inhale, but then...

A large, rough hand slid over her eyes from behind. The warmth of a palm she recognized instantly. The other hand grabbed her shoulder to steady her.

"Tsk... what a shit ass situation," came Bakugou's voice low and annoyed, not at her, but for her.

She didn't say anything. Her lips parted, but the words stuck, strangled by the lump growing in her throat. Bakugou didn't move his hand for a moment, shielding her from a sight she couldn't unsee.

"Come on," he muttered finally, his voice softer now, rare. "You're not doing this here."

And with that, he turned her gently away from the scene, like a shield in the shape of a friend.

She let him steer her away, her legs moving numbly across the grass, the world a blur of motion and noise she wasn't fully part of anymore. Bakugou didn't say much, he wasn't the type to, especially not now, but his hand stayed steady on her shoulder, grounding her.

They ended up near one of the old observation decks overlooking the sparring fields. It was quiet, tucked behind the trees. She leaned against the railing, not trusting her legs to do the whole "hero stance" thing right now.

"I really thought I was over the whole dramatic heartbreak thing," she muttered, trying to inject a sliver of humour into her voice. It came out cracked.

Bakugou crossed his arms, standing next to her. "You didn't deserve that."

"I don't think they did anything wrong," she said softly, throat tight. "I was just... too late."