Smoke and Embers | Bakugo x reader fanfic

I Get It

Warning: Long-ass chapter ahead. It gets a little hot, so grab some popcorn and be warned! (18+)

~~~~

Your point of view

The bathroom was spinning. 

Well, not the bathroom itself, but my head was spinning, and Bakugo's stern expression wasn't helping. 

He stood over me, glaring down like I triggered something in him. 

I caught his eye, and despite the way everything around me seemed to sway, a slow grin spread across my face.

"You're... y'know, you're cute when you're all grumpy," I slurred, taking the opportunity to poke him right in the chest, feeling the solidness of him. He batted my hand away, but not before his jaw twitched, like he was trying to hold back whatever frustration I was causing. His face turned a deeper shade of red, and it wasn't from the heat of the party.

He grabbed my wrist, a little roughly at first. But then I couldn't help but notice how gentle it felt—like he didn't want to let me go. 

It made my heart thump harder in my chest, and despite the alcohol clouding my brain, that feeling cut through everything else, clear as day.

Bakugo rolled his eyes, tugging me upright. "Shut up, you idiot," he muttered, but his voice lacked the usual edge, and his face was darker. 

"You're drunk as hell. Can you even sit up straight?"

But he didn't let go of my wrist, even as I swayed against him, leaning into his chest with a content sigh. I pressed my forehead against him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. He stiffened at the contact, but didn't push me away, and that only made my grin widen. 

Maybe he wasn't as tough as he pretended to be. 

I knew underneath all that bluster, he actually liked being close to me.

I glanced up at him, batting my eyelashes with exaggerated drama. "Aw, come on, Bakugo... don't pretend you don't like it when I'm close to you," I murmured, my voice dipping into a teasing whisper. 

I watched with satisfaction as his cheeks flushed an even deeper red, his expression caught between annoyance and something he didn't want to name.

He let out a low, frustrated growl, like he was fighting every urge to put some distance between us but couldn't quite bring himself to do it. 

"Don't belittle someone who just saved your ass from puking all over and embarrassing the shit out of yourself." he shot back, trying to sound harsh, but there was an unconvincing edge to his voice that even I could hear through the haze of alcohol.

I pouted dramatically, "You're sucha dickk. You didn't have to help, just admit you have  a soft spot for me," I purred. 

He grit his teeth, the muscles in his jaw flexing as he tried to keep his composure. 

"Damn it, you're impossible," he muttered under his breath, but he didn't step back. 

He didn't let go. And that was all I needed to know, and he wasn't actually mad. Not really.

I laughed softly, leaning even closer, until I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. "You like me, don't you?" I whispered, my breath ghosting against his neck. I felt him flinch, his grip on my wrist tightening almost reflexively. I can't help but just giggle at my situation.

He glared down at me, his eyes blazing, but there was a flicker of something else beneath the surface—something vulnerable that he didn't want me to see.