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It’s become somewhat of a tradition since settling into the dorms that the girls all settle for a special night on Fridays. These days are specially for the girls, where they can talk and joke and eat junk food without worrying about their weight or hero work. After they become closer, it also becomes a night where they can talk about boy troubles (or, in some of their cases, girl troubles). It’s one of these nights when it happens.
Momo is sitting on the bed, with Ashido-san painting her nails a lovely shade of red while the pink-skinned girl chatters about an allegedly handsome new pro hero that is rising in the ranks. The other girls are sprawled around the room, eating and putting on face masks as they listen to her. Ashido’s animated words are cut off by a muted but still loud thunk from outside the room that has them all jumping instinctively. They all exchange a moment’s eye contact, before Uraraka, who is the closest to the door, edges up to crack the door open slightly. The sight they’re greeted with is not unfamiliar, but they still stare in confusion. Bakugou has pinned a wailing Mineta to the wall, snarling obscenities as the smaller boy squirms under him. “-fucking end your pathetic life if you keep being a creepy shitstain-” the blonde is spitting viciously, while Mineta garbles out something unintelligible in response, trying to maintain an air of indignance while simultaneously shrinking under his glare.
The girls all blink at the scene, before Uraraka coughs awkwardly from behind the door, making the two males whip around to stare at her. “Everything alright here, boys?” she asks curiously. Bakugou’s expression twists into irritation again at the question, and Mineta perks up at the sight of her, trying to crane his neck to stare past her into the room. She cringes in disgust, but before she can push the door closed, Bakugou is pushing the purple-haired boy back into the wall, shifting so he blocks his view completely. The blonde turns to give her a brief glance. “Go back to your weird girl shit while I kill this asshole,” he spits dismissively, and Mineta flails in argument. “No, Bakugou, stop being a freaking cockblock! I’m just trying to get in on some of that girls’ night action!” He whines petulantly. Uraraka recoils at his words, and she and the girls all give Bakugou a new appreciative look as they realise what he's doing. Mineta continues to wail about boobs and short-shorts and Bakugou leans back, taking a deep breath before he fists his hand in the front of Mineta’s shirt and one-handedly punts him across the corridor. The girls all simultaneously breathe a (probably cruel but somewhat justified) sigh of relief at the dull, far-away thud the boy’s body makes upon impact with cement.
“Thank you, Bakugou!” Uraraka beams, and he turns to give her a look that is slightly less murderous but still irritated.
“Fucking whatever, he deserv-” he begins before cutting himself off, nose crinkling in disgust at something unknown. “-What the fuck is burning?”
Uraraka blinks at him, before turning back to stare at where Hagakure has been innocuously straightening Asui’s hair with a flat iron. He follows her gaze to them, before his expression shutters into something that she would call horror if she didn’t know him better. “What the fuck,” he mutters, voice slightly strangled. They all stare back at him. After a moment of silence, he finally says, quietly, “Invisible Bitch, if you didn’t put heat protector on that shit I’m gonna commit homicide.”
Hagakure freezes, before her shirt curls inward as she shrinks in a blatantly guilty gesture. “Um,” she squeaks, and Ochako swears to god she hears Bakugou whimper, quietly enough that no one else notices. He closes his eyes, taking another deep breath, and Ochako is just so proud that he’s trying to control his anger lately. This pride disappears when he opens his eyes again with a new, downright murderous glint in them. “Put the straightener down,” he says quietly enough that she drops it instantly in pure terror. “Sorry!” she says quickly, and he gifts her trembling figure with a deadly glare. “You should be.”
The rest of the girls watch this exchange in silence, trying to process it, before Momo perks up in understanding.
“Oh! Deku-kun did mention to us that your parents are in the fashion industry, so it makes sense that you’d be knowledgeable about hair!”
He turns to glare (harmlessly) at her. “Deku’s a fucking stalker,” he says, but he makes no effort to deny the claim and Ashido jumps up to stare at him hopefully. “Join us!” she chirps. “You can give us some fashion tips as an honorary member of girls’ night!”
No one argues with her, with them all seemingly wanting the elusive boy to stay so they can find more secrets about him. He fixes her with an absolutely blank stare, before deadpanning, “No,” and turning on his heel to stomp out the door. They all protest immediately, now invested in his staying, and Ashido very bravely grabs his arm to bodily yank him back into the room. “No! You have to stay now! What happens if Mineta comes back!” she says desperately, and he stops to think about this for a moment before shrugging her hand off anyway. “You’re hero students, you’ve taken on worse than him before.”
They all begin to complain, but Ashido stares at him in frustration, before turning to Hagakure with a cunning gleam in her eye. “Alright then, get back to straightening Tsuyu’s hair, Tooru-chan,” she says happily, and Bakugou freezes in his tracks.
He turns back around, so slowly that Hagakure freezes again, the poor girl blanching under his unrelenting death stare. “If you fucking pick that flat iron up again, Invisible Bitch, I will tie that cord around your neck and strangle you with it,” he says sincerely. She audibly swallows, inching away from the innocent-looking flat iron.
Ashido turns to give him a challenging glare. “What are you gonna do about it, then? We don’t know how to do it properly, and it’s not like anyone knowledgeable is willing to help us.”
She takes a step toward the flat iron herself, and the blonde visibly twitches, expression contorting into one of pain. “You are a terrible person,” he breathes. “Fucking demon. You’re evil.” Ashido beams at him happily. He wilts in defeat, before pushing past her to snatch the flat iron from the floor and unplug it.
“Do any of you fucking idiots even own heat protector?”
They all blink back at him innocently, and he groans, rubbing the heel of his palm into his forehead with a jaded sigh.
“No one fucking touch the flat iron,” he mutters, before turning to stomp out of the room. They all sit in shock at the events of the past five minutes, and he’s soon walking back in with a huge bag in his arms, kicking the door shut behind him. He sets it down on the floor and straightens to glare at them all.
“How many of you used the flat iron?” he asks finally. “Don’t try and hide it, my expectations are already at the fucking floor.” They all shrink, before Asui, Uraraka and Ashido raise their hands slowly. He heaves a deep sigh, muttering something colourful under his breath and turning to walk out of the room again. This time he returns with a bowl, filled with what looks like yoghurt.
He sighs again, sinking to the floor beside Asui and beginning to rummage through the large bag. She blinks at the bowl and turns to look at Bakugou curiously. “What is it, Bakugou-chan?” she asks. He grunts from where he’s emerged holding what looks like a brush. “Hair mask,” he says, dipping the brush into the white mixture and mixing it. “You know how to do this shit, or am I gonna have to?” he says like he’s dreading the answer. She ribbits sheepishly, and he groans, before raising the brush and leaning up to smear it across the roots of her hair with surprising gentleness. He evenly spreads it across her entire scalp, before moving to section her thick hair into parts with ease that speaks of experience. They all watch, enraptured by this quiet, placid side to him.
Of course, it is Ashido that breaks the silence again.
“So, anyways, about this hero, Recoil,” she begins. “He’s like, super dreamy, yeah? And in this interview he talked about his younger sister and it was the cutest shit.” They all hum in agreement, and Bakugou silently continues to mask Asui’s hair in sections, expression slightly pinched but still miles more relaxed than usual. She continues to ramble about him, and how he only graduated recently but is already in the top 200 list.
“What’s his quirk?” Jirou asks curiously at some point from where she’s been eating popcorn, slumped against the side of the bed. Ashido pouts in thought. “Hm, I’m not really sure…” she mutters, and Bakugou seems to debate against something in his head, before he bites out a quick, “Boomerang,” without looking up from Asui’s hair.
They all turn to him curiously, and he glances up at the attention before turning back to his work with a pointed scowl. “His quirk. It lets him turn objects into boomerangs. He can throw them and they come back. Only objects small enough that he can pick them up, though. Or whatever,” he says after a moment of expectant silence.
Ashido hums, nodding in agreement. “Makes sense,” she agrees, and she opens her mouth to continue, but Momo cuts her off. “How did you know that, Katsuki-kun?” she asks curiously. Ashido laughs, chirping, “Bakubabe’s a total hero otaku, didn’t you know? He’s closeted, but he’s totally way worse than Midoriya!”
Bakugou hurls a comb at her without looking up from Asui’s hair, snarling, and Momo hums thoughtfully. “Ah, yes, but… Recoil is a relatively new hero. He’s not very well-known yet, and he’s not very flashy either. It’s still quite interesting that Katsuki-kun knows this much about him.” She only means it as a passing comment, but the blonde completely freezes, and his cheeks begin to flush.
Uraraka perks up instantly at the sight, leaning in to stare at him in excitement. “Eh, spill, Bakugou!” she cheers, and the other girls join in excitedly.
He growls, before muttering something under his breath. They hush instantly, leaning in subconsciously and waiting for him to repeat himself. His blush darkens, and he fixedly stares at Asui’s hair despite the girl herself now looking at him expectantly.
“He’s kinda hot,” he blurts, before letting out a quiet “Fuck,” and looking like he wants to sink into the floor.
They all stare at him in shock, before the room erupts into cheers and chatter, the girls shoving at him playfully.
“Ehhh, Bakugou-sama! You dog!” Ashido is jeering, and Jirou smirks at him around a mouthful of popcorn kernels, reaching a foot out to nudge his thigh teasingly.
The blonde’s blush deepens at all the ribbing, and he buries his face in his hands, completely abandoning the hair mask.
“I didn’t know you liked guys?!” Uraraka cries in disbelief, and he chokes out a muffled “I’m fucking bi,” from where he’s curling into himself in embarrassment, hands still covering his face.
Hagakure perks up, leaning in to whisper, “So then, the rumours about you and Kirishima-?” and receiving a pillow to the face in response.
“Fuck off, that’s gross!” he cries, leaning away as Ashido inches closer with a leer. “Then… Deku-kun?” she asks innocuously, and he flails so hard he almost takes her out. “I’m fucking leaving!” he announces, jumping to his feet only to be physically hauled back down by multiple hands instantly.
“No! You’re one of us now!” Hagakure cries ceremoniously, and the girls all holler in agreement.
Bakugou makes eye contact with Momo from where she’s sitting peacefully across the room, sipping at an iced-tea. He gives her a pleading look, cheeks still a deep red, and she smirks back smugly.
“Traitor,” he mutters under his breath, and she beams.
Ashido is half-sitting on him at this point, in her attempts to keep him down. “Then what’s up with you and Deku-kun?” she asks desperately. “You gotta spill! You’re one of us, so you have to!”
He snarls at her, biting out a loud, “I didn’t ask to be part of your shitty girl group!”
She stares at him in disapproval and he sighs, before muttering, “there’s nothing up with me and Deku. I was shitty, he was too nice. I’m fixing it.”
She blinks before prying with a cheeky, “so you two have never…? ” that makes him recoil in disgust. “Shitty Deku is like an annoying younger brother. That’s gross.”
The second the words leave his mouth, he blinks and stiffens, before breathing out a musing, “Huh,” as if he’s surprised himself, and his cheeks redden again slightly. Ashido starts to coo at his blush, and he decides he’s had enough mushiness and pushes her off to return to Asui’s hair.
“If any of what I just said leaves this room, I’m killing all of you,” he says off-handedly after a few moments.
“Not even about you having a crush on Recoil?” Asui croaks, and he turns to scowl at her, blush returning full-force.
“Especially that, Frog-bitch!” before stiffening and tacking on a hasty, futile “I don’t have a crush on him!” that makes them all smile at him knowingly.
They continue to talk about random things like homework, before the topic shifts back to crushes.
“Okay, this could get kind of awkward but on the subject of crushes, I thought Bakugou had a crush on Uraraka for the longest time,” Ashido confesses.
Bakugou, who had finished with Asui’s hair and shifted to Uraraka’s, freezes in confusion, letting out a bewildered “Hah?”
Uraraka blushes, and he shifts away from her slightly when the rest of the girls turn to look at the two of them with an appraising glint in their eyes.
“Why ?” he asks, too confused to be defensive.
Ashido shrugs. “You treated her differently after the sports festival. She’s the only one you call by name other than Kirishima and Deku-kun.”
He blinks again, before muttering, “it wasn’t because I liked her. It was because I respect her. She put up a good fight.”
His response is slow, thoughtful and lacking his usual bite. The girls digest this information for a moment, and Uraraka turns to stare back at him in confusion. “But I lost? ” she argues, and he blinks at her. “So? You fought a lot better than Icy-hot or any of the other fuckers. That last move was fucking badass.”
She blushes at the compliment, and stares at him in wonder. “I… I thought you felt bad. For going all out on me. The last move didn’t even… touch you.”
He scowls at her, before forcefully turning her head back to face away so he can continue to section her hair.
“I didn’t feel bad for going all out on you. I don’t. You’re not weak, that last move fucked my arm up bad. You were easily the only person who even came close to beating me during the festival.”
She sits stiffly and processes this, a small smile overtaking her face finally. “Thank you, Bakugou,” she says finally. “That means a lot.”
He scoffs, and ignores how all of the girls are smiling at him with stupidly soft and sappy eyes.
“You know, Bakugou-chan, you’re quite kind. Even though you like to pretend you’re a bad person,” Asui says, and he kicks at her blindly, snarling around the comb between his teeth. The other girls hum in agreement, and Momo takes the opportunity to pipe in, “I know you didn’t want me to thank you but I still really do appreciate what you did for me that day.”
The others, of course, perk up at this curiously, and she tells them the story happily, ignoring his indignant protests. When she’s done, the other girls are beaming at Bakugou with something like pride, and he’s scowling irritably.
“That was so sweet of you!” Hagakure cries, and he swears colourfully, aggressively smearing more white onto Uraraka’s hair. “Keep fucking still,” he growls at the pink-cheeked girl who is giggling.
“That reminds me of the time I bled through my skirt and you gave me a jacket and painkillers! You were so kind about it!” she chirps, and Bakugou freezes. Uraraka happily begins to retell the event as Bakugou finishes with her hair and wishes he never fucking came to this god-forsaken room.
When she’s finished, Jirou is quick to add a smug, “Bakugou was the one who bought me the pink hair-clips. I saw them at the store but I didn’t buy them because I thought they wouldn’t fit my aesthetic. He bought them later that day and gave them to me and told me they suited me. The whole pink nail polish thing he did was to convince me to wear them.”
Bakugou is glaring at her by the end, and she winks at him, flicking a piece of popcorn at him that he catches in his mouth easily.
The girls start to coo again, whining about his hidden fucking soft side or whatever.
“You’re like our guardian angel!” Ashido sighs dreamily. “Our little demonic, tsundere guardian angel! Who knew you were such a sweetheart?”
He shoves her off the bed, ignoring her squawk of protest, and finishes up Uraraka’s hair.
“You’re next, loser, get back up here,” he says, gesturing to Ashido, and she glares at him incredulously. “What do you mean get back up here, you asshole, you pushed me off!”
He smirks at her in response and she pouts, climbing back up onto the bed.
“Say, Bakugou, if you don’t have a crush on Deku-kun or Kirishima or Uraraka, is there anyone in our class you’ve liked?” Hagakure asks curiously, and he stares at her flatly.
“No.”
She whines, and then says, “okay, then if you had to date someone in our class, who would it be?”
Bakugou pins her with an analysing look that is scarily accurate considering he can’t see her eyes, before shrugging. “Tail-guy, I guess.”
She blinks, and Asui croaks out an incredulous, “You mean Ojiro-chan?”
He nods in confirmation, and she tilts her head in confusion.
“I didn’t even know you knew Ojiro existed…” Uraraka mutters.
Bakugou shrugs again, much more relaxed in their presence now that he’s acclimated.
“He’s a third-dan black belt. That’s fucking cool. And the shit he did at the sports festival with the brainwash guy was pretty cool, too.”
They all blink at this development, and he smirks at Hagakure knowingly.
“Don’t worry, I’m not stealing your man or anything.” he says, and she freezes, before crying out in denial, flailing helplessly.
“I-it’s not like that!” she cries, and he just grins.
The girls turn to nudge Hagakure playfully, cheering.
“How did you even know?!” the invisible girl wails at him accusingly, and he snorts.
“I have eyes, bitch.”
She continues to whine, and Bakugou decides that a certain pink-cheeked girl is getting too comfortable with her teasing so he adds on, “Oi, Uraraka, while we’re on this topic can you fucking hurry up and confess to Deku so I don’t have to hear him bitch about how nice you are anymore?”
Said girl turns a deep red almost instantly, and starts to float upward as she covers her face in shame.
“I don’t like Deku-kun!” she cries, drifting into a corner against the ceiling. Asui’s tongue reaches up to wrap around her ankle and pull her back down gently, setting her against the bed and patting her back consolingly.
“Eh, Bakugou’s got the tea on everyone!” Ashido complains, and he turns to give her a blank smile.
“I see everything,” he says eerily, and she fights a shiver. “Um, okay.” she says quickly. “Moving on, tell us embarrassing stuff about Deku.”
He perks up at this instantly, a genuine smile overcoming his face at the opportunity to embarrass the green-haired boy. “Oh, fuck yes,” he breathes, before launching into a story about their childhood.
“-Wait,” Ashido wheezes ten minutes later between breaths. “S-so you’re telling me he measured your weight daily ? How did he even do that without you noticing? ”
Bakugou throws his hands up, crying out an expasperated “I don’t fucking know! ” that sends the room into another fit of laughter.
Uraraka is crying with glee, floating upwards again slowly. “How did he know what your sweat tasted like, though?” she asks hoarsely, wiping away tears. He looks her straight in the eye and says, “Fucker snuck into my room at night to lick my palm,” with a weathered look that pushes her into another fit of giggles.
Jirou snorts from where she’s lying on the floor. Man, I know you call him a stalker and all but that’s seriously- how the fuck are you doing that?”
She sits up, cutting herself off mid-sentence to stare in awe as Bakugou starts to weave a waterfall braid into Momo’s hair after finishing with Ashido’s hair mask. She leans in to watch him smoothly loop the hair off, continuing it into a mermaid braid with an ease that has her jaw dropping.
“What the fuck, man?”
Ashido leans up to stare at the braid, and then looks to Bakugou to say, “you’re coming back next week. And the week after. And always. You’ve been promoted from temporary honorary member to permanent member.”
Uraraka turns to gaze at him from where she’s admiring Momo’s hair. “You’re one of the girls now,” she announces with conviction.
Bakugou raises a brow. “Do I get a choice?” he asks, and receives a resounding no from all six of the girls that has him sighing in fake irritation. “Guess I’m stuck with you lot, then.”
They cheer excitedly, and he futilely fails to dodge the hugs that he’s suddenly attacked by.
“We’re watching Ouran High School Host Club next week. You’re gonna love it,” Hagakure says from under his armpit.
He turns to stare at her affrontedly. “The fuck do you mean I’m gonna love it, I’ve already watched it. Hikaru and Kaoru can fucking get it."
The girls stare at him for a moment with something like awe, before Ashido sighs. “Man, I fucking love you. You’re the best. Why didn’t we do this earlier?”
She’s met with grunts of agreement, and a smug smirk from Bakugou.
-
When Shouta walks into the dorm, he finds Kirishima and the other boys nervously running around the common room.
“Ah! Sensei! Have you seen Bakugou?” the red-head asks panickedly. “He wasn’t in his bed.”
Shouta is on edge instantly, but before he can say anything Asui is chiming in from where she’s been making a pot of tea.
“Bakugou-chan is in Mina-chan’s room with the rest of the girls,” she croaks, not hesitating to smack her tongue over Mineta’s mouth when the boy starts to argue about betrayals.
“He spent the night. We didn’t do anything weird, we all just talked.”
Shouta stares at her with narrowed eyes for a moment, before nodding.
“Alright, I trust you. Is everyone else accounted for?” he addresses Kirishima, who’s still processing Asui’s words with shock but manages a brief nod in response to the question.
As Shouta leaves the room, he overhears Kirishima ask Asui what they talked about with Bakugou for the whole night. The girl tells him it’s a secret, and the cries of protest from Kirishima and Kaminari ring in Shouta’s ears even from a distance.
His kids are stupid, Shouta muses. But he’s glad Bakugou is branching out- god knows the kid needed to.