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You're not dumb. Not totally dumb, at least. Maybe like a solid 77%, but that other 23% is pure genius. At least that's what you tell yourself as you complete your half-assed semi-circle pentagram on your living room floor. This is gonna work, you encourage yourself. You feel a proud grin spread across your face as you survey your handiwork: a hastily-drawn pentagram in glittery red gel pen, a tall white candle with an extremely cheesy print of Saint Barbara holding some sort of golden chalice, and a Grumpy Cat plushie (What? He's successful! You gotta respect that). You nod to yourself in satisfaction. But… you're forgetting something.
You peer down at the grimoire you're using as reference. The Demon-Summoning For Idiots book looks somehow old and new at the same time, it's pages yellowing and frayed, but the front cover strangely glossy and unmarred. You shrug to yourself. Must have been a creative choice from the author.
Your eyes flicker down the list of necessary items to perform your ritual. What else did you need? Oh. Blood.
Maybe you should have read all the instructions before you started this. You sigh. You don't really like the idea of just giving up, but you're not sure where you'd get blood at this time of ni-
You gasp.
Wait a second! You were full of blood, you thought cheerfully. You bet if you grabbed a sewing needle and squeezed a little, that'd do the trick!
It's as you move to stand up, foot slipping in the still drying ink that you face plant into the floor, a sharp throbbing pain blooming over your nose, effectively knocking over your candle which in turn lights the Grumpy Cat plushie on fire. You shout in panic, hands dancing over the grizzled stuffed toy, certainly grumpier now that it was alight than it had been before hiding comfortably in the very back of your closet.
You feel hot liquid march down your nostrils as you grab the cindering plushie and whack it into your carpet in hopes of putting out the small flames. Blood drips from the tip of your smarting nose and into the pentagram, one drop, then two, three. They make a soft sizzling sound as they sink into your now ruined carpet, burning dark red holes into the cheap material. A plume of smoke rises from the centre of your shitty summoning circle followed shortly by what sounds like a small explosion and a bright flash of light. You flinch away and the smoke expands immediately, thick and grey and choking the air out of your lungs. You cough and hack, waving your hand emphatically in front of your face as you try to clear the air around you. Blood continues to drip down your face in rivulets.
"Where in the hell am I?!" A voice you decidedly did not invite to this party shouts. Or maybe you did, demon-summoning and all.
He stands in the centre of your summoning circle, body held stiffly as though prepared for some sort of attack. He doesn't look much like a demon, not that you really have a point of reference for such a judgement. He has a deep scowl, spikey blonde hair, and two dark, twisting horns nestled in his unruly mop. And a piercing red glare that could peel the paint off a car.
You blink up at him in astonishment. Huh. Maybe he does look kinda demonic.
As the smoke finally clears away he takes one look at you as you sit before him covered in soot and blood. His face does something complicated before apparently settling on pissed off.
"What the fuck?!"
Maybe 77% dumb was being generous.
-
You stare at his horns. He glares. You blink. He scowls. You blink again and he grinds his teeth.
"Um," You begin.
He studies you from where you still sit at his feet. He holds an air of arrogance the likes of which you've never seen before but it doesn't really register in light of the circumstances. He watches you from down his nose as though you're the very dirt on his shoes, arms crossed unhappily.
You blink blankly once more, eyeing the gentle curve of his ebony horns wonderingly and the way they sit innocuously within his soft-looking hair. He looks like he's about to say something. Probably something rude if the tick in his forehead is anything to go by.
You're quick to head him off.
"Can I touch your horny bits?"
He blanches.
Always best to start these things off with propriety.
-
He wasn't thrilled about your perfectly innocent request to feel up his horns (even less so when you tried reaching for them despite his protests) so you decide to move on from your apparent faux pas (though the spectacular glare he levels you with when you say so suggests he hasn't quite forgiven you for your wording). You clean yourself up from the blood and soot that had covered your person and sit on the couch across from where he stands.
You offer him your name. He doesn't respond. You try again.
"It's (Your Name)."
"I heard you the first time." He grouses.
You wait a beat. Nothing. You raise an eyebrow.
"I'm (Your Name)." You reiterate once more.
It's as he's grinding out his own name as though it physically pains him to do so that a thought occurs to you. "Actually," you ask, ignoring his theatrics, "isn't there some thing about demons not giving out their names?"
He scoffs. "Only cowards and idiots worry about stuff like that."
"Okay." You pause. "Bakugo".
His eyes are intense.
-
He mentions someone named Deku. When he talks about him (loudly), his grin is fierce but his eyes are bright. A friend from his own world? You wouldn't think so based on the way he spoke about the guy, but you figured out early on that Bakugo was as emotionally constipated as they came, so you figured 'friend' was the most probable answer.
What concerns you is a comment he makes in passing.
"I can already see Deku running around like a moron looking for me." He shouts angrily, hands slicing through the air animatedly. "If I get back there I'm gonna kick his ass."
'If I get back there.'
'If.'
You start to wonder. You pulled him through that portal and it was obvious he hadn't been expecting it. He didn't know where he was, you recall. He was surprised to see you. Did you trap him here? The book you'd originally used to call him here had burnt up after the demon had appeared, so you have no way of referring to it for guidance on this particular issue.
You gnaw on your lip in consternation.
How would you even go about sending him back? You wonder if the demon world accepts returns without receipts.
-
He's really very loud, you consider as he shouts belligerently at Mario through the television when he dies for the millionth time. It's not poor Mario's fault Bakugo sucks at video games. He also sits way too close to the t.v., you realize as you eye him from across the room. Like a child. And he's pretty damn rude most of the time. But, your eyes flicker back up to his shiny horns and you bite your lip, you really wanna touch them.
Your living arrangements these days are very different than you're used to, having lived alone for so long. It's basically like living with an especially abrasive roommate. Except your roommate is a demon.
"Stop staring at my damn horns!"
The demand startles you and your gaze shifts down to see him giving you a dirty look. You can't find it in yourself to even feign sheepishness and his eyes narrow at your helpless shrug. He returns to losing at his game with a grunt.
Sometimes you wonder why you bother to put up with him at all. Sometimes you wonder why he bothers to put up with you.
-
How would you even go about sending him back?
The question haunts you every time you set your eyes on him.
He's begun to notice.
"What?!" He shouts in frustration.
Guilt eats away at you but you don't respond. Another question weighs heavily on your mind.
What would you do when he's gone?
-
You find a cat in the street in front of your apartment. Soft black fur, big ruby eyes. As allergic to touchy feely stuff as Bakugo if the way it inches away from you when you try to pet it is any indication.
You finally give up trying to touch the cat and it settles, eyeing you from a few feet away.
"Hey cat." You start uncertainly.
The cat watches you silently.
"I have this friend. He's… not a nice guy." You ruminate for a moment, chuckling softly. "But he is a good guy. Oh, also he's a demon!"
The cat looks surprised, or at least as surprised as a cat can look.
"I think I've stranded him here."
"Mrow?"
You nod dolefully, arms around your legs as you sit next to the small feline you're commiserating with.
You're full of conflicting emotions as you step through the door nearly an hour later. Bakugo stiffens when you walk past him, mouth a thin line and eyes following your retreat suspiciously.
-
You worry you won't find a way to get him home. You worry you will.
He catches you staring again.
-
"You haven't told me why I'm here yet." Bakugo tells you one morning.
You look up from scrolling on your phone curiously. "What do you mean?"
He huffs at you. "I mean, you summoned a demon. You did it for a reason, right?" He asks unkindly.
Oh. Yeah. "I forgot about that."
He looks at you like you're stupid, his lip curling in disgust.
You decidedly ignore his snark. "I needed rent money."
Bakugo nearly chokes. "You were willing to sell yourself for that? What are you, an idiot?"
You think about your life choices and decide, no, you're not an idiot. "Did I sell my soul?"
He sighs loudly, sounding extremely put out. What a drama queen.
He frowns before apparently deigning to grace you with an explanation. "When you summon a demon, the last thing you throw into the pentagram is supposed to be what you offer in exchange for the summons."
You tap your finger against your lip thoughtfully. "What was the last thing I threw in?" You wonder aloud.
"You don't re- Ugh. Moron! It was your blood!"
Oh.
He stares at you like he's expecting some grand reaction. You're not sure what.
"So, what did I trade exactly? My blood?" You dismiss, disinterestedly. "What good is that? Seems kinda stupid if you ask me. You might be bad at haggling, Bakugo."
You can hear his teeth grinding from here. He really looks like he wants to throttle you.
You shrug.
"But I do need some money."
He sighs again and flaps a hand in the air carelessly. "We could rob a bank." He says, but he doesn't sound convinced, looking doubtfully at your distinct lack of muscle.
You affect a thoughtful pose.
"Hmm. You really think we could pull something like that off?"
"I was kidding, you dipshit. No way you wouldn't get caught. You'd probably turn yourself in if they promised not to arrest you."
You feel like that was meant to be an insult. You're not really considering robbing a bank, but you admit the idea is quite fun to imagine.
"You couldn't do it alone?"
"Why the hell should I have to do all the work?!"
"That's true…" You say and your thoughtful expression shifts to guilt over stealing him away from his home to help you with your finances of all things in the first place. A fretful crease finds its way on your brow. Bakugo lours at it.
"But how am I gonna get the money, then?"
"Get a damn job!"
Oh. You hadn't thought of that.
-
You find the cat again, this time roaming the hall of your apartment complex. Maybe he lives here?
You find that you enjoy talking to your new furry friend. Mostly you talk about your new roommate and his tendency to shout obscenities when he dies in a video game or how he kicks you off the couch when you're trying to stretch out and how you really enjoy his company despite these things.
You find it very odd that a cat can sigh and look so exasperated.
-
You're drunk. You're crying. Guilt washes over you as you sit silently at your kitchen table. You want to help him get home, you do, but a selfish part of you wants him to stay.
Bakugo frowns at you when he comes home from wherever he goes during the day and puts the bottle of wine in the high cabinet above the fridge and out of your reach.
He plants his hands on the table next to you and leans forward angrily. "What is going on with you lately?!"
You sniffle and tell him. He doesn't look impressed.
"If I wanted to leave I would figure it out for myself."
But you see the lie for what it is. Your eyes begin to shine with fresh tears and Bakugo nearly flinches at the sight of them. You might laugh at his panicked expression were you not feeling so miserable.
He growls and grabs your hands, roughly placing them on either side of his head atop his horns. Your eyes widen and you start crying for an altogether different reason.
He refuses to meet your eyes and his cheeks burn a fascinating shade of pink as you run your fingers slowly up and down the smooth and bumpy slopes. You hum in satisfaction, eyes glued and fingers curious and ever shifting.
The line of his shoulders slowly relaxes as you continue your ministrations but you're too far gone to notice.
-
After last night you come to a decision.
He's not a bad guy. He's loud and obnoxious and can't play video games for shit but he's not a bad person.
And so you resolve to find a way to send him home. You resolve to give him the option, at least. You're not a warden, afterall. And he's not your prisoner.
-
You start doing research online. You scour the internet in hopes of finding something but you come up empty. Until you find yourself posting in a reddit forum. Seriously. Who would have thought? Someone in the forum suggests remaking the pentagram. They tell you to add in more blood this time. A lot more.
After all, they posit, getting to the human world is easy. It's getting to the demon world that's tricky. And really, you can't argue with that.
-
You tell the cat your plan. Well. Most of it anyway. Even without all the gory details it looks wholly unimpressed when you explain you're trying to send your demon home.
You swear this cat has gotten sassier lately. You chalk it up to a feline thing and try to recall just when exactly you began to think of the demon as yours.
When you get home you call out a greeting to Bakugo who stands in the kitchen pouring himself a glass of water.
He breathes in deeply and taps a finger on his glass irritatedly.
"Hey," he asks in a suspiciously neutral tone, finger still tapping a beat against his beverage, "did you bump into anyone on your way home?"
"No." You reply curiously.
He narrows his eyes at you.
The look he gives you makes you feel like you're lying even though you're not.
-
It hurts.
It occurs to you, as you're bleeding out over the pentagram you'd drawn, that you may have gravely miscalculated. Blood is rapidly flowing from your arm where you'd slid the knife, maybe deeper than you'd intended, and you're ready to admit you may need help. Still, if it works and you're able to get your idiot demon home where he belongs, you figure it's worth it.
He's a good boy, you think somewhat deliriously, he deserves good things.
You hear a shout that somewhere in your hazy mind you understand is your name and you try to lift your head but everything is heavy and difficult and you're just tired.
It hurts.
You're just fading out of consciousness when you hear a crash and feel pressure on your forearm. Hands scrambling to cover the wound, to stop the flow, to keep you from bleeding.
"I swear, if you even think about dying I'll kick your ass, you shitty human!"
He doesn't even sound angry. Just desperate. It makes you a little sad. It makes you a little happy.
The last thoughts you have are fond farewells and you push through all the hope you can muster that your friend makes it home safely.
But it hurts.
-
The first time you wake up, you're laying in a hospital bed. You feel like you're drunk and hungover at the same time; your head is spinning and there's a vague sensation of nausea. You try to understand what happened but the events slip past your fractured thoughts like sand. You groan. Your throat feels dry. Why is your throat so dry? After a few cloudy minutes you open your eyes, searching for water. Please let there be water.
You find the cat instead, sitting at the end of your bed. It looks remarkably pissed off somehow, tail flicking in annoyance.
You blink slowly in confusion, eyelids heavy and uncooperative and you fall back into another dreamless sleep.
-
You're still in the hospital bed when you wake up again, but this time there's no cat to keep you company and part of you wonders if that really happened in the first place. Another familiar red glower greets you instead.
He doesn't say anything, merely sits there with his arms crossed and the foulest look you've seen so far on his face.
You blink slowly and this time you feel like your eyelids cooperate somewhat more readily. You still feel like shit though, your thoughts slow and muddled.
You're disappointed your plan didn't work but guilt and shame are apparently too complicated of emotions to properly process right now and they flit away. You settle for feeling absolutely exhausted.
Somewhere in the mess that is your mind you realize that Bakugo found you bleeding out on the floor and must have called for an ambulance. You didn't even know demons knew how to use phones. He looks at you like you're an idiot when you mumble aloud your drug-addled thoughts. In his defence you kinda are.
-
Ever since what you've dubbed "The Incident" (to Bakugo's eternal irritation) your demon buddy has transformed into your demon shadow, following you everywhere you go, be it with his eyes or physically following you around as you run your errands. It's really starting to get on your nerves.
"Would you just chill out?" You snap. "Honestly, what do you think is gonna happen? I already told you I wouldn't try it again even though it's my life-"
He bares his teeth at you. "It's not."
"What does that even mean?!" You screech, at your wit's end.
He watches you quietly for a moment, eyebrow twitching, which immediately puts you on guard since he's never quiet. You didn't even know he knew how to do quiet. His gaze is deliberate and calculating, and you know he's planning something.
He slowly reaches both hands for your wrists, raises them, and holds your palms just over his horns. Your eyes widen and glitter.
You meet his gaze in awe but look away quickly. His stare is fierce and furious, an intense simmer of something you can't quite put your finger on. It's actually a little frightening how serious he looks.
"You won't pull something stupid like that again." It's spoken firmly and you're under no delusions that it's a request.
You nod enthusiastically, not breaking your fixed look from his glorious horns.
His gaze doesn't waver and for a second you think he's changed his mind but then he smirks and sets your hands down. You run your fingers up and down the curving lengths of the bone and he closes his eyes. His brow relaxes and you swear you hear a contented sigh come from his parted lips.
-
You see the cat on your way home from the grocery store and thank it for visiting you at the hospital, regardless if it was some sort of fever dream or not. It watches you like it's seeing you for the first time. Then it sneezes and you coo, ignoring it's miserable aura.
Your glee only increases when it reluctantly allows you to run your fingers through it's dark fur for the first time. Finally!!
Bakugo wrinkles his nose the moment you close the front door behind you as you return home.
"Go take a shower." He bites out. "You stink."
You blink in confusion but acquiesce.
-
Bakugo looks angry when he finds you in the alleyway. It kinda looks like he's been searching for a while and in a hurry at that, based on the way his chest is heaving.
He studies your new friends with sharp eyes.
One of them has his arm around you, hand hanging loose and low in front of your chest. Your demon looks like he's about to burst a blood vessel. Maybe you should try to get him into yoga or something. Poor guy is well on his way to grey hair at this rate. Seems like a tragedy since he's actually really quite handsome when he's not opening that big mouth of his.
But honestly, he acts like you're trying to send him to an early grave.
"Hey!" You greet cheerfully, excited to share your good fortune. His intense gaze is glaring daggers into the guy hanging off of you but moves to you when you speak. "These guys said if I helped them out with something they'd tell me how to get you home!"
The arm around your neck becomes a little tighter and it's uncomfortable but you're an understanding person. Bakugo can be a little intimidating if you don't know what a huge dork he actually is. You'd be nervous too.
"Shut. Up." He whispers it hoarsely through the narrow walls of the alley and you tilt your head in confusion.
You open your mouth to question him but-
"Shut up, shut up, shut up." His voice is shaking and okay you don't know what happened but you can practically see him vibrating with fury from where you are. "I'm gonna kick your ass!"
One of the men near you laughs cruelly.
"Four against one? You really think you can take those odds?" He sneers.
Another of the men chortles at the wild expression that spreads across your demon's face.
"I wasn't talking to you idiots. Far as I'm concerned you four morons are already dead." He looks downright feral.
You don't even know what happens. One minute you're standing next to four new friends, an arm over your shoulders, and the next you're blinking rapidly at displaced air and a figure panting less from exertion and more from pure rage.
Whatever happened involved a lot of cussing, some controlled explosions (and- what? Was Bakugo always capable of making things go all explody? So cool!), and many manly screams. Your new friends are lying in the alleyway breathing (barely) with bruised windpipes, eyes swollen shut, and more than a few scorch marks. You see an arm bent at a gross angle.
Your demon's eyes are nearly glowing in the dim lighting and the deep red pierce your own wary gaze. Seems like he's upset. You'll have to tread carefully.
"Ba-"
He surges forward and you swear he's about to headbutt you out of existence but then his lips collide with yours in a harsh kiss.
Your brain does its best to catch up to what's going on but you're still struggling. You don't know what Bakugo sees when he pulls away stiffly but he relaxes minutely at the sight of it.
"Idiot." He sounds almost fond.
-
You roll your eyes.
You knew it wouldn't last. Two feet in the door and Bakugo was already growling instructions at you to sit down and shut up and don't move an inch or so help me, you'll wish I'd never found you.
You're sitting down at the kitchen table allowing Bakugo to fuss over you unnecessarily when he starts his complaining.
"You said you wouldn't be an idiot again!" It's an accusation and a reprimand.
You scoff and watch as he takes his time roving his eyes over your hands, turning them this way and that, checking you over for injuries you don't have before moving on to your forearms.
"What are you talking about? Those guys said they'd help me get you home. They just needed a hand-"
"They needed a hand alright," Bakugo mutters with narrow eyes. His gaze lingers on the scar you were left with from your stint in the hospital.
You stare at him blankly and he looks up when you don't give him a reaction.
"There's no way you're really this dumb." He pleads in disbelief.
You blow a raspberry. Can't he go back to kissing you? You liked that a lot better.
He knocks over the bottle of peroxide (that you don't need because, again, no injuries) in a manner that is unusually clumsy and you realize you may have said that last bit out loud. Oh well. He refuses to meet your gaze and swallows audibly as he reaches for the cotton balls.
"Stop trying to kick me out." He intones, voice a rough timbre. "I told you, if I wanted to go back, I'd get there myself. You're the one who summoned me so you're the one that's stuck with me. Shut up and take some damn responsibility."
You grumble in response. You're very responsible, thank you very much.
"How'd you know where I was anyway?"
He brushes alcohol-soaked cotton over some invisible mark on your collarbone and mutters, "that damn cat bastard."
"You mean the demon cat? You guys know each other?" You ask, surprised.
Bakugo stops what he's doing and looks like you've said something shocking.
"W- You knew he wasn't a cat?! But you're such an airhead all the time!"
Wow. Tell me how you really feel.
"S'rude. Also, of course I knew. He was a cat with glowing red eyes. Besides, he'd always sigh when I'd talk about you." You respond. "A cat. That sighed."
"Why were you telling a cat about me?" Bakugo offers you a weird look.
You send it right back. "Why wouldn't I? I like talking about you." You reply simply.
The expression on his face is hard to place. In the end he just sighs and places a heavy palm on your head, mussing up your hair.
"Tell that lazy cat bastard to stay away from you. I don't need his help keeping you safe."
-
"You can turn into a person?!" You shriek in shock as you watch a strange homeless man you've never seen shift into the cat you'd befriended.
The cat gives you a look and turns to level a pitying stare at Bakugo. "Your girlfriend's an idiot," it says as it leaves.
Bakugo lets out an explosive sigh. "I know."
You release a startled sound from the back of your throat. "Since when am I-"
"I already decided."
"I don't think that's something you just decide," you argue, though you don't really have any qualms over it. It's the principle of the matter.
"I told you already. Your life belongs to me. This way is just easier." He says it like it's logic and you have no say.
You disagree. "You can't just-"
"Listen stupid, you're the one who brought me here. The contract was sealed when you bled into the pentagram. I told you that you'd have to take responsibility. This is your fault."
You open your mouth to respond but suddenly he's moving forward. He crowds you against the wall and dips his head in to meet your lips. His mouth forces yours open and his tongue presses in slowly, dragging against yours.
You can't help yourself as your hands reach up into his hair. Your fingers curl into soft strands and find the bony ridges of his horns. You'll take any opportunity to get your hands on them and you're not ashamed. If it takes him shoving his tongue down your throat, then so be it. When your fingers brush the base of the bone where they're nestled in his wild locks he groans and you freeze. What was that? You stroke the spot again and his breath stutters out a staccato against your cheek. Suddenly hands are on your wrists holding them against the wall and he buries his face in your neck. He inhales sharply and tries to regain control of his breathing. After a minute he mumbles huskily into your shoulder.
"This is your fault."
Is it? You consider it for a moment but can't think of anything you'd done in particular that would deem you responsible, but you don't hate the idea of taking credit. You magnanimously decide to let it go.
"I didn't even know you liked me. Like on a basic level. As a human. A person."
Your words seem to startle him from hiding his face against your throat and he peers down at you. "Who the hell kisses someone they don't like?" He pauses and frowns, louring down at you like you have a secret he wants to know. "You better not be going around kissing people you don't like," he growls out like a threat.
You blink up at him dazedly. "I haven't kissed anyone since my twelfth grade dance."
He looks somewhat mollified.
"You're not allowed to kiss anyone else now. Got it?" He commands as his hands come up to pull you in once more.
You snort. As if you'd want to.