Work Text:
“What the hell is wrong with you?!”
The words leave your mouth before you can think about holding them in, the venomous emotion too much to contain. You shove your phone in Bakugo’s face, beckoning to the article on screen with the bold words “Dynamight Adamant on his Bachelor Lifestyle to be a Successful Hero” strewn across it.
The problem? He’s not single, hasn’t been for two years. But to the media? You don’t exist for the sake of his “image” — his words.
“The fuck do ya mean ‘what’s wrong with me’?” Bakugo spits back, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. “Actin’ like you didn’t already know that’s how I feel.”
Ah, there it is, the classic deflection — it’s your fault.
“Jesus Katsuki,” you scoff, the anger swirling in your chest becoming more palpable by the second. “When are you going to take us seriously?”
He stares at you for a millisecond before his expression shifts into pure rage. You’ve both done this song and dance more times than you care to admit, and it always ends up the same way, dead in the water.
“Oh c’mon,” he growls, building up that same old defensive wall in his head, brick by brick. “Don’t be a goddamn bitch about it, like always.”
Bakugo immediately regrets the way he phrases his response, watching the way your eyes flood with hurt and how they’re quickly replaced with something even worse — disappointment.
“That’s rich,” you say under your breath as you turn away, walking down the hall to his bedroom.
“What’re ya doin’?” Bakugo calls out, his voice still laced with fury, jaw clenched tight enough to crack a molar. “Get back here!”
He marches down the hall after you, but the sight he’s met with gives him pause, his heart canon-balling into his stomach as he watches you clean out your drawer in his dresser. The one he saved for you, the one he insisted that you have because he couldn’t commit to living together — it was his way of committing to you without actually doing it. He couldn’t risk the potential damage to his career if, god forbid, he was spotted walking home with a girlfriend. Again, his words.
“Hey,” Bakugo almost whispers, his tone drastically devolving from fury into weariness. “Don’t do that.”
You don’t respond, continuing to empty the drawer and gathering the items inside. He bristles in the doorway — you’re serious.
“Baby,” he tries again, shakier this time. “Did ya hear me? Put that shit back.”
The drawer slams shut, making him flinch.
“Loud and clear.”
Bakugo inhales sharply through his nose, actual panic making his nerves twinge throughout his whole body. “Hang on, wait a damn minute!”
“No!” You finally snap, a flush filling your cheeks from withholding the emotions that threaten to drown you. It’s too much.
“I’m tired of waiting. That’s all I’ve done for two years, Katsuki! Your career — and ego — is more important than our relationship, than me!”
The words keep pouring out, unfiltered and heavy with resentment.
“I’ve dealt with you hiding me for the sake of your pro-hero popularity, pulling out of a lease the day before we planned to move in together, shooing me away from a table at restaurants during dates if paparazzi showed up. When will it end?!”
The equivalent of electric shocks surge through Bakugo’s system, his brain rattling at your words. Had he really been that much of a jackass to you?
“That’s not—!” He goes to argue, wanting to spew nothing but acidic nonsense about your ridiculous and baseless accusations. But that’s the thing, they’re not accusations — it’s the truth.
His chest physically aches under his scar at the revelation.
Your eyes sting with unshed tears, bruised heart on your sleeve on full display with the rest of your fractured love for him.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
A large, yet careful, hand reaches for your shoulder. You can feel the slight tremble of his fingers. Was it out of anger…or fear?
“M’sorry,” he apologizes through gritted teeth. His expression is difficult to decipher, a mixture of his last inkling of dignity and a dash of regret, you think. It’s not enough to change your mind in the moment.
“It’s too late for sorry, Katsuki. You either choose us, or you hold on to the egomaniac bullshit as a ‘bachelor’ pro hero for the sake of your fucking image.”
Bakugo’s mouth opens multiple times, the words he so desperately needs to say trapped in his throat. He wants to beg your forgiveness, to tell you how much he loves you and that he’s a dumbass for even letting your relationship fizzle to this point. Thinking back on it briefly, you gave him so much grace when he didn’t deserve it. He could’ve done so much to prevent this, and yet, he didn’t, like the coward he truly is underneath the armor he calls ‘honor.’
You shake your head at his silence, your heart shattering into a million pieces as you begin to walk away from the one person you called home. Bakugo watches in horror as you push past him and make your way to the front door. Time seems to stop, his feet glued to the goddamn floor in genuine fear. His future is walking out of his life, and he’s powerless to stop it.
The sound of the front door to his penthouse apartment opens with that familiar squeak on the hinge that he never fixed, followed by a beat of silence.
Now’s his chance, he has to run to you or he loses you for good. This is a fight he cannot win on words alone. He needs to act.
But he doesn’t.
That one last thread of pride in his veins tethers Bakugo to this moment in time, frozen with indecision. The door slams shut, the echo bouncing off the walls through the whole apartment. He’s broken the one thing he treasured so dearly, his own hands bloody with regret. Suddenly, the thought of achieving number one status without you by his side felt like a nightmare, his golden dream dimmed with newfound loneliness.
Bakugo sighs, sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. He’s gotta make this right, to show you that you’re a permanent fixture in his life and not something he’s content without. He needed you, and it’s about damn time he told you that.
He grabs his phone, dialing his publicist immediately. She picks up, barely getting in a greeting before he’s asserting his demands.
“Schedule an emergency press conference for tomorrow. Call every single goddamn news station, gossip magazine and whoever the fuck writes these shit articles. I’ve got somethin’ to say, it’s important.”
This time, he won’t ignore the signs and take reality at face value, he’s gonna buck up do something about it like he should’ve three arguments ago. Bakugo’s not banking on it being enough to give him a chance to win you back, but to send the message of how he feels about you, whether you choose to believe him or not.
And goddammit, he’s hoping you believe him.