Kacchako Drabbles For The Soul

Stupid For You

Bakugo Katsuki did a lot of things.

For one, he made it into UA, one of Japan's most prestigious hero schools.

He constantly got good grades on his assignments.

He worked hard to be taken seriously as a hero in training.

And he always made sure to only indulge in things that were necessary in his hero career.

That being said, it should be clear that Bakugo Katsuki didn't do parties.

And yet.

And yet.

And yet here he fucking was.

Bakugo Katsuki was at a fucking party.

The poor bastard had been basically jumped on his way out of class, gagged and handcuffed, only to be once again used as Kirishima's Barbie doll, an overbearing necktie and uncomfortable dress shirt being Bakugo's stunning outfit to this fucking party.

Not just any party. No, not a little get-together with friends, not a mild hangout, but a school dance.

Aka the bane of his existence.

He already didn't like parties. They were loud. Useless. Dumb. But then-

Then,

You throw in a handful of people he couldn't stand? Otherwise known as his classmates?

How could anyone expect him to enjoy this.

Kirishima had tried to get him to have fun, explaining that there would be food and dancing and cake.

Except all of that was dumb and he hated it.

So now he was here. In the corner of the cafeteria as Present Mic DJ's and Aizawa sleeps behind the punch bowl.

He didn't know particularly when Uraraka had made her way over to his little corner I. The back left of the room, but before he knew it she was peacefully standing next to him, observing as their classmates danced and chattered with each other with a ghost of a smile on her lips.

Uraraka was strange. She made him think strange things.

Like, she made him think about her hair.

Her hair looked really, really soft. Sometimes he wishes he could touch it.

She makes him think about her eyes. Her eyes were really, really pretty. Sometimes he wishes she would look at him with them.

She makes him think about her lips. Her lips were really, really interesting. The way they moved, the way they looked. Sometimes he wishes...

Sometimes he wishes weird things.

But right now he isn't wishing.

No, right now, he is glaring.

Glaring at Uraraka, because for some reason, she's done something that's thrown off her entire face and it's messing with him.

Don't get him wrong, her pink dress and adorable bow in her hair looked amazing, the way the dress hugged her hips in a way that made him feel warm and needy not only throwing him for a loop but annoyingly enough, all the other fuckers at this dance. The number of times he's had to sit and watch her dance with some random fuckers from other classes were too many to count, and Bakugo was very much over it by now.

But now that she's here, up close and easy to observe, he notices that she's done something different than usual.

Bakugo narrows his eyes under the yellow lighting of the cafeteria, the gears in his head almost visible turning as he examines her face.