#endelivered | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yourhero404 · 6 years

Text

“I Am Here- With Your Pizza!” (Pizza!Parlor AU Bakugo x reader pt. 3)

A/N: THIRD AND FINAL PART, ISN’T IT SO BITTERSWEET? It took me months to finish, but here it is! At a whopping 5,941 words! (which will be under the cut due to the length) So don’t ever say I don’t do anything for you guys 👀

Bakugo is the pizza delivery god- he’s never been distracted and never made one mistake throughout his delivery career. What’s got him messing up left and right now?

PART ONE | PART TWO

BAKUGO X READER PT 3

“There you are Bakubro!” Kirishima threw him a toothy grin as his coworker shuffled through the doors, “Took you long enough! You look horrible.”

“It’s been nonstop deliveries all day,” he groaned, “Why the hell is it so busy? What’s so special about today?”

“Honestly,” Kirishima shrugged and gave him a sympathetic smile, “I have no idea. There’s no holiday or anything, just people craving pizza.”

“I hate them all.”

“You hate everyone-”

“Oh! Kacchan!” a voice called out behind Bakugo that caused his entire face to twist to one of high annoyance.

“I hate him the most.” Bakugo growled.

Kirishima repeated his actions as the other, green haired delivery boy walked up to the counter and into Bakugo’s view. He held a large smile and seemed as though none of the work had weighed on him that day; It drove Bakugo crazy.

“It’s a real busy one today, isn’t it?”

“Fuck off, Deku.”

“Kacchan!” he shrilled, looking over his shoulder in worry, “There are customers in here! Mind your manners!”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” he snapped. He slumped into the stool he normally favoured in front of the register and allowed his forehead to rest against the cold counter, sighing and closing his eyes to take a well needed moment. “Kirishima. Tell me there’s no more deliveries for a while.”

“Well, lucky for you-” the smile he had fell as the computer behind the counter dinged, indicating a new order- the blonde attempted to scream under his breath at the sound. “I... take that back. Sorry, man.”

“Tell them we’re closed.”

“I think you should take it Bakugo,” Kirishima smirked, transferring the order from the window to the counter in front of him, “They said to ‘send the cute one’.”

“Are you flirting with me?” Bakugo shot his head up, his lip curled up in a soft snarl.

“Nope, just reading the comment section.”

“If you’re really that tired, Kacchan,” Midoriya interjected carefully, “I could take it for you.”

“They said to send the cute one, not the trash.”

“Harsh,” Kirishima nervously laughed, “But you’re really going to want this one, Bakugo.”

“Let the dog take it,” he hummed, laying his head back down on the counter, “I’m too tired.”

“Alright then...” Kirishima sighed dramatically, “Guess it’s your lucky day, Midoriya. You get to meet the infamous (Y/n)-”

Within thirty seconds, all life had returned to Bakugo’s body as he found new strength that brought him to his feet instantly. He swiped the pizza off of the counter and was out of the door within a minute- Kirishima held onto the counter to stop himself from laughing so hard he had the urge to fall to the ground, Midoriya was left in shock at just how quickly the other boy had moved.

“(Y/N)…?” he asked, smiling nervously.

“Oh, take your break right now and I’ll tell you everything,” Kirishima leaned across the counter, completely ready to gossip about his friend’s love life, “It’s really quite a story.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bakugo normally liked to ride fast- something about the wind in his face, yadda yadda yadda; He didn’t care about the explanation, he knew it felt good. But now, oh, now- having a reason, a destination, the speed felt like a whole different experience. Something about their place seemed so... right- it sort of felt like home; It was a ridiculous feeling, seeing as he hasn’t even had a normal conversation with this person, nor did they even know his name. Hell, the only reason he knew their name was from an order receipt- it was insane, these feelings. This only happened to people in the movies- and not the good movies, either. Those B-rated movies or those dumb romcom’s he refuses to watch, those would be the types to have a plot like this- oh god, was he in a movie?

His inner rambling came to an abrupt end as (Y/n)’s place came into view.

‘Oh god,’ he thought to himself, ‘How can I make a fool of myself today?’.

Time and time again he’s attempted to get their number, only to back out at the last second due to nerves or because he had embarrassed himself. He’d been here, in front of this door, time and time again yet could never get the words out- he just ended up irritated and stomp back to his scooter. Today, however, he was going to get it. He was going to stand, right there, in front of that door, and get those 11 magic numbers. He didn’t care if he babbled like an idiot, or if he drops the pizza, or if he trips over his own feet like he did the other week- so be it. Bakugo Katsuki absolutely hated being seen like a fool, but he was certainly a fool for (Y/n).

Double, triple, quadruple checking that the order was indeed the correct one, he stood tall and walked towards the front door. A hand through his hair to attempt to tame it, a quick smack to the cheek to make him look alive, he even checked to make sure he didn’t completely reek of sweat and pizza. Deep breath, chest out, focus- he knocked on the door. Several minutes went by without an answer and his shoulders dropped suddenly.

‘Seriously?’ he asked himself, ‘What the hell-’

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed someone else walking up to the door.

That someone, much to his disliking, just so happened to have half-and-half hair.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Bakugo snarled, making no attempt to move from in front of the door.

“A little territorial, don’t you think?” Todoroki’s voice was level and smooth- it only pissed Bakugo off more.

He stood there- dark blue collared shirt with a small flame embroidered on the front pocket. The crimson box in his hand had the owner- the older Todoroki- printed as a dark blue silhouette on the top with the accompanying white EnDELIVER name and flame logo. It was just as ridiculous as the box in his own hand- it irritated Bakugo to no end.

“Why are you here.” he demanded this time, straightening out his back to seem more threatening.

“Obviously because I’m working.” Todoroki answered, not hesitating to push past the blonde to knock on the door.

“Don’t you see me standing here? Don’t you think I already did that?”

“You obviously didn’t do it well enough,” he retorted, both of them hearing movement behind the door.

“EXPLODEY!” (Y/n) yelled as they threw open the door. When they opened their eyes, their smile dropped for a moment before returning- though not as brightly as the first. “Shoto! You’re here too!”

Shoto? Bakugo’s eye twitched involuntarily- (Y/n) knew the damn half-and-half bastard by name? First name, at that? Was he right- had they been ordering from him instead? That punk really had been saucing them up; Bakugo emanated nothing but pure anger and immediately let his thoughts run wild. He stood silent, feeling discarded off to the side as the two in front of him talked- he hated whatever the burning pain in his chest meant.

“Hello (Y/n). How are you?”

“I’m okay! Oh- thanks for the other day, by the way!”

“What happened the other day?” Bakugo interjected.

“Oh, it was no problem. I had a great time,” Shoto gave a soft smile, “We should do it again some time.”

“Do what?” Bakugo’s voice turned shrill, “What the hell did you do, half-and-half?”

“The adults are talking,” Shoto turned and held his hand up in such a condescending manner, Bakugo had to bite his tongue to avoid blowing up, “This is between me and (N/n), not you.”

“(N/n)?” Bakugo yelled, “Who the fuck are you that you’re allowed to call them that?”

“Boys, boys, please,” (Y/n) dragged the plea out, “What are you two even doing?”

“Talking.” They answered unanimously, one certainly angrier than the other.

“Funny way of talking,” they mumbled, “What is the issue anyway, explodey?”

“...Nothin’.” He mumbled, focusing his attention to the ground with a resentful glare.

“Anyway, I have an order for you, (N/n).” Shoto turned back towards the door, “And four others sitting on the bike. I’d stay a while longer, but I don’t feel like hearing about it once I get back to the shop.”

(Y/n) tilted their head and stared at the pizza held out in front of them- they bit their cheek and squinted slightly at the box, an action that normally caused Bakugo’s heart to jump, but it had the opposite affect this time. They shook their head and nervously scratched at the back of their neck, an equally nervous smile falling on their lips as their eyes darted between him and Todoroki- was that a blush creeping across their skin?

“Uhh, no, sorry Sho- I didn’t order anything from ‘ya.” Their speech started to turn to slang when they’re nervous, Bakugo noticed, but why where they nervous? Because their boyfriend dropped off their pizza the same time he showed up?

“Someone did-”

“(Y/n)? Is that my pizza? I left my wallet by the door; can you grab it for me?” A distant voice echoed throughout the home behind them.

The tension in their shoulders dropped immediately, Bakugo noticed, as they let out a heavy sigh. Their eyebrows drew together in annoyance as their lips turned to a pouty frown- it was actually... kind of cute. He wanted to see that more.

“Why did you order pizza? I told you I had it!” They called over their shoulder. A mumbled echo called in response- whatever it said apparently embarrassed (Y/n). “That isn’t why I ordered it, asshole!” they shouted back as their face immediately turned red. They huffed and grabbed the appropriate money before returning to the dark aura that stood in front of their door. “Sorry about that. I don’t know what they’re talking about. Here you go, Sho.”

“It’s fine,” he exchanged the box for the money, “I need to get back now, though. I’ll call you later-”

“No, you won’t,” Bakugo scoffed.

“Aren’t you supposed to be smiling like a fool right now?” Todoroki shot back, ignoring Bakugo’s explosive yell and waving goodbye to (Y/n) before taking his leave.

God, Bakugo hated that guy.

Now they were alone, (Y/n) put the other pizza aside- they acted as though it were diseased as an attempt to make Bakugo laugh and he knew it- but he wasn’t laughing. He thought he was going to enjoy seeing them today, they were the only thing that brightened up his day after all- and after this busy one, he could have really used their charm. It felt wrong, this pain in his chest, it was unlike any other. Bakugo was a stubborn boy who, deep down, knew what the feeling rumbling through his chest was; He just elected to ignore it. He knows nothing about this person besides their order, their name, and how they act when he shows up- he shouldn’t be as attached to them as he was, right? Logically, he shouldn’t be this... upset- this angry- over the small exchange between (Y/n) and Todoroki.

But he was.

“Take it,” he shoved the boxes into their chest and turned to walk away with his hands in his pockets.

He put everything into those boxes, and walked away with nothing left inside of him- nothing to show others, that is.

He tried ignoring everything they said to him. It was obvious now, how they felt, and he needed to protect himself from how he felt. He made it to his scooter, successfully blocking out the silvery voice that wrapped itself around his throat; It gripped so tightly he could feel the burning at the sides of his throat where the pain caused his eyes to start to well up. The only reason he allowed his eyes to fall back to them was due to their body blocking the way of his scooter.

“Hello,” they dragged the word out, “Are you listening to me, Explodey?”

“What.”

“I need to pay for this. What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Your short answers and angry eyebrows tell a different story,” they reached out carefully, attempting to brush against his cheek, but he deflected the action with his own hand.

“Don’t do that.”

They shrunk back and held their hand against their chest with a small, mumbled apology to pair with it. Their eyebrows drew together- their expression, were they hurt? He couldn’t tell, or he didn’t want to be able to tell. He looked to the ground beside them and held his hand out, expecting them to place money in his hand, but felt a plastic rectangle instead. Running through the motions silently, he took the machine from his bag and ran it through, handing them a copy of the receipt and a pen.

“Sign.”

He watched them bite the inside of their cheek and sign as they were told- he didn’t bother looking at the paper before shoving it into his money bag. He put his hands on the handles, waiting to leave; When he made it obvious there was no use talking to him, (Y/n) stepped out of the way and allowed him to return to work- he could feel their eyes on his back until he drove out of sight, however, and oh how the gaze pierced his skin.

The wind felt different this time. It was harsh- how fast was he going? His face was cold, the burning type of cold, it was as though the feeling in his chest when (Y/n) was around had become inverted as they grew further away in his peripheral vision. It wasn’t until he parked in his designated spot on the side of the parlor that he realized the burning sensation was not fire, but its opposite- and now it refused to stop flowing.

It all started to pour out now- these tears, and he couldn’t stop them from coming. A few hiccups here and there- but no sobs. His body shook violently, but there was no wind out today. His lungs screamed for air- for anything, really- it was vastly different from the other times (Y/n) had taken his breath away. He spent so long carefully rolling out the dough, picking and choosing the best toppings, cooking it to perfection and boxing it up- he didn’t expect his heart to haphazardly be tossed around in transportation as it made its way to its rightful destination. Bakugo was efficient at his job because he kept himself composed, most of the time, and didn’t allow any emotions to get out of hand enough that it affected his work ethic; Something about this one particular customer caused him to throw everything he had worked so hard to protect right out of the window and it hurt- it hurt more than he had ever expected it to- he never expected to get burned. Every emotion he built up and boxed away exploded and he lost control- he lost himself.

And so he sat. He sat on that scooter for what felt like hours, though merely minutes passed by, and let the foreign feelings wash over him until every nerve in his body grew numb.

His movements were stiff, and he refused to make any sort of eye contact as he pushed past the glass door- the voice of his friend was muffled as though he were underwater, but the bell above the door was sharp enough to cause pain to his ears. Remaining silent, he tossed his money bag over the counter towards Kirishima and announced he was going home for the day, and that the boss shouldn’t expect him in tomorrow. He ignored every word said to him before walking out and leaving; Kirishima stood there with the bag in his hand, watching with concern as his friend- though he looked different now than he did before he left earlier- walk out the door.

“Was that Kacchan?” Midoriya asked as he passed him just beyond the door, “Is he alright?”

“I... don’t know,” Kirishima chewed the inside of his cheek, “He came in... different. Quiet.”

“He didn’t bother to insult me as he walked by.”

“Something is definitely wrong, then.” Kirishima spoke to the bullying tendencies of his friend, “I wonder what happened.”

Emptying the money bag and doing his daily count, Kirishima came across a crumpled-up receipt and flattened it out. Looking through the smudged ink, he could make out a phone number written on it, and quickly realized it had been (Y/n)’s receipt; His friend couldn’t have been rejected if they gave him their number, right? What had his friend so upset?

“Did you find something?” Midoriya asked out of concern for the red-head who hadn’t moved in a while.

“Oh,” Kirishima punched in the receipt number and total for the log and pocketed the receipt, “I was just trying to read the receipt is all, no worries.” He’d keep the paper just in case his friend decided he needed it later.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The knock on the door caused their heart to race; (Y/n) had waited a few weeks to order from their favourite place in fear of upsetting the cute delivery boy more than they did last time. They weren’t quite sure what they did wrong, but they do know something had messed with him last time, and they haven’t been able to get it off of their mind since.

Their stomach was in knots- as it normally was the minute they hit submit on their order online- but this time it felt wrong. They left a comment begging whoever received the order to send their favourite delivery boy, and even awkwardly rambled about how he was cute and that they hope to god he wasn’t the one reading the comments.

Checking themselves in the mirror by the door to make sure they were presentable, they put on the biggest smile and prayed that the butterflies in their stomach would quit. They pictured his face, so pouty paired with those adorable chubby cheeks- they knew if they had brought that to attention, he’d blow up at them- they couldn’t get those sharp, red, gorgeous eyes out of their mind. The way he spoke, the way he seemed so proud and dignified only to crumble and grow shy and defensive to their teasing- they melted with every moment they got to stand with him. Hopefully now they could fix whatever they had broken, and properly talk to him.

“Explodey!” They yelled, throwing open the door.

Instead of bright red eyes, however, they were met with concerned green ones.

“E-explodey...?�� He stammered, face springing to realization within seconds, “Oh! You must mean Kacchan!”

“Kacchan?” Their tilted their head, “Is that his name?”

“Oh, um. It’s what I call him, but...”

“Kacchan. I like it! Where is he?”

“Yeah about that,” he shifted the pizza box to one arm to free up his other to awkwardly scratch at his neck, “He couldn’t come over today.”

“Oh... is he alright?”

“He’s... no?” He seemed unsure, “Honestly, he refused to do this delivery.”

They bit the inside of their cheek nervously- it's bound to be raw at this point- and focused on the tips of their shoes. They really did do something to mess up what they had, huh? What did they even have? They only just learned his name- a nickname, not even his real name- and they’ve never interacted beyond the door frame; They didn’t really have anything together, so why did it hurt to lose him?

“Excuse me,” he tapped his shoe against their own- apparently they were zoning out. “I’m Midoriya, by the way. Kacchan was always really excited and... almost... protective about delivering to you, (Y/n).” He waved his hand frantically when their eyes shot up at their name, “Sorry! It’s on the order, and Kirishima-”

“Kirishima?”

“Oh, he works behind the counter. Runs the register, keeps the money count, distributes orders and all of that. He’s Kacchan’s best friend. But, he told me everything the two of them talked about when it came to you and, well, we’re both kind of worried...”

“I didn’t do anything weird to him-”

“I didn’t mean that!” he shrilled, “I meant he’s just not really himself since the last time he was here. He’s great- proud, great at his job- but normally loud, angry, and-”

“Explosive.”

“Yes! It’s just who he is. Well now he’s... not... that. I- and, well, Kirishima- were just wondering if... maybe... you could tell us what happened? I know you’re probably busy and I’m supposed to just deliver your pizza and leave and I’m probably just bothering you-”

“Do you always ramble like this?” They let out a melodic laugh, hard enough to lean over and needed to support themselves with the door frame. “You’re awkward, it’s cute! Honestly, I’ve been trying to figure what I did wrong too...”

“So, nothing really big happened?” Midoriya awkwardly brushed off the compliment to hide his instinctive blush.

“Well, not between us. I hardly got to say a word to him.”

Midoriya’s look of confusion mirrored their own as they both silently tried to think through how (Y/n) was at fault. They tilted their head and focused on the pizza box in his hand, squinting, thinking, until they recalled the rest of the exchange.

“He did start to fight with my friend Shoto, though-”

“Todoroki?”

“Yeah- a friend visiting me ordered pizza too and they showed up at the same time.”

“That’s it!” he exclaimed, “It makes sense now!”

The corner of (Y/n)’s mouth tugged into an awkward smile at the relief that washed over this boy’s face. They watched as his face went through the motions, all less than a minute. Relief, confusion, upset, thoughtful, finally landing on angry.

“That’s what he’s so upset over?”

“I... guess? I didn’t know he had such an issue with Sho...”

“You call him Sho?”

“Don’t you call your friend ‘Kacchan’?”

“Touche,” he scratched his cheek softly, “I guess that means you’re good friends with Todoroki?”

“Yeah. We hang out every now and again. I thanked him for the other day, he said he also had fun, we called each other our nicknames- that was it. I know the way Sho talked to him was pretty rude...”

“I don’t think that’s what upset him, he’s gives insults like they’re nothing and brushes off any towards him.”

“Uhg!” They dramatically tossed themselves against the door frame and appeared lethargic as they drew out their sigh, “Then what’s his issue?”

“If... I’m honest with you,” he paused and grew quiet, “I think he might’ve gotten the wrong idea and got jealous.”

“Jealous? Of Sho?”

They busted at the seams with a roaring laugh. They threw themselves backwards, then bent over, then back again- they almost slid down the side of their doorframe to lay on the floor with the force of the laugh that escaped them. Laughing until they started to wheeze, they attempted several times to speak, only to stutter and make it impossible for Midoriya to understand what they were saying. He helped them up, which they were thankful for, and waited until they had finished laughing so they could continue.

“Sho and I are just friends, nothing more, nothing less. Why would he be jealous anyway?”

“Well... Kirishima told me how flustered and awkward he gets around you, how he talks about you, and how badly he ends up losing his cool. I’ve never really seen Kacchan like someone, but it’s possible that he, you know... Likes you?”

“Really?” Their face turned stone cold, “Don’t mess with me.”

“I’m not,” he stuttered at how quickly their mood shifted, “I think he might.”

“...And I fucked that up?” Their voice grew quiet and they tapped their shoe on the ground rhythmically.

Midoriya could see immediately how upset they were over the realization- shouldn't they be happy at the idea of possible romance? Mutual pining? Did they truly believe that they were at fault for this? He stood up tall and drew his eyebrows together in determination.

He was going to fix this.

Whether Kacchan liked it or not.

“No, you did nothing wrong,” he assured, “I’ll fix this.”

He turned to leave and marched right up to his scooter, ready to take the last bit of his nerves and stand up to Kacchan- not only to ensure this seemingly kind person got the appreciation they deserve, but also in hopes that Kacchan got a chance at a little something called infatuation.

He was going to be the match-making hero.

“Excuse me, Freckles?” Their voice teased from behind him, “You forgot to give me my pizza.”

After rushing back and embarrassingly finishing the transaction, of course.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey, you’re back!” Kirishima beamed as Midoriya walked through the door- Bakugo, who previously was out as well, now sat at his usual spot.

“You’re an idiot!” Midoriya cried, stomping his foot like a child.

“What the hell did you just call me?”

Bakugo snarled and slowly lifted his head off of the counter, the look he shot Midoriya spoke thousands of words, most of them being words of the ‘Can’t-say-in-front-of-your-mother' variety. He stood up confrontationally, pushing his shoulders back and tilting his nose up to look down at the other boy; With balled up fists and clenched teeth, he spoke.

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I don’t know about me, but I think you’re an idiot!”

“What the hell makes you think you can talk to me like that, loser?” Bakugo yelled- luckily the parlor was slow and no customers where there to hear their exchange- “I’ll kick your ass!”

“Guys guys please, calm down!” Kirishima jumped across the counter in an attempt to break them up, “Midoriya, why are you being so confrontational?”

“Because I met a really nice person today and they thought they were the problem but they aren’t the problem!” He emphasized the ‘aren’t’ and pointed at Bakugo accusingly, “You and your big head are!”

“EXCUSE ME?”

“You’re moping around here all upset while (Y/n) has been thinking this entire time that they did something to upset you-”

“You delivered to (Y/n) today?” His anger only wavered slightly.

“-And it’s been you the entire time!”

“They’re the ones who decided to get all buddy-buddy with me when they’ve got a boyfriend.” He huffed and crossed his arms, “Not to mention it’s that damn half-and-half.”

“They aren’t dating!” Midoriya’s voice hit a higher pitch as he frantically waved his hands around, “They hung out a while ago as friends! With other friends! They told me!”

Bakugo was silent for a moment, eyebrows drawn together both in anger and confusion. He shook his head and snarled once again.

“They had nice clothes on this one time-”

“Maybe they did it to impress you! Sometimes, people need to wear nice clothes to places!” He insisted, “You didn’t see the look on their face when they assumed it was their fault you’ve been avoiding them- that you got all pissed off and left!”

“Wait, so all of this was because you were jealous?” Kirishima started, “Really?”

“I’m not jealous!” Bakugo insisted, “I don’t even like them!”

“You’re in denial,” Kirishima sighed, “I’ve heard everything you had to say about them. I’ve seen the faces. You definitely have feelings for them-”

“I do not!”

“Yes, you do, Kacchan!” Midoriya piped in, “It’s obvious to absolutely everyone! And they like you too.”

“Why the fuck are you two attacking me? Besides, no, they don’t,” Bakugo muttered, his skin growing increasingly hot all of a sudden, “They like to mess with me.”

“It’s called teasing- you do it too.” Kirishima managed to tap his knuckles on his friends head before sliding off of the counter back to his feet, “They like you, and I know they do.”

“You don’t know them, how could you possibly know?”

As if on cue, Kirishima pulled up all of the separate orders that had come in from (Y/n), and read each comment out loud. “Send the cute one”, “I demand Mr. Explodey to show up at my door”, “For the love of god please send the hot one”, “The cute one is still there, right? Please send him he’s so cute and angry and he reminds me of those weird birds and oh god I’m rambling in the comment section of a pizza order”. With each comment from (Y/n) increasingly getting more awkward and desperate, Bakugo felt as though everything inside of him was going to explode- his heart, his brain, his stomach- everything was getting overwhelmed and was ready to burst.

“Stop, stop,” Bakugo hid his face in his hands for a moment before running them through his hair, “That doesn’t mean they like me now-”

“They wrote their number on the receipt the last time you delivered.”

Bakugo’s eyes shot toward his friend, then to the paper he held in his hand. Did they really? Despite him being a total dick to them?

“No, they didn’t.”

“They did,” Kirishima waved the paper around, “I kept it in case you wanted it later.”

“Can’t you see, Kacchan,” Midoriya started desperately, “They really do like you, and it’s obvious you like them too. Just... accept it and apologize. I think you’ll regret it later if you don’t.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, who are you to give me relationship advice?”

“I think you’ll regret it later if you don’t.” Kirishima repeated.

“...Maybe you’re right,” Bakugo stared at a spot on their checkered floor, ignoring how Midoriya threw his hands up in exasperation and the sympathetic shrug Kirishima gave in response. “Do you really think they’ll still want to talk to me?”

“Yes, absolutely.” Midoriya handed Kirishima his money bag and moved towards the door for his lunch break, “They’ve been waiting weeks for you just to say a word to them. Please, just call them.”

Bakugo heard what he had said, but made no movement until Midoriya walked out the door. What if he fucked it up too bad already? What if they only wanted to be friends in the first place, and these two idiots were wrong? Too many what-ifs crossed his mind and it drove him insane- almost as insane as he felt this entire time with (Y/n) on his mind, but no way to relieve it; Hell, he had to talk himself out of just showing up at their door because that would’ve been beyond creepy. He had a lot of time to think about these feelings, but always came up empty on the explanation and interpretation. Ridiculous, all of it, how was he supposed to know they liked him? They made no move to show nor tell him they did-

Or did they? Had he been so closed off he missed the signs? It’s already hard enough trying to repair the damage to the walls he had built, but they keep crumbling down with each thought about (Y/n). He acted loud and proud around others, but he knew who- and what- he was, he had a hard time believing someone like (Y/n) would have any interest in some shitty pizza delivery boy.

“Gimme,” he mumbled, holding his hand out for the receipt, “Gimme the number.”

“Are you gonna be nice?” Kirishima teased, drawing out his words in a sing-song fashion.

“Give it to me before I pry it from your cold, dead hands.”

“Ouch, mean.” He put gave him the paper anyway and turned to a serious tone, “Please tell me you’re going to apologize.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“I’m the number one shipper of Bakugo x (Y/n).”

“Will you fuck off?”

Bakugo stormed to the empty break room and sat at the table there. Staring at the paper for several minutes, he let everything about it burn into his brain. The fluid way they wrote, the small heart at the end, how heavy the ink was, how smudged it had gotten from being in his friend’s pocket for weeks- the more he studied it, the faster his heart raced. Should he call them? No, what if they don’t pick up. He should text them- but what should he say? Texting seems so... flimsy- what if his apology seems insincere? His hands started to shake as he typed their number into a new contact sheet- oh god, he’s so close to finishing the number, what is he supposed to do? With hands equally as nervous as the rest of him, he types out his text.

‘Sorry I’m such an asshole. -💥’

He slammed his head against the table and dropped his phone, and hands, to his lap.

What kind of apology was that? He really didn’t have any sort of clue how to talk to them- or anyone, really- in this sort of way. How does one flirt? Was he supposed to be flirting? Now his text seemed desperate for them to console him- he didn’t want that! What should he have said? His fingers moved faster than his brain did, and now he screwed himself.

Ding!

Slowly, he leaned back to slide his head across the table, ever so slightly taking a peek at the text on his phone.

‘You are an asshole’

Ding!

‘You should have just asked me’

Ding!

‘I can’t believe you got that worked up over thinking about me and Sho like that’

Ding!

‘WHICH WE AREN’T DATING BY THE WAY’

Ding!

‘But you and I can grab some dinner, unless you’re still being mister dark and brooding like your friend says you are’

The flurry of messages made his heart leap out of his chest. Did they just call him an asshole, then invite him to dinner? He ignored the dark and brooding part- and especially the ‘Deku being his friend’ part. What the hell was he supposed to say? Taking a deep breath and swallowing his pride, he let his heart take over instead of his brain for once in his life, and replied.

‘I get off at 6.’

‘Great! You can swing by my place, you know where it is!’

Good. ‘You’re doing good,’ he told himself, ‘Keep it going.’

‘What do you feel like having?’

‘Mmm, idk Kacchan, I’m kind of feeling pizza :P'

He groaned and lifted his head momentarily only to drop it heavily on the table again.

‘You aren’t serious. And don’t call me that.’

‘Was that too cheesy?’ ‘Kacchan’

He groaned again and curled into himself, pulling his knees up and barely setting his feet on the plastic chair he was in. He rested his cheek against his knees, watching as his phone lit up, message after message, some simply reading the name ‘Kacchan’, others with horrible pizza puns. With each message, he got a glimpse of the (Y/n) he had met just beyond the doorway that somehow made their way straight into his heart. His heart fluttered harder with each ‘ding’ and the corners of his lips curled into a gentle smile while his eyes lidded to a completely lovestruck stare.

Behind him, Kirishima and Midoriya smiled at one another, quietly closing the door as their friends phone started to ring, and they heard a soft greeting from the blonde.

Bakugo Katsuki was good at his job- the best, really- and never once had he made a mistake. But fate was funny, as was the feeling throughout his body, and fate had brought (Y/n) to him as though they were a gift.

Who knew fate could be found within melty cheese and warm brownies made at All SLICE Pizza?

120 notes · View notes