Thread by @queenswagzilla

#bkdk #aita fluff, mild angst, hurt/comfort, asshole urarararararara, punk/prep
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Imagine: BKDK are engaged and hella in love. Someone tries to throw them off. Based on this AITA post.

https://twitter.com/ellle_em/status/1504037299859955712

Katsuki looked himself over—rustling his hair to make it messier, only satisfied when the spikes springing from his undercut were artfully askew. If he was gonna go to a bougie-ass garden party, it was gonna be on his own goddamn terms.

Besides, the hag said it was casual.

He could wear whatever the fuck he wanted as long as it was designer.

He was technically wearing stuff from his parent's line—it was the sub-line they'd let him design when he bitched to them about not having access to high-quality clothes that matched his aesthetic.

From a business perspective, it allowed them to branch into new markets. Now, he helped them design a line every year that catered to the punk-rock market.

Sometimes, if he was feeling charitable, he even modeled them.

He loved this outfit in particular.

The jacket was one of his favorites—a leather moto jacket with band patches up the sleeves, black jeans ripped at the knees, and his favorite skull shirt.

The only downside was that it covered most of his tattoos—except the ones at his knees.

On the right knee, 'I kneel to no one' was inked in Deku's cleanest cursive. On the right, the flowers that had been in the bouquet that Deku had given him on their first date.

He was wearing a necklace that Deku had gotten him for their third anniversary, too—

a multi-layered necklace made from chains of different sizes. There was a little lock on it, hanging the lowest—closest to his heart.

Deku had a simple chain with its key. He usually wore it under his clothes. He liked all that sappy symbolism shit.

Katsuki would never admit it, but he did too. He'd gotten so fucking flustered when Deku gave him the damn thing that he'd nearly thrown up.

He glanced at Deku out of the corner of his eye, watching his fiancé mutter to himself as he fiddled with the buttons at his collar.

The dork was wearing a polo and a sweater vest—opting for jeans instead of khakis.

He looked like a total dweeb. Katsuki's heart clenched in his chest and he turned back to the mirror—this time to apply eyeliner as he fought the urge to kiss his fiancé senseless.

Katsuki loved him so fucking much. From his starched collars and sweater vests to the jacked hunk that hid behind them. He was caring and sweet and so fucking smart that it made his head spin sometimes.

He was one of the few people who looked past the wrappings to see—

what was inside of you. So, even though the entire goddamn world thought they were mismatched, Deku was sure they were made for each other.

He claimed that he'd been sure since the first argument they'd had.

He claimed that he'd never met anyone as passionate about the best All Might era as he was—even if his opinion was wrong.

He claimed that he'd never who made him so excited in his life—completely lost in the heat of the moment.

He'd made all of those claims on their seventh date, when Katsuki had asked him what the hell had possessed him to make a move.

Shortly after, he'd been forced to admit that he went out of his way to see Deku in the halls of their university's engineering building—

if only to get another rise out of the dweeb. Nothing made his blood pump as hard as it did when they argued. Nothing made his heart race as fast as when Deku looked at him.

But Deku wasn't looking at him right now. He was still fiddling with his collar.

Katsuki gave himself a final glance in the mirror before making his way over to the greenette—batting his hands out of the way to button and straighten the nerd's collar himself.

"Are you sure you wanna go to this shit?" he asked, running his hands over Deku's shoulders.

They were tense.

Deku tilted his head, confused. "Why do you ask?"

Katsuki gave him a small smile, then pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Izuku's shoulders relaxed by a fraction as he leaned in.

"You've been messing around with the same button for like ten minutes," Katsuki replied, bringing his hands to cup the back of his neck—rubbing soothing circles into the base of his skull with his thumbs. "You've been stressed as fuck lately. More anxious. You—

don't like crowds to begin with, I know it's worse when you're stressed. If you don't wanna go, the Hag'll understand."

Deku's eyes went all soft and watery, like he was touched by Katsuki doing the bare minimum to make sure he was comfortable.

He leaned in and kissed Katsuki—deeper this time. "I'm fine," he promised. "It'll be nice to see Auntie again. It's been too long."

Katsuki frowned. "If you're not up for it, though—"

Deku kissed him again—a swift peck to cut him off.

"A few of our friends will be there, right? I can hide with them if I need to," he said, hands sliding down Katsuki's waist to rest at his hips. "And if I'm too overwhelmed, I'll tell you. I swear."

Katsuki squinted, suspicious. "Swear on your Golden-Age collectors' pin set."

Deku's eyes widened. "But—"

"Shouldn't be a big deal if you're planning to keep your promise, shithead."

The nerd swallowed, then gave him a shaky smile. "You drive a hard bargain, Kacchan."

"It's the only way to get you to take care of yourself," he smirked, amused. "And—

I don't like it when you're on edge."

"I'll be fine," he protested. His face took on an affectionate sheen, and Katsuki knew he was about to say something embarrassing. "I'm comfortable wherever you are, Kacchan."

God, Katsuki was so fucking lucky to have him.

Even though he was embarrassing and made Katsuki blush like a schoolgirl, he was...everything.

He was so grateful to have this amazing person who accepted him for everything that he was. Who was soft and supportive, and backed him up even when—

the situation made him uncomfortable—like his mother's douchey garden parties.

Katsuki couldn't wait to marry him. Behind Deku's neck, he fiddled with the simple engagement ring the nerd had bought him—a flat, gold band with a single ruby in the center.

"If you're sure," he said, searching his eyes.

"I swear on my collectors' pins—I'll tell you if I need to leave. Or hide in your old bedroom, or something," he chuckled.

"Fine," Katsuki chuckled. "Just remember,—

my underwear drawer at home is way more interesting than the one at my parents' place."

Deku spluttered and Katsuki cackled in response. "I'm not going to go through your underwear drawer!"

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Izuku had been to Mitsuki's garden parties before. The Bakugous were upper-crust and despite being more down-to-earth than the average wealthy family, they did fill out their social obligations regularly.

They had a beautiful home with a beautiful yard, and so they held get-togethers of various sizes and intent on a regular basis.

More often than not, it was just casual social stuff—a barbecue here, a sit-down dinner there. But sometimes, they took advantage of—

their well-manicured garden to host business parties. They used it to woo potential investors for the upcoming season and even though they were more laid back, they were still immaculate.

He was fortunate that his mother-in-law-to-be liked him so much,—

because she'd always go the extra mile to make sure that Izuku felt prepared.

She'd send him a list of what to expect, along with a run-down of the dress code—usually attaching example photos that he could model his outfits after.

She'd even FaceTime him if he was unsure, giving him helpful tips on how to make stuffy outfits more comfortable.

All that to say, she'd warned him about this party. About how it was going to be pretty business heavy and how she'd be commandeering Katsuki for most of the day—

because their next line was going to be edgier than the ones before.

She'd promised him that she was going to invite some of their college friends too, just so that he'd have someone to fall back on if he got uncomfortable with the boring strangers.

He didn't just love Katsuki, he loved his family, too. He was so blessed to have them all in his life.

They were as much his family as his mother was, and after a whole life of having only one person care about him, it felt like a gift to have so many people in his corner.

It felt like a blessing to have his family grow, full of such wonderful and extraordinary people.

Katsuki's grip on his hand tightened as they entered his parents back yard, and he swore.

"Shit," he muttered, turning to Izuku. "There are so many more people than—

I thought there would be. Are you sure you're gonna be okay?"

Izuku took in the party, a little alarmed to see how many people were in attendance. The only thing Mitsuki ever neglected to mention was the size of her parties—and usually because they were relatively low-key.

If she didn't say anything in advance, they could usually expect the guest list to be limited to twenty people.

There were around a hundred people in the garden right now. His heart-rate picked up at the sight, a little alarmed. But Katsuki's hold on his hand was grounding.

He smiled at his fiancé—a little tighter than before, but still sincere.

He pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I'll be fine," he said again. "And I'll step away if I'm overwhelmed. I promised, remember?"

Katsuki studied his face for a moment before deciding that he was satisfied.

"Alright. Let's go find the Hag so she doesn't bitch at us for avoiding her."

They didn't need to go far, because it turned out that Mitsuki had been waiting for them to arrive—keeping an eagle eye on her party so she could snatch them up as soon as they appeared.

"Izuku, sweetheart!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him and squeezing him like a python. He wheezed as his lungs constricted, but hugged her back anyway. "It's so good to see you!"

"It's good to see you too, Auntie," he replied, smiling bright as she pulled back.

She wrapped Katsuki in a hug half a second later—grip tightening as he squirmed to escape.

"You two don't come by nearly often enough," she scolded them. "Especially you, brat. I got stretch marks for you, the least you could do is come by for dinner sometimes."

"I'm fucking here, aren't I?" he snapped, finally ducking out from under her stranglehold. He straightened out his outfit, crankily rearranging his shirt and jacket, and Izuku got to admire him as he did.

He was so lucky. He was so lucky.

His fiancé was everything he'd ever dreamed of in a partner.

Confident, bold, assertive, and beautiful. A work of art. The thing he admired most about him was his ability to walk into any space, completely self assured, without compromising even an inch of his self-expression.

He was exactly himself, no matter what was happening around him. It was amazing. Awe-inspiring, like looking into the sun.

He didn't dim himself for anything or anyone, and Izuku couldn't help but feel warm and bright in his presence.

Here he was, in a garden full of the fashion worlds' biggest investors, bickering with his mom just as loud and crass as he would if they were alone.

In a sea of suits and sun dresses, he was decked out in exactly what made him comfortable—

looking like he'd walked off a punk-rock album cover.

Artfully disheveled. Tastefully grunge. Strategically distressed. Oxymoronically walking the line between chaos and order, and completely in command of the tipping point.

"The fuck are you staring at," Katsuki groused, snapping him out of his enraptured trance.

"You," he replied honestly, smiling helplessly. "Always you."

Mitsuki cooed as Katsuki blushed. "Fuckin' embarrassing," he huffed, grabbing Izuku's hand again and—

squeezing it tight. "Lucky I love you, you fucking simp."

"You know, your father saved the voicemails from when you first started dating," Mitsuki teased. Katsuki paled. "You're quite the simp yourself, kiddo."

"Shut. The fuck. Up."

"I already knew that," Izuku chuckled at the same time, earning an elbow to the stomach. "Sorry, was that a secret?"

"I hate you."

Mitsuki was laughing, and despite his scowl, Katsuki was still holding his hand—squeezing it affectionately when Izuku kissed him on the cheek.

"As much as I hate to separate you two, I need to steal my brat," Mitsuki said. "There are some investors who are asking about the new line's target market, and who better to ask than the market himself?" she teased, reaching to ruffle Katsuki's hair.

His cranky fiancé ducked out of the way, snapping his teeth as though he were actually going to bite her.

"Shoulda known you were gonna pimp me out," he barked.

Mitsuki ignored him. "Some of your friends are here, though! Ochako is here, of course. She might have to—

spend some time wooing the investors, but for the most part she's got the afternoon off. And of course, Katsuki's band of hooligans are around here, too."

He smiled, heart warm knowing that she'd gone out of her way to make him comfortable. He was glad Ochako was around, too.

It had been a while since they'd hung out—especially since she'd started working for Mitsuki.

He'd recommended her to the position when Mitsuki had yelled over dinner that her 'bitch-ass assistant quit,' and so far she seemed to have taken to the position like a fish to water.

"Thank you," he replied. "I'll catch up with them. I'll probably be hanging out by the food when you're done," he said, turning to Katsuki.

"Save the good shit for me, my favorites always run out before I can get to them," he scowled. Izuku pecked him on the lips,—

hoping to turn his frown...not upside down, but at least into a neutral facade. A smiling Katsuki was a thousand times more terrifying than a scowling one, after all.

He smiled in amusement as Mitsuki dragged Katsuki away—the latter digging his heels in—

as he refused to be pulled around 'like a shitty little bitch-ass puppet.'

Katsuki was an absolute menace, and undoubtedly the light of his life.

"Always a handful, huh?" Ochako said, appearing beside him as though by magic.

Izuku jumped at her sudden arrival, then smiled wide and pulled her into a hug.

"Good to see you," he said as he pulled away. Her hands lingered on his arms as she looked up at him, smiling bright.

"Good to see you, too," she replied. "You wanna go catch up with everyone?—

We're hanging out by the pool."

His grin widened. "Sure! I—" he paused as Ochako looped her arm around his and started steering them. "I haven't seen them in so long. It sucks, we all live so close but we're all so busy."

"It's definitely hectic," she agreed. "And you're the busiest of all of us, between your startup and Bakugou dragging you all over the place for events and stuff."

He frowned. "What events?" he asked. The only events they attended together were investor meetings for—

Izuku's business and parties like this one that they were obligated to attend—usually because Mitsuki needed her son.

Ochako looked up at him walking so close to him that her hip checked his as they moved. "Mrs. Bakugou mentions a different dinner party almost every week,"—

she replied. "Just last week, I asked her where she wanted me to schedule her carpet consultation meeting, and she said to wait until you'd had your dinner at Chez Luca to see if it was any good."

Izuku laughed, bright and surprised.

"Oh! You mean date night," he said, smile taking on a dreamy quality. "We try to have a nice dinner every week to make sure we're spending quality time together, that's all. Actually, most of the time I'd say I'm the one dragging him."

"You took him to Chez Luca for a dinner date?" she asked him, a strange note of doubt coloring her voice. "That place is really nice, I didn't think it'd be his speed."

"You see what he grew up with," he said, gesturing around the garden. "Chez Luca is nice, but he—

doesn't really care about the atmosphere as much as the food, and I just want to try new things with him."

Her hands tightened on his arm, and she seemed to lean into him. "That's so sweet," she said. "You're such a romantic. I hope Bakugou appreciates it."

There was a...suggestion in her voice—like she doubted that he did.

He wasn't exactly surprised—Katsuki didn't exactly show his softer side to people unless he knew them well. Not many people knew how much he liked cuddling on Sunday mornings or going on dinner dates—

where they could hold hands across the table.

"He does," he assured her. "He might be a workaholic, but he's more of a romantic than I am. Don't tell him I said so, though—I don't wanna be kicked to the couch for the rest of the month," he joked.

A weird look flashed across her face, but he didn't get the chance to dissect it before someone's arm landed across his shoulder, pulling him into a jovial side-hug.

"Mido!" Eijirou cheered, grinning wide. "How've you been, man?" He was carrying a plate of hors d'oeuvres,—

so Izuku assumed he must have gone on a quest for food and had caught them on his return to the poolside huddle.

"Hey, Ei," he grinned. "I'm good. Is Mina here? What about Keiko?"

"There's a little movie room set up in the basement to entertain the tinies," he explained.—

"Pretty sure they're watching Tangled right now."

Eijirou and Mina's daughter was a precocious little tyrant who somehow managed to get her way, no matter the situation. She was better at making demands than Katsuki—who regularly capitulated to his goddaughter's demands.

"Don't tell Kacchan she's here, he'll try to take her home again," he chuckled as Eijirou let out a barking laugh, ever the embodiment of a golden retriever.

"Don't tempt me, I'd love to get a full night's sleep," Eijirou returned. "Especially a full night's sleep where—

I don't wake up to a metric fuck-ton of sparkly clips in my hair."

"Mido!" Mina cried as they approached. Hanta, Denki, and Kyoka all turned toward them, even as Mina stood to approach—arms spread wide. He pulled his arm out of Ochako's hold when she got closer,—

preparing to hug the pink-haired stylist.

He felt a twinge of anxiety when he had to pull harder than he expected to break free—just now realizing how securely Ochako was holding him.

Weird.

He pushed it aside, wrapping his arms around Mina's shorter frame.

"Good to see you," he said, letting her awkwardly steer them toward the poolside chairs without breaking their hug. "Ei was just telling me about his plans to have Kacchan kidnap your daughter."

"Hey, if you're up for babysitting, I'm up for date night," she replied. "But—

maybe not tonight—Kats was telling me about your big VC meeting next week? Sounds like you'll need to be well-rested."

"Probably for the best," he agreed. "But after that's done, I'm sure we could find time for her to colonize our place."

"I love kids," Ochako cooed. "You know, if you're really hard up for babysitting, I'd be happy to watch her every now and—" she was interrupted by Katsuki's booming voice barking at his mother, something about not being a 'motherfucking mannequin.' "Well. If I babysat, you—

could be sure that she wouldn't pick up any profanity," she chuckled, looking uncomfortable.

"That ship sailed when she was two," Mina laughed. Izuku frowned. He wasn't...the best at picking up social cues or reading tone and body language, but Ochako's comment struck him—

as disparaging. He glanced around, taking in the other faces to search for any hint of offense or discomfort and found none.

Maybe he was overreacting. He did tend to be unusually protective when it came to Kacchan.

Mina released them once they were squarely within the confines of their group of friends.

He startled when, as soon as she released him, Ochako looped their arms back together. It had been a while since he'd seen her in person, so he'd forgotten how tactile she was.

She actually...seemed more tactile than usual. But maybe he was overthinking it.

He was stressed before he even showed up, and the party was bigger than he'd anticipated. There was a lot of noise and despite having his friends around, they were boisterous in a way—

that he wasn't accustomed to anymore.

So maybe the addition of Ochako's arm looped through his and her weight leaning against him was just a sensory straw that was breaking the camel's back.

In any case, he didn't want to draw attention to it.

It helped that across the garden, he could hear Katsuki's barking tone. His favorite person on the planet was just a stroll away.

He looked at him with a soft smile, watching as he showed some stuffy-looking old dude something on his phone and then gestured to his own outfit.

His piercing's caught the light and Izuku's heart fluttered. Bold, brash, and beautiful. Izuku was so goddamn lucky.

Ochako tugged on his arm, recalling his attention. "Where'd you go?" she asked, teasing smile on her lips.

"Just making sure Kacchan isn't getting frustrated with the investors," he explained, glancing back at his fiancé. "Last time he had some trouble justifying designing a niche line from a major label, and they were pretty rude to him."

"He'll be fine on his own," she assured him.

"Besides, It's the investors you should be worried about! Sometimes it's like talking to a landmine with him," she laughed. His stomach churned.

"Oh, speaking of," he remembered. "I told him I'd save some food for him, I'm gonna go grab some stuff. I'll be back—" he moved,—

expecting her to let him go so he could visit the buffet table.

Instead, she held fast—moving with him. "Oh, good idea! I'll come with you. I haven't had time to grab anything yet."

He caught Eijirou's eye, and this time caught a flicker of discomfort and confusion.

At least, that's what he thought he saw. Maybe he was imagining it—projecting his own discomfort and confusion onto someone else.

Ochako pulled him toward the buffet table, stopping a few times to greet people he'd never met before—

each time tucking herself into his side and leaning her head against his shoulder.

He honestly couldn't remember if she'd ever done this before. He kinda felt like he was going insane—overstimulated from every direction and getting more uncomfortable with—

Ochako's hyper-tactility by the second.

As Ochako chatted with an expensive-looking stranger, he glanced back at their friend group. None of them looked like they were giving Ochako's behavior a second thought. Maybe he was more stressed than he thought he was.

Ochako was one of his oldest friends—she wouldn't come onto him. They weren't like that, and he knew it.

But his skin was crawling where it sat under her palms. Something about this felt wrong. He listened with half his attention as the stranger in front of them prattled about—

the success of Mitsuki's spring collection—just ten steps away from the buffet table that they were supposed to be visiting.

"And who's this young man?" the pompous stranger asked Ochako suggestively. "Your boyfriend?"

And there was the confirmation he'd been looking for.

That Ochako was too close, and sending off the wrong signals. He let out a strained laugh. "Oh, no. She's my oldest friend though!" he replied, hoping his smile wasn't too uncomfortable. "I'm actually engaged to Mitsuki's son, Katsuki," he explained, gesturing in their direction.

The man's brow furrowed.

"He's a boisterous one, isn't he?" he said, laughing uncomfortably. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, I suppose. Hopefully the same is true for talent. I understand he has a heavy hand in designing the new collection."

Izuku smiled wider, a little more genuine this time.

"He does. He'll never say it, but he's really excited. Chemical Engineering is his first love, but fashion is a close second. He's really enjoying the work. It's almost impossible to pull him away."

The random rich guy gave a small, surprised smile. "Well that's good to hear," he admitted. "It's easier to put faith in projects when there's passion behind them, don't you agree?"

"I do," Izuku replied. "And Kacchan is a very passionate person. He puts 100% of himself in—

everything he does. It's inspiring, really."

"Hmm," he said, glancing back over at Katsuki—who was gesticulating wildly. Izuku could hear him—not in detail, but his rumbling growl that seemed to lie beneath the ambient noise in the garden.

He sounded irritated now,—

and he seemed to be telling someone off. His mom looked a little peeved, and Izuku wasn't sure if it was at the investor or her son.

"Maybe I should pick his brain about the collection. I heard bits and pieces but your fiancé is an intimidating man," he chuckled.

"He's loud and irritable," Izuku offered. "But if you listen to him, he'll go above and beyond to make sure you're on the same page. The reason he's so excited about this collection is because it'll satisfy his search for quality without—

compromising his self-expression. I think you'll find what he has to say compelling, sir."

The man patted him on the shoulder with an approving smile, before bustling toward his incensed fiancé. Beside him, Ochako let out a breath. "Thank god you were here," she muttered,—

clinging to his arm a little tighter. "Do you know who that is? That's Mr. Toyomitsu, he's one of the industries most coveted investors—and he was so intimidated by Bakugou that he sounded like he was going to pull his funding," she said, scowling after him.

It took him a moment to notice that she was scowling at Kacchan, not at the investor.

"I'm sure Mitsuki wouldn't have asked for his help if she didn't think he was right for the job," he stated firmly. "Kacchan doesn't change who he is for anyone. And—

if an investor is afraid of the kind of person he is? The kind of person he represents? They shouldn't be funding a line dedicated to his target market anyway. They shouldn't be allowed to profit on the backs of people they disparage," he insisted.

He cringed when she snaked her arm around his waist, falling silent. "You're so sweet," she sighed. "He doesn't deserve you, Izuku. Let's go get you some food."

There was a sour taste in his mouth and his skin was crawling. Ochako was his oldest friend, and—

she probably didn't mean it the way it sounded. She probably didn't realize how touchy she was being either—firmly in his personal space and getting closer.

He was probably overreacting. Kacchan said it himself before they left—he didn't like crowds to begin with.

It got worse when you're stressed. And confronting Ochako would be a literal nightmare—made even worse by the possibility that he could be wrong.

His heart raced at the thought alone. His words caught in his throat.

He just wanted to get back to the group by the pool, and—

hide behind their chatter. He didn't want to mess anything up.

He wished Kacchan were with him instead of across the party, entertaining investors. He wished they hadn't come at all. He wished they were still at home, curled on the couch.

He wished he could disappear.

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tbc when my goal is met! It’s smaller, and also the drama actually starts next update 💕 (the whole story is already on p@treon)

ko-fi.com/s_the_queen