Thread by @lucyrne_

Ship Happens
#Kacchako | No quirks | M
Katsuki inherits a motherfuckin’ boat & invites the squad to party at sea. Too bad his crush from the copy place can’t come.

Their weekend of sun, booze, and autotune gets supernatural when Katsuki spots something pink in the water...

Katsuki never wanted a boat. He had enough of sailing after his mean ass grandpa spent six hours yelling at him in the baking sun. When his grandpa bought a superyacht, Katsuki vowed never to step foot on deck.

Until the old crank up and died and bequeathed the /Anything is Possible/ to his only grandson.

Katsuki couldn’t keep it – between the insurance, docking fees, and upkeep costs, no 21 year-old could afford this beast.

But there was a slim window of opportunity, a single weekend between getting full ownership and putting it up for sale, when he could enjoy the yacht the way his hag of a mother would never allow him.

/His/ way.

The squad was on board the second he spoke the word ‘superyacht.’ Even now, they were buying their weight in champagne and junk food to prepare for their wild night on the ocean.

All that was left was to invite one last VIP.

And so Katsuki and Kirishima approached the Fedex Office Print & Ship Center, decked out in their finest resort wear. Swim trunks, flippy floppies, a breezy linen shirt, and a pair of wayfarer sunglasses that exuded cool.

Katsuki also wore a white captain’s hat on his helterskelter blond head. He was always handsome, intelligent, fierce Bakugou Katsuki, but today he was handsome, intelligent, fierce Bakugou Katsuki /with a motherfucking boat/. He had to look the part

“Wait,” Kirishima said, stopping him at the door. “Undo another button. The AC is blasting in there, so the air should whoosh over us when we walk in. The vibe’s manly as shit when done right.”

Katsuki popped open a couple more buttons. “Tch, good lookin’ out.”

“I’m always lookin’ out, dude. Now go get her!”

A bell dinged as they pushed open the door.

The bright side of wearing sunglasses indoors like a total dick was that Katsuki could shamelessly glue his eyes to Uraraka.

She was busy stocking a shelf of printer paper, turning her head when the bell chimed with his arrival.

A gust of air conditioning blew open Katsuki’s shirt to reveal tantalizing glimpses of sculpted muscle. Fuck yeah, this was the vibe. Nobody lived the vibe better than him.

Across the room, Uraraka’s sparkling brown eyes caught his face then drifted down. Her pink cheeks flushed red, and she dropped several reams of paper to the floor. She slapped her hands to her face with a gasp and bent down out of sight to collect them.

Kirishima mosied over to a rack of greeting cards and spun it around. Katsuki swaggered to the front desk. He took his sunglasses off and hung them on his shirt’s opening.

Deku appeared behind the counter, chipper as hell in his stupid purple polo.

“Kacchan!” he said brightly. “I’m surprised to see you here. It’s Yacht Day, right?”

“It’s motherfuckin’ Yacht Day.” Katsuki took his boating license from his wallet and slid it across the counter. “Gimme twenty copies of this.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Deku picked up the laminated card and paused. “Why do you need twenty photocopies of your boating license?”

Because Deku needed to scram while Katsuki asked Uraraka out.

“Fuckin’ hell Deku, you grill everyone who walks in here?”

Somewhere in the store, Uraraka burst out laughing. Deku shrugged and headed towards the copy machines.

With that damn nerd busy, Uraraka took his place at the front desk to process Katsuki’s order. Even in a Fedex polo, her body looked like a dream. That took skill.

He kept quiet while she charged his credit card, content to just stand there and breathe in her presence like salt spray wafting over ocean waves.

Katsuki thought love was a crock of bullshit until he met this girl.

Uraraka Ochako appeared out of the blue. Transferred to his university midway through first year, hogged his favorite leg press machine at the gym, and attended his house parties attached to Deku like a little round barnacle.

They were so tied at the hip that Katsuki expected them to hook up. But they never did.

God, he found her so annoying back then. Uraraka always stared at random crap, tripped over shit, and asked dumbass questions like “What’s a fork for?”

Schools suck outside of the city, but /come on./

Now Katsuki craved that look of wonder in her eyes. He admired how hard she worked to catch up to her peers in every discipline. He watched, enthralled, as she sculpted her clumsy legs into works of art.

Works of art he’d worship nightly if given the chance.

More than anything, Katsuki wanted to be the reason Uraraka was stunned beautifully speechless by the world around her.

And he wanted it to happen on his superyacht while she wore a bikini.

The computer spat out a receipt. Uraraka passed it to him, her attention sliding several inches south towards his open shirt, then jumping back up like Katsuki just caught her stealing.

She didn’t need to feel shy or ashamed. The goods were on display for a reason.

“I like your sunglasses,” Uraraka said.

“Gonna need ‘em on my superyacht this weekend,” Katsuki replied, placing an emphasis on ‘super.’ “You hear about all that? Random, right?”

Uraraka propped her elbows on the counter and smiled at him.

“The whole city has heard about the superyacht by now, Bakugou! I saw people clapping when it docked last night.”

So she already went to the harbor to check out his boat. Good, this was good. Saved him time flicking through his camera roll if her interest was already piqued.

“Tch, no point in applauding until I’m at the helm.”

“I’ll cheer you on from the pier as you sail off into the sunset!” Uraraka pumped a fist in the air.

His pulse quickened. A kickboxer since he was a raging little brat, Katsuki knew a perfect opening when he saw one.

“Why watch from the pier when you can just come with us? Won’t cost you anything, just bring a swimsuit.”

Boom. Done. Nothing to it.

Uraraka straightened and looked up at him with total surprise, eyes wide and glittering. If those brown eyes were an ocean, he’d sail that endless chestnut sea for the rest of his days. Heat flared across Katsuki’s cheeks and ears, making him self-conscious of his own thoughts.

He hoped his ridiculously open shirt distracted from his embarrassing face.

“You really want little ‘ole me to come with you?” Uraraka said, some mischief now bubbling to the surface. “But I thought only the chosen could step foot on your plus ultra superyacht.”

“That’s right.”

Katsuki leaned against the counter, answering her smile with his own sharkish grin. “Congrats for making the cut. I’ll print out an invitation if that works better for you, Cheeks.”

Talking to her always felt so easy, even when he was a shaken bottle of nerves and adrenaline.

“And how many copies of that would you–” Uraraka blinked like she realized something. Her cheerful expression dropped away.

“Oh,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry, I can’t go.”

…Fuck, even the pro kickboxers took a surprise gut punch sometimes.

She was thrilled a minute ago. Why the hell did she say no?

/Duh!/ Uraraka didn’t want to get seasick. She always complained of getting nauseous on the train.

“Cheeks, we have a literal boat-load of dramamine. It’s gonna be the smoothest sailing of your life.”

Uraraka laughed again, a false note creeping into her voice. Katsuki knew what her laughter sounded like when it was genuine. A weird side effect of hanging on her every word. She tucked a lock of brown hair behind her ear and tried in vain to fix her attention on the computer.

“It’s not getting seasick I’m worried about.” Uraraka touched the keyboard in a bid to look busy. “I just can’t get wet. I mean, I don’t /like/ getting wet.”

/Only ‘cause you haven’t gotten wet with me./ But Katsuki’s confidence already ebbed too low to say that aloud.

“You won’t get wet,” Katsuki said. “The deck is like 30 meters over the water.” He pulled that number out of his ass, but it must be near the truth. The yacht was huge.

Her voice reached a new octave of anxiety as she started to babble.

“I’m so sorry. It sounds – wow, it sounds like so much fun, and I want to come, I really do, but I’d only drag your weekend down.”

Was getting wet really that big a deal for her? Katsuki was still puzzling over this when Deku arrived with a neat Fedex packet in his hands.

“Order’s ready, Kacchan!” Deku returned Katsuki’s boating license while looking at Cheeks with concern. “Something wrong, Ochako?”

“Bakugou just invited me to his yacht,” she said. Speaking that sentence should’ve made Uraraka squeal with joy, not deflate and stare at the floor.

“Really? That’s so–” Deku’s face drained of color. The nerds shared a panicked look Katsuki couldn’t interpret. “But y-you can’t go on a boat,” he said.

“I can’t go on the boat,” Uraraka echoed with misery. “Because, um…”

“B-because you’re working a d-double shift with me!”

What?

All of the carefree summer vibes Katsuki had carefully cultivated sizzled into nothingness. A vein pulsed on his forehead. Was Deku for real? No way were they working a double shift, today of all days!

Uraraka nodded vigorously. “R-right! Then we’re making late-night mochi and watching movies together, so I extra double can’t go!”

So not only did Deku torpedo Katsuki’s grand plans with fucking work, but they were also sharing mochi afterwards?!

This wasn’t even the first time Deku pulled this shit! He had always been protective of Uraraka, swearing up and down that they were just friends, then leaping into action whenever someone threatened her with a good time.

Usually Katsuki just brushed him off, but seeing the alarm coursing between Deku and Uraraka, he realized something else lurked beneath the whiny excuses.

Something they were hiding from him.

Icicles of dread dripped down his back. His stomach rolled like it had been dragged beneath a brutal undertow. The sudden backtracking about his boat, the unexplained reluctance to get wet, the weird excuses…it all pointed to a single scenario. The truth Katsuki couldn’t ignore.

Uraraka wasn’t into him.

Instead of giving it to him straight, Deku was helping Uraraka spin bullshit right to Katsuki’s face. They must think they’re sparing his feelings. As if turning down a yacht party to work fucking retail would stop his mood from sinking into an abyss.

“Then tomorrow,” Deku continued, “we’re opening the st-store at 6AM for the, uh, Sunday morning print rush. So she extra triple can’t–”

“FUCK!” Katsuki shouted over him, “I GET IT ALREADY!”

That shut them up.

Uraraka managed to look Katsuki in the eye, her pretty face gathering into a pained grimace. He thought she looked sad – genuinely and abjectly sad – but he couldn’t trust that interpretation. When it came to Cheeks, he was dead wrong about everything.

“Why the fuck would I wanna hear about your dumbass mochi & movie night, huh?” Katsuki bit out. “I have a boat! I’m partying on a fucking yacht with my best friends, drinking champagne and flipping burgers at motherfucking sea, and you’re gonna be what? At work flippin’ copies?”

Katsuki yanked the Fedex envelope from Deku’s hands and stuck it under one arm.

“Fucking nerds,” he said under his breath. “Who needs you anyway.”

Katsuki shoved his sunglasses over his burning eyes. He wanted a little privacy while he grabbed Kirishima and stormed out.

🛥️🛥️🛥️

The squad waiting for them at the pier. Luggage, groceries, and five garment bags sat piled at the bottom of the boat ramp.

Kaminari saw Bakugou and Kirishima approach first, immediately jumping into a chant he invented for the weekend.

Ashido and Sero joined in, shaking their asses like it wasn’t 10AM on a Saturday morning.

“Motherfuckin’ Yacht Day! It’s motherfuckin’ Yacht Day, motherfuckin’ Yacht Day–”

Katsuki barrelled through them like a pissed off bowling ball and stalked up the gangway.

His friends continued chanting without missing a beat. Kirishima joined them as he hoisted two heavy bags onto his shoulders and carried them aboard.

Everything on board was ready. The 122’ yacht gleamed in the morning sun. The deck and hot tub were polished and clean.

Katsuki ran his hand along the grill and imagined Uraraka hovering over his shoulder, drooling as he barbecued dinner.

Cheeks loved meat. Never ate fish due to ‘personal ethics,’ but she'd eat a whole hog. Not that her mouth and his meat would share the universe this weekend.

Katsuki went below deck, noting how roomy the stairwell and the halls were. He dropped his duffel bag off in the master stateroom – his room. It was one of the biggest rooms on board, with a king-sized bed and ensuite. He doubted he’d spend more than a couple hours inside.

He climbed a spiral staircase leading to the lounge, a common area with circular windows facing port and starboard.

The views were amazing, but Katsuki just stood there with his hands in his pockets, listening to the ship creaking around him.

Kirishima poked his head inside. “Hey Bakugou! Can Mina and I take the cabin with the double bed?”

“Don’t care.”

Katsuki’s voice echoed eerily in the lounge.

The /Anything is Possible/ could support a dozen guests and a handful of staff. With just his squad on board, the boat looked deserted. It looked wrong.

Shit, did he really only bring four people to Yacht Day? Maybe his invite list should’ve included more than five names.

This was exactly what extras were for, Katsuki realized with a leaden heart, to make spaces like this feel less colossal and hollow.

No wonder Uraraka would rather Fedex and chill with Deku than be here with him.

His empty boat was pathetic.

Months of planning had gone into this weekend. While the hag’s lawyers figured out the legal shit, Katsuki researched, studied, and dreamed of how he could put this superyacht to greatest use in the slim amount of time he had.

Katsuki didn’t slack off /ever./ If he was going to waste his precious time, it had to be for the best yacht party to ever take place on the high seas.

Would all that hype end with a sad splash?

It was all Katsuki could think of when he found the squad in the pilot house.

Kaminari babbled about their playlist while Sero tied a nautical afghan around his neck. Ashido was draped in Kirishima's arms, spitting out a lollipop to giggle at something he whispered in her ear.

Katsuki dropped himself in the pilot’s chair, stewing.

“Forget it. Let’s just get drunk here in the harbor. I don’t give a fuck about going out to sea.”

The happy chatter died down.

“But we all took a boating class together just so we could,” Kirishima said.

“I passed for you,” Kaminari said, sounding hurt.

“Yeah,” Sero said, “what the hell, man?”

They stared at him, their expressions falling as it sunk in that he was serious.

“This is fucking stupid. I took those classes, I bought all this crap,” Katsuki ripped off his captain’s hat and threw it to the floor, “I made this fucking boat my entire personality, and for what? Nothing."

"Fuck, I don’t own this thing for real. This sucks. Yacht Day /sucks./ Why didn’t any of you assholes tell me how lame this is?”

Kirishima frowned and looked at Kaminari, who raised his arms in surrender and looked at Sero, who scratched his head and looked at Ashido.

Ashido sucked her lollipop thoughtfully before spitting it out with a sharp pop.

“Because randomly getting a superyacht is one of the coolest things to ever happen to us,” she said. “And it’s way more lame to inherit a yacht and /not/ take it out at least once, don’t you think?”

Leave it to fucking Pinky to say the exact thing Katsuki needed to hear. He wouldn’t be the loser who threw a pity party in the harbor – fuck that! For fortyish hours he owned this boat! It was barely noon, the weekend was ahead of them, and Katsuki wouldn’t waste it wallowing.

Katsuki grabbed his captain’s hat off the floor. The others whooped as he put it back on, resolute.

“Pinky, do the pre-departure checklist. You two, get ready to remove the lines. Shitty Hair, stay up here and run the blower.”

The group scattered across the vessel.

Katsuki watched them prepare for launch from the pilot’s cabin before looking out over the open sea.

He had lost focus and started to doubt himself, but that sad baby shit was in the past. His future held an endless ocean beckoning him to adventure.

Something flashed in the water, a speck of pink among cresting waves.

Katsuki blinked and scanned the ocean surface – nothing. Must’ve been a fish’s tail glinting off the surf.

Back on deck, Sero leaned over the railing and cupped his hands over his mouth.

“Get your towels ready, it’s about to go down!” Sero called out to the harbor. The crowd gathering on the pier cheered.

On the ship's other side, Kaminari yelled, "Everybody hit the fucking deck! But stay on your motherfucking toes!"

More cheers and laughter erupted from the harbor. The sound of it sent of kick of adrenaline buzzing through Katsuki's blood. Now that was more fucking like it!

Kirishima looked at him with a lopsided grin. “We running this?”

Katsuki grinned. “Let’s do it!”

He ripped the ignition and the yacht whirred to life.

🛥️🌊 END PART ONE 🌊🛥️