Chapter Text
Somehow, she had done it. She, Ashido Mina had done the impossible, the improbable.
Mina Ashido had convinced Bakugou Katsuki, THE Bakugou Katsuki, Beast of class 1-A, Terror of the hero course, to go shopping with her (and oh god it’s CLOTHES SHOPPING).
She was going to rub this in everyone’s faces when they got back to the dorms.
The first place Ashido had dragged Bakugou to was a simple clothes store right at the entrance of the mall. It wasn’t so overpriced that Momo would shop there, but Ashido wasn’t sure she would be leaving with more than a shirt.
Very quickly Bakugou proved why Ashido had thought bringing him clothes shopping was a great idea (possibly the best one she has ever had). Walking up and down the aisles and glaring at the staff whenever they looked like they would offer help, Bakugou matched colours, patterns and textures. Throwing the clothes into Ashido’s waiting arms as he pulled out shirts, pants, dresses, everything. Some distant part of Ashido’s mind was registering that she had stopped looking for clothes herself, but she was so focused on watching Bakugou sift through the racks that she let herself trail along behind him like a lost puppy.
Feeling herself stumble, Ashido realised she had been all but shoved into one of the changing rooms, arms bundled high with clothes she never thought would match, let alone look presentable in public.
Trying each piece on, mixing and matching them to find her favourite combinations, Ashido started to notice something.
Each shirt, each pair of jeans.
Each dress, each skirt.
Fit. Her. Perfectly.
And not just in size. Each piece looked perfect on her, complimenting her body shape in a way she had never seen before. Not only that, but she could move around in everything. Jumping, sitting, walking, she was comfortable moving around (even in the jeans!).
After taking photos of her new outfits, Ashido came to the sad realisation that, despite having found so many amazing clothes she loved, she wouldn’t be able to afford any of the outfits. Mood all but ruined, she opened the door to the changing room, finding Bakugou leaned against the wall on his phone. She was about to voice the issue of price, but Bakugou spoke before she could begin.
“What are you getting Raccoon Eyes? Better be something that doesn't look like a middle school disco threw up on it.”
Letting her eyes fall, she took a deep breath, already expecting him to laugh when she told him that she couldn’t afford any of the outfits.
“Don’t pull that gross ass face at me Raccoon Eyes. You don’t like these clothes or something?”
“No no no!” She said hurriedly, “it's not that! These clothes are gorgeous, it's just that… I would need to get Endeavour's credit card from Todoroki to afford all this.”
She paused, waiting, expecting a frustrated insult or loud, angry remark. Instead, she watched as he looked her up and down. His face twisted up, looking almost as if he were both constipated and having a crisis at the same time (if it was any other situation, she would take a photo and laugh).
Seeming to have made a decision (good or bad she couldn’t tell), he kicked off the wall, pulling something out of his pocket. Grabbing her arm, he shoved whatever he had pulled out into her hand.
“My fucking treat Raccoon Eyes.”
Marching his way towards the check-out Ashido looked over the pile of clothes at her hand. In it, a small rectangular card with Masaru Fashion stamped onto the front. Ignoring all the hundreds (if not thousands) of questions running through her mind, she raced to catch up with Bakugou who is impatiently tapping his foot at the counter.
She left that shop with 4 new outfits and a Bakugou who somehow had a credit card from one of the most popular fashion companies in Japan.
At the end of the day, 3 more bags had been added to the collection, Bakugou carrying all of them as the two of them made their way towards the exit. The only thing Ashido had managed to pay for was the lunch they had eaten in the food court.
Just as the exit came into view, she felt herself get pulled into another store. Mind already prepared to follow Bakugou around another clothing store, it took a few seconds for Ashido to realise that he had just pulled her into a make-up shop instead.
What.
Sure, she could understand his supreme godly knowledge of fashion (maybe, she still doesn’t know where he got that credit card from), but makeup? Why in the name of All Might was he dragging her into a makeup store with more confidence than a blonde teenager in an American film?
The way he was walking around this store wasn’t helping her internal crisis either. Masterfully avoiding the sales-women and picking up products without so much of a glance, he truly looked like he lived in this store 7 days a week, 24 hours a day.
Standing in the middle of the store as he does a full lap, Ashido starts to wonder if anyone in UA actually knows who Bakugou is, then she hears him tell one of the other customers to ” Move the fuck out of my way, you’ve been standing in front of the foundations longer than my grandmother’s been out of the womb ” and she thinks that maybe they all know just enough.
Following his movements, she watches him pay for more makeup than she owns and stalks back towards her.
“Come here Raccoon Eyes.” Pulling her arm, with surprisingly little force, Bakugou directs her towards one of the tables off to the side of the store. Sifting through the bag of makeup, she watches as he pulls out foundations, highlighters, eyeshadows, the whole works, lining them up next to him.
“Eyes shut Acid Trip.” Doing as he said, she barely had time to close her eyes before she felt the scratchy fabric of the free makeup wipes on her face.
The next 40 minutes were spent with her watching Bakugou as he masterfully handled each product and having him flick her ear whenever she tried to turn and look in a mirror.
Finally, she watched as he leaned back in the chair, a cocky smirk plastered on his face. Behind him, the sales-women had their mouths on the floor, eyes wide in what she hoped was shock and not horror. This was either going to be amazing or look like a 3-year-old stole their mother's makeup.
Spinning to face the mirror, Ashido was floored.
The foundation and highlighter matched her skin tone to perfection while her eyes had been graced with a gradient of white to purple eyeshadow. White eyeliner traced both the top and bottom of her eye, ending in a double cat eye with a small dot at each tip. A small amount of blush was dotted around her face, a pink contour helping to accentuate her cheekbones.
“What the fuck Blasty. What the actual fuck.” Turning to face him again, she found that he was packing up the makeup, carefully placing it all back in the bag.
“The old man is a fashion designer, Hag is a model, and I don't half-ass things.”
“So, that card. The Masaru Fashion card-”
“My parents' company.”
Walking out of the mall together, Mina swore to the gods above that she would find a way to get Katsuki to come to one of the girl's nights, even if it (or he) killed her.