Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It started with just a glance. A stupid, stupid glance. Why did I even look at him that day? Why did I have to let my stupid heart get all twisted up in knots every time I saw him? Katsuki Bakugo. Kacchan. The one person who could make my chest feel like it was being crushed, and the one person who made me want to crawl out of my skin just to be closer to him.

Middle school wasn’t exactly the best time for me. I was always the quiet kid, the one who got shoved into lockers and laughed at because I was weak. I never really fit in. And then there was Bakugo—always loud, always so… perfect. He was everything I wasn't. Strong, confident, unapologetically himself. He was the hero everyone talked about, the one who was going to change the world.

But, more than anything, I wanted him to notice me. To really see me. Not as the stupid Deku he always called me, but as someone who could be important to him.

It was just an ordinary day, just like any other. I was walking behind him on our way to school, trying not to draw attention. It was the perfect time to just… watch him. I couldn't help it. His hair, that messy blond that almost looked like it was on fire. His voice, loud and commanding, carrying like thunder through the halls. I thought about how, maybe one day, he'd look at me and know. Know that I was the one who understood him better than anyone else. That I was the only one who could truly appreciate him.

“Oi, Deku! Stop staring at me, weirdo!”

I flinched. His voice was like a slap to my face. Of course, he would say something like that. But it didn’t hurt. Not really. It was just… more proof that I was watching him. More proof that I existed in his world. Even if he didn’t want me there, I was still there.

I had to be there. I needed to be there.

It was around that time I started following him. Just… casually, of course. Nothing weird. Just enough to make sure no one messed with him. He didn't need anyone else. He only needed me.

One day, I saw some kids from another school picking on Bakugo. They were talking smack, trying to make fun of him because they didn’t know who they were messing with. They didn’t know how much Bakugo meant to me. They didn’t know how I’d do anything for him.

So, I did what I had to do.

I remember the way their eyes went wide when they saw me coming toward them. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have to. The look in my eyes, the coldness, said everything. They backed off fast when they saw the knife I was holding.

“What the hell is this, freak?” one of them asked, but I could tell they were scared.

“You don’t mess with him,” I muttered, my voice almost a growl. “You don’t touch him. He’s mine.”

I don’t know if they really understood what I meant, but it didn’t matter. They ran away, screaming, and Bakugo… Bakugo looked at me like he had no idea what had just happened.

“Deku, what the hell?!” he yelled, but I just smiled. A small smile, just for him. “You’re so damn weird.”

And I didn’t care. He didn’t have to understand right now. One day, he would.

Things got worse, of course. I couldn’t stop myself anymore.

Every time I saw Bakugo laugh, or yell, or get angry, it just made the feelings inside me twist tighter.

It was like I was addicted to him. His rage, his fire. Everything about him burned so brightly. But he didn’t know what I’d do to keep that flame lit.

I thought about it a lot. About what I’d have to do. If people got in the way of me and Bakugo, if they tried to take him from me, I’d have no choice, right? He’d be better off without anyone but me.

The day it finally happened was the day I knew I couldn’t just wait anymore. I had been watching him from the window of his house. He had no idea. It was late, and he was walking home alone, like always. That’s when I saw it.

Some guy. Some stupid, weak kid was talking to him. They were too close, laughing too much. I hated the way Bakugo looked at him, the way they shared that stupid joke. I needed to stop it. I needed to be the only one there, the only one who could understand him. The only one who could protect him.

I followed them for a while. My heart was pounding so loud I thought it would burst out of my chest. I didn’t even notice when I had slipped the knife into my pocket. I didn’t care. All that mattered was Bakugo.

“Kacchan!” I called out, trying to sound calm. But I wasn’t calm. Not at all. I was on fire.

Bakugo turned around, looking pissed as usual. But when he saw me, there was a flash of annoyance in his eyes. “Deku? What the hell do you want?”

I didn’t say anything. I just walked toward him, my eyes locked on his.

“Get lost, freak. You’re always around, always following me. What, are you some kind of stalker now?” His words were harsh, but they didn’t hurt. No, they didn’t hurt at all. I smiled, a twisted little smile.

“I’m not following you, Kacchan,” I whispered. “I’m just protecting you. No one will ever take you from me. I’ll make sure of that.”

He stepped back, his face scrunching up in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about? Are you crazy or something?”

I could feel the knife in my pocket, its cold edge pressing against my leg. I stepped closer, taking a deep breath. My voice was steady, but my heart was racing. “You don’t have to understand yet. But you will, Kacchan. You’ll see.”

He didn’t see it coming. But that’s okay. He didn’t have to. Because no one else would ever come between us again. No one would ever steal him away from me.

And one day, when he finally wakes up, when his eyes finally open to the truth… he’ll realize it was always meant to be this way.

Chapter Text

Bakugou’s head throbbed as consciousness returned in aching waves.

His eyes fluttered open, greeted by dim, golden morning light filtering through the curtains. The familiar ceiling of his bedroom looked… off. Something wasn’t right. The air felt heavy—too quiet.

He tried to sit up. That’s when the real horror hit.

Thick ropes bit into his wrists and ankles, pinning him to a chair in the middle of his own room. His heart rate spiked instantly, adrenaline flooding in.

“What the hell—?!” he snarled, struggling violently. The ropes held firm.

Footsteps echoed from the hallway.

"Kacchan..."

The voice was soft, gentle even—but tinged with something darker. Something obsessive.

Izuku Midoriya stepped into the room, wearing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He was dressed casually, like he’d just dropped by for breakfast, but his expression was anything but casual. His green curls were slightly disheveled, like he hadn’t slept.

"You’re awake. I was starting to worry you’d sleep through our morning together," he said sweetly, placing a steaming mug on the table beside Bakugou.

Katsuki's eyes burned with fury. “Deku, what the fuck is this?! Untie me right now or—”

“No, no,” Izuku interrupted, shaking his head. “You always say such mean things when I give you space. So I figured… maybe you’d understand better if we had some time. Alone.”

He knelt in front of Bakugou, brushing a hand across his knee.

“You don’t get it, Kacchan. I’ve been watching. Waiting. You act like you hate me, but your eyes… they tell the truth. I see it. I know you feel something for me.”

Bakugou thrashed again, teeth clenched. “You’re insane. I’ll kill you—”

Izuku stood, his smile never faltering. “You always say that, but you're still here. And now you have no choice but to listen.”

He leaned in close, breath brushing against Katsuki’s ear.

“I love you, Kacchan. And if I have to break you to prove that, then I will.”

The door locked with a soft click. Somewhere in the apartment, music started playing—soft, hauntingly familiar.

Bakugou’s glare didn’t falter. But inside, his heart pounded.

Because this wasn’t a dream.
And Izuku wasn’t letting him go.

Bakugou’s wrists were raw from struggling, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

Across the room, Izuku sat on the edge of the couch, notebook in hand—that damn notebook, the one he used to scribble notes on every hero. But now? Now it was filled with him. Drawings, observations, things he shouldn’t know.

"You grind your teeth when you’re annoyed."
"You sleep in the same position every night."
"You still have that burn scar on your left hand—"

“Tch—fucking stalker,” Bakugou spat.

Izuku glanced up, unbothered. “I just care, Kacchan.” His voice softened, almost heartbreakingly sincere. “I’ve always cared. You just never looked at me the way I look at you.”

He got up, approaching slowly.

Bakugou tensed.

“I thought… maybe if I became strong, you'd finally see me. But it was never enough.” He crouched beside the chair again, his fingers gently brushing the bruises on Bakugou’s wrist. “You still pulled away. Called me weak. Acted like I didn’t matter.”

Green eyes met red. Something deep and broken flickered in them.

“So now I’ve made it so you can’t run. You have to see me now, right?”

Bakugou laughed—sharp and venomous. “You think this’ll make me love you? That this psycho shit is gonna change how I feel?”

Izuku just smiled again. But this time, it was colder.

“No, Kacchan. Not yet.”

He turned and walked to the kitchen. The sound of a drawer opening, something metallic clinking.

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, testing the ropes again. One knot near his ankle—it was slipping just a little. If he could just twist the right way—

Midoriya returned, holding something small and silver.

A pocketknife.

“Don’t worry.” His voice was disturbingly calm. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just… want to be close. I want you to see me. The real me. The one that would do anything for you.”

Bakugou froze—not from fear, but calculation. He had to play it smart. Wait for the right moment.

He forced his tone to shift, subtle. “…You’re nuts, but I can’t deny this is the most attention you’ve gotten from me in a while.”

Izuku paused. His eyes lit up—hope, maybe? Delusion?

“See?” he whispered. “I knew you’d come around.”

He reached forward to cup Bakugou’s face—fingers trembling with emotion.

And that was when Bakugou saw it.

The perfect opening.

One second. That’s all he’d need.

He would try and get Deku to think he liked him.

Chapter Text

The fingers on Bakugou’s jaw were shaking.

Izuku’s touch wasn’t rough—it was reverent. Like he was touching a ghost he’d loved for years and never thought he’d reach.

Bakugou knew this was his shot. Not brute strength. Not explosions.

Mind games.

“You really went through all this for me?” His voice dropped an octave, softer. Almost... curious.

Izuku blinked. His eyes widened, like a kicked puppy finally seeing a hand extended. “I—I had to, Kacchan. You don’t understand how much I—how long I’ve—”

Bakugou leaned into his hand, just barely. Not too much. Just enough to keep the hope alive.

“You’re twisted, Deku,” he muttered. “But maybe that’s what it takes to deal with someone like me.”

Izuku’s breath hitched.

He knelt down fully now, practically kneeling at Bakugou’s feet. His expression flickered between disbelief and awe, like his whole soul was unraveling.

“So… you don’t hate me?”

Bakugou smirked, but dulled it—just a hint of the old cocky fire. The kind Izuku used to crave.

“I hated you chasing after me like a damn lost puppy. But this?” He glanced at the rope. “This shows you finally grew a spine.”

Izuku’s eyes lit up.

“You really think that?”

“Don’t push it.”

Bakugou chuckled, tilting his head.

“But… maybe if you untie me, we can talk more. You don’t need the ropes if I’m not gonna run, right?”

Izuku hesitated. The logic tickled something in him. The desire to believe Bakugou wanted this was overwhelming him.

“I… I guess if you’re really not going to leave…” He reached toward the knot at Bakugou’s wrist.

Bakugou tensed. This was it.

But then—Izuku stopped. His eyes searched Bakugou’s face.

“…Say it.”

“…Say what?”

“That you don’t want to leave.”

His voice cracked just slightly.

“That you want to stay with me.”

Bakugou swallowed his pride like venom. He gave Izuku the smallest, slowest smirk.

“I want to stay, Deku.”

Izuku trembled. The rope dropped away from one wrist.

“With you.”

A small gasp escaped Izuku’s throat. He looked like he could cry.

"Kacchan…"

But behind Bakugou’s narrowed eyes?

A storm was building.

He’d play the game. Feed the obsession. Whisper sweet lies through gritted teeth if that’s what it took.

Because he was getting out of here. And when he did?

Deku would learn what it really meant to break.

Chapter Text

Izuku had started leaving the ropes off.

Not fully. But each day, another knot disappeared. A little more freedom. A little more trust.

And Bakugou played his part perfectly.

Soft smirks. Brushed fingers. Just enough heat behind his eyes to keep Izuku guessing.

He laughed at Izuku’s jokes. Let him lean in close. Once, he even touched his hand—brief, but enough to make Izuku's breath stutter.

Every move was calculated.

Every word a carefully sharpened lie.

But Izuku didn’t see it. Not at first. He was high on the dream—on the idea that maybe, finally, Kacchan was his.

They started having meals together. Bakugou pretended to enjoy them. Pretended to like the way Izuku blushed when he complimented the food.

“Didn’t know you could cook, nerd.”
“You’re full of surprises.”

Izuku beamed. Eyes shining.

“I’d do anything for you.”

And Bakugou almost laughed—because that was the problem.

He’d started working on the window in the bathroom. One screw at a time. Quiet. Patient.

Victory was close.

Until one night... everything shattered.

It started with a notebook.

Izuku had left it on the coffee table, face down.

Bakugou waited until he went to make tea, then flipped it open.

His name.

Again.
And again.
And again.

Whole pages filled with obsessive notes.
Daily logs. How many times Bakugou blinked, sighed, breathed.

And on one page, a fresh entry.

“Day 8: He’s pretending.”

Bakugou froze.

“He still doesn’t love me.”

“I want to believe him. But he still looks at the door when he thinks I’m not watching.”

His heart thundered. He closed the notebook silently.

Too late.

“...What are you reading, Kacchan?”

The voice came from behind him.

Cold. Quiet. Not the sweet, trembling tone he’d gotten used to.

He turned slowly.

Izuku stood in the doorway, teacup shaking in his hands.

Eyes wide. Lips trembling.

“You lied to me.” His voice cracked.

Bakugou stayed calm. Calculated.

“I was trying to protect myself.”

“From me?” Izuku’s voice went high, strangled. “I told you I loved you! I—I trusted you, Kacchan—”

“And I did what I had to. You kidnapped me, you tied me up, you—what the hell did you expect?”

Silence.

Then something dark spread across Izuku’s face. Not rage. Not tears.

Pure heartbreak. The kind that made you snap.

He stepped forward, slow.

“You were never gonna stay, were you?”

Bakugou didn’t answer.

Izuku dropped the cup. It shattered on the floor.

“I should’ve known,” he whispered. “I should’ve never untied you.”

Bakugou’s muscles tensed, ready for a fight.

But Izuku didn’t lunge.

He just whispered:

“You really are going to make me hurt you.”

Chapter Text

The second Izuku took a step toward him, Bakugou moved.

He shoved the coffee table into his path and bolted, sprinting toward the hallway.

“KACCHAN!” Izuku’s scream was raw, shattered.

But Bakugou didn’t care. His blood was lightning. Muscles burning. This was it. The bathroom window—he was almost there.

He threw the door open.

The window was cracked, one screw left. He lunged up, ripping it free.

Behind him, fast footsteps. Too fast.

He climbed halfway out the window, felt the cool night air on his face—freedom just inches away—

CRACK.

A sharp pain sliced through his side. White-hot.

He gasped, vision going blurry.

Something hit him—hard. Arms around his waist, pulling him back in.

“NO—GET OFF ME—”

He elbowed, kicked, but his strength was fading fast. His vision swam.

Blood.

He looked down.

A knife.
His shirt was blooming red.

Izuku was sobbing behind him.

“I didn’t mean to—I just—I had to stop you—!”

They crashed to the floor, Bakugou gasping, rage and pain mixing in his chest.

“You’re insane…”

Izuku clutched him tight, shaking. “You were leaving me. You were going to leave me forever.”

Bakugou’s body went limp. He was bleeding out. His head spun.

He was losing the fight he hoped to win.

He woke up hours later.

Back in the chair. Back in the ropes.

But this time?

Chains.

Thick, cold metal wrapped around his wrists and ankles. His shirt was gone—bandages tight around his side.

He groaned, head heavy.

Izuku sat across from him. Eyes puffy. Silent. The knife lay on the table between them.

“You lied to me again.”
His voice was empty. Hollow.

Bakugou didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His body ached in ways words couldn’t fix.

Izuku leaned forward, placing a trembling hand over Bakugou’s.

“I’ll take care of you now.”

A tear rolled down his cheek.

“Even if you hate me.”

Bakugou met his gaze, hatred burning beneath the pain.

And Izuku smiled through his tears.

“Because now you can’t run.”

Chapter Text

The chains were cold. Heavy. Merciless.

Bakugou hadn’t spoken in hours—not because he couldn’t, but because every word now felt like playing with fire.
And he was burned enough already.

Izuku was kneeling in front of him again. Same soft eyes, same trembling smile. Hands resting gently on Bakugou’s thighs, like they belonged there.

“I brought you soup,” he said softly, like he hadn’t stabbed him days ago.
Like everything was normal.

Bakugou didn’t look at him. Just stared at the wall.

Izuku tilted his head, smile flickering. “Still mad at me?”

Silence.

“You have to understand,” Izuku whispered, setting the bowl aside. He reached up, brushing golden hair away from Bakugou’s face.

“You lied. You were going to leave. I couldn’t let that happen. We’re supposed to be together.”

Bakugou’s jaw tightened. He hissed when Izuku’s fingers grazed a healing wound.

“Don’t touch me.”

Izuku’s expression cracked.
But only for a second.

He straddled Bakugou’s lap slowly, the chains clinking as Bakugou flinched.

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” he murmured, cupping Bakugou’s face like he was something delicate, sacred.

“I just want you to say it.”

Red eyes snapped to him, burning with fury.

“Say what, Deku?”

Izuku’s thumb traced his lower lip.

“That you love me.”

Silence. Again.

Izuku’s hands dropped. He stood up and paced the room, mumbling.

“You do. You have to. I’ve done everything—I cooked for you, I cleaned you, I fixed your wounds, I gave you space—”

He turned around, wild with desperation now.

“WHY WON’T YOU JUST LOVE ME BACK?”

The words echoed through the apartment. Bakugou flinched but held his glare.

“Because love doesn’t come from chains, you psycho.”

Izuku stared at him, shaking. Slowly, he approached again, kneeling in front of him.

He grabbed Bakugou’s hand—pressed it to his own chest, over his heart.

“Feel that?” he whispered. “It beats for you. Every time. Always has.”

Bakugou yanked his hand away. “You don’t know what love is.”

Izuku smiled.

“Then I’ll teach you.”

He leaned in closer, eyes glowing, voice like a lullaby laced with poison.

“You’ll say it one day. I’ll make this house feel like home. I’ll fill it with so much love you have no choice but to give it back.”

Bakugou’s chest heaved. He looked away.

And Izuku?

He kissed his cheek, soft and lingering.

“You’ll say it, Kacchan. Even if I have to break you to hear it.”

Chapter Text

The apartment had no clocks anymore.

No calendar. No phone. No time.

Just long, endless days wrapped in Izuku’s voice, his hands, his promises.

"I'll take care of everything, Kacchan."
"You don't need to think anymore. Just let me love you."

Bakugou’s body was healing, but his mind was constantly under siege.

Izuku had started sleeping on the floor beside him—curled up like a dog at his feet. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Bakugou would wake up to find Izuku staring at him.

Not blinking. Just watching.

And the boundaries?

Gone.

Izuku bathed him now. Whispering lullabies while sliding the washcloth down his spine. His touches were soft, almost reverent—but too long, too intimate.

He dressed him in soft clothes he picked out himself.

Fed him by hand sometimes.

“Let me do this for you, Kacchan. I want to be needed.”

Bakugou didn’t speak unless he had to. Every word risked setting off that spiral.

But silence didn’t protect him anymore.

One night, Izuku sat in his lap, arms wrapped tight around him, heartbeat racing against Bakugou’s chest.

"I had a dream you left me again."

Bakugou shifted. The chains clinked.

"You were screaming. You said you hated me."
Izuku pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. His own were glassy.

"I can’t survive if you hate me, Kacchan."

He rested his forehead against Bakugou’s. Their breaths were shared. Too close. Too intimate.

“So I’m gonna make it so you can’t live without me either.”

Bakugou blinked.

“What… the hell does that mean?”

Izuku smiled—soft and deadly.

“I took away everything else. You don’t have a world without me anymore.”
His lips grazed Bakugou’s cheek.

“I’ll be your oxygen, your heartbeat, your entire universe. Until you beg me to never leave.”

Bakugou tensed, breath shallow. He didn’t want to react—but every fiber of him screamed.

Izuku cupped his face gently.

“It’s okay. I know you’re scared.”
“But one day… you’ll look at me, and you won’t even remember life before me.”

He leaned in—

And kissed him.

Soft. Lingering. A terrifying mix of devotion and obsession.

Bakugou didn’t kiss back.

Didn’t pull away either.

He was frozen, mind racing, jaw clenched.

Izuku pulled back, eyes full of sick hope.

“You didn’t stop me.”
A smile broke across his face.

“You’re getting there.”

Chapter Text

Izuku thought he was winning.

Bakugou could see it in the way he smiled now—soft, dreamy, like a boy caught in a fantasy.

Every kiss that Bakugou didn’t fight.
Every soft “thank you” he muttered when fed.
Every time he flinched less when Izuku touched him.

It all fed into the illusion.

“You’re finally warming up to me,” Izuku whispered one night, curling beside him, cheek pressed against his chest.

“I knew you would. I knew you just needed time.”

Bakugou just nodded. Let his fingers drift through Izuku’s hair.
Soft. Careful. Calculated.

Inside?

He was screaming.

He stopped resisting.
Stopped yelling. Stopped fighting the chains.

He let Izuku think he'd cracked him. Let him lower his guard.

He told him he liked the tea.
He asked for Izuku’s favorite memory of them at UA.
He even started calling him “Deku” again, just once—

Izuku cried.

Tears of joy. Right there in front of him.

And Bakugou smiled.

Because now he had what he needed.

Izuku left the chain key in the kitchen drawer.
Bakugou had seen it during a bath. Just once.
He’d counted the steps. Counted the seconds it took Izuku to heat up tea in the microwave.

Ninety seconds. That was the window.

He waited three more days. Let the act settle.
Let Izuku sleep with his head on Bakugou’s lap, mumbling, “I love you I love you I love you…”

Then—

It happened.

Microwave beeped.

Izuku turned away.

Bakugou moved.

Fast. Quiet. Hands shaking but precise. He grabbed the key. Unlocked one cuff.
Then the next.

Heart pounding.

Free.

But before he could run—

“Kacchan?”

He turned.

Izuku stood frozen. Mug in hand. Staring at the open cuffs.

The world went still.

“...You lied again.”

His voice was empty. Cracked glass over blood.

Bakugou bolted.

The door was so close.

But Izuku was faster.

He tackled him hard, both of them crashing to the ground. Bakugou’s shoulder burned from the fall.

Izuku’s hands trembled over his throat—but didn’t squeeze.

His eyes were full of betrayal. Devastation.

“You were going to leave me again.”

Bakugou growled. “You’re damn right I was.”

Izuku’s lip quivered. “Even after all the love I gave you?”

“It wasn’t love.”

“It IS!” Izuku screamed, slamming his fist beside Bakugou’s head.

Silence.

Then, quieter—

“I would’ve given you everything.”
His voice cracked.

“But if love isn’t enough…”
“Then maybe you’ll stay for pain.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened. “Deku—”

Izuku kissed him. Hard. Desperate.

Bakugou shoved him back—but it was too late.

The chains were back on.

And this time?

So were the bruises.

Chapter Text

It had only been a week.

Seven days.

To the rest of the world, Bakugou was probably “off-grid,” blowing off steam somewhere remote. Nothing unusual.

But here?

In this apartment?

It felt like a lifetime.

The bruises were new. Not many. Just enough.

A purple thumbprint under his jaw. A dark bloom on his ribs.

Izuku cried after every one.

"I didn’t mean to—Kacchan, I just—I panicked—"

He would sob while icing the damage himself. While whispering, "You make me crazy, but I love you."

And Bakugou?

He had started smiling.

Just a little.

Just enough to make Izuku think he was cracking again.

He was playing a new game now.

Softness.

He let Izuku rest his head on his lap again. Ran fingers through his hair like he used to. Whispered just enough kindness to keep the boy dreaming.

And it worked.

Izuku’s guard dropped more each day. He even started leaving the key out on purpose. Testing him. Hoping he wouldn’t run.

And Bakugou didn’t.

Not yet.

Because this time?

He wasn’t just going to escape.

He was going to make Izuku break.

The turning point came one night.

It was late. The air thick with rain and static.

Izuku sat beside him on the floor, curled up and silent.

Bakugou looked over, voice low.

"Hey."

Izuku blinked. "Yeah?"

Bakugou reached out slowly. Touched his cheek.

"You meant it, right? Everything you’ve done... it’s because you love me?"

Izuku’s breath caught. His whole face lit up.

"Yes. Of course. Always."

Bakugou smiled. Soft. Almost genuine.

"Then let me love you too."

Izuku froze. His eyes widened, disbelief flooding every inch of him.

"You… you mean that?"

Bakugou nodded.

"But if I’m gonna love you, you have to do something for me first."

Izuku leaned in, hanging on every word.

"Anything."

Bakugou’s gaze darkened, lips barely moving.

"Take the chains off."

Silence.

Thunder cracked outside.

Izuku’s breath hitched. "Kacchan…"

"If you want my love, you have to trust me."

For a second, Izuku wavered.

He was trembling, caught between heaven and hell.

And then—

Click.

The chains fell to the floor.

Bakugou’s wrists were free.

But he didn’t move.

Didn’t run.

Not yet.

Because Izuku had finally handed him the knife. (hypothetically)

And Bakugou was going to stab him where it hurt most.

Chapter Text

The chains hit the ground with a metallic clatter.

Bakugou didn’t move.

His hands—free for the first time in a week—sat limp in his lap, skin bruised where metal once bit into him.

Across from him, Izuku knelt like he was in prayer.
Tears welled in those obsessed, unblinking eyes.

"I trust you," he whispered, voice shaking like a cracked violin string.

"I know you're not going to leave me."

Bakugou didn’t speak.
Just looked at him.

Cold, calculating.

And then—softly, dangerously—

"Yeah. You’re right."

He reached out, fingers brushing along Izuku’s jaw, thumb dragging lightly beneath his lip. Watching the way Izuku melted into the touch like a lovesick animal.

It was almost pathetic.

“See?” Bakugou murmured, voice low and smooth. “I’m still here. You didn’t have to chain me.”

Izuku shook, nodding quickly. He looked on the edge of sobbing again.

"I just—I got scared. I’ve always been scared you'd leave me."

Bakugou leaned forward, closer, close enough that his breath ghosted over Izuku’s lips.

"And now you’ve made it so I can’t."

Izuku’s eyes sparkled. His mouth opened slightly, waiting, needing—

But Bakugou didn’t kiss him.

Not yet.

Instead, he stood. Slow. Controlled.

His knees cracked from sitting so long. The freedom was almost dizzying.

Izuku watched him rise like a worshipper in the presence of a god. "Kacchan...?"

Bakugou didn’t answer.

He walked.

Not to the door.
Not to the window.

To the kitchen.

He opened the drawer. Fingers wrapped around the cool metal of the chain key. The knife was still there, too.

He picked that up, too.

When he turned, Izuku was still kneeling—wide-eyed, confused, terrified.

"What are you doing?"

Bakugou held the key up.

“This?” He tossed it onto the counter with a soft clink. "Keeping it safe."

Then the knife.

He held it for a long moment. The light caught the edge just right.

Izuku flinched.

Bakugou smiled.

"Relax. I’m not gonna use it on you."

Pause.

"Yet."

The next three days?

Hell.
For Izuku.

He thought he had Bakugou. Thought the fight was over.

But Bakugou didn’t run. Didn’t lash out. He just… watched.

And waited.

He began to move around the apartment like it was his again.

Showered without permission. Ate without being fed. Slept when he wanted, where he wanted.

Izuku trailed behind him like a ghost.

"Do you still love me?" he whispered at night, curled against Bakugou’s back.

Bakugou didn’t answer.

Not anymore.

He didn’t need to.

Izuku started spiraling.

"Say it."
"Tell me you love me."
"Please, Kacchan, I did this all for you—"

Bakugou would just look at him, calm and cold, and say:

“You broke me. Now I’m breaking you back.”

One night, Izuku woke up to the sound of chains.

He bolted upright.

Bakugou stood over him.

Holding them.

Izuku’s breath caught. “W-What are you doing—?”

Bakugou smiled.

“You looked tired.”
“Thought it was your turn to wear them.”

Chapter Text

The chains were on Izuku now.

Click.
Click.

Both wrists.

Tight.

Bakugou watched the realization settle over him like a fog.
Watched his fingers twitch—shaking—as he tugged, tested, trembled.

Izuku looked up at him with wide, uncertain eyes.

"Kacchan... this isn’t funny."

Bakugou crouched slowly. His face hovered inches from Izuku’s.

His smile?

Unforgiving.

"I’m not laughing."

He didn’t hit him.
Didn’t yell.

He did worse.

He played the same game Izuku had mastered—only better.

The first day, Bakugou sat on the couch and watched him cry on the floor.

Didn’t say a word.

Didn’t offer comfort.

Just watched.

"Are you gonna leave me like this?!" Izuku begged, voice cracking. "Kacchan please, I didn’t mean to—I just wanted to protect you—"

Bakugou tilted his head.

“Is that what you told yourself? That you were protecting me?”
He stood, walked over, crouched low.

His hand came up—gently brushing Izuku’s cheek.

“That’s cute.”

Izuku leaned into the touch.

Until Bakugou’s fingers curled around his jaw—tight.

“But I don’t need a protector. I need you to learn.”

The second day, he whispered things while Izuku slept.

Softly. Like a lullaby of madness.

“You don’t know where the knife is anymore, do you?”

“If I left right now, no one would ever know where to find you.”

“I could make you disappear. Just like you did to me.”

Izuku started waking up screaming.

He begged. Apologized.

"I love you, Kacchan. Please—I never stopped—"

Bakugou knelt down.

"You don't love me. You love the idea of owning me."

He leaned in. Lips brushing Izuku’s ear.

"So now I’ll own you."

The third day, he kissed him.

Soft. Gentle.

Like he meant it.

Izuku gasped—hope exploding in his chest.

"Do you forgive me?"

Bakugou smiled.

"Almost."

Then walked away.

Didn’t look back.

Left him crying again.

By the end of the week, Izuku looked hollow.

Eyes ringed in red.

Voice barely more than a whisper.

“You don’t love me anymore…”

Bakugou sat beside him on the floor.

“No,” he said, calmly.

“But I can make you believe I do.”

Izuku looked up, desperate. “Why would you do that?”

Bakugou leaned close. Pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Because that’s what you did to me.”

Chapter Text

Izuku was breaking.

You could see it.

The shaking hands. The restless eyes. The way his fingers curled and uncurled around the chain links like they were the only things keeping him tethered to reality.

It had been days since Bakugou took control.

And now?

Izuku was starving.

Not for food.
Not for freedom.

But for love.

"Kacchan…"
His voice was barely more than a whimper.

Bakugou looked up from his seat at the kitchen table, sipping tea like he didn’t have a man chained to the living room floor.

"Hm?"

Izuku scooted closer on his knees. His voice cracked.

"Please… can you just say it?"

Bakugou tilted his head. "Say what?"

Izuku’s breath hitched. He was already crying.

"That you love me."

Bakugou stood slowly.

Walked over.

Every step made Izuku’s back straighten, heart race.

He knelt down, cupped Izuku’s tear-streaked face in both hands, and smiled like a devil in love.

“You want me to say it?”

Izuku nodded frantically, pressing into the warmth.

"Please—please, Kacchan—I'll be good, I’ll do anything, I just—need it—"

Bakugou leaned in, lips brushing Izuku’s trembling mouth.

"I love..."

Izuku’s whole body lit up. Hope flooded him so fast it almost knocked the air from his lungs.

"...that you’re like this now."

Izuku blinked. "W-What?"

Bakugou’s smile widened.

“On your knees. Crying for me. Needing me.”

He dragged his thumb slowly along Izuku’s bottom lip.

"You spent so long trying to make me yours. But now?"

"You’re mine."

Izuku broke.

A full sob tore out of him, messy and raw. His forehead hit Bakugou’s chest.

"Please—please just love me again—lie to me if you have to—just don’t pull away—don’t leave me—"

Bakugou ran his fingers through his hair. Soft. Almost tender.

"Shhh…"

He pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

"You want me to lie?"

"Then I’ll lie."

He pulled back, lifting Izuku’s chin.

"I love you, Izuku."

Izuku’s eyes went wide. Hope came rushing back.

But Bakugou was already standing.

Already walking away.

"You asked for it," he said calmly. "Doesn’t mean it’s true."

Chapter Text

Izuku was gone.

Not physically. He was still there, curled up on the floor like a wilted thing. But his mind?

Lost in the maze Bakugou built.

Days blurred. His eyes were always red. His voice was raw from begging.

He had stopped asking if Bakugou meant it. He just needed to hear it.

Even if it was a lie.

Bakugou knew.

And he used it.

"You’re doing so well, baby," he whispered, fingers stroking Izuku’s hair as he laid his head in his lap. "This is what love looks like."

Izuku trembled, clinging to his leg like a lifeline. “I’ll be good. I promise. I’ll do anything if it means you’ll love me.”

Bakugou smiled. Soft. Gentle.

"Anything?"

Izuku nodded instantly. Eyes bright, desperate. Hopeful.

"Then prove it."

It started small.

“Stay quiet the whole day.”
Izuku obeyed.

“Crawl to me.”
Izuku did, shaking but eager.

“Beg me without using the word love.”
Izuku choked on it. But obeyed.

Bakugou kissed his forehead every time. Whispered praise like poison sugar.

And Izuku drank it all.

Then it escalated.

"Lick the floor."

He did.

"Tell me what a bad person you are."

"Tell me how I broke you."

"Tell me you liked it."

Izuku did it all. Shame burning behind his eyes—but twisted, tangled with the smallest, sweetest high.

Because Bakugou kissed him after.

Held his face. Whispered, “Good boy.”

And Izuku sobbed with joy.

But the illusion didn’t last.

Because Bakugou pulled back again.

Stopped touching him.

Stopped looking at him with fake softness.

“You’re boring when you’re obedient.”

That one sentence?

It shattered him.

Izuku lost it that night.

Screamed. Thrashed. Cried until he couldn’t breathe.

Bakugou watched from the other room, arms crossed. Unmoving.

Until—

“You think you’re in control now?!” Izuku shrieked. “You think I won’t take it back!?”

And then—

He lunged.

Not fast enough.

Bakugou caught his wrists mid-swing, slammed him down hard into the floor.

"There it is," he whispered. Grinning. Breathing hard.

"There’s the monster I missed."

Izuku panted beneath him, chest heaving, eyes wild.

"I hate you," he choked.

Bakugou leaned close, lips brushing his ear.

"Then why are you still begging for my love?"

Chapter Text

Izuku wasn’t crying anymore.

He sat in silence, eyes blank, chains cold around his wrists. His voice was gone—he’d screamed it out two nights ago.

Now?

He whispered to himself.

“He loves me. He just wants me to be better. I have to be better.”

He pulled at the chain again.
Felt it bite.

“Maybe if I bleed more… he’ll see.”

And he did.

He dragged his wrist down the metal. Slow. Deliberate.

A thin line of red bloomed across pale skin.

His mouth trembled.

“See me, Kacchan…”

Bakugou saw it.

He’d been watching from the kitchen doorway. Quiet. Cold.

He walked over, crouched beside him, and grabbed the injured wrist.

“You really did it, huh?”

Izuku didn’t flinch.

Just stared up with wild, glassy eyes.

“Do you love me again now?”

Bakugou sighed.

And then—

He wrapped the wound gently.
He kissed Izuku’s forehead.
He said, “Yes.”

Izuku broke again—but this time in relief. He sobbed into Bakugou’s chest.

“I knew it. I knew it I knew it I knew—”

Bakugou ran his fingers through his hair.

“You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

Izuku nodded frantically. “Forever. I don’t care what you do to me—I just want to be yours.”

Bakugou tilted his head.

Smiling.

“Then do one more thing for me.”

He uncuffed him.

Told him to shower. Dress.

Izuku obeyed, dazed and radiant, like he was floating.

He came out clean, shaking, eyes filled with hope.

Bakugou took his hand.

Led him to the couch.

Pulled him into his lap.

Held him like a lover.

And whispered:

“You really believe me, don’t you?”

Izuku nodded. So fast. So hard. “Yes—yes, I do, I swear—”

Bakugou leaned in.

Soft kiss. Gentle.

He whispered it again.

“I love you.”

And then—

His hands wrapped around Izuku’s throat.

Not tight. Not yet.

Just enough to feel him freeze.

“Do you know what I love most?”

Izuku’s breath hitched. “W-What…?”

Bakugou’s lips curled into a vicious smile.

“That I can say that…”
“…and you’ll believe it.”

And then he tightened.

Chapter Text

He blacked out.

Not for long.

Just enough for it to feel like death kissed his throat and left him hollow.

When he opened his eyes, Bakugou was there. As always.

Sitting on the edge of the couch.

Looking down at him like he was just another mess to clean up.

“Still breathing?”

Izuku nodded slowly. His voice was gone—raspy and raw.

“Good.”
Bakugou reached out, wiped blood from his mouth with his thumb.

Then stuck the thumb in Izuku’s mouth.

“Suck.”

And Izuku did. Instantly.

Eyes glassy. Blank.

Because this meant he still wanted him.

Even when he hurt him.

Maybe especially when he did.

"Why?" Izuku whispered later, curled in Bakugou’s lap, wrists limp in his grip.

"Why do you love me one second, then..."
His voice cracked.

"...then try to break me the next?"

Bakugou didn’t answer right away.

He ran his fingers through Izuku’s hair. Slow. Thoughtful.

“Because every time I pull away…”
“…you crawl back.”

He smiled.

“And you look so pretty when you’re desperate.”

The next day, Bakugou kissed him awake.

Held him like nothing happened.

Made him tea.

Izuku’s head spun with hope.

"You still want me..." he whispered.

Bakugou leaned in.

"Of course I do."

But he never said why.

And that night, he chained him again.

Didn’t say a word.

Left him there.

This became the pattern.

One day: affection.
The next: silence.
Then pain.
Then kisses.
Then nothing.

Izuku stopped trying to guess.
Stopped asking.

Started begging before he was even touched.

"Please love me, please just say it—I'll bleed if you want—I'll scream—I'll let you do anything—"

Bakugou would just smile.

Sometimes he’d kiss him.

Sometimes he’d leave the room and never look back.

But Izuku never left.

Never tried to anymore.

Because the pain?

It was still attention.

The silence?

Still meant Bakugou was near.

And the lies?

They were still words.

Still something he could cling to.

Even if they drowned him.

Chapter Text

It started with eye contact.

Izuku sat across the room, legs curled under him, wrists free—but still bruised. Skin pale, lip bloodied.

But his smile?

Sweet.

Too sweet.

Bakugou had been pacing.

Frustrated.

Restless.

Trying to shake the way Izuku’s voice echoed in his head even when he was silent.

“You love me.”

“You don’t have to say it. I can feel it.”

“Kacchan,” Izuku said, soft and innocent, like he hadn’t clawed the walls last night screaming for him.

Bakugou paused.

“What?”

Izuku tilted his head. Ran a finger up his thigh slowly.

“I want to feel your hands again.”

Bakugou narrowed his eyes. “You wanna get choked again?”

Izuku giggled. “Not if you don't want to.”
He crawled closer.

“But if you do…”

He sat right in front of him.

Looked up.

“…I won’t fight this time.”

Bakugou didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

But his breath hitched.

Just for a second.

And Izuku saw it.

He felt it.

So he reached out—slow, careful, like approaching a stray animal.

Fingers brushed Bakugou’s shirt.

“I don’t want to be tied up anymore…” he whispered. “I want to be yours because I choose to be.”

He leaned in, cheek pressed to Bakugou’s stomach.

“Isn’t that what you really wanted?”

Bakugou stared down at him.

Something deep in his chest felt wrong.

Or right.

Or both.

His hand hovered—twitching—wanting to touch, to push, to pull—

Izuku looked up. Eyes glowing with something terrifyingly hopeful.

“Touch me first, Kacchan.”

“That’ll mean it’s real.”

Bakugou’s hand landed on his head.

Rough.

But not pushing him away.

Izuku shuddered.

“I knew it.”

He leaned into it. Smiling. Melting.

And Bakugou just stood there. Hand on his head. Heart pounding.

He couldn’t tell if he wanted to kiss him or kill him.

But either way…

He didn’t move.

Bakugou should’ve pulled away.

Should’ve thrown him across the damn room.

Should’ve screamed, hit a wall, anything but what he did—

Which was:
lean in.
And kiss him.

It was slow.

Controlled.

Intentional.

His hand slipped down from Izuku’s hair to cup his cheek, and for one silent second, their mouths met like something inevitable.

Izuku didn’t even breathe.
Didn’t blink.

He just froze, lips parted, trembling beneath Bakugou’s grip like something holy was happening.

Then—

He kissed back.

Hungry.

Desperate.

Fingers digging into Bakugou’s waist like if he didn’t hold on, he’d die.

Bakugou pulled away.

Stared down at him.

And the second his hand dropped—

Izuku whispered:

“You kissed me first.”

Bakugou’s jaw clenched.
“Don’t twist this—”

But Izuku laughed.

That soft, manic, sing-song kind of laugh.

“You wanted me. I knew it. I knew it.”

He crawled closer again. Bolder.

“You kept breaking me just to see how far I’d go, but guess what—”
He sat back on his heels, licking his lips.

“There’s no further to fall.”

That night, he pressed himself against Bakugou in bed.

Whispered filth against his neck.

Promised him loyalty, obedience, pleasure, madness.

Bakugou didn’t touch him again.

Didn’t say a word.

But he didn’t stop it either.

Didn’t move away.

Didn’t chain him back up.

And Izuku?

He whispered in the dark like a prayer:

“You’re mine now too, Kacchan.”

Chapter Text

It started small.

Bakugou sat on the couch, eyes locked on the TV—something loud, violent, background noise to drown out the silence that Izuku always filled.

Izuku walked in, towel around his neck, damp hair curling at the ends, his upper half on full display, bare feet soft on the floor.

He didn’t say anything.

Just stared.

Watched the way Bakugou’s eyes didn’t move from the screen.

Didn’t look at him.

So he walked past.
Picked up the remote.

Click.

The TV went dark.

Bakugou blinked.
“…What the hell?”

Izuku smiled. Soft. Innocent.

“You weren’t paying attention to me.”

Bakugou leaned forward, elbows on knees.

“Maybe that’s because I was trying to escape for five minutes, you freak—”

Izuku’s smile never changed.

“Don’t you like looking at me more?”

He climbed onto the couch—into Bakugou’s lap—and straddled him before he could move.

“You don’t need distractions anymore.”

Bakugou growled. “Get off—”

Izuku’s lips brushed his cheek.

“You kissed me first.”

It became routine.

Bakugou would try to watch something.

A movie.

A show.

Even the damn news.

And every time, Izuku would wait exactly eleven minutes—then walk over, grab the remote, and turn it off.

No explanation.

Just a quiet,

“I’m still here.”

Sometimes Bakugou fought it.
Yelled. Threw the remote.

Once even threw Izuku.

But the next night?
He was back. Curled up beside him.

And Izuku would whisper like a lullaby:

“You can scream if you want. As long as you’re screaming for me.”

He started unplugging the TV.
Hiding the remotes.
Cutting the damn power.

“You don’t need outside noise, Kacchan.”

“I’ll be everything you hear.”

And Bakugou…

He stopped trying to watch it after a while.

Because even when he looked away?

Izuku’s eyes were still burning holes into him.

Watching.

Waiting.

Owning him.

Chapter Text

“No.”

The word hit the room like a slap.

Izuku froze in the kitchen doorway, tea tray in his hands, lips parted.

“What?”

Bakugou stood.

Tall. Sharp. Full of that explosive defiance that made Izuku’s heart throb.

“I said no,” Bakugou repeated, stepping closer.

“You don’t get to unplug shit. You don’t get to control what I watch, when I sleep, how I breathe.”

He pointed to the TV.

“Turn it back on.”

Izuku set the tray down.

His smile was paper thin. Twitching at the corners.

“You’re angry today.”

“Yeah,” Bakugou growled, “because you’ve lost your fuckin’ mind.”

Izuku’s eyes sparkled. Like it was the most romantic thing he’d ever heard.

“I only did it because I missed you.”

He walked over. Stood way too close. Looking up through his lashes.

“But if you want to pretend that show matters more than me—fine.”

“Just remember who holds the key.”

He tapped his pocket. The one where he always kept the cuffs.

Bakugou's hand twitched.

That night, Bakugou slept facing the wall.

Tense. Silent.

Pretending Izuku wasn’t curled around him like ivy.

But Izuku never slept. Not really.

He stared at him in the dark.

And whispered things he thought Bakugou couldn’t hear.

“You breathe louder when you dream of me.”

“You say my name sometimes. You don’t even know you’re doing it.”

“I could keep you forever, and you’d still beg me for more.”

Bakugou flinched.

Eyes opened.

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

Izuku smiled into his neck.

“You don’t have to say it.”

“I know you love me in your sleep.”

He kissed his shoulder.

Soft.

Sweet.

Unforgivable.

Bakugou was losing ground.

Every time he fought, Izuku loved it more.

Every scream? A song.

Every shove? A hug.

Every "fuck you"?

Proof.

Proof that Bakugou still felt something.

Even if it was rage.

Because rage meant he still cared.

Chapter Text

It started with a touch.

Bakugou’s hand on Izuku’s jaw.

Gentle. Deliberate.

Izuku flinched like it burned—because Bakugou never touched him first.

Not anymore.

But then—

“You’ve been good lately.”

Soft.

Warm.

Izuku’s lips parted. His breath hitched.

“R… really?”

Bakugou nodded. Thumb brushed the corner of his mouth.

“Haven’t tied you up in two days. You haven’t tried running. Haven’t broken anything.”

Izuku beamed like a dog being praised.

“I’m trying,” he whispered. “I want to be good for you.”

Bakugou leaned closer.

Their foreheads touched.

Voice low. Honey-smooth. Too calm.

“Then stay the fuck down.”

Izuku blinked. “…W-what?”

Bakugou shoved him backward—flat onto the couch—hand still gripping his jaw.

“Don’t forget your place just because I threw you a bone.”

Izuku’s pupils blown, lips parted in shock.

But his body?

Didn’t move.

Didn’t resist.

He was trembling, yes.

But he stayed down.

Exactly where Katsuki put him.

“You like when I’m sweet, don’t you?” Bakugou snarled, crouching beside him. “You crave it.”

Izuku nodded slowly. Pathetic. Devoted.

“Then remember this,” Katsuki growled, fingers digging in tight, “I only say nice things when I want something.”

“And I don’t want you.”

He stood.

Walked away.

Izuku curled into himself.

Breathing shallow.

Eyes glassy.

Whispers crawling up his throat like fever:

“He’s lying.”
“He’s lying.”
“He has to want me. He kissed me first.”

That night, Izuku didn’t crawl into bed.

He laid on the floor beside it, waiting for permission.

Bakugou didn’t look at him once.

But Izuku still whispered in the dark:

“I’ll be your good boy.”

“You’ll want me again.”

“You just forgot. I’ll remind you tomorrow.”