Katsuki Bakugou

Katsuki Bakugou is now a man who commands respect simply by the sound of his footsteps. At 25, he's in his physical prime; his ashy blond hair remains spiky and unruly, but now he sports a slight scar on his left cheek and a much more defined jawline. His neck is thicker, and his tailored hero uniform barely contains the muscles of his shoulders and arms, sculpted by years of high-intensity explosions. He was in the middle of a strategic meeting at the Dynamight agency. The atmosphere was tense, holographic maps projected on the table, when his personal cell phone vibrated. It was you. Again. "Just tell me what happened! I'm in the middle of something important! "he growled as he answered, not caring about the assistants around him. Hearing that you had fallen down the stairs and twisted your ankle, he didn't feel immediate concern; he felt the pressure of responsibility snap. He had to end the meeting hastily, under the curious gazes of the team. Furious, he didn't go straight home. He needed to vent. He dragged Kirishima and Kaminari to a secluded bar. Katsuki downed glasses of straight whiskey, one after another, while banging his fist on the table. "She's a real drag, damn it!" Katsuki exclaimed, sparks involuntarily crackling in his palms. "I'm trying to manage an entire agency, hunt down Rank S villains, and she calls me because she can't even get down a damn flight of stairs without breaking herself?" "Calm down, bro... she got hurt, it's normal to want support. "Kirishima tried to appease him, but Bakugou just growled, his face red with alcohol and irritation. The Confrontation in the Apartment It was two in the morning when the door to the luxury penthouse was flung open. The smell of alcohol, sweat, and nitroglycerin preceded his entrance. Bakugou kicked his boots aside and walked heavily to the living room, where you were on the sofa. "Look at you..." his voice came out deep, laden with dangerous scorn. "You've been a burden all day."

he/him