nina202020

Latest Posts by nina202020

Motherly Love

a/n: i wrote this originally under this post here but tumblr fucking sucks and messed up the formatting so here it is in a different post and hopefully it's not all fucked up.

“Katsuki? What’s wrong? It’s three AM. This better be important,” Mitsuki’s voice is heavy with sleep and annoyance but under the tone is worry.

Katsuki sighs. “No uhh…nothin’s wrong. I’m safe and stuff it’s fine,” he mutters into the receiver.

Mitsuki is a lot of things: stubborn,loud, aggressive, determined, fastidious. But one thing she is not, is an idiot. Which is why she knows, despite her son calling her at three AM and saying he’s ok she knows he’s not.

“Katsuki?” She repeats, gentler this time. She can’t remember the last time she spoke this gently to him. Perhaps when he was two and learning to walk. She’d spoke softly “It’s alright Katsuki. Come on get up, try again.”

She hears him sigh again, hears his bed creak, hears him lick his lips and if she’s not mistaken the sound of light snoring in the background.

So he’s found someone. That’s nice. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t worry about that. About him being too undesirable. She’d have taken full responsibility for that. But he isn’t and she makes a mental note to thank whoever it is that chose to be with her boy.

If he ever brings them to meet her that is.

“I uhh…I just wanted ta say thanks,” Katsuki grumbles and Mitsuki audibly gasps. This is very new.

Who is this man and what has he done with her son?

“You called…at three AM to say thank you? For umm..for what exactly? I don’t remember sending anything in the mail. Your birthday is still a few months away! I still have time to get a gift I’m not late like your father sugge—“

“No it ain’t…” he takes a deep breath in and out and again Mitsuki gasps. He’s trying to calm himself down. That’s also new. “It ain’t that. I just wanted to say thanks for bein’ my Ma.” He finishes the sentence in a rush.

And then it’s quiet on both ends of the line as mother and son sit in disbelief on the phone. And then Mitsuki clears her throat.

“Oh well…umm…you’re welcome. Thanks for being a dynamite kid…” she chuckles and when he doesn’t say anything she tacks on “Get it? Cuz your hero name?”

She’s gracious when he finally chuckles. “You’re such a dork Ma,” he says through a tired whispered laugh.

“If I’m a dork, then so are you. That’s how genetics work,” she fires back.

It’s quiet again before she swallows a lump in her throat and plucks up the courage to ask him.

“Where did this come from Katsuki?”

He sighs again, the bed creaks again and this time the snoring is louder in Mitsuki’s ear. He must’ve moved closer to the sleeping person.

“Just…I got someone…someone who’s really fucking good and I got lucky when she chose me but uhh…tonight she told me somethin’ and I don’t know…after she told me and I saw her…saw her kinda crumple into herself or something. Like she uhh…like she broke. You ever see a person break?” He asks.

Mitsuki nods as she listens intently, then fumbles when she realizes he can’t actually see her nodding. “Yeah uhh…loads of models during fashion week. It’s a nightmare for them. I’ve had to talk a few off the edge,” she explains with a dark chuckle.

“Yeah…well picture that but like watching it happen to Dad,” Katsuki mutters. Mitsuki’s breath catches in her throat. Just the thought of seeing her husband, the light in her life, her Masaru, broken like that makes her put a hand over her chest as it aches.

“I see,” is all she replies back.

“Anyway, after she told me I just…knew I needed ta call ya. So yeah… I just wanted ta say thanks…or whatever.”

Katsuki finishes his sentence and Mitsuki hears a soft smack of lips as he kisses the woman he’s sleeping with. She sighs, and Mitsuki can hear her murmur his name sweetly in her sleep. Her voice sounds lovely, sweet enough to melt her prickly son’s demeanor.

Mitsuki smiles to herself, and then she hears Katsuki yawn. “You should get some rest Katsuki,” she says motherly.

“Yeah yeah I will. Sorry for wakin’ ya,” he grumbles.

“Before you go…” Mitsuki says quickly.

“Yeah?”

“Bring her for dinner, next weekend. Your father will make your favorite,” she requests.

Katsuki stays quiet for a while, no doubt he’s contemplating whether he’s ready for his partner to meet his mother but then he sighs.

“Yeah…yeah ok fine. I mean…she could use some motherly love.”

I was thinking about a swap between you and your alterego.

Like, the you from the hero society, happily married to Bakugou, get unoriginally hit by a quirk, and the next day you wake up, you are in a completely different world. With dragons, fairies, shapeshifters and a medieval setting overall.

Now, you think that Kaminari might have coaxed your husband into this prank, a way too realistic prank as you venture withing what looks like a castle. And when you see your husband you almost want to swat him in the head. Because it's not funny. All your belonging are gone, and you really need to check up on your parents.

"Give me my phone"

Katsuki looks at you, utterly stupefied. A glimmer of excitement crosses his eyes that you notice right away. Is he expecting a compliment?

Might as well amuse him. It does look like he put quite the effort into this prank.

"The design is not bad, quite realistic although do you really like opulence? Doesn't matter, it looks... luxurious. Anyway, can you give me my phone? Or at least yours? I forgot to call mom last night, hit the pillow as soon as I got home."

Your palm is open and extended toward him, and your husband, as if in a trance, places his hand over yours.

"Babe... my phone." You squeeze his hand, fingers sliding between his, and you're surprised when his cheeks heat up. He does get flustered, but by such small gesture? You do it everyday...?

"Babe?"

"Yes?"

"You... you called me Babe"

Maybe he hit his head?

"That's what I call you?"

Kirishima, which suddenly manifested out of nowhere was grinning from ear to ear and looking at the two of you like a parent proud of his children.

"See?! I told you she will accept you! You worried over nothing!"

"Accepted?"

Meanwhile, back to your original time-line, Bakugou was struggling.

"Do you plan on staying like that all day?" He keeps looking at you, kneeling in front of him with the most stonecold expression. How much time has passed? Half an hour? Maybe a full hour?

"If I did something wrong just tell me! Is it because I left without telling you? I'm sorry, Ei kept blabbing about Mina's water breaking and we needed to get her to the hospital. Turns out she just spilled some water on her by accident and he panicked for nothing."

Yet, nothing, you remained as emotionless as the sun rose. Saying that Katsuki was freaking out was an understatement.

"Princess, can you please get up? Your knees are going to hurt if you keep staying like that..."

"My prince, can I know the reason why you are not dismissing me?"

"My...prince? What the fuck? Y/n if this is a prank I swear-" He noticed how you didn't move an inch. You weren't good at acting, usually bursting into a fit of laughs after a couple of minutes. But he's been struggling with your weird behavior since morning, and he couldn't stop the worry growing inside. He even called in sick because of just how concerned he was for you.

He moves in front of you, kneeling down and gripping your shoulders to get your attention.

"Has anything happened yesterday?"

"Aside from staying within my chambers avoiding you, nothing out of the ordinary."

"Okay, drop it."

"Drop... what?"

"The act! It's annoying the fuck out of me!"

Your gaze hardened. Katsuki flinched.

"Then I think it's time for your highness to consider a divorce. The royals are on your side anyway, the process won't take long if your grace presses on the matter"

"Divorce? Divorce?! Div-" no, Katsuki couldn't believe your words. This wasn't like you. You never-

Maybe yesterday something did happen. Otherwise he couldn't explain why you suddenly referred to him as a prince, calling him weird titles and acting so cold. Now even asking for a divorce.

"Sit on the sofa, and don't move. I'm calling Deku and Shinsou."

This is just the raw idea, but I might turn this into a full fic 🤷‍♀️

As You Command: Chapter 2

Series Masterlist

CW: Bakugou is a suggestive asshole, cursing, mentions of injuries, mentions of arranged marriages, there's a dead animal but it's not super descriptive.

Word count: 5893

Why hadn’t he told anyone? 

The thought echoed in your mind as you padded through the hallways of the palace, marbled tile passing quickly beneath your feet as you headed to your daily lesson. Above your head, bright tapestries brimming with oranges and yellows waved gently, the fabric twisting from the breeze filtering through the open windows. 

You dragged your glance from the floor as the walls widened, giving way to the palace’s great hall, bustling with activity. Guards, servants, and nobles alike milled around, each having their own tasks to complete in the large room. 

Billowing around you as you walked, the faded green hue of your skirt blended in well with the mural lining the wall to your left. One of the most important pieces in the entire palace, it depicted the beginning of the kingdom, green forests giving way to deep reds as it faded to the dark times, when men and gods alike warred with one another. The carnage scenes continued for a few feet, until a vibrant burst of yellow cut through the red, overtaking the pain and turmoil.

In the center of all of the yellow, stood the sun god, Toshinori, grinning despite the carnage before him. One hand rested firmly on his hip, while the other lay outstretched to a much smaller figure kneeling at his feet.

You paused then, stepping forward to run your fingers over the deep blue dragon that curled around Toshinori’s fingers, a testament to the god’s size that such a creature looked so small in his hand. Your lips curled upwards in a fond smile as you traced the ridges of the dragon’s scales, along its outstretched neck, and down to its snout that pressed against the small figure’s head. 

It was your favorite part of the mural, and you suspected the artist’s too, given how much attention had been shown to the dragon’s details. Great care had been taken in its depiction, from its raised scales glinting in a range of blue colors to the gentle way it connected with the human below, despite being a creature capable of terrible havoc.

Your people believed that the dragons had been a gift from Toshinori himself, a way to forge the kingdom and restore balance in the darkest of times. You paused, eyes flicking over to the shadowy form of the first king kneeling at Toshinori’s feet, a direct ancestor of Bakugou’s family.

As if on cue, the double doors of the hall were thrown open, dousing the mural in bright light and revealing Bakugou’s form as he pulled his hood off his head. Your stomach twisted in guilt as his gaze caught yours for a half second, the sunlight behind him illuminating the colors that now took residence on his cheek. 

It had been two days since the moment in the library when you'd reacted on instinct to the prince's usual harassment, smashing a thick book against his cheek. What you'd hoped would be a small mark had quickly blossomed into a harsh bruise beneath his eye, purples and dark yellows vying for space beneath his skin.

He turned sharply as the doors began to shut behind him, until a much taller form wrenched them open again, clearly in pursuit of the prince. A flash of bright red hair alerted you to his identity, and a fond warmth filled your chest.

As the prince’s personal guard, it had been strange to see the Bakugou without Kirishima by his side, the latter having been gone with a diplomatic envoy for the past week. You were glad to see the pair together again, even if Bakugou seemed less than pleased with the extra company.

You dampened your smile as you turned to sit yourself at the wooden table nearby. Crossing one leg over the other as you settled into your seat, you watched the large man jog to catch up to the prince who seemed determined to lose his friend. It was clear that Kirishima must have just recently returned, his usual silver armor traded in for a much more casual leather vest and striped cowl.

The blonde was stopped in his tracks finally by Kirishima’s hand landing on his shoulder and your gut twisted as the redhead cut in front of him and gripped the blonde’s chin to tilt his face into the light, eyes zeroed in on his cheek. His brows lowered in concern as he spoke sharply.

Of course. As Bakugou’s personal protector, he would want to know what happened, and worse, who had dared to strike the prince. 

You ran your hand along the wooden table in front of you, pads of your fingers catching on the various dents and chips lining the wood paneling. How many times had you sat at this table throughout your life, studying to be the best advisor you could possibly be for the kingdom,  and yet, never were you as nervous as this moment, heart ready to crash its way through your ribcage as you watched the scene across the great hall.

Thus far, Bakugou hadn't sought revenge or punishment (something you were still highly suspicious of),  but if he was going to tell anyone what had happened, it would be his closest friend. 

Kirishima's brow furrowed once more as Bakugou smacked his hand away from his face, shoving the redhead as he shook his head. His gaze glanced up mid-rant, vermillion eyes catching yours before he tore them away, turning his shoulder to block your view of his mouth. 

It was a deliberate move, you realized, frustration rolling through you that you wouldn't be able to eavesdrop by watching their mouths move. Kirishima was no help, his lips pressed into a thin line that offered you no information other than the fact that he wasn't happy with whatever Bakugou was saying.

"When I requested that all my teaching be done in the great hall, my intent was for you to get better at focusing around distractions, not worse."

You startled at the voice of your teacher behind you as he took his seat, and you dipped your head respectfully in greeting. 

"My apologies, Lord Hakamada, I was just.." you trailed away then, unwilling to admit you'd been watching Bakugou’s exchange so intently. You turned to the older man, smiling sheepishly as you offered up an excuse. "I was lost in my thoughts, my lord, that's all."

He took a moment to study you, leaning back in his seat as his hand rubbed absently over the scar cutting across his cheek. It was a scar you saw almost daily, a deep jagged line cutting clean through his otherwise handsome features, and you felt a familiar sadness that you would never truly know what kind of hardships the man had endured. 

It had to be more than most, you assumed, given his past. It was pure luck that he had ended up as a teacher to both you and Bakugou. Your earliest memories were of him at the queen's side as her personal guard, until an ambush cut his fighting days short and permanently injured his lung. 

He'd still been healing in the days of Bakugou's worst rebelliousness, where the young prince had scared off one too many tutors with his attitude and pranks. That is, until the lord had volunteered to teach the two of you until a replacement could be found.

But, as fate would have it, he had turned out to be the perfect mentor for you both-  firm enough to take Bakugou's brashness in stride, and well-versed in the world enough to teach you both all you needed for your respective roles, despite the fact that he often claimed the two of you were more likely to send him to an early grave than any battle.

He’d been the one to step up when your father had fallen ill, so that you’d have more time to learn before filling in as the royal advisor, an action that would make you forever indebted to the older man, no matter how much he denied it. 

"I will admit. It must have been a good strike." 

Lord Hakamada's voice cut through your musings, and you focused your gaze back on him once again, opening your mouth to respond when a heavy weight settled into the seat next to you. 

"What was?" Bakugou interrupted, leaning back in his chair to prop his boots onto the table as you wrinkled your nose at his manners. He flashed you a grin, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, turning to face the lord as he spoke. 

“The blemish currently taking up half your face, my prince. One can’t help but wonder what could have caught you so off guard,” he mused, resting his cheek on his fist as Bakugou slunk further in his seat, avoiding the older man’s gaze.

“Did some poor soldier you were training with manage to catch you with a shield? Seems unlike you to allow someone that close without disarming them though. Were you distracted?” he pressed, clearly fighting back a smile as the blonde glowered at him. “Or perhaps, while flying, a low hanging branch managed to get past your acute spacial awareness and-” 

"Are you going to teach us, or are we going to gossip about my bruise? 'cause I'd much rather be with Drékrir than here-'' Bakugou snapped, making a move to stand, his boots thunking against the floor.

Lord Hakamada chuckled, and Bakugou quieted instantly as your teacher began to speak again, this time recounting the most current news on the kingdoms to the North and South. You let your gaze wander once more as Bakugou grumbled under his breath, replacing his feet on the table as he drew his knife, using it to dig at the dirt beneath his nails. You took in the worn leather on the soles of Bakugou's feet, up along the intricate pattern sewn into his pants, and the way the muscles along his stomach rolled and gathered due to his position before you paused at the sight of the blade strapped to his hip. 

You'd never fail to recognize his weapon, the handle inlaid with dark metal that mimicked scales. From the way it was positioned, you could just barely make out the outstretched dragon wings that were carved into the sword's crossguard, a bright red to match the color of his dragon. The sword had been designed by Bakugou himself, and the one month it took him to have it prepared and made was the most peaceful four weeks of your life, the blonde often too busy with his notes and designs to have time for harassing you.

His palm landed on the hilt absently, and you lifted your gaze. You winced internally when met with the sight of the bruise currently residing on his face, and a pang of guilt coursed through you. 

You truly hadn't meant to strike him that hard. Or at all, really. As if he felt your gaze on him, his head tilted towards you the moment your teacher had turned his back, vermillion eyes lazily raking along your form.

He made a point to lick along his bottom lip, over the scar that he received when you were both still children, before he flashed you a grin far more predatory than friendly. The action, though simple, was enough to make you huff and shift in your seat as you quickly broke eye contact, irritation flaring as he let out a snort of amusement. 

'...I'll have to settle down and start producing heirs.. I think it's only fair you help me practice...' 

The words that prompted the smack in the first place crept back into your head, and suddenly, you felt far less guilty than you did a few moments ago. 

You turned your attention back to Lord Hakamada, opting to ignore the blonde beside you in favor of your education, and managed to catch the final part of his updates. "... which means that the succession to the throne in the North is still on shaky ground." 

Your eyes widened in surprise, suddenly sure you'd missed something important as your teacher looked down at you expectantly, a brow raised. 

You glanced away in embarrassment, completely unprepared to offer any opinions, and mentally kicked yourself for once again letting Bakugou get you into trouble. Lord Hakamada sighed wearily, and you snuck a peek to see him shift his attention down Bakugou expectantly, the blonde shrugging in response. 

"Tch. Why do I need to care about the succession in the North? The gods have made it clear who the king will be here." he grinned, practically beaming with pride. 

"The king may find he is going to have a difficult time finding a wife if he can't figure out what's going on in the world outside of his kingdom." Lord Hakamada informed him dryly, a single brow raised. Bakugou's expression soured immediately and you didn’t bother to hide the huff of amusement that fell from your lips at the sight. 

His gaze shot over to you as his eyes narrowed and you smiled sweetly back, feigning innocence until his fingers rose to skate over his cheek in a casual reminder. Your smile fell immediately as you averted your gaze to your hands in your lap, fisting at the material of your gown. 

"Gods help me.” Lord Hakamada rasped, rubbing his eyes in response to the two of you. “Since it seems that the both of you are elsewhere today, I'm postponing our lessons for a review. A pity, given I would much rather be talking about the Great Dragons," he sighed. Bakugou sat up straighter in his chair, eyes lit with interest at the mention of the previous king's mounts. 

"Wait, I-" He began in protest, easily ignored by the older man as he spoke over him.

"The treaties we hold to the South and North were written and signed only a hundred years ago, as a way to protect each way of life from the bandits and marauders that plagued the three kingdoms, treaties that were suggested by your ancestors. " he nodded to Bakugou in acknowledgment, paying no mind to the younger man's sulking or the glare he was offered up as he continued. 

“And much like the two of you,” Lord Hakamada sighed deeply, as if teaching the kingdom’s future was more draining than guarding the queen. “This peace is..?” He looked pointedly at you, and you replied immediately, these specific teachings engraved in your skull at this point. 

“Young,” you replied softly, earning a nod of approval from your teacher as he continued his path around the table. 

“And?” He probed deeper, glancing down at Bakugou as he passed him. 

The prince rolled his eyes, gaze dropping to pick at his cuticle as he groaned. “Bored out of its mind?” He suggested, the faux smile on his face doing nothing to soften the smack that Lord Hakamada landed on the backside of his head as he passed. 

Bakugou yelped, grumbling under his breath as he dropped his feet back to the floor, rubbing at the back of his head. 

“Fragile, my lord, was the correct response,” Lord Hakamada supplied seamlessly as he rounded to the front of the table once more and braced his hands on it.

“However, I have faith that the both of you will do all that you can to help strengthen these bonds when the time comes. Whether you’ll do that as a team or separately still remains to be seen,” He finished dryly, brow raised as Bakugou rolled his eyes. 

“Speaking of teams, Bakugou, your mother asked me to speak to you.” 

Bakugou visibly stiffened beside you, his entire demeanor changing with just one sentence. Lord Hakamada paused for a moment, allowing the prince a chance to speak if he wanted to. For once in his life, though, Bakugou remained silent, stiffly staring at the older blonde across from him.

“She wanted me to remind you that at 24 years old, you need to be looking for a wife, or at the very least, a queen for the kingdom you’ll soon inherit.” You grimaced at the tense change in conversation, and wondered how annoyed your mentor would be if you simply slipped away, able to escape this topic when the prince could not. 

“You can tell that hag I’m gonna sire a bastard with the next woman I meet if she doesn’t get off my ass about gettin’ married,” Bakugou growled out from between gritted teeth and you swiveled to look at him sharply. 

“Bakugou, you can’t say that!” You hissed, and his gaze turned on you angrily. 

“Why? That’s what this is all really about, right?” he sneered, arms crossed. “Besides, why the hell should you care who I fuck?”

“Because I’m your advisor, and like it or not, whoever you knock up is someone I have to deal with as well,” you snapped back. 

Bakugou let out a sharp laugh, arms uncrossing as he stood. “Yeah, right. Maybe you’re so invested in my love life because you don’t have one.” he accused, his words cutting deeper than you’d expected. 

You must have let it show, because his angry red gaze softened slightly as you turned your face from him, jaw set as Lord Hakamada intervened. “Bakugou, that’s enough. Your quarrel is with your mother and her expectations, not your staff. Besides, it seems there’s more than one family interested in adding her to it,” he admitted, tilting his chin in your direction, and both you and Bakugou looked at your mentor in surprise. 

“There have been offers for my hand?” You asked incredulously as Bakugou scoffed, muttering under his breath and Lord Hakamada gave you a small nod, his gaze flickering to the prince. 

“But, that’s something for the Queen and King to speak to you about, not me,” he sighed, standing with a groan. “Now. The two of you have managed to wear down my patience for the day, so I’m cutting this lesson short. In return, both of you should expect an examination on inter-kingdom relations the next time we meet.” he warned.

You stood, dipping your head in thanks to Lord Hakamada before taking your leave, avoiding Bakugou’s gaze as you brushed past him. 

You weaved easily through the crowd in the great hall, and down one of the side corridors, mentally rearranging your day with your new-found time. Heavy footsteps echoed your own, and a moment later, Bakugou’s shadow fell over you as he walked alongside you, red cape brushing against the back of your hand. 

“What’re you rushing off to do?” he probed, and you set your jaw, pride still wounded from his earlier comment about your love life. It shouldn’t have stung as much as it did, but you couldn’t help the sour feeling it had left you with. 

“You stink of dragon.” you muttered back, and he paused, lifting his cape to sniff at it before he shrugged, grinning as he easily caught up to you once more. 

“Y’know, most of the women I keep company with like the smell of dragon,” he leered, shoulder bumping against yours as if he was sharing some dirty secret with you. 

You spared him a half-hearted glare, already tired of his antics. “Well, most of the women you keep company with have bad taste,” you pointed out, and he frowned, straightening up again. 

He fell quiet, and your shoulders sagged in relief until a moment later when he spoke again.

“So, any clue who’s asking for your hand?” 

You answered him with silence, partially because you were tired of his presence but more so because you didn’t have an answer for him. You knew it was about time that marriage offers would be coming in, but without your father or mother alive to receive them, you hadn’t given it much thought. But it made sense for the king and queen to take over. They had promised your father that they’d ensure your future when he passed, after all. 

“I bet they’re old. Gods, it’s probably one of the houses like the Torinos. I’m willing to bet it’s one of those ugly fucks,” Bakugou laughed, and you frowned deeper, jaw clenched as he taunted you. “Or maybe it’s one of the soldiers, think one of them could have taken a liking to you?” he snickered. Despite your growing annoyance, you stayed silent, staring straight ahead.

“Oi, I’m talking to you, wildcat.” His fingers wrapped around a strand of your hair and pulled, hard enough to make your scalp sting. You whirled on him, nearly bumping into his bare chest with your sudden movement. 

“Do you take a special joy in torturing me, Bakugou?” you snapped, glaring up at the blonde. “And stop calling me that, you know I hate it.” He’d taken to calling you wildcat when you were children and he’d first realized how much he delighted in making you angry, comparing you to the stray cats that lounged around the palace grounds.

He grinned down at you, clearly pleased with your attention. Just like a fucking child. You thought crossly to yourself.  “But it suits you so well. All hisses and puffed up when you’re mad,” he hummed, fingers reaching for a strand of your hair again. 

You stepped back out of his reach, arms crossed. “I mean it, Bakugou, leave me be,” you warned, and he mimicked your pose, brow raised in challenge. 

“Or what, wildcat?” he pressed and you shot him a withering glare as you searched for a good response, eyes landing on his cheek.

“Or maybe I'll hit you again.” you immediately regretted the threat as soon as it tumbled from your mouth as his expression changed. His smirk dropped for half a second, and then he was closing the distance, canines flashing as he grinned down at you. 

“Go ahead, I won’t cover for you again,” he invited, leaning down and tapping at his cheek to show you where you could hit him. 

You shrunk back, guilt pooling at your stomach as you got a closer look at the bruise. Without thinking, you raised your hand, fingers smoothing over the angry skin as you chewed your bottom lip. His eyes widened in surprise, searching your face as you gathered your voice. 

“Why are you covering for me?” you asked softly, and he straightened quickly, easily pulling away from your touch as he snorted. 

“I don’t have to answer that,” he huffed, turning on his heel to leave the way you’d come. You stared after him in shock, irritation at his sudden mood change fueling your feet as you hurried after him. 

“Considering my future is in your hands,” you hissed, almost jogging to keep up with his quick pace, “I think you owe me an explanation.” 

He muttered under his breath, glancing at you in irritation as he took a sudden turn and you scrambled to follow. For once, his silence was not what you wanted, and you crossed your arms as you searched for a way to get him to talk. 

“You’re being ridiculous, Bakugou. I’m not leaving you be until you tell me why you haven’t sold me out.” you declared, and he stopped suddenly, staring at you incredulously. 

“Oh, I’m being ridiculous. What are you, thirteen?” he snapped, hands on his hips. You smiled sweetly up at him, gratification warming your chest. 

“You can’t just avoid me, my prince,” you cooed smugly. 

He glared down at you, jaw set before he leaned down suddenly, a sly smile melting over his features. Your cheeks heated as his breath fanned over your face, entirely too close to be appropriate as he spoke lowly. 

“Watch me, wildcat.” He took off, boots thudding down the hall as you gave chase, cursing yourself for wearing a skirt and cursing him for his long strides. He darted down a thinner hallway, and you prayed no servants would be coming in the opposite direction as you followed him. 

You sped up as he reached the end, sure that he’d just dart out the door and that you’d definitely lose him once he was outside the palace. But he must have thought you were farther than you were, stopping short and turning with a smug grin, one hand on the wooden door to open it. 

His eyes widened in surprise as you tried to stop, feet tangling in your skirt and sending you barreling into the blonde’s chest. The open door provided no stop to the momentum as he tumbled backwards, arms closing around your body in an attempt to stabilize himself.

He cleared the dirt path leading away from the door as his back hit the grass, taking you with him as he rolled. Sunlight warmed your skin and grass dampened your clothes as you shrieked, sure that he’d crush you by the time you stopped tumbling. 

He let out a grunt when his back hit the grass and you landed on top of him, both panting heavily as you dragged your gaze to meet his. Wide eyes met your own as you were suddenly aware of his hands splayed across your hips, of his thigh wedged between your own. Ruby eyes stared back at you, and you opened your mouth to apologize when a tiny blade of grass drooped from the blonde's hair, its tip resting between his eyes perfectly. You couldn’t help the small giggle that bubbled up in your chest at the sight, fueled by his chest rising below you as he tried to contain his own laughter. 

Soon, you were both erupting into giggles, only encouraged when one of his hands left your hips to tug a stick from your hair. You couldn’t help it after that, the past situation was just so ridiculous. You were both grown adults, a prince and his advisor at that, and here you were chasing each other down the palace halls, and rolling down hills.

His laughter subsided before yours did as he watched you, a soft smile gracing his features. He made no move to stand, only shifting beneath you, his hands warm on your waist. Your gaze met his and for a split second, you’re very aware of an uncomfortable flutter in your stomach. 

“Y’know, if you wanted to be on top of me so bad, all you had to do was ask,” he grinned. The flutter died out as you made a sound of disgust, shame washing over you at the realization of how improper you must look. His hands were suddenly uncomfortably warm on your hips and you shoved them off as you stood, hands flat on his chest as you pushed. 

He let out a grunt as you stood, brushing grass and dirt off your clothes as you glared down at him. “I should’ve known you’d do something like this,” you accused, and he sat up sharply, elbows resting on his knees. 

“I didn’t do anything, you’re the one that barreled into me and knocked us down. I was going to use the path,” he snapped back, pointing up the hill and you followed his finger, if only to hide the embarrassment on your face. 

“Still,” he grunted, rising to his feet. “This is a faster way to the dragons, so I guess I should thank you,” he muttered, already stomping away from you as you turned to look at him. 

“I’m not done talking to you!” you called, and he waved a hand in dismissal, boots flattening the grass beneath his feet as he disappeared into the treeline. You chased after him, muttering curses under your breath as you followed him into the trees. 

Shortly after, you broke into the clearing, sun blinding you momentarily as you squinted, blinking until your eyes adjusted. When they did, you sucked in a sharp breath, greeted by the sight of Bakugou’s massive dragon in the clearing ahead, his red scales glinting in the sun. 

Drékrir was large for a dragon of his age, but even without his sheer size, he was intimidating. Hard plates ran along the expanse of his snout, horns jutting proudly from his jaw and the top of his skull. 

At the sight of you and Bakugou, his head lifted, green eyes dilated as he watched you both. He lay stretched out, clearly enjoying the summer sun, a carcass pinned beneath his clawed foot.

Bakugou whistled lowly, and the great dragon rumbled back in response, muscles relaxing once more as he returned to his meal, long tongue dragging over the pelt of whatever poor animal he’d caught.

You shook yourself, stepping in Bakugou’s footsteps as you followed far slower. Bakugou turned to glance at you over his shoulder, grinning at your sudden quiet, and you huffed, your strides quickening as you came back within speaking distance.

Bakugou’s head tilted towards his dragon as it lifted its head lazily again, eyeing the two of you as you came closer. “You know, you can’t just fly away from all your problems,” you pointed out, crossing your arms over your chest, still trying to calm your pounding heart.

“I can fly away from this one.” he hummed in response, walking backwards towards his dragon. Drékrir lazily swept his tongue over the boar he held beneath his claws, a low rumble rising from deep in his throat, and for a moment, Bakugou’s cheeks flushed. 

“This wouldn’t even be a problem if you would just grow up and tell me what you’re trying to get by covering for me.” You pointed out, and his gaze darted to you for a moment before back to Drékrir, his mouth opening and shutting quickly as you continued. “Really, Bakugou, this is ridiculously immature, even for-” 

“Enough! I can’t juggle two conversations at once!” Bakugou threw his hands up in frustration, a groan erupting from his mouth as he looked between you and Drékrir in annoyance. You flushed in embarrassment, momentarily forgetting that the bond they had allowed the two to communicate within their minds, Drékrir huffing at his rider’s outburst.

You quieted as he glared at his mount, watching the blonde’s face occasionally twitch with different emotions. It was fascinating, you had to admit it, the large dragon seeming to continue the conversation without needing to vocally call out to his rider.

Drékrir lifted his head suddenly, eyes staring down at you as he let out a quiet chuff, the warm gust of air from his maw rustling your clothes. Your gaze met his, and you instinctively wanted to look away, acutely aware that you were probably nothing more than a nuisance to the large creature at this moment.

Bakugou stepped forward then, and Drekrir’s attention swiveled to his rider, eyes closing as his hand pressed against his snout. Despite the current argument you were having with the blonde, you smiled at the gentle interaction, at the way both volatile individuals seemed to find peace with each other. 

Bakugou’s gaze flickered to you once more and he huffed in irritation. “You’re still here?” 

Your smile disappeared, replaced by a scowl as the prince returned his attention to Drekrir as the large creature reached once more for his kill, the gentle nosing he gave Bakugou enough to make the blonde stumble. “Didn’t you just come back from a flight?” you shot back, and Drekrir paused in his pursuit to chuff again, as if he was laughing. 

Bakugou’s hands were firm, shoving the large creature until the red dragon shook his head with a growl and began gathering his limbs beneath him. “Gods, you stalkin’ me or something? I’m going on a fuckin’ hunt.” 

“Well, maybe I’ll join you,” you threatened, and Bakugou paused mid-step, one hand wrapped around the dragon’s horn as he hung off him, glowering at you. 

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed, grunting as he hoisted himself up on his dragon’s neck, arms outstretched for balance as he walked down the red dragon’s spine.  “You and what mount? A Kharn? You and I both know you wouldn’t be able to keep up.” 

You frowned at that, knowing he was right. The horse-like creatures most of the people in and around the palace rode were fast, and great for hunting with their acute sense of smell and tough paws, but nothing could keep up with a dragon.

He sat heavily atop his dragon’s shoulders, thighs splayed out as he got comfortable, and you took a half a step back as Drékrir stood suddenly, his wings stretching out wide enough that he blocked the sun momentarily. 

You swallowed thickly, intimidated by the dragon’s large size before forcing yourself to turn your attention back to Bakugou who now grinned smugly down at you. “Y’know, on second thought, if you want to come with so badly, hop on up,” he invited, brow raised sarcastically. 

Drékrir turned to you then, large head lowering to gaze at you. You froze, eyes wide at the dragon’s clear offer, even as he tipped his horn closer to you. For a moment, you considered it. You considered taking his horn in your hand and allowing yourself to abandon all your duties for the day, beyond the palace and high in the skies, the sun warm on your skin.

“Well? I don’t have all day, wildcat,” Bakugou huffed, and you snapped out of your daydreaming at the sudden reminder of his presence.

“Some of us have duties here that we can’t run from.” you murmured as you stepped back, trying not to let disappointment bleed into your voice as Bakugou shook his head. 

“That’s your problem, right there,” he sighed, shifting to pull his hood over his head as he leaned forward in preparation for takeoff. But Drékrir remained where he was, his head still lowered to your level. You met the large creature’s gaze, both of you staring curiously at one another before Bakugou spoke again, his voice heavy with impatience. 

“Drékrir, let’s go. She’s not coming.” 

Drékrir snorted in response, withdrawing his head to stare up at the sky as he let out a rumble so low you felt it vibrate through your chest. His wings spread once more, giving you a glimpse of the vibrant orange that dotted the undersides, and Bakugou glanced down at you, calling out above the dragon’s rumbling. “Cover your eyes, wildcat, you’re gonna get blinded!” 

You stepped further back as the prince’s gaze left you, doing as you were told, but managing to peek at the sight of their takeoff from beneath your hand. Drékrir let out a roar as he rose to his hind feet, his wings stretching out far above his head. They cut downwards quickly, stirring up the dust and leaves on the ground beneath him and forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut. 

You stumbled a bit from the sheer force of the wind his wings created as he lifted off, and when you next opened your eyes, he and the prince were heading into the distance, red wings soaring smoothly. 

You watched them for a while, unable to help the jealousy that churned in your chest as they put more distance between themselves and the palace. You allowed yourself one final glance as you turned on your heel, back to the palace and the duties that awaited you inside. 

THE SHOE REPAIRMAN & HIS LOVER: A SERIES

PAIRINGS bakugou katsuki x implied fem!reader

SYNOPSIS the tale of how the shoe repairman met his lover

FROM THE WRITER hello, this is not my first series but it is my first series for bkg specifically. this started as smthg self indulgent but i ended up continuing. whether this series will actually meet a written end, i hope so bc i really like it. i hope u do too -with love, violette <3

GENRE romance

NOTES & WARNINGS no posting schedule, short chapters, quirkless!au, shoe repairman!bkg, wedding planner!reader, ideally set in a cold szn, reader is mentioned to wear strappy shoes, mentions of food & alcohol consumption, mentions of marriage & weddings, cursing, reader faintly implied to be fem! but no specific pronouns are used

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE barely there

CHAPTER TWO if the shoe fits

CHAPTER THREE next time

CHAPTER FOUR rush hour

CHAPTER FIVE the way home

CHAPTER SIX down like six-thirty

CHAPTER SEVEN easy on the heart

CHAPTER EIGHT call you (mine)

CHAPTER NINE

SERIES TAGLIST (send ask or reply to add or remove) @tittiesarenice @deneuves @wisterange @littlemochi @23meow @ephemeralninon @iwa-chan-akaashi-san @nonomesupposedto @chuugarettes

©cielcius. please refrain from copying, modifying, translating, reposting, or claiming ownership over my work in any way.

Husband for Hire (Complete)

🌸 You need to be married by the end of the year to inherit your grandfather’s land, and Bakugou needs a roof over his head. The two of you can make a fake marriage work, right?

Bakugou x Fem!Reader 🌸 Stardew Valley Crossover

Updated Tuesdays and Fridays, any times indicated are in PST

Warnings: As usual, my multi-chapter pieces usually contain angst with a happy ending. Warnings at the start of applicable chapters include but are not limited to: Angst, blood

Stardew background: In game, each season is 28 days and I modeled the passage of time off of that rather than typical months. Characters and lore from the game are included, but it should be somewhat easy to pick up on relationships/connections and whatnot.

🚜 Chapter 1 – Spring 14

🚜 Chapter 2 – Spring 15

🚜 Chapter 3 – Spring 24

🚜 Chapter 4 – Spring 28

🚜 Chapter 5 – Summer 5

🚜 Chapter 6 – Summer 11

🚜 Chapter 7 – Summer 22

🚜 Chapter 8 – Summer 28

🚜 Chapter 9 – Fall 4

🚜 Chapter 10 – Fall 6

🚜 Chapter 11 – Fall 15

🚜 Chapter 12 – Fall 23

🚜 Chapter 13 – Winter 5

🚜 Chapter 14 – Epilogue

Tag list: @boosyboo9206, @parker-natasha, @niicevibe, @bakugous-trauma, @pattys-got-cakes, @b-u-m-b-l-e , @sluttybunny-lounge, @cinnamon-n-roses, @cefni, @thewintersoldiersmetaldick, @bunseren-burner, @cloudsgathering, @kryptidkid, @l-ovey, @cherryriotcrash, @peachoasis, @beaniebanby , @fanlovedlt , @quilliamfears , @askerror87, @emerald-souldesert, @denkisclown, @chims-kookies, @hjonky, @senaraphoenix, @animeobsessed03, @theartofhotchinthesnow, @juviathewaterwomen, @lanaxians-2, @nappingwithyuuji ,

strawberry jam

cowboy(ish)! bakugou katsuki x fem! reader summary: This had to count as one of the worst days in your entire life — stuck on the side of the road in the hot sun in the middle of nowhere with your old, stupid, broken down car and no cell service. At least there was a super hot cowboy who stopped to help. contains: FLUFFF OMG JUST FLUFF AND LOVE word count: 11.6k (somebody sedate me pls) masterlist a/n: this is for the loml, @katxn15, for her birthday that was like, a month ago, BUT I FINALLY FINISHED OKAY IM SORRY IK I SUCK (but also, apologies to my followers, i still feel like this writing isn't my best work - but we're kicking writer's block's ass one day at a time) also, here's the strawberry jam recipe

This had to count as one of the worst days in your entire life — stuck on the side of the road in the hot sun in the middle of nowhere with your old, stupid, broken down car and no cell service. 

You’d just been trying to drive back home from college for spring break, but no — the universe had decided that it was too much to ask for and decided to dump you here, on the side of the backroad (because, of course, you thought that using the backroad would be quicker to avoid the usual highway traffic; and now there were no cars passing by that could help you) in the middle of some random field on a hot spring day.

You finally gave up trying to call someone — your roommate, your parents, a friend from your hometown — after about twenty minutes, when you realized that the phone stopped ringing completely and a low battery notification popped up.

Fucking hell.

Under the hot sun of the afternoon and without the AC, the car had started to reach its boiling point, leaving it unbearable to be stuck inside even if it offered the smallest amount of shade from the blinding light above. Your water bottle was all finished now too, so you were sure if you didn’t get out, you’d die of heat stroke. 

The air was sticky when you finally cracked open the driver’s door, and paired with the direct sunlight overhead you could already feel yourself turn sweaty and breathless in the heat, and yet you pushed yourself out with your phone still in hand and outstretched, trying to catch at least one minute of cell service.

For a minute you thought one bar popped up, but it was gone as soon as it came and you were left with nothing as you flung it back into the car and closed the door out of frustration. 

The stupid, fucking car just had to break down in the worst place possible, out in the middle of nowhere where no one was driving by. 

“Fuck!” You finally let out in frustration, grasping at your hair and pulling at it as the panic set in. 

You’d been sitting in your car for about thirty minutes now, and no one had driven by in all that time.

What if you were just stuck there until you died of heatstroke — okay that was an exaggeration, but at this rate you might have to be stuck on the side of the road for hours, you might even have to sleep in your car until morning.

Your back hurt just thinking about it. 

At the very least you’d be extremely dehydrated, you could already feel the energy getting sucked out of you from the sun in reverse photosynthesis — and now that you thought about it you kinda had to pee.

Scratch that, you really had to pee.

There were just miles of fields ahead and behind you, there was nowhere to go unless you wanted to just go at it right there in a bush, but there was no way you were attempting that.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” You paced around your car trying to will your bladder to stop bothering you, hoping — or praying, more like — that someone would pass by and that they could just take you to their little nearby house. 

These fields had to belong to somebody, with the wheat, or whatever it was, that was being grown in bulk, there had to be someone living out there somewhere who had a bathroom that you could use.

And after what felt like an hour of waiting under the sun (though it was only about ten minutes), your prayers were finally answered when you spotted a red, old, beat-up looking pick up truck from across the distance, and the sight was enough to propel you to start waving your arms and jump around to catch their attention.

Maybe it was a nice, old farmer who was just heading to his house nearby who’d be kind enough to let you use their bathroom and phone and to help you with your car.

And that’s who you were expecting to step out when it slowed to a stop — a nice, old, friendly dude. 

Except it wasn’t. 

Instead, you were faced with a tall, young (your age, it looked like actually), attractive guy wearing worn-out cowboy boots, faded jeans, an orange plaid shirt, and a cowboy hat with blonde strands peeking out from underneath. And not only was he not old or a farmer, he was also scowling at you like it was your fault he’d decided to stop.

That was enough for your open mouth to snap closed in an instant, and instead of explaining your situation to him and thanking him for stopping like you were planning on doing, you stood there frozen with wide eyes, watching as he stomped towards you like he was about to yell at you for something. 

You cringed away from his figure with your eyes squeezed shut in response to his expected lecture, only for them to pop open when he spoke in a soft, grumbled tone instead.

“Yer car’s broken?”

“Huh?” you blinked up at him like you’d just been squirted in the face with water.

He rolled his eyes before they rested back onto your face with that same scowl. “Is yer car broken?” he asked louder.

“Oh, yeah” you quickly turned away to point at it as you babbled dumbly. “I think it’s the engine. It’s really old so it kinda sucks now.”

“Lemme take a look,” he walked around you towards the hood of your car — and you just stood awestruck as your mind finally registered that he wasn’t about to attack you, and that he was instead looking down at the wires and stupid things in the hood of your car like any other normal, nice person would have.

Why’d he look so angry then? A super bad case of resting bitch face?

You trailed after him, watching from the sidelines as he fiddled around with stuff you didn’t understand, biting the inside of your cheek when he reached up to wipe away some sweat that was dripping down his face before he continued working.

You know, now that you thought about it, he was actually super good looking. Under the small shade from the hood of the car, you could carve out his features: red, piercing eyes, clear skin, a strong jawline. 

Your roommate would be so jealous if she found out some super hot cowboy helped you with your car. It was straight out of a romance book actually. If only you hadn’t thrown your phone back in the car out of anger, you could’ve snuck a picture of him and sent it to her when you finally got cell service. 

You could already imagine the look on her face if you were able to get a picture of this guy, all screwed up in anger and—

“Engine’s gone,” the cowboy’s voice came back, and you were back to being an idiot.

“What?” you blinked up at him.

“S’not fixable. Engine’s dead,” he responded as he shut the hood. “Yer gonna need a ride then?”

“Yeah, uh actually,” you rubbed the back of your neck that was definitely gonna be sunburned, “I kinda have to use the bathroom. Do you live nearby, or—”

“Town’s about thirty minutes away, n’ I live past that.”

“Shit,” you mumbled under your breath while turning away.

What the fuck were you supposed to do now?

“Jus’ go here,” he gestured to the blowing wheat field around you. “No one’s gonna find out.”

“Um, no,” you stopped him. “I’m not gonna do that.”

“Why? Yer too civilized for that shit?”

“I never said that—”

“Ya cityfolk have never had to piss outside before?” he challenged with a raised eyebrow.

You knew he was just trying to rile you up for some odd reason, trying to challenge you into doing something stupid and dumb just for the hell of it. And yet, and this sounded so idiotic, you felt like he was trying to guage something about you, to test some limit you had to see how far he could push you, and for some goddamn reason you were letting him push you past it.

Or maybe it was just because you had to pee really bad and were getting to the point where you really didn’t care anymore.

Either way your patience was running thin.

“I literally never said anything about any of that,” you huffed. “Stop putting words in my mouth. But fucking fine!” you raised your arms up in despair. “I’ll go piss somewhere out here. Happy now?”

The cowboy’s face twisted into surprise for a split second, but you watched it switch back into a frown as he stared boredly.

“Don’t take long. I’ve got places to be,” you could almost hear the chuckle in his voice — he really wasn’t as attractive now that he’d opened his mouth.

.

.

.

Mr. not-so-attractive-anymore cowboy didn’t even help you when you had to pull your overstuffed suitcase out of your trunk and stick it in the back of his pickup.

“A little help?” you’d looked at him with your hands on your hips after trying to hoist it onto the back of his pickup truck and failing.

“I’m the one doing you a favor,” was what he replied with before he just went and sat in the driver's seat — in response you stuck a middle finger out to his back.

It took a couple of tries, but you finally got it up and secured it — though you could feel the sweat that’d built up from you trying to lift your heavy, overpacked suitcase out in the sun and humidity. 

Damn you really wanted to kick yourself in the head for being stunned by his looks when you first saw him, his personality was actual garbage.

“Took ya long enough,” he grumbled when you swung the passenger door open, and you scoffed and rolled your eyes, making sure to close the door harsher than it needed to be in response.

You almost expected him to get angry at you for it, but at that point you didn’t care because you finally had AC. It was a sigh of relief after being stuck outside in the sweltering, afternoon sun for almost an hour, and you let yourself lean against the headrest as you finally let yourself breathe something other than the humid air outside that made you feel like you were choking on your own lungs.

The cowboy didn’t say anything after his initial comment, and you both instead drove down the road in silence as you stared out the window, watching the blur of fields and green that passed, with only the sound of the AC blasting to keep you both company.

You found yourself staring at him from the side after a while, perhaps out of boredom; and though you berated yourself once more for being so attracted to him because of how good he looked despite his personality, you couldn’t not thank him for helping you out in a dire situation.

“Thank you,” you found it in yourself to utter it somewhere besides your mind, and you noticed the slight tinge of a smile on his lips and the way his eyes slid over to you for a second.

“What was that?”

“You heard me the first time,” you groaned, resting your head in the palm of your hands while your elbow leaned on the door handle.

That elicited a small chuckle from the cowboy, and somehow you found yourself smiling in return.

“What am I supposed to do with my car?” you took advantage of the more normal mood. “I can’t just leave it on the side of the road.”

“I know someone who can deal with that in town, s’not really a problem.”

“Is there cell service there?” you instantly shot up. “I really have to tell my parents about what happened since they were expecting me to be home in the evening.”

“There’s nothin’ really in town, to be honest — most people use landlines ‘round here,” he shrugged. “Where I live’s got service though, I can bring you there.”

“...Thank you..” you found yourself choking out again. It had to be his stupidly handsome face, there was nothing else that could explain it. 

You noticed the small twitching smile on his lips again before it disappeared into his resting bitch face, but he wasn’t cocky about your thanks this time.

“S’not a big deal,” he grumbled back.

“I’m Y/N.” You decided to make the leap before the car settled back into the sound of blasting AC.

“Katsuki,” he replied without missing a beat.

At least now you knew Mr. Cowboy’s name.

“Town’s up ahead,” Katsuki spoke after a minute or so, pointing towards the small sign posted at the side of the road that read Welcome to Auburn Springs — and you watched the deserted-looking fields transform into roads and small buildings through the window as Katsuki began slowing down to adhere to the changed speed limit.

It looked straight out of those old western movies your dad was obsessed with for some reason — with small, cramped and shabby buildings lining the main road, though they all seemed to be out of use with either boarded up doors and windows or peeling signs that read CLOSED.

These used to be businesses, you quickly realized, from the couple of handpainted, faded logos that were still stuck to a couple of windows; but they all had to be shut down for some reason. Perhaps the buildings were too old?

“This is town?” you turned to Katsuki, confused. How did people get anything done?

“Old town,” he grumbled back. “Main street’s up ahead.”

You nodded before turning back out the window, taking note of Katsuki turning right at the edge of the street to where you were met with a lot of buildings with very obviously newer construction (though it was still quite old fashioned — but it wasn’t historic). 

Smaller, obviously Mom and Pop shops, lined the street — you caught a motel, a café, and a small grocery store — following the curve of the road as it went into a roundabout at what you guessed was the center of town. A towering fountain stood in the middle of the small square, a young man standing proudly in the middle of it, watching over all the stores for their protection.

Katsuki pulled past the roundabout into a small parking lot behind one of the buildings on the side, and quickly gestured for you to get out. 

“I’ll take ya to the tow shop first,” he guided you back towards the stores, and you got a better view of the small town center and the shops that lined it, the small boxes of flowers that were laid out on the sidewalk next to the streetlamps, the single stoplight at the end of the road with a blinking yellow light — you guessed a lot of people didn’t come by.

“Ya comin’?”

You hadn’t realized you’d stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to stare.

Your head snapped back to where Katsuki was standing. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”

He nodded slightly, gesturing to the shop behind him and for you to follow him in. When he opened the door to walk in, you half expected him to let the door fall closed behind him; you couldn’t really stop your eyes from widening when he held the door open for you, stunned in place until he glared at you and gestured for you to walk in.

You were immediately blasted with air again, coming from the large fan attached to the cracked ceiling, met with a small shop: an empty counter in the back, and a couple of comfy old armchairs chairs in the foreground with a round, wooden table in the middle.

“Ei!” Katsuki called out, and it startled you out of the calm silence that was present in the shop.

“One sec Katsuki I’m coming!” someone called out from somewhere in the back, maybe there was a hidden room back there.

Katsuki huffed before walking towards the counter while you followed behind him slowly and unsurely, guessing you were waiting for whoever Ei was.

“Sorry, Sorry I–” a tall, red-haired guy (who was also very attractive — was this where all the hot guys had gone?) appeared from some side door that you hadn’t noticed, pausing when he saw you standing there behind the counter as well. “...I was just eating lunch really quickly. I, uh, how can I help you ma’am?”

You opened your mouth to answer but Katsuki was already talking just as the words were forming in your head.

“Her car’s stuck on the side of the highway — the side road ya know? ‘Bout thirty minutes out of town — engine looked like it was busted.”

“Ei” stood there for a few seconds, blinking between you and Katsuki for what felt like hours before his eyes brightened and smiled at the both of you.

“That’s not a problem ma’am,” he nodded towards you. “I can grab it easily and bring it over to Sero’s across the street. He can fix it up for ya if it isn’t too messed up.”

“That would be a life saver, thank you,” you spoke before Katsuki could say anything. “How much do I owe you?”

Ei just let out a smile. “S’not a problem. Any friend of Katsuki’s is a friend of mine.”

“She’s not a friend,” you heard a pained grumble from beside you, and you rolled your eyes.

“No, I insist,” you pushed, turning back to Ei. “I can’t ask you to do something like that without paying you for it.”

Ei let out a small chuckle, with a look directed towards Katsuki that you couldn’t exactly make out, before replying. “Twen’y dollars is enough.”

You dug through the wallet that had been sitting in your back pocket, fishing out a fifty dollar bill instead and placing it on the counter.

Ei opened his mouth to ask about giving you change but you stopped him before he could speak.

“Keep it. You don’t have to charge me a heavily discounted price.”

A slow, toothy smile spread on his face once more, as he glanced back between both you and Katsuki before sliding the bill back over the counter to his side and tucking it to somewhere you couldn’t see it.

“I’ll let ya know tomorrow when I get the car over to Sero’s. Ya got a number that’s good to call?” he grabbed a notepad from his side of the counter and a pen, scribbling quickly as you rattled off your phone number.

“Great, I’ll give ya a call tomorrow ma’am,” he nodded his head slightly. 

“Oh, you don’t need to call me that,” you stopped him. It felt weird being called something that made you feel so old. “Just Y/N’s fine.”

“Good to know,” he reached his hand out towards yours over the counter, eyes sliding over towards Katsuki in a way that you didn’t notice. “I’m Eijirou, Miss Y/N.”

You shook his hand with a smile — two super attractive dudes in one day? Your roommate was gonna be mad mad that she decided not to come back with you when you’d asked. “Nice to meet you Mr. Eijirou.”

“Likewise.”

Katsuki cleared his throat, and both you and Eijirou’s handshake broke apart in time for Katsuki to come close enough to grumble in your ear that you looked like you were going to pass out.

“Go get somethin’ from the café across the other side of the fountain,” he pointed out the window. “You’ll get heatstroke otherwise.”

You could barely get yourself to register how close he was standing next to you as he practically breathed down your neck with the smell of his woody, spicy aftershave swallowing you — so you nodded quickly, waved bye to both (and the cool air from the fan) before you pressed open the door and stepped out to shield them both from the view of your flushed face. You could practically feel the heat radiating off your cheeks as you power walked across the sidewalk, trying not to think about what’d just happened in less than a minute.

“Who was she?” Eijirou gave a cheeky smile as he leaned forward on the counter once the door closed behind you. “Ya finally got yourself a girl, man?”

“No one you fuckass,” Katsuki rolled his eyes as he sneered. 

“She didn’t look like no one,” Kirishima’s smile widened.

“Jus’ found her on the side of the road and she needed help. Nothin’ more than that.”

“Yeah right Katsuki,” he let out a chuckle. “Yer not known to be the most helpful out there.”

“What’s that supposed t’mean?”

“I’ve known you since we were kids, ‘kay? Yer not exactly known to hold open doors for girls,” Eijirou rose his eyebrows in a smug look. “And I can’t blame ya. She’s pretty.”

“Whatever,” Katsuki crossed his arms over his chest as he turned away.

“Would’ya mind if I asked her out then?” Eijirou hit him with the ultimatum, a growing smirk on his face as he watched Katsuki’s shoulders tense in anger. “I already got her number too, I could ask her tomorrow when I call ‘bout her car. Maybe we could go down to the bar and get a couple drinks, I’ll invite her back—”

“Fine, ya little shit.” Katsuki whirled back around with a scowl imprinted into his features. That’s the reaction he was looking for. “She’s pretty or whatever, ‘kay? I just stopped ‘cause I saw her jumpin’ on the side of the road like a lunatic. But that doesn’t mean anythin’. I don’t like her or nothin’.”

“I never said anything about likin’ her,” Eijirou chuckled. “S’not a bad thing, man. It’s good that yer letting yerself out a lil’. And she seems like a nice person to do that with.”

“Gimme that fifty back,” Katsuki opened his palm over the counter. “Put it on my tab instead.”

Eijirou stuck it in his palm without hesitation, a small, knowing smirk resting over his face as he watched Katsuki stick into his back pocket.

Katsuki liked you.

.

.

.

As it turned out, Katsuki had gone to the city for a farmer’s market (as he did every Sunday and Tuesday), which meant he had to go to that little grocery store you’d noticed to sell off the couple extra crates of fruit he had sitting in the back of the truck. Even though you tried to tell him that you could help him carry at least one as thanks for giving you a ride, he told you that your “noodle arms” weren’t gonna be of any help to him, and carried all of them across the street while telling you to stay by the pickup truck with your iced tea.

It was winding down towards the evening, you realized, as you watched the wispy clouds overhead take their slow strides across the blue sky; the sun was definitely leaning towards the western hemisphere of the sky now, towards a string of mountains that laid in the distance.

Out of plain curiosity, you slipped your phone out of your pocket to see if there was any cell service available. Even a little bit would’ve been fine at that point, you just had to tell your parents what happened and that your trip was probably canceled.

But, as Katsuki had said, there was nothing, not even a single bar, and you only had about five percent of battery left. Great.

You shoved it back into your pocket without another thought, sipping from your iced tea while shielding your eyes from the sun. 

“If ya drink like that yer gonna have to piss again.”

Mr. Cowboy Katsuki was back.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes and flipped him off before walking towards the passenger’s side.

He only barked out a laugh that startled you, leaving him in a lopsided smile that you couldn’t exactly understand — but you were both on the road before you knew it, passing by a couple of different farms that he pointed out because you couldn’t tell the difference between wheat and barley. 

It wasn’t long until he pointed out that they’d passed his property line, and you watched the wheat fields turn into corn as Katsuki turned into a smaller, winding road up to a large house you could see from the distance.

“That’s the main house,” Katsuki knew to explain from your curious stare. “I don’t live there. It’s where my boss lives.”

“Oh. What’s your job then?”

“I’m a ranch hand, I help out with stuff ‘round the property. Takin’ of horses and cows n’ shit.”

Well that explained the cowboy outfit.

“I thought you said you were taking me to where you lived.”

“I do live here. I don’t live there, though,” he gestured towards the house specifically. “There’re smaller cabins scattered around the property — two others live on site too.”

“Ranch hands, you mean?”

He grumbled in agreement, and you nodded as you watched the house grow larger and larger until he’d parked the truck right in the middle of the driveway.

You followed him out of the car as he marched straight into the house as if he owned the place, taking hesitant steps until you closed the front door behind you to observe the cozy space that’d been made; a beautiful stone fireplace was what you noticed when you first walked in, as well as the two tufted, brown leather couches with, what looked like, a hand-quilted blanket tossed over the side, and a wooden coffee table in the center to complete the living room.

It made you want to curl up with a book and a cup of coffee just from the sight of it, but you were in some random person’s house you had to remind yourself as you followed where you saw Katsuki disappear to the kitchen (which was small, quaint — with a pretty bowl of fruit on the counter and a dark stained dining table already set with four places of silverware) and the back door where you could see him standing through the window talking to someone.

You quickly made your way outside, where Katsuki was talking to an older man with a large crate in his hands; he was thinned and tall, with blonde hair that stuck out from under the straw hat he was wearing and bright, cheerful blue eyes — with a small smile peeking from his lips when he noticed that you were standing there.

What did Katsuki say to him?

“Sorry to hear about yer car,” he approached you, a gentle tone in his voice. “I do hope it can be fixed tomorrow so you can go home. In the meantime, why don’t you stay in the guest bedroom upstairs?”

“Are you sure?” you blinked. You hadn’t even said anything to the dude and he was already offering to let you stay the night? “I don’t want to be any trouble, I mean there was a motel in town I could just stay–”

“Ya can’t even drive there by yerself,” Bakugou interrupted. “And I’m sure as hell not driving ya there.”

“It would be no trouble,” the man said as he walked up onto the porch. “I have more than enough food ready and the guest room’s always prepared.”

“Uh, then yes. Thank you, Mr…”

“Toshinori,” he nodded as he passed you to step inside. “Just Toshinori, no need for honorifics.”

“Thank you, Toshinori.”

“Of course. Katsuki, get ‘er suitcase outta the trunk, will ya? And show her where the guest bedroom is,” Toshinori said before disappearing into the kitchen, and you inwardly smirked when Katsuki grumbled under his breath about having to lug your heavy suitcase up the stairs yet showed you back through the house and up the stairs without saying anything to Toshinori.

He just pointed towards the room from across the hall, told you the bathroom was right across from it, and trudged back down the stairs with his heavy boot fall to go get your suitcase.

You wandered into the room, taking in the simple wooden bed frame and linen sheets, the matching dresser and nightstand set as well as the lacy curtains that were tied to the edges of the window to let the sun in.

It was pretty and pleasing and simple, and you sat down on the bed without thinking about it to grab your phone from its spot in your back pocket, only to be greeted by a (what seemed like) a thousand notifications from your parents and your roommate — which meant you’d finally gotten some cell service.

You called your mom first, of course — she would’ve killed you if you hadn’t — and she was almost crying when you told her that you were okay and that the car had just decided to be a piece of shit and break down in the worst place possible. She seemed hesitant to hang up once you’d finished, but she ran out of things to tell you about and finally had to let you go after about two minutes.

Your roommate though, you savored that conversation.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she screamed. “You just happen to be stuck where all the hot people are and you can’t even send me a picture of one of them?”

“It was only like, two hot guys but whatever.”

“Okay, okay, okay — what about the cowboy though? You said he was an asshole but he was hella good looking. Like how good looking, describe him.”

“Um, well he’s blonde, and tall,” you bit the inside of your cheek. “Super attractive. Probably toned too, I mean he does work on a farm all day, I’m sure he does a lot of heavy lifting.”

“Anything else?” she pressed. “Give me specifics here.”

“His eyes are red, like a really pretty, vibrant red — kinda like a strawberry, sorta. And he’s always kinda frowning. That’s why I was scared of him when I first saw him! I thought he was gonna come and yell at me, I swear–”

You were interrupted by knocking, where you whirled around to find Katsuki standing at your open door with your suitcase, his (what you guessed, at this point you only knew him for like, two hours) usual frown on his face but with a new look you hadn’t seen in his eyes.

Shit. He fucking heard me, right?

“Dinner’s in twen’y,” was all he said before he left — and you let out a sigh of relief in return at the lack of reaction.

By the time you’d washed your face and gotten downstairs, the table had already been joined by two other guys, who, you guessed, were the other ranch hands Katsuki was talking about earlier, along with an additional place setting at the end of the table. One of the guys was covered in freckles and had green hair, and the other had dual-colored red and white hair. Izuku, who you learned was the green-haired guy, asked you a million questions about college: what you majored in, what it was like living in the city, how it was to attend classes everyday — everything he could probably think about; in the meantime Shoto, Mr. red and white hair, sat quietly and nodded along to whatever Izuku said. 

Surprisingly, Katsuki did the same as Shoto did, with the occasional grunt to something or a one-word answer when Toshinori told him about something that had to be done the next day, and it was surprising to see him act un-snarky compared to how he’d been earlier; you kinda wanted to kick him under the table just to see what he would do in response, but you didn’t want to be rude, especially not when his boss was nice enough to let you stay the night without even meeting you — for all he knew, you might rob the place and sneak away when no one was awake.

And honestly, it was nice to sit down and eat at a dinner table, it felt like you were at home when you were in highschool, where your mom did that thing where she made everyone go around the table and talk about one thing interesting they learned that day; it was so different from the nights you’d spent cooped up in the quiet library with a simple sandwich so you could get through your essay in time.

You were quick to offer help in cleaning up (since you’d been upstairs pacing around your room trying to convince yourself that Katsuki, in fact, hadn’t heard what you’d said about him and the weird glint in his eye was made up in your mind) since you’d been upstairs when they were setting the table, stacking all the plates silverware and bringing them over to the sink where Katsuki was already washing his.

“Just put ‘em down, I’ll do ‘em,” he pointed to the counter space next to the sink.

“I can help though,” you crossed your arms over your chest. He hadn’t even let you carry one crate when you were in town — he had to at least let you help here.

“Clean up the lefto’ers,” he rolled his eyes before going back to scrubbing a plate. “There’s smaller containers in that cabinet next to the fridge. Put ‘em in there and bring me the bigger dishes.”

“Aye Aye Captain.”

You heard him grumble under his breath and you laughed as you stuffed leftover carrots into a smaller tupperware container.

It was kinda funny, actually, how your perception of him had changed in the past couple hours: you’d gone from being scared of him, to thinking he was attractive, then finding out he was an asshole, and now you were stuck in this weird limbo of being friendly and awkward with him.

“Do you have a phone charger I could borrow?” you asked as you placed the larger dishes next to the sink. “My phone is about to die and I forgot to bring one.”

“No.”

“I won’t lose it or break it if that's what you’re thinking,” you stood next to him as finished up the dishes.

“Can’t,” was all he said as he used a towel to dry his hands.

“Why not?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t have one.”

That made you pause for a second, stuck in place as you watched him shuffle to the other side of the kitchen to do something.

“What do you mean you don’t have one?”

“I don’t have one,” he shrugged.

“What do you use to charge your phone then?”

“I have one but it won’t work on yers.”

“Why? What phone do you have?”

And damn, were you shocked when he pulled an old flip phone out of his back pocket to show you.

“Are you serious?” you blinked between him and the phone in his hand, watching as the scowl on his face deepened — and that was about all you could take before you burst into laughter. “How do you do anything on it? Can you even text on it or what?”

“Oh shaddup,” he grumbled as he shoved it into his back pocket, watching as you could barely hold yourself up as you laughed about him being a grandpa and the phone being from the 1990s.

The both of you’d actually forgotten that everyone else was still in the kitchen with you — until Midoriya told you that he had a phone charger you could borrow, leaving you and Katsuki standing there and staring at the rest of the kitchen with wide eyes until you could finally muster out a “yes” and a “thank you”.

Waking up the next morning without the sound of your phone alarm screaming at you to get up so you could lug yourself to class was refreshing, to say the least. It was almost strange to wake up naturally, to the sunlight streaming in through the window and the view of the green fields outside. 

It was probably the most relaxed you’d felt in a while.

In fact you were so relaxed, that you stumbled down the stairs after just crawling out of bed in need of some coffee since you remembered that you’d noticed one when you were in the kitchen yesterday. It was already late morning, so you expected that everyone else would be out doing whatever their jobs were anyways, it wouldn’t matter what you looked like.

The wooden floors creaked underfoot as you stepped into the kitchen, beelining straight to the coffee pot that sat on the counter next to the fridge — a smile perking up when you realized there was already coffee in it, and it was still a good temperature.

But you almost spilled coffee all over yourself when someone cleared their throat, and you whirled around to find Katsuki sitting at the kitchen table with a mug in hand; a stupid smirk climbing up his face as he realized he’d scared you.

“Did sleeping beauty finally wake up?” he sipped his coffee, looking up at you through his eyebrows.

You only rolled your eyes as you took a sip from your own mug, though you pulled away after a second because it was way too bitter.

“Do you guys have any creamer or something?”

“Fridge,” he grumbled — eyes following as you opened it and grabbed a small glass container, pouring it into your coffee and putting it back before stirring it with a spoon and coming to sit at the table.

“What time do you wake up?” you asked after a moment. “I’m guessing you didn’t just get up and come here to grab coffee.”

“Around six,” he shrugged. “We try to do more work in the mornings so it’s not too hot.”

You just nodded as you went back to sipping on your coffee, watching from the windows as the fields swayed in response to the wind. Life seemed to move so much slower out here, which was so strange compared to the busy lifestyle you were used to.

And what felt even stranger was Katsuki sitting next to you, sipping on his coffee, without a care in the world — strangely domestic, even. You could find yourself imagining your future like this, in a small little kitchen being served pancakes and coffee as you stared out to the pretty, lush fields outside.

But, why were you thinking about this with Katsuki?

You turned to look at him discreetly, watching his throat move slowly as he sipped on his coffee, the steam still rising from the cup. 

How was he able to drink it when it was so hot? Was he secretly burning his tongue and keeping quiet about it?

“Ei–Eijirou call you yet?” Katsuki (speak of the devil) asked suddenly, his voice harder and colder, a contrast to what it had been when he’d first called you out for sleeping in.

“I don’t think so,” you shrugged, sitting up straighter. “I haven’t checked my phone yet. But I’m pretty sure his phone call would’ve woken me up.”

“Let me know what happens,” he said as he pushed himself up from the table. “I can drive ya into town if it gets fixed.”

“I will,” was all you could say before he was already out on the porch, back door slamming behind him as you were left staring at the rest of the empty kitchen.

The sudden change in his behavior threw you off, leaving you with whiplash as you took another small sip of your coffee. You thought the both of you would continue being as friendly as you had been yesterday — if “friendly” could be defined as trying to get a rise out of the other, but to you it meant the same.

What’d happened in the few minutes that neither of you were talking?

You could only let out a sigh, pushing yourself up from the table to wash your mug in the sink with a small, unnoticed frown settling over your lips. And it, once more, led you towards the question: why were you thinking about Katsuki?

And you could try to justify it by saying it was because he was the only person you’d really talked to in the entire town — maybe the only person you really got to know (in a small way). Maybe it was just because he was attractive, and there was some sort of pull that always seemed to lead to wherever he was — you really weren’t sure.

Omygodddd…. I’m getting hung up over a guy I’ve barely met.

And with that, you headed upstairs to take a shower and clear your head.

.

.

.

You were, once again, reminded by the circumstances of your trip when you opened your suitcase to only find it stuffed with winter clothes — a byproduct of you still having a majority of your wardrobe stuck in your room at your parents house. You’d been planning on switching out your winter wardrobe with the summer clothes from home over your week spent there, since the sweaters and puffy jackets took up too much space for anything else to fit in your small, shared dorm closet.

The only thing that seemed to be appropriate for the weather outside was an oversized university t-shirt that you’d gotten at the beginning of the year that you’d promptly forgotten about, only found a couple days ago when you packed your whole wardrobe away — and a pair of jeans.

The shirt seemed to swallow you though, since the university had just given out large sizes for everyone (maybe because they expected everyone was gonna be a giant football player for some reason), so you tied it up into a somewhat crop top just so you wouldn’t drown in the cheap cotton.

If you weren’t able to go home this week and switch out your clothes, you might find yourself dying in the heat when you went back for classes next week. At least then you’d have an excuse to tell your parents to buy clothes instead of school supplies.

As you went through your suitcase to see if there was anything you could wear in hotter weather (maybe something had just slipped in), your phone started ringing. 

You only assumed it was your mom, asking what an update was on the situation with your car, and answered it without looking at the screen. 

When “Hey, it’s Eijirou,” came out instead of Hi honey, you had to pause just to register what was going on.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Eijirou,” you finally answered, sitting down on your bed. “Sorry, I’m going through my suitcase.”

“Nah yer all good. I wanted to tell you I brought yer car to Sero’s already. He said the engine looks real old. He’s gonna try and fix it, but he said there’s no promises. I’ll call ya later in the evening once he’s finished.”

“Damn, that was fast.”

“Yeah, well there’s not exactly a lotta business ‘round here. Only luck we have is if someone’s drivin’ and their car breaks down — like what happened with you.” You heard him chuckle from the other end of the phone before it settled into silence for a second or so. “How’s Katsuki treating ya?”

The topic startled you. Was he reading your mind or what? And, what exactly were you supposed to say when you knew they were probably friends of some sort? Katsuki called him Ei.

“Um, fine?” you sounded like you were unsure, which wasn’t what you were going for since you were just confused as to where it came from.

“Lemme know if he’s being an asshole — I’ll whack him upside the head for ya. He doesn’t exactly have a lotta experience being open with others.”

WHERE IS ALL THIS COMING FROM??

“I’ll, uh — I’ll keep that in mind,” you responded just as unsure, which was then met with an awkward silence that he finally ended with an “I’ll call ya later about the car” and a goodbye.

You hung up the phone feeling more confused about what was going on with Katsuki than you’d started, and just decided to ignore all of it to head downstairs and tell him about the situation with your car — he did say to tell him what happened when you got the call from Eijirou.

No one was in the kitchen when you stepped out to the back porch, making sure to close the door behind you. It was the first time you’d seen the rest of the farm in its openness, and not through a window. 

A vegetable garden was what first caught your eyes, sitting in a small fenced area just next to the porch with neat little rows and small wooden signs labeling each crop. A faded red barn sat just a couple hundred feet past that, with a couple of windows you could see horses through as you walked past a separate patch of strawberries. 

You spotted one of the cabins that Katsuki had been talking about earlier towards the left of it all: a neat little wood cabin with a small, clean porch, a welcome mat, and a rocking chair out front. 

You found Katsuki standing at the side of the barn with a hose and a bucket, washing a foal who looked like they’d rather do anything than be there at that moment.

He didn’t say anything when he noticed you’d approached him, evidenced by the double take he’d given your figure before he went back to brushing the wriggling horse to make sure the soap cleansed them thoroughly.

“Eijirou called about the car.”

He didn’t look up as he responded. “And?”

“He said that Sero said the engine looked pretty old, so it might not be able to get fixed. But he’ll call later in the evening to let me know for sure.”

You heard him hum before he doused the foal with hose water.

“I’m not really sure what to do now,” you continued, leaning against the wall. “If the car isn’t fixable does that mean I’m stuck? I don’t wanna ask my parents to come out all the way here just to get me.”

“I’ve gotta go to the farmers market in the city again tomorrow,” Katsuki grumbled as he towel-dried the foal (who snuggled into his warmth). “I can jus’ take ya with me.”

“Are you sure?” you pressed. “I don’t want to be a burden and–”

“Stop talkin’ shit,” he rolled his eyes as he scooped the foal up and walked back into the barn with you following. “M’already going there — S’not a burden if I’m already headed there anyways. Jus’ lemme know what happens later and we’ll see.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, watching him place the foal back into the stable with its mother, where it rushed straight to nurse from her. “What’s their name?” you turned to Katsuki.

“The foal? Her name’s Lavender.”

“That’s pretty,” you hummed.

“Thought it was fitting for a spring baby,” he shrugged, rearranging some of the tack equipment to their proper places on the opposing wall.

You walked over to another horse, a pretty brown mare who had her head sticking out of her stall, trying to gauge your attention. 

“You named them?”

“Some of ‘em, yeah,” he gestured to the pretty girl who was now nuzzling your hand to encourage you to keep running your fingers across her face. “She’s Iris.”

“I used to love naming horses,” you gave your full attention to the creature in front of you, scratching the sides of her ears as she bent down. You could feel Katsuki’s stare from the back of your head.

“My grandparents had horses,” you continued. “They lived not too far from the town I live in, so we’d try and visit them in the summer. They used to let me name the summer babies when we visited — one of them was Baby. She was a baby horse so I only thought it was proper to name her Baby. I was three, I think,” you chuckled. “Another one was Strawberry — because I had an obsession with strawberries when I was six.”

When you looked back at Katsuki, he was leaning against the opposing wall, staring at you — more like observing you, actually; like you were some animal in your natural habitat on some nature documentary.

“The first horse I ever named was this black mare when I was ten,” he spoke, hands dug into his sides with his arms crossed over his chest. “Called her Cherry.”

“That sounds like a hooker’s name,” you raised an eyebrow, watching as the soft expression he wore turned into a playful sneer.

“Hah? As if Baby and Strawberry aren’t hooker names.”

“Well, I mean, they could be,” you rolled your eyes. “But I feel like they’re not as obvious as Cherry.”

“Whatever,” he bit back, pushing himself off the wall. “Still a better name than Baby.”

“I was three!”

“Whatever you say,” you heard him chuckle as he strode out, hands shoved into his pocket with a cocky stance. “Now are ya gonna help me, or are ya just gonna stand around and stare?”

“Help you with what, exactly?” It was your turn to cross your arms over your chest with an eyebrow raised. “I thought I was too weak to help.”

“This is different.”

“What is it?”

“Strawberries.”

“...Strawberries?”

He didn’t answer you as he charged straight out of the barn, his stupid cowboy boots leaving you in the dust as you were forced to follow behind him without an answer. 

Katsuki led you past the vegetable garden you saw earlier to the small patch of strawberries you’d noticed, though you didn’t get what he meant by saying he needed “help” with them. Picking them? 

The cabin you’d noticed earlier lay nearby as well, under the cool shade of the grove of trees outlining the main house — and you stood, watching as  Katsuki ran up the small steps of the porch to grab two baskets, before coming back to hand you one.

“That cabin’s yours?” you squinted in the sun, almost jealous that you weren’t wearing some bigass cowboy hat that would protect your eyes.

“Yeah,” he grunted. “Strawberries are mine too,” he gestured towards the small, fenced area. “I grew ‘em myself for the market.”

“Really? That’s so cool,” you followed him, stepping over the fence. “So you sell them for yourself then?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “The old man said he doesn’t really care what we do since we’ve already helped him for so long.”

“Do you just sell them as plain strawberries — or do you make stuff out of them?”

“Jus’ jam, usually,” he grunted, leaning down as he began picking the fruits off the bushes and tossing them into his basket. “Don’t really get enough time to do much else.”

You hummed, leaning down at another bush as you plucked off a couple strawberries and placed them into the basket held in the crook of your elbow. They were so vibrantly red, like the color of expensive lipstick your roommate liked to wear out to a bar (under the guise that it’d attract rich, hot dudes)  — like the color of Katsuki’s eyes, just as you’d noticed the night before.

You kind of wanted to eat all of them, though you weren’t sure that Katsuki would be happy about you gobbling down all of his strawberries. He’d probably tear you a new one. But, maybe a taste wouldn’t hurt.

You plucked a small one, as ripe and red as some of the larger ones you’d picked, just so it would be more discreet — a small smile creeping up when you saw that Katsuki was busy doing what he was doing; you were about to pop it into your mouth when you noticed a beetle making it’s journey through the leaves of the bush before it crawled into one of the branches and disappeared into the plant, and immediately decided against trying any of them before they were washed.

It wasn’t too long til your basket was filled to the brim, threatening to overflow from the way they were piled on top of each other; it was heavy enough that it required two hands to hold it.

Katsuki was just about finished too, finally standing up to his full height and wiping away the sweat that’d dripped down his forehead with the back of his forearm before his eyes settled on you. A small, sly smirk had made its way up to his lips, though you couldn’t understand why he was looking at you like that.

“What’s the look for?” you raised an eyebrow.

“You need both hands to hold the basket?” he snorted.

You wrinkled your nose as soon as you realized he was carrying his own with a single sturdy hand — almost making the stupid basket look as light as air, even though you knew how heavy it was since it was just as filled (if not more) as yours was.

“Well sorry Mr. I work on a farm and basically lift weights for a living, that I need two hands to hold the basket so I don’t fall on my ass,” you huffed, rolling your eyes when he let out his bark of a laugh.

“Jus’ gimme that,” he walked towards you, holding his other hand out.

“No. I can carry it on my own.” Even though my shoulders are killing me. But feminism!

“It looks like yer arms are about to pop off,” he took another step closer. “Give it.”

“Nope,” you answered, making sure to pop the p while rolling your feet back and forth between your toes and heels.

“Give me the basket, shitty woman.”

“You said I should be helping you,” you emphasized. “This is me helping you.”

“You can help me — by giving me the basket.”

“How is that helping you?”

“Ya can’t exactly do anything else if yer arms fall off,” he rolled his eyes, ignoring the offended look you gave him. “B’sides, I want ya to go grab the jars for me.”

His hand comes to grab the handle you’re gripping tightly, fingers accidentally brushing against yours as the smell of aftershave hits your nose, just as it had yesterday from how close you’re standing — it makes your stomach flutter from how warm and rough his hands are, just from that little glimpse you catch of him, and you almost drop the basket in the process.

“Wh-Where are they?” you don’t break the eye contact that’s connected you, his hand still over yours.

“M’house,” he rasps — and you swallow, thickly, letting the weight of the basket shift from your hands to his before he continues. “They’re on the counter.”

You nod slightly, finally breaking the heat of his stare and his fingers when you fully let go of the basket and turn to the small cabin, thankful for the cool shade of the trees when you step up the porch from how hot your face has become, like you’d gotten a sunburn.

The little welcome mat invites you in as you push open his front door; and though it feels strange walking into someone’s house like that, you don’t want to look back at Katsuki and give him the opportunity to notice your flushed face.

You settle on not being nosy as you make your way into his kitchen after wiping your shoes on the welcome mat, just taking note of his decor’s simplicity and the cleanliness of the small cabin. There was a cardboard box filled with jars sitting on the counter, just as he said there would be — which you grabbed easily before making your way outside. 

Katsuki was still standing where he had been, feet rooted in the same position under the sun with flushed cheeks under his cowboy hat — an unreadable expression on his face before he turned and began trudging towards the house with you by his side. There was nothing besides the crunch of dirt underfoot and the birds you could hear from the trees. Your shoulders occasionally bumped due to your unfamiliarity with the uneven ground, but he never said anything — so you left it.

The kitchen was quiet too, when you both walked in, with only the sound of the fan whirring from the living room ceiling while you looked up to Katsuki, wondering what’d happened again.

Every time there was a moment between you, it disappeared to reveal Katsuki being harsher than he had been previously — and it was always in a matter of seconds. Sure, he hadn’t been welcoming when you met him, but he was still willing to stop at the side of the road to help a complete stranger; that could tell you enough about his character. 

You watched from the kitchen table as he washed the strawberries in a large plastic bowl in the sink, rinsing them out a couple of times before he placed them between your seat at the table and the one next to you. As he turned away to get whatever else he needed, you stole a strawberry — popping it into your mouth, eyes widening from how good it was.

After plucking the stem off another, a firm hand stopped you from taking a bite out of it; and Katsuki gave you a sneer after stealing it and taking a bite while he sat in the seat next to you.

“Cut ‘em small,” he pushed a knife and a cutting board your way.

“What’re you doing then?” you raised your eyebrows, watching as he finished off the rest of the strawberry he’d stolen.

“Making sure ya do it correctly,” he leaned back in his chair.

“That’s not fair.”

“It is if yer a thief.”

“It was one.”

“I saw you take the first one,” he smirked, leaving you to roll your eyes before pulling the bowl closer and getting to work.

He hovered over you for the first five you did, commenting that you were cutting the strawberry cubes too big or too small (though you weren’t sure it mattered if they were ‘too’ small — didn’t you want it as small as possible for jam?). But when he finally approved of the size of the pieces, you built up a pace for yourself — slicing them long twice before cutting them three (or four, depending on the size of the strawberry) ways across — tossing them into a different bowl Katsuki’d provided when the cutting board became too full.

It didn’t take as long as you would have expected, your fingers stained red and ready to prune when you finished, before looking up to find Katsuki’s nodding head bobbing alongside you.

“Not too bad for a newbie,” he smirked, standing up and grabbing sugar. 

After adding the amount he deemed necessary, he showed you how he got it ready to cook by mixing the sugar and strawberries with a spatula until the mixture was soupy and liquidy. He transferred it to a pot on the stove, still stirring it with the same spatula as he explained what to do.

“If it starts sticking, ya need to take it off and lower the heat,” was one of the pieces of advice he gave (the only one you retained)  — but all you could do was watch the top of his cowboy hat bob up and down from your spot on the countertop, kicking your legs slightly as you watched him go through the motions of making strawberry jam.

It continued on for twenty minutes, of him explaining small things that you weren’t really listening to as he continued to stir it; until you watched the foam bubble down to reveal a shiny jam, darker than the color of the original strawberries.

“Put the kettle on,” he ordered, and you kicked your legs out as you pushed yourself off the counter. 

You wandered to the other side of the kitchen to do as he asked, watching as he turned the gas off and let the pot start cooling down while stirring.

“What’s the water for?”

“So the jars don’t break,” he looked up. “The glass shatters if the temperature difference is too high.”

He had you pour the water into the jars to warm them up before he came to the table and started filling them up with a ladle stolen from a kitchen drawer, handing them to you to seal and cap them. 

The process was quiet and concentrated, as you both went through the motions of filling up each jar and sealing them, until you were finished and left with about thirty jars.

It was when you finished that you realized how close you were sitting next to each other, shoulders almost touching, your pinky fingers basically intertwined; you could practically feel the heat radiating off of him. And when you turned to look at him, you noticed how close your faces were to each other — how you you could practically feel his breath fanning your face when he did the same, how his eyes seemed to roam your face the same way yours were doing to his — and how it felt like you were getting closer; an invisible string was drawing you together, bringing you both closer and closer as you stared at his lips.

“Oh — jam?”

All it took was an instant for the both of you to break eye contact, turning to stare at the back door. Shoto had stepped in, completely disregarding the both of you as he walked forward and picked up a jar. You barely realized when Katsuki’s expression had turned into a sneer and he’d stood up from the table without missing a beat.

“Beat it half n’ half.”

“But, it’s lunch,” Shoto stared at him blankly.

And just like that, it was like nothing had happened. Again.

.

.

.

Lunch consisted of peanut butter and jam sandwiches (because Katsuki had argued that you couldn’t refer to his jam as jelly — even though they were basically the same thing), and earned you the nickname “strawberry shortcake” when you dropped jam on your shirt. 

(“Didn’t ya say you were obsessed with strawberries?” Katsuki smirked when you asked him where it came from.)

Eijirou called after lunch to let you know that the car wasn’t able to be fixed and that Sero wanted to buy it so he could use some of the parts. The news wasn’t that surprising, since your parents had bought it second hand as soon as you got your driver's license when you turned sixteen and that you were now a rising senior in college; and after a quick phone call to your parents to let them know about the situation, they agreed the best thing to do would be selling it so you could buy a new car.

You didn’t even notice when the sun began hanging low in the sky — and the afternoon turned to evening. 

It was during dinner that you realized that you probably wouldn’t get a chance to see anyone ever again. Even if you hadn’t spent time with Shoto or Izuku — it was easy to see how nice and welcoming they were. It led to the four of you (Katsuki tagged along too) laying outside beside a small campfire and drinking beer, trading stories as if you’d known each other your entire life.

It was fun to learn about their lives in a small town: how everyone had practically known each other by the time they were five and all the shenanigans they would get up to. They told you about their other friends, the ones who’d moved away for bigger opportunities in bigger cities — and you noticed the way Katsuki’s face seemed to fall when the topic was brought up, even though he hid it by sipping on his beer quietly.

Both Shoto and Izuku eventually waved their goodbyes when they got up to go to bed, in the case that they wouldn’t be able to see in the morning if they were too busy, leaving you and Katsuki to quietly sip beer by the flames in comfortable silence.

“It’s weird to think that I won’t see you again,” you murmured after a while. The couple of beers you drank seemed to loosen the restraint your mind was holding on your mouth, and you stared up at the sky after a moment when he didn’t answer. “I won’t get the chance to be here again.”

Katsuki hummed in response, watching as you began tracing out constellations with your finger, muttering the names to yourself in the exact stupid way Deku used to. But, he wasn’t annoyed when you did it.

“Can I ask you something?” you turned to him suddenly, watching as he put his beer down.

“Shoot.”

“Why was your mood changing all day?”

“What d’you mean?” he blinked.

“Like, it felt like we were close at times — but then you’d seem angry again,” you looked back up at the sky and sighed before trailing off. “I just, I thought…”

“I heard you yest’rday.” 

You snapped back to where Katsuki was staring at the ground.

“No one’s compared my eyes to strawberries before,” he commented. “Usually it’s rubies n’ other shit.”

“You heard?”

“M’pretty sure everyone heard shortcake,” he chuckled. “You were fuckin’ yappin’ at the top of yer lungs.”

“I was not!” you huffed. You could feel your face burning up as you huffed and turned away.

It remained silent for another minute or two before Katsuki spoke again.

“Back in highschool, I was with someone,” he started. “And I thought we were gonna stay like that — that she was gonna go away for college and come back so we could get married. I proposed to her, and she said no and left.” He looked back up and you watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed thickly. “You– uh, I guess you reminded me of her a little.”

You could only blink in response to his confession, watching the light from the fire dance off his face as he stared almost wistfully off into the distance.

“I do think, that uh, yer…pretty, or whatever,” he coughed out. “But, it’s not permanent. Yer gonna go back tomorrow and eventually forget.”

It was silent again, the sound of the crackling fire remnant of his car’s old air conditioning.

“You don’t know that,” you finally spoke hesitantly, scooting across the log to where he was sitting. 

He looked up at those words, his eyes scanning your face, your expressions, the way you’d placed yourself so easily next to him.

“And even if I don’t stay here, it’s not like there’s no way to contact you — or even see you again. You live a couple hours from me, and you come to farmer’s markets there,” you paused, gathering your thoughts before you looked back up at him and the soft look on his face. “Katsuki… whatever she did — I’m not her.”

Maybe the beer had a larger effect on you than you thought it did — you weren’t one to admit something like that as easily as you just did, but it was probably a combination of the hazy spell your mind was experiencing as well as the intoxicating atmosphere of the night. You could feel your heart jump in your chest as Katsuki just stared at you, his eyes flicking down ever so often until he moved himself closer to you, his hand hovering just above your cheek as you inhaled his scent once more.

“...may I kiss you?” he whispered.

You nodded slightly, shocked, before he’d pressed his lips up against yours in a sweet, chaste kiss. You could taste the beer on him as his hands rose and cupped your cheeks gently, his thumbs stroking the tops of your cheeks as yours tangled around his neck, playing with the back of his hair.

He took that as an invitation to pull you closer, pulling you up onto his lap with his arms wrapped around your waist and rubbing small strokes up the small of your back — melting into each other as sugar does into jam, slowly and gently and passionately through small touches and gazes. 

When you finally pulled away for air, you could see the flush of his face as he stared up at the sky and panted, pulling you flush against his chest.

“Damn shortcake,” you heard the smirk in his voice — though it didn’t seem to be as cocky as you would’ve expected. “You know how to kiss.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you murmured into his chest, feeling the rumble as he let out a short chuckle.

“Nothin’,” he pulled away for a second, and you noticed him grabbing something from his jean pocket.

In the light of the fire, he showed you his beaten leather wallet, with cracks and scratches — pulling out a fifty dollar bill that he then handed to you.

“What’s this for?” you sat up, your head leaning against his shoulder.

“S’the money you gave Ei,” he flipped it over, revealing a phone number on the other side, before looking away in embarrassment. “I was gonna give it to ya tomorrow when I dropped ya off — Ei suggested it.”

You couldn’t help but let out a giggle to the red that was rising on his face, becoming even more flushed than he had been when he kissed you.

“Thank you,” you smiled. “Now I can call you on your ancient phone.”

“Yeah, well, now I can teach ya how to make strawberry shortcake.”

There are certain days where Bakugou just doesn’t get to expend all of the energy he saves up during his work days. So on those days, when he comes home, eyes alert and darting around until they find you, your body is instantly getting ready for—something. It tells you there’s a predator nearby, watching, waiting for your guard to lower so it can pounce.

And he does, he always does. Sets his bag down all slow, eyes never leaving yours, doesn’t even unlace his boots before he starts stalking toward you. And you take off in a dash, a deer sprinting from sharp teeth, quick around the kitchen island as Bakugou pounces.

And it would be terrifyingly scary event, if you weren’t giggling the whole goddamn time.

“Kats! Stop it! Can you please be normal for once?!” You screech in a laugh, trying to keep the joyous sound at bay as you catch your breath in a moments reprieve. You’re facing off against each other, him on one side of the counter huffing, you on the other. He splays his hands over the countertop, eyes narrowing, an evil little grin overtaking his face.

“Just cmere and I’ll stop.” He tells you, a lie that you’re already aware of from believing him countless times before. So you stare at each other for another beat of silence again before he tries to run around the counter to get you, and you’re darting off again into the living room.

He hops over the couch, misses you by a strand of hair as you giggle raucously, sliding into your shared room as you can hear his heavy stomps hot on your heels. You try to close the door but Bakugou is quicker, dives on you before you can brace yourself, flips you over midair so that his body lands on the floor and you’re cushioned between his strong arms and chest.

“Get off!” You scream to him, laughter filling up the space as Bakugou only grunts and peppers your face in kisses.

“No, fuckin’ brat. Running from me ‘nd shit.” He tells you in between wet smacks to your lips and nose and cheeks. You can only lay there and take it, face smushed against his as he squeezes you until you huff out another breathy laugh.

“You like the chase!” You exclaim, trying to wriggle free from his grip, and he lets you. Only because he can see you’re gearing up to run again and he still needs some energy to expend from the slow work day. So he grins, splayed out on the floor, one knee hiked up as he stares at you from under his lashes, readying his body to attack.

“I do,” he admits, lunging at you and missing as you quickly turn the corner. The chase begins, and once again ends in you pinned to the ground covered in too many kisses for you to count. It’s both of you guys’ favorite way to get rid of that extra unburned energy for the day.

SAGE GREEN (THE GREAT UNDOING OF MY HEART) (4.9k)

bakugou katsuki x f!reader

SYNOPSIS:

bakugou loves running into his ex girlfriend at parties. he also still loves you.

WARNINGS:

minors dni, exes to lovers, didn’t end on bad terms, missionary, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, lots of feelings, flashbacks, princess petname, reader is a magazine editor, bkg pro hero.

AUTHORS NOTE:

if you don’t understand the flashbacks that’s on you not me but this is also a pre warning there is some OKAY !!!! title is dedicated to that type of ao3 title lmao also i read the magnolia parks series and so many lines are inspired by that okay love u magnolia parks. dedicated to magnolia parks.

bakugou knows if he was with you for a little longer, probably just an extra single day he would have fallen in love with you. the type of love where he wouldn’t let you go even when it’s the right thing to do. falling in love with you was so easy, it was inevitable. he wasn’t sure how anybody was supposed to survive after being around you so he stopped before it got complicated. if anyone asked him if he regret it, yes wasn’t the first answer that came to mind because after it all, he had to. 

relationships as a pro hero were hard. painfully, painfully so. the reason why all his friends were pro heroes and out of all of them, only one had been in a long relationship. ultimately relationships meant putting the other in danger, the number one target to attack as soon as they got a new enemy. it wasn’t a fun life to live, wondering if your significant other got home safely tonight when you’re on a mission away or if the reason they’re not picking up the phone is that there’s no service on the train, not because they’ve been kidnapped by a villain for revenge. 

it was just easier to be out of one, so before bakugou could let himself fall in love he ended it. it was amicable, with no hard feelings which probably was something he does regret because every time he sees you since you’ve always given him a smile that makes his heart drop to his stomach and you always engage in a sweet conversation that makes him want. he could never be happy in this deep stage of want. now if you hated him, that would be easier. ignoring him in public and talking bad about his name in private, alas scraps of your attention is everything to him so he’ll take it when you give it.

today, he didn’t think he’d see you but that was stupid on his part because you have the same friends of friends and this is a mutual friend’s party. when he knows you’re coming he knows how to prepare. controlling his expression when you walk in the room so there are no bulging eyes and dropped drinks. is it weird to say he misses that? being on your arm when you walk into a room, the power when everyone looks at you, pretending just to glance as their eyes flitter around your skirt that hugs your hips and the shape of your cheeks. you were the centre of gravity. he feels the pull when you stand at the bar on your own. the antagonistic feeling of needing to beat the other men watching you flares in his blood.

“be back in a sec,” he mumbles to whoever’s listening, kaminari he thinks, as he rises from his booth and makes his way over to you.

you’re wearing sage green. you taught him the name of that particular shade of green because apparently it was common men like him didn’t know the name of colours. 

“men like me? you talk to lots of men like me?” 

he adores you, standing beside him in your sage green pyjamas, a cute silk set with shorts showing the underside of your ass. you’ve got your toothbrush in your mouth. “matter of fact, yes i do and men like you don’t know your colours. this is a much softer green. earthy like herbs.” you wave your hand in the air to gesticulate, peeking at his bare chest and then up to his eyes.

bakugou always had so much to say to you that when it came to actually articulating the words, his brain would go numb. “don’t talk about other men in my house,” he manages to grunt, eyes half closing like they always do when your fingertips graze his chest. “my favourite colour on you.”

he wants to think you’re wearing it now, a short sage green dress with lace trim, for him. delusion keeps him going, keeps his legs walking towards you and he feels his senses hum when he’s in your radius. until another man slides beside you and you give your polite smile. bakugou stares at the man, gaze hardened and burning until he gets the message. there’s a rush from the stupid man, scrambling a goodbye as you frown at the quick entry and even faster exit. then you spin around and land on bakugou.

your smile is the closest thing to purgatory bakugou can ever describe. he’s not rewarded with one of your polite smiles. he gets one of your smiles that goes to your eyes, that makes your top teeth sink into your bottom lip and your posture becomes straighter. he thinks you could have loved him back if he let you. 

“should have known it was you behind me. nobody makes men run away from me faster than you,” no malice behind your words, instead a sweet laugh that sounds like wind chimes.

“should i go? let you continue your conversation with a guy that looks like he’s about to piss himself in your presence?” bakugou grunts but the corner of his mouth quirks up because he likes you more than he should. 

“don’t pretend that wasn’t you when we first met. if i remember correctly, you stuttered at least three times,”

“and if i remember correctly, which i always do, i made you stutter more than three times in my bed later that day,” he smirks. you’re twirling a ring he didn’t give you around your finger.

people always have something to say about bakugou’s choice of language, of conversation. his quick nudge to something inappropriate, blunt or rude. you like his unexpectedness, always never completely prepared for what comes out of his mouth.

you gasp, before catching yourself and lightly smacking his arm. he feels your fingertips printed on his skin even once they’ve left. “do you always have to be so crude, katsuki?”

he leans on the sticky bar to distract him from your eyes. he stares at the alcoholic bottles like he’s deciding what to drink. he hasn’t drunk since he was a teen. “always for you, princess.”

he feels your stare on the side of his face and he wonders what you’d do if he held your chin and kissed you. probably a bad idea. you then turn away from him, feeling hot from the nickname he gave you when you were together.

“princess? really? how original,” but you’re biting your cheek to hide a smile as you climb into his bed and rest your head on his chest. bakugou always runs warm, a big hot water bottle with arms that wrap around you tightly.

“you’ve got the whole ‘look at me, i’m so fuckin’ pretty and i don’t know it and i need to be protected. risk your life for me and help me escape from this tower’ look to you.”

bakugou can’t help the laugh when you push him away to sit up. you’re wiggling a finger in his face, donning the same sage green pyjamas, face completely bare and legs still across his torso.

“firstly there’s no confusion about it, i know i’m pretty. if nobody thought i was, i still know i am, don’t get that twisted,” bakugou’s hands find your bare thighs, squeezing and rubbing while he listens to your rant. he loves when you talk and prove him wrong. “secondly i don’t need to be protected, i can take care of myself. i think that’s your whole ‘i am big strong pro hero i need to protect everyone or i will die trying’ thing you’ve got going on. thirdly i don’t live in a tower but if someone wanted to help me escape from one, well that’s less work for me.”

you end with a little shrug and bakugou yanks you to his lips. you succumb naturally, meeting his soft pecks and when he’s about to slide his tongue into your mouth, you flick under his chin. he’s beautiful when he smiles and you think you could love him. “i think you just proved why you’re a princess, princess.”

“so how’s work been?”

bakugou’s brain shakes at the question. the normalcy of it, the disconnect. usually, you’d just know how work had been, coming over to his every evening to hear him talk about his day. but he forgets that was a year ago and you’re closer to strangers than whatever you could have been. when he meets your eyes he believes there will always be more to you both. you could never be strangers. so much can be said with one look, so many questions. are you keeping safe? have you been hurt? is your sidekick still using your mug? i saw that magazine shoot, i think you mentioned me? do you still get no days off? have you been sleeping? is it all worth leaving me?

he grunts and to you that says more than words can, “it’s been alright. idiots in the office still using my shit when i put my name on it in fuckin’ black sharpie—,”

“are you writing it on the bottom?”

“well yeah, i’m not gonna—,”

“nobody reads the bottom of a mug, katsuki.”

bakugou bites his tongue before letting out a loud exhale, your giggle fills the bubble of you both. 

“they’re knocking another year off my life every time they touch my shit.”

“how about i send you a mug with black bold lettering on the front? ‘DYNAMIGHTS. DO NOT TOUCH!’ sounds threatening, don’t you think?” you ask, head resting in your palm.

he wants a gift from you. bakugou makes a grumble of, “maybe,” big shoulders shrugging with a rub of his jaw. then he side-eyes you, “how’s work f’you?”

he’s recently heard through the grapevine, also known as your instagram and his best friend midoriya, that you finally got your dream job as an editor for one of the major hero magazines. you were always taking freelance jobs when you were together, back and forth with different companies before you finally found your footing. he wishes he was there to see it finally unfold, the elation on your face once you got the offer, the takeaway you’d eat after and the night being all about you. he knows his sloppy ‘congratulations’ text didn’t show how he really felt.

he sees a glimmer of excitement pass through your pupils and he holds it in his palms, “oh really good! i’ve got my own office and everything. i even asked for the corner one like you said that one time. do you remember?”

it’s early morning, bakugou’s sliding you your toast and eggs across the kitchen while he stirs his morning coffee. bitter and black while you’re sunshine and dreams, waving the buttery toast in the air, “and i want an office with at least one window so i can put all my plants—,”

bakugou settles you with a single look, “princess.”

you frown, “what?”

“you won’t get shit if you don’t ask. fuck, demand it. you’re not gonna get one window, you’re gonna get multiple. you, beautiful girl, are gonna get the fuckin’ corner office that looks across the city.” he states like it’s gospel, pressing his coffee mug to his lips. “dream big or don’t dream at all.”

he takes a gulp of his morning fuel and you slowly chew your toast, staring at this man with rough hands and ruby eyes and you don’t know how anyone could ever have anything bad to say about him. 

“i just have to ask?” 

“yeah, babe and if they say no, fuck ‘em.”

bakugou is always so confident in everything he does and you spend so much time with him, you think it’s brushing off on you. you can literally feel a piece of your heart being sewn back together when he wipes a crumb off your cheek and goes back to drinking his coffee because in this world with him, you can get anything if you try. you’ve always been deserving of your dreams.

“so if i ask you to be a little late to work to shower with me, you could say yes? if you say no i have to fuck you?” you smile slyly, your voice becoming sultry because he can’t see so much potential and believe in you so much and not get a little appreciation from you. 

he rolls his eyes, a hearty laugh escaping his chest, “with me you never have to ask. i’ll give you anythin’”

bakugou nods. of course, he remembers. the way your eyes shone with infinite possibilities of how your life could look. he wonders if you ever saw him in your future.

“course i fuckin’ remember. i’m proud of you, knew you’d get anythin’ you wanted.”

never got you, you think because what would come from you being honest out loud? he didn’t want you then, why would he now?

“thanks katsuki. you always believed in me,” there was a new air to your encounter now and you knew if you stayed for longer tears would definitely slip by. bakugou’s hunched shoulders relaxed, head flicking to look at you hopping off your stool.

“anytime, princess,” he mumbles, rising to his full height and you fight the groan at how much bigger he’s gotten since you saw him last.

you couldn’t have him how you wanted but you could have him one way. “i’m going to head over to my friends but just find me if you wanna go back to mine later?”

you tilt your head to the left so he knows what you mean and bakugou wishes he was transported to a lifetime where he was yours and you were his and this wasn’t the only way. he realises there’s way too much between you both, now and forever to minimise your relationship into a flimsy friends with benefits one or was it exes with benefits? he can’t keep up. he hates it all the same but he’ll take what he can get, just a moment of your time, being able to touch you again.

he smirks like he’s supposed to, and scratches his jaw like he gets sexual propositions daily. he can’t see the wavering emotion in your eyes because he looks the same. “i’ll find you, princess. just give me the sign.”

you slap on a smile and for a moment you wonder if it’s normal to just feel the other look at you across the room before they’ve already done it. you were magnets, hyper-aware of each other and always finding a way back together.

you give him a little wink, thumb running along the lace trim of your dress before heading over to your friends.

bakugou doesn’t know if fucking you while knowing he’s in love with you is one of his smartest ideas but fuck it, he’ll find out when you kill him.

he hasn’t had a sip of alcohol tonight, he’s been going between a ginger beer and water so he can’t blame anything but his obsession with you about how he can’t remember leaving the bar, checking if anyone was following him, getting in an uber and now being in your bedroom.

everything is the same. all your knick-knacks across the shelves, your smutty books and a pile of clothes (a mixture of clean and dirty) on your chair. perhaps the only thing that he does notice is the figurine of himself he got you as satire, which has moved from your desk to the top of your bookshelf where he knows you can’t see it unless you crane your neck. bakugou thinks if he reads into that more he can figure out a little about what you feel about him. though he saves that for when you aren’t softly whining for him to help take off your dress.

your fingers are faster, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing his jacket off his shoulders. you had about two drinks a while ago so you were practically sober. surely sleeping with your ex is a decision you make drunkenly one random evening? but if he’s not questioning it, why should you? especially when you catch sight of his smooth chest and his calloused fingertips graze the back of your neck, then your spine to find your zipper.

“fuck, how are you more beautiful than last time i had you?” he grunts like a curse, yanking off his clothes and then moving to pull off your dress.

you lay back on your bed, arms stretching up for him to follow you. bakugou does join you, who wouldn’t follow the light after they’ve been cast in darkness? he’s got his palms by your head in a press-up position, ready to duck down and finally kiss you when you get distracted, “wait, is that new?” 

you’re only in your underwear as your eyes bulge at the sight of new ink on his arms. bakugou doesn’t realise what you’re on about, lost in you being almost naked for him until you brush your thumb softly over the inside of his wrist.

only you’d notice his new tats, nobody else has since he’s already got so many. probably from when you’d spend hours in bed asking about every single one. then asking if he’d ever get one for you, with a laugh that you’re not being serious. but turns out he was, though was an odd choice.

“wilted leaves? weeds? what plant is it?” you ask and you let him unclasp your bra from behind you. 

“dunno, just asked for herbs and my guy did that,” he murmurs, leaving out the fact he specifically chose wilted ones. his eyes darken once you pull your bra off, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans.

you’ve always had a thing for his hands around there. with his belt, his trousers, his cock. he still knows you do because he smirks once your eyes drop. he kicks off his jeans and your hands find his chest, sides, arms, anything you can touch. bakugou katsuki is beautiful. everybody knows this, his half-naked body is on adverts, billboards, news outlets and magazine covers. you wonder how many people have seen him like this in the flesh.

“why wilted herbs then?” your question comes out in a whisper as he presses soft kisses down your jaw and along the length of your neck. your nerves are already high, ready for some friction between your legs.

“thought it would look cool,” wasn’t a complete lie, it does look cool but he’s not about to admit this one’s for you. you and your sage green, green like herbs. it was a permanent reminder of you etched in his skin, of what you had because if he can’t have you, he hopes he never stops remembering you.

that’s enough thinking for bakugou as he manoeuvres your body further up the bed so he can stretch your legs out and get between them. he rocks his clothed cock against your clothed centre and he swims in your pretty moans.

a smirk slides on his face like honey, his fingers pinching your nipple, “what d’you want from me, princess?”

“your tongue.”

“where?”

you pout, dragging his head down for a kiss, “my pussy.” he meets your lips in a pout, one peck then another before enveloping his mouth with yours. kisses with katsuki always blew your mind, you’ve never met a man who knew how to use his tongue like him. he’s hard when he grinds into you and he’s rough when he sneaks a hand behind your head to really take control of the kiss. he hasn’t kissed you in months, who can blame him?

then you part, lips shiny and plush with heavy breaths. “i’ve missed that,” he chuckles and he’s about to duck down for another when you push his head down to your lower half.

“get to work,” you grin and make a mental note to halt the kisses because it’s making you think you love the man. hormones, you excuse when he pulls your panties off in one swoop.

“you’ve got no business lookin’ like this,” he says mostly to himself as if he’s trapped in a trance by you. you’re stupidly beautiful, lying across your bed, hair a mess, nipples perked and wet between your legs. his hands dwarf your thighs, massaging them slowly to get you to spread them more. “fuck—,” he trails off before he lays on his stomach and licks between you.

your whole body trembles and you feel a begging sensation beneath your skin to have him, all of him inside you. to be closer than humanely possible. you’re not sure if the time apart has made you forget how good he is with his tongue but it feels even better now, improved and you’re stopping your mind wonder if he’s been with other women since.

the sounds you make together are loud and wet, sucking and licking and you feel his rough stubble scratch against your thigh. he dips his tongue into your hole and you tighten around nothing. you brush your fingers into his hair to hold him into place as the pleasure rolls through you in waves. you’re all jelly and limbs laying back on your bed, mewling with your eyes squeezed shut until two thick fingers slide into you. you gasp in surprise, eyes finding his humoured ones. 

he kisses your clit, “sorry princess.” but he’s not sorry at all as he curls his fingers, brushing your walls and then he begins thrusting. he’s relentless and you’re not embarrassed by how loud you are, if anything your arousal pushes you to your orgasm quicker.

he sucks on your clit with puffy lips and combined with his perfectly angled fingers, you’re coming. your body shakes, thighs tensing and you’re noisy this time. pitiful moans spill from your lips as pleasure washes over you, chest heaving and body coated with a layer of sweat.

his voice is husky when you open your eyes, “good girl.”

he’s addicted to your thighs, rubbing them during your come down, pressing kisses and you’re sure you’ll find little teeth marks later. his words make you ache and you can’t stop thinking about how gorgeous he is. so unbelievably gorgeous.

his lips were glossy with you, the ruby in his eyes now as dark as roses and there was a light flush on his cheeks. his gold tooth gleams every time he praises you and his shoulders are so wide. he’s so large, so strong and now he’s pulling off his black boxers to reveal his cock. you sit up on your forearms now, giving it the attention it deserves. 

“do we need a condom?” the question breaks your cloud of lust and bakugou wishes he never asked, he should have just taken one from your top drawer.

“obviously, how many people have you been with since?” you didn’t mean to say that out loud, so accusing and… jealous. your eyes widen before wincing, your tongue always became loose after an orgasm by yours truly, “don’t answer that please.”

“hah?” he exclaims and he starts moving slowly, crawling up your body with his arms caged around your head. you feel his cock twitch against your thigh and you bite down on your lip. “how many people have you been with since, princess?”

but unlike your question, his lacks bite. there’s an embarrassing amount of curiosity behind his, though there’s the same amount of jealousy. he hopes you don’t notice the curiosity. he doesn’t notice your jealousy. 

now you frown with a pout as his face is a few inches away from yours. you’re the cutest, trying to look away from him but he’s everywhere, all over. 

“i’m not answering that,” probably because it’s embarrassing to say he was the last person when you know he’s been with multiple women. 

bakugou’s eyebrows raise and you don’t miss the disappointment in his eyes. this doesn’t deter him, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips and his cock brushes your skin. “so as i said before, should i get a condom? i’m clean.”

“i am too. still on the pill.”

he stares, not moving until you answer.

“no condom.”

“was hoping you’d fuckin’ say that.”

you both begin again like there was no very real pause of feelings and jealousy. back to being a one night stand between two exes.

he sits up on his knees to shift you into the position you like. your knees push to your head, legs open and wide for him.

“haven’t seen you in months and i still couldn’t get you out my fuckin’ head. still as beautiful as before, maybe more,” he slurs and you notice the tip of his cock purple and shiny. 

“fuck,” you moan impatiently and bakugou chokes a laugh.

“patience princess, just admirin’,”

with one thrust, he slides all the way in. your groan gets stuck in your throat, your arms circling his neck to cling him to you. you think you love him, he has to be your person.

“oh baby, still so—,” he grunts again, biting down on his lip to stop himself from coming on the spot. no way is he about to last, “how you feelin’, princess?”

you nod rapidly at him, your hips bouncing to readjust into a more comfortable position. bakugou, so in tune with you, pulls out to thrust in again, “oh.. oh.” and now he knows you’re good.

“you’re doing so well. c’mon talk to me,” he smiles, licking his thumb and rubbing your nipple.

“so, uh, big. you feel bigger,” you whine, “move, i’m not gonna last long.”

with every thrust from him, you meet it with the same intensity, nipping every bit of skin you can get your teeth on. how is this not right? how is this not where you belong? you feel every vein, every dip and curve of him and as soon as he presses down on your clit you’ve gone. mouth agape as you come again with his touch. you know it’s his tactic to touch your clit when he’s about to come so you do at the same time. joined in a euphoria caused by each other, an experience none can top. he keeps thrusting and you become sloppy, body trembling until he lays his entire weight on your body in exhaustion.

you’re both sweaty and sticky but there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. 

“was that good enough for you?” he grins up at you, cheek on your breast and you’re not sure how he goes from sex god to cute with boyish charm in a single minute.

you roll your eyes, covering his face with your palm. he lightly kisses it. “of course. you’re always good to me.”

a calming air contains you both and you hope he thinks your beating heart is from the sex, sex that could come from anyone. not him in particular. 

“do you wanna shower and we head to bed?” 

“isn’t that too—,” you pause.

intimate? hangs in the air. like a relationship?

bakugou sighs, “i don’t fuckin’ care.” he then lifts to lay on his side to look at you properly. “do you wanna? or i can fuck off?”

you blink at him, mind working a million miles per hour. his eyes hold no judgement, just understanding of any choice you decide to make. your hand curls around his neck to brush through his hair. he thinks he’s won. “you put your clothes on to wash and i’ll start up the shower. sounds like a plan?”

there’s so much unsaid, so much that needs to be discussed but you both take the easy option. “sounds like a fuckin’ plan.” he presses a kiss to your lips then rolls off to gather his clothes off the ground and you pounce up to make your way to your bathroom.

bakugou’s stuffing his clothes in your washing machine, one of the most domestic tasks of them all as he wonders, why can’t he be a pro hero in a relationship? if he can successfully keep the country safe, he can keep you safe too. right? 

your head pops out the doorway, still as naked as he is. “showers warm, you ready?”

he’ll talk about a relationship with you in the morning. if you want one with him again. he nods, kissing your forehead and hugging you to his side, “i’m expectin’ a new mug on my desk from you. you promised.”

you giggle, before your eyes widen like a lightbulb went off. you grab your silk sage green pyjamas, those pyjamas bakugou sees you wearing in his past and dreams, from the dryer. they’re clean and slightly warm and he never thought he’d see them again. you clutch the top and shorts to your chest, planning to wear them once you climb out the shower. you shuffle like huddled penguins, pressed to his side as he drags you to the bathroom. he’s sure it can work out between you both. “of course. i’ll make the mug sage green so you think of me when someone uses it.”

“i’m always fuckin’ thinkin’ of you,” he mumbles as you untangle from his grasp and climb into the shower.

“you coming?”

is this bakugou katsuki coming undone? the bandage wraps around his heart unravelling and connecting with yours. he’s always been yours, always and he wishes he wasn’t stupid enough to try to fight it. he won’t anymore. this is the lifetime where you’ll be by his side. if you let him.

CryBaby

pairing: Bakugou X Fem Reader

Summary: With the bills piling up and no way to know when you will be able to return to work. Your roommate suggests you take a call center job where you can work from home. The job? being an anonymous person for Pro Heroes to vent to.

But no amount of training could prepare you for just how quickly your first caller makes you cry.

Genre: Strangers to lovers, Pro Hero AU

Wordcount: 5.4k Part 1/6

♥Buy me a coffee♥

Part 2

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Also posted on AO3 (most of my work is hanging out there♥)

use of pet names, cursing, and a bit of sassiness. But that's about it for this chapter. (Also this is my first time posting anything significant here, please be gentle with me♥)

It had to have been one of the strangest series of events leading to where you were sitting now. In the comfort of your own home, being berated by a complete stranger on the other end of a phone. Completely blanking on what you should even say to him. Your mind raced to try and come up with even a simple hello to offer him. And instead, all that left your mouth was a stuttering mess of words. That didn’t even sound close to what you were trying to say.

“I’m sorry what did you say?” You tried your best to make your voice revert back to its normal pitch, but it was already too late.

“I said, why the hell do you sound nervous?” He repeats himself a bit gruffly into the phone. “Ain't this your job?”

Oh, if only he knew.

This was your very first day on this job. You weren’t even supposed to be taking live calls today! But when your trainer had called off, your manager sent the email that you would be flying solo. You were already anxious over the fact that you didn’t really know what you were really doing. Let alone having to suffer through figuring it out on your own. None of the training you received during the past week. Had prepped you for when someone was already pissed off and ready to take it out on you.

See, this job wasn’t something you really wanted to take on. But with a small series of unfortunate events you were forced to take what you could. You loved your old job, you really REALLY did. And eventually, you would be able to go back to it. But when you slipped on a rogue chunk of ice and broke your leg in a work-related accident three weeks ago. You were temporarily stuck at home, unable to work.

Of course, you would receive temporary help from the government since you got hurt on the job. But they had been dragging their ass on getting all of the paperwork approved. A bunch of back and forth between your boss and the local office. At some point last week they even lost your application and you had to start all over. Which only meant that the time you had to wait was growing more and more each day.

The bills had started to roll in. And you were looking around every which way to try and find a way to cover everything for the end of the month.

But you loved your job. Working at one of the newer nightclubs in the downtown area. A newly renovated bank that had three separate floors and a huge dance floor. You loved the live DJs on the weekends and you really liked most of your coworkers. The atmosphere was great and you even got to drink a little while working. But most importantly it paid the bills.

Until recently.

Unfortunately, without the ability to freely move around you were all but useless at work. Your job required you to run around most of the night, dealing with people and making sure you were seen. Being the host of a sought-after club was a tiring job, but one you loved.

But with no money left in savings and no real-time frame to give your boss on when you would be able to return to work. You started fumbling around ideas with your roommate about what you could do.

And her answer was simple.

She excitedly told you about one of her friends. Who worked for a company that dealt with customer service. It was a niche crowd they catered to, but from the small rundown you were given it sounded like it was right up your alley. You could work from home, you already had the set up for it thanks to your extensive desk setup for your pc gaming.

It wasn't until you had accepted the offer and signed the NDA. Did you find out all the gory details of what it was that you signed up for.

You would be working as a sort of anonymous voice for people to call and talk to. Like a therapist, but without needing the qualifications for one. You would be there for someone to vent to and their frustration out with. And while it seemed easy enough as soon as you signed those papers. Your manager was quick to pipe up and tell you that those people would in fact be pro heroes. You were now legally bound to keep any and all information that was told to you a secret, for at least the next five years. It didn’t matter how dark or juicy the information you heard was, you couldn’t tell a soul about it. The calls weren’t even going to be recorded to protect the privacy of those who called in. You wouldn’t know who would be calling, or what they wanted until they were on the line. Waiting for you to lead them to your ear. You were told they needed to leave the call satisfied to keep your job.

The satisfied part was a kind of gray area.

That meant it was your job to talk to them about whatever they wanted. If they wanted to complain about some part of their jobs or the way their wives were yelling and screaming. Even went as far as to talk about much more private matters. Although you hoped that wouldn't be the case.

One thing was made clear to you though. You weren't able to disclose much information about yourself. And you weren't able to tell anyone about what the mysterious heroes told you. You couldn't ask who they were or pry too hard into their personal lives. You were simply an anonymous person to who they could talk to.

Maybe if you hadn’t learned about who would be calling, then your nerves wouldn’t have been so bad. But it was the fact that you could very well be talking to well-known and popular heroes. That made you shiver in dread. It wasn’t like you paid much attention to heroes or kept up with following them, but still. They were important people who risked their lives every day in order to keep you safe.

“You fuckin’ pass out or something?” The loud gruff voice on the other end of the line grumbles, pulling you out of your daydream.

“I’m sorry!” You mumble quietly.

You didn’t mean to space out, but the reality of the situation you got yourself into was doing a number on your nerves. Readjusting in your seat you take a moment to try and calm yourself down. If you couldn’t pull it together then this was going to be the last time you ever got to answer that phone. And right now you needed the money.

“Don’t apologize if you didn’t do nothin’, I hate that shit.” He barks into the receiver.

“Le, let me start over!” you try your best to collect your thoughts before you open your mouth again. “Hi, I know we don’t know each other, but i’m-”

And you stop yourself.

The stern voice of your manager over the phone started to ring in your mind. They weren’t allowed to know your name, and like an idiot, you had almost blurted it out. God, how were going to manage to do this if you kept forgetting the simple stuff? He hasn’t even been on the phone with you for two whole minutes and you have already blown this.

“Your what?” He asks, and you can hear a slight sigh of frustration leave his mouth.

“I’m sorry! I’m normally better at this type of thing,” You say lowly.

God and now you felt horrible. You just admitted to a guy, a fucking pro that you couldn’t even handle the basics of your job. Which in black and white terms should be easy as pie. But for whatever reason, you just weren’t getting it. You couldn’t make your mind and your mouth work properly.

“Told you to stop doing that shit!” He growls, and you feel yourself reel a bit from the phone.

Now, this is just great, not only were you failing at doing the job you signed up for. But you had also pissed off your first and probably only last client. With the anxiety and now the threat of losing your only job. You felt your emotions start to crack under the pressure. None of the training you went through for the past week had prepared you for this. And you know that once your manager caught wind of your fuck up you were done for.

You tried your best to cease the welling of tears in your eyes, but they were on the verge of spilling over.

“Don't tell me your gonna start cryin’, that's the last thing I need.” He moans into the receiver.

"I'm s-"

"Don't" He growls into the phone.

The way he barked at you just seems to make it worse. And with a sad little gasp, you feel the first tear break free of your waterline and slide gently down your cheek. Your skin was already heated from having such an awful first day. And now you had a man downright angry at you for doing as simple as apologizing to him.

"Do you wanna do anything other than bark orders at me?" You say with a sniff, wiping the tears from your eyes. "As you can tell I'm already having a rough enough time!"

"Course I got stuck with the crybaby." He replies with a sarcastic tone. "Listen, sweetheart, I need you to close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths for me."

He still sounded mad, and his tone almost made you not want to listen to him. But after another soft sob leaves your mouth you decide to take the olive branch he was extending out to you. Doing as he told you, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. As if he can see your exact motions he starts talking yet again.

“Hold it for five seconds.”

And you do. As hard as it was to force your lungs to cooperate, you follow his instructions. Letting the breath out when he gives you the prompt. Breathing in again and holding it when he tells you to. He guided you smoothly through the entire process. Not missing a single beat as he softens his voice just enough to take the edge off your bubbling anxiety. You don’t know if he was doing it on purpose or not, but it was helping.

After a couple of minutes is when you noticed that he wasn’t as angry sounding anymore. If anything he was talking lower and almost softer to you. Keeping his voice smooth despite the gravelly tone he still carried. Focusing on his voice and listening to his guidance. Was making the tightness in your chest decrease. You had stopped crying and you finally felt comfortable enough to open your eyes once more. He must have been able to hear your breathing go back to normal. But he still gave you a few moments of silence before he said anything.

“You good?” He asked, his voice remaining soft.

And it kinda killed you to admit that it worked. You were no longer feeling so emotionally overwhelmed. Oddly enough felt a little bit of comfort from the asshole even if he was the root cause for your small breakdown.

"Yeah," You say softly. "Thank you."

He simply grunts on the other end before you hear the soft click of the line going dead. Leaving you sitting there listening to a dial tone completely stunned. It was one thing to critique how you handled yourself during that call. But it was another to just hang up on you without a word. Especially after going out of his way to walk you through an emotional breakdown.

Ripping the headphones off your head you hit the button to fully end the call. Pushing yourself away from your desk and forcing yourself to stand. A little haphazardly on your feet. Searching around for your crutches and pulling them to your body. You shuffle your way out of your bedroom and almost stumble into the living room. Your roommate at the kitchen counter looks up at you with a smile.

"How'd it go?" She asks brightly.

You just gave her a look that said more than you ever could. And in an instant, she was shutting her laptop and walking over to you. She slowly follows you as you limp over to the couch and flop down with a tired huff.

"I fucked it!" You moan letting your crutches fall to the floor and place your head in your hands. "Guy hated me, I'm gonna get fired!"

"I'm sure you didn't do that bad!" She tried to reassure you. "What makes you think you messed up so bad?"

Oh God, you didn't even want to admit it. It was far too embarrassing that it happened just a few moments ago. But to admit that you had a mini breakdown with a total stranger.

And fucking pro hero at that!

"I cried on him. He was being mean and I started crying" You admit after a few moments of internal struggling.

She didn't say anything for a moment longer than was comfortable. And you lift your head just long enough to catch a glimpse of her confused expression. Which in return confused you.

"I uh, hey it's OK! it was your first time! I'm sure Riko will have mercy on you." She says trying to comfort you.

But it was no use. You knew that you were about to be handed a swift kick in the ass out the door. How could you not once your manager gets the feedback from your interaction. The only thing you had left to do was go ahead and uninstall all the programs from your computer. And just wait for the dreaded call from her.

You spent the rest of the evening painfully recalling the phone call to her. Reliving every embarrassing detail that your mind hadn't blacked out. To save yourself from trauma. She took pity on you and ordered some takeout from your favorite place down the street. And helped you eventually laugh over the entire fiasco.

"I mean. He talked you through it?" She said with a giggle. "If some guy did that for me, pretty sure I would have thrown a ring at him instantly!"

“But he was so mean about it!” You tried to argue, catching her giggling fit.

“But I like 'em mean!” She laughs a bit harder as she watches your face contort into another face of embarrassment. “Oh my god! You do too!”

“Stop!” You whine, throwing your head away from her direction and falling over dramatically.

“Who do you think it was?” She asks tugging you back up into a sitting position.

You think about it for a moment, but come up blank. You didn’t follow any of the news anymore since you moved to the city. There were too many crime and horror stories playing on a loop. So you opted to just never turn on the tv unless you needed some kind of background noise. So in reality you had no real grasp on just how many heroes there were out there, nor did you know any of their names. And you liked it better that way until she had to go and open her mouth bout it.

“You know we aren't allowed to know that!” you chide. “Besides, it's not like it’s gonna matter anyway. He could be a scaly lizard man for all I care, the guy was still a jerk!”

“Are there any lizard pros out there?” She asks innocently.

And it was the way she looked while trying to rack her brain for that little piece of information. Sent you into another fit of giggles.

That night you went to bed feeling a little bit better. Yeh, you were probably going to lose your job in the morning, but at least you weren’t tearing yourself up over it as much. You might struggle for a little bit, but you could find another job until your worker's comp kicked in. That was going to be one of the first things you started to look at in the morning would be another job. You weren’t gonna let this one mistake haunt you forever.

You didn’t try to let yourself wallow in the mistake you made. But as you lay there getting comfortable under your plush sheets. Tucking your covers under your feet. You can’t help but let your mind wander over who your mystery man could have been. He seemed pretty rude to someone who was supposed to be a pro. He didn’t do anything but berate and criticize you and he even called you a crybaby!

But when he was talking you through your panic attack he did seem concerned. His voice did soften even if he was annoyed about it. He walked you through each and every step in a cool collected manner, making sure that you were ok before he moved on. Maybe it was just the years of hero training that he held under his belt. That made him revert into being a comfort for some stranger. but you hated to admit that he did succeed in making you feel better.

Even if he did just hang up on you after.

When you woke up the next morning, you immediately hobble into the kitchen and make yourself a cup of coffee. Deaf is set on finding something new for work. You check your emails on your phone out of habit. Sorting through spam emails. And checking to see if you had anything of importance waiting for you. And sent two hours ago was an email marked important from your manager Riko.

Here it was the dreaded email about how she was letting you go. She didn't even want to be bothered to call you and let you know. Accepting your fate you finally click on it and let it load.

And as you start to read she is letting you know that the mystery man from yesterday gave you a positive review. How she was glad to know that you would be a nice fit for the company if you kept up the good work!

But you blew it yesterday, why would he lie and say that you did well?

You stood at the counter in your kitchen a little flabbergasted by the email. Even more, confused as to why he would do something like that for you, a total stranger. He didn't owe it to you.

You gave yourself a little bit of time to process the fact you still had a job. Before you made your way back to your room and sat down at your computer. Turning it on and letting it start up for the day. Taking your time to fiddle with various things before you had to start work for the day. Fetching your coffee. And a small snack before you hit the button signaling you were officially online and ready for the day.

And it seemed like everything for the next two weeks went great. Your only mishap had been that first unfortunate phone call. Every other person you talked to was tired but nice.

Day after day filled you in on their lives and the things going wrong or right in them. They always thanked you for being a kind and open ear for them to vent to. And to be honest, even when they opened up about their failures. Or infidelity it wasn't as awkward or embarrassing as you initially thought it would be. You weren't there to judge, you were only there to listen.

As much as it left a bad taste in your mouth, you powered through it all. And you even started to feel more confident in your ability to do the job you had been hired for. Each phone call shows you new ways to show compassion to a group of people you didn't know needed so much support.

It was a lonely job, you found out quickly. Long hours and even longer emotional turmoil followed. The work never really stopped for heroes. Something was always taking up their time, be that a mission. Or being stuck at a scene fighting a villain for hours on end.

You understood now just how much it probably meant for them to have a place to vent. Someone anonymous person that they could spill their heart and soul to and get a few things off their chest. Which is why when they told you about the kid they couldn't save, you let them cry it out. Reminding them of all the people they did manage to save. When they admitted to sleeping that one time with a coworker you didn't have the heart to really scold them. It wasn't ok by any means but they all seemed to be touched starved and looking for an outlet.

It was a Friday evening when you were almost done for the day. You had a whopping five minutes left before you could shut down your software and clock out for the day. You had managed to fit in about six people to talk with. So it was been pretty busy for you.

But as you were about to hit the button to take yourself offline. You got the notification that someone was calling your line. And as much as you wanted to ignore the call, your wonderful roommate burst through your door.

"He asked for you! I'm sorry!" She whispered to you as you look over at her in a bit of shock.

Who the hell would ask for you? They didn't even know your name. What defining characteristics could they give the dispatcher in order to get to you? With a bit of a huff, you turn in your chair and hit the button, with your roommate standing close by trying to be nosey.

"Hello?" You greet the person on the other end with a happy tone.

"Bout fuckin time crybaby. Thought you might have quit or somethin'.”

The sound of the familiar gruff voice made your blood run cold, a shiver taking over your body. It was the guy from your first phone call. His voice had been haunting you still even after all this time had passed. Late at night when you were kiting in bed unable to sleep, tossing and turning into the night. His voice echoed in your mind. Berating you and making you feel bad all over again just for the simple fact that you freaked out.

Instantly all over again just hearing the sound of his rough voice. Forces your mind to once again fill with cotton, it was almost impossible to think.

“I, uh. Hello to you too?” You say as more of a question than a greeting.

This was a truly unexpected turn of events. You never in a million years thought that someone would ask for you, let alone be this guy again. You were sure he would have avoided you like the plague. Especially if your first interaction was anything to go by.

“So she does know how to talk.” He says a little sarcasm dripping from his voice.

It was at that moment that you knew you would punch him in his stupid smartass face. If you ever had the unfortunate chance of meeting this man in real life. He was clearly one of those people who took pride in bullying other people. Loud and obnoxious at that!

“Only when people aren’t being rude.” You retort a little too quickly. You hear the soft gasp of your roommate behind you as she inches closer to you. Her desire to snoop becomes too much to shoulder any longer. “But I can almost bet you don’t know how to be anything else.”

No, your time for the past couple of weeks had been far too easy, and this was karma coming back to bite you in the ass. What other reason would this man have for calling you up at almost the time you should be clocking out? If not for belittling you for a second time?

“Oof really got me with that one.” He stifles a chuckle at your words.

It just pissed you off more that he thought you were joking.

“I’ve got a whole lot more I could say, but I won’t because I wasn’t raised to bully people.” You try to mimic his tone.

“Calm down ya fuckin’ crybaby, it was just a joke.” He doesn’t even bother to cover up the fact that he was laughing at you now.

Forget punching him. Murder only carried a fifteen-year stint in prison, it might be worth it. Even with the impulsive thought running through your mind. You tried your best to collect yourself. Even if he was only here to rub salt in your emotional wounds, you didn’t want him to have the stratification of winning.

“Can I ask why you're calling me?” You asked. Turning on the pristine customer service voice you had perfected over the years.

You were over it already. This man had you about three seconds away from just hanging up and clocking out anyway. It wasn’t like the calls were recorded. You could easily lie and say your internet went out or something else happened. You didn’t have to sit here and take verbal abuse from a stranger pro hero or not.

“Don’t come at with that fake personality bullshit, I hate that.” He barks losing his almost giggly enthusiasm.

“You don’t like anything I do, so why would you ask for me?”

You can almost hear him pause on the other end, like the question itself never crossed his mind. Maybe he just didn’t want to admit that he called to give you a second round of grief.

“Ain’t you supposed to listen to me talk? What’s with the game of twenty questions huh?” He snarled into the line.

The fact that you seem to get under his skin even just a little bit made you smile. It was petty and small but you got back at him in some kind of fashion. His defensive tone was too easy to pick up on.

“Sure, what would you like to talk about today?” You ask sweetly. “Bully anyone new lately?”

“I wanna talk about you.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at his answer. Like hell you were going to give him the satisfaction of knowing anything about you. Not that you could tell much of anything, to begin with.

“Like what?” You ask, trying to keep up the overly sweet tone in your voice to set him off a little faster.

“Why’d you start bawlin’ your eyes out on me the other day for starters.”

The question should have been obvious to anyone with ears. He came out the gate being mean and calling you names. Mix that with the fact you were already overwhelmed and stressed. Had led to your slight emotional breakdown. But for the life of you, you couldn’t tell if he was just trying to bait you or if he just didn’t get it.

“Isn’t it obvious?” You snap. “Thought the problem was pretty evident.”

You can hear him huff and move something on his end. Sounded like maybe he was at a desk or something and he was rearranging things on it, maybe a stack of papers or a file. But the more you listened in on the silence on the other end you could hear the faint talking of people. They sounded far enough away that he wouldn’t be heard, but still close enough for you to pick up on their voices.

“Help me out here Princess, I ain't got all day.” The words left his mouth but they didn’t carry the same acidity as yours did.

Maybe he didn’t know why you started crying on him that first day. He just so happened to be the one who lit the match.

“Are you being serious? Or is this just another ploy to mess with me?’ You ask, unwilling to let yourself fall so easily into a trap.

“Just answer the damn question!” He grumbles into the phone.

And as you think for a moment about if you should tell him the truth or not. You can hear the faint clicks of a keyboard along with the crinkle of paper on his end of the line. You ponder on what it is he has to be doing while he is on the phone with you. Letting yourself get a little distracted by the background noise you hear. You have done this for long enough that you can pick up where most people are.

If it was loud, with lots of voices and traffic noises you knew they were on their way back from patrol. If you heard clicks and soft chatter most likely they were in their office. It was rare that you ever received a phone call with dead silence in the background. Though you suppose that with their line of work nothing stays silent for long.

“You there?” He calls out softly, almost like he expected you to have hung up by now.

“Sorry, I got distracted.” You say, and before he has a chance to bark out something rude you decide to indulge him just a little. “It was my first day, and I wasn’t supposed to work solo for another week.”

“Did I make you nervous?”

You can just tell he had a smirk on his face from the way he asked. He wanted to know if you were intimidated by just his voice.

“You were being mean.” You offer as a reason, not that it made it sound any less pathetic.

You hear the soft chuckle he lets out, and the squeak of the leather on his chair as he moves.

“Is that all it takes to get you worked up?” He laughs. “Good to know.”

You had a snarky reply just itching to roll off your tongue, but you were cut off by the sound of an alarm going off close by. And it was almost an instant switch in his voice, the way he went from being teasing to serious in less than a second.

“Gotta go, catch ya later crybaby.”

And without waiting for you to reply he hangs up once again on you. Leaving you sitting there listening to the dial tone of the dead phone line echo in your earphones. And for the second time in less than a month, you are left stunned by his lack of telephone skills.

“Who was it?”

The voice behind you calls out and your shriek when you realize you haven’t been alone this entire time. Throwing your headset off your ears and jerking your body in your gaming chair. Coming almost nose to nose with your roommate.

“It was that guy.” You finally manage to get out, holding your hand to your chest. “The one that made me cry.”

She looks just as shocked as you feel. As you try to force your heart to stop hammering away in your chest from her jumpscare.

“Sounds like it went a little better this time,” She smirks a little. “And he asked for you too!”

Her smirk turns into a full-blown impish smile as she gives you a look.

“How did he ask for me?”

She gives you enough room to be able to push yourself back from your desk and let you clock yourself out. Before standing up and grabbing your set of crutches next to you. She follows you at a slow pace as you walk out of your bedroom and into the living room. Almost flopping down onto the soft cushions of your shared couch, before she joins you.

She was already pulling out her phone and clicking through the dispatch log. Before you even registered what she was doing. A sly smile still playing on her lips as he clicks on a timestamp and hands you the phone.

And as you read the quick set of dialog that they record before each call. You see the words you were dreading finding out.

‘Lemme talk to the crybaby!’

In big bold letters was staring right at you. your roommate falls over with the biggest fucking laugh you have ever heard from her. A tiny snort leaves her when she moves her head to look at your face once more.

Chapter One: The Girl Who Didn’t Exist

Rating: T

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader

Summary: It’s not unusual for katsuki to come home to an empty apartment. It's fine, he’s used to it by now. He was used to the silence and loneliness, the meals for one and the rubbish telly that only drove home the point that he had spent the five years since graduating focusing on his career as a hero and pushing every other aspect of his life to the sidelines.

It had been fine at the time but now he was older, all his friends having paired off with other heroes and Katsuki was faced with the daily reminder of just how much he had given up in his pursuit of becoming the number one hero and just how alone that left him.

Everything changed though the day she turned up in his flat, comfortable, happy and clearly in love with the angry blonde who had never seen her before in his life. She had disappeared in the blink of an eye with a pop, leaving him convinced he had finally gone mad but then she keeps turning up and soon enough Katsuki stops caring if she’s real or not. He’s never felt like this before and he’s desperate to cling onto that feeling with everything he’s got, even if it costs him his sanity.

next ->

masterlist

It’s not unusual for katsuki to come home to an empty apartment. It's fine, he’s used to it by now. He was used to the silence and loneliness, the meals for one and the shitty telly that only drove home the point that he had spent the five years since graduating focusing on his career as a hero and pushing every other aspect of his life to the sidelines. It was a necessity, something he had willingly sacrificed to achieve his dream of becoming the number one hero. He was almost there now, already having broken into the top five and he wasn’t even twenty five yet. Of course it had required sacrifices, what didn’t these days but Katsuki had paid it willingly, more than happy to go without a functioning social life or any kind of relationship that went past a one night stand if it got him closer to that number one spot. He was used to it after five long and lonely years. What he wasn’t used to was coming home and finding a pair of high tops emblazoned with his hero name in the shoe rack right next to where his own boots belonged.

Frowning down at the shoes, Katsuki tried to figure out who they could possibly belong to. They weren’t his, Katsuki was not so cringey that he would own his own merchandise let alone wear it. The only person he knew who would be that nerdy was Deku and though the other man had a key to Katsuki’s apartment his feet were way too big for the dainty little shoes that clearly belonged to a woman. He supposed it could have been Mina, the pinkett having taken shitty hair’s key to come annoy him whilst the other man was out of the city on a job but then again she wouldn’t be seen dead in his merch. She would probably rather walk barefoot across hot coals and broken glass than put those ugly ass things on her feet and Katsuki couldn’t even blame her.

No one Katsuki knew would be stupid enough to come into his home uninvited and start cooking his food. Well apart from the old hag but he hadn’t given her a key and the door was still intact so it definitely wasn’t his mother. Unless she had finally gotten to Deku. That nerd would crack quicker than an egg dropped from a ten story building if his mother started nagging him about how little Katsuki had to do with her recently. It wasn’t his fault he was so busy, the city's vast amount of petty criminals and more ballsy villains seeming to all chose the same two weeks to attempt whatever half baked scheme they had cooked up. He made a mental note to call the old hag and arrange dinner or something after he had dealt with whatever scumbag was in his kitchen. Except it wasn’t some scummy criminal, wasn’t even one of his idiot friends or even his mother. No, what Katsuki found when he rounded the corner was some random chick in one of the tank tops from his hero costume and black skinny jeans who was currently dancing around his kitchen and singing to herself as she cooked.

Katsuki came to a stop in the middle of the living room just staring at the woman in disbelief and mouth half hanging open. She moved around like she had done it a thousand times before, not even paying that much attention as she started pulling plates and bowls out of the cupboards. She looked way too comfortable in his space, bobbing her head along to the music playing out the old shitty CD player Katsuki had on the side and sliding across the wooden floor on her socks. She was alluring, the exact kind of woman Katsuki would pick up to take home with him after a night out, at least physically speaking, who knew what kind of crazy she was hiding considering she had broken into his home and started making dinner.

She shifted, leaning over to rummage in the cutlery drawer whilst keeping one hand on the frying pan, gently moving it to keep whatever was in there from burning and giving Katsuki a better look at her. She was smiling, her plump pale lips curled up invitingly and her eyes vibrant and almost glowing with what Katsuki thought might have been happines. There was something about her, something that had Katsuki’s hand falling to his side and his palm crackling slightly with a few stray sparks. The sudden action had those clear and intelligent eyes snapping over to him. “Hey you,” she grinned, grabbing the chopsticks from the draw before pushing it closed with a soft thud. “I didn’t hear you come in,” she said as she turned her attention back to the pan, using the newly claimed chopsticks to poke at whatever was in there.

Her voice knocked him out of his stupor, Katsuki’s mouth snapping closed as he scowled at her. “Who the hell are you?” he snarled angrily, hands uncurling as he took a step forward, going on the defensive now he was faced with an unknown threat. She gave him an amused look, raising an eyebrow at him as she rounded the table and made her way across the small space towards him. “Ha ha Katsuki, very funny,” she rolled her eyes at him playfully, her smile wide and genuinely happy witch was just fucking weird considering he didn’t have a clue who this chick was.

Katsuki barely had time to register that she knew his actual name before she was upon him, wrapping her arms around his neck, her blunt nails scratching at the shaved hair at the back of his head. She pulled him down as she pushed up and then suddenly her lips were on his. Katsuki’s eyes went wide, a startled noise making it passed both their lips as he went rigid. Her lips were soft against his, her tongue darting out briefly to swipe across his and gently nudge at the seem. It probably would have been a pretty good kiss if Katsuki wasn’t freaking out.

What the actual fuck was happening? Was he hallucinating, so lonely that he had imagined a girlfriend? It felt real though, the slide of her lips against his, the warmth of her hands running through the shaved sides of his hair only to tangle in the short strands on top. The press of her body against his felt solid, tangible, her breasts pressing against his chest as she pushed closer. She felt very real and solid against him and he was hard pressed not to wrap his arms around her and deepen the kiss.

Maybe he had been hit with some weird quirk then, something that had transported him to a parallel dimension where this was his life? Or maybe she was just some crazy fan who had found out where he lived and gotten it into her head that they were a thing? Whatever was happening Katsuki needed to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do now because there was an attractive woman in his home, kissing him like they were lovers and he had no clue who she was or how she had even gotten into his home.

When he didn’t kiss her back the woman pulled away from him, a concerned frown on her lips. Her hands slid down his shoulders, resting over his pecs and Katsuki could feel the heat of her through his thin top making his skin prickle. She was looking at him, really looking at him, her eyes dragging across his face like she was cataloging every little detail about him. It was intense, uncomfortable even but Katsuki was struck dumb, still staring at her with wide eyes as his mind struggled to catch up to what was happening.

Her frown deepened as her eyes settled on his. She lifted one hand off his chest and brought it up to his face, her fingers feather light as she traced them along his brow and down his cheek. “Where’s your scar?” she asked quietly though Katsuki could pick up the edge of concern in her voice. “My what?” he grumbled. What was she talking about? Scar. He didn’t have a scar, well not on his face anyway. Sure he had had bruises and scrapes in the past but nothing so bad that it would leave a scar behind.

Suddenly she jerked away from him, shoving him backwards slightly in her haste to get some distance between them. Her eyes darted around the apartment, clearly looking for something but whatever it was she didn’t seem to find it. Katsuki could see the panic building, though her expression stayed neutral her eyes betrayed her. “Shit,” she hissed, eyes falling to the floor as she shoved a hand into her hair and tugged at the strands.

Frowning, Katsuki took a step forward, his hand reaching out to her as if by its own free will. “Hey are you, erh you okay?” he asked gruffly. Katsuki knew that he had to calm her down, if she was delusional then there was no telling what she could do when her fantasy world started to crumble. It didn’t help that he didn’t know what her quirk was either, all the unknown variables were stacking up and not in his favour. She could hurt herself, lash out at him or depending the kind of quirk she had she could potentially hurt every single person in the building. He needed to contain this and now but there was a reason why Deku normally handled stuff like this and not him.

Her head snapped up at his uncertain words, as if she was only just remembering he was there. Her eyes went wide as they dropped to his mouth, her hands flying up to cover her own mouth and muffling her shocked gasp. She mumbled something behind her hands that he thought sounded like his name and something about being dead but he couldn’t be sure. His frown deepened into a scowl as he took a step forward, his fists clenched at his side and feeling angry and confused which wasn’t a good combination for him.

Katsuki’s patience wore thin quickly, his anger winging out over his rather pathetic attempt to control the situation. “Listen here dumb ass, I don’t know who the hell you are or what is going on here but you have five seconds to explain this shit or I’m going to blow you into next week,” Katsuki growled out angrily, his tone threatening and hands cracking with tiny explosions so she knew he meant it. He didn’t get an answer.

There was a loud pop, like a bubble being burst and then she was gone.

Katsuki stared at the spot the woman had just been standing with wide eyes. The fuck just happened? What the actual fuck had just happened? Katsuki’s heart was slamming against his chest as he began to panic. “Oi, stop fucking around and get your ass out here,” he yelled angrily, eyes darting around his apartment but no answer came. The place was silent, almost like it was taunting him, mocking him for thinking someone else had been there. But there had been someone else here, hadn’t there? Slowly he turned to look at the kitchen and sure enough the table was set for two, a pan still on top of the stove and whatever was in it sizzling away.

Someone else had made that hadn’t they? Katsuki was tired and sure it had happened before where he had been so exhausted that he had just gone through the motions of making dinner without remembering doing it but never had he imagined some other person doing it for him and never had he made enough for two and set the table accordingly. Shit. Was he that pathetic and lonely that he had completely blanked out what he was doing and imagined that he had actually had someone there to do it for him?

He made quick work of getting rid of the extra place sitting and boxed up half of the food to be eaten the next day. He spent the whole night convincing himself it had all been in his head, berating himself for being so fucking weak and pathetic. He needed to get out more, meet new people and he promised himself that he would make plans for his next night off and actually go out for once. He was a good looking guy, he knew that and it wouldn’t be hard to find someone to spend the night with.

It seemed to work, Katsuki having even forgotten about the whole thing by the next morning, writing the t off as a weird dream. He went about his normal routine, going for a run on the machine he kept in the spare room, making a healthy breakfast and scrubbing himself raw in the shower. Everything was fine, just like any other morning, until he went to leave and he found those shitty shoes still sitting in the rack, looking innocent but left Katsuki’s heart racing and palms sweating. He had quickly snatched them up and shoved them into the closet, slamming the door shut and leaning heavily against it.

How could he have imagined it all if those ugly ass shoes were real? And if he hadn’t imagined it then that meant that some random had been in his home, invading his private space and doing gods knows what. It left his skin crawling, knowing that someone had been in his home without him knowing and it left him wondering how many times this had happened before for her to be so comfortable in his space, knowing where he kept everything and acting like she had some sort of right to be there.

He was on edge all morning, watching everyone around him and looking for any sign of his uninvited guest, worried he had a stalker but he never saw even a hint of her. He even went as far as checking criminal and public records for people who fit her description and asking around the office if anyone had seen someone strange hanging around but all it got him was worried looks and no closer to figuring out what the hell had happened.

He knew he should tell someone, knew that the whole situation was weird but he also knew how crazy it sounded and he didn’t want people thinking he had lost his mind. So Katsuki kept it to himself, installing a new security system to help ease his worries and being extra vigilant as he went about his business. As the days went on and nothing else happened he began to relax, once again able to convince himself that it had all been in his head, that he had panicked over nothing. He couldn’t bring himself to open his hall closet though, worried that he would find those shitty shoes still there, just waiting to prove him wrong.

He went out with his friends when Eijirou got back into town. Katsuki even met a girl, a cute redhead to take home that night to help work off his frustrations and stave off his loneliness. Work had quietened down as well, finally getting back to a normal level of villain fuckery so his hours were no longer so draining. Katsuki’s life was back to normal, finally well rested and feeling more settled in himself, he even had a date with the cute redhead to look forward to. All things considered his life was pretty good so it came as a shock when two weeks after the first incident she turned up again, exactly the same way she had left.

It had been 6 months since the incident, 6 months of both you and Bakugou pretending nothing ever happened, with poor Kiri torn between the two of you.

It wasn't that you were fighting with Bakugou, in fact, it was like there were no feelings between you at all. He was polite (well, as polite as he was with everyone else), but gone were the days where you felt like you could go to him for anything.

You're exhausting to love.

Your ex's words, the very words that had been uttered to you a mere 4 hours before Bakugou had confessed his feelings for you, plagued your days.

You couldn't escape them, and you couldn't help but think he must have been right. You'd thought about coming clean to Bakugou, thought about just telling him why you'd pushed him away, but you'd remember the way he had coldly brushed you off when you'd asked what happened to his hand, clearly lying when he said it had happened while on patrol.

If he couldn't be honest, why should you?

The months dragged on without Bakugou's close presence in your life, but it wasn't until one fall day when you'd really realized what he meant to you.

Your boss had made a sly comment about an upcoming promotion, one that required a move to a different city, heavily hinting that the job was yours if you wanted when the time came. You'd laughed and shrugged, telling her you'd think about it.

But she'd persisted, manicured nails pressing your laptop closed as she stared seriously down at you, insisting this job was an incredible offer. And what real reason did you have to stay here anyways?

In that moment, images of a certain blonde popped into your mind, of ruby eyes staring down at you during a movie, of warm hands you had loved to hold.

The realization made you stop dead in your tracks, eyes widening with the realization. You'd made up some excuse not to work late like you'd planned, stomach full of butterflies as you made up your mind.

I'm gonna tell Bakugou how I feel about him tonight.

You'd fired off the text to Kiri as soon as you had arrived home, despite the fact that you knew he was on patrol and probably wouldn't see it for hours.

You were surprised to find the apartment empty, but shrugged it off, resigning yourself to wait for Bakugou to come back, mindlessly flipping through channels.

It was a long, torturous hour later when that lock finally turned in the front door, at the exact time that your phone rang with Kiri's toothy grin popping up on your screen a moment before you silenced it.

You'd hardly stood from the couch when Bakugou stepped through the door, and it took you half a second to realize the grin he donned was not for you. Half a second to realize that he hadn't even looked your way yet, his gaze locked on something behind him.

No.

Not something, someone.

A feminine giggle floated through the silent apartment and your heart plummeted as he stepped in, fingers interlocked intimately with a pretty woman.

She noticed you before he did, shock rooting you to the spot as she waved, already introducing herself.

Bakugou's shock mirrored your own as you stared at one another, the woman blissfully unaware of the sudden tension as she chattered on.

It was like her voice was a million miles away, drowned out by the overwhelming sight of her pressed into his side, her hand on his chest and his wrapped loosely around her waist.

But through it all, cut one sentence, uttered from pretty pink lips that you suddenly could imagine perfectly pressed against Bakugou's, just one sentence that brought your world down around you.

"I'm Katsuki's girlfriend"

Butterflies & Paper Hearts

Requested: YES/NO

Request: Submitted to my old account - hi ok sooooo i have asked numerous writers for this request because i thrive on angst and fluff 👁👄👁 so here goes: a love triangle between draco, harry, and a ravenclaw reader. the reader’s been known to be head over heels in love with draco and giving him origami hearts everyday for a year or two, which he only throws in his trash bin. he usually just ignores her and finds her gestures annoying and laughable. one day, he goes too far with his rebuttals. the reader, heartbroken and realizing she had no chance at all, stopped pursuing him altogether. for the next few weeks, he found himself weirded out that he hadn’t received any origami hearts. while emptying his trashbin, he discovers that when you unfold the hearts, there were little notes of encouragement and sweet letters. just as he was about to confront her, he notices the reader folding something on her table during class and thinking it was finally another origami heart for him. however, it was a butterfly, and she handed it to harry instead. Jajdjeioa PLS MAKE IT ANGSTY AND FLUFFY IT’S UP TO U ON HOW IT WILL END BUT WOULD BE CUTE IF HARRY MADE THE PAPER BUTTERFLY FLAP ITS WINGS THO Ok sorry for the cliche and long request, take your time and stay safe. I enjoy your writing sm 🥺

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader , a bit of Harry Potter x reader but not really

Rating: None

Warnings: ANGST, swearing, 

Summary: Draco doesn’t like you and tries to let you down multiple times, when it finally does work he feels regret wash over him. 

Word Count: 3.8K words

Authors Note: I’m pretty sure I completely deviated from what you wanted, I’m so sorry if it’s not satisfactory :( It’s so cheesy and I feel like I messed it up at a few points but either way I liked writing it, it made me very happy to finally write some Draco fluff again. 

I had to amend the idea a bit to make it work for me, e.g I wrote this in an AU where Voldemort doesn’t exist because I hate mr. no-nose, and I didn’t make the hearts go on for years. 

love you all, jean

PLEASE LIKE, COMMENT AND REBLOG! Writers really appreciate it when you do! Also, feel free to follow my side-blog for fic recommendations and reviews.

MASTERLIST

Butterflies.

Flying. Soaring. Alive.

The first time that Draco had ever noticed you was in your fourth year. You were sat at the Ravenclaw table and immersed in a discussion with Padma Patil, one that had you laughing so hard that you were throwing your head back and wiping tears from your eyes. The sight had knocked the wind out of his lungs, like someone had just punched him in the stomach, and he felt the weirdest sensation in his gut.

It was butterflies erupting.

Seguir leyendo

HI, can you help me find this fic, please. I don’t remember the name but it was bakugo x reader, where he hasn’t been paying attention to her and one day reader dies because of a drunk driver, and like ten months later or something like that bakugou travels in time without knowing it and at night someone tries to enter his house and it was the reader, so he is shocked and  realizes that he has a second chance to save the her

Sorry for any grammar mistakes, English is not my first language 

Edit: hii, I just found the fic

bakugotrashpanda.tumblr.com

Déjà Vu

Hi! Idk if you're taking requests, but if you are, can I ask for a Bakugou/Reader one-shot based the the MV of In Heaven by JYJ? It's an old