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#bnha angst
sprytesukii · 1 day
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you know me (better than i know myself)
bakugou katsuki x reader
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katsuki is hopelessly in love with his best friend until you waltz into his life and warp it beyond his recognition.
rating: mature, 18+, MDNI
wc : 10.4k (holy fuck)
tags : mild to heavy angst, fluff, eventual smut, hurt/comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), afab!reader, unrequited love (not between reader and kats), depictions of mild depression, genderfluid!denki, queer!katsuki, reader has a quirk, oral (reader receiving), p-in-v intercourse, unprotected intercourse (wrap it b4 u tap it pls!), soft katsuki, and they were roommates :0, Not Beta Read, i think that’s it T^T
an: this is the first thing i’ve genuinely written in over a year and jesus it was like i was possessed writing it LMFAO incredibly self indulgent and i had a lot of fun writing it! i hope you guys enjoy it (pls rb n leave feedback pls pls pls)
read on ao3
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the warm light of the coffee table lamp casts a beautiful shadow across the planes of eijirou’s face — his sharp, angular nose, smooth cheekbones, plush lips that form a sheepish smile — and katsuki can’t even appreciate it, not with the absolute bullshit that pours from his best friend’s lips.
“the fuck you mean, you’re moving out?”
the words come out a lot harsher than katsuki intends, but he can’t even bring himself to feel guilty, not even when kiri’s face screws up in clear disappointment.
“well, uh, i told you, this new place is closer to my agency so it makes more sense. the commute’ll be much shorter and, uh…” he trails off then, a pretty pink blush spreading across his nose, highlighting the small spattering of freckles that katsuki is certain he’s the only one who’s ever noticed, a broiling heat setting alight in his stomach.
he feels like he might die.
“and.. kaito finally asked me to move in with him.”
there it is. fuckin’ kaito.
katsuki is far from an idiot — people call him a lot of names (brash, inconsiderate, a righteous asshole), but never dumb. they couldn’t unless they were outright lying.
part of what makes katsuki so intelligent is his observance.
of course he’s noticed eijirou’s late nights, his suspicious absences at group get togethers, the sweet smiles he makes as he taps at his phone screen, the fucking hickies.
bakugou katsuki is not stupid. he’s incredibly observant. especially when it comes to the massive crush he’s been harboring on his best friend for the last three years.
he’s not entirely sure when his reluctant tolerance of the bright redhead shifted to something more but he knows he’s been viciously, painfully pining over him day in and day out in the weeks (months, years) since.
and it’s not like kirishima hasn’t had partners before. he’s nearly impossible to resist with his intense attentiveness, his willingness to go above and beyond for those close to him, not to mention his insane physique, built from long hours out on the field and in the gym.
it’s no wonder katsuki has been in love with him for as long as he has been — eijirou is perfect.
perfectly imperfect, of course. he gets upset when katsuki sorts his clothes for him (“i’m an adult, okay? it makes me feel like you’re parenting me, man.”) or when he lectures him on his diet, or when he shuts him out after being friends for so long (when his feelings become too much to handle), but eijirou’s the only one who’s stayed.
katsuki has tried flings and a few more serious relationships but those have ended quickly because he’s just too much.
too loud. too frustrating. too closed off. too him.
but not for eijirou. never for eijirou.
that’s why when kiri mentioned he was talking to this new guy, he brushed it off. it would be like all the others who would eventually break it off because of the long hours at work or eijirou’s boundless enthusiasm and katsuki would be there to pick the sopping wet, heartbroken kiri off the ground and put him back together. they didn’t deserve him anyway.
but this kaito? apparently katsuki’s eagerness to ignore eijirou’s flings made him blind to what was happening — eiji wasn’t his anymore.
he’s moving out.
he’ll be gone forever.
subconsciously, katsuki realizes he’s been silent for far too long and that eijirou’s face has lost the hurt and is now painted with concern and confusion.
fuck, even now, he’s concerned. he cares so so much, except in the way katsuki craves.
“uh,” kirishima’s gentle voice breaks him from his thoughts, a big hand finding its way to katsuki’s knee, “are you okay dude?”
the touch sears through the expensive black joggers katsuki is wearing and he flinches so hard, he jostles the coffee table to his side. he barely sees kirishima’s brows furrow as he launches himself to standing, the telltale burn behind his eyes signaling the incoming wave of tears.
he can’t see katsuki like this, he fucking can’t.
katsuki marches to the kitchen, opening up the fridge and blankly staring into it while he tries to will the water back into his face and still the turmoil burning in his chest.
it feels like he’s aflame, like he’s suffocating, drowning.
he can hear kirishima’s steps behind him but thankfully stopping a reasonable distance away as he calls his name again, desperation coloring the word.
fuck.
with everything he has in him, katsuki grabs a random bottle from the refrigerator (a smoothie eijirou made for him with far too much kale and too little milk and a little note attached with his name and a smiley face. he’s gonna be sick.) and turns to face him, a strained, shaky grimace painting his lips.
“that’s-“ his voice cracks hard and he desperately clears his throat, blinking hard when he sees eijirou reach out for him and stop. “that’s fuckin’— that’s great. ‘m happy for you.”
the words feel like glass inching their way out of his throat and while he knows he sounds anything but, the words seem to do the trick, kirishima’s face lighting up like a fucking christmas tree.
“that means so much to me, man!” this time, he doesn’t stop himself from wrapping katsuki up in a hug, the full body contact sending a wracking shiver through his body. “and don’t worry! we’ll still hang out all the time and i’ll — yes! — finally be able to introduce you to kaito — you’re gonna love him, and-“
katsuki has to tune him out, if just to keep a hold on his sanity because otherwise, he’s gonna break.
he keeps it together through the rest of the conversation about kaito, tuning in only to give time appropriate grunts and hums while pretending like his entire world isn’t imploding in on itself.
he keeps it together, miraculously, as kirishima packs up his things, the evidence of their entwined lives for the past five years disappearing into cardboard boxes over the span of a few weeks.
he even keeps it together when he meets kaito on the move out date, even if it’s just barely. kaito is handsome — tall, taller than katsuki, with windswept brown hair, bright brown eyes and a dimple in his left cheek. if he wasn’t so fucking in love with eiji, he wouldn’t mind taking a piece out of him, but as it were, the sight of kaito makes him genuinely sick to his stomach.
it’s even worse that kaito is so nice. his quirk is even nicer — some nature type that makes it impossible for plants to die when touched by him. they turn to him like he’s the fucking sun and eiji does too.
by the time all kirishima’s stuff is packed up in the back of kaito’s truck, bile is burning at the back of katsuki’s throat as he says his final goodbye to kiri in the way of a bone crushing hug that doesn’t last as long as he wishes, as he craves.
kiri sends him a blinding smile as he climbs into the passenger seat of the truck, looking all too at home against the worn blue leather seats.
it’s now when katsuki wishes he was a little less observant because the hand kaito gently places on kirishima’s thigh and the subsequent full body blush makes him sick.
he waits on the curb the appropriate amount of time as the pair drive away before racing back into his building, up the stairs, into his unit and straight to the bathroom, kneeling over the toilet and heaving, chills wracking his body despite the sweat on his brow.
nothing comes out (praise whoever above because katsuki hates vomiting) and he slumps against the porcelain, resting his heated skin against the toilet seat.
he thought… fuck, katsuki has no idea what he thought, but he didn’t expect it to hurt this bad. he feels a little like he’s dying and lot like he’ll never be okay again. that kirishima walked out with his heart and all he’ll be for the rest of his life is a walking husk of a human being.
a wave of nausea overtakes him again and he debates leaning back over the toilet, but exhaustion overwhelms him and he falls asleep against the wall of his bathroom, sweaty, sick, and heartbroken.
(the next morning, he wakes up to a pounding headache and two texts from eijirou.
he drinks a shit ton of water first and pops an advil before opening the messages.
EIJI (18:21) : just got to kaito’s! dude it’s so nice i can’t believe ill be living here now ><
katsuki has to take a deep breath to fight against the wave of pain that hits him right in the gut, but he keeps reading, the second text simultaneously warming him and twisting the knife.
EIJI (18:25) : i’m gonna miss you so much kats T^T so weird living without you
he stares at the message until his vision swims before liking the second message and turning off his phone, tossing it onto the couch and trudging to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.)
the next few weeks prove to be incredibly difficult.
a new case is brought to best jeanist’s desk and as the best sidekick at the agency, he’s placed in charge of heading the search and capture of an elusive invisibility quirk villain.
the days are long and exhausting, and more often than not, he doesn’t even have time to miss kirishima or notice his things missing from the apartment — he gets home, makes a barebones meal and collapses on the couch for what feels like a four hour nap until he has to turn back around and do it all over again.
it’s sustainable until it isn’t.
a few too many missed meals and restless hours of sleep has him passing out in a morning briefing, prompting best jeanist to send him home for a mandatory two week “vacation.”
it’s a prison sentence, is what it is.
at home, there’s nothing to distract him from the utter lack of kirishima, from the idea that the one person who has seen all of him and loved him anyway has left.
most days it’s too much to bear, so instead, he sleeps.
the usual tidiness of his space slowly deteriorates as he wastes away, waking only to scarf down whatever is left in his refrigerator before going right back to bed.
his friends text him often — hanta, denki, even fuckin’ hitoshi — but he ignores them all. the texts from kirishima are the hardest to delete, all concerned words and pleas for them to just talk, but he does it anyway.
it’s better this way, he tells himself. this way, no one else is dragged down by his self pity.
izuku ends up being the one to break the streak on day nine of radio silence.
a knock resounds at his door and he ignores it, pulling his blankets high above his mussed blonde hair, effectively hiding him from view as he hopes whoever is there spontaneously combusts or, better yet, just leaves.
when the knocks stop, he believes the latter has just occurred and he sighs in relief, completely missing the sound of metal creaking and his doorknob falling to the ground.
he’s debating on taking another melatonin to find the sweet release of sleep once more when his bedroom door opens up and he startles, launching up out of bed, hands and quirk at the ready to destroy the intruder, but he’s slow, too slow.
izuku is on him in a moment, pinning him to the bed and disregarding his gnashing teeth and cursing to look him over with a detached gaze.
“katsuki,” he says, voice firm in effectively shutting him up, despite the way he wriggles for freedom (so ineffectively, it’s embarrassing), “you look like dogshit.”
a harsh bark of laughter escapes katsuki’s throat and even from his angle where he’s pressed into his pillows, he sees izuku’s expression soften.
“you’ve lost your tact, deku,” he responds, his words gravelly from disuse. izuku scoffs but lets him up, taking a step over a pile of clothes on the ground to lean against the desk opposite of the bed.
with his newfound freedom, katsuki sits up, absentmindedly rubbing his now sore shoulder, the pain oddly grounding. izuku watches the motion with the intense focus he’s carried throughout his entire life, though he’s a far cry from the boy who used to break his bones and cry over injured birds.
now, he’s built like a brick house, forest green curls tapered into a flattering modern undercut, the fat from his cheeks transforming into something more chiseled and adult. his eyes aren’t as soft either — they’re tired and, as he looks at katsuki’s form, tinged with worry.
“where have you been? no one has heard from you in a week.”
katsuki rolls his eyes, looking away from the gaze that pins him, the gaze he tried so hard to get to look at him without fear. there isn’t a hint of fear in them now, but katsuki is afraid there’ll be disappointment and that’s almost worse.
“none of your fuckin’ business,” he grunts out and he immediately knows it was the wrong response. besides eijirou, izuku knows him the best and after all they’ve been through, he doesn’t deserve this.
he never deserved any of it.
with that thought spinning around in his head, katsuki rubs a hand over his face with a quiet curse, leaning back against the headboard.
“fuck, i’m sorry,” it comes out as a mutter, but its effect on izuku is instantaneous. the previous hardness of his expression melts and he moves closer, his bushy brows furrowing together. katsuki can barely look at him but he does anyway, he makes himself. izuku deserves that much (he deserves so much more but one day at a time).
“we’re just worried about you,” izuku says quietly but without pity. never pity. “what’s going on?”
maybe it’s the way izuku’s freckled face reminds him far too much of eijirou’s own spattering of constellations or maybe it’s the fact katsuki hasn’t eaten in over fifteen hours, but he shatters in that moment, crystal tears filling up carmine eyes.
if izuku is startled at katsuki’s sudden change of emotions, he doesn’t show it, instead moving to envelop katsuki in his arms, allowing him to bury his face in the crook of his shoulder and let go.
katsuki tells him everything and by the end of it, his head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and his eyes are puffy and red, but he feels better than he did all week.
izuku just looks thoughtful from his place sitting near the end of katsuki’s bed, the pair parting somewhere in between katsuki’s admission of throwing up when seeing kaito and kirishima together and his accidental confession of stealing one of eijirou’s hoodies from one of the boxes (it sits right under his pillow, but izuku doesn’t need to know that).
“i’m really sorry, katsuki. that fucking sucks,” izuku ends up saying and katsuki’s initial reaction is anger. he spills his heart and guts out to izuku and all he gets is that sucks? but when he opens his mouth to give deku a piece of his mind, he realizes that it does suck. it sucks royal ass and there’s nothing he or izuku can do to fix it - at least not yet - but the acknowledgment, without any attempt to give advice or make everything better, does wonders for katsuki.
he pushes out a watery laugh, his lip ticking up into a smile - for the first time in weeks - and izuku lights up a little. “yeah. it really fuckin’ does.”
the smile izuku sends back is blinding and for the one thousandth time, katsuki is reminded why the symbol of peace is just that.
they talk for a little while longer before izuku forces katsuki into the shower. he takes a long time, letting the scalding hot water turn cold before he emerges to find that his childhood best friend has started cleaning up the mess that has become of his apartment.
katsuki watches on for a moment until izuku raises an eyebrow at him and offers him a trash bag which he takes wordlessly, a wave of affection crashing over him so quickly tears come to his eyes. he blinks them away but he doesn’t miss the knowing smile izuku sends his way.
the pair work together in relative silence until the apartment is spotless and katsuki’s stomach is grumbling something fierce. izuku makes his way to the fridge but is met with nothing but a half carton of eggs and a rotting smoothie in the far corner, a sticky note attached to the lid. he fixes katsuki with a small, sad smile before digging through his drawers for a takeout menu.
when the food arrives, katsuki finishes it in record time and he can’t tell if it’s the fact they remembered to make it extra spicy or if it’s because he literally can’t remember the last time he had an actual meal, but it’s the best thing he’s eaten in a long time.
after they finish, izuku turns on the television and they both spend the evening shit talking a d-list hero film until they fall asleep on the couch, bodies slumped against one another, holding each other up.
that night seems to have knocked something loose in katsuki because the next morning, he wakes with his first alarm and heads to the gym for the first time since his mandatory vacation. by the end of it, his arms are burning from quirk overuse and he’s completely wiped, but he feels more like himself than he has in ages.
he finally texts his friends back (barring one) and they greet him back with high levels of enthusiasm and concern. it feels good to be received back into the fold with the love he’d thought he’d lost, his cheeks hurting with how much he’s smiling as the messages roll in.
katsuki finishes out his sentence and goes back to work on the fourteenth day with an earnest apology to best jeanist and a new lead on the villain after pouring over the case files in between hyperintensive workouts at the gym. best jeanist is quietly impressed, but the squeeze to the shoulder he gives katsuki tells him he was more worried about him than he let on.
the next few weeks pass in a blur, but this time it’s more pleasant. he watches shitty movies with izuku, deletes instagram when he sees a photo of kaito and kirishima on holiday in america, starts attending a pottery class on the weekends he has off with mina and denki, continues to ignore the texts from eijirou that are becoming more and more infrequent as time goes on, smokes with hanta and shinsou one evening and laughs harder than he ever has, and life feels like it’s slowly gaining its footing once again.
he realizes three months after kirishima had moved out that he should probably start looking for a new roommate or downgrade to something more reasonable. he seriously considers the latter, but when he looks at the space he cultivated right after he graduated from ua, he realizes he can’t quite give the place up.
he posts an ad on craigslist that night.
the next time the group goes drinking (kirishima is suspiciously absent, despite his reentry into the country a few days prior — mina mentioned it), katsuki brings up his roommate problem and denki latches on, his cheeks pleasantly flushed from the wine he’s been sipping on.
“oh, oh! i know - i know the perrrrfeeccttt roommate for you,” he slurs, toying with the earring dangling from his ear and fixing his excited gaze on katsuki’s face. “they’re like.. the besttt, dude, you’d - you’d love them.”
the words are vague, but when katsuki opens up his mouth to ask for more details, denki’s eyes widen and he rushes off to the bathroom, a hand over his mouth, nearly tripping over the his platform shoes and maxi skirt.
the topic of the roommate is quickly forgotten then, but it resurfaces a few days later at pottery class.
katsuki is glaring holes into the side of his slightly lopsided vase on the pottery wheel, internally going through the steps to see where he went wrong. denki to the left of him laughs and chatters as he makes his, frankly, hideous ceramic, the clay warped beyond recognition.
something in his one-sided conversation brings his attention to katsuki who’s startled at the sound of his name coming from denki’s mouth.
“yo, you still looking for a roommate?” he asks, tilting his head as a strand of hair falls from the lengthening ponytail at the back of his head. without alcohol in his system, denki looks a little more hesitant to be approaching this topic, but does so when he isn’t met with a howitzer to the face.
the group doesn’t know much of anything, just that kirishima and katsuki aren’t talking, so they tend to tread lightly around the subject. katsuki appreciates it, genuinely, but he’s not going to shatter at the sound of eijirou’s name - not anymore. it hurts still, of course, but the pain has dulled to a steady hum that he can ignore if he tries hard enough.
“yeah,” he grunts, turning his eyes back at his vase. “why? you got someone in mind?”
denki grins, showing off the lightning tooth gems on his canine. “hell yeah! i’ll give you their number — they teach the watercolor class here on tuesdays and they’re so cool.”
he speaks about you with obvious adoration and katsuki belatedly wonders if the two of you are dating, but doesn’t voice this curiousity, instead wordlessly handing denki his phone to put in your contact as “ROOMIE” with what feels like a hundred paint emojis after it. katsuki smiles at his friend’s antics and can’t quite bring himself to change it.
the colorful contact remains untouched for about another week until he gets a rent notice and remembers the little paint palettes in his phone.
in the middle of his morning workout, he taps out a quick text to you, before tossing his phone to the side and promptly forgetting about it.
katsuki [09:27] : Hey. I’m Bakugou. Denki gave me your number. I’m looking for a roommate. You interested?
ROOMIE [10:16] : oh hey yeah i’m interested
ROOMIE [10:17] : do you want 2 meet td
ROOMIE [10:17] : i’m at the cafe on 5th n cherry
ROOMIE [10:17] : in the back
ROOMIE [10:19] : i’ll b here 4 a while
ROOMIE [10:19] : just come whenever
katsuki only sees the message at the end of his workout a half hour later. the number of messages in a row and less than ideal grammar makes him turn up his nose but he quickly taps out an affirmative, before dapping izuku up and heading to the showers.
he makes it to the cafe twenty minutes later, scanning the place to see what he assumes is you tucked away in the back corner, your table full with books, papers, paints, your laptop and at least four empty cups of coffee.
katsuki raises an eyebrow at the sight but walks over anyway, telling himself he’s doing denki a favor by meeting someone he thinks so highly of so he won’t feel too bad when he tells him it’s not going to work out.
you don’t look up when he stops at your table, too occupied with the piece of art in front of you, your face twisted up in intense concentration.
you’re quite pretty, he notes subconsciously, the hard set of your eyes and one track focus reminding him an awful lot of himself when he’s swept into a difficult case. your complete unawareness gives him more time to take you in, though, so he can’t even bring himself to be too annoyed.
you’re wearing a bright yellow chargebolt hoodie that clashes terribly with your garishly pink acid queen baggy sweatpants. a pair of cellophane socks cover your feet where they’re stretched out in the seat across from you and your shoes (made to look like the red ones from deku’s costume, jesus christ) sit haphazardly beneath the table, empty.
it’s such a bizarre sight, katsuki almost laughs — almost — but he doesn’t, instead opting to knock your feet off the chair opposite you so he can sit down.
“a big fan of heroes, huh?” he asks, the action coupled with his words startling you so bad, your knees hit the underside of the table, threatening to upend all the precariously balanced objects decorating the surface.
you look angry at first before you realize who it is and once you do, you just look relieved. it’s an unusual reaction, one katsuki rarely gets from anyone who isn’t actively in danger, especially strangers.
“you scared the absolute shit out of me,” you say tiredly, rubbing a hand over your face and sighing. katsuki watches you recognize your own impoliteness in real time, a sheepish smile spreading across your lips.
pretty.
“fuck, sorry,” you extend a paint splotched hand to him and he takes it, shaking it firmly before it falls back to his side, fingers tingling. “i get super into shit and completely forget where i am. kami gets onto me about it all the time. says i’m prime villain bait or some shit. i think he’s saying it most of the time to freak me out, but he might actually be right. don’t ever tell him i said that though.”
katsuki can’t help but stare at you as you ramble at him with the familiarity of someone who’s known him for months, not just a few minutes. it’s uncomfortable in a strangely nice way and he can feel his muscles loosen as the nerves melt away.
“aw fuck, i’m sorry again. i didn’t introduce myself.”
you give him your name, offering your hand out for him to shake once more which he does with an amused look painting his expression. you don’t seem to notice, your attention being grabbed by the piece in front of you again.
“i’m bakugou,” he offers after a moment of silence. you don’t even look up when you respond.
“i know. you sent me that text, remember? also you’re like, super fucking famous, dynamight,” you look up at him through your lashes, teasing, and heat unexpectedly blooms on the back of his neck.
what the fuck?
in a bid to gain back control of the conversation (and himself) katsuki asks, “what’re you workin’ on? dunceface said you’re a painter or some shit.”
your nose crinkles at the moniker, but you don’t say anything about it, instead turning the sketchbook around for katsuki to look at it.
the piece is stunning, but it’s visceral and he can’t help but lean back a little when looking at it, stomach dropping.
a deer lays on the ground, gutted, blood, guts and viscera pouring out of its abdomen as a figure just out of frame reaches inside and pulls out its heart.
katsuki is disgusted but intrigued and that feeling only amplifies when you press a finger to the painting and activate your quirk.
suddenly, the hand in the painting moves so realistically he flinches — he can hear the deer’s heart beat, can hear the way the blood trickles through the blades of grass, can smell the coppery tang and can feel the rush of spring wind blowing past his face.
it’s like he’s there, in the piece, and he feels both a little sick and also so alive.
“holy fuck,” he whispers, shivering, and you laugh, deactivating your quirk, bringing him back to the real world. the sounds of the cafe flood in, replacing the smell of blood and spring fields with coffee and loose tea leaves. he shakes his head, eyes a little blown when they look at you.
your expression is playfully amused as you bring your sketchbook closer to your person, resting your head on the palm of your hand.
“sorry,” you offer, but you don’t sound very sorry at all, “should’ve asked before i used my quirk on you. not everyone likes that shit.”
the words are so nonchalant but you look like you’re poised to watch him get up and leave, never looking back. katsuki doesn’t think he could leave if he tried.
“nah,” his voice feels raw so he tries to clear it but the feeling doesn’t go away. “you’re good. just surprised me, ‘s all.”
your mouth parts in muted surprise and you tilt your head, appraising him like you’re seeing him for the first time. katsuki feels surprisingly bare as you study him, but he doesn’t drop his eye contact, despite the heavy pounding of his heart from your intensity.
the pair of you sit in silence like that for a moment or two longer before you break it, asking him if he wants something to drink. before he can tell you he doesn’t drink coffee though, you flag down the waiter, ask for a hot cup of tea (“darjeeling or oolong,” you ask the waiter, not even sparing katsuki another glance, “he doesn’t look like he fucks with green tea.” it’s true. he doesn’t. his heart does a stutter step in his chest.) and when it arrives to the table, katsuki asks you to move in with him.
you agree.
the move in process is so quick and easy that when it’s done, it feels like you’ve been living there for years.
your belongings integrate seamlessly into his own. your books about art history and watercolor technique find their way onto his bookshelves filled with classic japanese literature and hero history.
(he comes home one day to see you propped up on the couch with a thick book on the origin of quirks and heroism in japan that you stole borrowed from his collection. he just cocks his head at you when you meet his gaze and you shrug.
“i’m not japanese, i don’t know any of this shit,” you say in way of an explanation. “besides, this is important to you. i wanna learn.”
you turn back to your book like you didn’t just completely shake the foundation of katsuki’s world for a moment and he stumbles off to the kitchen, heat burning at the tips of his ears.)
your plants find their way on every windowsill and while, once upon a time, it would’ve made him think of kaito and that sick, curling jealousy would wrap around his chest and squeeze, now? it just makes him think of you.
(it helps you can’t really keep them alive so nearly every other week the two of you are replanting something new in the pots and vases katsuki makes in pottery class.)
your favorite foods join his in the refrigerator and the two of you take your meals together more often than not. katsuki cooks and you clean, either eating on the couch while watching a documentary or at the dining room table as you talk and talk and talk.
(the first time katsuki misses dinner, you wait up for him, even forgoing your own meal to eat with him when he returns at 2 in the morning.
“don’t do that shit again,” he grumbles when he finds out what you’ve done, his scarlet eyes piercing your own. you shrug, unafraid, tired eyes trailing lazily over his tank top clad form.
“don’t tell me what to do,” you retort after a moment, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips, “i like eating with you.”
your honesty, unabashed and loud, always bowls him over and he has to take a sip of his ice water to feel steady again.)
the relationship between the two of you is easy, for once, and katsuki finds himself looking forward to coming home, to you and your witty comments, sharp intelligence, and your uncanny ability to see right through him.
he swears it must be a hidden quirk, the way you seem to just know — know what he wants and needs without even asking and your accuracy rate is pretty much unbeatable.
after a particularly bad mission where the property damage is unusually high and the civilian casualties match, the leading hero news journalist puts out a scathing piece about him, sending him into an emotional spiral.
you find him that afternoon, curled up in bed, staring at the window blankly. you crawl up in bed beside him and you don’t speak, don’t offer him coddling words of “everything’s gonna be okay,” or “you did the best you could,” because if that was katuski’s best, he doesn’t fucking deserve to be a hero. not at all.
but no, you don’t offer him empty words of placation. instead, you brush a lock of his hair off of his forehead and look at him with that all-seeing gaze, your expression neither soft nor hard, but understanding.
“you’re not gonna let that shit happen again, right?” you ask, tilting your head. katsuki shakes his head vehemently, the mere notion of the same amount of dead bodies on his watch sending a fire through his chest as he sits up.
“fuck no.”
“good. now come here, i painted something new and i need to see if i get ‘good job’ or ‘holy fuck that’s shitty’ eyebrows from you.”
and that’s that.
you’ve even given him a nickname and it inexplicably makes his skin feel tight, like he needs to tear it off and show you, like it’s a display of how you make him feel.
it’s a lazy sunday afternoon, one he’s required to take off by best jeanist, and he’s spent it next to you on the couch, listening to a few of your records while you paint a forest scene, a skittish doe front and center with rivulets of water streaming from beneath it.
occasionally, you’ll activate your quirk and katsuki can suddenly hear birds chirping and the creak of the wood before he’s back in your cramped flat, the sounds of city sounding below.
it’s jarring and yet, comforting, both your presence and the quirk, in a way that still doesn’t make sense to him yet.
“bambi, are you even listening to me?” the term of what he assumes is endearment startles him out of his thoughts and he eyes dart to yours, an amused expression on your your brow.
“who the fuck are you callin’ bambi?” in his shock, he can hardly conjure up the ability to sound pissed, confusion instead hijacking his words, making them come out soft and gruff.
“you, idiot,” you reply, like it makes all the sense in the world. “you’re like a deer to me. something in you is skittish, afraid and yet, you’re still so beautiful.”
what the fuck.
katsuki’s breath completely evaporates from his lungs and he feels like he’s going to pass out at your frank words. it doesn’t help that you don’t break eye contact or look embarrassed to have said something so, so… intimate.
he can’t even begin to parse through how to respond to something like that, but you know that too, flicking a little bit of paint water at him with the tip of your brush. he sees the olive branch for what it is and he grabs it with both hands, the annoyed sound rising from his throat on autopilot as you laugh, but your eyes are still so knowing.
he thinks about that day everyday after with sickening butterflies flapping around in his stomach and those only magnify when you choose to call him the new nickname every single chance you get.
katsuki would not dream of stopping you.
it’s about two months into you moving in with him and he’s going out drinking with the squad. he’s invited you about thirty times but every time you decline, citing that you’re behind on grading art projects and that show you were looking forward to is airing tonight.
(you’re a substitute art teacher at the local elementary school, a fact that genuinely shocked katsuki when he found out.
you’d laughed, wide and unapologetic at his reaction.
“i know i’ve got quite the potty mouth but i clean it up for the kids,” you say, eyes twinkling. “they kinda love me, i think, but it might just be the bob ross videos i put on for them every friday.”)
katsuki chooses not to push but he knows that he’ll end up cutting the night short, just so he can sprawl next to you on the couch and watch you paint.
you seem to know it too (how?? secret quirk, it must be) if the knowing look you give him isn’t enough as he goes to change.
when he returns to the living room, he’s clad in a nice black button down that’s unbuttoned enough to show off the strong planes of his chest and his thin gold chain, and a pair of black jeans that fit him and his tiny waist incredibly well.
katsuki knows he looks good in this outfit, but he finds himself uncharacteristically nervous as he stands in front of you, your eyes dragging down his body as slow as molasses, igniting the skin as though it was a physical touch.
your eyes meet his once again, molten and hot, and katsuki’s knees nearly buckle at the sight. he’s never seen you look like that - not at him, not at anyone, and he finds that he quite likes to be the center of your attention in this way.
“you clean up nicely, bambi,” you murmur, your voice a lower timber in comparison to your normal speech.
the blush spreads immediately to all visible parts of his body and he can fucking see you holding back a grin. “fuck off,” is all he can say before he spins on his heel, grabs his keys, and marches out the door.
it takes everything in him to continue walking, out and up to the train station and then to the bar, because all he wants to do is turn right back around, back to your home and back to that lava-like gaze you pinned him with earlier.
it’s you that’s racing around in his mind when he pushes the door open to the bar, but all thoughts come to a complete, grinding halt when he sees kirishima at their usual table, surrounded by all their friends and grinning like he’d never left.
he looks different - after all, it’s been about a year since katsuki had seen him last. his hair is longer and his roots are grown out, his skin has taken on such a warm glow and it, impossibly, seems like he’s gotten even bigger somehow.
it’s also impossible to miss the black band on his ring finger signaling a new engagement ring which he figures is what they’re meant to be celebrating tonight, eyes belatedly catching on the comically tiny “i’m engaged!” sash hanging around his chest.
the sight of kirishima sends the most heinous bolt of anxiety through katsuki and now he really just wants to call you to come get him and take him home, to make him forget all about his unrequited love. he moves backwards to do just that, but he’s already been spotted by kirishima himself.
fuck.
katsuki is frozen as kirishima’s happy expression falters when he meets his eyes, cycling through shock, disbelief, stark hurt and then utter relief.
he can see the way kiri’s mouth forms “katsuki” from a distance as he puts down his drink and moves towards him, his feet completely frozen until they’re standing face to face (face to chest, really) for the first time in months.
“hey,” kirishima says, hesitantly, breathlessly, as his hands flutter uselessly at his sides, like he wants to just pick katsuki up but is stopping himself. “can we, uh, can we go outside and talk?”
katsuki just nods because what else is supposed to do? and as they move out, he catches the worried gazes of their friends watching the pair of them from the table. denki and izuku, the latter of whom knows the most (everything) and the former who managed to figure most of it out on his own.
(“takes one to know one,” he’d said, bitterly when he’d confronted katsuki a few weeks ago about his unexplained mandatory leave all those months ago. katsuki was confused until kaminari flipped around his phone to reveal a photo of him and hanta pressed tightly together in an embrace that was strictly platonic and yet, horribly intimate.
katsuki’s lips drew together into a tight line as he settled against the brick wall kami was leaning against, trying to light the cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.
“you’re too good for plain face,” he says after a moment, attempting to channel his inner you, blunt and honest. “you’re gonna find someone better.” and just like all his thoughts as of recently, they’d flitted right back to you.
denki had watched his face carefully, cigarette unlit, a thoughtful look crossing his own expression.
“yeah,” he concedes, “i will, won’t i?”)
katsuki gives the pair of them a nod, holding up a hand to izuku who looks like he wants to follow them out of the bar, despite the pounding in his chest and the way he suddenly feels unsteady on his feet as they leave the building to step right back out into the cool, fall air.
kirishima’s stance is awkward and since neither of them smoke, they both just stand there, barely looking at each other and waiting for the other person to speak up first.
“fuckin’ hell- what’d you wanna talk about kirishima?” katsuki grits out, tired of the waiting game and suddenly, immediately, so exhausted. all he wants to do is be curled up beside you, with your all seeing eyes and gentle utterances of “bambi” in his ear.
the tact he’d lost in his haste to get this over with stings kirishima whose brows furrow in annoyance. “what do i want to talk about? i haven’t seen you in a year, bakugou, not since i moved out and you completely cut me off with no explanation whatsoever. i want to know why. what - what did i do wrong?”
his voice breaks on the last word and it sounds so sad, so uncharacteristically eijirou, that katsuki flinches, finally looking over at kirishima to see a broken, pleading man who lost his best friend for nothing more than silly, stupid feelings.
at once, katsuki feels all the fucking idiot asshole he is and it’s staggering how much that thought makes him feel like shit. he could’ve reached out, he could’ve, but he was so worried that he wouldn’t have been able to keep it together, spending time with kiri, and as time passed, the issue became that so much time had passed and he had no idea how to navigate this all over again.
he runs a hand over his face, leaning against the brick facade of the bar. “fuck,” he whispers, gravel crunching underfoot as kiri steps closer.
“i - i miss you, kats,” kiri’s voice comes out quiet and thick, “i got engaged and all i wanted to do was call you, but you weren’t there, you weren’t speaking to me and i-“ he takes a shuddering breath and katsuki’s eyes fill with tears.
“i was in love with you.”
the sounds of the street fade out as katsuki finally turns to look at kirishima, the tears falling down his cheeks.
“wha- bakugou, what?”
“i was in love with you and i couldn’t fuckin’ - i couldn’t do it. not to myself, not to you.”
kirishima face is drawn, pale and mouth gaping. his mouth closes, then opens again, then snaps shut, his head shaking in disbelief.
“why didn’t you - fuck - why didn’t you ever say anything, man?”
katsuki scoffs, the sound wet with grief. “are you shittin’ me? why the hell would i do that?”
kiri shrugs, long, dark lashes sweeping his cheekbones, leaving tiny wet marks. a year ago, the sight would’ve filled katsuki with rabid butterflies, but now it remains just an observation, one made passively and without thinking.
“i should’ve told you somethin’, i fuckin’ know that now, but i was - i was scared. scared of you hating me, scared of losing you. but i went and fucked that one up anyway, so,” katsuki laughs, self deprecating, and kirishima shakes his head vehemently, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him into a tight hug.
katsuki’s throat is tight as he gives into the embrace, burying his face into kirishima’s shoulder.
“you haven’t lost me, kats, and you never will,” kirishima whispers, pulling apart far enough to press his forehead to katsuki’s, red eyes meeting red. “i mean, who else is gonna be my best man?”
katsuki’s eyes widen and he takes a step back. “don’t fuck with me.”
kirishima shakes his head, a wet laugh escaping his lips. “not fucking with you bro. you’re my best friend. i want you there beside me on the happiest day of my life.”
after everything, after the year of no contact and the absolutely shitty way katsuki treated him, kirishima still wants katsuki by his side?
he’s honored, he’s out of his depth, he’s fucking nauseous, and he really wants to go home and tell you.
“i met someone,” he blurts and kirishima looks startled at the change of subject, but takes it in stride, a smile tugging at his face.
“that’s so great, dude, congrats! what’s their name?”
katsuki breathes it out and when he does, he realizes something, the force of it hitting him like a steel beam to the head.
“i think i’m in love with them.”
kirishima blinks, taking in katsuki’s tense form. he looks like he’s about to run away.
“i’m so happy for you, kats. really, i am,” kiri says, before being taken off guard yet again by the hug katsuki initiates.
“of course i’ll be your best man, shitty hair. i fuckin’ missed you too,” he murmurs and he hears kirishima sniffle. “i gotta go but text me and we’ll get lunch tomorrow or some shit, okay? i’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
he pulls away to see eijirou’s big wet eyes stare down at him with unabashed care and love, and katsuki feels his heart swell.
he got his best friend back and now it’s time to get you.
kirishima agrees to the meetup wholeheartedly and lets katsuki go with a hearty pat on the back and a shouted “good luck!” over the sound of the rain that started up during the last moments of conversation before going back inside the bar.
katsuki considers blasting his way to you, but he knows the optics would be incredibly unfavorable and his pr department would have his head, so he races to the train station instead and hops aboard, his mind racing with thoughts of you.
his hair is plastered to his forehead with rain by the time he gets to his apartment building and the button up is molded to his body like a second skin. he’s uncomfortable, of course, but he hardly pays it any mind because before he knows it, he’s unlocking and pushing open the door to your shared flat.
he’s home.
you startle from your place upside down on the couch, your paints and sketchbook cluttering the coffee table at the side while the tv plays an ancient looking cooking show quietly.
katsuki is bowled over by the sight, the weight of what he now knows as love sending him stumbling a little on his feet. he has to hold onto the doorjamb to keep his footing.
you sit up, observing, and you tilt your head. “you’re back early,” you comment, curiosity lacing your words.
he nods, not trusting his voice as finally steps past the threshold, kicking off his shoes and putting on a pair of hideous hawks themed slippers that you’d bought for him on your own birthday.
you hum thoughtfully before standing and disappearing down the hallway, katsuki’s eyes glued to you as you go. he can hear the sounds of you rummaging around in the bathroom, his feet frozen to the floor when you return, a fluffy towel in hand.
“you should shower, of course,” you say with a grin, opening up the towel and draping it over his head to dry it before moving on to the rest of his sopping body. “but i figured i’d keep you from dripping all over that ugly rug you’re obsessed with.”
katsuki doesn’t respond, can’t, and you don’t push or question, instead diligently wiping him down until he’s marginally more dry, eg, not actively dripping on the hardwood.
you move to go dispose of the towel and katsuki’s hand shoots out, not of his own volition, to hold you in place. it’s here he notices how close you’ve been standing to him, your breath wafting over his collarbones.
“bambi?” you question, unafraid of him, just lightly confused, but you don’t move away from him, somehow picking up his need for closeness without him saying anything, and he snaps.
“i love you,” he whispers, the explosion in his chest coming out in just those three gruff words, his carmine eyes boring into your own with an intensity you match.
a small smile spreads over your lips and your eyes light up, joy thrumming over your skin. “i love you too, katsuki.”
it’s perfect and katsuki can’t stop himself from cupping your face and pressing your lips together.
the kiss is gentle and chaste, your hands dropping the towel, coming up to rest on his forearms and holding him in place as you move your lips softly against his own.
katsuki feels like the rest of the world could implode right now, could be on fire or flooding or being overrun by villains and none of it would matter, not a single fucking thing because you’re in his arms and you’re kissing him back and you love him.
these thoughts ignite a hunger in him, a flame stoking in his belly, and he pushes further into the kiss, his hands sliding from their place on your face. one cups the back of your neck while the other slides down your back, pressing you firmly against the front of his body.
he’s almost giddy, having you like this, and he’s sure you can feel it because you’re smiling into the kiss like this is the happiest day of your life.
he thinks it’s his.
you continue trading kisses like this in your foyer, but it only escalates when your tongue flickers across katsuki’s bottom lip and you sigh softly, back arching against him.
katsuki has to break apart from you so he doesn’t consume you in that moment, but you don’t go far (you never do), your foreheads pressed together while you breathe in each others air.
“fuckin’ hell,” he chokes out and you laugh. “can i please - fuck - i need you.”
his honesty shuts you up quick and you nod, biting your lip. “take me to bed, bambi.”
and that he does.
katsuki’s hand finds yours and he pulls you towards his bedroom — you’ve been in there countless times, to watch movies, to nap, to read with one another, but of course, it was never like this.
the tension is thick but it’s not uncomfortable at all. you walk over to his bed and plop down on it like you’ve been in this situation a thousand times. the action soothes any residual anxiety katsuki might’ve had as he walks over to you, your heated gaze tracking his movements the entire time.
“take this shit off,” he grumbles, tugging at the garish all might crewneck covering your abdomen and you swat his hand away with an amused look.
he can feel his pout forming at your smile, but you just shake your head. “don’t tell me what to do, bambi,” but still, you raise grip the bottom of the thick fabric, lifting it up and over your head before letting it drop to the ground, leaving you bare.
or almost bare, if not for the objectively hideous, brightly colored, thin, cheap and lacey dynamight themed underwear covering your body.
“what the fuck is this?” katsuki doesn’t mean for his question to come out so reverent, but seeing you clad in his colors sends a bolt of heat down his spine so strong, he’s quite literally never been harder in his life.
you don’t seem to notice (but you always do), tilting your head at him with a grin playing on your lips. “they were on sale. didn’t think you’d ever see them.”
katsuki’s brows furrow at that, his hands tightening from their place on your hips. “who the fuck else was going to?”
you shake your head, like there’s something he isn’t getting. “no one. it’s always been you.”
“fuckin’-“ katsuki surges for you, claiming your lips with his with an urgency that had previously been lost. you respond in kind and this time, you’re letting out all these quiet gasps and sighs, writhing beneath him. he has to see you fall apart.
he reluctantly detaches his face from yours, kissing down your neck and sucking marks into the thin skin there, one of your hands sliding up to tangle into his hair, keeping him close.
a moan escapes him at the feeling of your fingers on his scalp, nearly getting lost in the mindless action, but he has to keep going. he makes it to your chest, laving his tongue over one of your nipples, flicking the hardened bud with the tip.
“f-fuck, bambi,” you outright moan and katsuki has to grind down against the mattress, his free hand sliding to pinch and pull at your other nipple.
your body can’t figure out whether to arch towards or away from his ministrations, which katsuki takes special delight in. you’re always so in control of yourself, even when you’re not, so it’s beyond rewarding to be responsible for your destruction.
“bambi - fuck - ‘suki, fuck me,” you groan and katsuki’s eyes roll back before he pulls off your nipple with a pop, his lips red and slick.
“nah.”
“nah?” you parrot, leaning up on your elbows with the closest thing he’s seen to annoyance directed at him written all over your face.
“nah. ‘m gonna make you come first.” katsuki grins, feral, and you shudder.
“get to it then, hero.” the moniker, while meant to be sarcastic and biting, just makes katsuki moan, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your (dynamight !!) underwear and tossing them to the floor.
he leans in, propping up one of your legs over his shoulder to bury his nose in the crease between hip and thigh, inhaling deeply. you smell sharp and tangy and so you that he couldn’t stop himself from taking a lick, entrance to clit, if he tried.
you sigh at that first touch of his wet muscle, melting in the bed while one hand remains buried in his hair and the other splays above your head. you watch him move with that intense look and you don’t look away so he doesn’t either.
he doesn’t look away as he slurps loudly at your entrance, tasting the wetness that’s gathered there with a pleased hum. doesn’t look away as he swirls his tongue around your clit, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. doesn’t look away as he picks up pace, swirling, flicking and sucking until you’re chanting his name and “bambi,” your body tensing up as you buck your hips up into his face. doesn’t look away when you cum hard, soaking his lips and chin to which he eagerly groans, slurping up all you have to offer.
you pull him up to stop him from licking you through your aftershocks, kissing him hard once he gets to eye level.
“please,” you beg, eyes wide and urgent. who is he to deny you or himself?
katsuki stands and shucks off his boxers in record time, wrapping a hand around his cock that’s hard and leaking, the tip bright red.
your eyes eat him up hungrily, lingering on the way his precum spills over his knuckles with every slow stroke.
“i’m gonna suck your pretty cock tomorrow, preferably before breakfast,” you comment breathlessly. katsuki has to wrap his fingers around the base of his cock to keep himself from coming in that moment, taking a deep breath and glaring at you when you giggle.
“condom?” you shake your head, leaning back and spreading your legs to show off the wet mess he’s made of you.
“‘m clean and i’m in love with you. fuck me. now.” you can’t even sound commanding, not with the whine lying beneath your words, giving away how bad you want him. how bad you want this.
if the way katsuki’s cock legitimately jumped at your words is anything to go by, he obviously feels the same.
“goddamit, can’t fuckin’ say shit like that to me, jesus,” he rambles, crawling back onto the bed and notching the fat head of his dick into your entrance before leaning down to kiss you, open mouthed and messy.
he pushes into you when your tongue is halfway down his throat and he nearly chokes on it. you’re so soft and wet and velvety — he’s gonna cum so fucking fast, holy shit.
of course, you know it too, know him like the back of your hand because you squeeze even tighter around him and slide your hand down between your bodies to rub frantically at your clit.
“you - oh, god, you feel so fucking good bambi, fucking me so well, always taking care of me,” your words slur together as your eyes roll back, his hips slamming into yours at a quick pace.
he wants you to cum first, wants it more than anything, but the dirty talk coupled with the way you feel clenching around him has him shooting off faster than he expected, a low, long whine leaving him.
his hips stutter against yours and fireworks go off behind his eyelids. it feels like he’s coming forever as he humps into you and that feeling is only prolonged by you coming around him, your cunt clenching so tightly, you force him out, his spend spreading all over your mons and pelvis with a choked groan.
after another long moment, he slumps against you, exhausted and happier than he’s ever been.
you hum contentedly, wrapping your arm around him to pull him half on top of you, your body succumbing to the tiredness that’s so quickly overtaken you.
“i love you, katsuki,” you whisper, the phrase thick with sleep and emotion. katsuki feels burning at the backs of his eyes so he buries his face in the crook of your neck to hide, kissing your shoulder when the words don’t come.
you know, though. you always do.
“fuck, bambi, we’re gonna be late!” you screech from your (now) shared room, the sound muffled from where your head is buried in the closet.
by the door, katsuki is trying (and failing) to tie his bow tie, the red fabric remaining uncooperative in his hands. he groans in frustration, raising a hand to run it through his hair but stopping short when he remembers how you painstakingly fixed it for him a few hours ago.
“i know! it’s this stupid fuckin’ tie!” he shouts back, staring at himself in the little mirror you purchased, smiling a little despite himself when he remembers that trip to the home decor store with you, picking out new items that represent the both of you for your apartment.
speak of the devil, you step up behind him, looking gorgeous in a red, floor length dress, wrapping your arms around his waist.
“you look really good bambi,” you grin, fingers dragging down his abdomen to rest on his waistband, but his hands stop your downward motion while he gives you a halfhearted glare through the reflection.
“don’t start that shit,” katsuki turns around in your hold to face you, your hands immediately finding his undone tie. you work efficiently, face so scrunched up and focused that katsuki can only lift your face to press a kiss to your lips.
you melt, kissing him back easily and when you pull away, his lips are tinged with your lip products, marked by you. “you have a little something…” you trail off, wiping it away, not realizing how he stares at you like you’re the sun and he has no other choice but to revolve around you.
“marry me,” katsuki blurts, heat burning at the tips of his ears after a moment of you looking at him in utter disbelief.
he worries for a split second that you’re going to say no, but then your face splits into the most blinding smile he’s ever seen.
“are you proposing to me right now, bakugou katsuki?” you tease, fingers toying with the tie around his neck.
he nods, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer to him. “so what if i am?”
you laugh and nod, tears filling your lash line as the lighthearted facade drops to reveal you, earnest and honest and so so in love with him.
katsuki has no idea how he got so lucky, what he did in a past life to have you in his life and agreeing to be with him, in his life forever.
“of fucking course, i’ll marry you,” you say, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. “and i want nothing more than to make love to you on our brand new ikea sofa, but if we’re late to kiri’s wedding, he’s gonna kill me and make you watch.”
even the empty threat you make through your happy tears centers you in katsuki’s life, like you know that you are the center of his world, of his entire universe. you always know, know him better than he knows himself and there isn’t anyone on this whole earth who he’d rather be with than you.
he doesn’t tell you any of this though, blinking back tears instead and agreeing with a laugh, before finally ushering the pair of you out the door.
the thing is, katsuki doesn’t have to tell you.
you already know.
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sinfulpanda16 · 3 months
Text
CheatingHusband!Bakugou who knew his world was over when he made direct eye contact with you while another woman was naked underneath him. Panic washed over him when you turned around and started running.
CheatingHusband!Bakugou yelled at that other woman to get the fuck out and went to you for forgiveness. He was on the ground tears falling begging for you to not leave. He didn't care how pathetic he looked all he cared about was not losing you.
CheatingHusband!Bakugou who didn't earn a forgiveness from you but did earn a second chance. Relieved and happy he gets up and goes for a hug, but you push him away, it's ok you need time and he understands.
CheatingHusband!Bakugou is working hard to earn your trust again. He's a lot more gentle with you, careful not to overstep any boundaries and shows his respect for you. He tucks you in bed and gently strokes your hair and then kisses your head, "Goodnight baby" he'd say with a soft smile before going back to his place in the couch.
CheatingHusband!Bakugou who started forming tears in his eyes hearing you say what everyone else has been saying. You deserve better. With clenched fists and teary eyes, he sighs and looks away. He let you go because he loves you and that's what you do when you love someone.
CheatingHusband!Bakugou thirteen years later who saved a little boy from a villain attack and brought him to safety. The little boy runs towards his parents where Bakugou catches a glimpse of the mother and the father. The mother looks very familiar and that's when he realized that it was you.
CheatingHusband!Bakugou who stared at the family with wide eyes. The little boy ran into you arms crying, you picked up your son and held him tight with tears in your eyes. The boy's father went in and held both of you.
CheatingHusband!Bakugou who laid in bed looking up at the ceiling that night and started shedding tears as he remembered the years with you. He missed them and he still loved you and he realized you were the one who got away.
a/n: I know I'm all about writing comfort fics but I've had this idea in my head for a while and wanted to write it ^^
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sorrowfulrosebud · 5 months
Text
The soft grass underneath you and Katsuki provided comfort as the two of you laid close together, hands encompassed tightly as your shoulders touch.
Both pairs of eyes focused on the stars above you, yet your peripherals were trained on the other. You had managed to sneak away from the dorms in an unplanned rendezvous after curfew, knowing that Aizawa was gonna ground your asses. But, that was future you’s problem.
“Katsuki?” You asked softly, rubbing your thumb on his hand. Katsuki looked at you and let out a small “hm?”.
“Do you think… do you think we’re together in every universe?” You turn to look at him, your cheeks warm and gaze soft as you peek a gaze at your docile boyfriend.
His eyes widened a second before he pushes your cheeks close to his lips, pressing a feather light kiss before nosing your jawbone. His arm snakes under your neck as his large hands caress your shoulder, the other reaching your waist.
“Either way, I’d cross every damn universe there is and join us together. We’re the perfect couple in every dimension, universe and plane. I’d be stupid not to chase you,” he promises, squeezing you tighter to star gaze with you.
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The heavy metal of Katsuki’s armour proved too heavy for him to relax in, so it was left in a heap in the corner. The head knight had personally assigned him to be your royal guard, and the mutual (but forbidden) affections bloomed.
Carmine eyes were soft for once as his hair was gently pushed out of his face. His weary head rested in your lap as you held his calloused hand, pressing the occasional kiss. Your crown had been ditched, not caring for the silly trinket as you soaked up your lover’s attention in your chambers.
“Your majesty?” Katsuki coughed, cheeks growing slightly pink. You hummed in acknowledgment, slowing your movements as a silent means to continue.
“Do you think that, I mean… I’m not exactly of royal stature. If we were lovers in another universe, or if I were royalty and you were my bodyguard, would we still have this bond?” Katsuki asked, voice hushed as you petted him.
You gave his hand a kiss, before bending down and pressing your lips to his.
“Katsuki, even if we were two lowly peddlers in the street, or if you were a royal and I was your servant, then I would still pine after you until my dying breath,” you affirmed, softly petting his cheek.
“I knew you would say that, princess. It just hurts that somewhere, there’s a bastard me who gets to live our dream life without secrets.”
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Katsuki trudged through the door, toeing off his boots as he enters the carnage of the house. You looked so tired as you had managed to wrangle the quadruplets into their afternoon nap.
Despite the baby food in your hair, bodily fluids and coffee stains on his your ratty old T-Shirt, you had never looked more beautiful. You were at home, taking care of the babies YOU gave him, taking care of the home YOU wanted to provide for your family.
He owed his very existence and life to you, so he can feel his heart breaking as he sees you quickly wipe your exhausted tears. You smile wanly at him as you go to give him a hug, but grimace at the idea of hugging him in your current state.
“Oh I’m sorry baby, I look a mess right now. I’ll go clean up for you so I don’t look so gross,” you say, ready to go upstairs.
As you pull away, Katsuki pulls you tighter and kisses you firmly. Your resolve begins to crack as he feels you tremble in his arms.
“Katsuki, no. I’m filthy at the moment, you deserve better-,” you start as he shushes you.
“Baby, you could wear a bin bag and look better than any model in the entire world. You’re doing amazing to take care of our babies and do everything else,” he murmurs into your ear, fearing that if you tried pulling away then you would completely crumble.
“You’re working so hard though, you’re saving people’s lives and I’m here crying over a few toys on the floor, baby food in my hair and snot on my shirt,” you whimper, burying your face into his beefy chest.
“(Y/N), you just pushed 4 babies out of you. You quit your job so that our babies wouldn’t be left with strangers. You still manage to get the house tidy, but you know I only give a damn if you and the babies are alright. On top of that, you manage running any of MY errands that I didn’t manage to do. You’re a fucking superhero baby,” he murmurs, squeezing you tighter.
“But you deserve so much better! You deserve someone who has time to put makeup on and do their hair and, and-,” you were interrupted by Katsuki shushing you.
“Baby. I would choose this life over and over again, no matter what I was offered. I will always choose you, I will always find you, I will always want you. I’m taking time off work to prove that and we’re taking a holiday together,” he said firmly, wiping your tears as you hiccup.
“I’m always going to choose you too.”
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Katsuki and you sat comfortably on your porch bench, occasionally swinging as you nestled into each other. Today marked your 50 year anniversary, and the two of you chose a quiet celebration.
You had lost a lot of friends over the years; some were lost in villain raids, and some succumbed to their injuries years later. It wasn’t until Kirishima passed from a heart attack in the field did Katsuki retire, choosing to live the rest of his natural life with you. No more hero work. No more pain. No more villains or heroes. Just you two in your little country home with your chickens, cats and dog.
“Would you ever do it again?” Katsuki asked, his mouth lines trembling a little.
“Do what, sweetpea?” You ask, rubbing the soft loose skin on his hands. Katsuki sighed and looked away.
“Would you ever consider a different person? I’ve only ever caused you harm. My work, my personality, my overall being,” he asks, looking away as his mouth twitches. You let out a small “oh”.
“Never in a billion million years, my love. I chose you for a reason. I chose you because I love you, despite your flaws. We have had such a wonderful adventure together, some good moments and some bad. You’ve gained and lost a lot too, Katsuki. You’ve lost friends, mentors, family…” you reason with him, heart breaking at his shiny eyes.
“When it’s my time, I want to know that I made you utterly happy. I don’t want to leave you knowing that if you could have, you would have never had met me, never spoken to me and not have to deal with my baggage. I want to proudly say I lived my life fully and without regrets. YOU’RE my life baby,” he sobs softly, years of self-loathing catching up to his old and creaky body.
You wove your bodies tightly together, holding each other as the two of you shed loving tears together in bliss.
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“Katsuki? You okay, pup?” Katsuki’s sandy ears perked up as he sat upright in bed. You knuckled your eyes out of sleep as you looked at your mate. He was often plagued by nightmares, even after falling deeply in love with you, after being abandoned by his pack.
You, ever the kindly human, took him in. Fed him, sheltered him, cleaned his wounds. 2 years later and you were his mate, sole confidant and lover.
Katsuki panted a little, before snapping his head to you. His hackles were raised, teeth bared self-consciously as he tries to calm down. You held up your hands, showing you mean no ill will. Slowly, your hand extending to your mate’s ears, rubbing the soft spot between them as he closed his eyes and slowed his breathing.
“Hmmm, thank you,” he muttered lowly. He rearranged himself on the pillow so he could face you. You smiled at him and kissed his nose, giggling when he goes cross-eyed.
“Do you want to tell me what you dreamed?” You asked quietly, petting his cheek as his tail whomped against the mattress. He huffed.
“Jus’ a stupid nightmare, nothing special,” he muttered, grabbing your hand and kissing your palm.
“I’m here if you need me, pup,” you told him, getting yourself comfortable again, trusting he would tell you.
“… my old pack got you. In my dream. We had a stupid argument, and I hurt you. You were killed,” he said quietly. Almost full of resentment. Your eyes widened, prompting him to continue.
“Are you happy with me? I mean, for fucks sake, I’m a fucking wolf-man creature and you’re a human. Our relationship is as unnatural as nature can allow, but we still play house,” he ranted lowly, fists clutching the sheets.
Your hand found its way to his, interlocking your digits and being mindful of his claws. Sandy ears pricked your way as you stroked his chest.
“I don’t care that you’re half man, half wolf. I love you for who you are, not what you are. I was aware of everything that you’ve faced, and I still chose to take you in. And I would do it a million times over,” you said firmly.
Katsuki let out a shaky sigh, before nuzzling into you.
“I hope in every universe we’re together.”
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angelshimaa · 5 months
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━━ 𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐑 ;; 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈
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✧ cw :: gn!reader, angst + comfort (bc y'all asked nicely), reader cries a little :), it's a part two to this (please read first) !!
✧ a/n :: @ka0ila & @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory + the ppl asked for a pt two, so here it is !!
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“you're late.”
you nearly jump at the voice, not expecting any sounds to come from the dark place, way too cold to call home. you only note the laziness of his words, and how deeply they come from him.
it's past his bedtime, and he's exhausted. the hurt part of you hates how deeply his mannerisms are engraved into your mind.
you walk towards the stairs, determined to make it to bed without sharing a singular word with him. it's then when you see his figure sitting right there, blocking your path.
“where were you?” the red of bakugou's eyes is tinted darker, more bloodshot as he looks at you. you hope your own aren't as red after having cried your soul out at mina's. you half wish you'd accepted her offer to crash there for the night, for you didn't know how exactly this night could go.
“away from you. isn't that what you wanted?”
the response nips at him and he remembers the words he'd spat at you. you watch how he plays with his hands, smoothing over the rough skin and the thought is almost hilarious— he looked nervous.
“i— i didn't mean it, y/n. any of it. i was angry— and i'm sorry.”
while you were burning in hurt and rage and bitterness and overwhelming sorrow as mina hugged you, you'd listened to your heart beg him for an apology. and now, after it being thrown out, it doesn't hold the same weight as you'd like.
“until when, bakugou?” he winces at the use of his last name— he was never ‘bakugou’ to you. “you're sorry until something goes wrong at work again? you're sorry until i ‘start yapping' again? until you can't stand to look at my face?”
while he can't look you in the eyes anymore, let alone answer you, you feel the lump in your throat solidify.
“move out of the way, bakugou. i need sleep.”
you climb up a step, and the only movement bakugou makes is to stand up.
“y/n, please. please— stay.” the fragility makes itself known in both your voices and you're too tired— your heart is too heavy to fight, to protest.
“ba— katsuki, i'm tired. you yank me about at your will, and i'm so tired. all i've done is stay— endure— and all it has gotten me is here.”
he inhales sharply at the sorrow in how you say his name and it shatters him to see just how hopeless you look— all because he can't keep his damn temper in check.
“i'm sorry. please, i'll— i'll do anything— just don't leave. i'll get help, i'll come home earlier— i'll listen. just, one more chance, please.”
moments pass and the tears well up looking at his face, the prettiest face you've ever laid your eyes on. it pricks at you, watching him ask so softly.
you're weak, and you're so helplessly in love with him.
“i only have one more chance in me to give.”
bakugou exhales, moving slowly toward you. it's when you feel his arms wrap around you for a hug, that you feel your muscles ease up for the first time in so long. your own arms wrap around him, hands grasping at the back of his shirt, and he clings onto you like his life depends on it.
the smell of him— of home— is what causes the tears to finally fall. his shirt catches them and you nuzzle more into him, the thought of letting go seeming unfathomable. you can't remember the last time he'd touched you, let alone held you so close, but you try and hold onto what it feels like. what being at home feels like.
katsuki shuts his eyes, keeping his tears in. as he whispers his apology, he swears to himself he'll never make you cry so much again.
it's the sound of his heartbeat that stops your tears and lulls you to peace, and the warmth seeps back into your home that allows your broken hearts to mend in silence.
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✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated <3
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angelltheninth · 7 months
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BNHA Men when You Have A Near Death Experience During a Mission
Pairing: Izuku Midoriya, Bakugo Katsuki, Shoto Todoroki, Eijiro Kirishima x Reader
Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, nightmares, cuddles, sneaking around, literal sleeping together, life affirming kisses, crying
A/N: Time for some angst! Hope you're ready to get punched in the feels.
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Izuku never wanted to see you like that, on the ground and bleeding, broken. You can feel his tears falling onto your face, you can hear his cries, telling you to hold on that you'll be okay, you'll get fixed up in no time just hold on. In the following days he can't let go of the sight, his mind won't let him forget seeing you like in that state. When you get out of the hospital you notice that he's more quiet then usual, still sticking close to you but unsure what to say to you. If he was stronger then maybe you he could have watched your back better. So... will you train with him? Like a date. It's odd to count that as a date but he was always a weird boyfriend, in an adorable way.
"It might be sudden, you just got out of the hospital but I really want to get stronger. I haven't been sleeping well since then, every time I close my eyes the nightmares come rushing in. I want to get stronger, be able to stand by your side. Then, do we have a date?"
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Bakugo is the guy who will blame himself for you getting hurt but he will do it in the angriest way possible and actually make it seem like he's blaming everyone else. Needs to carry you to the hospital on his own, even if he himself is badly injured. If anyone so much as tries to touch you he will get aggressively protective, holding you closer to his chest in retaliation. The moment you open your eyes his mouth is on yours, his hands cupping your injured cheeks with the gentleness most doubt he could possess. He can't stay for long but for the time he can he doesn't want his hands to not be on you, he needs to know that you're okay.
"Fucking messed up back there. Don't give me that, you know I did! You could have died you idiot! Look... I'm not the best guy but you... you bring out a better side of me, I don't want to lose you. I can be sappy when I wanna. Keep your mouth shut about it or I'll shut it with mine."
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Shoto never wants to know what it feels like to lose a person he loves. There have already been so many close calls in his life, and now it's happening again. You keep telling him you'll be fine but how can you say that when you're loosing so much blood. The hall outside of your room in the hospital is in a constant flux of too hot and too cold because his emotions are all over the damn place right now. Seeing you awake calmed him down a little but it's not until he feels your hand in his pulling him next to you and letting him listen to your heartbeat that he truly calms down. It's a little cramped in the hospital bed but if you don't mind it then he'll stay like this.
"How could it have been worse? You almost died there. I never want to think about a worst outcome. I want to stay by your side forever, I want to go to sleep and wake up while listening to your heartbeat just like I am now. In a bigger bed of course."
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Eijiro had never been so angry in his life. At those who almost killed you yes but also at himself. He's your boyfriend, he should have payed more attention to what was going on around the two of you. Now you're bedridden in a hospital, unable to move without it causing pain. You'll heal but what happened will always haunt his mind. Because visiting hours have their limits he thinks it wouldn't be a problem to sneak in through the window, bring you flowers and snacks to make you feel better. You spend many hours talking, kissing, even long periods of silence. He eventually falls asleep in his chair and in the morning has to run right as he hears the door handle turn.
"Brought you flowers and your favorite snacks. I don't want you eating yucky hospital food. Are you doing better? Did you... see me when you... sorry, I don't like being that way, but when I saw you like that I lost it. I will smash through anything and anyone to keep you safe."
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tteokdoroki · 8 months
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✩࿐TRACK 01: RIGHT HERE. katsuki bakugou (2K)
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about. leaving katsuki bakugou was the hardest thing you’ve ever done. pretending that you no longer love him every time he calls is even harder.
warnings. minors and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, slight angst, fluff, hurt-comfort, happy ending, break ups, mentions of harassment, exes to lovers, pro hero + fem!reader, pro hero!bakugou.
things to note. yay !! the first fic of the series !! idk im really excited about these and they were super fun to write. i hope you guys enjoy <3 - masterlist / series masterlist / playlist ✩
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leaving katsuki was probably the hardest thing you’ve had to do in all your years of living. 
being one another’s first loves, you feel like you owe a piece of yourself to him. the relationship that you founded together leaving high school had taught you so much, about yourself, about him and about how the world worked. it was comfortable with katsuki, he knew you liked the back of his own hands — what made you smile the way he liked, what made you laughed in the way that made his stomach twist with a joyous emotion he didn’t even know he was capable of, what made you squirm and what made you pissed off, too. 
and as you navigated the challenges of adulthood, grew into your lives and yourself — stretched the skin around your bones to spread your wings you realised that overtime, katsuki made you sadder than he made you happier. you made him feel angrier than he made you feel calm.
neither of you were prepared to let go, holding onto frayed ends of a love that had built up your confidence and set you on the course for the rest of your lives. but to say it ended on good terms would be a lie too. you needed an out and took the first one you saw, a friend on the other side of the country was starting an agency on their own and needed a partner. you knew it would hurt bakugou more than anything, so perhaps, that’s why you did it. 
you left in the middle of the night to fulfill the dream you and the blonde had come up with together — with someone else. 
of course, leaving him behind wasn’t easy and it still isn’t. cutting katsuki completely out of your life wasn’t a viable option and at least not for long, three months after your big move he came across your agency on the news following a huge rescue and shift in the hero rankings. katsuki was proud of you, he missed you, dialled up your agency to tell you himself and for some reason you found yourself clinging onto his every word not knowing that he felt the same.
you couldn’t forget about him, your golden boy and his golden smile that made heat spread through all four chambers of your heart and blood rush through your ears to the point where you were dizzy. bakugou was your day and he was your night, each of you taking turns returning from patrolling shifts that ran late for two semi-pro heroes like you — practically running into one another’s arms.
in another universe, it would still be that way for the both of you — but katsuki was bad for you, and you inevitably worse for him. even if you’d found new soil to settle your roots in, you secretly hoped that bakugou would come find you in every single timeline, every single world either of you existed in. 
maybe that’s why you kept in touch despite the dates you went on to get over him. maybe that’s why emails turned to texts and texts turned to phone calls that centred around reminiscing the past — the songs that you shared and the plans that you made. together. 
“how’s that boyfriend of yours?” bakugou grunts absentmindedly, the gruffness of his voice evened out by the static on his end of the phone. from the corner of your eye, you watch on the screen  as he slips through your old kitchen easily — knowing where everything is, knowing that he used to pin you up against those counters, knowing that he used to corner you while making coffee and...
you shake your head, popping it into view so that the blonde can see you roll your eyes in mock annoyance. “he’s not my boyfriend… just a friend from work.” you still have no idea why you lie to bakugou like that, actively pretending that your dating life isn’t flourishing. you tell yourself that it has nothing to do with the fact that you still want him. even though it never works out when you lead each other back into bed whenever you get the chance. “what are you making?” you ask, to distract yourself. 
“he likes you though.” katsuki returns from the fridge and steps into frame to show you the pack of tofu you know that he likes to cook with. you could have probably found it in your local convenience store with your eyes closed at this point. but you didn’t want him to know that you still remembered all of the little things about him. his likes, dislikes, hopes and dreams. “s’that tofu recipe fuyumi gave me back in high school. the one that makes ya—“ 
“the one that makes me shit my guts out, yeah. thanks for the reminder, bakugou.” you huff, glaring at the phone and wander into your own kitchen, subconsciously. probably to feel a little closer to your ex. “he doesn’t like me. how would you even know that?” 
“hah? bakugou? what happened to katsuki?” 
“don’t change the subject.” 
the swell of bakugou’s lush lips press into a thin line and you can just about make out his pout as you set the phone down to make yourself a fucking drink because you really can’t do this. you hate that you still seek him out in your darkest hours, when you’re alone in this city and it feels like the world is slowly turning against you. 
you’d turned off your television hours ago to avoid hearing the news. deleted the social media apps off your phone, too. called bakugou to fill the silence of your home with something soft, familiar like the deep depths of his voice. he provides a distraction that the chaos in your brain recognises, watching katsuki cook in that same old flat you rented right after going pro soothes the tensions in your body. 
his tatted arm with the sleeve flexes as he skilfully wields the sharpest knife from the set you gifted him on his twenty first. his crystallised ruby eyes squint and his nose scrunches in that adorable way as he reads the cooking instructions on the tofu even though you know that bakugou knows how to prepare it off by heart. 
all of these little things about katsuki make you feel at ease even though you’re worlds apart and taking your lives into different directions. 
“what happened today wasn’t your fault,” his timbre voice was over the line, grasping at the straws of your attention. you hadn’t realised you’d been zoning out when katsuki snaps his fingers at you. “quit that. ‘m talkin’ to you.”
“don’t snap at me, i’m not your dog.”
katsuki looks like he’s about to make a comment, but refrains when you scowl at him over the FaceTime call. “yeah but you weren’t listening to me, i know why you called me. saw it on the fuckin’ news, but i wanted you to hear from the resident fuck up that this’ll all blow over. the media is just shit.” 
even through bakugou’s brashness he still helps you lick at your wounds like you’re still his. “i hope so,” you sigh quietly and pick up your phone so that you can get a closer look at his expression, concern etched into his features. “being a pro hero decking a fan in the face doesn’t exactly instil confidence.” 
“he was a creep who’s been stalkin’ you for months. he fuckin’ deserved it. if you hadn’t,—“
“dynamight would’ve, my hero.” even though your tone is sarcastic, bakugou can tell that you’re thankful, that you mean it. he never liked that you were always one to suffer quietly, let the world walk all over you as if you weren’t worth standing tall and being proud of yourself. in some ways, the blonde wanted to be your hero — not the world’s. he wanted to stick up for you where you couldn’t even if he was defending you from yourself. 
you hated him for it, he loved you through it. perhaps that’s why your relationship was always falling from grace.
bakugou knows that you’re struggling to keep it all together, lock up all your troubles and throwing away the key with the hopes of never seeing them again. he knows that you carry that weight and that you’ll collapse if there isn’t someone to help you bear the burden. 
so he tentatively reaches out, metaphorically crosses that line you’d drawn after ending things, because you’re in need. “yanno, if you need me, i’m right here.” 
it’s like his words have snapped you back into reality, and you shoot him a look over the call. “katsuki, you shouldn’t say that.” 
“why not?” he quips — you almost miss it over the sound of his food sizzling as he begins to cook.
“we’re not together anymore… we’re broken up. it’s weird.” 
“it’s not weird to look out for friends.” bakugou snarls gruffly, though he’s all bite and no bark — mostly embarrassed by your rejection. “you think just ‘cause ‘m not callin’ you mine and giving you head every night anymore, i don’t wanna be here for you?” but of course he still finds a way to make the conversation go lewd, to fluster you. “i told you that wouldn’t change. broken up or not...what? what’s with that face. don’t make that face, sweetness.”
a hand comes up to mindlessly touch at your face and brush over your lips, you don’t even realise that you're pouting. 
“katsuki i’m serious.” you say, whining like a child. 
“and so am i.” your ex mumbles right back and you can see his tongue running over his teeth from behind his plump lips — just barely holding back a cocky smirk. 
“you’ll only make this harder.” 
“we’ve never been easy.”
“we’re supposed to be moving on from each other.” 
“you’re the one who called me, sweetness.” 
“that doesn’t mean—“ 
“you miss me.” bakugou has always been brutally honest but that doesn’t mean you’re prepared for him to hit you with the truth. it’s like a punch to the gut that makes the world start spinning and your heart stop beating. you do miss him, you always will — he’s all you’ve ever known even if it’s been years since you last embraced his love. what you have now has teetered on the blurred line of friendship and love, it’s far from normalcy. but tonight you feel like letting yourself fall a little harder, return to your old ways. “s’okay. i miss you too.” 
static echoes between your phones during the call, breaking the pocket of silence yourself and katsuki find yourself basking in. 
“you mean it?” you question the blonde tenderly. the world has been so tough on you lately, you’re not sure if you could handle bakugou breaking your heart again. or you breaking his. “you’re not just…playing with me like you used to.” 
“i’m being serious, sweetness.” you can tell that he means it, genuinity etched into his voice as it reverberates through your kitchen. “i’m by your side through everythin’, thick ‘n thin just like i promised.”
“yeah well so am i.” you mock his little quip from earlier and it makes him smile — brightly, the corners of his lips just touching his ears and the red in his eyes shimmering with a familiar affection you truly have missed so much. promises were easily broken, but bakugou’s made good on every one that he’s ever made for you. including this. “katsuki…” 
he tests the waters, dipping into your old routine with an air of hope about things. “yeah, baby?”
“will you come see me?” you bleat, picking up the phone as if it’ll bring you any closer to him. “i need you.” 
“if you need me, i’ll be there.” bakugou whispers without missing another beat. 
he doesn’t care what he has to do, what either of you have been through — you called because you needed him, because the world had put you on your knees and you were losing yourself in the mess of it all. 
katsuki bakugou books the next flight out to see you, intending to keep his promise to you.
no matter what, for you, he’ll always be right here. 
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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kaidabakugou · 1 year
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calling katsuki after a villain attack while he’s away on a mission in another country
blood is seeping from your sides and you can barely see anything from all the debris but you try your best to bite down the pain as you crawl to rest your back against a fallen wall, reaching for your phone to call him as chills starts to prickle up your skin from the cold weather
answering the call after a few rings with a raspy voice, signaling that he was sleeping before you called. the grogginess immediately leaving his body when he hears your choked up voice call out to him. immediately flooding you with questions as worry starts to crawl up his spine
“babe? where are you?! what’s wrong?!!”
“i- i don’t know where i am kats, i can’t really see much” you say in between sniffles as you press on the gash at your side harder trying to contain the bleeding as best as you could in the hopes of someone coming for you
“what happened?” he ask sitting up in the bed of his hotel room, his heart hammering against his chest as he feels his lungs getting tighter making it a little hard to breathe at the thought of something happening to you
you explain how the villain came out of no where and you were separated from eijirou and now you don’t know where he is or when back up will arrive. how you managed to find refuge under the remains of a collapsed building but you wounds were too severe for you to aid them on your own
his heart sinks deeper into his rib age with every word that spills from your lips, dread sinking into his bones at the fact that he’s not there to help you and can’t get to you on time being miles away right now
“i um, i didn’t know who else to call, so i wanted to at least hear your voice again”, you choke out as you try to swallow the lump in your throat
“listen to me, you’re gonna be okay, you hear me?”, he says as he tries his best to console you
“mhm” you answer while trying to take a deep breath, your lungs aching with each inhale you take
“say it! i need to hear you say it, baby… tell me you’re okay!” he orders on the other line, desperation evident in his voice, needing to hear you say it, not knowing at this point if it was for your comfort or for his own
“katsuki, i’m okay”, you say with a tremble in your voice as tears start to spill from your eyes
“you’re okay” he whispers back to you while he stays in the line with you, trying to contain the tears spilling from his eyes as he continues comforting you the best that he can, exchanging soft i love you’s and telling you to hold on just a while longer until someone finds you
bakugou katsuki was never a religious man but in that moment he was praying to whatever god or deity that could be listening to not take you from him, anything but you
and as your breaths got slower and you stopped responding to his questions as he desperately called out to you, he swore he felt his heart stopped in that very moment, sitting alone in his hotel room, miles away from home, from you
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seasonal depression is hitting me and i’m literally sobbing while writing this, how can some of y’all write this on the regular? i’m breaking my own heart over here
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grapementos · 10 months
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walk away as the door slams
aged up bakugo x reader
cw: heavily! toxic relationships, emotionally abusive (gaslighting, etc.), angst.
pt 2 here.
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bakugo isn't the same person he was in high school. he grew into a top five hero and opened his own agency, only to be brutally torn apart by the tabloids.
scandal after scandal, you watched him crack. like glass, he grew more and more fragile each time he was made out to be a monster, an asshole, a douchebag--whatever other name was thrown out there.
each time, you were there to comfort him and stand by his side against every rumor and generalization. still, it scared you as you watched his resolve weaken. it was as if he didn't see the point in being a hero anymore.
then came the headline, the article that had him hanging up his gauntlets in exchange for civilian life. the article had an incriminating photo of him holding up his hand to a child. of course, it was taken out of context; bakugo had merely been guiding the child away from the rubble of the building near them.
however, the media ate it up, and bakugo decided that being a hero wasn't worth the false allegations. he announced his resignation the same day and rid the entire house of hero news.
it broke your heart to see him give up his dream, so you'd tried and failed time and time again to talk him out of it. you even invited midoriya and kirishima to persuade him to become a hero again, but his mind was made.
he'd since picked up a new, low-brow job that kept him out of the public eye. with that, unfortunately, came stress regarding bills, grocery shopping, and necessary budget cuts. it was a huge adjustment, one that led to frequent arguments.
you worked from home, so you were able to keep it clean and cook meals for the most part. you tried so hard to keep your home a place where the two of you could coexist happily, but he always came home with an unfulfilled look in his eyes.
truth be told, you were exhausted, but bringing it up just made bakugo frustrated, so you avoided the subject. instead, you'd ask him about work, only to be brushed off.
it hurt.
"katsuki," you called from your spot at the table, finishing up some work, "what do you want to eat tonight?"
"dunno." he grunted, walking out of your shared bedroom.
"right. so helpful." you sighed, looking at your laptop once more, "do you have a general idea? or do you want to cook?"
"i just got home from an 8-hour shift." he looked at you like you were dumb, eyes narrowed, "can you lay off with the million questions?"
"it's a simple question. i need to know if i have to defrost anything." you shut your laptop a little harder than necessary, "i work too, you know."
he laughed bitterly but didn't say anything.
"what?" you demanded, hands on your hips.
"oh, nothing. just thought it was funny, is all."
"what's so damn funny?"
"you, sitting on a laptop all day. 'working'," he used air-quotes, opening the cupboards.
"really? you wanna go there?" you closed the cupboard he was looking in, cheeks flushed with frustration.
he stared at you, jaw clenched, "can you move?"
"can you stop being so damn mean?"
"god, i'm not being mean." he shook his head and opted for digging through the fridge instead, "y'just being too damn sensitive."
you took in a deep breath, red hot anger beginning to boil up in your gut and through your hands all the way down to your fingers.
"stop digging through the fridge when i'm trying to talk to you, please."
he didn't even spare you a glance, pulling out the last cold water bottle.
"katuski." you demanded, louder.
"my god, what?" he slammed the fridge closed, leaning back on the counter, "as if i don't get nagged enough by my boss."
"i'm not nagging you. i'm," you stammered, trying not to escalate the situation into an argument, "i'm trying to see what you want for dinner. that's all."
"just make whatever. i'm not hungry anyways." he tossed the plastic bottle into the trash, plopping down at the table.
you rubbed your temples, trying so hard to maintain your calm, "okay."
-
the two of you were sat across each other at the kitchen table. you ate something quick you'd whipped up, finally breaking the silence, "they're considering me for a promotion. it's a pretty significant payraise, and i think i--"
"god, are you fuckin' kidding me?" he interrupted, eyes suddenly aflame.
"what?" you cocked your head, confused at his sudden irritation.
"you just love rubbing that shit in my face, huh? you're always talking about how you get paid more than i do, how work is so great, and now this? great job, breadwinner."
"katsuki, we're partners, we both contribute to this household no matter what. i'm not the... breadwinner." you insisted, pain blooming in your chest, "i thought you'd be happy for me."
"like you were so happy for me to quit that hero gig? so you can get all the glory of supporting us?"
"is that really what you think?" you stood, not able to control the flames of anger licking at your chest, "katsuki, you know damn well i gave my all trying to talk you into staying a hero."
"bullshit. you just wanted it to look that way." he stood too, hands planted firmly on the table, "because that's what you do. you pretend you care, and then just soak up all the glory for it."
you clenched your jaw, "not everyone cares for glory as much as you do. i don't know why you think that, but i know you loved being a hero, and i supported that because i love you."
"do you? or did you only get with me to be the partner of a hero?" he spat, eyes narrow and downright venomous, "poor partner of dynamight, they must go through so much to endure his anger issues. poor fuckin' you, right? poor y/n."
your lower lip quivered, the back of your eyes burning, and he laughed. he laughed.
"what? you're gonna cry, really?" he scoffed, shaking his head, "fine, fuckin' cry. that's all you seem to know how to do."
you inhaled sharply through your nose, eyes trained steadily on him, "fuck you." you whispered, hands balled into fists by your side.
"say it louder." he challenged, "maybe it'll actually do something."
"fuck you, bakugo katsuki." tears fell freely down your cheeks, but you weren't sad. you were pissed.
you walked around the table and jabbed your finger in his chest, "i have done so much for you. so goddamn much. i have stood by you, i have disproved every bad thing the media had to say, i've supported you, and-" your voice wobbled, "it's never fucking enough. nothing is ever enough for you. someone is always after you, someone is always praying on your downfall, because everything's about katsuki, right?"
he was stunned silent, leaning back away from you. his face was conflicted, eyes wide with surprise.
"well news-fucking-flash, the world doesn't revolve around you. and neither do i," you dropped your hand, wiping at your cheeks, "so i'm done. i'm done fighting for us, because you have never once tried for me."
"y/n--"
"y'know, katsuki." you paused on your way to the bedroom, "i think they were right about you. you are a douchebag. an asshole. a monster."
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shonen-brainrot · 4 months
Text
Inmate!Dabi, who maneuvers through the intricate hierarchy of Tartarus, holds a position of both fear and respect.
Inmate!Dabi, who swiftly garners a notorious reputation among newcomers in prison, as word circulates with cautionary whispers, "Steer clear of that guy, you don't want to cross paths."
Inmate!Dabi, who becomes an exceptionally perilous figure, given his readiness to resort to violence. To find oneself a prisoner while becoming the object of his obsession would undeniably plunge one into an abyss of absolute hell.
Inmate!Dabi, who stands behind a plethora of poker games and shady activities, deftly manipulating both the incarcerated and the enforcers simultaneously. Thanks to this shrewd strategy, he collects favors, ensuring practically everyone is indebted to him in some fashion.
Inmate!Dabi, who consistently emerges unscathed from prison riots.
Inmate!Dabi, who has a penpal connection with you.
Inmate!Dabi, who becomes increasingly fixated on your correspondence, displays a subtle but undeniable obsession.
Inmate!Dabi, who, driven by a growing obsession, insists that you visit him in Tartarus.
Inmate!Dabi, who, having earned your trust through an extensive exchange of letters spanning half a year, achieves his goal when you finally inform him in one of your letters of securing permission to visit him.
Inmate!Dabi, who finds himself one day with handcuffs securing his hands, being escorted directly into the visiting area.
Inmate!Dabi, who, utilizing a substantial sum of money amassed from poker and other ventures, successfully bribes both guards escorting him. Upon entering the visiting area, they oblige by removing his handcuffs, leaving only the quirk blocker restraint secured around his ankle.
Inmate!Dabi, who waits patiently as other visitors leave the room, accompanied by fellow inmates who cast cold glances his way.
Inmate!Dabi, who is unable to tear his turquoise eyes away from your beautiful face and the contours of your body accentuated by the snug jeans and white shirt you wear.
Inmate!Dabi, who, with his voice carrying a low, persuasive tone, encourages you to come closer. "Don't be shy. There's nothing to be afraid of, doll," he smirks, his turquoise eyes locking onto yours.
Inmate!Dabi, who engages in casual chitchat with you, bluntly checking you out as you sit across the table. He smoothly asks questions, and you respond politely.
Inmate!Dabi, who, in a sudden move, leans forward and extends his hand, his long, calloused fingers gently brushing your cheek, eliciting a gasp as you notice the absence of handcuffs. "Don't worry, doll," he smirks, "I ain't gonna hurt ya, yeah?"
Inmate!Dabi, who informs you that he was on his best behavior, earning the privilege to go without cuffs, slyly admitting it was just to have the freedom to touch you. Another gasp escapes you, your cheeks flushing with a rosy hue, and you don't know why are you reacting that way.
Inmate!Dabi, who, as the visit comes to an end, rises from his seat and confidently seizes your wrist, pulling you closer to whisper in your ear, "I can tell you're into me, you wouldn't be here otherwise. No need to be shy about it, good girls like you always enjoy a little play with bad boys."
Inmate!Dabi, who forcefully presses his rugged lips against your soft ones, stifling a small moan that escapes your lips as his free hand firmly grasps your ass. squeezing it with intensity. "I'm already counting down the moments until your next visit, doll."
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plutopitou · 5 months
Text
◇ Wash your mouth out with soap
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bakugou katsuki x reader
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wc: 1.1k | fluff, angst if you squint
Katsuki’s been criticized since he was a teenager about his brash personality, taking a toll on his mentality. But even from a distance he can see your brazen heart waiting for him, always.
This is slightly rewritten and reposted but enjoy luv u
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Katsuki always had a mouth on him. Since the day you first saw his stone face on tv yelling at an interviewer in highschool, he’d grown to be known as the verbally abrasive hero- not that it mattered to him much at that time, anyway.
His mother had tried everything as the child grew up. The traditional hitting with her slipper, washing out his mouth with soap for ten minutes per cuss word; it proved to be unsuccessful and a distorted form of punishment that left a distinct scar in his memories.
“Pro Hero Dynamight verbally attacks civillian after villain attack!”
You look up to see the news headline pass through the screen with exclusive footage of your boyfriend getting into some verbal spew with a civilian, both covered in dust with a collapsed building in the background.
An ambulance pulls up to tend to the man’s injuries as Katsuki bitterly walks away from him before barking an unbleeped “Go fuck yourself”.
You couldn’t help but laugh at his quick outburst as the channel rushes back to the flabbergasted news anchor not expecting his foul retort, undoubtedly questioning his qualifications to be a true hero. You’re swift to turn off the TV and focus on something else.
Katsuki’s persona he was given was not something unfamiliar or a wedge between the both of you. You vividly remembered your first awkward date with eachother. How after every minute you couldn’t count on one hand how many times he was vulgar the more drinks he threw back to ease his anxieties.
People always questioned how could you ever date someone like him. The hero with not just an explosive quirk but an explosive personality that just seemed to be distasteful and rude- how could any sane person stand to be with someone like him?
However, other people’s view of him was the farthest of himself.
The clock hits five minutes to midnight before the apartment door opens, a rustling noise emerging through with heavy footsteps. You close your laptop and look over at your boyfriend tossing his backpack to the side and hanging up his keys.
“‘M home.” Muttered from an annoyed expression. Katsuki’s brows are furrowed down as he pulls his sweatshirt off, his long sleeved hero shirt hugging his muscles from underneath.
Getting up from your seat near the kitchen, you eagerly prance to his fatigued spirit. You gently push back his blond hair, cupping his hot cheeks, planting a sweet kiss where he needed it most. He can feel his unsavory mood melt away as you pull away with nothing less than a pretty smile on your face. “I missed you.” You stated delicately.
His face slowly softens, muttering how much he missed you as well. “I was gonna call you when I got a chance, but fuckin’ assholes held me up today.” He breathes out, the distaste from the events you saw earlier leaked ferociously from his words. “Some man got pissed ‘cause I didn’t get his stupid phone while saving him from a collapsed building.. ungrateful ass just causin’ a scene in front of the press, per usual.”
You watch his features tense from how much he’s holding back letting himself become irritated again about the spew earlier- you can see through his emotions better than the finest telescope. It was the first quality he noticed when he first met you.
When he talked you paid attention to every word; not in a way of faux admiration because he was a famous hero, but in genuine care of what he had to say. You didn’t get upset when he would swear a lame joke, instead you laughed like a rhythmic lullaby to his ears.
Since starting UA, all eyes were on the best in the school and he was always watched and criticized the most. His track record of saving civilians since he got his hero license didn’t matter, it was always going to be about how he’s perceived by the public from the way the media spins narratives about him. He would never admit how much it hurt, he’d rather let Deku continue to be number one than do than let society know they can wear him down.
Katsuki couldn’t advert his gaze as you started to run hot water in the shower for him. You come back and are immediately grasped into his frame. The living room is dimly lit as you slowly sway with the tempo of his warm, mellow nature.
“Shower with me?” He whispers.
You look up from his chest, chin near his heartbeat. “Already did earlier, but you go ahead and ill set the bed up for you?”
The room smelled fresh with cool air and candles as the window curtain wisps with the melody of the breeze. Katsuki walks in shirtless with fresh sweatpants. His hair is limp and damp, skin smelling fresh and old scars on his chest and back able to breathe.
He groans lightly as he lays on his chest, head resting on his hands facing the window as you drip oil on his aching back; hands tracing down the tense cords of muscle and up his neck. Every push he releases a breath, unpacking all the negative emotion from the past twelve hours like therapy.
You loved to just stand and work magic on his body than in a sexual type of passion. It was the way you stared at the shape of the body he’d built himself since he was in school, the divots that are reminiscent of a smooth mountainous landscape. How an hour in you couldn’t tell if he was asleep the way his mouth is slightly open and his brows are straight and relaxed.
It was always a struggle to hold back the tears when he can safely sleep. You keep them back before he ever sees them; because if there was one thing you knew about Katsuki, it’s that he hates seeing someone feel bad for him.
Luckily for you, he never sees it, just feels it.
Katsuki took the hits and fall into his body without delay. There was no hesitation about it as one glance down at the grooves of pink skin peppered over his build can confirm it. It wasn’t something he regret, just something he pondered on.
You both found yourselves to fall into this routine a couple times a week when you see your boyfriend’s shoulders droop just a little lower than usual, when his gaze was just a bit more sheen with distance. It’s been years since the last war, but he was still stuck on the one inside himsef. It made your chest ache.
Outside the room he lays in he was known to be a foul-mouthed man with too much power than he knew to deal with.
You push down the curve of his back with the heel of your palm in the thought.
You wished it was that simple.
He was a young hero stuck with the weight of a cruel world on his back.
You finish kneading his muscular frame, your hands hot of every drip of emotion soaked up like a sponge in water. Turning to leave, you’re stopped with a pull at your hand.
Katsuki slowly pulls your body into his seated embrance. Your delicate fingers find his hair, rubbing down his soft back as his breath his head lays against your stomach, hands leaving ghost touches against your chilled back.
The warmth of his hands find your chin, pulling you down to his level. Your lips lightly brush over eachother before he presses his against yours gently. “I love you, you know..” He mumbles a centimeter away.
Your eyes flutter open, sweeping past the smell scar against his face to his red ones sweet with honey. “Of course I know, loser.”
In a second you’re flown to your back, Katsuki hovering over you playfully as you laugh in surprise.
Those people just wouldn’t get it.
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I noticed i lose a bit of followers when I dont post for a bit or just unactive- im always here but inspiration is always a process for me to fully conjure up something as small as a 1k fic.
Please don’t be disappointed, I will try and get better with activity <3
Please like, follow, and reblog ʕ⁎̯͡⁎ʔ༄
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sugarlywhispers · 5 months
Text
You see him at a distance. Sitting in a comfy chair by the window, watching the sunset in silence.
It will do him good to see you, that's what Izuku had said. But he forgot to mention how it was going to do you no good.
Bakugou Katsuki looks so in peace right at this moment, you're not sure you want to get closer. You're not sure you want to disrupt that peacefulness. It's so rare to see him so relax, so quiet, you don't want to cause him any trouble. Even if it breaks your heart.
He's been asking for you... sometimes, that's what Izuku had said. He sometimes remembers you. But that sometimes makes you wish he wouldn't at all.
You take one, two, three steps closer, and he turns his head because he heard you, his Hero reflexes as sharp as ever. His eyes, ruby eyes that had always held an intensity that made your knees weak for him, look at you up and down. His eyebrows frown and ah, this is not a good day.
"Who the fuck are you and who let you in?" He barks, and your heart breaks.
You look down at your hands, you don't really want him to see how much his words hurt you. You don't want him to see how much you need him back. You don't want him to see how desperate you're for him to remember you.
"Ah, I'm sorry, I got the wrong room," your voice trembles, you're sure he notices, but you don't look back up at him as you turn over your heels and walk back to the door. You don't run, but fuck, you want to get out of there as fast as you can.
Your hand grabs the doorknob as he suddenly gasps, "Y/N?"
You freeze as everything around you. He said your name. Bakugou Katsuki, the love of your life, after two years, says your name once again. You're afraid to turn around. Afraid the it's just your fucking mind playing with you and your feelings. Afraid that when you look at him, there's only going to be a stare that shows how the love of your life doesn't even know who the fuck you are. Still, you turn around. Because, hell, your heart can't be broken anymore when it's barely there, when it only functions because you're alive but you don't live. You can't live without him. You're just surviving.
"Y/N..." He gasps once again and this time you find the courage to look at him.
He's standing, hands closed in fists but you can clearly see hes trying to hold back their trembling, his eyes are filled with unshed tears that he's holding back. And he looks broken. Just like you.
Your tears are rolling down your cheeks as you look at him. There's recognition in his eyes. He knows who you are, and that hurts even more than when he doesn't.
You close your eyes and can't avoid the sob that leaves your mouth when a pair of familiar arms surround you. His smell is the same, sweet like apples and vanilla, but strong like sandalwood and sparks. All him.
"Shh, it's okay... I'm here," he cries, kissing your head as your hands grab his hospital shirt.
"For now," you cry and he holds you tighter.
Because he knows and you know that it won't last long. It never lasts long. He's here for a minute...and then he's gone for days.
"FUCK," he swears crying, before backing away enough to just hold your face in his hands, so you look at him in the eyes. "I'm not fucking giving up, I'm fucking fighting it... I will fight it til I fucking win, you hear me?"
His forehead presses against yours, tears flowing like an unstoppable cascade. You sometimes wonder if cascades aren't just that, nature crying, sobbing a torrent of desperate pleas.
Because fuck you feel like one. An immense torrent of pleas to whatever exists up there to give you back your husband.
"I know you are..." You smile at him, your hands now traveling up towards his face and caressing his cheeks as sweetly as you're able, making him close his eyes and enjoy your touch, "And I'm always going to be here waiting for you."
And that's a promise.
Doesn't matter how long it takes, you'll wait for him. You'll wait until the day he finally heals and comes back to you.
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plutospanda · 8 months
Note
Hi. So this is my request.
Tenya Iida x reader where the readers parents kick them out because they want to be a hero and are in UA. Then they just show up at Tenyas door in the pouring rain to ask if they could sleep at his house for a night. And Tenya is just so 😠mad. Protective Tenya activated.
so sorry that this took me ages to get out! I had no motivation for months and am finally attending my drafts and rebranding lol! so here's the first of many to come ♡♡
warnings:  emotional abuse, reader is kicked out by their parents, self-deprecating and unhappy thoughts
SFW, fluff, angst but not really, mostly comfort.
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I should have been a doctor, I thought. My clothes clung to my body, skin prickled with goosebumps as I collapsed onto the ground. The unsigned, now drenched, permission form was bunched in my fist, my nails digging into my skin. 
“Why would we sign this?” My mother’s voice was ringing through my mind as I recalled tonight’s events. “Just so you to go kill yourself for some dream?” 
“Stupid,” I scolded myself. The cold rain only picked up as I began to cry, choked sobs being drowned out by the pouring rain. 
“If you don’t want to give up on this silly dream then leave!” My father slammed his fist down on the table as he spoke. “I don’t want some mediocre hero claiming to be my child. Go play hero somewhere else.”
I took a deep breath, eyes shutting tightly to blink away my tears. “This is pathetic,” I said to nobody. My hands rubbed the tears off my face, replacing it with mud from the ground. 
I stood, legs tired. I didn’t even think to look at where I was going, just running as fast and far as I could. I looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings, the only light coming from the streetlights. I patted around, luckily smacking something hard and rectangular shaped, my phone. 
I pulled it out, 3% battery remaining. Quickly I pulled up my GPS, trying to see where I was and what the closest place to go was. I’d run close to UA, luckily. Perhaps I could see if anyone was still there, although unlikely. 
I tried looking around more, finding a familiar street name. Tenya’s street, I thought. Something inside me sank, dreading just showing up at his doorstep, soaking wet with tears and mud staining my cheeks. But it was the only place to go, and I trusted him more than anyone else in my class. 
The walk wasn’t very long, but it felt like forever. The rain only worsened, I would definitely be getting sick. By the time I got to Iida’s street, my phone died. I continued, walking up the street and stopping at the mailbox reading IIDA. A light was on inside, I could see in the dining room. Tenya sat there with his family, eating dinner. They were smiling, even laughing as his older brother said something, a huge grin on his face. 
I took a deep breath before walking up to their door. I stood for a moment, enjoying the roof over my head before shutting my eyes and raising my fist. 
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK
I took a step away from their door. Eyes willing themselves to open and hands behind my back, gripping my wrists tightly in anticipation. 
A few footsteps came from the otherside before their dark blue door swung open. A woman, blue eyes and black hair, answered with a smile. I opened my mouth for a moment but said nothing. As she studied me, I could see her smile fade lightly and her face contorted into confusion. 
Tenya came up behind her, his brother following behind. His blue widened after seeing me, hand going to the woman’s shoulder and leading her out of the way. 
“Tenya,” was all I could manage for now. “Hi.” 
The girl and Tenya’s brother shared confused looks, then left us alone. Tenya stepped out onto the porch, hand immediately flying to my forehead. 
“You’re cold,” he said. “What’re you doing out in this weather?”
“Can I stay here?” I asked him softly, “just for the night.” 
His head tilted, eyes focusing on me. “Sure,” his hand slipped into mine before he used the other to open his door again. He pulled me in, shutting the door behind us. 
“Stay here,” he told me, gesturing to the welcome mat I stood on. I looked at my feet, wet socks leaving dark wet marks on the fabric. Shit, I thought. Forgot shoes.
The woman peaked from the dining room archway. Tenya’s brother tugging on her shirt, “leave them be, mom.” He whispered. I didn’t look over at them, too embarrassed to look. Instead, I studied the inside of his home. The beautiful stairs leading to the second storey, their living room to the left of me, their dining room on my right. Bookshelves lined their walls, golden trimmed books glittering in the light of their entrance chandelier. 
It wasn’t long before Tenya came back, a grey bath towel with him. He put it around my shoulders, telling me to dry off before he disappeared into the dining room. I pulled the warm towel to myself, covering my face with it in embarrassment. My legs started shaking as my thoughts wandered, tears threatening again. 
I could hear light whispering from where Tenya had gone, a woman’s voice questioning, then Tenya’s voice answering. I inhaled sharply, willing my arms to move so I could dry off before he came back. 
Tenya’s footsteps approached, I kept my gaze limited to the floor, my hair blocking the view of anything else, rain lightly dripping down to the mat. I felt my cheeks burning. 
“Come upstairs,” his voice was calm, understanding. “You need to get out of those clothes, take a bath.” 
I only nodded and let his hand grip mine, letting him guide me upstairs, turning a few corners and into his bathroom. 
“I’m going to start a bath, okay?” He waited for my nod before turning on the water.”Feel this, tell me if it’s too hot.”
I stepped towards the bathtub and reached my hand into the water, “it’s good.” 
He sat on the edge of the bathtub while it filled up, hand still in the stream of water to regulate the temperature. 
“Do you wanna tell me why you’re here?” He asked. His voice was soft, not an ounce of annoyance or grievance coming out. 
“I was kicked out,” I spoke. “No more home for me, I guess.” The light chuckle that left my lips turned to a sob and I quickly breathed deep to stop the impending breakdown from happening. 
“What?” His voice now sounded slightly angry, but still filled with kindness. “Why would your parents do this?”
I didn’t say anything, still trying to hold back my tears. I only shrugged my shoulders pathetically as an answer, and he turned the tap off and stood up. 
“Take a quick bath, you can use anything you’d like in here. I’ll wait outside so just knock once you’re done and I’ll bring you some clean clothes, okay?”
I nodded again, then he left. I let the tears fall from my eyes the moment the door shut. The towel fell from my shoulders and I sniffled back as I peeled the clothes off my body. Stepping into the steaming water, skin tingling as it enveloped me, I finally let myself cry. The water smelt of my favourite scent, something I assumed Tenya added while filling the tub. 
I dipped down, fully submerging myself into the water and coming back up for air. I curled into a ball, arms reaching for the bottles of soaps and creams on the tub corners. I started reading what they were through blurry eyes. 
Birch scented shampoo and conditioner, moisturizing body wash, shea butter body scrub. I used the scrub, rubbing it up my arms and silently crying. 
I took a long bath, testing out every product on his bathtub. I heard his brother come to say goodnight to him, asking if I was okay and then leaving once Tenya told him I would be. His mother came to say goodnight with his father, asking what was wrong and asking if I would be here for breakfast tomorrow morning. 
After a while, the water had turned cold and the bathroom smelt like a mix of Tenya. I reached into the tub, pulling its plug and reaching for the towel. I dried my feet off first, stepping onto the tiled floor and then rubbing the rest of my body until it was slightly dry, no longer dripping everywhere. 
I walked up to the door, giving it three light taps. 
“Can I come in for a moment?” Tenya’s voice came. 
“Sure.”
The door handle turned and Tenya walked in, handing me a small pile of warm clothes and then leaving, closing the door shut behind him. 
I dressed myself, then stepped into his hallway. He’d given me dark blue sweatpants and a matching hoodie, both too big for me. I had to pull the drawstring of his sweatpants tightly and tie them into a bow. 
Tenya was waiting in the hallway, leaning against the wall dressed in his pajamas. When I stepped out he quickly turned to me, eyes landing on mine as I finally looked up at him. 
“Did you eat dinner?” He asked quietly. I shook my head, no. “Follow me.” He led me down the hall and into his bedroom, which had the bedside lamp on. A mug of hot tea and bowl of soup were placed alongside the lamp, and glass of water with them. He had set up a mattress on the floor of his room, blankets and sheets fitted on it. 
I started to walk towards it, but was caught by Tenya. “No, you take the bed tonight. Have some soup too, please.”
I turned to him. “Tenya, I can’t take your bed. I’ll be fine on the floor.”
“Please,” he begged. I gave in, walking to the bed and gesturing to him that he sit beside me. I sat cross legged as he handed me the bowl of soup. 
“They don’t like me being a hero,” I managed in between spoonfuls of soup. “Not good enough for them.”
He looked at me. “You don’t need to explain if you don’t wish to,” he said.
“It’s okay, that’s really all they said.” I lied. My mother’s shrill scream of, “don’t bother coming back until you can say you’re done disappointing this family,” ringing in the back of my mind. 
I wished I could fool him, but the look in his eye was showing his true disbelief in my lie. His face was left with a frown, teeth chewing on the inside of his lip while he thought. 
“How could you not be good enough for them?” He asked quietly, but not low enough that I missed it. “You’re an excellent student, an even better hero. You save lives, and it’s not good enough for them?” His voice was starting to rise slightly, anger lacing his tone. 
“Iida please,” I tried to get him to lower his voice. “It’s really not a big deal, they just don’t like heroes, that’s all.” 
“A parent is supposed to be a hero, someone who uplifts their kid’s dreams and supports them.” He was at a normal voice level now, his navy eyes locking with mine. “How could they kick you out over your dreams?”
“My parents aren’t like yours,” I whispered to him, “they don’t understand, just please keep it down.” My hand found its place on his before I knew what was happening and he froze slightly, eyes flickering down to his hand before looking back up at me. 
“You’re amazing,” he whispered. “Just know that. I would’ve died a million times if you hadn’t helped me.” 
I smiled at him, “thank you.” 
“Now please finish your soup, it’s late and if you don’t warm up you’ll catch a cold.”
"Okay."
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please take some time to view my masterlist or navigation pages.
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doumadono · 15 days
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Warnings: intermittent explosive disorder (IED), mentions of PTSD, a lot of angst, Bakugo dealing with impulsive anger outbursts, Bakugo being mean, aged-up Bakugo, pro hero Dynamight
A/N: yesterday, while chatting with my partner about Bakugo, a thought struck me (though it's just a personal theory, subject to disagreement) - Bakugo might exhibit signs of intermittent explosive disorder. His frequent bouts of anger, his brusque and often unkind demeanor, and occasional lack of control over his temper could be indicative of this. These headcanons delves into Bakugo's life as the second-ranked pro hero, Dynamight, as he grapples with the aftermath of the war
MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST
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You meet Bakugo when he's the second-ranked pro hero, right after Deku. You're drawn to his charisma, confident personality, and the way he becomes protective of you.
Unfortunately, over time, you start to notice a lot of things that are just not right. His temper is extremely short, and he can explode with anger no matter what happens. It could be something he dislikes or someone doing something he doesn't approve of, and it immediately triggers a massive rage outburst. This can lead to him losing control of his own quirk, resulting in him destroying things.
After a routine checkup, the doctor suggests taking some tests, and the results are devastating: Bakugo is diagnosed with intermittent explosive disorder.
Naturally, this news infuriates him, and when he returns to your shared flat, he destroys his own little office in a fit of rage.
Bakugo's intermittent explosive disorder makes it difficult for him to control his anger, and he will often lash out in violent outbursts.
Bakugo's intermittent explosive disorder manifests in unpredictable outbursts of anger and aggression, often triggered by seemingly minor frustrations or perceived slights. His explosions can range from verbal tirades to physical violence, leaving destruction in their wake.
During his outbursts, Bakugo lashes out verbally and physically, unaware of the damage he inflicts on those around him.
Despite his efforts to control it, Bakugo's explosive temper often alienates him from his friends and loved ones.
His relationships with people he considered colleagues or sometimes friends become strained as they struggle to understand and cope with his unpredictable behavior anymore.
You're often the target of his outbursts but refuses to give up on him, believing that beneath his volatile exterior lies a wounded soul in need of understanding and support.
Even Mitsuki tries to intervene. "Honey, you need help. This isn't healthy for you or anyone around you! We're here for you, son. We want to help you get through this."
But of course Katsuki declines. "I don't need your help! I can handle this on my own!"
Bakugo's disorder takes a toll on your relationship, testing the limits of your love and patience. There are moments when you feel helpless and overwhelmed, questioning whether you can handle the emotional rollercoaster of being with him.
You learn to recognize the signs of an impending outburst and try to diffuse the situation before it escalates, using gentle words and gestures of affection to calm him down.
Bakugo's disorder has left him feeling like a monster, like a beast that's been unleashed upon the world with no hope of redemption. He's consumed by guilt and self-loathing, convinced that he's unworthy of love or forgiveness.
Deep down, Bakugo is aware of his condition and the pain he causes, but his overwhelming anger blinds him to the consequences of his actions.
Bakugo's disorder causes him to push you away frequently, convinced that he's too dangerous to be around. He believes that he's protecting you by keeping his distance, even though it breaks his heart to do so.
Bakugo's disorder becomes a constant source of tension between the two of you, with every interaction tinged with the fear of setting him off.
Finally, after months of suggesting and almost begging, Bakugo agrees to try something new and allows you to take him to a psychiatrist. The doctor prescribes him Fluoxetine, and after some time of taking the medication, his rage and anger outbursts become smaller and less frequent.
You don't just leave it there. You suggest he should think about therapy, and after some reluctance, he agrees.
After attending several sessions, you both discover that Bakugo's disorder is linked to PTSD he developed post-war and after being dead for a while. Suddenly, everything becomes clear, and you not only understand your boyfriend better but also know how to help him effectively. Hearing about his traumatic experiences brings tears to your eyes, and you cry a river upon realizing the extent of his suffering.
Over time, and with the combined efforts of you, his parents, and his friends, Katsuki starts to make progress in managing his disorders and becomes a bit calmer with his emotions. Of course, everyone remains super careful not to do anything that might set him off.
Being Dynamight's partner is tough, and you know it better than anyone. But despite the challenges, you're not about to leave him. He's the love of your life after all, with all his strengths and weaknesses.
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sanhaswife · 1 year
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Angst drabble:
You and Bakugo have been on and off for over two years now, mostly because he calls it quits after every argument and you’re the idiot waiting for him to come around every time.
Not this time.
This time he pushed you too far. Once again he was in your room, your apartment, yelling and arguing over something small. Except this “small” thing was the stack of printed photos you had in your hands. “Who is she?” You kept repeating yourself because he refused to give you a straight answer. Your eyes burning with tears and the photos in your hand feeling like fire.
“You keep me on a leash! I’m always the one waiting for you with open arms! W-what…do you think I can keep doing this forever Bakugo?” The tears felt like waterfalls and stung as you watched the blonde across from you fidget in embarrassment.
He opened and closed his mouth trying to form some sort of excuse for being caught with another woman. While you both were on and off, he knew it was only because he was selfish, because he was a dick and needed space before exploding. He never wanted to hurt you yet he couldn’t stop himself from making terrible decisions such as randomly hooking up with some female hero from the agency. He didn’t even know her name, only that her hair and eyes were the same color as yours.
“If i’m such a bad guy hit me! Kick me! Throw me out! Do something damn it! Stop standing there like you’re so perfect!” He screamed back, fearing that you could hear the loud pounding in his chest from across the room.
His word’s didn’t t make sense, they only made you confused and angry. You could handle the breaks and the fights, the waiting, but another woman? That was the last straw, that’s where you drew the line. While your heart bleed and your stomach cramped you threw the photos at him and ran to the closet, grabbing his clothes and belongings in such a rushed manner you just threw them in a random bag. “Get out.”
Your words froze him in place. “What?”
“Get out! Leave! This is it, this is where we end.” You felt like throwing up, the pounding of your heart was echoing in your head now and your stomach cramped painfully now like a signal.
“No more Bakugo. I can’t do this anymore.” Your cries were louder now and even he flinched at your tone. The sound pierced his heart, it was so painful he wanted nothing more than to leave and come back the next day where you both pretended nothing was wrong. To continue this cycle you two have been stuck on these past years. Yet his ego and the shame of being caught bubbled up inside of him and took control. He grabbed his bags, swinging them over his shoulders and headed towards the front door.
You followed him to the door, watching as he gripped the door handle and slowly opened it. You found yourself holding your breathe as he walked through.
He paused midway and turned to you with the most disgusted face. “Thank god we never had a kid.” And with that he left, leaving you standing at the open doorway as you held your stomach that cramped even more now.
That night you left the apartment he always came back to. That night you took everything you owned except for a note on the kitchen counter where you knew Bakugo would find it.
𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘺.
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angelshimaa · 5 months
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━━ 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐓 ;; 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈
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✧ cw :: gn!reader, angsty (heh), there is arguing and yelling here, reader is called 'clingy'
✧ a/n :: fun fact, this started out as a kirishima piece, but the dialogue said 'bakugou' so i changed it :D haven't written arguments before methinks, but i hope this is good !!
part 2 !
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you knew how abrasive of a person he was, but you'd never felt it for yourself. every sentence felt like the sting of scraping your skin, and he just wouldn't stop.
the person standing in front of you looks like him. the same eyes, the same blond hair, the same voice that once never said anything to you with such poisonous intent.
but the bitterness in his words? the volume in them— a volume you dared to match with your own voice— it wasn't the loudness you knew.
and, as katsuki goes on and on, you wonder when the last time was that you could claim to know him.
you fall silent, eyes glassy and you stare. he notices the shift in the air, the shift in your face, and he snaps out of it.
"what are we doing here, katsuki?"
it's barely above a whisper and you're thankful your voice remains steady. you hope he can see how the hurt looks, draped across your face, and you wonder if he can feel it too.
"the hell do you mean, y/n?"
"what are we doing here, katsuki? how much more are we going to yell at each other like this? half the time i— i don't even remember why we're arguing. do you enjoy it?"
katsuki's face is unreadable. "enjoy it? you think i enjoy being like this? that i want to come home to endless problems, that i want to have every little thing psychoanalysed because you just can't leave me alone?"
it's a red-hot slap across the face, but not one hard enough to render you speechless.
"coming home? you want to talk about coming home, when you're never here? you're never here, katsuki!"
you clap your hands with each word of the last sentence, and it only escalates the situation.
his eyebrows are permanently creased and he scowls— it's ugly and malicious. you've never known him to be so ugly. "it's no wonder when you act like this all the damn time! always yapping away with your clingy ass— home isn't home when i know i have this to come back to," he gestures at you.
silence stabs, but it doesn't compare to the sharp, dagger-shaped words you've hurled at each other. you feel cemented to the floor with how heavy your body seems, and all you can do is look at him.
"i see."
in that moment, it becomes apparent to you just how close the end of everything is. the lump in your throat is as heavy as you feel, and as much of an invader as you are to his home and his peace, apparently.
there isn't much else to be said.
when you try to swallow the ache in your throat, and make to move to the door, katsuki understands just how harshly he's stomped on your heart. he watches you through glasses of fading anger, and as red becomes normal he understands the gravity of it all.
"i— i've overstayed my welcome, it seems. i'll go." you throw over your shoulder as you leave.
"enjoy your home, bakugou."
you don't slam the door— but he wishes you had. he wishes there was rage in how you left— rage was what he could deal with. instead, he hears the soft click of the door— he hears the hopelessness and the surrender in your departure— and along with it, the end of your relationship.
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✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated &lt;3
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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Imagine Hawks craving your company after a stressful day, being all clingy and tired but still affectionate
Cute tired boyfriend Hawks, makes me all warm and fuzzy thinking about it.
Pairing: Keigo "Hawks" Takami x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, domestic fluff, massage, baths, comfort kisses, neck kisses, tired cuddles
A/N: Hawks needs all the smooches and head pats and... wing brushing? Idk lol.
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Hawks isn't often tired when he gets home and even if he is he doesn't let it show until he knows you went to sleep, or thinks you're sleeping
You notice the way the muscles in his back twitch when you touch them, how he tries not to grimace from your touch as you take his shirt off
His wings stretch out behind him, red feathers falling to the floor, "Ah, sorry bout that. I'll clean up the mess tomorrow okay sweetheart? For now," He winks at you, his hands locking behind your back, "since you took my shirt off already I'm guessing you want the same thing as me."
You dodge his kiss, much to his amusement, making him think you're just being playful until you tell him to get into the bath, "Bath? Do I stink? I thought you liked post-mission me."
Under normal circumstances yes but not when he's barely able to keep his posture straight, "I'm not tired. Check this out!" He flaps his wings behind him only to fumble down to the floor, your arms there to support him, "Ah. Maybe... maybe I am a little tired. But I can still, you know, do my thing."
Dodging his second kiss you lead a grumbling Keigo to the bathtub, filled with warm water and help him get undressed, ignoring his flirting attempts
Its sweet that even when he's tired he still tries to be flirty and charming and make your pleasure the priority
His wings and hair are all damp from the water and the humidity of the room, his head lulling back into your touch, his wings twitching when your fingers run through the bristled, soft feathers, from the base all the way to the apex
"That feels pretty nice. Always... knew... you had... talented hands... sweetheart." His speech is slow and slurred on his lips, his head almost hanging off the edge of the tub
When he's clean and fully relaxed you give him his pajama bottoms and boxers to put on, of which he only puts on the pajamas
A sleepy smirk spreads to the corners of his face when you get into bed with him
His lips slowly kiss your neck, desperately trying to stay awake against the pull of sleep that he's being lulled into from your sweet, gentle kisses and your fingers sliding through his hair
It was the first full night of sleep he's gotten in a while
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