[9:41 A.M.]

prohero!bakugo but you, his wife, were kidnapped.

you sat in a dark room, the dripping of water the only sound you heard. your eyes were blindfolded, your hands restrained behind your back as you were bound to a pipe on the floor. the smell of blood filled your nostrils and you resisted the urge to gag.

"she's awake." a strange, gnarly voice you never heard before said, before ripping the blindfold of your eyes, a different man beside him shining a flashlight directly into your face.

you didn't wanna know what you saw in the corner of your eye, unmoving and surrounded by a puddle. but you were broken out of your thoughts by a voice:

"so, girlie, wanna tell us what your husbands weakness is? he put a bunch of our gang in prison some while ago, so we want him dead." a guy with a scar across his face questioned.

as you stayed silent, he pulled your hair, yanking your head forwards to look at him. "answer me, and we won't have to get ugly."

you glared at him, your eyebrows scrunching in annoyance, "no way, eat shit and die." at your words, the man slammed your head against the wall brutally, leaving a dent in the wall, and your head bloodied.

"looks like you'll be trouble huh? i'll ask you again, what's your husbands weakness?"

as you again refused to answer, the other man slapped you across the face. "maybe his next wife will learn to listen. but we'll keep you alive for a bit longer, maybe you'll have a change of heart."

they stood back, admiring their work on you. your nose was broken now, the smell of your own blood apparent to you now as it dripped over your face. your head was pounding as you struggled to stay awake.

"katsuki.." you muttered wearily under your breath, making the two men laugh at you. as you fought off tears off pain.. or was it embarrassment? you didn't know as the two feelings started to blur together.

you knew you just had to hold on. just for a second longer, he'd come for you. the tears dried up but her will didn't, even as the hours passed with no sign of katsuki.

"did your little husband forget you girl? guess you weren't as precious as we thought." the men laughed.

"y-you're wrong. he's coming, and you'll regret this." you mustered, making the men smirk. "oh yeah?"

"fuck yeah." a voice echoed through the compound, accompanied by the sound of a concentrated explosion blasting through the walls.

one of the men, shook up by his sudden appearance, and look of pure unadulterated anger, tried to run off. the other grabbed you, trying to use you as a shield for his next explosion, but katsuki just used it as an opening for a direct hit, sending him flying into the other man, rendering them both useless.

katsuki then ran over to you, untying you from your confines, and looked over you, gently grabbing your face in his hands. "shit, babe.. 'm sorry."

"you came.. i knew you would."

he took you into his arms, getting you back to safety. after this, he'd never want to let you out of his sights again, he just felt so worried, so anxious for what could happen.

but as you two held eachother, the thoughts and fears were all calmed by the feeling of your bodies in tandem.

heaven can't help me now

summary: Suna x Reader. dating on a bet but it's ethical

word count: 4.4k

cw: a lot of kissing, cheating (not done to reader or by suna), humor to ??? to angst to ???, no joke this is all over the place, friends to dating the school player on a bet to fake dating to friends to

a/n: shh

“This is the stupidest situation I’ve ever been in,” you say, surveying the mostly-empty early morning grounds of Inarizaki High. The only noises are the breeze rustling through the trees, birds chirping musically, and the grunts of every student athlete running through their morning workout.

“No it’s not,” says your best friend, the demonic entity who put you in this mess.

“No, it’s not,” you agree sadly. “Alright. Let’s get this over with.”

Getting this over with actually entails waiting until the end of the school day, because you don’t want to face the consequences of your actions and would rather hide at home than suffer publicly in school.

One in thirteen people die via vending machine every year, you remind yourself as you approach the contraption warily. You should be so lucky.

Tragically, the vending machine doesn’t kill you; worse, everything goes according to plan. At 3:23 p.m., Suna Rintarō approaches for his pre-practice snack.

I’m gonna throw up, you text your friend. She leaves you on delivered. You hate her.

“Hey,” Suna says your name, effectively cutting off all trains of thought.

“Hi,” you say. You nearly chicken out, but your pride is on the line. You have to do this. You can do this. You are a badass.

“Thanks,” says Suna. Oops. Your mouth clamps shut involuntarily, so you stare mutely at him while he chuckles to himself, focused primarily on scanning the plethora of processed food the machine offers.

About three things you are absolutely positive. First, Suna is a heartbreaker of the highest degree. Second, you are trapped in a dare to prove otherwise. And third, the way his blazer drapes over his frame and he smiles at you like he’s letting you know a secret makes you feel like a dandelion being blown into the blue sky on a sunny summer day.

Like having butterflies, but instead of merely letting them flutter around your innards, you ascend into the weightlessness of fluttering flight.

Fucking insects.

“Funny story,” you say abruptly, making eye contact with Suna. “I was dared to date you. For over three months. I don’t think I was supposed to tell you but it didn’t seem ethical not to on the off chance that you would, y’know, say yes, against all known laws of physics and aviation—”

Suna laughs. His nose scrunches up when he does it, and his eyes nearly close, and the flush on his face is the same shade of pink all the French lovers wrote about, probably. You bounce on your toes in agitation.

“I know it sounds like a joke but I just really need you to give an answer so I can report back because if I don’t ask you they threatened to dye my cat purple.”

“Isn’t your cat black?”

“I have two cats,” you say. “I knew I shouldn’t have defended you. Asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he waves it off. “Let’s do it. Could be fun.”

“Are you joking?” It’s your turn to laugh.

“No,” he says simply, stepping just into your personal space so he can reach out and brush a piece of your hair back. “Not even a little.”

“Excuse me a moment,” you say, and turn your back to him to message FUCK in the groupchat with unsteady fingers. You are all too aware of his sharp eyes watching over your shoulder while you type the four-letter word three times until it’s spelled correctly. You tuck your phone back into your pocket and face him again with squared shoulders. “Cool. Sweet. Should we shake on it?”

He stretches out his hand. You take it, gripping it firmly to indicate that you will be a reliable and firm business partner.

“Is there money on this?”

“5000 yen from six people each if we last through the three month mark,” you say seriously. “I can give you fifteen percent of the winnings.”

“Fifty percent.”

“Twenty.”

“Thirty,” he says, and you shrug. “But I’m still gonna call it off if I get bored, just so you know.”

“Oh, I know,” you say. You’re still holding his hand.

He changes his grip so your fingertips are barely touching, drawing your hand up to brush a kiss over the knuckles. You want to punch him in the mouth a little bit. It’s not right for someone to be so romantic in an entirely unromantic situation. It’s confusing and upsetting.

“Signed and sealed,” he says. “Walk home with me on Friday, okay?”

Friday goes well. At first, you feel clumsy and stupid, your mind entirely consumed by the fact that you’re fake-dating him. Your friends hadn’t bought that he’d said yes (they didn’t know you’d told him about the bet) until he’d interrupted your morning briefing with them the next day, hair endearingly limp from volleyball-induced sweat and grin sharp and wide. He’d slung an arm around you while you shrieked and tried to get out from beneath him, aggravated by his moistness, and he’d finally put an end to your wriggling by spinning you face to face with him, brushing his nose against yours and telling you to be good.

That had shut you up for, like, ten minutes.

It’s easy to fake it around your friends, playing off an inside joke with him that reads as chemistry to outsiders. One on one, though, you panic.

“So...” Suna says, hands in his pockets and posture slouched while you stew in anticipatory embarrassment. “What do you think of Englebert Humperdink?”

“What?”

“What?”

“You’re weird, Suna,” you bump into him purposely, bouncing off with the efficacy of a tennis ball hitting a brick wall.

“I told you to call me Rintarō,” he bumps you back. “And you’re the one being weird.”

“It’s just weird,” you say indignantly. “Don’t you think it’s weird?”

“Well, I’m weird too,” he shrugs. “No big.”

Weirder, it’s like a ton lifts off your shoulders when he says that.

“At least you’re weird cool,” you offer. “People like your weird.”

“I don’t really care, though,” he says. “People like you, they don’t like you, it doesn’t matter. You’re still weird.”

“Are you talking about you or me? Or the ambiguous you?”

He only offers a mysterious smile in response.

Your first date with Suna — Rintarō — is five days of walking home with him plus the weekend later. He picks you up fifteen minutes late, has a toxic green energy drink in hand, and refuses to tell you where he’s taking you no matter how you beg, threaten, or bribe.

It’s a classic: the movie theater. By the time you’ve finished reading all the possible movie titles on show tonight, he’s brandishing two tickets to the latest in a series of corny action flicks, smirking lazily at you.

“I wanted to see the one with the assassin romance,” you say while he pays for movie snacks, mocking you relentlessly for your choice of filler food.

“The one who pays picks the movie,” he sing-songs.

“That’s not a rule. And I could’ve paid.”

“It is for me, and I wouldn’t let you do that, because I’m a gentleman and a great time.”

“You chose a movie with four prequels I haven’t seen. I don’t think you qualify for either of those.” He shrugs.

“The tickets are bought. No choice now.”

You get back at him by making snide comments throughout the movie, pointing out every plot hole and snickering at the saddest scenes.

“You are a demon and I never should have agreed to this,” he points at you once you’ve walked out of the theater.

“Aw, no, baby,” you say, pouting exaggeratedly at him. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“Not a chance,” he laughs. “No fucking way.”

It turns out that being in a couple can be really good for your social life. You get specials at restaurants, so you go out to eat more. You like pissing off your friends with your success, so you invite them to hang out and bring your boyfriend along. You get to know the infamous volleyball team, who are a lot less intimidating when they run around hitting each other with towels than they are on the court.

Sure, the Miyas seem like they’re constantly laughing behind your back, but you can tell they’re bouncing between making fun of Rintarō and of you equally.

“He’s gonna break up with you, ya know?” Says the gray-haired one to you one day, completely unprompted. You blink up at him, caught mid-soup sip.

“Don’t make fun, Samu,” says the blond. “He’s too in loveeeeee to do that.” He tilts his head coquettishly and flutters his fingers around his face. “He told us you’re not like his exes. He actually said that.”

“I think he says that to all his dates,” Osamu muses. “Male manipulator.”

“Male manipulator my ass,” snorts Atsumu. “Yesterday he saw one of his ex-girlfriends and hid behind me until she went away. The man is a simp.”

“Maybe he still has feelings for her,” muses Osamu, staring at you with laser focus. “Does that worry you?”

“No?” You say, then take a loud slurp of soup.

“You’re borin’,” says Atsumu. “Maybe s’why he likes you so much. Bye.”

“Bye,” says Osamu.

“Bye.”

You’re on your fifth date, getting a special two for the price of one taiyaki deal when you actually bump into his ex, standing behind you in line.

“Hi,” she grins at you. “You know he’s a piece of shit, right?”

“Yes,” you say confidently, at the same time Rintarō says her name pleadingly. You sense suddenly that there is history here you don’t want to make light of.

“As long as you’re clear,” she says, taking your hand and squeezing it. Her fingertips bite into your skin. You look at Rintarō, surprised he’s not making any smart quips, but the gray shade of his skin tells you everything you need to know about the situation.

“The vibes,” you say, suddenly. “They’re arsenic.”

“What?”

“Rintarō,” you grab his hand and tug on it. “We have to go.”

You pull him out of the line, stumbling as he goes and giving her a small, pathetic wave as you storm away.

He doesn’t regain his color until you’re in your room, sitting on your bed while he drapes himself over your desk chair.

“So is there a reason why your ex makes you catatonic or should I make one up?”

“She’s fine,” Rintarō says hoarsely.

“Yep,” you say. “She killed your childhood horse.”

“What? No, you’re insane. She cheated on me.”

“She cheated on you?” You launch yourself to your feet, suddenly filled with the power of a thousand burning suns to strike her down.

“No, no, no,” he says. “Sit down. Sit down. It was my fault, anyway.”

Rintarō’s not a particularly loud guy, but he sounds so quiet now that you nearly ask him to speak up.

“How can her cheating possibly be your fault?” You arch a brow.

“I wasn’t a good boyfriend,” he says. “I was really, uh, neglectful.” He holds a hand up when you open your mouth. “It was worse than you think. She tried to reason with me a bunch of times and I wouldn’t listen. We had a pretty big fight and didn’t talk for a couple days, and when we were talking again, she had... Well. And then it was over.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. So, I dunno, I don’t blame her or anything. Plus, I went on a streak of fucking, uh, flings afterwards so I’m not faultless, either.”

“Bullshit, but okay,” you snort. “None of that is grounds for sleeping with someone else as revenge for upsetting her.”

“It wasn’t revenge—”

“It kinda was,” you point out. “And I don’t think you hooking up with a bunch of people after she hit you in the heart with a golf club is really the same thing. If anything, it sounds like you were just... trying to get over her, which isn’t a crime in anyone’s book, really.”

“It wasn’t hooking up,” he protests weakly.

“You’re running out of arguments, Rintarō,” you say. “Anyway. Um. Sorry for being all in your business. Can I get you anything?”

“I don’t know,” he says vaguely, staring into space.

“Okay,” you say, shoulders dropping. “Sounds good to me.”

You spend the next hour with him in near silence. Halfway through, you ask if he wants to sit on the bed with you, which he gladly accepts. The only noise in the room is the sound of the both of you tapping at your phones and occasionally clicking on a video and playing it out loud. You wonder if your parents would be angry that you had a boy in your room if they walked in and saw the two of you doing absolutely nothing.

“Sorry,” you say, just before he leaves. “Again.”

“No, you’re good,” he responds. “It was nice. Really, really nice.”

Impulsively, you hug him. It takes a second for him to unfreeze, but you eventually feel hands patting your back.

“Night,” you say once you’ve pulled back. “Sleep tight.”

“Hope the vampires bite,” he says, smiling toothily at you.

That’s when you become best friends with your boyfriend.

You can recall the nearly physical feeling of the click of things into place, of the way the universe shifted just slightly so you could see so much more clearly. Dates blur into one long Suna session. Suddenly, you find your afternoons consumed with sitting on the bleachers, even if you're not actually watching practice. You no longer need to invite Rintarō to gatherings; he's there when the plans are made. You text incessantly during class and he sits in your desk chair, playing games on his phone, while you ponder your homework, waiting for you to finish so the two of you can binge dramas together.

"This means we probably would've had more fun if we'd watched the assassin romance instead of General Godzilla 5: Part 2," you say snidely.

"Fuck you," he responds eloquently.

He does the dishes for you when your parents ask you to, and you wash his laundry when you visit his house. This must be what it means to be in a partnership. The two of you encounter new problems and adapt, improvise, overcome.

"Have you and Suna... you know? Yet?" Asks one of your friends.

"No," laughs your best friend (the one you're not dating). "Have you two even kissed yet?"

"Yes, of course we have," you answer extremely truthfully. "Excuse me."

Rintarō opens his front door half an hour later. You promptly scream for fifteen straight seconds. He understands.

"We just need to orchestrate a kiss and get more comfortable with PDA," you reason later, sitting cross-legged across from him on your bed. He nods seriously, fingers steepled and expression wise.

"We can do that. Have you ever kissed someone before?" You throw a pillow at him.

"Of course I have. Just because it doesn't turn into schoolwide gossip doesn't mean it's not happening."

"Low blow, but okay."

"Wait," you pause. "Maybe you're right. Not factually, but spiritually. Do you think we should practice?"

"Maybe," you watch him swallow. "Yeah."

You both scoot slowly toward each other, laughing nervously every time the bed creaks.

"So are you..." You start, throat dry. "Um. Am I or are you gonna—"

Ungracefully, his lips land on yours. Your eyes slam shut and you reciprocate enthusiastically, cupping the back of his neck with one hand to brace yourself. Despite the jerky start, you can tell that he's a good kisser, a really good kisser. He sucks hard on your lower lip, drawing a noise you're embarrassed to hear out of your mouth, which prompts him to shift around and put a large hand on your back, kneeling so he has a few inches on you and can pull you closer. You kiss him harder, desperate to drown out the intensity of your own reaction.

Too hard. You think you black out.

When you come to, your hands have migrated into his black hair and he's pulling away from your neck, which you suspect is freshly marked. He stares down at you with wide eyes, and you suspect the expression is mirrored on your face.

"Do you think that was enough practice?" You ask carefully, unsure of what the correct answer is.

"Probably," he says, leaning back. "It'll be fine. Unless you get performance anxiety and drool on my face or something."

"You're so gross."

"You love me."

"Do I?"

You're half-asleep, walking out of your final period of the day when someone pulls you headlong into a dark classroom.

"Don't scream," Rintarō says. You scream. "Exactly. Thank you."

Then he's kissing you, barely brushing his lips against yours, smirking when you pinch his ribs. You chase him, kissing him fully and turning the both of you so that he's up against the wall, his hands loosely gripping your waist while your hands wander to his hair. He tastes sweet-and-sour, like home and like trouble, a contradiction wrapped in black hoodies and burning yellow eyes.

Someone's calling your name. Someone's calling your name, and the lights are on. You blink blearily at your best friend, who's laughing her ass off, and separate slowly from Rintarō. Your lips are wet and you can't seem to catch your breath.

"It's not what it looks like."

"God, imagine if I'd been a teacher," your friend howls and backs out of the classroom, beckoning you to follow. "Oh, the looks you guys gave me..."

"Remy," Rintarō whispers in your ear as he jogs to catch up with you, slinging his bag on. "You're like the rat in Ratatouille. Pulling me around by my hair."

"You are so, so bad at romance," you hiss. "See if I ever do it again."

"I mean, we weren't going to," he says. "But I'd like to."

You punch him lightly in the arm, but your heart's not in it.

Comparatively, PDA isn't hard after that. Your friends make fun of your hickey, which you shift up your collar to hide self-consciously (and which Rintarō pulls down constantly and secretly, for reasons unknown to you), and you hold hands without even thinking about it. You kiss him hello on the cheek and he hugs you goodbye, and you're starting to become hyperaware of the upcoming deadline.

Will everything change the way it did when you asked him to do this crazy, stupid thing with you? Will it all slip away, like a dream you can't quite remember by the time you wake up?

All these worries add up to something worse, you realize, lying in bed staring at the ceiling. You're not quite sure you can make it to the three month mark without wanting everything that's been smoke and mirrors and espionage to be real.

Only two weeks, you tell yourself, checking over your calendar again and again like it'll make the days pass faster. Fourteen days, three hundred thirty six hours, twenty thousand and one hundred sixty minutes. Everything is fine.

He takes you to the movies again.

He buys tickets for a movie from the fifties, buys you your favorite snacks without having to be asked, wraps his arm around you when you shiver from the air-conditioned interior. He likes the seats in the middle, but you nod toward the back.

"Really?" He asks, voice strangely high-pitched. "Oh. Sick."

You don't remember much of the movie.

Your last date with Suna Rintarō ends on the train. The world is a smear of blue and gray in front of you; behind you, arms embracing you almost too loosely is him. You turn your head to speak into his ear.

"It's been good," you tell him. "Happy three months."

"Happy three months," he repeats, the words nearly foreign in his mouth. "And one day. We're gonna be rich."

"And one day," you smile, and reach for his hand, his bony fingers cold to the touch. "Should we stage a big breakup?"

"I've had enough of big breakups for a lifetime," he laughs. "But if you want to, let's do it. Could be fun."

"No, it's okay," you shrug. "They're gonna know we gamed them, anyway. No need to lay it on anymore."

"Yeah," he replies. "Does that mean this is it?"

The conductor announces your stop, one neighborhood before his.

"I guess so," you feel strangely light, a little out of body. "See you tomorrow, Rintarō."

You should kiss him, maybe. Something dramatic should be happening right now; at least an emotional embrace. That's not how the two of you operate, though, and it wasn't anything real, anyway, you try to remind yourself. He won't be losing any sleep over this, so neither should you.

You lick your lips and smile at him, giving a little wave. He lifts a hand, head down while he looks at his phone. You can close the book on your relationship, and it feels just right. The train starts to move, and you turn around and walk home.

This is the stupidest situation he's ever been in, Rintarō thinks to himself.

It's been two weeks since what should have been the easiest breakup of his life, and things don't feel easy.

At first they were: your friends were annoyed but good natured, handing out the money reluctantly but with knowing expressions on their faces. He'd become too much a part of your life to simply pull out, and vice versa, so things had stayed similar.

But he felt so different, and he couldn't figure out why.

"Good one," Atsumu crows when he hears the truth of your relationship. "Really had me fooled. 'Samu, too."

"Was not!"

"Yes, you were. You thought he was playin' a fling again, not us."

"They were playin' their friends!"

"Are we not their friends, too?" Atsumu asks, wounded. "Hey, since Y/N is single now— or always was, whatever, could I—"

"Are you joking? No," Rintarō says. "What kind of question is that?"

"A perfectly valid one," sulks Atsumu. "Hey, mine!" He dives after a stray volleyball, and Rintarō stares after him distractedly.

It's almost metaphorical, the way Atsumu's easily pulled away from the topic of you by the game. Would that happen to Rintarō again? If he put in effort, and he could tell you how he felt— that he was miserable like this, that he'd gotten addicted to the way you tripped over your words because they came out too fast and the way your room smelled entirely like you and to your all-encompassing presence and touch, and he needed it, needed you back the way he'd had you and hadn't even known it— and by some miracle, you accepted, would he take it for granted? Would he ever be good enough for you?

Would he lose even the half of you he held in his palms now?

He's losing his mind, he realizes. Metaphor? In his volleyball? Unlikely.

He casts a longing look at the bleachers, then shakes his head. He needs to get his head in the game.

It's a Saturday night, and he misses you.

hey, he texts you, after forty-five minutes of agonizing deliberation. do u want to watch something? i think there's a ghibli showing at the theater but we can just stream if u want

sorry :( You respond three minutes later. can't.

rip, he sends. You don't answer. He slams his phone facedown on his comforter and lies on his back, his hands shaking. It's not until he rolls over and feels wet fabric against his cheek that he realizes he's been crying.

You feel so distant and only now he knows what he's doing wrong.

Rintarō's fallen in love with you.

"I don't know," you're saying. "I think I prefer the little jelly strawberries."

He can't focus. Every time he's around you, he nearly works up the courage to confess, to spill out every bloody, messy feeling he's had since you broke up and pray that you'll bear with him for it, but he always talks himself out of it. He can love you like this, he tells himself. His emotions aren't any less real for not being validated.

"What do you think? Rintarō?" You're snapping your fingers in front of his face. He hunches his shoulders and leans away.

"I think about your mom," he musters. You peer at him, your face far too close to his. He imagines bonking himself in the head with a thick textbook several times to remain stoic.

"You're being weird."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Walk home with me today."

"Are t— what?" He shrugs. "Okay."

He sits a little straighter. He can make it another few hours. You got this, man, be normal.

He's pretty sure he fails miserably in that regard, but he recalls you looking at him with sparkling eyes and telling him people liked his weird. He hopes you were talking about yourself.

The sky is clear and he's nearly too hot beneath his school blazer. Beside him, your steps are light, taken to the beat of a song he can't hear. Cars honk in the street and dogs bark in their backyards. He bites his lip.

"Is everything okay?" Is somehow the way he chooses to open the topic.

"Yes," you say. "But I don't think it is with you. Tell me." He crosses his arms, then uncrosses them. What is he doing? He's not sure.

"It's really stupid," he says. "Well, not really, I just think it's kind of weird, maybe, and you might not like it. Or me. I guess that's the gist of it. I like you. I think I love you. And it hurts like we broke up for real when we weren't even dating for real. You're a really good friend, and I don't want to lose that, but," he flounders. "If you wanted to try dating, again, for real, I would love to try dating, again, for real, because I think I could... I don't think I did badly, but I want to show you that I can do better." He laughs, quietly, self-deprecatingly, and slows to a stop, turning to face you.

You stare at him, lips parted and brows raised.

In the eternity stretching between the two of you, he feels something inside him crack. It's not a clean break, either. He can feel shards of himself falling to the sidewalk while you look on, his usually icy demeanor revealing the lovesick boy beneath.

You take a deep breath, and he swears he can feel it inflating his own lungs.

"Oh."

+

part two here

WAKING UP TO THEIR EMBRACE !

synopis: waking up to their embrace after staying at their place last night.

characters: childe, diluc, itto, kaeya, kazuha, xiao, zhongli

content warnings: suggestive + gn!reader

childe: when you wake up with sleepy eyes after coming home, to childe’s apartment you feel a loose arm around your waist. already noticing that the dull eyes have been staring at you before you had awaken. you cannot help but get flustered, as he presses a kiss to your head.

diluc: your back would be to his chest while he holds you by your waist, sleeping and nuzzled deep into your hair. he loved your aroma and scent and adored it so much. waking up to him is nice and cozy because he hardly snores and he usually wakes up after you do to say good morning.

itto: waking up to him is basically like being held by a huge teddy bear. he does snore a bit in the morning but perhaps it’s a sound you can get accustomed too. though if you wake up before him, he’ll just encourage you to go back to sleep.

kaeya: waking up to him feels like a short blessing, because he is so warm and hearing him praise and flirt with you at dawn is like the cherry on top. though a majority of the time his flirty comments makes you nervous so you end up burying your head into his shoulder.

kazuha: he always holds you upon his chest carefully, stroking the strands of your hair and saying good morning once your eyes meet the sun peaking through the windows. he’ll ask simple questions and always asking if you wanted to catch breakfast with him.

xiao: he generally likes to watch you fall asleep but the temptation and the urge to hold you, is way too strong which is why you awake in the morning to him pressing your head upon his chest while he tells you to go back to bed and kisses your forehead.

zhongli: oh archons, he is so gentle. he holds you very carefully and softly, making sure that you are safe in his warmth and embrace. he either has your head placed on his chest or shoulder to guarantee you comfort.

suna rintarou x fem reader, 3.2k

you drunkenly confess to Suna. he tries to confront you. your fight or flight instincts are activated.

You want to die. You’re ready to throw yourself out the window of your dorm. You almost send a text to your mom telling her how much you love her because the afterlife? That’s where you’re headed.

And no you’re not being dramatic. What you are however, is fucked.

You should have known better than to let yourself get carried away and trying to outdrink the Miya Twins at some stupid party.

Now you’ve woken up with a headache massive enough to compete with Atsumu’s big head. Honestly, this isn’t your first rodeo with hangovers- you’re a college student, and mixed with your inability to say no, parties have become a somewhat weekly thing. Plus you’re sure you can outdrink the Miya’s at some point.

The hangover isn’t the end of the world. The memory of what you did last night however- it’s enough to convince you to give up alcohol forever.

Playing beer pong with your best friend.

Losing because you have the worst hand-eye coordination.

Volunteering for karaoke and singing horrible off-key.

Trying to call for a ride home and dialing the wrong number.

Accidentally calling Suna—

God, you can’t even bring yourself to think about it, but your brain hates you. The vivid memory replays in your head over and over again. You feel sick.

Rin, you had said. I’m so in love with you, you confessed.

You said a lot of other things before that too, but really you just want to remember what Suna had said in response. You don’t think he said anything. Did you hang up immediately? Who the hell knows?

If you remember correctly, Suna was also at another party last night too. You’re hoping he was, because maybe he was also too drunk to even remember anything. Maybe the party was too loud and he didn’t even hear any of it. Besides, there were no missed calls or messages from him after that so you think you have a good chance. Suna was definitely the type to call back after receiving a confession like that.

It’s that hope that pushes you to agree to go to brunch with your group of friends. You know you could skip it and easily blame the hangover to avoid Suna, but one part of you needs to know whether he remembers the confession. You can’t live with the suspense. You have to know right now so you can decide whether to live life as normal again or whether you have to drop out of college, fake your death and move to a different country.

When you get to the brunch spot, everyone is already there. Hope begins to bloom in your chest at the prospect of getting away with it when you arrive and Suna acts normal towards you. And by normal, you mean he immediately begins teasing you.

“Damn Y/N, you tried to outdrink Atsumu again?” he asks, a smug grin on his face as you sit opposite him.

“Too loud, please shut up I’m recovering.” You respond, trying to look disgruntled rather than fucking nervous.

Suna laughs in response, the way he always does when he knows he’s getting under your skin, but his response is comforting.

“It’s ok, I’m recovering too.” he says smoothly, taking a sip of coffee.

You look at him and use what little energy you have to suppress an eyeroll. Suna looks great compared to everyone else at the table; Atsumu is unnervingly quiet as he wolfs down his food, Osamu looks like he might hurl any second, and your friend Miwa is lost in her own world as she stares at the wall.

Suna, of course, looks like a model next to your barely put together outfit consisting of sweatpants and whatever jumper was on your floor. What kind of hungover person has the time to put on a nice jacket, classic white t-shirt and fashionable black pants? Suna Rintarou apparently.

It’s not fair and you’re tempted to say something until you remember you’re trying to keep a low profile (and if you open your big mouth, you might blurt out something that definitely should not be asked over the table in front of everyone).

So you quietly order your food, listen to Atsumu boast about his upcoming game, listen to Osamu about how much he has to do for the week and ignore Miwa when she tries to convince you to run for student council with her. You avoid looking directly at Suna for too long, because you know you’ll end up looking like a tomato.

Brunch ends before you can even comprehend anything, and you’re ready to walk away from the scene with confidence that Suna either doesn’t remember what you said last night, or he’s pretending not to and won’t bring it up. Either way, you’re grateful for one less headache.

When you all get up to leave though, and you’re ready to deuce the fuck out and suffer silently in your room, you hear Suna call out your name.

You hold your breath.

“What’s up?” you ask, turning to him.

“Are you okay?” Suna asks, scratching the back of his neck. His nervous habit he never seemed to grow out of. “You’ve been quiet all morning, when usually you could compete with Atsumu for being the loudest.”

“Yeah, I'll be okay.” you respond, trying to act cool. You are the queen of casual conversations. “Nothing a good nap won’t be able to solve.”

He nods at that.

You nod back.

A heavy silence falls between the two of you, and you think this is the cue for your getaway. “Think I’m gonna go—”

“Actually,” Suna cuts you off and you look at him in anticipation for his next words. He looks nervous, not meeting your eyes as he glares holes into the wall beside him. He fiddles with his fingers. Cracks his knuckles. Takes a big breath. It’s a rare show of hesitance and nervousness for him and a pit of dread starts to build in your stomach.

Fuck, you internally scream, fuck.

Suna clears his throat, seemingly over whatever internal battle he was fighting. He still can’t meet your eyes though.

“You…” he starts, “do you remember anything from last night? Because you called me and—”

Suna doesn’t get the chance to finish the rest of his sentence because you immediately bolt out of the restaurant.

He has always activated your fight or flight response, and though you’re usually up for the challenge, today your body decides this is a flight only option. Despite Suna and his athleticism, you were on the track team for high school and you have never been more grateful for it than today when you sprint like the wind around the streets. You can hear him chase after you, calling your name, how he just wants to talk.

But you will not stop for him. You’re not ready for the talk, especially not when you’re hungover and look like shit. Besides, you’re not sure you can even formulate a convincing lie to get yourself out of it and Suna has always seen right through you.

You run fast enough that he doesn’t seem to be able to catch up to you, and when you spot a small bookstore, you immediately rush inside and hide in one of the shelves in the back. You hope he didn’t see you come inside.

You try to catch your breath, standing there pretending to look at the books while you try to rationalize your situation. You stay there for a good five minutes, then another five just to be safe. Only when the sales assistant gives you a suspicious look do you leave.

You don’t go back to your dorm immediately. Suna knows where you live. Instead, you choose to hide away in Miwa’s dorm and nurse your hangover there. She seems distracted enough that she doesn’t question why you aren’t doing it from the comfort of your own room and you end up spending the night. It’s not until the next morning when she’s running around getting ready for class do you decide to put on a brave face and head home. Thank god you have Mondays off.

For the next week you live in fear of Suna catching you off-guard around campus, so you devise a plan to leave at odd times to attend your classes. You begin taking alternative routes as well, avoiding all the places you frequently go to. You’re extra careful walking home, jumping at every noise that even sounds vaguely similar to him and running away.

Your stupid evasion tactics don’t last long though. After a week of hiding, Suna catches you just as you’re about to leave your apartment to go for a grocery run, corners you at your front door and declares, “You can run back inside and hide, but I’m not leaving.”

You gulp, knowing you're backed into a corner. You live on the fifth floor too, so sneaking out isn’t an option. Shit.

“Hey, what’s up?” you try to ask casually, fake smile on your face.

Suna looks far from impressed.

“You’ve been avoiding me for a whole week. We need to talk.”

You meekly nod, sighing and opening your door wider to let him into your room. If you’re going to be rejected, you’d rather it be in the safety of your own room than in the hallway with your nosy neighbours. You steel yourself for what’s about to happen.

You aren’t a coward Y/N. You were bound to get rejected at one point, let’s do it with a little dignity.

Suna stands a safe distance away from you, standing next to your window while you remain by  the door. You look anywhere but him, hoping he would just get it over and done with.

Suna lets out a sigh when he sees the look on your face.

“Can you stop looking like I’m going to yell at you? It’s just me, I don’t bite.”

“That’s just my face.” you pout. “Besides, I don’t want to have this conversation; can we just drop it?”

“Will you look at me?” Suna says, “You’re making me nervous. And don’t think you can run away just because you’re next to the door.”

You nod reluctantly, but you still won’t meet his eyes. Your cheeks are already starting to heat up.

“You’re really not going to look at me?” He asks, tone softer than usual that you start to feel bad. “I just want to talk to you, I promise. I’m not even angry at you, just— frustrated.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. This is Rintarou, the soft side of him you’ve only been lucky to catch a glimpse of a handful of times; this is the guy that you daydream about, the one who tells you he likes you back in some alternate universe. Rintarou is more terrifying than Suna, because you can never say no to him.

“Y/N, please?” He pleads. “I haven’t seen you in a whole week. Please just look at me.”

Already, you’re lifting your head to look in his eyes. See? This is what he does to you, soft spoken words and you’re already putty in his hands, willing to bend over backwards just to make him happy. Almost like a reward for your bravery, Suna flashes his signature smile at you, and you almost melt.

“Ah,” he says softly, walking towards you and cupping both your cheeks in his hands, “there she is.”

Your cheeks heat up even more, and you try to turn away once more but he holds your head firmly in place.

“Will you be honest with me?”

Do you have any other choice? You nod, slowly, hesitantly, but it’s enough for him.

“Last Saturday night, when there was a full moon, you called me super duper drunk,” he starts, “and said, Suna Rintarou I hate you and your stupid face and your stupid smile and your stupid hands I think about holding all the time, did you mean it?”

Oh my god. You want the ground to suddenly open up and swallow you whole. You want an asteroid to suddenly hit the earth and destroy all living things. Anything  to get you away from the scene unfolding before you.

You stare at the little freckle on his cheek. “Yes.”

“You’re a terrible liar. My mother says I’m very handsome, so why would you call my face stupid?”

In between your thoughts of curling into a ball to feel sorry for yourself and bolting out of the room far away from Suna, you manage to roll your eyes.

“Where are you going with this?”

Suna completely ignores you.

“Moving on, you said, why are you so stupid Suna Rintarou? You’re so stupid when it comes to doing your homework on time and making all those stupid jokes. You always tease me more than anyone else, and it’s not fair that you target me when Atsumu literally exists—”

“Oh my god,” you interrupt, “did you memorize this or something?”

“Studied it better than any of my notes for a test.” he teases. “But don’t worry, I haven't even got to the good part yet.”

You could punch him right now. You really could.

“And after that you said, I hate how you make me feel special like that, you make me delusional enough to think that maybe I am special to you and that’s why you always choose me as your target. I hate that you’ve been blessed with everything but a goddamn brain, because if you did then maybe you’d realize it before I even had to tell you.”

“Maybe,” he heaves out a breath and smiles at you, “maybe if you did then you’d realize that I’ve been in love with you for the past year and a half.” Suna looks into your eyes then, and there’s a glint in his eye you’ve never seen till now. “Rin, you said my name softly like that, I’m so in love with you.”

“I—” you try to start but he’s left you speechless. You can’t believe he remembered everything you said.

“Though, my favourite part is when you said all those sweet things then proceeded to yell ‘you suck!’ into the phone then hung up before I could even say anything.” Suna giggles, he giggles, and you realize he thinks this whole situation is funny. He sobers up quickly, then his eyes seem to start analyzing you, searching for something. “I tried bringing it up with you last week, but you ran away before I could even say anything. And all this time, I’ve just… I’ve been wondering whether you meant it.”

You stare at him blankly, still trying to process his words. You’re sure that you’ve lost all your brain cells in a week because you’re still at a loss of what to say. But there’s nothing left to hide anyway, is there?

“Yes, I meant it. The last part,” you gulp, “I really meant it.”

“The part where you said that I sucked?” he asks, eyebrow raised questioningly.

You scowl at him. “You know what I mean! The last part!”

“The part where you said I’ve been blessed with everything but brains? Or the part where you called my jokes stupid?”

You can’t believe the nerve of this guy. Stupid, stupid, stupid motherfucking Suna Rintarou. You hate the fact that he’s teasing you over your feelings like this.

“You really do suck. So much. You’re the worst person I know. Fine. Yes I meant it, yes I’ve been in love with you for the past year and half you idiot. It’s all true okay.” you finally admit, exasperated. “So can you just stop wasting my time? Reject me already, so I can cry about it and glow up and make you regret your life decisions and—”

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear those words from you?” Suna asks suddenly, looking at you so earnestly you stop your rambling. “This isn’t how I pictured you saying it, and honestly I figured I would do it first, but this works too I guess. It was meant to be a lot more romantic, and you weren’t insulting me every five seconds when declaring your undying love for me—”

You cannot believe what you’re hearing right now.

“But… this works too.”  he says. “I’m in love with you too, been in love for a while now actually and I never really knew how to say it. So when you confessed last week, I just thought it was the perfect time to… you know.”

Now he’s the one blushing.

“What the fuck?” is all you can say right now.

Suna can sense that you’re about to ramble and ask a million questions so he beats you to it.

“I think we should kiss right now.” is all he says, before leaning dangerously close to you.

You immediately put your hand on his chest to stop him, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

“Hold on! What the hell, I’m still processing this Rin!”

Suna looks at you in confusion, already pulling you in closer again. “What is there left to process? I waited a whole week for you already!”

“You had a whole week to process my feelings— you’ve given me like five minutes!” you exclaim. “I don’t even think I’m awake right now, quick pinch me so I know it’s real.”

“Maybe if you come and kiss me you’ll know it’s real.” Suna says, stupud smirk on his face. “Come on pretty girl, process it later, I want my kiss.”

“Who says I want to kiss you?” you counter, but your resolve is already crumbling by the second.

He shoots you an incredulous look. “Seriously? You’re going to play hard to get right now? I’m here ready to kiss you and—”

You bolt away from his hold, giggling as you run towards the door but Suna doesn’t let you take more than two steps away from him.

“I’m serious, Y/N. I’ve been thinking about this for the past week, been dreaming about it much longer than that. Can I please kiss you?”

You would be a fool to deny him when you’ve been dreaming of the exact same thing as well. So you offer him a small nod, and that’s all it takes before he pulls you towards him, so gently, as if you’re fragile.

He cups your cheeks in his hands, smiling at you as if you are the sun itself. The light from your window seeps in at that moment and lights up his eyes in a way that makes you fall in love all over again.

He brushes his nose softly against yours, eyes closing as you smile in anticipation. Just when you can’t wait anymore, you feel his lips against yours and you can’t help but melt in his arms, your body flush against him.

You don’t know how to describe what it feels like to finally kiss him. He tastes of mint, lips languidly moving against yours, not too harsh but just enough that it leaves you wanting more and more (you don’t know if you’ll ever get enough of him).

After a considerable amount of time, you both pull away, chests heaving as your foreheads bump against each other.

“Well?” you ask, still basking in the moment as you gaze up at him.

He smiles back. “I’m glad you called me.”

“I’m glad I did too.”

a/n: I wanted to read a drunk confession fic with Suna but couldn't find one so... I wrote it. (I am the change I want to see in the world.)

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

after the ceremony

haikyuu boys as unintentionally flustering things

this has been in my drafts for a bit n i intended to add more boys but i also wanted to put something out for you guys!! so i hope you enjoy :)

includes; suna rintarō, oikawa tōru, iwaizumi hajime, matsukawa issei, miya osamu, miya atsumu, semi eita, akaashi keiji, bokuto kōtarō, kageyama tobio, sakusa kiyoomi, sugawara kōshi, hanamaki takahiro, tanaka ryūnosuke, ushijima wakatoshi, konoha akinori, tsukishima kei

suna rintarō — sitting really close next to someone and having your shoulders and thighs pressed together.

the way your skin feels ablaze and your body’s so tense and you feel a little lightheaded is so intoxicating. you crave more, so much more, but you’ll take what you can get. neither of you make any move to get away, enjoying this minimal physical contact with one another. like you’re both just sitting there and making excuses to stay sitting stuck to each other like this, even if there’s space. for a moment, he does move forward to grab at something in front of him and you deflate a little, but he comes back right away, pressing himself to you and even leaning close to show you something on his phone.

oikawa tōru — leaning down to hear someone clearer or to allow them to whisper in his ear.

oikawa’s incredibly tall, has always been and will always be. he was tall in high school and he‘s tall now, and of course he prides himself in that. half his ego comes from his height. so, given that, more often that not whenever you urgently rush up to him to tell him something, he has to lean down to hear you better, even if you’re only slightly shorter than him. just the way he leans in and tilts his head to the side slightly, eyes unfocused as he listens in before he smiles and twists his head to answer you and his face is so close to yours shbsdjxj

matsukawa issei — manspreading, but not the dickhead type.

the way he sits is always like he’s so effortlessly attractive. he’s kinda slumped in his chair or on the couch like he’s not sitting straight but rather lazily sliding down you know? when he sits, he’s got his legs spread wide and either his hands interlocked and resting on his stomach/crotch, or an arm behind the couch and a hand on his thigh or chest. he always looks??? so inviting??? like you want to go sit on his lap?? and sometimes he leans forward and rests his elbows on his thighs and god. God.

iwaizumi hajime — when guys park in reverse and do The Thing with the steering wheel and The Other Thing with their arm.

iwaizumi’s driving the two of you the majority of the time, not because he doesn’t believe in your driving skills (he doesn’t, rude) but because he kinda just wants to serve you always? like do all he can for you? acts of service ykyk,,, anyways whenever he’s parallel parking or parking in reverse, he starts to do the thing with the steering wheel where he uses only the lower palm of his hand to quickly twist it, and then he puts his arm out onto your seat to glance back and god,,, God.

miya osamu — when guys put their hand just barely on the small of your back when guiding you somewhere.

it’s kind of instinctive with osamu, where he just does it in the moment and you’re left with your nerves on edge and your body on fire for the rest of the night. like you’re trying to get past him to go to your seat or he’s leading you to the window seat on a bus or he’s opening the door for you and gently guiding you. it’s so subtle, his fingertips grazing your back and heat of his palm barely obvious and somehow it’s both the quickest and slowest moment of your life. your back tingles and burns alive for the entire night and the day after too.

miya atsumu — naturally good with kids it’s kind of ??? surprising ???

he’s weirdly like just so good with kids. he’s not awkward and is so smooth when it comes to communicating with them. they always listen to him because he’s just that fun that it feels right to abide by his rules. he’s also always going with the flow too so if the girls dress him up and make him their prince he’ll act accordingly, and if the boys wanna pretend to wrestle him he’ll lose on purpose and he’ll play dead if he gets shot with a nerf gun seriously give this man an oscar. it’s just so endearing watching him there’s no way you wouldn’t wanna marry him.

semi eita — just playing the electric guitar. every instrument too but electric guitar specifically.

the way he casually picks up the guitar and tunes it. the way his fingers move over the strings, the way he glances down barely but then looks up with a small, confident smile because it’s muscle memory for him. the way he shakes his head a little in time with the music. the way he grips the guitar to return it to its place. musician!semi with a lot of rings and chains on and chipped black nail polish. it just <3333

akaashi keiji — saying your name in a conversation

cannot explain what’s so hbwjdnejdd about someone saying your name in the middle of a conversation you’re having. like the need to grab your attention, the way it sounds, the implied and unintended intimacy. like names aren’t generally said a lot during conversations (your name & the person you’re talking to) so when they or you say it, it’s a very lightbulb moment kinda like your attention is completely fixated now.

kuroo tetsurō — that cheeky smile with the tongue to the upper corner of their mouth that guys do.

it’s like a smirk but not really a smirk, where he’s barely smiling down at you, and it’s so teasing. his tongue pokes at the upper corner of his mouth just slightly, and he raises a brow or something. it’s just the type of look that makes your heart tighten in your chest, or makes your stomach flutter and tickle. and the thing is he’s aware he looks good doing it, but he’s so subtly confident that it’s a thousand times more attractive.

bokuto kōtarō — that little celebratory thing guys do after a win/score. let me explain.

so he’s fist pumping the air, leaning back a little and bending his knees. he’s got this feral grin on his face and he’s so sweaty that his uniform’s clinging onto every ridge and muscle and best of all— the way his thighs bulge against the long knee pads he’s wearing. he just looks so good being that happy, high off so much adrenaline. and that surge of confidence it brings him after too!!

kageyama tobio — when they’re super sweaty during a game and guys just grab the hem of their shirt to wipe their sweat

it’s usually during practice matches, and at first it’s always like grabs the neck and wipes. but then it just ends up being frustrating that he has to grab the hem of his shirt. he lifts it up with both hands and just wipes his face, and you’re gifted with the sight of his glistening abs and that trail of hair that leads down into his shorts. he’s so casual about it too like he won’t really realize the consequences of his actions even if some girls are straight up fainting at the sight. i think it’s his nonchalance that makes it even more attractive.

hinata shōyō — those hugs that guys give where you’re swallowed up in their embrace.

it’s a very casual kind of hug, the one where he can continue having a conversation but continue hugging you. it’s that type where he had both arms wrapped tight around you, basically caging you in against his chest. and he starts to do that thing where he’ll rub soothingly or squeeze endearingly, maybe rock you two from side to side while sighing casually. it’s the kind of hug where you’d really needed it and he’s indulging you. you’re silent and just reveling in his touch.

sakusa kiyoomi — that smile where they’re like trying to humor you.

when guys do that thing when you make like a joke or try to one up them somehow and they kinda huff out a laugh or dry chuckle and smile in amusement like yeah ok. it’s kind of a belittling yet challenging smile? sometimes he raises a brow too and he’s so chill and completely unaffected otherwise, with his hands in his pockets and a mask obscuring half his face and then it’s just a raised brow and the hint of a smile seen through his eyes. and he’s staring you down too?? good god

sugawara kōshi — when you nearly trip or fall and they reach out for you.

it’s like that heart stopping near fall and then he gets all wide eyed and reaches out for you, saying “woah, careful” in that really soft, gentle voice. even better if he grabs at your arm or presses his hand on the small of your back to steady you even if you are steady. does he make fun of you after? yes. but it’s still really attractive the way he gets all worried and grows really soft for you in the moment.

hanamaki takahiro — when they can keep up with your energy.

the banter is endless with the two of you. every thing you say he’s got a comeback, a witter, funnier, probably more sexual comeback. it’s so like? exciting? the way he’s always challenging you. he’s always got something to make fun of you of, even if it’s not real and made up. and he says it so smooth and it’s always, always, right in the moment. like he thinks of it in the spot. the fact that it just naturally comes to him how he can keep up with you and match your energy is so, so attractive.

tanaka ryūnosuke — when funny, light hearted guys get super serious about something

he’s always chill and always cracking jokes. he’s everyone’s comfort person, and no matter the situation he can be relied on to cheer and lighten up the mood. but sometimes shit gets serious, like if you’re hurt or something, and he does not crack a single joke. nothing. he won’t attempt to lighten up the mood because he cannot bring himself to. especially if he’s like protective and angry, he gets super quiet and won’t take shit from anyone it’s both heart warming and kinda scary.

ushijima wakatoshi — when serious, solemn, no jokes guys let loose

the complete opposite! ushijima’s super serious and he honestly doesn’t get jokes to even consider making them. he’s a very strong and reliable presence, like a literal pillar. but then maybe you do something stupid or you buy him a snack he’s been wanting and he smiles so softly, so sweetly, and his face just relaxes and softens and his eyes are so kind that you instantly melt. because it’s a sight that‘s as rare as it is makes it all the more endearing.

kozume kenma — when guys have a softer smell rather than a strong, cologne.

when i say softer i don’t mean girlier. i just mean softer. like maybe it’s a fresher smell (like minty) or maybe it’s a more floral smell like jasmine or lavender, or maybe it’s like warm tones (like cinnamon). either way, no matter what he smells like, it’s subtle but there. especially if you sit directly next to him or pass by him. you get a whiff of him and it’s so? calming? alluring? intoxicating in the most subtle way? idk. just. attractive.

konoha akinori — when guys stretch while they’re sitting and their shirts ride up.

he‘s just sitting there minding his own business, relaxing, chatting. he’s had a long day and his muscles are all tight and tense, so he just lifts up his arms and stretches, groaning a little and sighing, in relief and satisfaction, as the tension is relieved. his shirt rides up a bit and he even leans back too, exposing more of his lean abdomen. and when he sags in his chair after he’s got this delirious, satisfied smile or smirk on his face.

tsukishima kei — when a guy is explaining something to you and is demonstrating

like the way he’s trying to explain something on a computer and you’ve got the screen before you so he reaches across you to point something out and then suddenly the two of you are really close?? or if he’s writing down something on paper and he keeps looking up as he’s explaining to see if you’re getting it and to keep you engaged. or when he’s just explaining something and he just. sounds smart. you don’t get a thing but it’s fascinating.

jerk.

because bakugou katsuki is a jerk but he's also unfortunately your soulmate.

a/n: wooooooohhhhh i love soulmate aus so much omg

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader

You’ve known he was your soulmate from the first day at U.A. 

When he’d bumped into you, steaming with anger in that way he regularly was and had spat at you; “move it, extra, or i’ll make you” – and you’d known then because those were the words written across you hip since you’d turn five and it had manifested with your quirk.

Because that was how the world was. Nowadays, it was odd to find someone without a quirk and even harder to find someone without a soulmate and you’d grown up your whole life having those awful words written on your skin. Had grown up knowing that for whatever reason, the soulmate you’d been given didn’t say warm, intimate words to you or even just simply generic words. Your friends had always had such nice sentences from their soulmates, with pretty words or a happy greeting.

And in yours you’d been called an extra.

Whatever the hell that meant.

You’ve never been excited to meet your soulmate. Not once. Not when you were five, or eight or twelve or when you started noticing people in a way you hadn’t before, more romantically. Not when you started maturing and growing up. Those words glared at you every time you stared at them and you didn’t want a single thing to do with your soulmate.

Not ever.

That is only doubled when you realize who your soulmate is. Maybe there was always a small part of you that hoped the words were misunderstood; you’d make scenarios up in your head about how those words could be teasing or even just a misunderstanding. 

When they’re spat at you by an intimidating blonde man that looks like there’s actual steam pouring from his ears, with piercing red eyes that cut into you like you’d done some horrible thing to deserve his anger… you understand then that they weren’t teasing and they aren’t a misunderstanding. They’re cruel and they’re mean and dismissive and hurtful and every horrible thing piled together by a man who is even worse beyond just his first words to you.

So you make it your goal that he never finds out you’re his soulmate in return.

You avoid him. Desperately. You’re barely a person in his own head so it isn’t all that hard to do. Even as the rest of the class grows closer and bonds, it seems Bakugou is just as content to ignore everyone else as you are to be ignored by him. Sure, some worm their way into his heart, like Kirishima or Midoriya and Shoto, but nobody else really seemed to matter. At least, you didn’t. You had the same friends, you were in the same class, and eventually, you ended up sleeping in the same building. 

You saw him everyday. You ate in the same kitchen and relaxed in the same living room. You trained in the same gym and overall, were consistently near each other. But you didn’t speak to him and he’d never tried to speak to you after that first day. Months pass and it continues on this way and you’re sure he doesn’t even know what your name is.

Or that you really even exist.

And you’re happy with that.

Content.

Because while the idea of a soulmate was romantic and heartwarming and something you dreamed about, him being your soulmate sounds horrible.

And it was best he just never even knew.

He was so focused on becoming number one, you’re not sure he even cares about finding his. 

Which is fine. Works better for you in the end.

-

“Y/L/N and Bakugou. You two are teamed up for combat practice today.”

You freeze at Aizawa-sensei’s words, body tensing as your eyes instantly shoot towards Bakugou. He’s already looking at you, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed as he lets his eyes drag across you; it’s clear he’s assessing you. Maybe trying to remember your name or if he’s ever seen you before.

It wouldn’t surprise you if he was.

Somehow, in all your months of being in the same class as Bakugou, you’ve never once been partnered up with him for anything. You think once you may have been put in a group with him, but that was with several others so it'd been easy enough to avoid him.

One on one though? That was going to be harder.

Way harder.

“Good luck,” Mina calls from beside you, squeezing your shoulder before she moves to meet up with her partner; it looks like she’d gotten Jirou. Lucky. 

Watching everyone else disperse tells you that you can’t just stand there like an idiot anymore. You take a deep breath, ignoring the nerves that course through you as you make your way over to Bakugou. As you make contact with him again, you realize he’s not moving; obviously he expects you to come to him.

Jerk.

When you reach him, the two of you just stare at each other and since you’re certainly not going to speak first, there’s a moment of awkward silence before Bakugou grunts; “ready?”

You nod and he isn’t confused by your silence so the two of you walk off to an open area in the gym. He stands across from you, gives you a look and then is racing towards you. You’re not sure why Aizawa-sensei teams you up with Bakugou because your quirks definitely don’t mesh well together and it’s clear Bakugou is stronger, but you’re able to hold up well enough on your own.

You even manage to land a hit on Bakugou once that clearly surprises him and you take it as a win.

And a little payback for being such an ass.

Then, when the class is over and you’ve promptly been knocked on your ass in return, you’re surprised to see a hand stretched out in front of you, invitingly. You blink, eyes drifting upwards only to meet Bakugou’s as he stares down at you. He’s not smiling and he doesn’t look all that friendly, but he nods his head in recognition.

“Good job.”

The words are such a shock your brain short circuits for a minute. Not only are the words the nicest thing you’ve ever heard Bakugou say (which is saying a lot) but his voice wasn’t gruff or aggressive like it normally is–it was… soft, almost? Maybe not soft but… normal. Just… calm.

Your heart is lurching at the sound before you even realize and then you’re pushing yourself up to your feet, basically smacking his hand out of the way and running out of the room without another word.

-

After that, Bakugou doesn’t seem to leave you alone.

He’s everywhere.

And not everywhere in the way he had been before. He’s not there in passing or just across the room from you, he’s asking to train with you or deliberately making sure he’s the only one left for you to partner with. He seems to always be in the kitchen when you want to eat or in the living room when you want to vedge after a long day.

He’s constantly there.

Not to mention, gone are his glares or looks of indifference. He’s always looking at you, making sure you know he knows you’re there; even if the two of you are in class or with a group of classmates. He makes note of acknowledging you. The others seem to notice too because the girls start asking what you did to get Bakugou’s attention and you promptly tell them you have no idea.

Of course, they don’t know Bakugou’s your soulmate so they don’t really get the scope of your panic. And it’s not that you don’t trust them, especially after all you’d been through as a class, but more because the less that knew, the less likely Bakugou was to know.

But now? Now it was getting hard to avoid him and it was even harder not to say something without it looking obvious why you weren’t.

You were promptly fucked.

You are able to stall it for all of two weeks before you’re cornered by Bakugou.

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

Your wide eyes fall on him, not only shocked by his presence but panicked by his words because there were few things a sentence like that could mean. 

A quick glance around tells you there’s no way to get past him without Bakugou being able to block him and since it had already been made clear that he was in fact stronger than you, you knew there was no escape. Everyone else was gone since you’d snuck out of training to grab a bite to eat and it seemed like Bakugou had snuck out the same to follow you.

So yeah, you were screwed.

Bakugou lets out a huff at your silence and he takes another step towards you, further crowding you and you swallow thickly when he steps into your personal space. You move to walk back but then your back is pressing against the wall of the kitchen and Bakugou is completely shrouding you, it's hard to look anywhere but at him.

“Do you think I don’t know why you won’t speak to me?”

Inhaling sharply, you turn your head to the right, determined to avoid his steely red eyes that feel like they’re piercing into your very soul. You focus on the handle to the cupboard to your right and try to ignore the growl he lets out in response.

He takes another step forward and suddenly he’s inches apart, close enough you can feel his breath drift across your skin, warm to the touch.

“It wasn’t hard to figure out after you ran from me that day when we were partnered up,” Bakugou continues. “Especially when I started to realize you’ve never talked to me. And then? Avoiding me for the last two weeks? It’s not hard to figure out.”

You halt, freezing, waiting for the words—

“You’re my soulmate.”

You refuse to look at him. You won’t look at him. 

Maybe if you just ignore him, he’ll go away. He’ll just… leave. He doesn’t like being ignored, that much you’ve gathered and so if you just refuse to–

Suddenly his hands are on your arms and his chest is against yours and he’s way too close. “Hey,” he huffs, “look at me.”

You don’t listen. Even as you tense beneath his grip, you refuse to do anything, to give him any sort of reaction. If you give him a reaction, he’ll get what he wants. And you’re not thinking straight. You need to just wait, wait until he’s bored and then you can think—figure this out because surely–

“Y/L/N,” he calls and you’re surprised he even knows your name, “look at me. Hey. I’m right, aren’t I? Why else wouldn't you fucking looking at me.” You continue to remain silent and Bakugou lets out a low growl. “Fucks sake. I’m not leaving until you say something so you might as well—”

“—I’m not saying anything to you because you’re a jerk!”

Well, that certainly could’ve gone better.

The words leave your lips before you even realize you’ve said them. The second you’re done, your chest is heaving and you finally turn your head, eyes snapping to Bakugou’s, fearing his reaction at your rather blunt and rude words.

But, a second later, instead of being angry like you’d expected, Bakugou starts… laughing.

You’re not sure you’ve ever seen the boy laugh, certainly not that genuinely. His lips are parted and his eyes have squeezed shut and the laugh that leaves his lips is pure and genuine and loud and it’s so unlike anything you’ve ever heard from him you’re stunned stupid as you stare back at him with your lips left parted, jaw slacked.

As his laughter fades, Bakugou meets your gaze.

“I’ve been waiting to hear those words for years,” he starts, still smiling–actually smiling this time. Not a smirk. But an affectionate grin. “Wasn’t sure what I did to deserve those words, but it seems fitting.”

Blinking, once, twice, you sputter, snapped out of your stupor. “I–I… You jerk!”

“I think we’ve established that already, babe.”

You barely even notice the nickname. If it wasn’t for the way your heart races at the sound, you’re sure your stupefied mind wouldn’t have caught it because seriously, what the hell?

“You… this is exactly why I didn’t want to say anything!” You cry out, not sure if you’re defending yourself for him or more for yourself. Why are you even defending yourself? And what against? “You’re insufferable. And rude. And cocky. And a jerk.”

Bakugou just snorts. “What are your words?” He asks, smile fading slightly as his expression turns more serious; almost solemn. Regretful. “Must’ve been bad if you had to avoid me.”

You’re surprised by the guilt in his tone, but it gives you the confidence to answer. “‘Move it, extra, or I’ll make you’,” you mumble, fiddling with your hands. “You said it the first day we started here at U.A.”

“Shit,” Bakugou curses, running a hand through his hair. “So you’ve been avoiding me for months?”

Your eyes flick to his before lowering and that gives him his answer.

He shifts. “L-Listen… uh, sorry about… about cornering you like this.”

Blinking, you tilt your head up. You’re shocked to see a red tinge to his cheeks. 

“I just needed to know,” he finishes explaining. “And I’m sorry about that shit I said to you. My soulmate doesn’t deserve that crap but I can’t take it back, so I’ll just make sure I make up for it.”

You’re positive now that you’re hallucinating this whole thing.

“What?”

He blinks down at you at your screech before smirking.

“Well, I mean, as we get to know each other,” he says, like it’s obvious. “I’m shit with words but I’ll try for you. I'm good with showing though,” and he looks a little too pleased with himself.

But you can barely focus on the very blatant meaning of his words, you're still trying to catch up. “You…” and you hesitate, not sure if you’re hearing this correctly. “You want to get to know me?”

And he looks at you like you’re dumb.

“Duh,” he shrugs, “you’re my soulmate.”

“What about being number one?”

“What about it?” he argues, shaking his head. “That’ll still happen. You think I can’t do that while also dating you?”

Your eyes widen; “dating?”

“Yeah,” he says, again like you’re dumb. He takes a step towards you, once again closing the gap between you and his hands falling on your waist, pulling a gasp from your lips at the touch that causes him to smirk, as if proud. “You’re my soulmate. Of course we’re going to date.”

“I barely know you!”

“That’s why we’ll get to know each other.”

You just stare up at him.

“You really are insufferable,” is what you manage to say in the end, exasperated. Your shoulders fall and your body sags but you don’t pull away from his touch and even if you’re not fully aware of it, you’re pretty sure you end up leaning into him.

“You’ll learn to love it,” he shrugs, still grinning. “Now, let’s go back to training. We need to work on your defense.”

Blinking, you turn to him as he shifts the both of you, guiding you forwards. “Hey!”

“What,” he shrugs down at you. “It’s true. You were barely able to block my hits when we fought.”

You can’t find the words to say so you simply let him lead you along, trying to ignore the way his hands make your skin tingle and your heart race. Or, really, the way that despite everything, you really don’t mind.

If anything, you actually like it.

Fuck—he really is a jerk.

“hello, my love.”

shouto todoroki’s morning voice makes you swoon — it’s rough around the edges and soft in the middle, like a sweet melody for your ears.

“good morning, shouto.”

you admire him in all of his glory; his hair is slicked back since he took a shower and it’s still damp (you can clearly see him pushing it back, annoyed huff leaving his lips. the thought makes you smile). he’s shirtless — toned chest almost glittering under the golden sunlight — but wearing loose tweed pants.

“how’d you sleep?” he asks, chops some melon and places it on a plate as you walk over to him.

“splendidly well,” you wrap your arms around his waist, bury your nose into his chest — he smells like peony and rose water body wash and feels soft, smooth. you’re embraced by comfort. you look up, grin at his pretty face. “and you?”

shouto leans down to kiss you — a kiss that tastes like tea, a sweet little kiss that makes you smile even more, wakes you up for the day. “also splendidly well. someone was clinging onto me and they continued to murmur they were cold, so. it was an eventful night.” he shrugs.

you hop on the countertop as he goes to turn on the stove, takes out some eggs from the fridge. there’s a tiny smile on his face and it’s contagious as hell.

“if i remember correctly, you were also hugging me closer to you.”

“oh, so now i can’t hug the person i’m marrying?!”

you giggle like a lovesick fool. “you’re impossible, mr. shouto todoroki.”

“i get that a lot in the office.” he wiggles in between your legs and you swear his eyes are in the shapes of hearts. and then, quite suddenly, he’s holding your chin — thumb grazing your bottom lip, making you taste the fruit he was cutting.

it’s quiet, barely above a whisper, but you hear it either way — i love you. and he plants a kiss on your lips, wraps his arms around your waist.

with a kiss from his lips you go to heaven and speak to god. with a touch from his hand your soul shivers.

his forehead rests against yours and it feels like you’ve become one for the thousandth time. he smiles, almost giggles. “okay, let me make you some breakfast.”

you feel loved. and you think it’s because you’re drowning in shouto todoroki’s love. and he feels the same way, too, lets you know in these little moments.

REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!

hq captain squad from a fic called ‘In the Woods of Japan’ where a hiking trip goes terribly wrong :’)

“ first i love you ” [ bnha ]

→ pairing: separate, bakugou, deku, kirishima, shouto, denki, hawks, dabi x gn!reader

→ a/n: gn!reader, no real rhyme or reason to who says it first- i just didn't wanna get too repetitive so some of the characters say it first and in some you say it first! just kinda depended. these kinda suck :/ been in a slump.

— DABI:

touya thought you were asleep or he wouldn't have admitted the words for months- even if he knew they were true. he's always been more talkative when tired, tucking his face into your neck and mumbling his affections into the skin. telling you that he missed you and that you weren't allowed to leave. but he hadn't crossed that line, tiptoeing around the words. he thought you had fallen asleep hours ago, nestled between you and the couch with your breath against his temple. he's so warm and content his thoughts just... pour out, "i love you." tucks himself further into you when he feels your lips on his forehead, echoing the words.

— HAWKS:

keigo said it accidentally but not without thought. the words had been rattling around in his mind for months, sitting heavy on his tongue. you were sitting on his bathroom floor, one wing folded in your lap and the other tucked away. he was so consumed by you, the feeling of your fingers picking through his feathers- delicate and oil-slicked- it just happened. you helping him preen wasn't rare, but it always took so long- so much effort- and you never complained. he cups your face in his hands, eyes warm pools of honey, and presses a soft kiss to your lips, "thank you." his forehead knocks against yours, nose dragging against your cheek, "i love you."

— BAKUGOU:

katsuki hadn't expected it. he hadn't been doing anything special- he had heated your dinner for you and brought you painkillers for a headache. but when he entered the room, you'd smiled at him, "thank you kats, I love you." his mind runs away from him, words tangling together and weighing on his tongue- burning a hole through his teeth. he wanted to say something, anything, instead he stared at you- watching the part of your mouth around the words. he wanted to say something profound, wax poetic about how much you meant to him- how much you'd always meant to him. instead, he huffed and his shoulders dropped, "better fucking like it." his chest felt tight, lessened when your thumbs graze his cheekbone, "I love you, too."

— MIDORIYA:

izuku had it all planned- plotted out to go perfectly, to show you just how much you meant to him. he'd had the date in his calendar for a month, a date he spent a week getting right and a little monologue he'd written and rewritten on index cards. he wanted it to be perfect, memorable, something you'd gush about to your friends- which it was, just not how he thought it would be. it rained. such a small thing which disrupted his entire day. he saw you, drenched from the rain and beaming at the sky with your head tilted back, he blanked. you just looked so pretty he said it without thinking, "I love you."

— KIRISHIMA:

eijirou always knew he loved you- well before he asked you out- it was just a matter of finding a time to tell you. he puts so much thought into it, plans a date and builds a bouquet with all your favourite flowers. spends half the date swiping his hands on his thighs and rehearsing what he wants to say- how he wants to tell you. you beat him to it, though, running your fingers through his hair under a thick quilt and staring up at the heart patterned roof of your fort. "I love you, Eij." he can't even be mad as he nuzzles further into your stomach, pressing a kiss to any skin he can reach and returning the words.

— TODOROKI:

shouto says it too quickly. sitting across from you on your third date- it slips out. it wasn't anything big, the date, dinner and a movie marathon. but you'd leaned over to wipe his upper lip, one hand curled around his jaw to tip his head back and the other thumb softly swiping at his lip. it made him feel all warm, cared for. he felt that thing- that tightness and heat- fill his chest at the side of your tongue between your teeth, peeking through your soft little concentrated smile, "I love you." he doesn't understand why you get so flustered but is dazed when you cup his jaw and return the affection.

— KAMINARI:

denki hadn't really expected you to say it- standing slack-jawed and doey eyed. he knew that he meant a lot to you, that you went out of your way to think about him, care for him- but loving him was something else. something he hadn't thought about. he's nearly vibrating, shoving his face- large smile pressing into your skin- against your neck. hooks his fingers into the back of your shirt, dotting kisses over the length of your collar, "i love you too." bright eyes meet your own, "so much."

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