The Special Relationship Is As Strong As Ever, Lads

texas red | joel miller x reader, 18+

summary: Joel ain’t used to lovin’ like yours.

warnings: dbf!joel, married!joel so cheating, cowboy!joel, college!reader, big girthed up age gap (unspecified age for reader but somewhere in early 20s, 56 year old joel) mutual pining, yes there is angst, yes there is guilt, yes there is a lot of smut (unprotected piv sex, dirty talk, mentions of choking, spitting, etc etc etc.)

a. note: not spell checked :) started this as a smut piece and really just fell in love with what I had cooking. prob one of my fave pieces to date. hope y'all enjoy. love you <3

You loved on him like a summer’s day. No, not that kind of summer’s day.

A hot, thick, long summer’s day, the kind that clung to your skin even inside the air conditioning, so thick on your body that you just couldn’t forget about the humidity clamoring about outside. The kind of day where the sun beats down against the pavement and creates waves around sheets of metal, the kind that has you panting and gasping for air if you walk more than ten steps in any direction.

You loved on him the way a flame loves on a log- fiercely, unapologetically, brightly.

You loved him like an Austin, Texas summer day.

Home from college, a close family friend offered you substantial pay if you helped him out on his ranch. He had no help, was fifty-six years old, and found himself awfully lonesome. Sure, you weren’t much of a cowgirl- but for your dad’s best friend Joel Miller, you’d be anything he wanted you to be.

You suppose that’s how you got into this situation.

Skirt hiked up to your thighs, panties hanging off your ankle, and his cock buried deep inside your wet, impolite pussy.

“She’s takin’ me so good, ain’t she sugar? Always so good for your daddy.” His teeth sunk into your shoulder, fingertips grasping greedily at the dimpled skin of your ass. Joel was panting like a dog, crushed by the weight of your chest, your skin sticking together like fly traps.

Every so often, a gentle breeze would rummage through the windows and rustle about on the sheets of his bed, but it wasn’t enough to satiate the fire burning hot between your bodies.

Drool was dribbling at the corner of your cherry red lips, thick with the gloss that you had forgotten you applied. You were too concentrated on bouncing on his length, drunk on the feeling of his swollen tip melting into your g-spot with every grind and thrust of his jutting hips.

Your neck fell back, and his umber eyes seared holes into the soft skin, wet with a sheen of shining sweat. As Joel dragged his tongue along the edge of your jaw, his hand holding your chin in place, your thighs clenched around his own, the grip you had on his shoulders tightening at his gentle assault.

He was everything to you in this moment. You were breathing him in, taking him in, loving him in.

How could you not?

“Joel.” You begged.

“What is it, darlin’? Tell me what’s on your mind.” His voice was nothing but a coo, teasing in a way that barely got under your skin, but managed to just enough so that it left you craving more.

"Please, Joel."

You weren't too sure what you were asking for, what you needed most in this moment. What you craved was something you couldn't have. You felt it rumbling and tumbling in the confines of your stomach, that cloak of guilt slowly creeping up from behind you, but you never let it reach your face, never let it linger on your tongue.

Hush. Hush.

Focus on him. On this lovin' that he's giving you.

Lovin'? You could have laughed. This wasn’t love. This was lust. An illicit affair that neither of you ever put much thought into, because thinking lead to guilt.

And right now, with his balls slapping against your ass and his cock buried eight heavenly inches deep inside your leaking cunt, guilt was the last thing you wanted to feel. So instead you focused on the way his hot breath felt fanning across your sweat covered chest, focused on the way his finger tips felt digging deep into your skin, so deep it felt as though just a smidgen harder and his blunt nails would cause blood to spill.

His teeth were clamped around your neck like he was a hungry wolf in the pen and you were the prettiest sacrificial lamb, a dangerous mark forming beneath your ear from where he suckled.

You could feel that string.

That impossibly tight string that bound you two together, physically, mentally- in every way possible. That red line of fate that somehow tangled around your bodies and forced you together. If you had a pair of scissors, you wouldn't even be able to cut it, your hand wouldn't allow. There was something enigmatic about the cowboy Joel Miller that drew you in, something brewing beneath the surface that you could never turn away from.

His gravelly voice, low and Southern, snapped you from your thoughts.

"Please what, baby? Use your words. Lemme hear ya." He grunted like an animal as he grasped hold of your ass, bouncing you harder on his rigid cock, the sounds of your bodies loud against the walls of the room.

"P-Please. Wanna cum. Wanna-wanna feel you."

"Ain't feelin' me enough, girl?" He chuckled, nudging his face between the valley of your breasts. Joel's voice was muffled as he sucked on your nipples, allowing them to harden beneath his teeth in a way that made you shiver. "Alright then."

With ease he lifted you off, and you watched his sweaty biceps shine beneath the steady coming sunshine. Years of work beneath the blazing Texas heat, loading and unloading hay bales, wrangling cattle and fitting horses for new shoes made him impossibly strong. Strong in that cowboy sort of way, where his tummy was soft from hundreds of nights of homecooked Southern meals, and his thighs where thick and always so pretty looking behind worn denim. Strong in the good sort of way, strong in the way hard working men with good manners always are.

He tossed you on the bed, bending your legs against your chest as he mounted you, filling you impossibly deep once again. He could feel you tight around him like a vice, beckoning him further in, warm and soft against his throbbing cock. The noise of your wetness rang through his ears like church bells, and there was something deeply intoxicating about the knowledge that he was the one who made you come undone like this, that he was the one making your body shake and shiver and leak for him.

It was the best thing Joel Miller had ever felt before, and you were the prettiest thing he had ever laid eyes on.

His chocolate colored eyes, honeyed by the hazy mid afternoon glow, stared down into yours, soft yet demanding. A sentence twitched on his lips, words he would never be able to get out, affection he would never be able to voice. Talking about things, really talking about things, was not how Joel operated.

So instead, rather than communicating with you the way an old, grizzled man should have learned to do by his big age, he fucked you. He filled you up with him cum and would hum she's so fuckin' pretty, drippin' with me, or he'd take you by the throat, let you taste his tongue and his spit, let your teeth clash against one another as you bounced yourself on his cock. He would wipe you up with the bandana he always wore around his neck, would let you sip on his black coffee while you came back down to reality, even though you always made the same face with your nose scrunched every time you tasted the bitterness.

Those little moments, those little pockets of normality, domesticity, the little sparks of something that felt dangerously close to a relationship, were how he told you his true feelings.

You were looking up at him now, mouth gaping, eyes wide and glossed over with tears of pleasure as he rammed his leaking tip against those soft, spongy parts that made you whimper and whine for him. Your dress was wrinkled now, bunched up against your waist, and your nails were dragging so hard down the expanse of his button down you were sure you'd tear it.

"Come on, darlin'. Come on. You're takin him so well for me. That feel good, don't it? Daddy's cock." He purred his words, equal parts arrogance and filth, reaching down between your legs. The rough pad of his thumb found your clit, swollen and throbbing, begging for his attention. "Christ woman," Joel groaned, "you're going to be the death of me."

You arched your back off the bed, grasping hold of his thick neck, and shook your head. "Don't die on me just yet, Cowboy. Not done with you."

"Yes ma'am." He was more than happy to comply with your request.

You could feel your pussy contracting even tighter against him, you could feel your orgasm steadily brewing in the pits of your belly, and you knew it was going to be a loud one.

Joel's skin on yours was burning, sweat dripping down your bodies, melting your chests together in a tangled heap of limbs and sex.

"Look up at me. Look." Joel grabbed your chin, forcing your eyes on his. "Want to see how pretty your eyes roll when you soak this cock."

Your breath caught in your throat, and you buried your fingers in the strands of hair by the nape of his neck, pulling him closer until his mouth met yours for a kiss.

"Prettiest damn woman I've ever known. Y'know that? You're jus' a pretty little thing. Best fuckin' pussy in Texas, and it's all mine."

"Just Texas?" You moaned through a breathy laugh, his thumb still brushing across your clit. Soon, you were going to snap. You could feel it running through you like a freight train.

Joel nipped your shoulder, his laugh getting lost in your hair. "The whole world, darlin'."

You wanted to smile, but your orgasm ripped through you out of the blue. You felt your cum soak Joel straight through, felt your clit twitch beneath his thumb, your little bundle of nerves becoming sensitive beneath his tender assault, thighs shaking and throat restricting as your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

You wanted to speak, wanted to tell him how good it felt, how good he was fucking you, wanted to cry his name for the whole world to hear- but no words could form. Not with an orgasm that good.

Joel felt you squeezing around him, and his grunts and moans- more animalistic than human- told you he was close.

"God damn, girl." His teeth were gritted now, and he propped himself up on his hands to watch himself disappear inside of you. In and out, in and out. Your pussy was creamy, swollen, pulsating against him from all the pleasure he was giving you, and he couldn't hold on much longer.

Joel grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling you towards his chest so you were watching with him, watching the way he wrecked you, split you in two, reduced you to a whimpering slut just for him.

"See that? You've made a fuckin' mess on me."

"Sorry daddy." You moaned out, and if Joel didn't know any better, he would have thought your words were laced full of pride.

You did that to him. You.

Joels hips were rutting hard into yours now, fast and unsteady, a rushed mess of skin on skin as he felt his cock leaking, twitching with his oncoming climax. When he finally came undone, he snarled your name like a hungry dog, growling into your hair like a madman as he shot rope after rope of cum deep within you.

You felt him deep, felt his cum leaking against your walls as he slowly rolled beside you, his fingers dipping down into your pussy to push his dribbling spend back inside of you.

You turned to look at him, and in a moment of tenderness, you gently brushed the stray strands of curls out of his forehead, your fingers lingering against the deep set crows feet beside his honeyed eyes. They sparkled in the golden light, their umber hue set aflame by that pretty summer shine.

"Did you have a nice lunch break, Cowboy?" You words were soft. Too soft for the nature of your relationship. Neither of you seemed to mind.

The air was quiet now. The sun was still filtering in through the open window, those sheer curtains still billowing in the wind. The faint mooing of cattle could be heard, the soft tweet of a song bird, the bark of a herding dog. The noise of your bodies grinding, your skin slapping, had now all but ceased, and the little hum and sounds of both nature and domesticity filtered in and out the sunny room.

Joel reached for your hand, bringing the tips of your fingers to his mouth. His lips were dry and cracked against your skin, and the stubble of his graying beard pricked into your knuckles. It caused a smile to tilt at the corner of your messy lips.

"Best kind of lunch break." He conceded, untying the bandana around his neck. He leaned forward, softly wiping at your damp thighs, your belly, your cunt- drying you off from your previous rendezvous, before shooting you a wink and tying it back around his neck. When he worked late into the evening, he wanted to smell you. A little nudge to end the day on a high note, to end the day quickly- so he could see you in the morning and start it all from scratch.

He stood up with a groan, the kind of groan old men always let out when standing from their recliners or getting up out of bed in the morning, and readjusted his jeans. You always loved those jeans. The sun-kissed fade that stretched deliciously taut across his thighs, the little Levi tag on the back. They fit him perfectly, in more ways than one.

You watched Joel's fingers work the buttons of his shirt, a simple green flannel that brought out the richness of his skin, watched him slide through his belt with that big silver buckle depicting a steer, the one your father had gifted him when they graduated high school. He hadn't even had time to take off his shoes before he buried himself in your pussy, so he clicked his steel-toed boots together with a sense of finality and kissed your temple, grabbing his rope and wallet from the bedside table.

"Could you do me a favor?" He hummed, his eyes glancing at the bed. The duvet was soaked through, dirt from his boots and traces of your shared cum lingering through.

You grinned, knowing the question he was about to ask. "Already on it."

Joel watched you for a beat too long. Watched the way you looked bending over in that sundress, gathering up all the blankets and pillows to throw in the wash. Watched the way your hair became tousled in the breeze, the way it stuck to that pretty cherry color you had on your lips.

If Joel was a younger man, he would have bent you over again and fucked your brains out like his life depended on it. The thought caused something to stir in his stomach, and his cock. But he was old, and his back hurt, and he had a few dozen flocks of wandering sheep he had to wrangle back to the barn before night fell across the expansive miles of his ranch.

His eyes flicked to the clock.

3:47 PM.

She would be home anytime soon.

"And, uh, after that you can head on back. Alright?" He knew the words were a bit cold, knew they always stung right through to your heart, but what else was he supposed to do?

You nodded without looking at him, humming out a simple response. "Yeah." Your voice was barely a whisper as you pushed gently past him, making your way to the laundry room.

It wouldn't have really mattered if she showed up, to be realistic, it would have only raised a few questions. His wife knew you were working for him. But, that was the issue. You were meant to be working.

And right now, you were in a summery little dress- and doing manual labor wearing that was pretty much impossible. The first few weeks you showed up in jeans and a shirt, got your hands dirty, let the mud splatter on your face- but when things started heating up, when Joel started flirting more, looking harder, and you started pining more, yearning harder- that's when things changed.

He started letting you watch while he worked. Started telling you he didn't want you to get all gross and ruined on his farm. He would sit you on a thick fence post, talk to you while he shoveled shit, picked up hay, cleaned out pig pens, and he'd let you hold the newborn chicks and pet the piglets and play with the goats while you discussed anything and everything, laughing until your sides hurt.

It was through those little conversations, you realized how deeply attached you had grown, how the highlight of your work day was talking to him.

Then, you started showing up right after his wife would leave for work or shopping or whatever it is she did, always in those sun dresses that drove him wild. Your hair would be done, makeup all nice and pretty- both of which would just get ruined, later. You'd sit on the porch, watch him out in the field wiping the sweat from his brow, watching him unload the bed of his truck. You'd watch him pet every dog on his property, talk to his horse, feed his cows.

And halfway through, Joel would march right on up, grab your hand, and take you to the bedroom. Sometimes he wouldn't make it very far, and that old, rickety porch swing would get more action in an hour than it had ever gotten in its existence. Those breaks that were supposed to be lunch turned into something completely different, and his wife was left wondering why he ate through house and home by the time dinner was made and set on the table.

Joel followed you out of the bedroom.

He wasn't coy, or quiet, either.

The heel of his leather boots were clicking and clacking against the linoleum floors that hadn't been renovated since the 70s, ringing against the walls full of family photos, artwork, and Rodeo certificates.

"Look, you know if I could keep ya here-"

"I know, Joel." You dumped the duvet in the washer, turning it on. You turned to face him, gently resting your hand on his bicep. Thick, soft- it felt perfect against your hand, spilled out of the cup of your palm, warmed you just with a touch. You blinked the thought away. "I know. Really. It's okay."

He sighed, shaking his head. You walked out to the kitchen, grabbing the pitcher of lemonade, and the cowboy was right on your heels, following you like an obedient retriever. "No, really. If I could just-" he stumbled over his words, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I ain't good with words. You know?"

You rocked on your heels, sipping at the drink as you watched him from behind the rim of the glass, your eyes narrowed and head tilted with thought as you let him work out what it was he really wanted to tell you.

Joel sat down with a huff, his legs spread wide, thighs broad and inviting. He rested his elbows on his knees, focusing his attention on you.

He could get used to this, he figured. Watching you drink lemonade, helping you with the laundry, coming in after a long day of work to see you all pretty and waiting for him. He would spin you around to the deep voice of Johnny Cash, sing along in that stupid voice you hated just to make you giggle as he dipped you and buried his face in your chest. He would help you stir whatever pasta sauce you had had simmering all day, or he would go out back to grill you a ribeye cooked just the way you liked, then watch as you dumped way more sugar than what was needed into your nana's tried and true banana pudding recipe.

Joel could imagine it, clear as day.

If he was younger, thirty, thirty-five maybe, he would ask you to go off birth control. He'd fuck you every morning, twice in the afternoon, and twice in the evening, flip through every baby name book and buy every swaddle you would point out in town. He'd sit there, trying to figure out if Colton or Ashton was a better name for a son, hope and pray that if it were a girl, she'd get your heart and tenacity.

He'd marry you. He'd let you plan the wedding, force him into whatever tuxedo you wanted him to wear, and he'd let his stubble grow out to that length he knew you loved, let you smudge a piece of cake against the tip of his nose but refuse to do it to you and ruin your makeup- only to get you back later with something much better than icing.

Joel blinked, swallowing thickly.

He was back in the kitchen, boots resting on that god awful linoleum floor. Your lemonade was nearly finished now, and you looked at him with a mix of concern and intrigue, eyebrows furrowed together tightly.

You had never seen him like this- so lost in his own head, stuck in his thoughts.

"Joel?" Your voice was soft, a song on to his ears, and for a split moment it calmed his thoughts. You rested your hand on his shoulder, tilted your head ever so slightly so you were eye level.

"Sorry." He was almost bashful, clearing his throat as he adjusted the collar of his shirt. "I just, uh... you know."

You nodded a bit. In a weird sort of way, you understood. You knew what he meant without the words ever having to be spoken.

"I get it."

"Do you?"

"Mhm." You fingered the fabric of his shirt between your index and thumb, eyes tracing over every part of him. The curve of his strong nose, the lashes of his eyes. You wished you could wake up and trace over him every day, wish you could memorize him so deeply and know him so intimately he was forever burned into the imprint of your mind, forever tangled up in your ribs and lungs and heart, a piece of him left so deep within your body it became apart of you. "Maybe in another life, right?"

Joel's forehead creased, his top lip catching between his teeth as he let the words roll around in his head. You counted the wrinkles on his forehead, four deep set lines, and slowly moved your fingers to his temple, brushing your nail across the smile lines.

"Another life." He parroted, swallowing thickly. "Yeah. Yeah, sure. Another life, I think."

Joel stood, impossibly broad and tall, and stared down at you. There was a longing twinkle shimmering in his eyes, something deep and sad, something that he swore he would never, ever speak of. Not to you, to Tommy, to his wife- to your father.

Father.

A pang shot straight through his chest.

He let his rough palms fall to your hips, let you readjust the messed up buttons of his shirt, and he finally let himself close his eyes.

Let himself imagine a life where you did this every day, a life where you were his wife, his young, beautiful wife who everyone talked about, his young, beautiful wife that all the old men at his baseball games and football Sunday's would wonder and hum about out loud, wondering how the gruff, mean, sturdy Joel Miller ever managed to pull a sweet angel like you.

When he opened them, you were smiling up at him, and when he kissed your cherry colored lips, they tasted faintly of lemonade.

Joel smiled, his stomach twisting as you smiled back.

You gently dragged your hand down, let it rest on his soft stomach for a moment before you patted him away.

"Go on then, Cowboy. You've got some sheep to track."

He nodded, humming out, and as he turned on his heel to walk away, he wondered if you felt it too.

That string. That terrible, awful string that bound you two together, that unraveled like yarn and tripped him over his own two feet time and time again.

And when you walked into the laundry room and took the duvet to throw it in the drier, you wondered if Joel felt it too. That string. That terrible, awful string that had knitted itself within the very sinew that kept you together, that bound your wrists and imprinted deep within your bones until it left you aching.

On the drive home, you watched the sunset cast itself across the horizon. You watched the orange bleed in to the blue, watched the purple kiss of the approaching night blot itself behind the clouds. And in the distance you saw your cowboy, rope high in the air, whooping for a calf that had wandered too far away from his mamma, and the setting sun reflected against the faded leather of his hat, hit against the metal side of your car, and for a moment you could smell him. The smell of pine shavings, tooth paste, tobacco. It lingered in your nostrils no matter where you went.

Johnny Cash was crooning to you from the radio.

But your people have always been my people, And you have always gone wherever I go. And when it's all over, I hope we will go together I don't want you to be alone, you know.

You caught one last glance of Joel from your rearview mirror, off his horse and petting the scared calf, and a soft smile spread across your face, despite that deep gnawing that rested beneath the cavity of your chest.

Tomorrow, you would wake up and do it all over again. You'd wear your pretty sundresses, smack your cherry lips, flip your perfect hair- and you and Joel would both pretend through stolen glances and heavy breaths that whatever it was between the both of you was casual, that love was nowhere near.

---

Too Easily - Katsuki Bakugo -

Based off this Blurb

It was too easy, every part of it. How you met him, how you interacted with him, how quickly he got used to you. Every part of it was too easy, too good to be true. But he asked you anyway, he wanted you anyway. You figured it was just another thing in life that came easily. He showed you another way of living, the thrill of romance. The increased heartbeat that came when next to a crush. The a flutter in your stomach when he called your name. The buzz of warmth that covered your entire being after just one kiss. CW: swearing and i think that's it? Word Count: 7.4k

General Studies was no easy task. It was assignment after assignment. Making you do ten times the amount of work any other school had regular students doing. UA wasn't only a prestigious hero school, but an overall school. If you could get in, in any way possible, you were deemed important in society.

A messed up social construct because it didn't take only intelligence but also wealth and connections with people on the school board. Nonetheless, you got in and stayed at a good standpoint for your class. Within the top three overall, if you weren't first when hero students weren't involved.

You were known across the school for how you aced every test with flying colors. Maybe you weren't the most known, since the hero students got all the praise, but right out of that, you were the most known.

It used to be Shinso, due to his 'villainous' quirk. But when he was transferred to the hero course in the second year, all the talk switched to you. It was something you were used to though. Your parents were well-known CEOs so it was nothing compared to the fame they had. Just whispers being spoken wherever you were.

You were close friends with Shinso, and still are, stopping to talk with him in the halls and going to his common room to help him study every once in a while. It gave you more connections to the hero world, and with your parents' advice in life, you made any connection possible. Life was filled with stepping stones, all hard work built into any action, and profit.

When you were with Shinso, a genuine friend of yours, you took time to talk with his friends. Ones who crossed your path when in his busy common room. Normally it was Kaminari who bugged the two of you, and he wasn't much to build off. Sero as well, who mainly flirted with you quietly. Kirishima was a good one to talk with, there was actual conversation there. Same with Deku.

Avoiding conversation wasn't easy in the common area, but you and Shinso also knew only rumors would come if you went to his room. So the two of you adapted, making the people who bugged you, join in and study as well.

That's how you met the infamous Katsuki Bakugo. He was only trying to get his headphones back from Kirishima, but an interruption was an interruption. The group yelling at him to sit down, the group being Kaminari and Mina. You could care less if he stayed or went, the rule was set for the people who consistently bugged you.

"I said two fucking words," Bakugo seethed.

"Don't care," Kaminari pointed to the set, acting like a strict parent with how he raised his chin, "Rules are rules Kacchan."

"This stupid-"

"Bakugo sit the fuck down," Mina added.

"Who do you think you are?" Bakugo raised his arm at her.

You watched annoyed at the bickering, he would definitely apply to the rule now. You looked over your work as they snapped back and forth, wanting to avoid an argument with him. Throughout all three years of high school, his reputation stayed the same. As angry and explosive as ever, and that's after calming down slightly in the first year.

"Bakugo," Kirishima sheepishly spoke out, "You're only making things worse. She's had this rule set for the past month. You're going to go study anyway, just join us."

"Fucking ridiculous," the blonde grumbled, throwing his bag on the table and aggressively pulling out a seat next to you. "I'm not staying long," he bit out, towards you.

You raised a brow and looked at him, "You're disruptive anyway."

He tsked at you, opening his book and throwing down the same worksheet everyone else had out. The sheet that Shinso finished an hour ago, with your help. Shinso was now far ahead on his English essay.

The group took over their silence once again. Kaminari and Mina, the most annoying ones, deep into their math work.

"Kaminari!" you scolded, seeing him lift his phone for a math problem, "You're going to become a hero by cheating?"

"No," he pouted like a puppy.

Before you could, Bakugo took Kaminari's phone, shoving it in his pocket. "How many times do you have'ta be yelled at to fuckin' stop?" Bakugo hissed.

"Sorry," Kaminari shrunk in his seat.

"I'll help you," you sighed, getting up to stand.

Bakugo glared at you, "I can fuckin' do it."

"I've already finished the sheet, I know how to do it," you assured, acknowledging the looks from the table.

"Who the fuck even are you?" he looked you over.

You were used to the everyday person glaring at you, out of jealousy, out of disgust, it didn't matter. But from someone who was expected to be one of the top heroes, from someone in the Big Three? It was something else. You only let yourself shrink in slightly, still saying your name confidently. Surely he would have heard you're name by now, right?

"Hah?"

"I'm going to be the valedictorian? You can't be that socially blind," you blinked at him.

His face settled into recognition, turning to glare at Shinso next, "Is that how you're getting better scores?! You little shit!"

The aggression was off you quicker than you thought. Everyone else turned their attention off you now, not caring what Bakugo would say now that he was talking to a classmate. More so yelling with how Shinso was giving him a lazy smirk back at him.

Before you could get roped back into the conversation you stepped over to Kaminari to help him with the first question on the page. It didn't surprise you that he needed help, he often needed help in math.

What did surprise you though, was Bakugo grumbling to himself when you sat back down in your seat. Not letting you settle in before he poked your forearm with his pencil, nodding his head to his paper when you looked at him.

You leaned into his space slightly and looked over his paper. He moved his pencil over the question, the same one that stumped Shinso. He was looking anywhere but his paper ignoring the fact that he was asking for help.

When you took a breath before starting to talk you instantly got a sharp glare and his hand shoving paper into your hand. Scratch paper was shoved into your space, his pencil being tossed along with it. You gave him a look that read 'seriously' to his reaction. He just gave you a firmer glare. You sighed as you wrote down the steps for him, looking over his work and circling the spots he got wrong. He only messed up on the middle step, something you almost did.

Passing the paper was also a task, he waited until he was sure no one was looking before he snagged it back. His eyes lit up with a flash of annoyance as he saw his simple mistake.

"Hey," Shinso called out to you, dragging your attention away from the blonde, "I think I'm done for the day. I don't wanna write anymore."

You looked at the time, it was barely passing 8 pm, and you'd been working since six. "Fair," you nodded, knowing not everyone was up to studying for hours at a time, "How much did you do?"

"I'm only missing a page now," he stretched out, "It's not due for a week."

"The sooner you're done-"

"The sooner you can forget about it," Shinso rolled his eyes, "I know, not like you say it every time."

"I could say it more," you huffed, grabbing your textbooks and putting them in your bag. Shinso did the same, putting his stuff away much quicker before he said his goodnights, patted your back, and left.

"Am I free?" Mina gave you puppy eyes.

"Yeah, I need to get to my dorm," you smiled at her, watching as everyone at the table sighed in relief and packed up. Taking their leave soon after.

You stayed without much thought. Bakugo was still at the table, clearly wanting to finish his paper now. You didn't want to leave him in case he needed help, it was something you did for all of them.

Only when everyone was gone did he raise his head, quickly taking in that it was only you and him left.

"Thanks, Books," he said gruffly. You knew he was one to give nicknames, having heard him yell a few in the common room, hallways, or sports festivals.

You also knew he wasn't one to hand out thanks. "No problem," you nodded at him, seeing him shove his books into his bag. "You're going to rip your work if you do that, you know?"

"Like I care."

"You should, I wouldn't be surprised to know if you've had to redo homework for that reason only," you stood up, "A folder could save you from taking time out of your training."

He glared at you, showing that you read him like a book, "Whatever," he scoffed.

---

There was no surprise seeing him in the common rooms more, or him helping your small study group. It was all welcomed, he could answer all the small questions when you were already busy. Although he took a different approach than you. Rather than calmly explaining, he yelled.

The surprise only hit when he approached you right after class. Everyone lingering in the hall still debriefing from class that ended only moments ago.

He's been the talk of school recently as well. Having gone nuts when an interviewer asked him personal questions. Ranging from how his parents were to how many people he's slept with. With him being freshly eighteen, it was disgusting. It is disgusting in general but it only gives you a good look at the way society views heroes.

It spread beyond just that, everyone watching the interview and taking it among themselves. Trying to figure out who Bakugo was dating or why he wasn't dating anyone. Piecing together any action he made towards anyone. Trying to say he was dating one of his classmates or someone he was interning with. It was annoying even for you, no one wanted to talk about anything other than his dating life. It was infuriating.

So him showing up at your class out of nowhere confused you even more. With all the rumors going around you expected him to stick to himself, like he was doing for the past week.

"Bakugo?" you asked, seeing him leaning on the wall across the door to your class. You knew you were the only one that knew him personally, in your class.

"Books," he said shortly, kicking himself off the wall and walking towards you, meeting you halfway, in the middle of the hallway.

"Do you need to talk about something?" you tilted your head, confused, "We can go to your common room, I was heading there anyway."

"Nah," he shook his head, putting his hands in his pockets. Casual as ever.

You looked around at the crowd that gathered around you. "Then what do you need?" you asked quietly, wanting to avoid people hearing your conversation.

"Go on a date with me," he ordered more than asked, face plain but voice loud enough for everyone to hear. He gave you nothing to read off.

"Excuse me?" you asked meekly.

"Go on a date with me."

"Bakugo-"

"You stupid or somethin'?" he asked, now annoyed.

"No, I'm just confused," you worded slowly, trying to piece together why he did this suddenly. Is this why he started studying with you? Despite already knowing his stuff and hardly needing help.

"Will you?" he shuffled his footing, going more ridged and less relaxed.

You blinked, looking around quickly at the audience who was now holding their breath, "Yeah," you said breathlessly, "I- sure."

"Good," he relaxed again, "I'll meet you at your dorm room."

He didn't let you add anything before he was walking away, the crowd parting for his exit before rushing up to you.

"You know Bakugo?"

"He likes you?"

"Did you put a spell on him?"

"Hire him?"

"Buy him out?"

"What's your secret?"

Knowing how to manage the media, you did what you were taught. School your expression and walk away, give nothing but keep your head high.

You dealt with people bugging you until you were at your dorm, only at safety when you locked your door behind you. You didn't even tell Bakugo your dorm number, and he didn't have your number. How he was going to get to you, you had no clue.

Your phone buzzes violently in your bug, Shinso calling you.

"You and Bakugo?" he asked immediately when you answered. Word got around quick. It's only been twenty minutes and people knew.

"Apparently? I don't know?" you ran your hands through your hair, trying to think of an outfit for something you didn't even know of.

"How do you not know?"

"Shinso," you placed him on speaker, going through your closest, "He just came to my class and asked me out in front of everyone."

"I know, that's how I found out. But seriously?"

"Yeah," you settled on a semi-formal outfit, hitting the line of whatever was appropriate.

Shinso paused in thought, "He didn't act any different around you though."

"I know," you sighed in frustration, "All he did was ask my help, apparently that means he's into me?"

"He asked for help?"

"Barely," you shuffled out of your clothes, throwing on the outfit in a rush, unsure when Bakugo would pick you up.

Shinso hummed, "He never asks for help, so fuck, maybe he does like you. Be careful though."

You laughed lightly, brushing your hair with your fingers to make sure it was still presentable, "It's Bakugo, not some kind of monster."

"He's unpredictable," Shinso warned.

"I'll be fine Shinso," you brushed off his worries. Changing into a different topic of your day. Mainly listening to him rant about a new game he bought.

A sudden knock made you jump out of your chair, whispering goodbye to Shinso before hanging up.

You opened the door with a polite smile, greeting Bakugo, who was dressed in a similar manner as you.

"Ready?" he asked. You grabbed your keys and locked your dorm room behind you, stepping into the hall that not only Bakugo occupied. The rest of your class was camping outside your room. You glare at them in response, it was rude to be this nosey.

"Yeah, where to?" you asked, looking unsure around your class.

The name of one of the most popular restaurants rattled out of his mouth.

"Bakugo, that place is a fortune-"

"I've got the money."

"It really isn't necessary."

"It is if it's for you," he said smoothly, something completely unexpected from him. Maybe he wasn't as harsh as he put on.

With no more argument coming from you, he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the elevator, finally out of the eyes of your peers.

"I don't think I'm dressed for this," you said honestly as you looked down. You'd meet the dress code easily, but it was still a well-established restaurant.

"You look fine."

You blushed warmly at that. You've been told all about his character in passing. He didn't just throw out things without meaning. "Thanks," you mumbled, following him as he left the elevator.

---

He was an easy person to talk to. No awkward silences that couldn't be filled. Nothing bad to note over the entirety of dinner. He was a gentleman, and it was surprising. Even when the press started annoying you midway through, he didn't fuss. Just told you to ignore them and continue eating. Barely giving them a second glance as he talked to you more. Seemingly curious about how your dumb presentation did.

"Thank you for listening to all my school stuff," you turned to him as you walked back to your dorm, him insisting he needed to walk you back. Despite the guaranteed safety of a hero school. "You're probably the only hero student who can keep up."

"You act like hero students are behind."

"You're in the same math class as Kaminari, it's not hard to claim that I'm leagues ahead in that field," you smiled at him, not wanting to offend him.

"Whatever," he shrugged off.

You turned back to look at the direction you were walking, you still had a couple of minutes, "Thanks for inviting me out, I'm cooped up too much."

"No problem," he said back softly, sharing your tone, "Thanks for agreeing I guess."

"I hardly agreed to anything, more so got ordered," you laughed.

The weather was nice as you walked back. Clear skies, low winds, but cold.

"Ya cold?"

"Kinda," you replied, crossing your arms to warm yourself as you focused on walking.

"C'mere, idiot," he called to you, shrugging off his jacket when you were near, throwing it over your shoulders before continuing to walk like nothing happened.

"Thank you," you said shyly, not used to being catered to, especially by him. Many have asked you out before, none of them interesting or it was easy to tell they had bad intentions, Bakugo's the first to not.

He shrugged off the appreciation, letting silence cover the conversation for a moment.

"You want to know something?" you spoke out, watching how your steps hit the ground at the same time as his.

"Hm?"

"I expected you to be a lot different."

"How?"

"Well in the sports festival you're an animal," you pointed out.

"I'm not an animal," he shook his head in disbelief.

You turned to face him, face deadpan, "You fucking growled at the camera."

Bakugo barked out a laugh at the memory. Though the laugh was violent, it was warming to hear, your smile widening.

"You even bit the cameraman," you added on to the memory, anything to keep him laughing.

"You saw what he did right?" he spoke filled with laughter.

"No?"

"Dude wagged a red flag in front of the camera so I'd look over."

"No!" you gasped, laughter breaking through.

"So I fuckin' showed him an animal."

His expression was cocky with a humorous smile, a laugh still following his words as he guided you to continue moving by your elbow.

"All the interviewers do that shit."

"Hm?" you hummed for him to continue.

"Get in your face, want you to act a certain way. Fuckin' tired of it," he huffed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah," you were warmed by how he spoke so freely, "They always ask ridiculous questions too," you added on.

"You've been interviewed?" he side-eyed you as you walked.

"Plenty of times, my parents are huge CEOs so they want to know who's next up," you answered any follow-up question he could have, used to others questioning you all about it.

"Gross."

You laughed lightly, "Definitely, the interviews are always so unsettling. Asking every personal question ever," you brought it up just to try to show him you understood him.

"You got no idea, sweets," the tack of a nickname made you flush. Looking away briefly when other students pass by you.

Not wanting the conversation to stop you continued, "I might not to your extent of course, but I've had my fair share."

"Really? What's the worst thing you've been asked?" he challenged.

"If I was willing to have sex with other CEOs in order to expand the company," you gave him a straight face.

He gave a disgusted look in return, "People like that need to be locked up."

"Yeah, hopefully you'll clear the streets for us," you bumped his shoulder with yours, "but what's the worst thing you've been asked?"

"If I fucked Endeavour's sidekick." You cringed in reply. "That, and they always ask my cup size."

A laugh ripped from your throat, your hand slapping up to his arm in response, "No way! Me too!"

He rolled his eyes, "Fuckin' pervs."

Conversation was easy between the two of you, sharing interview questions until you got to your dorm. Him opening all the doors for you on the way there, causing you to blush each time.

Few people scatter your hallway when you get back, turning their attention on you.

"Again next week?"

"Sorry?" you asked confused.

He furrowed his brows, "Did you not have a good time?"

"No, I did," you corrected, "I'm just surprised you're wanting another."

"Of course, I want another," frustration was slowly coming out of his voice, "So will you go on another date with me? Next week?"

"I- yeah," you nodded.

"Gimme your phone," he put his hand out, typing his number in roughly when you gave it to him. "I'll text you."

"Yeah," you were breathless, this didn't feel real.

"You're going to be at my common area tomorrow, right?" his face gave away absolutely nothing, brushing off the idea of a date so casually.

"Yeah," you were too stunned to form more words. He wanted not one, but two dates. And was curious what you were doing the next day. You were never one to fan girl, but with the looks he had, it was hard not to.

"Good, I'll be around," he said shortly, moving to step away.

"You're jacket," you blurted, "I need to give it back."

"Keep it."

He walked away before you could even pull it off your shoulders.

Not wanting the stares of classmates, you quickly hid yourself in your room. Letting the giddy emotions consume you. The rush of emotions from the date were running wild, and you knew better than to show those in front of him, let alone in public.

---

The giddy feeling didn't leave the next day, buzzing in your heart as you went through each class. Unbothered by the people who tried to be nosey or the first years who threatened you. It was all filled with the rushing thoughts, the curiosity you felt when Bakugo said he'd see you today.

Adding a pep to your step as you made your way into his common room, setting up your stuff to study with Shinso.

"Nice ass, I got a real good angle here."

You slapped down your uniform skirt as you straightened your posture. "Gross Mineta," you spat when you turned around to face him.

"Just enjoying the view, wish it was more than a view, like an object-"

You glared at him sharply, "I'm not an object." He was acting worse than the interviewers.

"Not yet-"

"Not ever," you seethed. When you watched his eyes widen you felt relieved to have scared him.

"The fuck happening here?" Bakugo's voice rang out, clearly being the reason Mineta was afraid.

"Nothing," Mineta groaned, "Gotta ruin the fun. Maybe later mamas," Mineta winked at you. A full-body cringe shuttered through you.

"I'll fuckin' kill you," Bakugo stepped closer, Mineta running away in response.

"Thanks-"

"Aren't you usually here at 6?" he cut you off.

"Oh," you clasped your hands behind your back, slightly swaying, "I thought I'd stop by earlier, to see you," you added sheepishly.

"Good thinkin'," he smirked, "Want to-"

Shinso's heavy steps turned your attention. "Hi, Shinso!" you greeted happily, you had so much to tell him.

"It's a bit early," he turned his head to the clock.

"She came to see me," Bakugo answered for you.

"Well not entirely- I'm still going to study at 6," you confirmed.

That night all you did was go over the English book Bakugo's class was reading in the privacy of his dorm. Nothing more, nothing less. However, he did apologize for Mineta.

---

The next month or so followed in a similar footing. Amazing dates filled with heartful talks, even ones that were had to talk about. With him it was easy. Laughing and smiling was easy.

Even the stupid date you were on right now.

"Y'know you should call me by my name."

He had to be joking. You were in the middle of a nice dinner date in his common room, with food he made. "Really? Are seriously trying to get me to call you Dynamight-"

"No idiot-" he huffed looking down at his hands for a second. He was holding his weight on the counter as he stood across from you, leaning into his palms. "I mean Katsuki."

"Oh," you blushed, "Yeah, I guess that'd make sense," you laughed shyly.

His eyes flickered to the common room. Mina, Toru, and Kaminari were all sitting there, obviously spying on you and Bakugo.

"Your cooking is great," you blurted out, wanting his attention instead.

"Hm?" he looked back to you, "Do y'like the spice? I can add more if ya can handle it."

Even after letting you call him by his given name, the conversation stayed easy between you two. Taking steady bites of your meal between talking, trying to ignore the three in the common room.

Throughout the conversation, Bakugo took your empty plate and started washing it. Having you sat on the counter next to him.

"So gentlemen like," you teased as he dried the plate and put it way. He huffed, rolling his eyes when he stood in front of you again.

"Only for you," he spoke confidently, eyes flashing towards the common room before crowding into your space on the counter. Stepping between your spread legs and placing his hands beside your thighs.

You blush at his closeness, straightening your back to gain a few more inches of space, "Bakugo-"

"Katsuki," he corrected.

"Katsuki," you fumbled with his name, "What are you doing?" you whispered.

"What d'ya want me to do?"

Your eyes flashed to the group, embarrassed that you might have an audience. Too embarrassed that you couldn't reply, biting your lip when you looked back at him. Catching his eyes falling to your lips before looking back at your eyes.

He gave you a look and a small nod to see if you were okay, clear with the idea that he wanted to kiss you. When you gave a small nod in reply, he moved his hand up to cradle your cheek. 

Gently pulling you in for a kiss. Connecting your lips with a spark running up your spine. This was your first kiss, and it felt electric. A rush of adrenaline runs through your body at the contact.

When he pulled away you chased the kiss for a moment, letting your eyes slowly flutter open in confusion. His eyes were already on the three in the room over.

"Want to go to your dorm?" you offered, eager to continue kissing him, the thrill was something you think you'd chase for a lifetime.

"It's gettin' late," he glanced at his watch, "I got early training."

You pouted your lip, "Okay, text me?"

"Sure," he patted your thigh and stepped away. Making you blush once more before you hopped off the counter to leave.

---

The relationship between you two continued like that for a while, small kisses in public. All ones you were too shy to start yourself. Even when you wanted to be in the privacy of his dorm, but without his lead you felt blind.

Everyone on campus has seen you together and knows you're dating, but you felt unsure. It felt weird to have everyone think you're dating, but you didn't know entirely. Interviewers have asked him and he just shrugged it off with a smirk. It's never been discussed more, and you had nothing to go off. All that was discussed was a promised date every week and him being around when you tutored Shinso.

All except this time.

"Where's Katsuki?" you asked Shinso once you placed your stuff down.

"Bad interview, he's in his dorm," Shinso shrugged.

"That bad?" you frowned.

Shinso looked at you like you were stupid, "It's Bakugo, it's always bad."

"Hm," you hummed in thought, looking towards the elevator.

"Want to go see your boyfriend?" he rolled his eyes.

"He's not my boyfriend," you shushed.

"Yeah? Tell that to everyone else."

"It just hasn't been brought up between him and I," you confined to him slightly.

"Then ask? I don't know," he sassed.

"Come on Shinso, I'm lost here," you begged, "I've never dated anyone before. I don't know the rules."

"Rules?" Shinso laughed, "There's no 'rules' to dating."

"Help me out," you kicked at his chair.

"Just ask him what you are, he's probably too emotionally constipated to actually ask you out and want you to just know."

"That's embarrassing though."

"Toughen up."

With Shinso's horrible enthusiasm, you were knocking at Katsuki's door before you knew it.

"What?" Katsuki snapped when opening the door, clearly in a bad mood. 

Every emotion was running through your head. Scared? Excited? You name it. It's been three months of this unknown. Dating or not. You wanted to know, you wanted to make the small next steps. Have him as a boyfriend. To meet his mom. Spend more time with him. Call him more often. Kiss him more. All the practiced words wanted to fall right out of your mouth. 

You closed your open mouth, recovering from your thoughts and the aggressive way he opened the door. He was still glaring at you confused. "I- um-"

"Spit it out."

You took a deep breath, licking your lips lightly before letting the word vomit leave your mouth, "I want to know where we stand. Like are we dating? Are you my boyfriend?" you were wringing out your hands and rocking on your heels as you rambled, "Have we been dating? If not, I'd like to. You're such a good guy and just have helped me a lot, and I'd love to actually call you my boyfriend."

Katsuki blinked at you for a moment, his glare gone but the confusion was still painted across his face. 

"Huh?"

You blinked, "I like you Katsuki, and I want an actual relationship. Titles and all, you know?" With his face just scrunching up in more confusion, you gasped, hands covering your mouth, "God! You probably already think it's a relationship, huh? I'm so sorry- I didn't mean to-"

"You like me?" he cut you off.

"I thought that was obvious?" you laughed lightly, embarrassed as you peered up at him.

He shuffles how we was standing, crossing his arms, a confused look gracing his features, "We were just dating to get rid of the fuckin' rumor. I thought y'know?"

Color drained from your face, "Oh!"

Not being able to stand any more of this mortifying experience, you turned on your heels and walked away.

Walking all the way until you were almost out of the Common room.

"You look like you saw a ghost," Shinso stopped you in your tracks.

"Heh," you forced a laugh, eyeing the door with want.

"Go that bad?" Shinso frowned.

"You have no idea.

---

That night was rough. A long shower helped you process everything. All the group outings, all the public displays of affection, not bothering to spend time together unless you were out in public, even if you were in his dorm, everyone knew. It had all been for the press, and it made complete sense. It was all he talked to you deeply about. It's why he thanked you at the beginning of all this.

And yet, despite you being the valedictorian, you were too stupid to realize.

So now you were bawling your eyes out as you hugged your pillow. Feeling so incredibly dumb to think you could pull Kat- Bakugo. The future symbol of strength. You let yourself get so hopeful and wrapped up in the feelings, making yourself blind to the obvious. 

All the small kisses you shared felt like nothing now.

After that night, you picked yourself back up. No longer distracted by him, but more encouraged. You've spent the last three months studying until early in the morning rather than sleeping, all because you didn't want to decline when Bakugo invited you out. So now, you had time. So much of it that you were unsure what to do with it.

Bakugo gave you a week to cool down, not bothering you during your study sessions with Shinso, and not texting you either. You were relieved he was letting this embarrassing moment pass.

You were mad, anyone would be. Bakugo could have told you that it was fake, but no, he let you fall for him. He could of been direct, rather than assume.

"You okay?" Shinso nudged your arm when you were too zoned out on the elevator, fearful that the blonde would appear any moment.

"Hm? Yeah, just preoccupied with my thoughts," you answered automatically, turning your head away from the elevator. It's been a full two weeks, you should be over it by now.

Shinso looked over your shoulder, "Maybe we should leave," he rushed, packing his stuff.

"What? Did you finish already?"

"No, just come on," Shinso grabbed your stuff and packed up too.

"Shinso-"

He grabbed your wrist and dragged you to the elevator, trying to close the doors quickly. 

Only then did you notice Bakugo standing at the entrance, looking lost as he watched the elevator doors close.

---

Shinso was always a good friend like that, looking out for you. He's kept Bakugo from your view more times than you could count in the past two weeks. Shinso was probably more pissed than you.

You had just hung up on him, turning to sitting down at your desk and plotting down points for an essay you had to submit later this week. Always wanting to stay two steps ahead when possible.

A soft rattle of knocks drew your attention away from your work.

"Come in," you called out, turning off your studying music and taking off your headphones. Spinning your chair to see which classmate was bugging you for help now.

"Hey," Bakugo twisted the door open.

You rolled your eyes, "Close the door, unless you want people to hear."

He slowly shut the door behind him and put his hands in his pockets, "Mindfuck said I should-"

"If Shinso sent you to do anything, I don't want to hear it," you crossed your arms.

"That shithead doesn't dictate what I do-"

"But he could," you pointed out.

"Well he's not. Ain't how his quirk works."

"What do you want Bakugo?" you asked plainly, you didn't want to be dragged along again.

He sighed, "Look, I wanted to apologize. What I did was shitty."

"Very, but I don't care at this point," you covered up your emotions, brushing past every night you've cried these past two weeks, "Yeah, you broke my heart or whatever, but it wasn't intentional. Just- you go your way, I'll go mine."

He tightened his jaw, "If that's what you want."

"It is," you lied through your teeth. Moving your chair again to face your work. Ignoring him.

"You don't have to lie if anyone asks," he spoke awkwardly.

You gave him a quick glance, "I wasn't planning to." 

---

When he left once again, you felt relieved to have that conversation over. Wanting to bury the sad story of your first 'relationship.' 

Sticking to what you knew best, school. You breezed through each test. Earning any extra credit possible and going to any internship possible. Limiting your tutor hours to hours you knew Bakugo was busy.

Your resume was solid, you'd be graduating with an associate's degree and would immediately start work with your parents the second you graduated. All while working towards a master's degree. Not only did you fill up your current time, but you'd be busy after high school as well.

Even now you were often at your parents' office when school was over, getting prepared for your role there. You'd be the youngest boss to work there, and many people were pissed. How could a freshly graduated teenager get paid more than them?

With tons of hard work. All the hard work pays off when you actually graduate as Valedictorian. Having press all in your face when you gave your graduation speech to the class. Talking about the highs and lows. Mentioning the hero course and the courage they faced, even when people thought they weren't made for it. Most of the speech was for Shinso.

The press was crazy afterward, you didn't have a moment to yourself. While you thought the press would be small since UA was high security, you were wrong. They took the funding they could get, and in return, they let people in.

Mainly the hero course was being interviewed, but you got surrounded as well.

"Ma'am! Tell us how you got such a high job position?"

"How much money will you make?"

"I'd love to get your insider opinion on the heroes here?"

"Hard work earns a lot more than just money," you answered the first two questions, "While the Heroes here are outstanding. They'll do the world a lot of good."

"Do you know any of them personally?"

"A few in Class A," you smiled in reply. You needed press and this was a great way to get your name out.

"So are you still dating Dynamight?"

The question shocked you for a moment, you thought all that dropped when you and him argued. You guess they just thought you were distant because of work. Your eyes widened, immediately looking away from the interviewer so you could compose an answer.

Unforantly, Bakugo was getting interviewed right beside you. Making eye contact with you while the press hounded him. Flying through different questions about his relationship status.

"Ma'am?"

"Um," you stuttered, unsure what to do.

 Every press training you've gone through left your mind. Bakugo's helpless face replaced it instead. He hated the press, he hated dealing with an audience. But he hated it even more when it wasn't about his work. Hating when people asked personal things or assumed things because of his looks. 

"Excuse me, I need to go save my boyfriend."

You walked away quickly, faking your confidence in your walk as you made your way to him. Regretting your decision already but it's too late to go back now.

"Is this your girlfriend?" the press immediately switched to ask when you showed up to his side.

"No-"

"Yes," you grabbed his arm, giving him a glare, "Now, we have to go spend time with out families. Please excuse us." You smiled at the interviews, tugging Katsuki away from the mess of it all. "How do you fall for such a trap?" you yelled at him in a hushed tone, looking around to make sure no one was near.

"Huh?"

You spun to face him when you finally found some space. "When they start going down that path you switch the topic, not blank, and get angry."

"Well I'm sorry I'm not miss fuckin' perfect," you hissed at you, crossing his arms.

"You had media training!" you threw your hands up helplessly.

"Whatever, are you just going to yell at me?"

You bit your tongue before you yelled again, looking around instead. "Now we have to deal with the press thinking we're dating."

"I'll just tell them no-"

"That's stupid, I just blatantly told them we were," you huffed, "We'll just sit and wait for it to go away."

"That'll take forever-"

His mom stepped into your view.

"Why are you hiding?"

"I'm not," Bakugo crossed his arms, "Mind y'business."

"Are you his girlfriend I've been hearing about?" her sharp eyes landed on you.

"No-"

"Yeah," Bakugo glared at you this time instead.

"Oh!" She smiled brightly, ignoring how you said no, "You should join us for dinner!"

"Oh, no I shouldn't intrude," you shook your head, not knowing what you would do if you said yes.

"It's not intruding! Please, my boy hardly has anyone. I'd love to get to know the girl that stole his heart," she smiled warmly.

"Ma' she has family-"

"They're actually busy tonight, so I'd be free," you shrugged, liking seeing Bakugo get antsy. 

"Great!"

---

"I'd love to know how you guys got together," Mitsuki asked as you handed you a dish to plat your food.

You and Bakugo shared a look.

"I asked her out," he shrugged.

"More than that," she hissed in his direction.

"Well," you looked between the two, not wanting to witness a family argument, "We met from me tutoring someone in his class. Started to get to know each other in passing and he asked me on a date. Not too exciting," you replied instead as you dished up.

Mitsuki shook her head, "Boring as ever, I thought his father would raise him to be more romantic."

"Where is dad anyway?" Bakugo spoke just after swallowing an inhuman-sized bite of food.

"Work needed him, he after you saw him earlier," she spoke to Bakugo before turning to you, "He'd love to meet you."

"Thank you for inviting me," you flushed.

"So, back to terms of your relationship," she started, gaining a groan from Bakugo, "I know he isn't too roped up in relationships often, the last girl he was with was in middle school! Are you the same? I know I wasn't at your age," she laughed kindly.

"Actual this is my first relationship," you poked at your food.

"The hell-"

"Watch your mouth!"

Bakugo turned to you fully, "You didn't tell me that."

You shrugged, "Never came up."

"Was I your first-"

"Kiss?" you finished for him, "Yeah."

Bakugo just stared a you for a moment, huffing before rubbing his hands over his face. Slamming his hands on the table and making his exit. Leaving you with his mom.

"He didn't know?"

You forced your eyes away from where he left, "No, we never really discussed it."

"Maybe it's time to?" She offered. A mom classic.

"I don't know," you looked down at your plate.

"He's a handful, I know, but just give him a shot."

With the way she was acting and the read on her personality, you got so far, you knew she'd slap him upside the head if she knew everything.

But maybe it wouldn't hurt to get everything out.

"I guess."

"He's room is upstairs to the right, first door."

You gave her a smile before excusing yourself.

Knocking at his door before you knew it. Just like the night.

"Fuck off."

"Bakugo," you opened the door regardless, he was holding his head in his hands, elbows on his knees as he sat on the side of his bed.

He looked up at you, "What?"

"Sorry I didn't tell you," you said honestly. You didn't fell bad about it before, mainly wrapped up in how he never told you anything.

"No- fuck, don't apologize," he stood up, "don't need to do that for me. I'm fucking sorry. I didn't know, you didn't deserve that."

You hummed for him to continue.

"I'd never of asked if I knew."

"Why did you ask me?" the question has been nagging at you since.

"Hah?"

"To fake date you, get the rumors to go away."

"You seemed least likely to snitch or freak out over it," with the way his shoulders fell, you could tell that he was saying the truth, "Your clean image also helped."

It made sense. The 'bad boy' dating the valedictorian to help graduate. So not only did you fall for the classic cliche of fake dating, but also dating the bad boy.

"You also caught my eye," he confessed, shifting his footing.

"Sure," you rolled your eyes. He likely didn't want you to call everything off. Flatter you so you stuck around for his image. You've seen it all before.

"I'm not fuckin' around."

"I don't want to hear it," you stopped him there, "I'm not falling for whatever trap you have planned."

"I didn't mean to trap you-"

"You could have told me that it was for the rumors, and I would have agreed. But no, you assumed I knew or something."

"Sorry."

"Are you?" you shot back, "Or is that to make sure I don't start 'rumors.'"

"Seriously books," he glared at you.

"What?" you glared at him, "You go from being upset that you were my first kiss, to saying I caught your eye anyway? If that was actually true you could have asked me out for real."

"Then go out with me-"

"Seriously Bakugo?" you looked at him annoyed, "How would I know now? I don't know you."

"Yes you do-"

"No I don't! I know you hate the press and that's it," you huff frustrated.

He thought for a moment, "You know I like spicy foods."

You laughed at how ridiculously this was, "Doesn't matter."

"I hate how I fuckin' sweat so much. I like working out, anything to get my adrenalin running-"

"Bakugo, whatever you're doing isn't going to work," you shook your head, "I can't let myself go into this again.

"Why not? I'm not in this for anything but you."

"There's still rumors," you sighed, "So I'll never be sure if it's for me or not."

"I wouldn't fucking do that."

"I don't know you Bakugo," you crossed your arms.

"This is fuckin stupid, I try and do what you said and you say no."

"I said I would agree then, not now. I can't just say yes to dating you when last time you rejected me."

"I didn't reject you."

"You just stood there! You didn't do anything but look at me confused! Never even brought it up after," you pointed out.

"You just sprung that on me, you can't spring shit on me and expect me to know how to react!"

You took a deep breath, "I didn't expect anything really, Just thought you'd say anything but what you did."

He glared at you, "You can't just force people to like you."

You looked to glare at the wall instead of him, "That's not what I meant and you know that. I wanted you to like me back sure, but I wasn't going to flip if you said no. The only reason I avoided you was because I was dating you the entire time you were fake dating me."

"So?"

"It's embarrassing," you confessed, "I don't want to do that again."

"Let me prove it to you."

"What?"

He stepped close to you, crossing through his surprisingly clean room, "I'll prove that this time isn't fake."

"How?" you laughed, "I don't think you can fix this."

"Lemme try."

"Fine," you challenge, out of curiosity. You couldn't get more hurt than you already were. Plus you'd be too busy for him to try anyway.

---

If you want a part 2 lmk! It'd likely have smut though! Just a btw! I never reread so I hope this lived up to the hype! I've been crazy busy!

@kcch-ns @saucypeanuttt @cyanide-pancakes @gold24fish @randomchaosyay @minkyungseokie @endlessfreaky @suki0 @lovra974 @okayiamkassandra @myrunawaysweets @pirana10 @ginevraxrogers @katbug37

Thank you guys for the love!! <3

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There are two wolves inside you. One agrees with Christopher Eccleston that multi-doctor stories are a cash grab. The other will not rest until for increadibly contrived reasons each of your favourite characters has met one another cannonically. You are a Doctor Who fan.

This is literally my favorite thing right now, I need more like desperately and the writing is so immaculate :))))

the infinite playlist - two: y/n makes a choice she’s probably gonna regret

 based on nick and norah’s infinite playlist by david levithan and rachel cohn

summary: y/n takes on a project she doesn’t have the patience for, stiles gets caught in a really awkward turf war of sorts, and lydia has decent taste in guys for someone with terrible taste in guys.

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floating down the river styx on an inflatable donut and high-fiving all the lost souls i pass. i'm on vacation

abab

assigned born at birth

Their writing is ✨immaculate✨ you guys should go check out their stuff! SERIOUSLY GO NOW!!

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Hey guys! Lia here. So, I’m dropping my tag list information in this post for you guys.

{{Information under the cut. In order to join my tag list, you need to read the entire post!!}}

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Bro remember when OBX was also about economic disparity and classism? (one of the first few lines in the series is tht this was a place where u either had 2 jobs or 2 houses) and about the profound impact it had on the characters' choices and behaviour? Or about how the justice system was weaponized against the poor innocent PPL by someone richer and more powerful to save their own skin? Remember when it had more dimensions than treasure hunting and still managed to have an actually interesting and much better treasure hunting plotline compared to the ones in the later seasons? Yeahh good times

JK about last post

JK Guys just telling you the area 51 raid was just great