Latest Posts by minnwii - Page 5

old panel redraw

FMA After the fight - Wrestle!!

A more lighthearted scene featuring the gang when they’re not on duty!

I don’t know if we’re still in the age of Y/N L/N search-and-replace self-insert fanfics but can I just say there’s MASSIVE untapped potential for a Y/N L/N Death Note fanfiction if you just

if you just

hang on. This. Like this:

…

Light clicked his bedroom door shut, and leaned against it, and slid gently down. His attention was wrapped so wholly in the unmarked envelope in his hand. He slit it open, and unsheathed the documents like he was pulling money from a wallet. He was, in a sense. These documents had cost him. The private eye he hired had not been cheap.

But it HAD been worth it, Light knew with relief washing through his veins as he thumbed through the contents: birth certificate, social security card, medical records, vaccination history, school records, IDs with photos – mother’s name, father’s name, date of birth, eye color, hair color, blood type.

Light held in his hands EVERYTHING there was to know about the girl. And he basked in it, drinking it in, a name finally to attach to the woman who haunted him.

First name: Y/N. Last name: L/N.

Light cracked a grin, rib cage rippling with manic chuckles that bubbled to his lips and erupted, cackles, delighted trills. The sense of victory flooded him. That girl who knew he was Kira, that girl who had worked so hard to hide her identity, that girl who plagued him, followed him, haunted him every day, who he could never touch.

Finally, Light could kill her.

He rose, and walked nearly numb to his desk, and pulled out the scrap of Death Note he kept in the false bottom of the top drawer. He reveled in it as he wrote: Y/N L/N, dies alone at 11:48pm of a brain aneurysm.

The damnation felt so sweet.

…

She was waiting for him, early as the sun which crested behind her, all soft smiles and sweet squinted eyes. She was waiting for him as she did every single day. She stood there, as always - a thing of nightmares.

The blood left Light’s face once he opened the front door to her, feet and hands tingling cold, stomach in knots.

He’d been worried when he awoke to no news about his dead university classmate. And the confirmation of his every fear settled as a knot in his gut. Y/N L/N was alive, in front of him, just as she was every other day, smiling.

“You seem surprised, Light. Like you’ve seen a ghost?” Her wry smile was a mockery. Light loathed her more than anything.

“Y/N … L/N…” he muttered, through gritted teeth. “…Good morning.”

“Oh! You discovered my name. Good job good job, that was faster than I expected.”

“Why—”

“Aren’t I dead?” she titled her head and swayed a bit in place. “That’s how Kira kills people, yeah? Full name? And you’ve got mine. So why aren’t I dead?”

Kira. Light’s eye twitched. She did that. At every chance, dropping with such nonchalance that she knew. If he argued back, she would ignore him. If he defended himself, it would get him nowhere.

Ignore, deflect, probe, find a weak point.

“Is it a fake name? Is Y/N L/N a fake name?” It would be hard to believe; it would be beyond elaborate. Every ounce of documentation would need to have been faked, or else perfectly stolen, with a complete erasure of who the girl really was. Not a single piece of contradictory evidence. Enough to completely fool Japan’s most esteemed private eye. It was almost unfathomable.

“No, it’s not a fake name. That’s my name. My real name. You’re right.” She spun on her heel and walked forward, into the sun, toward campus, sunlight streaking through the wisps in her hair. “But you can’t kill me with it, Kira.”

Light refused to answer. He refused to concede. He refused to show his hand, and yet, maybe he already had… Maybe he’d already lost.

He’d try again tonight. He’d try again as many times as it took to eliminate her, this unfathomable girl, who appeared in his uni classroom claiming to be an old elementary school classmate of his, who followed him every day and spoke in hints that suggested she knew, and yet never revealed how, or why, or what she wanted from him.

He’d try again. He’d kill her this time.

“It won’t work, trying again, that is. If you want to kill me, you’ll have to use your own hands.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “But that’s messy, and suspicious, and too easy to solve, right? So you need the Death Note to do away with me. But it won’t work.”

Death Note, dammit, she really DID know.

“Hey Light, what’s my name?”

“Y/N, L/N,” he ground out, almost robotically.

“Say it again.”

“Y/N, L/N.”

“And what name did you write in the Death Note?”

Light hesitated. Did he stand any chance of keeping his hand concealed?

He locked eyes with her, and he knew the answer was no. She knew. He knew.

“Y/N L/N.”

“Doesn’t sound quite right, does it?” she asked. And with her words, Light felt some unsettled something thud in his chest. A disquiet. An unrest. A thinly veiled wrongness.

“My name, that name, Y/N L/N, how do you spell it?” she asked.

“Y…” Light paused. Y? No… That was almost certainly not right.

“First letter, second letter, third letter. Come on. I believe in you.”

A headache was building behind Light’s eyes.

“Y…. S-slash…. N…” No. That wasn’t a name. That wasn’t anyone’s name. And it wasn’t her name. Her name, her name was—

“You can’t spell it, Light. You can’t. And no one can. No one except an extremely, intractably lucky person could even guess what my name might be, at the time that all of this plays out.”

“What does that mean?”

“What do I look like, Light? The Death Note needs a mental image! What do I look like?”

And Light looked. He looked directly at her, piercing, probing, roving, studying, drinking her in. She looked exactly as he remembered, with H/C hair and E/C eyes and….

What color hair?

What color eyes?

What name?

“I’m not anyone, Light,” she offered with the same, sweetly saccharine smile that Light could not describe beyond those words. “Or I’m everyone, I guess. I’m every Y/N L/N who reads this, any one of them. And when the dust settles, and the story stabilizes, and those markers are replaced for real, it will be too late. Because that will not be the name you wrote in your Death Note. You’ll always have written Y, and slash, and N, and L, and slash, and N, and that will never be right. I’ll be someone else by the time it matters, every time.”

Light blinked through the stars in his vision. Looking at her hurt, his vision wobbling in and out of focus on the nothing, and the everything she was. The hair color, and the eye color, and the first name, and the last name, that were every potential quantum combination, and still none of them.

He shut his eyes.

“What do you want from me?” he asked. “Why are you following me? Why do you know who I am. What do you want?”

“Nothing. I want nothing. I don’t have a defined will. It’s not like I’m a person.” She stepped forward again, hands clenched to the bag behind her back. A normal school bag, a normal school uniform, trotting in step eastward toward the college campus. “I’m an insert. And that means I’m whoever they want me to be, every time. It’s not any deeper than that.”

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incendiary | 5 | bakugou x reader

pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Fem Reader

length: 3.5k | 5th of 8 chapters

summary: When you accidentally go viral in defense of quirkless people, an extremist group puts a target on your back. Pro hero Dynamight is the last person you want watching it.

tags/warnings:  enemies to lovers, themes of discrimination (please see note in fic masterpost), canon typical violence, eventual smut, aged up characters

series masterlist

Almost overnight, things began to change.

Bakugou had apparently decided that ignoring you was off the table now, and he was there the next morning when you awoke, audibly puttering around the kitchen, making his usual ruckus of kitchenware sounds. You listened to him work, slowly blinking awake, trying not to think too hard about the events of last night.

He came back into the living room only a few minutes later, bearing two plates of western-style breakfast, piled high with fluffy mounds of scrambled eggs and perfectly golden potatoes. He shoved a plate in front of you like he’d already sensed that you were awake, then retreated back to the kitchen. He returned with two mugs of hot coffee that smelled heavenly–almost certainly fair trade and freshly ground.

He put one in front of you, then dropped down to his place on the opposite side of the coffee table, watching you scrabble out of the blankets with something like a smirk pressing at the corner of his mouth, as if he knew his food was the fire under your feet.

“New rule, brat,” he pronounced as you finally freed yourself, flinging yourself down at the table and seizing your utensils.

You couldn’t bring yourself to stop now that you were already in motion, so you fit an entire forkful of potato in your mouth, then looked at him questioningly.

The smirk on his mouth deepened. “Your little stunt yesterday attracted every quirk supremacist in a twenty mile radius to this neighborhood, so you’re gonna have to keep away from the windows until they fuck off.”

You inhaled wrong around your potato, the steam catching in your lungs, and you coughed a little. “What? Quirk supremacists—here?”

Bakugou took a slow sip of his coffee, and you tried not to notice the way his bare bicep flexed as he brought the mug to his mouth. He really needed to invest in shirts with sleeves. “Your little cashier friend from the convenience store apparently leaked video onto YouTube already. The attack’s made a couple of the morning news shows.”

Your stomach churned, and you let your fork clatter back to your plate. “They’ve found us?”

Bakugou’s scarlet gaze tracked your expression over the top of his mug. “Not yet. But people know you’re in the general area now. Genius Office is running ID on all the weirdos showing up around here to find out who they are and what the risk is. But until they know what we’re dealing with, you’re to keep away from the windows. And you’re not going outside again.”

You didn’t think you wanted to go outside again anyway, considering the events of last night. Not for a long while, anyway.

You would never tell him, but it was kind of a relief to have Bakugou in here with you, now, understanding the kinds of people you were up against. But that so sucked, not even being able to poke your nose out a window after weeks of already being cooped up.

You nodded resignedly. You took a sip of your own coffee, then had to suppress a shiver of delight. Definitely freshly ground, and definitely fancy.

“They haven’t seen Matsui, have they?” You asked.

Bakugou shook his head. His hair looked a little messier than yesterday, piecey with gel and slightly flattened on the side he must have slept on. “No. Nothing on Matsui yet.”

You picked up your fork again and went back to your breakfast, at least reassured by that fact.

“Any estimate on how much longer this is gonna go on for?” You asked.

Bakugou scrubbed a hand through that thick golden hair. You watched, strangely enraptured, as it sprang right back up again in wild tufts. “Not much if you keep luring them straight to where you are, princess.”

You frowned into your egg. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Bakugou’s socked foot poked into yours. “It’s a safehouse for a reason. There were ground rules for a reason.”

You scowled. “Yeah yeah, I get it now. Excuse me for never having been the target of a national witch hunt before.”

Bakugou smiled, a wicked, blade-sharp thing. He leaned across the table. “So you’re gonna be good for me now, brat?”

Your fork clattered against your plate, spattering egg everywhere. You jumped in surprise, registering belatedly that you’d dropped it.

“Good for—? Good—?” you spluttered.

If anything, Bakugou’s smile went wider. “Something wrong, princess?” His eyes were practically glowing as he spoke.

What the hell was he doing? It was one thing to stop giving you the cold shoulder and act friendlier in light of everything that had happened yesterday. It was one thing to make you dinner and breakfast and not loom over you while radiating disdain from every pore. But it was entirely another to do—to do—whatever the fuck that was!

You grasped your fork with suddenly numb fingers, pointedly looking away from him. “No.” You shoveled a large potato into your mouth as if to punctuate that statement.

Bakugou just watched you, too knowingly for your taste. “Uh huh,” he said.

You finished your meal at lightspeed, desperate to get away from Bakugou and whatever that had been just now. Bakugou ate more sedately, seeming like he was mulling something over between delicate bites of his breakfast. You did not care to find out what that was.

You brought your dish to the sink when you’d finished and washed it speedily, then beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom, standing in the shower for a long time. Then you crept back to your room and managed a little bit of homework after you’d dressed, though you were a little too unfocused for your liking.

When you checked your phone you found that messages had started to pile up again, with a litany of texts from Megumi crowning the stack.

MEGUMI ✨🍹🌴💕 girl you almost died are you okay 8:58 PM those douchebags omg 8:58 PM please tell me you’re okay i’m really worried about you 9:06 PM

And then, a couple hours later, in typical fashion:

MEGUMI ✨🍹🌴💕 that rescue was so hot though 12:09 AM the way dynamight was all rough with them and then all gentle with you 12:09 AM it’s okay if you’re dead i would have passed away too 12:10 AM

You reassured her that you were fine, then paused, staring at her later messages, mystified. What did she mean, the rescue had been so hot though?

As far as you remembered, Bakugou had come slamming in there, metaphorical guns blazing, and he’d hauled you out of there much the same way. You didn’t think there had been anything particularly sexy about getting your quirkless ass almost handed to you.

Curiosity prickling in your veins, you googled around for the video Bakugou had mentioned, wondering how it had looked so different to someone on the outside. You found an hours-old upload on YouTube entitled dynamight destroys 7-eleven shopfront to save internet legend drunk girl—a title you thought a little unfair considering you had not been drunk this time, even though that was apparently your internet moniker now.

The clip was shot from a vantage point above the register, and started with the back of your head as the two men from yesterday turned the corner and almost immediately began crowding you towards the register. You saw your own face in profile as you peered back at the cashier for help—his own face conveniently hidden from the video’s perspective—and then turned back and said something muted to the two men. The smaller one stepped towards you—you saw yourself take an alarmed step back.

And then, faster than you had remembered—Bakguou was shooting into the store, the glass windows shattering under the blow from the door as he threw it open.

He was just as much a presence on screen as he was in person, all violence and savage grace. You watched as he grabbed the smaller man’s hand and twisted it at a brutal angle, then produced quirk suppressors from where they had been belted under one pant leg, just above his boot. You hadn’t even noticed it, then, hadn’t even thought to question where the quirk suppressor had come from—but he’d been wearing sweatpants yesterday, a pair not unlike the ones he’d been wearing this morning at breakfast.

But he clearly was packing some kind of emergency supply—and you wondered if he was wearing it now, even clanking around in the kitchen.

Then you watched as Bakugou approached you, saw yourself stumble as he grabbed your shirt to pull you out. To your surprise, you could see sudden concern twisting his features, clear as day, and you watched with surprise as he leaned down to look you in the face, hands going under your elbows to support you.

You remembered that—but it had all been so fast, and the sight of his hands, so gentle on you after he’d been so rough with the two men, made something in your stomach shift strangely. He really did seem to be looking after your safety, like an actual certified, probably-not-quirkist pro hero. You watched as Bakugou said something to you, and pulled you up into his arms. You instantly cringed at how truly princess-like you looked—having to be escorted out of the store under someone else’s power.

Embarrassingly, the comments section under the clip seemed particularly focused on that aspect as well.

2:11 ok but the way his arms flexed when he lifted her????? hello?????? jghgl26 2 hours ago Reply [Thumbs Up] 600 [Thumbs Down]

how he’s gonna carry me over the threshold after our wedding dynadaddy’s girl 5 hours ago Reply [Thumbs Up] 1.1k [Thumbs Down]

THE LIFT!!!!! HOLY SHIT!!! HOW EASY IT WAS FOR HIM?? am i gregnant? am i pegnate?? how to know if pregonate????? Rika Abe 2 hours ago Reply [Thumbs Up] 1.7k [Thumbs Down]

A hunted energy creeped over you as you read through them, your skin tingling. It suddenly took everything you had in you to click out of the video and not rewind it to the part where Bakugou had first hefted you into his arms. It had not been that appealing. And there was absolutely no reason you needed to witness the events again, no reason at all.

Bakugou chose that exact moment to rap on your door, and you accidentally flung your phone across the room in surprise, scrambling upright on your bed.

“Uh—come in,” you said, trying to not sound flustered.

Bakugou had clearly showered too as his hair was still damp, and moisture still glittered in the divots of his arm muscles. You clamped down very tightly on the echo of pegnate?? Am i gregnant???? that was suddenly the only sound in your entire brain.

No no no no.

You would not let Megumi and some internet perverts get the best of you.

“Oi, you just gonna sit here all day?” Bakugou demanded.

You frowned up at him. “I have been doing homework, thank you very much,” you said defensively.

Bakugou made a show of surveying your bed which was pointedly empty of any textbooks or notepads. “Yeah, looks like you’re real hard at work, princess.”

“Well I was,” you said, but you could already tell Bakugou had made up his mind.

“It’s time to talk about your second new rule,” he pronounced smugly.

“Another one?” You asked, heart sinking.

That razor sharp smile cut into Bakugou’s mouth again. “Yeah. You’re learning how to cook actual fucking food.”

You paused and stared at him, mystified. “What,” you asked flatly.

“I told you I was sick of watching you eat garbage,” he said. You could almost taste the disdain, dripping off of him like butter off of the baked potato he had so despised. “I can’t keep you alive if you die of fucking scurvy.”

“I eat fruit!” You bit back defensively. “And potatoes are good for treating scurvy!”

Bakugou wasn’t listening, though. Before you knew what was happening, he’d already fisted his hand in the back of your shirt and was hauling you to your feet. You felt like a kitten being scruffed by its intimidatingly well-muscled mother.

“Bakugou–what the hell—?”

But you were already being herded into the kitchen, where Bakugou had apparently preemptively arranged the instruments of your torture—several knives, a grater, a variety of pots, a rainbow of vegetables, an apple, some chicken, and a knob of ginger. Behind it all you spotted several other types of herbs and spices, some flour, and chicken stock.

“You’re gonna make curry, princess,” he informed you imperiously.

Curry! Okay now curry you could kind of do. You peered around for the sauce mix, poking through the ingredients on the counter.

Bakugou watched you, scarlet eyes tracking you curiously. “What,” he asked, though it was barely phrased like a question.

“Where’s the packet?” you asked, not finding it among the things he’d laid out.

Two blonde eyebrows went up, and you swore you could almost see a vein pop in Bakugou’s forehead. He grabbed the counter beside your hip, leaning back in, and you definitely did not notice the definition in his bicep as he did so.

“Packet?” He demanded, in the tones of someone who’d just witnessed their entire family get massacred. “Packet?”

You watched his handsome face work through what had to be the five stages of grief. “If I fucking ever hear about a packet again I’ll sell you to Matsui myself,” he said.

He reached over and slammed a kitchen scale down in front of you, followed by several of the ingredients. “Now pay attention, brat, I’m not showing you this twice.”

You knew better than to argue.

Under Bakugou’s stern direction, a curry roux—a term you would not have been able to supply before he’d said it—came together quickly. He stationed you at the stove, stirring everything together for almost twenty minutes while he chopped vegetables in front of you, a rainbow of carrots, potatoes, onions, and some leftover asparagus and peppers he’d dug out of the fridge. Then he made you grate an apple and some ginger into a paste while he sliced the chicken in expert strokes, narrating everything in his gruff tones.

It was strangely hypnotic, watching Bakugou’s hands work. You’d not paid much attention before, but he had long fingers, almost elegant but for the various scars and calluses that littered his skin, evidence of his career pressed into his fair flesh. You watched his fingers bunch at the end of the knife, the swift, decisive sweep of his palm moving ingredients back and forth on the cutting board.

Your skin prickled with the memory of those hands on you in the hallway after you’d passed out, the image of how gently those hands had handled you in the convenience store, and you shook off the thought, the back of your neck weirdly warm.

They were just hands. And they were Bakugou’s hands, for that matter. Make one wrong move on the end of those hands and you’d get cooked, faster than the curry you were working on now.

Eventually Bakugou divided everything into two bowls, and shepherded you over to the coffee table.

“That’s real curry, princess,” he informed you haughtily as you sat down, blowing on the golden sauce. It shimmered under the living room lighting, curls of steam rising off of it in tempting twists.

If this was real curry, you never wanted to eat anything else. As with dinner and breakfast, it was perfect—expertly seasoned, everything evenly sliced and cooked just right. You hated how much you liked it, suppressing a pleased groan as you shoveled down spoonfuls.

“I hate you for how good this is,” you admitted to him.

A wicked smirk cut the corners of Bakugou’s mouth, and the sight of it raised a strange heat to your face. You shifted uncomfortably.

Whatever. It was probably just the spice in the curry.

After dinner you helped Bakugou wash up, and you were sent for a loop by how easy it was. There was still some kind of… tension… that you couldn’t quite put your finger on, and it wasn’t like he’d done a complete one-eighty in your esteem.

But knowing now that he hadn’t despised you for your quirklessness… hadn’t even actually despised you at all, really. It seemed like it had somehow flipped a switch inside of you. You’d told him that you’d needed more time to think on it, to come to terms with the things that he’d told you about himself. But really, with the air cleared so definitively, well—

You kind of thought maybe Bakugou wasn’t horrible after all.

You still wanted to bite him, actually–that hadn’t gone away–but you definitely didn’t think he was horrible.

The thought unnerved you.

When you were done you retreated to your room, still mulling that idea over, bemused at the idea that Bakugou wasn’t actually bad if you weren’t looking at him through the lens of your quirk supremacist glasses.

You managed a little bit more homework and cleaned up your notes from one of your previous lectures, shooting off a couple questions to one of your TAs. And that’s when you finally noticed it, an email from earlier this afternoon, sitting primly at the top of your inbox. It read: New Day Japan - Interview Request

You opened the email, interest piqued by the mention of one of the country’s most famous morning programs. What it said inside floored you.

Miss L/N, My name is Honda Ichika; I’m a producer here at New Day Japan. We’re airing a segment on the two quirkless anti-discrimination bills currently circulating in the National Diet, and we plan to cover your story in relation. We would love to interview as part of this segment. Specifically, we are hoping you can comment on: - Cultural barriers quirkless civilians face - Your specific experiences with respect to the events portrayed in your viral video and subsequent run-in last evening, as a microcosm of those cultural barriers, and -Your feelings on the efforts of the assembly to pass these anti-discrimination bills. The interview won’t exceed 15 minutes and will take place Thursday morning in our studio in Nakano (address to be provided upon acceptance). While I can’t offer questions ahead of time, I promise the questions will fall within the outline I mentioned above. The story, once completed, will run Friday morning. Please let us know by Sunday what your interest is. Cordially, Honda Ichika

You gaped, stunned by the idea that anyone wanted to interview you about anything.

New Day Japan was a hugely important morning news program that had been running for something like the last fifty years, and it was a massive platform for anyone looking to speak to the average citizen.

You didn’t know that you in particular had anything worthy of that massive platform, and you were squirreled away in a safehouse besides, having just almost eaten it at the hands of two random quirkist assholes just yesterday. So it was probably not a great idea to draw any more attention to yourself, and it wasn’t like you had some huge message you wanted to share at the cost of your safety.

So you closed your laptop instead of answering, pulling up twitter on your phone for something to distract you.

And yet, even as you scrolled, your mind was helplessly drawn back to the email like a magnet, catching on key points. A segment on the two quirkless anti-discrimination bills, the cultural barriers quirkless civilians face….

Please let us know by Sunday what your interest is.

You had two days to either put it out of your mind, or figure out why it was piquing your interest so much. You could give it more thought in the morning.

You wondered absently, as you drifted off to sleep, what Bakugou would make of it.

in which bakugou waits years till you finally come around

cw: reader is a bit of a grudge holder and has trouble to see bakugou in a different light, mention of injuries, there is a (1) very heated moment towards the end - MDNI!!! -, bakugou is soft towards reader the whole time, a bit angsty but there is comfort

wc: 9.5K

an: this is quite clumsy, but it’ll have a part two asap, there might be errors. i hope you all are doing well!! <333

———

bakugou knew you ever since the two of you were babies.

he was nearly a year older than you and he always made sure you knew that and it worked, while the two of you were younger. you always looked at him with stars in your eyes, drinking in every word he said, followed him around and let him take your hand. he didn’t understand back then why you started to distance yourself from him, he had a strong quirk and he could already read, so why were you more interested in that quirkless nobody?

his superiority complex and the need to be better than everyone didn’t help the situation either. he started to bully midoriya and when you kept sticking up for the damn nerd, he truly felt like he lost. the breaking point between the two of you was when he told midoriya to jump off a building so he might get a quirk in his next life. he never seen you so angry before that. you didn’t talk to him afterwards, not even after he got attacked by a villain, you only praised midoriya for helping him. not even when all the three of you got accepted into ua until the usj attack.

bakugou managed to save you from a villain that was trying to stab his knife through your chest, thankfully just in time he blasted the bastard away. you guys didn’t have the chance to talk, too busy to save your other classmates and you ran off to see midoriya again after he got injured at the end of the fight. later that night, you did drop by with some mochi from your favourite bakery and quietly thanking him for jumping in and not letting you die. he only mumbled a quiet ‘your welcome’ before you swiftly made your way out of the bakugou’s gates.

——

he always wanted to show you how strong he was, that he can protect you from anything that life throws at any moment, deku didn’t even have a quirk until it randomly appeared (he often wondered if you knew about it, were you hiding it together?) and now he seems to surpass him in everything. could he protect you better from the world than bakugou would ever be able to?

then the sports festival came around, you were all over deku again, congratulating him when he won the first round with a hug and at the back of his mind he wished it was him that you hugged. when he won the festival (he thought he didn’t deserve it with how half n half fainted), he hoped that you’d say something to him too. you didn’t say anything to him and he tried not letting it get to him. however, later that night he received a message from you, congratulating him on his win and he was glad no one saw him because his face felt like he was on fire. that made him so proud of himself, maybe you two will get along again?

——

you still don’t talk to him though, even when you needed help with some subject around midterms, you only asked deku again and that smart girl to help you. if you would’ve looked at him with your bright eyes, you would’ve seen how eager he would’ve been tutoring you and not shitty hair. when midterms pass and you both pass, he feels relieved that you’re coming to the training camp as well without any supplementary classes needed. he didn’t think at the time that the fact he got kidnapped will be the first time you come around and hug him in years.

you came to help them a second too late, only seeing him being warped away and telling deku to not follow him. you rushed to help deku after seeing his arms, trying to ignore the fact that bakugou just got kidnapped. when kirishima decided to take control and you guys should go and save him, you went along. you didn’t hate him, but you didn’t know where you two stand after all the things he did to your best friend in the past ten years. so when you saw him surrounded by villains before iida, midoriya and kirishima flew him out to safety, you felt relieved. yes, you don’t know where the two of you stand but you still care for him. you can also tell he looked surprised when your group reunited to watch all might’s last fight but you offered him a small smile after seeing there were no injuries on his body.

ua closed its gates three days prior to bakugou’s rescue and it remained closed for another week to become a boarding school with dorms. after further discussions between parents and teachers to ensure the safety of students, everything returned to normal.

two days before moving in, the bakugou’s bell was rung, and bakugou mitsuki was the one to answer the door. to say she was surprised to see the (h/c) coloured girl stand shyly in-front of their house was an understatement. mitsuki might be older, her son might think she’s a nagging old hag but she wasn’t stupid. the silent fallout between you and her son is still up in the air but she could never hold a grudge against you, she knows her son could be an outright asshole. mitsuki really believed that if god is real, then there is hope for the two of you to get along again.

“good afternoon sweet girl, long time no see, how have you been?” her warm smile instantly put you under ease and you gave her a timid smile of your own.

“good afternoon mitsuki, i’m doing alright, thank you. is katsuki home?” you quietly ask after you politely answer her question and the older woman can barely hide her smile widening at the fact that you still call her son by his first name. maybe things aren’t that bad anymore.

“yes, he is. the police advised for him to not go outside till school starts again. would you like to come in?” she moves to stand aside, but you shake your head at her invitation.

“no, no i just wanted to talk to him, if that’s okay” you look down to avoid her eyes that is the exact resemblance of her sons, well katsuki is the exact replica of mitsuki. she won’t push you to come in, so she yells loudly like usual for her son to come downstairs because someone is here to see him. when she turns towards you again is when she sees the plastic bag that you’re holding, seemingly full of things that looked like katsuki’s favourites. that made her feel warmth spread through her chest, you still remember what he likes.

“what is it old hag? can’t you just tell ‘em to-“ katsuki stops in the middle of his yelling when he reaches the front door, only to see you standing there. “hey” he stops next to his mum, his voice recognisably softer, which his mum would tease about but she decides against it, it’s not time for that yet.

“hey” you mumble, curling into your hoodie from the two pair of eyes (why do they look the exact same, it’s scary) staring at you. before bakugou could yell at his mum again to back off, mitsuki slips away after telling the two of you that she’ll see what masaru is up to. the both of you are grateful for that. after a few minutes of quietly standing you find the courage to talk to the ash blonde boy in front of you “i bought you a few things, i hope you’re doing okay with all the things that happened” you don’t look up to him instead you watch your fingers fiddle with your hoodie.

bakugou on the hand is focused on your head, waiting for you eyes to meet his, before gathering his thoughts. he’s slightly taken aback that you came to see him, even if it’s only because he got kidnapped but it means a lot to bakugou that you came to check up on him. “i’m good, heroes need to be tough and get though anythin’ that’s thrown at ‘em” he shrugged, wanting to come off cool and ignore how fast his heart was beating.

without saying another word, you gently wrap your arms around his middle and bury your face into his sturdy chest, fearing he might slip away again. bakugou’s eyes widen at the contact, suddenly not knowing what to do with his hands before clumsily circle them around your shoulders and pull you closer to him. he rest his chin on the crown of your head, noting to himself that you smell like strawberries and peaches and hopes you can’t feel his heart rate quicken (you did, your heart was beating fast too). after a while you pulled away, giving him a small smile before extending your hand with the plastic bag towards him. “i got you a few things, i hope they will cheer you up from all the trouble that you’ve experienced”

he takes it from you, feeling the blush on his cheeks spread. “thanks” he whispers and he hoped you know that he’s grateful for your hug too. before he could ask if you want to come in you slowly start to back off towards the road.

“i’ll see you in school katsuki, be good” your smile never faltered and you gave him a small wave. bakugou felt like maybe things were starting to change between the two of you for good as he muttered a “you too” after you and walked inside after you disappeared from his sight.

mitsuki, who’s been watching the two of you the whole time from one of the windows smiled to herself, maybe there was hope after all.

——

from them on, your interaction with bakugou increased by a bit, now you greet him around campus whenever you see him, but no more than that. bakugou longed to make conversations with you about literally anything, yet he didn’t force himself on you, happy either way.

after a week or too, you didn’t miss the way bakugou treated izuku before walking away, you know he said something to make the green haired boy stand there with slightly wide eyes. when the ash blonde was out of earshot, you walked up to izuku to make sure he’s alright. when you reached him, he motioned for you two to go outside and when you two walked through the doors, you both sat down on the stairs.

“i think he knows about ofa” izuku mumbled nervously, hands twitching in his lap as he stared ahead. “i mean it was expected, kacchan is very smart and-“ izuku went on his own train of thoughts and you gently grabbed one of his hand.

“it was inevitable either way, katsuki won’t tell a soul either way, we both know he’s not the type” you reassure your best friend, giving him a small smile.

“i know, he’ll probably get mad though haha” izuku lets out a forced laugh and you just move your hand to rub his back.

what you didn’t expect the next morning was that you’d find both boys wrapped in bandages and in a pretty beat up state. well if you had to guess, you were sure with katsuki, that the conversation between them would never had been just sitting next one other and discuss what’s on your mind. you were even more surprised when izuku told you that they are both in house arrest for a few days and have to clean the building. aizawa sensei did not go easy on them with the punishments.

bakugou only looked at the two of you while waiting for everyone to leave for classes, wishing you’d come up to him as well, but he decided to talk to you tonight about his conversation with midoriya and you were quite surprised later that afternoon when he walked up to you, asking if you two could talk somewhere private. you only nodded and followed him up to his room.

when you two reached your destination, he let you in first and you looked around his room since this is your first time here and it was very bakugou like and you swear you saw a few all might figurines and were those romance novels? you didn’t have much time to think about when he cleared his throat from his spot on the bed where he seemingly sat down while you were looking around.

“you knew about it, didn’t you?” he quietly asked, looking directly in your eyes with an unreadable emotion. you looked right back at him, thinking of the right answer, but he continued. “you always favoured that damn nerd” he added somewhat bitterly while looking away from you.

“it’s not about favouring anyone katsuki” his heart quickens when he hears you calling him by his first name “and it wasn’t my place to tell you about the inheritance of one for all.” he knows you’re right with the slight sharpness in your tone. “i found it out by accident too if it calms your nerves. i know him like the back of my hand so i knew something was up when he suddenly couldn’t spend time with me. so i followed him and saw him with all might, then there was no point in hiding it” you shrugged but your soft gaze remained on him.

bakugou decided to not try and argue with you, not wanting to lose the small amount of involvement you two built up. so he only nodded while standing up and walked you back down the common room without any other words being exchanged. you were kind of expecting him to go off on you but you didn’t want to talk about it any further, this is izuku’s business not yours, you’re just happy that he was given a chance to prove himself to be a hero.

——

the two of you go back to how things were before your conversation and soon enough winter approaches. after the matches with 1B, bakugou walked up to you while you were walking back to the dorms. you were talking with uraraka about todays events when he brushed his hand against your back with such gentleness that you thought it was one of the girls. when you turned around you abruptly stop and look at him, eyes round with wonder.

“can i talk to you for a second?” his rough voice makes it hard to understand his words at first with how quiet his voice is and you turn towards ochaco, who looked at the both of you with curiosity.

“i’ll meet you back at the dorms” you flash her a smile and she walks away from the two of with a nod. “is everything okay?” you ask bakugou as the two of you walk in a comfortable pace.

“i just, i wanted to tell you that you did great today” he slowly said while looking ahead. “i uh, i think your new move is quite cool” he added, feeling the redness spread across his cheeks.

“you think? it took me a while to get it right but i’m so happy that i was able to use it just like how i planned” you explain to him how you put the whole move together and all of his attention was on you, drinking your words in. this is probably the first time you talked this much to him since your childhood. “you know, i’m glad you’re becoming a team player” you add at the end and he knew you meant that he involved his team in his plans instead of just fighting on his own.

“yeah, as long as they follow what i say, anyone with me will win” he smirked as the two of you reached the dorm building, you turn towards him with a smile and he feels like he made a small accomplishment with you.

——

the next time the two of you have this amount of conversation is when when he wakes up from his coma after pushing izuku out of the way before shigaraki could hit him. you knew the two have been training together more recently after izuku manifested a second quirk during the training fight against class 1B and then thanks to todoroki, they both were able to do their hero work studies at endeavour’s agency where all three of them improved drastically. you were lucky enough to land a position at mirko’s agency where you learned a few new skills yourself. then bakugou accompanied izuku back to shigaraki to fight along and protect him, which resulted in him getting seriously injured.

you were waiting for izuku to wake up when you heard him stomping against the cold tile floor, shouting that izuku needs to wake up. your heart swells at the fact that he’s worried for your childhood friend, yet you were also worried for him, so without thinking you jump up and stop him abruptly when you gently hug him. you didn’t want to hurt his wound on his lower stomach nor the one on his shoulder so you pulled away soon after and that was enough time for the others to pick him up and take him back to bed and you followed them.

the rest of your friends walked out of the room the second you stepped in and closed the door behind them. you took a seat on his bed, right next to his hand and you took it in yours. you held it delicately, your tender caressing putting him at ease as you moved it into your lap. your uniform’s skirt slid up a little bit so his naturally warm hand was touching your bare thigh and he tried his best not blush at the contact. he was waiting for you to talk first when he felt something wet drop on his hand, so when he heard you sniffle, he instantly felt alarmed. he moved his hand up from your lap to cradle your face and turn you towards him. no words were needed as he pulled your shaking body towards his, engulfing you in a hug while stroking your back and face while hiding his face in your hair (if only the two of you knew back then that no less than two months later you’ll be in the same position with even more emotions).

——

the first time bakugou saw you truly angry with the deku was when he decided to leave you all behind, only leaving letters to explain how he’s putting everyone in more danger if he stays in one place.

“it’s not all for one who will kill him, i will, he should be more scared of me” you pave back and forth in the common rooms where everyone is gathered to find a way to get izuku back. “what is he thinking, does he think he can take them on without any back up? the second i see him, i will end him for real” your rant is not taken seriously by anyone, they were sharing your opinion but maybe they weren’t to as aggressive about it (izuku later admitted that he was indeed scared of your wrath and offered you a limited edition figurine of all might, which you refused to accept).

no one heard of him for a while now and none of you could sit around any longer and hope for a miracle. so when you all managed to get endeavour to meet with principal nezu in his office and find out where he was currently at, you all feel somewhat relived, now all you had to was bring him back.

you all reached the mall after saving him from the villain dictator, though he still put up a fight, thinking that no matter what, he’ll be better off alone. everyone told izuku something that influenced them thanks to him but he still didn’t listen. it was hard to look at him, all beat up and tired and you wonder when was the last time he had a proper meal and a good nights sleep. he only stopped hopping around, when bakugou started to talk to him and apologise for how he treated him all those years. your eyes felt glossy when bakugou rushed towards izuku’s fainting body.

——

you and bakugou didn’t talk much since then, too focused on training for the war. the two of talked again when you reached your temporary dormitory the day before luring all for one to you. a knock was heard on your door around 8pm and you wondered who it was. bakugou stood there, now changed out of his hero costume and only wore his usual comfy outfit. you let him in right away and you both sit on your bed. his fingers linger on your arm first before he slides his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together.

“you better not die out there (y/n)” the use of your name makes it sound more sincere and serious, the gentleness of his voice makes your heart flutter. you squeeze his hand as you grin up at him and lean your head against his shoulder.

“you better not die out there either katsuki” you add quietly, the both of you sitting on the edge of your bed in silence.

if only the two of you knew back then.

——

everything is blurry when you open your eyes, the lights are too bright and you swiftly close your eyes with a wince, suddenly aware of the amount scars you must’ve suffered from the war. your mind feels hazy as you try to find your bearings again. how long have you been out for? how is everyone doing?

you don’t even bother to sit up so just lay there with staring up at the ceiling, you’re alone in the room, maybe your injuries were too severe and as fast as you possibly can, you check if you still have your limbs attached to you. your left leg is hang up, seeming broken while the other one is only bandaged up. your arms aren’t broken, only a few of your fingers and out of the blue you remember taking a hit with your right shoulder. you don’t even want to think about the state your chest must be in. you rest your head on your pillow again as you force yourself to remember.

you remember winning, that’s for sure.

you also remember hitting your head so hard you barely managed to continue on fighting and that kind of answers why you have a hard time getting flashbacks. you’re so deep in thought that you don’t even notice someone walking in.

“oh my god shoji, she’s awake! go and get a doctor” you recognise jiro’s voice before you see her and you turn towards her direction. “you’re the last one to wake up, we were so worried!” she rushes to your side, her tone is full of worry.

“so i had been out for a while huh” you wish you could tell her that your ears are acting funny but you don’t have the heart to say anything when you see one of hers wrapped up, meaning her quirk is damaged. you are barely acknowledging how the door of your room is getting more busy, when a doctor walks in with a nurse.

“miss (l/n), you spent nearly two weeks in coma. although from those severe injuries you collected during the war needed time to heal.” then the doctor goes on about fractures, broken bones and you have a concussion as well. you only hummed in response as you stared up the ceiling again. according to the nurse, your bandages are holding up nicely and so are the machines around you but told you that she’ll be back in a few hours to check up on you.

once they leave your room, your family is the first one to come in. your mum sits down right away, next to your bed and you see her eyes are red, probably from crying all day and night, hoping you wake up soon, but she smiles at you with so much care you feel your eyes water. your dad is sitting down on your other side, his whole face looks relaxed now that you’re awake. you listen to them as the kindly scold you but they reassure you how proud they are of you for being so brave. your mum even told you that’ll she cook your favourite dish tomorrow and bring it in for you. they left two hours later, but your room became more busy after that.

your friends crowded around your bed, all feeling relief that finally you’re awake too. they are all bandaged up, but the happiness on their faces made you feel better. they all filled you in on their own journey with the hospital. when izuku walked in through the door, they all said their goodbyes and get well soons, promising to visit you tomorrow.

izuku was in no better state than you, needing a crutch to walk around. a wide smile is stretching on his face, as he looks at you and you return it.

“the hero of our future, how are you?” your voice is still rough from not using it in a while.

“it’s only because everyone helped me taking down all for one and shigaraki, we did it together. besides i’m feeling so much now that my best friend is awake.” he replies with fondness in his voice.

“who would’ve thought three years ago that we’d be here today like this” you let out a soft snicker.

“i’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me, ever since we were kids” izuku tears up and you would wipe his tears for him if you could move your fingers. “kacchan is outside, you two should talk as well” he adds with a gentle tone and you only nod.

you remember him getting a deadly shot.

as izuku walks out, kirishima rolls bakugou in, he’s body in a wheelchair. he isn’t as moody as he usually is and his face looks so tender when he finally looks at you. when kirishima left, he leaps out of the chair and slowly sits next to you, just like you did two months ago. you wish you could feel his touch around your hand when he gently grabs it and when the two of you finally look at each other, your tears are unstoppable. he lefts your hand up to cradle his cheeks, seeking your comfort while sniffling and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this. no words are said this time around either, the both of you happy to be around the other.

——

it will take japan a long time to get back on track after the destruction, the war had caused. everyone is still experiencing the aftermath, but things are looking bright.

you’re reading an article about another city being successfully built up again as you walk towards your classroom. your third year only started two months ago, the pressure of graduating and becoming an actual, full time hero is somewhat taking a tool on all of you. however some of your classmates know how to bring the fun in during stressful times.

“y’all, barbecue night tomorrow, how does that sound?” mina loudly asks as she looks around the room and everyone gets rather excited about the idea, excitedly chatting with each other. you walk towards izuku, to show him the article on your phone, knowing he still feels like he was the cause of the war, so news like this reassure him somewhat, that no one blames him. he leans down to read it and he excitedly rambles to you that half of japan had been rebuilt already with some help from overseas. the two of you continue talking until aizawa sensei walks in tiredly as always and the chatter among the class dissolves and everyone sits down to their desks.

the rest of the day goes by uneventful, everyone is preparing to blow some steam off during the weekend. bakugou comfortably sits on one of the sofa’s with legs spread, his arms is resting on the headrest as he lazily scrolls through his phone. it wasn’t his turn to make dinner tonight either and kirishima is away training with a few others. bakugou prefers to train early in the morning so he doesn’t have to listen to the nagging of his friends about not spending enough time with them in the afternoons.

he feels someone plop down next to him and when he turns his head at the person who interrupted his rather ‘productive’ time, he stops the shout bubbling in his throat when he sees your bright (e/c) eyes staring at him. his features visibly soften as he takes in your face, he knows you came back from training and just got out of the showers, your usual scent of strawberry and peaches fills his nostrils and your hair still damp. you’re dressed comfortably, wearing shorts and a baggy shirt and you’re eating a granola bar.

your relationship with bakugou hadn’t changed much since the war ended apart from the two of you talking much more than before. your second year was hectic, the war caused difficulties for everyone, the two of you didn’t really have that much time to be around each other, either way the both of you are happy that the two of you are working your way towards a blossoming, strong friendship. bakugou’s behaviour changed since his first year, he matured and learned to keep his anger under control, mainly around you. he’s also larger than before, his tank top barely hiding the bulging muscles or the baggy pants are barely loose around the thick of his thighs. bakugou looks much more grown up as well, sometimes sporting a stubble and his hair is more tamed at the top with a visible undercut and easily towers over people.

it’s not just him though, you’ve grown into a beautiful young lady as well. you’re hair is longer than it used to be, you lost your baby face and gained sharpness to your cheeks and your curves are more defined. kindness always radiates from your form whenever you’re around and (to bakugou’s dismay) admirers found their way to you, but you politely rejected their advances.

“dinner’s ready soon, so don’t stuff yourself full off that” he gently scolds you and your lips curl up in a smile as you take another bite.

“i know katsu, but it was yelling my name! how could i just leave it there?” you giggle as you fake a pout and you lean more into the sofas cushions with your side and bakugou shakes his head, but a small grin finds its way to his lips. the two of you engage in a small talk about how kaminari electrified sero by mistake, make the poor boy push against a passing midoriya, resulting the both roll around the floor.

during your conversation with the blonde, more people started to make their way into the common room and soon enough dinner was ready too. bakugou helps you stand up from the couch as he extends his hand for you to take and pulls you up tenderly and you’re pressed against his for a second before you thanked him with a smile for helping you and left to join uraraka at one of the tables (he wished you’d sit with him).

the next day, the height alliance was echoing of laughter, the atmosphere was welcoming as 3B joined your class for the night. there are a few games planned, like mario kart, uno and other board games, the playlist jiro put together was playing on the speakers. you were standing next to uraraka as you listened to some of the girls talking about a new boy band that recently came out but you often found your attention slip away and your eyes involuntarily found bakugou every now and then. he was sitting on one of the couches, seemingly in a conversation with a few others. everyone is wearing causal clothes instead of the comfy joggers and shorts and you have to admit, bakugou looks very hot in his black jeans and his simple black shirt. it doesn’t mean that bakugou doesn’t sit like he usually is, his thighs are spread but this time his hands in his pockets.

you never really focused on your romantic feelings towards anyone, you might be a late boomer for that, but even if you and bakugou had a fallout, for some reason it was always obvious that you had some sort of feelings for him. he was the very first friend you made, of course he’ll have a special place in your heart, even so the way he treated midoriya during your middle school years, barely giving him a chance to have a somewhat normal childhood set you off. for a long time back then, you weren’t sure if there was any way of the two of you becoming friends again, but he kept proving himself from time to time that he isn’t the same as he was back then.

the realisation of your feelings was around the time when uraraka and midoriya got together. uraraka shyly asked you one day, if there was anything going on between you and midoriya and you knew of the brown haired girl’s crush on you best friend and at first you weren’t sure what to say to her. you never thought of midoriya that way, you two were more like siblings rather than lovers materials and in the best way possible, you tried to explain that to uraraka. unbeknownst to her, you also knew about midoriya’s crush on uraraka and you helped to set the two up together. the three of you were walking around campus, the couple were holding hands and when you looked at their laced fingers, bakugou popped into your head with a warm feeling and how nice it would be to hold his. you abruptly stopped at the thought of him in that way and you start to shake your head, making the couple walking with you to slow down and you watch at you with a concerned look.

“what’s wrong (y/n)?” midoriya’s voices reaches you and you stop shaking your head. when you turn to look at them, your eyes wide and your face is flushed red. uraraka opens her mouth to talk but you’re faster.

“i think i might have feelings for katsuki” you whisper, hoping the two catched what you said. midoriya’s face looks more calm than a second ago and uraraka’s lips are stretched in a wide grin. “okay, let’s go! do not tell a soul or bring it up again!” you quicken up your pace and start walking ahead of the couple and after a snicker they follow after.

“we should play truth or dare!” mina’s voice brings you out of your rather embarrassing memory and you see everyone moving towards the sofa’s. there is many of you so the chance of you getting picked is low, so you make your way where everyone is gathering. you make eye contact with jiro when you’re looking around for an empty space and she’s flashing a small smile, patting the seat next to her and you beam at her for offering.

when everyone is settled, the game begins. at first it starts out innocent, with a few easy questions like ‘what’s your most embarrassing story?’ or ‘worst date’, but after a while the boys start to feel risky with the dares and suddenly there are faces covered in lipstick marks, izuku had to shout ‘i’m here’ from the rooftop and so on. things were light till mina turned to bakugou.

“truth or dare, mr. grumpy pants?” she smirks at him, eyes glinting in slight mischief and that’s never good.

“raccoon eyes, i’m not even fucking playing” bakugou shouts at the pinkette, making her smirk widen.

“are you scared?” she taunted.

“i’m not! truth” he mumbled the last word.

“do you have a crush on anyone kacchan?” kaminari leans in before mina could ask him the same question before quickly pulling away so he’s face doesn’t get blown off.

“what’s it to you? i do, whatever. now leave me the hell alone” bakugou growls while standing up and retreats to his room before anyone could get more information out of him. kirishima smiled knowingly after him and made eye contact with you, which made you furrow your eyebrows. so bakugou likes someone, she must be pretty lucky then, you think, trying to not let the sadness be apparent on your face.

the rest of the night went by, despite the bomb bakugou dropped on everyone about having a crush, the bakusquad started to make plans to get the ash blonde tell them who it was. later, around 2am, everyone decided to wrap the party up, thanking for 3B for joining you all and you’ll clean up the mess in the morning, too tired to get it done this late.

you take in a huge breath when you step into your room, relieved to finally be alone. it’s not like, you hate being around your friends, but sometimes this amount of people make you feel overwhelmed. you also can’t stop thinking about bakugou, your heart too loud to hear your thoughts and you wish so badly to be able to sleep right now and not feeling this ache of wanting him, knowing he probably wants somebody else.

——

the next few weeks are all the same, packed with tests, training, homework and the excitement for the training camp bubbling in your stomach. although, all of the stress leaves you in a second when you pass all of your tests and pack for the camp. you’ve been thinking about bakugou more and more and you managed to avoid him for your own sake. the uncertainty of having a chance with him made you feel nervous being around him, like you aren’t delusional, it would be weird if he actually thought of you that way since your fallout and all. you also don’t want to lose the friendship the two of you managed to build up again, so you’d rather stand aside and watch him be happy with someone else than losing him.

with thoughts like that, it was hard to get a decent amount sleep, you woke up quite groggy and moody the next morning. you took your time to get ready, coaxing (trying) yourself into a happier mood before anyone realises that something is off. you aren’t in the mood to explain yourself to anyone and you’re more than grateful for midoriya and uraraka for not bothering you about the whole thing you admitted to them.

a knock interrupted your thought process and you loudly asked the person on the other side to wait a second before opening the door, you were in the middle of dressing up in your uniform. bakugou was leaning against the door when you opened the door, watching you fumble with your tie and he quietly scoffed to himself before gently pulling your hands away and helped you. the sudden shock of seeing him caused you to freeze up at first but you let your hands fall down next to your sides while staring ahead of you.

“there dumbass” he rasps, the morning voice is still evident, making your brain hazy. “do you need help with your luggage? the bus just pulled up and we are putting our shit in” his voice is low as he slowly talks, wanting you to look up at him with your pretty hues, however your eyes remained on his shirt.

“that would be nice, thank you” you don’t look at him, instead you’re making your way back inside your room, then pull a large suitcase towards him.

bakugou picks it up without effort, vermilion eyes still trained on your figure “oi, are you okay?” his voice is now gentle compared to his usual harsh tone, stepping closer to you and you don’t move.

“yeah, i just didn’t sleep well last” you mumble out. “but it’s okay, i’ll just sleep on the bus” you force a smile on your face and before he could call you out on barely sleeping, you swiftly turn around to get your backpack and close your door. “let’s go, we’ll be late” you grab his arm and make your way down to the others. once you walk out of the building, you let go of bakugou’s arm and quietly walked towards the others.

bakugou won’t admit it, but he liked the warmth of your hand on his arm. although lately he feels like you’ve been pulling away from him, had he upset you somehow? bakugou doesn’t even want to think about the two of you falling out again, he knows he won’t be able to take it and that will tear his tough exterior down, he can’t let neither happen. bakugou decided the second the bus left and kirishima sat down next to him that during the one week of training camp, he will talk to you about his feelings, even if he knows that you won’t reciprocate them.

the ride towards the destination where your training camp will take place is three hours away from the school. uraraka asked you if it’s okay for her to sit with midoriya, to which you gave her a reassuring smile with a small nod. tsu takes a seat next to you a few minutes later, asking if you’re doing alright and you just put your head on her shoulder while mumbling about how tired you feel. you don’t even realise how you fell asleep till you feel tsu gently nudging you to wake up because you arrived. you don’t feel any less tired nonetheless, the aching feelings never leave. the boys help you girls with your suitcases when you step down from the bus and you all walk inside the large house you’ll be staying at.

this time, two people will share one room instead of everyone sharing one with their genders. mina jumps on you right away, begging for you to join her and you only grab her hand and drag her towards one of the rooms. the second you walk into the room, you plop down on the bed that’s closer to the window.

“we aren’t doing anything today, right?” you ask mina with your eyes closed.

“no we only start on monday, so today we can just relax and settle in!” she excitedly replied and you hear a bunch of things scatter around the floor already.

“good, i’m taking a nap” you pull the covers on top of you, only realising how drained you feel mentally. maybe you should talk to midoriya and uraraka about it, in hopes of feeling better, yeah you’ll do that once you slept.

“girl, what-“ mina doesn’t finish her sentence, already hearing your even breathing. she wonders if you’re doing alright, you’ve been kind of strange lately. at first she thought it was because you were stressed over the exams but she isn’t so sure anymore and mina damn well knows that a certain ash blonde boy is worried about you. mina didn’t have to ask bakugou if he liked you more than a friend, it was always evident since first year how he’s much more gentle around you. she decided not to push it with bakugou though, she doesn’t want to make you or him uncomfortable and mina knows that bakugou knows what he’s doing, she’s just there to support him even if she doesn’t know how you feel towards him.

after a few hours, you wake up to find your room empty. mina’s colourful things, mainly pink, fill up the half of the room and you’re surprised to see how the room isn’t a mess, well yet. you look at your phone to check the time with wide eyes when you realise, you’re already in the evening. there was a message from your pink friend to let you know that she’ll come and wake you up before dinner if you are still asleep then. you stand up from your bed and lock the door so no one walks in on you while changing. you change into a pair of gym shorts and a loose fitting shirt and you unpack your clothes and other necessities first before unlocking the door and leave your room to join the others. you hope they aren’t mad at you for not being around them lately (they are more worried than mad).

everyone is hanging outside, the camp had a large garden with a small pond at the back and a few benches with tables paired surrounded it. there was a larger table set up as well with snack and drinks for now, with cups and plates as well and you headed towards it.

“look who decided to join us!” kirishima exclaims loudly with a large smile plastered on his face and swings his arm around your shoulder, around you everyone cheers “you good?” he asks with a quieter tone, knowing it’s only a matter of seconds before everyone else surrounds you.

“yeah, just awfully hungry!” you let out a small laugh when you grab a bag of chips. “when’s dinner anyways?” you turn towards him curiously, knowing your appetite won’t go away till you had eaten a proper dinner.

“in half an hour” kirishima chuckles as he lets go of you (he felt his best friend’s red eyes on him the whole time and he doesn’t want to die anytime soon) and asks if you wanted to join him and the others which you only nod to, mentally preparing to face bakugou after your rather awkward encounter earlier that morning. towards your way to the table, mina stands up to greet you with a hug.

“i hope i didn’t wake you, i tried to be quiet while unpacking.” she says with a grin while rubbing your arms. you shake your head, mirroring her expression and she ushered you to sit down… next to bakugou.

“hi” you quietly greet the grumpy boy with a small smile, trying not to make him feel uncomfortable for pressing against him too much because mina took a seat next to you, sitting too closely. his left hand is resting on the backrest of the bench between you two and he’s only wearing a red wifebeater with black shorts, your thighs press tightly against his and you’re grateful he’s sitting like this because you’re not sure if you could handle being pressed against his hard chest. he only gives you a nod before he drinks from his water battle, his eyes are unreadable, his feature are blank. you must’ve made him upset because even when the two of you weren’t on talking terms, he never acted like this, so close yet so far away from you.

maybe he knows about your crush on him?

before you could overthink, mina turns towards you excitedly with sero and kaminari, asking for your opinion of something. it lead to you easily engaging in a conversation with them nearly forgetting about bakugou sitting next to you, realising that he hasn’t talked since you sat down. maybe he didn’t want to talk with you around?

“i’m gonna go and find ochaco, i’ll talk to you later okay?” you stood up and smiled at your friends as you excused yourself, kirishima looked at you with both brows raised, seemingly returned from somewhere. you only gave him a smile that didn’t reach your eyes but he only gave you a warm one back before turning towards his friends.

you walked towards where uraraka was sitting and when she made eye contact with you her rosy cheeks spread with a smile. you sat down next to her and she excitedly included you on what they were talking about with the dekusquad, feeling the lingering gaze of bakugou’s eyes on you, but you didn’t look at him at all.

bakugou didn’t want you to leave them, he knew he was acting differently and he didn’t talk during your conversation but he missed hearing you. hearing your voice is like a remedy for his aching heart and when you sat down, nearly pressing up against him, it took every ounce of his self control to not pull you close and have you nestled in his arms. like when kirishima had his arms around your shoulders, he so damn wished it was him holding you close like that and that’s why, he’ll ask you to talk to him after dinner.

dinner rolled around and you ate like a madman, snacks can only satisfy your appetite to a certain extent and the food that was served tasted like heaven. you still prefer bakugou’s cooking though. after dinner, a few still remained in their seats while others started to mingle. you were peacefully chatting with uraraka when her eyes jumped up and back down to you and before you could look up, a warm hand gently brushed against your shoulder.

“can we talk?” a deep voice rasps, your eyes look widely at uraraka who in turn only gives you a reassuring smile and you turn around to face bakugou.

“yeah, sure” you nervously smile and you swear your heart will come out of your throat at this rate. the rest of your way towards bakugou’s room is a blur as you follow him, your knees feel wobbly and you could empty your dinner on the floor.

bakugou let’s you in before himself and closes the door after the both of you are inside. it seems like he’s sharing a room with kirishima because the crimson riot blanket is something the redhead would own. that makes you feel a tad bit better and you sit down on kirishima’s bed, fingers finding the soft material of the blanket. bakugou sits down on his bed across from you, leaning back on his hands, vermillion eyes taking you in. his posture makes him look so sure of himself but that’s further away from how he actually feels. bakugou doesn’t know how to talk to you without feeling his heart racing or the tips of his ear turn red and the so called butterflies go wild in his stomach.

you patiently wait for him to start, the floor seems to be a great spot to look at and your leg is bouncing but it all stops when he finally starts talking to you “have i done somethin? you’ve been ignorin’ me lately.” he lowly grumbles, eyes never leaving you.

“i didn’t, no i-“ you don’t even know what to say, too caught off guard by his question. “i wasn’t uh ignoring you” you whisper nervously and you could faint right this instant.

“ya weren’t? ‘cos it felt like it” his voice sounded louder than before and now he leans back up with his arms crossed. “thought we started to get closer ya know” you look up at him when he says that, eyes slightly widen and he’s looking away from you now, pouting. he’ll knew if you lie to him, so you don’t know what to tell him. you’re scared to tell bakugou the truth about your feelings for him because you could ruin everything (you wouldn’t) you have with him.

“i couldn’t be around you knowing you like someone else” the words come out before you could stop them and you quickly cover your face after the realisation hits you. “i’m so dumb, i’m sorry. i know there is no chance of you liking me, like i didn’t even talk to you for years before ua because i was so damn mad, for how you treated izuku. and like i know i didn’t have a reason to, even izuku told me to not be afraid of you, i didn’t know if you’d end up hating me too during middle school. but you’re not a bad person on the inside, i’ve come to learn that and i really like being around you, i’ve realised there isn’t really anyone else for me but you and it hurts how much i need you knowing you don’t want me” you’re sobbing into your hands as the words come out wobbly and you can’t stop them leaving your lips.

it takes bakugou a few minutes to actually understand what you’re saying and he feels relieved knowing you feel the same as him. he quickly gathers his thoughts because you are literally breaking down infront of him and he’s just sitting there pouting like an idiot.

“oi, look at me” he gently pleaded as he kneeled down infront of you, large warm hands attached themselves to your smaller wrist to tug your hands out of his view. when you let him, your eyes are glossy and red, yet he still thinks you’re beautiful. “i- fuck, i was worried you’d never talk me again after how i acted. fuck, i don’t even know what i did to deserve even the smallest moments with ya.” he lets out a dry chuckle, but his eyes never leave yours. “when you started to be more open towards me, as much as i wished to, i didn’t want force myself on you and lose you again. i’ve always known since we were kids that i want to be with you.” his thumbs started to stroke your cheeks as he takes a hold of your face and you look at him bewilderingly from his confession. “and now you’re here tellin’ me what i’ve been craving to hear for years now, it feels fucking insane.” he leans in closer now, looking up at you with love filled eyes, hands wondering down from your face to your hips. “if you’ll have me, i’ll treat you like you deserve. so please have me (y/n)” he’s begging now, he will take whatever pain life throws at him, as long as you’re by his side.

“katsuki..” your voice is small, barely audible as you try to process what is going on, bakugou likes you. it’s you who he likes and he wants to be with you just as much as you want to be with him. “i’ll die if it isn’t you i’m with” you whimper and he pulls you closer to meet your body halfway. one of his hands sneak back up to your cheek and your arms wrap around his neck.

your lips finally meet, moulding perfectly together and it’s quite clumsy since it’s both of your first kiss, but it doesn’t matter. your hand sneaks up into his ash blonde hair to pull him closer to you before he leaves for a second to breath, and then leans back in, both hands now placed on your hips again and pulls you impossibly close. his tongue is licking at your bottom lip to let him in, which you do and completely let go of yourself.

suddenly you feel your back pressed against the soft mattress and bakugou is above you, kissing you like it’s your last one. a hand wanders down your thighs and he pulls away a little to ask for permission and when you lean back up for more, he moves your thigh out of the way and presses himself closer. now with your hips touching, you whimper into the kiss when he ruts into as gently as he can, he pulls away to kiss along your jaw and down to your neck, trying to find that sweet spot of yours. you moan when he kisses where your shoulder and neck meets and he starts to kiss, lick and suck at the spot all at once.

your thighs squeeze his waist as his movement never stop and the repeated actions on your neck doesn’t help either. when bakugou finishes he leaves with a small kiss on the bruising spot and moves back to your lips. the kiss this time is more hungry and hot, but before things could be taken any further, bakugou leans back and moves so you two can see each other.

“let me take you out first, princess” he looks down at you with a soft look and his lips are plump and wet from the kiss.

“okay” you smile wildly at him and he pulls the both of you up so the both of you are sitting up and brings you in his arms.

“i’m so fucking happy that you finally came around, it was worth to wait all these years” he whispers against your ears and you let out a giggle.

“thank you for waiting for me kats” you peck his lips and for the first time ever, bakugou’s face breaks out in a large grin.

(midoriya, uraraka, kirishima and mina were all standing outside the room until the two of you started kissing. they all smiled to each other, feeling happy for their friends and relieved that the two of you finally confessed)

❀ and you take me the way i am ( 31.8k+ ) ( 2/2 ) | tumblr — ao3

❀ i'm a liability, get you wild, make you leave... ( 3.9k+ ) ( 1/1 ) | tumblr — ao3

❀ closer to me than my bones, you are there ( 1.1k+ ) ( 1/1 ) | tumblr — ao3

❀ you feel like home (you're like a dream come true) ( 3k+ ) ( 1/1 ) | tumblr — ao3

❀ well, i've been saved by the grace of southern charm ( 20k+ ) ( 2/4 ) | ao3

❀ insecure!bakugou | one — two — three

❀ cowboy!bakugou | one — two — three

❀ domestic!bakugou | one — two

❀ alt. next door neighbor!bakugou

❀ snippet of witcher!bakugou i will never finish

❀ pro hero!bakugou x fairy!reader

❀ the struggle of dating a new pro hero

❀ boss!bakugou

❀ soulmate/arranged marriage au

❀ thinking about kiddos

❀ ex-pro chef!bakugou that i will never write

❀ nerd!bakugou

❀ ex-husband!bakugou

❀ fantasy/god of war-ish au

❀ now that my broken bones all have been healed... ( 26.1k+ ) ( 2/2 ) | tumblr — ao3

❀ i know i am but summer to your heart... ( 2.2k+ ) ( 1/1 ) | tumblr — ao3

❀ making everybody jealous when they step into my house ( 3k+ ) ( 1/1 ) | tumblr

❀ commoner!kirishima | one — two

❀ vampire!kirishima | one

❀ will's drunk dad!kirishima thoughts

❀ ex boyfriend!kirishima

❀ assistant!reader

❀ pirate!kirishima

❀ if he's a serial killer... ( 25.6k+ ) ( 4/? ) | tumblr — ao3

❀ pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name ( 32.6k+ ) ( 3/? ) | tumblr — ao3

❀ i'm melting in your eyes... ( 12.8k+ ) ( 1/2 ) | tumblr — ao3

❀ post war arc touya

❀ cowboy!touya | one

❀ band au!dabi

❀ dad!dabi | ( canon-verse ) — ( modern au )

the day of the opening, you text izuku thirteen times.

most of which are met exactly how you'd hoped, in a way that should settle the nerves steadily brewing in your gut:

izuku: i will be there @ 7pm sharp!! ( =＾ω＾)

izuku: did you finish your speech yet?? we can go over it in the car otw!!

izuku: i'm going to grab flowers??? (///∇///) idk if that's okay?? but it's a big night!!! i think you deserve them!!!!

you should be relieved at his excitement, appeased enough to know that he has plans, that he's looking forward to this, too. genuine promise threads his words—and yet you only feel the pinpricks of doubt.

when he doesn't show, you try not to take it to heart. it's not his fault, you tell yourself, angry that you're angry. the life of a pro-hero is a whirlwind, and after knowing izuku for so long, one would think you'd become accustomed to the sound of his voice-mail and the rain check any and all events are given.

maybe it hurts so much worse this time because he didn't show up and he didn't call. didn't answer, either.

maybe it hurts because you're standing in front of the vision of all might in acrylics, your painting style soaking through the canvas; alive in his creases and curves. despite the fact that this is your first time in a gallery opening, ever, you think you were more looking forward to izuku's enthusiasm, than having your face in the local paper.

your smile feels tight across your mouth, as thick and forced as all might's. you hope it doesn't show through either of you on camera.

what would you say your biggest motivator is?

you take a long pause before answering, reminding yourself to rid your speech of any unplanned uh's and um's, and when what you've recited slips off your tongue, you can hear the words crashing into the hardwood below. shattering.

"the truth is that i wouldn't be here without the support of my best friend—"

(in the movies, this is when izuku would come bursting through the gallery doors, sweaty and disheveled in a suit jacket too large for his shoulders despite how broad they've become. people would be awed by the sight of him, glittering in the remnants of his emerald lightning, and he would turn to find you across the floor and he'd smile sheepishly, apologetically, and say—)

"the parking y've got here is shit."

but it's not izuku. it's bakugou.

it's impossible to have grown up with one and not the other, but—where izuku was quirkless—you were a girl, and that made you even more detestable. you weren't invited to any of his sleepovers or birthday parties at the arcade, and his nose always wrinkled at the sight of you and your pink butterfly clips, the dresses your mother loved to doll you up in.

even now, you see him and a strike of fear jolts your heart, instinctive, after watching the beat-down your best friend endured for so long. the only thing that softens him in this moment, for the first time, is the black, mock turtleneck he's wearing, and the bouquet of pale red carnations in his hand.

immediately, the interested party in front of your exhibition is stolen by him, dynamight, though his face twists hideously as they make to crowd him. you know that look, all too well, and you steel yourself for the bite of his words as he snaps at them.

"alright, alright, get the fuck outta my face before i blast all this frilly art shit to hell."

your anger spikes, fed by his own, though you can feel yourself shrinking behind the red-hot look he gives you, snuffed out as quickly as you'd caught ablaze. why, you wonder, why of all people would it have to be him? if this is izuku's way of apologizing, you'd rather have struggled through the event alone.

he stomps when he walks, like an overgrown child, and when he comes to stand in front of you and your small display, he doesn't even offer the flowers he's holding. instead he considers your work with a frown, eyes darting to and fro without so much as an inkling of enthusiasm. and then he takes in you, too—the soft cotton sweater you're wearing, the way you cup the sleeves with your fingers—with just as much disinterest.

and then he says, "thought you were s'pposed to have five pieces."

you were, but you and your nerves pushed your final painting to the last minute, and then you couldn't get any of the colors right, nor the movement. it was choppy and ugly and you hated it—and so you'd just gone without.

but you're not going to tell him that.

"what are you doing here?"

again, his face twists, as if he's sucking on a lemon. "doesn't exactly sound like a 'thank you', for showing up to your—whatever the hell it is."

"it's an art show, don't act dumb," you frown as he sucks his teeth and turn your stare to the flowers, how they're already wilting. petals drooping. your eyes sting as you look back up at him. "where's—"

"the hell do you think?"

it's not his fault, you tell yourself—but your anger has gone, blown out with the wind. the loneliness that always comes after letdowns like these joins you, faithful in its ache. you wrap your arms around yourself and step back further from him, forcing yourself to look away, at the other artists, so that maybe he won't see the gloss in your eyes.

it surprises you, what he says next: "...shitty nerd would be here if he could."

"i know," you say, defensive suddenly, like you always are with him when it comes to izuku. the bite in your tone deepens his frown and he, too, eyes the flowers. he holds them up wordlessly, handing them off to you with more care than you could have ever expected from him. "thank you for bringing these," you murmur.

bakugou shrugs, shoulders hiking up in a way that is as foreign to you as the light pink dust settling over his cheekbones. "don't know shit about flowers, so. whatever. congrats, i guess."

you frown again, brow crinkling. "but—izuku knows, doesn't he? he told you what to get, right?"

"what?" bakugou's nose twists, suddenly seven years old and offended by your proximity. "ain't talked to the fucker all night, just heard the call over the radio 'fore i left."

"wait, what?" you blink and take a step towards him, without thinking, and the action has him rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. cheeks darker, you think, in the low ambient light. "how—did you know to come then?"

and when he looks back at you, eyes molten and metallic, you think it's maybe not offense in his stare, but something else you've never seen on him. "nerd's been talkin' about it all week." he shrugs, and what he says next feels like an answer to more than just this question, here. "came on my own."

there's this video you've probably seen already where a woman is shaking in front of a microphone and delicately tries to ask - how can i make my husband listen to me, i've tried everything, i don't want to seem ungrateful and the other man laughs - the problem is that you married a man, we're only listening 25% of the time and we only understand 5% of that! and the audience laughs and the woman laughs and you just sat there, phone in your hand, letting the sound of it echo

and the thing is that people make think-pieces about it (isn't this one of them) and satire versions and "flipping the script" which is good and fun but at the end of the day, there's some truth in that man's response about men-not-listening. and you have tried to language that feeling for years, this sense that you can only take up 33% of a conversation before others view it as being "dominating".

it's not that they aren't listening, it's that the action they're taking is purposefully silencing. it's different. you accidentally-don't-listen a lot; just because the world is loud and you're distracted. you don't mean anything by it. and the truth is that the man who spoke is relying on that to be true of you; the way it's true of everyone. but there is a different undertone to his kind of not-listening. what he means is they don't respect you and you shouldn't expect them to. there is a difference between oh shit i forgot to take the trash out and why didn't you remind me to do it, just like there is a difference between i didn't realize you wanted to go out this weekend and why do you expect me to plan things why can't you just tell me where we're going.

and the thing is that it isn't just him, and it's actually not just because of your gender - your skin, your class status, your weight, their ableism - it happens often. so often it feels like a tightness around your throat and a weight in your stomach. you're not even "really" allowed to be upset about it, because to them it's a joke. and they laugh. and you know exactly the amount of work that goes into every conversation. how you have to work to condense down your thoughts into intelligent, crisp soundbites; worried someone will try to swoop in and cut you off. and there's this sense from everyone else - oh stop being so sensitive, are you really upset just because they weren't listening and you don't know how to say the way that feels when it happens constantly.

there's that video of the science summit where a woman in the audience finally says let her speak please! and the whole crowd bursts into applause and the man leading the summit holds up his hands and bows his head and says oops, sorry! like what he did was awkward and embarrassing, a little social gaffe that happens easily. later in your meetings, you're asked to take notes, and you don't say anything, you just hear let her speak please! ringing in your head and know that you'll never be brave enough for that kind of thing. and besides. think of all the people who agree this was a one-off, he just got excited and all of the people who say one man is not indicative of all of society

at the dinner table you're talking about someone you don't like and how he's not good to his girlfriend and how she always has to remind him to put the effort in and before him, she was glowing with curiosity and passion but now she just seems... tired, unhappy. that he likes the way she burns out; she stays home and takes care of him and their 2 kids. and your father sniffs and says that men take a while to learn those kinds of things. and you just stare at him and think about your childhood and are like - no wonder i turned out like this

and you want to say - there's no fucking secret school or mystic form of communication. i was not sent to Rearing a Child University. i did not graduate from Getting Chores Done College. i ask questions and i listen and i pay attention, because that's basic fucking human decency. it stems from respect, and how i respect others and their agency. i clean the house because someone should clean. not because it comes "naturally".

hell, you had to google "how to boil an egg" the other day, just because you usually make them scrambled. you can never remember which of the 2 bathroom cleaners make chlorine gas, only that two of them definitely do. you've accidentally bleached your clothes. it took you like 3 years of self-teaching before you figured out how to actually cook things correctly - for that whole time, you burnt or undercooked everything. but you did teach yourself; just like you taught yourself how to listen with empathy. just like how you taught yourself to think before you speak. to be kind first, to be better at communicating. it seemed like a good thing, an adult thing.

the joke the man in the video makes is that women say i'm fine! when they are not fine. and you think about the 150 conversations that happened around that; about how she probably has had so many arguments with her husband. how she said i'm upset you don't take me anywhere and he got mad at her because of course i do, you made me go to that stupid restaurant like last week and she probably said that's not what i'm saying and he said now i'm supposed to be psychic or something and she said no of course not and he said how am i supposed to know what to do when you don't even like everything and she said i do like things and he said well how am i supposed to win? and her pastor probably told her to be more grateful because they do things at all, even if she has to plan them and her mom probably told her that's just how men are honey and she probably cried over her journal, trying to figure out why the fuck she "has everything" and is still so bitterly, horribly unhappy

and how, in your life, for so many reasons, you looked down the barrel of another argument; of explaining yourself and being vulnerable and begging for help again. how many times you just said i'm fine because it was better than doing that again; it was better than wringing yourself out when it's literally easier to just pretend. because he wasn't going to listen. your father wasn't going to be better and your boyfriend wasn't going to be better and your boss wasn't going to be more respectful.

and you sit in front of a video of a woman shaking, looking horrible and guilt-wrought that she's even asking this question. and you know; deep in your heart - that's you. in a different life, you are her. you've stood in her spot. and you had to listen while someone else cackled - why would we bother to notice when you talk?

Recognizing emotionally mature people

Taken from Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents by Lindsay C. Gibson, Psy.D. A summary of the tips the book hands you on how to recognize emotionally healthy people.

They’re realistic and reliable

They work with reality rather than fighting it. They see problems and try to fix them, instead of overreacting with a fixation on how things should be.

They can feel and think at the same time. The ability to think even when upset makes an emotionally mature person someone you can reason with. They don’t lose their ability to see another perspective just because they aren’t getting what they want.

Their consistency makes them reliable. Because they have an integrated sense of self, they usually won’t surprise you with unexpected inconsistencies.

They don’t take everything personally. They can laugh at themselves and their foibles. They’re realistic enough to not feel unloved just because you made a mistake.

They’re respectful and reciprocal

They respect your boundaries. They’re looking for connection and closeness, not intrusion, control or enmeshment. They respect your individuality and that others have the final say on what their motivations are. They may tell you how they feel about what you did, but they don’t pretend to know you better than you know yourself.

They give back. They don’t like taking advantage of people, nor do they like the feeling of being used.

They are flexible and compromise well. Because collaborative, mature people don’t have an agenda to win at all costs, you won’t feel like you’re being taken advantage of. Compromise doesn’t mean mutual sacrifice; it means a mutual balancing of desires. They care about how you feel and don’t want to leave you feeling unsatisfied.

They’re even-tempered. They don’t sulk or pout for long periods of time or make you walk on eggshells. When angered, they will usually tell you what’s wrong and ask you to do things differently. They’re willing to take the initiative to bring conflict to a close.

They are willing to be influenced. They don’t feel threatened when other people see things differently, nor are they afraid of seeming weak if they don’t know something. They may not agree, but they’ll try to understand your point of view.

They’re truthful. They understand why you’re upset if they lie or give you a false impression.

They apologize and make amends. They want to be responsible for their own behavior and are willing to apologize when needed.

They’re responsive

Their empathy makes you feel safe. Along with self-awareness, empathy is the soul of emotional intelligence.

They make you feel seen and understood. Their behavior reflects their desire to really get to know you, rather than looking for you to mirror them. They aren’t afraid of your emotions and don’t tell you that you should be feeling some other way.

They like to comfort and be comforted. They are sympathetic and know how crucial friendly support can be.

They reflect on their actions and try to change. They clearly understand how people affect each other emotionally. They take you seriously if you tell them about a behavior of theirs that makes you uncomfortable. They’ll remain aware of the issue and demonstrate follow-through in their attempts to change.

They can laugh and be playful. Laughter is a form of egalitarian play between people and reflects an ability to relinquish control and follow someone else’s lead.

They’re enjoyable to be around. They aren’t always happy, but for the most part they seem able to generate their own good feelings and enjoy life.

–  © Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents, Lindsay C. Gibson, Psy.D.

Madame of the Skeleton Mansion V2.

His Muse

Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader Warnings: Yandere Bakugou, Obsessive Tendencies, psychoanalyst therapist reader, smut, extremely dubious consent, stalking, kindapping (tagging to be safe), cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampies, kitchen sex, strength kink, threats of violence (not to reader). please let me know if I missed anything! Word Count: 6.5k Notes: this isn't a more violent yandere fic, and has lots of bargaining and dub con, just as a warning!! but I can't believe I came up with this idea in November omg I move so slow when it comes to full fics. also I tried gradient style for the title and I love it lol it was so fun to try. anyway, please enjoy!! Minors/blank/ageless blogs DNI! Also available on ao3!

When Bakugou comes to you to be his therapist, you don’t think twice about it. He filled out his application correctly, he answered when you called, his insurance went through, his problems sounded legit. You had become wary taking on new patients in your field—dealing with criminals, those with hardened and extensive records, people with all kinds of issues that an everyday therapist wouldn’t be able to handle accordingly. But you did it all (someone had to), so your vetting process was a little heavier than usual, if the therapy wasn’t state mandated. 

But Bakugou Katsuki passed with flying colors. If anything, he sounded a little too normal for your line of work, but he kept promising that his issues would be better discussed during sessions. With a little hesitance, you agree and take him on. 

He’s…okay, for the most part. A little gruff, rough around the edges and snappy when you try to touch on certain topics of his life. But in general, he’s a great patient; he pays on time, shows up five minutes early, doesn’t linger when your next patient comes buzzing, doesn’t try to touch you or seek out personal information from you. 

If anything, he still seems a bit too strait-laced for you. That is, until he starts to delve into why he really wants to come to therapy—to deal with his tendencies of rage, lashing out, and obsession. You had told him that you didn’t deal much with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, but he had assured you that, no, his obsessions and compulsions weren’t about checking the locks a certain amount of times on a Wednesday, but instead about people. 

He obsessed over people, and when things wouldn’t go his way, his rage would rear its ugly head. He still hasn’t told you what his rage specifically looks like, especially with how he momentarily glances over at your little message pinned on your wall that warns people about admitting criminal acts that you’d have to report, damn the confidentiality. 

“When did these obsessions start?” You ask him, body tilted toward him even though your eyes and hands move to your open computer. You document what he says, take note of it all, skimming over previous notes from other appointments. 

“Maybe about eighteen months ago?” Bakugou’s voice is gravelly, deep and grating against the column of his throat. As he answers, he shoves his hands in his sweats pockets, scoots down a little further on your adjacent couch, looks around the room as if he hadn’t been in here a few times before. 

“So this is a more recent development?” You ask, humming under your breath and nodding when he grunts an affirmation. You type, obsessive tendencies over people started less than two years ago, could be trauma based, and you wonder if he can read the words through the reflection of your glasses when you look over to see his eyebrows screwed down. 

“Was it sudden for you?” You cock your head to the side, before shaking your head. “Let me rephrase; did these tendencies ever show their faces in other aspects of your life? Different time periods, situations? Or was it just a sudden thing that happened, something you realized once the obsession had already begun?” He starts nodding his head before you can even finish, his ash blond bangs shadowing his eyes for a second in such a way that sends a prickle of chills up your arms. You don’t know why, so you try to swallow the feeling down until it burns at the back of your throat, shifting a little in your cushioned seat. Bakugou watches you for a second before he opens his mouth to speak. 

“It was sudden.” He answers, plainly, doesn’t offer up much else until you cock an eyebrow at him, signaling for him to go on. He rolls his eyes and huffs under his breath, shifting again before he shrugs dramatically with his hands still in his pockets. 

“I dunno, I was fuckin’ normal until I wasn’t.” You chuckle a little at his tone, crossing your legs under the desk, watching how Bakugou’s vermillion eyes dart down to catch the sight of them, before they slide back up to your face. 

“You’ve been in a relationship before?” You state more than ask, eyebrows slid high on your face in question, watching Bakugou roll his eyes a little before he nods. 

“Yeah.” He offers, his mouth set in a thin line, obviously not wanting to offer up too much information on the topic. 

“How many?” You push. How the hell does he expect you to help him when he keeps giving you short answers, nothing to work with? Why even seek out your help if he acts like being here is such a nuisance to deal with?

“Two.” Bakugou says through gritted teeth, eyes cutting at the decorations you have hung on the walls. “What does this have to do with anything, anyway?” He spits, cuts his eyes at you once more as you narrow your own at him. 

“I’m trying to find a connection between your sudden obsessive tendencies with your relationships with people in the world.” You clarify for him, sitting up a little in your seat as his own irritation bubbling off of him starts to sink into your pores, too. 

“People rarely have sudden personality flips and switches with no leading causes beforehand. Did these tendencies start because of preexisting mommy issues that were suddenly uncovered after being repressed for years? Were you in a long and committed relationship, which ended in such a way that it wasn’t necessarily on your terms, even if it was ultimately your own call? Was it an accident you were in? Have you always been like this and never realized it? Do you understand what I’m saying, Katsuki?” 

…

Bakugou isn’t taking in a single word that you’re telling him. He wishes he could; he’s sure you’re saying some real shit that he should most likely take into consideration. But its so hard to focus when you look at him like that, when your neck rolls a little with every word, when your foot bounces under the desk, the way your lips curve just so. 

You’re the reason he’s even here right now. The bane of his fuckin’ existence, but also the  only thing that matters to him in the world. 

You are his obsession. His muse, his fantasy, his daydream turned reality. And it’s all your fucking fault. With how you prance around your home with your curtains open, wearing nothing but slutty little shirts and no bra, no pants, just panties that sink into the curves of your ass and thighs. How you just go about your life without a care in the fucking world, always so oblivious to everything around you. 

You hadn’t even noticed him, the months he spent watching over you. Didn’t catch his lingering stares, or how his ash blond head of hair always seemed to be at least ten feet behind you with every step you took. How your long time neighbor from across the hall suddenly disappeared, how a new tenant moved in when he knew you’d be out. How you forget entirely too often to lock your door, to put your used panties in the hamper. How you tease him with everything, how you’ve been fucking leading him on for over a year and a half now. 

So, he had to get desperate. Had to search you up and find what qualifications he needed in order to be seen by you, a psychoanalytical therapist for those who want to be reformed. 

But Bakugou had no plans on reformation. There was nothing for him to be reformed on. He just wanted you, and goddamnit, if he wasn’t going to have you. 

“I understand you, doc. Loud and clear.”

***

It was your day off, and you had plans on spending it in your bed, catching up on some reading and maybe finishing that one show you started a while ago. But, lunch time came around, and you were craving something specific and didn’t have all the ingredients that you needed. You figured you could go out to the grocery store to grab them, get some fresh air on the way there, and maybe stop at that book shop you had been eyeing for a while. 

You get ready quickly, closing your front door behind you, pausing for a second to stare at the door across the hall. You still can’t believe Ms. Hayashi had so suddenly moved out, especially after living in this complex since it was first built. She hadn’t even said goodbye, and you never got the chance to return the Tupperware she lended you. 

It wouldn’t have been as weird if someone hadn’t supposedly moved in the next day. You were a gossip with your landlord, a nice older lady, and she gave you all up the updates on the people who lived in the complex. She had said that he was a nice guy, kind of scary and intimating in stature, but respectful the whole time. Said that he didn’t even look at the apartment before giving her the first six months rent and despot in cash. She told you to ever call her if you smelled meth cooking from that apartment, as no one who works a regular job just has that kind of money laying around. 

You shrug to yourself, coming to the conclusion that maybe the new owner just needed to get out of town, away from somewhere or someone else. Everyone has their reasonings, and you can’t analyze every single move someone you haven’t even met before has ever made. 

You continue down the steps until you’re out of the building, unaware of the crimson eyes that follow your every movement. The walk to the store is a little longer than you’d like for it to be, but you figure that the exercise can do you some justice, and it’s always nice being out in nature. You stop and pick a flower that grows from a crack in the sidewalk, twirling it in your finger the whole way to the store, finally tucking it behind your ear when you have to grab a grocery cart. 

And still—and still—you don’t see the eyes that watch you. The figure that follows your every move, that disappears behind walls and aisles every time you turn your back. You feel it though, he can tell, because you move a little quicker and look over your shoulder more than usual. 

You go to the self checkout, trying to hurry now, as an uneasy feeling starts to wash over you. You get these often, especially working in the field that you do with the patients that you choose to take on—hardened criminals, fresh out of jail and still ready to harm society, people that just like to see the world burn for the fun of it. 

The therapist is typically one of the first few people to be taken out, after parents. You’re always too high on the list for your liking, despite loving your job. 

You keep trying to scan an item, but it’s not working, and that only makes your panic settle in deeper into your bones. You try to remember the techniques that you give people when they start to feel overwhelmed by their emotions and what goes on in their heads, but its hard when that sinking feeling only grows deeper and heavier by the moment until—

“Need some help with that?” You jump away quickly, eyes wide as you hold up the can of soup you were gripping tightly like a weapon. You let out a breath though, only in slight relief, to see that its one of your patients standing beside you—Bakugou Katsuki. He looks different than he usually does in your sessions together; he’s wearing a tight compression shirt that hugs his wide shoulders, navy blue in color, sweatpants that wrap around the thick muscles in his thighs, and plain running shoes. 

For some reason though, the panic in your stomach doesn’t fully quell at the sight of him. 

“No, I got it. Thanks though, Bakugou.” You tell him politely, smiling shakily. Why does the sight of him unnerve you so bad? You’ve run into patients before on the street, and they never make you feel like this, this uneasy, even when it was dark and you were dressed more scantily than you are now, with your baggy pants and too big shirt. 

“You sure?” He grunts, cocking his head at you as he gently pries the can from your still tight grip. “I watched you struggle with it for like, two minutes. Let me.” He tells you, never taking his eyes off of you as he scans your item easily enough. He only looks away when he bags it for you, and starts to scan the rest of your things as if you weren’t standing there. 

“Oh no, it’s okay, I can finish that myself.” You wave him off him with a shaky smile, finally breaking out of your stupor when he’s damn near finished. You reach out to stop him, but Bakugou only waves you away with a grunt. 

“’S alright. It’s the least I can do for you helping me figure my crazy out.” Bakugou shrugs at you, a joke you’re presuming, as he glances over at you with a tiny lilt at the corner of his mouth. It calms you, only for a second, before something ever so slightly changes in his eyes, in the way he looks at you and takes you in, makes you feel like something sinister is sinking deep into your bones. Your stomach tightens again, and you have to force a smile when he finishes, before it drops when you see him reaching for his wallet. 

“Oh, I really can’t let you pay for my groceries.” You tell him, stepping up to him before pausing when he looks at you out of the corner of his eye with an expression so terrifying, that it makes stone drop into the pit of your belly. 

“Let me.” Bakugou tells you more than asks you, and you nod slowly, swallowing the thickness that has settled into the back of your throat. You can only watch as he pulls out a wad of cash, counting through it before inserting it into the machine, mouth set in a thin line all the while. You try to take him in, figure out where his own groceries are to be in this section, where all this money is coming from, if his address that he put on the file is even anywhere near this area. 

It’s not. 

“Cmon.” Bakugou snaps you out of your trance, big veiny hands holding all of your groceries as he nods his head to the exit. You’re stuck there, wondering if this is really happening, if these are just boundaries being crossed or a crime about to be committed. You feel tears stinging at your eyes as you try to blink them away, hiccuping slightly as you slowly shake your head. 

“Please give me my groceries, Bakugou.” You don’t even recognize your own voice, soft and shaky and purely terrified. Bakugou fixes you with another deadly expression but this time—this time he smiles at you, and its everything but friendly. All big white teeth and too sharp incisors, all falsely charming and all weaponry, all threat with no escape from his drooling maw. 

“I think we should go home, now. Don’t you?” He asks you with a cock of his head, body still turned to the exit, his stature eery with how the veins in his neck throb with every second you stay rooted in your spot. “Before something happens to these nice people in here, right? Before they have to bear witness to a massacre, all because you don’t want to walk home with me.”

You have to bite back your sob that bubbles up in your throat. You’re terrified of what will happen to you, but you’re a caretaker first. You have to put yourself before these people, put yourself before the monster that wants you as a sacrifice before he burns an entire village down for you. 

So you nod, and take the hand offered to you as he switches the groceries to one hand, just to squeeze yours in the other. 

You leave out of the grocery store with tears muddled in your eyes, a quivering chin that you try to conceal, hope no one wants to be a hero and find themselves hurt, or worse, because you can’t school your expressions. 

This was taught in a psychology course you took in college, you remember. One of your classes after you started working on your highest degree—what to do in real life situations as a psychologist. How to avoid more conflict when a patient is erratic. How to deescalate. How to survive. 

Everything you’ve ever learned has gone out the window now. 

You and Bakugou walk down the street hand in hand, looking like a normal couple for the most part, besides your trembling jaw and shaky steps. You glance up to him, watching him squint in the sunlight before he glances down at you, squeezing your hand gently, as if to comfort you, as if he weren’t the cause of your panic. You notice that he’s walking right in the direction of your apartment, as if the route were memorized. 

“How do you know where I live?” You ask shakily, mouth full of cotton as Bakugou keeps his head forward, grinning. He glances at you again, eyes bouncing between the delicate flower tucked behind your ear, and the terrified expression your eyes carry. 

“I should be asking you the same thing.” He shrugs nonchalantly, doesn’t offer up anymore information until you stand outside of your building. “You know, for you to be a therapist to fuckin’ weirdos, you don’t watch your back good enough for my liking.” 

You didn’t think your stomach could sink any lower, but it does. It does when the realization settles, when his words kick in—that he’s been watching you, but for how long? How could you not have noticed? Did he even contact you because he needed help, or was this only a way to grow closer to you, to his obsession?

Before you know it, Bakugou has walked you up the stairs until you reached your floor. Your body turns to instinctively to your door, but you’re pulled in the other direction. 

“Wha—” you go to ask Bakugou, before you notice he’s set your groceries down to fiddle with the key to…to the apartment across the hall from you. You feel the tears flood again, letting them flow this time since no one is around to try and save you and put themselves in harms way anymore. 

“It’s been you? This whole time?” You ask slowly, starting to pull away when Bakugou opens the door to Ms. Hayashi’s apartment, still decorated the same before she mysteriously disappeared—you don’t think its so mysterious anymore.

“Of course it’s been me.” Bakugou scoffs as he grips your hand tighter, pulling you closer until you near the doorway. “I had to watch  over you—do you know how careless you are with everything? With your life?” He snarls, whirling around on you when you plant your feet and try to keep him from pulling you into his lions den. Bakugou is all snarls and teeth, invokes such a deep fear within you that you can’t help but shrink under his gaze. 

“Now come on. I’ve been waiting for this for entirely too long.” His voice is downright salacious, eyes turning sharp and hungry, and in a way that makes you feel like nothing more than hunted prey. 

Bakugou damn near drags you within the apartment, despite your whimpering and pulling at him—he’s just too strong. He walks you a few feet inside before he dumps the groceries on a coffee table, finally letting go of your hand so that he can lock the door, emerging a key from his sweatpants pocket to one of the many, many locks, an insurance policy of you never leaving him unless he allows it. 

You try to put on your therapist boots for a minute, swallowing your fear as you try to reason with him, swallowing thickly when he turns around and takes your trembling form in. 

“Bakugou,” you start shakily, “this doesn’t have to end bad for us. You can just let me go, and we can pretend this never happened. I won’t report you, or anything. Please, please, PLEASE!” 

He comes rushing at you before you know it, on you in seconds, despite trying to turn and outrun him before he pounces. But it’s too late and he’s too big and too overwhelming, and he grabs you up in his arms, shushing your screaming with his mouth pressed against yours. 

So this is what he wants, you think to yourself, terrified to say you’re slightly relieved. You’ve worked with men who liked to torture women for fun, and you were scared that he was secretly one of them, but it looks like he just wants—

“You.” Bakugou whispers with a swallow against your mouth, hot and breathy. “I want you so fuckin’ bad, wanted this for so long, fuck.” He’s wrapping you up within him in seconds, arms crushing your ribs, tongue sneaking into your mouth, hands grabbing handfuls of whatever he can reach. 

You’re stunned, mostly. Finally putting the pieces together of everything that is Bakugou, his coming to you about his obsessions, his secrecy despite needing your help, the way he always looked at you, how he devours you now like a mere schoolboy. It all makes sense now. You pull away from him, eyes round and wide as you take in his lowered ones, how he dives back in to nip at your jaw and chin and cheek. 

“I’m your obsession.” You whisper shakily, hands on his shoulders, despite them making no moves to move the large man back. Bakugou groans at that, damn near sinks to his knees at your realization, wraps you up even tighter as he buries his face into the skin of your neck. 

“Fuckin’ finally. Thought you would’ve caught on sooner by now, dumbass.” He scolds you, licking up the expanse of your skin as you shiver and try to back away. But Bakugou only holds you tighter, and you whimper at the bulge that nudges your hip. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve—could’ve worked on exposure therapy, had someone there to monitor you for our safety, could’ve—”

“Too much work. I just want you.” Bakugou moans, nipping at your skin, grabbing handfuls of your ass when you squeak. He walks you backwards until your back meets a wall, the breath being knocked out of you as you gasp, eyes wide when he finally pulls away from your skin. 

You’ve never seen him like this, all fucked out and relaxed and even a little excited. Always saw him with a bored or irritated expression, one of indifference. But now, Bakugou looks high on euphoria, with kiss swollen lips and low eyelids as he takes in your still shocked expression. 

“Let me taste you,” Bakugou rushes out in a quick breath, diving in once more to lick at your mouth before he pulls away, big hands squeezing at your waist and ass excitedly. He’s like a dog with a bone, like a pup with no master, waiting for you to give the command, the permission to go. 

You wonder if you have more control of this situation than you originally thought. So you try your hand, see how far you can push before you can wiggle your way out of this entire thing and get the chance to call the police. 

“Bakugou,” you start, quickly being cut off by him with a sharp nip to your chin. 

“Katsuki,” he corrects. You nod. 

“Katsuki, if I—if I let you do this, this one thing of…of tasting me, will you promise to let me go?” You try to reason with him, cupping his cheek when his eyes wander over your form instead of your face, leaning into your touch instinctively. 

“We can,” you pause with a swallow. “I can do this. I can create a therapy plan for you, for your obsession over me, and it can be fully consenting and healthy, but you have to let me help you and let me take control.” You try to reason with Bakugou, hope he understands what you’re saying, that he won’t catch on to this just being a trick. But he only groans and turns his head, sucking your thumb into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut at your gasp before he releases you with a pop. He turns half lidded vermillion eyes to you, frowning as he rests his heavy head in your palm. 

“Whatever you fuckin’ say, just let me taste you, goddamnit.” He mutters petulantly. You can only hold your breath, wonder if what you’re agreeing will hurt you in the long run before you nod. 

“You can—you can taste me, Katsuki.” 

You think you might’ve sealed the deal with a devil, with the way you can practically see horns protruding from his forehead and a tail flickering behind him when he drops to his knees. Bakugou is too quick for your liking, yanks your pants around your ankles too fast, hurries you out of them, rips your underwear away from your skin until it tears and falls limply in a pile on the floor. 

You squeak when his face is suddenly pressed right against your cunt, his nose buried into your pubic hair, the sound of a big sniff echoing throughout the room. You can’t help but cringe, but don’t dare push him away—people need to be exposed to all aspects of things in order to overcome them, even if those things are sniffing what lies between your legs. 

“Fuck, smells so good.” Bakugou grunts under his breath, huffing a few times before he forces your legs further apart until you can accommodate the wide expanse of his shoulders. You grunt from the stretch, trying to make yourself comfortable, but Bakugou picks up on it quickly, and grabs your knee to hike your leg over his shoulder to rest on. 

It creates a better angle for him anyway, with your lips glistening with your arousal—you were aroused. Turned on by him just as much as he was with you. You were wet, even if it’s not as much as he would prefer, as he would get you to that amount in only a matter of time. 

You throbbed when his tongue traced the hood of your clit, of your lips, your folds. You twitch hard against his mouth when he keeps licking and licking at you, until your slickness and his spit mingle and he doesn’t know where you end and where he begins. Until it makes a mess of his mouth and chin and the floor below him, and you, with your pretty moans and grabbing hands. 

Bakugou has waited for this moment longer than he can really care to remember, at this point in time. Waited to worship you on his knees, be able to look up from between your soft thighs and see the scrunch of your brows when he sucks your clit between his lips and runs over it with the flatness of his tongue. 

It’s an addictive feeling, really. Makes him feel higher than any drug could ever take him, makes his eyes roll back and his cock throb so hard that he has to grab it from beneath his sweats to keep from busting his load already. 

You can only stand there and take it—take the incessant licking around your hole, and the dipping of his tongue inside of you, and the sweet little kisses he plants on your clit. You try to reason with yourself, convince yourself that this is an improvised session with a client that needed your help so badly that you decided to take him on your day off. Try to tell yourself that this is all apart of the therapy that he needs in order to get over you. 

You only hope that the taste of you doesn’t become so addictive, that your plans for him will go flying out the window the moment you try to reason with him. 

But its hard to reason even with yourself when Bakugou is sliding a thick, middled finger inside of your dripping hole as he noisily sucks your clit between his lips. You cry out at that, knees wobbling, but he’s there to catch you with his free hand, his shoulder. Holds you up steady like a pillar as he lashes his tongue against you, twists his finger, curves it slowly, before he’s adding another one before you can even register what’s happening to you. 

“Shit, Katsuki,” you moan out, cursing yourself for letting him make you feel so good, for getting so wrapped up in this ‘therapy’. You can only hope that the board doesn’t take your license if they were to ever find out about it. 

“Thats it, baby, ride my fingers just like that.” Bakugou breaks you out of your trance with his groan. You hadn’t even realize how your hips were moving against him, grinding down on his digits that curl up inside of you, that slide against that swelling spot that makes your knees weak and your eyes cross.

“Gods, you’re so fuckin’ sexy.” Bakugou whispers against your mound, trailing spit from his mouth down to your clit once more, eyes never leaving the pleasured look on your face. 

Did you know he imagined this, in damn near every session he’s ever had with you? While it wasn’t plenty of sessions (he had only started seeing you about six months ago), it was all he could think of. Every Tuesday at 2:45pm, in office number 218, first door on the right, the mint green office—all he could think of was you. Even when you asked him questions with a professional and friendly smile, even when you were covered head to toe, even when you ripped him a new one for his shitty answers and responses. 

This was all he wanted, all he craved to see. The way your mouth dropped open when he starts damn near directing you in how he wants you to ride his fingers. How your hips move and swivel and tremble when he keeps bringing his fingers close to his face, inside of you. How you grip so tightly at his hair and pull when he won’t stop sucking and licking and messily kissing your clit. How he damn near makes out with your hole, tongue drooling and smacking against your soaked skin until he feels himself about to burst in his pants. 

This was all he wanted, and Bakugou always gets what he wants. Even if its you—especially if it’s you. 

“I’m—oh, I think I’m—shit!” Your brain is damn near fried when you start to orgasm, an earth shattering moan slipping from your throat as you throw your head back, hips bucking against Bakugou’s face and hands. He has to hold your entire body up steadily, fears that you may fall from how hard you’re coming, how you shake in his arms. 

His fingers are steady inside of you, and only slows when you start to finally come down from your high. Bakugou kisses the inside of your thigh sweetly, nibbles at it when you groan and complain about feeling too weak from the intensity. But that’s not a problem for him at all. 

“Hey—what are you—” Bakugou cuts you off with a wet kiss pressed to your mouth when he stands to his full height. His tongue slides against yours and you can’t help but moan when you taste yourself on him. He doesn’t give you a chance to step away and try to slink back to your own apartment, instead hoisting you up quickly in his arms as he starts to walk to a room behind you. 

Before you can protest, you’ve been dumped on the kitchen table, Bakugou pressing you down with a hand to your sternum when you try to sit up, shooting you another one of those eery looks from earlier. You still instantly, before slowly lowering yourself back down on the table, eyes wide again when he levels you with a stare for a beat longer before he steps back to yank his shirt over his head. 

“I thought,” you mumble, trying not to stare at how well built Bakugou is, how his biceps might literally be bigger than your entire head. “I thought that we agreed for you to only, um, taste me, and then you’d stop.” Its hard finding your voice when Bakugou stares at you like that again, not scarily, but hungry like before. Hard to fight back and push him away when he grabs your shirt in two hands and rips and pulls until your torso is exposed, like the fabric meant nothing to him. 

You clench your thighs at the display of strength and hope that he doesn’t notice. (He does). 

Bakugou shrugs at you, pulls your bra down until your tits are on display, grabbing a handful of each and massaging them in warm, sweaty palms. He ducks his head down and gives a sweet kiss to both of your nipples, licking one crudely before he stands back up to his full height, your breasts still in his hands. You think he must’ve forgotten what you said, or simply didn’t care to answer, but he surprises you when he squeezes your tits tightly and speaks, 

“Think I need a little more exposure before I have to be reduced to doses only, doc.” Is all Bakugou gives you, squeezing your chest one last time before he pulls away. You try not to show the panic on your face when he reaches to pull his sweats down until they bunch around his corded thighs, cock damn near bursting from its confinements. 

Bakugou reaches inside of his boxers, biting at his bottom lip when he touches it directly for the first time since he’s gotten you, groans a little at your gasp when he fully exposes himself. He’s thick, curved a little to the side, his head a dark flushed color, a fat vein forking up the side of his shaft. He rests his cock over you, makes a soft little noise in the back of his throat when the precum slides from his tip and pools in the dip of your bellybutton. 

“Shit, I love you so fuckin’ much,” Bakugou mutters under his breath as he positions himself at your entrance. Your eyes bulge at his confession, but before you can even touch on what he’s said, he’s already sliding his way inside of you. 

Your head falls against the kitchen table, the dull pain quiet compared to the overwhelming pleasure that settles low in your pelvis. You groan, thighs hooked around Bakugou’s waist as he fucks his way inside of you, a moan on his tongue as he watches the way your lips split and suck him inside so, so sweetly. 

“Sorry, sweetheart, but I can’t wait anymore,” Bakugou mutters against your mouth. As he soon as he settles inside of you, he’s pulling out until his tip kisses your entrance, before he fucks his way back in. You shudder, his cock warm and heavy inside of you, his tip brushing against your sweet spot with every stroke until you start to cling to him and ask for more, more, more. 

And Bakugou gives it to you, with feral growls, hiking your legs up higher until they rest on his shoulders, hunching over you with every wet slap of his balls against your ass. The position forces him even deeper, makes your feet dangle entirely too close to your face, Bakugou leaning over to kiss you sweetly on the ankle. 

“So, fuck, what’s the diagnosis, doc?” Bakugou taunts you, grinning down at you when you blink bleary eyes up at him. He’s sweaty and golden and has a halo of light behind his ash blond hair from the overhead light. He’s prettier than you want to admit, but its hard trying to keep a face of professionalism when his cock keeps kissing your sweet spot and his chest pressed against yours makes your nipples harder than rocks. 

“Huh? What happened to that fucking smart ass that would lecture me in our sessions?” He teases, smile wide and feral as he holds your cheeks tightly between his thick fingers. He forces your mouth into a pout, kissing it, when you blabber nonsense up at him. 

“Fucked you dumb already? All those years of college right out the door, huh, baby?” Bakugou’s so mean, makes you whine and claw at his shoulders and nape. You could answer him, give him your professional opinion—not like you even had one in the first place—but he makes it so hard to think. When his cock is balls deep inside of you, when he looks at you with his teasing and yet adoring little grin, when he keeps shaking your face at him with a taunting coo, when he sneaks a hand between your bodies to circle your clit. 

“It’s okay; I can think for you. You don’t have to use that pretty little head even once when you’re with me.” Bakugou’s coos sweetly, reaches down and pecks your forehead and mouth when you whimper pathetically up at him with teary eyes. 

“Gonna cum? Yeah?” He asks you, hips never faltering as he fucks you into the table, his mouth pressed against yours as you grab him tightly, feeling the oncoming orgasm starting to flood your system. 

“Yeah,” you whine softly against his mouth through your puckered lips, making Bakugou groan as he fucks you through your orgasm. You tighten up around him so deliciously, sound so pretty with your fucked out moans and hoarse voice, look so gorgeous all high out of your mind and pliant on his kitchen counter. 

How could he ever remember to pull out?

You try to protest when Bakugou holds you tight and starts to cum inside of you, but your complaints fall on deaf ears. He only holds you tighter against him, groaning loud in the skin of your neck as his cock spurts his hot seed deep inside of you. When he finishes, he collapses on top of you, breathy and sweaty, and you’re in no better position. Its quiet for a while, despite your legs and back aching, and the cooling feeling of his cum starting to spill from around his softening cock still buried inside of you. 

“So,” Bakugou starts, and you’re almost fearful of what he might say next. “Can you start scheduling my appointments to your apartment instead of your office now?” 

You’re at least a little thankful that he has plans to let you go back to your life, even if he’s forcing himself to be apart of every little aspect of it. You nod tiredly, wondering how and if you’re going to tell your boss. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” 

had a short break

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Bakugou + outfits

sometimes i forget how reading is just. marvelous. just an absolutely fucking endlessly joyful activity. i’ll go about my life and not read one single book for months and be like why am i morose! why am i so apathetic! what is missing here!!!! and try to look for whatever it is that is lacking and never find it anywhere and i get so tired and sad and angry, and then i’m finally like i’m gonna stop everything for a couple days and read a really good book bc i don’t care about anything else. and suddenly i get motivated to work bc i know i’ll read when i’m on break. i get more creative. i want to watercolor again and bust out the shameful fabric stash with all my unfinished sewing projects. god even my dreams get more vivid!! what the fuck! and i’m like here is the magic i was looking for, why did i ever think i was going to find it anywhere else. it was always here!!!

feels so strange coming back to this platform after 8 years but also kinda cozy :)

anyways here’s a pomeranian

กาตุ่ยเด

Chapter Two: Victory

dragon king!bakugou katsuki x reader

Rating: Mature

Tags: violence, blood, dragons, its wartime babes so people might get booboos, romance, sexual tension, medieval politics, northern!reader, knight!midoriya

Summary: With the fury of winter on the precipice, and food provisions deathly short, you have no choice but to represent your House and speak with the Dragon King. The only problem is your Houses have been at odds for centuries, and the fearsome Dragon King is not exactly easy to convince... (GoT AU)

Chapter: 2/? (8,179 words)

AO3 Link

Chapter One

Some translations for this chapter: Musouka = "dreamer". Shi no Hikaru = *roughly* translates to "death's light" (I actually got a few things for this one, so if anyone notices a booboo, feel free to let me know lol)

Chapter Two: Victory (4.4k)

“If you’re not willing to fix the sins of your House, by either honor or duty, then you have no right to call yourself a man let alone a king.”

Katsuki watched you walk away, nothing but the sound of your footsteps echoing down the hall. Eyes wide, he willed his mouth to speak, commanded it to. But he couldn't come up with anything. 

All he could feel was this simmering sense of rage.

The doors creaked open slowly, and he saw the tiny dot of you walk through them, gone.

“The hell…?!” Katsuki finally choked out. He turned his anger towards Denki. “You said northern women were frigid!”

“That’s what I was told, Your Grace!” Kaminari squeaked back, holding up his hands in surrender.

Katsuki growled, slamming a fist against the armrest of his throne. Whatever he was told of the North, he had a sinking feeling that none of it was true. Katsuki was told that a northerner's face could've been made out of stone for how little they use it. How they did nothing but hide away in furs and watch snow fall, and melt, and then fall again. How their blood ran like ice, giving them all of the liveliness of a corpse.

All of those comments originated from his castellan.

The dunce face. Katsuki should've known it was horseshit.

Your eyes, full of heat as you preached about duty and honor…

Well, at least that part about northerners was true.

Katsuki launched himself out of his seat, still feeling the afterburn of your words. He placed his sword back in its sheath. It shined as he did so, the golden surface trapping light like a web, waiting for the time to kill. 

Katsuki started for his own exit. "Meeting. Now .”

That was all the King had to say for Lord Kaminari to break away, ordering the guards to track down the rest of the King’s councilmen.

“Your Grace!” 

Like he knew he was being summoned, Sero Hanta approached, giving a small bow. “How did the talk with the lady go?”

Katsuki growled as an answer, refusing to stop in favor of getting to the war room.

“I take it not well…” He heard the man mutter behind him, quickly following along with Denki.

People rushed to bow and curtsy as he passed by, but Katsuki paid them no mind, instead thinking about how he wished his Hand was there. Eijirou would’ve made a good barrier between you two. No doubt Shitty Hair's cheerfulness would've charmed you, and his collective knowledge of North would’ve impressed compared to the empty-headedness of Dunce Face. However, with you arriving earlier than expected, and shit raining down in the dragon caves, a switch had to be made last minute. Which reminded him…

“Any updates on the dragons yet?!” Katsuki barked behind him.

“Lord Kirishima was able to calm them down,” Lord Hanta informed him. “He should be on his way back now.”

“Good,” he grumbled.

Katsuki approached the war room, the two guards standing by immediately opening the doors for him.

The balcony on the opposite end greeted him. He felt his hair move with a nearby breeze as he listened to the clear ocean waves, the pull back of the water and the crash when it came back in, smashing into the deathly sharp rocks that cluttered the shoreline. The pungent smell of smoke carried through, its source coming from the dragon caves that lived just a bit beyond. Fresh sticks of incense were regularly lit around the castle to mask it, but Katsuki always found that, if anything, they just added to it. Sharp smoke intertwined with burnt caramel and fresh jasmine, creating its own brand of scent Katsuki secretly labeled as home .

He breathed it in, then exhaled, his shoulders relaxing with it.

He always felt more comfortable in the War Room than anywhere else in the castle.

Katsuki sat himself at the head of the table, unsheathing his sword once again so he could do so. Its glimmer returned tenfold now that it was surrounded by sunlight. Katsuki took a moment to admire it before setting it down, keeping a firm grasp on the handle the entire time, unwilling to let go of the very thing that saved his life over and over again. 

Sero and Denki quickly followed with their own respective seats, and Katsuki found himself lazily lounging with his feet up on the table, a show of impatience as he waited for the others.

Lord Tenya suddenly appeared, in such a swift manner that no one even heard the door open. "Your Grace! I must once again ask that you do not put your feet on the table! It is very unbecoming of a king-"

"Pipe down, Four Eyes, and sit your ass down."

Tenya immediately obeyed, yet he took the time to cross his arms as his own show of rebellion, annoyed at how once again, the King ignored his plea for decent manners.

Next came Shinsou Hitoshi, who slinked into the war room without a word, hearing nothing but the creak of the door, the latch catching with a small click. He carried this silence to his chair, sitting down before propping an elbow on the table, holding his head in his palm. 

Finally, Shinsou decided to speak. "So, I take it the meeting with Kokorishi didn't go well?"

Sero nodded. “That’s what I’m thinking-”

"It wasn’t that bad-" 

"Shut up," Katsuki growled. "Wait until everyone is here, dammit!"  

Every broken protocol he and his advisors made always reached back to court. People would use it as leverage, complaining about how little they knew of politics, of running the country.

Of him being king.

"Green, the lot of you! What do you know of being a king, huh boy?! You dream of bringing back the Age of Dragons, of ruling the skies, the sea, and every bit of land in between… An age of glory, yes, but an age well past… Why risk killing yourself over something already dead?"

Katsuki thought the whispers would cease once they won the war, and if not, surely once he was crowned. But the voices only grew, as if he and his friends didn't risk their lives for these, extras.

The very thought made Katsuki rage.

What do they know of victory?

The doors opened once more, interrupting his thoughts. Unlike other times, this entrance was loud and clear, Lady Mina coming in with a smile on her face.

“Finally!” Denki groaned, holding up an empty chalice. “I’ve been sitting with an empty cup forever, Minaaa…” He flipped it upside down for emphasis.

“You’ve been here for five minutes,” Sero told him.

“I know! I know! Hold on, will you!” Lady Mina waved them off, making haste towards the pitcher delicately placed on one of the side tables. She went to Katsuki first, dipping into a small curtsy. 

“Blasty,” she said with her head down.

Katsuki flinched at the old nickname, growling as his hand went to block his cup. “I’m King, dammit! Treat me as such!”

Lady Mina redid the curtsy. “King Blasty.”

Katsuki snarled before begrudgingly deciding it wasn’t worth the time. He removed his hand so that the lady could pour. Afterwards, she started making her way around the table. 

“I had to make sure our guest was settled in her room. Hence, my late arrival,” Mina explained, casting a look towards the King while Denki quietly urged her to fill his cup.

"Please, Mina. I think it's gonna be a long one…"

Katsuki didn’t react. He couldn’t care less if the northern lady was comfortable. She could either take what was given, or she could deal with it.

The door opened for a final time, this time in a polite and humble manner. Lord Eijirou Kirishima walked in, covered in soot from head to toe. He also reeked of dragon, the stench of fire and beast clinging to his armor. He bowed at the King, then greeted everyone else with a wave of his hand. “Sorry I’m late!”

“‘S fine,” Katsuki mumbled, nodding towards the open seat on his right. “Let’s just get started.”

Everyone settled as the meeting finally began.

To Katsuki’s left, Lord Shinsou Hitoshi, his Master of Whispers. Next to him, Lord Denki Kaminari, his Master of Coin. Then Lord Iida Tenya, his Master of Laws.

The empty seat across from the lord held an odd sort of chill, a ghost of a presence waiting to be filled. It was meant for the Master of War, but Katsuki insisted on taking that position himself, believing that a true king leads his army personally (and yet, the decision only led to another criticism from the old goats.)

Next to that cold spot, however, was Lord Sero Hanta, his Master of Ships. And then finally, Lord Eijirou Kirishima, the Hand of the King, dutifully on his right side while Lady Mina stood in the background, ready to fill cups and speak her mind whenever she deemed necessary.

Katsuki turned towards his Hand. “Did we figure out why the dragons snapped?”

Ei nodded. “It was Musouka. In fact, it was only Musouka.”

“Huh?” Katsuki asked. Musouka was a gentle spirit. Very rarely did they have problems with her. What caused her to act out?

Eijirou shrugged. “Don’t know. The dragon handlers said she was fine, then out of nowhere, rahh!” He mimicked a dragon breathing fire, causing a few snickers from Sero and Denki

Katsuki rolled his eyes, unamused. He won’t tell the group, but that secretly bothered him. He knew his dragons, and Musouka never acted out. The fact that she did so just when your ship docked…

“Anybody hurt?” Katsuki asked.

“Two handlers got burned. We escorted them to the maester, but they said it wasn’t too severe. They should be fine.”

“Good.” Katsuki nodded.

“So…” Sero drawled. “Are we going to talk about the North?”

Denki tried to defend. “The meeting went fine-”  

“It went crap,” Katsuki interrupted.

“It wasn’t that bad- ”

“She said I wasn’t a man!” Katsuki fumed, his free hand balling into a fist.

“She said if you didn’t help out the North, you wouldn’t be a man,” Denki pointed out.

“Same thing!”

“Huh." Eijiro scratched his chin thoughtfully. "The North is known for being very proud, Your Grace."

Shinsou nodded. “They also just lost their own war, so they're probably desperate.”

"Even more of a reason to throw them out,” Katsuki grumbled. “Why should I form an alliance with someone who loses?”

Lord Tenya spoke up, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Even with the North's recent loss, we cannot pretend that an alliance wouldn’t be helpful to your reign, Your Grace. If anything, simply because they oppose the West.”

Eijirou nodded vigorously with excitement. “If we can get them to support your claim as king, we might also be able to convince the East!”

“Why should I care what they think, huh?! I didn’t need their support during the war, and I don’t need it now!” Katsuki barked, pissed at the idea of needing help.

“Having their support would make the West less likely to rise up against you,” Shinsou told him.

Katsuki smirked dangerously, his grip on his sword tightening. “I’d like to see them try.”

“The objective is to avoid war, Blasty,” Lady Mina said, going around the table once again for refills. “An alliance with the North would promote peace.”

“Also, repairing one of the greatest political relationships in history?” Sero added. “That’ll be a very good look for you.”

"Plus, we could forge blackstone again!” Denki cheered. “With the North’s blacksmiths, and our dragon-taming skills, it’ll be a breeze.”

Katsuki growled, still not convinced. “How do we know their blacksmiths are still up to task? It’s been decades since they worked with blackstone.”

“Still better than us,” Sero mumbled into his cup, their poor attempt of a throne coming to mind.

“How do we know they’ll keep their word?” Katsuki went on.

“The North will, Your Grace,” His Hand assured them. “They are very honorable people.”

“Preaching it and being it isn’t the same,” Katsuki argued.

Shinsou sighed. “His Grace makes a fair point. Even if we had the North’s word, we would need more than that, and something binding if we want it to last...”

A strong gust of wind passed through, and the smokey-sweet smell of the room breezed along with it. The sound of the waves returned once more, accompanied by the screeching of seagulls, and if one listened closely, the faint roar of a dragon…

And then Ei, holding his chin in deep thought, asked tentatively,  “The lady spoke in place of her brother… right?”

Katsuki felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, a feeling that only occurred to him in battle.

Where was this going…

Shinsou nodded. “Her elder brother is making his journey back north. The path involves him crossing through the mudlands which, I’ve been told, is tedious.”

“Soo…” Eijirou cautiously drawled. “She’s eligible?”

Everybody caught on, especially the King.

“No,” he refused.

“Your Grace-”

“No.”

“But-”

“I said no, dammit!” Katsuki yelled with finality.

“Your Grace…” Lady Mina began, serious, if she was actually using his title. “You promised. After the war, you would think about heirs.”

“Heirs. Not marriage,” he seethed.

“You really want the Age of Dragons to continue without your bloodline?” Sero questioned.

“I’m still young, dammit. I’m not going anywhere,” Katsuki told them.

“Still, you never know what the gods have planned, Your Grace,” Denki warned. “You could be riding on Katsuko one day and then all of the sudden-” he whistled, mimicking the sound of him falling through the air before collapsing into the earth.

That just made Katsuki scowl. He’s been riding dragons since he was a child. He wasn’t going to fall off.

“We also can’t ignore that your insistence on commanding the army yourself leaves you in a vulnerable position every time we go to war, Your Grace,” said Tenya.

Katsuki’s scowl deepened. He was always in a vulnerable position during wartime. He was the King.

“I was able to talk to her for a bit!” Lady Mina chimed in. “She seems smart, strong, and she’s pretty -”

Katsuki grunted, doubtful. The lady showed up looking as if she came on dragonback herself, hair wild from the wind, green in the face, wearing that ridiculous northern attire…

“Plus, it was the Kokorishi family that made your sword! Eh?” Ei nudged him encouragingly, and Katsuki felt the grip on his sword tighten once more, knuckles becoming white as the metal dug into his palm

Eijirou went on, oblivious of Katsuki's annoyance. "Shi no Hikaru, one of the most famous blades ever . Melted with dragon fire, crafted by the Great Blacksmith himself-”

“Don’t lecture me about my sword,” Katsuki mumbled, standing up to leave. 

That was the final straw.

Everyone stood up with him before he shouted over his shoulder, commanding them not to follow. “I’m going to the training grounds!”

He really needed to slash something.

*****

It was just his luck that when he got there, so was the Deku, pathetically swinging his little toothpick sword on a practice dummy.

Everyone immediately bowed towards the King. Everyone but him. He paid no mind to Katsuki at all, obliviously continuing his training.

“OI! HAVEN’T YOU MET A KING BEFORE?” Katsuki shouted, causing the boy to stumble and drop his sword.

Deku whipped around, frantically bending at the knee once his eyes met the King. “Your Grace! I didn’t see you-”

“And I see you’re still worthless,” said Katsuki, descending the steps so that they could meet on ground level.

Deku stood tall. “I’m a knight now-”

Katsuki barked out a laugh. “And you’re an insult to all of ‘em. Why the old man of the North knighted you, I will never understand.” He grabbed onto the shrimp’s shirt, hoisting him into the air. “And naming you sworn protector on top of that. Old fool must've not cared for his daughter…”

He felt a tap on his shoulder.

Katsuki looked over and found you, glaring at him with intense anger.

“Let my knight go,” you seethed.

Katsuki smirked, humored by your nerve. Of course, he wasn’t actually going to do anything. You were a guest after all. 

But you certainly didn’t need to know that.

He took the time the glance over you, noting your change of attire. No longer did you wear the heavy northern gear, but a light cotton shirt and breeches, like a man. Your hair was roughly braided back, away from your face.

You were, what? On your way to the stables?

Either way, Katsuki saw an opportunity in your presence. He could settle this deal his way.

“Tell ya’ what, Lady." He let Deku go, allowing him to collapse on the ground. "We settle this through combat.” 

Katsuki pointed his chin towards Deku. "Me against him, and if you win, I’ll supply the North for winter-"

"And if I lose?" you interrupted skeptically. "You're just going to let my people starve?"

"'Course not. I'll still do it." Katsuki grumbled, but then he smiled, looking ferociously smug as he set the hook. "But you have to forge blackstone for the South for ten years, and the North has to swear fealty to me ."

You hesitated, nervously biting your lip. You looked around the grounds, eyeing all of the men who stopped to hear the King’s challenge. "You make this vow, in front of all of your men as well as mine?"

Katsuki’s smile grew, taking pleasure in saying, "'Course I do. I'm a man of honor, afterall..."

You continued to bite your lip, looking up at the sky, down at the ground, anywhere but him. Katsuki knew he had you then…

Your lord brother would disown you if the North bent the knee to yet another king. And with your recent loss in battle, the North's dignity was hanging by a thread. Yet if you refuse, what good would that be for your people? 

You’ll also be a hypocrite , Katsuki noted. For what good is it to insult his manhood, when you won’t even let your own knight fight?

You should submit and accept the shame. Katsuki would win. No use dooming your House in the process-

"Fine. On one condition."

"Eh?” Katsuki leaned back, surprised by your decision. “And what's that?"

You crossed your arms, your own sly grin smearing across your face. "You fight me instead."

Murmurs could be heard throughout the grounds. Armor creaked as fellow knights turned towards one another, buzzing the air as a result of your words.

“M’lady-” Deku scrambled to get up.

“Hah!” Katsuki barked. “You’re on.”

And so you both turned around and walked to your respective corners. As Katsuki took off his cape, he peeked over his shoulder to see Deku quietly urging you not to fight, to let him do it.

“Please, m’lady! It’s my duty…”

But you must’ve ignored him, because when Katsuki turned back around and walked towards the center, you did as well, your sword the same size as your knight’s. 

Katsuki smirked again. This was going to be easy…

And it was just in that moment, when you were both in position, feet ready as you held up your swords, his blinding and yours too small, that he saw the small pendant that laid upon your chest, its snow-white color and curvaceous shape somehow catching his eye. A white fox.

Your House’s sigil.

Katsuki ignored it and took the first swing. You evaded it, and so he tried again, hoping you would keep evading long enough so that he could back you into a corner. 

And you did. You would step, twist, and duck through any move he made. You kept backing up, and he kept pushing forward. He nearly had you pressed up against the wall when he blinked and, suddenly, you were gone. Katsuki felt his feet fall out from under him, and before he knew it, he was on the ground. Before he could kick back up, your boot was on his chest, and you were pointing your little toothpick at the King, as if it was supposed to scare him.

"Best two out of three?" You smiled down at him.

Katsuki let out a sound of rage, standing up, and you backed towards the center as they prepared for the next round.

A fox. He should've known you would act like one...

They started again, this time your sword tinked against his blows, and every time you would circle around him, causing him to keep turning himself around to attack you. After a while of the dance, Katsuki had enough. With a yell, he swung angrily behind him, successfully predicting your next move and hitting your sword right out of your hand.

You cried in pain, holding your wrist, while Katsuki just stared down at the stick on the ground.

"Huh. Surprised I didn't break it," he bragged, rolling his shoulders back.

You sneered up at him, still clutching your wrist. 

Katsuki pointed it out. "Looks sprained. Guess you can't use your sword anymore."

You scoffed before picking up your sword with your other hand. "I'm fine." 

You held it up. "Let's go."

Katsuki smiled, satisfied that you were giving it your all instead of fighting like a wimp, like how some people try to do when they're up against the King. 

He held up his own sword once again, ready to win.

Surprisingly, you made the first move this time, moving just as fast as you did before, your strikes carrying the same energy as when you were using your dominant hand. And Katsuki would never admit it, but the switched sides threw him off a bit. He had to adapt to where you were going to strike, but he soon picked up the pattern and did it with ease. He was able to knock away your sword again. Once you were weaponless, he grabbed you by the shirt, holding his sword up against your neck and, victory...

Yet as he lightly pressed his blade against your neck, he felt a small prick against his.

Without moving, he looked down, finding a small blade in your sprained hand.

He looked back up. You were smiling, wild and crazed, eyes shining bright with the reflection of his blade and your own joy that you got one over him.

"A draw," you beamed breathlessly, and Katsuki could feel the heat of your body, the sweat beading down your temples and hairline, traveling down your jaw, your neck, your chest. And right in front of him as clear as day, that little fox pendant, mocking him.

"What do we do now?" you ask.

Katsuki wordlessly let you go, thinking. It wasn't long for your knight to scurry up to you, frantically asking, "Are you alright, m'lady? How's your wrist? We should wrap it, get some ice-"

"I'm fine, ser," you brushed him off, still waiting for the King to answer. When he still didn't give one, you shrugged impatiently. "So?"

Katsuki returned his sword back into his sheath, still holding the handle. "The South will help provide the North for winter. We'll send shipments directly to Kokorishi, and you can distribute to the other Houses of the North however you see fit." He pierced you with a glare. "But everyone should get something. If I find you cheating your people, the deal's off."

"Of course! We would never do that," you objected.

Katsuki shrugged. "So people say. But the truth is, Lady, I don't know you and you don't know me. I'm sure you've heard plenty horror stories about the South…"

You looked down at the ground, your knight still fretting over your wrist, somehow coming up with strips of cloth so he could wrap it…

Your silence was confirmation that he was right.

Katsuki continued. "In return, the North will help us forge blackstone once winter is over, along with the return of any food crates that haven't been used."

"And for how long will you expect our services?" you asked.

"Just for the season, unless your lord brother wants to extend it. I'll discuss that with him once he reaches your homeland."

You nodded, satisfied with the arrangement. "Fine. On behalf of the North, House Kokorishi accepts the terms."

Deku finished wrapping your wrist, and you took the opportunity to step forward, offering your good hand to the King.

Katsuki stared at it for the moment, catching the coarseness of the palm and knuckles, a result of your swordplay. And Katsuki could practically hear Lady Mina teasing him now.

Not exactly the hand of a traditional lady, is it?

Katsuki released his hold on his sword and accepted your hand, his own completely covering yours with ease, and for a brief moment, you looked faint.

You shimmied your hand out of his grasp quickly. You cleared your throat, "Good. I expect a contract to be written up?"

The King nodded, still looking down at you, wondering why you acted that way. "My Master of Laws will work on it. He'll deliver it to you once it's done."

You nodded again, and to his surprise, you gave a slight bow to him. "Thank you, Dragon King. The North is grateful for your aid."

And maybe it was out of curiosity or a sense of goodwill, but Katsuki asked if you were going to leave.

You looked up at him, confused. "Is our business not done?"

Katsuki huffed. "If we're gonna forge blackstone again, I want the North to know exactly what we do. Your people may be the only ones able to craft it, but my people are the only ones who can get it ."

He took a step towards you, commanding you to, "Stay."

You looked uncertain, so Katsuki explained it to you. "We do it right this time. Both sides learn about the other's work. Both sides respect the other's work. We reform our relationship, and in return, our alliance."

You nodded, understanding. "Fine, Dragon King. I can do that. But how long do you expect me to stay?"

Well, if his advisors had it their way, forever. But Katsuki wouldn't dare seal his fate that quickly.

"As long as we both see fit," he told you instead. "In the meantime, your status as guest remains. You can roam, visit the city if you wish. Might even learn a thing or two…"

Everyone stood at attention when the King began to leave, even, to his surprise, Deku.

But not you. You just stood there, staring back at him curiously.

And perhaps it was how you carried yourself in front of him, how you held your own in combat, or your obvious passion for your people, your undying need to defend them…

But it made Katsuki think about it.

A hound and a sheep.

cover shot (through the heart) | masterlist

pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Reader

status: complete

length: 16,521 words

summary: For years, you’ve been the only assistant in the business equipped to handle foul-tempered supermodel Katsuki Bakugou. That is, until he catches on to your weak point.

tags: model AU, sexual tension, snark, praise kink, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, implied lighter-skinned reader

note: In retrospect, this work is one of my least inclusive. A large portion of the plot depends on the reader’s blush being visible on her skin. I just wanted to make this clear to anyone looking to read this fic, and apologize to any potential readers that this excludes. Going forward, I will endeavor to do better! 

chapter links:

one

two

three

four

five

six

cross posted on ao3: here

baby shouto

This meme leapt into my head earlier at work, so I had to make it

okay sooooo while procrastinating on my responsibilities i decided to make a giant list of the bkg/reader fics i've read (so far) on ao3. here's a link to the tumblr fic rec list i made a while ago too lol. please keep in mind that not all of these works are sfw!! i will label the nsfw-containing ones ofc but, as always, be cautious!

note: these are all LONG FICS. as in i sorted the bkg/reader tag on ao3 by word count and kept going until i hit works with abt 5k words. i might continue to add onto this list as i read more LOL idk

be still, just for me by WitchofWriting. this is THE bkg isekai fic tht i'm sure everyone has read lol. contains nsfw. there's also tedium in blue (mermaid bkg). i think that was one of the first bkg fics ive ever read and it will always be special to me LOL

of snowscapes & explosions by sugarbun. tbh i haven't finished this yet but from what i did read it's good!! canon compliant

other by Deadite. also haven't finished this one yet but it's a kind of coraline au!! interesting stuff tbh

enouement by LadysDaze. i read this fic a looooong time ago so i can't rmb much but it was p interesting! it's a choose your own ending type fic. there's also memento mori (fantasy fic w good worldbuilding tbh), entangle, expecting the unexpected (pregnancy/family fic), star-crossed (fantasy), blood bond (vampire bkg) and its sequel blood union tht i haven't read yet sdjfdfkg

misery business by siegmunde. OHHHMYYGODDD this fic. i was obsessed with it omg. i cannot even explain how insane it made me. has nsfw at end

cruel world by lydiasgrace. idt i finished this one but i do like villain reader LOL

like ghosts in snow by Jupiters_Witch. genuinely i think this fic ruined me /pos. vampire au & does contain nsfw things!! mind the tags

surrender (whenever you're ready) by OfMermaids (hi merms!!). THIS FIC. CHANGED MY LIFE!!! literally anything by merms is sososo good. i want to eat them all whole. on loop in my head 24/7!! contains nsfw btw. there's also the widening sky (mermaid bkg tht made me sad for days) and on my way (to you).

white curtains by arsonphobic. tbh i havent finished this one too but its got an older (by a yr) reader whom i liked! canon compliant i think

our love at sunset by LittleSponge. horizon zero dawn au. very well done imo. ending made me cry LOL (in a good way). contains nsfw

uncharted by NyxRedfoxWinchester. reader's quirk in this is soooo fucking cool to me. i read it a while ago so i dont rmb a lot but like i rmb the quirk and bkg LMFAO.

zigzags by hokshi. i can't rmb this fic all too well either but ik i liked it LOL. contains nsfw!!

newsflash, asshole (i kinda love you) by YukiRiikus_Reading_Room. fake dating au!! idt it contains nsfw but it has some steamy parts

i melt with you by art_deco_deity. i am so sad this fic hasn't been updated in a hot min bc its genuinely got fantastic bkg characterization!!!

garden of lungs by 0weCrew. ive read so many hanahaki aus that they've blurred together but this was v good!

exiles by BookWormOnAString. i'm currently reading this one actually! fantasy au with dragon kiri!!

how're your hands? by Spazztastic. another fic i read a long time ago. it's canon compliant i blv but i rly liked the reader tbh

body switch up by Fandomness_randommess. a body swap au if the title wasn't obvious enough LOL. it was interesting reading how both reader and bkg dealt with their predicament here pfft

husband for hire by btp. also currently reading this!! stardew au! there's also boîte de pandore. v good shit

gemini syndrome by opal_vortex. LMAOOOO this was such a fun read ngl. masked singer au!! will contain nsfw

mistletoe by WhenSarahSmiles. this is a UA christmas/new year's booklet that is sooooo well done tbh. i love bkg in it. super cute

and you take me the way i am by willowser (hi will!!). pro hero bkg in this >>>>> he is so AHHHH!! makes me insane. very well written!! contains slight nsfw.

bar tool by thunderhead. LMAO this is like a bar and band au combined?? i loooveeee bkg in this and his interactions with reader pfft. contains nsfw

sugar scorched by restwellsoon. culinary au!! bkg is like gordan ramset ngl LMAOO its rly cute imo and very detailed wrt the cooking things from what i rmb. idt it has nsfw

war paint by andypantsx3. i love how andie writes bkg tbh. he makes me wanna beat him up. there's also statistically significant, and cover shot (through the heart). all of them contain nsfw!!

learning your love language by hokshi. the author has the tag 'when ur love language is getting punched in the face' on this fic and honestly? LMAOOO so true for bkg. contains nsfw!!

oil paintings and late night jam sessions by insanityrunsinthe_family. this was also one of the first bkg fics i've ever read and it is so so so good. it's college au bkg and i looovee every part of it.

the phoenix by orphan_account. i'm so sad this fic was dropped but its plot is genuinely so interesting to me. it's more aizawa/reader tho tbh.

sleeping in the garden by Petrichorium (hi loriii<3). i will ALWAYS plug this fic. single dad bkg au!! sososo fcking good, trust. will contain nsfw

jealousy, jealousy by lytters. i think i rbed this on tumblr already but its such a fun read tbh LOL.

fathoms below by 32Q27. i'd started reading this and didn't get to finish bc life. mermaid au!!

a fractured flame by Magicow12. fantasy au!! very entertaining from what i rmb! contains nsfw

breath of a dragon by free_deku. i rec'd this before but im doing it again bc it's that good omg. fantasy & reincarnation au. contains nsfw!!

bakugô wants a ride. by Bragi. LMAO contrary to the title i dont think it has nsfw pfft. mechanic reader tht bkg's crushin on!!

turning page by rhydonium. THIS IS ALSO SOO GOOD omg i almost forgot abt it. god bkg!!!! i literally cannot describe how good it is.

posting the timelapse of the cleanup and colouring for this in light of the volume 37 cover

Happy birthday Dabi 2023 🎉✨💕

Oh, this is cute. So people were pointing out that Miruko called Katsuki “Dainama” in the chapter around the same time as the Dynama comic was drafted when she’s trying to get him to get his act together. But look, the characters used are different! What could it mean?

Miruko uses: ダイナマあ (Dainamaa), just a shortened version of his hero name (Dainamaito, ダイナマイト) plus the interjection あ which is “Ah!”, like “Hey” in English, something you say to grab attention.

Our little Dynama on the other hand has a really clever name! The hiragana used are: だいなま (Dainama)

Dai: ‘what the—’

and

Nama: rude little shit basically. (Yes I also tittered at that third definition 😏).

It’s a pun!!

So our new favourite son’s name is pretty much…

WTF Is That Rude Thing

I love Horikoshi so much.

Bakugou Katsuki ➤ 6.15

if i never see another tiktok throwing around the phrase “feminine rage” it’ll be all too soon. “feminine rage” this, “feminine rage” that, “feminine rage” shouldn’t be a label we slap on poorly explained or hand-waved plot choices to shove in some violence—“feminine rage” should be about the crack, about violently letting loose after suppressing suppressing suppressing. it should be railing at how fucking unfair it is that sometimes we are heaped into tiny tight little boxes and expected to stay there it should be about how horrific it is that we never completely belong to ourselves, how we are constantly performing, how we can dedicate our entire lives to other people and still be treated like the butt of a joke (“your mother’s just hysterical” or “I pranked my wife by pretending i threw out something special to her” or “I grew up and stopped chasing after looks and chose someone loyal”). it’s not girlpower it’s not about girlbossing it’s about being pushed to the very edge and how that is a horrific tragedy that could’ve been avoided if things just weren’t so terrible.