Rating: MA
Pairing(s): Tamaki Amajiki x fem!reader, Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader
Warnings: hurt/comfort, heavy angst, emotional cheating, major character death, smut, body horror/graphic injuries, trauma, ptsd, sinkhole accident, medical trauma, hospital scenes
expected wc: 20k+
Summary: Soulmates are given to every child when they turn five through their dreams. You were never assigned one. Growing up and coming to terms with never having a soulmate, you find another Tamaki with a similar fate and become happily engaged. What happens when you start to dream of an old classmate though, his ruby eyes and caramel scent haunting you in and out of your dreams?
a/n: this is my part for the big bang collab (@mybigbangacademia )! woooooooo!!!! artwork to come by the lovely @/wasabi-gumdrop. uhhhhh what else..... this first part is 5k, and overall i'm gonna have over 20k words lmao, so good luck me and everyone else. also, my ao3 is linked too! have fun with that.
and as always,
minors dni
-(-)-
It’s him.
Your eyes meet his and you remember it all.The folds of his school uniform from years ago. His blonde hair in the wind as he blasts his way through the air, racing to be the first pro-hero on site. He stands there, watching you go through the motions. Watching you unsure of yourself, palm over your heart as it aches for him. You step forward, not sure if you’re making the choice to walk towards him or if your heart is still the one in control.
He watches with a careful expression, as if he’s known for years that he’s been the one. He watches as if he’s been waiting. Waiting for your eyes, once clouded, to look into his vermilion ones and see for yourself who he is.
Katsuki, your voice is barely above a whisper and there’s tears starting to sprout from your eyes.
His eyebrows furrow, as if he can’t tell if you’re relieved or questioning the weight of his name on your tongue.
You hold out your hand, outstretched fingers aching to brush his skin.
You okay?
The palms of his hands are warm as they hold yours, and for the first time in forever,you tell the truth.
-(-)-
The room is still dark despite the streaks of light filtering through the blinds. Your mind is foggy, the remnants of your dream withering away with each second. You blink back tears, unsure of what it was you were dreaming about now that you’ve started to wake up. Still half asleep, you mistake the man in your arms for blankets and pillows until he starts to stir awake. For a brief second, a scary moment, you forget who he is and why he’s in your bed.
“Tamaki,” you whisper. You didn’t mean to say this out loud yet he groans in reply, mistaking your answer to your own question for a greeting. “G’morning.”
“Mm,” he hums. Your arms squeeze tight around his shoulders and now that your eyes have adjusted to the dark, you can finally make out his indigo bedhead against your pillows. “Mornin’.”
You smile, ignoring the strange sadness settling inside your belly. “When did you get in? You were still working when I went to bed last night.”
Tamaki doesn’t answer for a moment and you think he’s fallen asleep until he turns onto his back. People mistake him for being thin, wiry. Yet you can feel the ropes of muscle in his arms as he pulls you in close by your waist, you can feel his broad chest and his stocky build against your soft curves. His quirk revolves around food and he’s a damn good pro-hero, a prospective top 10 hero this year, of course he ain’t skinny.
“Three,” he replies. “Stay in bed.”
“The Clash is in full swing, Tama.” You joke but you curl into his warmth nonetheless, allowing yourself the few minutes of peace before you go into work. ‘The Clash’, meaning your conflicting schedules, happens at least three times a year. A few weeks of one of you having graveyard shifts while the other keeps to the normal day-time shifts for a pro-hero. He sleepily groans again, yet Tamaki loosens his arms around you.
“When’s your shift done?” His words slur, and it takes you a moment to comprehend his question before you answer.
“I’ll be going in by then,” Tamaki sighs.
You kiss his jaw, soft and clean shaven. He still shaved after his graveyard shift last night, knowing that you prefer the feeling of his skin smooth over the prickle of a five o’clock shadow, AM or otherwise.
“Should’ve gone to my agency instead of staying with Fatgum,” you tease. Tamaki never would’ve changed agencies, and he reaffirms that with a displeased hum. A soft giggle slips out from your lips and you roll your eyes.
Your agencies aren’t that far apart, yet it’s clear that Fatgum’s is far superior than the one you’ve started at a few weeks ago. Your manager nearly quit on you when you transferred, ignoring her pleas to move somewhere that’ll help you climb the ranks instead of plateau. You waved off the questions people threw, ignoring their confusion as to why you’d ever leave such a high ranking angeny for a… mediocre one. He doesn’t put up much of a fight when you start to peel away from him, stuffing his face into your pillows as you fumble around the room. The apartment is quiet when you slip on your running shoes, you sling your work bag over your shoulders before you give one last quiet goodbye to your fiancé.
-(-)-
There’s a nagging feeling that you’ve forgotten something. All day you couldn’t shake it. All day your fingers drummed against every desk and flat surface, you bounced your legs on the balls of your feet until your coworkers threw heated glares in your direction. You ignore them now, you ignore their exasperated sighs as you continue to bounce your leg while you type away your paperwork. You chew the inside of your cheek, resting your chin in your hand as you scroll through the file one last time before submitting it for review. These arrests won’t help your rank, it won’t make you popular, they won’t even make it to the front page of the Esuha Daily News let alone the fourteenth page. But it’s a good day.
You’ve made good arrests today, all without casualty. You even meal planned your fucking lunch. So why the hell are you on edge?
Of course your arrests didn’t have casualties though, they didn’t even have injuries. You barely used your quirk today.
Did you even use your quirk today?
The highest activity your watch took track of was when you took a light jog back to your agency building after capturing a runaway purse snatcher. In fact, that was the first and only time you had to use your quirk. He thought running sporadically would throw you off your balance, and maybe it would’ve for a low ranking hero. In a split second you activated your quirk and he teleported right into your arms instead of turning the corner like he had planned. You’ve been working on this trick for months, teleporting objects or people in your place but catching them halfway. Meeting them in the middle. In seconds he was in handcuffs and you left it to the police to get him into custody. You jogged back to work for lunch.
The inside of your cheek starts to bleed as anxiety gnaws inside you. Whatever it was that you had forgotten, is probably gone forever. Irritated at the realization, you sigh and decide to burn off this extra energy with a walk around the building. Tamaki is probably getting dressed by now, stuffing his hero costume into his work bag right from the dryer. He’s got a terrible habit of not folding his clothes, you both do. It’s why you invested in a wrinkle releaser spray, and you hope he’s remembered it for tonight’s shift. Civilians recognize you still, you can’t help a sense of pride and relief when their eyes brighten at the sight of you. A child stops you from your anxiety-ridden walk for a quick autograph, begging you to show them your teleportation quirk before their parent bashfully drags them away.
Your hands twitch, begging to be useful and aching to be used again. You turn the opposite away and head back to the agency.
-(-)-
I cooked u dinner!, you text Tamaki, don’t forget it. it’ll help ur shift tonight :P
Your head bowed low as you stroll down the block, your shift just ending according to the time in your phone. It’s why you don’t see him, it’s why you feel the split second heat of his body prickles against you before you activate your quirk to avoid further disaster. He stumbles in your previous spot, his cheeks pale from nausea as he leans forward (usual symptoms of being teleported without warning).
“Watch where you’re fucking going,” he spits out before straightening up. An eerie sense of dejavú washes over you as you stare back at Dynamight. His eyes haven’t been painted with eyeliner yet, and he’s carrying a gym bag over his shoulders that’s most likely holding his costume.
“Right- sorry.” You let out a laugh, not sure why you’re feeling flustered. You have work to finish before going home, a few more files to mark as “important” even though they’re technically insignificant. You have a home to go to. But his eyes are still on you. And you can’t look away. You’ve forgotten something today, and it’s nagging at you even more now than ever.
His eyebrows furrow and he watches you carefully as your thoughts race. “Shadow Step,” he greets you curtly.
“Dynamight,” you nod and give him a polite smile. Your eyes cut to the athletic compression band on his left arm, surprised to even see a kind that begins from your shoulder and ends at your fingertips. “Are you going into a shift or coming from one?”
Bakugou looks you up and down for a moment before answering, “Coming from one.” There’s an awkward pause before he clears his throat. “You look like you’ve got a long night ahead of ya.” Yeah because you haven’t fucking done anything all day and you’re bored .
“Shift just ended actually,” you smile and look behind him towards the agency building.
“You okay?” Bakugou’s words snap your attention back to him, that feeling of dejavú even stronger now.
You both stare for a moment; you, deciding on telling the truth, and him patiently waiting for you to answer or just move along.
“Yeah,” you lie. You hurry back inside the building before he can reply. He used to call me Bambi , you distantly remember. You don’t know why your heart is still racing after seeing him again.
-(-)-
For the next week, it keeps happening.
You wake up with either tears in your eyes or the ghosts of one’s still on your cheeks. Yet whatever you dreamt of is long gone, no matter how much you try to cling to the memories. Until one morning it lingers, the feeling of his hair between your fingers and the warmth of his body against yours. The smell of caramel.
The realization settles slowly, until the weight of guilt is heavy against your bones.
“Fuck,” you mutter. Out of fear, you reach behind you only to feel a cold empty bed beside you. That’s right, Tamaki is on a plane to China for a mission. He’s not going to be back for another week. You stuff your face into the soft blankets, hoping that the smell of home will dampen the heavy caramel still filtering in your mind.
You’ve never even had a real conversation with Bakugou since… ever. With the exception of last week when you inexplicably ran into him, you always saw him in passing from your years at UA. Neither of you had spoken much, maybe paired against each other’s classes for training but other than that…
Today is your day off, you give yourself the luxury of staying in bed for just a little bit longer. The warmth in your chest from your dream is finally lifting, leaving you to breathe once again.
It meant nothing. Just a random dream.
But as your day continues, you can’t get rid of the thought of him.
Why weren’t you guys ever friends? Maybe because he was a major asshole who looked down at everyone like they were a piece of shit.
You snort, shaking the very idea out of your head until a memory springs forth.
Cherry blossoms were floating in the air and the weather just started to turn warmer. It was your third year, the excitement of graduating buzzed through all your classmates and it meant that you all had trouble concentrating on courses. You had gotten in trouble for doodling during the fire quirk safety course, and was forced to stay behind to clean the classroom all by yourself before heading back to your dorms.
You bumped into Katsuki right after, both of you stunned that another student was still around the school so late that neither of you said a word just yet.
“God, Bambi, you’d think that with your stupid quirk you wouldn’t bump into anyone,” he rolls his eyes.
“Fuck, I’m sorry-! Bambi?” You instantly retract your apology, glaring as he brushes you off.
“Yeah, Bambi. Baby deer who can barely fucking walk?” His stupid smirk makes you see red, especially when he starts to step away from you. I nstead of his heavy boot meeting the ground, his face does instead when you activate your quirk. The checkered tiles don’t match now since you’ve switched their spots, but you’re cackling too loudly to care. Just as you try to leave, Katsuki’s hand grabs your ankle and trips you. It’s too quick for you to even think to use your quirk, and the smack of the tile stings.
“What the- fuck you!” You turn and snarl, his annoying little sneering frustrates you more.
“Relax, tit for tat.” Bakugou towers over you, the same hand that tripped you is now offered to help you stand. Reluctantly you take it.
You both help pick up the other’s things, his papers that flew with perfect grades and messy drawings on the tests that you finished early on. It’s quiet between you both. To be honest you were feeling awkward, wondering if maybe you are just a lowly piece of shit as you stare at Bakugou’s perfect marks. You glance at him, not wanting him to catch you marveling at how absolutely genius he is, and find him with one of your essays in his hands. His thumb traces over a messy sketch of a face, the angles harsh and the eyes sharp, but the rest was a blur.
“Soulmate?” He grumbles, his red eyes looking up at yours and you feel your insides freeze at being caught.
“Uh, no. I don’t think so. I don’t think I have one,” you mumble and take the essay from him. Morbid curiosity takes over and you ask him the same.
“Yes,” his answer surprises you. Something in your belly flips, not wanting to know why exactly that upsets you.
You didn’t expect him to have one, not with his attitude and ego. It shouldn't be surprising that he has one, it’s rare for someone to be like you: one without a soulmate. Fated to be alone. By the age of five, right around the time a child has gotten their quirk, they start to dream of their soulmate. You’ve heard of soulmates meeting in sleep, talking and laughing and holding each other in dreams. Waking up knowing they’re out there, remembering every detail of them. You didn’t get these dreams. Maybe you saw people, indistinct faces. But everyone did.
“But how do you know they're your soulmate and not just a random person your brain made up? How do you know it’s not just chemicals?”
Your friends shrugged, a dopey smile on their faces as they imagined their future partners, “You just do.”
That wasn’t helpful.
“Oh,” you replied. “Congrats.” You wanted to reach out and fix his tie and a part of you yearned to run your hands through his hair and see if it truly feels as soft as it looks. Instead you stuffed your papers into your bookbag and stood, muttering an apology for tripping him.
Bakugou looks at you and nods, “It’s fine. I was being a dick.” The sun setting outside streamed through the glass wall and washed over his cheeks, his eyes are rubies in the sunlight. “See ya around, Bambi.”
You nodded, turning away before he could first.
Almost immediately, the feeling of warmth in your chest turns to guilt. A chill runs down your spine, prickling your skin with discomfort. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters.
You’re engaged. He has a soulmate.
None of it matters. You’re happy.
You’re happy. You’re happy. You’re happy. You’re happy.
You mutter this to yourself all day. You tap the words onto your lips with your pen as you fill out endless paperwork. Today you avoid going out on patrol, not wanting to bump into him again. Nearly every time you’ve gone on patrol, you see Katsuki,- Bakugou,- Dynamite . The screams of children as they swarm towards him would catch your attention, and of course the moment you glance towards the commotion you meet his gaze. Time stands still for just a millisecond, and the vague feeling you woke up with that moment would come back like dejavu. Or you’re getting lunch, rushing towards the food stand with the older auntie who loves to squeeze your cheeks and demand you eat more, when the smell of sugar lingers for a moment before disappearing. You hate how your heart races at the smell of sugar burning, you hate that you think of his soft blond hair and his eyes, only to see the treats being sold to the families passing through. All of your shifts are so sleepy, so goddamn boring, that you never noticed the stands selling sweets like American brittle or caramel dipped apples until now.
Caramel follows you everywhere now. Or maybe it’s always been there and you just haven’t noticed. So you decide to stay inside the office, at least until Tamaki gets back from his mission and you can feel like yourself again.
I’m happy. I’m happy. I’m happy.
You stare at the photo of Tamaki and you on your desk, doing everything you can to ignore the ghost smell of caramel determined to linger around you.
-(-)-
You train harder at night. You do everything to avoid sleeping and if you do pass out, you hope to not dream. You can’t take it, seeing him instead of Tamaki. As you go through the motions of hitting the punching bag, ignoring the way your body screams for you to take a break, you nearly miss Tamaki’s call.
“I haven’t heard from you,” his voice makes your chest tighten with guilt. “How was your day?”
The same. It’s always the same. You walk and catch the occasional kid who tries to steal a phone. You sit in your office and do the mind numbing paperwork that follows. Rinse. Repeat.
It’s always the same. You hardly use your quirk, you hardly use the special moves you worked so hard on back in your high school days.
You go home to an empty apartment and an empty bed, left wondering why the hell you aren’t doing more. You go home and eat a dinner you always make for yourself and wish for once that someone else can just do it for you. You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, still brimming with energy and pent up rage, wondering why you are here. Longing for a home that doesn’t exist.
“It was fine,” you chug water in between breaths, the muscles in your arms quivering as you finally take a break.
“That’s nice,” his voice is sweet. You hate how annoyed you’re starting to feel about how compliant he is. There’s a long silence and you wonder when you both got so comfortable.
When did you get so comfortable? When did you stop trying? Why did you decide to settle for less?
That thought stops you cold. Settle for less? Did you mean your career or… Tamaki wasn’t less. He’s a good man, a brave hero, a loving partner. He took care of you. He takes care of you.
He’s never pushed you.
You both never fought, you were both so compliant.
But he loves you.
“I love you,” you say.
Tamaki keens out a shy noise, still not used to your affection even after all your years together and you smile. “I love you too.”
“I want to leave my agency,” you blurt out. “I hate it. It’s so boring.” Everything spills, the way you feel so useless each day, your dreams of being the best being swept away by his shadow, you tell Tamaki everything. Leaving out the smell of caramel that haunts you each morning.
Tamaki is quiet for a moment before responding, “We have a position.”
“You do?” You sit on the gym mat, wondering why you ever doubted your faithful fiancé, your ecstatic laughter rings through the training center.
“Yes,” Tamaki joins in on your laughter. “You’d have to start as a sidekick, really just think of it as the transition period before we get you to debut as a pro hero. But-,”
You can hear your blood rushing through your ear drums, flooding out whatever else Tamaki is saying. Start over? Can you do that, start from the beginning and rise up?
“We can even work together, it’d be- God, that’d be fantastic. I can see you more-,” Tamaki is getting excited, but all you can think of is how once again, you’ll just be overshadowed by the Suneater himself. You wonder if he can hear how hollow your voice sounds, when you tell him how great that’ll be.
A few days after the phone call at the training center, Tamaki tells you that his mission was extended and he won’t be home until the end of the month. You can’t sleep hours later after you told him goodnight, and decide to go on a run. The sound of your feet hitting the pavement helps drown out your thoughts. Lately you’ve been so preoccupied with transferring agencies as soon as Tamaki gets home, that you’ve almost forgotten your soulmate dilemma.
Almost.
You run faster to avoid thinking about it, about him. You’re totally not thinking about him, and you’re doing an excellent job not thinking about him that you run into the asshole.
“Fuck,” you barely feel the scrape on your knee before activating your quirk to save yourself. “Sorry, I-”
“You’d think that with your quirk, you wouldn’t bump into anyone, Bambi.” This time, it’s amusement and not annoyance that he says this sentence to you for a second time in your life. Kat- Dynamite holds out his hand, looking down at you with a faint smirk as you graciously take it. You activate it again, switching places so that you’re looking down at him instead.
“You’d think that with your attitude you’d be at the bottom of the popularity poll.” There’s no malice in your tone, and instead you find yourselves smiling at the other. You help him up easily before cleaning off yourself.
“You’re stronger than you look,” Bakugou compliments. Many thought that, and even had said that to you, and while most times it irks you, this time you feel pride.
“I’ve been training.” You stand taller.
“I’ve noticed.” It’s dark, but you swear the tips of his ears start to go red.
“Yeah?” You smile, and if anyone would’ve called it out, they might call it flirty. “Didn’t realize you’ve been watching.”
“Shaddup,” He laughs and crosses his arms, one still clad in the compression sleeve, the ropes of muscle more prominent in his chest and biceps. “Everyone has been noticing.”
“Really,” you cross your arms and grin. “Everyone?”
“Ever since Elf Ears fucked off on his mission, everyone has noticed you been trolling for night shifts.” He’s right of course, not that you’d freely admit to him. Your restless energy has boiled over and you’ve been picking up more shifts. Shamefully you’ve felt free.
“Not tonight, though.” Tap your shoes against the sidewalk, ready to run. Whatever confidence you had in front of him is fading quickly, and your head is dizzy with the scent of caramel and musk wafting from him.
“No.” Bakugou agrees, watching you carefully. “Not tonight.”
Electricity pulses through the space between you both, and you decide it’s time to end this interaction.
“You okay?” He asks again. The familiar pangs of distress and love floods into your chest and guilt starts to sting you at your core.
Yes. “No.”
“My shift just ended,” Bakugou says nonchalantly, shrugging. “Want to get a drink?”
No . “Yes.”
-(-)-
Drinks didn’t mean what you thought. You and Bakugou walked down the lamp lit streets in silence. A third person could walk between you both, you thought to yourself. You made sure to not pay any attention to his frame, you tried your best to not compare him to your fiancé. All day you haven’t heard from Tamaki, not that you expected him to contact you during a mission. But as you and Katsuki walk to get drinks, you realize it’s the first time in months that you haven’t been riddled with anxiety over your partner.
“This isn’t a bar,” you step through the tea shop and give Katsuki a passing look.
“Never said it was, Bambi.” Your heart flutters at the nickname, yet you don’t give any of it away as you look around the tea shop. His eyes watch you taking it in, the decor that’s been outdated for about thirty years already and the countless porcelain tea cups being reflected by the hanging lights. “Pick a cup, then pick a tea.” Katsuki grabs a ceramic yunomi painted with the colors of a sunset. You bite back a smile, remembering how much he favored the color orange back in school. Not much has changed.
“Hōchija, please.” He sets his cup down and gives a polite nod to the younger boy behind the wooden counter.
Your eyes scan across the once white now faded yellow menu, “May I get the sencha please?”
It’s quiet aside from the music playing the top 100 over the speakers, and then both of you take a seat at the bar. The younger barista hums while measuring out the dried tea leaves, the two of you doing your best to ignore the warmth from your shoulders touching lightly. A few minutes pass and your yunomi is handed back filled with hot tea, it’s heat spreads across the palm of your hand and you ignore the way it stings. It’s delicious.
“This is amazing,” you give a smile to your barista and he bows his head with a shy smile. “How did you hear about this place?”
Bakugou sets his tea back down and you catch the smell of charcoal, vaguely you wonder if it’s the remnants of his shift and you inch closer. “My pops would take me here,” Katsuki’s voice is low and you lean in to catch his words. “It’s the only damned place that we went to that didn’t involve someone screaming at each other. He told me once, ‘Katsuki-chan every cup you drink is one drink closer, I hope, to calming the fuck down.’” Your snort is sudden and loud, and while you struggle to keep your laughter down, you miss the way Katsuki smiles at you before taking another sip of his tea.
“Did it work?” You smile at him, not wanting to think about your chest warming and deciding it’s from the tea.
“I think so.” He answers truthfully, this time he glares when you laugh. “What?” Bakugou sets his tea cup down almost too roughly on the wooden counter, and you notice the same compression band on his left arm still.
Shaking your head and holding your hands up to your defense, you giggle. “The amount of articles I’ve read of the ‘Great Dynamite Hero’-,” your fingers mine the air quotes, “-having his blowouts. It’s hilarious.”
“Didn’t realize you were keeping track of me.” Your eyes look up and find that his are already tracing your features, the curve of your jaw and the tip of your nose. How long have you been this close to him? Close enough to see that he hasn’t slept in a while and close enough to briefly wonder if his lips would taste like burned sugar too.
“I haven’t been. You’re usually on the front page,” your voice wobbles and you shift farther from him. “Tamaki and I like to read the paper together.” At the sound of your fiancé’s name, Bakugou gives a slight nod and shifts back too. Your fingers ghost over your ring. You catch him looking at the silver band briefly. Subconsciously you wish you haven’t said anything at all, and you swipe your thumb over your ring.
The conversation dies, and when Bakugou pays, you go home to try and sleep.
-(-)-
“What happened to your soulmate?” You ask Tamaki, who has gotten back from his trip now, over breakfast. You watch his face wince, the pain of her loss still stinging even after decades. Shame takes its place quickly over the jealousy you feel for him, to have someone you love so much that every piece of you belongs to them and them you.
“She… died. In a car accident.” Tamaki picks at his pancakes, doused in maple syrup. “When we were five.”
Shame burns hotter for you now. “That young?” Tamaki nods, taking a bite of the breakfast he made for you both. “You must’ve barely met her by that point.”
He smiles sadly, “She used to be in my class with Mirio and I. At first, I thought I was just having dreams about school. I used to beg my parents to not send me to bed, I would get hives just thinking about school being in my dreams again.”
“How did you know she was your soulmate?” You think back to all the times in your life that you’ve asked this question. To your partners over the years who didn’t have their soulmates anymore or tried to cheat the system. The friends you had who swore to be single but fate gave them an emptiness to be filled by their love.
And now him. When you and Tamaki started dating, you had the talk with him. The talk you had with everyone. You don’t have a soulmate. You won’t be fatefully theirs, they won’t be yours. If you have an assigned soulmate, please don’t waste my time. The way he looked when you said this, the immensable sadness that washed over his features before giving you a small smile. His words were simple, enough to end the topic and enough to scare you from asking more. Well, good thing I don’t have a soulmate anymore.
“We talked for hours in our dreams,” he sighs at the memory. “I learned things about her that I couldn’t have known if I didn't actually talk to her, so it was pretty much solid. Mirio didn’t meet his soulmate in real life until after high school, they both decided to wait and then exchange numbers. He couldn’t stop jumping and cheering when he heard their voice on the receiver,” Tamaki laughs and looks back at you with a melancholy smile. “You also just know. It’s like suddenly, your body just isn’t yours. It feels like you’re being pulled to them and as much as you want to escape, you can’t run. You don’t want to.”
“What was her name?”
He pauses. “Shinju.” There’s a softness in his voice you haven’t heard before, and you wonder what Tamaki’s life would’ve been like if his soulmate hadn’t died. Maybe they’d even be heroes together, fighting villains side by side with an unspeakable bond that no one could penetrate. He wouldn’t have a partner who would settle for less out of fear of being let go for someone else. He wouldn’t have someone who is a shell of who they are, destined to-
Destined for what?
You don’t know what destiny has for you anymore. Before you were destined to be alone. But now Katuski appears in your dreams, sitting under fruit trees that you always wanted to have in your backyard, never facing you. Or he's by the ocean with waves softly crashing in front of him, warm sand underneath you both.
Before, you accepted that you would be alone. You refused for anyone to tell you that you must feel empty inside, for how else can anyone live without a beloved fucking soulmate? You told them to go fuck themselves, you proved them wrong by becoming a pro-hero despite having no natural goddamn cheerleader and you did it with a beaming ass smile and the ego that weighed more than what All Might could bench.
You were fine. You were happy.
Until you made yourself small.
You aren’t empty inside. You’ve made yourself small.
Tamaki was dreamy, he was shy and dreamy and sweet and romantic in all of his awkward ways. You allowed your light to be diminished under his shadow.
Because eventually, all those people pitying you for being so alone, got to you. You’re human after all, isn’t it normal to feel melancholy when you see a couple laughing and holding hands? Isn’t it normal to wish to have someone love all of you, imperfections included? Isn’t it normal to want to have somebody be there for you? Isn’t it normal to not want to go to bed and wonder what it is like to have someone hold you? You weren’t as tough as you thought. You felt like you let down those people you met in forums for those without soulmates, the civilians and heroes who never was bestowed a soulmate who said “Fuck them, I’m my own person” and never even wanted to date. They were complete because they had family, friends, a career, sexy one night stands. They could rely on themselves and no one else.
You don’t know where you fall anymore.
-(-)-
pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Female Reader
status: complete
length: 15,000 words | 4 chapters
summary: Ghosts aren’t real. At least, that’s what you tell yourself when the spirit of pro hero Dynamight suddenly starts haunting your apartment.
(A Halloween adventure, in which your cooking is criticized, your showers are rudely interrupted, and you must work together with Bakugou Katsuki to figure out if his disappearance is a trick–or a treat.)
tags/warnings: romance, Halloween, snarking, (not actual) character death, aged up characters, eventual smut
chapter links:
one
two
three
four
cross-posted on ao3: here
Warnings: +18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! This series contains: HEAVY Noncon, smut, bullying, manhandling, penetration, binding, threatening, creampie, breeding kink degradation, humiliation, abuse, violence, anxiety, spoilers, trauma, bruises, choking, spit play, cussing, dirty talk, oral sex (m.receiving) cum swallowing, semi public, noncon selfie, mention of alcohol, manipulation
Summary: After joining the League of Villains, you started facing bullying from a certain arsonist. Little by little the harassment grew to the point of physical violence that culminated to you being his personal fucktoy.
A.N.: If there’s any warnings missing, please let me know!
Disclaimer: Characters mentioned belong to Kohei Horikoshi
Part 1.
Part 2.
Part 3.
Part 4.
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Bakugou Katsuki x Female Reader
Work In Progress AO3
I write for attention. <3
A complicated villain takedown puts Bakugou Katsuki in a cumbersome position with the Hero Safety Commission. To appease the commission, Bakugou reluctantly agrees to enter an arranged marriage with you, the quirkless daughter of a prominent member on the commission. Now you and Katsuki have to figure out how to live and maybe even learn to love someone you don't truly know.
Warnings:
R-18 Adults Only, Explicit Content, Arranged Marriage, Fluff, Comfort, Strangers to Lovers, Gradual Romance, Eventual Smut, Tsunder Bakugou Katsuki, Female Reader, Loving Sex, Sweet Sex
Chapter 1 - The Catch of The Lure
The warm scent of freshly printed paper and the still silence of an empty office made for a boring wait, especially if you were a pro hero strongly accustomed to action. The drone of professional gray walls, chill of metal filing cabinets, and the reek of power from a fancy polished desk told the young hero that person who occupied this office was powerful but most likely impotent. On top of that, the office jackass was making the hero waiting damn near forever to talk about damage control. Inconsiderate bastard.
Finally, the door opened and the overcompensating ass himself walked in. "About damn time!" The young hero growled, his piercing red eyes shooting the older man a death glare. "I've been waiting for damn near an hour."
"My apologies, young Bakugou," The drawl of his false regret caused Bakugou's eye to twitch as the man moved past Bakugou's chair to sit at his desk, "it's quite a mess out there, you know."
"Of course I damn know!" Bakugou huffed, running a hand through his spikey, blonde locks. "I got stuck in the middle of all that damn shit and there was nothing I could do to stop it!"
"Yes, quite an unfortunate turn of events. It's a shame but also understandable, you were off-duty and were ill-prepared for dealing with the chaos. It is a bit of a complex situation but I think I can manage to resolve with minimal damage." The man's tone dripped with satisfaction and Bakugou couldn't help the feeling that somehow this guy had something over him and planned to use it against him. "I can have this whole little 'incident' cleared up for you in no time, but in return I have a request to make of you."
Bakugou let out an exasperated sigh, "Of course you do. Well, what the hell do you want?"
The smsug smile on the office bastards face made Bakugou's skin crawl. "Why, I'm so glad you asked. I've noticed that throughout your entire high school and rookie hero career, you've never had yourself a pretty little lady to swoon on your shoulder. Now that could be because you're waiting for the right little lady or maybe you feel as though you don't have time for petty relationships with your line of work and wanting to be number one, but I have my own theories... Personally, I think you just lack the drive for it. Instead of pursuing girls like most men, you chase after power and success. I've heard a few rumors that you're simply not interested in the opposite sex, but I think if that were the case you would have made a move on that Red Riot you used to go to school with. Either way-"
"Is there a point behind all this or do you just like hearing yourself talk?" Bakugou interrupted, disliking how the man brought up his love life. Lack the drive? Bakugou's blood boiled. Unlike this impotent ass I don't need some random bitch to help me get off! Just 'cause I'm not chasing horny ass females like a dog in heat doesn't mean I'm impotent. And what the hell is he implying about me and Kirishima? Who the hell does he think he is? He'd never admit it, but he had always thought of Kirishima as a brother. He'd never thought of his red-haired friend in that manner before.
The man tapped his fingers on his desk and eyeing Bakugou and taking into account the blonde's obvious aggravation. He considered his next words carefully. "Yes, I suppose I should be getting to the point. I, and many of my colleagues, are not particularly thrilled at the idea of helping you clean up this mess, nor are we obligated to. That said, I'm willing to resolve the outside issue for you if you agree to marry my daughter."
"You want me to do what?" Bakugou blinked, knowing full well what he'd heard but wanting to confirm it.
"Marry my daughter." A slimy, satisfied smile plastered the bastard's face. He turned a photo on his desk for Bakugou to see. "Marrying her off to a powerful, young hero is my best course of action for making sure she is cared for when I'm gone. You see, she's quirkless so she needs someone strong with a good head on his shoulders to take care of her."
Bakugou stared at the photo, the young woman in the picture wasn't terrible looking. Plain, [s/c] skin and simple, [h/c] hair framing a shy face with [e/c] eyes. She didn't look like she would be a bitch, she kind of looked like a nerd. Like damn Deku. He glanced back at her bastard father. What if she was like him? "What happens if I don't marry her?" He had to weigh all his options. Even if she wasn't horrible to look at and had a decent personality, he still wasn't overly fond of marrying a complete stranger.
"Well, let's just say without me to help clean up the mess then you'll likely lose your hero license and any chance at being a hero down the road. No one else will help you, especially if I tell them I tried to help you and you turned me down. Add to that the fact that you aren't exactly equipped with the tools for fixing this mess and your chances at getting everything resolved disappear completely and leave you and your hero career in the dust."
Bakugou stiffened, sparks popping from his hands. "I didn't do anything wrong!"
"True, but the public won't see it that way." The man pointed out smugly, clearly not intimidated by the little explosions going off. " If it helps, you can think of it this way-you don't necessarily have to love her, just marry her and take care of her for the deal to be in place. If she doesn't satisfy your needs or neither of you are interested then just get you a little honey to keep on the side."
A long moment of silence passed before Bakugou spoke again, his head spinning. He hated how nonchalant the bastard was about implying having multiple girls to satisfy different needs. It certainly didn't feel right, but if he wanted to become the number one hero then he couldn't afford to lose his hero license even if only for a short while. With a defeated sigh he asked, "When do we get married?"
— viking!bakugou x f!reader
synopsis: your childhood best friend also known as your tailor comes to visit! bakugou doesn’t trust him at all.
warnings: 18+ content, minors don't interact, ageless blogs don't interact, female reader, referred to: (baby, my lady), arranged marriage, lovey dovey, 69, unprotected sex, fingering (f), p to v, chief kink lol, whole load of kissing, big three: (angst, fluff, smut), jealousy, mentions of violence, viking themes are light and inspired, modern language.
notes: PART FOUR to FOR YOU MY VIKING BKG SERIES!! can be read as a standalone. if there’s typos this was a one man job! thank u kanye for that one line, i had to steal it. lets go girls.
forget everything you said before. fiancé, almost wed life, was fun. dreamlike. a fantasy come to life. your fiancé, head chief of your new village bakugou katsuki, or to you, ‘ki, drags you into the warm cocoon of his arms all while being half asleep.
“dunno what you’re dreamin’ about to somehow find your way out of my arms,” the chief grunts, deep and musky. you inhale the junction between his neck and shoulder, muffling a giggle in his skin. his newly scarred arm wraps around your waist and you can feel every bump and groove of his body against you. him sleeping naked and you in one of his old cotton tunics does that.
“i’m dreaming about you, chief.”
bakugou feels you smiling, the tilt of your voice at his title. he pinches your side, making you yelp though there’s nowhere to go in his arms.
“here we go with the chief shit. you want my dick this early?”
his words are so harsh, rough but make your insides tingle all the same. you rock your body against his and there’s no hiding how he’s feeling.
“it feels like you want me this early actually.”
when you start to wriggle in his arms, bakugou loosens his grip, letting you shift to sit on his lower stomach. you love his gaze on you. ruby eyes study your bare shoulder from where his tunic dropped, the slope of your neck, your bare hips from where the fabric sits. you don’t need him to say he adores you because you can feel it.
“aren’t i lucky to marry you.”
it’s not a question, a statement. he bites down on his bottom lip, dragging it slowly between his teeth then letting it go. you run your hands over his bare chest at the same time large rough palms sit on your thighs. you sigh at the sight of the bandage on his left forearm.
“does it still hurt?”
bakugou glances down at his arm like he forgot he was even injured.
“nothin’ hurts when you’re near me.”
you roll your eyes and he squeezes your hips in response, rocking you slightly onto his cock. he presses between your ass cheeks, your next breath shaky.
“c-can you just be honest with me? we should get it checked out again today so it doesn’t get infected.”
his cock twitches, the left corner of his mouth rising.
“i’ve never lied to you—,”
“you did last week when you said there were no cinnamon buns left in the bakery.”
“that wasn’t a lie if i brought them all back home. is it, princess?”
“but—,”
“nuh-uh. none in the bakery wasn’t a lie ‘cause there wasn’t.” two hands drag you by the hips back and forth over his cock. just the feeling of him between your legs makes you hum though when his head brushes your clit, your whole body buzzes.
“tell me i’m not a liar, princess.”
his voice is smooth, butter melting over pancakes. you feel him thickening. you’re chasing the pleasure trying to flick your hips but he’s in control. it feels like he’s in control of your lips too when you say, “you’re not a liar.”
your eyes fall shut and you can’t help but lean forward to arch your back, hands pressing into the pillow on either side of his head.
“f-fuck,” you moan, your centre warm with a desire to be filled. if he’d just let you lift your hips, you could slide him right inside, “ki, i want you.”
“i know you do, baby,” his hand caresses your cheek, lifting your head to slot your mouth against his. his tongue slides into your mouth and it’s so overwhelming. your nose nudges against his and you practically inhale each other, licking as much as you can of him.
he does it without too much movement, that if you didn’t want it so bad you wouldn’t have noticed. your hips lift an inch before you sink down onto your fiancé.
you sigh into his mouth, cradling his head with your forearms. “oh i needed this.”
“you had this yesterday,” his chuckle surrounds you, sexy and loving.
you flick your hips up and down, chasing whatever feels good. in response, it makes him feel good too with the inescapable speed his hips match yours with.
“so?”
your place your lips on his neck, licking and sucking down on a spot. his neck is the most sensitive, he didn’t need to tell you for you to find out. it’s not too soon before his pace quickens, the wooden bed frame slamming against the wall. you guys have never cared for the noise since you’re on the top floor.
“you’re fuckin’ bliss, princess,” he grumbles, pulling you from his neck back onto his mouth.
his favourite, coming while his tongue is down your throat.
your breath is shaky, your hips jolting as electricity shoots through your limbs. it’s heavenly, the sides of him pressing against your walls, the feeling of your lover coming inside you too.
bakugou’s trembling through his orgasm, still trying to kiss you through it before giving into his release.
“ugh, fuck.”
he’s too sensitive, you can tell when he starts to get twitchy so you slowly roll off him.
“we needa get you off those herbs, lemme put a baby in ya,” bakugou mumbles, wiping the thin layer of sweat off his forehead. you snuggle into his side, ignoring the wetness between your legs for the time being.
“okay, man who’s life isn’t going to be frozen for nine months and life will change forever after. give me a few years,” you laugh breathlessly, sitting up to pull off your tunic from the heat.
eyes float over your chest and you’re addicting. bakugou presses kisses on the tops of your breasts.
“i know, i know,” he whispers and you brush the blonde strands drooping onto his forehead back. his ruby eyes get darker in such intimate times, meeting yours in a mutual ground. “just lookin’ forward to our life together.”
you hum but a smile breaks out nevertheless. “so cute. you like me that much!”
now you’re greeted with rolled eyes but not for too long until his lips circle your nipple. your back arches instantly, your breath hitching.
“like? yeah, i like you so much,” he deadpans, not giving you a chance to reply before finding your nipple again and sucking hard.
moans ripple out your mouth, “you’re gonna make me—,”
“chief? my lady?” three knocks shake the room and bakugou’s “hah?” leaves him without control.
your house staff rarely ever get onto your and bakugou’s floor, so this must be an emergency? you sit up abruptly and bakugou lifelessly falls back on the bed beside you in a huff.
“y-yes?” your body hears for a whole other reason. did they hear everything? oh god.
“just to remind you both, my lady’s guest will be arriving in a few moments if their travels have gone to plan.”
“oh my god, i forgot all about that! yes, we will be out in a sec!” you call.
bakugou’s still groaning, “will we be?”
you shove his side but he barely moves, taking hold of your hand. “we’re still gonna visit the doctor for your arm.”
“yes, my lady.”
what you have forgotten to tell your fiancé was how your old villages dress tailor was absolutely in love with you. bakugou was expecting an old man to walk through those doors. instead he finds that imaginary man’s son, around the same age as you both, smiling like he’s been blessed with fresh meat from a raid.
your presence does make one feel like that though. especially with how you look, freshly showered, a simple white flowy dress on, smelling like this new lavender honey soap he stole from a few towns over. you practically jump in this man’s arms and there’s not a second where this man isn’t touching you.
arms around your waist, then holding your forearms, then your hands.
“benji! i didn’t think i’d be seeing you today! where’s your father?” until you take a step back in shock, “why are you taller and so… muscular?”
you’re that close with him? bakugou’s met a few of your friends and this 6 foot, well built, floppy haired guy was not included. he doesn’t even realise he’s grinding on his molars with his eyes fixated on this man, benji’s, fucking hands.
when you think back to old benji, or actually younger benji, you remember a scrawny haired kid. skinny and not yet built for his body. shy smiles when you’d see his father for a fitting or when he’d come to your home to deliver a dress. that nervous cute boy is definitely not who is before you. his clothes fit him tightly in a purposeful way, definition in his biceps and even his neck is thicker. he’s not as big as your fiance but he’s definitely on the way to it. you can’t stop looking him up and down.
“father caught a cold, nothing too serious!” he exclaims once your eyes find his again. the old benji’s blush paints his cheeks at your attention. bakugou’s sure if he left the room this loser would try and put moves on you. brown eyes gazing all over your face like he’s trying to find what’s changed since you left, “so i’m sorry to say you’re stuck with me for this fitting.”
you laugh, your cute airy one that makes bakugou feel warm, “stuck! definitely not stuck with the best tailor villages have seen for years.”
benji’s fucking eyes twinkle and bakugou thinks that’s enough, stepping forward to remind everyone he’s fucking here too.
you lean back into your fiancé, benji’s hands falling from yours, “benji, this is katsuki, my fiancé! he looks mean but trust me he’s a teddy bear.”
you seem to forget that he’s only like that with you because bakugou is only staring at this man with pure warning, playing out in his head taking this guy in a fight. he’d win with no weapons. his jaw is gritted, chains around his neck and just a normal shirt. bakugou looks a little terrifying not even in his chief clothing.
benji nods at bakugou with a little bow. he half laughs, “i don’t think i get first name privileges, right?”
“yes!” “no.”
you and bakugou say at the same time. you glance up at him with a frown and bakugou avoids your gaze still trying to work out this benji, who’s going to be touching all over your body for the sake of measurements.
“nice to meet you, chief. we’ve all missed yn back home.”
bakugou wants to snap, she’s at home here and doing perfectly fuckin’ fine without you. but benji hasn’t said anything rude or wrong. anyone would miss you. he misses you when he wakes up before you.
so he sticks to silence, just a nod in response.
he respects how this guy holds eye contact with him and keeps this polite demeanour, or whatever the fuck he’s doing. small smile and bright eyes before locking eyes with you and both get bigger. bakugou hates this guy.
“okay well. i was planning on taking you around for a tour of the village for a catch up and then we can get back here to start measuring? i’m sure i’m different now with all the food i’ve been eating here, i can take you to the bakery!” you turn to bakugou, finger hooking with his, “do you wanna come too?”
he wants to, to monitor this guy. make sure he’s not acting stupid around you and looking at you like he looks at you and— bakugou huffs internally. he trusts you.
“nah, you guys go. i’ve got shit to go through here. bring me back an blueberry tart, yeah?”
he ducks down for your lips to meet his cheek but he’s not taking any chances, gripping your chin to press his lips to yours. you’re a fool for your fiancé, forgetting anyone else is in the room on an average day when he touches you. your body presses against his, hands gripping his shirt as your head tilts to fit his. you taste like minty toothpaste and you find some apple on his tongue from one he devoured while walking down the stairs.
then it’s an embarrassing switch of you pulling away abruptly because you remember your audience. you look like a deer in headlights, about to apologise when benji, who’s shuffling on his feet, says, “married life, ey?”
“not yet!”
“i see.”
bakugou sees the twinkle in this stupid man’s eye again. just because there’s no wedding ring around your finger, he thinks he can just slither in. fuck no.
“c’mon, let’s go before they run out of blueberry tarts,” he grins.
bakugou bites his tongue. if it were anyone else all hell would have broke loose, the blade he keeps at his waist would be at this man’s neck. he could even take him out with a single punch at his temple. though, he doesn’t because you press a lasting kiss to bakugou’s cheek, whispering, “see you later, gorgeous.”
you don’t get to see your friends often, you moved villages for him. most of all he trusts you with his life and you can take care of yourself if anything happens.
“see you baby.”
he watches you and this new guy walk out his home in bubbling conversation and laughter.
bakugou trusts you!! he trusts you so much. he trusts you. he just doesn’t trust that guy. not at all and not even a little. though he doesn’t think he’d wanna face you if he gets caught following behind you both and you need to have a life outside of him. just not with benji.
so when the door slams shut, just knowing you’re nearby makes bakugou feel a whole lot better.
“home!”
“i didn’t think the blueberry tart would be that nice.”
that fucking guy.
“in here!” bakugou shouts and soon enough he hears your footsteps getting louder.
he’s sat at his grand round table alone, massive brown map before him with piles of books messily scattered. he’s got a pot of ink and his pen, making chicken scrawl notes for his next raid.
you slip through the door, the scent of sugared ginger filling his room made for conversations about bloodshed. there’s flowers in your hair, probably from the village kids and you’re practically dancing into the room. green streaks from grass are across the bottom of your skirt and you’re holding what looks like a pie wrapped in red gingham cloth.
“hello my lover,” you smile and bakugou hums with warmth.
you slide the pie on the table before wrapping your arms around his neck from the back. you press your cheek against his and bakugou holds your forearm.
“got you a blueberry pie, jennie said this is her new recipe and wanted her chief to taste it.” you say into his ear, pressing a kiss onto his cheek.
“thanks princess,” bakugou scrunches his nose, “how was your… catch up? how long you’ve known him for?”
he’s trying, he’s trying to sound normal. level headed. completely under control.
you laugh though and he knows he’s failed, “good! known his family all my life. his father’s made all my family’s clothes.”
bakugou huffs, “don’t fuckin’ like him.”
jealousy. your first time seeing it on him so you’re eating it up. “why?”
“he’s in love with you. all touchy, makin’ jokes. probably knows a bunch of shit about you i don’t,” bakugou runs a finger along the rough edge of his map. he’s not insecure, there’s nothing for him to be insecure about. the strongest, most feared man anybody has come across. until it comes to you.
“i don’t think he’s in love with me and he knows the old me. you’re gonna know me now and every version of me to come. right?”
bakugou sighs, pulling you into his arms. you’re glowing compared to him, sinking and gloomy. shiny eyes, glossy lips and your fingers scratching at his beard.
“yeah,” is all he says staring down at you. he licks his lips, “thanks for my pie.”
“no problem, gorgeous. i’m gonna go now, get measured.”
“he’s gonna see you naked?”
“well in my underwear.” you adjust to wiggle out of his grip.
bakugou groans loudly, “you couldn’t have had a female tailor? you know, like the average woman?”
“hey, if the man’s good at his job,” you shrug.
“and in love with you. another man who’s in love with you will be seeing you naked. fuck,” bakugou throws his head back on his chair, closing his eyes. he can literally feel his blood boil in his veins.
“not naked! again, in my underwear and he won't even be touching me, just with the tape!” you laugh, “and he’s not in love with me but if it bothers you so much you can sit with us?”
bakugou groans again, “nah, i can’t. i sound fuckin’ crazy. i don’t own you.”
“i am yours though,” you grin, backing up to leave. you’re holding onto the door ready to slip out.
“you are and i’m yours too,” he looks over at you, leaning back in his chair with a defeated raise of his brow. his arms are tense resting on his arm rests, showing in his beige fabric vest.
“that you are, gorgeous.”
bakugou can’t help it. he couldn’t concentrate on his work with the gnawing imagery of fucking benji touching you while you giggle away about something he should be hearing. and also he’s the chief, this is his village, he can do what he wants. so whilst wiping blueberry tart crumbs off his face, bakugou stomps towards the sound of melodic laughs and stupid quiet mumbles.
it’s a sight that if he wasn’t already prepared, would make bakugou switch into an immediate red rage. he’s not an animal but sometimes he’s trained to act like one however he knows this isn’t the time. especially when your eyes light up at his presence.
you’re in your simple baby blue laced trimmed underwear with this fucking man kneeling down at your feet, measuring your… ankles? what the fuck. benji has the measuring tape in his hand, paired with a pencil tucked behind his ear. bakugou notices a flash of alarm pass through benji’s eyes before trying to relax. bakugou can tell the guy can’t completely settle now he’s here. guess the chief thing has got some power.
“hey baby, have you finished the last plan?” you ask sweetly, standing up straighter by placing your hands on your hips.
you’re so beautiful. everyone knows it and bakugou knows you’d let him gaze over your body. your soft breasts and thighs. your smooth skin, highlighted against the blue and you’re standing so confidently, like you should. clearly comfortable with them both in the room.
bakugou grunts in reply, “yeah, think we’re gonna hold the chief captive. shove his staff in a room, don’t think he’s got too many. then knife to the throat, if all goes well.”
“if all goes well?”
bakugou glares down at benji, the look of alarm back through his eyes for a whole other reason. it’s like the words spilled out of him without realising though he won’t take back his surprise. he locks eyes with bakugou before jotting down some numbers in his notebook.
has he forgotten the respect which comes to talking to a chief in their village? does bakugou look like a fool? you don’t pay any mind though, breaking off a corner of a croissant and popping it in your mouth.
“it’s a fuckin’ raid. i’m not sure what you’re sayin’ here.” bakugou’s coaxing, curious for the reply.
“i know, chief. just is the violence necessary?”
bakugou laughs, loud yet lacking humour. what’s even more amusing is how you laugh too yet humour coats yours. benji looks between you both in confusion before wrapping his measuring tape around your thigh.
the sight has bakugou’s blood run hot. like his hands weren’t touching you there earlier. fuck, has he always been so possessive?
“how do you think your village gets shit? by sitting on their fuckin’ hands and waitin’?”
“we make deals.” then in a much lower tone, “i guess selling our ladies isn’t much better.”
there’s a pause in the room from you and your fiancé. frozen for a second before staring at each other. you in a ‘did he really just say that?’ and him in a ‘what the actual fuck?’
“what the fuck—,”
but bakugou’s voice means nothing to how you abruptly step back out of benji’s grasp. you’d think the switch in tension would urge you to cover up but you stand there as tall as ever with a seething glare.
“i wasn’t sold by anybody, benjamin. you didn’t think you were coming here to save me were you? is that what all the talk about how everyone misses me back home and you got a new horse was about?”
bakugou can’t help the “fuckin’ prick” that leaves his throat.
“your father gave you to a chief for a deal we won’t get raided,” benji replies, “if you weren’t a trade, what were you?”
you’re in stunned silence from all the things you can say. but benji takes that as a chance to continue, “you had dreams, yn! when we were little we wanted to travel, you wanted to study and you never wanted to marry! i know you wouldn’t want to marry a savage like that!”
benji’s pointer finger whips out to point at bakugou who raises an angry eyebrow. bakugou knows when to step in when you’re involved though he can’t help make the easy manoeuvre of yanking benji’s arm behind his back in a painful and awkward position.
benji yelps as he’s held against bakugou’s chest. “knew there was somethin’ fuckin’ weird with you.”
a few months ago, bakugou would have completely believed what benji said. felt shit about himself, believe you were forced to be by his side. but you’ve both been through that and it’s in the past. the only person who needs to know the truth is his him and you though apparently there’s a confused saviour in his hands.
you, on the other hand, squint at your childhood friend like he’s stupid. you let the man wiggle in bakugou’s grasp who holds him effortlessly despite his bruised arm.
“yn, please. we can go back together, say he was hurting you. i know he’s probably done worse,” benji spits out.
still in your underwear, you cross your arms and cock out a hip to stand comfortably.
“benji, i’m sorry but you’re sadly mistaken. did you not listen to anything i said during our walk or were you just fixated on your little plan to save me from my big bad husband?” you do a cocky pout at him, “i didn’t want to marry anybody at thirteen! though honestly, if i met katsuki then i probably would have.”
bakugou chuckles genuinely, chest bouncing as he grips benji even tighter. together, you ignore the annoying man’s yelps.
“to make this clear if i want to leave i can and i definitely wouldn’t need your help. katsuki is a dream and i am absolutely and devotedly in love with him, get that through your skull.” you sigh, another man who underestimates you. “you always loved making up stories that weren’t true.”
“i love you too,” bakugou chips in.
benji blinks rapidly, giving up on fighting out of bakugou’s grip. “i-i read about this in a book! they call it stockholm syndrome, when—,”
you hold out a hand, “i know what stockholm syndrome is and this isn’t the same circumstance. my life is beautiful here, if you listened at all to me on our walk you’d know. i love the people, my home, my husband. helping out, going on raids, a future family and yes benji, going to study too.”
weirdly, benji roars. it’s so out of character it makes you jump and bakugou snaps into action by shoving benji’s front into a wall so he can’t move.
“i was really looking forward to my new dresses.”
“i’ll find you a better tailor. i know one a good one few villages across.”
benji fights bakugou’s grip but he’s practically stuck between two walls now.
“yn, please. i can love you better than him.”
bakugou lifts him from the wall before pushing him against it again. “you can’t.”
you’re devastated, your childhood long friendship crumbling before you. benji’s wild eyes are trying to find yours, relate to something only you both know but you’re finding it hard to locate. he doesn’t know you anymore. you yank a tunic off the table to cover yourself up.
“go home, benji. don’t come back here and don’t visit me when i see my family.”
you sound as dejected as benji looks, eyes drooping and shoulders dropping. he looks nothing like how he did when you saw him last or even this morning. bakugou mumbles something in his ear before letting him go and suddenly, benji is shorter. smaller. creases in his clothes and his hair a sweaty mess.
“fine but if you ever need me, you know where i am.”
“i won’t.”
“leave now before i kill you.” bakugou states bored and everyone in the room is sure he’ll follow through.
two of bakugou’s men appear in the doorway, ready to escort benji out though bakugou thinks for a moment before following behind them.
bakugou finds you less than ten minutes later, sitting on the floor with your legs bent. you’re clearly in deep thought, lifting your head to your lover, “did you break his legs?”
bakugou nods, scrambling to sit on the floor beside you too. he’s uncharacteristically crossed legged to match how you’re feeling and your heart sings.
“nothing permanent just enough to not walk for a month.”
you smile but your voice is a sigh, “guess everyone is going to be talking about that then. yn’s brutal chief fiancé just broke poor benji’s legs.”
bakugou takes your hand in both of his, lifting to kiss your wrist. “i like the sound of that.”
bakugou’s smile makes you smile. you shake your head, “you know what i mean. i hate how everyone thinks i can’t handle you and i don’t care usually but how does everyone back home see me as so weak? especially, benji! i literally was in raids that got them food and fabric on his back!”
bakugou’s heart leaps in his chest. before he was the same, underestimating you. not believing you could handle his life, the violence and pain. but he knows better now. you’re shaking, chest heaving and bakugou is yet to see you cry. he’s never around people crying not because of him. he opens up his arms and you harshly throw your hand up. “no, i’m not about to cry.”
your voice cracks on the last syllable so bakugou shoves you in his arms anyway. your head rests on his shoulders as his arms circle you.
“it’s okay, baby,” he mumbles.
“i know. i love it here and i love you. of course, it’s okay,” your voice is a watery mess and bakugou laughs. “just wanted new dresses.”
“i’ll get you some. tell me more about him.”
“benji? i could tell you hated him when i introduced him.” you wipe your nose on bakugou’s tunic. he doesn’t care.
“wanted to kill him, still do. okay, tell me about you when you were thirteen.”
you shuffle so you’re sat comfortably in his lap, legs over his thighs, your hand running up his arm.
“you first.”
bakugou huffs but it’s always give and take with you. “i was stupid and smart at the same time. smarter than everyone else but not as smart as i thought i was. got into trouble sneaking into other villages but mostly to just observe how other people lived. got into fights loads, couldn’t handle my own temper. my father was a soft chief, everyone wondered how i was his offspring but only because they never met my mother. she was everything.”
bakugou pauses. “i wish i could have met them,” you whisper.
“i wish you could’ve too,” then he grunts, “your turn.”
“i got into my fair share of fights too,”
“adorable.” you frown at your lover who still grins at you, “everythin’ you do is gonna be adorable to me. face it or leave.”
you put your hand in his face in defiance though he just kisses your palm.
“i loved studying and reading. sitting in with my father and his men. cooking with our servants but mostly eating. i was close to benji, he’d come with his father to alter and deliver new clothes. our parents would let us play together because they respected his father.” you shrug, “he didn’t know all of me even then. i never told him what i knew about raids because he always seemed too kind for that type of violence. he wouldn’t have understood.”
you look up and bakugou who’s hanging onto every word. “that’s why we do what we do. so our people don’t have to.”
you bite down on your lip and nod. he’s all warm and cosy, your new definition of home. you hold eye contact for as long as possible before his caramel scent drags you in for a kiss. at first it’s just a press of lips. connecting to one before you start shifting around on his lap. bringing one leg to the other side of his waist. chest to chest, legs around his waist. your centre pressed directly against his hardness.
you cock a brow and your handsome chief fiancé shrugs, “you’re beautiful and sittin’ on me.” and that’s enough of a reason.
you tighten your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist without a sliver of air inbetween. then lastly, your lips lock with open mouths. pants and moans and flicks of your hips. calloused hands rub your sides then over your ass, squeezing each cheek with just the right amount of pain that you sigh against his tongue. you’re sucking on him, tilting your head for the best angle as your hands grip at his shirt then his hair. your nipples harden and the friction against your underwear and his rough slacks has you feeling equal parts hopeless and hopeful yet completely needy.
“and people think you can’t fuckin’ handle me. wanna prove them wrong for me, princess?” his hand only leaves your ass to scrape his hair off his forehead and you’re mush for him.
you feel like the human version of unscrewing a tight jar of jam. before you get to dip your finger in the sweetness, you have the sweet release of simply opening the jar. the offer he gives to do anything to him. the pop has you straightening your spine and nodding.
“yes,” you sniff and you’re sure you must look like a kitten begging for a treat with blown out pupils. “lay back for me.”
bakugou does what he’s told, but not before yanking off his shirt and grabbing a pillow off the nearest chair to stuff it behind his head.
“is this my life now? wantin’ to murder anybody who looks at you?” his voice is a grumble laced with arousal as you shuffle to pull off the shirt you threw on earlier. back in your baby blue underwear. you decide to keep it on.
“only when they want to take me away from you,” you whisper, touching his jaw with the tips of your fingers and laying two pecks on his lips.
he’s greedy though, going in again for more.
“i can promise you that. nobody’s gonna be takin’ you away from me.” the words float between both your lips and the next kiss confirms it in a promise.
“good,” is all you remember to say. then, “don’t hate me, i want to try a new position.”
bakugou raises an eyebrow though lets you do as you please.
you rotate around so your back is to him and his length is right before you. you’re quick to shuffle down his trousers and he lifts his hips to help you.
“prefer seein’ your face,” he only mumbles because as much as that’s true he does enjoy your ass bouncing in his face.
you only laugh, your mouth is about to start watering any second. your husb— fiancé, is stunning. fucking everywhere. he’s leaking already, thick, hard and intimidating. you run your finger along a particularly hard vein. he twitches.
“babe, no.”
he’s stern like he’s reprimanding you but the way his hips lean into your touch tell a different story.
“shush katsuki,” is all you mumble as you slide your ass back so you’re sitting on his collarbones and you lean forward to take him all in your mouth.
it makes you sigh in relief. he’s only got his hands on your calves but him in your mouth makes you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. you never thought you’d become a woman who wants to please a man but you guess that was before you met bakugou.
“f—fuck,” he stutters and you can imagine his face right now. eyes clenched shut, biting down on his bottom lip and looking completely beautiful. “you’re so good to me baby.”
the praise has you rolling, literally. you bob your head up and down, just how he likes. it’s noisy and a little messy. sucking when you get to the top and hollowing out your cheeks. if he asks you won’t admit you’re doing this completely for yourself, maybe to prove you can handle him. the jolts of his hips down your throat. even the fact your gag reflex seems to disappear around him. a couple chokes here and there but nothing you can’t handle.
until two hands find your ass and your privates are against a wet warm tongue.
you pull him out your mouth immediately, your forehead landing on his hip. your hips aren’t yours anymore, grinding on your fiancé’s face for any bit of the golden pleasure that warms you.
“oh, oh,” is all you manage.
“keep my cock in your mouth or you’re not comin’,”
“mean,” a slap lands on your ass, “hey! i didn’t say no!”
then there’s a grunt before lips circle your clit, bakugou’s way of ending the conversation and you welcome it.
it’s loud and wet. loud mostly from you moaning on his dick and then him jolting every time you do. he doesn’t need to add any fingers since you’re doing more than perfectly fine every time his tongue traces your hole and prods inside.
you’re in heaven, everything that happened earlier completely forgotten. it’s nothing in this moment of time.
especially when bakugou, pulls your pussy off his face to breathe and warn you, “i’m gonna come, baby.” like you couldn’t tell already. you just push your hips back onto his face to silence him.
he huffs a laugh, “okay, okay.”
you keep your hand circled at his base, another lightly squeezing at his balls. you keep breathing out your nose as you do a particularly long suck just at the same time he does to your clit. you don’t need to announce you’re close too, he knows.
as soon as you release your jaw, he lets go. shooting down your throat which you completely lap up. bakugou grips each ass cheek harshly as he does, his mouth losing all meaning as he comes, hanging open stupidly.
that’s fine as him coming only makes you come. your body shaking as heat ripples through you.
“fuck,” he spits and when his mind starts to clear, he pushes two fingers inside of you.
you yelp in surprise, pulling him out your mouth, “oh my—,”
he jabs them in and out with a skill you don’t even possess on yourself. his fingers curl to rub against your walls and it all makes your orgasm grow. it attacks your body, making you unsure whether to push back onto him or run away.
you’re not in the right state to wipe your mouth as you make a sound you never knew you could.
it’s a mix between a squeak and scream before you roll out of his grip to lay beside him on the ground. chest heaving, sweaty with dried substances on your face. no better way to be.
bakugou sits up first to look down at you. he licks the corner of his thumb to clean up your face.
“missed your face,” he breathes and you genuinely believe him. three words said in a relieved exhale. “beautiful.”
you’re unsure why it makes you shy, especially after just having his dick down your throat. he ducks down to kiss you and you accept it immediately. you taste yourself on his tongue and you’re sure he tastes himself too.
“missed you too.” the only right thing to say at this moment.
“fuck, we’re so soppy,” he chuckles, refusing to look away from your eyes. it’s so intimate, his naked body beside you, his fingers finding yours and linking softly.
you hold his cheek in your palm, “don’t think i’ve forgotten about your arm. i’m going to tell sophie to get your doctor to come over tonight.”
your chief pouts. it’s a sight worth painting.
“fine. happy wife, happy life.”
“don’t you forget it.”
Summary: Zuko asked you to stay in the Fire Nation so he could come back to a friendly face, and you more than fullfil your promise.
Word Count: 550
Author’s Note: Two sequels back to back? A girl is on some emotional bullshit. This is the epilogue for From Eden - I sort left it open for a little continuation, and I just read an incredible fic that also ripped my beating heart from my chest and held it sadisicially in front of my face, so I decided to jot down a little 3AM tenderness. Enjoy.
~ Muerta
“When I do leave… will you stay? So I have at least one friendly face to come back to someday?”
Zuko’s words ricocheted around your head as you flew between the buildings of the imperial city, your feet carrying you faster than you ever thought they could run. The moment you heard about his confrontation with Azula, you were gone, not even waiting for the messenger to finish his sentence before you darted through the threshold of your quarters and into the humid late summer air, orange sunlight slanting the shadows of the world around you as it guided you forward.
The war was over. Ozai was defeated.
As you approached the gates of the palace, the guards stationed outside didn’t pause to question you - instead they stepped aside, allowing you to rush past without suspicion or inquiry. Zuko sent for you, he knew you were coming, yet you still felt as if you couldn’t reach him fast enough, like the only thing that could truly bring you back together was to see each other, unimpeded by distance at last.
You crashed through the doors of the royal infirmary, panting wildly with sweat dripping down your face, soaking through the collar and back of your tunic.
Your childhood protector stood by the room’s open window, his torso wrapped in bloodstained bandages and draped with a silken robe. He snapped his attention toward you, startled at first by the sudden intrusion, his gaze easing with relief the moment his eyes met yours.
“Zuko!”
You flung yourself into his arms and he caught you, unaware of the pain that shook his body as you slammed into the burns in his chest. His arms viced around your waist, fingers digging into the fabric of your shirt and the skin beneath it as he clutched you to him, face buried in the crook of your neck. You took in a quivering breath, breathing in the scent of him as sobs began to shake you; smoke from the hearth of a sturdy house filled your lungs.
“You’re okay,” you whispered into Zuko’s neck. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
For ages, you and Zuko held each other, knuckles white and bodies sore with the tightness of your grip. Zuko’s fingers knotted themselves in your hair, while your face nestled deeper into the space between his jaw and shoulder, tears raining on his exposed skin. He said nothing, simply hushed you in the calming way he used to do when you were children.
You missed him. Spirits, had you missed him.
When you finally pulled away, Zuko rested his palms at either side of your head, the heat of his skin warming your cheeks while his thumbs stroked over your cheekbones. He gazed at you deeply, with an expression you’d never seen in him before, his eyes lidded yet somehow agape, lips slightly parted as he still held you close.
“I missed you,” he rasped. “I was so worried… I missed you. I love you.”
Before his words had even fully pieced together in your mind, your hands rose to his neck and pulled him to you, moulding your lips to his in a desperate kiss. He kissed you back, and you felt as if a painting left unfinished were finally completed.
Zuko was home.
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Gojo Satoru
TW: angst ig
gn reader
Gojo has loved you forever.
When the two of you were toddlers, he was never shy about kissing you and holding your hand. It was only when the two of you began school that he was taught that it wasn’t proper – a schooling that made him frown.
But his love for you never dimmed despite it. Growing up, he became nothing shy of a true bully pulling his crush’s pigtails. He’d flash his six-eyes and limitless techniques and tease you for your subpar cursed energy – often rescuing you like a faux knight in shining armor.
But despite acting like your older brother – he’s really been dreaming of you in carnal ways ever since he first found out what sex was.
Which is why he’d sling his arm around your shoulder when you were talking with other guys – having grown up so tall, he’d have to all but bow in order to level with the small fries – a sly smirk on his lips with his shades low on his nose.
“Ah – I didn’t know you had a boyfriend – I’m sorry.” They’d always stutter – feeling the chills of those icy blues pierce through to their bones.
“Ugh, Gojo – get off – you’re too heavy.” You’d argue in a familiar whine, shoving at his lanky shape – already fuming. “He’s not my boyfriend – he’s just a dumbass with no respect for personal space.”
“Oh – I’m more than that~” He’d insist. “Y’know, we got married on the playground when we were six.”
You’d roll your eyes at his attics. Huffing out a growl at him. But no amount of clenched fists and angry brows could hide the embarrassment. And ultimately, no guy really dared try their luck with you after being introduced to the white-haired childhood friend giving them death glares.
Which is why it’s baffling when he finds out about the wedding.
He’d seen you less and less over the years. He’d been busy as the newly awakened honored one – new missions almost every day.
You’d capped out as a second-grade sorcerer and decided to become a teacher in Kyoto – sent out on missions every now and again, but mostly just to supervise students.
He’d been glad you settled on something safe and not something you’d sooner end up being killed – like him. But he wasn’t overly fond that you’d chosen Kyoto over Tokyo where he could keep an eye on you.
But he supposes that’s exactly why you’d done it.
He knows he coddles you – knows you’ve always hated it – knows you hate it because you know he’s right to do it – knows you’d be dead if it weren’t for him.
How could you marry someone else? How could you choose anyone other than him?
He doesn’t respond to the invite. Doesn’t answer when you call.
He’s gone for several months.
You know through the assistant supervisors that he’s still accepting missions – out on the prowl, killing curses – doing little else.
You try to deny knowing why he’s upset. You love him like family, but he’s always been a child with too many toys – you, one of them. This is him throwing a fit over someone else taking what’s his.
But you know he’ll come to his senses after cooling off. You know he’ll be at the wedding – all smiles – if not happy, then pretending for your sake.
In all his strange ways, you know that he loves you. And despite being childish, you know he’ll do the adult thing and let you go.
The two of you would never have worked. Which is why you’ve never given in to his googly eyes – that hand on your thigh when the two of you’d been drinking – that lingering stare resting on your lips – and those silver-toned words on his.
He’s with someone new every other week despite his unfair hold on you – keeping you for himself – placing you on a shelf among the other things he hopes he’ll one day grow into – like a pair of shoes bought a size too big.
But you know he’ll never get there. He’ll never mature enough to hold a relationship for any longer than a month or so – never mature enough to settle down somewhere and not hotel-hop from one five-star to the next – never mature enough to respect you the same way he respects himself – never mature enough to commit to anything but himself.
The two of you could never be a couple. You could never love each other in the ways you want to be loved. He would want you to stay at home and wait for him to come back – longingly as a sweet housewife would – and you’d want him to encourage you in your respectful career – happy for you like a supportive husband would. None of it matched.
You love him, but you would never be happy with him. You would never feel respected.
So, that night when the two of you’d shared a kiss – you’d held him at arm's length and told him it was a mistake – that it would only serve to ruin your friendship.
He’d taken it as you being flighty – just a cute road bump before you’d finally realize you were meant for him – before you’d come running to his arms with pretty tears dropping from your eyes while throwing yourself at him – all apologies and confessions and desperate kisses – telling him you couldn't live without him.
But there you are…
Walking down the aisle for someone else.
masterlist | ao3
Pairing: Bakugou x Reader
Summary: You and Bakugou break up after a short stint of dating. Having been best friends, you try to return to the way things were only to realize that whatever this is is taking a greater toll on you than you thought it would.
“It’s a concerning feeling, but one you ignore in favor of pretending that nothing is wrong, in favor of imagining that whatever ache is in your chest is simply a figment of your overactive imagination. So each day starts the same, the same deep sigh and nearly painful roll out of bed before you immediately get dressed in hopes to feel just a little bit better.
You’re slipping. You know you are. You can feel the fatigue creeping into your bones with each inconvenience, each minor thing that makes you feel like if this doesn’t work out, nothing at all will. It’s how you feel when you see them, Bakugou and his new girl.”
Content Warnings: Hurt/comfort, post-breakup, angst, descriptions of depression, mental health, feelings of worthlessness, jealousy, rumination, feelings of shame and embarrassment, self-depreciation, self-loathing, happy ending, recovery, slight depersonalization
Word Count: 7.9k
A/N: This fic is really personal to me since i used my own personal experiences with depression and stuff. it’s also my first time writing hurt/comfort so i hope i did it well. also… did u guys know im in love w bakugou katsuki? like i am. anyway… here’s a new fic (finally).
Keep reading
AU where you and Touya were childhood best friends and you always talked about how you’d become pro heroes together.
You’d play pretend as if you’re fighting crime together, talk about what kind of heroes you wanted to be, and suggest hero names for each other.
After he died you went on to become a pro hero, alone. You use the hero name he suggested as a way to honor him.
Strangely, every time you’re injured by a villain, that same villain is found later… burned to death.
Synopsis: Your worst nightmare comes to life after you receive a call well after midnight that isn't from your husband Bakugou but about him. Rushing to the hospital you're thankful to find him alive but when he comes to he asks to see his wife despite you standing there.
Warnings: Angst, dark themes, mentions of child loss, mentions of/contemplating abortion, mentions of difficulty conceiving. Cheating if you squint
Chapter One - The things we forget.
Chapter Two - The weight on the tip of my tongue.
Chapter Three - The ghost that haunts my dreams, I shall not forget.
Final Chapter- The final good bye, I'll break my promise one last time.
you've always wanted to know what it was like to fly but ideally not in the arms of the man you've been avoiding for two weeks.
in which you've been avoiding hawks and he figures it out - prohero!y/n x hawks
it was a beautiful day to have a day off.
the weather was perfect: sunny with a hint of breeze. not too warm for it to be uncomfortable but warm enough for a short-sleeved shirt, you didn't run into any unexpected incidents that suddenly required you to perform any hero work, just wasted the day away doing absolutely nothing but unwinding by yourself. the lunch you had was amazing too, you really ought to go back and try out their other dishes, maybe bring a few friends from the agency too.
it’s just a shame that you have to end the day in the arms of the man you've been avoiding for the past two weeks, feeling your feet dangle helplessly in the air as he carries you securely, albeit, uncomfortably.
"never knew hawks kidnapped people off the streets during patrol," you muttered, squinting as to combat the wind that was slightly drying your eyes.
"depends what your meaning of 'random' is because judging by your definition, you mean strangers-" he stops talking when you approach the top of fukuoka tower and the prohero sets you down carefully, although you still stumble.
your heart thumped heavily in your chest, the exhilaration of soaring through the air was slowly seeping out of your bloodstream. although you really couldn't tell if it was flying at the ridiculous height that was freaking you out or if it was just the natural effect hawks seemed to have on you. damn that pretty bastard.
he continues his previous statement "-you and i both know we're not strangers. so what gives? why are you acting like we are all of a sudden?"
you cling on to the hand rails of the tower. heights wasn't much of a challenge but with the man you've been pining over ever since you first met him? you might need a second.
you met hawks when your agency and his had formed an alliance and it just so happened that your assistants assigned your patrol times to align. hawks was the number 2 hero and you were eager to learn how he went about his day-to-day, hoping for some help on how to boost your own rating up whilst learning how he manages an agency at his young age. he entered the prohero industry not too long before you but given your similar ages, he definitely had a headstart so when the opportunity to collaborate together came, you jumped at the chance.
what you hadn't taken into consideration however, was the extent of his charming personality and how easy it was to get along with the wing hero.
patrols were fun, full of laughter and jokes whilst competing in friendly competitions in who could save more civilians and apprehend more villains. sure, you shouldn't be goofing around on the job but nobody had to know.
adding in hawk's good looks, it did not take long for you to fall ass first for him.
your first instinct was to keep about your interactions but eventually the pining got too much that you figured out ways to avoid him where possible. meetings were meetings, but patrol times? your sacred little pockets of moments together? those could be minimised.
you took on late nights, all the way into the early morning unlike the usual afternoon schedule you'd established for the longest time.
and the act worked! for two weeks that is because now you're standing in front of hawks who has swept you off the street and brought him to his favourite place in the city.
this sucked.
he looked perfect in the golden hour too, honey illuminating his skin with a gentle glow that only enhanced how irresistible of a man hawks is.
"i don’t know what you’re talking about, nothing gives," you try to reply as nonchalantly as possible, excusing your nervous movements by pretending it was the wind blowing in your eyes uncomfortably.
hawks scoffs, "yeah sure, just like how you're giving me nothing."
you can't resist the pout from creeping on your lips. "is that why you kidnapped me off the street? to ask what's wrong? you could've just stopped me instead of flying off like i'm some worm for you to feed your baby chicks."
"haha, real funny. bird jokes," he rolls his eyes, a hint of a smile ghosting his lips.
"you know you like them."
"not as much as i'd like it if you told me what was actually up with you. taking patrols at midnight? seriously? i know you like your sleep."
"personal matters," you lie. although, it wasn't really a lie - it was personal, the way he made you feel was absolutely personal.
"what about today? why didn't you tell me you were off today because we could've hung out and visited that farmer's market i know you like."
you shrug, "thought never occurred to me."
he narrows his eyes in suspicion. "okay, then why wouldn't you tell me your hours were changing? i wouldn't mind picking up some nights," he asks, bottom lip poking out a little as a he furrows his brows.
you put your head in your hand, "no- that would've been, nevermind."
"tell me," he pleads. "it would've been what?"
you hate the way he's looking at you with so much passion and intensity that it wants to make your heart lurch out of your chest and right into his hands. this would be so much easier if he just-
fuck it. "it would have defeated the purpose."
"so you’re avoiding me on purpose then. did i do something wrong? cause if i did-"
"no!" you exclaim suddenly, tone full of exasperation and desperation, conveying the frustration you've been feeling the past two weeks into one sudden syllable. it actually takes hawks by surprise because he stumbles back a little and there's a moment of silence where you're just gauging for each other's reactions. "i mean- no, you didn't do anything wrong, and that's the frustrating part."
you continue with little space for him to intercept, "it's just, oh what the fuck, i know i shouldn't be saying this because it's totally unprofessional and-"
"out with it, y/n."
"-i like you.”
the air choked at your sudden confession and hawks’ expression says it all, morphing into one of shock - wide eyes and a slightly parted mouth before transforming into a wide smirk. you look away and cross your arms, which was a defense mechanism that hawks definitely picked up on. after spending so much time with you, how could he not have?
he leans against the pole of the tower, suaveness oozing off him as if he wasn’t just frantically asking you what was wrong with you, “how much do you like me?” he asks, smugness evident in his tone.
you cover your eyes, “if i do not see, i do not perceive, go away.”
his laughter rings through your ears and you peek at him by separating your fingers slightly, “oh come on, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about-”
“yes there is! i have a crush on you and you’re literally the most embarrassing person in the world! being associated with you is embarrassing enough!”
he clenches his chest in faux-pain, “that one hurt, you should consider your words more carefully y/n, it’s a wonder how you won a bachelors like me.”
you give him a look of defeat as the words he just uttered registers in your head. “stop playing, this is serious.”
“you just called me embarrassing to be around!”
“because you are!”
hawks raises a brow at you, “number two hero not good enough for you? i’ll shoot for number one next time, then will you finally not be embarrassed enough to go on a date with me?”
oh god, this was a mess. “no, no, i suppose a date with you now is good enough.”
“good enough?” hawks parrots before sighing with a shrug, “i’ll take it.”
“that came out wrong because i’m still seriously trying to believe that you’re not pulling my leg,” you point your finger in his chest, “you seriously like me back?”
“and i want to take you out on a date. tonight.”
“yes, let’s do it. tonight it is then.”
“even if i’m the number two hero?”
“because you’re the number two hero. it’s the only impressive thing about you.”
“you’re the one who has a crush on the number two hero.”
you laugh heartily, wrapping an arm around him whilst doing so. he hugs you back instinctively with a big, warm smile plastered on his face. if you weren't so nervous you would've seen how smitten the look in his eyes were, “i guess i am. can you bring me back to the ground now, number two? i think the civilians should see that their local hero didn’t just kidnap a stranger from the ground.”
“they’ll know when they recognise you as their favourite, local hero. besides, it lets them know you’re off the market now, so good."