Izanami came to you like an old friend. She sat beside you in the grass of the bright world your dreams had imagined for you. She was not withered, not bones, not cloaked, instead she manifested herself as love, familiarity and comfort. Spiked hair the colour of sand adorned her head like a crown while her eyes, slanted and curved as they were, shone like rubies in the afternoon sun. Your uniforms matched, only her neck was void of a tie which you somehow knew was her form of rebellion, and she wore pants in place of your skirt.
“How do I know you?” You asked her politely.
She laughed kindly but it looked unnatural on her boyish face.
“You know my image, not me,” she replied, “I don’t know who this is; tell me about him, would you?”
A frown graced your brow but Izanami didn’t look at you the way you expected her to. Her face should have yearned to help you, it should have wanted to solve all your problems like it so often did. There was usually a shared love between you and that face, but it seemed Izanami wasn’t capable of replicating that.
“I don’t want to die,” you stated clearly, “There is someone who I need to live for.”
“I know,” Izanami said and you were almost startled by how nonchalant she was, “Who is he?”
You hesitated to talk to her any longer as you watched the light behind her inch ever closer to whisking you away. But Izanami was a persuasive woman. Or rather, her face was a persuasive boy.
You told her the story of how you met. How you walked into class nearly a term late and the only face that didn’t immediately turn to look at you was his. When finally he met your gaze you smiled and sat beside him as you let him know how nervous you rightfully were.
You told Izanami how it took the two of you only a month to get closer than he had ever been with the other members of your class. How Ochaco and Mina would tease you for the way you would make a second protein shake every morning without so much of a second thought. How Eijiro would sneak him away before class to fix up his hair and give him another impromptu speech on how to confess.
You told Izanami that you rather go to Hell with him than go to Heaven without him.
“And his name?” Izanami pressed.
“Oh… I was so caught up I forgot to mention it, I’m sorry,” you chuckled half-heartedly with a blush on your cheeks, “Katsuki.”
Izanami tasted the name on her tongue and was overcome by the memories you had of the Katsuki boy. Your dreamscape faded away and was replaced by a dimly lit dorm room. A familiar All Might poster caught your eye and you fell into the black blanket that appeared to have been thrown haphazardly onto the bed, a common consequence of a late night in Katsuki’s dorm. The shutters were closed, as always — he wasn’t a fan of his room overheating in the sun — and the All Might plushie you had bought him however long ago watched you fondly from his desk.
You examined Izanami from afar as she sorted through Katsuki’s bottom drawer, the one you knew held, not clothes, but a scrapbook full of photos with his friends. It was a secret of his that you were yet to tell him you had found. Izanami presented a page to you, a photo of Eijiro, Denki and Hanta with you and Katsuki on a date in the background.
“I’ll regret not telling him I found that book,” you said, “I love that he loves his friends.”
“And you?” Izanami said.
“And me,” you nodded, “I love that he loves me.”
Izanami watched as you closed your eyes and leaned into the pillows, sniffing them in the hopes you would find Katsuki’s scent to comfort you. The illusion your mind had conjured was good, nearly perfect, but it couldn’t falsify a smell. You whined in desperation, the sound muffled by the pillows and Izanami felt a pang in her chest.
She sighed, “Go back to him.”
You sat up from the bed and stared at Izanami curiously. Her body and her mind fought with themselves, knowing she wasn’t allowed to let you go, but she stood fast.
“Don’t you hear him calling for you, dear?” She asked, a reminiscing sorrow painted on her face, “Run from the light and to his voice and you’ll return to him. Don’t look back.”
You leaped from the bed and uttered your thanks to Izanami before opening Katsuki’s shutters. His voice echoed from the other side of the imaginary school campus and your legs moved by themselves, propelling you towards him. In that moment, running became your life because he was your life.
When you finally stopped running to take a breath after what felt like days you found yourself in a hospital bed. A drip was connected to your wrist, keeping you from feeling any of the pain you were surely going to experience later and a paper thin blue gown laid idly on your frail body. To your right, Ochaco stood in awe, tears streaming down her face as she spoke too fast for you to pick anything up.
“I’m here, ‘Chaco, I’m okay,” you whispered, unable to speak any louder, “Where’s Katsuki?”
She nodded to the other side of you, “It’s been four days. He refused to leave.”
Ochaco kissed her fingers and bestowed it upon your forehead as a reminder of how much she cared for you. She then scurried out of the room to give you both some privacy and to call the rest of your class. None of them had gotten much sleep in the last couple of days.
You turned to Katsuki and smiled at his restful form. Even in slumber he looked angry, like it was his natural state of being.
“Wake up, Katsu,” you said quietly as you slowly raised your hand to his grazed knee that poked out of the bottom of his black jean shorts, “Katsu, baby, I’m awake, I need you to be too.”
His eyes fluttered open, his long eyelashes slightly dirty with rheum, and for a moment he just stared blankly at you. His stern face held behind it a yearning and a pain unlike anything you had ever seen from him before. It was always him that was hurt, never you, he was never supposed to be in that position. According to him, it was his job as your boyfriend to make sure you stayed safe and you were sure he felt at fault.
“I was so worried,” Katsuki cried as he held back tears, his voice betraying his supposed composure.
He collapsed into you. The grip he held you in was so tight you thought you might be crushed and you’d see Izanami again far too soon for your liking. When he finally pulled away you admired him like he was some rare object.
“I found your scrapbook,” you told him.
He frowned, "Is that really what you want to talk about, you idiot?"
“what is this place?” you frowned, stepping out of bakugo’s car.
bakugo ignored your question, instead placing his hand on the small of your back, his fingers pushing you towards the front door. you stood in front of what looked like a rundown club, the windows tinted black and a suspicious sign in front that had been painted over.
he opened the front door and followed you inside. it was dark, can lights and candles giving some light to the bar. a few people sat at the bar, all quiet and looking down. there was a table in the corner with a small group of people talking quietly, their faces hidden from you. bakugo led you past the bar and to a small room off the main space.
bakugo slipped open the door to the room, sliding in and pulling you in behind him. the laughter in the room stopped as you blinked, eyes adjusting from the dark hall.
there was a poker table in the middle of the room, pro-heroes sitting around it and staring at you. pinky, uravity, chargebolt, red riot, cellophane, shoto and creati, even deku, current number one.
you pulled on bakugo’s sleeve.
“katsuuuukkii!!!” mina squealed, hopping up from her seat and tackling bakugo in a huge hug. she quickly turned her attention to you, “oh my god, you are so much cuter in person!” she hugged you too, not noticing your frown at her backhanded compliment. “‘suki, you bagged a babe. i’m so proud of you!”
“i told you she was a cutie,” dylan chimed in, walking into the room behind you. “everyone, this is-“
“we know who she is,” chargebolt interrupted, waving a hand full of cards at you. “we haven’t even started yet. we can deal you both in.”
you turnned to bakugo, asking under your breath, “what the hell is this?”
“a surprise,” he deadpanned. your left eye twitched.
“a surprise is going to the aquarium or my favorite restaurant, not meeting half the fucking top ten pros in a shitty bar,” you hissed, tuning out the resumed conversation the off-the-clock heroes were having.
“this was dyl-“
dylan called your name from his spot sprawled across kirishima’s lap. “what’s wrong, doll?”
you turned to him, plastering a smile on your face, “nothing! i’m so excited to have been invited. i’ve never played poker before.”
“‘suki can show you,” mina said, gesturing you over to a chair next to her. “you guys have to share a seat so you can share a hand too.” she giggled, her pink curls bouncing. you looked around, there was only one open chair at the table. fucking dylan.
dylan got up from kirishima’s lap, “we’ll get drinks. bakugo, go sit down.” he whisked you away, back out the door and into the dark hall.
“oh my god,” you wheezed. “this is a nightmare. i’m going to embarrass bakugo and myself in front of all his friends.” you wiped a sweaty palm down your face. “this was not a surprise, this was an ambush.” you glared at the model.
dylan winced, “i’m sorry. this was my idea. i thought meeting bakugo’s friends might help…calm your nerves.” he steered you towards the bar.
“the thought was sweet, but dyl, how would meeting some of my childhood icons over a game of cards knowing that they’ve probably read at least five negative articles about me in the past 24 hours calm me down,” you replied, trying to smooth out the crease in your forehead.
dylan frowned, “well, when you put it like that i sound like an asshole.”
“i’m just hoping none of them saw the story about the drug store worker who claims i buy hemorrhoid cream three times a week,” you pull at your temples.
“jesus,” dylan looks horrified. “you don’t actually do that, right?”
“of course not! oh my god, i’m mortified. bakugo’s probably so embarrassed by me-“
“stop. calm down. you’re okay. everyone in that room has had their fair share of scandals, true and false. no one will judge you. and if bakugo was embarrassed by you, he wouldn’t have brought you here.” he handed you a drink the bartender had wordlessly given to him, “drink. it’ll actually calm your nerves.”
you nodded, gulping down the fruity thing in your hand. dylan handed you another.
“good girl,” he poked your cheek. “now, let’s go back in there, take pictures with our hot boyfriends, and pretend we know lots about poker. it really is fun, mkay?”
“okay,” you gulped down your anxiety, “i’m just going to get bakugo a drink.”
“already on it,” dylan winked, passing you a beer.
dylan led you back to the room, offering you an encouraging smile. “we’re back!” he sang, entering the room.
bakugo sat at the poker table, occupying the last open seat, with cards splayed on the table in front of him. he accepted the beer with a small nod.
you stood behind his seat, trying to listen in to the heroes’ conversation.
dylan gave you the strangest look from his spot across the table. “what are you doing?” he mouthed. “sit down!”
“where?” you mouthed back.
he rolled his eyes, obviously annoyed you weren’t understanding. “oh wait,” he said aloud, “i need to get a cute picture of you two before i forget.” he pulled out his phone, aiming it at you.
you inched closer to bakugo’s chair, leaning down closer to him.
“jesus, what are you, siblings?” dylan sneered, gesturing you to scoot closer.
you blinked.
bakugo sighed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you onto his lap.
again, you blinked. you were sitting on bakugo’s thigh, your knees tucked in between his.
dylan squealed, “oh my god, i got the funniest picture. so cute!”
you tried not to move, not to focus on your proximity to bakugo, the way you could feel his thigh tense underneath you, his arm around your waist.
“relax,” bakugo said quietly into your ear, his breath warm against your cheek.
it did not help. your face was hot, every single nerve in your body was on edge, you felt like you were on fire.
“so how long have you two been dating?” creati asked from the seat next to you.
you could kiss her for distracting you. you had practiced how this conversation would pan out. “two months,” you smiled, “but it seems a lot longer.”
“and how did you meet?” she asked. everyone at the table quieted down to hear your response.
bakugo huffed. “none of yer business, damn-“
“well, i’m sure that you know this by now, but i work at a bakery and i’ve been working there for over a bit so i know our customers pretty well. this guy walks in with a baseball cap and his hood up and sunglasses, and it was cloudy outside, so i immediately knew something was up. he comes up to the counter and orders four croissants; one fruit, one cheese, one chocolate, and one plain.” for the first time all night, you’re not nervous. “he pays with the shiniest credit card i have ever seen in my life. then i put them all into one big box, but he barks that he wants them all in separate bags. so i take them out of the box and put each into a bag. once there’s three bags on the counter, he just takes them and bolts. i put the last one in the bag and look up to give it to him and he’s just gone.
“there was no one else in the shop and i figure he couldn’t have gotten far, so i go after him thinking that he might give me a good tip. he was already two blocks away. so im running after him yelling, “sir, sir,” and he’s just completely oblivious. he pulls down his hood and i swear that i know that spiky blonde hair. finally, he turned around and i caught up to him. he acts like he doesn’t recognize me so he pulls off his sunglasses to squint at me in that condescending way of his. i immediately recognize who it is, but i’m just standing there holding out the bag with the croissant like an idiot. bakugo took the bag and left, without even a thank you.”
chargebolt snorted, “sounds like bakugo. how’d he win you over?”
now you have to lie. and that makes you feel like shit.
“someone took a picture of us on the street, and of course it was taken out of context. the next day, bakugo comes back to make me sign some paper about the situation and then he just kept coming back. i would like to say that he came back because of me, but i think he likes my fig bars more than me.”
“a modern day fairy tale,” pinky sighed dreamily. “you’re lucky she chased after you, or you would be sad and lonely for the rest of your life,” she frowned at bakugo.
you turned to catch his expression, his face rolling with anger. he still had his arm wrapped lazily around your waist, even though you had begun to relax against him.
kirishima snorted, “are you dating him for the money? the fame? surely not the winning personality? ”
you smirked, “somewhere deep down inside his ridiculously muscular chest is a heart the size of a pea. and i fuckin love peas.”
…
you laughed, smiling at the women beside you.
“mina, you have not changed since high school,” jirou sighed, rolling her eyes.
“i was perfect then, perfect now,” mina winked, throwing cards down on the table.
“fuck, mina! how do you still not understand how to play this game,” denki whined, frustrated that his coaching wasn’t paying off.
“what’s the point when momo wins every time,” mina groaned, shooting daggers at momo, who smiled proudly while laying down her cards.
bakugo grumbled, tossing his cards on the table. “whatever. we’ve gotta go, the princess has work tomorrow morning.” he added under his breath, “‘n my leg’s fucking asleep.”
you slid off his lap, grabbing the jacket draped over the chair.
“byyyyeeee,” dylan sang, drunk and laying on the ground.
you giggled and waved your goodbyes as bakugo bro hugged his friends.
only once you were in bakugo’s car and on the way home did you drop your smile. “that was fun, but i’m exhausted,” you whined, rubbing at your sore cheeks. “you’re probably tired too, especially since you’re up past your bedtime.”
“i don’t have a bedtime,” bakugo growled. “i’m a grown man.”
you smiled, “seriously though, thank you for bringing me. i had a lot of fun.”
bakugo said nothing, half his face hidden in the shadow of the night.
“your friends are really nice,” you added.
bakugo scoffed, “you’re just glad fucking icy hot was there.”
“you are so bad at disguising your jealousy,” you replied, willing your face to remain a mask of indifference.
“i’m not fuckin’ jealous,” bakugo grunted, not meeting your eyes in the rear view mirror.
“mm,” you hummed, picking at your nails.
“don’t fuckin’ do that shit,” bakugo snarled, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.
“what shit?” you asked, giving him your best doe face.
“yer whole fuckin’ act,” he growled, the light from the street lamps reflecting off the white of his teeth. “don’t act like you don’t give a shit.”
“drop your asshole delinquent act then,” you hissed. “no one thinks your “yer” is cute. i fucking hate it when you drop the end off words.”
bakugo ground his teeth and turned into his garage. “damn, you’re fucking frustrating.”
“you’re fucking frustrating! i make a joke and you get all mad and start going “yer” and “oi.” it drives me crazy.”
bakugo glared at you, huffing and puffing.
“what are you doing?” you started to laugh, “did you just fucking puff out your chest?”
“what?” bakugo’s face twisted. “i fucking didn’t.”
you continued to laugh, stitches running up your sides.
“oi! stop fucking laughing,” he puffed, face red.
“there! you just did it!” you laughed. you lowered your voice and growled, “oi!” you cracked up again, doubling over in the passenger seat while bakugo glared at you.
“don’t see what’s funny,” bakugo grumbled, pretending to be annoyed, but you could see the red tinge to his ears and the small curve of his lips he was trying so hard to hide. “i’m going in,” he huffed, yanking your stuffed backpack out of the backseat.
you followed him inside, wiping the tears from your eyes. you were quiet in the elevator, quiet as he unlocked the door, and still quiet as bakugo passed you your bag outside the door to the bedroom you were borrowing.
you took the bag, “thank you.” he grunted. you dumped the contents of your bag on the wooden floor, digging out the pair of shorts you were eager to change into.
bakugo paused in your doorway, frowning before he left and slammed the door shut on his own bedroom.
whoever said women were overly dramatic had clearly never met bakugo.
you ignored his sour attitude. although, he wasn’t grumpy until you picked on him. you changed into shorts and a tshirt and spread your things across the floor searching for your toothbrush. you found it and continued on with your nightly routine, taking over the counter of katsuki’s guest bathroom.
when you were done, you lightly knocked on bakugo’s door. “katsuki? i just wanted to say thank you for-“ he opened the door, his freshly washed face inches from yours. “oh, hi.” you stepped away, stumbling against your door frame. “anyways, i wanted to thank you for tonight. i had a lot of fun and i appreciate the effort you put into it.” there. you offered an olive branch of peace.
bakugo crossed his arms, leaning back against the frame of his door. he’d changed too, swapping his black dress pants for black sweatpants and a band tshirt. you blinked. he took his red eyes off you, glancing out the window into the night. “it was mostly dylan’s idea. i fuckin’ hate poker. i‘m shit at it. don’t tell ‘em though.”
you smiled, “i’ll trade you a secret for a secret.” he turned his gaze back to you. you met those fire red eyes straight on, maybe the drinks were kicking in. “i love it when you slip into your bumpkin hoodlum accent. it’s super cute.” you slid back into your room, never breaking eye contact. “good night, katsuki,” you nearly whispered, closing the door gently.
you tiptoed across the floor, quietly crawling onto your bed and burying your head into your pillow.
what had you gotten yourself into?
…
bakugo stood rooted in that spot, leaning cockily against the door, arms crossed.
he stood there, completely still, brain going a million miles a minute, trying to process what happened. the whole night. the past hour. the last minute.
why did he care so much about the way you smiled at him at the stupid poker night? why did he care about the way you snapped back at his snarky comments and then always found a way to take it back? why did he care if he could still feel you leaning back against him, completely at ease, making jokes with his friends?
why did he care about you at all?
…
“good morning, dylan,” you practically sang, your phone tucked between your shoulder and chin, your hands full with a tray of cranberry scones.
“you seem to be in a good mood,” dylan beamed, you could tell through the phone. “my plan worked wonderfully.”
“yeah, it did. there wasn’t a mob ready to crucify me this morning, thank god. and, katsuki insisted on driving me to work at six in the morning and he let me eat a bagel in his car. i don’t know what you said to him, but it worked.” you sighed blissfully.
this morning had been unbelievably nice. bakugo had a bagel on a plate for you the moment you stepped out of your bedroom and had refused to let you ride the bus. he was still his brash, arrogant self, but he was being thoughtful, something you’d seen more and more of in him. bakugo was quiet the whole drive over, not saying anything about the crumbs you got on his leather seats. he even offered to say the morning with you at the bakery, just to be sure there weren’t any crazy fans. you refused, of course. his job was more important. but the thought was nice. more than nice.
“what do you mean?” dylan asked. “i didn’t say anything to him.”
“you told me that kirishima was going to talk to him about his attitude with me,” you frowned. “that was your plan.”
“no,” you could hear dylan’s confusion. “my plan was to post a cute picture of you and bakugo last night and have it blow up.”
you arranged a plate of lemon scones for the countertop. “what?”
“i posted it late last night. i woke up this early just to get your reaction. go look.”
you did a quick search of your’s and bakugo’s name and there it was.
BAKUGO AND GF BREAK THE INTERNET AGAIN WITH PIC POSTED BY INFLUENCER FRIEND
you scrolled down to the picture. you were sitting on bakugo’s knee, turned into him, his arm wrapped around your waist. you smiled widely for dylan while bakugo gave the camera his typical stern frown. although somehow it was softer, less angry and more protective.
“i sent all the pictures to you and bakugo,” dylan added, obviously pleased with himself.
“thank you,” you replied, scrolling through the pictures he sent. one caught your eye, but you’d have to look at it later. “someone’s coming in, so i gotta go, but thank you so much. i appreciate it, dyl.”
the smile you gave the customer walking in the door wasn’t your typical early morning smile, strained and tired, but one that complimented the pink spread across your cheeks and the glint in your eye.
…
“hi,” you smiled at the blonde across the counter. “how was work?”
“fine,” bakugo replied, looking at you oddly. “why does yer face look like that?”
“i made you something,” you beamed up at him, holding up a plate with a brownie sitting in the middle.
he took the plate from you, face full of skepticism. bakugo took a bite before quickly spitting it back out on the plate.
“what?” your face sank. “is it that bad?”
“jesus fuck,” katsuki choked out. he stepped around you and went to the sink, drinking straight out of the faucet.
“really?” you felt the heat rise behind your eyes. “i’m sorry, i thought… i’m sorry.”
“what the hell was that?” bakugo gasped, leaning over the edge of the sink, the collar of his post work workout tshirt completely soaked. “are you sure you can bake?”
“i was trying to make spicy brownies,” you said quietly, trying to not burst into tears.
“what did you put in them?” he replied, eyes locked on you.
“cayenne and chili powder,” your lip shook. “and pop rocks.”
he looked at you like you were insane. maybe if the situation was different, you would have laughed at his face; his squinted eye, raised eyebrow, fierce frown.
“i was trying to make a dynamight brownie,” you admitted.
“too spicy and the popping candy is terrible,” bakugo spit into the sink, the pop of the candy sizzling in the basin.
“i’m sorry,” you frowned, turning back to the kitchen. you had twenty minutes until close.
bakugo caught the edge of your sleeve, “try again tomorrow, less spice.” his red eyes looked sad, like he knew his words sunk too deep this time.
you nodded, heading off to finish your work.
the two of you spent the rest of the night in a quiet peace. bakugo drove you back to his apartment after you closed the bakery, he made dinner while you flipped through a magazine on the couch, and he even let you turn on the food network tv channel after dinner. you’d offered to wash the dishes, but he had some fancy dishwasher that took care of it all.
“hey,” bakugo poked his head out of his bedroom, “i’m going to bed. night.”
“good night,” you gave him a small smile.
…
“can’t taste the spice at all,” bakugo frowned.
you groaned, turning to dump the pan in the trash.
“wait, i’ll take those to work tomorrow,” he stopped you, reaching for the treats.
you rolled your eyes, handing him the pan with a bite missing from the center.
you went back to work, making sure the pastries were ready to be put out in the morning and everything was where it should be. bakugo had scared the high schooler who helped out in the evenings, so he stuck to the back while you cleaned the front. poor thing.
you sighed once you slid into bakugo’s car, the leather seats the epitome of comfort. “how was your day?” you asked the pro.
“shit,” bakugo sighed, fingers right around the steering wheel. “fuckin kid almost drowned and my suit fuckin ripped.”
“don’t you have a backup?” you asked.
“yeah, but this one’s my favorite,” he pouted. you smiled at the number 3 hero whining about which costume was his favorite. “don’t laugh at me.” he growled.
“your suit, it’s polyester?” you asked. he nodded, glancing at you in the rear view mirror. “what about polypropylene? oh no, that burns easily. maybe nomex? it’s like kevlar but moisture wicking and it’s fire resistant. maybe you could reinforce your suit with it in the places with the most wear?”
bakugo turned into the garage. “you can meet with the design team. you’re off thursday?”
“we close at one,” you replied.
“i’ll take you then,” katsuki said, eyes meeting yours for just a moment before he jumped out of the car, already moving for his apartment.
bakugo cooked dinner while you sat at the bar, flipping through the fashion magazine that had been delivered to the bakery this morning. you read the interview with mount lady multiple times, soaking in the details of how her hero costume grew with her.
you switched over to a cookbook while you ate, bakugo on a barstool beside you, thumbing through a stack of forms. you asked him what they all were and he grumbled something about property damage. you didn’t push him.
you put the dishes in the dishwasher, swiping bakugo’s empty plate. “can i take a shower?” you asked, eyes on the blonde.
“you don’t need my permission,” bakugo didn’t raise his eyes from his paper.
so you grabbed a towel from the linen closet before closing the door to your room. you wrapped the towel around your bare body, your soaps in your arms, leaving your clothes in a pile on the floor. you quickly slid from your room to bakugo’s, closing the door behind you.
you eyed his room. it was neater than you expected; the bed made, nightstand clean, floor bare except for a black rug. his bed was massive, big enough for four people at least. most of the rest of his room was taken up by his all might bookshelf. the shelves were floor to ceiling, lined with books, magazines, bobble heads, trading cards, figurines. it was insane.
you moved to his bathroom. the shower was nice; walk in and spacious. his toothbrush sitting on the counter, other items laid out on a cabinet above the toliet. you were impressed.
you moved to the shower, dropping your towel on the ground. you turned the water as hot as it could go. bakugo kept his apartment freezing, claiming that his quirk kept him hot. the warm water was wonderful, you couldn’t help but moan. you were about to take the nicest shower of your entire fucking life.
…
katsuki blinked at the same document he’d been staring at for the past twenty minutes. he was on the first line when he heard you turn on the shower. he hadn’t gotten past that line. the words swam together and all he could focus on was the sound of water running through the pipes. if he really listened he could hear you humming some song he didn’t recognize.
the pro rubbed his eyes, read the first line again. the second line. the third. the shower. the noise was gone. bakugo sat up straighter, glancing at his closed bedroom door.
there you were, trying to quietly slip out of his room, stopping like a deer in headlights noticing his gaze on you. you offered a small smile, rushing into your room, closing the door behind you.
bakugo blinked. he looked back at his papers. he started at the fourth line. reread it. reread it again. again. all he could see was you standing there, his orange towel wrapped around your body, dripping water onto the hardwood floor.
you opened your door and he turned at the sound, red eyes on you once again. you padded back into his room, orange towel in hand. you hung it on the towel bar, next to his green one. his eyes were still on you when you walked back out, glued to where you stood in his doorframe.
“hi,” you said softly, leaning against the door.
katsuki’s eyes traveled down your body, taking in your tank top and sweatpants before flicking back up to your face. “hey,” he replied, voice barely more than a gravel whisper.
“wanna get ice cream?”
…
DYNAMIGHT’S MIDNIGHT SNACK
you smirked at that one. you were back home by 8:30. nothing could get in the way of bakugo’s sleep patterns.
someone had commented, “the snack is that ass!!! he won” which had you in a fit. you took a screenshot and sent it to bakugo.
bakugo: aren’t u supposed to be working?
you: aren’t you supposed to be working?
he didn’t reply.
you: okay i’m sorry please come back im bored out of my mind
bakugo: did u make my brownies?
you: i did but i haven’t tried them yet
“hey.”
you looked up, a smile spreading across your face. you would have recognized that voice anywhere. “i thought you were working.”
bakugo crossed his arms, the muscles rippling. that hero suit really was well designed. you noted that he wasn’t wearing his gauntlets, much to your approval. “‘m on my break.”
you pursed your lips, turning and grabbing the plate off the back counter. you were proud of these. you’d even iced an orange x on the front to match his uniform.
he took a bite, scrunched up his nose, then took another.
“i used cayenne and cinnamon this time. is it better?” you asked, frowning at his silence.
“give me another,” he said through the brownie in his mouth. “please.”
you slid him the whole pan. “i take it they’re good.”
“best fucking brownies,” bakugo grumbled, digging a chunk of out the pan with his bare hands.
you let out a satisfied hum, not bothering to hide your smirk. “oh, and the security company came by and they said that everything would be activated or whatever by friday. they said they’d call you.”
something like anger, or maybe disappointment, flashed in bakugo’s eyes. he quickly turned it off, giving you a nod. “i gotta go. pick you up at five.” he carried the pan out the door with him.
you waved bye to him through the window, blowing him a kiss with a smart ass grin plastered on your face.
final chapter coming soon<3 i’ve missed this story a lot
“You were suppose to chase after me! You were suppose to make me stay!” Your heart stuttered to match the quick pace of your breaths, and you struggled to hold it all together as you cried.
He doesn’t say anything, his lips sealed in a tight line as he just watched you with a bewildered expression.
“You know I love you,” is what he uttered after a long pause, where you looked so desperate for him to match your passion of words.
It’s not enough, he knows it’s not enough to muffle your breaking heart, or to ease the tears raining down your pink face. Words and confessions were hard for him, and he felt awkward being placed in this position where you wanted answers on his lack of action to save your relationship.
“Is there someone else?” The question comes out a whimper, your eyebrows scrunching as you clench your jaw, waiting for the answer to hit like a punch.
The mention of a third person makes him squirm, because you and him both know the answer but he can’t say it. You know he wouldn’t, but you want him to at least be truthful.
“Tell me!” Your screech makes the ball of emotion in his throat hard to swallow, but still Katsuki can’t just open his mouth to say anything.
You realize it was pointless to come, shivering from the rain you ran through to get to his house like a lost little puppy. Your eyes travel to the ceiling when a slight squeak of a bed frame can be heard from upstairs and you feel like throwing up.
“She’s here?” You can’t believe it. Your heart stings, not even a full 24 hours after you left has he already found someone to take your place in his bed.
You had suspicions of him seeing someone else for months now. But you gave him the benefit of the doubt, because you loved him and truly believed he was different.
“Katsuki, is she here?” You held his eyes, and whimpered when he nodded.
“Why did you do this?” His breath catches in his chest at your question, and his jaw clenches.
“I’m an asshole.” He know this, and his actions just prove it even more.
You shake your head, moving to leave before looking back at him.
“No, Katsuki, you’re heartless.”
Your final words make him flinch, and he doesn’t look up from his feet even after his front door clicks shut. He just stands there, hurt but knowing he has no reason to be when he was the issue.
A soft, scared voice calls for him from the stairs, making him look up.
“Are you coming back up?” He doesn’t remember her name, but he nods.
“Yeah, yeah I’ll be there in a bit,” he mumbles and that gets her to return back to his bedroom.
Katsuki’s eyes look at the puddle of water you left behind, taking a deep breath to control the wave of emotion pushing to unravel his tough exterior.
He leaves the puddle there in his living room, knowing it’ll be gone by morning.
you’re out late at a convenience store, trying to scrap together some semblance of a meal when you see a tall ass dude with a mask and his hood up trying to decide between ice cream flavors. he looks kind of like a celebrity, especially with those expensive ass sneakers he has on, but otherwise, he’s just a dude.
somehow he’s in front of you in line but when he gets to pay, you see he forgot his wallet. obviously frustrated he starts to move out of the line but you step up and offer to pay because fuck if you couldn’t have your ice cream at 2 in the morning. you pay for you items and leave, bidding the tall dude a good night. all the while he just stands there, flabbergasted that not only did you pay for him, you didn’t recognize the number 2 pro hero bakugo
THIS IS SO !!! SWEEEEEEEEET !!!
you know he’d be swearing under his breath, just had a shitty day and wants to just sit in silence at home. when you leave some spare change on the counter beside his ice cream he only catches your side profile and a mixture of your homely scent and perfume.
ngl i imagine him being so slightly offended you didn’t recognise him too LOL so he blames it on the fact he didn’t see much of your face either and it is 2am.
hes also annoyingly stubborn and prideful because he doesn’t need a stranger to pay for his ice cream. so he stomps out the store and does a light jog after you, before he realises it is 2am at night and he is chasing after a woman. so he slows down and calls for you.
“oi!”
you spin around precariously, holding your goods in your arms. you’ve got way too much that it was probably worth spending extra for a bag. katsuki momentarily thinks whether your generosity also expands to the earth too.
you blink at him, before recognising him from the shop, “hi? did i forget something?”
your face glows under the street lamp, an ugly orange that highlights your features. you’re pretty, soft where it matters with a huge puffer jacket covering your top half. you’re cute. so cute.
but he’s still in his grump, refusing to change as he grunts, “i didn’t need your money, send me your details.”
you don’t know whether to be offended by his brute tone. harsh around the edges as he whips out his phone to a money sending app.
still confused you say, “erm? it’s fine? it was only a few [pounds/dollars/euros/pesos/yen/your currency lmao.]”
he gives you a nod, “i don’t wanna owe you anythin’. type in your shit.”
he gestures his phone to you and you can’t wrap your head around this encounter. was his manhood hit? his manly pride? you can tell he can afford ice cream if his expensive ass trainers and designer hoodie is to go off. even his phone case has a monogram across.
you step back, “i’m fine, it doesn’t matter to me. you don’t owe me anything.”
bakugou frowns, stretching his jaw left to right. you can’t see much of his face with his hood covering his hair and his mask across the lower half of his face. his eyes are gorgeous, a red wine gum colour and you notice blonde strands peeking out his hood. he’s built, massive, the type of body you’d see on a pro… hero. wouldn’t dynamight look like this?
he notices the realisation gleam in your eyes and he sighs aloud, “can you just do it? i cannot be fucked for an article that i couldn’t afford my own ice cream.”
you let out an awkward laugh. what? “i mean… they wouldn’t be wrong? who doesn’t have apple pay in this day?”
he huffs, “phones new. twelfth this year.”
your eyes bulge, “twelfth? also wait, articles?”
you’re having a conversation with this stranger in the middle of the night and you’re low-key intrigued. okay maybe high key.
he also seems to be entertaining your confusion, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly and as he reaches up to scratch his head, his hood drops. wait? is it actually him?
“i break them all the fuckin time and yeah articles. i dunno if you’re a talker.”
“talker?”
“you just gonna repeat everything i say?”
the corner of your lip quirks up, “everything? no. just the important stuff.”
his eyes crinkle at you, amused. he turns his phone back to him, “if you don’t wanna put your username in, wanna try here?”
and shining back at you is his phones number pad.
“you think i’m going to give my phone number to an ungrateful broke stranger who followed me home at two am?”
he’s not supposed to take offence, he can see from the way you bite down on your lip and you tilt your head slightly to the left.
“all those points i can dispute but i can’t be asked so yeah. i do think so.”
“you think highly of yourself and very low of me?”
he yanks down his mask like it was a grand reveal, but you already had an inkling. a very sure inkling of who this man is.
“am i supposed to scream?”
“you’re supposed to put your number in, babe.”
“babe? i’ve upgraded.”
he is just as handsome as those magazines and high quality photos on twitter and videos on the news. his lips are plush and he’s got that shiny gold tooth he’s recently been known for.
“not everyday i meet a pretty girl at 2am willing to buy my ice cream.”
“you haven’t been in an mcdonald’s at night near a club then? it’s actually pretty common.”
“babe.” he gestured his phone towards you.
“dynamight.”
you’re both smiling at each other goofily and bakugou has to admit he can’t remember why he was so pissed off to get his pity ice cream anyway.
he nods like he understands, like he’s accepted defeat. “fine. i got the message, no number, rejected. but i still owe you.”
he starts to step backwards into the direction he came in and there’s something in you begging to follow him, a string tied to you. though you manage to stay put, so does your grin.
“if you want anything, you know where to find me.”
bakugou smirks, shoving his phone in his pocket and turning around. multiple places appear in your head of where you could find him, his agency most likely.
Cowboy! Bakugou watches your ex corner you on the way to the bathroom, your face pinched in annoyance that quickly morphs into anger as he looms over you.
He can’t tell exactly what you’re saying, but he knows it can’t be productive. You refused to talk about what exactly went down between the two of you, but he knows it’s nothing good.
He watches carefully, a beer halfway to his lips when your ex’s hand closes over the top of your arm. Even from here, he can see it’s rough, jolts your entire body as his fingers curl into the soft fat of your arm, and Bakugou’s already prepared to stand when your fist rocks out and slams into your ex’s jaw.
Everything after that happens too quick, you’re shoved back hard enough that he watches your head slam back on the wood floor of the bar as his stool clatters behind him.
Over the blood rushing in his ears, clouding his vision red, he can faintly hear someone call out to him. “Bakugou, wait!”
He’s between the two of you in a second flat, teeth bared as he fists your ex’s shirt in one hand, the other already slamming into his cheek. There are shouts all around him, people calling for security, scrambling out of the way of the hurricane he’s become. All he can focus on is the man beneath him as they tumble backwards, his knees hitting the floor painfully as a fist buries itself in his ribs, his chest.
Everything moves slow as his fists rain down again and again, only pausing when a hit lands on his cheek so hard he thinks he might pass out, black warring with the red on the edge of his vision.
But then theres a flash of you hitting the wood through his mind, the way your mouth had parted in a silent cry, and he’s grounded again, fury keeping him conscious enough to finish the job.
The man beneath him is a bloody, wheezing mess when they finally yank him off after what feels like hours, security shoving him up against the wall.
People rush into the space he once was, some calling for an ambulance, and it’s only then that he realizes he doesn’t know where you are, head whipping to the other side. The feeling of brick against his bruised cheek has him sucking in a sharp breath, but his panicked searching only stops when his gaze lands on you.
Kiri’s got you pulled into his lap, shielding you from the fight and checking your head, but your gaze never once wavers from Bakugou’s when he meets it, eyes shining with tears.
There’s a silent exchange between the two of you then, a realization that just beneath the surface of your friendship, something else has been looming, waiting for a chance to show itself. He thinks you should be angry, should be getting ready to slap him for losing his temper like that. But you don’t.
You look at him like you’ve never seen him before, never really seen him. You look relieved, even, and then your gaze flicks to the broken man on the floor for half a second and everything clicks for him. All the times you dodged his questions about your relationship, all the times you snapped at him to let it go when he asked why you broke up, all the canceled plans and the sudden rift in your friendship that had left him hurt and aching.
And in that moment, something new roars to life in his chest. Something heavy and hot that makes him want to rip Kiri’s hands off you and make sure you’re okay himself. Makes him want to cradle your face in his hands and wipe away your tears.
Because whether either of you knew it or not yet, he was yours, and nothing would happen to you while he was around.
It’s last call, the bartenders are cleaning up from a long night of drunks. The lights are slowly being flicked on, people with too much alcohol in their system stumble out into the early morning.
The bouncer, young and on his first night on the job, moves to get the last couple off the dance floor. The other bouncer, one that’s seen a lot in his years, pushes him back.
“Let them have this, it’s their tradition,” He whispered, eyes flickering back to how close and careful Katsuki seemed to be holding your waist, your intertwined hands pressed to his lips.
The music had been shut off a long time ago now, but still you two swayed in the middle of the empty dance floor.
“They married or something?” The young bouncer asked, leaning back to watch.
His colleague shakes his head. “They’re exes. They spend the whole night ignoring one another but end up like this by the end of the night.”
Katsuki smells like his expensive cologne, the one you picked out for him. His nicely pressed shirt is smeared with your makeup where you laid your head on his shoulder and your lipstick is staining his collar. He doesn’t mind, they’re all reminders for him in the morning that this night was real and that he got to hold you.
“Seems kind of toxic don’t you think?” The young man said softly as Katsuki dipped down to kiss your lips, tears threatening to fall from your eyes because letting go was the hard part.
The older gentleman shrugs his shoulders. “Love is bitter as well as it’s sweet.”
૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — fluff + sfw, fem!reader, bakugou does nawt know what rizz means and his students make fun of him, pro hero!bkg is a teacher at UA, mentions of pregnancy scars, girl dad!bkg.
rizz — (slang) one’s ability to seduce a potential love interest. synonymous with game, charm.
“baby?”
“katsuki.”
“what the fuck is ‘rizz’?”
now he has your attention. setting aside your book for the night, you glance at your husband with an amused smile, he’s fresh out of the shower— golden skin shimmering with pearly droplets of water and hair matted wetly to his forehead. “who’s askin’, kats?” you coo, shifting to your knees as bakugou takes a seat on the edge of your shared bed, his lips drawn into a long frown— almost as if he’s pouting.
“i’m askin’, i swear t’god. these fuckin’ brats,” the blonde goes on to rant, the shower he’d just come from clearly not doing much to soothe the stresses of the day. circling an arm around his slender and unfortunately towelled waist from behind, you press burning kisses up and down the pro hero’s back and shoulders— hoping to calm katsuki just enough for him to get his thoughts into order. “one of my kids in class said i had no fuckin’ ‘rizz’ because ‘m ‘touchin’ thirty and haven’t got a damn ring in my finger yet. whatever that fuckin’ means.”
“rizz is like charisma, baby. like… how good you are at flirting or charming people,” keeping your words tender, you watch the clogs turn in katsuki’s head.
“that’s fuckin’ stupid.”
“awh but baby, you know what they said isn’t true…you’re the rizziest man i’ve ever met,” you can’t hide how hilarious you find the situation, still pressing tender kisses up katsuki’s neck until you reach just behind his ear— tugging on that spot with your teeth the way he likes. scratching at his wet scalp too. the bulking explosive man, with the roughest exterior and softest heart you’ve ever seen leans back into you, exhaling slowly through his nose. “where’s your wedding ring katsuki?”
he tilts his head back to look at you, love laced into his smoke screen and scarred eyes as pulls on a chain that sits comfortably against his neck, the golden band attached to it with his dog tags. “didn’t wanna lose it while trainin’ up the kids, today.” katsuki mumbles shyly. he’d done so once before almost in tears, only to find out you’d taken it to get cleaned of all the ash from his quirk.
brushing a thumb over his slightly chapped bottom lip, you smile at him again— taking in how beautiful katsuki looks under the warm glow of the lamp on your nightstand. “so what did you do? did’ya tell them you were married, with your baby keepin’ me up all night?” you say it like you’re exasperated, but while rolling his eyes katsuki knows you’re just kidding— happy to be stuck at home with your mini bakugou in the form of a precious little girl, blowing through his wallet to appease your cravings and soothe the boredom maternity leave brings with online shopping.
“of course i fuckin’ did,” he responds, failing to use his words as he tilts his head up for a kiss. a smile spreads slow on his lips, sexy and adorable all at once— a pleased look etched into bakugou’s features when you give into him and give him exactly what he wants. “showed them a picture of you.” he breathes into the lip lock, cheekily licking the words into your mouth.
“yeah?” you hum, pulling away from your husband with a glint in your eyes. “and how’d that work out for you, sweetpea?”
bakugou practically purrs at the pet name. he’ll never admit how much he loves to be babied — especially by you. “they believed me. said i had ‘infinite rizz’ whatever the hell that means too.” he lets you pull him into bed with you, let’s you crawl into his lap to get closer— his callous hands immediately settling on your hips, thumbs slipping under your (his) shirt to brush over the evidence of your pregnancy. stretch marks from your bump, the small scar from your c-section. “called you a milf as well, fuckin’ brats.”
“just means they think i’m hot and they’re surprised you that you managed to bag me. consider yourself lucky, mister dynamight.” you laugh again, sighing in content as bakugou massages the aches and pains— adoration pulsing through him because what you say is true. he is lucky. lucky that you stick around, that you’ve dealt with him for this long, that you love him the way you do and want him for the rest of your life. lucky to have his family, to have you.
and in the low light of your shared bedroom, it hits him all at once. the life that katsuki bakugou leads now, is a blessed one. he has a stable job teaching an amazing set of kids, his wife loves him more than anything and his little girl? well, she’ll be the death of him. but bakugou knows for a second he won’t take it all for granted, appreciating the quiet moments— like this, with his wife making a love-sick fool out of him, a smile of your lips so bright katsuki can see his future.
one that he never in a million years thought that he’d deserve.
“well then for once, they wouldn’t be too fuckin’ far off.” the blonde grins, pinching your hips lovingly— as if to get you back.
It was a bad idea pushing the dates back to get your windows fixed. Right now you are suffering with this air. If you didn’t know any better you’d say it felt like winter right now. As you prepared your mug full of coffee, you looked out the window spotting a stray cat. It was the neighborhood stray. Well fed but it never wanted to go in any houses. Maybe when it snowed you’d bring him in. Or maybe he’d find someone else like the rest. A shiver ran down your back and you knew it was time to turn the heat up.
“80 degrees wouldn’t hurt anyone.” You whispered. There was a knock at your door, you didn’t want to answer. Not when you’re already cold. Maybe you’d fake it out and go to sleep. If it was that important they’d text you, or come back tomorrow.
“I-it’s me.” You froze. “Look, I know you’re home. Can we just talk? I’ll be out of your hair soon.” You felt lightheaded forgetting to breathe. He sighed. “I get it if you don’t want to talk. I just wanted to come out here since I was in the city.”
You didn’t know what to do. Answer it or let him walk away? You didn’t want him to leave you again, but after all this time why now? Why suddenly does he want to see you? Because he’s in town?
You were at war with yourself, but the quieter it became the quicker you realized he walked away.
You ran to the door, why? You didn’t know. Your feet were moving but you weren’t telling them to.
You rushed to unlock the door, your hands shaking. This was a mistake, it was a mistake and you knew it. But as soon as that door opened, it seemed like everything was back to normal. He stood there, his bright crimson red eyes glowing in the darkness behind him.
“Hey.” He swallowed hard after saying it. He didn’t expect to see you. He wanted to come to your house, say he stopped by but you weren’t there and carry on with his life. But nope, of course you wouldn’t let that happen.
“What do you want?” It didn’t come out as harsh, but hurt.
“I just wanted to talk.”
“About what? You left me, I haven’t seen you since spring! It’s fall now.”
He stared at you. No response.
“You left me.” You felt the tears starting to form in the corner of your eyes. “Why would you leave me?” He said nothing, noticing you shiver but you were too full of anger to notice.
“We can talk about this inside.” He finally responded.
“How about you go back to where you came from and we can pretend this never happened.”
“Yn please, I came all this wa-”
“And what about when I did it? You had me escorted out of the agency, you made me look like some desperate stalker. I hated you Bakugou.”
There it was. The answer he came here for. Which name you would use. It wasn’t his nickname, it wasn’t even his first name, you went straight to his last name as if you guys were back to being strangers. But honestly that’s how it felt. You didn’t know who it was standing in front of you.
“Do you hate me now?” His eyes looked sad, but you didn’t care.
“Kinda. You left me. How could I not hate you?”
“I left because…” he sighed. “I missed you.”
“You missed me?” You chuckled under your breath.
“Can we just talk about this?”
You sighed, swallowing the bullet that was pierced in your heart for so long.
You walked in the house, he followed behind nothing said. He stood by the door waiting for you to tell him where to go next.
“You want to talk so badly, so let’s talk.” You motioned towards the couch.
He sat down, his huge body squishing the couch cushions. You noticed it before he walked in, he was definitely bigger than the last time you saw him.
“I want to say I’m sorry.” His head hung low. “I didn’t want to leave, I didn’t want to but I had to.”
“Why? Why did you feel the need to disappear for all those months?”
“Because I felt like cutting you off was the best thing to do at the time.”
“Why? Because I confessed my love for you?”
“No-yes…” he sighed.
“That’s what it is. You changed your number, moved, and avoided me like I was some random crazy person!” The heater kicked in, helping you focus on that instead of crying.
“I hated it. I hated leaving and being so fast to make permanent decisions like that. Do you know how hard it was for me? I felt so bad whenever someone would bring you up. I would choke up because I feel like I left you all alone, no reason for my departure. I just left. I hated every day and wanted to come back. I’m sick of going back to the day where you would annoy the hell out of me and I’d want nothing to do with you, you were always so difficult to be around because you were so obnoxious. And you want to blame me for this, it’s not all my fault. You were the one who made our relationship awkward by admitting your feelings for me. You made me not want to make new friends.” His face gets red. He’s holding back his tears as best as he can. “You always had this idea for relationships but I couldn’t provide that for you. I would never be enough for you, and that’s why I left. I couldn’t give you what you wanted. I wondered every night if I made the right decision. I always questioned why I did it in the first place, I stayed up on the longest nights trying not to book a flight to where you were. But by that time you were already gone. I couldn’t find you on anything, you blocked me on every social media possible and it hurt me.” He sighed. “I feel pathetic thinking about it now because there was so much I could’ve changed but instead I left like a coward. It wasn’t my intention to leave you out there all alone, I wish I could’ve done things differently but I didn’t. It happened and I learned from it. I’m hoping you did too.” You stood there, looking him in the eyes. The stare gave him chills down his spine.
“I can’t believe you blamed me. I only showed you what I felt and you left me like I was trying to ruin your life. I told you how I felt, all you had to tell me was that you didn’t want a relationship and I would’ve dropped every emotion I had for you and kept our friendship as normal as possible. I felt embarrassed, disgusted, I felt like the biggest loser on the planet because I made my crush run away after admitting my feelings.”
“And I’m sorry.”
“No you’re not. You’re only sorry because you felt guilty after all these months. Why else would you be here? You don’t care about how I feel, you never did. You were tired of sleepless nights and you didn’t know how I was doing. It would look so bad on the papers if I weren’t okay, you care about your career more than you do people around you.”
“And that’s a bad thing? You don’t pay the bills.”
“And I don’t want to! God forbid I’d have to pay for your four cars, multiple mansions and your zoo you call your pets! I don’t care about the fancy stuff. Call me old fashioned but I don’t. I cared about one thing and one thing only: love.” You sighed. Now was the time for him to tell you how he felt. “But it’s okay, I fell out of love with you. There’s no need to chase something that doesn’t want to run.”
“That’s not true. I ran.”
“You ran to your safe space. I stayed in the same place. I made friends, I even dated people, when you left I won’t lie I was sad, depressed. I didn’t want to do anything but rot away in my room. But then I realized I can move on and become the best me possible. So I guess I need to thank you for showing me that it’s okay to be sad but as long as you pick yourself back up.”
“What if I told you I wanted to see you. I almost called you, I almost-”
“Almost Bakugou. The key word here is almost. If you cared like you say you did, there wouldn’t be an almost. You would’ve been here months ago.”
“But things changed.”
“I’m sure they did.” He sighed. This was going nowhere. Only in circles.
“I came here to tell you I want-”
“It doesn’t matter why you’re here or what you want. I think it’s time you leave. I have to be at work early tomorrow.”
“So when do you want to finish this?”
“Finish what?”
“This.”
“You finished it back in the spring. It’s in the past now. I stopped thinking about you, so I think it’s time you did the same.”
“Yn please.” He begged.
“It’s time for you to go.” You went over to the door, opening it. His words got caught in his throat. But he stood up and walked over there.
“So that’s it?”
“Yeah. I think so. It’s nothing against you, I just feel like this conversation is irrelevant right now.”
“Yn. Can we talk after work please?”
“I’ll think about it.” You lied. He sighed, leaving your house. He didn’t know what he was walking into tonight but it couldn’t have gone any worse.
How could he tell you when he hurt you so badly? You didn’t want anything to do with him, and to be honest; he couldn’t blame you.
Abandon my ship to the mercy of the waves @asphora - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
