Tags: kirishima x reader, hurt/comfort, kirishima is a precious cinnamon roll, mention of bullying, no use of y/n, fluff, A/N at the end, gn reader
Synopsis: After the devastating betrayal of your 'friends' you're mostly floating through life, not really trying anymore, just existing. When another chance encounter in the infirmary changes everything... again.
In other words, Kirishima comforts the reader after finding out what happened
W/C: 2.5k
TW: mentions of bullying and emotional turmoil
Part 1 | Part 2 (you are here)
You hadn't spoken to Kana or Yuki in over two weeks. They had tried to apologize, tried to make it seem like it was a harmless prank, that they didn't mean anything by it. But the joke wasn't funny. All their teasing had done was reaffirm every awful thing you already thought about yourself. Every day felt dark and dull, like peering through a filter at your own life. You still studied, still exercised - you did what you had to do to survive, and that was all.
Your other classmates had started to notice. They approached you with caution and curiosity, none of them cared enough to push further when your smile didn't reach your eyes or your quiet "I'm fine" cracked in several places. Every step felt like walking through ankle deep water, slow and exhausting. You had started eating alone at lunch, avoiding the table where you and your former friends used to sit. The once fond memories now tainted with hurt and betrayal.
It was the middle of the day, you had just returned to your class room when the speaker came to life with a familiar crackle, summoning you to Recovery Girls office. This was the first time since your life imploded that she had requested your help. Ignoring the stares and whispers from the other students in the room, you left, making your way to the infirmary.
As usual, Recovery Girl was already set up and waiting by the time you arrived. Her tender smile and kind face didn't warm you the way it used to.
"Brace yourself, sweetheart. We have Classes 2-A and 2-B heading our way. They had a joint exercise this afternoon." The elderly hero trailed off, shaking her head with equal parts exasperation and amusement. "Heroes never learn. You'll figure that out soon enough."
You nodded, adding a quiet, "Yes ma'am," before turning to prepare yourself and ready your own station.
When the infirmary door swung open chaos immediately filled the room. Loud voices called out over top of one another, students shouting taunts and jabs at others; apparently they hadn't left the fight at the gym.
It took the better part of two hours to work your way through all the Hero Course students who were pouring through the door. Recovery Girl saw to the individuals who needed the most care, those that had suffered the worst injuries. You were tasked with getting the others patched up and sent back to class. Their faces became a blur as one after another plopped down in front of you for healing - the familiar rhythm an unexpected balm to your aching soul.
You were nearing the last of the students who needed medical attention, and thank goodness for that. They were going to burn through all of your supplies before the day was out if they weren't careful. Taking a quick moment to breathe, you refilled your cart from the cabinets along the wall. When you turned back to your station, a familiar red-haired hero was perched on the bed, grinning at one of his classmates while he waited for you to come back.
A flush reached your cheeks when you thought about the last time you had seen him. Swallowing past the lump in your throat, you could feel the embarrassment weighing heavily in your chest as you walked back to your station.
Sitting back on your stool, you didn't look at him when you asked, "How were you injured and where?"
"Oh it's nothing major! Just a couple guys from Class B dropped a wall on me," you looked at him then, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, it's all good. Just some bruises here," he gestured to his ribs before extending his left hand. "And I'm pretty sure I busted a couple bones in my hand breaking free of it."
There was a pause while you stared at him.
"Sure," you said, shaking your head with the same combination of exasperation and amusement Recovery Girl had earlier. "Totally normal to have a wall fall on you and be, mostly, fine."
Letting out a sigh, you got to work on his hand first. Luckily nothing was broken to the point of needing to be reset. Extending the flow of your Quirk, you got to work repairing the bone. You could feel it each time a fracture was healed, the slow regrowth rapidly sped along by your Quirk.
Once you finished with his hand you wrapped it, giving him clear instructions, "Try to take it easy for the next day or two. The fractures are healed but they still need a day or so to fully set and return to their previous strength."
He gave you a toothy grin, "Thanks!"
You ignored the little flutter it caused in your stomach. You learned your lesson and were not about to let hope blind you again.
Instructing him to lay back on the exam bed, you gently prodded along his ribs. He let out a hiss at the gentle pressure. Making note, you continued with your examination, cataloguing the other three places he had a similar reaction.
"This is going to take a little longer, so just rest here for a bit while I work."
"Sure thing-" he paused. "I don't think I ever got your name! I'm sorry, that's super rude."
A breathy laugh escaped you before you introduced yourself.
"I'm Kirishima Eijiro. Though, you pro'lly already knew that," he laughed.
It was a light sound, full of an almost contagious carefree mirth. You didn't realize you were smiling until you looked up to meet his eyes. His crimson irises sparkled in the harsh light of the infirmary. Quickly looking back down, you pressed your hand to where the injury on his side began letting your Quirk do its work.
By the time you were almost finished with Kirishima, Recovery Girl was meeting with the last student.
You had Kirishima stand, instructing him to lift his arms so you could wrap his abdomen.
"You need to take it easy for a couple days. There shouldn't be any permanent damage, but if anything feels wrong just let one of us know."
He nodded, his face serious while he listened to your directions.
"You're good to go," you gave his arm a pat before you set to work tidying your work station.
"Thanks again!"
His genuine thanks brought another flush to your cheeks; nodding, you turned back to continue the clean up.
It always took far longer to reset the infirmary than you expect it to. Between restocking the various stations, sanitizing and washing anything that needed it, and making rounds on the couple of students who would need to stay for a while longer; it was almost dark when you were finally ready to leave.
"Get some rest, dear! You did well today," her praise surprised you. Not because you disagreed, but it wasn't often she would go out of her way to commend you for doing your job. Recovery Girl is a kind and gentle woman, but she's not one to hand out praise just for the sake of reassurance.
Giving her a nod, you finally leave the infirmary. Only to be stopped before taking more than two steps out the door.
"Oh! Hey, wait a sec!" Confusion creased your brow when you turned to see Kirishima unfolding his long legs from where he was sitting on the floor.
You paused, giving him time to catch up.
"Did something happen with your hand?" Almost as a reflex you extend your hand to his to ensure the wrap still secure around his hand.
"Huh? Oh, no," he let out a laugh, the sound echoing down the empty halls.
"Oh. Okay," you turn back in the direction of your dorms, pulling your bag a little higher up your back.
You could hear the quick rush of his steps when he called out again, "Wait. Where are you going?"
"Back to my dorm. I have homework," you didn't turn around. Didn't even look at him when his long stride caught up to yours to walk beside you. Keeping your eyes down while you walked, every few steps you would catch a glimpse of bright red from his sneakers in your periphery.
"We probably have some of the same assignments, wanna work on them together?" There was a touch of hesitancy in his tone.
You kept walking, trying to ignore the pit in your stomach. It was just another 'joke'.
"Why would you want to do that?" You weren't trying to be rude; you just didn't have it in you to be humiliated again.
"I just thought- Uh, well- so here's the thing-"
Spinning in his direction, you stopped, feet firmly planted while you confronted him, "Is this a joke?"
His eyes widened in shock, "No! No! I'm not- I swear! I just think you're cute and wanted to see if you'd wanna hang out some time?"
A light blush colored his cheeks while he gave you a sharp-toothed grin. One of his hands was rubbing the back of his neck like he was trying not to show embarrassment.
You took in the swell of his arm that this angle provided before snapping back to your senses, "Why?"
His arm fell to his side as he almost deflated, "It's okay if you don't want to. Like I said, you're cute and you clearly know what you're doin'." He gestured to his bandaged arm, "Figured it couldn't hurt to ask, heh."
It had been a couple of weeks since then, and Eijiro had started walking with you to class from your dorms in the morning. He was sweet, with an easy smile that helped settle the turmoil that often sprung up when you thought too long about the young hero who asked you out. You still doubted every word he said; not because of him, he had given you no reason to doubt him. No. You doubted yourself. Kept waiting for him to realize his mistake and decide to go after someone better.
The pair of you were sitting on a picnic table just outside his dorm building. It was a nice day and he had asked if you wanted to work on homework together. You'd been working quietly for a while, though you weren't sure Kirishima was actually doing anything. He kept waving and chatting with some of the other students in 2-A, or doodling in the margins of his notebooks.
Finally, his nervous energy seemed to get the better of him and he took a deep breath, "Can I... can I ask you something?"
You looked up from your notes to find an unusually serious expression on his face, "Sure."
"Why did you think I was joking when I asked you out?"
Oh. Your heat began to hammer in your chest. This was not a conversation you had ever imagined or wanted to have with him.
Taking a deep breath of your own, you answered him honestly, "Because it's the only reason I could think of that someone like you would want to go out with someone like me."
There was a painful twist in your chest, like the admission alone was a confirmation that you were right. Your gaze flicked back to him, only to see a scowl and frown adorning his face.
"That doesn't make any sense," he shook his head. "You're super talented, and smart, and damn pretty."
A blush rushed to your cheeks at the compliments.
"Why'd you think that? Like, anyone would be damn lucky to date you. I just beat 'em all to it." There was a pause, like he wanted to say more but was still trying to get his thoughts in order, "Actually. That's not the first time you said that! You said something about a joke when you fixin' up my wrist too!"
Setting your pencil down, you laced the fingers of your hands together and leaned forward. Terror coursed through you as you prepared to tell him the truth. He deserved to know; and you didn't owe Kana and Yuki anything anymore.
"The day before you hurt your wrist, someone left a note on my desk, pretending to be you," his eyes widened in surprise. "It said to meet you by Gym Alpha because you wanted to ask me out."
You had to swallow past the lump in your throat, the ache still just as painful, even a month later.
"I stupidly waited. Probably longer than I should have. Of course, no one showed up. So the next day, when you came into the infirmary I told my- I told Kana and Yuki that I was going to ask you about it. When I did, you clearly had no idea what I was talking about. And when I checked my phone, they had sent me dozens of messages telling me not to say anything to you... because it was them. They thought it would be a 'funny joke,'" tears started to gather in your eyes, but you blinked them back. Kirishima didn't need to see you cry. "Anyway, I haven't spoken to them since."
You were still looking at where your hands rested on your notebooks, afraid of what you might see. But when the silence dragged for a minute, two, into three, you finally peeked up to see his face.
His lips were pressed into a thin line, a deep scowl pulling the corners of his mouth down in an expression of rage that would put even Bakugo to shame. When his crimson eyes met yours, they softened - shifting from rage to something almost tender.
Reaching his hand across the table, he hesitated before letting his large hand grasp both of yours.
"You have shitty friends," the declaration startled a giggle out of you.
He wasn't wrong.
"Just so we're clear, I asked you out cuz I wanted to. It wasn't a joke or a dare or any other asinine reason. And even if I hadn't- which I'm damn glad I did, by the way," he gave your hands a little squeeze, meeting your eyes. "Even if I hadn't, you deserve love as much as anybody else. Hell, I'd argue more with all the healing you do for us." Cracking a little smile, he continued, "Askin' someone out should never be a joke. That really sucks that they did that, I'm sorry."
Rising from his spot on the bench across from you, he padded over to take a seat beside you. Large arms wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you close, holding you to his chest. The steady beat of his heart added a comforting rhythm to the moment.
As you sat there, wrapped in his warm embrace, the light of the sun touching your skin; you thought that, maybe, just maybe, he could be right.
I debated posting a second part to this. But since this is my fictional world, I figured 'what the hell.' So reader got the comfort I wish I had gotten when this happened to me. Thank you for reading!! Don't forget, YOU ARE WORTH IT!
**Please do not copy, modify, translate, or steal etc. Feel free to like, comment, and reblog!
You and iida were a one time thing, until one time turned into two, turned into a habit of casual sex. But was it casual? Hidden feelings eat you alive and the pain of not being able to have you surfaces when iida unexpectedly comes over and you serve him homemade dinner.
cw: fwb, chef!reader, mutual pining, angst with a very happy ending, hurt/comfort, miscommunication, reader and iida love each other so much it's sickening siiighhhh
requested here - wc: 3.3k
kofi / masterlist
Being a pro hero was hard. Iida knew that. But some days were so mind baffling that even he was at a loss for words.
His patrol began with a disgruntled drunk emptying out half a beer on him which resulted in his body being sticky for the rest of the day. Verbal altercations, his suit malfunctioning and fights that got out of hand followed. On top of everything a villain managed to get away and another pro hero was the one to catch him later that day.
Iida felt like a wet sock. Like a sorry excuse of a hero. And even though he usually remained logical and level headed, today he just wanted to swim with the fish.
The only thing that kept him going was the thought of you and the rendezvous you had a couple of days ago.
The sultry gazes you exchanged over candlelight just two days before this one - the atmosphere electric (like most times in those uber fancy restaurants you somehow always got a reservation at) still rang clear in his mind.
The thought of you was so comforting, he went against his better judgment and complied when his legs carried him to the part of the city you lived in.
The thought of you was so comforting that he didn't even think about his sweat coated body, his sunken eyes or the ache in his muscles when he walked towards the subject of his affection.
"Hello?"
Iida mumbled a greeting, unsure what to say or where to start. His throat was threatening to sew shut.
"Tenya?"
Your voice was distorted by static as it came out of your apartment intercom. He slurred a, "yeah", prepared to hear the worst.
He was prepared for
'I have someone over'
'What are you doing here?'
'I'm sorry but you can't come'
that the characteristic buzz of the intercom didn't even register at first. Everything was in a dreamlike blur, as iida pushed the door open.
Fuck. How could he have been so weak? How could he have given in to his urges like this? Suddenly panic rattled him.
He dragged his heavy feet up the stairs and into the elevator as his thoughts were running a mile a minute.
Was it too late to go now? To let the elevator drive to the top and back down? His head said: get out at the next stop and walk away while you still have some self respect.
But before he could get his body to comply the door opened with a soft 'ding'. The first thing iida saw was your concerned face while you were standing in the doorway.
Your heart sunk at the sight of him; exhaustion was coming off of him in waves, his face pale and his movement slow.
"Did you come straight from work?",
is the first thing he hears. Your voice is soft like velvet, low, as if you were afraid to wake a sleeping baby.
Iidas bleak eyes don't meet yours, his head is hung low and his shoulders tense.
"Yeah, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"No not at all, come in"
"I'm intruding on something, aren't I?"
"What are you saying? I'm glad to see you, come on in."
Iidas words betray the fear in his heart and strike confusion in yours. Still, you move out of the doorway, making space for him to take his shoes off.
"Really I should've called, I'm sorry, my head is just slower than my body today"
Seeing iidas big frame in your crammed anteroom like this was beyond weird. The man who stood tall, pride and hero ideals on the forefront of his mind, now seemed like a mere shadow of himself.
"Oh don't apologize, I was just getting ready to make dinner, I'd love to have you over."
While iida was hoping to slip through the cracks of your floor, you lead the way into your living room. You placed two wine glasses on the table, filling one for iida and filling the difference in yours.
The silence was uncomfortable, questions upon questions sliding into the space between you, yet remaining unsaid.
"Would you mind if I used your shower real quick?", the words leave his lips in an unusual manner. "I- uh, I'm pretty grimy."
"Uh- of course not, knock yourself out"
Truthfully, iida just wanted to bury himself in your open arms and let the pain of today slip away. But he knew that you two weren't like that, that this relationship wasn't of that nature.
And perhaps that knowledge pained him even more today than it did usually. The typical low hum of his pain turned into a bass boosted sped up version.
The water cascaded over iida, washing the gunk of the day off of his chiseled body. He knew that he needed to get a grip.
He couldn't come out with tears threatening to flood his eyes and blow his cover. He couldn't risk ruining what you guys had.
You meant everything to him. Even if he knew he could probably never come clean.
Flirty conversations, orgasm filled nights, feeling your skin on his, your hand in his hair, waking up to an empty bed, light blue against the skyline. The time you spent together was beyond beautiful to iida.
You had wormed your way into his heart. He wanted to see you more frequently to the point that every day was filled with things he wanted to share with you; jokes he wanted you to hear; things he wanted to experience by your side.
But he couldn't admit that the only thing he wanted was your hand in his. Not when you both agreed to keep it casual. Not when you laughed at people who let string-less sex develop into relationships. Not when he knew he would lose you if he admitted that he had fallen for you.
And just like that tenya decided that he would stay in your shower until he composed himself.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
The sound of the water hitting your tiles was bleeding into the background with some radio program you mindlessly switched on.
You had no idea what was going on with tenya or why he showed up to your apartment out of the blue. But you couldn't stop your heart from hammering in your chest because he did.
Sunken in thoughts you trimmed and cubed your chuck roast, working the knife against the red of the meat.
Your heart was hammering against your ribcage and you felt connected to your teenage self in a pathetic way.
Like a caricature of a naive woman: falling for the influential, good looking guy who told you from the beginning that he only wanted casual sex.
Nightlife was unfolding outside of the windows of your apartment, streetlights flicking on and neon signs buzzing in the distance, your mind was almost as chaotic.
Should you just try to end things? Weasel your heart out of his grip to avoid iida-inflicted heart break? It would be easier to leave than be left, wouldn't it?
Time was flowing seamlessly as you seared the meat, cleaned and cut your vegetables.
If you could only go back to that one fateful night and say something different. If you could say something slightly more easy-going, like 'let's see where it takes us' or 'I'm open to everything' instead of joining his laughter on all those desperate lovebirds falling in love with their fuckbuddies.
If you could only go back and punch that smirk off of your face.
The truth - this feeling right now burns bitter marks onto your tongue.
With every passing minute your heart felt more like a 400 pound weight than a muscle. One thing really didn't add up though. Why did he come over tonight?
Your mind immediately went to the worst case scenario.
What if he came over because he was in a relationship all along and his partner found out about you two and threw him out?
You should've known that no one as perfect as him comes around without skeletons in the closet.
The beef stew was coming together nicely as you overthought iidas and your relationship. You picked apart the threads of every memory as you finalized the herbs and spices in the dish.
Meanwhile iida was getting ready to pull himself together. He was blinking the remaining tears away, a slight exhaustion spreading its fog in his head.
After letting the electric pressure cooker do its thing you allowed yourself to continue sipping on your glass of wine.
Really, what would you even do if he came here to break your heart and you made his favorite food like a fool?
What if he'd come out and decline even staying for dinner? What if he wanted to go straight to the bedroom?
You knew your heart would shatter no matter what you both agreed on in the beginning.
Your thoughts came to a halt as you stood in front of the bathroom door with some spare clothes. The water had stilled a couple minutes before and you figured that it was a good time to knock.
"Hey, I've brought you some fresh clothing"
Iida opened the door slowly, almost cautiously. A soft smile graced his face, underlining that incredibly gentle quality that you adored.
"Thank you"
You caught a glimpse of his body, chiseled chest, broad shoulders, all lacking his usual sex appeal. Instead the exchange made you feel the foreign homey way things could be if you two were really committed.
You felt how things could've been if you had met in a cutesy coffee shop instead of that dim bar.
If those months were spent getting to know each other instead of clawing at his back until you drew blood.
Your mind wanders off to the idea of you two falling into a comfortable rhythm. You cooking his favorite food on your day off, him slipping into the shower after work, sharing dinner over candle light….
You snapped out of your daydream and tore your gaze from his. But your deflated smile made iida arrive at the conclusion that his presence was a burden tonight.
He should've known better than to intrude but he knew that his heart could only be consoled by one.
As iida was slipping into the soft linen pants, cotton shirt and deep red sweater you gave him, you set the table.
A dark green tablecloth, dark blue glazed dishes and elegant cutlery - it seemed almost formal.
You placed the glasses onto the wood, as iida walked into the room. You swallowed the bitter thoughts from before when you heard iidas soft voice.
"Oh wow, something smells amazing in here"
"Only a few more minutes 'till it's done"
A soft smile spread on your face as you motioned for him to sit.
Uncertainty rang through the room with every shallow breath either one of you took.
"I should probably go- I shouldn't have intruded on your evening"
Genuine surprise cracks your face open and eager disagreement falls from your lips.
"What are you saying, tenya? Come stay. I already cooked for two, it would be a shame to let it go to waste!"
Every fiber in iidas body wanted to stay. He wanted to dwell in your presence, root himself in the dark brown floor boards of your apartment, but there was a voice in the back of his head saying he's just trouble to you.
"Are you sure I'm not intruding?"
"Nonsense! Please, tenya."
Your outstretched hand pointed to his seat as you disappeared in the kitchen to check on the food and try calming your nerves.
Gentle jazz made for a fantastic backdrop as you swallowed the wine you had started drinking before tenya came over.
Liquid courage burned brightly in your chest as you walked back and placed the appetizer in front of him.
The blue dish housed a light arugula salad with dark brown and black hues of balsamic vinegar dancing on it's leaves. The color got lighter, got darker, flickering.
Just like your attempts at conversation.
The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife, a million topics seeming like the wrong choice. Finally, you settled on one topic that didn't answer any of the important questions brewing in your minds.
"Your water pressure is so amazing"
"Thank you! That's a criteria I really included when I was looking for my flat! I've actually only lived in this flat for two years, sometimes it feels like I moved in yesterday"
Through bites iida said,
"Wow, really? I love what you've done with it"
Though the start was rocky, conversation started flowing at last and you two fell into your usual rhythm soon enough.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
When you brought out the beef stew you saw something genuine shine through iidas stoic facade.
You set the plate down in front of him, taking the chance to crack him open.
"Like what you're seeing, big boy?'
"Yea- h-how did you, I mean why-?"
You simply shrugged,
"I remember you saying it's your favorite and you looked like you went through hell today so I figured"
You sat down on the other side, trying to remain as innocent as possible and not to press on.
"Yeah" iida trailed off.
The first taste of your dish opened something deep inside of him. The tender meat, the hearty potatoes, the sweet carrots dancing between the perfect amount of spice - warmth seeped through his body straight into his heart.
"Wow! This is …amazing"
Mouth still full, eyes wide, iida looked at you, fully, for the first time tonight.
A pink hue coated your cheeks as you replied,
"Thank you".
"No seriously, this is amazing! Like Michelin star restaurant level! This is better than most of the stuff we've eaten when we were out- How???"
Silence stretched through the room as iida tried not to inhale his portion.
"Uh- I don't really like telling people … but I'm a chef "
"Wait… really?"
Suddenly it all came to iida.
It was so incredibly stupid for him to be head over heels while he didn't even stop to think what your profession was.
Red flashes of self hatred and regret punched the homey warmth right out of his ribcage.
He hated that he didn't know these things. And he hated how much he wanted to know.
He wanted to know it all. Your coffee order, your shoe size, your favorite movie genre, your guilty pleasures, everything. Not just your favorite positions.
Suddenly your flat felt suffocating. He loosened the suit around his neck until he noticed that he was wearing a sweater by now. Force of habit.
His shallow breathing didn't go unnoticed by you. You quickly stood up and opened a window to let fresh air and traffic noise slip into the room.
Iida stood up, arriving at your door in just four big steps
"Tenya? where are you going?"
Your worried voice called out to him but he remained still. You approached his tense body looking at his face from the side and noticing tears in his eyes.
"Hey, what's wrong? Talk to me tenya"
A suffocating silence stretched for a few seconds before he mumbled,
"I can't pretend anymore".
His words are barely above a whisper but it hits you with the force of a tsunami.
"What?"
"I can't pretend that this is enough for me."
Your name falls from his lips, dipped in exhaustion.
"I can't pretend anymore."
His facial expression tears you apart. His eyes are full of tears, his eyebrows scrunched together, his forehead full of wrinkles - this is the first time you've seen him like this.
"This night was like balm to my soul"
Stale air fills the seconds until he continues talking. Your eyes are glued to him while his eyes are glued to your furniture.
"You, are balm to my soul"
A shaky breath, first you, then him. Iida rubs his hands over his eyes as he talks.
"I stopped being satisfied with our relationship a while ago but not knowing these things about you is what drove the point home. I don't just want you."
He looks into your eyes, finding that depth effortlessly.
"I need you. And being constricted to heartless fucking? Being kept at an arms length?"
His shoulders tense and a bitter laugh rips through him as he turns around. He's facing away from you as his hand covers the lower part of his face.
"It's not enough for me. I'm sorry I broke our agreement-"
"Do you really mean that?"
Your voice interrupts his confession and he has to fight against his closing throat to throw the words into the air instead of letting them slip into his lungs.
"I'm as serious as a heart attack"
Your breath hitches in your throat as a cheesy grin spreads over your face before you hug the man standing in front of you forcefully.
He clearly wasn't expecting it, the way his breath hitches, his eyes so wide they're threatening to pop out. Tears slip from your eyes and onto the fabric of his sweater as you mumble a
"Me too"
It's inaudible to iida so he shakily pulls you from his chest, his face as pale as if he saw a ghost. His hands grip your arms as his voice breaks under the uncertainty.
"W-what?"
"I feel the same way tenya. I can't stop thinking about you and I want more than just … the benefits."
Iidas hugs you with superhero strength, putting so much force into the loving gesture that you think your ribcages will crack against each other.
Your hands snake around his waist as you bury your head in his chest, tears sneakily making their way into your eyes again. And judging by the surprising plops on your head, you're guessing that iida had a moment of vulnerability too.
After tens of minutes you reluctantly separate your bodies and your hand instinctively reaches for the side of his face. Your thumb ghosts over the softness of his cheek, fondness written on your and his face.
"Tenya, lets sit back down."
He took it one step further, daring to say what you were both thinking.
"Let's do this right from now on."
When you sat back down the candles, the dark green tablecloth, the red liquid in your glasses - it was all perfect.
Your hand in his was the best gift you could've ever asked for and when you cleared your plates from all four courses iida gently spoke, a little sadness ringing through his words.
"I'm still wondering how i didn't know you were a chef"
"Hmmm, maybe because I don't tell people. I like the shock factor of it all"
The silly way you stick your tongue out makes iida laugh heartily. And he's so happy with you that he chooses to ignore that he had a panic attack over something you keep from people for fun.
"You buffoon"
Iidas soft voice has no edge to it and he continues,
"Can I kiss you?"
You can feel his breath on your lips now that you've moved closer, your heart beating so wildly that you're afraid it's gonna give out.
You're holding hands on one side of your bodies, your other hand on his neck, his on your waist. And when your soft lips connect to his, it all falls into place.
That night both of you slept like babies, feeling your warm bodies against one another shamelessly.
Iida routinely reached out to touch your sleeping form, just to make sure he wasn't dreaming and if you caught wind of it you took his hand in yours and pressed a soft kiss to it.
It's safe to say that something insanely beautiful found its way into unabashed existence that night.
Hi lovely! Im so glad your requests are up again hehe. Could you do a Bakugo x Reader fic where reader has some SH thoughts or suicidal thoughts? I completely understand if thats too much or too triggering, Im just such a sucker for Bakugo comfort and I wanted it to match my situation a bit. If its too triggering feel free to not do it! Have a good day :3
I love you! If you need anything I am here! <3 You are loved and deserve happiness
Bad Thoughts (Bakugo)
trigger warning: Mentions of Self-Harm and Suicide.
Katsuki could tell that you were going through something. Not just because he knows you like the back of his hand, but because he has always been observant- even if his explosive personality doesn’t seem like the type. You have never been bubbly and outgoing per se- but your smile used to reach your eyes when you looked at him. You used to engage in the banter that the Bakusquad created while hanging out, and you used to have an overall feeling of lightness to you.
Recently, that hasn’t been the case. You will smile, but it’s tight. You don’t laugh like you used to or pick fights with Sero or Kaminari. You don’t seek out hugs or kisses like before, letting Katsuki act like he is annoyed, but secretly loves it. It felt like you were a ghost- and Katsuki hated it. What he hated more is he had no idea what to do. He knows something is wrong, that you are working through things, but he isn’t the best with feelings, with talking, with comfort- it’s something he has been working on, wants to continue to work on- but you need someone now.
He found you on the roof. It was where you always liked to go to think and get away from the noise. You were sitting on the edge, your legs dangling over the side. He didn’t say anything as he approached, just sat down beside you, close enough that your shoulders were touching. He gazed out at the view, the same view you were looking at. It was quiet, for a few moments at least, before you asked him a question, so soft that he almost missed it and then had to snap his head to you to make sure he heard you correctly:
“Do you ever think that life would be better if you were gone?” His mind raced. He knew you were feeling sad- that something was happening, but to this? To this extreme. His eyes scanned every inch of your face, every inch of your body- trying to assure himself that you are actually here and you haven’t done anything as reckless as that yet.
“The hell are you thinking about leavin’ for?” It was the best he could come up with that wasn’t yelling or cussing you out. Thinking about leaving here, leaving him. The fear, sadness, and anger were whirling around inside him. Your eyes don’t drift to him, but he can see the way your breath hitches. It’s like you are thinking about what you want to say to him and how you want to say it. His eyes drift back down to your arms, you’re wearing long sleeves, before he can stop himself- he grabs your one arm and lifts it, pulling your sleeves up to see the inside of your wrists- clean. His exhale stutters.
“I haven’t,” You said softly, “But I have thought about it.” Your eyes finally find his, and the profound sadness and loss in them is enough to make his chest tighten. This wasn’t you. You were the one who laughed for both of you, who called him out on his bull shit, who was the only person in the world that could calm him down when he went on a rampage- but here you are so, so sad. He doesn’t know how to handle it.
“I know this isn’t what you signed up for.” You continue so soft, so vulnerable. “But I’m drowning, Kats, and I have been trying to pull myself up, get at least my face above water, but I keep sinking and sinking and now- I don’t know what to do.” You whisper the last part. “I just want to disappear.”
Panic erupts in him as he moves before he thinks- tugging you to his body and moving the two of you away from the edge. Pulling you to his lap as the two of you continue to sit on the rooftop, the wind blows around both of you. His arms wrap around you like he is your own personal shield from the world. He forces your head onto his shoulder, your face brushing up on his neck, and he starts to rock back and forth.
“The hell you are.” He finally rasps out. “You don’t get to leave, you don’t get to disappear, you don’t get to go.” The last word sounds like he is pleading. “You are one of the damn toughest people I know, and I don’t know what you got goin’ on, but I can tell you that whatever it is, it’s not worth leavin’ for. You don’t get to just disappear, not from here and not from me.” Tears start to build up in your eyes as your boyfriend lays out his gripping fear in his own way. The way he holds your head and keeps one arm around you tightly, the determination with the underlying fear in his voice, and the way he continues to rock the two of you, like a grounding presence for the two of you.
“I will tell you every damn day how much I love you, I will write shitty letters, do cringy poetry, I will blast everybody that has made you feel less than, I will do anything you tell me to- if it means keeping your skin clear and you alive- how can I ever call myself a hero if I am not able to save the one person that truly matters?” Your fists tighten in his shirt as you let out a choked sob, then another, then another- until you were letting everything out. All the pent-up feelings, the thoughts, the plans- they all came pouring out as your boyfriend held you, not talking, not pushing, just being there.
When you finally calm down, your crying turning into sniffles, you finally pull your head away to look at him, his eyes scan your face once more before he leans in and presses a soft, so unlike him, kiss to your lips. He pulls slightly away, leaving his forehead resting against yours as the two of you let out shaky breaths.
“I love you, which means I ain’t going anywhere- and neither are you.” He says after a moment. You can only nod your head before whispering.
some nights, the world feels too loud, yet you still feel far too quiet—like a match struck but never lit. nights where all the neon glow of the city outside your window seems to press against the dark like a heartbeat you can’t match, where the air itself feels thick with the weight of thoughts you can’t outrun. tonight is no different than any other—heavy, slow, soundless in a way that makes you feel like the world forgot you were supposed to be part of it.
your room is dim, curtains half-drawn, the moon carving a thin line across your floor. the stillness is dangerous; you know it. you’ve known it all week, maybe longer—like a soft collapse at the center of your chest, a sickening sense that your mind is folding in on itself, again. you tried to breathe, to distract yourself, to convince yourself you’re okay, that you aren’t one gust of wind away from crumbling. but it doesn't keep the thoughts from circling throughout your head, relentless and never-ending.
you’re simply exhausted by how much it takes to just exist.
that urge hits you the same way it does every other time, not sharp or dramatic—a whisper, a familiar, cold coaxing into habits better left behind. it promises you comfort, swears to cease the pain, the sadness—though you know fully well it never will; it never does, anyways. you don’t want to listen, but you do anyway, fingers curling to grasp the familiar, shining blade sitting at your nightstand.
you sit on the edge of your bed with your hands trembling. everything feels distant, muffled, like you’re underwater and the surface is far above you, laughing and unreachable. it’s not about wanting to die, no—more of wanting the ache to quiet down for just a moment, wanting something loud enough to drown out the noise inside your skull.
the moment passes fast and quiet, without spectacle.
for that split second, you think it’s gone silent, but it fades just as soon as it came. you were foolish to believe tonight would be different than any other.
warm, scarlet blood pools at the opening and slowly seeps down your wrist like flowing rivers of an unspoken aching. the sting makes you hiss just slightly, grasping the bedsheets beneath you so tight your knuckles go pale.
shame rushes in like tidewater, filling your lungs, heavy and choking. you curl in on yourself as though to hide from the world outside you, ashamed and disgusted. your hands press to your face, breath shaking, blood running in vivid streaks of deep red down your arms. you didn’t want this. you never did. you promised yourself, you promised him. and the guilt hits harder than the pain ever could.
your vision blurs just as a quiet buzzing from your phone breaks your spiral, but you don’t check it, don’t pay any mind to it at all. you can’t bring yourself to. everything in you feels raw and exposed, like your nerves are too close to the surface, every thought an open wound. the silence in your room grows thick, suffocating, and you feel yourself shrinking inside it, folding smaller and smaller in the dim corner where you’ve curled up, hoping you might somehow disappear.
minutes pass, maybe more. time becomes slow and heavy then finally, your dorm door clicks. a sound so soft you almost think you imagined it, until you hear his voice—warm, familiar, and heartbreakingly bright even through the muffled wood.
“baby? you in here?”
your stomach drops, entire body going rigid with panic. before you can find your voice, before you can wipe your face or stand or hide or even prepare, the door opens further, letting in the faint hallway light that spills across your floor.
kirishima steps inside, his expression soft with that dopey, affectionate smile he always wears when he thinks he’s catching you off guard. he’s holding something in a plastic bag, probably a late-night snack raid from the vending machines. his hair is a bit disheveled, a few strands falling over his forehead, and he looks impossibly warm, impossibly alive compared to the cold pit forming in your chest.
but then he sees you, and his entire world stops. the smile dies, color draining from his face. his eyes widen with a fear so visceral it shakes him to his core.
“oh my god—” his voice cracks, splinters, as though he’s just been punched. the bag hits the floor with a dull thud as he bolts toward you, quickly shutting the door in the process. he crosses the room in three frantic steps, falling to his knees beside you so fast the impact jolts the bed. his hands hover over you, trembling violently as he scans your shaking body, your posture, your breathing—everything.
“oh god—oh god, sweetheart—okay, hey, hey—look at me—please—” he’s trying to keep his voice steady though it doesn’t quite work.
you flinch away, instincts curling you tighter, shame flooding your veins.
“kiri—don’t,” you rasp out, barely audible. “i didn’t… i didn’t mean it i-i swear—i didn’t want you to see me like this—” but he’s already seen. he’s seen too much to ever forget.
his eyes dart downward yet again, and the realness, the urgency of this moment finally fully registers to him. something inside him collapses. his breath leaves him in one sharp, broken exhale. his hands fly to you—gentle, desperate—as he assesses how badly you’re injured, his panic rising like wildfire as crimson smears across his fingertips.
“baby—oh god—okay, hold on, hold on—” his voice, his hands, his entire body is shaking like he’s been electrocuted.
your tears finally spill over in a gut-wrenching sob that shakes through your entire body, chest heaving with the weight of your unsteady breathes. “kiri, i’m s-so sorry—i didn’t mean it, i—”
“no—don’t apologize,” he says instantly, voice strangled. “not right now. not ever for this. i just—i need to help you first. please. please just let me help.” you nod, weak, and something like relief flashes across his face, even through the terror.
with one hand steadying you, he reaches blindly toward your desk—yanking open the drawer hard enough that it rattles—and grabs the first-aid kit sitting inside with shaking fingers. he fumbles it open, breath hitching, then forces himself to slow down, to be steady. to be the hero he thinks he’s supposed to be for you.
he cleans you up with trembling hands, wrapping the gauze and bandages softly around your bloodied wrists, every movement excruciatingly gentle. his brows knit together, lips parted like he’s holding back a sob. “you scared the hell out of me,” he whispers, voice so raw it feels like a confession. “i-i walked in and—i didn’t know how bad it was—i didn’t know—”
“eiji…” your voice quivers,
he presses his forehead to yours, breath shuddering. “no, don’t talk—not yet. you don’t have to explain anything. i just—god, i just need you safe.”
when he finishes, he closes the kit with a soft click that echoes in the room’s stillness. then he lifts your hands, kissing them with slow, trembling reverence.
“thank you… for letting me help,” he breathes. your chest aches.
“you shouldn’t have to.”
“but i want to,” he says, immediate and fierce. “you’re not a burden. you’re not some problem i have to solve. you’re someone i love.” his voice softens as he continues. “you’re someone worth fighting for—even if the fight is invisible.”
your tears spill again, but this time, his thumbs brush them away with devastating tenderness. he stands only long enough to sit on the bed beside you, then pulls you gently into his arms—your body curling instinctively into his warmth, your cheek pressed to his chest where his heart beats fast and terrified beneath the surface.
he holds you like he’s afraid the world will break you if he loosens his grip. his arms wrap around you strong and protective, his hand stroking your back with slow, grounding motions until your breathing begins to match his.
“you’re not alone,” he murmurs into your hair. “not in this. not ever.” you feel yourself soften into him, exhaustion tugging at your limbs. for the first time all night, the weight in your chest loosens—not gone, but no longer crushing you.
“eiji?” you whisper.
“what’s up, hun?”
“can you… stay for the night…? please?” he exhales—a long, shaky breath full of relief, love, devotion.
“i’m staying,” he says. “all night. all morning. however long you need.” he shifts so you can lie down with him, pulling the blankets over you both. His arms slide around your waist, holding you close, grounding you with every breath he takes. as your breathing steadies, he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.
“i’m proud of you,” he murmurs. “for telling me. for trying. for surviving the night. even when it felt impossible.”
your voice cracks. “what if it gets bad again?”
his arms tighten around you, warm and unshakable. “then I’ll be right here,” he says softly. “holding you through it. every single time.” a tear slips down your cheek, soaking into his shirt. he kisses your hair. “you’re worth staying for,” he whispers.
you don’t remember falling asleep, only that the darkness feels less like drowning and more like drifting. only the way eijirou’s arms hold you like a promise, that for the first time in weeks, you believe tomorrow might not swallow you whole. because he’ll still be there when the quiet breaks again. because he loves you with a warmth strong enough to anchor you. because you’re not alone in the dark anymore.
pairing: hanta sero x chubby reader, denki kaminari x chubby reader
summary: your relationship with your bosses isn't as professional as it should be
word count: 10.4k words
a/n: i've been writing and editing this for over a month now and it's one of the longest fics i've written. this is truly a rollercoaster of a fic, there's a hell of a lot of smut but a hell of a lot of plot too. i really hope you all enjoy reading this <3
getting into a relationship with your boss is a bad idea. what's even worse than getting in a relationship with your boss is getting in a relationship with both of your bosses. and what's the worst out of everything is that you don't even know how to define that "relationship."
you were surprised when you got the job as secretary, you seemed underqualified, they wanted a long list of qualities, credentials and requirements that you couldn't fill, yet somehow you still got the job.
cellophane and chargebolt run a joint agency, making both of them technically your bosses, although you work more on the things that cellophane needs. you can tell by looking at old files that before you started working whoever filled the role of secretary neglected their role in working for both of them and solely focused on chargebolt, that means a lot more work for you, making sure everything is up-to-date and both of them are on the same level.
you barely spoke to them for the first couple months, you were trying to arrange for cellophane to join the photoshoot that a bunch of other heroes are doing, the previous secretary arranged for chargebolt to take part but not cellophane. it's driving you mad to make all these phone calls to agencies and companies.
they had seen you around the office, they thought you were cute. they're the one's who suggested you getting hired. they saw your file, barely flicking through all the applicants, it's not their job anyway to have the final say on the next secretary but their manager told them, when they have the time, to look through the files anyway, just in case they wanted to put in their input.
they weren't paying much attention until they saw your file, it immediately caught their eye, the picture attached by a paperclip to the front of the file showcasing how pretty you are. they opened it up to see your qualifications, underwhelming to say the least, maybe for a regular job not so much but this is a job to be the only current secretary for two well-known and well loved heroes. that didn't stop them for suggesting you to get hired, something about you drew them in.
when sero found out through a sidekick that you've been focused on him he doesn't hide his grin, the old secretary had this thing for kaminari, it was obvious and had affected work. kaminari gets giddy every time he sees you frazzled always putting down the phone with force, it's so cute! he commits the faces you make when you're working to memory.
they just have to have you! they've never had someone work so diligently for them.
a party changes everything. the agency is celebrating a big success and neither of them can take their eyes of you, like predators watching their prey. you're none the wiser, making idle chit-chat with some of the girls from accounting.
you were surprised when your bosses can over to talk to you, offering you a drink. rule number one: never accept a drink that is open- that rule doesn't really apply when it comes to heroes though, right? you drink and laugh. you're no dancer and they don't try and get you to. they stand by you the whole time, talking the night away.
you didn't expect to kiss your boss that night. you didn't expect to kiss both your bosses that night but you were wrong. they lead you back to kaminari's, with promises of getting to spend more time together in each others company and they fulfilled that promised.
kaminari leads you through the door, holding onto your wrist. sero is behind you, shutting the door behind you and grabbing your wide hips. all of a sudden you're sandwiched between two lean bodies and you have no idea where to put your hands or what to do. you don't think about the consequences that night. you lose yourself on their lips on your neck and their bodies pressed against yours.
when you wake up you're wrapped in a warm blanket that smells heavily like chargebolt. they're both gone, you're not the most surprised, as their secretary you know their schedule and know they have patrol and it could be awkward to wake you up. you leave as quick as you can.
you thought it would be awkward at work. you thought they would stay away from you. move on to the next girl they see. you were wrong. they make an effort to go out of their way to talk to you, to see you.
three days later you're pressed against the window on the top floor, facing out. you and sero are the only people in the building, everyone has left and kaminari is still on patrol. "can you come in here?" cellophane asks just as you're about to leave, you have your bag in your hand and you've already logged off your computer and turned it off but of course you go into your boss' office and he wastes no time running his hands all over your body, over your clothes and slamming you against the glass window.
"sir?" you whimper.
he groans, "yeah babe, keep calling me that." your shirt's buttons are ripped off from sero grabbing them without caring if they break off, and pulls your bra down so your breasts spill over. your cheek is pressed against the glass and your tits are too. your body is arched towards him and he shuffles up your pencil skirt.
without any warning he sticks two fingers in your cunt, plunging them into you at an unforgiving pace until you cum with a scream, you were already wet, it only took seconds of him ripping your shirt off and touching you for you to become wet, the palm of his hand stimulating your clit with each push of his fingers. you feel too much pleasure to think about the consequences if anyone looks up they'd be able to see you pressed up onto the window. you're like the window pane you're pressed up against, foggy due to your breathing, and just like the glass your head is foggy with pleasure.
you don't think about people seeing you when you scream out 'sir' over and over again when sero's lengthy cock repeatedly hits that spongy spot in you. breath fogs up the glass more heavily with each passing second while sero hammers into you, you're so wet that it's dripping down your thighs and causing a mess on his hero costume that he haphazardly half pulled down in a rush to get inside you.
five days after that incident in sero's office, you walk in on kaminari moaning your name. you have papers in your hand that require his signature so you go to his office and knock on the door. it's the first time going into either one of their offices since what happened with sero so you try to clear your head before calling out to him, literally shaking your head in an attempt to shake the flashbacks and imagery out of your head.
"chargebolt, i have some files i need you to sign." you think you hear a moan and choked groan of your name but you know you must be imagining it, thinking about five days ago and replaying what happened in your head. you were wrong though.
"yeah, come in," kaminari calls back and his voice sounds... deep? gravelly? maybe he's ill? you'll have to go to your desk and see if you have anything to help after giving him these documents. you think you have paracetamol in your bag and you remember seeing honey in the break room if his throat is sore, it does sound like it. he's not ill though. you open the door expecting to see your boss looking kind of bored because he's ill but instead you see him fisting his cock.
you drop all your papers in shock and stutter and stammer, "sorry! sorry sir, i just-" you want to pick up the papers and close the door all at once and in your panicked mindset you try and do both simultaneously grabbing the papers on the floor with one hand while clutching the door handle with the other, ready to fling it open and close it in the next second.
"woah," you hear him chuckle. you hear a wet slick slapping noise. "why don't you close the door for me baby?" he chokes back a groan as he nears the end of the sentence.
"yes! sorry, i'm leaving!" you say entirely too loud, voice squeaking.
kaminari matches your volume, "stop!" you do what he says, not moving, your eyes still looking down at the papers and he smirks. "did i say leave?"
you keep your eyes on the floor, not wanting to look up, you still hear that wet slapping noise. "wh-what? i'm confused."
"of course you are baby, you're not the brightest." he coos at you and you snap your eyes up at him, angered, it's an automatic response, wanting to fight back against such a statement momentarily forgetting the complete situation you're in. the words start to die in your throat when you see his cock on full display, his hand quickly wrapping round it and moving up and down, that night you never got a good look at it. you don't realise that you stare at his cock for over ten seconds before looking at his face. it's not your fault it took ten seconds though... it's pretty. you don't know if you would call a dick pretty before, possibly in porn once or twice, but you can't deny it isn't, five maybe six inches with a sizeable vein down the side, with the pink mushroom tip weeping.
"i don't approve of you insulting my intelligence sir!" you tell him, you stare hard, your glare steady even though your mind is racing.
he chuckles before groaning, you try and ignore the effect the noises he's making gives you. "i didn't mean anything by it baby. i know you're clever. you did sort out all of the old secretary's mistakes all by yourself. you can just get a bit flustered and confused sometimes- innocent. opening the door just now even though you could definitely hear noises from inside, getting all confused when we came up to you at the party, gave you a drink and spent the night talking to you on your own, coming back to mine not realising that me and hanta was into you," his voice sounds patronising and affectionate all at the same time. he leans his head back on the chair momentarily, "ffuck," kaminari says breathlessly.
your eyebrows are furrowed as you listen to him. "that doesn't mean i'm not bright," your voice has softened out of the angry tone accidentally and you keep subconsciously looking down at his dick.
"ffuck baby, yeah yeah. i'm sorry, you're right. i didn't mean it like that, 'm sorry. can y' forgive me?" his words start to slur and his breathing seems to quicken. "come here for me baby, you forgive me right? you're the best secretary ever. come kneel next to me."
you do what you're told. neatly gathering up the papers and piling them high on the floor before crawling over to kaminari. it wasn't even meant to be seductive, in your head you decided this was the more logical solution, it was easier than standing up only to sit back down after taking three steps. so in that sense the crawling wasn't sexy, at least, not to you. the sight had kaminari groaning sinfully as you crawl over and kneel between his legs, looking up at him.
two weeks after you're back at kaminari's, sero's bouncing you up and down on his cock brutally without respite, while kaminari's slamming his cock in your mouth.
"your pussy feels so good babe, like she never wants me to go." sero groans, his hands digging into the meat of your hips, moving you up and down.
you whimper around kaminari's cock and kaminari thinks at that moment your quirk might be some kind of vibration quirk related to sex because it nearly makes him cum on the spot but he's able to hold back, holding onto your head in both hands fucking into your mouth quickly and sloppily.
four days after that, the same smacking noises from before can be heard throughout the building as kaminari's behind you, fucking you hard and fast, with your ass jiggling. your back is arched and your head is pressed into the cushion while you whine a combination of 'chargebolt' and 'kaminari'. kaminari slams into you unforgivably before stopping and grabbing hold of your waist, you yelp at the feeling but then whimper at the sudden lack of movement. "what did i tell you about calling me kaminari baby? it's denki remember." he runs his hands down your body and squeezes your plush hips waiting for you to nod and say you will before going back to fucking you. "call me 'denki' baby, let me hear it out those pretty lips of yours."
you do as you told, moaning out "denki-" the ending of his name strained as you desperately try to claw onto the material of the sofa trying to have a semblance of composure.
sero grins when he hears what denki said, this whole time he's been next to you, perched on the sofa opposite, touching himself while watching the show you and denki have been putting on. "denki huh? when did you start using given names?" hanta bucks his hips up, meeting his fist halfway. "i don't think it's fair that it's only denki and not me too. i like the whole sir thing that you say sometimes puppy but i don't know... i wanna hear you say hanta." hanta taps your head to get you to look at him and face away from the cushion before cumming on your face.
you've been sleeping with your bosses for eleven months now. you haven't slept with anyone else but you know that's not the case with them. you don't know what to say to them or if you should ask. you don't know what to do. you know you should be an adult and have an honest, upfront, conversation with them but you don't want whatever this is to end. it would be embarrassing for you to hear their answer, you just know it. you don't think they'd fire you but they would be weirded out instead about how much you seem to care about casual sex, that every night they're not fucking you they're fucking someone else.
it hurts seeing tabloid articles online about your bosses spotted with models and popular heroes, but you know you have no right to be. you're just a secretary... you're a secretary in love.
you ignore those feelings the best as you can, you've been in love before but never with two people at the same time. the times you have been in love have been good to you, and when those times ended in heartbreak you could still remember the love.
you had dated those you loved and about the ones you didn't, those feelings of love for someone is such a pleasant feeling either way but this time it doesn't feel pleasant. how can it? it's completely unattainable and it's being shoved in your face every day, yet you're still having sex with them...
another party is coming up, you wonder if you'll end up going home with hanta and denki again. you don't see them. you could never admit that you were searching for them but your search turned out empty and unfruitful. 'i guess that means i'm going home alone tonight,' you sigh a little against your glass.
one of the guys from the support items team comes to talk to you, it's nice- a pleasant distraction. you haven't had these kind of interactions for months, it started off with small talk then evolved into flirtatious comments on his end, you don't stop him. maybe you should have but at the same time you couldn't think of a good enough reason to. he's cute in a dorky kind of way and he's making you smile more tonight than you have all week. you're not planning to go home with him or anything but you like his company, he's kind.
denki and hanta, however, do not like this new company you're keeping. they spotted you as soon as you walked in, looking so tempting in that outfit, clinging onto your curves in all the right way and looking absolutely stunning as always. they stayed where they were chatting up two girls from accounting that they've seen you talk to a few times.
you don't drink alcohol all night, with you having work early tomorrow, plus the fact that you don't feel prepared if you have flashbacks of the first night with your bosses after the previous party. maybe it's the stress of what's happening with your bosses that's throwing your body through a loop but no matter how much you drink you're still feeling dehydrated, constantly wetting your lips and you end up having to excuse yourself from the conversation you're having, needing to go to the bathroom.
they haven't taken their eyes off you all night. out of the corner of their eyes, they're watching you like a hawk, seeing every time you laugh and smile and the whole time all they can think is 'that's our job.' the girls from accounting are giggling at their jokes and their playful flirting but they're not interested in the slightest, instead they're itching to pull you away from the guy you've been talking with all night.
when you leave to go to the bathroom hanta and denki follow you- cornering you, crowding you. you don't take it as that though. as you wash your hands with the strawberry scented antibacterial foam hand wash, that you ordered a few months ago after one of the sidekicks hand became dry and sore after using the old one, two tall figures appear through the door. you spot them behind you through the mirror, "oh hello," the little smile you give them nearly melts on the spot, nearly. "what are you doing in the girls bathroom? this... is the girls bathroom right?" you question, doubting yourself.
hanta snickers at your tone. brushing his hand against your upper arm hanta closes the distance between you, sauntering over to you, so close that you can smell his ginger and woody aftershave from beside you, "you're in the right place puppy," his breath hitting your skin makes you shiver.
"so why are you in here? i didn't even see you earlier on, i didn't know you were here, i assumed you were busy." you stay as still as a statue, you should be moving, you know you should, but you don't.
every time it's like they put you in a trance, falling in love does that to a person you suppose.
"awe, was you watching out for us baby? waiting for us?" denki teases. he's sly in his question, playful and teasing but at the same time wanting a reaction or answer from you. he doesn't know if he should linger by the door just in case someone decides to come in and interrupt or if he should come closer to you.
"i'm your secretary, it's my job to know where you are," you say with enough conviction as you can muster. you can't bear to give them the satisfaction of knowing it has nothing to do with your job and you just wanted to see them.
"that's a real shame baby 'cause when we walked in we saw you and kept an eye on you all night." denki approaches you, his knuckles caress your body, starting at your squishy stomach up towards the bottom of your breasts, making your whole body tingle and your nerves to light up.
you don't reply, feeling like you've lost the ability to speak, your senses rapidly getting overwhelmed with each touch.
hanta presses his mouth to your cheek, wet lips touching you ever so gently. when his lips touch you, you can smell the rum on his breath. "we kept an eye on you all night. seeing you laugh. seeing you smile." hanta's tone is light but you can sense there's something hidden behind his words.
finally you're able to get sentences out, maybe jumbled and with the syllables messed up, maybe your voice is weak, but still spoken, "i was speaking to makoto from the items support department, he's kind."
"oh makoto huh?" denki's touch gets more purposeful. "kinder than us?" denki questions. hanta chuckles at the edge in denki's tone, that he knows, for a fact, that denki doesn't even realise he had. denki's not a jealous person, he's not possessive- not normally. when it comes to you though...
"chargebolt you haven't got the kindest hero persona out there, it's not really your public image, it's not the first word i would use to describe you... there's deku and lemillion though..." your voice is nearly a mumble, thinking out loud.
denki pinches your hip making you yelp and interrupting you from your train of thought. hanta grins at the interaction burrowing his head in the crook of your neck.
"for starters makoto isn't a hero anyway and secondly it's not like we have personas of being unkind or being rude. those 'kind' heroes could be dicks behind closed doors as far as you know, that's their personas that are kind, not them. you know us, chargebolt and cellophane, you know us- denki kaminari and hanta sero." denki's voice lowers and gets husky.
hanta speaks up, adding to denki's sentiment, "puppy that's not very nice to say about kaminari. you know how kind we are." hanta turns your head to look at him, holding your chin in between his thumb and index finger tilting your head in his direction. this whole conversation since those two have walked into the room has made you speechless and with what hanta just said and did, you get even more flustered then you were previously. his grip on your chin is firm but doesn't hurt, "let's get out of here puppy. we've got to show you how kind we are."
denki smirks, "sero's right baby. we've got to remind you, don't we? we're the only ones that should be making you laugh and smile."
your heart races as you repeat his words in your head. you know how inappropriate your relationship is with your bosses but when one of them says something so possessive you feel dizzy. "but-"
"ah-ah-ah, no buts baby, just let us handle it," denki tells you.
you follow them out the door, denki's holding onto your wrist pulling you behind him and hanta's after you as you're trying your best to push your feelings out of your mind.
just before you reach where the majority of people are hanta wraps his arms around your soft waist, loosely, "go say bye to makoto if you don't he'll be waiting for you all night." they would.
you say a short goodbye to makoto, your bosses leaning against a pillar close to where you are, watching you. when you walk back to them they push you to the exit, not bothering to speak and tell the two girls from accounting they're leaving before they left.
it's a mess of limbs when you reach denki's. you don't remember the last time you did anything on their beds sexually but denki's forceful as he drags you to the bedroom pushing you onto the bed.
your body bounces up and down and you don't have time to be surprised and take a glance around his room because hanta climbs into the bed behind you, pulling your body against his chest.
denki gets in front of you and pulls you slightly towards him, situated in between the two of them, resting the top of your body up against hanta's chest, trapping you in between his strong thighs, all while the rest is is lying down and limp, denki kisses you, passionately. it's rare when he does that, passionate and taking total control, all teeth and tongue.
while hanta moves your neck to the side slightly running his tongue along your neck, leaving little nips in his wake, kissing everywhere, and surprising you by biting you hard on occasion to hear you yelp, your noises quickly getting swallowed by denki's kisses.
denki seems hurried as he rushes, moving his hand up your dress, pushing up the fabric and running his hand up your thick thigh.
in contrast hanta takes his time, his kisses still being littered on your neck as he's lazily pinching your nipples over your dress. the comparison between the two leave you light-headed. denki pushes your plush thighs open, barely, just enough for his finger to brush against your cotton underwear, you jolt and try to move closer to his touch. watching you jolt denki grins, satisfied at your reaction.
denki opens up your thighs more, open to the point that it nearly hurts, as he starts lowering himself down your body, he's roughly pulling down your underwear and throwing it behind him, landing underneath his dresser. he pushes up your dress all the way up above the pouch of stomach and when you catch his eye, before he continues lowering his body down your own, the glint in it makes you shudder. denki hooks one of his hands underneath your thigh and with the other grabs your hip, squeezing the malleable skin in between his fingers. the whine you let out is unholy as denki licks a long strip up your pussy.
hanta chuckles, "so noisy puppy, let denki have his meal okay?" his tone is condescending but you can't tell, your head feels fuzzy and your whines only get louder.
you attempt to buck your hips but the grip denki has on you is firm. he soon abandons his hold on you to move to cunt, his two thumbs pulling your pussy lips open almost pussydrunk and he groans at your taste, now that you're completely exposed he can get closer, taste more.
you squirm and hanta tuts, "none of that now, let's help him yeah?" hanta holds onto your hips, his long arms reaching down and pinning you to the mattress. even with hanta's hold on you you still try to move and squirm, all efforts unsuccessful in between two pro heroes strength.
everything is so messy, denki's saliva mixed with your own slick, you're so wet that it's dripping down your ass leaving a wet puddle underneath you. his tongue keeps fucking your hole he mumbles, "s' good. taste so good. best pussy i' ever had."
you shake your head, hot tears running down your face, "can't! too much!"
"are you sensitive babe, do you want to cum? is denki teasing you too much?" hanta asks patronisingly. you nod your head, arms flailing, whining loud, your head full of cotton wool. hanta grins wide, "denki, make her cum." you've never heard one of them tell the other what to do before and denki ignores him. hanta rolls his eyes, "if you keep doing that i'll just keep her to myself, she deserves to cum for all the pretty noises she's been making," hanta sounds the kindest he has since you were thrown on the bed, getting rid of that condescending and teasing tone momentarily. normally it would be the other way around with hanta keeping you on the edge but currently denki doesn't necessarily care about making you cum, he just wants to keep tasting you- it's additive, you're additive. he wants to keep proving to you that no one else can make you feel this good. denki mumbles something that you can't make out but even if you could you wouldn't be able to understand and process it in the state you're in. the vibration of his voice makes you tingle.
even though hanta told denki you still wasn't prepared for when denki started flicking your clit with his tongue then suddenly moving to sucking it gently. you scream.
the noise effects both of them, hanta thinks it's adorable. his pinches on your nipples get harder and his kisses on your neck turn to hickeys. denki's chest fills with pride, he's made you make that noise. nothing else matters to him right now apart from your pussy and the sounds you make.
it wasn't his intention to use his quirk. it was a complete accident but he's so caught up in the moment, little zaps of electricity leave his fingertips shocking you, his long delicate fingers are still keeping you open not realising what's happening. the pleasure that was building up in you, snaps in an instant, the electricity making you feel things you've never felt before. you cum with a scream, and denki moves back to savour anything else he can.
when you cum hanta sticks two fingers in your mouth to muffle the scream and you suck them, "good girl," he praises you huskily, he was about to tell you to suck but he realised that they've trained you well that you don't need to be told. "good puppy," he coos and you miss how he slowly humps your back, grinding against you.
denki still hasn't stopped, still not letting up. your scream has muted and hanta takes his fingers out your mouth, trailing them over your face and covering it in your own saliva. your scream has turned into pathetic whimpers, it makes hanta's cock hurt with how hard he is.
"denki if you don't stop you won't get the chance to fuck her," that gets him to move, lifting up to look at you. his cheeks are red and his mouth and chin is wet, it makes you feel all hot inside. with the back of his arm denki wipes his mouth and dives in to kiss you.
"who gets her first?" denki asks and you hate how turned on you get when they talk about you, excluding you from the conversation, even though you're right there.
"you already made her cum once, it's my turn," hanta tells him and denki sighs but nods his head in agreement. "plus it should give you a chance to calm down, you used your quirk on her," hanta's voice is flat when he tells him that but he has a smirk on his face.
denki kisses the corner of your mouth chastely, "sorry about that baby, just couldn't help myself," your breathing hitches, "best secretary ever," and just being reminded about that makes your stomach drop. being reminded that this isn't normal, they probably sleep with tons of girls, they don't care about you like you care about them. they don't love you. you're just a good secretary.
denki moves to your side and kisses you again while hanta gets off the bed and takes denki's place. denki then moving to where hanta was. switching positions. "lift up for me," hanta's voice is husky and he strokes your hip. you listen to his instructions and lift your hips, your weight leaning against denki. hanta slides up the rest of your dress, both of them watch with rapt attention at the bounce your breasts make.
denki takes over from hanta, "arms up baby," your arms feel heavy but you do what your told as he takes the rest of your dress up, removing you from the sleeves and guiding your head out the hole. denki moves his hand between your two bodies and expertly undoes your bra. after all this time you still feel the urge to cover your breasts and as your tits drops you attempt to cover them, thinking about how experienced they are and how many girls they take home. "none of that now," denki clasps onto your wrists, one in each hand. "let us see how gorgeous you are." you let denki move your wrists and in response he sucks a hickey on your neck near one of hanta's as reward.
at some point while moving to take denki's spot hanta had taken off his jeans and boxers and now he's finally out of restricting clothes he just wants his dick in you as quick as he can. hanta rubs your thigh, squeezing your doughy inner thighs in his large palm. he's slow and it's almost to the point of unbearable as he pushes into you. even after denki ate you out and made you cum it's still a stretch as each inch moves into you reaching so far into you it makes you feel like it's all the way into your throat. before hanta all your previous sexual partners fail miserable in comparison as he pushes all nine inches into you.
your breath is stolen from you as he bottoms out. hanta doesn't wait for you to adjust he slowly thrusts out of you and continues that pace, moving in and out of you slowly, languid thrusts occasionally the odd harsh quick thrust added to see your moans turn to whimpers.
denki makes soft circular motions on your waist and rolls your nipple between his fingers, kissing your neck, cheek and jaw. "good girl, so proud of you for taking all of sero. you're so good for us. his cock's so big and it's hard to fit it all in that pretty pussy-"
"oh, really? so big, yeah?" hanta interrupts him and smirks. denki glares at him. the next thrust is particularly rough, making you move and bounce forward, it nearly makes you knock your head against denki's.
you grab hold of denki's arm and he coos at you. "it feels really good doesn't it? see, we know how to treat you right."
hanta licks his lips, his hooded almond eyes moving all over your body. you don't realise his plans until you're suddenly folded in half, your rolls pressed against each other, his hands up against your thighs pushing them to your chest. he takes his dick out of you and you whine as the loss, he grins. the new position isn't one you were very familiar with until you met your bosses but now you have become very familiar with it. by the end of it, you always lose the ability to think and even move your body, you doubt this time will be any different.
hanta plunges his cock inside you again, this time in the new position, and you shriek- it feels even bigger now. his pace is different from before, this time sped up. you hear the squelching sounds that your pussy is making, it almost makes you shy. your arms frantically flail, trying to find perches on somewhere until denki grips them in his hand, intertwining your fingers with his and pining your hands to each of your sides on the bed. your shyness from the squelching noises that you're creating is drowned out by your constant strings of loud moans and incoherent pleading and calling out of their names.
denki takes pity on you knowing that the window is open and that if you keep this up everyone in the street will hear, if other higher ups from the agency happen to find out there will be some serious gossip about you so he squeezes your cheeks together. "you've got to be quiet honey, i love the cute noises you make but you'll get in trouble. i live in the penthouse but you're being so noisy and one of our sidekicks patrols this area everyday, they'd recognise your voice so you've got to be quiet," he says tenderly but you wish you could focus on all his words because with what little energy and brainpower you have right now you're honing on the fact that denki called you 'honey', he's never called you that before and it sounded almost too affectionate when he said it.
hanta groans, "if she's being too loud stick your cock in her mouth kami, that'll shut her up."
still holding onto your checks denki replies, "hmm, i don't know. i think i want to just focus on our pretty secretary tonight." he's still been rutting against your back in a irregular pace as soon as he was behind you and kissing you all over though.
"suit-" hanta groans, "s-suit yourself. you focus on making her cum so much she can't think then. i'll fill her up with cum until it's spilling out of her," he grins lazily kissing your knee.
at this point you're too far gone to listen to what the words they're speaking mean, hanta continues to rub that spongy spot in you with each thrust and denki's casual display of dominance by grabbing your cheeks plus calling you honey makes you feel like you're floating.
"of course she's going to cum. i've already made her cum once. isn't that right baby?" he turns your head to look at him and after seeing your eyes all glazed over he smirks, nuzzling your nose patronisingly. "sero's fucked you dumb huh? that's okay honey, just let us handle it."
he removes his hand off your cheeks, instead opting to cover your whole mouth with his palm to muffle your sounds of pleasure. with his other hand he reaches down your body near to where you and hanta are connected, it's so heavenly in his eyes and your pussy looks so puffy. he can tell it's sensitive from his previous assault earlier in the night and starts rubbing your clit. his hand does little to muffle your noises as you try and squirm and move, both simultaneously trying to chase his touch and run from it. in your folded up position all attempts are useless as you take what they did you, you can barely move your body as it is anyway and your body is limp lying back against denki's chest. it doesn't take long for him to make you cum again, with hanta still hammering away inside your pussy and denki's gentle touch on your already sensitive clit you explode. body shaking and moaning so loud that denki's shushes you. he keeps rubbing you through your orgasm but the hand that was covering your mouth moves, he kisses you deeply, swallowing your moans, and wraps his arm around the top of your chest to keep you stable as you shake.
when you cum hanta clenches his teeth and his pace momentarily falters as he feels you pulse around him. "you can cum again puppy. i know you can." he wants to feel you cum one more time before he does.
your head lulls to the side of denki's chest and he peppers kisses all over your face. "one more time baby."
this time it takes even less time for your release, hanta's pace is gradually picking up as he's nearing his end. denki's putting more pressure on your clit when he touches you, it's a little sore but it feels so good, with his other hand denki's flicking your nipples again, alternating between the two. you babble out things like, "t' much!" but they continue.
"i know you can take it puppy, you feel so good around me. sucking me in like you never want me to leave. just let go." hanta's hips are snapping into against you now, so close to cumming.
you don't 'let go' as such but let it wash over you, your orgasm comes in a small wave as you mumble out something that neither of them can make out at all.
you're completely slumped against denki, he's holding your hand again and groping your breasts.
"fuck, well done puppy, g-good job," hanta groans low, it's almost a growl as he cums, ropes of warm cum spilling into you. hanta hardly ever cums in you. you're on birth control so it's no issue but he seems to prefer cumming on your tits or face, if anyone does cum in you it's denki so it's a change when he holds you tight, gripping your thighs so hard they'll leave bruises as he shoves his cock into you as far as possible before unloading in you.
hanta's careful as he gently puts your legs down and denki pulls you up so you're sitting on his lap. "are you okay honey?" you body feels limp but you do your best to nod. denki kisses the crown of your forehead, "that's good."
you don't notice hanta leaving the bed and coming back with a towel. "i'm just going to get you cleaned up okay. don't worry i used warm water on the towel, i know you don't like it when its cold when i'm wiping you clean."
hanta swipes the towel over your body while denki holds you and strokes your hip. "how's that huh? we're kind right. you're our secretary- all ours. no one else makes you feel this good."
tears quickly fill up your waterline, rapidly they start flowing down your face. you don't even realise you're doing it, the whirlpool of emotions are too much for you and you cry. you just want to run away from them and hide.
immediately hanta stops moving the towel noticing that tears are falling and quickly moves towards you, wiping away tears with his finger and kissing your cheek. once denki's realised a second after he's making soft patterns with his thumb on your hand, kissing your jaw on the opposite side where hanta is.
they assume that it's a subdrop or something similar, they've had people cry after sex with them before, overwhelmed and crying, they know it doesn't mean a bad thing. they hold you but it just makes you cry more because those are reasons you love them and you hate that you'll always be theirs, their secretary, but they won't ever be yours.
"we're here honey, we're not going to go anywhere. do you want to watch a show? maybe one of those cartoons you like? i have those pretzels you like in the cupboard. do you want one of us to fetch some while we get you some water?" denki attempts to sooth you but it doesn't stop your flow of tears.
hanta starts to move, swinging his legs of the bed but with shaky hands you grab his arm, before scolding yourself in your head for the action and quickly dropping it. hanta sits back down and kisses your forehead. "i'll stay for a minute and then i'll quickly go into the kitchen but i'll be as fast as ingenium and i'll be back as soon as you can even blink."
"is there anything we can do for you?" denki continues stroking you tenderly and shake your head. he frowns. "i hate seeing you cry so much baby, let's bring my laptop into the room and we can watch something from here."
"you really should buy a tv for your bedroom kaminari," hanta tells him.
"maybe but i've never had a need for it before... as soon as i enter my bedroom i'm asleep. with the free time i do have, i prefer spending it in other ways..." denki replies almost wistfully and hanta hums.
"how about this... kami could buy one of those huge televisions that nearly take up the whole wall so it gives us a reason to come visit?" hanta cups your cheek and makes eye contact. when he looks at your expression he comes closer to you, his voice was gentle before but now it's taking an even tender tone, "tell us what you're feeling puppy. what's going on in that wonderful head of yours?"
denki furrows his eyes and tries to tilt his head so he's at an angle where he can see your face, it's unsuccessful at first so he keeps trying.
"n-n- there's nothing," you stutter, trying to look away. your chest hurts.
"you know you can tell us," hanta presses you for an answer knowing something is wrong by the expression you're wearing. it's not like previous times when past sexual partners cried. you keep quiet. "we can't have our secretary being sad now, can we?" at that your lip wobbles and you bite your bottom lip from sobbing.
"don't you want to be our secretary anymore honey?" denki's voice is quiet and he's watching you carefully.
panic.
"please don't fire me!" you voice breaks and sounds raspy.
they look at you in shock. "we're not going to fire you baby but we need you to help us understand," denki voice is soft like he's trying not to spook a wild animal. you shake your head. "come on, talk to us."
"p-please don't fire me. i don't want to stop seeing you." your voice is shaky and so is the rest of your body.
'this is fine right? i'm not admitting to anything, i'm just saying i like their company. it's not a confession or anything. i'm not telling them how much they actually mean to me or how i couldn't handle them not being in my life.'
the two men take this very differently to each other. denki hears the blood pumping in his ears and he just knows his face is bright red because you want to see him and hearing that makes him feel so happy it's like he could burst.
hanta's first thought is 'huh?' he would never think to fire you after all you've done for him and the agency but if something did happen and you were fired, or you decided to leave the agency yourself, you would still see them, just because hypothetically they didn't employ you doesn't mean he would not see you again. you working at the agency is great, it's only a few steps out of his office until there's your desk, it gives him lots of excuses to see you but he would just find other ways if you stopped working for him.
"what do you mean stop seeing you babe?" hanta asks, probing for more of an answer from you.
"i-i... i don't want to stop seeing you."
denki grins wide, nuzzling the side of your face, "i wouldn't want that either."
"denki quit it for a second. why do you think we'd stop seeing you?"
you look at him all wide eyed, millions of reasons rushing through your head that it's obvious to why but finding it hard to articulate them all so you go with the most obvious one. "if you did fire me then we wouldn't be in the same building everyday and you'd have no reason to talk to me again. they'd probably hire a new secretary... a pretty secretary, one that you'd talk to."
one to talk to... one to sleep with. a more convenient fuck.
now it's denki's turn to be confused, "why would we care about anyone apart from you?"
"huh?" it's almost comical the noise and pitch you make.
"we'd never fire you anyway but why would we care about anyone else? we have you."
"i think denki is saying that neither of us can think of a reason why we wouldn't see you."
your mouth opens and closes, trying to digest the information, the tears have started to dry on your face. "b-but i'm just your secretary! you might find someone better." you voice gets quieter with each word.
"just?" denki's voice has an edge to it and you look up at him. "just our secretary?" the circular motions on your skin turn to him gripping your pudgy skin, definitely leaving bruises, almost as an action of keeping you in his hold and not letting you go. "do you really think you're just our secretary?"
your mouth opens again and it feels so dry. "i-i... you always said i was your secretary."
denki's eyes narrow, displeased with your answer, "are we just your bosses then?"
"what, n-no! i mean you're..."
"we screwed this up big time," hanta sighs and you and denki look at him confused. "you were crying just now, can you tell us why?"
all the energy is drained out of you, the fight to keep quiet has left. denki's confusing tone just adding to the whole situation so you give up on trying to not tell the truth. you're almost silent as you respond, "denki called me yours, both of yours."
hanta hums, "why did that make you cry though? don't you want to be ours?" denki stiffens behind you at the thought.
you shake your head, "that's not it..."
"then what is it puppy?"
"you say i'm yours but you're not mine." your words are almost inaudible, in truth you don't want them to hear- they do though, not only are they incredibly honed in on what you're saying but they're also incredible heroes with many talents like being trained on hearing things from a distance if needed.
"what does that mean?" hanta knows he's close to getting you explain it all and to pick up all the puzzle pieces and put them together to understand everything.
"you... you always - i don't um sleep with other people and there's um always posts and articles about you and women... you flirt with girls all the time... i know you hook up with them too... i know- i know i'm not the only girl you're sleeping with."
"so that's what this is about. you should of told us how you feel puppy and we should of talked it through with you. i guess we didn't think it was necessary and you knew." hanta caresses your knee.
"talked?" your voice is soft as you wonder what he means.
denki was stunned after hearing what you thought, the idea that you thought like that never crossed his mind. "do you really think we do all this with anyone else honey? as soon as your file came up on our desks with who to hire we just had to have you, you're so beautiful. do you think we're so insatiable for others, that anytime we're alone we're touching them? do you think we do that for everyone? or do you think we personally make sure girls aren't overworking and staying at the agency late, do you think we make sure to walk them home no matter what? of course we don't. we don't make sure people are eating every meal and bringing them takeout food when they're busy. we don't feed their cat when they visit their parents for a few days. we don't trust them enough to spend money on things to help the agency and everyone who works there like getting safer soap that won't irritate heroes hands even though that's not in their job description and it's a whole different department that deals with finance. we don't try to convince them to get a flat closer to ours in a safer neighbourhood that we'll help pay for. we haven't seen you as just our secretary since the first kiss." denki rambles, listing out all the things that seem so clear to him, running his hands through his soft yellow hair.
you honestly don't think this is real, just a dream conjured up, letting yourself indulge after sex in denki's bed.
"baby it's nearly been a year, i know i never called you our girlfriend or anything but we haven't slept with anyone else. why would we? i'm glad you mentioned that you haven't either because if you said all this but didn't mention if you had or hadn't i'd be thinking if you've been sleeping with people that aren't us." denki kisses your shoulder blade.
you don't respond, still believing this to all be a dream.
"are you still with us?" hanta cups your cheek again, looking into your eyes.
your eyes flutter briefly, "i think i like this dream."
hanta barks out a laugh in surprise and denki becomes the human equivalent of the blue screen momentarily before snapping out of a stupor and saying, "this isn't a dream honey."
you pout, "of course it is."
denki tilts your head by your chin and swoops in to kiss you, "this isn't a dream."
hanta flicks denki's arm, "remember to share kami." reluctantly denki pulls away from your lips, you lean your head closer to him trying to chase his lips. "no fair puppy, i'm right here." he taps your cheek and when you turn to look at him he passionately kisses you, his hand going to your waist. "does that feel like a dream to you?"
you look down and fiddle with your fingers. "it feels real... have neither of you really been sleeping with anyone else? people are always posting about it and there's always photos..."
"we haven't honey. there's no one for us that isn't you." denki intertwines your hands.
"if it really is real... then-"
denki cuts you off, squeezing your hands in his once, "it is."
"okay... so if it is... then what's next?"
"i'm going to get you water and bring some snacks and the laptop in," hanta replies.
"that's-that's n- am i still your secretary?"
"it's your decision babe. if you want to quit you can then we can help you find another job but if possible we'd like that job somewhere near the agency so we can walk you home after your shift," hanta tells you.
"if i stay will i still be just your secretary?" your voice is hushed and unsure.
"i thought we covered that you were never just our secretary." denki holds you closer to his body.
"that wasn't what she was saying denki and you know that." hanta responds flatly.
"shut up," denki tells him, his face buried in your shoulder, making his words muffled. "you can be whatever you want to be honey."
"what do you want me to be?"
hanta doesn't care as long as you're in each others life- sexually and romantically, and that you're committed to each other, and faithful. he doesn't remember the last time he even considered to put a label on someone, he doesn't know if he ever has.
denki's thoughts are a rushed combination off 'mine,' 'ours', 'mine,' 'mine,' 'ours,' 'girlfriend,' 'girlfriend,' girlfriend!'
"we'll be what ever you want us to be honey." denki tells you, he wants you to be his girlfriend so bad! both his and hanta's girlfriend! he wants to be your boyfriend! but whatever you want or need from him he'll be there.
"i- i don't want to decide that." you don't want to say it.
"well what do you want us to be?" hanta leans back and lies on his side, facing you both, his head propped up by his arm.
"i- i don't want to decide that." you don't want to say that.
"i don't think you're being one hundred percent truthful but okay i'll tell you and that might help you decide. i don't mind what we are," hanta tells you and denki glares hard at him but he takes no notice. "i've never felt this way before." denki's glare softens, only by a bit. "i want us to keep doing what we've always been doing. for the past year. all three of us. i want to fuck you against my desk and kiss you in the morning when you bring me coffee. i want to do things with you and go out to restaurants. i don't want anyone else and i don't want you having anyone else that isn't us. i want us to be committed to each other."
for someone who said that they don't mind what you are, it sounded an awful lot like a relationship. saying he's never felt like this... he wants to be committed...
"i-i don-"
denki interrupts you, he doesn't want you to say you don't want to decide or even worse something about how you don't want that or don't believe them. "i want you! us together i mean! us three! boyfriend and girlfriend!" you part your lips in shock at his words, "it should be us three. this... this isn't a new feeling to me, i thought i was in l-" he trails off and starts again, "earphone jack and me were good friends when we were in school. my feelings for her were romantic but with you it's like those feelings are amplified by a thousand... i want to be your boyfriend! ... hanta... i want us not to pretend that what happened after the war didn't really happen."
you have no idea what he's talking about.
"denki!" hanta's voice is low, like a growl, it's almost scary, you've never heard him sound like that before.
"i'm serious hanta, i don't want to pretend that those times didn't happen. they meant so much to me. they still mean so much to me."
everything is silent. you always thought the expression 'you could hear a pin drop' was fake and just to describe a situation, it could never happen, but at this moment you're proven wrong.
a pregnant silence. until hanta speaks up. "there's no reason to be bringing it up. we were both lonely and needed comfort, that's all."
"i know that's not how you feel..." you hear hanta grit his teeth as denki talks. "it should be all three of us. i'm not saying i love you sero but i'm tired of pretending that there's no tension there. i'm not even saying i feel even a tiny fraction of what i feel towards our pretty secretary and trust me i love sharing and i still want to do that but i don't want to shy away from doing some stuff with you, sometimes i want you to tell me what to do too and sometimes i want to taste your cum when i'm going down on-"
"that's enough denki!" hanta cuts him off. hanta takes a deep breath, "i've never been in any situation like this. i've never cared about anyone like this before you came into our life babe," his eyes flick towards you to make eye contact, before looking back at denki, "denki i don't bring it up because i don't know what to say. you're my best friend! we're on the same page about everything else i just- ugh. i like the idea of calling you my girlfriend puppy... but only if that's okay with you. i never have before but with you i want to... denki it's obviously going to be us three! that's just obvious! if you wanted me to just take more charge around your actions then you should of just told me. if you wanted me to drag your head down and not let you take time to breathe as you're licking up my cum from her cunt then you should of just told me. "
this whole time you've been staying silent, not even wanting to move. you had no idea anything like that happened with the two of them and you didn't want to interrupt a moment between the two.
"it's obvious?" denki questions.
"it's one of the most obvious things said all night." hanta reiterates.
you decide to speak up, thinking that the two of them have said what they needed to say and listening in really helped you put everything together in your head and help with your confidence about how you feel for them and how they feel for you. "i want to be your girlfriend. i want both of you to be my boyfriend. it's not up to me what relationship you have with each other but i'll support whatever you decide it is."
denki lets go of your hands and wraps his arms around your waist squeezing and kisses all over your face, hanta grins at the sight and moves to leave the room, coming back with drinks and snacks and the laptop before denki has finished with his onslaught of kisses.
you watch cartoons and lay on hanta's chest, holding denki's hand. it's getting late into the night, "i think i'm gonna buy a big tv." denki announces and hanta chuckles.
you're half asleep when you mumble out your own words, ones that you never actually told them earlier, "i love you guys."
denki is bright red and hanta's cheeks are pink. "d-did i hear that right hanta?"
"yeah." hanta pulls you tighter to his chest.
"it's nearly been a year since we met her... i think she changed us... for the better." every other night was with a different girl, not caring about emotional connections. hanta makes a noise of agreement, "i love her too. i know you do as well." hanta shuffles around a bit, ignoring the end of that previous sentence. "i know you won't tell her for awhile and i think that's okay." denki moves even closer to you. "it's okay if nothing does happen with us sero, it's okay if nothing changes but i don't want to hide something from her. she deserved to know about our past."
"yeah, i understand that." hanta fiddles around with the lamp of the bedside table and turns it off. they're still able to make out each other's silhouettes in the dark. "i don't know if we'll ever be more than we are now. it might just be exactly the same but now we get to call her our girlfriend but i still really like that, us two can keep sharing her and making her be happy, making her cum."
"i want us to love her more than anyone ever has before. i don't want her to doubt our love. i want us to keep her safe from everyone and for her to stay with us forever."
hanta grins, "jesus denki, it sounds like you want to kidnap her where we're the only ones that can see her."
there's silence and hanta can see the soft rise and fall of denki's chest breathing. he assumes he's gone to sleep.
bathroom floor ── .✦ bakugou x reader [2.3k words]
summary ─ reader struggles with a purging disorder—katsuki slowly puts the pieces together
cw ─ eating disorders, purging, body dysmorphia
ten minutes left.
the countdown was getting eerily close to an end you couldn't bear to face without doing something about it. an empty plate sat before you, dirtied utensils settled across its stained, white glass. small crumbs and licks of sauce still remained—not much else outside of that.
nine.
how’d you let it get this out of control again? surely you should've had more self-control—more self-respect—after all the starving you'd put yourself through earlier that week. the food churned awfully in your stomach, a cruel reminder of your failure. you felt disgusting. dirty. sick.
eight.
katsuki sat across from you, his plate empty and his attention swallowed by the glow of his phone screen. the rest of the world may as well not have existed. he likely wouldn’t notice your departure in this state, or at least wouldn’t care. it was routine at this point, an endless loop ingrained so deep in your brain you couldn’t hope to dream of something different.
seven.
shit—you were running out of time. better leave now than regret it later.
you slowly lifted yourself from the chair, wooden legs scraping across the tile beneath. standing slowly minimized the risk of fainting and drawing attention to yourself—or worse, missing the thirty-minute deadline. katsuki glanced up from his phone, expression unchanging. you smiled softly. don’t show your discomfort on your face, fake a smile, ease any doubts. “i’m gonna head to the bathroom real quick, kats—dinner was great.”
six.
he grunted in approval, nodding just slightly before going back to his phone. releasing your tight grip on the back of your chair, you stumbled off to the stairs without another word. using the upstairs bathroom lessened the chances that katsuki’d hear and start asking questions you couldn’t answer without outing yourself completely. it was best he didn’t know. you’d always been good with keeping secrets anyways.
five.
the ascent up your squeaky stairs was much harder than it should have been. your legs felt weak and wobbled with nearly every step. but to you, it only meant progress—proof that all your hard work was finally amounting to something tangible and real. the railings made it much easier, that way you could hold onto something for stability. again, toppling over on the stairs doesn’t do any good outside of drawing unwarranted attention.
four.
finally, you arrived in the bathroom, immediately reaching to turn on the sink. you glanced down to check the time: 7:35 pm illuminated the blackened watch screen like an angel answering your prayers. just in time.
you dropped to the cold tile beside the toilet, knees settling beneath you in their usual position. luckily, you'd thought to tie your hair up before dinner this time instead of wasting precious seconds doing it afterward. you draped one arm over the ceramic, the other holding your upper body steady with your elbow.
three.
carefully, you took two fingers and snaked them down your throat. you used to have a reaction; now it’d become more of a learned ritual. there wasn’t anything wrong with what you were doing anyway. it was no different from someone starting a diet or adding extra workouts to their routine. who cared about the method if the numbers went down either way? maybe most would judge you if they ever found out. they'd treat you like some poor stray that needed reassurance and coddling, telling you to "just find a healthier way."
two.
but they sure don’t judge its results. ever since you'd started, the compliments had come more often than they ever had before. more praise. maybe an older woman would give you a look of disgust every now and then as you passed her on the street, but what did her opinion matter? jealousy is a disease.
one.
you snapped your hand out from your throat one final time when you were sure it had all been thoroughly purged. you glanced down at your fingers through tears. they were coated in wet, sticky saliva from base to your fingernail. your hands were shaking quite noticeably as well. an overwhelming sense of accomplishment washed over you.
you wiped your face with the back of your hand and forced yourself upright. the room swayed just slightly. nothing new.
across from where you stood hung a mirror. the figure looking back at you was unfamiliar, hollowed out and worn thin. dark circles etched beneath its eyes. shoulders bowed beneath an invisible weight far too heavy to carry.
though none of that truly mattered to you in this moment. there was still one thing left to check.
peeking from beneath your bathroom counter sat a scale. you pulled it out without a second thought, shaking off your hoodie and sweatpants before stepping on. you couldn’t risk any extra weight being added. the number flickered across a small, rectangular screen just above where you stood. for a second, your breath caught.
two pounds. you were two pounds lighter than yesterdays weigh in. a shaky laugh escaped your throat before you could stop it. see? it was working. it had to be. otherwise, what was all this for?
next week you’ll aim for ten.
you washed your hands, splashed cold water over your face, and practised a smile in the mirror until it looked convincing enough. then you headed back downstairs.
katsuki was comfortably sprawled across your small sofa, remote in hand as he sifted through the endless movie options, one arm slung over the armrest. he glanced up as the floor squeaked under your weight. you smiled. he stared for a moment too long. something dangerous flit across his eyes—something too close to concern.
“...what?” you asked lightly, shifting your weight.
“you look like shit.”
your smile didnt falter. not even once. “gee, thanks babe.” you forced a small giggle.
“‘m being serious.”
"i'm alive, aren’t i? clearly it's not that bad.”
his gaze lingered for another moment before he clicked his tongue and shifted over slightly. “c’mere.” you blinked. “watch a movie with me.” it sounded more like an order than a question but you complied anyways.
settling against his broad frame, you finally felt like you were able to relax, if just in the slightest. then an arm slid around your waist, fingers curved around your hipbone. the tiny movement that once might’ve offered you comfort, familiarity, lately had become something entirely different. suddenly you couldn’t focus on anything but your skin. your hips. your stomach.
was he disgusted in your body all the same? could he feel your every flaw beneath his hand? did he wish you looked different? did he notice how much space you took up? were your hips too wide—waist too fatty?
the thoughts came fast and relentless. you stayed perfectly still. didn’t say a word. suffered quietly beside him while the movie played in the background.
—
months passed whether you wanted them to or not. nothing in your behaviour changed. if anything, it’d gotten significantly worse. summer became fall. fall faded to winter; winter was always worse—you were cold enough as is. but at least now you could hide your withering frame beneath oversized clothes and fluffy silhouettes.
you found yourself exhausted constantly. head pounding with the slightest excursions. body aching no matter how much rest you indulged in. simple tasks felt far heavier than they should have. it wasn’t enjoyable, but every time you even considered stopping, the fear came rushing back. so you kept going and going. until your life revolved around numbers, around control. around chasing something that never seemed close enough.
katsuki did not stay oblivious. it was obvious how he eyed you down during meals, how he tracked your expression for any sign of discomfort. he noticed the way your hoodies hung looser than before and the constant dark circles under your eyes. he noticed the way you seemed to sway sometimes when you stood too quickly.
he tried to bring it up a few times, to no avail. you were persistent in your disguise, unwilling to let go of habits better left to rot.
one night before bed, you noticed him staring a second too long, eyes lingering on your small frame and wobbly movements. “y/n.” he spoke quietly, tone rough and laced with an unusual disquiet. you turned to face him. “talk to me.”
you huffed out a small laugh, averting your gaze instantly. “what do you mean?”
“you know what i mean.” he insisted.
“kats, i don't know what you're talking about.”
“don't bullshit me y/n, you look dead on your fucking feet.” you paused, breath catching. you knew this had to be coming soon—just chose to ignore the possibility. slowly, you faced him again, wearing that same old practised smile, the one that held through even the hardest of nights.
“i'm fine, baby, promise. just been a little…tired. recently.”
he didn't continue to argue with you about it. didn't try to force some half-assed confession out of you when you clearly had enough on your mind. but his expression held a melancholic tinge that told you he didn't believe it. he continued to stare on days where you seemed particularly exhausted. no more questions, not outloud at least. like he was silently piecing the puzzle together in his mind.
—
months passed; dinner again. it was a random tuesday, nothing remarkable about it in hindsight. you shoved the first bite past your lips and chewed thoroughly, beginning the countdown. it was just routine, normalcy. nothing special. nothing different.
though halfway through helping katsuki clean up the dishes, panic suddenly shot through your chest. your stomach dropped. the countdown. the clock. you glanced down at your watch: 8:43 pm. fifty minutes had passed. your blood ran cold. how could you have forgotten? you mumbled some excuse to katsuki and rushed upstairs without even waiting for his response.
your heart hammered through your chest the entire way there. too late, too late, too late. the thought repeated endlessly.
you dropped to the bathroom floor, knees thudding harshly against the cold tile. you tried to calm down, to fix it and make everything okay again. truly, you did. you shoved your fingers as far down your throat as they could go, coating them in spit. nothing came up. again and again and again you tried. minutes dragged by. nothing.
your initial panic turned quickly to desperation. desperation to frustration, frustration to tears. before you knew it you were sobbing. helplessly curled over the toilet as you shook so hard it hurt to breathe. “please,” you whispered hoarsely.
you weren't even sure who you were talking to anymore. your reflection stared back at you from the mirror across the room—pathetic and disgusting. a fucking failure.
the bathroom door creaked open. you didn’t hear it at first, didnt even notice until a familiar voice suddenly broke through the noise in your head. “...what the fuck?” everything stopped. your heart nearly stopped with it.
you turned, and there he was, standing frozen in the doorway, staring. for one horrible second, neither of you moved. katsuki's face had gone completely pale—confusion, horror, and realization all hitting him at once. he crossed the room fast. "shit—"
you immediately broke. "i'm sorry—" the words came out strangled. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry—"
"hey—"
"i'm sorry—"
he grabbed your shoulders gently and pulled you away from the toilet. "fuck—" your entire body shook as tears poured faster than you could stop them. they burned hot against your skin, catching in your lashes and dripping down your chin. every breath came out broken, hitching painfully in your chest.
"i didn't mean—"
"hey." his voice cracked. actually cracked. which somehow that made everything worse. katsuki never sounded like that—never sounded scared. "shit, baby—"
you buried your face into his shoulder immediately. the apologies wouldn't stop coming. every breath felt like another one, every sob another confession spilling out before you could swallow it back down. his shirt was soaked within seconds, damp beneath your cheek as you clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you upright.
"no, don't apologize." his arms wrapped around you, tight, protective, desperate. "don't fuckin' apologize."
"i'm sorry—"
"stop." his voice wobbled. "please stop apologizin'." you felt him press his cheek against the top of your head, felt his chest rising unevenly beneath yours. his heartbeat was racing. you could feel it through the fabric of his shirt, pounding just as hard as your own.
"i got you." another sob tore through you. "i got you, okay?" he sounded scared—terrified, actually. that realization hurt almost as much as being caught, because suddenly, this wasn't just yours anymore. the secret you'd spent months burying, hiding behind excuses and fake smiles and locked bathroom doors, was suddenly sitting between the two of you in plain sight.
after a moment, he slowly sat back against the bathroom wall and pulled you with him, settling you into his lap and holding you there. one arm wrapped around your waist while the other rubbed slow circles between your shoulder blades, steady and repetitive, like he was trying to soothe something much bigger than either of you knew how to handle.
you cried until your throat hurt, and he stayed through every ugly sob, every apology, every trembling breath. he didn't let go once. didn't pull away when your tears soaked through his shirt or when your hands clenched desperately in the fabric at his sides.
"i'm not goin' anywhere." his voice was quiet now, rough with exhaustion. "you hear me?" you couldn't answer, only nod. his grip tightened just slightly. "we're gonna figure this out." another shaky breath. "together."
for the first time in months, the weight on your chest felt a little less crushing. not gone or fixed, but lighter. and as katsuki held you against him on the cold bathroom floor, it was enough.
The rest of the week played on loop. A tension lingered in the air you cannot seem to ignore no matter how hard you try. Katsuki, on the other hand, is not addressing anything when it comes to your lack of sexual affairs. Your attempts to get closer were denied as always. Not necessarily because Katsuki didn’t want them. No, if anything, he craved it. Just like you. Katsuki is just good at hiding his selfish desires. Especially since the whole shower incident.
Why can’t your lips seem to connect? They felt like constant magnets, inching closer and closer yet as they brushed one another, Katsuki pulled away. Every single time. What is worse is the moment keeps playing on loop. You have another shot every time he removes your collar to shower, his hungry eyes scanning your exposed body as he loosens the shock device. The lust and desire that filled you both — as much as you hate to admit it — with watching ticking second all for Katsuki to discard the moment. You are always left alone while Katsuki mentally panics inside your shared room, but for those moments, Katsuki is vulnerable. He isn’t angry or annoyed. He is seeing you.
Why do you long for his calloused touch while he is away? Is that where your hatred is deep rooted? You are supposed to hate him for the terrible things he has done yet you find yourself willingly running to his beckon call. You do not have much of an option, but nothing can silence the skip of your heart when he speaks your name. The way you smile as he acknowledges your presence.
Damn, you really are broken.
Katsuki is gone to work once again. You find yourself alone, frustrated and filled with non-amusement. “He is always away,” you grumble aloud in the vacant house. “Leaving me all alone with nothing to do.”
Katsuki will argue you have plenty to do. In fact, you had that argument a couple nights ago.
“Katsuki?” You began as you dabbed your face with a napkin. You just finished eating delicious Oyakodon that Katsuki made. He always makes extraordinary cuisine.
Katsuki raised an eyebrow, swallowing his food as he gazed at you. You usually don’t speak at supper since Katsuki just tells you ‘shut up and finish your food.’
“Can I have a cellphone? Or a Nintendo switch?” You asked, tugging at the hem of your t-shirt. Katsuki chuckled in his typical condescending way.
“Why the hell do you want a cellphone?” Katsuki rhetorically asked, placing a piece of Oyakodon in his salivating mouth, chewing the food and swallowing. He directs one of the chopsticks in your direction, “you have plenty of entertainment here.”
“But I’m bored. I’ve watched all the shows you have approved of multiple times.” You protested, crossing your arms and huffing. This boldness comes every once in a blue moon and it loves to test Katsuki on the worst of occasions.
“Lose the ‘tude; Y/N. This isn’t going to help you get a phone or that switch shit.”
“You weren’t going to give it to me anyways.” You grumble, rolling your eyes. A hard slap across your face brought you back down to size. Your chin is now in Katsuki’s tight grip as you start to whimper. He loves the view.
“I said lose the fucking ‘tude, brat. Do you think this moping shit is going to get your spoiled ass those things?” Katsuki interrogated. You shake your head no. He continues his lecture. “I should fucking punish you for asking me such stupid questions and being an ungrateful bitch, but I’m being fuckin’ nice. Don’t push your God damn luck.” Katsuki spats, his grip getting tighter with each word produced. His eyes send venom into your irises.
“I-I’m sorry, K-Katsuki.” You cry, used to saying this phrase everyday.
“Better be. Don’t test me for the rest of the damn night.”
You did not ask for those items again. Your cheek still stinged two days later as you sat on the couch. His handprint left a mark that would not go away it felt. Even when Katsuki isn’t intentionally being rough, he still is. Tonight, you decided to try again.
You both are laying in bed, cuddling. The sound of Katsuki’s natural gruff heartbeat began to soothe itself as he slowly slipped into slumber. You decided to ask the question you have been wanting to know for awhile.
“Can I go back to school?” You mumbled, almost begging that Katsuki did not hear you, but his piercing rubies peeled open to glare down at you.
“What did I say about asking me stupid fucking questions? No, you can’t go back to school.” Katsuki huffed, an annoyed scowl smeared on his beautiful features.
“But I’m bor—“
“Let me guess, you’re fucking bored, right?” Katsuki scornfully chuckled, rubbing his temples as he cut you off. His patience and trust has been more thin than normal since the press conference. You are not aware since Katsuki does not let you view news outlets nor does he discuss his emotions.
“I-I have a p-promising f-future, y’know?” You began, snuggling your face into his bulk chest as tears spilled. “I-I want to h-help change t-the world.”
Katsuki is doing his best to control his anger. His heavy heart picks up rhythm against your eardrum. Your body wants to panic. He wants to hit you, badly, until you are black and blue for even considering leaving him. You looked so beautiful that way. Seeing you so broken physically and emotionally for him is a gorgeous sight. Lucky for you, he is too tired and he will not get to enjoy his sick desires this way. Does not mean you are safe from verbal abuse, though.
“The world doesn’t need you, Y/N.” Katsuki stated, feeling your warm rivers on his bare skin. Your heart broke at the sound of his harsh words. “The world needs heroes like me. Quirkless wannabes — like you — are nothing but a nuisance in our damn way.”
The little girl in you sobbed hysterically, but the emotions would not reciprocate on the outside. You begin to shake as Katsuki softly pats your head. Those dreams of changing the world have been shattered for a long period of time now yet Katsuki’s words stung more than expected.
You gaze up at him with glossy eyes. If your vision was not blurred, you could have sworn you witnessed a satisfied smirk on his soft lips.
“D-Do y-you really mean that?” You dared question, your voice fragile and small.
“I do.” Katsuki shrugged, feeling giddy as he watched more tears fall. All because of him.
The sobs are more than just faded dreams. No, they are much more. Those promises you made to yourself dissolved into thin air. “I am going to escape Katsuki,” you told yourself everyday in the mirror while he worked, but each time, your breath hitched. The hatred you wanted so bad to hold for him slowly became empty words. You don’t know who you are anymore. You do not even have control of your own thoughts.
You are his.
“There, there.” Katsuki comforted as you snuggled into his chest, begging for some sort of relief from this anguish. The warmth of his body brought upon temporary peace like a baby needing to be swaddled. “You’re nothing in your old life. That’s why I have to keep you safe.” Katsuki explained, nonchalantly.
“Am I somebody to you?” You finally choked out once Katsuki’s heart rate went back to normal.
Katsuki didn’t know how to answer this question. Obviously, he is putting his whole pro-hero career on the line for you, he shelters you from this cruel world, and when you fall asleep on his chest every night, he grumbles an ‘I love you’ or two that you will never hear while conscious. He can’t say it. He doesn’t know how.
“Just go to sleep, dumbass.”
Doing as you are directed, you cradle yourself into Katsuki’s rough yet tender touch. You are so small, so shattered, and aching to get even more near Katsuki. You cannot be any closer no matter how you try. You are just grateful for his presence since you are nothing more than a bother. You are nothing and now you must prove you are somebody. This is now your mission. Forget escaping Katsuki. He is the only one to accept you and your quirkless qualities.
All Rights Reserved — I don’t give anyone permission to repost, distribute, copy or re-use my works in any way. Especially not on other websites such as Tik Tok, Ao3, Wattpad, etc.
bakugou finds a list you made before you dated him
“one. big cock and knows how to use it. two and it’s in all caps. EATER.”
you rest on your forearms on your sofa, looking across the living room to your boyfriend who has appeared from your bedroom. he’s reading a crumpled sheet of paper from god knows where with a massive grin on his face.
“did you get the fan from my room? katsuki, it’s hot!” you whine petulantly. you've got your thin shorts and bralette on, trying to fight the heatwave that has taken over your city.
the heat has beat you down, left you stranded in your living room with three ice lolly packets in your path and skin sticky. you can feel the sweat trickle down your spine, you can see it gathered on katsuki’s exposed forehead, yet he still stands there reading.
“hold on, i’m lovin’ this,” he says, gold tooth shining as his mouth stretches wider, “three. rich and generous with it. is that right? you with me for my cock and money?”
you blink at him a few times, trying not to get distracted by his shirtless bare chest or the black headband he’s got on to push his unruly blonde locks back. he’s handsome, deliciously so. still, you think back to why everything he’s saying is so familiar.
“four. handsome. deliciously so. body and face. rare,” bakugou laughs, boyish and booming, “thanks, babe.”
you feel uncomfortable, perspiration dribbling between your breasts, limbs heavy with exhaustion.
“what is that? what are you reading?”
still bakugou ignores you and continues reading from the paper, “five. successful and ambitious. six. good friend even though he pretends he’s not. protective!! seven. so gentlemanly, holding open doors, paying for dates, very clear on why he likes me.” ruby pupils flicker over to you, “that last one is bare minimum.”
then it clicks, about seven points too late. your head snaps over to him robotically, eyes about to fall out of your head. “where the hell did you find that! stop reading it! stop katsuki!”
you hop up from your seat on your sofa, speed like no other taking over you as you run across the room to grab at the paper in bakugou’s hands. his laugh only booms louder, holding the flimsy sheet in the air over your head as you jump like a child.
“seriously, don’t read anymore!” you shout, trying to hoist yourself up his larger body, using his arms and shoulder as a climbing frame.
nothing about bakugou budges, he just continues reading with the paper in the air.
“it’s getting good, baby!” he laughs, ignoring your jumps and furrowed brows, “eight. listens to me. really listens. makes me feel heard and remembers what i say.”
he looks down at you, whose fingertips are slapping the bottom of the paper. you recognise it all too clearly now. the pink ruled lines, the edges ripped out from one of your old notebooks. your handwriting. “that’s cute. i still listen to you, don’t i?”
“you’re not now! give it back!”
“i’m almost done, two more,” bakugou says, hooking his arm behind your back to keep you locked close to him. you’re both sweaty and sticky. you’ve got no choice but to listen, “nine. cooks. such a good cook! you added five exclamation marks there. ten. fulfils some of my love languages. some?”
“now stop.” you urge. he can’t turn the paper around. he can’t.
bakugou pecks your forehead, his cheeks blushed with all the compliments. he continues skimming the list, rereading it.
“so this is why you chose to date me, huh?” he looks down at you, pours his lips, “c'mon gimme a kiss.”
if you just grab it out his hands, he won’t see the other side. with pros always comes—
he stops pouting at you.
“give me the paper. i wrote this all a few years ago!”
“if these are the pros, where’s the cons? you must have done a cons list.”
you shake your head, side to side. he holds the paper away from you. the opposite side, the list of all your cons, written back at you. you loop out of his arm, trying to reach for it.
he notices you staring, eyes fixated and that’s when he flips the paper around. CONS in big red capital lettering.
“this is private! you weren’t meant to see this, you shouldn’t be snooping in my room!” you squeak but bakugou’s already half down the page, pupils running across every line like he’s in a race.
“one. WILL choose his job over me—,”
“well obviously, your job is to save the world!”
“two. odd relationship with his mother? but apparently it’s better than before.”
“it’s so much better now!”
bakugou’s eyebrows drop now, voice getting lower as he continues, “three. argumentative. argues with EVERYONE. his agency workers, the media and his friends.”
“i understand why you argue with them all now! it makes sense!”
“three. his job is terrifying.”
bakugou looks over to you, solemn narrowed eyes and you don’t have a positive word to say about that.
“it is, sometimes i don’t know if you’ll come home.”
“four. he doesn’t do much else besides work. all his friends are from work.” bakugou pinches his nose bridge, “really? you think that?”
“now i don’t! and i know they’re childhood friends and… and we do things together all the time. i know you love to read, game, you’ve got your lego. i didn’t know all of that then.”
“five. don’t know if my friends and family will understand.” bakugou steps away from you, “the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
you huff on the spot, “this was from when i met you! all they’ve seen of you is shouting and yelling on the television. they didn’t know how lovable you are. how well you treat me.”
bakugou looks at you, then back at the paper. scratches his head. “six. inexperienced with sex but it’s really cute. has never had a girlfriend?”
“but number one pro is that you know how to use it. obviously we’re experienced now, we know everything about each other,” you flick your finger between you and your boyfriend.
“and the girlfriend comment? i can’t help the fact you’re my first.”
“no, i mean yes i know that. it was just a question as to why. it doesn’t mean anything to me now.”
“but it was a factor in whether you wanted to be my girlfriend,” he states.
“well, yeah,” you drawl, “i thought maybe there was a reason as to why. that’s all.”
bakugou raises his eyebrows, looks back at the sheet, “seven. doesn’t always have time for me. travels a lot for work.”
“that hasn’t changed.” bakugou grunts. it’s something he knows you struggle with while dating him. it’s even been a conversation you’ve had a few times throughout your relationship. quality time. you want to spend more time with him but he simply can’t.
you sigh, grabbing his chin between your fingers so he looks directly at you. his eyes are half lidded, cheeks red and exhausted from the negativity and heat. “we’ve been through this. i’m still gonna stick by you, everything i love about you means more than all the things i find difficult.”
he takes your palm away from your face and squeezes it. but you can tell he’s feeling off. “the last one. eight, he’s surrounded by beautiful women all the time.”
“you’re with celebrities, pro heroes, socialites a lot,” you shrug, “that was jealousy on my part, nothing to do with you.”
“i don’t give a fuck about any of that.”
you nod sharply, “i know! i wrote this a while ago, two years even? a lot has changed.”
bakugou sighs from the pit of his stomach, then flings his head back in a huff. “fuck, baby.” he groans.
then he looks down at you, looking up at him.
“just wanna put it out there, that was private, you weren’t meant to see that, my opinions have now changed and i’m sure you had a mental pro con list for me. i just wrote mine down.”
bakugou folds the paper, “yeah, yeah, i get it. you hate my job that much, huh? it covered half of the fuckin’ cons.
“i also said i liked you were successful and ambitious.” you sit on the back of the sofa, crossing your arms.
bakugou mirrors you standing, crossing his arms too. “but nothing about my job has changed since we’ve got together.”
you groan, leaning your head on your shoulder, “katsuki, i think you’re making problems out of nothing here.”
“you made a list of the problems with datin’ me.” he frowns, holding the folded paper between two fingers.
“and a list of the reasons why i wanted to date you. obviously the good reasons won if i’m with you now.” you glare at him with a sharp tone.
he begins to pace around the room, paper still in hand. a terrible sign. you watch as sweat trickles down his skin, body flush with heat.
“but, babe. the problems you’ve had with me from before we were dating are still problems now. i still don’t have time for you, you still are terrified every time i’m minutes late from a mission, you don’t think i’d choose you over my job and you don’t think i do anything but work.”
you moan aloud, “and i still want you despite that all. i get the world needs you, heck, i need you if i come across a villain. i don’t hate you for being a hero.”
he stops behind you, on the other side of the sofa, “i don’t want you to resent me when you realise you could have been with someone who does have more time for you, isn’t obsessed with their job, can put you first and doesn’t scare you.”
you hop off the sofa. leaning your forehead on his collarbone. “katsuki. i wouldn’t be here if i didn't want to be. i love you. i choose you everyday. i don’t want to argue with you.”
bakugou doesn’t touch you. there’s a shake to his voice, “i’m sorry i’m not better. i’m gonna try to be. just wait for me, fuck, maybe when i’m slower and the younger lot take over, they’ll need me less. it’s just now—,”
“it’s okay. you have time for me right now but you wanna argue with me," you pout up at him.
“you did put that i’m argumentative,” he looks away from you as your hands link around his neck.
“look at me.”
shiny lava red pupils find you. you ground him, takes him out of the what ifs and the failures of his past and places him in the present with you.
“i have dated bakugou katsuki for two years and i love him so much. i love how kind and generous he is, always putting his loved ones first. how he dedicates his life and body to saving the world. how even if he’s tired from a long week of working, he still comes over to cook me a three course meal because he wants to see me eat his food. who was so open and willing to change for me. to change his routines and learn my body. who is argumentative because he wants to make things right. who wanted so hard for my family and friends to love him and manages to see his mother once a week just to check up on her.”
you search in both his eyes and he’s listening, he always is.
“i can write an updated list for you, if you want.”
he shakes his head, stuffs his forehead into your neck and slowly pushes you down into the sofa. you laugh, his hands plastered into your waist as his body crushes you in the plush cushions ever so slightly.
“‘m sorry. i shouldn’t have read it. even though i enjoyed the pros.” he muffles, lips tickling your skin.
you tap his shoulder. “you shouldn’t have but it’s okay. i still need you to get my fan. it’s hot.”
“promise you’ll tell me if you want somethin’ to change between us. i’m not wakin’ up one day to you leavin’ me for a reason right under my nose.” he urges and you can see him pleading. the desperation for you to agree.
“promise. now you promise me.”
“course i promise. i couldn’t even fill out ten reasons as to why i hate you.”
“i didn't say i hate you. and sure you can. you hate my cold feet. you hate how i moan about my job. you hate how i hate your job. you hate how i always want a massage. you hate how i wait until the last minute when you’re tucked up in bed for you to get me a glass of water. you hate how i’m indecisive for what i want for my birthdays and—,”
bakugou sits up, “i don't hate any of that shit. love listenin’ to you and half that shit is cute as hell.”
you pout, “you hate when i wear low cut tops out—,”
he frowns, “that’s foreplay, baby. you let me suck your tits after to make me happy. couldn’t give a shit what you wear.”
“how about how protective my friends are? and the fact i tell them everything?”
bakugou shrugs, “you deserve friends that love you that much and that you can tell everythin’.”
“i get snappy when i’m running late or too much is going on or i’m hot.”
with that bakugou gets up. your fan. though not without hovering over you to give you a peck. then another. you press your soft lips against his though you don’t open up because then you will get even hotter and snappy.
he pulls off you and rises from the sofa, “that makes sense, baby. you’re stressed and uncomfortable.”
you roll your eyes, “stop being so understanding!”
he walks towards your bedroom, but not without turning around to look at you. his fingers grip the door frame, “i love you.”
Ok, hear me out. Imagine the yandere bnha thinking that their darlings made something wrong/disobey them and when they deny it the boys get really angry and just aply a harsh punishment. So when they find out that she, in fact, didn't do anything wrong and that she wasn't lying, what would they do? I don't know if this is confusing but it's on my mind now. Could you write this for Bakugou, Izuku and Keigo pls??? ❤️
“Where’s the knife, Quirkless.” She would have flinched at the nickname if she hadn't gotten so used to it already, and though he had discarded of the title lately it still felt like a second skin to the girl.
He would be lying if he said he wasn't on edge, if he hadn't been looking for a flaw in the perfect evening. “Knife?” She turned to look at him, fiddling with the bow on her neck, the one fasting her apron.
“That was why you were so fucking persistent on helping me in the kitchen... wasn't it?” He looked hurt as he accused, voice only barely holding together, eyes a burning searing cold. “Just so you could take a fucking knife?”
She wasn't understanding anything, and he’d know that if he’d believed the crinkle of confusion between her brows.
“I thought we were making progress.” He sighed, cleary disappointed, seemingly contemplating what to do next, how he could and should deal with the situation before he lost ahold of his temper.
“As flattering as it is you thinking I’d have the nerve, skill and imagination to steal a knife from you-” She started, a halfhearted laugh breathed within her words, nearly amounting to a giggle. “I didn't take anything, you must have counted them wrong.”
“Don't fuck with me!” His attitude-twist had her jump, expression falling then rising as her eyes grew wide, lips shut, suddenly feeling frozen, as though any movement could only be answered by the great ash-blonde’s counterattack. “Just hand it over and I won't have to hurt you too bad.”
She took a step back, hands rising as an instinctive makeshift shield, or to balance herself with the rush of blood suddenly pumping in her system. “Katsuki, I’m telling the truth.” She swallowed, trying to level the growing feral energy she felt surge and ooze from the fueling fire in front of her. “I didn't take it.”
“Bullshit, there’s a knife missing and I didn't take it, no one else sure as fuck did, so that leaves you.” His eyes scrutinized, narrowing in her direction. “You and your silver tongue who somehow managed to trick me into thinking letting you anywhere near the fucking kitchen was a good idea, I should have just left you tied to the bed.” His voice dripped with venom, contained potent danger, ready to kill, ready to sink his teeth in. “Now, I’m gonna count to three, if you know what’s good for you, you’re gonna give me the fucking knife. One...”
“But, I didn't...” She tried, but he wouldn't have her excuses.
“Two...” She stood there, unsure if whether she should run, though not able to answer quick enough. “Three.”
“Katsuki, I swear I didn't take anything.” Tears slipped down her face now as she watched his muscles flex with the white-hot wrath surging through his veins. Her knees grew weak and she knew she wouldn't be able to run anywhere, nor was there any place to run to if she could.
“Fucking liar...” He turned away, heading back into the kitchen. “Tears won't save you from this one.”
She heard the crash of his hands fiddling in the cutlery drawer, thinking he might have given the superiority of his math skills a second thought, but saw him return too quickly for that to be the case, eyes too blurry to see what he was holding in his hand, yet having an educated guess what it might be.
“Since you like playing with knives so fucking much, why don't we play a game...” He yanked her wrists forward, sent her staggering into him, crushing the dainty joint in his palm, where if it wasn't for the ear-piercing wail that cut-loose into the air, they could have heard the small cracks indicating a fracture, though Bakugo didn't need to hear it where he felt it pop with satisfactory ease inside his fist, only to push her down on the stone floors, hand flattening out her arm. “Each time you refuse to tell me where you hid your idiotic little escape-plan, your senseless downright insulting form of neutralizing me...” His face a mere inch away from hers as he snarled, spit flying, knife placed at her neck. “I’m gonna carve a reminder of how fucking useless you are into your skin so you never get any of these dumb fucking ideas ever again.”
Her high-pitched screams rung like cacophony through his house, bouncing off the marble walls, filling every room with noise so deafening he was beginning to tire, head hurting at the earth-shattering wails.
“Where is it, Quirkless?” He growled for the dozenth time, knife dripping with her blood as he just finished etching the last ‘s’ into the flesh of her arm, the fully spelled cruel nickname oozing with a stark vermillion just as rich as his bloodshot eyes staring down at her.
“I- I don't know.” She sniffed, chest heaving as she laid limply, pinned beneath him, cheeks stained and streaked with tears, bloated, nose red and eyes unfocused, looking about ready to pass out. “Please...”
He huffed through his nose, twitching with unstifled rage, growing more and more frayed. “Fine, suit yourself, next will be my fucking name.” He seethed, drawing another defeated sob from out of her hiccuping ribcage. “Wonder where I should write it... the other arm, your chest, your ass?” His stained bloodied fingers grabbed her chin, tried forcing eye contact only to find blank blown pupils falling to nothing, glossed over and delirious, feverish with dew-drops prickled on her forehead and breasts. “Shit... you’re even weaker than I thought...”
He got up, left her to lay there with labored breaths, making a quick journey to find some bandages, thinking he’d be merciful enough to secure her wounds before starting a new one. Feet slapping against stone, stomping through the halls to the bathroom, pulling open the cupboards only to come to an abrupt holt.
Ice through his veins at the sight of the knife in the drawer.
The knife he’d put there to cut bandage cloths each time he would brand her with burns whence his temper got out of bounds.
“Fuck...” He breathed, eyes stinging, body so unbelievable stiff as his ears burned upon hearing the soft snivels coming from the living room.
He walked out, bandage-roll in hand, knees feeling wobbly, too weak to support his weight, and the newly settled burden on his shoulders. He rounded the corner, the bloody word carved into her once soft skin the first thing his eyes fell upon, heart clenching furiously in his chest, something clawing at his throat from the inside.
“I didn't- I- please- I didn't- I-” She simply lied there, all limp, on the cold stone tiles, blood staining her dress, apron ripped off and thrown next to her, sobbing with such little power they were reduced to mere sniffles, her weak limbs not even trying to make her stand up, too exhausted to even support her breathing as her chest rose with labor on each meager intake and seemed to crumble on every slipping exhale.
“Fuck- I know- I- I fucked up.” He kneeled down next to her, mind reeling, spinning, trying to wrap around the volume of what he’d just done, trying to find any means of salvaging what perfection they’d started the day off with when he’d made her breakfast and she’d hugged him, kissing him all softly and giggling as he lifted her up to sit on the counter. Finding there was no other option but to pick up the broken pieces scattered around him, and hope, hope with all his heart that he could fix things.
“No, please Katsuki, I didn't take anything, please-” She cried once seeing he’d come back, body trying to curl away when his hands descended to touch her, his large hands unsure of what to do, what he could, what he should, what he had to. Ashamed and guilt-stricken, rusty daggers stabbing at his insides, twisting in his gut as he picked her heavy arm up from the ground, laying it on his lap to wrap the white strip of bandage around it.
He bit his lip and tasted the metal on his tongue, tears starting to fall as he withheld screaming, his heart being ripped from his chest, quite like how he wanted to rip his hair out, pull his tongue out, claw his eyes out, tear the skin and flesh of his bones. “I’m sorry.”
TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS
He’d been going through the regular routine, coming to the bitter conclusion that not everything was up to code. Walking out into the kitchen where his darling had been standing for about an hour cooking dinner, humming a lullaby as she suspiciously went on stirring the pot without a hint of scorn or resistance.
Her compliant nature all made sense now.
“So, chicken soup?” He quipped, though she didn't pick up on the bitterness.
She just threw her head back to look at him over her shoulder, soft smile on her face. “Yeah, I know it’s your favorite!” It was so heartfelt he almost believed it.
“Clever.” Her brows furrowed upon the strange darkness in his tone, but shrugged it off, excused it on him being tired after a long day.
She poured the soup into two bowls, picked them up to set them on the table where she’d laid out a nice table-cloth and a small vase of flowers, all swift and graceful. “You say it all the time, I’d have to be deaf to miss it.” He waddled over to take his seat, eyes fixed on her and her antiques all the way, trying to spot an inch of regret in her composure, but finding she sprung around him and fiddled and fussed like the perfect housewife he’d groomed her to be, lying to his face with the bright smile on her lips. “Well, go on. It’s my first time with this recipe.”
“Special recipe, is it?” He asked, sitting down and picking up his spoon, twirling it in his hand, eyes still set on her, an eyebrow slightly cocked.
She looked to him then, head tilting to the side, growing more and more confused by his strange attitude. “No... quite simple actually.” She decided to brush it off, thinking he might perk up after he got some food. “Well?” She nodded eagerly towards his bowl.
“You first.” He smiled, though his eyes still looking strangely... dead.
“Oh, thank you.” She smiled, picking up her spoon, scooping to put in her mouth, then swallowing.
“So it’s only in my bowl then.” He sighed.
“What-”
“Im not eating this.” He dropped his spoon, letting it clatter with soft yet abrasive thumps on the clothed table.
“Did I do something wrong?” The concerned look on her face nearly had him fooled.
“Save it...” He snapped, getting up with an exasperated sigh, carding his hands through his hair as he paced. “You really thought I wouldn't notice you trying to drug me?” She had gotten up to try and comfort him, yet stopped at the accusation.
“What’re you...”
He gave a curt exhale, a rather short frenzied excuse for a laugh. “It’s a good plan, your safest bet really.” She was simply left dumbfounded as she watched him pace, his wings on edge, hunched and ruffled. “I’m too fast for you to try and run, I would sniff you out if you tried hiding, fighting me would be ridiculous... knocking me out with a few pills was the only way.” She opened her mouth to protest, but couldn't really decipher just what it was he was accusing her off. “So fucking clever, I could almost applaud the effort!” His voice boomed, loud and shrill, taking up the space of the open-spaced apartment. “Too bad you fucked up.” She was getting scared now, heart climbing up her throat as she watched him flail his arms, throwing a tantrum with how upset he was about something she didn't even know what was. “Shit... and I thought I was being crazy. You had me feeling bad for not trusting you and here you are trying to pull shit like this.”
She went against her better judgement and walked toward the bristled feral man, her hands held up to touch him even though it seemed she mind burn at contact. “What are you talking about? Keigo-”
“Shut up.” He spat, arm flying and landing a sharp smack across her face, impact and angle sending her to the floor, though not allowing her to recover as the same abusive hand came to grab a fistful of her hair, scalp screaming as he began dragging her across the floors, forcing her to crawl after him where he began stomping to some unknown place, tasting the metal of a popped lip bleeding into her mouth. “Unless you’re gonna apologize or beg, I don't want to hear it.”
“But-” She sobbed, trying weakly to pry his fist from her hair, only to feel him tightening and pulling some more, his pace making her soft knees scathe on the marble floors, burns running down her shins.
“It’s time you understood your place as my mate. Your only purpose.” He dismissed.
She’d gotten rather used to being thrown down on the bed, but not with Keigo’s fierce feathers cutting off her dress with little regard to a avoid nicking her skin, nor with his hand squeezing the life out of her, windpipe crushing beneath his brutal grip.
“This is the only thing you’re any good for, only thing you’re made for, only thing you are. Just my little breeding-bitch, nothing else.” He spat as he ripped her panties down, dug his nails into her thighs while kicking her legs apart as she heaved and spluttered for more air, coughing in a fit once he removed his hand to better spread her open, her dress in tethers around her bruised body, skin once soft now sliced in a thousand small bleeding cuts, her hand weakly coming to push at his pelvis, as she was rendered unable to speak, only hiccup and cough and cry. And Keigo didn't waste any time, spitting on his spitefully erect cock, the only moisture he’d deemed necessary as he pushed inside her dry unprepared tight entrance, feeling her tense up beneath him, felt her panicked sobbing in the way she beat at his chest as he laid down on top of her, all his weight squeezing the breath from out her lungs as he let go of spreading her thighs open in favor of catching her bothersome fists, pinning them into the bed with a crushing grip as he started rolling sharply and harshly and rapidly into her. Growls erupting from someplace deep within his throat, no shame, just white-hot blinding unforgivable rage.
He climbed off once he’d emptied himself inside her, grabbing her arms, he lifted her only to throw her limp body down on the ground. “Mutts sleep on the floor.” He spat, blood still oozing from spliced skin, open wounds around her wrists where he'd clawed, neck almost ripped open beneath the impact of his teeth marking her, throat sore from screaming, yet still continuing to haul up painful bleeding sobs.
And though he’d made it such a point that breeding was her only usage, made her say it, made her beg for it, made her thank him, he still went to find a pill, yet with the rush of what he’d just done coming to a crash he was left feeling dizzy in the spiraling downfall of his frenzy, adrenaline fizzing out and nerves starting to prickle, messaging his temples to soothe the oncoming headache, finding quite ironically he could use a pill or two to soothe his nerves, the same kind she’d tried drugging him with earlier.
She curled up on the floor, hugging her body for comfort, bruises and cuts stinging hot against the cool carpet.
He padded into the bathroom, unbothered by her cries, thinking they were justified, deserved. Hands casually reaching towards the pill-bottle in the medicine cabinet, popping the cap and throwing two circular, not oval, pills down his throat, face contorting at the foreign feel of them on his tongue, realizing, slowly and mortifyingly, that the taste was sweet instead of bitter, as they were supposed to be.
Grabbing the bottle and turning it in his hand to read the label, eyes scanning and widening, blinking once, blinking twice, whispering a small breathless. “No...”
He ran back into the bedroom, cursing all the way, cursing himself all the way.
He’d mislabeled the bottles. One bottle containing what pills he’d used to take to calm himself during his ruts before finding a better outlet in his darling, the other bottle full of OxyContin. The rut-pills naturally having way less pills inside, which was why he counted that at least fifteen pills where missing this morning.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck...” He cursed, had no mind for anything else as he rounded the corner and stood in the threshold, scared to enter, scared to breathe as he listened to his darling pained whimpers and shattered breaths. His darling still lying exactly where he’d left her, limp where were it not for the wrecked way her ribcage would rise and fall, he’d think she was dead.
Instinctively he sent his feathers out to help her up quicker than his legs could carry him over, though she recoiled at the fluttering of them, whimpering as she backed herself up into the corner of the room, sitting with her knees tucked tightly to her chest, her arms swung around them to shield herself, head hung as she winced and chocked on her cries.
It felt like dying, the a jagged rock lodged in his chest, it felt like death, like sickness, spreading throughout him, cold and vicious, with no mercy as he began crying too.
“M’ sorry, I’m s- so sorry, sorry, I’m sorry, ple- please-” He begged, but her huddled frame was shaking in terrorized shock as she began rocking back and forth, toes curling into the carpeted floors. “Please- please, Angel.” He reached out a second time, this time not letting her flinching stop him, taking her hands in his, both equally shaking. He knelt, head hung and bowing to rest against her feet. “Forgive me...” He started kissing, first the top of her foot, then her calf, hand held loosely inside his, lips mushed to kiss the top, then her knee, pulling her into his lap, hugging her close, cradling her head to his neck, other hand splayed on her back, arm securing her tightly against his chest. “I’m sorry...”
MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU
Izuku came home earlier than usual, though instead of being suspicious, she felt overjoyed, welcoming him home by the door, helping him tread his jacket off his broad shoulders, hanging it up for him on the hanger to be placed inside the closet neatly, standing up on her tippy-toes as he leant down to plant a juicy kiss to his cheek, all just in the order he’d taught her. Perfection. Getting ready to ask him how his day was, before he beat her to the punch.
“Sweetie?” He asked, slight lilt in his tone.
She just smiled in return. “Yes, Daddy?” Feet placed beside each other and standing straight and perfect like a little doll.
“What did you do today?” It’s quite normal for Izuku to ask, liking to watch his little girl bounce with passion, all shy and giddy and awkward as she drones on about the lack of substance in her day with that unrestrained childlike candidness he’s forged her into.
“Uhm...” She blinked, face in wonderment. “Well... I woke up, had a bath, dressed up.... ooh, made the bed, then I played in the garden for a bit, or... for a very long while actually, I picked some flowers and made a flower-crown, and had another bath because of all the mud-”
“Come here, Bunny.” He cut off her rambling, despite it being cute, curling his finger at her to come over as he sat down on the couch. He patted the couch-cushion beside him, not his lap, which could only mean he wanted one thing. She did what she knew from experience he wanted, propping her knees up to kneel beside him. “Lie down, you know what to do.” Ass arched up over his lap, short frilly skirt hiking up her thighs, revealing her pretty cotton panties, with her face mushed in the other couch-cushion on the opposite side of him. “You want to try that again?” He stroked the ample skin of her butt, cupping one cheek in his palm and messaging calloused fingers over the soft skin, fingering the hem and snapping it back to smack her skin lightly.
“Try what again, Daddy?” She asked, unquestioning of his request, folding her feet while having them raised in the air, pearl-white socks pulled neatly over her knees beginning to roll into the crease of her bent legs.
“What did you do today?” He stroked down the back of her bare thigh, other hand leveling on the small of her back, fingering a lock of hair that laid splayed there.
“But I just told you-” Her voice still sweet and childish and girly, just the way he liked, bordering on whiny as she tipped her head back to give him a perplexed look.
“Hmm, give me your hands.” She folded her arms behind her back, let him grab ahold of both her wrists in one of his massive palms, strong finger curling around them, as he continued stroking the goose-bumped flesh of her behind with the other, lifting her skirt higher, now laying it to rest in the slope of her back, leaving her pink cotton panties on full display, hugging her round bum, all exposed atop his lap. “Tell me again. One more time for me, Bunny.”
“I don't understand, Daddy?” She asked, feeling her breasts begin to ache with how they were squished against the cushions of the sofa, the underwire to her bra cutting into her flesh in the forced position.
“No? You don't understand?” Deku patronized. “Maybe this will help.” His hand left the soft skin it hand been fondling, his other hand tightening around her wrists, bracing for the recoil that was sure to rush through her whence his raised hand struck down with force upon the unsuspecting plush flesh.
She wailed, arms trying to pull free at once, just like he had anticipated. Her booty wiggling to shake the pain away, feet thumping down into the cushions.
“Why do you think Daddy’s punishing you?” He asked calmly, hand stroking the abused flesh of her bottom as she sniffled into the plush surface her head was resting on, thighs shivering.
“I- I don't kno- know.” She hiccuped, sobs ricochetting through her chest as her one ass-cheek stung with blood like fire.
“No? You don't know?” His hand lifted, coming down hard once again. “How about now?” Voice calm, iced and leveled, strict but soft.
“No, please-” She begged through her sobbing fit, hands uselessly struggling behind her back, cramping in his unmovable death-grip.
“Does Bunny want another slap?” He asked, condescension drowning his tone, dripping like venom as he once again messaged the welted flesh of her ass.
“No-” Her voice was mumbled and slurred through tears, wet like a moan, yet hurt like a bawling toddler who scraped their knees on the pavement.
“No? But you seem to like it so much.” He pulled at the bruised flesh, pinching it between his fingers, making her arch to try and reel away from his touch, a whimpering whine leaving her.
“I didn't do anything, Daddy please!” Squealing like a little piglet, as he worked the ample fat of her butt in his hand, kneading it like one would do dough.
“Think again, I’m sure it’s simply slipping your dumb little brain.” He mocked, eyes keen and lightning-like as they look down at her face mushed against the couch, her lips blubbering like a fish, nose red and runny with the tears coating her cheeks, drool dribbling down her chin from the heavy wrecking sobs.
“No daddy, I-” Another branding landing of his large hand against her unprotected abused and bruised skin.
“Bad bunny, you mustn't tell lies.” He chastised, letting go of her wrists in favor of entangling the brutish hand in her hair, holding her skull in his palm as he dragged her up, other clawed knuckled paw manhandling her into kneeling over his lap, her trembling little body doing nothing but abide by his direction, sniveling and sniffling, hiccuping on beaten shuddering breaths as she blinked to make the brimming tears fall out of her sore eyes, lids puffy and eyelashes glossed, looking so adorably vulnerable when wincing at his fingers digging into the delicate softness of her hips, keeping her seated, ass blossoming with lilac and maroon. “My little pet tried to escape today, didn't she?” His eyes were set and stone-cold as he narrowed them slightly at her, left eye mildly twitching every second or so.
Her hands held onto his arms, more to balance herself as she cried than for his sake. “What... no-” She mumbled out between sniffs and bleating, eyes too dewy to focus, mind too clogged to be thinking of much more than her aching flesh.
“No?” His voice mimicked her frail timber. “Then how come I know you tried opening the door to the mudroom at exactly 2.37 in the afternoon today?” He quirked a brow, nostrils flaring at the building potent brew of rage within him. “Care to explain what you where thinking?”
Chest heaving sporadically, still with her sobs she tried formulating what muddled answer she could. “I- the rain-”
“The rain!” He stated, voice sharp and booming, not buying whatever sorry excuse she was trying to sell him. “Gotta do better than that, Bunny.” He almost felt offended with how little she’d prepared for this, he would have thought she’d come up with something better than the weather.
She sniffled. “I- I didn't want to ruin my shoes in the mu- mud, and my boots are in the mudroom, bu- but the d-door was locked, so I went barefoot instead, I’m so- sorry-” She managed to blubber out, breaths hitching, toppling her words, voice cracked and uneven in her rambling.
“Boots? Barefoo-” He asked, but answered his own question by backtracking to what she’d said about spending the day in the garden. “You weren't trying to leave?” He stated, again more like the answer to his own question.
She whimpered like a pup, small pained cries. “Leave? Why... why would I leave?”
He stared at her for a moment, features soon drawing back, a shrouded mind clearing, biting his tongue. “No reason...” He answered her bleary confused features, hands softening in their grip on her hips, nails dislodging from digging into her skin. “Don't walk barefooted when you’re outside, I don't want you to get sick.” He saved himself, casting the events and the punishment onto the measly crime.
“I won't ever do it again, I promise!” She shook her head, arms swung around his shoulders, pushing her head into the nook of his neck for comfort, basking in the familiar scent of cologne, rubbing her teary face off on the color to his shirt, kissing his throat, laying its worship, body pressed flush against his, hips shimming to better slot herself down on his lap.
Her actions were well received, a little too well with how rigid and uptight and exhausted he was in the wake of his fading anger. “Good girl.” He sighed, pleased. Large hand finding her cheek, cupping it and her chin to pull her up to face him. “It’s been a long day, give me a kiss.” She didn't hesitate, soft bloated lips pressed primly into his, welcoming how he liked to suck on her bottom lip, welcoming how his teeth liked to chew on it, knowing how to make herself useful, petite hands finding his chest, working at the perfect pace in unbuttoning his shirt, hips rocking like they’d been taught to awaken what was kept inside his pants.
idk warnings? :: implied fem reader, reader and suna r married, lowercase is normal for me
a/n>>
hey hey heyyy!!
so… i hv a little something for yall… as ya kno i love sunarin… and i also love hurt/comfort… sooo yall know what i did right!
i made a lil sunarin hurt/comfort oneshot! its my first story yall lolol
enjoy!
the silence in the apartment wasn’t the peaceful, lazy kind that suna rintarou usually thrived in. it was heavy, thick with weeks of accumulated tension and unspoken problems.
ever since his transfer to EJP Raijin, rintarou had become a ghost in his own life. though he went on dates, he was physically there, yet mentally somewhere else. the pro-league schedule was an absolute monster that swallowed him whole, but the real issue wasn’t the hours—it was the wall he built around himself to cope with the exhaustion. when he came home, he didn't bring his heart with him; he just brought a tired body that wanted to slide onto the couch, stare blankly at a phone screen, and offer monotone, one-word answers to anything you asked.
tonight though, you were done with his unbothered self.
you hadn't even approached him with anger. you had just walked into the living room, sat on the opposite end of the couch, and gently tried to ask where he had gone mentally. you told him you felt invisible. you told him that sharing a bed with him felt like sleeping next to a stranger who just happened to have the same face as your husband.
but rintarou, entirely drained from a brutal three-hour “coach-lecturing-them-for-playing-badly” session and a nagging ache in his shoulder, didn't have the emotional capacity to handle your ‘nagging’ (or so he thought). instead of listening, his defense mechanism kicked in. He weaponized his signature casual cruelty.
he didn't shout. he just let out a short, harsh, mocking laugh, eyes flashing with an indifference that cut deeper than any dagger could.
“If being married to me is such an exhausting chore,” rintarou said, his voice dropping into that terrifyingly calm, slow cadence he used when he wanted to shut a conversation down completely, “why do you even bother? nobody is forcing you to sit here and wait for me.”
the words felt like a physical slap. “rin, I am trying to save our marriage. I’m not asking for a miracle, I’m asking for literally, just you.”
“well, maybe this is all you’re getting,” he snapped, his temper flaring dangerously as he stood up, towering over you. he felt cornered, exposed, and entirely inadequate, so he did the only thing his exhausted brain could think of to end the discomfort. he grabbed his own left hand. with a sharp, aggressive jerk, he yanked the platinum wedding band right off his ring finger. “if it’s that miserable, then let’s just stop pretending.”
he hurled the ring directly at the floor.
it hit the hardwood with a sharp, echoing clink. the sound was deafening in the small room. the silver band bounced twice, spun on its edge, and rolled lazily beneath the heavy fabric of the sofa, disappearing into the dark.
the moment the ring vanished from sight, the air left the room.
rintarou stood entirely frozen. he was staring down at his left hand, his thumb unconsciously rubbing the bare, pale skin where the ring had sat every single day for the last three years. the adrenaline from the moment that had fueled his anger evaporated in an instant, leaving behind a crushing wave of painful reality. the terrifying weight of what he had just done crashed through his defensive walls.
you didn't cry. you didn't yell at him. you didn't even curse. however, the expression on your face was something far worse—pure, hollow exhaustion. you slowly stood up from the couch, turning your back to him to walk toward the hallway just to catch your breath.
to suna, that turn looked like forever. his brain completely short-circuited. the nonchalant, unbothered facade he had spent his entire life cultivating shattered into a million jagged pieces.
he finally realised, perhaps, you were done with his self-assing brain.
“wait—” his usual flat voice didn't sound like him. it was a breathless, mangled gasp.
before you could even take a second step, rintarou launched himself forward. he no longer cared about his pride; he didn't care about looking cool. he threw his long arms around your waist from behind, his chest crashing hard against your back. the momentum carried him down, his knees hitting the hardwood floor with a painful, heavy thud, but he didn't even flinch. he just dragged his weight downward, anchoring himself to you like a drowning man holding onto a lifeline.
“no, no, no, wait. please. ” he choked out. the flat, monotone voice was entirely gone, replaced by a raw, desperate cracking that made him sound small. he buried his face deeply into the fabric of your shirt, right against your lower back, his entire body trembling violently. “don’t go. please don't leave the room. don’t leave me.”
you tried to pull away slightly, suffocated by the sudden intensity of his embrace, but his grip only tightened. his fingers clawed into your clothes, squeezing so hard his knuckles turned white. he was sobbing—harsh, ragged, ugly sounds that tore from his throat.
suna “the unbothered king” rintarou, who rarely showed a sliver of emotion on the court, was breaking down into a complete, vulnerable mess on the living room floor.
“i didn't mean it, i swear to God i didn't mean it,” he wailed, his forehead pressing frantically against your spine. “i’m just tired, i’m so so stupid, and i’m sorry. please don't walk out that door. if you walk out, i won't know what to do. please. don’t do this to me.”
he was hyperventilating now, his chest heaving against your back. blindly, while keeping his left arm tightly locked around your waist, he began frantically sweeping his right hand across the floor, desperately reaching into the dark gap beneath the couch. his fingers scraped against the wood, searching, clawing, until they finally brushed against the cold metal of the ring.
he pulled it out, dust bunnies and all, and clutched it so tightly in his fist that the metal bit into his palm. He brought his hand forward, holding the ring up between your bodies, his face still buried in your back as he begged.
“i found it. look, i have it,” he sobbed, his voice completely wrecked. “put it back on me. please, baby, just take it and put it back on me. don’t leave me alone in this house. i’ll do better. i’ll talk to you, i’ll do anything. just don't go.”
hearing him entirely stripped of his armor, feeling the desperate tremor of his frame against yours, the anger in your chest began to soften into a heavy, aching pity. you slowly turned around within his embrace, slowly dropping to your knees to meet him on his level.
"shh, calm down rin. i'm still here." you cooed gently, gripping his back in a tight embrace as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, hiding his tear-streaked face from the world, holding you so tightly it almost hurt—terrified that the moment he loosened his grip, you would disappear.
Trigger Warnings: NSFW 18+ Content. Dark Content. Yandere, manipulation, withholding of affection, cursing, Stockholm syndrome, nudity, rejection, etc.
The media was left with many unanswered questions that day. Katsuki stormed off the podium and into the building with his team right behind him. He can practically hear Leiko seething with each heavy footstep she takes beside him. Her heels seemed to echo the loudest amongst the shouting.
Once Katsuki and Leiko were in the elevator alone, Leiko decided to let him have it. Well, until Katsuki decided to go first.
“I can fucking hear you grinding your teeth.” Katsuki commented, keeping his focus locked on the pure golden doors.
“What the hell was that, Katsuki?” She spat, her arms in the air. “That was not on script at all! You went out there and really showed your ass. You have done more damage than good! You have absolutely no evidence if this girl is alive or not and you went and told the press she’s dead?”
Katsuki glared at her. “We had an issue. I fixed it. The press is going to spin this anyway they want to regardless of what I say and what I don’t. If anything, you,” he pokes her collarbone with his index finger, “should be thanking me for even doing the damn thing anyways.”
“Thanking you?” Leiko scoffed. The elevator doors open and Katsuki was the first to head straight to his office. Leiko waited to finish her lecture once his office doors shut behind them. If she dared raise her voice in front of her peers, she would be fired on the spot. She has seen it happen to others more than once.
Katsuki made himself comfortable in his office chair, overlooking reports that laid neatly on his desk. Leiko strolled over to him, not pleased with his lack of interest for their conversation.
“If anything, you made it worse, Katsuki.” Leiko sighed.
“Ha, worse? The girl is a lost cause. She probably ran away to start a new life or some shit. I have more important things to do than chase after a runaway,” he finally meets her eyes, still only giving some of his attention, “furthermore, I don’t get why the media is so upset about this. People go missing all the time.”
Leiko grabbed the bridge of her nose, shaking her head.
“No. You don’t understand. She specifically asked for our help and we didn’t give it to her. This isn’t the first time this has happened. Your injury in Tokyo didn’t help either. Lives were lost that day. This is hurting your career and guess what? If your career goes down, so does everyone else. Do you ever think of anyone but your damn self?”
“Are you calling me fucking selfish?” Katsuki snapped, clicking his tongue. His ego is getting the best of him once again. “Because if you want me to be selfish, I can show your ungrateful ass selfish.”
“No, I want you to find the missing girl and save your career, Katsuki.” Leiko corrected, placing her palms on his desk, “our career.”
Katsuki analyzed her tenseness. He knew she had a point, but will he ever admit that? Of course not. He is the CEO of this company. Leiko is employed by him. She doesn’t understand the full situation and she never will. He is keeping everyone safe this way.
“You are dismissed.” Katsuki states while flicking his hand. Leiko let out a deep exhale, following the boss’ orders.
Katsuki’s eyes traveled to the monitor screen that he usually observed you on. Pulling up the security footage, he let out a satisfied sigh to see you still sitting on the couch, bored and watching television.
“Such a good little girl.” He chuckled yet his rubies turned dark at the news article that popped up on the other monitor screen.
“Pro-Hero King Explosion Murder God Dynamite has confirmed the death of missing college student, Y/N Y/L/N.”
Katsuki proceeded to read the article, not pleased with the way they portrayed him and his hero abilities. He is more angry at the mentions of your name and picture. No one should be able to see you but him. He had to look away. He is getting angrier by the second.
“I don’t give a fuck what Leiko or anyone says. I do this for you, Y/N. No one in this cruel world can have you. No one.”
Katsuki came home late that night. Not that you cared, — at least that is what you tell yourself — but you were curious of his whereabouts. It was not like him to be off of routine. Katsuki usually lets you know in advance if there is a possibility of him being home late. Maybe to keep you in line? Or for you to get back in line before he arrived home.
Thoughts from past trauma lingered. Your stomach did flips. Your hatred for Katsuki has subsided temporarily so you can put on the act accordingly. If you are ever going to break free from the metaphorical chains Katsuki keeps around you, this is what you have to do.
The door unlocking sent shivers dancing down your spine. Do you want to run and hide? Yes. How could you not? Yet, your pupils are attracted to the door. As soon as he enters the home, his eyes travel straight to you then back to elsewhere. You could feel a pinch in your heart. Why isn’t he looking at you? Does he not want to see you? You want him to look at you. God, just look at you.
Wait, Y/N. You hate him, remember? This is all an act.
Right?
Honestly, Katsuki was a bit flustered by your words from earlier. He has already released his emotions from today’s press conference on some pesky villains. Now he has to deal with the other issues at hand.
Of course, he loves you. He may be insane in more ways than one, but he does hold some self awareness. He is putting his career on the line to keep you safe yet when he finally hears the three little words he dreamed of, his mind goes blank. He does not know how to handle someone feeling this emotion towards him. He was ready to forgive you and move forward in his own way. Now, he doesn’t want to even make eye contact with you.
Katsuki jogs up the stairs, placing his work equipment in their rightful place. He undressed himself into a pair of gray sweatpants and a black v-neck t-shirt. He contemplated going back downstairs or not. He needs to make you dinner and he does want to see you. He feels like he hasn’t seen you in decades. Though, he thought about ripping you to shreds for giving him a swarm of butterflies. He swore they migrated for the winter that settled between you two, but the words. Three simple words made them come back.
Why can’t he say it back? He can repeat it over and over again when you are knocked out cold. He loved it when you are silent, unconscious to hear his dark twisted thoughts. You are not there to push him away, play with his emotions, and make him feel like shit for being attracted to you. He can be his real self around you. Not the cold hearted bastard you make him be.
Katsuki walked down the stairs and straight into the kitchen. He was a bit wired from the anxiety that settled within him as usual. He wondered why he did not hear the light taps of your feet make their way towards him. Where were the numerous questions about his day? Where was the running towards him for attention? You wanted it for days and now you don’t? Why are you rejecting him? Katsuki should show you a thing or two about what happens when he is rejected.
Sighing, Katsuki finished cooking the meal for you two to enjoy. Placing the Oyakodon in two bowls, he placed them on the kitchen table. Katsuki whistled, signaling for you to arrive at his beckon call. Just like he trained you, you obeyed and strolled over to your usual spot. Ruby eyes never left your form from the time you sat down to the time you both were done.
Isn’t this what you want, Y/N? To be seen.
No words were spoken amongst you two during supper. Katsuki’s pupils and presence did all the speaking. He studied you. Every movement spoke to him. The way your body showed tenseness under his gaze showed the progress was lost. The needy girl who finally talked after so long. You were silenced for months all thanks to Katsuki. You should hate him for it and you do.
You hate him, remember, Y/N? You are planning to escape, right?
Katsuki collected the dishes once you both finished eating. “Thank you, Katsuki.” You mumbled out, like Katsuki trained you. Katsuki did not reply as he placed the dirty bowls into the sink to soak. His gaze did not leave you once.
Katsuki drew you a hot shower. Your clothes were already discarded to the floor. Katsuki has seen you naked more times than you would like to think. This did not make you feel uncomfortable. If anything, you hope he would see you. You hope he would keep his eyes glued to every curve of your bare body.
And they did.
Katsuki had to restrain himself as he began taking off your collar. The exhale of his warm breath entered your parted in your lips. You inhaled him in. You wanted to feel his air inside your lungs. Your skin craved the contact of his. His calloused fingertips felt so rough yet so soft amongst your neck. You hated how it felt so right.
His heavy lips ghosted over yours. They stayed there for what felt like centuries. You didn’t mind, though. If they were a centimeter closer, they would connect, but like magnets that attract, they also can reject.
“Kiss me.” You lowly whisper, not daring to lean in closer without his permission.
Kiss her, Katsuki. You feel the fireworks. Do not let pride and ego stop you. You want her, she wants you. Let her have this.
To your dismay, Katsuki scoffs and pulls away. “I don’t have time for your stupid little games. Don’t take too damn long in the shower. It’s past your bedtime.”
You watched as Katsuki left you alone in the washroom. Katsuki had a lot on his mind. Why couldn’t he kiss you? He has no problem kissing women during sex or for press, but with you, he is timid. He feels like a teenager all over again. All because you said you loved him.
Katsuki contemplated punishing you, but you didn’t really do anything wrong. Punishment is supposed to correct unwanted behaviors. This was once wanted and deep down, still is, just why? Why now? You will not let him touch you. You hated him for trying. You always reject his advances so what gives? Katsuki is not one for physical contact except in the bedroom. If you have not figured this out by now, you really need to.
He wants you to hate him. It’s so much simpler to love you when you hate him. Sure, this is what Katsuki wanted all along, but this is all too much too fast. He does not feel as under pressure when you curse his existence. Loving you on his terms is so much simpler. Now that you reciprocate the emotion, he doesn’t want it.
Katsuki doesn’t know what he wants and because of this, you pay the consequences.
The warm water felt refreshing. The shower was not big, but it felt humungus without Katsuki’s presence. You hated this. You despised the love-hate relationship you developed for Katsuki. When you are alone, you can settle in the hatred you truly feel, but when he’s home, that longing comes back. That wanting of affection and love. The harsh yet love filled stares, the demands, the difference in whistles you learned over time. All so soon. Were you really that deprived of affection? Did you really become accustomed to this new lifestyle? You want to hate him. You need to so badly, but yet you are here fantasizing about his lips on yours. They were so close.
You proceed with your bathing routine before drying off and heading to the bedroom. Katsuki was already downstairs, finishing the dishes that needed to be clean. He laid out comfortable pajamas for you to dress into. Once you are dressed, you comb your hair and crawl into bed. Katsuki joined shortly after and for the first time in a week, he held you close. He may not ever say the words aloud, but this is him saying “I love you, too.”
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The first thing you felt when you drifted back to consciousness was pain—sharp and relentless, like fire licking through every nerve in your body. It weighed you down, made your limbs feel like lead, and each shallow breath brought another wave of agony. For a moment, you wondered if this was hell, and if so, it was far more mundane than you imagined.
You cracked your eyes open, vision blurring, and darted them around the room. A hospital. The faint beeping of machines echoed softly, the sterile scent of antiseptic stinging your nose. You shifted slightly, only to regret it immediately when pain jolted through you.
I’m still alive.
A bitter thought, but you barely had the strength to hold onto it before something else caught your attention—someone else.
Slumped beside your bed, head resting heavily on his crossed arms, was Lighter Lorenz. The sight startled you—messy dark green hair falling carelessly over his face, his red scarf crumpled on the floor as if he’d thrown it off without care. He was completely still, his breathing deep but strained, like he hadn’t been fully at peace even in his sleep.
The faintest of groans slipped from your throat as you tried to move again, and that was all it took.
“—Hey.”
The chair scraped loudly as Lighter jolted upright, his eyes wide, raw with disbelief as he stared at you. For a moment, he froze, like he thought you were a figment of his imagination. Then his breath hitched, and you swore you saw his whole body sag in relief.
“You’re—” He choked on his words, a shaky, disbelieving laugh escaping him. “You’re awake.”
You barely managed a sound, a quiet hum that could’ve been confirmation or just pain. Even that effort had you wincing, but it didn’t matter. Lighter had already pushed himself closer, nearly trembling as he looked at you like he couldn’t believe you were real.
“You—” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard, his hands hovering near yours as if he didn’t know whether he could touch you. “You scared the hell out of me, you know that?”
You blinked slowly, your gaze drifting toward him, and with what little strength you had, you moved your hand—barely lifting it from the bed—just enough to brush weakly against his. A feeble attempt, but you could feel his hand instantly catch yours, holding it carefully like it might shatter.
His grip trembled.
“Hey, don’t…” he whispered, his voice rough, pleading. “Don’t do that—don’t move, don’t—” His words cut off as if his throat closed around them.
You felt his hands shift, hesitating for only a second before he brought your limp fingers up, gently pressing them to his face. His skin was warm, rough with faint stubble, but you felt how his breath hitched against your palm, like the reality of your touch had broken something in him.
“You’re here,” he whispered, more to himself than you, eyes squeezing shut.
You stared weakly at him, trying to focus on his expression through the haze of exhaustion. His brows were furrowed, his mouth pulled into a tremble of a smile that couldn’t quite form, and his hands still shook as he held yours against his face. You couldn’t remember ever seeing him so undone.
His voice cracked again as he breathed out, “I thought I lost you. I thought I lost you.”
With what little strength you had, you shifted your fingers against his cheek, the movement so faint it was barely more than a twitch, but it was enough. Lighter stilled. His eyes fluttered open, and the look he gave you—relief and anguish and something deeply tender—almost made your chest ache more than the wounds.
“Don’t look so miserable,” you croaked weakly, the faintest ghost of a smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not a good look.”
Lighter let out a broken laugh, half-choked, as he shook his head and pressed your hand a little closer to his face, like he couldn’t bear to let go. “You’re….unbelievable, you know that?”
Your eyelids felt heavy again, the exhaustion pulling you back under, but before you drifted off, you gathered just enough strength to move your fingers—barely brushing against his hair. It wasn’t much, but you could feel him freeze for just a second before his head dipped, leaning into your touch like it was the only thing keeping him steady.
“…Don’t cry, Lighter,” you murmured faintly, your voice almost lost to the sound of the machines.
He said nothing, but his hand tightened around yours just slightly, steady and reassuring as your vision dimmed again. The last thing you felt before sleep claimed you was the warmth of him, anchoring you there, refusing to let you slip away again.
____
The days that followed were a blur of discomfort, frustration, and exhaustion. Recovery wasn’t the smooth, quiet process you imagined—every moment was heavy with dull aches and sharp stabs of pain that seemed determined to remind you of the fragile state you were in. The smallest movements felt monumental. Sitting up? Agony. Walking? A torment. And the worst part? You had to do it.
Lighter made sure of that.
“I’m not moving,” you grumbled, staring at the ceiling with all the stubbornness of someone who’d resigned themselves to becoming one with the hospital bed.
“You are.” Lighter’s voice was steady—calm, but firm. He stood by the side of the bed, arms crossed, his red pupils narrowing ever so slightly behind his sunglasses. “I’ve seen statues with more energy than you.”
You shot him a glare, one that would’ve been far more effective if you weren’t half-buried under blankets like a miserable, oversized cocoon. “I can’t feel my everything. Walking isn’t happening today.”
He huffed, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he shook his head. “Come on now, don’t be impossible.”
“And you’re annoying.”
“Good,” he shot back without missing a beat. “At least you’re talking. It’s an improvement over yesterday.”
He was right, and that only made you grumble more.
Before you could retreat further into your blanket fortress, you felt Lighter’s warm hand on your shoulder—gentle, but unyielding. When you looked up, his expression had softened, those green eyes of his visible over the rim of his sunglasses, their red pupils burning with something that looked far too much like care.
“Come on,” he said quietly. “One step. That’s all I’m asking for today.”
You sighed deeply, the ache in your body somehow amplifying your exhaustion. “Why do you care so much?”
The words slipped out before you could stop them, and for a moment, Lighter didn’t respond. He just looked at you—really looked at you—and there was no smirk, no teasing edge to his voice when he finally spoke.
“Because I’m not giving up on you,” he said softly, like it was the simplest thing in the world.
The weight of his words hit you harder than you wanted to admit, and it was enough to shut you up—at least for the moment. You seem to have zero resistance when it’s coming to him, and you’re not so happy about it.
With great reluctance, you let him ease the blankets off of you, though you shot him the occasional withering look as he gently slipped an arm under your back to help you sit upright.
“Careful—”
“I know,” you snapped, hating how pathetic your voice sounded. The motion sent fresh ripples of pain through you, and your face scrunched instinctively as you bit back a groan.
Lighter didn’t flinch. He didn’t complain. He just stayed beside you, his hold steady and careful. “Deep breaths. You’ve got this.”
You exhaled shakily, squeezing your eyes shut. “I hate this.”
“Good. Hate’s motivating,” he replied smoothly, earning a scowl from you.
Slowly, he shifted his grip, easing your legs over the edge of the bed. You grimaced at the movement, feeling every ounce of weight in your body as if you’d suddenly been dropped into it for the first time.
“I’m dying,” you muttered dramatically.
“You’re not dying.”
“I might as well be.”
“You’re not. I promise.” Lighter’s voice was firm, but his touch remained impossibly gentle as he helped you to your feet. The moment your weight shifted, your knees wobbled dangerously, and you swore you would’ve crumpled straight to the floor if not for the steady hands gripping your waist.
“I’ve got you,” he said softly, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him, the steadiness of his presence holding you upright when you couldn’t.
You frowned at the floor, breathing through the dull ache spreading through your limbs. “For god’s sake. I’m a disaster.”
“You’re alive,” he corrected gently. “Which means you’ve already won the hardest fight.”
You wanted to snap back, to say something sharp and sarcastic, but the words lodged in your throat as you looked up at him. He was staring at you with that same, infuriating patience—the kind that made you feel seen, whether you wanted to be or not.
“Stop looking at me like that,” you mumbled.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m someone worth saving.”
Lighter’s grip on you didn’t waver. “That’s because you are.”
You looked away, cheeks warming faintly, too tired to argue anymore. Instead, you focused on taking a single, shaky step forward, feeling like a newborn deer. It was slow and awful, and you hissed through your teeth at the pain—but you did it.
“There you go,” Lighter murmured, his voice softer now, like he was proud of you without needing to say it outright.
“Ugh, you’re annoying,” you grumbled again, your hands weakly gripping his arms for balance.
“And you’re stubborn,” he shot back easily. “But I can work with that.”
You let out a heavy sigh, too worn out to keep up the banter, but when you risked a glance at him, you saw something rare—Lighter’s smile. Not his usual teasing grin or smirk, but something softer, more genuine. It almost made the pain worth it.
Almost.
“Fine,” you muttered. “One step. But don’t expect me to run a marathon anytime soon.”
Lighter chuckled, his hands still steady on you as he helped you back to the bed. “One step at a time, sweetheart. That’s all I need from you.”
_____
“Don’t you have mission to do? The red scarf of the Sons of Calydon, abandoning his work and his boss didn’t say a thing?”
You tries to push him away with the lamest thing you could think of.
Lighter let out a quiet, amused huff at your attempt, though there was no humor in his eyes. He leaned against the edge of the bed, arms crossed, the signature red scarf draped over the chair like a constant reminder of the duty outside. But now, it can wait.
“You really think Big Daddy wouldn’t know exactly where I am?” he replied, voice low and steady, as if he were humoring you. “The old man sent me himself.”
Your frown deepened as you looked away, frustration simmering beneath the surface. “Still… you have better things to do than babysit someone who can barely walk.”
“Wrong,” he said softly, cutting through your defenses. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
You shot him a glare, but it wasn’t sharp enough to cut. It lacked the fire you’d once had. “Stop that. Stop acting like you’re—”
“Like I care?” Lighter finished for you, his red pupils flickering in the low light as he studied you. He tilted his head slightly, almost as though challenging you to fight him on it. “I thought we were done pretending.”
The words hit harder than you wanted them to. You stared down at your bandaged hands, hands that still felt too weak to do anything, and tried to swallow the lump rising in your throat.
“It’s stupid,” you muttered, quieter now. “Staying here. Taking care of me. I don’t have anything to repay you. ”
Lighter shifted, pushing himself off the edge of the bed. He crouched down beside you, close enough that you couldn’t avoid looking at him. When he spoke, his voice was softer, gentler, but the weight of it was impossible to ignore.
“Stop saying that.”
You blinked at him, surprised by the seriousness in his tone. He wasn’t teasing you now, or brushing you off like he sometimes did to lighten the mood. His gaze held yours, steady and unwavering.
“If you’re pitying me, just say-”
“You think I’m here because I feel sorry for you?” Lighter shook his head slightly, a faint, almost bitter smile tugging at his lips. “I’m here because I want to be. I’m here because you matter. Whether you like it or not.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. The sincerity in his voice left you speechless, pinned under the weight of his gaze.
After a moment, Lighter exhaled softly and sat back down in the chair beside you, resting his arms on his knees. “You can push me away all you want,” he said finally, his voice quieter now, “but I’m not leaving. So go ahead, throw the worst you’ve got at me. You won’t shake me off that easily.”
You watched him for a long moment, trying to find cracks in his resolve—something to prove he was just saying what you wanted to hear. But there was nothing. Only patience. Only Lighter, sitting there like he’d already decided he was staying, no matter how hard you tried to shove him out.
“That stubbornness of yours is going to get you into trouble,” you murmured finally, trying to sound annoyed, though it came out weaker than you wanted.
Lighter smirked faintly, leaning back in the chair with a casual shrug. “I’ve been through worse.”
You let out a slow breath, your body too tired to keep fighting him off—at least for now. As much as you hated to admit it, his presence was steady, grounding. Something about having him there—unshakable and stubborn as ever—made the exhaustion in your chest feel just a little lighter.
“Fine,” you muttered, shifting deeper into the blankets. “Stay. But don’t expect me to be nice about it.”
Lighter’s grin softened into something warmer, quieter, as he settled into his seat again. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
_____
“Eat,” Lighter said, sliding the bowl of soup onto the small tray table in front of you. His tone was firm, but the way he angled the spoon toward your hand betrayed his gentler intentions.
You scowled, glaring at the soup as though it had personally wronged you. “I’m not hungry.”
“You haven’t eaten anything all day,” he shot back, nudging the tray closer. “I don’t care if you’re hungry. Your body needs it, and you’re not skipping this.”
You crossed your arms, slumping further into the hospital bed. “I’ll eat later.”
“You said that three meals ago.” Lighter leaned against the chair beside you, his green-black hair falling across his face, though the sharpness of his red pupils still burned through. “At this rate, you’re going to waste away before I can even teach you how to walk again.”
You rolled your eyes, the ache in your body making you even more irritable than usual. “I don’t need a lecture, Lighter.”
“And I don’t need to babysit a grown adult,” he countered, though his smirk didn’t quite hide the worry etched into his features. He straightened, his red scarf shifting as he crossed his arms. “But here we are. So, what’s it going to take? You want me to spoon-feed you?”
“Try it, and I’ll throw it at you,” you snapped, shooting him a withering glare.
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “There’s the fire. Glad to know you’re not entirely gone.”
The back-and-forth continued for what felt like hours—over food, over water, over walking down the hallway. He tried everything to cajole, tease, or outright push you into doing the smallest things to take care of yourself. But you resisted at every turn, too worn out to summon the strength or will to comply.
Eventually, Lighter sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stood from the chair beside you. “Fine. Be stubborn. But I’m not giving up, so don’t think you’ve won.”
He turned his back to you, walking over to the small couch in the corner of the room and collapsing onto it with a groan. He pulled his scarf loose, tossing it onto the armrest before leaning back and resting his head against the cushion.
For the first time, you noticed how tired he looked—how the shadows under his eyes seemed deeper, the usual energy in his movements subdued. You frowned, guilt prickling at the edges of your stubbornness.
The minutes passed in silence, the faint rhythm of his breathing filling the room as he seemed to drift off. Your chest tightened as you watched him, his face soft and unguarded in the dim light.
Slowly, carefully, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed. Every movement felt like an uphill battle, but you bit back the groan of pain as you made your way toward him. You stopped just shy of the couch, your hands clutching the edge for balance as you gazed down at him.
“Idiot,” you muttered softly, though your tone lacked any real bite. “You’re working harder than I am. What are you trying to prove?”
He didn’t stir, his chest rising and falling steadily. For a moment, you hesitated, unsure if you should even be doing this. But the guilt wouldn’t let you leave it alone.
With a shaking hand, you reached out, your fingers brushing lightly against his forehead. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “For being so difficult. For… for making you worry so much.”
Your hand lingered for a moment before you leaned down, pressing a soft, hesitant kiss to his forehead. The warmth of his skin against your lips made your chest ache in a way you couldn’t quite explain.
You straightened, gripping the couch again as you prepared to shuffle back to bed. But the sound of his voice stopped you in your tracks.
“Didn’t know you had it in you,” Lighter murmured, his tone teasing despite the hoarseness of his voice.
Your eyes widened as you turned back to him, catching the faint smirk tugging at his lips. His eyes were half-open now, those green eyes glinting faintly in the low light.
“Y-You were awake?” you hissed, heat flooding your cheeks.
“Barely,” he admitted, his smirk softening into something quieter as he sat up slowly. “But I’m glad I didn’t miss that.”
You glared at him, though the embarrassment in your expression dulled its edge. “Tch. Don’t get used to it.”
“Oh, I won’t,” he said, his voice laced with warmth as he leaned back against the couch. “But it’s nice to know you care, sweetheart.”
You rolled your eyes, already shuffling back toward the bed. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re stubborn,” he shot back, his smirk growing. “Guess that makes us even.”
As much as you hated to admit it, there was something comforting about the teasing lilt in his voice—something steady, unshakable. And despite the exhaustion weighing on you, you felt the faintest spark of warmth in your chest as you settled back into bed, his words still lingering in the quiet of the room.
(So the mc was lost in the hollow and having a meltdown after her companions didn’t survive)
The ground beneath you felt cold, the cracked earth pressing into your palms as you slumped against the wall, trying to catch your breath. Your body ached all over—deep, sharp pains where the Ethereals had struck, but it was nothing compared to the heavy emptiness sitting in your chest.
Again, you’re the only one left.
You didn’t even flinch when you heard his footsteps pounding against the hollowed-out ground, his voice slicing through the ringing in your ears.
“There you are!”
Lighter’s voice was hoarse, frantic, raw in a way you hadn’t heard before. You knew he’d find you eventually. He always did. It should’ve mattered. But it didn’t. Not anymore.
You didn’t look up as he stumbled to a halt in front of you, his breath ragged, like he’d been running for days. “Hey. Hey!” He crouched down, trying to meet your eyes, but you kept staring at the ground—at the blood smearing the dirt under your fingertips.
“You’re hurt. Come on, we need to get you out of here—”
“Why am I still alive?”
Your voice broke through his words, soft but sharp enough to make him freeze. He blinked down at you, as though unsure if he’d heard you right.
“…What did you just say?”
You laughed—short, hollow, bitter. It escaped your lips like a cough, a broken thing you couldn’t quite contain. “I fought them. I fought, Lighter. But I shouldn’t have. I should’ve just let it happen. I should’ve just let them take me.”
Lighter’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he didn’t say a word. Then:
“Don’t.”
His voice was low, tight, a warning. But you ignored him.
“I mean, look at me,” you continued, a shaky, almost manic edge creeping into your voice as you gestured weakly to yourself—your torn clothes, the blood staining your skin, the bruises blooming across your arms. “I’m a mess. I can barely stand. I feel like hell, and—”
You cut yourself off with another bitter laugh, your head falling back against the wall. “At least I feel something, though. That’s gotta count for something, right? Pain’s better than nothing. It’s better than the emptiness.”
“Stop it.” Lighter’s voice cracked this time, and you finally looked up at him.
He was staring at you like he didn’t recognize you, his hands trembling at his sides. His green irises burned with something wild, desperate—something you’d never seen in him before.
“Why?” you shot back, your voice rising. “Why should I stop? Why do you care so much, Lighter? Why am I still here? What’s the point of any of this?”
“Because you’re alive!” he snapped, the words exploding from him like he couldn’t hold them back anymore.
Your chest heaved, your fingers curling into the dirt beneath you as you shook your head, a humorless smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah? And for what? I didn’t ask to be saved. I didn’t ask for this life—for this never-ending fight, for this pain that just keeps coming. I didn’t—”
“Stop!” Lighter’s voice thundered through the air, loud enough to cut you off. He grabbed your shoulders suddenly, shaking you just enough to make your head snap up. His hands were firm, his grip almost bruising, but his eyes—those red-ringed eyes—were wide, frantic, pleading.
“You think this is easy for me?” he hissed, his voice rough, unsteady. “You think I haven’t been there? You think I don’t know what it’s like to wake up and wish you hadn’t? To stare down that abyss and want to let it take you?”
You stared at him, stunned, as the cracks in his voice became impossible to ignore.
“I’ve been where you are,” he said, quieter this time. His hands loosened their grip on your shoulders, but they didn’t let go. “I’ve felt it. That weight—the one that keeps pushing you down until you can’t breathe anymore. I know. But you…” He shook his head, swallowing hard. “You don’t get to give up. Not while I’m still here.”
You let out a shaky breath, your lips trembling as you looked away. “You don’t understand—”
“I do,” Lighter cut you off, his voice breaking. He exhaled sharply, letting his hands fall away from your shoulders before running them through his disheveled black-green hair. He looked like he was falling apart right in front of you, trying to hold himself together with shaking hands and broken words.
“I do understand. But you wanna know the difference?” he asked bitterly, dropping to sit in front of you, his knees scraping against the dirt. “I kept fighting. I didn’t think I’d make it out. I didn’t even want to. But I’m still here, and you know why? Because there were people who didn’t give up on me—even when I wanted to give up on myself.”
Your chest tightened painfully, your vision blurring with tears you didn’t want to shed. “Lighter…”
“Don’t you dare tell me your life doesn’t matter,” he said fiercely, his red pupils locking onto you like they were holding you in place. “Don’t you dare. Because it matters to me. You matter to me. And if you think I’m gonna let you slip away just because you think you’re too far gone—”
He broke off, his voice trembling as he looked away, fists clenching at his sides. For a moment, he couldn’t even speak. When he finally looked back at you, his eyes were glassy behind the sunglasses , the sharp edges of his anger softened by something far more painful.
“…I can’t lose you too.”
You choked on a sob, covering your face with your hands as the tears finally spilled over. The pain, the exhaustion, the hopelessness—it all crashed over you like a wave, pulling you under.
The silence that followed your words was sharp, cutting through the air like broken glass. You let out a hollow, humorless laugh, the sound scraping against your throat as you stared at him through blurred vision.
“It’s funny,” you murmured, voice thin, trembling, “because I’m the one who’s supposed to be screaming in despair… and yet…” Your head tilted back against the wall as you looked at him, a ghost of a smile pulling at your cracked lips. “Here you are, doing it in my place.”
Lighter froze. The way you said it—so tired, so empty—made his chest ache in ways he couldn’t explain. You were mocking yourself, mocking him, and yet there was nothing playful about it.
He clenched his jaw, his breathing sharp and uneven as he stared at you. The red in his pupils flared faintly, like embers struggling to reignite. “You think this is funny?” he said, his voice low and strained, trembling with something he was barely holding back.
You shrugged weakly, the motion barely there. “It’s all kind of ridiculous, don’t you think? Me, like this. You, still trying.” You laughed again—a breathless, broken sound. “I don’t even know what you’re fighting for anymore, Lighter.”
“For you,” he snapped, his voice raw, the words tearing from him before he could stop them.
Your mocking smile faltered, your expression slipping as you stared at him. He was breathing hard, his shoulders shaking, his fists trembling at his sides.
“I’m fighting for you, damn it,” Lighter repeated, softer this time, but no less intense. He ran a hand roughly through his hair, his eyes never leaving yours. “You think I’m screaming in your place? Fine. I’ll scream. I’ll yell. I’ll fight as much as it takes, because you won’t. Because you can’t. But that’s why I’m here. That’s why I care.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. Lighter dropped to his knees in front of you again, closer this time, his face inches from yours.
“I’ll be the one to pull you back,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less desperate. “I don’t care if you mock me for it. I don’t care if you think it’s stupid or pointless. But you need to understand something—”
His hand reached out hesitantly, trembling before it brushed against your cheek, so light it was barely a touch. “You’re not alone. Not anymore. You don’t have to carry this by yourself.”
Your eyes stung, your chest tightening painfully as his words washed over you. You wanted to argue, to push him away, to tell him he didn’t understand. But the look on his face—the raw, unguarded way he looked at you—stopped you cold.
Lighter exhaled sharply, his thumb brushing against the tear that slipped down your cheek. “Let me scream in your place. Let me fight. Let me carry the weight until you can stand on your own again. Just…” His voice cracked as his hand dropped away. “Don’t you dare leave me here alone.”
You looked at him, your lips parting as if to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you let out another broken laugh, softer this time, as you wiped your eyes with a shaking hand.
“You’re so stubborn,” you muttered weakly.
Lighter huffed out a breath, his lips tugging into a faint, humorless smile. “Takes one to know one, sweetheart.”
The silence that followed was different—no longer sharp and heavy, but fragile, like glass balanced on the edge of a table. You didn’t know if you believed him, if you believed anything would get better.
The world around you had begun to blur—sounds fading into distant echoes, shapes losing their edges until they became nothing but hazy smears of light and shadow. Your body felt heavy, unbearably so, as though the earth itself was pulling you down. The warmth of blood seeping through your clothes spread like ink in water, but you barely registered it.
All you could see, all you could focus on, was Lighter’s face hovering above you.
His usually steady, cool demeanor had shattered completely. Hair clung to his forehead, disheveled and damp with sweat, and his sunglasses were gone, revealing the vibrant red of his pupils that burned with raw panic.
“Stay with me,” he choked out, his voice rough, thick with desperation. “Come on, sweetheart, stay with me.”
You wanted to respond, to say something—anything—to ease that look on his face. But your lips wouldn’t move, your voice wouldn’t come. All you could do was stare at him through heavy-lidded eyes, watching the way his hands trembled as they pressed against your wounds, trying to stop the bleeding.
“This isn’t funny anymore, damn it,” he muttered, his voice cracking as he leaned closer, his breath uneven. “You’re not leaving me. You can’t leave me. I won’t let you.”
You managed a weak smile—a barely there tug at the corner of your mouth—as if to mock him. It was all you could offer, a bittersweet gesture, as the edges of your vision darkened further.
“Please…”
His voice broke on that single word, and you felt his hands press harder, as if trying to keep you tethered to him, to this place.
You could still see him—just barely. His eyes, usually sharp and unwavering, now shimmered with something raw and pleading. His gaze was locked on yours, as though his sheer willpower alone could hold you here.
“Don’t do this,” he whispered hoarsely. “Don’t you dare—”
But his words slipped away, dissolving into the background noise as everything around you faded to black.
The last thing you saw was him—his worried, desperate gaze burning into yours. The last thing you heard was the sound of his voice, fractured and trembling, as he screamed your name.
And then there was nothing.
_____
(I genuinely was having a broke down writing this. Life sucks btw)
❝ 뒤집고 무너트리고 삼켜. ❞
— exo, 'monster'
translation: "i’ll flip you over, break you down and swallow you up."
★ featuring ; big bad wolf!komano manato x afab!little red riding hood!reader
★ genre ; nsfw! (mdni) — follows the typical little red riding hood storyline, kinda inspired by into the woods bc its one of my favorite renditions of the story LOLOL, theres a twist at the end!!, cnc, roleplay, size kink, size difference, grinding, fingering, clit play, pet names, overstimulation, degradation, praise kink, knotting, mean and evil manato :(, biting, doggy style, rough sex, animalistic sex, dirty talk, creampie, mention of blood, also kinda inspired by cedar wood’s family from ever after high LMFAOOO, probably ooc manato… i havent done the mission yet…
★ lyric count ; 3068
★ composer's note (1) ; BOO! SURPRISE THERES ANOTHER ONE!! did i trick ya hehe this is a bit darker so read this after your treat! or maybe get your treat after… IDK YOU CHOOSE!!!
★ composer's note (2) ; inspired by this beautiful art on twt!!
★ listen on ao3 or back to playlist!
dividers by cafekitsune! photos from pinterest & zenless zone zero; edited by me!
Into the woods to your boyfriend’s house and home before dark.
Your boyfriend Manato lives in the woods.
It’s not ideal, having to go down a dark path every evening to visit him. You’ve tried convincing him to live with you. There’s plenty of room in your little cottage at the edge of town, but he always turns you down.
“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” he says like you don’t already spend every waking moment together, “Besides, I don’t want to disturb the townspeople more than I already do…”
As much as you hate to admit it, he’s right.
Manato isn’t human.
He has the ability to transform into a wolf, a very big one at that, and whenever he isn’t in that form, he still retains his wolf ears and tail. The townspeople are scared of him. They don’t look past his animalistic features to see what's within. Manato is kind, almost too kind. A handful of years ago, he had adopted two adorable children, A-Cing and A-Yuet. He had already been living a hard life, alone in the woods, but he went ahead and gave a home to these kids that had been abandoned by the town.
You supposed that’s why Manato took them in. All three of them had been rejected by the town you called home. It made you overflow with anger. How could they treat someone like this? It made you want to go live with him, but Manato said it would be better if you stayed in your cottage near the town. He doesn’t want to isolate you from the place you grew up. He knows how it feels to be rejected and he doesn’t want you to go through that too.
With much reluctance, you listened to his words. Manato only wants the best for you after all. He’ll always put you first no matter what.
It’s the same for tonight. He had told you to stay at home today, to not visit him just this once. It was a full moon, meaning more creatures than just him would be roaming the woods. It’d be dangerous if you were to try and make the trip to his abode.
But it wouldn’t be as dangerous if you were to go before the sun set, right?
You take a deep breath and close the cottage door behind you.
The sun had just begun to kiss the horizon and the rest of the townspeople were closing up for the evening. You were supposed to have left much sooner, but it’s not your fault you got distracted! Earlier in the day, you had gathered a basket of treats for Manato and the kids. It was filled with freshly baked bread and various fruits you hand-picked from the vendors. You put a lot of care into it, so you hoped they’d like what you chose.
(If only you were just a bit faster.)
As you turn to look at the woods in front of you, you try your best not to be intimidated by the never-ending dark that awaits you. Manato was right, it looks particularly dangerous tonight.
(You wrap your red cloak closer to yourself.)
No matter. You’ve already decided to visit him and you will.
You start walking into the woods without a single look back.
You do your best to stay on the path you know so well after your trips to and from his house, but it’s starting to get difficult due to the lack of light. It got dark faster than you anticipated and you think you’re about two-thirds of the way to his house when there is but a sliver of sunlight left in the sky.
You think you recognize the flower fields beside you, but it's hard to tell. Afraid of getting lost, you stop and take a moment to gather your thoughts before going any further. You feel your palms get sweaty and they grip onto the basket as a way to get your bearings.
(Okay, you came from the west, so you just have to walk a few more minutes east and then—)
Something rustles behind you.
Fear surges through your body as you whip around at the sound. It’s too dark to make out anything, but you try to anyway. You squint your eyes to get them more acquainted with the pitch black of the forest.
There doesn’t seem to be anything there.
(Maybe it was just an animal! This is the forest after all…)
You try to reassure yourself but it feels like the trees are staring at you. Maybe you should’ve worn more than a short cottage dress and red cloak. You bring the hood further down your head and wrap the rest further around your shoulders at an attempt to cover up.
Shaking out the nerves, you take a tentative step forward when you hear a twig break behind you. Your shoulders seize in fear, but you don’t turn around.
Instead, you keep going forward.
But the sound of someone behind you gets louder.
You increase your pace.
The thing behind you does as well.
You break out in a sprint.
Adrenaline rushes through your veins when they follow. You’re unsure if you’re even going the same way, but that doesn’t matter!
(Something is chasing after you!)
By the intervals of their steps and the thumping sound of their feet hitting the forest floor, the thing chasing after is large, perhaps larger than even Manato.
(But you’re not going to turn around and find out.)
You feel a something like a hand brush against the back of your hood and you think you’re about to be grabbed when─
A yelp escapes your throat as you fall onto the floor. Your foot had caught on a tree root in your dash. The basket slips out of your hand as you brace your fall, hands getting cut up from the twigs and leaves below them.
But you have no time to worry about that! Something was behind you. You turn around to catch your pursuer before they snatch you up, but there’s nothing there.
Nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing and wind fluttering through the trees.
Luckily, nothing had fallen out of your basket in your fall. The bread and fruit you spent so long choosing remain perfect even after everything.
The same thing can’t be said for yourself, however.
Your dress is dirty and cloak is dirty and your hands are covered in small cuts. In the moment, they didn’t hurt, but, now that you’ve somewhat calmed down, they sting in pain.
After your incident, you had quickly gathered your things and instinctively ran east. Thankfully, it was the right way and you found yourself in front of Manato’s house in no time. The lights were on inside and it filled you with relief to see it in the forest clearing. Still afraid, you quickly sprint up towards the front door.
You open the door and quickly lock it behind you.
A breath you didn’t know you were holding escapes as you slump against the door. You close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths to compose yourself before a smile returns to your face.
“Manato! A-Cing! A-Yuet!” you call out, “I’m home!”
No one responds.
(Weird.)
Maybe they were playing a game upstairs and couldn’t hear you. You shrug it off but can’t help the pit of paranoia brewing inside you. With the basket in your hands, you walk towards the dining room and begin to empty its contents onto the table.
You hum out a lullaby as you carefully place everything nicely when you hear a door creak behind you. The same fear you felt earlier returns as you freeze, hand hovering over the loaf of bread you had just placed down.
You creep your head around and are met with the door to Manato’s room slightly ajar. The darkness that peaks from the crack mocks you.
“H─Haha, guys… Very funny!” you nervously laugh as you approach the door. Each step feels like one closer to your demise.
You gulp as a shaky hand comes up to the door handle─
All of sudden the door slams open and you’re pulled into the darkness. Just as fast as it was opened, your body is used to slam it shut and you're pressed up against it.
The pain that spreads on your back is nothing compared to the fear you feel when you realize what has you trapped.
The room is only lit up by a couple of candles on a dresser, so it’s hard to make out his features completely. However, from what you can formulate, what you think is a large humanoid wolf has your hands pinned beside your head. His knee rests between your legs, dangerously close to your cunt. The wolf isn’t clothed aside from a pair of torn trousers that cover his legs.
Your breath comes out short pants as the wolf brings his head close to your ear.
“You gave quiet the chase earlier,” he whispers against your skin, “I almost couldn’t catch you.”
Your heart falls to the pit of your stomach.
(This… This was the thing behind you earlier!?)
“But you made it too easy, you know?” he lets out a low laugh, “Running towards the only house in this forest…”
(Fuck!)
Panic courses through your veins as you struggle against his hold, but the wolf is too strong. He’s so much bigger than you. From your current position, you’re face to face with his large chest. You can see every defined muscle as his chest rises and falls with each breath.
In a desperate attempt to get away, you try to kick his ankle, but he reacts too quickly and brings his knee up, finally making contact with your cunt. Your attempt at escape is quickly forgotten at the unwanted surge of pleasure that shoots through you. A gasp escapes your throat and your face heats up. He begins to bounce his knee up and down. You bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from releasing any sounds.
“After all that I went through to catch you,” the wolf says with a mocking pout, “And you aren’t even going to let out a whimper? You wound me, Little Red.”
You don’t want to, but you can’t help but get wet at the sound of his deep voice rumbling into your ear.
“S─Stop it─! My boyfriend! He’s gonna─Nnghh!” You try to reject him, but a sound finally escapes your lips when his knee grinds particularly hard against your clit through your dress.
The wolf chuckles and licks a stripe up your neck, “You’re boyfriend? Ah, you mean that ‘wolf’ who lives here… I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I’m afraid he won’t be joining us.”
You let out a whimper.
(You aren’t sure if it's one of fear or pleasure.)
It seems like that was the wolf’s final straw and he moves his grip to your hips to grind you onto his thigh. The pleasure shoots through you at each back and forth motion as your clit is stimulated. Your hands find refuge on his large arms.
It’s impossible to stop the sounds from escaping now and the moans tumble out of your lips. Your orgasm builds faster than you want it to and soon you're gripping onto his biceps as you attempt to escape the stimulation.
You’re too weak against him though and, with one last stroke, you’re pressed flushed against him as you come on his thigh. You whine out in pleasure, but the wolf doesn’t allow you one moment of respite before he has his hands under your knees and picks you up.
As he makes his way to Manato’s bed, the wolf continues to grind against you. However, this time it’s with his dick. You feel it press on your overstimulated cunt through his pants. A gasp escapes your lips.
He’s massive.
(There’s no way that’s going to fit inside you!)
You squirm in his grip and he finally stops moving when he drops you on the bed, but it’s only to rip your dress off you. With one clawed hand, he grips the front collar of your gown and tears it off you in one fell swoop. You let out a gasp at the cold air meeting your heated skin. It has your nipples pebbling and you try to cover yourself up, but the wolf grips your wrists together in one large hand and locks them above your head.
You press your thighs together at yet another desperate attempt to hide from him, but he uses his free hand to keep your thigh pressed flat against the bed. The wolf’s eyes never leave your cunt, which has now soaked completely through your panties. You watch, adrenaline coursing through you, as his eyes darken at the sight.
He moves the hand from your thigh and slips it under the waist band of your panties. With uncharacteristic gentleness, his cold hand touches your hot cunt, fingers gathering up your arousal and teasing your entrance.
Without warning, the wolf presses two fingers in at once and you’re arching into him with a moan. You already feel so full and drunk when all he’s done is grind and finger you.
“Just two fingers and you’re already moaning like a bitch in heat,” He laughs into your ear.
His words have you hiding your face against your arm. He doesn’t seem to like that you aren’t looking anymore and starts pumping his fingers at a harsher pace. The ministrations catch you off guard and when you open your eyes, the wolf is grinning at you, fangs bared.
He notices that you clench harder around him and knows you’re close. The wolf stops pumping his fingers and they find the spongy spot inside you that has you trying to kick him away.
The pleasure you’re feeling is overwhelming and, despite how good it feels, you want to get away.
(It’s too much─!)
You come with a high pitched whine.
“There we go—! Just like that─my Little Red.”
He groans into your ear and it almost sounds as if he’s orgasming too. But you know he hasn’t reached his high when he separates himself from you to practically tear himself out of his pants. The wolf shoves down his pants and kicks them off once they reach his ankles.
Your eyes widen when they see the wolf’s cock. The tip is red and angry, copious amounts of precum already leaking out. He’s long and you know if he were to put it inside you, he’d be hitting kissing your cervix at every thrust. He is incredibly thick, too. You’d need two hands to wrap around him fully. However, the most intimidating part about his dick is the thick knot where his shaft meets his base.
His cock seems to react to your staring and twitches slightly.
(You flush and gulp the saliva that’s built up in your throat.)
“While I appreciate the stare,” the wolf begins to crawl on top of you, “I need to be inside you now before I lose it.”
He grips your hips and flips you over onto your stomach. Warm hands lift them up into the air while your face stays laying on the wet sheets. His tip pokes your entrance and you finally seem to sober up from your daze.
“N─No! You’re too big!”
You try to crawl away, but the wolf grips your hips and drags you back towards him.
Your pleas fall on death’s ears as he forces his length inside you. Your ass is pressed flush against his hips and the both of you are moaning out in pleasure. He hits everywhere inside you and, like you guessed, kisses your cervix perfectly. The wolf begins to move inside you with long, hard thrusts that have you gripping on the bedding below you.
“F─Fuck! You’re so tight, sweetheart? Your little wolf must not be fucking you very well, is he?”
"Don't—ah.. Don’t say that about M─Manato!”
The wolf’s harsh words at your boyfriend has you fuming.
"He's—He's so kind─ngh! And he─he loves me!”
The wolf pauses his movements, as if contemplating your words. After a short moment, he finally lets out a breathless laugh, head hanging low as he comes down to press his chest against your back. His form covers you entirely and you feel him pant against your neck.
You think he’s going to say something to you, but all he does is dig his teeth onto your shoulder and thrust harder. His bite draws blood and keeps you in his embrace when you want to crawl away. Almost as if your words have stirred him on, he fucks you at an unrelenting pace. The wolf’s thrusts grow erratic and he’s jackhammering into you. Short, shallow thrusts not giving you a second to breathe before he’s fucking your womb again. He’s bruising your insides with his dick and you can’t do anything but lay there and take it.
“Shit! Baby, I’m close─” The wolf growls, teeth still dug in your neck, “Come with me─come with me, sweetheart. I need to feel you clench around me.”
He sneaks a hand between where you meet and his fingers immediately find your puffy clit. After all the rubbing he has already done to you, your clit is still painfully overstimulated and your orgasm quickly catches up to you.
“Fuck─! [N─Name]!”
He comes with a whine of your name, face finally leaving your neck, and presses in as deep as he can go. His knot bullies its way into your cunt and you cum at the stretch. You feel him fill you up, warm cum seeping into your womb, and it has you clenching around him as your own orgasm washes you. He slowly grinds his hips inside you to help you ride your high. Feeling nice and full, You slump against the bed once it’s over and he collapses on top of you.
The wolf presses a loving kiss to your shoulder and you smile.
Later into the night, Manato nuzzles the crook of your neck.
“You’re lucky the kids are spending the night with Alice… Don’t ever make me do that again…” He mumbles.
You let out a small laugh and bring a hand up to pet his ears. He melts on top of you and his tail begins to wag.
“I’m sorry, baby,” you tell him, “I was just so curious about this big, bad wolf everyone was talking about.”
(You can’t see it, but Manato’s face flushes red)
“I told you not to listen to those rumors!”
sigh.... manato.... sigh....
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Contents: Komano Manato x gn reader. Not proof read, we die like men out here. Just pure horny ramble. I don't even play the game bro but that doesn't matter and I need this man rn. Enjoy y'alls smut.
18+, MDNI, NSFW under the cut
Komano Manato was a tower of a man, sturdy with a chest comparable to a barrel and strong arms to match. One big hand fanned itself on your lower back, keeping you on your knees while the other held your head down into the soft pillows.
Ass up and proper, the slapping sound of skin against skin was a distant rhythm to your buzzing ears as you were made to see stars behind your eyelids.
“That’s it.. you love me taking you like this, hm?” his voice filled with gravel as he leaned toward your ear, only receiving a cry in response that made the edges of his lips twitch in a smirk. He hummed in satisfaction when your walls twitched, squeezing him, fluttering so prettily around him he couldn’t resist the urge to push harder, deeper into you.
“Sing for me, pretty bird” he coos, pressing his hips flush against your ass and lingering like that for a moment too long, letting you feel how deep he was inside you, twitching and eager. “Let me hear you beg for it” His thrust only resumed after hearing your desperate pleas for a release, feeling his own climax nearing. It was too much, you thought through the fog in your mind, feeling the ends of your fingertips and toes go numb with pleasure, your knees about to give out and your lungs begging for that sweet air, but pleasure was more important than a swallow of air as Manato finally pushed you over the edge, fucking you through your orgasm that had you seeing sparks and white all at once. His own orgasm crashed over him quickly after, and he released deep within you, fucking you into the matres till you lay flat on your belly and he was flush against you, his big body caging you underneath him.
He remained still, still sensitive and twitching but not pulling out. His hot breath fanned down your nape in quick successions, his fluffy tail brushing against your calves as it slowly wagged in lazy drags. You felt so full and boneless.
Who knew pulling on his tail could crash the dominos that led to this.
Ⓒ starrydragoness. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
You are alone; a feeling that brings back unwanted emotions and memories. Much to Katsuki’s dismay yet expectation, it brought resentment. Every creak or subtle movement created anxiety, panic, and hope? Hope that the one person who causes you this much distress is entering through that door? Or do you hope that someone is coming through to take you away from this hell?
Though you did not want to face the truth, you missed Katsuki. Correction; you missed human interaction. He is the only human willing to give you that. Katsuki is sure of that.
You attempt to remember a life that was without Katsuki. The thought itself felt freeing yet terrifying. How can one man have so much power over your mind, body, and soul? Maybe he is right — you really are weak.
A lump forms in your throat. There is a world outside that needs to be seen by your own pupils. You see the characters in anime get to explore Japan and then some. That should be you. It needs to be you. You do not even recall the last time you felt grass between your bare toes or the beautiful melodies of an outdoor windchime. That’s enough for resentment to cycle its way through again.
The collar lays tight around your neck, making uncomfortable dents into your vocal chords. You are used to your own specialized collar that Katsuki personalized just for you. This one felt foreign and too bulky. Oh, and the fact you could get shocked at any moment didn’t help. You didn’t even want to touch the television remote in fear of being zapped. At least you have today’s events to keep your brain busy.
The feeling of Katsuki’s calloused fingertips touching your skin felt so comforting. Dammit, it disgust you. You missed being touched and acknowledged. Katsuki removed the only thing he could provide for you. The way you could feel his natural warm breath on you and the way you could not meet his eyes, you could feel that they were on you. They were seeing you.
Only you.
Someone is seeing your form after days of being neglected. Katsuki has a way of looking through people when he is in a mood. For once, since the incident, you were seen. It may not be the look you desperately wanted, but it was something.
Katsuki finally spoke to you. The sound of the television fell on numb ears. You wanted actual communication. An actual human being listening and speaking to you. Katsuki is not much of a conversationalist, but he knew how to listen. When you were needing his constant attention, you told him stories about your upbringing over dinner. His infamous scowl laid on his features, but his ears were intrigued. They listened. All you wanted is to be heard by somebody.
These memories rattled your brain, but not as much as the simple phrase that came out of your mouth today. A phrase you are certain you did not even feel.
“I love you.” You repeated, but the words did not come out. They rested within your esophagus. You couldn’t make them come out if you wanted to. You hate that the phrase even fell off your tongue as Katsuki walked out the front door. Did you even mean it?
No.
You have not been in love much in your youth, but you know what the emotion contains. For a fact, you know that is something Katsuki does not give you. At least, not anymore. A brief period of time you believed you held this feeling. That is what abuse does to a person, but Katsuki’s mistake is thinking that silence would only make you need him more or go back to your old ways. If anything, it gave you time to reflect. That is the last thing Katsuki needed you to do. Even if you had a mere chance of being in love, this isn’t healthy love. You both are smart enough to know this. You miss your family. You miss your friends, but most of all, you miss you.
The thought sprouted tears in your eyes. You know better than to love Katsuki. Katsuki’s abuse tried to convince you otherwise, you know better than to fall for the lies. This is not the life you are made to live. You have too many great attributes to provide the world. Being stuck in Katsuki’s grasp is not one of them. You have to fight. You have made this way too easy. You refused to fight in order to live. You wanted to be free from the hell Katsuki formed for you within the months.
Clenched fist wiped your eyes once more as the fire burned within them. If Katsuki wants you to play the game so bad, you will play it. You will play it so well that Katsuki will be the one that’s a fool. Not you.
You will fight.
Looking into the camera in the corner of the room, you hiss through gritted teeth, “mark my words Katsuki, I will escape you and avenge what you have taken from me.”
Lucky for you, Katsuki did not see your declaration. He had other important matters to attend to.
Katsuki’s stomach churn at the blinding flashes. He can hear the chatter amongst the press in front of his corporation and it only sent his anxiety through the roof. His stylist made sure not a thread was out of place on his expensive tailored suit. His natural messy blonde hair was perfected in a way they both could agree on. Rare that they agreed on much, but they did at times.
“Ready?” Leiko asked, arching a brow with a deep breath. She could read Katsuki well. He always had a way of speaking without verbally saying what his dark mind carries.
If only she knew his darkest of secrets.
Katsuki gave her a nod, walking out the glass doors that are held open by his assistants. Walking up to the wooden podium, the paparazzi bombarded the pro-hero with questions and microphones.
“Pro-Hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite, how are you recovering?”
“Dynamite, sir, do you have any idea where the missing girl is?”
“Pro-Hero Great Explosion God Dynamite, is it true that the missing woman, Y/N Y/L/N, sent in letters asking for your agency’s assistance?”
Katsuki is visibly growing annoyed with the media’s list of questions. Though the spotlight has trained him well, Katsuki is still a short tempered man. He does not even want to be here and his body language spoke that.
Before Katsuki could say anything he would regret, Leiko took his place at the podium and calmed the crowd.
“Everyone, please, relax. Pro-Hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite will answer your questions here shortly. We do not have much time so please be considerate. Thank you.”
The crowd followed Leiko’s instructions, calming down to a low mutter amongst each other. Katsuki exhaled the breath he held within his organs. He reversed his lines with Leiko, though, his mind could not register the words being spoken. He needs to protect you. He needs to keep you safe. The only way he is going to do that is by keeping the media quiet.
Katsuki switched spots with Leiko, adjusting the black skinny microphone to meet his height. The amount of cameras rolling and flashing was causing his nerves to have anxiety. Though, he remained calm. Clearing his throat, he begins.
“Hello, I am Pro-Hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite. I came here to discuss the concerns of the public. First and foremost, I am recovering well and will be back to saving lives like I always do. So, you can stop talking shit on your shitty little blogs.”
“Dynamite—“ Leiko interrupted through gritted teeth, but the raise of Katsuki’s hand told her to shut it. A deep sigh fell from Leiko’s nostrils. She has to let her boss handle things his way.
“Furthermore, the villain attack in Tokyo was nothing. I kick villains' asses everyday. I am more than capable of doing my damn job so I would highly appreciate it if you learned to shut the hell up about it. Any questions?”
Chatter amongst the crowd before the hero picked up. His self-assured, cocky attitude always made him media entertainment whether people admit it or not. A few hurt feelings sure did sell. The press could not help themselves. One woman decided to speak up.
“Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite,” the female bowed before Katsuki in respect, “I am happy you are getting back to your hero duties, but I must know; is there any leads on where the missing woman, Y/L/N Y/N, can be?”
Katsuki’s grip on the podium became noticeably firmer as he stiffened. He wanted to blow the woman to ash. No one should have your name on their tongue. You should not even be a thought to anyone else but him.
Only him.
Katsuki did not mention your name on purpose. He was hoping his selfish ways will get the press more riled up about him that they forget all about you. Katsuki may not like the game, but he sure does play it well. When his ego speaks, the paparazzi take it and run.
This time, the game did not work. Doing the only logical thing he can think of, already way off script from before, he looks the reporter straight in the eye.
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