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Most Recent:
Birds of a Feather (Midoriya x Reader) (Bakugo x Reader) | Part 1 | Part 2 |
HC: Dem boyz as boyfriends (Bakugo/Todoroki/Midoriya x Reader)
In Progress:
Birds of a Feather: Pt. 3 (Midoriya x Reader) (Bakugo x Reader)
In which Midoriya is the love of your life, but you're not his. In this, you navigate the stormy waters of heartbreak, and at the eye of the storm, you find Bakugo... But, you know what they say: birds of a feather flock together.
PS: I have some other blogs! (They're still under construction)
A/n | at this point I shouldn't even be surprised with myself for taking so long to get this second part done. For some reason I struggled so hard getting from point a to point b.
Pairing | (ex)Midoriya x Reader | Bakugo x Reader
Warnings | Lots of cursing.
Summary | In which Midoriya is the love of your life, but you’re not his. In this, you navigate the stormy waters of heartbreak, and at the eye of the storm, you find Bakugo… But you know what they say: birds of a feather flock together.
Masterlist
| Part 1 |✨Part 2 ✨| Part 3: In progress
You’re running. There’s something biting at your heels; cold, looming, crushing. Your legs ache, and each step you take feels like you're wading through rushing water. A straight hallway with ugly grey wallpaper and water staining stretches out endlessly before you. Uneven floorboards that creak with each step and groan with the swaying walls. Old wooden doors are evenly spaced along the walls. You tried a few but found them all locked. The feeling of the icy water against your legs is rising higher, almost to your waist; yet there’s no water in sight.
God, you want to scream, but you can hardly bring in enough air to keep yourself upright. Pressure in your chest and tears clouding your eyes, you struggle to keep your footing against the swaying floorboards. There’s a pinch in your ankle, and suddenly you’re blinking at the deep grooves in the floorboards. What are you running from?
Doesn’t matter. You need to go. You try and push yourself up, legs scrambling to right yourself. Your body goes stiff as you’re consumed by a biting coldness, and slammed against the ground.
You can’t breathe. A single gasp for air, and you can feel your lungs filling with that same iciness. You’ve felt this before. Pulled under the waves at the beach on a family vacation; this horror, the burn… It’s the same. You’re drowning in the middle of a hallway with no water in sight.
Your fingers scratch against the floorboards, and you strain to look up, your gaze becoming fuzzy. Surrounded by light, you see a black figure… A person? Someone, running to you. Your mouth snaps shut. If you could just get the words out, maybe they’ll be able to save you…
Save you from what?
Your vision grows fuzzy, then dark, and your head falls with a harsh thunk on the floor.
You grunt as your fingers run over the cool wood floor. You feel the soft touch of a fuzzy rug and crack your eyes open as the sound of a door creaking open reaches your ears. The white ceiling above you has squares of pink and orange light cast across it from the window, and your sight is blocked by a familiar face craning over you.
“You okay?” You blink at him, ruby eyes steadily keeping your own confused gaze. “Did you hit your head?” He kneels down and waves his hand over your face, “Anyone home in there?” Swatting his hand away, you push yourself up and cradle your head as it begins throbbing.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“What do you mean?” He scoffs and then offers a cup of water; it’s in your favorite mug, one of the two that were hanging next to the coffee machine. There’s only one hanging there now. You turn your eyes away and mumble no thanks. “You invited me to stay, dumbass.” Turning your eyes over the room, the suffocating memory of crying yourself to sleep – strangling your sobs with your pillow so Bakugo could sleep properly – rushes back to you. You can only manage to hum back to him in response. You play with the sleeve of your shirt before mumbling the first thing that came to your mind to direct his attention from your dulling gaze.
“Did you sleep okay?”
“Once you finally shut up, yeah.”
“I thought you were already asleep!” You squeak. “You were snoring when I left.”
“Just cause I was snoring doesn’t mean I wouldn’t wake back up to you wailing in here…” Shoving the cup of water in your hand, he moves himself to the doorway and gazes down at you. “How’re you feeling?” Your nose scrunches and your eyes narrow.
“Who are you?” He frowns at you.
“Don’t.” The word comes out softly as he crosses his arms.
“What have you done with Bakugo?”
“Y/n, don’t.” His mouth lifts a little and the corners of his lips bury in his cheek. His eyes soften and almost take on a warm glimmer. “Let’s be adults for like ten seconds; are you okay?”
“I’m okay.” You quietly say, tapping your fingers against the glass and staring at the ripples. “You?” It’s quiet.
“I’m hungry.”
“How?” Your stomach rolls and you swallow thickly.
“I didn’t get shit faced. Get dressed. Let’s go to the store, I’ll make breakfast.”
“Why do I have to go?” You whine.
“Cause I’m wearing fuckin’ Garfield pajama pants!” He gestures to his pants; you hadn’t noticed. You blink and then scoff.
“You went to the bar in them last night! What’s so different now?” You quip back. He grunts and turns on his heel, shoves his hands into his pockets, and stiffly walks down the hallway mumbling profanities under his breath.
Heaving out a sigh, you pull on a sweatshirt over your t-shirt, and straighten out your sweatpants. You couldn’t let him go alone, especially if the only thing he escaped last night with was a pair of pajama pants… Can’t he just starve like everyone else who’s going through a hard breakup? You don’t even feel like being awake, let alone going to the damn grocery.
“I’ll go.” He finishes tying his shoes and grabs his keys before meeting your eye.
“Thanks.”
You leave the house with a small piece of paper scribbled with Bakugo’s sharp writing tight in your hand; the list is small… It’s easy enough.
Hand closing on the carton of eggs, you cast your eye to the two women on your left. You examine the eggs in your hand for cracks, but also consider the sneer placed on that ladies lips, amplified by the bubblegum pink lipstick painted on them. Usually, you don’t mind what other people have to say about you, but you expect them to not make it obvious they’re gawking at you… These ladies are definitely not considering the assortment of cheeses displayed in front of them. One with curly, short brown hair and deep lines under her eyes looks you up and down while her friend scrolls on her phone and casts piercing glances at you. You meet their eyes evenly before you take notice of the man across you shooting daggers. Heat spreads through your gut. You try and iron out your expression but bite the inside of your cheek.
Do you have something on your face? You lightly run your fingers over the corners of your mouth, push your hair from your face, and pat it down. It leaves your stomach a little heavier than before, and you’re grateful that you only have one thing left on the list. Some people don’t look at you while you pick out bread, but a young couple down the aisle point and whisper. You can’t make out anything they’re saying. You start toward them, set to keep moving past them, but then you meet their eye, and the words are suddenly pouring from your mouth:
“It’s so sad to see adults acting like children.” You look to the keys clenched in her hand, adorned with a keychain that says ‘#MomLife’; it actually makes your eye twitch. “I’m nervous for your kids.” You march away to the check-out.
You’re not sure why so many people in the store shot you looks like you were their high school best friend that stabbed them in the back, but you’re grateful that the clerk didn’t. All you have to do is pay and then you're out of here; no more weird glances, no more grannies mumbling to their son in the checkout lane about you. Your chest tightens and throat constricts. You can’t make out all of the words, but as you collect your bags, you hear her whisper:
“They’re dispicable.”
You flinch at the words and hurry from the store. What does she mean? Why would she say that? How the hell does she even know you? You grab for the car door and smack your lips when you find it locked. Bakugo spares you a glance from his phone and unlocks the door.
“Got it all?” He asks as he looks back to his phone, finishing a very long text with his lips pulled down into a thin frown. You nod, run your hands over your sweats, and turn your gaze back to the grocery store doors, flooded with people going in and out. You think of every eye that was on you, and wonder what would happen if you walked back in. Would they all stare at you like that again? Maybe you have something on your clothes? You pat yourself down, but – aside from a badly coordinated outfit – nothing is amiss. You flip down the mirror to double check your face for awkwardly placed drool.
Just paled skin and your sad eyes staring back. You freeze up as your stomach rolls. Sucking in a deep breath, you push the mirror back up and turn your eyes away again. Bakugo watches you with pinched brows.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” You answer, running your hands over your pants again.
“I don’t like liars.”
“Who does?” You scoff back, keeping your eyes on anything except his eyes that you feel drilling into you from the driver’s seat. Of all the things you find wonderful about Bakugo, his intense gaze has never been it. It’s like he has laser vision, peering right into you to read your mind like a children’s book.
“So don’t lie to me.”
“’Kay.” He doesn’t move to start driving. “What does it matter?” You snap, sending him a glare, but it quickly fizzles out as you meet his eye. Your eyes fall to your hands. “Can we go home?”
“Fine.” Bakugo grumbles at you under his breath for a minute. Your eyes flutter shut, and you rub your eyes.
“Did he message you?” He asks through the silence that's fallen between the two of you.
“No.”
“Look, can ya just tell me?”
“When you go out in public, do people look at you like you’re less than shit?”
“What? No! Did-“ Bakugo glances between you and the road, “Did someone do something to you in the store?”
“Nothing happened-“
“You can’t say nothing happened! Look at you! What the fuck happened?”
“Nothing, Bakugo. Everyone in there… They were just giving me weird looks.” You shake your head. “Maybe I was being crazy.” But that doesn’t explain the whispering. “When I was in line… The women behind me was whispering with her son and said ‘They’re dispicable’. And she was looking directly at me… Could I have heard them wrong? I don’t even know who they are!” He’s silent for a beat.
“What a bitch!” He blurts randomly. “Who just fuckin says that about someone they don’t know?” His hands grip the steering wheel tightly and he speeds up.
“Is my outfit that bad?” You wonder with a dry chuckle.
“No worse than mine.” His gray pajama pants with Garfield eating lasagna and a plain red t-shirt puts a small smile on your lips.
“I can understand why she said it if that’s the case.”
The rest of your drive passes in silence. He stops his car near the building instead of parking; you send him a confused look.
“Whatcha doin?”
“Dropping you off. I have to make a phone call really quick. Head on in and clean yourself up. I’ll be up in a few.” You watch him and nod. Taking up the few bags of groceries, you wave him off. When did he get so nice? Maybe he’s always been this nice, just not to you. He must've bagged it all up and gave it to Uraraka this whole time.
What a waste. It puts a bad taste in your mouth, so you swallow it and put the groceries away. You’re a little grateful for the silence in your apartment – even if it’s short lived – and decide a hot shower should put you right. You grab your comfiest clothes and head to the bathroom. You avoid looking at the mirror, light a candle, and flick the light off; the stupid vent turns on with the light, and you don’t feel like hearing all of that right now. You want a nice, hot, quiet shower.
You stand in the shower, still as a statue, watching your skin become irritated under the water. Emotions pile up on you like dirt and sweat, and you’ve not given much thought to how disgusting you’ve felt. The feeling of the water stream pelting on the back of your head, almost blocking every sound from the outside world, lulls you into a mindless state. You forget yourself as you stand swaying in the shower with shut eyes. Before you know it, it’s been ten minutes and the front door of your apartment is slamming shut. You almost felt the floor shake from how hard the door was slammed, and it makes your stomach tumble right back down into hell.
You scrub up quickly, dry and dress, then head out to the kitchen to see what the deal is. Bakugo is fast at work. His broad shoulders are visibly tense, and the longer you watch him, the more you notice how stiffly he’s moving, how hard he’s slamming the knife down onto the cutting board, and his uneven, heavy breaths.
“You okay?” You’re tired of hearing that sentence; it’s been less than twenty-four hours, but you’ve heard it enough. Bakugo’s hands slow before he continues working away, switching between checking the food cooking on the stove and dicing vegetables. At his silence, you shrug and brew some coffee. “I feel better after the shower. You should take one, I’ll clean up after we eat.” He grunts back at you. “I have some big shirts I can let you borrow… I might be able to find a pair of sweats that’ll fit you somewhere…” You fill the silence with idle chatter, pouring yourself a cup of coffee, and offer to pour him some.
“More of a juice guy.”
“Interesting.” You say. You snatch up the orange juice and pour him a glass.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Your chest lightens as he seems to come back into himself a little bit, and you shrug.
“Dunno… Figured you for a bitter drink man. You know, macho man, no one can see you eating anything sweet.” You set the table as he lays out the collection of small dishes he’s put together. “It’s amazing that you managed to put this together from the random assortment of shit in my fridge.”
“Yeah, just don’t go telling everybody I made ya breakfast.”
“Why not?”
“Doesn’t fit the image.”
“And drinking juice does?” He sits in the seat across from you with a hard look but a lift in his lip. “Anyways, what’s image got to do with being able to cook? Is it a bad thing that you can put together a great meal? Does it make you less of a man? Less of a hero?”
“No.” He curtly responds. “I just don’t want the entire world to know me.”
“Well, that doesn’t make much sense considering your life’s dream.”
“Being number one hero is… Not being a celebrity with tabloid articles being written about every little fucking thing that I do. The littlest shit is fucking gold to those leeches. An accountant goes out to get drinks with his buddies, he just went out to get drinks with his buddies… But me? I go out to get drinks with my buddies and then suddenly I’m a fucking drunk, an alcoholic who went out on a rager and pissed on some grannies lawn ornaments.” You watch him somehow eat his food angrily. Blinking at him, you sit your utensils down, and try to meet his eye.
“Bakugo… What is it?” He stops when you finally catch his eye. “Something is bothering you. You can tell me.” Bakugo tears his ruby eyes away, blinking quickly.
“When you said that people were giving you weird looks in the store… Saying shit like that… I thought, there’s no reason anyone would know who you are.” He pauses, then adds, “No offense.”
“None taken. It’s true.” People – as far as they know – know you’re in a relationship with Midoriya, but you’ve never been one to attend the galas or walking the carpet; the events scared you. Paparazzi never paid you much mind.
“Midoriya tried to keep you from that. So… I had my secretary do a little digging…” Your heart flips in your chest like a fish out of water; you know where this is going, but you’re hoping to whatever god is listening that you’re wrong. Maybe, by some dumb luck, that you’re completely wrong. Bakugo unlocks his phone and drops it on the table, spinning it toward you. Pointing at the screen, he continues, “Published last night. The prick must've been up all night drooling over his laptop.”
“Dynamite enjoys late night fling?” The words almost taste like poison in your mouth. It’s a weak article of four, single sentence paragraphs accompanied by one dark and grainy photo. But anyone who knew Bakugo could recognize the spikey blond hair. Anyone who knows you would see your drunken face or recognize your apartment building. Your breath shutters from you, and you swallow. “Bakugo.” His name is the only thing you can squeeze out. This is bad. This is really bad.
Not just for you, but for him. Especially for him. He has an image to maintain, but if the world thinks he’s the type of man to have a fling with his best friend’s partner… He could lose everything. His lips somehow pull themselves farther down, and his brows fall slack.
“Bakugo, this… This…” He nods slowly.
“I know.”
“This is bad.” Now everyone is going to think you cheated. That it’s your fault things are like this. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Tears bubble into your eyes - what can you say, you're a crybaby for the week - while you try and force out a coherent sentence. The more you try, though, the more muddied your words become. Your heart clenches in your chest, “That’s not true. What do we do?” You heave in a breath, trying to keep your eyes on Bakugo’s worrying expression, but you look back to the photo, “It’s published on Super Gossip.”
Bakugo nods, “Yeah, we’re trying to find who took the picture.”
“It’s midafternoon, Bakugo.” Your lip quivers, “Half the fucking world has seen this already.” You watch his eyes shut as he lets out a heavy breath, and he worries his lip with his teeth.
“I know.” He sighs and roughly rubs his hand over his face, “Best we can do is damage control.” Super Gossip is only the most useless, brain-dead, flaming piece of crap hero gossip magazine in the world. A lot of people read this magazine like the damn bible. You know for a fact that Midoriya has seen this article. Which means he knows that Bakugo went home with you last night. What does he think you did last night? Is he thinking what everyone else is? That you had a late-night fling with him just to get back at Midoriya? Where does Uraraka stand on this?
Your insides are on fire, and somehow, you feel small. You want to cover up all your windows and check outside for some creep camped among the bushes; you didn’t even see anyone in the parking lot when you both got home last night… Violated. You feel violated. Your arms wrap around your quaking body, and you glance to the open kitchen window.
How long were they camped outside of your apartment? Waiting and watching your window for the slightest movement? You heave in a breath and snap your gaze over to Bakugo; you're grateful that at least you had Dynamite sleeping on your couch, it gives you some sort of comfort.
“What do we do?” You repeat. “My reputation doesn’t matter much, I’m just a florist and no one really knows my name unless they dig. But you-“
“They’ll dig.” Bakugo is watching you carefully. A look in his eye, just below his furrowed brow, that tells you he doesn’t want to scare you, but he can’t lie. “They will dig up things you don’t want them to know, and before you know it, you’ll be on the front pages until we make it clear what’s going on.”
“Oh, yeah. Easy enough.” You push your food away; your appetite slunk out the door as soon as you read the article. “I’ll just let them know that the number one hero who I’ve spent four years worshipping the ground he walked on left me for the girl he had a crush on in high school – who happened to be your fiancé – and in my drunk rantings I asked you to stay with me. It’s all just one big misunderstanding… Yeah, let’s just throw this pile of steaming shit on Uraraka and Midoriya’s reputation.” You spit out in a panic. If you just went out there and told the media the truth the fingers would start pointing at Midoriya. That’s if they even believe you – a nobody who grows flowers for a living – over their golden boy Deku.
“It’s the truth.” Bakugo reasons. “I’m not gonna just let these little ants sit there and spread lies like this.”
“They’ll eat Midoriya alive.”
“What do you care?” He snaps at you, stands from his place at the table, and snatches his phone up. “That asshole is the reason we’re all here.”
“Uraraka had a hand in it too, Bakugo. They’ll dig into her too.” Your voice is low as you stand from your seat and put yourself in the doorway of the kitchen; he’s started to clean up the barely touched breakfast.
“And they’ll get what they deserve. They did this. I’m not just gonna sit around and let my career suffer for them.” You open your mouth to reason, “If they cared about their reputation, they wouldn’t have gone behind our backs like that.”
“So, what? You’re gonna call the author up and ask him to coffee?” Bakugo stares at you blankly before nodding.
“Yeah. I am.” You stand in silence, watching Bakugo until you near him and start to help pack the leftovers away.
“Super Gossip will take everything you say and twist it into something you never said. Maybe you should talk to your manager first?” He shakes his head while putting the last of the food in the fridge. He takes up his phone.
“No. I’m telling this asshole he’s an idiot and he’s pointing his finger at the wrong people.” His gaze is sharp as he stares at you – you know that anger is not for you, but it makes your heart flip to see it in his eyes – before he begins dialing a phone number.
“Okay, okay… Look, maybe we need to call Midoriya and Uraraka before we do this?” You reason, pulling his phone from his ear.
“You’re asking me to ask him for permission?” Under his suffocating crimson gaze, you feel your shoulders sag, just a little bit, but you keep your eyes locked on his. “To tell the truth?”
“Not permission, Bakugo. Just because Midoriya acted like a piece of shit, doesn’t mean we should too.”
“How is this,” He sends a glance to his ringing phone, “shitty?” His eyes narrow at you.
“If we’re going to the press, we need to consider what we say and do. We don’t need to ruin their reputation like this.”
“Ruining their reputation is shitty? Y/n, you’re kidding me!” He rounds the table to near you, bending slightly to match your height, “You have to be kidding me! They cheated. They fucking cheated on us and now we have a gossip article written about us?” His raised voice falls, “You think we’re the shitty ones?” You tap the screen to end the call.
“We’re not shitty. But what will pointing our fingers back do?” He shakes his head and continues.
“This is not shitty.” He waves the phone between the two of you. “You know what is shitty, Y/n? Sleeping with your best friends fiancé.” His voice begins raising, “Showing up to my house in the middle of the night with a few boxes and crying ‘Oh, Y/n left me. Let me stay best friend,’ is shitty. Smiling in my face, eating at my table, sleeping in one of my beds, and then fucking my fiancé while I’m trying to sleep?” His eyes have become irritated with tears, and they bunch up on his bottom lid. You’ve drawn back, gawking at him with your mouth opening and closing. "That's shitty, Y/n. Not this. Not me."
“Is that how you found out, Bakugo?” You whisper. His chest is rising and falling with heavy, frantic breaths, and you can see his hands shaking as he tries to keep control of himself.
“I wanted a glass of water.” His voice was so quiet compared to what it just was. A bitter smile pushes over his lips as he turns away from you and walks into the dark living room. “It’s all just a fucking joke.” Bakugo throws his phone onto the coffee table and his hands find purchase in his sandy blond locks. “It’s just a sick joke, Y/n.” You swallow, your lips quivering and stomach twisting. You saw Bakugo like this last night, and you don’t find it any easier to see now. With a deep breath, you sit on the opposite side of the couch.
You’d like to comfort Bakugo, but you're reeling in a storm of new emotions and thoughts you didn’t have last night. Finding out how Bakugo discovered all of this out; he probably didn’t even see it coming. Your heart is caving in for him. Also learning that even though Midoriya swore he was telling you the truth; he was still lying to your face. You’re considering every time that he pulled away from your touch, seemed to be so uncomfortable with even the slightest display of affection. It feels like your chest may burst if you don’t ask Bakugo the question bouncing around your head; how long had their relationship been physical?
“I’m sorry.” Is all you can manage. You’ve not got much in your cup. Hell, your cup is dry as a desert right now.
“So let me make the call.” He pleads, head rolling to look at you. “Look,” Bakugo breaks the silence again, leaning forward with his elbows rested on his knees, “It’s not like I am happy to throw them both under the wheel like this… But I won’t lose my job for this.” His eyes are set, and his lips in a thin line. When this look crosses Bakugo’s eye, you know better than to try and change his mind. You sigh.
“Even if you do call them, why would they believe you?” He draws back. “Anyone accused of being a cheat would have a story lined up just like this. You do this and it’ll just look like you’re pointing a finger away from you.” He’s quiet, for once. You’re a little surprised. “If we call up Midoriya and Uraraka, explain the situation, and ask them to set things straight, we might be able to settle this issue without any problems.”
“You think they’re gonna want to admit what they did to the world?” You shrug.
“I don’t know.” Bakugo rolls his head and rubs the back of his neck. You can tell he’s not too happy with the situation, but you can’t think of a better solution. “But on the off chance that Midoriya will do it, I think we should at least try.”
“Alright, but you call him. And if he refuses the first thing I’m going to do after I kick his ass is call this magazine up and air all of his dirty underwear.” He levels you with a stern look, “All of it.”
“At that point, Bakugo, I wouldn’t stop you.” A ghost of a smile pushes onto your lips. “I’ll get my phone.” It’s great that he is listening to you right now and all… But you never thought that you’d be the one calling those two; it just didn’t cross your mind. It makes your legs heavy as lead as you trudge back to your room. It’s the last thing you want to do. Staring at your phone on your bed like you’re superman and it’s kryptonite, you start to wonder if it really would be so bad to just let Bakugo make that call. Midoriya is the piece of shit that, after taking up five years of your life, fucked the woman that he said was just his friend and lied to you about it twice.
You take up your phone and head out to the living room anyways. Your skin has paled, and you give Bakugo a sideways glance; he’s onto you like white on rice.
“If you don’t want to make that call I can just-“ You raise your hand to him and click your tongue.
“Ah, ah!” You level him with a strong, yet watery-eyed look, and say, “A good friend wouldn’t tempt an alcoholic with a bottle; don’t give me an out.” He surrenders his hands.
“Suit yourself. Personally, I’d let those two rot.”
“I’m not doing this because I care about what happens to them,” That’s a lie and you both know it; Bakugo gives you a flat expression, “It’s because I’m a reasonable adult who wants to handle this so we can all make it out unscathed.” Your voice and fingers are trembling as you type in his phone number. Your throat tightens up when his contact pulls up… You haven’t changed his contact name yet, so it still has that stupid heart and the nickname you gave him long ago; and that stupid picture of him too. It has your lungs burning and tightening for more air.
Are you ready to hear his voice? Your body feels like it’s being torn apart; one end being pulled by excitement, longing to see him and hear him again, and the other being pulled to hell with rage, betrayal, and disgust. What will you even say? What if you stumble over your words? You know you will as soon as you hear him say hello; everything you have scripted out will fly from your head just like it did last night. Your heart is racing, and it feels like there’s syrup running through your veins instead of blood. It hurts. And it won’t stop until you just call him.
You clench your jaw; you just have to call him.
“Y/n? You okay?” Bakugo’s voice butts in like he’s calling you from the end of a tunnel. Your eyes are wide and unblinking on the phone screen as you nod and hum back to him. No, you’re not okay… Why are you saying you’re okay? You feel like your about to throw up your heart and the world might break in half.
Midoriya can’t know that though, so you take a few deep breaths and repeat over and over, “I’m okay.” You say it until your voice doesn’t crack, doesn’t waver, and isn’t thick with tears. You dial his number and bring the phone to your ear. Fingers tap your knees as you wait, and you can feel Bakugo’s eyes burning holes into the side of your head. Maybe he won’t answer – the thought makes you feel a little giddy – and you’ll be able to say you tried calling him when he's the one with an article written about him.
“Y/n?” You almost black out when you hear his voice come through the phone. So soft, shaking, like he thinks he could kill you with just one word. You’re sure he could do just that, and it scares you a little. “Hello? Y/n?”
“Yeah... Midoriya…” You’re quiet, and you look down as you begin to play with the hem of the shirt you’re wearing. “Listen… You’ve…” You let out a heavy sigh. “You’ve seen the article?” The line is quiet, and you're left standing on pins and needles waiting for him to respond.
“We saw it.” You nod; you knew that… God, what must he think of you? Why are you even worried about that? He cheated on you for fucks sake, you shouldn’t care what he thinks of you! Your hands are quaking all the same. “Is it true? That he went home with you?”
“Yeah, he crashed here tonight.” You clear your throat.
“And did you-“ He stops short, and sighs. You wait for him to finish his sentence, and you know exactly what he’s trying to ask. You clench your jaw and narrow your eyes.
“Did I what, Midoriya?” Your words are sharp and aggressive. He thinks you’d do that? After five years with you, Midoriya thinks that you’re that shallow…
“Did you, you know…” It’s like he doesn’t want to say it, so you say it for him with a raised voice.
“For fucks sake Midoriya grow up and just say what you’re thinking.” You snap. You didn’t know you had it in you to be so harsh to Midoriya, but your sharp tone continues on as you do, “Did I sleep with him? Is that what you want to know, Midoriya? Did I fuck Bakugo to get back at you?”
“Jesus Y/n I didn’t mean it like that!” His words are wet with emotions.
“Why would you even need to know? Hmm? What would it have to do with you?”
“It has to do with me because you’re my ex and he’s my best friend-“
“Let me be clear, Midoriya, you have no right to ever ask me that again.” Your words are stone cold. You can hear his heavy sigh over the phone.
“You’re right. I guess it doesn’t matter.” You cast a glance to Bakugo, and he’s simply staring at you with wide eyes, watching you like some tv show that has him on the edge of his seat. “What did you need, then?”
“The article… What are you and Uraraka going to do about it?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“You need to come forward Midoriya. Both you and Uraraka need to come clean with the press. It’s not right that Bakugo gets slandered like this.”
“I know. I just don’t know what to say so that it doesn’t reflect badly on us.” His voice is high pitched.
“You should’ve thought of that before you started fucking her.” Your words are dripping venom.
“We never had sex, Y/n.”
“Give it up. Bakugo told me everything.” He falls silent again.
“It would be best if we can meet somewhere so we can talk this out.”
“Why should Bakugo and I have to do that? This is your problem, so fix it.”
“Y/n, please! The publicity will be bad for Uraraka-“
“What about Bakugo? The world thinks that he’s going behind your back with me. They’re making him the bad guy. He doesn’t deserve this. Uraraka should’ve also thought of the repercussion before snaking into your pants.”
“Come on.” Bakugo hisses. You send him a sharp look.
“Can we all just meet so we can figure out the best way to handle this?” You burry your lips into your cheeks and look to Bakugo.
“He wants to meet… To talk about it.”
“Why the fuck should we have to do that?” You shrug at the blonde.
“Not sure. Guess he doesn’t want to admit he cheated.”
“Y/n…” Midoriya whines through the phone; he must be crying again.
“We’ll meet you for dinner tonight.” You promptly hang up the phone and let out a heavy breath.
“What the hell do you mean we will meet them for dinner?” Bakugo throws his hands out, “I’m not going!”
“Okay, whatever. Hide in the bathroom and cry about it, I have princess bandaids in the medicine cabinet if your ouchies get a little too painful.” You snap at him.
“It’s got nothing to do with that. I just don’t want to see either of their fucking faces right now.”
“And I do?” You snap back. “I’m just trying to get this over with.”
“Alright. Whatever.” Bakugo stands and collects his car keys. You almost ask him where he’s going but realize you don’t really need to know. It’s not like you’re dating or anything. “I’m gonna go get some clothes. I’ll be back in an hour.”
“’kay.” With the slamming of your front door, you lay down on the couch and close your eyes.
You wonder, as you drift off to sleep, if maybe you’ll die while you sleep. Then, you wouldn't have to suffer sitting across the table from them.
"I'm not accepting this." He shakes his head firmly. "And no, I'm not accepting you neither. "
Your nervous smile vanishes from your face as you straighten back up look up at him, arms still outstretched and holding out what practically is your heart on a platter.
You are stunned. Finding yourself swallowing hard and trying to keep eye contact with those sharp rubies of his. A weak, "Why?" passes your lips and his face morphs with disbelief. His answer broke your heart into half completely.
"Because I'm me. And you're.. well," he looked at you head to toe, then his cold gaze bore back to yours. "..you."
You stumble back as he shoves your letter and now ruined box of chocolates you handmade along with Sato's help. You bit back a sob as the realization sinks in.
Did you seriously think your confession would end up like those romantic comedy movies you've seen? That the handsome boy, who also happens to be one of the top students in the class would somehow end up liking stupid, pathetic, plain ol' you?
Maybe you got way ahead of yourself. Maybe you just gave meaning to his small acts of kindness that you thought he only showed to you.
Were those small smiles in between study sessions with him just an illusion of yours? Or those lingering touches when he helps you get up during training? Did you just imagine it when he held your cheek asking you repeatedly if you're alright after finding you having a hard time getting back to your feet? Were those moments when you're left alone just romanticization of what to Bakugo was just a plain 'hang out'?
Was it all just in your head? Did you make all of those up? This idea of him quite possibly caring for you too?
Oh.
Bakugo saw a switch turn off within you. He watches your shoulders sag, hands dropping your hard work, pieces of your heart really, falling and scattering all over the floor. The blonde's lips press into a thin line as he hears you murmur a defeated, "I understand."
But truly, you fucking don't.
Because as Bakugo lets you walk away, you took his broken heart with you. The same heart he guarded with snarky remarks and piercing glares. The same one that fell for everything that comprises you, your dumb flaws included. How in the hell he ends up adoring them too was beyond his comprehension.
The same stupid, fearful heart that made him think he could never deserve you. That you deserve someone kind and gentle and just, better.. Everything that isn't him.
Bakugo laughs to himself bitterly as you vanish at the end of hallway. Tears glistening and pricking at his eyes as he picks up your letter from the floor. Sight being impaired by more tears that come to rim his lower lids as he scans through your writing.
He crumples it. Then stuffed it in his jogging pants' pocket.
He went on to clean up the mess you left. Fingers trembling as he picks up one of the many soiled heart shaped chocolates. Eyeing it for a second before popping it in his mouth.
Silent tears glide down his cheeks at how perfect it tastes.
you’re nearly passed-out drunk on katsuki’s back when he brings you back to your dorm, incomprehensible mumbling and occasional twitches coming from you as you try to keep yourself awake. he manages to open the door with one arm still holding you up, the other switching the light on to reveal an empty room. your other roommates must still be out partying.
the dorm is cramped with bunk beds and desks, seemingly scattered at random but you manage to make it work. katsuki finds your bed, a bottom bunk, and slowly turns his back to let you fall onto it. he’s mindful enough to make sure you won’t hit your head, turning to take your shoes off before draping a blanket over your figure. you peek at him when you feel a hand come up to smooth back your hair, the action making you lean into the palm of his hand that comes to rest on your cheek. “get some sleep, okay? i’m gonna go.”
your intoxicated mind takes control of your body when you see him start to pull away and stand from the bed, your hand reaching out to grasp at the hem of his shirt. “nooo. mm mm.” katsuki wants to smile at your disapproval of his departure, adoration swirling in his chest when he feels you tug him back. “hmm, what’s wrong?”
“don’ wan you to go.” katsuki lets himself smile this time, sitting back on the edge of your bed with a hand coming to unhook yours from his shirt before entangling them together. “you don’t want me to go?” you shake your head, your lips turned down in a pout. there’s a small whispered ‘no’ before silence falls, you being distracted by his hand as you grasp it with both of yours. he watches you for minutes manipulating the position of his hand, the curve of his fingers, before bringing his palm back to cup your cheek. there’s a pause, something that you want to say but won’t come out until you sit up.
“katsuki.” you look up at him, hands still playing with his in your lap. he waits quietly, watching as you look down at your hands before looking back up. there’s another pause, your eyes looking just below his. you’ve stopped playing with his hand, instead opting to hold onto it as if you’d lose him at any moment. you lean closer, eyes flicking back to his before settling on his lips, going back and forth once more until you finally slot your lips against his in a long-awaited kiss. katsuki closes his eyes as you do, thinking about nothing and everything at once. your hands holding his, your lips against his, and the feeling of you that surrounds him.
he doesn’t move, doesn’t get to before you pull back enough to whisper against his lips. “i like you. a lot.” he opens his eyes to meet you, looking up at him with emotions that drown and suffocate him until he can no longer find himself denying it. “i like you too. a lot.” he smiles when you do, eyes shining in excitement as he accepts and returns your confession.
“really?” he nods. “really.” he presses a kiss to your forehead, a kiss that says he’s liked you—loved you—for a long time now, and lets it rest there before pulling away. “you should sleep. okay?” he looks at you, hands cradling your face before he presses another kiss to your forehead. “you can’t stay?” katsuki smiles and shakes his head. he really wants to. “can i see you tomorrow?” katsuki nods, helping you lay back down before tucking you in. “i’ll work hard, so there’ll never be a day where you don’t see me.” you seem happy to hear him say that, excited, and so is he.
“and we’ll live together?” he nods. “and i’ll buy you the biggest house with anything you want.” your hands go back to playing with his. “i want to help too.” katsuki hums for you to continue. “i wanna give you things too, and buy you a house too, with anything you want.” katsuki’s chuckle comes watery, a shaky sigh that breezes through him before he nods. “okay. you can help.”
Thinking about husband!Bakugou, who loves nothing more than having you in a mating press every single morning before he leaves for work.
Every inch of your skin is drenched in sweat by the time dawn seeps through the parted curtains of your bedroom window; the effort he puts into fucking you trickling down his temples and making the spikes of his ash blonde hair damp and droopy in that enticing way only he can pull off.
Nothing but quiet, sleepy gasps and hushed moans are exchanged between your panting mouths as he keeps kissing you. He's tracing his warm tongue across the roof of your mouth and over the flatness of your front teeth as he holds himself steady above you, broad, scar-riddled shoulders flexing before he dips in and sucks your tongue inside his mouth to make your saliva mix together.
He's slamming home every single time he pulls his hips back and rams them straight back into yours - movements now more animal than human after twenty minutes of raw screwing - and the friction gives him this wild look in his eye you only get to see when he's vulnerable like this. It's the one that makes the red in his already fierce irises even more vicious, and that tells you just how intensely he cares for you without ever uttering a word about it.
And it hurts when he gets it. All of it hurts, from how deeply he starts to crawl and sink himself inside you because of it, but you take it like a champ; you always do. Even if you cry and whine about it like a little cat in heat that needs to get taken care of. Even if you start to squirm underneath that massive, vigorous frame of his.
You're worried that he might be annoyed from how much you're moving around, trying to squeeze your legs back together and to push him out so that you can fucking breathe, but it's all for nothing.
After all, your softness doesn't bother your brute of a husband at all. He just licks your tears away, kisses your sticky cheeks that have a tang of salt to them from the tears you keep spilling that make the pillow underneath your head wet, before he bottoms out yet again and just holds himself there; making you endure his hard cock that is outright throbbing inside your belly now.
He's dazed because of your soft cunt; outright delirious as you start to tighten and gush all over him for the third time ever since his alarm clock woke you both up. He's never felt more like a man - chest puffing with twisted pride - as he watches you tip your head back into that goddamn pillow and just sob his name out with quivering lips again and again.
It's a struggle to go to work after all of that. Your pussy is so wet for him, he can hear it. The squelching noises are so obscene that they make his mind go fucking hazy with lust and adoration. You just can't stop sucking him in, despite crying about it.
So, you surely need more, right? Need him to go even deeper and fill you up, so that you're all warm and sticky with his cum. I mean, what kind of husband would he be if he didn't give the missus what she's silently begging him for?
"Shh, shh, shh, baby. Jus' one more and then we're done, yeah?"
Perhaps he'll take the day off today. Lie about that 'one more' and spoil you rotten, instead.
You know what I'm thinking of. Bakugou coming behind you while you're doing dishes. Your hands are all soapy and you're tired and he just covers your hands with his and grabs whatever dish is in your hands and just puts it in the sink. His chin is on your shoulder and he just takes your hands and removes them from the sink and just holds you while the water runs. The lights are low and the ac is humming and the water is running and he's just holding you, your back to his warm chest. Your hands are wet and would be growing cold but his hands are warm too, calloused and firm, thumb rubbing circles into the inside of your wrist, his breath in your ear.
"I got it," he says after a minute, but it's late, you're melting into one another in the low light of your apartment and you laugh, a small puffed thing that goes almost unheard under the sound of the rushing water.
"Yeah?"
He turns the water off, and outside somewhere a cricket starts, and he sways with you to the sound. "Yeah."
A/N | Okay so I was cleaning out my drafts and I had this in there? I don't know what the heck I was on but... I had a few points. This is completely unedited, just formatted and whatnot. Lots of curse words though.
Pairings | Bakugo/Todoroki/Midoriya x Reader
Masterlist
I asked myself, "What would a relationship with these three look like?" And this was my answer:
Dem boys as boyfriends
Bakugo
-fuckin nerd
Study dates ugh cute library dates he brought snacks in his bags but don’t make it a big deal or else
Love language is def acts of service
Biggest problem? Refuses to ask for help/open up. Good luck RIP
When he gets upset with you don’t expect him to tell you about it it’s the silent treatment for him.
Gets even more upset when you’re confused about it, eventually he comes to his senses tho you can’t read minds unless of course you can and that’s your quirk
Definitely acts like he doesn’t like PDA but don’t be a dumbass and stop holding his hand or else
When he wants to hold your hand he'll tap the back of your hand with his knuckle and look away; if you don't immediately place your hand in his he gets genuinely annoyed
Okay and if you ever fucked around you'd find out that when you absolutely refuse to give him your hand as a little prank he gets hurt and pouty. Seriously this makes him soooo blue, like puppy sad.
Actually a big ball of anxiety
He really doesn't know what the hell he's doing in a relationship and how he bagged you and how he's going to keep you;
No forreal if someone asked him "If you had to save them or the world what would it be?" he would answer "Y/n." Without hesitation. Slowly over your relationship he'd fall in love with you and he'd learn that having everything he wants doesn't matter if you aren't there with him; ugh he's sappy just for you (and you'll never know it)
Actually super supportive in his own way.
Type of guy to push you to your max, wants you to improve yourself, won’t help you at all unless you’re training; fuckin ruthless be ready my friend
Super bad at teaching you stuff tho, talks too much shit for you to be confident enough to make mistakes and learn from them
Randomly encouraging, always at the worst times too. I won't elaborate I just have a feeling in my soul he would definitely:
"Babe, you're so amazing. You did so great today and dinner was amazing-" etc etc and you'd be like
"Katsuki it's three in the morning? You woke me up with your mumbling wth do you want?"
"I don't know what you're talking about go back to sleep, baby."
If he ever says something sappy to you please record it with your phone or write it down instantly because it’s never fucking happening again sorry
Todoroki
S o f t
Seriously like being in a relationship with this dude would be relaxation station
Goes with the flow
Just happy to be around you even if you aren’t actively acknowledging each other
Favorite date: dinner
I feel like this mans loves food. Always down to try new foods, definitely orders too much food but neither of you have any regrets
Biggest issue? Communication and he can be such a brick wall sometimes. Like seriously shuts down at slightest confrontation. Never yells or raises his voice - unless he’s yelling about that bitch of a father - but just shuts down entirely and you can’t reach him
Seriously be gentle pls
Love language? Gifts and physical touch
Will absolutely support you and do everything he can to get you to your goal
Actually great at teaching you, short and blunt, easy to understand.
definitely the type of guy to buy you something in impulse and show up with like twenty new shirts and five new pairs of socks cause he thought of you when he saw them
Just wants to make you smile
And hug you... what better way to show love than physical touch???
Hate was physical to him, so he shows his love physically too. Very physical man, don’t tell me otherwise I won’t listen
At first he wasn't physical and at some point "he didn't think about it" turned into "all he wants to do is touch you"
Listen I know it's out of left field but -while he does love being big spoon and getting to nuzzle himself into the crevice of your neck and listen to your breaths - this man loves being little spoon
to just feel your arms holding onto him, holding him down, he feels so safe in your arms. make his chest warm.
Type of guy to randomly blurt out how beautiful you look. you could be sitting in sweats with a food stain on your shirt and crumbs on your chin and he'd still worship you
Midoriya
Error exe overloads whenever you do something cute
The epitome of shy, cinnamon roll, give him time to get comfortable pls
Love language? Words of affirmation
This boy will shower you in praise and compliments once he finally figures out how to fookin talk in front of you
Will absolutely sit down and binge avatar the last airbender with you idc who you are this boy is a fanboy and will read fanfiction
Likes working out with you. Wants you to join in on his morning runs, pls let him watch you work out he loves seeing the determination in your eyes and also dat ass
Biggest problem? Time and commitment. He’s going to be so dedicated to his goals that it’s gonna feel like he’s dating his job.
Patience and boundaries, my dear Yn.
Straight to tears in fights. Seriously he’s so sensitive and emotional it’s super cute sometimes but other times you just want him to address the problem with you
PDA is alright. I feel like with Izuku it's neither here or there. You could be hanging off him like a sloth and he'd be dead panned and talking with someone. Maybe he'll give you some affection pats here and there so you don't feel forgotten
You guys have "episode night" where you set time aside, get snacks, and watch a few episodes of a show you've been watching together. Honestly his favorite day of the week, his chest gets so bubbly when he thinks about it.
Likes to study with you - doesn't matter what you're learning - but if he sees you working on something he'll grab his own project and come flop down next to you. Occasionally you'd both talk about what you're doing or do some teasing; ya'll are just so cute im screaming
Has a lot of internal conflict over the whole time thing. Not having enough time in his day to spend with you also takes a huge toll on him; maybe more than it gets to you. He just gets so frustrated that he can't give you the most basic requirement for a healthy relationship:
It's a recurring theme to have Midoriya melting in front of you about "If you want to be with someone else because i'm never able to be with you i understand" He literally looks like he's stabbing himself in the leg with every word he says; you almost feel guilty when he does this
Coming home one day when Bakugou has the day off, leaving him very specific instructions on what to do during his time off. A list of chores to complete, things to fix in the house and of course, things to keep your little girl occupied while you're out, including the school work she needs to complete before Monday. Except you come home and you can hear giggling... and what sounds like sighing very loudly.
Venturing into the living room to see your daughter stood on a small stool, her dad sitting cross legged on the floor with an old towel wrapped around him. There's the faint sound of music on as she dances, her little hands moving over her dad's hair as she fixes another butterfly clip into his unruly blonde locks. Her eyes crinkling in glee as she claps and adds some glitter hair gel to the blonde pieces she has haphazardly plaited and pinned down. You're trying not to laugh, you really are, but your husband looks like something caught between a scarecrow and a balding Barbie doll. Your hands moving to snap a photo with your phone and send it to Kirishima when his eyes narrow, meeting yours as he tries to get up and stop you from doing so.
"Don't."
A pfft sound leaving your mouth as you try to cover it, body shaking in laughter as he glares up at you... the mood ruined completely when his eyes soften and he shakes his head at you trying to hide his smile. Having to apologise when his little angel reprimands him for moving while she's working, her masterpiece is close to being ruined and she is not happy. Her hands on her hips as she tells him off, you're laughing loudly now not even bothering to hide it anymore.
"Daddy! Stop moving. You'll ruin it."
"Sorry, angel."
A hmph noise when she moves his head back in place, his little tongue sticking out the side of her mouth as she make two pigtails in his hair using bright purple hair bobbles. Bakugou sitting there all quiet, his hands scrolling through his phone as he let's himself be moved left and right, head pulled back by his hair without even a grumble or wince. You can't help the way your heart clenches at the sight of them, his patience and love for her. The way he would give her the whole world if he could, protect her from everything and anything that could harm her even if it meant damning himself in the process.
Previous parts: Dating Deku | Break Up | Kisses | Rockabye Baby
A/n | It's me again after months of inactivity! How exciting! Here's this angst piece that's been eating me alive for months now :)
Pairing | Midoriya x Reader, Bakugo x Reader
Summary | In which Midoriya is the love of your life, but you're not his. In this, you navigate the stormy waters of heartbreak, and at the eye of the storm, you find Bakugo... But you know what they say: birds of a feather flock together.
Masterlist
|✨ Part 1 ✨| Part 2 | Part 3: In progress |
His car pulled in the apartments full parking lot ten minutes ago. He was officially off work at five. The streetlamps have already buzzed on, and you watch him from your second story apartment window with a dull eye and thin-lined mouth. Suns been long gone, and again, you didn’t bother with dinner tonight. A thoughtless, smile flashes onto your lips before the weight of them tears it right back off. You know better than to bother with things like that. At this point, you know much, much better.
You clench the curtain tighter as the door of your boyfriend's car is thrown open, and he steps out. He eyes the windows of your shared apartment, and the look on his face while he does it makes your stomach burn and twist. A heavy frown, flat brows, a distant, almost resentful look in his darkened green eyes. You drop the curtain and wrap your arms around your torso. You’re tired of that look.
God you’re so tired of that look. At dinner, during a movie, while you’re out at friends, while he’s simply taking a phone call from you; you can hear the tone he makes when he makes that stupid face. Once, you were enraptured with the idea of discovering every expression he could make with that face. That was… What? Five years ago? Four solid years before he made the expression that would beat you down into the sad person you are now. A sad human who stood by the window of their cold apartment, staring at the street – trembling – pleading for his car to finally pull in. The person who, when he finally did come home, felt so raw that they wanted him to turn right around.
Your confidence is shot. You pace the carpeted floor in front of the door. Your goals and dreams have been misaligned, and you’re left staring at a blur of what you want. You begin to bite your nail and send glances to the light coming in from the lit walkway. First you thought it was you. It was your fault that you were so tired when you came home from work, so you went to bed earlier, took sleeping supplements, and vitamins to help convert the food you ate into energy. He stayed later at work, so you spent more time working into your hobbies, keeping up with the house; you were home longer than him, so it was only right you had the apartment clean as a whistle and dinner on the table by the time he got home. He started to drift away around that time, and you panicked. He’d be too tired to talk after he got home, wanted some time alone, would rather be out with his friends; it was your fault. You did everything you could to earn his attentions again. For the better half of a year, you desperately clung to him.
Everything you've done, you've done for him. It shows. Because now, at the cusp of losing him, you know damn well you're going to lose everything you've worked for.
When was it? July? Well, somewhere around that time is when you first saw her name flash onto his phone screen; Uraraka. Just a friend. Like a sister. From there, it was all pointed fingers, short sentences, and rare smiles with him. You’ve tried. You’ve blamed it all on yourself.
The door handle jiggles with the sound of his keys unlocking it. It’s always been your fault so far. Light floods in as he quietly opens the door, and purposefully closes it as quietly as he can. You bite the inside of your cheek as he shuffles quietly, removing his shoes and shrugging off his jacket, without flicking on any lights. Bad idea though, cause -
He curses as he kicks the pile you’ve left by the door; he nearly falls. With a frustrated growl, he flicks on the entryway light and takes in the stack of suitcases and boxes.
“What the hell?” He sighs to himself, “What’s she doing now?” Your eyes bite with tears at the aggravation in his voice; how can he already be upset with you when you haven’t spoken a single word to him all day? It’s always been your fault, but when he finally meets your eye, only one thing echoes through your mind:
This is all his fault.
“Y/n!” Midoriya quietly calls. “What are you still doing up?” You swallow, trying to remember the things you’ve rehearsed all night long. You had a long monologue of heartrending lines and final words, but it's all just gone. His attention is redrawn to the things piled by the door, and he shoots his thumb over his shoulder toward them, “What’s up with the luggage?”
“It’s your things.” You curtly respond. His head falls and he returns his hand into the pockets of his jeans. He nods slowly.
“I… Guess I knew this was coming.” His voice is somehow even quieter than it was just a second ago. Almost a whisper, but in this silent apartment, you’re sure you’d be able to hear a ghost walking. “Y/n I –“
“Were you with Uraraka?” His big eyes fling up to yours, and it sends heat through your body to see the tears already collecting in his eyes. Why is he the one crying?
“Yes. I-“
“You’re cheating, then?”
“No, Y/n, I never… We never did that.” He closes the space between the two of you, reaching out to touch you, but you pull away, “We never did…” A loud breath spills from him, and his quavering voice finishes his sentence, “Anything.” You watch him; if he didn’t cheat, then what’s the problem? You could stay with him… But the feeling bunching in your stomach eats away at your mind; he’s not telling you everything.
“Tell me the truth, Midoriya.” Your tone is dry, flat. You’ve cried enough, so you steel your lip and eye to him. The young man sends you a defeated look as his shoulders slump and he brings his shaking fingers to rub his eyes.
“I wouldn’t cheat on you, Y/n. I couldn’t do that to you…”
“But you’re not telling me everything. I’ve been with you for five years, don’t think I don’t know what you look like when you’re hiding something.” You say. You’ve studied him closer than any other person in this world. No one knows this superhero better than you, and the way he can’t look you in the eye without dropping his head afterwards tells you everything you need to know.
“I…” A sob racks his body and you grind your teeth – why the fuck is he the one crying? “I love her.”
Oh.
“I didn’t want to…” Midoriya has dissolved into sobs before you. Sputtering and spitting excuses and justifications. “We just spent so much time together at work… An-“ His voice cuts out and he finally brings his eyes to you, “And before I knew it…”
“You’re making such a big deal over it…” You whisper. He loves her... So what? Your knees run numb and cold, and your hands and elbows soon follow. With tingling at the back of your head, you move to sit heavily on the couch. Midoriya stays rigid in his spot.
“I tried so hard to ignore it. But she just kept taking up more and more of my mind. I loved her again before I knew it. I don’t think I ever stopped loving her… Not since highschool.” He sniffles, “I never should’ve looked for her in you… I’m sorry.”
“Why the fuck did you stay with me then?” You snap with narrow eyes. You rarely let the feeling tightening your chest get the better of you, but this time, you don’t care to fight it. You want to hurt him. You want to watch him shrink the way he made you. Oh, if only you could inflict half of what he did to you…
“I couldn’t hurt you!” He cries. “You were so invested in the relationship I felt horrible-“
“You felt horrible? You didn’t want to hurt me? Midoriya fucking look at me! Do you think that you didn’t hurt me?” He grimaces at your words, face twisting into another sob; God you hate that he cries so easily.
“I.. I’m sorry, Y/n.” Is about all he can seem to blubber to you.
“What about Bakugou?”
“Uraraka is going to leave him.” The shame is heavy on his shoulders as Midoriya finally takes a seat farthest away from you.
“He’s your best friend, Midoriya!” You scoff. “Do you know what you’re doing? Did you think about any of us?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I… You know what?” You surrender your hands while standing quickly and taking up the keys he left on the coffee table. Removing the apartment key, you say, “I don’t think we have anything else to say to each other. Everything you own is in those boxes.” He stands and accepts his keys from you.
“Y/n-“
“Make sure to lock the door when you’re finished taking everything out.” You send him a firm, stone cold look before turning on your heel and marching toward the door at the end of the hallway.
“We can’t stay friends… Can we?” You stop in your tracks. Why would you ever do that? He has taken every piece of strength you had over the years, left you a shell of the person. It’s not like he did it on purpose, but the way he made you feel strangled the person you once were.
“No, Midoriya.” With that you quickly speed into the back bedroom and slam the door shut. You rest your back against the door for a second before you crawl into your bed; it’s so comfortable. You nuzzle into the blankets, wrapping them over every inch of your body, and listen to the shuffling of Midoriya removing his things. You watch the way the streetlamp illuminates the ceiling of your room without a thought in your mind. Until you flinch at the sounds of the entryway light being turned off, and the door locked.
He’s gone.
Your eyes flutter shut, the tears that you have been fighting to keep in the whole time finally start slipping over your cheeks.
…
It was a long time coming. You had months to prepare yourself for the end that you saw clear as day – you did prepare a little bit, evident of the dry cheeks you have at the bar you've found yourself skulking at five hours later – yet you still feel tense and trapped under the weight tearing a hole in your chest. That must mean that you love Midoriya a hell of a lot more than you thought; your head falls quickly.
This bar – grimy and dim, air polluted with rolling smoke from cigarettes and blunts, music quiet but voices loud – is the perfect retreat from the apartment you had shared with Midoriya these past years. The walls had closed in on you, so tight that you came to in a ball on your kitchen floor, sink still running, and moonlight dripping in through the curtains. None of the patrons bother you much; the thing these bearded and heavy-set men know best is the look of a person who just wants to stop existing for a little. They gave you forty-five minutes of complete ignorance before the bartender taps your glass with his finger.
“What’s next?” Your eyes dart up to look at him.
“Same thing.” He nods curtly.
“On the house.” A small smile flashes onto your lips for a mere second.
“Thanks.” You watch his skillful hands mix together a tall drink for you and accept it with a grateful bow to your head.
“I thought I’d find you here.” You freeze with the glass just touching your lips. You know that gravelly voice anywhere. That means that the man you almost dread to see more than Midoriya is sliding into the barstool next to you. Your neck pinches painfully as you resume the slumped position you’ve been stuck in all night.
“How are you, Bakugo?” You’re surprised to not hear him scoff. There’s no cuss words sloppily strung together and thrown at random. It’s complete silence next to you as he orders a whiskey – he never drinks when you’d all meet at the bar – and taps his fingers against the scratched up bar.
“Tonight was a little fuckin’ much.” He lowly says. He doesn’t need to elaborate. You know what he’s talking about. You probably understand him better than anyone else in this world.
“’m sorry.” Another beat of silence between you two.
“Thanks,” Bakugo takes a large swig of the drink the bartender just slid him, “I’m sorry too…” Bringing your eyes up to Bakugo’s face, your shocked to find his ruby eyes reddened, but as dry as yours are. Mouth in a heavy frown, brow furrowed, jacket hastily thrown on, and crimson eyes so distant you almost get sick looking into them. You might understand him best right now, but you think he must be much more crushed than you… Midoriya was his best friend, after all… And Uraraka was his fiancé. To lose both in one night…
Your eyes prickle with tears as you stare over at him. He flinches as he notices your gaze.
“How could they do this?” You slap your hand over your eyes, rubbing away the wetness and simply smearing it over your cheeks. How could they do this to Bakugo? To you? Bakugo takes his eyes from you and hisses in a breath between his teeth. He only takes another drink and weakly shrugs his shoulders.
“They ‘love’,” He spits the words out and makes quotations in the air, “each other.”
But Midoriya swore he loved you. You take in a sharp breath and grip your drink tightly. Helplessness begins to quake in your body; what can you do? You have no control over it… You can’t make him love you. Even if you fell to your knees and begged. Even if you dedicated every waking breath to him… He said he loves her now, and you can’t control that…
"Well, their definition of love is a little wonky if you ask me." You mumble to him. Midoriya said he loved you for five years, and Uraraka loved Bakugo when they first started dating back in high school. Is it really love if they can just throw it aside like that?
You down the rest of your drink – the cup still three-fourths full – and earn a few praises from college students down the bar. You ignore their hollering and clench your jaw to get the revolting taste lingering across your tongue out of your mouth.
“How do you fall in love with someone when you’re already ‘in love’,” You make your own exaggerated quotations, “with someone else?”
“Couldn’t say.” Bakugo finishes off his own drink and waves down the bartender, “You got a tab?” You nod despondently. “Keep ‘em coming.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
“If it was that easy for them to do it…” You mindlessly wonder to Bakugo, “Then it should be just as easy for us to.”
“You’re saying some exceptionally dumb shit already tonight. Are you drunk?” You don’t respond. Are you drunk? You feel… You’re not sure how you feel. “How many have you had?”
“Um… Two? Maybe three?”
“Ah, got a head start, hm?” He leans forward and catches your eye. “Don’t fool yourself, Y/n. You loved Deku earnestly. There’s no way you can just fall in love with someone else that easy.” He holds your searching gaze steadily. Hearing him say those words almost makes you want to crumble again. To hear someone else say that you truly love Midoriya, and knowing that you’ve lost him forever…
“What about you?” You whisper to him. Is he hurting as terribly as you? Does he love Uraraka as much as you love Midoriya? His jaw tightens and, accepting the drinks from the bartender and sliding yours into your hand, his head nods loosely.
“Yeah… If I could just fall in love with someone else that easily, I wouldn’t have wasted my time in the first place.” You knew that… You’re not even sure why you made him say it out loud. You turn back to face the bar and stare down into the murky liquid in your cup. Here you both are at the bar because you both can’t stand to be at the place you were building a life with those bastards at. He and Uraraka have a house together…
“You got a place to crash?” Bakugo smacks his lips and pulls his phone from his pocket. Checking the screen, the number of notifications is almost mortifying to you; and they just keep coming.
“I asked Kirishima, but he’s not got much room in his house.”
“Well, he does live with Denki and Mina.” In a two-bedroom house at that. People have to fight tooth and nail to get a damn place to sit at that place when they have little parties or gatherings.
“A couch is a couch, though. Better than sleeping in the car.” You watch him quietly. “But maybe if I crash in the car I can get some damn peace and quiet. With those three nutjobs in the same room I’d never hear the end of it.” Yeah. So soon after he found out ahout the situation himself; it’d be painful to have to listen to everyone else’s input on it. Somehow, you feel a slight sense of gratefulness that you still have the apartment to yourself.
“You can stay with me.” You blurt. You have an empty apartment now, and the room that was Midoriya’s office will be an empty shell soon enough. “If you want, that is.” You add as his silence drags out.
“Is it really okay if I crash on your couch tonight?” You worry your bottom lip between your teeth. Frankly, you were dreading having to go back to that dark, quiet, and empty apartment since you flopped into this stool. To face the reality of that silence, and accept that even though everything looks almost exactly the same, it’s all completely different now. You don’t want to face that alone. So when you nod, you wonder if you’re being a little bit selfish in inviting him to stay with you. Sure, you want to give Bakugo somewhere comfortable to rest his head tonight, but you’re well aware that, in the end, you’re doing this for yourself.
“Please do… I don’t think I want to be alone tonight.” You quietly say. Maybe if you admit your motivation, you won’t feel so silly. A chuckle falls from his dry throat, and he wets his throat.
"Even if it’s me there?” He teases. You send him a sharp and hardened glare. Your friendship with Bakugo was strained in the beginning – that’s putting it lightly – but you’ve both warmed up to each other over the years.
“I think you’re the only person I would invite right now.” Bakugo’s smile faulters as he gazes at you before a grin stretches onto his lips.
“We bonding over mutual heartbreak right now?”
“Yeah. Just wait until heartbreak becomes revenge.”
“Revenge?” The word almost looks like it sends a shiver down Bakugo’s back the way his eyes glaze over with a warm sparkle. That, or the alcohols touching him already. You haven’t been keeping track of the shots and drinks he’s put down, but the bartender sure listened when he was told to keep the drinks coming. “Sure sounds nice… But we’re not kids. What’ll you do? Send ‘em a cake that says ‘Fuck you’?” You giggle, and he does too. “That does sound like something you’re capable of.”
“I might not have very evil ideas, but I have you for that… The enemy of my enemy is my friend, and seeking revenge is better done in pairs.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” He mumbles over his drink.
“Anyways… No one knows what you’re going through better than me… ‘N I don’t think anyone can know just how awful I feel,” Your head has fallen, “’cept you.” He watches you before his hand pats heavily down onto your shoulder.
“You really are drunk aren’t you? You’re getting sappy.”
“Wanna start talking revenge instead, then?” He pushes a shot – you have no idea what the liquid is sloshing around in it – to you with a grin breaking onto his lips.
“Preferably. You know I like my drunks prickly and not gooey.”
“Step one of revenge: We have to get drunk as hell tonight, forget that we ever cared.”
“Well check that one off your list.”
“What ‘bout you?”
“Give me a few more shots and I think I could show you how to do the moonwalk.”
“You can do the moonwalk?”
“No, but I’m sure I could.” A laugh bubbles past your lips.
“Let’s get you a few more drinks, then!” You order another whiskey for him and a fruity drink for yourself… Really, you know you should stop, but you’re hoping that a little more of this and Bakugo’s low, quiet laughter, and you might feel a little lighter.
“What’s step two?” He drags you back to the topic at hand.
“Step two?” You hum as you consider and cross your arms over your chest. “Step two: We wake up tomorrow and eat our favorite breakfast. That’ll lead right to step three-“
“-Baking?”
“Being happy.” He watches you with a quirked eyebrow. “Our stomachs will be full, and we’ll have our dear friend with us-“
“Who said you were my dear friend?” He barks.
“Shut up.” You don’t miss a beat in continuing on your evil plot, “We won’t be alone like they made us. Step five-“
“Step four.” He corrects.
“Fine, four, whatever. Step four: we get the cake.”
“You are so evil. Who raised you?” Bakugo teases you yet again with a small smile sticking on his lips. The weight of tonight still deepens his red eyes, you can see it the way his are lidded, but the smile is still genuine. Your chest lightens a litte as you grin back at him.
“Step five: after taking our anger out through the cake, we’re free from it all! We are happy, and okay without them.”
“I’m astonished.” He watches you. “You plan to take revenge by showing Midoriya that you don’t need him?” Your mouth drills shut. Watching Bakugo, you try and tame the wavering of your lips and blink away the tears blurring your sight; that’s your plan. That’s all you can do.
“Well, do you have any better ideas, hotshot?” You snap at the man grumbling at your side. What else can you do?
“Get with someone else.” You gawk at him. That’s his grand idea of revenge?
“Bakugo, that’s basically the same thing as what I said.”
“No, it’s not. You’ve got a whole five step plan. Mine is just one. Get with someone else.”
“You said that you and I can’t do that.” You quietly counter.
“I said we couldn’t just turn around and fall in love with someone else… But getting with someone and falling in love are completely different things.”
“What about the other person?” You wonder to him.
“What about ‘em?”
“You’ll just be doing what Uraraka did to you, to them.” His lips pull into a thin line. He’d just be using them, wasting their time; that’s not something Bakugo could do. He’s an asshole, just not that kind of asshole. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and find someone who’s willing to help you take revenge.”
“You did say revenge takes two.” You smile and nod mindlessly before your body goes rigid. You could help him take revenge! You just so happen to be trying to get revenge too!
“Bakugo!” You gasp. He jumps, eye widening and staring at you. You press your hand to your chest. “I could help you!”
“How?”
“You could get with me!” He blinks at you. A laugh pushes from him before the smile falls.
“You’re drunk… Maybe we should turn in for the night?” He waves the bartender down.
“I can help! You won’t be wasting my time because I’m not looking for a relationship, but we can both still get our revenge.”
“Revenge isn’t what we need.” He stands, waving down the bartender and getting out his wallet.
"Who else is better to help you than me? I'm your friend," You begin to count reasons on your fingers, "I know what you're going through, I have no expectations, and we want payback on the same people."
"Really, Y/n... I don't need payback. Sure, sounds nice to see it all flung back in their face but..." He trails off, his eye becoming distant again.
“You’re the one who wanted to talk about it.” You pout as you lean back and turn your attention away.
“I was just kidding. There’s no way I’m going to do something so childish as ‘get revenge’. There’s nothing to avenge.” He pays the tab and gently pulls your chair out. He cages you between the barstool and bar with his arms and levels his eyes to yours. “Relationships end like this all the time. There’s no rule saying they can’t fall in love with someone else…” He clenches his jaw and pulls back, looking away. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he adds in a rough tone, “We just have to accept it.”
Your chest twists again.
There’s no one to blame? This just happened to you? Things like this – being shattered into pieces – happens all the time, for no reason. The thought that there’s no one to blame for how horrid you feel, no one for you to blame for taking everything away; it just happened, and you’re powerless against it?
Before you can think better of it, your body is quaking, lips trembling, and tears spilling over your cheeks. You stare up to Bakugo obstinately.
“I don’t want to accept it.” You breathe. You just have to accept that you lost everything in one night? That it just so happened to happen? That there was nothing that could’ve been said or done differently to spare you the pain? That everything is exactly as it should be?
“Fuck, Y/n.” His shoulders slump slightly as he looks around to hand out dangerous looks to the onlooking bar patrons. He closes in on you, and you stiffen when you feel his strong arms take you into them. “Don’t cry.” His own voice is hoarse.
“I don’t want to accept it.” You repeat.
“I know…” You can feel Bakugo nod from where he rests his chin on your head. “But, let’s head back to the apartment for now and get some rest. We can plot the rest of our revenge over step two in the morning.” You nod; the more you think about being out of the dense crowd and in the quiet comfort of your apartment, the deeper your desire to leave embeds itself into your limbs.
Bakugo and you stumble from the bar together and to his car.
“We can send them their least favorite foods.” You mindlessly blurt as you stare blankly our the passenger window. Bakugo chuckles dryly.
“Not a bad idea.” You’ve got no control over the words spilling out of your mouth, and your head is spinning too much for you to think twice about them.
“If you ever need someone to get with for revenge, come to me first.” Your head lolls to try and find his dark figure. “I will help you.”
“Thanks, but like I said; let’s plot revenge tomorrow.”
“I know you said that but you have to promise me Bakugo.” His lips pull into a thin line, and his hands tighten on his steering wheel. He’s quiet as his jaw clenches and unclenches. “Bakugo, promise me.”
You heard your boyfriend—loud and clear, but still, you questioningly hummed as you folded your clothes on the bed. You were stacking them up neatly when you glanced at him as he sat on a chair in the corner of the room. He’s looking directly at you with a soft yet serious expression. You raised your brows at him nonchalantly, urging him to reiterate his proposal.
The wind blew past the curtains and inside your bedroom, sending chills down your spine and causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. You stood up to close the balcony door, telling yourself that the cold feeling on the tips of your fingers was caused by the breeze and not by the words that escaped Satoru’s lips.
“Maybe we should see other people. You know, like take a break from each other and see how it goes.” He leaned on his elbows, his eyebrows slightly pulling closer together as he cracked his fingers anxiously. His eyes traced your silhouette as you stood in front of the window; the sun was close to setting, slowly disappearing on the horizon.
please don’t repost, edit, translate, use, or copy my works on any platforms (if you’d really like to please reach out – reblogs are welcome)
“I want my life back.”
“What?” Gojo turned around, finally, sneering. It made you feel cold.
✧
You had gone to pick Gojo up. On the exceptionally rare occasion, he had gone drinking. When you stepped in the dimly-lit, slightly musty room, he was bantering (flirtatiously?) with some girl in a neon pink two-piece at the bar. She was pretty.
He tried to shrug your arm off. And when you reached for him again, he slapped your hand away. Was he that drunk? You smiled awkwardly, apologetically at his company, as if it didn’t tear a hole in your chest.
You strapped him in the passenger seat, stroking away the sweat-soaked hair that clung to his face.
He flinched at your touch.
✧
Indignant tears glided down his cheeks as you drove. They shone in your peripheral vision. His sunglasses were slipping, they shined, too. You pursed your lips and ignored it, as if the scene didn’t make your own tears well.
“We’re home,” you said when the garage door clicked and the car slid comfortably into place.
He grunted.
You had to carry him inside.
✧
Gojo struggled so much, arms flailing about like a whining toddler. You couldn’t handle his weight past the living room, so you just let him flop onto the couch.
His tear-stained cheeks glistened in the lamplight as he glared. He glared at you with so much contempt you wondered what role you really held in his heart.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” It didn’t come across as accusatory as you expected. You said it so softly, so timidly it made you feel pathetic.
He sneered. Drunkenly. He looked in pain. What did that make you?
“Why are you like this now?” Your voice trembled; your lip quivered. Keep it together, you scolded yourself.
“I…” His voice faded out. He was so quiet, so close to sleep, you had to step closer. His eyebrows instinctively furrowed when you did. Was it your scent he didn’t like? But he was the one that reeked of alcohol.
“I’m so unhappy,” he whispered. It broke you.
“It’s all… you are… just… so boring.” He had enough energy to stress the last word, as if it hadn’t already shattered every previously fractured piece of you.
He didn’t say much else, only turned on his side and fell asleep, even snoring slightly. He didn’t list out the reasons why, didn’t name every little thing that seemingly tortured him in your five years of marriage. You were sure this was worse. It was all so cruel.
Namie slept soundly in her room upstairs. The thought made your heart twist. You sighed as you laid a blanket over him. Then, watching him snore gently, you ran a hand over your face and smiled, as if you couldn’t feel your throat clenching and eyes watering from the pain of it all. Every family, every marriage goes through this.
Doesn’t it?
✧
You were sitting at the dinner table when he got up the next morning, with nothing in front of you. Gojo didn’t find it strange. Or he just didn’t see. Probably the latter.
Namie had already gone to school, eyeing him with concern, pulling on your dress to ask “What’s wrong with daddy?”, dawdling in the living room until finally reluctantly turning away after you reassured her, very surely, for the seventh time that he was alright.
He had swung open the fridge door, reaching for the milk, so nonchalantly. Had he really been that drunk? Or did he just not realize, not care enough about the pain his words caused you?
He was at the counter now, pouring the milk clumsily into one of the mugs—that you washed, you might add. You stood up, walking over to the pantry for a hangover cure packet. You set it down by him and he smiled. It wasn’t particularly different from any smile he’d given to you in the past five months, so maybe it had been halfhearted this whole time. Maybe you were a fool for letting smiles this forced make your stomach flutter.
If he noticed something was off, he didn’t say anything. That almost stung more than his words. You went upstairs before he finished breakfast. You didn’t come down when he left. If he thought that was strange, he didn’t mention it.
✧
Truly, you wouldn’t have left at that. Not over a drunken confession, albeit of utter discontentment. Not over the lack of concern at your (obvious) hurt. You could have handled it. You were ready to handle it.
But then he did something you couldn’t ever forgive.
He had been drinking with Geto. Just a can of beer. Why did he do it? He didn’t like alcohol. Either way, you went to pick him up. You didn’t bother letting him know, Geto’s apartment was so close by.
“Why are you so miserable all the time, Satoru?” Geto asked, probably jokingly. “With Y/N and Namie, you’ve got it made.”
Gojo snorted. “Marriage really isn’t all that.”
A pause. Geto didn’t respond. He must have felt awkward. Probably confused. But Gojo didn’t need any prompting.
“I’m really wasting my life. I’m always worried on missions, and now this is always being used against me, you know they gave up being a sorcerer.”
“It was for Namie though, right?” Geto tried to defend you. Uncomfortably. This was all so very awkward. More so if they’d known you had showed up at the door then, and caught the tail end of this tragedy.
“Sure, but did I ask for that?”
You felt like you were stabbed. But the blood trickling out from the wound was icy.
Geto didn’t say anything this time. Probably sitting in nervous silence.
“Look, all I’m saying is, Y/N and I were friends in Jujutsu High. Maybe we should have stayed at that.”
Something in you died. You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to stop the cry from coming out. Tears streamed down your cheeks in globs.
Somewhere along the line, the word “bored” came up again. Or maybe it was “boring”? You were too shattered to care.
The subject changed then, and the conversation skipped along, so easily, so carelessly.
You crouched down and sobbed.
Because you couldn’t spend your life with this man anymore. This cruel, heartless man chatting and laughing right in front of you, without a care as to what you’d given up for him, what he was doing to you.
You were going to leave. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But at that, he lost you.
✧
You still picked him up that night. It was what you came to do, after all.
You held out another two months. But everything about him made you angry, aggrieved, indignant, devastated. Thousands of reactions provoked and not a single one positive. It really was a lost cause.
Maybe somewhere, among the ruins, you had wished it wasn’t.
✧
“I want my life back.” You said.
And Gojo, not having paid any attention to your words before, turned around, sneering. He sneered comfortably now, without any influence of alcohol. “What?”
You set down the papers. Neatly, too. He picked them up roughly, crumpling the pristine stack. Scanning through the contents, he was frowning now, eyes wide—in alarm or disbelief?
“What is this?” He asked, almost vehemently.
“What do you mean what is this?” You spat back, voice sharp. You hadn’t expected, hadn’t want to take that tone. You tried to soften the delivery. “I want a divorce.”
“Where is this coming from?” Gojo asked, hand yanking on his hair, clearly panicked.
Before you could think, you laughed. Probably out of shock. He really didn’t care enough to see what he had done to you.
He frowned more deeply. Was he upset? Overwhelmed by the unfairness of it all? That should be you.
“If you really don’t know, I’m not going to sit here recounting every bad thing you’ve done since we got married. It’s probably best that you don’t know the details anyway. It would bore you.”
He wouldn’t understand, of course. And when he looked at you in clear confusion, clear exasperation, you almost smiled.
Bakugou comes up with the weirdest fucking nicknames. Like that time when you tripped on the stairs of an aquarium and now he calls you fish feet. Or how he started call you his 'croissant' after a date to a cafe?
Not only does he adore to give you new nicknames with each passing memorable moment, he loves it when you give him some as well. Lie,
"Dirty q-tip" or 'hay bale' but he mush prefers to call you "princess" when the both of you are alone. And of course you settle with
"babe" or "love" and he absolutely adores it.
Characters: Muriel from the Arcana & Female Reader
Contains: fingering (F. receiving), against the wall sex, mutual orgasm, dirty talk? slightly jealous soft dom Muriel.
A/N: I've had this thought in my head for awhile now! im glad that I could finally write it out.....
Stepping through the threshold of the hut, hearing the door close on the orange evening sun outside, muriel had not said a word the entire way back from the shop. which was not something unusual but you could feel that there was something on his mind.
“muriel is everything okay?” You say as you hang up your coat and bag. The dark haired man looks at you for a second but his eyes dart away. Puzzled you try again, you put a hand on his arm rubbing it gently as you face him head tilting slightly trying to give him a light smile. “I know something has been bugging you ever since we left the shop. You wanna tell me?” You Can see behind those eyes that he was still thinking but saw a flicker of something else within them.
You sigh knowing that sometimes it takes a bit for muriel to open up. “Okay, it’s okay you don-“
“Who was that person in the shop when I came in?” His deep voice finally makes an appearance in your shared space.
At first you were relived that he had finally spoken to you but then your mind caught up to his words making you confused. “W-what do you mean? Who?”Your hand drops from his arm. His gaze looks to the side “The person at the counter before you closed shop” you furrow your eyebrows together thinking about who was at your shop that could cause Muriel to brood all the way home like this. but your mind came back empty only remembering a usual costumer you were helping.
“Muriel, they were just a shop customer. I don’t understand why you are upset.” Muriel sighs “I’m not-“ he turns towards you his eyes roaming your face. You give him a raised eyebrow not believing him. Having him being upset was a rare occurrence, when it did happen it was usually something reasonable that you both talked about and agree on what to do next. But this? This was new and you couldn’t figure out where it came from. untill he asked mumbling “do they usually go into the shop?”
Your a bit taken back at his question but as you look at his face you suddenly know what was going on and you couldn’t quite believe it. seeing this was the first he outwardly demonstrated that he was
“Muriel, are you jealous?”
You say trying to not let your lips turn up in a smile. You see that a blush appears on his face but his eyes, his forest green eyes look at you in a way that makes your own cheeks heat up. A familiar warmth courses through your body as you tilt your head and gave him a sly smile as a wave confidence comes over you. “I- Im not jealous. I don’t get like that” he mutters out.
Your hands go to his sides moving them up and down slowly feeling him tense for a second. “You sure? You’ve never asked me about a costumer that way before.” Your voice coming out slowly. Dragging a finger to his strong Abdomen moving your fingers mindlessly against his skin as you continue speaking to him softly.
“Asking me if they come to the shop often. Muriel you know the shop has a good amount of customers and” your innocent eyes meet his “I have to treat them all nicely” you raise your feet a bit to be able to kiss him on the shoulder, placing another hand on his cheek directing him towards you. “There’s nothing to be jealous of.” His lips inches apart from yours “I’m yours arnt I?” you breath out before your lips meet his.
You swear you hear him growl when you kiss him sending a delighted shiver go through you as you kiss him again and again. Each kiss becoming more passionate and harder than the last, your hands going into his dark hair and his hands to your hips. a moan escapes pass your lips as you feel your back press against the wall. The harshness of the stone softened by the thick tapestry hanged up behind you.
“How can I not be jealous when they looked at what is mine the way they did” Muriel’s deep voice comes next to your ear making you shudder at his words. Your eyes widen at the possessiveness and dominance he’s demonstrating making your legs weak, A slow pulse felt between your legs as your arousal makes itself known.
his hands come up from your hips grabbing the hem of your shirt lifting it up his fingers gliding over your hot skin but still shivering at his touch.
“Like you said y/n” he takes off your shirt his dark lustful gaze falling on you again making your breath hitch “you’re mine.” You see a blush starting to make its way into his cheeks as he takes in your state before him. His hand caresses your cheek in the gentlest manner as in asking for your permission to continue. Your heart squeezes at how much he cares for you wanting to know first if you were okay.
You lean your head against his palm while looking up at him. “Tell me what’s yours” your hand reaches out to his waist pulling him closer “show me.” Seeing your green light for him Muriel smirks.
He firmly kisses you, tongues meeting each other as you hum against him. His hands go on either side of your head trapping you against the wall and his muscular body “mine.” His voice rumbles against your lips. Your hands freely roaming touching anywhere you could, your desire for him increasing by the second. “your lips are mine” he kisses them again. when he parts away you are left gasping as you see his eyes lower. “your neck” he dips down placing a hot kiss to your skin and moving up, his scruff adding to the sensation. he sucks on your sweet spot having you let out a small moan feeling muriel smile as he licks and kisses.
His right hand moves away from the wall and removes your bra. You suck in a breath at the air on your exposed chest. Then a whimper when Muriel’s large rough hand grabs it. He cups It having his thumb rub the nipple. You moan at the feeling, “your breasts” he breaths against you kissing where he Can on your neck and jaw while his hand messages you. Your head falls back allowing him to kiss more, grab more as your back pushes your hardened nipples into his hands. Kneading them and pinching them.
The throbbing between your legs increasing with every kiss, rub and words against you it was becoming unbearable, aching for him to touch you. “Muriel” you moan, Your hand goes down his stomach but before you can reach his pants Muriel’s left hand grabs your wrist and the other one at his chest pinning your arms above your head.
“I still haven't finished” he mumbles against your neck. He parts away to look down at you as you feel the hand that was kneading your breast go down the valley between them. knuckles slowly going down your stomach raising goosebumps. “Your beautiful body” he continues.
You can’t help but moan as he reaches the waistband of your clothes, pushing them down leaving you in just your undergarments underneath him. You hear him curse at the sight of you, already breathless and shaking without being touched.
Suddenly Muriel’s hand cups your heat over the covering making you let out a gasp and a moan at finally having some contact. he groans feeling how soaked the fabric is. “Its mine. You chose me to be able to make you mine, to kiss, touch you like this” he rubs you through your panties as you hum the action not enough hips moving against him.
“They wanted you I could tell” his hand swiftly pushes down your panties falling down your legs. The air again making you ache, his hand stalls for a moment again as he takes in a breath before a finger passes your folds and goes down your slit, making you moan as he groans “shit” at how wetness you coats his finger, seeing his face redden.
He swallows before repeating the motion again watching your body react to him. “I bet they were thinking of doing this too you” his voice takes an edge, his eyebrows furrowing. His finger goes to your clit and begins to rub it slowly having you moan. “I saw it in there damn eyes.” His eyes look down to his hand and sees your hips moving against him making him moan at the sight as he speeds up.
He looks back at you and it takes all his self control not to take off his pants and have you against the wall right then and there. eyes closed, lips parted, head back as you arched into him having your hands pinned above you. Even Muriel didn’t fully understood what came over him, how he got the confidence to do this and say those things to you but he was to far ahead to go back now and he didn’t want to go back. he wanted to make you feel good, of course he still had the bit of consistent doubt that this wasn’t what you wanted but by the fates and gods, with moans you were letting out and how you were reacting under him he knew you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.
“More….Muriel please” you pant as you continue to rub your soft clit against his rough finger pads. “Whose the one that Can touch you like This?” He states kissing you again, you moan as a response but he dosnt except that as an answer. although he relishes in the sound going straight through to his hard cock which you feel against you as he puts a knee on your leg spreading you more.
Muriel slows the pace of his fingers triggering a whine from you opening your eyes. “Answer?” He asks eyes filled with lust and dominance no where to be seen that usual shyness and hesitance he usually had when he touched you. and honestly you couldn’t express how much it turned you on to see it especially be expressed towards you.
Kissing him with pure want you answer him. “You Muriel” he hums against you at the sound of his name. He speeds up pressing another finger, adding to the feeling building up in your stomach. “Mmm yes” you moan closing your eyes again. Muriel kisses your shoulder and jaw “whose the one allowed to fuck you?” His words muddle your brain taking away your breath for a second, loving the way he’s taking control of you by his words and fingers.
Not wanting him to slow down again you answer breathlessly. “You are, you’re the one who can fuck me…please” hips jutting out again. the smile against your skin is the only warning he gave as Muriel slides two thick fingers into you pumping gradually to a speed that makes your Moans leak through the stone wall as your own walls stretch.
“Oh fuck” you pant, your pinned arms push against his grasp but his hands reaffirm his grip on you as his fingers keep moving in and out of you completely to his mercy, letting him witness and accesses to every inch of you like a painting. Nothing was hidden from him you were his to admire.
Your climax not far away as you hear Muriel moan at your reactions and the feel of you. already imagining his dick inside you, the one he tries to not to rub against your hip desperately. Muriel kisses you anywhere he can as his hand curves up making his large palm slap your heat and hit your clit each time he inserts his fingers.
“Ah! M- muriel im- I’m ugh” you moan, words failing you. Your walls clenching around his fingers and hips fucking his palm. Muriel cruses again at the sight, dick involuntarily thrusting against you. “You’re close baby arnt you?” You node your head and let out a small whine.
“tell me whose allowed to make you come? Whose gonna make you come right now?” His fingers not stoping instead curling up pressing lightly against the soft spot that sends a jolt of pleasure through you. Not a moment after he asked the word falls from your lips “you! Oh please, please muriel”he curls his fingers again touching that sweet spot. “Say it again” He growls making you moan. “You’re the one that’s gonna make me come so hard!”
he groans, placing his thumb on your sensitive clit rubbing it in small quick circles, with a last brush of his fingers inside you, you let your climax take you. Arching your back of the wall hands still pinned over your head allowing Muriel a perfect seat to completely see you come undone over his fingers.
“That’s it y/n, feel all of it” Muriel slows his fingers down helping you ride out your orgasm as you try to bring back air to your lungs. He lets go of your arms having them drop at your side as you try to get your heart rate back to normal. Whispering his name is all you can manage before he kisses you softly pulling his fingers out of you. You moan at the motion feeling the emptiness replace them in your throbbing heat.
Muriel kisses your head gently after he knew you had gotten your composure back. A hand going up and down your arm reassuringly. “W-was that okay? Are you okay?” And just like that the large dark haired man before you is back to his kind caring self. You give him a small chuckle with a easy smile as you look up at him. “You did amazing. I love it when you use your fingers to make me come.” you can see a slight blush come to his cheeks as he hums at your words knowing that he loved it when you gave him praise, making him know again that he’s the one that can make you come with just his fingers.
Muriel’s hand that was on your arm continues his way down to your side keeping you close causing you to become aware of him against your hip, prominent as ever. you make your own hand movements down his muscular tan stomach, need flourishing again inside you. “However it seems that you need a little help with something hm? if I remember correctly”
your fingers go down his happy trail to the waistband of his pants. Hearing his breathing become uneven as you continue to look at his face while his eyes lock onto your hand. “You asked who’s allowed to fuck me” your hands slowly unbuckle his belt. “And who did I say was allowed too?” Your voice coming out in a sultry whisper as you remove his belt around him tossing it to the side. seeing his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as you unbuckle his pants, hands going on either hip rubbing your thumbs against his skin in a comforting manner. “Me” you hear him whisper out.
You smile “I’m sorry baby I couldn’t hear you” you push down his pants hearing fabric land on the floor, leaving him in only his underwear resuming the circular motions. You hear him take in a sharp breath and you smile to your self. arousal throbbing as you catch the change in his energy. “Me” he states both hands grabbing your hips.
Fingers hooking into his underwear you pull them down finally freeing his large cock that has your mouth watering and heat glistening at the sight of it, the air making it slightly twitch. The pink head already dripping Precum you can’t hold back the moan that escapes you and you swear you could’ve heard him chuckle above you. Looking up you see that his green eyes had once again gain that gaze that made your knees weak. Your hands go up his body feeling his hot skin. “And whose gonna fuck me right now?” You say trying to keep your voice calm.
“I am” Muriel says definitely his lips capture yours as if he couldn’t hold back any longer. Kissing you as if he yearned for your touch against his. Muriel’s hands left your hips and went over your ass going to your thighs lifting you up. Your legs wrapping around his waist arms around his neck. letting out a loud moan when you feel your back hit the wall.
Muriel lets out a sigh at the feeling of his cock against your slit. The throbbing between you unbearable, you roll your hips gaining a moan from him which makes your insides clench.
“You’re so beautiful” he kisses your neck giving him a hum in response his eyes finding yours and finding yourself lost in them that you don’t see his left hand grab his cock. “Always so good to me” he runs his head against you making him catch his breath. He aligns his head to your entrance “and all mine” with that he inches his way inside with breathless moans. his large cock stretching you out in the most pleasurable way. Once he goes all the way to the hilt he swallows your moan as he kisses you, placing his hand on the wall steading himself as his body shivers from the feeling and tightness of you, making you become once again surrounded by him in every sense of the word.
Muriel kisses you giving you time to adjust to his thick length, filling you up completely. “So warm and tight like always…fuck” he whispers. When he starts to move against you a series of whimpers and moans follow as your mind becomes blurry the feelings of pleasure and him filling up your senses leaving you speechless. His thrusts are slow and gentle building you up knowing that you were probably sensitive from his fingers. which you were, but you are so needy for him it didn’t matter, rather it added to your pleasure knowing that he had already made you come with his rough fingers.
Your own fingertips go over the ridges of his back and shoulders as you moan. “You feel so good muriel” you hear his small grunts knowing that he was holding himself back not wanting to hurt you. Your fingers go into his hair pulling lightly so that his hooded eyes refocus on you, blush on his cheeks. “Faster baby please” you kiss him as you whisper “I’m yours”
Something snapped in him at your words. growling, he pulls his cock halfway out and thrusts back into you. A Yelp escaping you at the motion then turning into whimpers and yes’s as Muriel finds a blissful rhythm for you both. pushing you against the wall hearing Muriel’s wonderful grunts and moans reach your ears as you let him take control of you again.
Muriel clenches the tapestry in his hand as he pumps in and out of you losing himself in your scent, your warmth and tightness. He can’t get enough of you, hearing your moans, knowing that he was the cause of them and no one else, adds to him reaching his high. He was always grateful to have you in his life, fearing that you might walk away still haunts him. But every time he sees that smile, hears that laugh and feels those moans against his skin he knows that he is yours and will be yours as long as you’ll have him and you will be his.
“Muriel” you moan as his hips keep thrusting. You clench around him feeling him twitch inside you as he curses at the feeling. Your hands roam his back giving you a image of his back muscles moving under his skin as he pounded into you making you clench again. “Y-y/n I’m close“ Muriel pants as you feel his hips jerk up contradicting the rhythm. “Me too baby, you’re doing so good” you kiss his neck “you’re gonna make me come, please make me come” you whimper out.
His thrusts slow down with a groan from him. The hand that was on the wall beside your head lowers and both of his hands secure your thighs and shifts you slightly. He begins to thrust again harder and faster that you can’t help the loud moan that fills the hut as Muriel’s cock hits the soft spot inside you that his fingers grazed earlier perfectly with each thrust.
You look down and see Muriel’s handsome face covered with a thin layer of sweat his hair sticking to parts of his face and the expression of ecstasy he displayed, eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed and mouth parted. That and his thrusts were enough to send your over the edge. “Oh Imma come! Imma!-” Muriel continues his thrusts although you can feel them getting sloppy and harder. “come for me y/n,” your walls close around him as you moan his name as you come undone. Muriel gives a few more thrusts and grunts as you feel him twitch inside you before he fills you up with his climax with a Loud moan.
Muriel puts a hand against the wall and rests his head on your shoulder to steady himself. messily thrusting into you helping you both ride out your orgasms. Trying to regain composure your breaths hitting each other’s skin, you peck his shoulder, rubbing his arm reassuringly.
“I’m yours Muriel” you breath out
You feel him smile against you and you can already tell his cheeks were pink.
