ⅰ. i write for mha, haikyuu, aot, demon slayer, etc. if you have another anime to request, i will try to be flexible (assuming i've watched it.)
ⅱ. i write headcanons and drabbles. longer fics are very rare from me.
ⅲ. keep in mind that i am, in fact, a minor. therefore, i will not write anything sexual.
ⅳ. for the most part, i write in a 'character x gender neutral reader' format, but i will write a gender-specific reader if requested. i will also write for ships—depending on the ship, of course.
ⅴ. all characters are aged up unless stated otherwise.
ⅵ. i'm a student—please be patient with me. i don't wish for writing to become an obligation
Annnnnnnnd another oldie! I tried something different with this one, and I really liked it and enjoyed the process, so I've come to appreciate this Kacchan as the one where I finally realised what I wanted from my art.
How would Mha characters react when they find out your injured? (Requesting for Bakugo,Izuku,Kirishima,Aizawa and Denki! More can be added to ur liking!) ❤️
you’d been too confident, too sure of the power that your quirk held. you misstepped, miscalculated, was three steps behind the villain as they swept you off your feet—not in the good way.
your head slammed against the ground as your legs crumpled beneath you, your ears ringing so loud it hurt your brain. your vision blurred, but you fought to focus again.
just as the villain moved to strike again, you rolled over and jumped to your feet, using the adrenaline to attack when they weren’t looking.
thankfully, your blow landed, but thanks to their quirk, it mirrored the damage and sent you flying.
you groaned as your back met a solid wall, the taste of iron filling your mouth, “fuck.”
thankfully, your head was left unscathed this time around, so you were able to pull yourself back up and strategize. adrenaline ran hot through your body, numbing the pain of the two recent attacks.
you attacked, but without your quirk, staying out of their line of vision. finally, when they weren’t paying attention, you used your quirk to finish the job.
you slapped some cuffs on them and called the police and then one of your sidekicks, letting them know your state and that you wouldn’t be able to make it back on your own.
once you hung up, you dropped down against the wall, the pain finally caught up to you, red-hot all over your body as you slowly slipped out of consciousness.
-
❥ katsuki stormed into the infirmary of your agency, wildly searching for you. the moment he laid eyes on you, relief evident all over his face.
“oh god, are you okay?” he grabbed your hand, squeezing it tight.
you coughed, your free hand resting on your ribs, “yeah. just a little banged up.” you lifted your shirt, showing the blossoming bruises, “you should see the other guy.”
he wasn’t laughing, not even smiling, “why didn’t you call for backup?”
“thought i could take ‘em.” you mumbled, a little embarrassed at your own weakness, “sorry.”
he sighed and shook his head, skimming his thumb over the back of your hand, “we can talk about it later. i’m just glad you’re okay. no permanent damage?”
you shook your head, “just a crap ton of pain. concussed. too much light hurts my eyes.”
he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “i’ll stay with you and make sure it’s as dark as you need it to be.”
“thanks, kats.” you smiled, giving his hand a light squeeze, “thanks for coming.”
“of course, baby. the moment i found out you were hurt, i started running over here.”
“you ran?” you giggled but stopped once the pain in your side grew to be too much.
“yeah, was a couple blocks away. don’t laugh, i don’t want you to get more hurt.” he frowned.
“‘kay, i wont. i love you.”
“i love you, too.”
❥ kaminari nearly stumbled over himself as he busted into the infirmary, eyes already red-rimmed after he’d heard the news. you felt the nervous energy buzzing off of him as soon as he stepped into the room, a faint hum being heard as his quirk interacted with the lights.
once he saw you, he was immediately by your side, hands on your cheeks, “are you okay?”
he was just a bit too loud, hurting your already throbbing head.
once he noticed you wince, he apologized and spoke at a whisper, “sorry, love. how are you feeling?”
you nodded, “i’m okay. just bruised and have a bit of a concussion.”
his face was pained just at the thought of you being hurt, “as soon as we get out of here, we’re gonna lay down, watch movies with the blinds closed and lights off, and take it easy.”
you smiled at the idea, “sounds amazing, kami.”
he kissed your hand, “then hurry up and get better, okay?”
you nodded, slowly and carefully scooting over to make some room for him on the bed, "lay with me?"
he grinned, carefully claiming the spot next to you. it was a tight fit, but he was able to lay by your side without causing you any pain.
"think i'm gonna nap." you mumbled, looking at him with tired eyes.
"alright, i'll be right by your side, baby."
❥ midoriya was a mess when he finally walked through the door, having stopped at the store to pick up anything you might have needed, including an extra pair of clothes.
"sorry i didn't get here sooner," he placed the items on the bureau, "i thought you might need some food and clothes. i know your quirk takes a lot out of you, not to mention your injuries, so--"
"izu," you stopped him, squeezing your eyes shut, "just come be with me, please."
he shut up, making his way over to you, "how're you feeling?"
"i'm okay. i should've called for backup," you reached out for his hand, linking your pinkie with his.
"yeah, you should've, but now you'll know for next time." he assured, "i'm just so relieved that you're okay. i hate that you don't have a partner."
"don't." you stopped him, cause you knew exactly where this conversation was going, "you're not quitting your agency and joining mine or vice versa. we're doing good, izu. this was just a bump in the road."
he sighed, pulling up a chair next to your bed, "yeah. okay. i know you can handle yourself, but it still scares me."
you smiled, "well, i may not have one for all, but i can handle myself. i just got cocky today. i'm okay, izuku. we're okay."
he nodded, seemingly convinced by your words, "alright, i trust you. now, get your rest. i'll be here."
you kissed his hand, "i know you will."
❥ kirishima all but tore the door off its hinges to get into your room. he was by your side faster than you could've even kept up with, worry and fear evident in his eyes.
"are you okay? your commissioner called me an--and, i came straight here--they didn't give me any specifics, i just--"
"woah, eiji," you grabbed his hand, placing it over your heart, "feel it? i'm okay. just got thrown around a little. kinda part of this whole hero deal."
he calmed down at the feeling of your heart thrumming against his palm, an significant amount of stress rolling off his body in waves, "yeah, okay." he whispered, getting his bearings, "sorry, sorry, i just.. i assumed the worst."
"i know you did. you always do, but i'm here, and we're together, and everything's okay." you assured, intertwining your fingers with his, "i just wanna go home w'you already."
"i know, but i think they're gonna keep you here overnight," he frowned, "i'll stay here with you. sleep on a chair or something."
"you can sleep with me, ei." you rolled your eyes but immediately regret it when even that hurt your head, "just don't crush me in your sleep."
he shook his head, "no way. i can't risk that. really, i'll just ask for a cot or something."
you knew he wouldn't budge, so you nodded, "fine. but you're holding my hand all night."
he grinned for the first time, showing you that blinding, sharp smile that you love, "duh."
❥ despite how calm he usually was, aizawa swung the door open to the infirmary, scared and a bit angry.
"do you want me to scold you before or after i ask if you're okay?" he frowned, approaching your bed.
"get it over with." you couldn't help but grin, ready for the reminder of all the mistakes you made that landed you in the infirmary in the first place.
he narrowed his eyes, "backup, y/n. the entire point of having sidekicks and being a hero out in the public eye is that you have backup--visibility. you're strong, but you're too self-reliant."
"you think i'm strong?"
his eye twitched. he really didn't see the humor in your situation, but it was you, and he could never stay mad at you, "y/n, you're insufferable, but i'm being serious. being a hero means knowing when to call for help, so please, for my sanity and your health, can you master that skill?"
you sighed, knowing he was right, "yeah, i can. i'm sorry. i just got cocky after i moved up in the ranks this past week."
"that's why i chose underground," he muttered, "numbers get in your head and make you think you're invincible, like some omnipotent god."
you giggled, holding onto your side as pain flared up, "not this again. you're never gonna persuade me to be an underground hero. i am an omnipotent god."
"and that's how you wound up here, in an infirmary." he pinched the bridge of his nose, "you're gonna be the death of me."
"at least you'll go out with a bang," you grinned, reaching up for his hand.
he grabbed it, placing a kiss atop, "true, darling. very true."
a/n: woooo, thanks for the request. funny story: i actually started writing bakugo’s part and then it became like,,, 1.5k long,,, so i’m doing a stand-alone for him!!
there’s a request i’m working on but i interpreted it wrong so now i’m starting over & then writing a stand-alone based on what i wrote bdhshsbajakdh i hate myself.
I couldn’t find any post about rules for requests so if this request is something u don’t wanna do then u can delete it. But I was thinking if you could do aizawa having a sibling or daughter. Like a younger sister or daughter who he teaches and do some type of angst with them. Like him not paying much attention to her or she’s caught doing something (like smoking,drugs). Something like that. Thank you!
i see you
aizawa / younger sister! reader
cw: (underage) drug usage, drug paraphernalia, drug lingo, she/her pronouns
aizawa had never been the warm, touchy-feely big brother, but he had his own way of showing love. he’d spend time with you, help you with your middle and high school projects no matter how busy he was with school. he basically raised you after the two of you lost your parents.
still, you never thought of him as a dad. you thought of him as your big brother, the only person that you had in this world. the person who was there when your quirk manifested, the one who taught you how to use it, how to fight, how to be strong. he was your blood, your best friend, your brother.
at least until he started school at u.a.
he’d come home late, beat up, bruised from rigorous training. no matter how much you voiced your concerns, he brushed you off.
the only moment your young teenage mind had relief was when he decided to be an underground hero. as selfish as it sounded, you didn’t want him to be famous and known by all. then you would be even more alone.
-
now, as a teacher and an underground hero, aizawa was busier than ever. even when he was home, he paid you no mind, not bothering to ask how school had been or how your grades were.
it stung.
when you did talk, it was usually because he was getting mad at you for not washing dishes or leaving a cupboard door open.
a wedge had been driven between the two of you, pushing you farther and farther apart until all you could feel was hurt and anger and betrayal. all of those negative emotions were manifesting into the ugliness of resentment.
-
as the sun fell, you pulled on some clothes, something cropped and small and tight. you had already done some dark makeup to meet up with some friends for a smoke sesh.
grabbing your duffel bag that contained your grinder and some rolling papers, you took a careful step out of the door and listened.
fuck, he was home.
you glanced over at your window but immediately rejected the idea after recalling how hard you’d fallen the last time. with a sigh, you quietly made your way down the stairs, into the kitchen, and towards the front door.
“where are you going?” his voice stopped you, annoyance flaming red hot in your chest, “a rave?”
“does it matter?” you quirked a brow, turning around to face him, “i’ll be back later.”
“dressed like that?” he was unamused, eyes narrowed at both your outfit choice and the smell radiating off your bag.
you scoffed, turning back around and walking to the door.
“y/n, you’re not going anywhere dressed like that.” he called, standing up.
“i’m almost 18. i don’t have to ask you how i’m allowed to dress.” you grabbed your house keys, opening the door.
“y/n.” he demanded, firmer, “you’re not going. go back upstairs, wipe that shit off your face, and read a book or something.”
you didn’t even spare him a glance, save for a polished middle finger as you slammed the door behind you.
-
hours later, you were high off your ass from a few too many bowls. for the most part, you were sprawled out on the grass, blinking slowly at the starry sky.
you didn’t know how you were gonna get home or face your brother, but that was the beauty of being high. none of it mattered. the fact that he didn’t love you anymore didn’t matter. the fact that he was disappointed in you, hated you, thought you were a failure, a disgrace—none of it mattered.
“yo, y/n.. are you crying?”
you touched your cheek, feeling the wetness you hadn’t even realized was there, “oh shit. yeah, guess i am.”
your friend approached you, reaching out a hand, “come on, let’s get you home.”
thankfully, you picked friends well, and they helped you trudge all the way to your doorstep. after waving goodbye, they left, leaving you to lazily fumble for the keys to the door.
before you even had the chance, aizawa unlocked and yanked the door open, staring down at you disapprovingly.
you rolled your eyes, pushing past him and into the house, immediately heading for the stairs.
“really, y/n? is this what you do? waste your life away by getting high?” he slammed the door, locking it behind him.
“yeah, cool, right?” you giggled, leaning against the banister.
“this isn’t funny. you’re throwing your life away by smoking and god knows what else.” he approached you, “get down here. we need to talk about this.”
“don’t really feel like it.”
“i don’t give a damn,” he grabbed your arm, dragging you down the stairs and to the island in the kitchen, “sit the hell down.”
“don’t fucking touch me.” you hissed, yanking your arm away, “i don’t wanna talk to you.”
“too bad. you make stupid choices, so you get to deal with the consequences.” he sat on one of the barstools, “how long?”
“how long what?”
“have you been smoking?”
you rolled your eyes, sarcasm dripping like venom from your voice, “well, i didn’t like how oxy and acid felt, so, maybe a year ago?”
“fine, you wanna be funny? let’s see how much you’re laughing when you’re grounded.”
you snorted out a laugh, “grounded? okay, dad, you taking away my tv and phone, too?”
he said nothing but placed his palm out expectantly.
you gaped, only for a moment, before doubling over in laugher, “yeah, right. you’re not getting my shit.”
“until i know what sneaky shit you’re doing behind my back, yeah, i am.”
irritation crawled up your arms, halting all laughter, “behind your back? really? that’s rich.”
he quirked a brow, hand still ready to grab your phone.
“it’s not behind your back if you’re never here anyways. i could be a few weeks pregnant and you wouldn’t even know.”
“are you?” he looked worried, just for a moment.
“god,” you shook your head, hurt panging in your chest, “no. i know you think i’m stupid, but i’m not that stupid.”
“i don’t think you’re stupid. i think you’re acting out for attention.”
you gritted your teeth, anger bubbling over, “don’t. don’t act like you know shit about me, cause you don’t.” emotion was evident in your tone and you knew it, you knew by the burn in your eyes that you’d start crying soon.
“then tell me.” he scanned your face, the concern becoming more evident on his features, and it pissed you off.
“now you wanna know? after all these years of me being on my own, you wanna know?” your vision blurred, which might have been a relief, “you don’t get to, to abandon me and ignore me and then pop in and play dad whenever you want. it doesn’t fucking work that way.”
you were crying now, but your words were still sharp as a blade. they made aizawa lose his composure, his expression faltering into one of realization.
“y/n, i didn’t..” he trailed off, trying to find the words.
“didn’t what? get too busy? miss the science fair? my sporting events? every fucking report card that i worked my ass off to get good grades on?” you demanded, years worth of weight finally coming off of your shoulders, “yeah, you fucking did, shota. you became a hero and just,” your voice cracked, finally taking your words away from you.
he was crying too, eyes wide and focused on you, “i’m so sorry.”
you stared at him, dumbfounded. your tears were relentless, all but choking you with an ocean of salt and sadness and anger.
“why?” you whispered out, “why wasn’t i good enough? i tried, i tried..” your legs finally gave way as you started to sink towards the ground.
aizawa caught you, squeezing you tight in his arms, “you’re perfect, y/n. i’m so sorry.” he whispered.
a shock ran through your body at the contact. you couldn’t remember the last time the two of you had hugged. for a moment, you just stared at the wall, frozen and shocked. the protectiveness that rolled off aizawa in waves brought you back, compelling you to squeeze him and never let go.
“i love you, shota. please don’t leave me again.”
“i love you too. i’m not going anywhere.”
a/n: woop, thanks for the request. i don’t write aizawa much so this was super fun! i hope it was to your liking.
despite how well todoroki had filled out from rigorous hero training following high school, his mass and lean build of muscle did nothing to help his alcohol tolerance. not only that, but he seldom drank and usually wound up behind the wheel following any gathering or night out.
basically, he got really, really drunk after the smallest amount of alcohol. he was your friend, so naturally you kept an eye on him but also recorded the dumb stuff he did.
you’d usually be the one to make sure he got home safe, cleaned up, and tucked into bed at an hour that wouldn’t have him completely incapacitated the next day.
you usually didn’t attend parties unless todoroki was there. sure, you had other friends from ua, but the vibe just wasn’t the same when you didn’t have todoroki to lounge with, pointing out and laughing about all the dumb things people did when they were totally wasted.
tonight, you were again seated next to todoroki, giggling together at kirishimas attempt at a one-handed handstand.
“he’s gonna bust his face, i bet,” you snorted, leaning your head back against the cushion of the couch.
“prolly.”
you looked over at him, quirking a brow at his fourth drink, “one of those nights, huh?”
luckily, you were sober and perfectly able to drive him home when this night ended the way you knew it would.
“yeah,” a smile snuck onto his lips as he took another sip, “g’na take care of me?”
you chuckled, dropping your head onto his shoulder, “i always do.”
his breath stuttered and you almost questioned it until kirishima lost his balance and fell to the floor, his foot catching the corner of the coffee table.
the two of you broke into a fit of laughter, stomachs aching and a small bit of beer spilling onto todoroki’s lap.
“oh, shit,” you sucked in a breath, wiping away a tear, “i know that hurt.”
kirishima’s groans of pain supported your statement, the rest of the partygoers nearly choking on their drinks from laughter.
“man, i spilled my drink,” he slurred out, looking down at the wet spot on his jeans.
“well, at least it was on your thigh. doesn’t look like pee.” you teased.
“m’gonna go get another.”
you checked the time—1:30 in the morning, aka way too late.
“i don’t think that’s a good idea. we should get you home,” you insisted, taking the empty bottle from his hand.
“noo..” he reached for the drink, “it’s still early.”
you walked away to toss the drink into the nearest trash can and then back to todoroki, “let’s go.”
he groaned, reluctantly stumbling to his feet. once he was up, he leaned into your side, nearly knocking you over.
with a bit of effort, the two of you were out the door and into the car, making the familiar journey to todoroki’s house.
-
“god, you gotta help me here, sho.” you grunted, helping him into a new pair of clothes.
he sat there lifelessly, eyes glaring yet unseeing into the ground.
you sighed, finally managing to get his clothes on, “alright, lay down.” you walked around the side of the bed, pulling out the duvet.
he scooted up and under the blanket, mumbling quietly as he settled.
“alright, i already have your advil and water on the nightstand. i’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?”
“no..” he whined, reaching out to you.
“what? what’s wrong?”
“stay..” he drawled out, gripping onto your forearm, “sleep.”
you glanced to the side, unsure of how to handle the situation, “uh, i gotta get home, sho.”
“lay w’me..” he frowned, brows drawing right in frustration, “please.”
“okay, okay.” you gave in, flipping the light switch off before you joined him in bed, “better?”
he grinned dopily, throwing an arm around you, “mm.”
your entire face was aflame. never before had you ever cuddled todoroki, your best friend, the guy you told all your secrets to.
eventually, after you stayed completely still, his breathing evened out and you were quite sure he was asleep.
with a determined grunt, you slowly and carefully started to slip out of his grasp.
“y/n,” he pulled you in tighter, eyes blinking open to reveal that he was not, in fact, asleep, “don’t go.”
you sighed, dropping back down beside him, “okay, okay. i’m sorry.”
“want you to stay w’me.” he mumbled out, “forever.”
your heart was slamming in your chest, for you were impossibly close to him, completely able to smell the alcohol on his breath.
“i’m right here.”
“no, want you with me.” his eyes were more focused now, staring straight into yours, “mine.”
“i am, i’m your best friend.” you insisted, offering a small smile.
“i wanna love you.”
“i do love you, we’re always together.”
“i wanna kiss love you, cuddle love you. i wanna love you, love you.” he seemed a little more frustrated, as if he couldn’t say what he wanted to say, not properly at least.
“sho, you’re drunk.” you stammered out, doing your best to not make eye contact with him.
“maybe,” he breathed, eyes shining like you’d never seen before, “but i’d love you drunk, sober, asleep, awake, dead or alive. i’d love you no matter what.”
you gaped, matching his unwavering gaze. your entire body was aflame with emotion, all the way down to the tips of your toes. it was only then that you realized that you couldn’t see yourself with anyone else. you loved todoroki—even though you’d initially considered him a friend. you loved him more.
loving, living, soaring through life with hawks was breathtaking. it was an experience only possible by meeting the right person at the right time.
the two of you clicked immediately, a magnetic attraction forcing you together. north met south and the rest was history.
every day was a new adventure. despite being a hero, he always made time to share a sunset or rise, to pick you flowers he’d spotted from above, to do every little thing that showed just how much he loved you.
and you loved him. you loved him so much it was scary, startling, an occurrence so frail and freeing that it had you waiting for the bad to balance it out, as bad always does.
yet, the bad strung you along, drawing you unknowingly to the edge of a cliff side. you were blindfolded, not sure when your next step would fail to meet the solid earth.
the bad—the dreaded bad—hid itself within the happiness and perfections of your relationship. within those perfections we’re cracks, flaws at the fact that the two of you were so dependent on each other for happiness.
you woke up everyday only to wait for hawks to come home—he was your reason for putting one foot in front of the other. being together had made you lose your sense of purpose.
the bad crept into your brain, creeping into every fold and reminding yourself just how lackluster you were without the blinding light of the great hawks.
this insecurity, the doubt, had manifested itself into jealously. the tiniest bit of jealousy that licked at your stomach with every headline, every story about how work had gone that day.
it took less than five jealous episodes for you to recognize the feeling. initially, you’d been in denial. hawks was an amazing hero that saved people, why should you be jealous?
you found too many answers to that, and it scared you.
the realization that your relationship was unhealthy hit you like a blow to the stomach. you knew being with hawks was so many things: magical, wonderful, amazing—but never unhealthy.
just associating that word with your relationship helped you realize that you and hawks needed to talk.
-
“what’s up, babe?” hawks draped an arm over your shoulder as he stepped into your apartment, smooching your cheek.
you tried to smile, tried to dislike the kiss, but all you felt was rolling waves of nausea.
“we, um,” you looked to the side, “we need to talk.”
he eyed you, scanning your face for any sign of humor, “y/n?”
“keigo, please.” you sucked in a breath, ducking out from under his arm to find a place on the couch, “come sit down.”
he was nervous now. the two of you never, ever joked about things like this. nervous energy radiated off his body as he took a seat beside you, “what’s wrong?”
“i’ve, um..” you already felt your eyes watering. how pathetic, you couldn’t even make it through a single sentence.
the floodgates were opening at the mere idea of the two of you no longer being together. your love was beautiful, but the relationship left no room for growth, so you pushed through your tears.
“i’ve been thinking. i—we,” you cleared your throat, taking his hands in yours, “we need a break.”
his entire face dropped the moment you finished your sentence, “what?”
“we need a break, keigo. this relationship has us too—too dependent on each other. we’re suffocating each other. there’s no room for growth.”
his hands flew to your face as his eyes grew glassy, “y/n, please. please, don’t do this. we can work this out together.” he begged, thumbing away your tears.
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry.” you whispered, “but it’s true. we can’t even stand being apart for too long and it’s unhealthy, kei. it’ll make us hate each other in the long run.”
“okay, okay, then i’ll change, you’ll change. there’s no reason for a break,” he reasoned, eyes more desperate than you’d ever seen, “please, please, look at me, y/n. please.”
you looked down, unable to muster the courage to look him in the eyes. you’d fold. you’d fold with his beautiful honeyed eyes, especially the twinkle in them when they were accompanied by tears. you wouldn’t be able to resist him.
“i’m sorry, keigo.”
conflicted and desperate, he pulled you into a harsh kiss, one so full of grief and teeth and pain. you couldn’t indulge, not even for a second, so you pulled back, pushing his hands away from your face.
“i’ll always love you. that’s why i’m doing this, okay? i promise, i’ll always love you.” you choked out, “we can be friends, okay? we just—we just need time.”
he shook his head, grabbing desperately for your hands, “please. please, i’m sorry, i’m sorry okay? whatever i did, i’m sorry.”
your heart shattered at his apologies. you rested a gentle hand on his leg, “you didn’t do anything wrong. we just.. stagnated, okay? we forgot about independence. we’ll be okay after a while.”
he dropped his head onto your shoulder and sobbed, no words left to convey the realization that you weren’t going to change your mind.
and so you held him, held him through the tears and anguish. still, once the storm had passed, you were true to your word. you kissed his forehead, a silent promise that you would be together again one day.
bro i’ve noticed that y’all eat up bakugo every single time 🥲 i get he’s a fan fave but y’all swarm like (cute) flies every time i write smth about him, and those works are usually the crappy ones 😭
“way, way back. before me, before us. what would you do?”
the silence you were met with wasn’t at all surprising. a low, deep growl of thunder reverberated through the sky and into the ground. it startled you, so much so that you pushed yourself up to your feet.
“would you walk right past me? look the other way? pretend you didn’t see me so you wouldn’t have had to hold that door open?” not being answered boiled your blood.
it was a helpless kind of frustration, one that made the back of your eyes and the tips of your fingers burn with impatience. ultimately, you couldn’t help but yell.
“would you follow your dream anyways? be able to run the restaurant so much easier without me here?” you demanded, fists clenched tightly at your side, so much so that small crescents were forming on your palms, “you’d be able to go all around the board, pass go, and collect that $200, huh? all without me.”
your tears didn’t get the memo your brain was desperately trying to send.
be angry. not sad.
yet, you couldn’t truthfully say your tears were ones of anger—instead those of grief.
“that’s what you said you wanted, right?” you whispered, a ball forming in your throat, “you wanted your business to thrive, and that just wasn’t possible with me there.”
“y/n—”
“no, shut up.” you bit out sharply, hands trembling at your side, “you don’t get to talk. not after you cheated.”
his entire expression faltered, mouth gaping like a dumbfounded fish. a stupid goddamn fish that had been caught and was about to be reeled in and grilled.
“it’s bad enough that i had to hear it from atsumu, but with them? we hit a rough patch and you run to them? that’s fucking,” you sucked in a breath, hating the crack in your voice, “that’s fucking pathetic. onigiri miya isn’t stagnating because of me, because you think i’m holding you back. it’s because of you.”
you clenched your jaw to keep your lip from trembling. your entire body was lit up like a christmas tree, anger and betrayal running hot down into your fingers. every force in the universe compelled you to scream, cry, hit something, but you didn’t. you attacked him with your words, your pain, your broken heart.
“it’s because you have some war waging on in your mind, perceiving everyone else as the problem, the—the issue.” you stammered out, suddenly feeling so liberated, so free of the sheer weight of the truth, “newsflash, you’re not fucking perfect.”
“y/n, please, just let me—”
“shut the fuck up! you’ve talked over me, suppressed my opinions, dismissed me—for too damn long.” you hissed, stepping forward to jut a finger into his chest, “you’ve wasted my time. three years of my life that i’m never gonna get back. do you realize the gravity of that? three whole fucking years.”
you stared up at him, watching him cry and savoring it. you’d never felt so powerful, so alive. you drank in his pain, his regret, the wounds you were creating with the sole force of your words.
“don’t ever, ever contact me again. don’t have atsumu or suna or fucking aran ask how i’m doing. stay the fuck out of my life.” you dropped your hand, shaking your head, “i hope this restaurant, the little stress relief you felt when you were with them—i hope it was worth losing one of the only people that’s stood by your side.”
a feeling of calm accompanied you out the door as you stepped into a world of freedom and opportunities.
❥ katsuki loves every inch of you. of course, he loves your mind and soul more than anything, but your looks were definitely a bonus.
you were the same with him, except there was one thing you loved a tiny bit more.
“goddamit, y/n, if you poke my ass one more time—” he gritted his teeth, body basically folded in half from your playful assault on his ass.
you giggled, backing yourself up against the nearest surface, “sorry, kats. you know i just can’t resist when you bend over in front of me like that.”
his hands were twitching and eyes scanning, a telltale sign that he was watching and waiting until the perfect moment to get you back, “it’s not even just then. when i’m walking up the stairs, or laying on my bed, you go straight for my ass like some kind of vulture.”
“you do the same shit!” you accused, “except you don’t poke, you grab!”
he chuckled, as if recalling a fond memory, “dunno what you’re talking about.”
“bullshit.” you scooted against the wall, never once taking your eyes off him. you couldn’t stay in the same spot, for he’d easily be able to manhandle you and get you back.
your eyes darted left towards the living room and then right towards the laundry room, excitement and fear and adrenaline thrumming under your skin.
“don’t even try.”
now or never, you decided, making a break for the living room with a squeal.
the heavy footsteps behind you made the chase all the more thrilling as you launched yourself towards the couch, only to fail as bakugo wrapped his arms around your waist just in time.
“no!” you screamed, struggling fruitlessly against him.
“nice try.”
❥ kaminari is always attached at your hip. physical contact makes his skin buzz with life and love and everything in between. he’s always holding your hand, your thigh, your face, and occasionally your ass.
he doesn’t have a favorite part of your body, considering he’s constantly touching all of it, but he does love ass as much as the next guy. he’ll poke you when you bend over and burst out into hysterical laughter at the look on your face when you stand upright.
your favorite thing to do in retaliation is to take the high road and wait until you’re laying together. every night, he has to crawl to the end of the bed to tug the ceiling fan light off, giving you the perfect opportunity to kick him right in the ass.
“ah!” he yelped the moment your foot made contact with his ass, curling in on himself.
“that’s what you get for nearly knocking me over earlier.”
just as he moved to get back at you, he lost his balance and rolled right off the bed with a thud.
instinctively, you burst into laughter, throwing the blanket off to go check on him.
he was laughing too, cracking up on the wood floor at his own pain. looking at him just made you laugh more as you dropped to the floor beside him, trying desperately to breathe.
“oh-” he guffawed out, “oh fuck.”
you shook off the last bit of giggles, straddling his lower stomach, “are you okay?”
once his face went back to his normal color, he nodded as the last bit of laughter bubbled out of his body, “yeah, didn’t even hit anything. except for my butt.”
your head fell onto his chest as you broke into laughter all over again, “oh my god, perfect.”
❥ ejirou is the ass man of all ass men. he naps on it, grabs it, pokes it, smacks it, bites it—he’s an ass man. he squeezes it when he kisses or hugs you—his hands just naturally gravitate towards it.
since being with him, you’ve developed the habit of squatting rather than bending over to pick something up. you only walk behind him up the stairs, which sometimes is advantageous for you, considering you’re quite fond of his ass as well.
you’ll poke his butt when he goes upstairs, which starts an all-out chase around the entirety of the house. even at his agency, you’ll visit during his break to bring him something to eat and bug him for his hour lunch.
“thanks, babe,” he spoke through a mouth full of lunch, sat behind a sleek desk.
“no problem.” you had a chair pulled up next to his, fingering his hard, gelled up hair, “you should’ve taken off your hero costume.”
he eyed you knowingly, “why? cause my sash covers my ass?”
you grinned, “maybe. but i gotta say, i do love the half-naked part of your costume.”
“perv.”
“you’re one to talk.”
he chuckled and lifted you onto his lap, his hands resting comfortably where your hips ended and ass began, “yeah, but at least i’m honest about it.”
you cupped his cheeks and kissed his nose, “you are, my lovely, pervy ass-man.”
❥ hawks isn’t always with you, but when he is, he’s all over you. he’ll take you to the highest places and hold you, the two of you trapped between his wings. your ass is one of the more intimate places he loves.
sometimes he just needs to hold you in silence, listening to nothing but the sound of your breaths mingling and heartbeat becoming one. his hands will skim feather-lightly over your waist, hips, and ass.
you’d finger his feathers, gently rubbing them between your fingers. you’d gently rub the lightly scarred area where his wings sprouted from, basking in the sheer intimacy between the two of you.
other times, when he was less vulnerable and more of the happy, charismatic, witty hero that everyone knew, he’d tickle and carry you, make dirty jokes and innuendos that left you rolling your eyes.
you loved both sides, but you had to admit that the soft, quiet intimacy was your favorite.
“i love you.” you mumbled into his bare chest, slipping your hand down his back.
“i love you.” his eyes were closed, thumb smoothing over your hip, “all of you.”
his wings fluttered under your touch the moment you moved your hand up, his hand squeezing the fat between your hip and ass.
cw: descriptions of blood, accidental injury, hospitals
night after night, kirishima was plagued with nightmares of the most horrigying, gut-wrenching situations that he was unfortunately familiar with.
the league, rappa, all for one--they invaded his mind and dreams, constantly chasing and drawing him into a corner. no matter how unbreakable he tried to be, no matter how rock solid his skin became, he lost each and every time. he was suffocated, backed into a wall as his worst enemies shrouded him in a darkness he knew all too well.
then, just as they attacked, he'd jolt awake in a cold sweat. frantically, he'd look around the room, controlled only by the overwhelming fear and need to survive. he'd scan the room, but he always found nothing. instead, he sat back against the headboard, his ragged, uneven breathing filling the room.
sleep was impossible afterward, so he started his day the moment he woke up. once he was fully grounded, he'd reluctantly crack open an energy drink and prepare for the fatigue he knew would hit him like a brick wall in the middle of the day.
-
you knew nothing of kirishima's nightmares, for you'd been on a vacation with some friends for two weeks. he'd never had trouble sleeping before--not with you, anyways.
it pained you to leave him for so long, but your friends insisted that you join them on an out-of-state trip to some resort they'd booked. kirishima had also encouraged you to go, so you did. it was a wonderful two weeks of relaxation, but you were so excited to see your beautiful boy pick you up from the airport.
once you exited the terminal and picked up your bags, you said goodbye to your friends and excitedly walked to the cellphone lot. you weaved through groups of people as your suitcase bumped over cracks in the sidewalk, antsy and excited to see your boyfriend.
you looked around excitedly as you reached your agreed-upon meet-up spot, waiting anxiously for kirishima. so many people were meeting up with family, friends, lovers--that was the beautiful thing about airports, you'd found. it was sad at times, but reunions and meet-ups were so wholesome.
your first instinct when someone grabbed your waist from behind was to jerk away, but when you turned to see kirishima, you grinned and hopped up into his arms, "ei! oh my gosh, i missed you so much."
you squeezed him tight, so, so tight.
"i missed you too, babe," he chuckled, his words a little strained as you all but crushed his ribs, "but you're gonna kill me."
"too bad. i just went an entire two weeks without you. you're not gonna get more than two inches away from me." you insisted, but finally dropped down to the ground.
all it took was an actual look at kirishima's face for you to realize that something was definitely wrong. his eyes were heavy and almost half-lidded, a dark shadow casting under them. his entire expression, albeit happy to see you, was exhausted.
"baby, what's wrong? you look so tired." you frowned, bringing up a hand to rub a thumb along his eye bags.
"it's nothing," he chuckled half-heartedly, "just don't sleep the same without you. you sayin' i don't look handsome or what?"
"you always look handsome. but," you snatched the keys from him, "not handsome enough to drive tired. we're laying down as soon as we get home."
he grabbed for the keys, "babe, you just got off a ten hour red-eye. you can't drive."
"i slept the entire ride, now get your handsome self into the passenger seat." you demanded, already walking to the car.
he knew it was futile to argue with you, so he did as you asked and settled into the passenger seat. the entire ride home, you had one hand on the wheel and the other tightly squeezing his hand. despite his deflection, you were pretty worried about him. he'd always slept like a rock, always energized from a full 8-hours worth of sleep.
it was no big deal, you hoped.
-
the moment the two of you were inside, you locked the door, left your suitcase in the living room, and dragged kirishima to the bedroom.
you didn't miss the energy drink cans in the kitchen trash, your worry only growing.
"now, we're not getting up until you're refreshed." you insisted, back to him as you changed into something more comfortable.
"m'not even that tired."
"you were dozing off in the car. quit trying to lie to me, ejirou." once changed, you nestled under the duvet next to him, scooting all the way up to him.
he draped an arm over you, scooting you impossibly closer. your face was level with his, your eyes meeting in a silent conversation of relief. relief that you were together again, relief that you didn't have to sleep separately.
"i missed you so much." he whispered, tracing shaped into your back, "i'm glad you had fun, but it made me think of how we're literally always together."
"i missed you too." you traced lines up and down his bicep, "i know. i'm not used to being away from you so long. we're never separated for more than hours at a time."
he hummed, "is that even healthy?"
"don't care."
"me neither."
the conversation halted there as you scooted down to rest your head against his chest, soothed by his familiar scent and his heartbeat and the cushiony muscle that you loved.
within minutes, the two of you were asleep, breathing steady as you finally felt able to sleep safely. no more hotel rooms, starchy hotel sheets, too-soft hotel pillows. just your kirishima, your bed, your sheets, and your pillows.
you drifted off, a series of dreams flurrying in your mind. they made sense as they occurred, but surely they wouldn't should you try to explain them consciously. you dreamed of the water and a flicker of a face you'd seen at the beach, of talking to members of a live band you'd seen, only their faces were warped into those of your friends, of the meals you'd eaten, only somehow you weren't strong enough to pick up the utensils--because no one's strong or fast in dreams.
suddenly, the dreams turned ugly. the band members--your friends--the people at the beach, the restaurant-goers, they turned against you. they cornered you and chased you until you had nowhere left to run. once they drew near, your abdomen was pierced, a red-hot stinging sensation flooding through your entire body.
your ears rang, but you weren't afraid--it was a dream, after all.
yet, the pain you felt was real, the drip of blood, everything felt so real.
the sensation of actual, realistic blood flow startled you awake.
your first thought was that you'd wet the bed, embarrassingly enough.
just as you moved to check, thousands of nerve endings were set ablaze with pain, making you hiss, "fuck!"
lightheadedness swamped your head, filling your throat with a thick layer of nausea, "ei--fuck--ei!"
your face, arms, torso, legs--everything was on fire. you choked out a pained cry, trying desperately to discover the source of your agony.
you picked up your head, suddenly mortified.
it was kirishima. he was hardened, almost to the point of his unbreakable form. in his sleep.
you had no idea what shape your body was in, but you could only assume the worst considering the pain, and the longer you touched him, the deeper your wounds grew.
"ejirou!" you cried, unable to shake him awake without another wave of excruciating pain rolling through you, "wake up! please, please wake up!"
his eyes snapped open at your cries, afraid, defensive, battle-ready.
he was shaking, breathing raggedy, further worsening your injuries.
the moment his eyes fell on your pained ones, his quirk fell, an indescribable mix of horror and realization dawning on him.
the moment he was away from you, you rolled onto your back, limbs like lead. you couldn't even lift your head to evaluate the damage; your head was far too fuzzy. your vision was darkening in the corners as you choked on tears and oxygen as you tried desperately to gulp in breaths, "911.. call.. 911.." you whispered as your vision completely faded back to black.
-
kirishima was covered in blood in the back of the ambulance. your blood.
it was a blur. he'd been purged with another dream, one so much worse than the rest, and he'd hurt you. he hurt you.
his eyes were unseeing as he sat in the triage room, the nurse asking questions about the circumstances of the accident. he answered like a zombie, only remembering the part where he recommended therapy or sleeping in separate beds.
that stung. he couldn't even be near you without hurting you.
he sat in your room once he was allowed in. they'd given you a blood transfusion because you'd lost almost two entire liters by the time you'd reached the hospital. luckily, you hadn't hemorrhaged, but they needed you to stay over night to keep an eye on embolisms and other concerns he couldn't stomach the possibility of.
as he slouched in the chair beside your bed, he knew what he had to do. as he saw the bandages all over your body, on your eye, your eye that they weren't sure would ever be 100% again, he knew.
-
waking up was painful. the confusion and pain hit you like a tidal wave, forcing a groan from the depths of your stomach, "my god."
you leaned your head back into the pillows propping you up, face scrunched in pain. you tried to muffle quiet grunts of pain, but your body was buzzing with an uncomfortable lick of fiery pain.
"oh, mx. y/n, you're awake."
you peeked an eye open to see a doctor with a clipboard and an extremely dull kirishima who couldn't even seem to look at you.
"what's happening?" you mumbled, suddenly acutely aware that your left eye was covered with a bandage of some sort.
"well," she started, glancing at kirishima, "you're in a hospital. you arrived here by ambulance after you sustained a multitude of abrasions, gashes, and wounds scattered across your body. you lost almost two liters, so we did have to perform a blood transfusion."
your heart rate picked up as you connected the dots, "my.."
"i'm afraid your eye has sustained significant damage. as of now, i am unsure if you will ever be able to fully see out of it again."
warm tears flooded down your cheeks, your chest rising and falling rapidly at the idea of being blind from one eye.
"i'm very sorry. i'll give the two of you some time and then we can further discuss a recovery plan." the doctor dismissed herself, closing the door behind her.
you finally dared yourself to look at kirishima, who was biting hard at his lip, presumably to keep himself from crying.
"are you okay?" you finally stammered out, vision blurred with tears at the news you just received.
"how can you even ask me that?" he asked incredulously, "didn't you hear what the doctor said? i could've k--" he choked out a sob, clamping a hand over his mouth. after drawing in a tight breath, he began again, "i could've killed you, and you're asking me if i'm okay."
"you didn't mean to, ei, you were sleeping." you reasoned, "and you didn't kill me, i'm okay."
"you're half blind, y/n!" he touched a hand to his forehead, walking up and down anxiously, "what if it happens again? what if my quirk goes off again because of some stupid bad dream and i accidentally kill you?"
"you've been having nightmares?"
he just stared at you, eyes wide and red and puffy and breaking your heart.
"we can't be together."
a beat of silence, only ended by the beep of the heart monitor.
"what?"
"i hurt you, y/n. i made you bleed, i ruined your eye. i'm," he stammered out, "i'm dangerous. i can't be with you, i can't hurt you."
"you're hurting me right now, ei, what the hell are you talking about?" you demanded, forcing yourself into a sitting position, "it was an accident, i know you'd never hurt me."
he shook his head, looking down at his hands, "i hurt you. i'm so sorry, y/n. we can't--we can't be together because i hurt you."
your tears weren't from your physical pain anymore, they were from the idea of having a life without kirishima in it.
"ei, please, please--" you reached a hand towards him, begging, "please, just listen to me."
he stopped his pacing, stopped his babbling, and looked at you.
"the idea of not being able to love you, to kiss you, to be with you, that hurts me more than anything. more than a million cuts, more than losing both my eyes, all my limbs, more than anything." you focused a steely, watery gaze on him, "so don't hurt me. we can move past this together. i'll be with you for everything, no matter what."
he processed your words, a crying mess, but shook his head, "i can't, i can't--"
"eijirou." you demanded, "you love me, right?"
he nodded slowly, bottom lip quivering, "more than anything."
a/n: the 392 leaks are literally tearing me apart; i need some fluff.
coffee was the first step in bakugo’s morning routine. he was the cranky coffee cliche, a man that truly couldn’t function without a bit of caffeine in his system.
he was always up before you, filling the house with the rich scent of his colombian roast. initially it had you reeling, clearing your sinuses at its mere strength. but you’d grown accustomed and even began to love that scent every morning.
as you eased out of bed, stretching your arms above your head, you breathed deeply through your nose.
coffee.
you headed to the kitchen, slipping some house shoes on.
there he was, leaning against the counter with his kiss cat coffee mug that matched with yours.
the moment he heard you padding into the kitchen, his lips quirked into a smile, “coffee?”
you snorted, “not that poison.”
he set his mug down and pulled you into his chest as you approached him, smiling down at you.
“it’ll wake you up.”
“i’d rather do it naturally.”
you wrapped your arms around him, leaning your head against his chest.
for what you wished could be eternity, all you heard was his heartbeat and the soft hiss of the coffee machine. all was well in your world, a world so small. bakugo and coffee and your home. that was all you needed.
“i love you.” you mumbled, looking up at him.
“i love you.”
he leaned down for a kiss, leaving a strong taste of the strongest folgers colombian roast on the shelves. it was bitter, devoid of cream or sugar, but you’d drown in it for him. for one more kiss, one more hug. for eternity.
“sorry about the coffee breath.” he chuckled, leaning his forehead against yours.
bakugo doesn't sleep with more than one blanket or pillow. when he's persuaded into participating in halloween, he refuses to wear a full-face mask.
covid was a nightmare for him. he didn't go outside when he didn't have to, which meant plenty of grocery deliveries. masks triggered his anxiety to the fullest, but of course he wore it when he absolutely had to leave the house.
now, you had plenty of opinions and reservations about u.a. and the hero commission, most of them comprised of colorful language and a world full of screaming until you're red in the face.
they ruined not only bakugo, but so many other teenagers that thought they were doing the right thing. they thought they were training to become admirable role models, people who were going to be trained to use their unique gifts to save and protect people. they thought they were going to become heroes.
instead, all they got was ptsd and a handful of other mental illnesses that left them in therapy, on meds, or with debilitating night terrors.
bakugo unfortunately suffered from frequent night terrors. despite therapy and going on 3 years of being medicated for his anxiety, he still woke you up in the middle of the night with throat-ripping screams.
sometimes, you'd find him in the corner, screaming at you to get away, stop, leave him alone. it was heartbreaking.
-
some days you could gauge when he was going to have an episode. his hands were shakier, eyes unfocused, and his mind was just elsewhere.
today, he was exactly like that, only worse. you could tell his brain was all over the place, and you hated it. you hated how his brain turned against him and forced him to think the worst, most painful thoughts. it bound him to his worst memories, forcing him to relive his them over and over. his own brain.
you did everything you could to assuage the brain fog. you made him tea in the mornings, kept the house tidy, and tried to keep him from performing any heavy tasks. it was difficult, considering he didn't much fancy being helped or taken care of. when it was you, though, he let you.
after a particularly difficult day, the two of you settled into bed together, silent as you faced each other, gazing in silence.
"i'm scared." he whispered, finally breaking the silence.
just a look in his eyes was all it took for you to know it was true. he was terrified.
you placed your hand on his cheek, caressing your thumb over the skin, "i know. it's okay to be scared."
he shook his head, squeezing your hand. he squeezed his eyes shut, breaths quickening as he thought about the idea of sleeping. sleeping wasn't kind to him, and he knew it, because he never, never slept well.
"hey, hey, just breathe, okay?" you breathed deeply to set an example, one slow inhale preceding a lengthy exhale, "like that."
he followed your example, slowly relaxing his features, "yeah, yeah, okay."
"i know you're scared," you whispered, "but no matter what, i'm here. no matter what monster you see, no matter who's out to get you, you're going to open your eyes and it's gonna be me. it'll always be me."
he nodded, wordlessly, and scooted into your waiting arms.
-
you slept lightly since living with bakugo. that's what made it so easy for you to identify the earliest signs of his episode.
every shift in the bed, every ruffle of the sheets, you were stirring.
so when he sat up, you were half-awake. his steps fully woke you.
you shot up to a sitting position, watching carefully as he stood still for a moment.
"baby?" you whispered, scooting over to the edge of the bed.
no response. he walked over to the center of the room, going stiff.
"kats?"
just as you called out to him, he let out the most throat ripping scream you'd heard.
you jumped on the spot, blood going cold as the shriek reached your ears. your hands shook as you took your first step on the bed, careful to not get too near.
he faced you, eyes open but unseeing. they were glazed over, looking right through you with the most fear-filled eyes you'd ever seen. he was terrified, looking at you as if you had a knife in your hand and a slasher theme following you wherever you went.
"get away!" he screeched, staggering backwards, "get the fuck away!"
your heart shattered at his words, but you knew it wasn't about you. you sucked up your fear, your sadness, and took a deep breath to ground yourself.
"okay, okay. i'm sorry," you spoke calmly, sitting down on the floor cross-legged, "i didn't mean to scare you."
your voice still wavered, still shook with the fear you definitely felt.
he didn't seem to hear you, but your smaller presence seemed to make him feel less threatened.
he was grunting, groaning, crying. his stance was defensive, ready to defend. those hero instincts that he learned as a teenager, the need to protect himself because he was always, always in danger, never left.
that always scared you. the possibility of him activating his quirk and using it on you. but being hurt isn't what scared you--it was the guilt you know he'd feel. you were terrified of him leaving you because he thought he was a danger, or too much to handle. that couldn't be farther from the truth.
you just watched, at least five feet away from his shaking form. you wouldn't touch him, wouldn't yell or panic. you'd just watch, occasionally whispering some affirmations.
it took a while for him to calm down, to stop yelling and crying. about ten minutes later, his eyes went blank again and he walked himself back to the bed and laid down.
you followed him with your gaze and pushed yourself up with a soft sigh. after a moment of processing, you grabbed a water from the kitchen and set it on his nightstand.
you checked him once more to make sure he was comfortably asleep before taking your place next to him.
you watched his face, scanning it for any signs of discomfort or anxiety. nothing. as if it had never happened.
you kissed his forehead, "i'm so sorry, my love. i hope things won't always be like this."
ngl, i have so many opinions on all the trauma these poor kids have gone through, but i like to avoid discourse at all costs. also, i had to do some research on night terrors, so i hope i wasn't too far off.
numerous panic attacks had ensued since you were discharged from the hospital, but not all of them reached their final stages like the first had.
you’d grown better at grounding yourself and having some semblance of control over your anxiousness. slowly but surely, you felt the pain ebbing away.
it would never be gone completely, you knew, and every day you questioned the possibility of things being different.
what if katsuki hadn’t quit being a hero? what if he’d proposed just as he’d planned to? would your wedding have been beautiful? your marriage successful and healthy?
there were so many what ifs that hurt your heart just to think about.
yet, all you did was think about it—in the best, healthiest way.
you set aside your pride and fears and confided not only in your friends, but in a therapist. you had sessions weekly, and every time you walked out of the office, you felt a little lighter.
for the first time, you understood that it was okay to still love katsuki, to still want to be with him. in fact, they initially expressed how they wished the two of you had tried couples therapy before everything went south.
that was another what if that hurt.
you were always the more rational, levelheaded one. why hadn’t you thought of it, encouraged it? would it have made a difference? those thoughts kept you awake at night, haunting your mind and mocking you with images of a perfect life with katsuki. the life you could've had.
those thoughts were bumps in your path to recovery. it was only through those thoughts, however, that you learned that the road wasn't linear. you had amazing days when you felt strong and independent, days when you'd feel like you were in a colgate commercial. other days, you wanted to set your apartment on fire and disappear. you wanted to scream until your voice was gone, vocal chords torn to shreds. some days, you just wanted everything to stop.
through the good and the bad, you were able to persevere through the challenging navigation of a breakup. still, you granted yourself permission to still love him. to be in love with him. that love would never just vanish, you'd realized a few months into your journey. it dulled, flickered, and faded, but never vanished.
-
you'd found that implementing a routine in your daily life had greatly improved your overall mental health.
this morning, you turned on the news as you made yourself breakfast--a meal you forced yourself to consume, no matter how little it was.
as you grabbed what you needed from the cupboards, a name in the news had you pausing everything.
"...following his spontaneous philanthropic streak, former hero dynamight announces that he will be hosting a tell-all session at our local library. there, he intends to, quote, 'make amends with those i might have hurt with my words, actions, or lack thereof...' well, you heard it here. don't miss a valiant display of heroic vulnerability today at noon. in other news..."
you gaped at the tv, the glass bowl slipping from your suddenly clammy fingers.
philanthropic streak? where had you been?
the sound of the glass breaking reached your ears a whole minute after it hit the ground, snapping you out of your dumbfounded stupor.
"shit," you cursed, crouching down to pick up the pieces.
no, don't even think about it.
you looked at the clock, reading 8 as the time. plenty of time for you to get dressed and go.
no.
you could easily make it in time and sit in the back, just to see him and hear what he had to say.
no.
you'd wear something inconspicuous and hide in the back, just being silent. and then you'd leave, after ten minutes.
no.
every no carried a little bit of yes at the end of it, forcefully dragging you out of the kitchen and into the bathroom for a shower. it was closure, you argued to yourself, closure that you desperately needed.
it's going to be excuses, nothing but lies.
dark clothes are the best choice, you decided, anxiously changing into something you deemed inconspicuous. just ten minutes, it was all you needed.
don't throw all your progress away for ten minutes.
you stared at the mirror, trying to find a single good reason to stay home. yet, every thought in your mind convinced you that this, this is what you needed. you needed to hear him express his regret, his remorse to other people. people who once trusted and supported him in his endeavors, only to be woefully let down by his bouts of anger.
this will just make you hurt more. don't do this.
you discarded every invasive voice in the back of your brain and found yourself at the library come noon, hidden behind a bookshelf. you browsed the shelves with unseeing eyes, thoughts drowned out by the low murmur of the large crowd seated in front of the small stage in the center.
the library was home to many plays around the city, which you found ironic. would this be another display of dramatism and lies?
just as you found a book with a flattering cover, the mic whined with a little feedback.
"sorry about that."
you knew the voice, but the genuineness was foreign to you. you peeked over the row of books, your blood running cold as you saw katsuki sitting meekly on a chair on the stage.
"hello, everyone. i'm, uh, i'm bakugo katsuki, but most of you might know me as dynamight," he began, scanning the crowd, "a lot of you might not be fond of me based, um, based on my time as a hero."
many voices mumbled in agreement at that, which made him laugh, just the slightest. it made your chest swell with pride he didn't deserve.
"and i really don't blame you. i carried a lot of my immaturity from high school into adulthood. my biggest problem was that i saw heroism as a means to an end, a," he motioned with his hands, trying to find the words, "a stepping stone to being 'the best'--whatever that means. and i got lost in my obsession with my image."
you listened intently, at least half sure that you were listening to a complete stranger talk. the katsuki you knew had nowhere near this much humility.
"with that being said, my first apology goes to you, the people of this beloved city. you deserved someone who had your best interest at heart, and i'm sorry that couldn't be me. but, rest assured, i am very familiar with the current top ten and can say with confidence that they are the heroes you deserve."
you found yourself tearing up at his words, so awestruck by the complete 360 in his persona.
the crowd cheered at his words, as pleasantly surprised with his chanage as you were.
"thank you," he chuckled when the crowd quieted down, "next, i'd like to apologize to my friends and family. they definitely got some of the worst of it. for years, they suggested therapy for the anger that i just couldn't seem to control. and for years, brushed them off, over and over again. i insisted that my anger was fuel for my quirk, when in reality, it was detrimental. dangerous. so, mom, dad, all my friends, i'm sorry it took me so long to take your advice. thank you for standing by me."
you werent sure if the session was being broadcasted, but you sure hope it was. kirishima, mina, sero, and denki deserved to hear it. more than that, you were shocked to discover that he'd also been in therapy. so he really meant it..
another round of applause.
"last, and most important," he sucked in a sharp breath, "i'd like to apologize to the love of my life."
you stilled, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over your head. no, no way.
"i spent three amazing years with the only person i could ever see myself loving. they were the most patient, the most kind person you could ever imagine. they stood by me during every slandering headline, every angry episode, every single ugly moment. they were there."
you covered your mouth and crouched down to the floor, squeezing you eyes shut. no, hell no, you refused to cry.
he exhaled shakily, rubbing a sweaty palm against his jeans, "they were devoted to me, to us. i'd be nothing without their impact on my life, and i've done the worst job at showing it. i," he stammered, scrunching his eyebrows together, "i ruined what we had, and i've never regret anything more. i know all the philanthropy and therapy and apologies in the world can never take back my insensitivity, but i will never stop being sorry, and i swear i'll grow every day."
you had to clamp your hand harder over your mouth to prevent any sniffles or sobs from escaping and alerting everyone to your presence. his words were so genuine, so wholehearted that you knew he truly had changed.
"i'll love them forever, regardless of if they hate me. with that love, i'll destroy any semblance of the douchebag-asshole-monster i used to be." he smiled out to the crowd as a final goodbye, "thank you, everyone. you don't owe me your forgiveness, but i hope you'll consider forgiving me one day."
people clapped, whistled, cheered for him as he turned off the mic.
meanwhile, your heart was racing. you didn't have a single coherent thought in your mind other than the fact that he loved you. he loves you.
he wasn't begging or crying this time, his acts weren't out of desperation. he was completely and totally vulnerable in front of a group of people that he didn't even know included you.
as people flooded out of the library, you shakily pushed yourself to your feet. what now? how could you possibly be expected to walk all the way to your car and drive home in this state of mind?
with a quick breathing technique your therapist taught you, you calmed down enough to get your hands to stop trembling.
katsuki had started helping the security guards pick up and stack the chairs, making small talk with them as they cleaned up the area.
you wiped at your cheeks, hoping they weren't too blotchy. with a quiet breath, you silently crept away from behind the bookshelf and toward the exit.
unfortunately, your far-from ninja-like skills couldn't get past the years of hero instincts engraved in every muscle fiber of katsuki's body.
"y/n?"
you froze, shoulders tensing as you slowly turned around.
"hey, bakugo," you cleared your throat, averting your eyes, "that was, uh, that was nice of you. good job."
there was something undetectable in his face, something you couldn't put your finger on, "oh, thanks, i-" he stepped closer, but stopped when he sensed your hesitance, "i didn't expect to see you here."
"i didn't expect to be here." you said honestly, fidgeting with your fingers, "but i should, uh, probably get going."
he opened and shut his mouth a few times before he sighed and nodded, "okay. but i really meant it, you know? everything i said."
fuck, you were going to cry again. you didn't want to, not in front of him.
"i know." you nodded, "i don't.. hate you, you know? we both had issues that we chose to resolve separately."
"i just wish," he sighed, looking for the words, "i wish that was't the case."
you couldn't hold in your tears anymore, a few cascading down your cheek, but you quickly wiped them away.
"i know." you swallowed hard, trying to prevent your voice from doing that embarrassing, high-pitched crack, "i do too."
he opened his arms, offering a hug and you just couldn't say no. the space was so perfectly carved for you.
you hugged him tight, burying your face into his shoulder.
"i'm so sorry, y/n. i'm sorry for everything." he whispered into your hair, his voice wet with tears, "i never deserved you."
you just cried harder, knuckles white as you gripped onto the back of his shirt. you wanted to speak, to reassure him that it wasn't completely his fault, but you couldn't pause for a breath long enough to say a single word.
instead, the two of you dropped to the ground, arms wrapped around each other with a desperation that you only feel for each other. a once-in-a-lifetime desperation.
the two of you cried and held each other, and somehow you knew everything was going to be okay.
and this concludes the triology! thank you for the overwhelming support on this series that wasn't even meant to be a series!
