— 2.1k. bakugou katsuki x f!reader. established relationship. suggestive, tiny bit of angst, fluffy! inspired by a comment @dollyichi left me!
“d’you think you could pay attention to me now?”
bakugou katsuki shouts from his bed, propping himself up on his pillow. he’s flung the duvet to the other side as he tries to position himself in a way so that only one thing can come from it. his bicep is large and tensed as he rests on his forearm, his knee bent, drawing anyone’s gaze right to his crotch in his tight black underwear. specifically, he wants your gaze on him.
if it’s not his fat cock that will make you strip at the sight, it’s going to be his ripple of abs, each one with old powder pink scars ripping through them. he trained his legs this morning in the gym with deku and he won’t lie, his thighs are looking pretty rideable right now.
“baby, where the fuck are you?”
“coming!”
when you bounce into the room, your hair braided away under a bonnet and one of his old massive t-shirts, bakugou’s grin is electrified.
he gets the exact reaction he wants. you freezing in your step at first, so you can gaze at the length of his body. from his feet to his thighs, to his cock, to his chest, his arms, then face. bakugou’s still has it in him to lightly flush because even though he’s been demanding your attention this evening, he never knows what to do when he gets it.
“oh, this is why you’ve been calling me,” you giggle.
the colour of your irises is only a thin rim now, sucked up by the black of your pupil. you crawl on the bed and bakugou is quick to shuffle around to place his arms under your top and on your bare hips.
“i invited you over and you’ve been on your phone all fuckin’ evening,” he grunts, kissing you first along your neck as you straddle his waist.
“‘m sorry, work’s been hectic. i told you,” you mumble back before a whine tumbles out of you. “oh fuck.”
“yeah, yeah. ‘least i got you now.”
it’s always been so comfortable with bakugou, thrilling in fact. large hands grab at your waist, grinding you down on his hard cock. your breath hitches as he holds your chin to place his lips on yours.
“fuck, you feel so good,” you moan, before humping him on your own accord, sticking your tongue down his throat.
“c’mon, then i wanna eat you from behind,” that has you lifting up off your boyfriend, his bottom lip coated in your saliva. he can read you easily, “what? you want it too? want me to fuck you after that?”
“yes, we haven’t done this since last week,” which is practically years in you and bakugou’s time. you speed up the pace of your hips, his words only making your body burn like a match that has been lit, “you’re laying here like a calendar shoot. wish i took a ph-photo.”
bakugou’s about to reply, offer if you want to record a video when your phone vibrates on his bed. it snatches your attention immediately, your eyes darting to your lock screen that features notification after notification from the same profile picture.
bakugou grabs your phone before you do, holding it down on the bed and you’re unable to pry his fingers off it.
“give it to me! someone’s trying to message me!”
“it’s just work shit again, be here with me, baby,” bakugou’s so close to whining, to just beg you to let him take care of you. he’s missed you in your week apart and what’s a man got to do to have his face between your legs?
you frown, lifting off his crotch and bakugou groans from the lack of heat. “give it to me. now, katsuki.”
bakugou grits his teeth, plopping the phone into your hands. “for fucks sake.”
“don’t swear at me,” you breathe, reading the notifications blowing up your phone, “it’s ochako.”
your boyfriend is in a grump, adjusting himself in his boxers and wondering how you’d react if he started touching himself. jealous? mad? he sneaks his hand down his underwear, his fingers wrapping around his length.
a relieved exhale escapes him as he squeezes but still, your attention is elsewhere.
“oh shit,” you blurt, eyes widening.
bakugou stops mid stroke, scanning your face, “what?”
“did you tell deku what i told you about ochako wanting him to propose within the year?”
bakugou’s body burns for a whole other reason. fuck. fuck.
you’re angry, the grip on your phone tightening. reading through message after message.
“yes but—,”
you’re sitting on your calves, flinging your head back, “katsuki! it was a secret! why would you tell deku?!”
“you never said it was a fuckin’ secret! it just came out when we were talkin’ about you guys.”
you narrow your eyes at him, swatting away the hand that tries to rest on your thigh.
“why would you wanna hear that your girlfriend wants you to propose or they’re leaving you from your best friend? it’s obvious it was a secret!”
you spring up from the bed, tapping away at your phone.
“now ochako is angry at me for telling you!” you groan, hand on your forehead in exasperation, “katsuki!”
bakugou sits up slightly, his hand resting at his abdomen. his dick is still hard, blood hot for a modicum of reasons now. his hand drifts down as you pace the room texting. pouting, then frowning, then sighing.
he shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t. a groan escapes him.
“don’t touch yourself while my friendship is hanging by a thread because of you,” you seethe.
your eyes are narrowed slits, bare feet sunk in his black fluffy rug. you’re cute with your soft thighs out, you’re angry as your nose scrunches at the sight of him.
“i’m fuckin’ sorry i told him. i didn’t think it would jump to this. it’s not my fault their relationship is fucked.”
he’s not seen you in a week, he just wants to wrap you up in his arms and have you come on his tongue. why is nothing going his way tonight.
you didn’t like that answer, you hate it. “that’s a lovely thing to say about our best friends, katsuki.”
you roll your eyes and step out of his bedroom down the hallway to his kitchen.
“fuckin’ fucked it there. good job,” he murmurs to himself, hard as a rock with a pissed off girlfriend next door.
bakugou grabs his phone, completely not surprised to see notifications from deku. paragraph after paragraph asking for advice. half his mind wants to cuss his best friend for ruining his night but the smarter and stronger part of him replies how a good best friend should.
it’s a twenty minute text back and forth with deku while you’re on the phone in the kitchen to ochako. he thinks he’s said the right things. not to worry and that he was going to propose anyway. the ring is literally in the back of his closet.
bakugou pulls on his khaki pyjama bottoms to find you sitting on his counter top, still texting away.
“ass off my counters, doesn’t matter if you’re pretty.” he grumbles and he feels lighter once your eyes are back on him.
you dramatically huff, refusing to move, “apparently deku told ochako that he was going to propose anyway but i’m not allowed to tell you anything again.”
katsuki shrugs, circling around the counter to lean on the sink opposite you. he crosses his arms over his chest, chewing his cheek before dropping insane information. “he’s had the ring in his wardrobe for months now. he wants to propose abroad but hasn’t found time for them both to go away.”
your jaw drops, “what!? really? why didn’t you tell me he was going to propose?”
“‘cause you can’t keep a fuckin’ secret to save your life.” bakugou chuckles, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
“neither can you!”
“i'm tellin' my friend if his girl is about to break up with him. deku needs to learn to keep my name out his mouth.” but a smile is rising on his face at the sight of yours.
“i can’t believe he’s planning on proposing abroad—,” you’re about to start typing on your phone again but bakugou successfully whips it out your hand and steps in close to you.
“this is what i mean, baby.” he says tenderly, “you can’t keep a secret to save your life.”
you huff, placing your hands on his shoulders and slotting his body between your legs. “i wasn’t gonna tell her.”
“who were you about to text then?”
he’s shorter than you in this position, allowing you to look down at your lover’s beautiful face. sharp lines and edges. a wonky nose from breaking it years ago and flat hair from adding nothing to it after his shower.
“hm?” he presses, slipping your phone into his pocket and laying kisses along your jaw. you sigh into him, upper body becoming jelly as your thighs tighten at his waist.
“nobody. nobody at all.”
“good. i’m sure they’re fine now. dealin’ with their relationship when we should be dealin' with ours.”
with that, bakugou lifts you off his counter with his hands under your thighs. you hug him, pressing your face to every part of him you can reach. your nose in his ear, your cheek against his, your lips along his shoulder.
“are you thinking of proposing to me?”
you don't know what possesses the question to leave your mouth, especially considering any negative response to it would destroy you slowly then all at once. but the conversations with your friends about proposals and the timings of it all has made you wonder. as much as you and bakugou are only in the first few years of your relationship, as adults, shouldn’t you be on the same page?
you feel him tense as he walks to his bedroom, bouncing you in his arms to get a proper grip on you. he pauses and you pull away to look at him directly. you jut your bottom lip out in adoration, coos a second away from leaving your lips.
he looks scared, a little insecure but firm in his ideas. hardened eyes, a quiver of his lip that he’s not sure how he’s going to phrase what he says. it makes your playful question, that he could easily worm his way out of with a joke, a momentous moment in your relationship.
“i will be proposing to you. i’m not havin’ you annoy the hell out of me everyday without thinkin’ of the long game.”
he blurts it all in one breath, leaning against a wall in the hallway like this conversation is exhausting but he’s still willing to have it. you note how it would be easier for him to put you down at this point, or even lean you against the wall to give his arms a rest.
“so romantic, ‘suki.” you roll your eyes, palms resting on his collarbones. though he charms you effortlessly, the beautiful bakugou katsuki, your katsuki, saying he will marry you.
“but i’m serious though. i think about it more than i wanna admit,” his rubies bore into you with the intensity of a thousand suns. voice rough and honest, “when you least expect it, with your nosy ass, but it will be the perfect moment.”
that warms you right up, preps you for whatever he’s about to do to you in a few minutes.
“now, that’s romantic,” you beam, kissing his lips and he eagerly pecks you back. “i’m looking forward to it.”
“yeah, yeah. it’s gonna be better than whatever deku does for round cheeks.” then he pauses, frowning in thought, “better than the fuckin’ maldives.”
“wait, he’s taking her to the maldives? oh wow!” you gleam, patting your pockets for your phone till you realise bakugou’s still got it and he’s eying you like he knows you cannot keep a secret. you make a hmpf sound, “anyway, it’s not a competition!”
“but if it was, we’d win.” a smirk slides onto his face.
you sigh, undoubtedly amused. tapping his arm like he’s a winning race horse, “come on, have your way with me then.”
he chuckles, a pep in his step as he starts again to his room, “now i feel like i’ve got to go slow with you, make sweet love after that.”
“no!” you whine, “you don’t, you definitely don’t.”
likes don’t do anything on tumblr! but reblogs, comments and asks mean the world! i delete comments asking for another part. thanks xox
Y’all I am SO excited to finally show this commission that was drawn by the amazing @justpiang on tumblr and twitter, they are literally the sweetest person ever, anyway I’m probably never gonna do a face reveal but I’m exposing myself because this is EXACTLY what I look like. I feel like I never see much fanart of black y/n so I hope this helps a poc see themselves with their fav character. Also I hate summer and love the winter and holidays. That’s why it’s christmas. Hope you all enjoy it! :D
Fandom: My Hero Academia,
Warnings: Angst, Smut, Use of Ground Zero as Bakugo’s Hero Name.
Word Count: 5.7k.
Summary: Hero work leaves little time for anything that isn’t hero work. Bakugo knows that, but it doesn’t make him want you any less.
-> Series Masterlist
It’s hard not to listen to the headboard banging against the too-thin walls that separate your room from your room-mates. It’s even harder to try and sleep while it’s happening.
The TV crackles into life and just about manages to cover the sound of Yoayorozu’s third orgasm. You switch channels and gun the volume, hoping that the squeaky voice of the reporter on screen will provide enough cover. It does: just.
The camera is facing a set of large doors, the sharp outline of the words ‘Hero-Accommodation’ reflecting back through the glass. You’d recognise that scene anywhere. Outside, about thirty floors down there’s a news van parked up hoping to catch a tired pro-hero returning from work and it looks like they’ve snagged one.
The reporters wearing a too low V-neck sweater that exposes her assets all too clearly to the interviewee stood to her left. She blushes, practically falling over herself to lay a gentle hand on the Hero’s bicep. 'Here, I have the one and only Ground Zero. How does it feel to be the number five hero?’
Bakugo’s jaw tenses. It’s almost imperceptible, but you clock it. He manages to answer her questions politely enough, flashing a smile that looks more like bared teeth as the reporter squeezes his arm.
There’s a flash of red steadily rising from the collar of his pressed t-shirt as his irritation threatens to make him snap and you chuckle. Some things really don’t change. Nostalgia wraps itself around your lungs. How long had it been since you’d last seen him? Six months? Twelve? You’d been close back in U.A. Close enough to share a bed. You’d done away with the awkwardness of sleeping side by side during your training, all the late-night study sessions had seen to that. You’d lost count of how many times you had succumbed to fatigue, only to wake-up in one of your dorms, or once on the common rooms couch, nestled under the same duvet. Your little sleep overs had ended along with your time at U.A, though. Graduation had shoved you all unceremoniously into the Hero world and Hero work left little time for anything that wasn’t, well… Hero work.
Another whine, this time from Jiro, almost shakes the wall behind you and you knock the volume up a little more to try and drown her out.
The reporters blushing. Her hand has migrated from his arm to his shoulder, allowing her to press the side of her tit against his chest. Her thumb brushes his skin and you cringe, wondering why the Hell she thought it appropriate to drape herself over him like that on live TV. 'We’ve all heard the rumours of Creati and Earphone Jack, but what we all want to know is does Ground Zero have his eye on anyone special? You can’t really expect us to believe you intend to keep yourself off the market until you take the number one spot, can you?’
You snort. Bakugo’s rather public vow of celibacy had always been something of a talking point. No-one quite believed it. The fact that one of the hottest Pro-Hero’s would actively choose to not only stay single, but forgo sex entirely as to not distract him from taking number one seemed ludicrous. Ludicrous to anyone who didn’t know him of course. Bakugo was more than serious about his little rule.
Rolling his shoulder out of the reporter’s grasp, he bites back the scathing comment tickling the tip of his tongue. ‘I’m married to the job.’
‘Ah.’ The reporter grins, something echoing in her eye as she half-turns towards Bakugo. ‘Speaking of the job. Word is that the commission is holding interviews for a position that could help land one lucky hero the number one spot. Can we assume that you intend to apply?’
‘We’ll see.’ He says like he really means ‘fuck off’.
‘Apparently pro-Hero Deku has already been invited to apply.’
‘Like I said, we’ll see.’ Bakugo growls. The veins running along the underside of his neck have started to bulge, but he doesn’t move, not yet.
‘Well…’ The reporter looks past the camera and snarls before lifting her hand reluctantly from his shoulder. '…I’m told that’s all the time we have for tonight, but I hope you won’t be too much of a stranger -.’
Bakugo groans. He’s already slinking out of frame as the camera cuts.
The TV screen crackles as the image switches from the reporter’s live feed to a brightly-lit studio.
Shaking your head, you slip a hand under your bed-shirt and itch at your side. It’s an old shirt. The print on the front has faded, but you can just about make out the faint white bulk of the skull decal. Somewhere down the line you must have borrowed it from Bakugo and never given it back. The shirt brings another pang of nostalgia and causes you to reach for your phone. You tap out a message, short and sweet:
'Hey stranger, saw your interview. We should meet up soon. Miss you.’
You roll the phone over in your palm, waiting for the screen to glow, for a message to pop up, but it stays black.
There’s a scream from Yaoyorozu that cracks through the noise of the TV. She’s babbling as moan after moan is torn from her throat and you’re half-tempted to slam a fist on the wall and yell. Not that it would do any good.
The idea hits you like you’ve just been zapped by Kaminari. If Bakugo had been in civilian clothes he must have just finished his patrol and been caught by the reporter before he managed to slip into the apartment complex. That meant that three floors above you, he was probably getting in. The prospect of a full-nights sleep makes up your mind. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t slept over before and Bakugo’s little 'no sex’ rule meant you’d be free from the moans that plagued your apartment.
You don’t bother to dress. Instead, you flick off the TV, grab your keys, a small overnight bag and head out.
'I’m coming, fucking Hell.’ Bakugo groans, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes as he fumbles with the lock on the door. 'I swear if you’ve forgotten your keys again, I’m going to skin you alive -.’ He stops dead when he realises that the person in front of him is far too small to be Kirishima. 'What the fuck?’
'Do you ever look at your phone?’ You yawn, hand connecting with his chest to push him back into the apartment. His shirt is warm under your palm and slightly clammy from being pulled over his still damp body.
He allows you to push him backwards, eyebrows knitting together on his forehead. 'Hello to you too.’
'I sent you a message.’
'I didn’t realise you meant soon as in you were on your way over.’
'Didn’t. Jirou and Yaoyorouz…’ You point down, vaguely indicating your apartment. 'Can’t sleep because of all the… y'know.’
'Ah. You want to stay.’ It’s not a question. Leaning over you, Bakugo pushes the door shut and sighs. He can already feel his skin prickling at the idea of you sharing his bed again. 'You know where my room is.’
You pat him on the chest and smile through another yawn, before vanishing into his bedroom. Despite the months of radio silence, you sink back into his bed like you never left.
Bakugo takes a moment before following. His knee hits the mattress and soon after he’s on his back with you curled up beside him. Reaching up, forearm crossing his chest, he presses an index finger to his jugular. The rhythmic thrumming of his heart is quick and makes him bite his tongue.
You’re so close he wouldn’t even need to stretch out to touch you, but he doesn’t. He can’t. He’d convinced himself a long time ago that things were better like this. This way, there were no arguments when he got back late for the millionth time, no heart-breaking phone calls when he told you he’d miss another important event, no watching you cry in the kitchen when you finally shattered because of the neglect.
'Saw your interview.’ You mumble.
The air expands in his chest, almost choking him. 'Yeah?’
'Reporter looked like she wanted to jump you.’
He snorts and sits up, air flowing back into his lungs. Gripping his tank top by the neck, he hauls it over his head, his body suddenly roasting in your presence. He’d forgotten the effect you had on him, how you had his blood boiling, palms sweating – which wasn’t always a good thing.
Peeking over your shoulder, you watch as he wipes a hand on the shirt before dropping it over the side of the bed. His shoulders ripple, the thick ropes of muscle that twist around him from neck to elbow flex as he twists and rolls onto his side. You’ve always known that he was attractive, that men and women alike were all too keen to throw themselves at his feet, but it isn’t until you catch your eyes trailing down the deep groove of his chest that you really begin to understand it.
'What?’ He slips a hand under his pillow, his eyes falling automatically to where your sleep shirt has risen above your ass.
'Nothing.’
'You were staring at me.’
'Shut up and go to sleep.’ You huff and wriggle on the mattress. Lifting your hips, you shift tugging the sleep-shirt higher around your waist, trying to cool the new heat lingering between your thighs. Maybe it was listening to Jirou and Yaoyorozu that had gotten you hot and heavy, that had made your eyes wonder over Bakugo’s thick chest and think about how it would feel to be braced against it as you straddled him, as you slipped down on his – No. You shake yourself, dislodge the hormone addled images of Bakugo from your head and turn your focus back to sleeping. Shimmying, you push your ass backwards in search of a new comfort, but just when you think you’ve found it, a rough hand grabs your hip. 'I can’t get comfy.’ You complain, raising your hip into his palm praying he’ll release you before a new spark ignites in your core.
He doesn’t.
'Stop fucking moving.’ His grip tightens, pushing you into the mattress. There’s a lump in his throat that he can’t seem to get rid of when you try and squirm out of his grip, exposing more of yourself to him. He grits his teeth, feeling the rush of blood that announces its interest in the situation loudly.
Pushing yourself backwards, you attempt to free yourself only to find your back pressed to his front. His length is prominent and now, it’s pressing into the top of your thighs.
'I told you to stop moving.’ He groans, defeated. 'This is the part where you’re supposed to slink off to the other side of the bed and we pretend nothing ever happened.’ He’s unsure if he actually means it. God knows he wants you. He’s wanted you since high school only he’d promised himself, hadn’t he, that he’d never let it get this far. Your Hero schedules barely allowed time to piss, never mind embarking upon a doomed, fledgling romance. Still, the way your ass stayed pushed back against him had him thinking that maybe, he wasn’t the only one who had harboured less than savoury thoughts.
You press your thighs together, trying in vain to halt the growing need that begins to rise through your body. You should make a joke, move away and tease him about his unfortunate biological mishap before promptly forgetting it ever happened, but your body refuses to move.
'Katsuki…’ His name shakes in your mouth and you hope he can hear the one-million questions you’ve forced into it.
Placing a single, brief kiss to your shoulder he silences the alarm bells in his head with his own voice. He rolls his lip between his teeth, the twitching of his cock undeniable. 'What do we do now?’
His lips send a shiver down your spine, causing goose-flesh to cover your arms. You press your hips backwards, rubbing against his length as you submit to the desire ignited by your accidental encounter.
'Fuck.’ His moan is low and vibrates through both his chest and yours.
You repeat the action, anxious to feel his breath in the shell of your ear again. His cock itches the bottom of your back and your heart almost stops as you realise just how big he is.
He releases your hip. Skating his palm over your rib cage, he continues up your body and cups your breast.
Your whole-body prickles at his touch and you wonder why you’d waited so long to let him touch you like this. Still, despite the desperate pulsing of your cunt, somehow, there’s still a small flicker of hesitance that registers its complaints. You have half a mind to stop him. 'What about -.’ You choke on air in-between the moans he coaxes from your throat. 'What about the whole no sex thing.’
The weak whimpers that rise from your throat deprive him of rational thought and make up his mind. There’s no way he can refuse you, no way he can ignore the aching of his cock as you rub against it. He pecks at your shoulder. 'Don’t care, I’mma be number one soon anyway I – I just want… I want you.’
That’s all you need. Letting the pit in your stomach fill with desire, you become submissive to his touch and melt into his rough palms. 'Don’t stop.’ You don’t mean to sound desperate, but you don’t care. Reaching up, you take a fistful of his hair in your hand and pull.
'Say it again.’
You comply, moaning louder as you tug down on his head. 'Don’t stop.’
Bakugo’s hand abandons your breast. His palm slips over your stomach and approaches the smooth skin of your mound. With his fingertips easing their way under the lip of your underwear, he nips at your ear, growling: 'Open.’
You respond obediently, anxiously opening up your hips to provide him with access to your sex.
'God, you’re so fucking wet.’
His fingers glide over your clit, eased by the slick coating your cunt. The sensation causes you to buck. Releasing your grip on his hair, you move to cover his hand with your own to push him lower, willing him to fill you.
That’s all the encouragement he needs. He slips one finger inside you and when it becomes clear that one isn’t enough, he slips in another.
You roll your hips into his hand. His digits stretch you gently, curling up into your walls, easing the aching that he’s caused to build in your cunt. The coil in your stomach tightens impossibly, but it still isn’t enough. You need more. You need all of him. Searching the space behind you, you palm his length through his boxers. 'Katsuki…’ His name tumbles from your mouth all too easily. 'Katsuki, I need – I need you.’
He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to listen to you say his name without getting hard now. He hums, hips pressing into your hand. 'I -.’ He gulps air, trying to calm the hammering in his chest. 'I – haven’t got any…’
'I’m on the pill.’
'You mean -.’ His eyes almost bulge from his head. The thought of slipping into you raw makes something stir in his stomach. 'Can I?’
You nod. 'I want it…’
His hands are back at your underwear in seconds. This time, he tugs the pretty lace over the round of your ass and presses himself to you again. Palm resting against your hip, he pinches the fat and snickers at how your spine bends to accommodate him. 'I haven’t – uh – It’s been a while.’
Twisting to face him, you bring a palm up to rest against his cheek. 'I know. I don’t care…’ Your cunt pulses, body cracking as a whine is ripped violently straight from your stomach. 'Please.’
'Please?’
'Please.’ You moan, louder, pushing back on him.
He hooks an arm under your knee and hoists your leg upwards. Pressing the tip of his cock to your entrance, he wastes no time sliding into you.
Your hand is back in his hair instantly. The stretch he gives you is perfect. Back arching, you encourage him deeper until, at last, he bottoms out. Panting, you struggle to adjust to the throbbing of his cock against your walls.
'That okay?’ He kisses you jaw to stifle the moans attempting to claw their way out of his throat. His fingertips dig into the plush flesh of your knee, a failed attempt to ground himself and distract him from how perfect you feel wrapped around him. He fucking knew you’d feel perfect. He fucking knew it.
'Yes, fuck… Yes.’ Your head rolls back, resting against his shoulder as you bask in the stretch of him. 'Feels… You feel…’ Chest heaving, you struggle to speak as your cunt squeezes around him, salivating, craving the friction he’s withholding.
'You too, Princess,’ he mumbles into your neck before removing himself, only to snap back into you a second later.
Princess? The pet-name makes your stomach fizz, but you don’t have time to dwell on it before the first of many shock waves crashes over you. The second wave brings with it a series of moans that slip from both of your mouths in-between hushed profanities.
Fingers tracing the plain of your throat, he wraps his hand around your neck. With each thrust, he can feel your cunt tighten around him. Your walls constrict him, sending sparks up through his stomach.
Desperate for release, you reach for the puffy skin of your clit. It’s almost obscene how the way he fucks you makes you wish that one of you might have made a move sooner. That he’d just forget that stupid little rule of his for good.
He quickens his pace. Taking the skin of your neck between his teeth, he bites down hard almost touching his teeth together through the skin.
'Fuck, can’t - gonna – fuck… I’m gonna cum.’ Body stuttering, his grip on your throat stiffens before finally relaxing completely. He spills inside of you, hot milky liquid seeping into your cunt and filling you. When he stills, he whimpers against your shoulder. 'Sorry. Couldn’t – couldn’t hold back.’
You’re about to turn to him, to sooth his ego when he presses your shoulder to the bed and moves to hover over you.
He kisses your collarbone, tone almost pleading as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes. 'Let me – want to make you cum…’ Pausing just long enough for a breathless conformation to leave your mouth, he slats his lips against yours.
The kiss is soft. He slips his tongue into your mouth and tastes you delicately before pulling away. His lips reattach to your chin, his teeth nip at your neck and then, he’s dragging up your sleep-shirt and suckling against a nipple. It’s sinful how the flat of his tongue rubbing your breast makes you keen. It causes your stomach to tense, your shoulders to curl forcing you further into his mouth.
With one hand balling up your shirt, holding it to your neck and exposing you to him, he lets the other slip down your body. He wastes no time prodding at your entrance with thick fingers and groans when he feels his own release seep over his hand mixed with your arousal. Sinking in, he beckons you to orgasm with a flex of his index finger. He works quickly, diligently, listening to the hitching of your breath and the string of helpless moans that trickle from your mouth when he hits the right spot inside of you. He learns from your body, reacts to your pleasure and controls you effortlessly. Sucking at a nipple, he curls a finger inside you, pressing his thumb to your clit and moans into your skin.
That’s it. The coil snaps. Your muscles seize causing you to curl in on yourself, body pulling against his hold only to be pinned down with a harsher grip. You swear you see stars as you squeeze shut your eyes; letting your vision be consumed by the static on the back of your eyelids. You moan unreservedly, letting your hips stutter into his palm.
'Good girl,’ he soothes, raking his teeth along the already blooming bruise on your breast.
The simple note of praise, from him no less, sends a shiver across your shoulders and a whole new sensation creeps into your stomach. One you’re already craving more of.
He chuckles at the sudden fluster that takes hold of him as you come down from your high. There’s something about how you look with your pupils blow out that makes his stomach flip, but he silences the emotion before it can take root and cause havoc. To distract himself, he kisses your shoulder and slides his fingers from you with a hiss. He can’t help slipping them into his mouth. Something inside of him is desperate to taste you, to have you linger on his tongue and slip down his throat. So, he does. He licks himself clean, swallowing eagerly as your sweetness infests his mouth.
'Fuck.’ You breathe, watching him lap at his own fingers.
He cocks an eyebrow, removes his hand from his mouth and sinks back to the mattress facing you. There’s a comfort between you, something soft and lingering that makes his muscles relax, despite the fact he’s just rearranged your guts. 'I have a question.’
You roll onto your side, wincing at the ache he’s left between your thighs and slide your hand under the pillow. 'Shoot.’
'Is that my t-shirt?’
You pull at the t-shirt. 'Yeah, I think so.’
'Thief.’
'I have a question.’ You copy his tone and poke at his shoulder. There are a thousand questions rushing through your head as you struggle to reconceptualise your friendship with
the sting of his fingers fading on your clit. You choose one. 'Have you ever thought about… About us, y'know… Before this, I mean…’
'Fucking?’ He fills the gap in your sentence easily, flicking up his eyebrows again.
You nod.
He chews his lip, hoping you can’t see how his chest flushes red in the dark. 'So what if I have?’
'When?’
'School,’ He shrugs.
You bite back the smile that rises to your lips. 'Not any other time then?’
'I didn’t say that.’
An unfamiliar hoard of butterflies begin to beat their wings against your ribs. 'So…’ You press.
'Why’re you interrogating me all of a sudden?’ He snaps. This was all getting a little too cosy for his liking. What the fuck had he gotten himself into? Cursing himself for letting his cock take the lead, he rolls his lip between his teeth and sighs.
You push yourself up onto an elbow. 'You don’t have to answer, arsehole.’
He rolls his head to face you again, ignoring the hiccough that lurches in his throat as his eyes catch yours. 'Of course, I’ve thought about it. I’m a guy, aren’t I?’
'What’s that got to do with anything?’
He shrugs. If you were going to keep on questioning him like this, he was sure to admit to something he would regret. 'My turn.’
'I thought this was an interrogation, not twenty-fucking questions.’
Suppressing a smile, he forces his eyebrows to furrow on his forehead. It’s nice, this, whatever this is and part of him hates it. 'You’re lucky I’m tired or I’d blast you straight through the door.’
'Is that a promise?’ You wink.
'Fucking sex pest.’
'I’m a sex pest?’ You snort. 'I’m sorry, but who’s hard-on did I unceremoniously back into before?’
'Same hard-on you were begging for.’ He feels his soft palate with his tongue before imitating one of your breathy moans. 'Please, Katsuki, please.’
You grind your teeth. 'Listen here, you bastard.’
Shifting awkwardly, he swallows more of the warmth spreading through his chest and ignores the urge to take your chin in his hand to kiss you. You’re peering up at him, head tilted lazily into the pillow looking so damn perfect in his bed, with his cum dripping down your thighs and – that’s when reality jams itself down his throat.
Hero work and relationships never did get along comfortably. There was always someone else to save, another late-night patrol, another emergency demanding his attention. It’s a never-ending cycle of having too much to do and too little time. Too little time for you, for whatever he had just started. 'You’re a prick,’ he mutters.
'Takes one to know one.’ You shoot back.
'You’ve got me there.’ Checking his phone on the night-stand, he groans. 'It’s almost three.’
'I should clean up…’ You lift from the bed at the same time he does.
'Let me…’ Twisting, he helps you from the bed and leads you gingerly into his en-suite. He spends the next few minutes rubbing gentle circles in your skin with a warm cloth while you perch on the edge of the bath. On his knees in front of you, he works in silence, washing the evidence from your body. When your body is dry again, you return the favour.
He keeps his eyes closed when you bathe him, letting you move him at your whim. You smooth over his hip, rub the cloth against the left ditch of his 'v’ and watch his breathing pick up. His cock twitches and you’re tempted to take it into your mouth, to drag your tongue down the thick vein hidden underneath, but he reads your mind and stops you.
One eye opens, a smile tugging his lip as he reaches for you and pulls you back to your feet. Rationality has returned to him and now, all he feels is panic. Panic for what has just happened. Panic because he knows what happens next, he always known and he fucked you anyway. 'We should sleep.’
You yawn an agreement and put down the cloth before venturing back into the bedroom and settling back against the mattress. Not long after he settles too. His back presses against yours, his calves parting just enough for you to slip an ankle through the gap.
You fall asleep easily and when you awake to the light seeping into his room through the blinds, he’s gone. There’s a note on the night-stand. It tells you that there was an early-hour emergency that had needed him on scene and he hadn’t wanted to wake you. He’d ended it: 'Had to go to work – sorry.’
Bakugo’s thighs ache as he climbs the stairs to his apartment. The muscles sting with each step, although he’s not sure if it’s because of the hours spent hauling civilians from a burning factory or the fact he got laid for the first time in almost four years last night.
What he does know, is that he’s thankful to be home. Hand reaching out to twist the doorknob of his front door, he pauses to haul in a breath.
It’s almost mid-day, so he’s pretty sure you’ve gone home, but something sinks in his stomach at the thought of returning to an empty bed. He squashes it in favour of thinking of the cold shower he’s about to throw himself into. Throwing open the door, he’s stopped dead before he can get further that the living room.
'So.’ Kirishima is cooking, which is already a worry, but it’s the shit-eating grin etched onto his face that makes Bakugo groan.
'What?’
Kirishima’s eyebrows dance up and down on his forehead as he flips a spatula in his hand. He drops it, collects it off of the ground and flips it again, catching it successfully. 'Imagine my surprise when I got home from patrol this morning and -.’
'Get to the point, I’m fucking sweating.’ Bakugo sighs. He already knows where this is going and he’d rather get the obligatory teasing over quickly rather than dwell on it.
'You finally fucked, huh.’
'Something like that, yeah.’
'So.’ Kirishima pops his hip, digging a large hand into his pelvis.
'What do you mean, so?’
'I mean so… Have you told her -.’
Bakugo grits his teeth.
‘So I’m going to assume you’ve not told her about the interview either?’
'No and I'm not going to and if you do, I will fillet you and serve you to Kaminari and Sero with a side of rice.’ He points at his room-mate, glaring as his eyebrows flatten over his eyes.
Laughing, Kirishima lifts his hands in surrender. He turns his attention to whatever the Hell is currently burning in his frying pan and panics for a second before sighing. Shoulders sagging, he pokes the crispy remains of his lunch with the spatula and grimaces. 'I’m just saying, you’ve kind of opened Pandora’s box now, y'know.’
'What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’ Trying to ignore the blackened and charred contents of Kirishima’s pan as he tips it into the bin, Bakugo resists the urge to just blast Kirishima in the face to get him to stop talking. It’s not like it would do any good anyway. He’s done it before. Kirishima’s reflexes where almost as good as his own and he’d certainly have activated his quirk before he even managed to get near him.
'Well you like her right… I mean you’ve always liked her, but you were an idiot and then you decided to do that whole… What d'you call it?’
Bakugo mumbles. 'No Sex Before Number One.’
'That’s it. You decided to do that, but you’re still number five and now you’ve fucked so.’ He mimes opening a box with his hands. 'You see…’
'No.’ Bakugo rolls his eyes. 'No, I don’t see.’
Kirishima shrugs, a smile still playing at his lip.
Storming across the room, Bakugo almost makes it to his bedroom before his legs are locking underneath him and he’s spinning on his heel. He knows he’s only been hooked by Kirishima’s teasing because there’s a grain of truth to what he’s saying, but his retort is flying from his mouth before he can stop it. 'It’s just sex.’
'Okay,’ Kirishima smiles, nodding.
'Dude, we’ve fucked. We’re still friends and it’s not like anything’s changed. It’ll be fine.’ There’s a desperation to his voice that he doesn’t immediately recognise as denial.
'Really, that's what you're going with?' Kirishima gives up on cooking and throws open a cupboard, retrieving a packet of instant ramen from one of the shelves. He lifts his eyebrows, challenging Bakugo to say something else dismissive.
'Oh, fuck off.’ Bakugo huffs. 'You know I can’t.’ He can feel his walls beginning to shake, the lump in his throat lifting and allowing the emotions he’s being trying to bottle-up to slip to the surface. 'It’d be a fucking mess. I haven’t got time for -.’
'You know I think your just scared of your own emotions, right?.’ Kirishima shrugs 'I think you’d make a great couple, but it’s your loss.’ He busies himself with the ramen, pretending that they haven’t had this conversation before.
'She deserves someone who’s got all the time in the world for her.’
'So make time.’
Bakugo growls. 'You’re taking the piss, if it was that easy don’t you think I would have just made time already?’
'I’ll make time for her then.’ Kirishima’s watches as Bakugo’s jaw tenses, watches the vein that begins to pulse below the skin of his forehead. He’s pushing his luck and he knows it, but unfortunately for Bakugo he doesn’t care. 'We get on, she thinks I’m charming.’
'You wouldn’t dare.’ Bakugo’s mouth runs dry.
'Can’t expect her to stay single forever, dude.’ Kirishima frowns lifting a spoonful of ramen to his mouth. 'If you’re not going to shoot your shot, might as well step aside for someone who’s going to treat her right.’ Bakugo freezes up and he wonders if he’s gone too far with his goading.
'Do what you want.’
'Are you serious?’ Eye’s widening, Kirishima huffs shaking his head. 'You’ve got nothing to say? At all? You’re just going to let me try and fuck the girl you’ve been desperate for since -.’
'Told you, I don’t care.’ Legs unlocking, Bakugo makes for his room. His head burns, the image of you and Kirishima lips-locked turns his stomach.
'You’re a stubborn bastard sometimes, you know!’ Kirishima’s voice follows him even as he slams shut the door to his bedroom and collapses against the wood.
His eyes drift to the bed. It’s been made, the duvet neatly tucked back into place. No-one would suspect that he had fucked you for the first time right there, in that bed only a few hours ago. He swallows, trying in vain to block out the faint echoes of your voice in his head.
'It was just sex… Just sex, it didn’t mean anything…’ He mumbles under his breath, hand covering his eyes as he tries to manually massage the images of you panting as he pressed into you again and again and again from his brain, but the more he tries to push you from his head, the more he thinks about it.
Hand reaching for his pocket, he pauses, hovering over his phone. What would he even say to you? Would you want to talk to him? What if Kirishima was being serious and the next time he saw you, it was slinking out of the bedroom opposite his. He’s about to reach in, to make up some shitty excuse to see you again when his phone buzzes.
There’s a hostage situation on the south side that needs his attention. Everything else would have to wait. Sighing, he pushes himself off of the door. Hero work left little time for anything else, there was always someone else to save, another late-night patrol, another emergency demanding his attention – another thing keeping him away from you.
Based off the recent TikTok trend: I could be a good mother, and I want to be your wife”
You pressed a hand to the soft wiggly stomach of your baby, the one you shared with Bakugou her giggles ringing through your ears as you turned to look at your husband, his gold ring glittering in the morning sun. It was picture perfect, and then your alarm went off. The whole day you replayed the dream in your head. You had never really thought deeply about kids, sure you had thought about having a few Rugrats in passing just like everyone in their 20’s did but now you were 30, Katsuki 32 most of your friends had already gotten married and started families it seemed you two were on an island. But maybe it was time to change that. Throughout the week Katsuki had noticed something off about you, you lingered in the baby asiles of stores and when he questioned you, you brushed him off saying you had simply wanted to pick something up for Todoroki as he had recently had his second baby. But then you started to deflate any time you saw a child out in Public or a proposal. You couldn't even watch love is blind and that was your show together. Finally katsuki couldn't take it anymore
“What the hell is up with you woman?”
You looked up from your plate picking at your food “what do you mean.”
“You've been actin’ all depressed and shit since last week so spill it.” You breathed out a heavy sigh just wanting to avoid the topic. After all Katsuki was just as focused on his career as ever and you were too. You imagined that's why he was drawn to you in the first place, someone who was working towards something in their own life and wouldn't always be up his ass.
“I'm fine katsuki.”,
“Don't start with that shit, whenever you call me Katsuki I know it's bad.” You gave a weak smile as he sat in the chair across from you.
“You know me so well, nothing gets past you, huh.” He gave a noncommittal grunt clearly waiting for you to continue. “It's just I had a dream.” He leaned closer and you took a breath before continuing.
“I had- we had a baby and we were married and she…she was so perfect Katsuki, everything was.” You felt embarrassed as tears started to slip down your cheeks.
“Hey cmon now, no need to cry.”
“its stupid but I just miss her. I-I would be a good mother, and I want to be your wife but I know you don't want that.” Now he was shocked
“What the hell makes you think that?”
“L-lately you've been so focused on your career and taking more long missions. And every time one of our friends has a baby you say they're wasting their time.”
“Tch, their babies aren't Bakugos. Raising my kid ain't a waste of time.” He said bringing you in for a hug. “Of course I want those things for you, I just didn't want to rush you into anything you weren't ready for.” You two sat there for a few minutes in the low lamp light, huddled together at the kitchen table.
“You really think I'd be a good mother.”
“The best.” And so that night Katsuki did what you both wanted and made your dream come true.
Based off the recent TikTok trend: I could be a good mother, and I want to be your wife”
You pressed a hand to the soft wiggly stomach of your baby, the one you shared with Bakugou her giggles ringing through your ears as you turned to look at your husband, his gold ring glittering in the morning sun. It was picture perfect, and then your alarm went off. The whole day you replayed the dream in your head. You had never really thought deeply about kids, sure you had thought about having a few Rugrats in passing just like everyone in their 20’s did but now you were 30, Katsuki 32 most of your friends had already gotten married and started families it seemed you two were on an island. But maybe it was time to change that. Throughout the week Katsuki had noticed something off about you, you lingered in the baby asiles of stores and when he questioned you, you brushed him off saying you had simply wanted to pick something up for Todoroki as he had recently had his second baby. But then you started to deflate any time you saw a child out in Public or a proposal. You couldn't even watch love is blind and that was your show together. Finally katsuki couldn't take it anymore
“What the hell is up with you woman?”
You looked up from your plate picking at your food “what do you mean.”
“You've been actin’ all depressed and shit since last week so spill it.” You breathed out a heavy sigh just wanting to avoid the topic. After all Katsuki was just as focused on his career as ever and you were too. You imagined that's why he was drawn to you in the first place, someone who was working towards something in their own life and wouldn't always be up his ass.
“I'm fine katsuki.”,
“Don't start with that shit, whenever you call me Katsuki I know it's bad.” You gave a weak smile as he sat in the chair across from you.
“You know me so well, nothing gets past you, huh.” He gave a noncommittal grunt clearly waiting for you to continue. “It's just I had a dream.” He leaned closer and you took a breath before continuing.
“I had- we had a baby and we were married and she…she was so perfect Katsuki, everything was.” You felt embarrassed as tears started to slip down your cheeks.
“Hey cmon now, no need to cry.”
“its stupid but I just miss her. I-I would be a good mother, and I want to be your wife but I know you don't want that.” Now he was shocked
“What the hell makes you think that?”
“L-lately you've been so focused on your career and taking more long missions. And every time one of our friends has a baby you say they're wasting their time.”
“Tch, their babies aren't Bakugos. Raising my kid ain't a waste of time.” He said bringing you in for a hug. “Of course I want those things for you, I just didn't want to rush you into anything you weren't ready for.” You two sat there for a few minutes in the low lamp light, huddled together at the kitchen table.
“You really think I'd be a good mother.”
“The best.” And so that night Katsuki did what you both wanted and made your dream come true.
I don't think this is that good but I got inspiration from that clip of Hoziers new song. You know that piece "you're too sweet for me."
After Kirishima proposed to Mina, Katsuki knew he was gonna break your heart. He listened, that day Mina came over and squealed about the ring and how romantic it was and how she cried when Kiri had gotten on his knee and gave some sappy speech about his love for her. He noticed you looking wistfully at the ring, even though you hugged Mina not letting an ounce of sadness show on your face. Only a few days after that it was Katsukis birthday and he wasn't expecting much just you, him and maybe a small group of friends, he couldn't be more wrong. You had spent weeks meticulously planning a big birthday. There was anything he could ever want a big cake, his favorite flavor of course and low calorie. Spicy food that you had cooked yourself because you knew he didn't trust anyone elses food to be good, all his friends in fact his entire class it almost felt like a reunion. Katsuki knew you would do anything for him but hell you were a busy law student finding the time to do all this most of been a sacrifice so even if a big party wasn't necessarily his style he appreciates it, he loves the attention after all. Pretty soon the party was winding down with people splitting up and talking, all the girls of course ooing and awwing at Minas new ring.
“Who's next in line.” Mina asked playfully
“For what?” Jirou said confused
“Marriage obviously.” Everyone was silent then
“Definitely Y/n” Ochako piped up. Your mouth dropped a little and your face got hot.
“Oh, I don't know.” You tried to brush it off.
“What you don't want to.” She pressed
“I do but I'm not rushing Kats.”
“If you could… would you want to.”
“Well, yes I would. I think we'll get married really soon but don't tell, it's our secret guys.” But it wasn't your secret because over the mindless chatter of Izuku praising Kirishima for taking the next step katsuki had heard you. Marriage, soon? Katsuki had just turned 24 and he was already in the top 10 hero chart nothing was gonna stop his ascension to number 1, nothing. Soon enough after copious amounts of drink and cake everyone was ready to go home and you waved to all of them at the door promising to see them again soon, and to start helping Mina with the wedding and Katsuki watched you. How your face was sincere in wishing well to everyone of them, you were just too sweet. When all of them has disappeared against the backdrop of the city you turned to Katsuki. “I have one more surprise”
“Don't tell me my mothers in the other room.” He groaned, you snickered
“Of course not.” You scampered to the fridge and reached far far in the back pulling out a little container that had a large Dynamight theme cupcake smack dab in the middle. You took it out tenderly and pulled a red envelope from your pocket, before sticking one single candle in the treat and lighting. “Just you and me, happy birthday Katsuki.” You sang to him then the whole song more sensual and sweet then upbeat and happy this time, different from when you were around others. It was always like that Katsuki, so brash and loud in public, was so different around you all gentle teasing and soft touches. You read the letter in it detailed were the reasons you loved him, not all of them you had told him that could never fit on the page. As you continued a certain line jumped out at him. “I can't wait to spend the rest of our lives together, I wouldn't want it with anyone else.” Katsuki cupped your face because then he knew you two were done. You didn't deserve a life with him waiting up at all hours of the night wondering if he would even survive to come home. Worrying if someone would kidnap you to get to him. As he looked into your big sparkling eyes he knew you were just too sweet and even so he kissed you. He wanted to feel you one last time.
The next morning you woke up sore. Katsuki always wore you out. Two things stood out as you come out of your bleary haze, for one Katsuki was cooking breakfast, evident by the smell wafting from the kitchen and second there was a suitcase packed and ready to go by the door. You frowned then.
“Kats, I thought it was another month before you had to go on that week-long mission.”
“It is.” He said flipping a pancake
“Ok so why do you have your suitcases out.” You said noticing another one by the front door. He sighed before plating the food he made and pouring you a cup of juice
“Sit down.” You had never seen that look in his eyes and you were starting to get scared
“Kat, what-”
“We're done.” He said looking straight into your face.
“With what.”
“Us, this relationship…it's done.” Your heart fell into your ass and you were unable to breath for one second then two then…
“I- is it something I did, whatever it is I promise if we just talk about it we can-” he cut you off reaching for your cheek and he held it there in his palm getting a long last look at you before a small chuckle escaped from him.
“You didn't do anything wrong. You can keep the apartment. You're just… you're too sweet for me.” and with that he grabbed his bags and walked out. No matter how much it hurt he was saving you really, from a life of misery to him. But what katsuki couldn't understand is none of it mattered as long as you were together you could make anything sweet.
reminder that 30 isn’t old, it’s very normal to not accomplish everything in your 20s, and that it is never too late to learn that thing you’ve always wanted to learn. you’re always growing. that’s a good thing.
I don't think this is that good but I got inspiration from that clip of Hoziers new song. You know that piece "you're too sweet for me."
After Kirishima proposed to Mina, Katsuki knew he was gonna break your heart. He listened, that day Mina came over and squealed about the ring and how romantic it was and how she cried when Kiri had gotten on his knee and gave some sappy speech about his love for her. He noticed you looking wistfully at the ring, even though you hugged Mina not letting an ounce of sadness show on your face. Only a few days after that it was Katsukis birthday and he wasn't expecting much just you, him and maybe a small group of friends, he couldn't be more wrong. You had spent weeks meticulously planning a big birthday. There was anything he could ever want a big cake, his favorite flavor of course and low calorie. Spicy food that you had cooked yourself because you knew he didn't trust anyone elses food to be good, all his friends in fact his entire class it almost felt like a reunion. Katsuki knew you would do anything for him but hell you were a busy law student finding the time to do all this most of been a sacrifice so even if a big party wasn't necessarily his style he appreciates it, he loves the attention after all. Pretty soon the party was winding down with people splitting up and talking, all the girls of course ooing and awwing at Minas new ring.
“Who's next in line.” Mina asked playfully
“For what?” Jirou said confused
“Marriage obviously.” Everyone was silent then
“Definitely Y/n” Ochako piped up. Your mouth dropped a little and your face got hot.
“Oh, I don't know.” You tried to brush it off.
“What you don't want to.” She pressed
“I do but I'm not rushing Kats.”
“If you could… would you want to.”
“Well, yes I would. I think we'll get married really soon but don't tell, it's our secret guys.” But it wasn't your secret because over the mindless chatter of Izuku praising Kirishima for taking the next step katsuki had heard you. Marriage, soon? Katsuki had just turned 24 and he was already in the top 10 hero chart nothing was gonna stop his ascension to number 1, nothing. Soon enough after copious amounts of drink and cake everyone was ready to go home and you waved to all of them at the door promising to see them again soon, and to start helping Mina with the wedding and Katsuki watched you. How your face was sincere in wishing well to everyone of them, you were just too sweet. When all of them has disappeared against the backdrop of the city you turned to Katsuki. “I have one more surprise”
“Don't tell me my mothers in the other room.” He groaned, you snickered
“Of course not.” You scampered to the fridge and reached far far in the back pulling out a little container that had a large Dynamight theme cupcake smack dab in the middle. You took it out tenderly and pulled a red envelope from your pocket, before sticking one single candle in the treat and lighting. “Just you and me, happy birthday Katsuki.” You sang to him then the whole song more sensual and sweet then upbeat and happy this time, different from when you were around others. It was always like that Katsuki, so brash and loud in public, was so different around you all gentle teasing and soft touches. You read the letter in it detailed were the reasons you loved him, not all of them you had told him that could never fit on the page. As you continued a certain line jumped out at him. “I can't wait to spend the rest of our lives together, I wouldn't want it with anyone else.” Katsuki cupped your face because then he knew you two were done. You didn't deserve a life with him waiting up at all hours of the night wondering if he would even survive to come home. Worrying if someone would kidnap you to get to him. As he looked into your big sparkling eyes he knew you were just too sweet and even so he kissed you. He wanted to feel you one last time.
The next morning you woke up sore. Katsuki always wore you out. Two things stood out as you come out of your bleary haze, for one Katsuki was cooking breakfast, evident by the smell wafting from the kitchen and second there was a suitcase packed and ready to go by the door. You frowned then.
“Kats, I thought it was another month before you had to go on that week-long mission.”
“It is.” He said flipping a pancake
“Ok so why do you have your suitcases out.” You said noticing another one by the front door. He sighed before plating the food he made and pouring you a cup of juice
“Sit down.” You had never seen that look in his eyes and you were starting to get scared
“Kat, what-”
“We're done.” He said looking straight into your face.
“With what.”
“Us, this relationship…it's done.” Your heart fell into your ass and you were unable to breath for one second then two then…
“I- is it something I did, whatever it is I promise if we just talk about it we can-” he cut you off reaching for your cheek and he held it there in his palm getting a long last look at you before a small chuckle escaped from him.
“You didn't do anything wrong. You can keep the apartment. You're just… you're too sweet for me.” and with that he grabbed his bags and walked out. No matter how much it hurt he was saving you really, from a life of misery to him. But what katsuki couldn't understand is none of it mattered as long as you were together you could make anything sweet.
you're not stuck. it's not over. you can claw yourself out again and again. find strength in yourself. find strength in others whom you can trust. the fight isn't over until you're dead.
Don't get him wrong Katsuki never thought he'd be the type to go after the 20 year old intern, he never had a thing for college girls and was of the mindset that men should stick to those their age, until you came into his life. Katsuki was already 30 and hardly had a life outside of work eat, sleep, work, repeat that was his modo. You thought it was weird how he never came out for drinks with the rest of the agency that is until you learned no one had ever asked him for whatever reason then you just became incredibly sad for him. Sure he could be arrogant and hot headed but he had calmed down a lot since his UA days since you fawned over him at his old highschool clips when you were the same age yourself.
"wanna come for drinks."
"hah." He grumbled barley looking up from his paperwork
"we're all going out for drinks you should come."
"yeah I'll pass." You frowned looking at his brow furrowed in concentration. You don't know what possessed you but you snatched the paper right from under him and held it up. Even more surprising he didn't fire you on the spot.
"You need to get out old man, have some fun and stop acting like you're sixty."
"who the hell you calling old man you shitty brat." You just giggled at his insult.
"Come on if you come out. I'll do the paperwork have it on your desk by monday, promise."
"why the hell you care so much, you tryna get me drunk woman."
"No, I just want you to have some fun."
"Well if it'll make you shut up I'll go just this once. Don't get used to it." And so he did. Everyone was surprised when Bakugo came to the dingy bar. Though he hardly drank you weren't a miracle worker. But if you were really looking for it you could see the slight smile on his face watching his friends dance, and sing their hearts out on the karaoke machine.
"You having fun you old man." You said giggly as you sat next to him.
"No." You frowned at his straight forward words until he finally let out a chuckle bringing his drink to his lips. Not alcohol you noticed.
"I'm kidding kid, it's a little fun." You beamed then and Katsuki couldn't help but want to keep that pretty smile on your face.
"so you'll come out with us next time?"
"Don't push your luck. Is there anything I can get for you"
"oh you don't have to do that." You waived him off.
"I know I don't have to, I want to so spit it out."
"Well this bar sells my favorite candy, you should try it." He called the bartender over and ordered a bowl of the prepackaged sweets. He scowled when the bowl was presented
"You know how bad this shit is for you."
"I don't have to worry about my physique unlike you Dynamight. Don't tell me you forgot I'm not training to be a hero."
"Hah, it ain't about your body brat it's about your damn health"
"well you didn't have to buy it."
"whatever just enjoy it." There was a pregnant pause before he spoke again. "It's Katsuki."
"what."
"you can call me katsuki." You smiled, nodding your head and continued talking to your hot headed boss through the night. Before you knew it, it was 2AM and time for you to go home.
"damnit I missed the last train." Katsuki glanced over at you as everyone exited the bar. The other employees seemed to all stumble in different directions.
"You can't get an Uber."
"Are you kidding on a Friday night it's probably expensive as fuck I'll just walk home I'm not that drunk."
"Get in the car."
"What." You turned towards him and saw the headlights on his car flashing.
"No really I'm okay, Dyna-... Katsuki."
"what kinda hero would I be if I let a pretty drunk girl wander the streets all by herself now get in the car."
"Not drunk." You grumbled walking to his car choosing to ignore the fact that he called you pretty and how your heart fluttered at his words. The ride was peaceful watching the city go by and listening to the low tone of the radio. Katsuki was a gentleman driving you home and making sure he watched you walk into your dingy apartment before leaving.
True to your word on Monday you had his paperwork ready and you were unexpectedly surprised with a note on your desk along with a bag of the candy you had at the bar.
"Don't eat too much at once kid or your teeth will rot out."
You looked to your boss's office the glass windows allowing you to smile at him and give a thumbs up. Katsuki gave a curt nod and went back to preparing for patrol Katsuki was never one of those guys that would go for younger girls, but he could make an exception for you.
…..not even six hours later i got an offer of a well paying full time long-term job with free room and board in queens in nyc, allowing me independence and a way to escape an abusive situation and an unhealthy environment
likes charge reblogs cast, folks, this is the good luck post
the last time I reblogged this post right before I got a great job, in a permanent work-from-home position, with benefits, retirement, and a salary literally 3x what I was making before, doing something I really like.
➪ warnings/tags: timeskip! pro hero! bkg (late twenties), horse farm setting (pls refer to my notes), use of the first person in diary entries, reader has a quirk, slow burn, slight enemies to lovers, angst and arguments, reader injuries (bc bkg is dumb), happy ending (pinky promise), a lot of slang, accents and swearing (broken english, almost), mentions of death from quirk incidents, mentions of animal death, oral sex (f. receiving), loss of virginity, doll as a pet name, reader has a whole lot of personality, improper science (nitroglycerin as a cheat code lol), bkg is ultra soft with a bleeding heart and I can't think of anything else
➪ notes: alright. let me start by saying this work is the equivalent of me walking into a room of people, stark naked, and just going like: "hi, it's me!" genuinely, that is this work. the experiences touched upon in this fic are all from real ones I've had working with horses growing up. it's a very sacred part of my life and world, and recently I've felt myself drifting from it because of the career path I've decided to take. so, I wrote this because I felt like I'd be hiding from myself if I didn't, and I wanted to face it all without running away as I'd planned. honestly, I just missed it all so much. wow, that sounds dramatic. it most definitely is. anyway, this work might be confusing to read at some points, and that's intended. horse slang, if that's what we're calling it, is used heavily without much explanation. it's because you're supposed to read this fic from katsuki's perspective, almost—it shouldn't always make sense. but the human parts will, I hope. regardless, I hope it hits all just the same. please enjoy. this one's from my heart to yours. mwah.
➪ a/n: the biggest hug, kiss, and thank you to oz for being there every step of the way through this one. it was a fifteen-hour escapade of madness. love you.
Wednesday
It felt like a storm was coming, but it didn't. Just hot, muggy, and gross. The horses felt the same. Misty started pawing at the gate after an hour in the pasture, and like the trendsetter she is, all the others followed in tearing up the grass. She's a diva, but I don't blame her. If I was forced to bear three foals at my prime age and deal with kids kicking on my back and pulling at my mouth all day, I'd probably be the same or worse. Poor thing—all of them, really. Poor animals only learning to live after they're finally too old to actually do it. People are evil, and horses are horses, I guess.
They know it too. Each time I get a new horse, I have to think they do. They give me this look before stepping off the trailer, this "You're my last stop, aren't you?" kind of glare, and then drop and roll in their stall like they're fluffing their grave. Whatever. Gotta be better than real retirement homes with real ass people. People get aggressive and senile when they're old, and horses just get... happy, for once. No pressure on their back, a mouth full of overgrown grass, and happy. Lucky fuckers. I wanna grow old and happy and not throw shoes at a nurse because I think she might be Satan in my bedroom, trying to shove a pill down my throat. How ridiculous. I don't want to grow old. I'll let one of these horses whip me into the ground before it happens. The last rodeo, and maybe one of the barn cats could—
This is getting grotesque. Anyway, it felt like a storm was coming, but it didn't. One is most definitely coming tomorrow, though. Gotta bring the horses in early, or they might get rain rot, and that's always the worst.
Thursday
It rained and poured. Blondie dared to look at me like it was my fault. Horrible first impression. Who the fuck walks into someone's barn and goes, "It smells like shit in here"? Like, yeah? Yeah, it does. It's a barn, asshole. I really didn't think Shouta was serious when he asked if someone could crash here, but then, of course, he's always serious, so I guess that makes me the idiot. Brought him down in his black city car, tossed him out like bad news, then dipped. He was probably too pissed to come out—got his tires all muddy and shit. I don't know why people expect a barn to not be a fucking barn. So now I have twenty-four horses and a big slab of a certified prick in the guest room to watch over, all thanks to being nice and saying yes. I'll never be nice again. I've learned my lesson.
At the very least, he's kind of cute in a grumpy puppy sort of way. He speaks at full volume, though, so that was our first problem. Either the horses are spooking, or my ears will start ringing, and I can't handle both. He finally shut up after he realized I wasn't going to fight back. You gotta feel dumb yelling at the lady letting you stay in her house surrounded by a bunch of horses staring right back at you. I hope he felt dumb. Asshole.
Then he got all quiet and weird and started backing near Gus's dutch door, and I almost let him bite him. It could have been funny, but then I remembered he's a firecracker and would probably blow Gussie's face off with his fucking palm by accident. A ticking time bomb. Blond and ticking and pissed off at the rain. At the very least, he's cute.
Friday
I'm allowed to call him Katsuki. That's either a privilege, or maybe he doesn't want to be reminded that he's a hero while surrounded by the fields and the wind whispering that it doesn't give a fuck who he is. When he's here, he's just the guy I spent an hour explaining how to work the tracker to.
I said it's like a giant lawn mower that doesn't cut grass, just carries the hay bales and drops shit to the compost. That didn't help. I don't think the man has ever mowed a lawn in his life or really driven much, to begin with. That has to be the downfall of being a star so young, then being forced to continue shining. When you look at it like that, he's like the horses. Fresh off the track or suspensory blown because some greedy asshole thought a pony could jump three foot six easily. I don't pity him, though. My neck sprained again from his cocky rooky sway. Never being nice again. It's gonna be the death of me.
I was barebacking Dreamer, just walking around the indoor 'cause it was too hot to be under the sun today, and then like a bat out of hell, comes Katsuki on the tracker without warning. So, of course, Dreamer spun me off. And, of course, I fell off because, of course, I did. Then it was a mess. Dreamer's freaking out, and Blondie's freaking out too because he thinks I'm dead. He went all hero on me, literally blasted himself toward my body on the ground like it'd help. Dreamer lost his shit because, of course, he did—running around and crying like a bomb went off. Then the bomb that did go off is hovering over me and not letting me get up, saying I might have broken something. I wanted to slap him. I would have if he wasn't so cute. It's a crime to bust a pretty face.
Finally, he moved, and I could breathe again. I knew my neck was sprained because it's my fourth time and the feeling never really changes. But you gotta get back on, no matter what, especially while the adrenaline is still fresh and it doesn't hurt too bad yet. It was embarrassing to baby-talk a horse off the ledge in front of Katsuki. I knew he was judging me the whole time, could feel his cat eyes on my neck and its scruff. But it works, so fuck him.
He grabbed my wrist after realizing what I was doing on my way back to the mounting block. I told him that if I didn't get back on the horse would be traumatized, that you can't ever end a ride badly, or they only ever know bad to start. He said, "Fuck the horse. He hurt you." I wish I covered Dreamer's ears and maybe my own. Ignorance is the ugliest song I've ever known.
I told him to leave, and after three minutes of staring at him, he finally did. It hurt like hell to get back on. The adrenaline was gone at that point. Blondie must have taken it with him.
Saturday
I don't think Katsuki thinks I'm cute. Maybe it's the neck brace that turns him off or the fact that we don't get along about anything. It doesn't really matter anyway. He's not gonna be here forever—thank God. When he leaves, it'll be easier to get shit done again. You'd think having an extra pair of hands and muscles would help, but it doesn't. He doesn't fit here. He should, he could, but he doesn't. He doesn't know how to be to not be himself, and the horses don't know how to not take it offensively.
But he's getting better. Still don't know why he's here, doubt I'll ever find out, but he's here and better. He helped do the meds today—held all the syringes and pills like a walking pouting pharmacy. He kept yelling whenever I turned my head, reminding me of my neck and how I was only gonna make it worse, like I couldn't feel the fucking pull of it myself. It kind of felt nice. It's been so long since I've been around people, I realized. He's probably the worst one to attempt to get used to.
But he's alright. Not as loud, and maybe it's because he does think I'm cute and is scared he might get me fucked up for real if he's not careful. I wanna be cute to him, somehow. It's probably impossible because he's seen me at my worst too early, sweaty and smeared with dirt like a doormat. I could be a cute doormat, though. I hope I am.
Sunday
He has the loudest thunder of a laugh. I deserve a gold star for getting it out of him too. It wasn't even that hard or that funny, but it got him to his knees, and it was fun to look down at him for once.
I was grooming Danny, trying to show Katsuki how it's done—use the curry comb to loosen the dirt, the stiffer bristles to get it out, the softer brush to polish the coat off. Then came the hoof picking. I leaned into Danny's shoulder, got his hoof in my palm, and started lecturing Blondie. "You wanna avoid picking at the frog. It's like their cuticle," I said, knowing damn well he didn't know what the fuck I was talking about. Sometimes it's just fun to do that to him—use words he doesn't know and let his pride shut him up, too scared to ask. He probably didn't even notice because Danny went and nearly took a chunk out of my butt. That had him hollering.
"He fuckin' bit your ass," he said. I was so embarrassed if I'm honest. I didn't wanna be like, "Yeah, well, sometimes he just does that," and throw Danny under the bus and get him all embarrassed too. The old man's almost twenty-three, all greyed and withered. I've known him since he still held color, so I thought he'd have my back. I just said, "He didn't mean to," like an idiot, and then on cue, Danny, a fucking traitor, goes for it again, and it hurts too. I've never heard a man laugh so hard. It's a good sound—a warm one. Made my skin all hot, sticky, and gross.
Then he just kept laughing, clutching his washboard of a stomach like it could even recoil under all that muscle, dropping to the ground. I started laughing too just to hear what I sounded like with him. I think it's the first time we shared something together besides dinner in silence.
Monday
Katsuki learned how to figure eight a bridle today. It looked like shit, of course, but he learned. He's got these big ass hands, so it was entertaining to watch, too—kept fumbling with the leather straps 'cause they're too tiny for his grip. It was kind of hot, annoyingly, made it hard to focus on anything but those stupid hands.
He must have been curious today because he asked so many goddamn questions. I answered them all, too, just to hear him talk more. He asked if I'm alone out here, and I said yes. Then he gave me this look like it was the wrong answer 'cause he was right there next to me, so I'm not alone. I had to give him a look back to remind him that he's not out there, that he's just roleplaying the modest life.
Then Winston started colicing, and it all went to shit from there. I called Doc, trying to stay calm under the heat of Katsuki's dying curiosity and confusion, drinking in my alarm like a shotgun of beer. I knew the answer before he picked up, but Winston and Katsuki were watching me, so I had to pretend to have hope for them. He'd already had too many surgeries, and Doc said it'd be too dangerous to open him back up, cruel even. He offered to come down, but Winston blew his nose, started chewing again, and just gave me this look. My heart nearly shattered. Horses are intelligent creatures, sometimes too much for their own good. I told Doc that Winston wanted to see this one out by himself, and then he sighed on the line, apologized, and told me to call again when he needed to be picked up. I said, "Of course," and hung up.
It'll be hard to see that one go. He's gotta be the sweetest one here, bay with four white socks, a thick white blaze down his nose. Winston used to be a star when he was younger. He won everywhere he went, helped a lot of kids stay out of trouble with his gut issues and kind eyes. He's a loved horse, loved by so many. Of course, they're all gone now, moved on and grown up, working adult jobs and scrunching their noses at the mud. So he came to me like a treasured childhood teddy bear—all crushed from being sat on for too many car trips by accident, a new figure in the kid's grip.
I hate to lose any of them. Sometimes I wish I didn't love them so much. But I have to, and I will. I'll always be the girl that picks them up in her two-horse trailer, trudging them and their memories and fears behind the truck, feeling the weight of their years bounce on my lap over each train track we pass. I'll be the one who remembers them and loves them to the end, and they'll be the specks of hair I can't ever get out of my clothes, the ache in my neck, and the tug at my heart.
God, if you're real, please don't let Winston die just yet. I want him to stay just a little longer. Please. He may be ready, but I'm not.
Tuesday
Tuesday's empty still. Katsuki stares at the page anyway—like words will magically appear. He knows he shouldn't be here in your room, diary in his grip, head flooding with your thoughts. But the door was open, and so was the book. He didn't think. He just walked right in.
The sound of the front door slamming makes him jump. He thinks he's caught, shutting the diary to hide the evidence, then reopening it, remembering that's how he found it. It's pouring out, raining cats and dogs, and there you go running with your bare feet, forming new puddles.
He watches from the window, about to laugh, thinking you're the craziest girl he's ever met—the cute doormat with a pretty smile. But you're sprinting, heading straight for the barn. He tastes his heart on his tongue, throbbing and loud.
You cover your face with your hand as he finally reaches you in the truck, the high beams blinding you until he hops out and helps you up in the passenger seat.
"It's Winston," you pant, nightgown clinging to your skin as you dry your phone off on the leather, staring at the camera feed.
Katsuki gulps.
"S'gonna be fine," he says firmly, forcing his eyes straight ahead as you sniffle, damp and cold.
Your silence unnerves him. You're never quiet. Even in your damn diary entries, you've got enough personality to rock him off his feet. He wants to rattle you then, shake you until you shake back, cussing him out and calling him dumb. But you're quiet, and it's eerie. He helps you out of the truck.
A sound escapes his chest when you wrap your hand around his wrist, tugging him with you inside—his heart pleading for mercy, a chance. He follows you mindlessly, eyes glued to your bare feet, a growing urge to lift you up and let you walk on air.
You both stop outside of Winston's stall. He's lying down, nuzzling his stomach, and whimpers when he sees you.
"I know, baby, I know." You let go of Katsuki to unlock the latch.
He stands by the opening as you slip in, pine shavings sticking to your soles. Your body shakes slightly, dusting the ground with rain pellets, letting it absorb the pain you brought with it.
He watches you crouch down, petting Winston's neck slowly, almost choking when you peer over your shoulder to look back at him.
"Can you please get me the bute?"
Katsuki is frozen for a moment, stuck in the sudden change on your face. You're calm. Static and calm.
"The white powder shit?" He asks, gripping the pockets of his sweatpants like he might have it on hand, anxious.
"Yeah. Mix it with water like I showed you, and get it in a syringe for me," you nod, turning back to Winston.
"How much?" His voice is coarse, panic spiking at his throat.
You pause, about to tell him, then realize it might be too much to ask—that Katsuki won't always be here to do the heavy lifting.
"Watch him for me," you say, gone in a blink, jogging silently down the aisleway.
Katsuki stares at your back and then hesitantly at Winston.
Shit.
He wasn't good at this sort of thing. Was he supposed to talk to the horse, pet him like you always do? He knows he's not supposed to just approach them—that they're really just big babies with an extra set of feet. He glares at Winston, studying him. He doesn't want to piss this one off. You said—wrote that he was the sweetest one here. Katsuki wonders if the horses know like you say they do—if Winston knows when he's crying out for you that you're already on your way, sprinting in the rain.
Winston exhales, looking past Katsuki, searching for you.
He knows.
"I'm back," you breathe, holding a large syringe tube, pain relief just a gulp away.
Katsuki nods like you're talking to him, then realizes you aren't.
"Was Blondie nice to you while I was gone? He didn't say anything mean, did he?"
Katsuki huffs, crossing his arms in defense as he leans into the wood. "Didn't say shit," he grumbles.
You ignore him, inserting the chute into Winston's mouth, "I'm sorry, Winston. I know it tastes bad, but it's gotta be better than the pain, right?"
You're still talking to the horse, and Katsuki stands there, ignored, slightly bothered. He shakes his head. Pathetic—you're making him pathetic enough that he's jealous of a horse on its last leg, drinking chalky medicine as you cradle its chin.
"Thank you," you sigh, rubbing slowly up and down Winston's face, your heart ripped from your chest as he leans into the touch.
The rain is picking up, wind slapping it against the side of the barn. It's unbearably loud. Katsuki's fists tighten by his thighs, angry for Winston and you as it disturbs the moment's peace. But you're so gentle, unaffected by the storm, as you drop your forehead against Winston's.
Your hands trail up the sides of his face, massaging his ears until you stop to cup them.
"He's dying," you whisper.
Katsuki tenses, watching Winston's eyes flutter shut, waiting as your palms drag to brush over his lids.
"He's always had issues. Born to be a problem child, you could say," you smile as you turn, pressing your cheek into Winston. It burns slightly—the sprain at your neck is still fresh, lingering.
"But he was the coolest fucking horse. The All Might of horses, if that helps," you giggle lightly, amused at your own comparison.
A chill sweeps Katsuki at your use of the past tense. He's still alive, he wants to say, don't act like he's dead yet. But he knows better than most that it's best to accept loss before it comes rolling and crashing in. He stays silent.
"A superstar—a hero, and now he's here with me." You bite your inner cheek, piercing the emotion threatening to strike, hoping it'll deflate. "I guess every hero has their fall. Can't run forever. At some point, you gotta lay down."
You stare up at Katsuki. He sucks in a breath.
"It's not so bad down here, y'know."
You stay there for a beat, eyes locked until it hurts too much to look at him, and you turn to face Winston.
"But you'll always be a hero to me, buddy. You're still the coolest horse. You always will be, to me," you murmur. You press your tongue flat against the roof of your mouth, holding it there as you fight the hiccup at your throat, the tears that beg and weep.
"You'll always be his," Katsuki says.
The rain is loud. You cry just to know what it sounds like to join it.
"It's off-center," you complain, squinting at Katsuki's back as his shoulders drop.
"Hah?" He twists his torso, bracing himself against the wall as he shifts on the step ladder to face you. "It's straight, woman. The rest of them are just crooked."
"Are you saying I did a shitty job with the others, then?" You raise an eyebrow, watching as he climbs down.
"Basically," he nods.
"Rude," you bite back, fighting a smile as he moves to stand beside you.
He mutters something under his breath, and you both stare at the wall, glittered with horseshoes nailed to it. He's right, you think—the rest are a little slanted. Winston got the favorite treatment. He deserves it.
"It's kind of creepy," Katsuki turns to you, waiting for you to look back before continuing. "You sure this is a rehabilitation place? There's a lot of horseshoes up there."
You snicker at that.
"Most of them are just here to retire," you say, looking up at him. He really is handsome. You cross your arms in defense. "And it's not creepy. I just... I want them all to be remembered, is all."
Katsuki nods, exhaling, "Yeah, I get that. I do the same."
You're visibly confused but nod—never pushing him too hard. His jaw slacks, debating if he should explain, wishing you would poke and prod, just to feel your touch once.
"I keep a list," he says, finally.
You tilt your head, interest peaked but soft and welcoming. He runs a hand through his hair before starting.
"It's um... It's of all the people, y'know. The ones who," he pauses, swimming in your eyes, searching desperately for shore—something to make this easier, "died on my watch. It's like you said. I just don't want to forget any of them. Not ever."
You frown slightly, sympathy pooling in your irises, making it harder for him to keep treading. He wishes you wouldn't do that. You're going to make him choke.
"I-I don't think he told you," Katsuki pauses, feeling guilty for lying because he knows Shouta hasn't. He shouldn't have read your diary. He shouldn't have invaded your space. "But I'm here because of that, actually. I know you don't watch the news 'cause you like your shitty ass cartoons or whatever—"
You feel heat crawl up your neck in embarrassment. Of course, he picked up on things. He was living under your roof, after all. It still makes your pulse skip.
"But there was an accident—or no, I guess I was the accident," he cringes slightly, shaking his head. "I was trying to detain this villain, but he was so fucking fast, and he took this girl as hostage and... I tried so hard to be careful. I went for everywhere she wasn't, but I slipped up at one point and hit the building behind them."
He swallows, peering down at your lips, "Seven people died. I didn't notice at first. I just kept going after the guy and eventually got him. The girl was safe, and I restrained him. I thought everything was fine until I heard screaming. Everyone was huddled around this pile of broken concrete and screaming."
"Seven people died because of me," he finds your eyes again, waterline damp, flooding him, "and I know all their names, their families. I don't want to forget them. I won't."
"I'm so sorry," you whisper, like a reflex.
"It was my fault," he says, turning away from you. "They put me here to get me out of the press for a while—called it an honorable leave."
He lets out a breathy laugh. "It's bullshit. There's nothing honorable about it. The fucking villain killed less people than me. Not sure how I'm any better than him anyway. What good am I as a hero if I'm only good at destroying things, right?"
You reach out, grabbing his shoulder, "You can't say that."
"Yeah," he turns back to you, "I can. I'm not good at being the nice guy, the fucking Deku and All Mights of the world. I'm built more like a villain. Don't tell me I'm not 'cause it's true. They thought so too."
Your mouth opens, but he glares down at you, begging it to shut—to be heard without protest.
"I don't want to be one, though. I want to be good. Good like you."
You suck in a breath, releasing your grip. Katsuki panics for a moment, watching your head shake as you sulk.
"You don't know, then," you say. Katsuki's brows furrow, face scrunched as you rub your neck, "It's nice to know Shouta still keeps my secrets, I guess."
The air feels heavy as you collect yourself, running through the correct way to approach things, making Katsuki leap to every worst-case scenario as you do.
"I'm not good with people either," you start, glancing up at Winston's horseshoe, refusing to look at Katsuki. "My quirk... it's really harmful too. I've hurt people too."
He tenses beside you. You ignore it, continuing, "I make people's hearts stop. Literally, that's all I can do, and when I was little..."
You squeeze your eyes shut before staring at the ground. "It manifested without warning. I was in the kitchen with my mom. She was making dinner, and I was just watching from the counter. I remember looking at her and being so happy because she was making my favorite. Then suddenly, she dropped to the ground."
You can feel his eyes on you, his face softening until it almost doesn't look like him anymore. With a deep breath, you face him.
"I tried to help, but I only made it worse. I was making her heart beat so fast, inducing a heart attack. Then my dad and brother came down because I was yelling, and I thought they could help, but they... they dropped too."
Your gaze trails to his chest, his heart, "I was a child. I called for help, and eventually, Shouta came to the scene. He was the only one who could approach me safely—him and my dog. He brought me to UA and taught me how to control my quirk. I was away from the students for obvious reasons, but it was a lost cause. I'd never get to join them anyway. You can't become a hero when your quirk can only kill. Not that it even mattered. We found out later that it's only triggered by a strong sense of love."
Katsuki stutters on a breath. You swallow.
"But animals—for some reason, it didn't affect them. My love wouldn't kill them," you smile, struggling to hold the form as your lip trembles, "they could always handle it."
Katsuki's face is unreadable when you finally look back at him. He's so still and quiet, a statue, afraid to do or say the wrong thing. You falter, terrified you already have.
You let out a sad, forced laugh, shaking your head, trying to snap out of the sorrow, "So anyway, now I know why you came here, and you know why I'll stay. We both learned something, right? That's... good."
"You've always been alone, then," he notes sharply.
You bite your inner cheek, dropping your gaze again, "It's for the best. Just in case, y'know."
He's furious.
"That's fucking bullshit," he spits, a flame ignited beneath him.
You blink at him, speechless.
"How are you okay with that? Who the fuck told you that this was okay?"
"I like it here. It's fine—"
"It's not, though," he cuts you off. "Why do you have to hide from the world and shitty people like me don't? I get honorable leave, and you're just what? Bound here forever? It doesn't make sense. You're a good person. You don't deserve this."
You exhale, body shaking.
"Didn't you hear me? My quirk kills people, Katsuki. There's no other way to use it."
"It's not your fault, though. Your quirk is shitty, but you're not."
"Y-you're a hypocrite."
"What?"
"You're good too. You have a shitty quirk, but you're good too, Katsuki. You care. I've seen it—I've felt it."
"It's not the same."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not like you. You're... you're a little fucking weird, and that's probably 'cause you've been cooped up here for your whole life, but you're... actually good. You care so much about these horses, it's almost ridiculous, but you do. You've got a big heart, enough for all of them. You love too hard, is all. That's your only flaw. You're a sucker, and you love too hard."
"And you don't?"
"Huh?"
"You don't love too hard too?"
"I don't know what the fuck you're saying."
"I saw you crying after they picked Winston up, Katsuki."
"So?"
"So you have a heart. You love them all too. I know you do."
"Not like you do."
"Why does that matter? Why does—"
"Because I want to!" He clamors, panting. "Fuck. You're—hah, you're fucking my mind up a little. I'm getting weird just like you 'cause I want to. I want to know how to love like you do. I want to feel it so bad. Enough that it makes my heart stop. I don't care. I'd let you."
You shake your head vigorously.
"You don't know what you're asking for. You don't. You don't—"
"I probably don't," he retorts, stepping toward you. "Doesn't make me want it any less, though."
"You've only known me for two weeks," you say, helpless.
"Yeah, and I don't ever wanna not know you," he mutters, getting closer.
You can feel his body heat radiating off him, the scent of burnt sugar licking at your nose.
"I like you." His hand brushes your cheek, thumb guiding your chin up to him, locking you in his gaze. "I like you and your dumb fucking horses too."
"They're not dumb," you whisper, breathless.
"I know," he smiles.
"Then why'd you say it?" You frown, sliding your arms up his chest, behind his neck.
"'Cause I'm not a good guy, and you look cute when you pout like that," he says.
"Then what does that make me for liking you?" You grin, lips brushing his.
"A good girl with bad taste."
Katsuki kisses you roughly, earning tiny, desperate pleas as he takes what he wants. You squeeze his neck, tightening your arms around the muscles until he pulls back, growling at the pressure. You stare at him in awe, unable to catch your breath, mindless as you lean in to seize his bottom lip between your teeth. You tug it carefully, feeling his body tense, exhaling deeply through his nose. You sigh, watching it snap back into place, blood rushing to the area, mouth darkened with greed. He lets you gloat in the feeling—wants you to get drunk on the rush it gives you. But he's impatient, and you're so hot against him, like a furnace, driving him crazy. So he's back, knocking his forehead into yours, starved—tasting you, tongue slipping into your mouth, insatiable and confident. His thumb massages your neck, and he swallows the cry you release, the pain and lust filthy dripping down his throat.
"I feel it," he grumbles, crass and eager.
"Feel what?" You slur, fisting his hair to bring him closer, trying to kiss him, but he pulls back.
His eyes are steel, steady, and sharply red.
"Your quirk," he says, unmoving.
You let out a shaky laugh, but he doesn't budge, frightening you.
He's serious.
"That's not possible. You'd be dead," you breathe, shuddering at the thought.
"I'm not, though," he murmurs, almost purrs.
You gasp as he unhooks your arm from his neck, placing your palm flat into his chest. His pulse is heavy yet stable, but you can feel it at your fingertips. He's right. Your quirk is activated, and you didn't even notice. It's alive, and somehow he is too. All the blood drains from your face.
"Doesn't hurt too bad," he promises, slicking down your paranoia, "It's 'cause of my quirk. Nitroglycerin, it relaxes the heart. I produce it naturally."
You frown slightly, still unsure, so he rephrases, "I'm not affected by your quirk. I can handle it. You and your love. It feels good."
"I don't love you," you say weakly, blood rushing back, making your head heavy.
"'Course you don't. You're just making my heart race for fun," he grins.
You suck in a breath, stuttering on it, "Shut up."
"Kiss me then," he says.
So you do.
You kiss him till it hurts, your palm never leaving his chest, his heart pounding against it. It's terrifying to let yourself go, so he holds you tight. So tight you think maybe it's your heart that'll stop first.
"I burnt your toast."
He hums, taking the mug from your hands and bringing it to his lips to sip, not even flinching though it's burning hot.
"I like it like that," he mumbles, sighing as you drop in the seat across from him.
You hiss at the sharp feeling between your thighs, nails digging into your hip as you shift your weight onto it.
"What's wrong?" He's got his hero face on, all concerned and ready to save.
You frown, shaking your head. "Nothin' just sore."
He's not satisfied with that, eyes narrowing as he studies you, "From what?"
"Stop frowning. I'm fine, seriously," you reassure, patting the table as you stand.
A faint "ow" tumbles from your lips, and he huffs.
"You're a suck ass liar," he says, getting up to stand with you. "Tell me what's wrong."
"No," you make your way into the kitchen, knowing he's following you, "it's nothing. Leave me alone."
"Not gonna," he promises, watching as you lean down and open the freezer, "I just wanna help."
You sigh, snatching an icepack before placing your hands on your hips, trying to be assertive, "I said I'm fine, now move, you're in my way."
Katsuki tilts his head, amused as he smiles wide like a shark, smug.
"You're too embarrassed to say," he decides, eyes roaming your body before leading back to your annoyed expression.
"I'm going to my room," you announce, taking a step forward. Katsuki doesn't move, a brick wall between you and escaping.
"What about breakfast?" He grimaces—like he's offended you're not going watch him eat his shitty burnt toast.
"You're a big boy. You can eat alone," you walk into him, groaning when he doesn't budge.
"I wanna eat with you," he brushes your hair with his palm, peering down as you prop your chin against his chest to face him, "and know why you're acting so weird all of a sudden."
"I'm just a weird girl," you say, cringing as he chuckles in response.
"Yeah, but this is extra weird. You're hiding something from me. Like I said, you're a shit liar."
You pout for a moment, but he doesn't buy it, so you sigh, surrendering.
"It's from barebacking," you confess, dropping your gaze to his neck, tracing his collarbone, "Roma's got a big ass wither, and I took her for a trail ride yesterday 'cause she hates the lunge tape, and..."
You look up at him, then down and back up, begging that it hits him. His eyes widen a moment later, and you're relieved.
"Why didn't you use a saddle?" He questions, curious and a little proud of himself for thinking to ask, noticing how it catches you off guard.
"She hates girths too. I think someone pinched her a couple times with it, and now she can't bear them," you explain, fighting a smile as Katsuki nods, taking it all in—learning.
"So now you're sore 'cause of her wither bone?"
"Yeah, almost feels like I bruised my... y'know," you mumble, looking to the side to escape his smirk.
"No, I don't know. Tell me."
"Don't make it weird," you say, nudging at his chest again. He's a mountain, and you're just the idiot trying to get over or around him, whichever is quicker.
He exhales deeply after a moment, relaxing enough to move back a step.
"Let me help you, then," he whispers.
Then you're the one frozen, tongue heavy in your mouth as you look up to confirm he said it.
"What?"
"You heard me. I'm asking to help. I'll hold the ice for you."
You want to call out how impracticable that'd be, how it'd be easier if you just sat on the icepack and you both had your hands free. But Katsuki is so handsome. All muscle and this boyish charm you only see in movies yet have playing out right here in the kitchen in front of you. Impracticable suddenly sounds really good.
"Alright," you settle, acting nonchalant, trying hard not to choke on your pulse.
"Good," he says, stepping to the side to let you free. You steer for the table. He grabs your wrist halfway there.
"Thought we were going to your room," he murmurs.
"What? I thought you wanted to eat breakfast?" Your eyebrows crumple together, lips turning down in confusion.
"I like your idea better now."
You narrow your eyes at him, but he doesn't give anything away, just looking back at you with his familiar face—like he's innocent and you're the weird one. You're always the weird one, you think.
"Fine, my room it is," you shrug, your neck prickling as you turn, something twisting at your core.
"Lead the way."
You've never brought him to your room before—never brought anyone to your room before, you realize. You're suddenly mortified. Katsuki has experience. It's written all over his face. You're still too scared to tell him he was your first kiss. A small part of you knows he didn't need to be told. It's probably written all over your face too.
"Um, this is it," you say lamely.
Katsuki looks around, pretending he hasn't been here before. The horses are in almost everything here. A painting on the wall, a small sculpture on your nightstand, He can't help but think it's kind of cute. You're a nerd for horses in the way Deku is for All Might—the way Katsuki is for All Might. They really are your heroes.
"Very you," he notes, making your nose crinkle up as you nod, embarrassed.
Biting the bullet, you sit on the bed, patting a space for him next to you. The mattress bounces you with his added weight, and you pet it as if to calm it down.
"Lay down," he directs, taking the icepack from your hand.
You drag yourself to the center, gulping. You've become comfortable around Katsuki, but this was a significant step if you're being modest. You're in a loose-fitting tee shirt that kisses your thighs and does a terrible job at hiding how you're not wearing shorts, the fabric bunching at your hips as your knees bend. Your panties aren't even cute, you remember, feeling the air hit your skin as you refuse to check, and Katsuki shifts to bring himself closer to you.
He massages your ankle, eyes glued to your face, not daring to peak just yet.
"You alright?"
You let out a small, measly sound, like you're suffocating and just caught air, "Yup. I'm good."
He squints at you, releasing his hold, "You're nervous."
"For what?" You huff, almost genuinely asking—begging.
"I make you nervous," he clarifies, not taking the bait.
You pause, thinking it over, even if you don't need to.
"I'm insecure," you say, shifting your gaze to your thighs, tensing at the sight of them like you haven't had them attached to you every single day of your life, and you're surprised to just meet them now. "You're the first person I've ever gotten this close to. I have some friends through horse things, so more business relationships if anything, but... I've never been with someone like this. Like you."
Katsuki breathes in deeply, wetting his bottom lip with the swipe of his tongue. "You think I'm gonna judge you or something? 'Cause I know, you're a little thick at times, but I didn't think you were actually dumb."
You huff.
"Was that supposed to be reassuring?"
"Kind of?"
"It wasn't," you smile, staring right at him.
He looks gentle under the early sunlight, broad and delicate against the cotton sheets.
"I'm trying to say you've got nothing to be nervous about. I like you. I like you a whole fucking lot. Don't let whatever you're thinking surpass that truth."
He says it softly, but you know he means it with the grit of his teeth, silently asking you don't make him bear them to prove it to you.
"I like you too," you say, finally.
"I know," he smiles, rubbing your calf as you nod, opening your legs for him.
You gasp when he presses the ice to you, his eyes still on your face, eating up your reaction. He nestles his nose into your knee, kissing it. You think you might melt.
"Feel better?" He asks, breath brushing down your thigh as he rests his cheek against it.
"Not yet," you whisper, fighting the urge to clamp your legs around his forearm, suddenly aware of how close he is.
He grins into your skin, closing his eyes and planting another wet hot kiss onto the meat of your inner thigh, "You sure?"
"I'm not," you say in a haze.
He's trailing down, pecking your leg until he pauses, eyes fluttering open to look at you.
"Do you want me to then?"
"What?"
"Do you want me to make it feel better?"
He holds you there, eye to eye, his hair tickling your flesh.
"What do you mean?" You let out a shaky breath, feeling him apply more pressure to the icepack.
"I wanna make you feel good. Let me."
You wait for the feeling to come—fear and shame, something begging you to stop before you make a fool out of yourself. It doesn't, though.
You look at Katsuki and don't feel anything but his heart and how steady it is in your palms.
"Please."
He kisses your thigh, then shifts up, placing an elbow beside you to drop down and plant a kiss on your lips—sweet and slow.
"I'll be gentle," he promises. You believe him.
He kisses you again before lowering himself, biting a smile back as you pout at the loss of his weight above you. It's wiped right off your face when he dips down, nuzzling into your heat, tossing the icepack next to him. He kisses you there, so delicate you almost can't feel it, still a little numb from the cold. But he warms you up, poking his tongue out to dip into you, teasing you until you whine enough that he rocks back on his knees and helps you shimmy out of the material.
You hide your face as he stares at you and your nakedness, fully clothed himself.
"I know you won't believe me, 'cause you're you, but you're fucking perfect, doll."
The pet name sounds sweet on his lips, but you taste so much sweeter.
Your thighs muffle your moans, but he likes them at his cheeks, threatening to suffocate him with how tight you hold him there. He grins when your hands find his hair, tugging and pulling, letting go and giving in to him. You're like putty in his hands, and he's just trying to memorize how you feel, studying you with his tongue until he knows how to mold the shape of you.
You cry when his thumb presses into you, rubbing focused circles on your clit, adoring it under his touch. Then you really are putty in his hands, hot gooey lava that slips between his fingers as he works desperately to lap you up, not wasting a drip of your euphoria—his hard work.
He climbs up your body to kiss you, swapping spit as you gasp at your taste on his tongue.
"Feel good?"
You nod into him, panting between kisses, not ever wanting to pull back.
"Wanna hear you say it," he moves to your chin, trailing down to your neck.
"I feel good," you sigh, running your hands up and down his back, feeling hot to the touch at how big he feels. So strong and yet careful, aware of his size and weight, you the glass under his feet.
"Mm," he hums, finding his way back to you, "I feel good too."
He stares at you then, the dumbest grin on his lips, drunk on you.
"I like you so much," you whisper, lifting a hand to cradle his face.
"Does that scare you?" He asks, leaning into your touch.
"A little, but I like it. I like you," you stare at his lips, watching as he turns his face to kiss your open palm, speaking into it.
"Good. Don't ever stop, then. Be mine."
You suck in a breath, then look at him, and let it go.
"I'm yours," you say. "Always."
"We're almost there."
His arms are crossed, and you think he looks a bit like a child at the moment, stubborn and impatient.
You've been walking down the dirt road for at least an hour now, and he's already asked five times why you didn't want to just drive down, and you've already given the same stupid answer: you like walking, it's fun.
He'd be okay with it if you weren't wincing every other step, squeezing your hand in his. You're on your feet all day, he thinks. How much fun did you intend on having?
"Okay, it's just around the corner, I think," you pull him slightly, dragging him out of his internal debate about how mad you'd be if he just scooped you up on the way back.
"They better be fucking nice if you're getting blisters over them," he mutters, feeling a tug at his heart as you giggle.
"They're my favorite. Worth all the blisters in the world."
Then you turn the corner, and he'll give it to you—they're pretty fucking nice. Huge too, he notes, watching as you run free, letting the flowers hit your body.
"They're so pretty," you beam, the sun starting to set as you dance in its golden hour.
They're alright, he thinks. You're what's so fucking pretty, what's worth dancing about.
"C'mon, don't just stand there!"
He sighs all heavy like you're taking years off his life just for asking, but proceeds anyway. He's stiff in front of you, barely moving, so you're like liquid in the air to make up for it.
"You're not having fun," you frown, poking at his chest before twirling.
"You're fucking insane if you think I'm gonna do whatever you're doing right now," he says, mesmerized.
You laugh at that, shrugging slightly, "That's fair. I don't even know what I'm doing either."
He can tell. You're just flowing with the breeze, and he's watching with his breath caught in his throat. He wants to be there with you suddenly—in the air getting swept away.
You squeal when his hands grip your hips, lifting you up in the air, spinning you.
"I'm flying!" You muse, smiling down at him.
"No, you're not," he laughs, smiling back.
It starts raining then, sprinkling on your back as he slowly lets you down, scowling at the sky.
He stares up at it for a moment, deep in thought. You let the flowers tickle your back until he finally decides.
"No way I'm walking back in the fucking rain," he spits.
Suddenly, your feet are back off the ground, with an arm secured behind you. You clutch at his neck, wrapping your legs around his torso tight.
"It's gonna be loud," he warns, and just like that, you're in the air.
Just like that, you're flying.
Katsuki's quirk is ugly in a lot of ways. It hurts your ears, violent and aggressive in nature. You know he hates that side of himself, the one that carries the blood lost from these short, firework-like blasts. In the air, it's different. It's jarring and quick, but you feel safe, smiling through the whiplash. Soaring, your body pressed to him, you think he's the coolest man you've ever met. Your hero. Katsuki is, and always will be, your hero.
He lands shortly before meeting the barn, dropping to his feet and sprinting with you there in his arms. It's the perfect distance away from the horses, you realize. He didn't want to spook the horses.
You're both dripping wet when you get to the house, shaking in the air conditioning as you run up the stairs. You rush for the shower and somehow end up on your bed instead. The sheets are ruined, and you decide you like them better that way.
You sigh into each other's mouths as he enters you, thighs hugging his hips as he kisses your face, telling you that you're doing so good for him. You think you get it then—love, why people talk about how they like it so much. At one point in your life, you were afraid of it. Love is your weapon, and there's no safety on your trigger. Katsuki kisses you anyway, though. He kisses you until his jaw hurts, your bare skin kissing too.
It stings a little, but he's slow and patient, allowing you to adjust. He chuckles lightly when you start rocking into him, kissing your shoulder and asking if it feels good. You're eager to show him, moaning his name, touching his back and all the muscles flexing beneath your palms as you do.
The rain is loud against your window, but you sound good with it, and for once, he thinks he might like it. Or maybe he just really likes you. No, not like, he—
"I love you."
He says it first, cupping your face as his hips stay at yours, keeping you molded together.
"Promise?" You ask, beaming as he nods above you.
"I promise. I love you."
You lift your head to kiss him, smiling against his lips.
"I love you," you say and mean.
"I promise it too."
Katsuki's hand brushes up and down your arm until you can't feel it anymore, and it's like the air that surrounds you both. You're by the window, overlooking the pastures on his lap.
"You could come with me," he says.
You both know you won't. You're staring at the first reason, the second thumping in his chest.
"Or you could stay," you whisper, nestling your face into the crook of his neck, wishing you could remain there forever.
"I can't. I never could," he sighs, lips pressing to your scalp.
You nod into him. Of course, he couldn't. He's still in his prime, after all. He's gotta be someone's star while he still has the flame. He doesn't belong here, not yet, at least. Silently, you wish he never would. You wish he'd never know how the ground feels beneath his feet. He moves so naturally in the sky.
It's silent for a while, just his breath and yours synced, slow and steady—ready for a storm.
"Come with me," he asks, begs.
"Sunflowers don't grow in the city," you say.
He knows what you mean. He knows that means no, and it always will.
"You're right. They don't. Not like they do here," he mumbles, exhaling to break the cycle, your hearts on a different beat.
"Nothing out there is like it is here," you whisper, not even sure if it's true.
"Nothing like you, that's for sure," he smiles and then stops because it hurts too much.
It's quiet again, time passing too quickly. You can feel him fading beneath you—a foot out the door, his hand still on your thigh.
"What if I can't live without you, Katsuki?"
He tenses, the hand at your arm stopping, reminding you he was there—that he's always been there.
"You'll just have to hold your breath till I get back, then," he says.
Something tickles your hand as you reach out in slumber, something soft yet rough around the edges.
"Kat?"
Your eyes open before you can even really see, just a blur of colors and a soft yellow that gives you hope, resting against the pillow beside you.
But it's just a sunflower, you realize. It's not the yellow you've grown to favor, the blond with a bite. It's a single sunflower and a small notebook beside it. You open it up to read.
Friday
I read your diary. I'm sorry. That was probably one of the shittiest things I've done to you, maybe right under getting your neck fucked up the second night. I'm sorry for that too, by the way. I don't even remember if I told you I was, but I am. I'm sorry, and this is a shitty way to make up for it, but I'm trying.
I have to leave soon. We don't have many days left, and by the time you read this, I'll be gone already. I hope our last day is a good one. You better not cry, either. Please don't cry. I swear this isn't goodbye. Not for forever. I promise that.
Saturday
You are the love of my life. Have you figured that out yet? If you haven't, I've done something terribly wrong, or you really are stupid.
Of course, you're not. You're smart. My bright, sometimes dumb, pretty girl. God, do you even hear what I sound like right now? You make me sound all gross and shit, doll. Fucking gross. But I think I like it. Really, I just like you.
You're in the shower right now, and I'm being smart in my own way by taking the time to write for you now while you're busy. Be proud I'm not begging to join you, 'cause I really wish I could.
Maybe I will, actually. Yeah, I think I will. I want to kiss you right now, so I gotta go. I'll act smart later.
Sunday
I'm terrible at this diary shit. You're so good at it, too, I'm a little jealous 'cause I thought it'd be easy.
We have two more days together, and today I thought about asking to marry you. I don't even have a ring, so I'm not sure how I thought it would work, but I considered it. Really I did. You're allowed to laugh. I know it's ridiculous.
I'd bet you'd say no. I'd be mad if you didn't. You deserve a ring, a really nice one too. I've never understood them because it's just a rock on metal, but I don't know. Is it still a rock on metal if it's slipped around your finger since you said yes? Today I thought it couldn't be, that'd it'd be so much more. I want to marry you, doll.
I want to marry you.
I do.
I really fucking do.
Wait up for me 'cause I'll never stop waiting for you.
Monday
We had sex today.
Imagine if I just left it like that? It could have been funny. Fuck, it would have been. I already wrote on the end of the page, though, and I don't wanna rip it out. It'd be a whole thing, then. You'd be looking for that page forever, probably thinking it was some sappy love letter, and I wouldn't have the heart to tell you it was just this.
It could have been funny. Fuck.
But anyway, we did. I know you probably thought about it, so let me just tell you where you can't fight the answer: yes, you're the best I've ever had. You were incredible. You are incredible. I'd go into detail, but I think that might be too much. Or maybe that's what you like. I don't know. I just realized I don't know.
I don't know everything about you. I've known you for three months, and I don't know if you'd be happy or not for me to do this. Maybe you'll actually hate it. Maybe you'll read "I read your diary" and fucking hate me and stop there. I hope you won't, and to be honest, I know you won't, 'cause you're you. I know you enough to know that you're you. That I love you, and you love me.
I want to know more, though. I don't want to have to guess or think when it comes to you. Isn't that what love is all about, doll? No questions and second-guessing, just knowing or not needing to. I want to reach that with you. We can't do it in a day and only have one left.
I'll come back to you so we can. Even if it kills me, somehow, I'll come back to you. You'll be the star I follow to guide me home. You will be my home.
Please.
Tuesday
I don't know how to explain this feeling in words, but if I had to, it's gotta be like losing the sun and never knowing warmth again.
You are so radiant. The horses see it too. I think maybe you're their sun, and that's why it's never cold here.
Since this is the last entry, I'll be blunt with you. When I first came here, I thought you were the most out-of-touch person I'd ever met. You talked to the horses more than you spoke to me, and I genuinely thought you might be insane. Then I got you spun off Dreamer and realized it was me who didn't know shit. Again, I'm sorry for that.
You've changed my life since that day. Every day since I've met you actually, I've changed. You make me a better person, doll, and somehow I didn't fuck you up into becoming worse. We work well together. I almost think you were made for me, and I was made for you. I know I sound so goddamn weird, but this time I'm asking you don't laugh because I'm fucking serious.
You are the only one for me. I'm sorry that it's true, that you're stuck with me forever. I'll make it worth it, though. I'll spend every day making it up to you. I'll do anything you ask too.
Just not staying. I can't do that, not yet. I wish I could, but we both know it wouldn't be right. I'm just not ready to settle down, doll. I'm not like Winston. I haven't reached the top of that hill just yet. But I'm going to, and I have to. I need to be up there. I want to be someone you look at and think I'm worthy of resting my head on your lap, that I've lived enough days and fought enough battles to just lay there with you forever.
I know you're not ready either. You need time away from me to catch your breath again, to grow with the weeds and flowers. You need time to miss me so much that you couldn't ever get sick of me again. I know that. You need to be the sun for them too. I can't steal you like that.
So promise me you'll still love me when the timing is right for it. When I'm bruised and beat and don't have the charm to carry my shitty personality anymore. That's a lot to ask, but the thing is, I'm so greedy, and I'll ask for it.
I won't stop loving you. Don't stop, either.
Dance in the fields for me, pretty girl. One day I'll be so tired, I just might dance with you.
Dear Katsuki,
It's been years. Not a day goes by that I don't think about you, though. I started watching the news just to see you again. You really are a hero. You're the best I've ever seen.
I miss you so much, Kat. I think I'll miss you forever, some days more than others. When it rains, I miss you most. I miss your grouchy face and how you held me tighter during storms. I almost forget what it feels like, which scares me the most. Sometimes I close my eyes and can't see you, so I panic. I think I'm forgetting you in those moments, and I realize I never hung you up on the wall, that maybe you were never really here, and I just dreamt the time we spent together.
You asked me to never stop loving you. I think it's cruel that you thought you even had to ask like it was a choice I ever had a hand in making.
You said I was the sun. You're a fool, Katsuki. Don't you know the winter is so much colder here without you?
I think you might have ruined my life by kissing me so softly. I hope I ruined yours too.
I think you've lived enough. I think I couldn't stand to see you bruised and beat. Your head has always been too heavy. Won't you come home and rest here on my lap, just like you said you would?
I hope the city is keeping you warm. I'll have to burn it if it isn't.
I love you. I love you till it hurts, and some more after that.
Be my sun so I can dance again.
Come back so you can ask to marry me. I'll let my answer be a surprise. You'll just have to wait and see, won't you? Come home and find out.
I miss you.
I'll be here when you're ready.
I love you.
It felt like a storm was coming, but it didn't. You're grateful for that. You've been getting so many lately that it's beginning to feel like an omen, thinking the people on the news saying the world is ending may just be right. You know they're wrong. The world already ended, you think. It did the day he left you, but nobody seemed to notice. They're all late pointing fingers now.
It's nighttime, but you're still working because there's nothing better to do. Cleaning is therapeutic until you watch all your work gone in seconds. The horses don't appreciate as you do. But you do it anyway, polishing the barn doors like they'll ever be seen by anybody. You think maybe the moon cares. It glows the farm nicely at night, so at least you have one fan.
There's a bang by the end of the driveway. You check both doors, adrenaline pumping, realizing you left them open to dry. Did you forget to close someone's stall fully? You don't think you have time to check. Whoever got loose is already far down the road. You stare at the truck and then, for some reason, think you might be faster than an engine at the moment.
You realize about halfway down that you're most definitely not. You're more out of shape than you remember being, panting as you push yourself off the dirt, heart in your throat, burning it. You think you can see it then, in the distance. Somethings moving slowly towards you, quiet and steady. It's not one of the horses, you think. It's not wide enough. So then what?
You pray it's not a coyote or something. That'd really fucking suck. No way you ran all the way down here to get gobbled up by a coyote.
It's still moving, the same pace, still quiet. It's too dark to make much out, though. If it's trying to kill you, it's doing a terrible job—giving you way too long of a head start to run if you were smart enough to take it. Something about it has you frozen in place, your skin slick with sweat as you catch your breath.
"Hello?" You call out, feeling dumb for trying. Coyotes don't talk back.
"You're still here, then?" It asks. It asks.
The voice is familiar, but you almost can't pinpoint it, a gush of wind carrying it too far to reach.
"Yeah? Yeah, I'm here."
That triggers something within the shadow ahead because it's running then, full speed ahead, straight down the line to you. Suddenly the air feels warmer. You almost forget it's night.
"It's really you?" He yells, getting closer by the second—your head start long gone as you nod into the dark.
You pinch yourself. Then again, and again. It hurts each time, but you keep doing it, afraid you're in a dream with a happy ending you can't bear to see if you'll never actually have it.
"It's me. How do I know you're you?" You shout, fighting against the breeze.
Then there's sparks. Small bursts, like tiny fireworks. You see sparks.
You're running again, adrenaline back and so strong you can't feel your legs anymore. Katsuki grunts when you crash into him, jumping into his arms, knowing he'll catch you.
"It's you. It's fucking you!"
You're squeezing him so tight, on his body and heart. He hasn't felt his pulse so strong in a while, not since you last gave him the reason to.
"You're gonna spook the horses," he whispers, holding you back just as tight.
"Fuck you," you say.
You don't remember when you start crying, but it's making a mess. His shoulder is damp, and suddenly, you realize yours is too. Your hero is crying. The sun's weeping at your neck, begging to finally be let home.
"I did it," you say, breaking the silence.
"Did what?" He pulls back to press his face into yours, brushing against it like a cat.
"I held my breath for you."
Katsuki kisses you then, under the audience of the stars and the weight of the world melting off his shoulders, his furnace pressed against him once again.
"Was it worth it?" He asks, pecking your nose and cheeks, covering you in what you've almost forgotten.
"We'll have to find out, I guess," you smile, feeling him walking down the road still carrying you, returning home.
Monday
Katsuki relearned how to figure eight a bridle today. It looked like shit, of course, but it's him, so somehow, it's perfect.
It feels good to have the sun back on my face, in bed beside me every night. He's the only heat I want to know, so I said yes today.
I doubt he was surprised, but I made sure to at least look like I had to think, just keep him on his toes.
He's gonna look so handsome in a suit. I hope I look even better in my dress to punish him for waiting so damn long to come back.
Kidding. Maybe.
Truth is, I really was holding my breath. So it feels good to breathe again.
I love him so much. So much it makes him blush.
I have to go now. Katsuki's in the shower, and I want to join him. So bye, for now, and maybe forever. I just wanna dance with him, so you understand, right?
You've been good to me, diary. You can rest happy knowing you end on a good note.
I'll be just fine. The sun's back in town, didn't you hear?
