Summary: You can feel him pushing you away. You know you can be too much, but you can’t help but want to stay…even if meant diminishing your presence in his life.
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It was another late night. Another night when your phone had no new notifications. The dinner you made that was meant to feed two was put into leftover containers and set into the fridge. The dishes were done, the living room was spotless, the laundry was cleaned and put away. The apartment no longer smelled like you. Your belongings tucked away to not take up space.
When he finally arrived home, his shoulders were slumped. He didn’t slam the door closed, didn’t kick off his boots with a force that would cause one to fly into the shoe closet, didn’t call out for you to see if you were even home. It’s been weeks like this. Him not paying attention to you and you paying attention to everything. Sometimes you don’t even think he knows you’re there.
“Hey,” you murmur softly. Your eyes focused on his face, trying to decipher what mood he’s in today.
“Hey,” He muttered, not looking at you. He dropped his jacket on the barstool and went straight to the kitchen sink, scrubbing his hands with a force that boarded on hostile.
You get up from your spot on the couch and hover in the kitchen’s entrance. Your fingered curl into the fabric of your shirt as you read his body language. Just by his tense shoulders and the distance his eyes, you know not to stand too close. He’d flinch away from you, just like he had these past few months.
“Rough day?” Your voice soft and careful. When he didn’t answer, you stepped back. You watched as he dried his hands and walk past you toward the living room. You follow at a distance, trying not crowd him too much.
Neither of you speak for a while. Just existing in the same room before you spoke up again, “Did I do something wrong?”
Bakugo’s jaw clenches. His gaze fixed on the tv. “No.”
“But something is wrong” the words slip out your mouth before you can stop them. You don’t want to start a fight…you just need to know what is going wrong.
“Not everything is about you.” His words were sharp but his voice was tired. His eyes still won’t look at you, as if he didn’t look at you then he wouldn’t have to acknowledge the growing distance.
Your voice seems smaller as you mutter, “I didn’t say it was…I just want to understand why you’ve been distant.”
“I’m tired.”
“You’re always tired.”
“That’s how it fucking is!” He finally snapped. “You don’t fucking get how tiring it is to work your ass off all day, dealing with fucking idiots then have to come home to someone who is so fucking clingy and annoying. I just want one night where you’re not here.”
The words hit you hard. His gaze is finally on you for the first time in weeks. The look on his face tells you that he immediately regrets the words that just left his mouth but before he could scramble off an apology, you shake your head. Your voice tired and soft, “You’re right…I’m sorry. I’ll go. Give you the space you need. I thought that maybe if I just stayed quiet and out of your way, you would’ve let me stay…that you would’ve let me be around you but obviously that’s not what you need. I’ll pack a bag and go stay at a friends or something.”
You turn on your heel and head to the bedroom you once shared with him. Your movements slow and steady as you grow through the closet. The black duffle bag slowly fills up with clothes and some bathroom necessities. The apartment is quiet besides the sound of pacing that’s coming from the living room. You swallow the lump in your throat as you leave the bedroom. Your steps quiet as you walk to the shoe closet and grab a pair of slide on vans. Bakugo sits on the couch with his head in his hands.
“I just wanted to be near you.” Your words cause his shoulders to stiffen up. His head lifts from his hands and his eyes land on the bag on the floor. Bakugo shoots off from the couch but before the words could leave his mouth, you’re already out the door. The door muffles the curses the fly out his mouth as you walk down the hallway and into the elevator.
Your friend is already waiting downstairs for you. She does’t say anything, just wraps her arm around you and the two of you walk side by side to her place. Once you get to her place and settle in her guest room, you take out your phone and scroll through your contacts until you land on his. With a simple few taps, you block his number and his social media profiles. You delete the message threads, the pictures, anything that involved him. As much as you loved his friends, you knew that they had to go too.
It’s been weeks since he last heard from you…since he last heard your voice. The apartment feels cold and empty. He didn’t mean to push you away…he didn’t mean to make you feel that you had to shrink yourself to fit into his life. Fuck did he miss you. His missed seeing your stupid pink slippers by the bed, missed the coziness you brought to the apartment. He missed your voice when you greeted him and the soft kisses you would press to his cheek whenever he left for the day.
The first day you left, he didn’t know what to do. He paced around the apartment, cursed and threw shit, and then had Kirishima come over. He thought you would come home after a few days. Thought he would come home from work and see you on the couch. He thought after a few days of cooling off, you two would move on and act that night never even happened. He would kiss you, grab your face and show you how much he cared, how much he loved you, but no. You haven’t came home. You blocked him and his friends.
Fuck. He misses you.
He just wants you to come around.
Bakugo thought it was just a short break. You two were still together, you just needed space because he hurt you but when he came home after another shitty long day he felt a shift in the apartment. He could smell your perfume. Excitement filled his chest as he immediately went to look for you so he could kiss you and hold you. To make things right.
He reached the bedroom when his heart fell to his stomach. The rest of your things were gone. Your knickknacks, the rest of your clothes, your makeup and lotions, gone. On his bed sat a box. In it, everything he has ever gotten you. From plushies to expensive jewelry, all packed carefully and gently. No note. Just memories. His hands shake as he moves things around, hoping you left him anything that could lead him back to you but sitting on the bottom of the box was a picture. A picture of you and him from the first time you met his friends. You had it on your nightstand and now it sat at the bottom of a box.
God, he wishes you would just come around, to be near him again.
Sometimes I get nervous posting because I worry that something I think about would be too closely related to something someone else wrote.
But…
Least favored concubine reader who dies from an illness vs The Emperor who loathed her until the day she died except now she’s haunting his dreams, his life and now he can’t help but miss her to the point it consumes him
Which leads to…
Reincarnated reader who works at a cute little cafe called ‘Too Sweet’ who has no recollection of her past life, who happens to meet this handsome man that gives her butterflies (he happens to be the emperor reincarnated and he remembers everything and refuses to let you slip through his fingers in this life)
omg i’m thinking about bakugou discovering the boob photocard trend. (context here )
like…bakugou not really being entertained by like the kpop-ification of pro heroes. he doesn’t get the concept of his fans having photocards of him and designing fanmade dynamight photocard holders, collecting them and decorating top loader, people carrying them around etc…
it’s not like he hates it, and katsuki wouldn’t deny his fans any fun… he just doesn’t care much.
that is until a certain dynamight fan account takes part in a particular trend. one where pictures of the explosive pro hero’s face are printed out onto pieces of cardboard — nestled perfectly into your lace cut bra.
he happens to come across it whilst scrolling through the dynamight hashtag — looking for updates on his stats but instead coming face to face (chest) with the ultimate display of dedication. your expression is cute, a blurry wink and a soft pout, but the camera’s focus is on the katsuki bakugou photocards peeking out from the scalloped edge of your pretty black bra — the holographic orange stickers you’ve decorated them with matching the sunset shaded silk bow tacked to the underwire.
his face… between your tits. your soft, mouthwateringly perfect tits. the blonde’s heart races, his cheeks flush and something stiff kicks between his legs… because to put it frankly, you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on.
and you’ve got your boobs out for him.
‘adding something to the trend #dynamight’ you’ve captioned the post.
bakugou finds himself bookmarking your tweet — he’ll come back to it later, imagine his own face buried between soft mounds of flesh when he works his cock after hours. for now, he leaves his own comment with a new found appreciation for photocards.
‘you’ve won.’ he simply types out and clicks the lock on his phone — he’ll worry about what the head of PR has to say later.
for now, katsuki will await your adorably excited message going on and on about how you’re his biggest fan whilst he comes up with a plan to see your tits in real life, instead.
Archeologists discover Heian Era!Sukuna’s letters, circa 892
A/N: my roman empire is the way i lock in for historical stuff
The academic world is in shambles.
Archaeologists in Kyoto have unearthed a sealed lacquer box from the early Heian period, tucked behind a collapsed shrine wall. Housing dozens of silk-bound scrolls inside, written in an alarmingly passionate hand. The team expects political intrigue, poetic philosophy – perhaps even religious text. Something to better understand modern humanity’s predecessors.
What they find instead is.. well.
Your scent lingers like sweet balm to the weary soul, salving my skin with saccharine lace and gossamer ribbon. Were I some less honorable being, I will have willed myself homebound, to embrace and consume you whole beneath pale moonlight.
It has been a fortnight since you last wrote.
Do you intend to kill me thus, woman? Word by word withheld?
Send me a lock of your hair. Better yet a cut of cloth from your undergarments, for your weary king to behold. To wrap around his sword hilt, that every death may whisper tender of your name.
How strange the enemy, to write more often than my own wife. I shall be better off to assume affection from their corpse.
I am not a monk, woman.
Your husband returns. Do not bathe.
Experts are divided as to whether or not to classify the findings as early examples of love letters, war correspondence, or psychological warfare. A proud professor with alabaster bedhead sums it up best at a press conference.
“We’ve discovered the Heian equivalent of sexting.”
As of this morning, a response has been identified among the scrolls, penned in a markedly steadier hand –
You are no more an honorable being than you are a mutt.
I shall love you longer should my hands not fall off first in clutch of this quill –
and by god, you are exhausting, Ryomen.
I've been plagued by the ridiculous idea of a world caught in dystopian chaos and a Reader who's simply too awkward to say anything about it.
You could immediately tell something was wrong with your corner store from all the rubble and flames. Yet, there had been no warning nor online mention about such a disaster. Shouldn't there be people talking about it? Unsure of what to believe, you step inside and try to find the ingredients you came for.
The usual coworker you'd always banter with has been replaced by some strange beast, with several limbs and too many eyes to count. It has the same name plate pinned to its chest, bloody and torn at the edges. The creature speaks with a mechanical croak, an alien sound you'd never heard before.
"Cash or card," it rumbles.
You wonder if it'd be wise to point out the obvious: you're not an employee here, but some damned monster! And then, what? Would you be eaten? Burdened by the awkward affair of navigating the aftermath? No, you aren't socially equipped for such delicate scenarios. Someone else out there ought to ask the difficult questions, but that someone isn't you.
"Card, please," you respond politely.
As you wait for the payment to be finalized, you glance out the broken glass windows. The streets are empty, save for demonic critters occasionally coming into view. What the hell is going on?
"The second mothership should arrive soon," your unholy cashier remarks casually. "Most of the specimens have been eradicated or taken for study."
"I see," you say, turning back and reaching for your items. As the realization hits you, you freeze.
"Actually," you probe hesitantly, "I wanted these bagged. I forgot to ask for it, sorry."
"I've got time," the alien whistles, plucking a plastic bag from the roll. "You come here often?"
it was obvious when this started, it was simply a mutual understanding between two horny college students that didn’t want any random stds that this was a purely sexual relationship only.
but even so, sukuna doesn’t think he’s in the wrong for acting the way he does.
hell, even you don’t realize it.
how would you know that after taking a shower in the morning, sukuna steps out and notices one of the pledges standing at the entrance to his room, staring at your completely naked form fast asleep on his bed.
“what the fuck do you think you’re doing!” sukuna has his tatted forearm pressing against the kid’s neck shoving him into the wall, crimson eyes ablaze.
“I-i was just asked to call you down, please! I’m sorry!”
sukuna pressed even harder, ready to rip the boy’s head off, before he hears you stir in his bed. “don’t fucking look her again. you hear me?” his low threat sent obvious shivers down the pledges spine as he nodded frantically, and with a final shove into the hallway wall, sukuna backed off, slamming his door behind him, rattling the entire house.
the loud slam of the door had you stirring. rolling to your side exposing yourself more, but now for sukuna only. the bed dipped as a warm firm hand brushed your bare side giving it a squeeze. “ryo…” you mutter, voice hoarse with sleep as he hums.
“you can stay here till your class,” he answers your unasked question. you mutter something incoherent before falling back asleep, letting his hands continue caressing your back and hips, kissing your shoulder.
even during frat parties, it was a given that you’d show up simply because you wanted to be near the man. easily finding him in the crowd after a long day of classes and work. unbothered how underdressed you are, you find him sitting with his legs spread on the couches outside with his group, and you easily slip into his lap no questions asked.
his rough hands find your waist under your hoodie, letting your lips meet his, body pressing closer to his as his hand held your nape, controlling the messy kiss. his brothers would laugh, because it was obvious how down bad he was for you, without even realizing it. and just like every time before, the group would disperse to leave you and sukuna making out heavily on the couches outside. you would lazily dry hump his big bulge, for comfort, sighing and moaning as it rubbed up against your clothes, until he’d get fed up and carry you upstairs.
how much more obvious could it be when you’d call him in the middle of the night during one of the frats pledge meetings, complaining that you couldn’t sleep and he’d ditch his roll as vice president of the frat, ignoring gojo’s groans because he’d be at your door within twenty minutes max.
your moans fill the apartment as his cock stretched your dripping pussy so beautifully, pistoning back in, watching your back arch for him letting his cock go deeper and harder.
the bulging veins of his cock brushing against your gummy walls as you’d moan so deliciously. he’d kiss and bite your shoulder. thumbing your clit as his pace would pick up, fucking you into the mattress letting it soak your tears and drool until you’d cum with a loud cry. body trembling, eyes full of tears.
your hands would be lazy as they reached out for him until his face was nuzzling your shoulder, before you’d whisper a soft, “harder.”
and he’s groan every time. grip bruising on your waist, planting a foot into your mattress before slamming his entire body weight with each thrust from behind. your body would lurch forward, gripping the sheets crying as you’d wiggle your ass back into him.
“fuckin needy slut,” he’d grunt out, slapping a harsh hand against your ass making you moan louder. “haah ya think anyone else can deal with you?” he’d start rambling, groaning when you’d squeeze him tighter. “you’d scare them away with your stamina.”
your moans were music to his ears. his chest and neck flushed, as he’d smirk with each deep thrust.
“ryo! angh—harder!” you’d cry out, lips covered in spit and tears. “angh haah yes yes—ryo—“
“fhuck!” he’d shove you into a deeper arch, his propped leg propelling his fat cock rougher, bruising your insides with every mean sharp thrust, leaving you shaking and crying.
“like getting fucked like a slut, haah” his voice would drop lower the closer he got.
your body would squirm, but never stop him even when the overstimulation had you babbling like an idiot and the only thing remotely coherent was his name on your pretty tongue.
“ryo haah angh fhuck—haah!”
his stomach would turn with flustered delight everytime he heard the stupid nickname. it was different coming from your sweet voice. his core tightening up as your cheek pressed into the mattress, eyes glossy with tears he desperately liked being the reason of.
“gun’ let me cum in this pussy?” he’d pant, “fuck all my cum in ya so you can sleep like a bratty fhuck-k’in princess, mmh.”
you always got dumb on sukuna’s cock, his words fueling the euphoria as you’d babble out pleads. “cum—ryo—m’m cumming please.”
a deep throaty groan slips past his lips as you tighten around him, coating his base in more cum, the frothy white mess at his base creating sticky webs connecting to your ass as he continued fucking deep into your spasming hole. “tell me ya want my cum, princess.” he’d grunt out slamming into you as you’re shaking and crying. “cmon baby, let me fill your belly.” you moan a little louder tightening even more, knocking the wind out of him. “christ—you’re so fucking hot—“ he groans. until you’re finally able to speak.
“yes! haah cum inside me, please! angh ryo!—“
and he’d cum hard every fucking time. his body shivering as he spilled loads inside your squelching cunt. eyes rolled back, thrusts sloppy as his cum spilled around his cock with every lazy thrust, bottoming out fully, his body shivering every time, arm wrapping under you as his sweaty chest stuck to your back. his hand splashed on your belly feeling his warm cum fill you up. you could still feel his cock twitching inside you as you milked him dry.
his lips would part, an exhale rocking his body, as he pulls out. glancing at the way his heavy cock would slip our covered in your mixed arousal, his hairy base a sticky mess. his cum would ooze out of your little hole. fuck, he loves cumming inside you. he kneads your bruised ass, pulling your cheeks apart watching the globs of cum trickle down your pussy. thumb generously toying with your clit as he hugged you from the back. your legs eventually giving out just as his bulky body fell to his side, exhaling again.
it was like this everytime.
completely winded and out of breath as he’d look to his side and stare at your blissed out face cuddling into the blanket, snuggling up against his warm body, leg tossed over his thigh, neither of you bothering to clean up and falling asleep. his arm would lazily drape around you, sighing as he pulled the covers over you both, passing out right after.
and maybe you both should’ve addressed how oddly gentle he is with you. especially when he spotted you sitting with your friends on the courtyard, and took long strides before coming up behind you, hand coming up to your chin. your lips curl up into a lazy grin when you see him above you, and your own cheeks flush as his lips come down.
he hums, delighted, as you kiss him back, he pulls back, glancing at your sweet expression before he pecks your glossy soft lips with another kiss, and one more before standing back to his full height. “everything okay?” he asks, not realizing how much weight that question actually carries, because you just hum casually, ignoring the odd feeling that twists in your gut at how soft he’s being.
“kay’ I’ll see ya later tonight, ya?”
you nod again, unbothered when he gives you his usual wink. glancing briefly at his broad back retreating before turning to your friends. utahime’s jaw was slightly agape and shoko was staring inquisitively at you over her coffee cup.
your brow quirks up, what?”
“what d’you mean what? what was that?” utahime was wide eyed and confused, she looks at shoko. “is this what you were talking about?”
shoko hums, and your expression shifts to more confusion. “told you.”
“I wasn’t expecting that, you guys are actually dating,” she says it like a statement before turning to you, “you are right? dating?”
your eyes are wide in shock, shaking your head as a laugh slips out, a real laugh. “we are not dating, how many time do I have to tell you guys.”
“you’re dating,” shoko says firmly.
“we just have sex,” you clarify.
“that wasn’t sex right now. that isn’t something sukuna does, his personality is definitely not like that from what I’ve heard and seen, and it’s not something people that just have sex do,” utahime explains, and you could only look at them skeptically, trying to see if they’re fucking with you, but eventually you just sigh, shaking your head.
“he probably just got out of his lecture, and his brain is fried,” you explain, almost desperate to rationalize why he kissed you in public like that, and so softly at that, but not realizing that he’s actually done this multiple times.
in fact…he’s been doing it almost every time he sees you on campus…
“ryo,” you mutter into his back arms circling around his firm torso as he pours another shot for you both.
he hums, turning around in your arms, throwing back the shot with a hiss. pleasantly buzzed.
“ryo,” you call him again, arms still around his waist, chin pressed against his firm pecs, eyes doting up at him waiting for his full attention, but he takes it as an invitation to peck your lips.
“you’re so cute.”
your cheeks sting. because he pecks you again, a lazy smile brightening his flushed cheeks, crimson gaze low and inviting.
“ryo, you can’t—“ but you stop yourself. you don’t want to say it. you can’t kiss me like that. were not dating. because if you say it then things might change. meaning he’ll probably realize and stop kissing you like that. or realize that maybe you guys are crossing a line, and pull back. maybe it was fine being like this. it was fine just being sex buddies, that don’t fully act like it sometimes, because that would be better than not having it at all. and not having this side of sukuna would be much worse.
“you drunk already,” he snorts, brushing your chin with his thumb. “thought you weren’t a light weight anymore,” he teases, canines peaking out.
“I’m not,” you scoff, but either way he decides to take your shot too, slamming the glass on the counter, before grabbing your chin and kissing you.
you don’t argue, you never did. you kiss him back every time, moaning the same when he slips his tongue into your mouth, lifting you on the kitchen counter. neither of you bothering to stop in the middle of the party as he stands between your legs, passionately kissing. your arms wrapped securely around his neck as he holds your waist, humming in delight when you bite his lip, tugging it with a smirk.
because it doesn’t matter how many times you both clarify to yourselves and to others that this is purely about sex. he’ll still find a way to claim you in public. letting your soft whines fill the air around the party as he kissed and bit your neck before he’s fucking you fast and rough in his bedroom upstairs. smiling every time his fat cock gives a mean thrust that leaves you crying for more.
“cmon, I can’t hear ya, princess. who’s messy pussy s’this?” sukuna is pounding into you, your body folded as his muscles flex above you, keeping his hips going at a fast pace, balls smacking your ass with every thrust. “crying like a little bitch, tell me who’s fuckin’ you this’good, haah?”
“you! ryo—ah haah you ma-ah-ke me feel soo good, angh!” your tears fill your vision, sweat glistening over your tits as the headboard continues slamming into the wall with every thrust.
a pathetic groan slips past his lips, one that you’ve gotten used too whenever you clench around him while kissing his ear. his body shivers, face pressing into your neck as he continues fucking deeper. your nails scratching down his back, yours arching off the mattress.
your loud moans and the thumping of the bed against the wall was not going unheard. but gojo and the other boys now used to this every party, eventually came to terms with it and found ways to liven up the party downstairs. but other guests were definitely flustered by the overflowing sounds of strong passion coming from upstairs, it scared many from approaching either of you.
especially when you’d be completely out of breath and shivering as sukuna would drudge back downstairs shirtless to grab you some water. the party still going as he passes through the crowd to get to the kitchen, his sweats hang dangerously low on his hips, the deep v-line catching people’s attention along his sweaty happy trail that disappears into the waistband. gojo would snort at him, sipping from his beer as he eyes sukuna’s fresh scratches that litter his back. sukuna unbothered would comb a hand lazily through his hair as he grabbed the water.
he smelled of sex, musk, and you, ignoring everyone that eyed him and flushed because he definitely had that post-nut glow, his cheeks stained a light pink as he thought about you waiting in bed naked for him. and as he made his way back upstairs, he ignored the blushing women because once he entered his room he was met with his spoiled pillow princess casually laying in his bed, laying on her side as she scrolled through her phone. he passes you the water, as you sit up.
“a thank you would be nice,” he snorts, sitting beside you, watching you longingly as you sipped from the bottle.
“thanks,” you exhale, smirking when he gives you a wink, leaning in, inhaling your scent s he kissed the marks he’d left on your neck.
and maybe that was the point.
it didn’t matter to sukuna that he stopped getting approached by women. hell, he barely even noticed since most of his thoughts were consumed by school or you. he didn’t need frivolous conversations with random women.
why would he even entertain the idea when he’s walking on campus and sees the most breathtaking girl lazing around the sunny courtyard sprawled on the grass, head propped up by his hoodie that she stole that morning. her pretty lashes kissing her cheek, relaxed under the warm sun, before its broken by a light weight caging her, and a familiar pair of lips kissing her lips.
the sweet hum of delight coming from you, has him soaring, chest ablaze as he hums back, tongue finding yours before eventually pulling away. his crimson eyes always intruding but never unwanted as he memorizes your soft expression. your tongue licking the excess spit he lift on your glossy lips as you smile lazily at him.
“pleasant way to wake up, eh sleeping beauty?” he teases, always full of himself.
you shrug casually, eyes flicking up meeting his. “i was relaxing before my class, so technically you interrupted that.”
he snorts, rolling off you unbothered, sighing once his muscular back hit the grass, tattooed face being kissed by the sun. it was comfortable. it always is with you.
he hums once you lean over him, pecking his lips. he smiles lazy, almost proving his point that you both can never have enough of each other. the pecks are soft, gentle, intimate. they carried more than either of you were letting on. and yet…
his hand brushes your waist, smiling once you rest your pretty head on his shoulder, relaxing against him until your next class.
and maybe any of these moments could’ve been an opportunity to clarify this relationship. but neither of you wanted to risk the chances of it backfiring.
so you both remained like this.
well until you’re forced to address this in the future….and maybe that’s a story for another day…
bc y did I write this drabble tryna get into writing short quick fics but now I’m attached to this story and wanna make it a long ass one-shot 🙂↕️ sue me for loving a lil plot✊
Bartender!Bakugo who sees reader when she first walks in and automatically assumes she is the fruity cocktail type who gets drunk off of one sip.
Reader is actually a maneater who uses her innocent like appearance to trick men into buying her stuff. She likes to play dumb and pure when in reality she’s conniving with a head filled with filth.
Bartender!Bakugo wants to taint reader because he has a thing for ruining good girls.
Reader wants Bakugo on his knees like the pathetic man she knows he truly is.
(Y/n) hums as she steps forward to stand closer to him. She looks up at him, her voice soft and sweet as she murmurs, “Do you wanna be useful to me, Katsuki?”
Bakugo’s breath catches in his throat at the sudden closeness, her words causing his mind to wander. His usual scowl falters for just a second, just long enough to show the way his eyes darken with something far more intense than irritation. "Tch." He leans down slightly, voice dropping into a low growl as he meets her gaze dead-on. “Depends on what you mean by 'useful'."
Slowly, a coy smile appears on (y/n)’s face. Her eyes rake over his body as her eyes finally meet Bakugo’s gaze. “Well…what are you willing to do? Hm?” She knows she has him in the palm of her hand. She’s just wants to see him beg.
Any other day, Bakugo would have a snarky response ready in an instant, but right now, his brain is completely fried by the way she’s looking at him. So innocent, yet so damn seductive. He swallows hard,his eyes flickering over her features as he mumbles out, “Anything…as long as it’s you who’s asking.”
——-
Just a weee snippet of my brain expanding on this.
Bartender!Bakugo who sees reader when she first walks in and automatically assumes she is the fruity cocktail type who gets drunk off of one sip.
Reader is actually a maneater who uses her innocent like appearance to trick men into buying her stuff. She likes to play dumb and pure when in reality she’s conniving with a head filled with filth.
Bartender!Bakugo wants to taint reader because he has a thing for ruining good girls.
Reader wants Bakugo on his knees like the pathetic man she knows he truly is.
Okay but roomie is letting them hit it raw isn’t she?
Context
@justabratsworld because we’ve been bouncing ideas back and forth so they’re owed credit too
Oh totally, pregnancy scare be damned, she’s gonna get stuffed every time.
Oooo, or if she does get knocked up and since she’s been passed around by the four, no one knows who the baby daddy is so they all pitch in have to defend their perceived over involvement to their partners
😭 oh my gosh I was just thinking about what if reader gets pregnant and she’s so smug about it. Like the boys are all low key proud that one of them was able to get her pregnant and are all oddly involved with her pregnancy that it makes their girlfriends uncomfortable. Katsuki goes to ALL the doctors appointments since he’s 99% confident its his-he even dumped his girlfriend when she made a snide comment about reader being dumb enough to get knocked up. Eijiro makes reader all her meals throughout the day. Denki makes his girlfriend move off the couch just so reader has somewhere comfortable to sit while Hanta has a picture of the ultrasound as his screensaver on his phone.
Obviously they have to be there for her. Who else does she have? They would gaslight and make their girlfriends feel so shitty about being upset that they missed a date because reader was feeling soooooo sick from the morning sickness (she wasn’t)
I don’t know why, this isn’t even something I would typically want to write, but thinking about fem reader being the only female roommate in the apartment and never paying rent because she lets all the bakusquad boys take turns on her whenever they feel like it regardless of if they’re single or in a relationship
Okay but imagine the boys telling their partners, “dont worry about her, she’s just a friend” or “pft yeah babe, she’s so not my type. You dont gotta worry.” When in reality they’re plowing her in the sheets as soon as they stop hanging out with their partner.
Ugh I fear this reader would go out her way to be friends with the girlfriends to sell the lie, and so she can learn what her boys really want to try but their girls don’t want to do. Earning even more attention from them in the process
Reader would comfort the girlfriends when they come to her crying because they think their boyfriend is cheating. She’ll just coo and tell them that she lives with them and she’s never seen another girl in the apartment so theres just no way the guys are cheating. Of course the girls would believe reader because reader is their friend! Who would never lie to them! Why would she?
I think reader would eventually start to be cocky and drop very subtle hints that she’s sleeping with the guys but would gaslight so hard that the girlfriends start questioning themselves. When they mention to their boyfriend that the reader makes them uncomfortable, the guys immediately defend reader. Like over the top defending and that itself confirms to the girlfriends that their boyfriend is cheating on them with reader but they don’t confront them because they know the guys would choose reader over them in a heartbeat.
On top of that she has little nicknames for all of them based on their first names. Katsuki to Tsuki, Eijirou to Eiji, Denki to Den, Hanta to Han.
Oh and there’s definitely been more than one occasion where she was caught in someone else’s shirt or hoodie and the excuse is always that she steals everyone’s clothes so it’s not a big deal
Okay but say one of the girlfriends decide to speak up and confront reader in front of everyone one night. Like full blown yelling, accusations, evidence and reader being the manipulative person she is, looks at her the guys with tears in her eyes and she plays the victim card.
I don’t know why, this isn’t even something I would typically want to write, but thinking about fem reader being the only female roommate in the apartment and never paying rent because she lets all the bakusquad boys take turns on her whenever they feel like it regardless of if they’re single or in a relationship
Okay but imagine the boys telling their partners, “dont worry about her, she’s just a friend” or “pft yeah babe, she’s so not my type. You dont gotta worry.” When in reality they’re plowing her in the sheets as soon as they stop hanging out with their partner.
Ugh I fear this reader would go out her way to be friends with the girlfriends to sell the lie, and so she can learn what her boys really want to try but their girls don’t want to do. Earning even more attention from them in the process
Reader would comfort the girlfriends when they come to her crying because they think their boyfriend is cheating. She’ll just coo and tell them that she lives with them and she’s never seen another girl in the apartment so theres just no way the guys are cheating. Of course the girls would believe reader because reader is their friend! Who would never lie to them! Why would she?
I think reader would eventually start to be cocky and drop very subtle hints that she’s sleeping with the guys but would gaslight so hard that the girlfriends start questioning themselves. When they mention to their boyfriend that the reader makes them uncomfortable, the guys immediately defend reader. Like over the top defending and that itself confirms to the girlfriends that their boyfriend is cheating on them with reader but they don’t confront them because they know the guys would choose reader over them in a heartbeat.
I don’t know why, this isn’t even something I would typically want to write, but thinking about fem reader being the only female roommate in the apartment and never paying rent because she lets all the bakusquad boys take turns on her whenever they feel like it regardless of if they’re single or in a relationship
Okay but imagine the boys telling their partners, “dont worry about her, she’s just a friend” or “pft yeah babe, she’s so not my type. You dont gotta worry.” When in reality they’re plowing her in the sheets as soon as they stop hanging out with their partner.
Ugh I fear this reader would go out her way to be friends with the girlfriends to sell the lie, and so she can learn what her boys really want to try but their girls don’t want to do. Earning even more attention from them in the process
Reader would comfort the girlfriends when they come to her crying because they think their boyfriend is cheating. She’ll just coo and tell them that she lives with them and she’s never seen another girl in the apartment so theres just no way the guys are cheating. Of course the girls would believe reader because reader is their friend! Who would never lie to them! Why would she?
I don’t know why, this isn’t even something I would typically want to write, but thinking about fem reader being the only female roommate in the apartment and never paying rent because she lets all the bakusquad boys take turns on her whenever they feel like it regardless of if they’re single or in a relationship
Okay but imagine the boys telling their partners, “dont worry about her, she’s just a friend” or “pft yeah babe, she’s so not my type. You dont gotta worry.” When in reality they’re plowing her in the sheets as soon as they stop hanging out with their partner.
okay… so the person who stole my work is @loveofkatsukislife and they definitely have me blocked so I can’t see it.
my inside source/MVP sent me screenshots that it’s still up and running.
below I have attached photos of their work and mine (the orginal). it’s literally the EXACT SAME FUCKING WORDING!!!!
and you can clearly see I posted mine almost a year ago and they posted theirs like a couple days ago.
⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣
the one below is my original. didn’t even bother to highlight the similarities cuz I’d be highlighting every single paragraph.
⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣
i have no way of getting in touch with this this person, because as I said they’ve blocked me, but i just wanted to warn you all that your works could be stolen as well. i’m tagging @fanfic-plagiarism-watchdog so they are aware as well.
also, they left out denki. if you’re gonna steal it at least steal it with your entire chest bro.
Big fan of the yandere x yandere dynamic that is the obsessive partner who’s using the other as a replacement for someone else/ the replacement who doesn’t care because they have them now and that’s why more than “the original” can say.
It’s real fucked up how a love so strong can be nothing but a lie and yet they convinced you that it’s real. Love that shit
They both know that this isn’t real love. That neither can have what they really want, not truly, but this is close enough.
So what if they’re just playing pretend? Their true love was someone they could have never been with, couldn’t even reach out and touch. And with them gone now, they needed a distraction, someone happy to play pretend and act the role. Who’d be willing to be used as a doll, a simple replacement.
So what if their love wants them to dress and look like that other person? They’re happy and they shower them with love and affection and isn’t that good enough? They don’t have to change anything about their personality to keep them, only their appearance. If they knew it’d be that easy then maybe they wouldn’t have killed the “original”
Pairing: Dark/Yandere Keigo Takami/Hawks x (female) Reader
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
SUMMARY: As Endeavour Todoroki’s quirkless daughter, you’ve been labeled as a burden your entire life. To your luck (or the lack of it) Hawks is more than willing to take care of you.
Reader takes Fuyumi's place, but ignoring the age logistics. You're around 20/21.
AN: Proud of myself cause this is the longest work I've written. Thank you for waiting, really hope you guys like this. Please, reblog and give me feedback 😊 enjoy!
--
The call gets disconnected, just like the previous one and the one before that.
‘The number you have called is currently–’
Biting your lip, you tap on the call button, pushing the phone against your ear once again. Please, pick up. Please, pick up.
Your prayers are successful as the call finally gets accepted, too many moments later.
“Dad?”
There’s a low scoff on the other side of the line. With a swift glance behind your shoulder, you enter the large bathroom and fumble with the lock of the door.
“Dad? I– It's me.”
The soft click provides you with the tiniest amount of security and you hope the walls are thick enough to muffle down the sound of your voice.
“What is it?” the annoyance in Endeavour's voice is clear as day. Your dad has never had the time or patience to waste with you, much less now. “I’m busy. Make it quick.”
“I don’t like it here.” you start, holding onto the phone like it’s a lifeline. “Can you come pick me up?”
“What nonsense is this? Have you lost your mind, like your mother did?” the words are cruel and sharp - a combination that your father does like no other. “It’s only been a few hours and you’ve started complaining already? Ridiculous!”
“But I don’t know him. I don’t feel comfortable here. With him.” you try again, desperate. “Dad, please, don’t make me do this. Please, please, I don’t to–”
“Enough!” you flinch at the harsh tone. “End this nonsense right now. There’s no place left for you at my house. You are exactly where you belong. Ungrateful brat. Be grateful that Hawks accepted to have some quirkless trash as a wife.”
The venomous insult has you recoiling. Many are the times that the words ‘quirkless’ and ‘trash’ have been hurled your way and yet the dull ache in your heart never lessens.
Your dad pays no mind to your pained silence, continuing with his angry frustration.
“I’m warning you for the final time, so listen carefully. You are Hawk’s wife now, so behave like one. Do not even think about returning home, you hear me?” he hisses sharply. “Do not drag the family name through the mud just because of your pathetic whining.”
The call abruptly disconnects.
You stare at the wall, apathetic as cold emptiness slowly consumes you, inch by inch. You feel lost. Empty. Brain hardly able to acknowledge what’s happening to you. God, why is this happening to you?
You don’t want to stay here. In another man’s house - a man you hardly know. Hawks. Keigo, like he asked you to call him when your dad’s driver dropped you off like a delivery package. A mail-order bride.
You don’t know what to do. What can you do?
Running away is out of the question. It’s not even an option, not when you’re the daughter of Japan’s Pro-hero Number One and your husband sits on the second rank.
But the truth is that there’s never been much of a rebellious streak inside you. No, you are docile and simple. Being rebellious was a trait more present in your brother's disposition. Natsuo. Shoto. Touya.
The thought of them has you hesitating for a moment, but you quickly dismiss the idea. No doubt they would try to help, but to what extent would they truly be successful?
Their relationship with dad was a strained one, so tense that it could break at any moment. You’d hate to be the one to tear the family apart.
You wonder what dad will tell them - that he just sold you off like a broodmare? Or will he make a more elegant explanation?
Will your brothers even believe whatever strange justification your dad comes up with?
You haven’t seen them for a while. Natsuo spent most of his time on his college campus and Shoto lived in the U.A dorms. All while you took care of the house.
Would they believe you married Hawks even though there’s no wedding?
No grandiose wedding ceremony to marry off the only daughter of the great Endeavour, no. Only a legal contract binding you to him, papers that you barely got a chance to read properly before your dad demanded for your signature. And just like that you’re married on legal terms.
It’s hard to believe it happened this morning, less than two hours ago when it feels like a nightmare that is dragging out for too long.
A knock on the door snaps you out of your brainstorm session.
“Hey. You good in there?”
Keigo. You really hope he didn’t catch the hushed phone call. That makes you tuck the phone into your back pocket.
You make a little noise with your throat, clearing your voice. “Hum, yeah. I… Just a minute.”
You wait a moment in the spacious bathroom, taking the opportunity to check out your reflection in the mirror on top of the impeccable white marble vanity.
There’s nothing different about your face, despite the storm of emotions that devastates you on the inside. Nothing indicates the horror you’re experiencing, maybe except for the light downturn of your lips.
Your hands smoothes down the wrinkles along your silk blouse. Your dad had barked at you to change into a proper dress, something more elegant than a blouse and pants, but there had been no time to alter outfits.
The last hour you spent at home was total chaos. Hurrying to pack your stuff and now that you think about it, you didn’t even get a chance to pack your favorite clothes. Most of your belongings stayed behind, unable to fit the two suitcases the maids helped you fill with whatever you could find. Clothes. Shoes. Skincare. Makeup. Some jewelry.
Oh, you even forgot your laptop! Well, you suppose that’s the least of your concerns.
Straightening your back with a deep breath that does little to calm your nerves, you finally reach for the door.
Keigo is casually leaning against the adjacent wall with his hands chuffed inside the pant’s pockets, fluffy blonde brows rising as you close the en-suite bathroom.
“Took you long enough in there. Was getting worried you had fallen down the toilet or somethin’.” he jokes. He’s not wearing the yellow Pro-Hero costume, just a tight shirt and pants.
Casual. Comfortable.
He pushes himself off the wall, nodding towards the room door.
“C’mon, let me show you the rest of the penthouse. It’s yours now as well.” he pauses, looking at you with a knowing expression. “Unless you wanna go back to hiding in the bathroom to beg Endeavour some more?”
Your face falls, eyes widening with shock.
“Oh, I…” you stammer, like a deer caught in the headlights. “I’m sorry. I just–”
Keigo stops you with a wave of his hand, walking over to you. You gulp as a reflex when he stops, standing right in front of you, his red wings ruffling behind him.
Hands are placed over your shoulders, warm and firm. The proximity has your body tensing up, nerves prickling you.
It’s the first time you’re seeing him up close, eyes shyly noticing the small details. The faint scars scarring his cheek. The short blonde stubble around his chin. The small piercing on his ear. There’s a gentle scent emanating from him, maybe a body lotion or soap, you’re not sure.
“Hey. It’s fine. I’m not mad.” he gently says, one finger tilting your chin up so your eyes meet his golden ones. “I know you must be scared. I’d be too if I was in your shoes.”
“Getting married is a huge deal. I’m also pretty sure this was kinda... unexpected, right? You probably weren’t expecting any of this. Were you? Hm?”
Your silence elicits his fingers to dig deeper into your shoulders, and you hesitantly nod. A bad feeling pools in your belly.
“C’mon, there’s no need to be so shy. You can speak to me. It’s just me, Keigo. Your husband.” a shiver follows down your spine when one of his hands slowly slides down your naked arm, calloused palm touching over the length of your skin.
The heat of his palm, albeit gentle, feels scorching hot when it lands on your wrist. Burning your skin. Marking you.
“... and that means no secrets between us. Cause a good wife always tells the truth to her husband. All that stuff about having bling trust on your husband, ‘kay?”
Keigo’s tone changes in the slightest as he speaks, a more serious undertone coating his words. His peculiar behavior has often reached your ear, mostly by the angry complaints of your father, but this… this seems insane.
He’s insane. The way he talks to you makes you uneasy. It makes you want to evade his touch and run back home, back to the safety of your room - your little heaven of peace.
The situation that has you trapped is far too weird, too abnormal for you to even know what to say or what to think.
“So, what do you say?” his lips curl into a small smirk. “Will you be my perfect little wife?”
There’s no other option other than nodding, a shaky movement of your head. That doesn’t satisfy Keigo, his lips pouting dramatically. One hand cups the side of your face, rugged fingers scratching your gentle skin.
Your heart skips a beat when his thumb reaches for your lips, the tinted lip gloss smudging as the pad of his finger drags over your lower lip. Heat burns in your cheeks, your whole face blazing warm at his touch.
Keigo’s eyes are fixed on your lips, captivated by the shiny moisture coating them. You don’t dare moving a single muscle, as frozen as a porcelain statue. Too scared that one move might trigger him into kissing you.
It happens anyways despite the little hope you harbored. Keigo leans forward and there’s barely time to think - or to dodge him - before his mouth is pressing against yours, soft lips applying minimal pressure into the kiss. It’s tender, gentle. It’s your first kiss.
A hum rumbles through his chest and his hand slides to the back of your head, fingers stretching to keep you in place. Not allowing you to run away from him. Oh gosh.
The kiss deepens, more pressure being added as Keigo teasingly nibbles your lower lip. There’s no other option but to gap your lips, allowing access to your mouth.
Keigo takes full advantage, sneaky tongue tracing the shape of your lips before pushing past your lips, almost making you gag at the sensation. It’s slimy and wet, and it feels weird to have roaming around your mouth, touching and feeling around.
Before you even realize what you’re doing, your hands are pushing against his chest and Keigo accomplies, pulling away with a breathy chuckle.
You exhale, wiping the smear of saliva and gloss with the back of your hand.
“Sweet like candy.” Keigo says, eyes fixed on you as he licks his lips. “And a virgin, right? At least, that’s what your dad told me. Pure, untouched virgin and all that.”
You gulp at the hunger in his eyes.
“Don’t be scared. I’m not a monster, I promise.” the corner of his lip curves, giving away the unsettling smirk behind. “Promise to take good care of you tonight. Scout’s honor.”
Physical touch is a concept you’re hardly familiar with. Anyone that looks carefully into your family can quickly realize that they are not one for effusive displays of affection.
Hugs, kisses, cuddling - none of that. If you think hard enough, there might be some vague memories of your mom wrapping her arms around you, back when you were a little child. Cradling you into a sweet although chilly embrace, gently rocking your body into sleeping.
But those memories are so distant, so fuzzy that you can’t even be sure they are real. The ones that remain are your dad and brothers.
And if your mind doesn’t fail you, the last time your dad gave you any sort of physical attention wasn’t a pleasant situation, one that resulted with you receiving a nasty slap for being so loud and rowdy that you woke him up on his day off.
So, no. Showing love through touch is not something you know about. But Keigo sure does. His touch is the only constant throughout the apartment tour.
As he guides you through the different rooms, his hand never leaves yours. Warm and somewhat gritty. Solid enough to keep you attached to him, even when you take small steps away from him. Could be considered a sweet gesture, if only your mind wasn’t finding it so suffocating.
When finally you reach the last division left, Keigo wraps his toned arms around your waist, pushing you flush against his body.
A gasp escapes from your lips, both surprised and shocked at the sudden gesture and your hands immediately fly over to his, pushing for a moment before you realize that you can’t do that so directly.
You can’t push him away. He’s your husband.
“... and this is where you’ll be spending most time. The kitchen. Had it remodeled especially for you.” Keigo proudly says, chin slotting on top of your left shoulder. “Endeavour seemed pretty confident in your cooking skills, he even bragged a whole ton about that. Delicious, traditional food and all that. Works well enough cause I’m sort of a glutton, y’know?”
He pecks the side of your exposed neck as you take in your surroundings, drinking in every single detail.
The amount of sunlight coming from the large windows is impressive, the bright and warm light cascading down on the large middle island and the long counter made of white marble. Every piece of equipment and machine looking like it belongs to a restaurant’s kitchen, modern and brand new.
Everything is so impeccably shiny and clean, without a single speck of dust, that you wonder if the kitchen has ever been used before. Likely not.
“Used to eat fast food everyday. Easy and cheap.” Keigo confirms your assumption.
His arms tighten around you, squeezing you tight enough to leave you a bit breathless.
“But that’s in the past. Cause now I have a pretty wifey who’s gonna spoil me with yummy food, right, babe? My little housewife.” he coos, similar to how one would speak to a little baby. “You’re gonna be real busy. Cooking everyday for your hard-working husband.”
The more Keigo speaks, the more uneasy you get. Why is he being so weird about it?
He’s always had sort of a peculiar personality, you know that much from the tabloid’s fixation on documenting and discussing the every public interaction of the popular Pro-Hero that occupies the second position in the rankings but it was your dad’s angry ramblings about the younger man that gave you the confirmation of Hawks’s eccentric and unique personality. But you didn’t think he’d be a… freak.
The uneasiness that is slowly taking over you only gets worse when something - something that grows hard with every passing moment - pokes against your lower back, firm and insistent.
A yelp gets stuck in your throat and you jump without thinking when a calloused hand delves underneath your blouse, warm fingers pinching the soft skin of your stomach.
“C’mon, don’t be shy. I wanna hear you say it.” his mouth hovers over your ear, teeth playfully biting the sensitive earlobe. His hand graduatelly slips lower until it reaches the hem of your pants, giving it a playful tug.
“You’re gonna cook for me, right?”
A shudder travels through your body, raising goosebumps over the expense of your skin.
“I’ll…cook for you, yes.” you stammer the words out, but Keigo isn’t done with you yet.
He tuts, tongue swiping as light as a feather across the shell of your ear. “You’re gonna cook for me and what else. Go on, say it.”
The knot lodged on your stomach won’t stop twisting and warping, making you experience things like never before. Stress, anxiety, fear. Everything at once.
“I’ll…” you hesitate, voice so low that it breaks.
Keigo encourages you further. “Hm hm, keep going. I’m all ears.”
“I’ll..” you start, tongue feeling too heavy to move. “I’ll be your housewife.”
Keigo rewards you with a nasty growl and much to your horror, he pushes himself harder against you, pulling you against the kitchen island. Trapped between the cold marble and Keigo’s firm body, there’s no way to slip away from him.
There’s no way to escape Keigo as he sets up a slow rocking motion, shamelessly dry humping you in the middle of the kitchen.
There’s nothing for you to do except to push back the disgust that grows with each breathless moan that resonates over your ear and accept your destiny.
A few years ago, when you were a somewhat silly dumb teenager, you’d have fantasies about your wedding night.
Rosy and dreamy fantasies about how perfect that night was supposed to be, how romance and love would fill the atmosphere until you were dizzy with emotions.
A strong and handsome husband that would have the softest lips, peppering kisses all over your body. Gentle hands whose touch would be enough to make you see stars. He’d be sweet and kind and he would take his time with you.
Now, on your first night as a married woman, you realize just how unrealistic your teenage fantasies were.
Your body writhes on its own as Keigo slowly pushes his hips forward, forcing his cock all the way inside your cramped pussy. The problem isn’t his size. He’s not too big or too small. Just average, you suppose.
But the problem lies in the painful fact that this is your first time and Keigo seems more focused on getting as deep as he can instead of going easy on you.
“Oh, fuck. You’re really tight, huh.” Keigo pants, forehead pressing against yours. One of your hands instinctively reaches out to push on his chest, desperate for some distance, for some much needed relief.
But Keigo is fast in stopping you, grabbing your hands with his own, forcing each hand to lay flat near your head.
“...it hurts.”
Your whining gets smothered down by Keigo’s lips, insistent in keeping you quiet. His hips rock against you, pulling halfway out before drilling back inside with impressive determination that earns a muffled distressed gasp from you everytime.
Your walls sting despite the unhurried pace Keigo sets. Not too fast, but not too slow either. Probably the best middle-ground tempo he could find. But it’s not enough for you. Your pussy aching with each thrust, struggling to accommodate the foreign intrusion.
Keigo pulls away from the kiss, with a breathless groan that feels overly graphic. His face hovers close enough for the ragged breaths and pants to hit you, leaving a warm cast of air.
Keigo releases one of your hands and his now free hand travels down, expertly hooking under your knee before pulling the leg up to your chest. Opening you up. Discomfort flares up in your leg at the uncomfortable position, cramps start to form in your muscles and there's a malicious grin forming in Keigo’s face at the sight of your struggle.
“C’mon, don’t be a brat, you can take it.” he purrs, face bending down to press a kiss on your knee. “You’re already taking my cock like a champ. Keep that tightness up and you’re gonna make me cum soon. Fuck.”
He grunts, strands of honey hair hanging in his forehead, his skin dewy with sweat. Behind him, the wings won’t stop twitching and shaking, adding more weight as Keigo falls on top of you, crushing you against the bed with his solid weight.
He fucks you faster, going deeper with the new angle that has you wincing everytime. The erratic pace rocks both you and the bed in a way that feels like an earthquake, headboard banging with such force on the wall that you won’t be surprised if tomorrow there’s a dent.
You also won’t be surprised if there are visible dents littering your body as well.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he moans, chasing his high like a madman. “You’re gonna take it, aren’t you? Take my cum like the good, little wifey you are. Fuck, yeah!”
The symphony of groans rises in volume just like the growing urgency in the few thrusts Keigo punctures right before he buries his face in your neck, an animalistic sound rumbling deep from his chest as his body comes to a halt, every inch of cock buried deep inside you.
After that, the room is strangely quiet.
Keigo’s warm breathing hits your neck, irregular and shallow as he takes his time getting himself back together. He takes no initiative to move away from you and you lack the necessary strength to push him away, so there’s no other option but to remain on your back, smothered under his weight, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
Feeling the soreness seeping through the soft muscles while realizing how sticky your skin has become. The dull cramps that start building up in the lower part of your body. Leg still hoisted up over Keigo’s arm, settled into the stiff position.
You wince at the member lodged inside of you, turning flaccid with each passing moment. What is impossible to ignore is the fluid that oozes from your hole, slowly trickling downwards.
“That was insane. Fuck, I even think you’re officially the best fuck of my life.” he declares with a satisfied sigh, voice hoarse.
Finally, after what it feels like an eternity - even if probably only has been a few minutes - Keigo moves his arm away and you sigh in relief when your leg falls down to the bed, stiff and sore.
He pulls back on his knees, a soft grunt escaping from him when he removes himself from inside you and you can finally breathe properly without his weight pressing you down.
He heads for the bathroom, feet padding on the floor as he walks away with a yawn.
You doze off, exhaustion making your eyes finally close as you find some thin peace in the darkness.
The marital troubles begin less than two days after you become Keigo’s wife.
You figure it to be a good moment to ask for permission. Your husband - it still feels awkward to say that, even in your mind - is happily munching on the dinner you rushed to cook after he wasted nearly the entire afternoon by keeping you in bed, performing other marital duties.
He’s insatiable when it comes to sex and you’ve come to realize that his appetite is only satisfied when you end up with a sore, achy pussy that leaks copious amounts of cum he fills you with.
The reality of your situation is slowly falling upon you, forcing you to realize that this isn’t just some phase of your life. No, it’s not a phase. This is your life now.
Your father never called back, not even a single message to check up on you. Part of you thinks that he must’ve blocked you. He did make it abundantly clear that you’re no longer a part of his family.
So now, you’re trying to find a way to make things better for yourself. Online college had been the only compromise your dad accepted at the time, so at least you have a degree.
Keigo’s short leave is almost ending, you only know this because Keigo complains about it all the time, which means that soon he’ll be going back to his agency, the patrols, the rescue missions…
Sure, Keigo did blabber some stuff about you staying a housewife, but you do hope that he can be convinced otherwise.
“How’s the food?” you ask, catching some vegetables with the fork. The question is pointless, given that the answer lies on the plate before Keigo, mountains of teriyaki chicken and mashed potatoes stacked on the plate.
Keigo grins, shoving more food into his mouth. “Think cookin’ might be your quirk after all, babe. Those Michellin-star chefs got nothing on you. Trust me.”
A chuckle leaves your lips before you even realize it. That might be the first time Keigo actually made you laugh.
“I was meaning to ask, you’re going back to work tomorrow, right?” you ask as casually as possible, pushing the fork to your mouth.
Keigo hums, before he stops and shakes his head. “Nah, I changed the dates so I can get a few more days with you. Probably heading back on sunday. Maybe monday if I can pull it off.”
“Oh okay.” you nod.
He looks at you, the edges of his lips curling into a small grin. “Why? Want me to take more days off? I’m sure I can make it work, if you really want me to.”
You pause, mushing down some broccoli with the fork for a moment before you answer.
“Well, I… I was wondering…” you hesitate, trying to measure your words. “...that when you go back to work, maybe I could get a job? If it’s fine by you, of course! It’s just, well, you’re gonna be busy with work and I’ll be home alone all day. So, if I get a job then I’d be doing something useful, right?”
The teasing grin slowly dies down as Keigo stares at you, eyebrows arching. “A job?”
Your nod isn’t as assertive as you wish it was and to make it worse, Keigo doesn’t answer right away, taking his sweet time chewing another mouthful of food before taking a few sips from his beer.
And then he explodes in laughter.
Eyebrows arching in amusement while Keigo wipes an imaginary tear from his eye.
The expression on your face must be transparent enough to show your feelings, you realize so when Keigo coos at you, hand settling on top of yours.
“Did I hurt your feelings, doll? Aww, c’mon, don’t be sad.” he says with a pouty lip, not a trace of seriousness in him. “You’re all delicate and nice. You wouldn’t last a single day working a nine-to-five job. Those things are brutal. Trust me when I say that you’re not cut out for that.”
You stare at him, stunned. He’s making you look weak and pathetic. Something your father would too.
“But I–”
“Besides, if you really wanna be busy that bad, I’m sure we can work something out.” Keigo doesn’t give you the chance to speak before he’s cutting you off, his grin growing wider - and sinister. “I’m sure a baby would keep you fully booked.”
Being Endeavour’s only daughter hadn’t been the glamorous life assumed by the tabloids. Sure, you lived in the comfort of a huge house filled with staff that was more than willing to satisfy your needs.
Not a single day in your life went by struggling for money or food. You had enough designer clothes to overflow your room’s closet and more jewelry than needed. Safety, comfort, money - you had it all.
But materialistic luxury and comfort hardly meant anything when so many restrictions were imposed upon you.
Your dad was strict - even more considering the quirkless failure he claimed you to be. Not to mention that you are a girl. That alone downgraded your value by a ton, at least to your father’s eyes. That meant being homeschooled for the better part of your life, with harsh tutors and teachers that demanded nothing less than perfection from you.
Leaving the house for whatever reasons may be meant begging your father for permission and his answer was always unsurprisingly negative. Your brothers, despite being nice, were too busy with their own lives.
In the end, you were left alone - no social life and no friends.
But as bad as it was, you grew accustomed to it. It was your life and granted that it could be much worse.
Marrying Keigo - as frightening as it was - isn’t as bad as you expected. He’s not violent. He’s not abusive. As peculiar and bizarre that Keigo is, he’s not entirely a bad husband, you reluctantly admit.
He takes care of you, through both big and small gestures. You don’t even have to ask for gifts before they are given to you. Books. Jewelry. Clothes.
He makes an effort to get to know you. Your likes and dislikes. Always eager to know more about you. About the things that make you happy or sad.
He shows you affection - something that used to be so foreign to you. He kisses and hugs you, his touch always so warm and soft as he drowns you in affection.
But Keigo is not a saint either. Far from it.
He doesn’t like it when you talk too much about your family. The way he firmly steers away the conversation when you mention how badly you miss your brothers is enough proof that your husband wants nothing but distance from your old life.
His own family remains a mystery to you, with Keigo setting up boundaries at that sensitive topic. The only family he’s interested in is the future family that the two of you will build together.
He hates when you do anything that doesn’t suit him. Cooking anything other than his favorite meals always ends up with him giving you the cold shoulder. Choosing a movie or a show that he doesn’t like has him instantly taking over the remote control, changing the TV to whatever he wants to see.
Keigo doesn’t give in easily and there’s no attempt of an amicable compromise or whatsoever. You do what he wants, not the other way.
In the end, it dawns on you that marrying Keigo wasn’t a salvation. It never was. It was merely exchanging from one prison to another and a part of you believes that your dad knew that.
A few days after Keigo restarts his work schedule, you take the opportunity to leave the apartment.
However, grocery shopping takes far longer than you anticipated and the sun is already starting to hide in the horizon when you finally make your way back to the apartment.
You get inside with the bags full of groceries, struggling to close the door when a voice resonates from behind.
“Where were you?”
You yelp at the frightening sight that the living room has become. Red feathers are sprayed all over the room - the floor, the couch, the furniture - creating a confusing mess of crimson that awfully resembles a murder scene. And in the center of it all, Keigo stiffly stands with arms crossed over his chest.
But what’s more frightening is the solemn expression on his face. Blank and devoid of any humor, serious as a stone. His golden eyes are sharp, raking over you like you’ve committed a serious, immoral crime.
A cold shiver runs through your body. You’ve never seen Keigo this serious, without the usual friendly grin and the humorous jokes. That makes you a bit nervous.
“Did your dad not teach you any manners? Cause I asked you something and I’m still waiting on the answer.” the harshness of his voice makes you feel cold, despite the soft heat that comes with summer.
“Uh, I went to the store….for groceries.” you tentatively raise one hand, showing the heavy bag hanging from it.
Keigo just stares at you, unfazed.
“Which store?”
You look at him, confused.
“The one down the street. Right in the corner of the-”
“To buy what?”
“We ran out of carrots yester–”
“With whose permission?”
“I-”
“With whose permission?” he repeats with a silver of irritation, taking a step towards you. “Cause I sure as hell don’t remember you asking me about this. So, I’d like for you to explain why you left the apartment without talking with me first.”
Your lips part with shock, shoulders slumping in the slightest.
“Did you check your phone? I texted you, even called you a few times. But I guess you were too busy to answer your husband, right? Nah, you just went out there, not a single care in the world. Who cares if I was here, waiting and worried sick ‘bout you. ” he spits the words, bitterly chuckling before he turns around, stomping his way down the hall.
Anxiety builds inside you, layer after layer until you’re overflowing with it, chewing your lower lip.
You don’t understand. He never mentioned anything about not going out and you just assumed Keigo wouldn’t object to it. It was just grocery shopping, nothing much.
But maybe you should have asked. Maybe you should’ve been more careful, more attentive. That’s what a good wife does. You can practically hear the echo of your dad berating at your stupidity. Stupid. Useless. Quirkless.
You stay frozen in the same spot, brain thinking too slow and too fast at the same time but without providing you a solution.
Slowly moving, you take the grocery bags to the kitchen, putting away all the food with a heavy guilt-prickling mind. Hopefully you can appease Keigo's irritation by cooking his favorite dish.
Dinner takes place an hour later, the tense mood highlighted by the heavy silence that is only broken by the scraping of the cutlery. Keigo doesn’t bother looking at you, a light frown still engraved in his face.
Apologies are stuck in the tip of your tongue, just ready to spill at any moment but somehow they don’t. You just can’t bring yourself to speak. Keigo matches your silence, eyes trained on his phone as he eats.
He barely glances your way when his food is finished, leaving his plate on the table before he goes back to the room.
The coldness remains for the rest of the evening. Keigo doesn’t speak for the rest of the night, nor does he touch you - the first time since you got married.
The next morning you rise earlier than usual after spending the entire night mulling over the argument.
It weighs uncomfortably in your mind, repeating itself over and over again till you’re lost. Intrusive guilt settles in your mind, making you both sad and insecure about your actions.
The kitchen is swallowed by gloominess and darkness when you enter it but you don’t mind. It matches your mood. Sleep-deprived and stressed out.
You’re putting together the ingredients for a white chocolate cake - Keigo’s favorite - when suddenly arms wrap around your waist, frightening you.
Your shriek echoes through the kitchen before you get the chance to turn your face around and realize it’s only Keigo.
He chortles for a moment before burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. You remain paralyzed, unsure of what to say despite the turmoil that takes place inside you.
“I’m sorry. About yesterday.” Keigo mutters, face buried in the crook of your neck. “I might’ve had…overreacted a bit.”
The tension melts away from your body and mind, releasing all of its heavy weight. Everything is gonna be fine. You feel so light and free suddenly.
Keigo must’ve noticed that because he gently swirls your body around, making you face him. His hand cups your cheek, thumb gently rubbing the skin underneath.
His expression is apologetic until he starts speaking.
“I shouldn't have said those things. I hurt your feelings and I’m really sorry for that.” he apologies, “I was upset and worried and those emotions took the best of me. But…”
You raise your head, eyes searching for his.
“... you have to admit that some of the fault goes to you as well. You really shouldn’t have left the apartment without asking me first.” the words are coated with a softness that doesn’t seem all that genuine. Some of the tension returns.
“I’m your husband, that means I get worried ‘bout you. Can’t make me be the bad guy just for tryin’ to look after you, can you?”
Keigo looks at you, sighing.
“Listen, I just… if anything happened to you, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. You’re the most precious person in my life, you’re my wife and I love you. A lot.” his fingers tighten up almost imperceptibly around your face. “So can you really blame me for trying to keep you safe?”
Your fingers weakly try to pull his hand away from your cheek, without success.
“But I was fine, Keigo. Nothing would’ve happened.”
He chuckles, a dry sound with no amusement underneath it.
“If you saw the amount of fucked up shit I see everyday, you wouldn’t be saying that.” his words stun you, but Keigo doesn’t seem to mind. “Women getting robbed, raped and murdered left and right, all the time. And guess what you are? A woman. A defenseless, quirkless woman.”
There’s a cold shudder running down your spine, giving you goosebumps.
His tone, demeaning and derogatory, sounds awfully similar to the one your father used with you every time he was forced to address you.
“Not to mention that you’re my wife. Hawks’ wife. That makes you a target to all the bad guys out there. And trust me, they won’t hesitate to use you to get to me. You get what I’m saying, right? Sweetheart.”
You gulp with a dry throat, practically sensing Keigo’s patience wearing thin with each moment. Head moving without your consent to nod at him. Yes, you hear him - loud and clear.
“Yeah…yes, I understand that.”
Keigo nods, apprehension plastered in his face, clearly not convinced by your words but he drops the matter. Doesn’t matter if you agree or not, if you’re happy or not, as long as he gets his way. And of course he does.
He pulls you into his arms, pushing your face to his chest while pressing a tender kiss to the crown of your head.
“No more outside trips, alright?” his question is merely rhetorical. “Not without running it by me, at least.”
You nod once again. Not because you want to, but because it dawns you that there’s nothing else you can do. This is your life now, whether you like it or not.
The first anniversary of your ‘marriage’ is a bittersweet day.
You wake up to a strange tingling over the expanse of your neck, similar to the brush of a soft feather against your skin. Your eyes flutter open at the ticking feeling, the low chirping of birds revealing the early hour of the morning.
A yawn slips from your lips as you rub your eyes, fighting back the drowsiness. You feel like you’re running on fumes, unable to have a decent night’s sleep in months.
The pain that stretches across your back and torso only adds up to the exhaustion, your muscles somewhat sore.
“Rise and shine, sweetheart!”
You look up just in time to catch Keigo crossing the threshold of the door, a small round cake precariously balanced in one hand and a wrapped gift in the other. His red wings spread out almost majestically, carrying him through the air until he softly lands by your side in bed.
Keigo immediately ditches the gift and helps you sit in the bed, fluffing out the pillows against your back.
“Happy anniversary.” his lips press against yours, roping you into a warm kiss, before depositing the cake in your lap.
White chocolate, as usual. You’ve eaten so much white chocolate these past months that your mind has developed a genuine disgust for it. Still, you force out a grateful smile, his morning stubble scratching your lips as you kiss his cheek.
“For you too.”
Keigo grins, digging into the cake with a spoon before offering you the first bite. It’s delicious but nauseatingly sweet at the same time.
“Can you believe that it’s been a whole year since we got married? Feels like it was only yesterday that we got together.” he muses, taking a spoonful of cake for himself this time. “Looks like it’s true what people say, time does fly by when you’re living the time of your life.”
You refuse his attempt to feed you another piece of cake, the hints of nausea starting to turn your stomach. You wish he had come with a normal breakfast tray instead of cake.
Keigo takes your left hand into his own, thumb stroking the ring decorating your annular finger.
“And to be honest, this has been the best year of my life. Never been happier than this.” he confesses. “I love you, so so much. And you love me back, right?”
Your lips part, a resigned ‘yes’ ready to spill from your mouth. And then a loud squeal cuts through the air.
Repressing back a tired sigh, you start pushing yourself out of bed when Keigo shakes his head, stopping you with a hand.
“Nu-uh, I got it. Just sit back and relax, babe. You deserve a break.”
The promised break lasts about a minute as Keigo seems hell-bent on spending every moment with you. Soon, he’s walking back inside the room with the small baby nestled in his arms, choosing to stand near your side of the bed.
“Little baby bird over here wants to celebrate the occasion with mommy and daddy.” Keigo uses that special soft tone with your daughter, peppering small kisses over her tiny face. She giggles and coos, crying fit already forgotten.
You watch them with a faint smile tugging at your lips.
Despite every flaw of Keigo, you can’t help but be grateful for his doting nature when it comes to your daughter. Sure, Keigo never changes her diapers or deals with her during her occasional meltdowns and tantrums but you recognize that it could be worse.
She’s the apple of his eyes and he spoils her rotten, not afraid to shower her with love and affection. You could never imagine your dad kissing or hugging you the way Keigo does with your kid.
Only takes two minutes for the little princess to tire herself out by laughing and soon her little eyes close as she settles down once again. Keigo makes sure to tuck her better inside the little pink blanket, rocking her in his arms with gentle rhythmic movements.
Finally, he remembers the long forgotten gift from the bed, offering it to you with a grin.
“A little something for my gorgeous wife.”
From the small rattling sound inside the box, it’s easy to predict that a new necklace or bracelet is gonna be added to your jewelry collection.
Your brows press together, fingers feeling the smooth texture of the box.
“I don’t have a gift for you, sorry.” you mutter, suddenly conscious of your mishap.
Keigo coos at you this time.
“Aw, don’t say that. I’m holding in my arms the best gift you could’ve given me. Our little baby bird.” he says, shifting the baby into only one of his arms while his free hand comes to rest atop of your belly, still not fully recovered from birth and yet ready for the next batch.
