How To Mend A Broken Heart

PAIRING: FOREST GOD VIDAR! BAKUGOU X ELF! READER

WARNINGS: some graphic descriptions | mentions of death | cunnilingus | pubes | hint of body worship | nipple play | marking | biting | blood | blood drinking | spit | breeding kink | hint of dumbification | some hair pulling | overstimulation

WORD COUNT: 7.4K

A/N: proud to finally be able to share with you guys my submission for Touch of Divine Rush Collab by @dark-mnjiro, i love Norse Mythology and had lots of fun writing this one so i hope you enjoy my little knowledge dump plus my interpretation of what Vidar’s journey would look like after Ragnarök

i also made a GLOSSARY to help you understand some of the terms and old Nordic language used without the need of researching it yourselves, please enjoy and tysm for reading!

The air felt thick as ash rained down upon the battle grounds, the remnants of the wrath from the towering flames of the fire giant evident all around as the silent god took in his surroundings. His foot still perched atop Fenrir’s fiery jaw as he looked down at the mangled wolf, a sharp pain making itself known on his palm when adrenaline started to subside from his body. Noticing one of Fenrir’s fangs pierced into his right hand where he held the beast’s jaw open seizing it before bracing his lower foot, adorned with his magical leather shoe, against its lower jaw and tearing it apart as the prophecy intended. Successfully avenging his father, Odin, after his journey ended being devoured by the foul monster.

Bakugou could barely see a few feet around him, the sky burned black as the flames reached all the way up to the stars, consuming them as not even the cosmos could evade their fate of being swallowed by the sea. Ragnarök, the final battle, had finally progressed to its final phase. And as the world burns in flames, Bakugou couldn't help but to inhale the stinging smoke around him, feeling it stain his lungs as he closed his eyes towards the black sky.

Clearing his head from the chaos that surrounds him, beginning to feel the icy touch of Helheim against his scorching skin as he calls upon the forces of nature whom he trusted the most to guide him through this new journey.

Silence. 

A small smile adorned the god’s features as he accepted his fate, although destined to survive the destruction, he found it hard to believe in prophecies when the rumbling of the ocean’s hunger was making the ground beneath his feet tremble as it started to sink into the depths of the unknown. But the silence in his ears reassured him that he will once again rule over a regenerated earth.

Silence had been Bakugou’s strongest companion, known as the silent god for he desired nothing more than to be left alone to rule the forests who were bound by close ties to him where nothing but solitude and deep silence reigned. And his desires would soon be answered as droplets of water began to slowly quench his stained skin, the god’s deep vermilion irises fluttering open as the skies poured down on him. The flames around him began to die down as the sea rumbled again and Bakugou mentally kicked himself for doubting the Norn’s prophecy as their words echoed in his head. 

“Early begun.” 

“Further spun.” 

“One day done.” 

“With joy once more won.”

Ragnarök wasn't the complete end of the world. Out of the sea, the earth started to rise again, new and filled with all shades of green where fields of grains soon began to grow without the hand of any god, human or elf to aid it. A new sun shined down upon the fresh world, and soon a new moon would follow suit as they both traveled the same path as their ancestors and returned to their old lawful regularity to keep earth from seeing the darkness of Ragnarök ever again. 

The surviving gods met at Ithavoll, once again a safe place for the gods to regather themselves as they built a new city and joined forces to bring earth back to its original splendor. But after a while, once the tasks at hand were complete and life on earth was once again restored, Bakugou left Ithavoll to take his throne in Landvidi, the wide lands. 

Where his glorious palace eagerly waits for his return, decorated with large green boughs and only the most delicate of flowers in the midst of an impenetrable primeval forest where he could peacefully reign among the silence of the trees. Where anyone who dared disturb his silence, will receive no mercy and awaken the same mighty god that tore Fenrir’s devilish jaws with his bare hands. Soon, everyone across the realm knew better than to enter the forests uninvited, for all who entered were never to be seen again.

All except one. 

Ever since you were a child, your mother would warn you to never go near the woods just off the threshold of Alfheim, the land of the elves. Hearing stories and tales of how those who had crossed were turned into corpses and left to rot by the border as a warning or were never to be heard from again.

Tales of giant man-eating beasts that would starve themselves and wait patiently for whatever ignorant soul dared set foot into their territory. Some would even say that the surviving dragons resided deep within the monstrous shadows of the tall trees, that reached so far up into the sky that no daylight could seep through. Blood-thirsty bees and spiders that would drain their victims of their blood to the very last drop, leaving them nothing but a mess of bones and dried flesh for the forest soil to consume. 

And those who managed to avoid such terrible fate and considered themselves lucky enough to reach deep within the forest to find the triumphant god’s palace in search of hidden treasures that only the remaining son of Odin could possess, would only be left wishing they would have died at the claws of the forests beasts, for they imagine their death would've been quicker compared to the merciless torture the retired god would greet them with before watering his rare carnivorous plants with their blood and feeding them their remains to keep them hungry for more. 

But you would argue the opposite.

The forest has always been kind to you, ever since you first stepped foot inside of it, back when you were just a small elf beginning to learn the elven ways of magic and strayed a little too far off the border in search of kalonji, a white-petaled flower that only grew near the thresholds of the forest and was a necessary component for brewing medicine due to the healing properties of its seeds. 

But by the time you finished collecting the rare flowers, you had already entered the forest and had no idea on how to return home. The warnings of your mother started to echo inside your head as panic began to settle in the more you looked around and the vast forest seemed to appear the same no matter which direction you faced. Sinking to your knees as tears started to cascade down your cheeks, dropping the basket of flowers beside you as you buried your face in your hands waiting for whatever horrid fate that would end your sorrows. 

Your choked sobs and sniffles were certain to attract one of the many beasts your mother had told you about, but when you started to hear the ruffling of leaves in steady steps getting closer, you never imagined coming face to face with one of the most beautiful creatures you had ever laid eyes on.

A white stag with the most piercing red eyes stared down at you warily. Large, majestic antlers adorned the sides of his head, resembling the leafless branches of the winter trees, as he cautiously smelled around you, taking in your scent while your cries died down in your throat as you stared up in awe at the towering giant. His large hooves were the size of your head, and his long legs were taller than you as you took in their size while he circled around you before settling on your opposite side.

Taking one last whiff of you before turning his snout towards your basket, inhaling the rich aroma of the kalonji before gently stealing one. Raising his head to stand tall in all his glory as he looks around whilst he eats it. You reached over and grabbed a flower as well, bringing it up to your nose to take in its bitter notes within its subtle floral fragrance before presenting it to the stag. To which he happily accepted as he lowered his neck towards you once again, taking your offering before beginning to walk past you and into the trees, stopping momentarily to look back at you only to find you already at his side as you two made your way through the extensive forest. 

You were unsure of where the stag was leading you, but you figured that sticking by his side would be better than waiting alone for the icy souls of Hel to take you. Taking in the vibrant colors of the forest as you found it hard to believe that so much beauty could hold such terrors, but you weren't going to remain present long enough to see it for yourself.

Along the way you encountered small white wood aster and yellow trout lilies that also possessed many medicinal benefits, taking some and putting them inside your basket for later while your started to carefully weave their small branches together, although your inexperienced hands were still clumsy, you still managed to keep all the flowers secure until finally closing it into a circlet. You've been so distracted with the flower crown in your hand that you hadn't noticed the stag had led you back to the threshold of the forest, being aware of your location once he stopped a few feet away from the treeline where you could see the busy city of Alfheim just past the bushes. 

Excited that you were going to be able to return home safely, you thank the stag as he looks down at you, giving you what felt like a nod before turning his body to leave. But stopping in his tracks when you ask him to wait as he gives you a confused look, watching as you walk up to him and offer him the crown you'd been building the whole path back. Those piercing vermilion eyes softening as he stares back down into your eager ones before lowering himself to your height, presenting you the top of his head while being careful not to hurt you with his antlers as you gently place the flower crown between them.

The different shades of yellow and green contrasting from his unique white fur beautifully as you feel his cold nose poke the side of your cheek before leaving a long wet lick on it, making you giggle before waving him off as you make your way down the hill and back to the city whilst he disappears back into the deep forest.

And ever since, each time you've gone to collect more kalonji, you'd find small and rather odd gifts near the flowers. Sometimes it would be random objects like polished stones and crystals, pretty feathers of all colors and sizes, and even sharp teeth that you could only imagine belonged to a creature far larger than those of these lands.

But mostly, you'd find only the rarest of flowers placed neatly upon the grass, looking so out of scenery as they wait for your arrival against the green fields. Flowers that you couldn't even begin to name since you'd never seen any others quite like them. Some would possess the most vibrant colors your eyes had ever seen, and others would have the most fragrant aromas to carry them despite their subdued appearance. Whatever the case, you'd always look forward to the little presents that awaited you on each journey to the border, and back then you were always so curious as to who could be leaving them for you to find at such opportune times. 

But now, nearly a vicennial of winters later, you still look forward to the same little surprises, only now you are well aware of who is responsible for leaving such treasures.

Making your way past the same threshold, you walk through the dense trees you've grown so accustomed to. Ever since that eventful day, the forest has always been kind and welcoming to you. Presenting you with an abundance of the same exotic flowers you would find when you were little, showing you paths filled with the same rare and delicate crystals you'd receive on occasions, and even the few animals you've had the fortune of meeting on your different journeys have grown a liking to you. 

But your reason to return to this forest always remained the same. 

Landvidi possessed only the most beautiful of landscapes, filled with the highest trees and tallest branches in the realm, lush vegetation and fresh flowers. Past the high grasslands, in the heart of the forest known as The Hall of Landvidi, is where the silent god’s palace is located. Surrounded by an even greater portion of earth’s natural beauty that paints a picture of solitude, for no being other than the retired warrior god could reach.

And as the protector of these lands, filled with ambition and strength, he is determined to ensure it remains that way. He has seen what destruction is like, lived it himself during the great battle of the destruction of the cosmos and all that lived within them, and will stop at nothing to keep the peace. 

Bakugou is the strongest of the gods, following Thor, and after fulfilling his fate as an avenger and brave warrior, his rebirth after Ragnarök symbolizes sustainability and regrowth. Being the only god known to be tied with nature, as most gods were connected to the sea through Heimdall, the watchman of the gods, Bakugou had always felt his soul to be more at peace within the wide lands. And even though he swore to never allow any trespassers into his territory, ever since he heard your cries all those winters ago, something within him told him you'd be the exception.

As you descend down the stoned path towards the small tunnel under the large oak trees, you take in a deep breath when the soft breeze hits your skin, the tunnel is formed by the widened crowns of the trees that spread and reached the branches of the oak trees on the opposite side, creating a beautiful passage towards the hidden waterfall ahead. 

From the oak branches, bellflowers of all colors hanged down decorating the path with a mesmerizing view. You reached up and collected some of the violet-blue flowers, making sure to grab several of their leaves as well. Although their petals had a mild taste, the leaves can be quite refreshing, and you knew the one you seeked would enjoy them. 

Securing them inside your basket next to the fresh apples you'd collected from your orchard, you resumed your way down the oak passage as the sound of the waterfall filled your ears. The Querencia Waterfall is the most beautiful of all the waterfalls in Landvidi, located just at the entrance of The Hall a few miles from the palace. It's the only waterfall in the land that’s so high, when the sun is at its peak some of its rays seep through the tall crowns of the oak trees, forming rainbows that look like they're cascading down along with the stream when they capture the water.

Surrounded by ancient willow trees, the lake where it pools contains powerful waters filled with passion and love from the root of the weeping willows that are believed to provide a nourishing embrace of fertility and healing. These were the only willow trees in all of Landvidi, after Ragnarök they became quite rare to find throughout the realms, so you were astonished when the white stag brought you here on one of your visits. Welcoming you into the water to bathe while he feasted on some of the exotic flowers that floated around different areas of the lake. 

You smiled to yourself as you think back on that day, remembering how nurturing the water felt around your body for the first time as its magic began to absorb into your skin. Your heart swelling when you recall feeling something being placed atop your head, only to find the stag adorning your hair with the water hyacinths he collected, rounding them on your head by tangling them with strands of your hair to the best of his abilities until it formed a circlet as his own way of thanking you for the crown you gave him on your first encounter.

You've been coming to Querencia ever since to meet with the stag, bringing him only the freshest fruits from your orchard and collecting flowers from the forest on your journeys to make more crowns for him as a thank you for all the treasures he leaves on the threshold for you. Sometimes he'd wait for your arrival near the berry bushes just off the edge of the forest and escort you through the wide lands filled with birch trees where many wildflowers favor growing near their roots so you can collect them. Other times, you venture into the forest at first daylight and wait for him in the water.

Today was one of those days as you reach the willow trees closest to the waterfall, settling your basket down near its roots as you begin to strip your garbs, folding them by the basket before entering the water. 

Submerging yourself deeper as the warm water sinks into your skin, the soft current wraps you in a state of tranquility whilst you absorb its properties before soon enough you spot the majestic antlers of the white stag. Smiling when you meet his gaze, noticing how his doe eyes seem to light up when he meets yours before entering the water with you, gracefully making his way towards you as water splashes around him from the force of his hooves. Giggling when he presses his wet nose against yours before lowering his soft furred forehead to your damped one. Something that had become a habit when greeting each other.

“God morgon, you came rather quickly today!”, you whisper against him as you greet him in the old language.

Although the old tongue was not commonly used anymore after the great destruction, you noticed you get a reaction from the stag when using some of the old words, almost as if he understood them better than the modern tongue. 

“I brought you something!”, you eagerly tell him, causing his ears to perk up at your announcement as you lift yourself from the water and start walking back towards the willow roots where you left your basket, the stag sauntering alongside you. 

Watching as you open your basket to reveal the shiniest of apples, his tongue dragging against his snout at the sight as he leans forward to eat one when you offer it to him, knowing your orchard produced some of the juiciest and most delicious ones in the realm after you watered them with the water you'd collected from the Querencia river. Offering him the bellflower leaves next as he accepted them and eating one yourself before diving back into the water. 

Fully submerging yourself as the stag followed suit, his smooth white fur now a light gray as it clung to him, droplets of water dripping from his antlers and falling against your skin when he circled closer for you to hold on to him as you swam together.

This was your usual routine on the days you'd meet on the waterfall, bathing together and feeding each other different fruit and flowers you'd bring to one another until the sun would start to disappear behind the mountains, indicating it was time to return home before nightfall. Currently seated on his back while he paraded you around the lake while eating some of the fruits on the bushes near the waterfall, sighing as you wished the stag could communicate with you further, even though you already communicated in your own unique way, exchanging gazes and gifts, and sharing intimate moments such as these that many would thought impossible to be as close to a rare white stag as you are with this one, you still wished he could speak sometimes and be able to tell you stories from the forest he knew so well.

“I wished you could speak to me”, you express as you rest your head against his neck, feeling the patches of hair beginning to fluff up from the breeze hitting his back where you laid. Ceasing his chewing at the sound of your voice as his ears flick at your words, turning his head to the side to look at you before softly snorting while rattling his antlers to signal you to alight and join him in the water again, to which you comply as you sink back in and circle him until you're facing him again. 

Smiling when he presses his cold wet nose against your stomach, snuffling up the center of your chest while leaving gentle licks on your skin before reaching your neck to nuzzle his jaw there as your hands pet along his broad shoulders and trailing them up his slender neck. He gives your side another lick before stepping back a few steps further from you as you stare back at him confused. Unsure of his behavior since he has never done this before when bathing together. 

But just as you begin to approach him again, you stop when the water around him changes its movements, once a steady stream now rapidly swirling with such force you could feel it pull you in closer. Trying your best to steady yourself in the water to swim away but as quickly as it came it dissipated, the water returned to its peaceful flow as if nothing had changed. Except now the white stag was no longer there, and in his place stood a man you'd never seen before.

A tall blonde with a strong physique of that of a warrior, adorned with battle scars and tattoos of old nordic runes on his chest traveling all the way down his abdomen and disappearing below his waist submerged in the water that you couldn't quite make out from your position. Rows of different stone necklaces, identical to the ones you gifted the stag a few winters back embellished his neck and a circlet of flowers sat atop his ash locks, the same crown of flowers you had placed on the stag not so long ago when you were riding him. 

You stood there frozen in place, still confused as to what had happened to the stag that was just standing before your eyes mere moments ago. Snapping out of your daze when the man started to come closer to you, water rippling around him with each step, similar to when the stag enters the water and it splashes from the might of his hooves. The man stopped in front of you as you peered up at him, the sun seeping through the trees hitting his chiseled face to reveal his piercing vermilion eyes.

The same pools of red that you'd recognize anywhere, the eyes staring back at you were the ones of the stag, eyes you'd look forward to seeing everyday when you woke up, a deep crimson you'd come to find in all things that reminded you of the stag, in the ripe apples of your orchard that he loved so much, in the rare red lilies that only bloomed during the early times of spring in the valley near the waterfall, in the polished pyropes stones he’d bring you every late winter and now in the body of a man whose presence felt familiar the more you took in the energy around him. 

He smiled when he noticed everything beginning to make sense to you when your widened eyes began to soften. 

“Elskan mín”, his voice low but eager as he wraps his arms around your waist and hoists you up to spin you around in the air, causing you to secure your arms around his neck while laughing before holding you close to him. Wet skin pressed against each other while strong arms keep you close as your legs instinctively wrap around his center.

Lowering your face towards him to nudge your nose against his before pressing your foreheads together, just like you would with the stag only now his nose is warm and the dampness of his forehead matches yours. 

“How come you hadn’t done this earlier?”, your eyes searching his as you notice him peering at your lips while you speak before meeting your curious gaze again. 

“Didn’t want to scare you away”, he answers simply whilst pressing kisses along your jaw sporadically. 

“Why now then?”, you push while allowing your digits to travel up and down his nape, tangling with his hair. 

“It just felt right”, he whispers while fondling one of your braids with the charms of your mother, she had removed them from her locks and secured them in yours before passing so you could have a piece of her with you when she could no longer be present in body but carry on in soul and spirit.

His hand traveled down to your shoulder where old nordic runes adorned your skin as well, only yours possessed sacred sigils of the old elven folklore, while his runes were of a time before Ragnarök. Which made you wonder if this was the retired god of vengeance everyone was so wary of, he evidently possessed the powers of one and if anyone was to allow the welcoming treatment the forest has presented you with all these years, it was him. 

You reach for the hand still tracing the runes on your skin to cradle it in yours as you turn it so his palm could be facing you, whilst he watched as you inspected his hand. Smiling again when you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, almost able to see the ripples of electricity in your head as you put all the details together, a habit of yours that he loved to observe throughout the years since meeting each other.

To Bakugou, out of all the creatures that had stepped foot inside his forest seeking his aid, you were the most beautiful he had ever seen, no flower from his garden could compare to you, and since the day he met you he swore that one day you would become his goddess, and he has remained by your side since, waiting for this exact moment that he'd be able to finally show himself to you and solidify your love. 

He watched as you traced the scar on his palm, a reminder of the path he once walked guided by the burdens of fate. Your eyes meet his again when you finally put all the clues together, noticing how he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, and to him you were, for you had become his purpose after no longer having interest in matters of war and retiring to spend eternity within the silence of the wide lands. 

“You're him… the silent one”, only receiving a nod in return as more answers arise in your head, but settling on the one that dominated your thoughts the most.

“Why me?” 

“It's always been you, elskan mín… and now we are able to seal our love for one another.” 

All your questions are melted away when he pulls you towards him and captures your lips in a kiss so fervent that causes your insides to stir with emotion. Only pulling away when the need for air becomes inescapable as you pant against each other's lips. 

“I’ve waited so long to do that”, he exhales while making his way towards the shore with you still secured in his arms. 

The fresh spring breeze hitting your skin when you leave the comfort of the water makes you shiver, a small hint of winter still present in the air as the forest was still transitioning from the stabbing cold into the warm energetic glow that this season brought along with it.

Your nipples pebbling at the loss of heat from the god’s body when he sets you down on the soft clearing of moss and wildflowers under the tallest willow tree. Something that doesn't go unnoticed by him as he peers down at you, now able to openly devour you with his eyes whilst you lay under him, strong tatted arms caging you between them as he lowers himself to capture your lips once again.

All the tales of the remaining son of the once All-Father were of his brash and merciless demeanour, ones that were bound to inflict fear upon anyone that heard them, but all those stories drifted into distant whispers of the wind the more you got lost in him. His touch was firm yet delicate, something that would seem impossible for his physique with such imposing structure, but it was possible. His touch was filled with love and spoke the words his voice failed to express. And only now that his lips trailed open-mouthed kisses along your skin, is that it becomes evident to you the extent of said love as you look back on all the years you've spent together. 

Courting the other in the shape of flowers, stones and apples, in a dance of mighty passion that led to this exact moment as he settled himself between your legs, positioning your thighs above his broad shoulders whilst his fingers traced informal shapes on them. His eyes fixated on the tuft of hair above your cunt as he sinks down to bury his nose in it, inhaling your scent as you watch his eyes darken from finally being able to delve in the thing he craved the most after so long.

Maroon eyes meeting yours while his lips follow the trail of hair down towards your sensitive lips, the feel of his hot breath alone making you clench around nothing as you watch him hover above your cunt, puckering his lips so a long strip of spit falls from them and lands on your clit. Watching as it slides through your folds before pressing his tongue flat on your entrance and licking all the way up to your clit, repeating the action as he falls into rhythm. Feeling yourself get increasingly wetter with each swipe of his tongue while your chest starts to rise and fall unevenly. 

Getting lost in the pleasure as your hips begin to buck when his tongue focuses on your clit, circling it before rapidly flicking against it causing something to ripple inside of you. He wraps his lips around the sensitive bud while his eyes look up in awe at the way you arch into him, your cries unleashing the might in him that had been forgotten for centuries as he sucks on your clit with more vehemence, needing to hear you sing for him louder. 

Increasing his movements as he begins to suck on your folds, the feeling of his lips messily fondling with yours sends chills across your skin as you slowly rock your hips along with him. Your hands reach for his where they rest on your hip bones as he easily opens them for you to tangle your fingers with his whilst he continues to increasingly devour your cunt. The wet smacking sounds of his lips clashing with the ones of the waterfall as you feel yourself get closer and closer to your release.

The sweet taste of your fluids on his tongue drove Bakugou into a frenzy, lapping and eating your cunt while whined grunts resonated from deep in his chest, the vibrations pushing you over the edge. Arching deeper into his touch as wanton moans escape your lips, white spots clouding your vision when he buries his face further into your cunt, nose rubbing on your clit while he drinks every last drop of your release, not stopping until he gets his fill. 

Parting from your cunt once your whines die down into heavy breaths, face stained with your fluids that he pays no mind to as he dives back in to place a tender kiss against your clit before trailing up to the tuft of hair, savoring your scent as he buries his nose in them again and runs his lips against them. Pulling your hairs between them, the slight tug making you peer down at him as you meet his eyes, filled with love and adoration mixed with something else, something more sinister and hungrier that hasn't been sated completely.

Watching as he presses a kiss to your hairs as well before continuing to trail them up your abdomen, never breaking eye contact as he reaches the valley of your breast. His hands untangle from yours as they glide against your sides to cup your boobs, shaking them in his grasp before capturing one of your pert nipples in his mouth. Swirling his tongue around it while he sucks them harder and slowly pulls back until it flicks out of his mouth with a wet slurp, to then switch and give the other nipple the same treatment. Alternating between both breasts as your whines encouraged him on, not stopping his ministrations until your chest was swollen and overstimulated, almost making you reach your climax once again but pulling away to edge you on as he continued to lay kisses against your chest before moving towards your neck. 

Shifting from tender to ravenous when he starts to mark your skin with his teeth, nipping across your throat until settling where your neck meets your shoulder. Feeling his tongue drag against your skin followed by a sloppy kiss before his teeth scrape your delicate skin, your cunt clenching in anticipation as you wait for him to finally give in to his desires. 

Bakugou could hear his heart beat loudly inside his ears as he began to sink his teeth in you, pressing down until the skin gave away against his force, the rush of blood drowning his taste buds making the loud beating cease into silence as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

The mighty god had left the path of war behind a long time ago, but one's nature can’t be so easily avoided as the craving for disaster and vengeance haunted him at times from a period where the blood of his enemies would quench his skin, finding its way to his lips, reminding him what victory tastes like.

So as the savory metallic taste pours down his throat, he can't contain the groan that escapes him as a chill runs down his spine making him grind against you whilst your sweet cries pull him from his silence. Withdrawing from your skin to lap up the remaining rush of blood before cradling your face in his hand, holding your jaw firmly as he presses his lips to yours. Kissing you with such might you feel he could almost devour you through the kiss as the taste of your own blood mixing with each other's spit sends you both in a trance as you continue savoring it.

Bucking your hips to grind against his cock as his hips follow suit, beads of precum mixing with your arousal as he rubs his length between your folds whilst his tongue tangles with yours. Too engrossed in the kiss to pull away, you sneak your hand between your bodies and guide his cock to align with you as he slowly begins to sink into your cunt. The stretch of his cock sends a hot wave of pleasure down your back as your cunt sucks him in further, inch by inch as your fingers curl around ash blonde strands. 

Your breaths become labored as you part from each other, lips swollen and red as he fully sinks into your warmth. The grip from your silken walls forces him to brace himself as he places his arms next to your head to keep himself from collapsing when he feels his thighs twitch. Pressing his forehead to yours when his hips start to rock into you, slow and steady at first before gradually increasing his thrusts into a brutal pace that drives both of you into a babbling mess. 

Your wetness gushing messily, soaking the untamed strands of ash hair on his pelvis as they bounce against your own, before dribbling onto your skin causing it to spread in sticky strands every time his hips part from yours to snap against them again. Strangled moans mixing with the sloppy sounds of your bodies as the sensations become overwhelmingly good.

Tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you look up at him, trying your best to answer him when he asks you to tell him how good it feels between the curses in old tongue and heavy grunts that escape him. Responding to what feels like incoherent babbles as your mind melts away the more he pounds into your sloppy pussy. 

Bakugou could feel his balls twitch as he neared his release, but he needed you to come undone with him and make an even greater mess on his cock for him. Shifting his weight on one arm while the other gives your breast a quick tug before reaching between your bodies as he starts drawing quick circles against your clit with his thumb. Sending an electric shock of pleasure through your body as your breath gets stuck in your throat before you start coming apart. 

Squeezing around him hard as a flow of arousal gushes between your bodies as it stains both of you and leaks down into the soil beneath you. Your walls clenching around him mixed with the obscene sounds coming from your pussy sending him over the edge as well as he buries his cock to the hilt, filling you up as the hand on the side of your head tangles with your hair when yours tug harder at the one on his nape.

The tears finally spilling from your eyes as hot - impossibly hot - globs of creamy cum spill against your sultry cunt, searing your insides as you find yourself never wanting this moment to end, wishing to always be plugged full of the vengeful gods mighty cum. Feeling the final pulses of his cock inside you as his head falls down against your shoulder, smiling to yourself between heavy breaths at the wet feel of his ecstasy filled tears smearing against your skin but choosing not to say anything as he fully allows his weight on top of your whilst your arms wrap around him. 

Giggling at the soft lips pressing feather-light kisses on the side of your neck as they slowly trail up towards your lips, capturing them in a gentle kiss while his fingers caress your scalp where he previously had a grip on your hair.  

A cold breeze pulls you both from your trance as the rustling of the willow tree above you fills your ears, once again reminding of the remnants from the harsh winter as goosebumps erupt from your skin. You notice how the waterfall no longer has a rainbow flowing through it, indicating that the sun has already begun to set, and you need to return home quickly.

You've never stayed in the forest long enough to see nightfall, and the stag would always make sure to escort you back to the treeline safely before sunset, but today time had slipped from your hands and you began to worry. Bakugou is quick to notice your concern as he wraps his arms around your center to hold you close, burying his head in the crook of your neck again and taking a deep breath as he inhales your warm scent. 

“I have to leave”, you remind him but still reciprocate his actions by wrapping your arms around him again as you also hated the idea of having to depart from this moment. 

“Stay”, he whispers against your skin followed by a swipe of his tongue against the dried blood around the punctures on your neck. 

“There is nowhere for us to st-”, you began to dissent, but the forest god silenced you by quickly pulling you into a kiss once more. Grin on his features that you couldn't help but smile in return despite your disapproving eyes.

“I want to show you something”, he guides your legs to wrap around his waist before rising from the ground with you secured in his arms as he carries you through a path of the forest you hadn't explored before. The sun was already halfway past the mountains, making it hard to see, but just as you were about to express your concerns to him, a light in the corner of your eye caught your attention. A small blinking light followed by another until an entire cloud of dancing lights was illuminating your path.

After Ragnarök, it was rare to catch a glimpse of certain insects, fireflies being one of them, so seeing so many in one place had your jaw slack as you watched how they gracefully danced under the upcoming moonlight whilst they guided you through the forest. 

Bakugou kept walking through the field of thinning willow trees that started to morph into magnificent maple trees that even with only the dim light of the fireflies, you could vividly see their vibrant colors. These acer trees had also become a rarity after the great destruction, and the analgesic in their bark was of high command to aid as a remedy for some illnesses, which made you wonder why he hadn't shown you this part of the forest before. The stag had always granted you access to all the rare medicinal flora found in these lands so you found it odd that he kept this area hidden from you. 

Your confusion only grew more as you made your way deeper into the darker trails of the maples, where the path seemed to end by a sealed corridor blocked off with an impenetrable wall of large roots and maple leaves.

“Blómi”, you hear Bakugou whisper as the sound of creaking wood follows, watching as the roots begin to untangle from each other and the leaves falls to the ground revealing a path of lit stones descending into a large garden with a great abundance of flowers, leading towards a large structure. 

Your jaw fell slack again, as you wouldn't have imagined  that this is where the silent god kept his palace, nor that such a vibrant area filled with such sublime greatness of nature could be hidden amid the sacred gloom of the maples. Bakugou couldn't help but smile as he carried you through his garden whilst you stared in complete enchantment, filled with joy that he could finally share his greatest treasures with you. 

The inside of the palace was equally as marvelous as the outside and had a beautiful golden fountain at the very center with small creeks that led to other corridors of the palace, ones you couldn't wait to explore once daylight came again. As for now, the mighty god was still carrying you towards what you could only imagine were his chambers as he ascended the grand staircase near the main entryway. Revealing an archway adorned with flowy white curtains that led inside his bedchamber where he set you down on the spacious bed at the center of the room. The bedding was soft and cozy as you sink deeper into the comfort of them, noticing how the moon sat perfectly above the palace where you had a clear view through the sunroof above the bed.

“Hí, elska”, you heard Bakugou whisper next to you, offering you a coconut shell filled with water. 

“Takk!”, you smile while grabbing the shell and drinking from it, finishing its contents before settling back down on the bed as a yawn escapes you, sleep finally catching up to you after such a fulfilling day. Settling against his chest whilst Bakugou worked his fingers through some of the tangles bathing earlier might have caused.

“God natt, ásynja mín”, he boasts, a grin spreading at your widened eyes looking up at him. 

“Ásynja?”, you ask, unsure if you heard him correctly to which he only nods in return as you match his smile. 

“Yes, ásynja mín, for everything I own is now yours as well”, he adds while nodding towards the room, confirming that he meant the palace and everything within his forest was now yours to rule alongside him for eternity. 

And you couldn't be happier as you drift off to sleep against the god’s chest, neither could him as he placed a gentle kiss against your forehead before peering up at the moon. Asking his father if he was watching as he finally found the one with whom his soul delights in after many years of hard battles, he has completed the prophecy he set for himself all those winters ago when he met you, now with a content smile as he buried his nose in your head, excited for what the future awaits as the rulers of Landvidi.

we all are small particles holding very tightly together in a very large universe // k.bakugou

Rating: MA

Pairing(s): Tamaki Amajiki x fem!reader, Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, heavy angst, emotional cheating, major character death, smut, body horror/graphic injuries, trauma, ptsd, sinkhole accident, medical trauma, hospital scenes 

expected wc: 20k+

Summary: Soulmates are given to every child when they turn five through their dreams. You were never assigned one. Growing up and coming to terms with never having a soulmate, you find another Tamaki with a similar fate and become happily engaged. What happens when you start to dream of an old classmate though, his ruby eyes and caramel scent haunting you in and out of your dreams? 

a/n: this is my part for the big bang collab (@mybigbangacademia )! woooooooo!!!! artwork to come by the lovely @/wasabi-gumdrop. uhhhhh what else..... this first part is 5k, and overall i'm gonna have over 20k words lmao, so good luck me and everyone else. also, my ao3 is linked too! have fun with that.

and as always,

minors dni

-(-)-

It’s him. 

Your eyes meet his and you remember it all.The folds of his school uniform from years ago. His blonde hair in the wind as he blasts his way through the air, racing to be the first pro-hero on site. He stands there, watching you go through the motions. Watching you unsure of yourself, palm over your heart as it aches for him. You step forward, not sure if you’re making the choice to walk towards him or if your heart is still the one in control. 

He watches with a careful expression, as if he’s known for years that he’s been the one. He watches as if he’s been waiting. Waiting for your eyes, once clouded, to look into his vermilion ones and see for yourself who he is. 

Katsuki, your voice is barely above a whisper and there’s tears starting to sprout from your eyes. 

His eyebrows furrow, as if he can’t tell if you’re relieved or questioning the weight of his name on your tongue. 

You hold out your hand, outstretched fingers aching to brush his skin. 

You okay? 

The palms of his hands are warm as they hold yours, and for the first time in forever,you tell the truth. 

-(-)-

The room is still dark despite the streaks of light filtering through the blinds. Your mind is foggy, the remnants of your dream withering away with each second. You blink back tears, unsure of what it was you were dreaming about now that you’ve started to wake up. Still half asleep, you mistake the man in your arms for blankets and pillows until he starts to stir awake. For a brief second, a scary moment, you forget who he is and why he’s in your bed. 

“Tamaki,” you whisper. You didn’t mean to say this out loud yet he groans in reply, mistaking your answer to your own question for a greeting. “G’morning.”

“Mm,” he hums. Your arms squeeze tight around his shoulders and now that your eyes have adjusted to the dark, you can finally make out his indigo bedhead against your pillows. “Mornin’.”

You smile, ignoring the strange sadness settling inside your belly. “When did you get in? You were still working when I went to bed last night.”

Tamaki doesn’t answer for a moment and you think he’s fallen asleep until he turns onto his back. People mistake him for being thin, wiry. Yet you can feel the ropes of muscle in his arms as he pulls you in close by your waist, you can feel his broad chest and his stocky build against your soft curves. His quirk revolves around food and he’s a damn good pro-hero, a prospective top 10 hero this year, of course he ain’t skinny. 

“Three,” he replies. “Stay in bed.”

“The Clash is in full swing, Tama.” You joke but you curl into his warmth nonetheless, allowing yourself the few minutes of peace before you go into work.  ‘The Clash’, meaning your conflicting schedules, happens at least three times a year. A few weeks of one of you having graveyard shifts while the other keeps to the normal day-time shifts for a pro-hero. He sleepily groans again, yet Tamaki loosens his arms around you. 

“When’s your shift done?” His words slur, and it takes you a moment to comprehend his question before you answer. 

“I’ll be going in by then,” Tamaki sighs.

You kiss his jaw, soft and clean shaven. He still shaved after his graveyard shift last night, knowing that you prefer the feeling of his skin smooth over the prickle of a five o’clock shadow, AM or otherwise. 

“Should’ve gone to my agency instead of staying with Fatgum,” you tease. Tamaki never would’ve changed agencies, and he reaffirms that with a displeased hum. A soft giggle slips out from your lips and you roll your eyes. 

Your agencies aren’t that far apart, yet it’s clear that Fatgum’s is far superior than the one you’ve started at a few weeks ago. Your manager nearly quit on you when you transferred, ignoring her pleas to move somewhere that’ll help you climb the ranks instead of plateau. You waved off the questions people threw, ignoring their confusion as to why you’d ever leave such a high ranking angeny for a… mediocre one. He doesn’t put up much of a fight when you start to peel away from him, stuffing his face into your pillows as you fumble around the room. The apartment is quiet when you slip on your running shoes, you sling your work bag over your shoulders before you give one last quiet goodbye to your fiancé. 

-(-)-

There’s a nagging feeling that you’ve forgotten something. All day you couldn’t shake it. All day your fingers drummed against every desk and flat surface, you bounced your legs on the balls of your feet until your coworkers threw heated glares in your direction. You ignore them now, you ignore their exasperated sighs as you continue to bounce your leg while you type away your paperwork. You chew the inside of your cheek, resting your chin in your hand as you scroll through the file one last time before submitting it for review. These arrests won’t help your rank, it won’t make you popular, they won’t even make it to the front page of the Esuha Daily News let alone the fourteenth page. But it’s a good day. 

You’ve made good arrests today, all without casualty. You even meal planned your fucking lunch. So why the hell are you on edge? 

Of course your arrests didn’t have casualties though, they didn’t even have injuries. You barely used your quirk today. 

Did you even use your quirk today? 

The highest activity your watch took track of was when you took a light jog back to your agency building after capturing a runaway purse snatcher. In fact, that was the first and only time you had to use your quirk. He thought running sporadically would throw you off your balance, and maybe it would’ve for a low ranking hero. In a split second you activated your quirk and he teleported right into your arms instead of turning the corner like he had planned. You’ve been working on this trick for months, teleporting objects or people in your place but catching them halfway. Meeting them in the middle. In seconds he was in handcuffs and you left it to the police to get him into custody. You jogged back to work for lunch. 

The inside of your cheek starts to bleed as anxiety gnaws inside you. Whatever it was that you had forgotten, is probably gone forever. Irritated at the realization, you sigh and decide to burn off this extra energy with a walk around the building. Tamaki is probably getting dressed by now, stuffing his hero costume into his work bag right from the dryer. He’s got a terrible habit of not folding his clothes, you both do. It’s why you invested in a wrinkle releaser spray, and you hope he’s remembered it for tonight’s shift. Civilians recognize you still, you can’t help a sense of pride and relief when their eyes brighten at the sight of you. A child stops you from your anxiety-ridden walk for a quick autograph, begging you to show them your teleportation quirk before their parent bashfully drags them away. 

Your hands twitch, begging to be useful and aching to be used again. You turn the opposite away and head back to the agency. 

-(-)-

I cooked u dinner!, you text Tamaki, don’t forget it. it’ll help ur shift tonight :P

Your head bowed low as you stroll down the block, your shift just ending according to the time in your phone. It’s why you don’t see him, it’s why you feel the split second heat of his body prickles against you before you activate your quirk to avoid further disaster. He stumbles in your previous spot, his cheeks pale from nausea as he leans forward (usual symptoms of being teleported without warning). 

“Watch where you’re fucking going,” he spits out before straightening up. An eerie sense of dejavú washes over you as you stare back at Dynamight. His eyes haven’t been painted with eyeliner yet, and he’s carrying a gym bag over his shoulders that’s most likely holding his costume. 

“Right- sorry.” You let out a laugh, not sure why you’re feeling flustered. You have work to finish before going home, a few more files to mark as “important” even though they’re technically insignificant. You have a home to go to. But his eyes are still on you. And you can’t look away.  You’ve forgotten something today, and it’s nagging at you even more now than ever. 

His eyebrows furrow and he watches you carefully as your thoughts race.  “Shadow Step,” he greets you curtly. 

“Dynamight,” you nod and give him a polite smile. Your eyes cut to the athletic compression band on his left arm, surprised to even see a kind that begins from your shoulder and ends at your fingertips. “Are you going into a shift or coming from one?”

Bakugou looks you up and down for a moment before answering, “Coming from one.” There’s an awkward pause before he clears his throat. “You look like you’ve got a long night ahead of ya.” Yeah because you haven’t fucking done anything all day and you’re bored .  

“Shift just ended actually,” you smile and look behind him towards the agency building. 

“You okay?” Bakugou’s words snap your attention back to him, that feeling of dejavú even stronger now. 

You both stare for a moment; you, deciding on telling the truth, and him patiently waiting for you to answer or just move along. 

“Yeah,” you lie. You hurry back inside the building before he can reply. He used to call me Bambi , you distantly remember. You don’t know why your heart is still racing after seeing him again. 

-(-)-

For the next week, it keeps happening.

You wake up with either tears in your eyes or the ghosts of one’s still on your cheeks. Yet whatever you dreamt of is long gone, no matter how much you try to cling to the memories. Until one morning it lingers, the feeling of his hair between your fingers and the warmth of his body against yours. The smell of caramel. 

The realization settles slowly, until the weight of guilt is heavy against your bones. 

“Fuck,” you mutter. Out of fear, you reach behind you only to feel a cold empty bed beside you. That’s right, Tamaki is on a plane to China for a mission. He’s not going to be back for another week. You stuff your face into the soft blankets, hoping that the smell of home will dampen the heavy caramel still filtering in your mind. 

You’ve never even had a real conversation with Bakugou since… ever. With the exception of last week when you inexplicably ran into him, you always saw him in passing from your years at UA. Neither of you had spoken much, maybe paired against each other’s classes for training but other than that… 

Today is your day off, you give yourself the luxury of staying in bed for just a little bit longer. The warmth in your chest from your dream is finally lifting, leaving you to breathe once again. 

It meant nothing. Just a random dream. 

But as your day continues, you can’t get rid of the thought of him. 

Why weren’t you guys ever friends? Maybe because he was a major asshole who looked down at everyone like they were a piece of shit.

You snort, shaking the very idea out of your head until a memory springs forth.

Cherry blossoms were floating in the air and the weather just started to turn warmer. It was your third year, the excitement of graduating buzzed through all your classmates and it meant that you all had trouble concentrating on courses. You had gotten in trouble for doodling during the fire quirk safety course, and was forced to stay behind to clean the classroom all by yourself before heading back to your dorms. 

You bumped into Katsuki right after, both of you stunned that another student was still around the school so late that neither of you said a word just yet. 

“God, Bambi, you’d think that with your stupid quirk you wouldn’t bump into anyone,” he rolls his eyes. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry-! Bambi?” You instantly retract your apology, glaring as he brushes you off. 

“Yeah, Bambi. Baby deer who can barely fucking walk?” His stupid smirk makes you see red, especially when he starts to step away from you. I nstead of his heavy boot meeting the ground, his face does instead when you activate your quirk. The checkered tiles don’t match now since you’ve switched their spots, but you’re cackling too loudly to care. Just as you try to leave, Katsuki’s hand grabs your ankle and trips you. It’s too quick for you to even think to use your quirk, and the smack of the tile stings. 

“What the- fuck you!” You turn and snarl, his annoying little sneering frustrates you more. 

“Relax, tit for tat.” Bakugou towers over you, the same hand that tripped you is now offered to help you stand. Reluctantly you take it. 

You both help pick up the other’s things, his papers that flew with perfect grades and messy drawings on the tests that you finished early on. It’s quiet between you both. To be honest you were feeling awkward, wondering if maybe you are just a lowly piece of shit as you stare at Bakugou’s perfect marks. You glance at him, not wanting him to catch you marveling at how absolutely genius he is, and find him with one of your essays in his hands. His thumb traces over a messy sketch of a face, the angles harsh and the eyes sharp, but the rest was a blur. 

“Soulmate?” He grumbles, his red eyes looking up at yours and you feel your insides freeze at being caught. 

“Uh, no. I don’t think so. I don’t think I have one,” you mumble and take the essay from him. Morbid curiosity takes over and you ask him the same. 

“Yes,” his answer surprises you. Something in your belly flips, not wanting to know why exactly that upsets you. 

You didn’t expect him to have one, not with his attitude and ego. It shouldn't be surprising that he has one, it’s rare for someone to be like you: one without a soulmate. Fated to be alone. By the age of five, right around the time a child has gotten their quirk, they start to dream of their soulmate. You’ve heard of soulmates meeting in sleep, talking and laughing and holding each other in dreams. Waking up knowing they’re out there, remembering every detail of them.  You didn’t get these dreams. Maybe you saw people, indistinct faces. But everyone did. 

“But how do you know they're your soulmate and not just a random person your brain made up? How do you know it’s not just chemicals?”

Your friends shrugged, a dopey smile on their faces as they imagined their future partners, “You just do.”

That wasn’t helpful. 

“Oh,” you replied. “Congrats.” You wanted to reach out and fix his tie and a part of you yearned to run your hands through his hair and see if it truly feels as soft as it looks. Instead you stuffed your papers into your bookbag and stood, muttering an apology for tripping him. 

Bakugou looks at you and nods, “It’s fine. I was being a dick.” The sun setting outside streamed through the glass wall and washed over his cheeks, his eyes are rubies in the sunlight. “See ya around, Bambi.”

You nodded, turning away before he could first. 

Almost immediately, the feeling of warmth in your chest turns to guilt. A chill runs down your spine, prickling your skin with discomfort. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. 

You’re engaged. He has a soulmate. 

None of it matters. You’re happy. 

You’re happy. You’re happy. You’re happy. You’re happy. 

You mutter this to yourself all day. You tap the words onto your lips with your pen as you fill out endless paperwork. Today you avoid going out on patrol, not wanting to bump into him again. Nearly every time you’ve gone on patrol, you see Katsuki,- Bakugou,- Dynamite . The screams of children as they swarm towards him would catch your attention, and of course the moment you glance towards the commotion you meet his gaze. Time stands still for just a millisecond, and the vague feeling you woke up with that moment would come back like dejavu. Or you’re getting lunch, rushing towards the food stand with the older auntie who loves to squeeze your cheeks and demand you eat more, when the smell of sugar lingers for a moment before disappearing. You hate how your heart races at the smell of sugar burning, you hate that you think of his soft blond hair and his eyes, only to see the treats being sold to the families passing through. All of your shifts are so sleepy, so goddamn boring, that you never noticed the stands selling sweets like American brittle or caramel dipped apples until now.

Caramel follows you everywhere now. Or maybe it’s always been there and you just haven’t noticed. So you decide to stay inside the office, at least until Tamaki gets back from his mission and you can feel like yourself again. 

I’m happy. I’m happy. I’m happy. 

You stare at the photo of Tamaki and you on your desk, doing everything you can to ignore the ghost smell of caramel determined to linger around you. 

-(-)-

You train harder at night. You do everything to avoid sleeping and if you do pass out, you hope to not dream. You can’t take it, seeing him instead of Tamaki. As you go through the motions of hitting the punching bag, ignoring the way your body screams for you to take a break, you nearly miss Tamaki’s call. 

“I haven’t heard from you,” his voice makes your chest tighten with guilt. “How was your day?”

The same. It’s always the same. You walk and catch the occasional kid who tries to steal a phone. You sit in your office and do the mind numbing paperwork that follows. Rinse. Repeat. 

It’s always the same. You hardly use your quirk, you hardly use the special moves you worked so hard on back in your high school days. 

You go home to an empty apartment and an empty bed, left wondering why the hell you aren’t doing more. You go home and eat a dinner you always make for yourself and wish for once that someone else can just do it for you. You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, still brimming with energy and pent up rage, wondering why you are here. Longing for a home that doesn’t exist. 

“It was fine,” you chug water in between breaths, the muscles in your arms quivering as you finally take a break. 

“That’s nice,” his voice is sweet. You hate how annoyed you’re starting to feel about how compliant he is. There’s a long silence and you wonder when you both got so comfortable. 

When did you get so comfortable? When did you stop trying? Why did you decide to settle for less?

That thought stops you cold. Settle for less? Did you mean your career or… Tamaki wasn’t less. He’s a good man, a brave hero, a loving partner. He took care of you. He takes care of you.

He’s never pushed you. 

You both never fought, you were both so compliant. 

But he loves you. 

“I love you,” you say. 

Tamaki keens out a shy noise, still not used to your affection even after all your years together and you smile. “I love you too.”

“I want to leave my agency,” you blurt out. “I hate it. It’s so boring.” Everything spills, the way you feel so useless each day, your dreams of being the best being swept away by his shadow, you tell Tamaki everything. Leaving out the smell of caramel that haunts you each morning. 

Tamaki is quiet for a moment before responding, “We have a position.”

“You do?” You sit on the gym mat, wondering why you ever doubted your faithful fiancé, your ecstatic laughter rings through the training center. 

“Yes,” Tamaki joins in on your laughter. “You’d have to start as a sidekick, really just think of it as the transition period before we get you to debut as a pro hero. But-,” 

You can hear your blood rushing through your ear drums, flooding out whatever else Tamaki is saying. Start over? Can you do that, start from the beginning and rise up? 

“We can even work together, it’d be- God, that’d be fantastic. I can see you more-,” Tamaki is getting excited, but all you can think of is how once again, you’ll just be overshadowed by the Suneater himself. You wonder if he can hear how hollow your voice sounds, when you tell him how great that’ll be. 

A few days after the phone call at the training center, Tamaki tells you that his mission was extended and he won’t be home until the end of the month. You can’t sleep hours later after you told him goodnight, and decide to go on a run. The sound of your feet hitting the pavement helps drown out your thoughts. Lately you’ve been so preoccupied with transferring agencies as soon as Tamaki gets home, that you’ve almost forgotten your soulmate dilemma. 

Almost. 

You run faster to avoid thinking about it, about him.  You’re totally not thinking about him, and you’re doing an excellent job not thinking about him that you run into the asshole. 

“Fuck,” you barely feel the scrape on your knee before activating your quirk to save yourself. “Sorry, I-”

“You’d think that with your quirk, you wouldn’t bump into anyone, Bambi.” This time, it’s amusement and not annoyance that he says this sentence to you for a second time in your life.  Kat- Dynamite holds out his hand, looking down at you with a faint smirk as you graciously take it. You activate it again, switching places so that you’re looking down at him instead. 

“You’d think that with your attitude you’d be at the bottom of the popularity poll.” There’s no malice in your tone, and instead you find yourselves smiling at the other. You help him up easily before cleaning off yourself. 

“You’re stronger than you look,” Bakugou compliments. Many thought that, and even had said that to you, and while most times it irks you, this time you feel pride. 

“I’ve been training.” You stand taller. 

“I’ve noticed.” It’s dark, but you swear the tips of his ears start to go red. 

“Yeah?” You smile, and if anyone would’ve called it out, they might call it flirty. “Didn’t realize you’ve been watching.”

“Shaddup,” He laughs and crosses his arms, one still clad in the compression sleeve, the ropes of muscle more prominent in his chest and biceps. “Everyone has been noticing.”

“Really,” you cross your arms and grin. “Everyone?” 

“Ever since Elf Ears fucked off on his mission, everyone has noticed you been trolling for night shifts.” He’s right of course, not that you’d freely admit to him. Your restless energy has boiled over and you’ve been picking up more shifts. Shamefully you’ve felt free. 

“Not tonight, though.” Tap your shoes against the sidewalk, ready to run. Whatever confidence you had in front of him is fading quickly, and your head is dizzy with the scent of caramel and musk wafting from him. 

“No.” Bakugou agrees, watching you carefully. “Not tonight.”

Electricity pulses through the space between you both, and you decide it’s time to end this interaction. 

“You okay?” He asks again. The familiar pangs of distress and love floods into your chest and guilt starts to sting you at your core. 

Yes. “No.” 

“My shift just ended,” Bakugou says nonchalantly, shrugging. “Want to get a drink?”

No . “Yes.” 

-(-)-

Drinks didn’t mean what you thought. You and Bakugou walked down the lamp lit streets in silence. A third person could walk between you both, you thought to yourself. You made sure to not pay any attention to his frame, you tried your best to not compare him to your fiancé. All day you haven’t heard from Tamaki, not that you expected him to contact you during a mission. But as you and Katsuki walk to get drinks, you realize it’s the first time in months that you haven’t been riddled with anxiety over your partner. 

“This isn’t a bar,” you step through the tea shop and give Katsuki a passing look. 

“Never said it was, Bambi.” Your heart flutters at the nickname, yet you don’t give any of it away as you look around the tea shop. His eyes watch you taking it in, the decor that’s been outdated for about thirty years already and the countless porcelain tea cups being reflected by the hanging lights. “Pick a cup, then pick a tea.” Katsuki grabs a ceramic yunomi painted with the colors of a sunset. You bite back a smile, remembering how much he favored the color orange back in school. Not much has changed. 

“Hōchija, please.” He sets his cup down and gives a polite nod to the younger boy behind the wooden counter. 

Your eyes scan across the once white now faded yellow menu, “May I get the sencha please?” 

It’s quiet aside from the music playing the top 100 over the speakers, and then both of you take a seat at the bar. The younger barista hums while measuring out the dried tea leaves, the two of you doing your best to ignore the warmth from your shoulders touching lightly. A few minutes pass and your yunomi is handed back filled with hot tea, it’s heat spreads across the palm of your hand and you ignore the way it stings. It’s delicious. 

“This is amazing,” you give a smile to your barista and he bows his head with a shy smile. “How did you hear about this place?”

Bakugou sets his tea back down and you catch the smell of charcoal, vaguely you wonder if it’s the remnants of his shift and you inch closer. “My pops would take me here,” Katsuki’s voice is low and you lean in to catch his words. “It’s the only damned place that we went to that didn’t involve someone screaming at each other. He told me once, ‘Katsuki-chan every cup you drink is one drink closer, I hope, to calming the fuck down.’” Your snort is sudden and loud, and while you struggle to keep your laughter down, you miss the way Katsuki smiles at you before taking another sip of his tea. 

“Did it work?” You smile at him, not wanting to think about your chest warming and deciding it’s from the tea. 

“I think so.” He answers truthfully, this time he glares when you laugh. “What?” Bakugou sets his tea cup down almost too roughly on the wooden counter, and you notice the same compression band on his left arm still. 

Shaking your head and holding your hands up to your defense, you giggle. “The amount of articles I’ve read of the ‘Great Dynamite Hero’-,” your fingers mine the air quotes, “-having his blowouts. It’s hilarious.”

“Didn’t realize you were keeping track of me.” Your eyes look up and find that his are already tracing your features, the curve of your jaw and the tip of your nose. How long have you been this close to him? Close enough to see that he hasn’t slept in a while and close enough to briefly wonder if his lips would taste like burned sugar too. 

“I haven’t been. You’re usually on the front page,” your voice wobbles and you shift farther from him. “Tamaki and I like to read the paper together.” At the sound of your fiancé’s name, Bakugou gives a slight nod and shifts back too. Your fingers ghost over your ring. You catch him looking at the silver band briefly. Subconsciously you wish you haven’t said anything at all, and you swipe your thumb over your ring. 

The conversation dies, and when Bakugou pays, you go home to try and sleep. 

-(-)-

“What happened to your soulmate?” You ask Tamaki, who has gotten back from his trip now, over breakfast.  You watch his face wince, the pain of her loss still stinging even after decades. Shame takes its place quickly over the jealousy you feel for him, to have someone you love so much that every piece of you belongs to them and them you. 

“She… died. In a car accident.” Tamaki picks at his pancakes, doused in maple syrup. “When we were five.”

Shame burns hotter for you now. “That young?” Tamaki nods, taking a bite of the breakfast he made for you both. “You must’ve barely met her by that point.” 

He smiles sadly, “She used to be in my class with Mirio and I. At first, I thought I was just having dreams about school. I used to beg my parents to not send me to bed, I would get hives just thinking about school being in my dreams again.”

“How did you know she was your soulmate?” You think back to all the times in your life that you’ve asked this question. To your partners over the years who didn’t have their soulmates anymore or tried to cheat the system. The friends you had who swore to be single but fate gave them an emptiness to be filled by their love. 

And now him. When you and Tamaki started dating, you had the talk with him. The talk you had with everyone. You don’t have a soulmate. You won’t be fatefully theirs, they won’t be yours. If you have an assigned soulmate, please don’t waste my time.  The way he looked when you said this, the immensable sadness that washed over his features before giving you a small smile. His words were simple, enough to end the topic and enough to scare you from asking more. Well, good thing I don’t have a soulmate anymore. 

“We talked for hours in our dreams,” he sighs at the memory. “I learned things about her that I couldn’t have known if I didn't actually talk to her, so it was pretty much solid. Mirio didn’t meet his soulmate in real life until after high school, they both decided to wait and then exchange numbers. He couldn’t stop jumping and cheering when he heard their voice on the receiver,” Tamaki laughs and looks back at you with a melancholy smile. “You also just know. It’s like suddenly, your body just isn’t yours. It feels like you’re being pulled to them and as much as you want to escape, you can’t run. You don’t want to.”

“What was her name?”

He pauses. “Shinju.” There’s a softness in his voice you haven’t heard before, and you wonder what Tamaki’s life would’ve been like if his soulmate hadn’t died. Maybe they’d even be heroes together, fighting villains side by side with an unspeakable bond that no one could penetrate. He wouldn’t have a partner who would settle for less out of fear of being let go for someone else. He wouldn’t have someone who is a shell of who they are, destined to-

Destined for what? 

You don’t know what destiny has for you anymore. Before you were destined to be alone. But now Katuski appears in your dreams, sitting under fruit trees that you always wanted to have in your backyard, never facing you. Or he's by the ocean with waves softly crashing in front of him, warm sand underneath you both.

Before, you accepted that you would be alone. You refused for anyone to tell you that you must feel empty inside, for how else can anyone live without a beloved fucking soulmate? You told them to go fuck themselves, you proved them wrong by becoming a pro-hero despite having no natural goddamn cheerleader and you did it with a beaming ass smile and the ego that weighed more than what All Might could bench. 

You were fine. You were happy. 

Until you made yourself small. 

You aren’t empty inside. You’ve made yourself small. 

Tamaki was dreamy, he was shy and dreamy and sweet and romantic in all of his awkward ways. You allowed your light to be diminished under his shadow. 

Because eventually, all those people pitying you for being so alone, got to you. You’re human after all, isn’t it normal to feel melancholy when you see a couple laughing and holding hands? Isn’t it normal to wish to have someone love all of you, imperfections included? Isn’t it normal to want to have somebody be there for you? Isn’t it normal to not want to go to bed and wonder what it is like to have someone hold you? You weren’t as tough as you thought. You felt like you let down those people you met in forums for those without soulmates, the civilians and heroes who never was bestowed a soulmate who said “Fuck them, I’m my own person” and never even wanted to date. They were complete because they had family, friends, a career, sexy one night stands. They could rely on themselves and no one else. 

You don’t know where you fall anymore. 

-(-)-

Warmth | Zuko x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Avatar!Reader AU | Zuko has made many mistakes and holds uncountable regrets, but maybe Y/N can still love him back. Spoiler: she does.

REQUEST (by anon): “Could you do a zuko with maybe a f! avatar? Him falling in love with her like how they joked in ember island play. And him being tormented when she ‘dies’ in cross roads and them having some tender moment of confessing either in the western temple or ember island? maybe the play has the kiss and he confesses idk”

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

WARNINGS: Y/N is the Avatar, so Aang doesn’t exist. kissing, there might be swear words but I don’t really remember, bad editing. lots of mutual pining and some angst. I don’t know if I did this request justice but I really tried?

OBSERVATIONS: there’s a bit of Sokka x Reader bc I’m a weak woman but in the end he’s the main Zuko and Y/N shipper. not having Aang seriously hurt me. I wrote most of the Zuko sad rant in the beginning listening to Words Fail by Ben Platt and I think it would be interesting if you guys listened to that while reading? idk

I hope you all like it!!! feedback is always appreciated, so keep that in mind and thank you very much for reading!!

There was a hole inside his chest that Zuko simply couldn’t get rid of. It hurt him to his core, bringing pained sobs to the edge of his throat and slowly dismantling his soul.

He always thought getting rid of Y/N would quench his anger, rebuild his honor and complete his destiny. Now, his father accepted him again, Mai was his girlfriend, and Azula treated him like a true brother, in her own deranged ways. The Fire Nation considered him a hero, the man who killed the Avatar.

Then why did it trouble him so much? Why did he wake up every night in a cold sweat, with tears stinging his eyes? Why did he have the same nightmare over and over where he was the one responsible for her death, hitting her with lightning and watching as the light inside her disappeared, leaving behind only her idle body and Katara’s desperate cries? Why couldn’t he be satisfied? He had fulfilled his fate. He had done what he was meant to do, sided with his people, and fought against his greatest enemy. Why wasn’t he happy? Why couldn’t he ever be happy?

Keep reading

Hurt

Dabi x fem!Reader

⇢ word count: roughly 3.3K

⇢ plot: You've been seeing Dabi for some time now, but it's far from a healthy relationship. Still so, unexpectedly it all escalates one evening.

⚠️Warning: some language and descriptions may be upsetting if you are sensitive to blood, gore, or grotesque imagery.

⇢ warnings: 18+, angst with smut and a bad ending, Dabi's a prick, implied toxic relationship, domestic violence, tw:burn wound, slight dubcon elements, smoking, drinking, kissing, unprotected sex, creampie, cum, orgasm, angry emotional breakdown (both sides), implied cheating, yelling, screaming, blood, a bit of gore, maybe lovers to enemies?

⇢ NO MINORS ALLOWED!!!

personal note: have somehow been in the mood for writing angst and hurt recently. Special thanks to @hunajan for helping me rephrase a lot of sections <3

You didn't hear anything besides the sound of the torrential downpour of rain, not even the sloshing sound of your soaked shoes hitting the wet pavement.

Looking up into the sky and letting the rain pelt onto your face, you had to laugh — not a word about cloudbursts in the weather forecast this morning.

Life had a not-so-subtle way of fucking you over.

Continuing your way home, you rolled up the collar and pulled the coat tighter to prevent the chilly water from running down your back.

It was useless.

Clutching your bag to your chest, you hoped that at least your cellphone and wallet would survive the heavenly onslaught.

While wiping the water from your eyes, you continued walking towards the high rise that you lived in. Even though it was a short walk from the train station to your apartment, you were already soaked down to your core.

With cold and numb fingers, you dug your keys from your soggy pocket before slowly unlocking the door to your apartment. Once dragging your tired feet inside, you clicked the door shut and locked it behind you.

After flicking the living room light on and stepping out of your shoes, you got out of your drenched clothes that let out a moist sound once hitting the floor. You straightened up and stretched yourself with arms raised high before staggering towards the bathroom.

Allowing the steamy water of the shower to warm up your cold skin, your brain slowly started turning its gears.

And with that came back the memories of him.

Another night of being all by yourself in the empty apartment and sleeping alone. You kept telling yourself to stop wallowing and move on. That he wasn't any good for you, that what you had with him was toxic. You kept trying to convince yourself that this had to end, hoping that he would never appear again.

But you also knew those were pointless thoughts.

Once dried off and with the towel still crowning your head, you walked towards the kitchen.

Lingering in your own thoughts, you recalled that he had disappeared again without warning or a prior message. It had been weeks now since you last saw or heard of him.

Whether he was dead, hurt, or gone forever, you didn't know.

And you didn't care anymore.

As if.

After pouring yourself a glass of Gin, you strode over to the couch and slumped down on it — not wanting to think about him or what you were going to do next. You just needed some time for yourself, just a little while to relax and breathe.

Still, there was no denying it – you yearned for him so badly and yet he kept disappearing and keeping you at distance. You placed the blame on your stupidity and loneliness for missing him so much.

With heavy emotions bearing down on you, you braced your face in your hands and let the tears run free.

You felt so broken inside, so unfilled.

You took a big inhale and released your face before reaching for the glass with the clear liquid in it.

You stared at it as if it was telling you that it would all be better if you just poured it down your throat. Without hesitation, you brought the glass up to your lips and gulped the Gin with the best intention to numb that annoying nagging voice inside of you.

It kept the thoughts in your head from racing, those half-lidded cerulean eyes from staring so seductively at you from behind your closed eyes.

You were on your second glass when the alcohol started working. Your mind dazed over, your brain all warm and fuzzy — when suddenly there was a distinct knock on the door.

You sat up sharply and focused your stare at the door.

As you checked what time it was, you knew there was only one person in this world showing up at your door this late.

And of all people, he was the last person you wanted to talk to right now.

You kept staring, wiping away the tears with your forearms, not moving when you heard a second thump, this time more demanding.

“Go away–-” You mumbled, surprised by the slur in your voice.

“'M happy to see you too.” a husky rasp came from across the door.

“Just leave me alone—” you were trying hard to sound like you meant it.

"Not gonna happen," his voice low and saturated with determination, "Lemme in."

"I'm not going to, Dabi," It was the Gin that encouraged you to be louder and more brave than usual.

Silence followed as the spoken words were slowly absorbed by the thick walls surrounding you.

"I wanna see you," he tenderly added.

You swallowed down a big sob, regained your composure, and muttered, "So what? Didn't seem to miss me the last two weeks you've been gone."

Silence.

"Dabi?"

"Still here…" you heard a thump outside the door that was followed by the same silence again.

You wiped your remaining tears off your lashes and strode over to the door. There was no sound outside except for the faint sizzle when he took a drag from his cigarette.

You leaned your forehead against the door, "You're not gonna leave, are you?"

"Nope, doll," he exhaled, the faint yet familiar smell of cigarette smoke invading your apartment and tingling your nostrils.

You turned around with your back and head resting against the door before slowly sliding down as your legs were too exhausted to hold up your weight.

"Dabi, seriously, this is not going to work."

"C’mon babe, just let me in and we’ll talk," his voice seemed to trail off.

"You can't keep doing this. I- '' you swallowed hard, bracing yourself, “I really like you. But you keep hurting me."

There was a pause again and a shuffle outside as he seemed to lean against the door.

"Can't we talk about this inside?" His voice was hoarse and low, creeping underneath your skin and having goosebumps erupt all over, "Just let me in."

"It'll only end up again with us in bed and nothing solved—" you exhaled, the corner of your lips trembling with unavoidable emotion.

An evident sigh was heard from outside, "Look, 'm sorry."

You sniffled, rubbing your eyes as if that would help understand the words better, "You're what?"

"Heard me alright, don't ask me to repeat it again," he scoffed at once, "Gonna let me in now, doll?"

You knew that stewing by yourself wasn't going to help sort out this issue, so you rolled your eyes and sighed, "Dabi?"

"Yes?" He grumbled lowly.

"Promise that we'll only talk if I let you in? Nothing else?"

"Anything for you, doll face," he rasped with a breathy chuckle.

So you stood up, unlocked the door, and let him in. Without waiting, you sat down on the couch before grabbing your drink again. The couch sank in when he sat down next to you, leaning forward to grab the remote, switching the TV on.

No other sound was in the room except for the TV, him staring at it as if you weren't there. It made you sink down even further into the cushions, unsure of what to say next.

You bit your lower lip and restlessly gnawed on it while fumbling with your hands. He flipped through the channels, filling the room with anything but conversation. His cold eyes glanced over to you, seeing how you nervously fiddled your fingers.

Then without a warning, he was on you, your protests muffled by his tender yet fierce lips on your neck and his hands trailing up your side.

Just as you were about to complain, you were cut off by his hands grabbing your face before he crashed his lips against yours. One of his hands let loose and guided yours down until it pressed against his clothed erection.

As he pulled back, a silver string of saliva connected your lips, his rapturous blue eyes looking down at you while still using your hand to stroke himself off, "Babe, I know you want this—"

His voice was low and husky as he groaned lightly in that specific way that made your face heat up and lust bloom inside your belly.

You gulped, letting him continue, the feeling of his hot and hard meat straining against his pants too enticing.

His lips spread into a cocky grin and he dipped down again. His hand released yours just to slide under your shirt, up your body, and onto your breasts.

Strong arms found their way around your back, pulling you close as he flipped around, placing you right on his crotch.

You let out a reluctant squeak as he jerked his hips up into you slow and lazy, grinning at you for biting your lips to suppress more whimpers.

“Want me so badly, huh?” he growled softly.

He firmly pulled your body against his and stared into your eyes before bringing his lips against yours. His tongue slid across your bottom lip, making you draw a deep, heady breath in response to the wave of heat sweeping through you. The corner of his mouth curled into a sheepish grin, as he lightly slipped his tongue between your lips. Then, with his soft warm mouth abusing yours, sucking your lips, he dipped his tongue past your lips, coaxing them open.

You felt a fluttering inside, your body craving him so badly. A shallow gasp escaped from within you while his breathing became heavier, the tidal wave of lust that had just churned within you grew rapidly into a full-blown tsunami.

He pulled back a little and looked at you, shakily exhaling.

Hooking his fingers under your shirt, he pulled it off and your bra followed with one smooth snap of his talented fingers, having your breasts spill free.

With tongue flat against your skin, he licked along your breast before sealing his mouth around your puckered nipple and starting to suck the sensitive nub hard. A gasp fell from your lips, making him smile, his teeth grazing along your delicate flesh and sending shivers up your spine.

"Let's move this somewhere more comfortable," his raspy voice mumbled and before you could protest, he forced his lips on yours again and swallowed up your feeble protests. His hands dug into the skin of your butt and with a swift strong move, he got up and carried you off to the bedroom.

He laid you down on the soft sheets, his mouth still attached to yours as he made quick work of your pants, pulling them off in one go.

Every little mewl and protest was relentlessly swallowed up by him while his hand slid underneath the hem of your underwear, his dexterous fingers starting to play with your sensitive nub, dipping down repeatedly between your folds to gather your juices. You moaned softly in response, having him snicker and release you before admiring the glistening strings of your slickness between his spread fingers.

“You're soaked baby," he chuckled, "Can't tell me you don't want this.”

“I didn't want this to end in bed—” you protested but he just tutted quietly while getting up and undressed.

"Your body’s telling me otherwise" he cocked his head, staring you down as his lips curled into a smirk.

He leaned back as he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his lean, muscular torso.

His nimble hands unbuckled his pants next, pushing them along his thighs before they dropped to the floor and allowed his thick cock spring free— he never was too fond of underwear.

After stripping you out of your clothes, he moved his body on top of you and leaned in for another longing kiss.

With an agonizingly slow pace, he guided himself into you, thrusting his length inside inch by inch. He let you adjust to his size for a moment before starting to move, at first just grinding into you, then deeper, hitting just every right spot each time he sank into you.

There was no denying it. It felt so good to be so close to him. Feeling him inside of you as he fit so perfectly.

He pinned you down with his whole body, breathing heavily as he started fucking you. You clung to each other tightly as his hips smacked loudly against yours. He didn't stop kissing you, hunting for your tongue, your moans and whimpers mingling with his needy groans.

As he picked up the pace, you started to get lost in the pleasure, calling out his name over and over again. Unable to focus on anything else but the feeling of him inside of you, you felt so overwhelmed by his deep, unrelenting thrusts.

He gripped your throat, forcing you in place as the tingling inside you grew into a white heat, the tension in your core growing tighter and tighter until the coil snapped and you came.

Shockingly loud moans mixed with his name spilled from your mouth, your back arched as waves of pleasure ran through you, having you clamp down on him like a vice. His hips stuttered and he followed you into bliss with a long, drawn-out groan, releasing his creamy seed deep inside of you.

He stayed in place, softening cock still inside of you with no intentions to pull out. Even though you felt sweaty and a little uncomfortable, it was nice to have his heartbeat thumping against your own.

All worries were swept away at that moment, feeling so blissed out, so close to him.

Then he rolled off, but instead of laying with you, he stood up and strutted off to the bathroom. You heard water running as he started washing himself off.

After he was done, he simply walked over to the pile of clothes that were thrown on the floor and got dressed.

"Ok, I'll be going then," with this he turned towards the door.

"You what?" You uttered in disbelief, propping yourself up on your elbows.

"Heard me right, babe," his bored eyes gleaming down at you.

"W-Why— and where?" You swung your legs off the bed, hastily grabbed your shirt, and pulled it on.

"None of your fuckin business," his dry answer made your stomach twist.

"Dabi, we just had this discussion—" you swallowed the rising bile before slowly walking over to him, your voice getting louder with every word, "Stop closing up like this and stop walking away!"

"This is fuckin’ stupid," he hissed while sauntering towards the door.

"I can't do this anymore!" with your admission, hot, angry tears sprung to your eyes.

He spun around, seething, "What do you fucking want me to say, huh? To move in together? Share a fucking life?" His eyes were glowing with rage now and you made out a faint scent of burnt skin wavering through the room.

"All I want is for you to start being honest with me!" you yelled back at him.

You didn't even have time to inhale, he was on you that fast, grabbing your chin and pulling you close.

"Oh, you want the truth, huh? S'that what it is?" His furious eyes boring into yours.

You ripped at his arm, trying to pry it off of you but his grip was relentless. His digits dug into your delicate skin, sure to bruise the next day. Using his own body to back you up, he shoved you a few feet and you stumbled before he let go of you.

Catching yourself, you glared at him before rubbing your sore cheeks, "If you just need someone to blow off steam, go and just fuck some other girls."

"Oh, 'm already doing that, doll," his lips curled into a cocky smirk, cold eerie eyes scornfully burning into yours as he stood there, grinning at you with full pride.

Your heart stopped as those words sank in. All the rage that built up instantly disappeared and was replaced with a numbing cold sensation.

You couldn't control it. Your hand automatically came up and slapped him across his face.

"You're just as heartless as your father!" It barely came out as a whisper.

He froze, his chilling voice, colder than you had ever heard, growled, making goosebumps erupt on your skin, "What did you just say?"

Maybe it should've been a warning, but you didn't care anymore. The rage inside flared up again, blooming once more too strong, too hot, in your veins.

You glared at Dabi, jaw set as you forced out, "You heard me alright, you're just like Enj—"

It happened in a blur — he was on you with a vicious roar, his face contorted into a grimace, roughly shoving you across the room and against the wall by your shoulder.

There was a bright blue flash before your head and back hit the wall with such force that punched the air from your lungs.

Your vision darkened, ringing as shrill as a fire alarm in your ears— white spots danced across your retina as the taste of copper slowly overtook your tastebuds.

You first smelled it. The acrid, stomach-churning odor of burnt flesh and hair. Nauseatingly sweet and putrid, the smell was so thick and rich you could almost taste it.

Choking on air, your mind hurled back into reality with the speed of lightning. The throbbing pain in the back of your head shot through your brain, making it hard to stay conscious but you managed to stay awake anyways.

Your eyes refocused and your gaze wandered up, until your eyes met Dabi’s. And what you saw scared you more than anything you'd seen before. His usually controlled expression was now ridden with horror, even shock. His mouth kept closing and opening, desperately trying to form words. But nothing came out.

His hand, outstretched, was still smoking.

You followed his hollow gaze and turned your head towards your shoulder. Where his hand had grabbed you just a moment ago, was now an unrecognizable horrid mess of a blackened, flakey wound the size of Dabi's hand. The charred and open area of flesh was surrounded by blistered and bleeding tissue, splitting and curling away from the layers below. Surprisingly, you felt no pain though.

No, instead you felt empty.

As if from far away, you heard yourself mutter "Get out.”

"M Sorry—" He croaked, voice hoarse with shock.

Gathering all your strength, you pressed out between gritted teeth "I said to get out,” your mind swirling, trying to stand tall, swaying nonetheless.

Despair filled his expression, eyes helplessly darting between your marred shoulder and your face, his lips opening to repeat those words "M’sorry, doll, I– I didn't–"

Cold anger kindled inside you, eating you up and making you forget all about your mangled shoulder. Your vision turned from dull to red as you threw yourself at him, pounding at his chest with both your arms, having the skin of the burnt shoulder crack open and start to bleed.

"Get out, get out, get out!" Your screams were ringing through the room, echoing in your ears.

You threw yourself at him with all your might as Dabi stumbled backward each time - pale and shaking, still mumbling incoherent apologies.

You felt a surge of power as you reached out for your door, yanked it open, and pushed him outside with your last effort, before throwing the door shut and turning the lock.

For a few moments, nothing was heard from the other side before the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, becoming quieter until they faded completely.

Silence settled in.

Heavily panting, you swayed before falling to your knees, a mind-numbing pain starting to emanate from your shoulder, almost blinding your vision. You started rocking back and forth, tears continuing to flow as bitter sobs wracked your body, robbing you of the ability to scream and hardly allowing you to draw a breath.

There was not a sound to be heard from the other side of the door.

He was gone.

Forever.

Warm blood dripped down your arm and torso, pooling on the floor, slowly gelling as you kept crying - until you were empty. Empty and dead inside.

You knew it.

Life had a not-so-subtle way of fucking you over.

Where You Belong Masterlist

Prince Shoto Todoroki x Court Lady Reader

Warnings: Forbidden love, family tensions, mentions of abuse, angst, eventual smut, FLUFF LOTS AND LOTS OF FLUFF

A/N: hey everyone! I'm so happy for the positive reaction my poll got that helped me decide to post this lovely fic over here! The Ao3 link is still functioning if you prefer to read on that platform I will be updating my post soon. I hope everyone enjoys, I put a lot of soul into this piece!

Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are very much appreciated and treasured like gold ✨️

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Everything You Wanted (Zuko x Servant! Reader) PART ONE

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗶 𝘀𝗽𝘂𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗯𝗶𝗴 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝗶𝗳𝘂 𝗵𝗼𝘁𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝗺𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚: 𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗼𝗿, 𝗿𝗼𝘆𝗮𝗹𝘁𝘆/𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽, 𝗦𝗣𝗢𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝟮

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁: 𝗼𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝘄𝗼 || 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 || 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿 || 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲 || 𝘀𝗶𝘅 || 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 || 𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 || 𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝗲𝗻 || 𝗲𝗽𝗶𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

For the first time in years, the room of the Banished Prince looked inhabited.

You swallowed down a shiver as you pushed the large doors open and stepped inside. You had no right to do this. You had no right to walk through one of the royal bedrooms with curious eyes and curious hands rather than a downcasted head and shuffling feet. Your purpose in life was to serve the royal family. You were to worship the very ground they walked on and to cherish the very air that they breathed. Yet here you were, acting as if you were their equal. Acting as if you belonged here. As if you didn’t know your place. 

No matter how cruel the royal family was, you knew that you never amounted to nothing more but just another grain of sand in the Si Wong Desert. Insignificant. Expendable. Replaceable. You should know this. You do know this. You’ve always known this.

Yet, you couldn’t help it. You had almost lost all hope. It was no wonder you had lost yourself within your own passion when you heard he was coming home.

Stepping lightly on the expenses floors, you made sure to carefully leave the door open just a little. It was the same way as you found it- no doubt a result of Prince Zuko leaving his room in a hurry to a meeting that was just abruptly called. The thought made you frown as you gripped the hem of your dress and silently made your way across the large room. 

You hadn’t seen him since his return except from afar. You couldn’t dare to. From the day you met him as just a little servant girl, hiding behind her mother’s legs, you felt the blossoming of a crush within your naive, child-sized heart. But as time grew on, you matured. You grew and grew and grew, but you never could quite outgrow your feelings for the Crown Prince. Instead, your feelings seemed to evolve over time. Shy glances and soft stutters from a little girl that desperately wished for her puppy love to go away moved on to become warm faces and daring thoughts from a teenage girl with a brain bolder than a servant should ever have. 

You sighed longingly as you walked up to the large four-poster bed that sat in the middle of the room. Moonlight poured in the window, giving the ornately decorated but mostly empty room a haunting glow. Never in your life have you ever done something as audacious as trespassing on one of the royal bedrooms. But only in private could you act on your whims and wishes. Only in private could you dream up a double meaning for every single glance or word he had sent in your direction. You could fantasize what it was like to be held in the arms of his forbidden affections. But you were only a peasant. Nothing but a simple girl. You would never see a truth in your daydreams. You would forever have to play make-believe about a Prince who didn’t know your name would one day love you. 

So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice how far you traveled into the room until you found yourself sitting on red sheets that held small, beautiful patterns. The bed wasn’t made. It served as another sign of his hasty departure. But it was another sign that you shouldn’t be here. You don’t know when he’ll come back. He might even appear in the middle of your dangerous game. Even so, you could not help but reach out a hand to get a feel of a luxurious material you’ve only washed and dried. The fabric was still warm in some places. Hardly a moment of rest for royalty, you suppose. But surely the Crown Prince deserved a break after his banishment, right? You heard of his noble feats. No ordinary man could do what the great Prince Zuko had done- you were sure of it.  

Trailing your fingers of the fine silk, you froze, drawing in a sharp breath as you realized the weight of your actions. These thoughts of yours were reckless in every shape of the word. You were getting far too comfortable with breaking rules tonight. Or was this carelessness? Either way, this would surely result in your if you didn’t-

“Don’t stop now. You looked like you were getting comfortable.” 

You should have never come here.

“My Prince!” You stood up suddenly, backing into one of the large golden pillars of his four-poster bed. The light from the hallway casted a large shadow across his face as he stood with his back against the large door. His arms were folded over his red-robed chest, and a familiar scowl rested on his face as he looked at you in what you could only imagine being disgust. You couldn’t help but gulp at his expression, heartbreaking into pieces, as you bowed your head deeply and upturned your palms in submission. “F-forgive me, my Prince! When I heard of your return, I-”

You were an idiot. A fool. Deep down, you knew this was going to happen. How could you ever think to sneak into the crown prince’s bedroom without any repercussions? There were guards posted everywhere. The Fire Nation Royal Palace was built not unlike Boiling Rock. A heavily guarded, heavily armed fortress with eyes posted everywhere. No matter how innocent your intentions may have been, there is no doubt that your hubris will go not go unpunished. Maybe you even wanted this to happen. Perhaps you were so desperate for his attention- so desperate to stand out to him that it drove you to do the unthinkable. In the pursuit of your dear Prince’s adoration, you found yourself the object of his glare.

Or so you thought. 

Amidst your mindless babbling, you missed how he pushed himself off of the door and shut it with a loud thud. He unfolded his arms and stalked his way over to you shaking form with a confidence you had never seen before. The time he spent away from his home had hardened him into a warrior. A predator that had spent countless nights honing his skill to be the best of the very best. The man who killed the avatar. And now you were his prey. He was taking his time with you. Toying with you. Enjoying you. Drinking in your very being with insatiable, glowing gold eyes. With slow, calculated steps, he inched closer and closer until he was able to shove your back into a pillar. 

Instinctively, a gasp poured through your lips as the back of your head hit the hard surface. You couldn’t tell if that felt worse than his tight grip on your arms or the ache in your heart. Either way, something had to be the cause of the tears that threatened to spill. The way he caged in your body with his own intimidating physique was suffocating. While the position looked intimate, the situation was dangerous. At this moment, he was both your jailer and escape- a conflict of emotions and interests that sent your dizzy mind in an uproar. 

His right hand loosened its grip on your forearm before it let go of it completely. He turned his palm towards you, and you felt your eyes widen in silent distress. Was this your punishment? Were you to be burned right where you stood? With no hope of mercy, repentance, or forgiveness? 

By the hands of the man you loved?

But deep down, you knew you had no right to complain. Your eyes closed slowly as you fell limp in his grip. You truly had no right to argue or barter about your punishment. You were a peasant. You had rules. But you broke them. Now you have to pay the price. You dug your grave. It was only right that you take everything that was given to you with blurry eyes and a thankful heart that reminded you of how things could have been worse. 

But your punishment never came. 

“I’ve lost everything, you know?” 

Light as a feather, his right hand circled your left wrist and pulled it towards his figure. This was unexpected. His movements were slow and shaky- as if he was the one who should be fearing for his life. Never in your life did you imagine that you’d ever find yourself in such a situation. A situation that stemmed from what should have been a punishment, no less. And yet, his touch was delicate as he placed your hand on a part of his chest that was left open through his robe. Your eyes flickered open to meet his intense golden gaze as your palm made contact with burning skin and a soft but steady beat. His heart.

“Everything.” He repeated, not once taking his eyes off of you. Nodding shakily, you mouthed the powerful word with silent lips. You had never seen his scar before. You thought it made him look very handsome. “Everything.”

His voice had become raspy and low with age. It held a certain heaviness that weighed down your own heart as you detected the swirl of emotions that lived behind the voice. It was as if despair and rage had grabbed at his throat with an iron grip and crushed and crushed until there was nothing left but bitterness, regret, and loss. Despite this, it was soft. Soft and quiet in an almost soothing way. Was this acceptance of his own secret troubles? Was this relief to be home? Or… was this voice reserved for you?

But like fire, he changed his course very quickly.

“My pride. My honor. My status. My throne. My family.”

His next words came out in a deep and threatening growl. If he had gotten any louder, you’d be inclined to call it a shout. You could feel the threat that punctuated all of the things he lost as he snatched up your other wrist with unexpected strength. You were trapped in the way he wanted you to be as he held you in a tight grip. One hand made to be pressed against his chest. Another hand held suspended in the air. This was the warrior you could hear behind the voice. But this was not the boy you once knew. This was not the boy you fell hopelessly in love with. This was not your Prince Zuko. This was all that was left of him. All that was left of the boy who was forced to leave home.

So you whimpered. 

And he softened. 

He relaxed his hold on you with a sigh and hung his head. But he didn’t let go. His long hair created a shadow over his eyes and face making his expressions unreadable. You didn’t know what to think. For a while, he was as still as a corpse. If it weren’t the soft pulsating of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips and the slow rise and fall of his chest, you could have been convinced that he was the one who died right where he stood. And that scared you.

You were surprised when he brought his head up and started to move again. Moving slowly and with that feather-light grip he had earlier, the hand held your wrist in the air guided your hand closer and closer until finally…it rested on the left side of his face. The second you made contact with the burned skin, you watched his eyes grow steely and hard as they trained on your face. He was watching you. Almost daring you to indulge. A challenge you selfishly accepted. 

Your thumb trailed little circles on his cheek, causing gold eyes to slip close as he pressed against your hand. A deep inhale followed by a quiet exhale as he cuddled into you like a young child. You could not believe it. Your poor heart has been through too much excitement today. The chance to live out your crush was starting to feel like too much. But every touch- every little feeling as your thumb circled over the cold, rough, red skin of his burn reminded you that this was real. That this was happening and that this was now and that he was in pain and you are the one to comfort him. Tonight, you weren’t dreaming. His body is far too warm to think otherwise.

“Starting tomorrow,” He spoke with his eyes closed- voice barely above a whisper as you both selfishly gave in to your desires as servant and master. Prince and peasant. Everything and nothing. “Your new orders are to serve me and me alone, got it?”

“Yes,” You whispered, voice barely traveling to his ears. It was almost lost in the ambiance of the world outside the Prince’s moon-lit bedroom. But you knew he heard it. You could tell by the way he shivered in your hold. “Yes, my prince.”

There was a pregnant pause before he opened his eyes and stepped away from your touch.

“You are not to leave my side. Wherever I go, you go. No matter what anyone tells you.” He ordered with all the firmness and finality a prince could hold. With his face set in a straight line and his eyes holding you in an intimidating stare, you couldn’t do anything but quietly nod your head and avert your gaze. But with one last bold movement, he stepped towards you and grabbed your chin, and forced your head up to meet his eyes.

“I’ve lost everything.” He repeated quietly. How he managed to sound more heartbroken than the first time he told you, you’ll never know. But oh, how you felt it. 

“ But I will not lose my everything. Ever. Again.”

And with a final growl, he was gone. The moment between you two has ended, leaving you with nothing but questions you will never ask. Questions you’ll never get answers to. Questions you’ll never fully understand.

But you couldn’t complain. You couldn’t dare complain about what just happened. You got his intimate hold. You got his kind eyes. His kind voice. His attention. And now? You get to be by his side from now on. 

You got everything that you wanted, didn’t you?

Right?

We’re Only Kidding Ourselves

You work as a production assistant for the Spider-Man: Far From Home crew, or rather as Tom Holland’s handler. The two of you don’t get along very well to say the least, but you won’t quit and he can’t fire you so you’re stuck with each other.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen💦 | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen | Part Sixteen | Part Seventeen 💦 | Part Eighteen | Part Nineteen | Part Twenty 💦 | Part Twenty-One | Part Twenty-Two | Part Twenty-Three 💦 | Part Twenty-Four | Part Twenty-Five | Part Twenty-Six | Part Twenty-Seven | Part Twenty-Eight | Part Twenty-Nine | Part Thirty 💦 | Epilogue | completed on 10.03.2019

playlist by @cinnamon-roll-peter

gifset by @honeymoonlover

can we have another yandere bakugou bully? i have nothing unique maybe the common on where he likes to bully the girl severely all throughout highschool and then when they are abt to graduate that’s where he kidnap. If u want to add smut it’s okay but i don’t really mind i kinda just like the fear when u write like that little scared feeling THATS ITTTTT OMG I LOVE UR FICSSSSS

yandere bully ! BAKUGO KATSUKI

TIP-JAR

goodiebag WARNINGS: nsfw, dubcon/noncon, jealousy, stalking, obsession to the extreme, manipulation, blackmail, sexual harassment  angst, bullying, trauma, threats, death/near death of a third character, slut shaming

BAD GUY

How long had she known Bakugo? 

All her life. 

That was the short answer. 

He’s made himself known. Without fail, without break, without mercy. 

Childhood friends? 

Neighbours... 

That’s what she’d say.

As though there was nothing more to it. Like he wasn't a stain on her life. A stain no amount of bleach or vinegar-and-soda or peroxide-and-dish-soap could ever hope to remove.

Come to think of it, he was more like a scar than a stain. Or really, more like an open wound refusing to heal.

Which was why it felt like a rusty blade being twisted in her gut when she opened the door to find him the one who’d rung her apartment’s bell.

“I guess... what I’ve been trying to say- what I wanted to say... was... I’m sorry.” 

He’d been scratching the back of his neck throughout the entirety of what jumbled, struggled, sorry excuse for an apology he’d forced from somewhere unknown in the hard clump of ember he had for a heart.

Something which unsurprisingly made for an insulting effort to erase what effects he’d had on her childhood.

One staggering sentence after the other of frustrating confessions, wishes gone to waste, things he hadn't meant, things he would have done differently if only he were fourteen years younger, and he could start again right when his quirk manifested before he turned into a self-righteous narcissistic prick of human waste. One dedicated to making everyone revere him by fearing him.

“For everything.” 

He put his hands in his pockets, but she could still see how they twitched inside the hoodie and bet they were weeping with sweat, adamant about starting fires.

“For all the years I put you through hell.” 

He was taller now, she noted. While calculating how she’d have to call the police if she were to stand a chance of making him leave if he decided to do what he always did and make himself comfortable.

He was bigger as well. Probably thanks to UA, making him look like a true right and shining Hero... but all she could see was how it was as though he’d swelled like some blister or bruise, like some boil ready to pop and leak its nasty contents all over her life. 

“Well?” He urged, ripping her from her heavy train of thought.

She blinked. 

“Well, what?” She bit out. Still holding the door. Ready to close it if he were to try and step inside.

“Do you accept the apology?” He asked, leaning forward. Where, on pure survival instinct, she immediately drew back. While the gap between the door and frame became slimmer as she pulled it like a shield in front of her.

Her brows dipped. Eyes not daring to close. Not allowing him a single second of rest under her justified judgment.

“No.” She barked, only barely managing to avoid the scoff that wanted to follow, yet surprising herself with the strength her voice carried.

“W-what-” He started, but she wasn't feeling particularly eager to listen to any more of his dumb excuses or half-hearted regrets or too little-too-late so-called apologies.

“You fuck with me for eighteen years...”

It was strange looking directly into his vermillion eyes, watching him be the one to shrink away, him be the one to switch his footing, tense like a shamed pet under his owner's harsh, scolding voice. It almost wouldn't even have surprised her if he'd whimpered just a little with how round his eyes were, looking just like a kicked pup. 

“And you think some half-assed apology is just suddenly going to make everything okay?”

“W-” He tried, his gaze shifting to look down at his feet.

“No.” She stopped him.

Opening the door to its original cavity. She struck a dominant pose even though he was a full head taller, her eyes narrowing in something that could only resemble disgust. 

“You’re the reason I went through all of middle-school scared and alone.”

His ears drew back meekly. Feeling small under what look she was giving him. 

“I left classes early in fear of meeting you in the halls. I made sure to look around the corners before walking down them. I ate lunch in the bathroom and listened from behind the door in case you were out there waiting.” She confessed, her eyes still maintaining contact with his, firmer the more he shrunk away. “I ran home unless you hadn't already caught me, I cried myself to sleep, I lied to my parents every single fucking day because I was afraid that if they got involved with your parents, you’d have to face the wrath of your mom, and I didn't want that for you.” 

With water welling in her eyes now, she looked to the ceiling. Taking a breath, she clenched her jaw and almost chuckled at the absurdity of it. Not caring how Bakugo’s eyes seemed to widen even more. 

“I was afraid to play on our block ‘cause I knew you would come out and make me regret it.” 

She bit her lip, looking at the guy that would yank her hair to pull her inside his locker, leaving her there for entire periods.

Make her listen as he beat Deku up in the hall, his friends like goons on his side, laughing as Izuku snivelled. 

“People were afraid to be seen with me.” 

Knuckles were white and hot from how hard she clenched her fist at her side, the other gripping the door with nails marring the wood. 

“Not because I’m quirkless, but because of you.” 

Her hard gaze met him like daggers. Plunged right between his ribs into that thing that seemed to only beat faster the more she spoke. 

“You had me think that was my fault.”

A tear slipped its confinement and went dripping down her cheek, a thin stream following it.

Her breath shuddered on intake. 

“You made me think- you made think being quirkless was- was -a curse -a crime -a fucking abomination.”

Her shoulders grazed as she looked down to the ground and let more tears fall while Katsuki stood there frigid and so very rightfully uncomfortable. 

“You made me feel like I didn’t deserve to breathe.”

He opened his mouth but quickly swallowed it as he realized he would only be repeating what dumb unsatisfactory words he’d given her before. 

“You made me hate myself.” 

She couldn't possibly hate herself more than she hated him, he thought. 

“And if it wasn’t for Izuku... I wouldn’t be here.”

His thoughts flashed back to seeing her help the green-haired geek up off the floor each time he grew bored picking on him. After the halls had filled with enough smoke, it’d stain the walls grey, the scent of burning sugar a lingering reminder of who there runs the school.

“Still, you had the nerve to go about making him feel worthless too.”

She would shove him aside at once when he’d unlock his locker. She'd push at him to let her drop to her knees and tend to the green-eyed fucker who’d had the breath knocked from him. The twerp wheezing like a pathetic runt on the dirty school floors. So shamelessly unaware of how lucky he was to have someone like her tend to him.

Katsuki cleared his throat.

“I’ve talked to him too. We’re... working it out. Just tell me what I need to-” 

“I’ll accept your apology when I stop waking up in the middle of the night because I think I feel you breathing down my neck.” She cut him off again. “When I stop looking over my shoulder because I think I hear you coming. When I stop hearing your voice in my head telling me that I’m useless, that I'm worth nothing, that I'm better off dead.” 

Her eyes sized him up. Or, rather, took in his seemingly beaten state. Finding somewhat pleasure in the fact that there was at least one thing she could deny him. 

“Until then, all you need to do is leave me alone.”

At that, she shut the door and locked it.

Her back pressed against the wood almost immediately as she drooped like drying paint. Sliding down to the ground, she listened while bating her breath for the retreating steps of the boy on the opposite side. Fearing that her speech hadn't slapped him hard enough for him to go home and lick his wounds.

Katsuki stood there for a moment, and years seemed to pass.

Hood lifted over his head, his body slouched with the terrible looming weight that pressed down upon him. Feeling so fucking tired and worn and defeated as he lifted his boot to saunter back down the stairs and make his way home.

A home, which was now not right across the street like it was back when they were kids, but a whole car ride away. Seemingly lives away. A beaten track of heavy regrets and loud, blinding, bitter disappointments.

All to be blamed on him.

~~~

It had been quiet lately.

A few comments were hurled at Deku here and there. Though they were dismissible in their dynamic as rivals.

But, as surprising as it was to admit, Bakugo had kept to her wish.

Where, overlooking those times she could feel his red stare lingering on her and searing notches into her neck, he had left her alone.

He would even give her a smile when their eyes locked gaze. Nothing like those blood-dripping battle grins but soft toothless quirks playing at the corner of his lips. Pleasant and weirdly hopeful, as though she’d come over and talk to him. Like they were friends.

Suppose she should believe Izuku when he told her Kachan was better. That he’d actually gone and grown up. That the hero course was succeeding in grooming him to become a fine hero, with the merit someone talented as him should have. That even they had a fighting chance at moving on, going back to how they’d push each other on the swing set back when they were four. 

She doubted it. 

She bet he’d be strung in his rightful and true colors not before long. Just red on red in red. Slipping right back into his ugly habits of making the world his playground and the people his toys.

This was just an act.

Those smiles he gave her were nothing but bait. Nothing but lies that would ensnare her in yet another decade of living under his boot.

But time is a funny thing. Where as much as you try fighting it, it always passes.

And paranoia is a difficult plant to grow during droughts.

And with months flying by, summer break being sweetly perfect for once, she’d soon enough discarded the notion that it was a trail bound to error or the calm before the storm.

In fact... she’d more or less let it fade like normal memories should. The open wound that used to be Bakugou’s sinister grin keeping her company at night had stopped bleeding.

And in the healing and pleasant quiet, she’d allowed herself to... let loose a little.

Or perhaps she’d just forgotten to be cautious when she was swept up in those ocean-blue eyes and that diamond-bright smile.

Maybe the warm, fuzzy feeling purring inside her gut was worth forgetting and even forgiving Bakugou in favor of getting lost to something else, someone else. Something a little warmer than hatred and a burning way more welcoming than what explosions Bakugou could offer her.

.

Meanwhile... Bakugou was going insane. 

He’d been wrong. 

He thought quitting his torment on her would be easier than with Deku, but Deku proved to be the least of his worries. In some form or way... they were actually getting closer. Going back to their roots and almost amounting to something he could only call brotherhood.

But with her...

It seemed he was only drifting farther and farther away.

He saw her hold hands with some blue-eyed fuck at lunch the other day. Heard her laugh, which pushed him with such force, thrusting him back in time. Retrieving some faint yet precious memory of her and him drying in the sun after bathing in the quarry on a warm summer’s day, back when no one and nothing could be more important than hearing that sound.

A laugh so light. So fluttering and blooming and beautiful. Followed by a snort that stuck in her nose.

It was enough to make his eyes shimmer and his ears burn while hanging onto every sound, trying to ingrain it, memorise it. Trying to ink down how it made him feel. 

He made the mistake of finding her face in the crowd of what table she was seated at. Her small frame held inside the arms of the jerk she was pulled inside the lap of. A bright smile on both their faces, so bright he almost didn't even recognise her. 

But it was her.

It shouldn't have surprised him.

He’d already seen the pictures on social media when going about his normal routine of checking up on all her different forums. Already fully aware of how the bastard was some summer fling she was the poor victim of. 

He should have been prepared for it, but fuck....

It had hurt.

It had been loud and violent and jagged, like falling down a cliffside, yet so deathly silent as he sat safely in his room.

Kirishima and Denki were about halfway through their third or perhaps even fourth spliff. Laughing like clueless fucking morons without a shred or lick of issues and consequences. Having always just been nothing but laughs and smiles.

Fucking hell... He envied them so much sometimes. To be that dim. To be that careless and big-hearted and good-natured and... 

It doesn't really matter. 

Jealousy gets him nowhere.

He’s him, and they’re them, and fantasy is just that.

He knows this, and still, he finds himself fantasising about her smiling at him and giggling with him. Sitting in his lap. Whispering sweet little mischievous nothings in his ear and kissing him and talking to him and touching him and loving him.

He was so fucking frigid lately. So uncontrollably bothered and provoked and uncomfortable.

He’d even asked Deku who the fucker was. Had him spill all her dirty little secrets. How she’d been seeing the blue-eye fuck for a short while. How she thought he was really sweet and kind. How he made her happy. 

And the more he let himself think about it, let it fester like acid bubbling and foaming on his heart, the more blinding the pain became. 

And so following the pain, like it always does and always had with Bakugou...

Came rage.

She’d betrayed him. Broken his good will. 

He should have known...

Give a bitch some lee-way with her leash, and she'll take a fucking mile.

He’d been so fucking good. So fucking perfect...

Leaving her be, allowing her friends, letting her prance about in her short school skirt without any comment, not even as much a curt whistle.

And this is how she chooses to repay him?!

Fucking with some fucking fucker right in front of him?

Right in his fucking face?

Fuck, he wanted to bash his brains out. Wanted to burn him from the inside out, watch his stupid blue eyes melt like runny rotten eggs.

He snapped the cafeteria chopsticks as easily as one would a toothpick in one hand. His eyes twitched while his nostrils flared, burning the wooden splinters in his white-knuckled fist as he watched them flirt.

Her in her thigh-high socks and tight white shirt, rubbing down against his slacks. Where he bet something was struggling to stay down. Stay hidden inside the fucker’s boxers.

But looking at his face and that bright, innocent smile shining as though he wasn't a disgusting man with ulterior motives, he could see why she chose the guy... instead of him.

.

He couldn't defend why he had him pushed into the wall behind the gym.

He could try and fool himself and the scared boy by saying he had responsibilities as her eldest friend. Alike a brother has responsibilities for his sister.

But that would be the dirtiest fucking lie.

Bakugou had no right, and he knew that, he really did. He felt it in his hands as they balled up the collar to the guy’s uniform. Had the poor sucker lifted off his feet with his bright baby-blue eyes freaking out when levelled by his own deadly red stare. 

It wasn't done due to something noble like responsibility.

It was done out of pure toxic white-hot raging jealousy.

“Bakugou, man, what the fuck-” The guy tried, but the hero-course student was like a bull that saw red. Seething as he snarled into the poor boy’s face.

“Stay the fuck away from her.”

His knuckles whitened in their death-grip. Steaming with heat. Singing the fabric it clutched.

The poor boy kicked against the wall. Trying his best to reach down to the ground with the tips of his toes.

“Calm down- the fuck you talking about?” He screeched. His voice an unstable choked pathetic thing as he cowered in panic by the heat simmering close to his neck and the maroon slits that had him pinned.

“Quirkless.” Bakugou answered curtly. “Keep your fucking paws to yourself, shit-stain.”

“Quirkless?”

Split-second confusion narrowed into reliazation at the remembrance of what little information she’d given him about what strange relationship transpired between her and the loud hero-course student. 

“You mean-” He started, but was once again pulled and slammed into the brick wall behind him. Knocking his head with a wince.

“Just stay away from her!” Bakugo barked again.

“Me?” The boy objected. Though, not really in any position to further anger the fire-wielder. “What about you? You’re the one she can't stand.”

Bakugo swallowed. Stopping.

“She said what?”

His grip loosened a pinch. Allowing the guy to drop down the wall to stand on his own. Though he still remained close.

His head hung slightly. Looking at his shoes. Put-out and thoroughly ticked off.

Dangerously so.

Nose flaring as he felt his eyes sting. Wanting to break something.

Preferably bones.

Meanwhile, blue eyes widened in realisation.

“Man... you... you like her, don't you?” He asked, or rather accused. His ears drawing back and hands rising in defence.

“Shut up.” Katsuki voice grumbled from a place the other kid couldn't see. Only the wild ash-blonde bush of hair that seemed to shake with either seething rage or a building sob.

He made the mistake of thinking it was the latter.

“You’re too late, dude... years too late.” He scoffed. Unsure if whether his disbelief outweighed outrage or amusement. 

“I said-”

Bakugo lifted his head again. This time seemingly radiating with heat as sickeningly overwhelming as the scent of burning sugar. 

“Shut the fuck up!”

Though with the threat of being charred into a crisp, the boy still hadn't the smarts to know when to quit.

“Should have thought about that before treating her like shit." He mocked. "She will never forgive you, Bakugou.” 

Katsuki’s vision went blank at that, and the poor bright-eyed boy couldn't see anything but prickly spots of white in an otherwise sea of black.

Having had his head banged against the wall for one final time as he slumped down in a pathetic sack at Katsuki’s feet. 

“Beating me up won't help your case.” He coughed. Groaning in pain.

A crisp chirp was heard and Bakugou snatched the phone that had slipped from the guy’s pocket.

Reading the label of a sweet nickname which made his stomach churn and head burn.

The text doing little to ease his building fuming boiling rage. 

“She invited you to her apartment, did she? Tch- To watch Netflix.”

He put his fat military boot to the guys throat. Keeping it there with building pressure. Squeezing the air from his windpipe. Grinding him into the coarse bricks. Disregarding the weak hands that clutched to the fabric of his pant-leg desperately. 

“If the little slut wants cock, she shouldn't be asking someone like you.” He sneered. Typing something back.

“Sick-fuck, leave her alo-” 

The sweat boiling against his palm simmered in heatwaves, melting the phone before he finally ignited. Bits of glass and metal flying everywhere. Nicking his skin. Before he dropped the thing to the ground.

Unrecognizable. 

A good reference to what the boy at the end of his foot would look like once Bakugou was through with him.

.

He could hear every little thump of his heart in his head.

Pumping in the tips of his fingers. Hot and numbing.

Tongue heavy in his throat as his jaw strained. Teeth grit in his mouth.

Fist clenching at his sides. Stained with crimson.

Eyes blood-shot as they focused on placing one foot in front of the other. Counting the steps while lifting his legs.

Boots sounding heavy and substantial in their echo as he climbed the stairs to where she waited ever so unknowingly.

Ever so excitedly. With a heart hammering quite similarly to how his was pounding. For much of the same reason.

Yet hers with an entirely different person in mind.

A person that was currently struggling to breath behind the gymnasium.

He bet she was getting ready with every virginal anxious thought running on replay in her head.

If she was sexy and sultry and smooth enough? Yet, not too much, because then she'd seem like a slut. But perfectly cute and shy and girly. Timid but lustful, precious yet wanton.

She was probably practicing batting her eyelashes and pouting and biting her lips. And how she would run her hands on his skin. How she would touch, when and what to touch. What to say, what not to say. How she was going to say it. What tone of voice. Like a whisper or a moan or a needy little whine.

Wondering if she smelled good. If he liked her perfume or if it was too pungent. Maybe he doesn't like her signature scent of fresh apples.

Pondering whether her hair was nice or not. If her skin was smooth enough. If her outfit was the right choice or if she should make a quick last second change.

She's probably hid her plushies. Taken down some childish anime posters she didn't want embarrassing her. Changed the sheets. Cleaned up the kitchen, cleared out the bathroom. Tidied up so he wouldn't know what a complete clutter-head she is.

She was probably getting all hot and bothered waiting for that blue-eyed shit-stain.

Rubbing her thighs together. Letting her hand dance down between them as she lost herself to the softness of the mattress. Letting the cool air nip at her fiery hot skin, kissing her blushed red cheeks. Eyes drifting to a close. Slight soft smile on her face. Legs spread on top of the sheets.

He bet she had lighted candles. Bet she had pre-picked a handful of movies. The soundtrack to what she would be losing her virginity to. Bet she had bought sweets, and cider, maybe even wine.

Bet she was planning to make the night perfect.

Too bad he was going to ruin it.

Just like he was going to ruin her.

Just like he had been ruining everything else for the past eighteen years of their life.

Just like he was going to continue ruining her until the day they die. 

He banged on the door. Or rather, tapped a playful tune he thought would be similar to something the guy he’d bashed into a pulp not even half an hour ago would do. Something similar to what the girl behind the door was waiting to hear.

He heard her pad across the floor. Quick gleeful feet hopping to the entrance to swing it open with a great big goofy smile on her face.

Only to stop dead in her tracks.

Bakugou was taller. Bigger compared to what lean frame she was expecting.

Her eyes levelling at his chest, where she was expecting to see a familiar friendly face. Familiar pretty blue eyes.

Gaze rising to find him towering at the threshold to her home instead.

His sharp eyes looking every drop worth of red. 

“Happy to see me?” 

He pushed himself inside. Her along with him. Ever so rightfully in his stride. Stomping, like the floor beneath belonged to him. Like everything belonged to him.

“What are you doing here, Bakugou?”

Her tone was the same it always was when she addressed him. Annoyed and ugly. Like he was just another jerk. Just another face. Just another problem. 

“I heard you were serving up your virginity...”

Her face grimaced. 

“So... I came to have first take.”

Only now did she notice the blood.

Though not dripping from his fists anymore. The thickest parts were still glossy in texture. Still fresh. Whereas all else had turned sticky. Coating him like a second skin.

Her face shed its disgusted features and drained. Paled, chilled and tightened.

Scrutinising eyes turning wide like skies. Little flecks of shimmer flickering like starlight within the glossy pools.

Her mouth parted and hung open to let a gasp out as she eyed the blood-splatter on his jacket. Gaze glitching as she struggled to take in the maroon colour of his fists.

“Whu- what did you do? What did you do to him?”

She shook. Hands raising to level with her chest. Forming some type of feeble shield as she stepped away from the menacing man.

Bakugo simply followed. His dominant footing naturally succeeding hers. The space between them shortening quickly.

“Worried about your lapdog?” He laughed.

Stalking forward. He trapped her further into the apartment. Watching her petrified moves clumsily try and keep the distance.

“Don't think about it too much.”

“Get out, Bakugou. I'll call the cops.” She tried sounding strong even as she whimpered.

That made him crack a smile. And by All Might did it feel like it was the first time in such a very long time that he could finally breathe again.

“Why so hostile?” He barked out with another laugh. A growl like thunder behind that wide sharpened grin. “We’re friends, aren't we?”

His red-eyes gleaming. Just like they did all throughout primary-school. Just like they do when he’s about to beat the shit out of someone. Just like how they do when he can taste that addictive bitingly sweet flavour of victory on his tongue. 

“Besides...”

He tilted his head to the side and looked at her like he was admiring something. 

“You’ll never make it to the phone in time.”

She should have run towards the bathroom instead.

Granted, that’s why he’d made the comment.

Make her think that the phone was of importance. Where it laid blank and black on her bed. The exact destination he wanted her.

It was of no use to her smashed against the wall.

Nor was she ever in reach of it anyway. Not with Bakugo and his blood-stained hands keeping her down.

“I've wanted you our entire fucking lives.” He seethed.

Strong dedicated hands curled around her wrists. Pressing her down into the mattress. 

“I’m the only one who deserves you!” He roared into her ear. His words hot on her cheek.

Her eyes scrunched closed. Her face tight as she felt the heavy weight of the brute on top of her. 

“And no one-”

His grip tightened as his voice turned so gruffly dark it made her heart stop.

“No one is going to take you away from me.” He growled. “Especially not some blue-eyed shit-eating waste.” 

Greediness got the best of him this time as he dived in to take a kiss. One hungry, open-mouthed, wanting, lustful, desperate, raw and wolfish kiss. Where in all her fuelled panicked adrenaline, driving purely on blind instinct, perhaps also due to Bakugo not being used to handling something so much smaller, she managed to angle her legs in a way that gave her permission to knee him right in the groin.

Second chances are only given once. But she was a smart girl and knew she wouldn't make it to the door in time. Knew that her best hope was to lock herself in.

And if being quirkless had taught her anything, it was to hope for a hero to come to her rescue.

That her only chance was to pray for her blue-eyed angel to come and save her.

The bathroom was the safest bet for now.

He had to laugh as he grabbed his aching ball-sack through the slacks of his uniform. Torn between being impressed and pissed off.

He'd only barely missed grabbing her ankle before she slipped through the door and pulled it to a close. The click of a lock sounding off soon after.

“I was never good enough for you.” He growled. The sound muffled into the floor where he lied.

His fist clenched as he banged the shoddy faux-wood paneling.

“All our lives! Didn't matter what I did... you were always gonna hate me.”

She fumbled around the bathroom in a shaky frenzy. Eyes spiralling. Trying to find anything sharp. Anything at all she could use as a weapon if the door proved too weak to withstand the force of Bakugou. 

“You were always gonna fear me.” He scoffed. "Weak and quirkless- heh... heck... it wouldn't even matter if I was quirkless too. You'd fear me either way."

Her heart beating like a galloping racehorse. Mind reeling in on the fact that he was taking his sweet time. Just like predators do when they’ve already caught their prey.

Playing with her.

“More than Deku ever did... But I guess I fucked with him differently from how I fucked with you.”

All she found was an old nail-filer. Not exactly sharp and not really at all that long. But her best and only option.

She knew it wouldn't do shit in the end though.

And then it was quiet again.

And she shook as she held onto her tiny weapon. Tears burning down her damp aching skin while every shuddering breath she dared supply her lungs with felt like it would cause her to combust as though she was made out up of thin glass.

And yet, in the chaos of fear, it was still so dreadfully painstakingly quiet. 

Until he decided to break the silence again.

“He’s bleeding out where no one’ll ever find him...” 

His voice wasn't haunting. It wasn't amused, but dead and had the ability to make her feel dead as well.

Blood freezing over. Heart eerily sinking like a block of led inside her. Skin crawling. Cold and raw and naked.

She shook. Looking back at the door. Admitting the flimsy wood was as much defence as paper to the hellhound on the other side.

Though, in the light of his taunt, her safety seemed miles away from her biggest worry.

“He’s dying, Quirkless.”

She knew then all she could do was watch.

Watch the tacky white paint-job flake on the planks.

Watch the door and wait for it to come splitting and splintering to oblivion. Like there was no door there at all. 

But it hardly mattered...

What happens to her hardly matters. 

Just like running to safety when Bakugo caught Deku and her in the school-halls wasn't ever what she did. No matter how much Deku would plead for her to run. She wouldn't.

She would do anything to switch places with him. Anything so he wouldn't be the one limping home with a cut on his cheek and a broken rib. 

“And it’s all your fault.”

She whimpered at that. Nail-filer held tightly in her hand, but only for a couple more seconds until it went clattering to the cold tiles by her feet. 

“You know how this works...” He said calmly. “You come out here... and I'll make sure he survives.”

She took a step closer to his voice. Knees numb and weak yet steady. Her hand reaching out to the doorknob. Blood prickling where it rushed about. 

“You unlock the door. Step out in your pretty little dress... and I’ll go fetch the wine.”

She swallowed. Burning fingertips touching down on the icy metal of the knob. Trembling as she drew in a shaky breath, and pulled the trigger. 

He heard the click of the lock opening and scoffed out a curt chuckle. Lips curling into a smile that showed off his teeth as he watched her small bare-foot step out.

Shiny leg following. Knees then after. The hem of her skirt that frilled loosely around her thighs. Up and up to the swell of her breasts and her chest. Her collarbones and neck.

And that pretty defeated little face. 

He sauntered over to the kitchen nook where he’d spotted the wine. Washing the blood from his hands first while thinking it weird and silly and slightly shameful that he’d imagined this so many times.

Her in a pretty dress. Thin summer fabric, easily torn. Silky and form-fitting. Leaving just her natural silhouette.

Drinking red in a dimly lit room. The taste still on her tongue when he kisses her.

“Drink.” He commanded. His hand shoving the open bottle to her lips. Tilting it up and spilling it over her chest.

She gasped but did nothing to stop him. Not so much as backing away even.

She just stood there and bowed her head as the maroon liquid, strong in scent, stained her skin. Seeping through her clothing. Spilling down the valley between her breasts.

Making her shift uncomfortably as the stream trailed down to drip between her thighs. Soaking her underwear.

And then she sniffled. Biting her bottom lip, with brows curled into such an adorable woeful look it made him want to lick the tears off her precious little face.

He lobbed the empty bottle into a cushioned armchair. Hand returning to raise her chin with his knuckles. Pushing down on her lip with his thumb, hooking it onto the bottom row of teeth, making her gape as she looked up at him.

He had the thought of spitting. But, found that he didn't really feel like it.

“You never dared put a word to it.” He stated instead.

His red eyes somehow seeming so cold, so lifeless. His lips a stern firm line. Features blank beside the tension in his jaw. 

“You’re afraid to acknowledge it.”

Thumbing her lip a second time as he licked his own. He brushed her hair behind her shoulders with his other hand. Knuckles gliding over the spaghetti-straps to her dress. Amusing the idea of how easy they’d be to rip loose.

Then acting on that very same thought. 

Torn fabric pooled around her ankles as she stood there bleating. Still not daring to move a single muscle. Not with his thumb still in her mouth and the wine spilled on her skin still dripping down her legs making her shiver on a coat of goosebumps.

He licked his lips again with his eyes drinking in the sight of her glowing dewy skin. Looking to her face and how the hot streams of tears ran down her cheeks as silently as she could muster.

Removing his hand from her mouth. He turned around with a scoff.

Walking off to her bedside table. He sighed as he begun removing his rings. The ones that made it easier to split skin open upon impact.

She guessed she should have seen it as a relief. But, she couldn't bring herself to it. 

“You'd never say anything, but you knew.” 

He threw his grey blazer to the floor. Un-cuffing his sleeves before rolling them up to his elbows. Arms flexing while unbuckling his belt. Ripping the leather out through the reims and dropping it to the floor with a sharp clatter. Tugging loose his red tie to free his collar so that he could pop open the first three buttons of his shirt.

Getting comfortable.

“Shit- you must’ve known.” 

He returned to where she still hadn't dared move a muscle. Her eyes only skittering around as he preformed his rituals.

The wine drying to a sticky thick sheen on her skin. Tinting her with pink. 

“You never cried either.” He stated.

Though, it wasn't true. 

“Deku would fucking wail like a kicked bitch, but you’d just stare at me... So much fucking hatred in your eyes...”

His hands dropped to his sides and her eyes anxiously trailed the thick veins running like lightning across his bulging muscles. 

“No tears. No rage. Just hate.”

A tiny whimper sprung form the confines of her tight chest as he fingered the thin silky material of the lacy racy red panty at her hip.

Knees shaking as she bowed her head some more.

Toes curling into their own comfort. Trying to escape the threat of being crushed beneath his big heavy combat boots. 

“But you cried.. when I touched you in ways I really shouldn't have.” 

One time, she'd dared fall asleep at her desk. So tired from a night spent crying because she couldn't get Bakugou to stop dunking Izuku’s head in the nasty toilet bowls of the school bathroom.

Only to be woken up by Katsuki’s thick warm sluggish tongue gliding up her sore cheek as she hugged the desk.

Finding the video in her inbox of someone jacking off right into her unsuspecting sleeping face. Knowing it was Katsuki but having not a single way to prove it. 

“When it was just the two of us and I said things and did things, touched things-” 

He’d sweet talk with her mother. Acting so trivial with his handsome charming smile that would easily have any of the girl’s panties dropping if only he’d use it more often. Were it not for him wasting it on manipulating and arranging it so that he would be the one driving her home after school when he turned sixteen.

Brand new car and everything. Meant to impress her.

Perhaps she would have let herself fall for it if he hadn't put his hand on her thigh. If he hadn't locked the doors and trapped her in there with him.

Maybe she would have thanked him for the ride home if he hadn't made her beg him to get off her. Only allowed to go after he’d marked up her pretty neck and twisted a nipple or two once or twice until they were left sore.

“Made you do things, say things, give me things.” 

He’d bargain with her often.

Give him her panties and he’ll leave Deku alone at lunch. Give him a minute in an empty class-room with just the two of them and he’ll leave them both alone for a grand total of a day. 

And to no ones surprise. Feed greed and greed will grow like a weed. 

Soon small exchanges turned to threats.

Telling her to stop hanging out with Deku or else he’ll beat the nerd within an inch of his life. Come to his house after classes or suffer the nastiest of rumors being spread about her all around school. Send him a pretty picture and he won't leak what other pretty pictures he’s taken when she wasn't looking.

“I thought you’d call me out on it...”

She felt the puffs of his breathing hit against the top of her head. Her eyes dead-set on watching the movement of his hands that now had taken ahold of her waist. His thumb messaging around the hipbone. Pulling her closer before he stepped to her side. His large palm laid flat on her belly. The other gripping her midriff as he stopped behind her. Hot air running down her neck and spine where his breathing turned rugged. 

“Went over battle-plans in my head-” He chuckled. “How I’d say you'd become just as fucking obsessed with me as Deku. How you shouldn't flatter yourself. How fucking desperate you must be to be falling in love with your own fucking bully.” 

He wasn't always bad.

In all their years. In all fucked-up relations. He’d never let anyone else ever pick on her.

Where after fights. Sometimes drunken and other times not. He would never fuss when she rinsed out his wounds and patched him up. Instead always giving his thanks in the form of leaving in peace.

Sometimes she wonders if that was the reason he started getting into fights in the first place...

To have her stitch him back up again.

But she’d always deemed the thought foolish. And if not that then... scary.

She stopped at one point. After the time he’d fucked Deku up so badly, she hadn't enough bandages for the both of them. Favoring the freckle-faced one and his second-degree burns above the ash-blonde and the minor gash he got when she pushed him away and he fell to the ground.

But... still...

He wasn't always bad.

In fact, be it a brief moment. Sometimes she would even forget he was bad at all.

Sometimes he’d crack a few jokes when driving her home. Cackle out a laugh that somehow seemed to warm her gut. His eyes gentle as he peeked over at her from the driver’s seat. One hand held lazily on the wheel. Sun glowing on his face. Making him look like a dandelion in its prime.

So soft and so childishly happy.

Until and unless, of course. He’d lock the doors with her inside, and refuse to take her home. Sometimes leaving her on the side of the road when she wouldn't repay him for his kindness.

He’d come back though...

Sometimes.

He wasn't always bad.

Which is what made it hurt so much more when he was.

Sometimes he’d be sweet. Leaving cupcakes outside her home for her on her birthday. Offering her his jacket or hoodie on cold days.

So sweet. He’d ask her about things.

How her day was. What she’ll be doing once she gets home.

And seem truly genuinely interested each time she’d offer him an answer.

He’d even be cute on some days too.

When she’d ask him in return.

He’d talk up storms of ambition miles out of her reach. Of his hopes and his dreams and pursuits.

And she’d almost believe that the reasoning behind his quirk was passion and not violence.

He wasn't all bad.

Even when he’d forced her into yet another study-date at his house. He’d still provide much better tutoring than anyone else ever managed.

Patient and determined. As though he truthfully cared. Even with his hand drawing greedy circles on the fat of her thigh. With his fingers tickling over the thin fabric of her undies as he made her sit on his lap. 

He wasn't only bad.

Because when she cried. When he’d make her cry. He’d always stroke the tears away with his thumb.

He would hush and coo at her. Tread loose locks of hair behind her ears and put her head against his chest.

Squeeze her until she felt like a human being again. Until her breaths would calm down to let her settle fully into his embrace.

He isn't evil.

But...

If he thinks she would or could ever...

Fall in love with him...

Then he must be...

Insane.

She placed a small hand over his knuckles once the grip he had on her waist become more like a pinch than a caress. Soundlessly asking him to loosen up.

But, only succeeding in making him even more rowdy.

Her small body was pulled harshly back into him. Her back pressed firmly against his stiff warm chest as he nuzzled his chin into the nook of her neck.

Letting his nose run along her jawline. Rub against her ear.

His thick arms coiling around her like an overbearing hug. One that had his heart thumping brutally against her spine when beating out of his ribcage.

And dick growing warm and heavy and pointy against her ass.

“You never said a thing though... you just looked at me, with so much... horror.”

She winced.

Her hands ever so gentle. Laying themselves on top of his arms.

Feeling like toothpicks against steel.

But she couldn't very well do nothing when he was squeezing her lungs free of air. 

“You fucking hated me.” 

It almost sounded like he was crying. Like he was sorry. Like he was pained and in regret.

His head rubbing against her shoulder. Trying to hold her even closer. Lifting her to her toes as he hunched over her small breakable frame.

And she thought she heard a sniffle before he spoke up again. 

“So, I’ve been thinking...”

His tone was steadier now. Hot against her ear.

And even hotter as he flicked her lobe with his tongue. Making her cringe out a fearful whimper. 

“You want me to be the bad guy?” 

Everything stilled. 

“Fuck it- I’ll be the bad guy.” 

At that she was thrown to the bed.

Weak knees carrying her staggeringly. Receiving the edge of the foot-end with her hands.

Though not left slumped against the mattress for long as strong hands once again imposed on her being.

Pulling at her by snatching the band of her underwear and yanking her up to be placed on the bed with no hope of scurrying away.

“Please-” She whimpered.

Her tiny hands gripping the bedsheets for support. Trying to soothe the ache of the wedgie her childhood bully was giving her a great nostalgia trip with. 

He smirked sadistically down at her before dropping her down with a bounce on the bed. Pulling her arm to flip her over on her back.

“Is that the only word you know?”

He quickly got on top of her. Fitting almost immediately between her thighs. Kneeling whilst looming above her half naked vulnerable self.

His hand placed at her throat. Keeping her down.

Whereas the other stroked tentative fingers down the smooth skin of her stomach. 

“I think you know my name too, don't you?”

“Please, Bakugo-”

Her hands clutched onto his arm. Legs kicking though having no target to hit where they were spread out on each side of his torso. Looking like a ladybug on its back.

“No-” He clicked his tongue while his hand closed in on the elastic band to her perfect red lace-panties.

Ones that seemed entirely picked out for him. 

“That’s not what you used to call me.”

“Katsuki-” She sobbed. Wiggling beneath his touch. Trying desperately to shake him off like he was some bug leaching off her blood. “Please stop.” 

“Wrong again.”

Her efforts where ignored by the ash-blonde looming above her.

His hand utterly unbothered by her squirming. Brushing warm digits over the fabric to her pretty lace bottoms. Feeling her warmth seep through the thin silk as his fingertips ran up and down, dipping slightly into the squishy sensitive flesh. Almost as though he was cuddling with her tender sex. Coaxing for a reaction.

“Kachan, please.” She whined and he closed his eyes for a brief second to enjoy the sound of the nickname.

Such potent nostalgia making his heart fuzz and stomach warm. Pool with something sticky and sweet.

An appreciative soft hum slipped from him. Pushing his otherwise stiff lips into a small smile.

“There we go.... Perfect. Just like the good ol’ days.” He mused. His hand still rubbing abrasively large fingers between the space of her thighs.

Thumbing at where he felt her little clit wake up. 

“Keep begging. You’re good at it.”

Her throat buzzed with warmth beneath the weight and simmering heat of the hand wrapped tightly around it. Successfully keeping her down and pushed into her pillow with no hope of shimming away from the other dangerous venturing hand.

She blinked away more tears. Felt them trail down into her hairline by her temple, itching on her scalp. Whimpering at the feel of his teeth nip on her collarbone, his warm tongue licking at the bittersweet dried wine, and the surprisingly pillowy lips kissing at her shoulder.

“You don't have to do this...” She attempted when the hand around her throat moved slightly to grip her cheeks instead. His fingers pushing into each their cavity of plush flesh, making her pout like a fish. Her lips pushed into a makeshift kiss.

To no surprise he chose to ignore whatever pitiful plea she’d wasted her breathe on. Too focused on drawing patterns into the heat between her legs. 

“Fuck- I’ve missed this face.” He moaned. His breath hitting her lips as she shook beneath him. “This fucking adorable crybaby face.”

He licked his lips again, and his shameless wanton eyes stared lustfully down at her own glossy ones. 

“You look so fucking pathetic.”

His mind couldn't help but stray as his heart clenched with fear for a split second. Getting lost to the unsavoury memory... Wondering if that was what he had looked like when the sludge-villain had him neck deep in despair. When he couldn't breathe. And how the whole experience had left him wanting for a type of comfort he in no way deserved.

Where in the self-loathing...

Being a villain had never seemed quite so inviting.

She didn't expect the kiss to be so soft.

She thought he was going to bite and chew and swallow.

But he brushed his lips quite smoothly against hers. Swiping his tongue over her bottom lip before pushing gently through to taste her.

With it she forgot to breathe. And in that darkness and stillness of having her lifelong fiend kiss her with the care no one she’d ever kissed had given her, she was left listening to what soft hums left the brutish male on top.

Wondering why he so suddenly sounded like he was nothing more but a boy kissing his crush for the first time.

And perhaps she would have forgotten who it was completely...

If only it weren't for the greedy hand that had finally decided to push aside the flimsy lace and push through the tender neatly-shaven lips of her drooling virginity.

“Aww-” His voice scraped mockingly. Gutturally low and sadistically gleeful. Hot on her lips. “Did you get yourself all nice and ready for me?”

She winced out a whimper as he pushed a thick muscly finger into her hole, playing with the tightness for a moment before filling her up with the entire length of his large long-reaching digit. 

“So wet-” He commented, much to her embarrassment.

Though in her defence she had been awaiting someone else in silly thrill for the past hours, preparing like a little girl before the first day of school. 

“All hot and bothered, waiting for me to come?”

She sobbed in disgust as he started pumping and messaging her aching needy arousal. Her thighs trembling at how much the sticky warmth in her gut seemed to hum in utter betrayal by the blissful pleasure. 

“You. Little. Fucking. Slut.” He whispered.

A haughty smile carved on his face as he watched the way her cheeks pooled with red and the shaky intake of breath on her lips, while feeling her tightness clench and pulsate on nothing more but one measly lonesome finger. 

“How does it feel? Huh?” He panted against her cheek as she still ever so foolishly tried squirming away. “How does it feel to cum on my fucking hand? Same hand that’s been pushing you around your entire fucking life?”

She tried winding her thighs shut, but every shift had him sinking his finger in deeper and hooking it cruelly into her tightness. 

“I bet you like it. No, I know you like it.”

He sunk a second one in and she cried out a wince, biting her lip to try and suppress the terrible treacherous moan that wanted to bloom from her throat as her pussy clenched, sucking happily on the new digit taking up the taunt space inside her. 

“I can feel it plain and simple. Your slutty cunt clenching my fingers like your fucking life depends on it.” He snickered, knowing exactly what he was doing as he slid and slotted the two thick digits in and out while having his thumb pressing evilly into her clit, making her back want to arch off the bed as he kissed at her jaw, whispering his cruel words. “Fuck... I can even hear it.” 

She wanted nothing more but to twist away, thinking things wouldn't be half as bad if she didn't have his lips on her cheek and his words tickling her ear and his eyes watching her every move as he made her cum on his hand with that sick twisted smirk on his face.

All she could do was count her blessing that he didn't have the ability to read her mind, because then he’d also know of how the growl in his throat still somehow managed to make the adder in her gut coil and purr with pleasure and how it made her cry in disgust of herself.

But then she was there.

Lips parted to gasp out the last moan yet caught by his and locked in yet another soul-sucking kiss that she now had not the strength or the mind to fight because all she could do was think of the fluttering rippling from the little pressure point found beneath his coarse thumb, and how with every little flick it sent blitz shooting through her core, zipping along her thighs, making her back lurch off the bed and into his chest, where his heart was panicking like a fucking madman with a hammer on an anvil.

His stomach warming at the sight of her all silken and soft and coming undone on his brutish hand, with her lips caught between his teeth as he kissed her like he was pouring his soul down her throat. 

Until she woke up, after only a few passing seconds, a fleeting moment of bliss.

“You- you’re a fuck-king monster.” 

Pained bleary oceans looked up into scarlet bloodbaths, yet couldn't see the amount of awe found in them, or saw it only to feel a deep shudder of disgust on the account of it.

The hand around her throat, kept there like a noose or a collar, didn't take kindly to her words.

Far from happy at how she chose to rob him of his satisfaction a moment too soon.

And if there’s one thing people know about Bakugo, it’s how if one indecent desire isn't satiated, he’ll gladly indulge another.

The strong trained hand made to squeeze frail fragile pipes.

His lips turned grim and stiff. Bloodthirsty eyes beholding what he’d always wanted to call his. Spiteful and desperate to make his wishes come true by any means necessary.

“This is how easy it would be, Quirkless.” He commented while listening to her choking.

Scarlet eyes watched, seemingly indifferent to the sight of her hopelessly trying to gasp for the air his hand wouldn't allow passage through to her burning lungs. 

“It’d only take a minute and you’d be gone forever.” 

He squeezed tighter and listened to her squeak.

Her little useless hands loosening their hold on his larger paw. Giving out, before his fist detached and she sprung back to life.

Coughing and gulping for air. Her hand soothing her throat as she tried curling up into herself, though not allowed to go anywhere but where Bakugo wanted her. His hands finding new purpose in holding her by the hips.

He pulled her naked body closer to his, which had her tender slick-soaked mess brush against the rough fabric to his pants, and her sensitive nipples, perky from the cool air, rub on his cotton-shirt. 

“If I were you, I’d try figuring out ways to stay alive.” 

Her lips quivered. Brows furrowed as she looked at him, thinking she’d never seen him quite this stone-cold.

Feeling that little ounce of hope she still had left for the boy in her heart flicker with its last will. Snuffed out by how he dragged her off her back and made her sit on his lap.

His harsh fingers burying themselves in the dough of her hips while his erection laid like a large bump of scratchy material against her clit, making her cringe as she trembled with tears falling silently in thin streams down her cheeks. 

“Remember what you said to Deku when the shrimp tried fighting back?”

She closed her eyes and bowed her head. Feeling a hand leave her hip, and soon after the rip of a zipper being pulled. Her shoulders sinking as her breath shuddered. 

“He’s not worth it.”

She felt his thighs shift beneath her, but she didn't dare open her eyes.

All she could do was swallow and feel the cold air brush against her naked flesh as she heated up by the fact that Katsuki was pulling his dick out with the intention to sink it inside her.

“I slapped the old hag that day when she asked me what was wrong. Square across the face. She had burns for months.”

She whimpered when she felt his breath on her cheek, and recoiled back, though held firmly and painfully by the large hand on her hip. 

“You want me to slap you?” His voice was weirdly sweet whilst a knuckle went sliding against her cheek to pull the curtain of hair out of her face.

His lips soon pressing against her cheek as she choked on her own whimpering shallow breaths. 

“No, right?” He whispered and that’s when she felt it.

Plush like velvet, squishy and warm, burning, thick and rounded, bobbing against her clit, being pushed to slide through her folds, make her squirm on top of him. 

“So be a good slut and ride my fucking dick.”

He added pressure to the small of her back.

The slight inclination of heat and sweat in his palm telling her to move closer until she was hovering above something else that was radiating heat between her thighs.

Brushing up against her opening.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she felt it push, and she opened her eyes to look at him with the most pleadful expression she could muster.

Her lips trembling to their complete own accord, and brows joining the same dance of tremor.

“Kachan-”

But there was nothing staring back at her.

Nothing she could call human.

Not kindness nor mercy.

Not even pity.

“Come on, Quirkless. Show me what you were gonna do with that blue-eyed fuck.”

He didn't make a single move, as though he was waiting for her to do it for him. 

“Don't be shy. Come on, slut.”

His fingers dug into her hips and she knew, by the burning cold in his eyes, he was dead-set on making her feel every lick of his hatred. 

And it was hatred.

She couldn't allow it to be anything else.

She couldn't bare the thought of it being anything remotely similar to love as she lowered her hips slowly for him to fill her up inch by thick inch, sliding inside her wet virgin walls, all the way to the hilt, until his bulging head kissed sweetly into her screaming cervix.

It couldn't be love.

She didn't get a second to think before his hand once again grabbed ahold of her face.

His sandpaper fingers mushing her soft cheeks, making her stare into his bleeding-red look with those moon-wide tear-soaked horrified pretty eyes.

“Is this what it takes for you to notice me?” He puffed. “Huh? Can’t fucking focus without me threatening your life?”

She still flinched at the sharpness of his words. Feeling cold and tense and so very dreadfully alone, even with him twitching inside her. 

“Am I only worth it when I got my cock balls-deep inside you?”  

She closed her eyes but it was a mistake.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, fucking bitch!” He barked. Spit flying into her squished face a mere half-inch away from his teeth. “You want me to fuck you like one? Bend you over, make you take it from behind, on your knees with your face down, like a good for nothing cum-dump whore?!”

His other hand pulled her even closer, made her tits hug against his chest where he still hadn't bothered removing his shirt. Buttons sharp and abrasive against her flesh as she shook at the feel of his cock warming and stretching her out. Weirded-out with how it sat lodged so well inside the comfort of her pussy, and how she was unwillingly clamping down around the girth of him, sucking on him gratefully, happily and passionately like how they used to huddle for warmth at nap-time on playdates.

He kissed her again. His forehead pushing achingly into hers. Noses hugging. Lips strutting forward and pressing into hers like letting go meant dying, where even his breath shuddered as she could swear his eyes seemed a bit more glossy then than before. Though it could easily have been brushed off as just a trick of the light in the dimly lit bleakness of her apartment in the night.

"Do you-" He whispered in a voice like from a complete different person. “Remember our first kiss?”

It had been back when they were only four and having only the slightest clue what kisses even were, but she could never forget it. 

“You told me I sucked.” He added.

“I- I told you not to use so much teeth.” She whimpered. Voice weak and blubbering like it had been back in kindergarten. Soft and sweet and shy and only barely above a whisper.

“Guess I never learn...” 

He didn't pull away. Their foreheads still seemingly glued together. Noses bumping. Breaths cohesive. 

“You haven’t changed much since then either.”

That broke her heart. 

His hands tightened against her flesh.

“Now ride. Or next time I fuck you, blue-eyes rotting head will be watching us.”

TIP-JAR

As You Command Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Pairing: Dragon king! Bakugou x Fem Reader

Summary: Since you were children, Prince Bakugou has taken a special interest in making your life as hellish as possible. As his future advisor, it's your job to grin and bear it, no matter how much you wish you could teach him a lesson. When the chance for you to leave the kingdom presents itself and the Prince stops it, you're sure it's just another one of his poorly planned pranks that will end badly for the both of you. But could there be more to his actions than you realize?

Genre: childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, romance

Series Warnings: (I will add specific warnings to each chapter) this series will contain smut, cursing, violence, kidnapping, character death, drinking, and may mention dark themes (non-con/dub-con)

Based off this blurb

Schedule:

Chapter 1: February 1st

Chapter 2: February 7th

I'm so embarrassed but here it is! 😭 so there's y/n who is addicted to coffee flavored candies but doesn't like drinking coffee. which five finds very confusing. She's always offering five candy but ofc, five answers grumpily like "it's not the same thing as coffee"— and suddenly goes to a part where they kiss (idk how it leads to this omg) and five is absolutely ENAMORED with her lips bcs of all the coffee candy she eats..

is this too much explaining or what.. ANYWAYS THANK YOU FOR THIS I LOVE U LOTS <3

this… this is THE request. thank you for this 🙇‍♀️

Sweet Flavor | F. Hargreeves

pairing: five hargreeves x fem!reader

wc; 637

warnings: might make you blush lololol

synopsis: five refuses to try your favorite candy, so you make him

a/n: feeding yall today 🙄 you’re welcome! half way through s3 💪 also aged up five ofc!

requests: CLOSED

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt list 

—

Five sighs, leaning on the table as you take a seat next to him.

“Really embracing the old man, huh?” You said, referring to his unusual outfit. Instead of the academy uniform, he’d opted for a vest, flannel, and fedora combination. You honestly wondered where he found it.

Five hums. “Yes, I am. It’s called retirement.”

You just laugh at him, unwrapping one of your Werther's caramel coffee candies. Five wrinkles his nose in disgust as you hand one towards him. “Want one?”

“I’d rather save the world again. Naked,” He sassily replied.

“I wouldn’t say that if I were you,” You tease, popping the candy into your mouth and sighing at this sweet-bitter flavor.

“Why don’t you just drink regular coffee?” He asked. “Like a sane person?”

“Because coffee is nasty,” You said, sticking your tongue out at him and displaying the small candy. “These are better.”

“They’re not even close to the same thing,” He grumbled.

You raise a brow at him. “And how would you know? You’ve never had one.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he dismisses, getting up and inspecting the hotel buffet. You follow after him, popping another candy in your mouth.

“So, what are you thinking of doing since you’re retired?”

Five grabs a cup and fills it with coffee. “I don’t know. Traveling? Isn’t that what people do nowadays?”

You scoff, “Yeah, people who don’t look barely eighteen.”

He swats at you, returning to your seats. “I’ll drive.”

He pours some syrup over his pancakes, and you pout. “If you like that much syrup, you’d love the candies just as much.”

“Coffee is supposed to taste bitter, not filled with artificial flavoring.”

“You don’t know till you try.”

“I do know, and I’m telling you now, that is shit,” He points at your mouth with his knife.

You frown, suckling on the candy and its sweet flavor. You were lucky to have found them back in 1963, and now you just kept a handful in your pocket at all times.

“You didn’t like me at first, and now…”

“That’s completely different,” He defends.

You laugh. “Really? Cause you’re a bitter old man, and I’m the sweetest person ever.”

“You are far from the sweetest person ever.”

“That’s not the point, Five,” You huff.

He smiles at you. “Isn’t it, darling?”

“Just try one,” You urged, tossing the wrapped candy at his face. “Please.”

"Try a cup of coffee, and I’ll consider it.”

“I have tried a cup of coffee.”

“When?”

You roll your eyes. “Prior to when we met.”

“Then, I tried your coffee-flavored candy… prior to when we met.”

You glare at Five, and he just smirks, taking a bite of his pancakes.

“Please,” You beg.

“No.”

“But—”

“No.”

“They’re—”

“No.”

“Five.”

“No.”

You click your tongue, still rolling the candy in your mouth when a thought occurs to you. Five notices the mischievous look on your face, and his eyebrows furrow together.

“(Y/N)—”

He’s cut off when you grab the back of his neck and smash your lips together. His hands fly to cup your cheeks as the taste of the candy invades his mouth. And holy shit, he loves it. His lips press harder against yours, almost making you fall off the seat as he chases the flavor.

And then, before you know it, he slips his tongue in and relishes the sweet flavor. His tongue explores every inch of your mouth, trying to seek the sugary treat he so desires. You let out a quiet whine, brain fuzzy at the action. Five groans as you tug on his hair, tongue invading your mouth, and then he pulls back.

You’re stunned, blinking as your lips smack together. And then you notice something missing and gasp.

Five grins, sticking his tongue to display your coffee-flavored caramel proudly on his tongue.

“You little—”

— END —

🏷 five taglist: @clearbasementvoid @halfumbrella @esmedith