.ËłâşâË ę°ŕ° call me venus ŕťęą ËââşËł
âËâš early twenties. she/her.
âËâš username was @/vierisqe
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@arcvenes
.ËłâşâË ę°ŕ° call me venus ŕťęą ËââşËł
âËâš early twenties. she/her.
âËâš username was @/vierisqe
not a spoiler free blog. 18+ only.

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"c'mere."
katsuki was so... normal all evening. so subdued. dinner with your friends was nice in a familiar, comfortably unremarkable way. everyone who gathered around the table at the restaurant had chatted happily, getting each other up to date on any developments in their personal or professional lives. jokes were made about the high school days, and failed romantic endeavours (mainly denki's), and tenya's new haircut that he doesn't quite like.
then the bills were paid, and rides were arranged, and katsuki walked you to the car with a hand on the small of your back.
it was normal. everyone was normal.
but now katsuki's like this.
he has you pinned up against the wall just inside the barely-closed door of your shared apartment before you can even take off your shoes. his mouth is hot on yours, licking messily into your mouth in a way that makes you dizzy.
"katsuki, waitâoh!" your head thumps back against the wall behind you as your boyfriend hitches one of your legs up around his waist and grinds the defined musculature of his upper thigh between yours.
"done waiting," he grunts out quietly against your parted lips, pressing your bodies even closer together.
this isn't like him; the freneticism, the almost stifling haste with which katsuki is trying to devour you. he's usually more reserved than this. more trepidatious. katsuki has always treated you like you were precious. too precious, you sometimes think. like an antique sake set made of porcelain so fine that it could shatter in a too-tight gripâlike something he couldn't afford to break.
"what's gotten into you?" you ask as katsuki's mouth trails white-hot down your throat towards your collarbone, the kisses he presses against your skin searing as he moves on to the next.
his only answer is to slip his hands up underneath the skirt of your dress, hooking his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties and tugging them down your thighs.
"katsuki!" you gasp in surprise as the cool air kisses the slickness of your newly-exposed skin.
the pad of katsuki's thumb brushes your clit, and your knees nearly buckle.
"katsuki, stop."
it's quiet after you push him away from you, the air heavy as you laboriously draw it into your aching lungs.
katsuki stands at arm's length, frozen in surprise. in spite of his strengthâoverpowering you in every possible physical wayâhe hadn't resisted you in the slightest when you instinctively pushed against him. if anything, he'd willingly taken the step back to give you the distance you need.
he looks at you though his lashes, his chin tucked down towards his chest, half-hurt and half-guilty.
"sorry," he says quietly, mumbled through pursed lips as he shuffles another half step back.
your hand shoots out towards him, grabbing him by the lapel of his unzipped jacket.
"hey," you say, equally quiet but less sheepish than his own words. "don't do that."
katsuki lets you pull him back into your space as effortlessly as you'd pushed him away. you like it when he's close like this. like when that soft, sweet sort of smell that always clings to him envelops you too.
"i'm happy to let you take off whatever article of my clothes you want, i'd just like to take my shoes off first," you say to him, so close your lips are almost brushing. the tops of katsuki's cheeks are rosy, and his lashes are fluttering as he listens to your words. you smile a little. "if that's not too much to ask."
katsuki helps you out of your heels, and then clings to you all the way down the hallway into your bedroom where the two of you go toppling into bed. your boyfriend is normally militant about not letting 'outside clothes' into the sheets, but he says nothing about either of your outfits on the soft cotton as he pulls your body on top of his.
but nothing about katsuki is normal tonight. you've already figured that much out.
you just can't quite understand why.
"you're raring to go tonight," you say with a laugh as katsuki's hands slip up under your dress again, this time with you ensconced upon his lap. your panties are somewhere in the genkan, so this time there's no barrier between his touch and your skin.
"what's wrong with that?" katsuki bites back, but even in his snark he's still soft with you. deftly, his hands slip around to the back of your dress, sitting up so the two of you are chest to chest in bed, and tugs the zipper of the garment down. the material slips down your arms until the dress is left pooled around your waist, nothing but your bare skin left on display. it's hard to make out the colour of katsuki's eyes in the dark, but it's impossible to miss the desire in his gaze as it traces over your newly exposed chest. "what's so wrong about me wanting you?"
you pause for a moment as you consider his unexpectedly earnest words. "there's nothing wrong with it," you finally reply, reaching up and tracing your fingers through the blonde hair at his temple. "it's just a little weird."
"weird?" katsuki echoes, but his repetition sounds incredulous.
he uses a hand on the small of your backâjust like how he'd walked you to your car after dinner, but this time a bit more forcefulâto pull your body back against his. you brace your hands on his shoulders as you sit in his lap, staring down at him.
"i've been in love with you since we were fifteen," katsuki says. it's ardent. insistent, even. like he's desperate for you to understand. "i've wanted you since we were fifteen. there's nothin' weird about it."
you blink. a little dumbstruck. a little lovesick.
and suddenly you understand his behaviour a little more. it's all a bit clearer.
you dip down, pressing a featherlight kiss to katsuki's lips. then another; deeper and longer.
"you were feeling nostalgic, huh?" you murmur breathlessly against katsuki's mouth, cupping his face between your palms. his cheeks are burning hot underneath your touch. it makes butterflies lick in the pit of your stomach.
you'd caught katsuki's eyes on you a few times tonight at dinner, but really hadn't thought much of it. at one point you'd moved seats to chat with momo about her upcoming wedding (and to admire the ring on her finger) and more than once you'd met katsuki's gaze from the other end of the table where he was seated with the boys.
katuski kisses the back of his teeth, tilting his face away from you slightly.
"fuckin'... izuku said something earlier that just..." he seems to be struggling to find the words. you give him the time he needs. "said some sappy shit about growin' up. about how we all ended up happy."
you feel a twinge in your chest as katsuki mumbles the admission. he's struggling to meet your gaze, and instead leans his forehead against your chest.
"and i looked at you across the table, 'n i just... i kept thinkin' about being a fifteen year old brat staring at you across a classroom. kept thinkin' about how he'd never believe it if i could tell him how we ended up."
it's quiet for a moment as katsuki holds you. and you hold him. the hot, hot flush of his face against your bare skin.
"fifteen-year-old you probably would've tried to kick thirty-year-old you's ass."
katsuki laughs, a warm wash of breath breaking against your skin.
"yeah, probably." he nods, finally lifting his head. he stares up at you, his hands patting gently up and down your back. he smirks a little. "woulda popped a boner at the thought of seein' you like this, too."
"so the two of you have that in common, huh?" you tease him, wiggling your hips a little in his lap where proof of your accusation presses against you.
katsuki kisses you to hide the smile on his face, twisting both of your bodies to lay you down against the soft sheets of your shared bed that katsuki dutifully launders every sunday. he slips your dress down your hips to leave you bare, and tugs his own t-shirt off to join it on the bedroom floor soon after.
"katsuki?"
the man suckling a bruise into your throat groans a little at your quiet call of his name. "if you push me away again i'm gonâ"
"i love you too, y'know."
you feel him swallow hard, his face still tucked into the crook of your neck. his hands are trembling a littleâjust like the first time he touched you, a few years after graduation when your paths crossed again. you can feel his heart thundering in his chest.
your own beats just as loudly underneath it.
because fifteen year old katsuki wasn't the only one sneaking glances across the room. and katsuki isn't the only one who feels so grateful about how you two ended up happy together.
"...and then i was like 'hey IDIOT, as per my last emailâ"
"did'ja really call him an idiot?"
"well, no," you concede. "but I did point out that if he'd bothered to read the damn email I sent him a week ago, which i forwarded him again for emphasis, he wouldn't have missed the deadline he agreed to or asked me any of those stupid questions in the first place."
"you tell him, baby," osamu encourages you with a breathy laugh. you can hear the familiar clanking and clacking of the onigiri miya kitchen on his end of the phone call.
"i cc'd his boss too, for good measure," you go on to add, glancing at the clock in the corner of your desktop screen. it's late, meaning samu's probably doing prep for tomorrow at the restaurant now that it's all closed up for the night. you've still got your own work cut out for you too, before you'll be able to head home from the officeâthough the rest of your coworkers have long left for the day.
"serves him right," osamu remarks in agreement. "you home for the night?"
"no," you pout, clicking on another tab on your desktop to pull up one of the spreadsheets currently holding you hostage in the office. "i've gotta go in and fix all the mistakes he made and finish up the reports so that we can still get this project submitted before noon tomorrow."
"don't see why's he not the one workin' his ass off to get it in on time," osamu mutters, his tone affronted.
"because he's an idiot, remember?" you point out. osamu huffs, but there's mirth in the sound. "better to do it myself and know it's at least done right, rather than having my boss hand it back to me tomorrow like it was my fault and make me fix it over the weekend, anyway."
"poor little thing," osamu clicks his tongue. "did'ja eat yet?"
"oh! i was thinkingâwhen we go up to nagoya for tsumie's game this weekend, do you wanna see if kosaku wants to meet up? he's there for work, y'know."
"heyâ"
"him and his girlfriend split up just before he transferred there too, poor yuuto-kun," you babble on, idly filling in a couple more fields in the spreadsheet as you chat and trying to ignore the fact that all the background noise on osamu's side of the call has suddenly disappeared. "he could probably use a drink."
"babyâ"
"it's so sad. i met his girlfriend once at a class reunion, she was really nice. i thought for sure they were gonna get mâ"
osamu says your name firmly, cutting you offâand you know he means business because he drops his usual terms of endearment and invokes your government name instead. you cringe a little, knowing the jig is up. "what the hell did you eat today?"
"wellâ" you grimace when samu groans on the other end of the call. "it's not my fault! it's not!" you immediately rush to defend yourself.
"'s that so?" osamu asks flatly.
"i was supposed to have an 11 o'clock meeting off-site, and i was gonna get lunch on my way back to the office so I didn't bring anything. but then it got cancelled! with no warning! and then by the time lunch rolled around, this whole idiot email thing started kicking off and i just lost track of time because i was too busy being mad."
"grown ass woman can't even feed herself," osamu mutters under his breath. "what am i gonna do with you?"
you guffaw. "uh, excuse me? maybe i would've been able to eat breakfast if someone hadn't monopolized my time this morning by insisting i sit on hisâ"
on the other side of the office, a sudden noise makes you jump to your feet. you stand just in time to see the night cleaner wheeling in their cart of supplies. the two of you exchange polite bows of recognition before you go skittering off towards the staff kitchen with mortified heat flooding your face.
"... uh, hello?" you realize osamu has been talking to you this whole time, but you've been too flustered to hear him.
"sorry, sorry," you say, a little breathless. "the cleaner just came in and almost heard me describe in excruciating detail what you subjected me to this morning."
"subjected ya to?" osamu scoffs. "yer poor body must be breaking down the memory storin' part of yer brain fer fuel, 'cause from what i remember you were all too happy to climb on up there."
"maybe you're remembering it wrong," you sniff, pressing the button on the office coffee machine to brew another pot. it's not the meal you ought to be eating, but it will certainly help you get through the rest of the night.
"nah, my memory's top notch. i ate a very healthy breakfast, y'know."
"you're a pervert," you say quietly, stifling a laugh at his obviously lascivious remark under your palmâall too conscious of the cleaner only a few rooms away.
"yeah, yeah," osamu says dismissively, unbothered by your accusation. "anyway, i'll text ya when 'm out front of the office."
"huh?" you pause, the coffee machine gurgling away before you as the hot liquid begins to pool in the waiting pot. "you're coming here?"
"droppin' off somethin' to eat. can't let my baby starve, after all," osamu says, almost a little offended at your surprise. "even if she does call me a pervert."
you laugh a little to yourself, resting your forehead against the cabinet in the office kitchen. "thanks, samu."
you can hear the grin in your boyfriends voice. "yer welcome. i'll be there soon as i can."
"i owe you," you say breathily, your eyes fluttering closed. with the prospect of food on the way, you're suddenly all too conscious of how hungry you are. you wonder idly what he's bringing you from the shopâbut know that no matter what it is, you're certain you'll love it.
"oh, yeah?" samu laughs. "well, you can always make it up to me over breakfast."
Űśŕ§ praising sylus makes him go wild
you donât even know why you say it. youâre not the praising type. not really. you tease. you moan. you beg sometimes when he makes youâwhen heâs in one of those moods, all pushy and mean, telling you to use your manners, sweetheart, like he isnât already two fingers deep and spreading you open slow just to watch your eyes roll.
and sylus isnât the kind of guy who needs it either. heâs cold. not just at work. always. cold voice, cold hands, cold look over his shoulder like heâs already ten steps past you in his head. nobody phases him. nobody cracks him. nobody gets to touch him and see him at the same time.
but you do.
and he lets you.
and right nowâheâs letting you fuck him soft and slow, chest to chest, mouth to mouth, your hips rolling lazy on top of his while his handâs curled low around your ass, guiding you, controlling you even when youâre the one on top. thatâs how he likes it. how he needs it.
so maybe itâs that. maybe itâs the look on his face. maybe itâs the way his brows are twitching together, like heâs fighting something offâlike if he lets you go even a little harder heâs gonna say something stupid, something real.
youâre already gone. you feel too good. youâre too wet. youâre not thinking. so you say it. âyou feel so good, sylus.â just like that. soft. breathy. like you mean it. and the second you doâhe freezes.
not all the way, not like heâs pulling back. more like heâs startled. like you hit something he didnât know was there.
ââŚwhat?â
you blink down at him, rocking slow. âi said you feel goodââ
âdonât.â his voice is raw. strained. quiet like itâs been scraped thin.
you laugh a little, teasing. âwhat, iâm not allowed to praise you now?â
âno,â he mutters. âyouâre not.â
but heâs gripping you harder. his thighs are trembling. heâs looking at you like heâs pissed, but underneath itâunderneath that perfect, surgical composureâheâs wrecked.
and you know why. you know him. you know this man who never needs anything, who never lets anyone in, who fucks you like heâs punishing himself for liking itâand now you know what breaks him.
âbaby,â you whisper, soft as sin. âyouâre so deep. youâre so good to meâso fucking goodââ
his breath hitches. he shudders. his grip goes punishing and he grits through his teeth, âshut up,â but itâs not mean. itâs not real. itâs desperate.
so of course you donât. of course you ride him slow and stroke his face and kiss his jaw and say, âyou make me feel so good. youâre perfect. you always take care of me. nobody fucks me like you doââ
and thatâs what does it. that. right there. because suddenly heâs groaning into your mouth like heâs never cum before in his life, like youâre fucking wringing the soul out of him with every word, every grind, every good boy whispered between your kisses.
he bucks once. spills deep. and he goes completely still underneath you, eyes wide, lips parted, chest heaving while he shoots every last drop into you without warning, without even knowing itâs happening until itâs too late, until youâre clenching around him and stroking his hair and smiling down like you knew this would happen all along.
you kiss his cheek. he doesnât move.
âfuck,â he breathes. âyouâfuck. donât ever say that again.â
you laugh. and kiss him harder.
and say it again anyway.
Official Commisioned Art by Infold artist!
Rough translation for Xavier and Zayne MC says their names (their chinese names) "Shen Xinghuiââ (followed by moans "aah")"
Same with Zayne's "LĂ shen--" (followed by "aah")
For Rafayel's its something like:
"You humans...
Are you all like this,
leaving a "mark" on the things you like?" (Referring to love bites)
For Sylus its roughly like
"The shower here is not soundproof"
(If you're interested in more official art by infold, i posted other official arts on my blog, their hidden because of it being mildly explicit)

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x : BETWEEN LOVE AND LIES :*+ďž
in which: you thought nagi was dating you for media reputation... so why does this relationship feel suspiciously real?
warnings: 11.9k words, pro-soccer player!nagi x physiotherapist!gn!reader, reader has hair, lots of food, not at all a realistic story but that's okay pls don't come for me, SLOOWWWWBURN, fake-dating au, reader is oblivious :<
a/n: goodness. if this flops i will cry bc i spent way too long this for it to be healthy for me. enjoy !
âł 5K EVENT MASTERLIST ŕźâ§â
nagi approaches you the day after his name goes viral.
you werenât doing anything spectacular, merely putting away all the kits and equipment youâd used for the day when the white-haired soccer player approaches you, his hands in his pockets, strolling over to you as he would on any occasion.Â
your heart races- as it does whenever heâs around, regardless of said occasion, but what tumbles out of his mouth next was worthy of ceasing your heart rate all together.
âwanna date?â
youâre speechless. malfunctioning as you register what heâs saying. the sheer casualness of it all is alarming and you have to snap yourself back into your physical environment before your mind loses to a universe of questions and doubts.
out of all people who have asked you to date, nagi was definitely the most unique. was he okay in the head? did he come for a check up? did he get one of rinâs kicks to the head? or was he just straight up delusional?
âuhh, why?â you ask, cursing yourself a little for how disgusted you sounded.
fortunately for you, your ungracious tone didnât phase him, not one bit. âisnât that what two people do when they like each other?â
yeah, romantically. you donât even think nagi likes you beyond simply platonic, whereas you have to try and shove your feelings for him down your throat every morning before walking in to the training grounds for blue lockâs official team.
you find yourself agreeing regardless, still a little overwhelmed by everything that was going on.Â
the soccer player then has the audacity to give you two thumbs up in approval, a dumb smile plastering on that expression of his. this confuses you even more.
âokay cool, so what should we do now that weâre a couple?â he asks.
you glance away, unable to look him in the eye for too long without getting flustered. the various weights and foam rollers still scattered on the floor catches your attention, reminding you of your previous task before nagi came to stir up a storm. âwell, i have to put these away amongst various things. you can sit on the couch if you want to pass time?â
âdo you need any help?â he questions, already bobbing down to be eye-level with you, ignoring the second half of your statement.
âno itâs fine, thank you though.â
âare you sure?â
âyeah! i donât want to bother you.â
âwell if you do this all by yourself, itâll take longer, and you take longer, it means i have to wait longer to spend time with you.â
when you turn around to say something, the words die on your throat when you realise just how close heâd come to you during the time you had your back towards him. a flash of hurt crosses his typically emotionless eyes when you instinctively recoil from him, his innocent stare dimishing just a little.Â
âyou know how much i hate waiting. itâs such a pain, so let me help out and youâll get done faster, right?â his hands are already reaching for some of the foam rollers before you can stop him. with an affectionate sigh, you take it from him, placing it back in its original spot.
âfine,â you say with a smile. âif you insist then would you mind putting the ice packs in the fridge? isagiâs ankle was messing up earlier and chigiri came in for his knee again.â
the white-haired hums before obeying, his footsteps that shuffled along the floor telling you know that he is carrying out his duties that youâve assigned for him. the way his tracksuit makes a noise every time he walks is distracting, but you canât help but think how much nagi reminds you of a penguin. the adorableness of it all might just kill you.
if only the internet and â#nagi seishiroâ tags knew just how much of a teddy bear that 6â3, legendary prodigy, nagi seishiro was, and how you had to massage him almost everyday after training sessions otherwise heâd come to practise the next day with the resolve of a five year old.
being a junior physiotherapist for the blue lock team, you only took care of a few blue lock athletes as your clients since the team was divided between you and a senior physio. nagi wasnât one of your assigned athletes, however when you first came to the job, he would come during almost closing times (when you had no one booked) and ask for a massage, even if he had his own physiotherapist to request that of. however, nagi seemed to always have some sore muscle because his demands for a massage became a daily recurrence.
you just hope whatever is wrong with him gets sorted out soon.Â
sure athletes are meant to work hard and use their bodies in the field but physio massages were to assist with injuries by minimising the risk of them, fixing the alignment, or help extend any limited range of movement.Â
whatever. nowâs not the time to think too hard about it because youâre about to go on a date with nagi seishiro.Â
after cleaning up your space so you could prepare to take care of more athletes tomorrow, nagi is sauntering over to you once more. this time, he drapes himself all over you, causing you to stumble a little from how heavy he is. you pray to whoeverâs listening that he canât feel or hear the way your heart races in your chest, threatening to climb up your throat and jump into his hands.Â
âtired, nagi?â you question, words muffled against his shoulder as you bring your hands to soothingly pat his back.Â
âyeah,â whines the white-haired. the smile that creeps onto your face is one full of adoration for the man slung over you. âlet me take you out.â
âwhere to?â
âa night market? itâll be fun.âÂ
âsure.âÂ
at your confirmation, he separates from you with an excited glimmer in his eyes,Â
after grabbing your bags and setting out, youâre violently flooded by dozens of paparazzi and interviewers who are click their cameras in hopes of catching blue lockâs soccer player who has taken the world by storm. itâs a little overwhelming, but when nagi covers you from the reporters with his arm which had his tracksuit jacket draped over it, youâre thankful for his thoughtfulness, especially when youâre relying on his grip around your waist to pull you in the right direction.
the crowd is shouting a flurry of things, nothing that you can make out amongst the mess of your mind, your heart, and your ears.
itâs not until you decipher someone shouting something about dating rumours with a japanese pop singer, that you piece together his intentions; a loud wakeup call to the reality of your âsituationâ with nagi.Â
the possibility that nagi was using this ârelationshipâ for media coverage and acknowledgement was very likely, especially with his recent growth in popularity and social media following- it would be understandable if he wanted to prolong his moment in the spotlight by entering beneficial relationships.Â
except typically, celebrities would do it with other celebrities.
so whatâs the appeal behind using you?Â
a funny feeling brews in your gut, one that clawed at your chest with a series of disappointment, anxiety, and dismay. it was unbelievable that someone as hot, both literally and figuratively, as nagi would be interested in you; a junior physiotherapist fresh out of university, but you had hoped. his abruptness today and the whole âwe should dateâ ordeal was to dispel the media from his back, not bred from any genuine feelings.
if this was the only chance you got to stand beside nagi and have him hold you like this, so protectively against him, then you were going to take it until fate deemed it over and pulled you away from him itself.
you were young and simply put, nagi could provide the companionship you were looking for.
fortunately, the press left him alone at the parking lot where security guards were standing, two in the booth and one purchased near the gate. you give them a shy greeting and they return it with a bow.
âsorry about that,â nagi mutters, not looking at you even when you turn your head to stare up at him. âi wasnât expecting paparazzi to be right outside, theyâre such a pain.â
âitâs okay, if anything i owe you a thank you for covering me from them,â you huff, stuffing your hands into your pockets, mind still a little frazzled over the memory of how protective nagi was over you. âstuff like this happens when youâre famous, mr soccer hotshot.â
he rubs his neck, looking to the side as his next words tumble out of his mouth: âdoes that impress you?â
âwhy wouldnât it?âÂ
you try not to think too hard about the blush that manifests on his face, pinning it on the colder weather and frostbite rather than your words.Â
âso⌠whereâs this night market? i didnât know tokyo had many night markets.â
âjust in shibuya.â
âwonât it be busy?â
âyeah,â he shrugs before adding as an afterthought: âdoes that bother you?â
âno not at all, i just thought you hated big crowds and busy places.â
ââs wonât be so bad with you there.â
for someone who prefers to keep quiet majority of the time, nagi sure does have a silver tongue. this is probably the third time in the past half an hour that heâs made your stomach flip, and you canât help but question his intentions. if he was trying to make you actually fall for him to make your relationship look more legitimate then heâd be disappointed to know that you already had, way before he approached you today.Â
he agrees to drive the way since one: it was easier and two: you could avoid the paparazzi that way.Â
upon arrival, youâre glad to see that there arenât too many people in the crowd. since it was a weekday, students would be participating in extra curriculars and businessmen would be only just finishing work. the majority of the people here were older with a few couples here and there.
âoh, they have lemon tea,â nagi mutters, grabbing your hand before unceremoniously dragging you to the stand. his excitement was endearing, especially when all 6â3 of him approaches the lemon tea stand, needing to bend down in order to be seen by the elderly stand owner. a flash of surprise crosses the makerâs face as he makes eye contact with the white-haired.
âtwo lemon teas please,â requests the soccer player, using his hands to gesture âtwoâ as he fishes out the appropriate amount of money.
âhey, youâre that soccer player, nagi! you scored an awesome goal the other day. mind if i get a picture?â the ownerâs gruff voice requests, a cheery smile making its way onto his face.
âoh. sure.â
you take the picture for them, counting down â3, 2, 1â as nagi gives the camera a peace sign and the owner has a wide, bright smile on his face; so bright that you couldnât help grinning as well. âiâm putting this on my store front. now you want two lemon teas?â
âcoming right up!âÂ
âdid you just buy me a lemon tea without asking?â you question, a smile appearing on your features as you glance up at your companion.
he meets your eyes, âyeah, âs there something wrong with that?âÂ
âno, not at all. i wouldnât mind some lemon tea right now. iâll pay you back.â
âdonât worry about that,â nagi cuts you off before you can even reach for your wallet. âeverythingâs on me.â
âbut-â
â-itâs on me.â
the stand owner is handing over two iced cups of lemon before you can continue bickering and nagi hands one over to you with a wordless expression and youâre compelled to take it, though reluctantly.
âare you two a couple?â the owner asks.
nagi nods, âyeah, we are.â
âah! no wonder. you two look amazing together, you bagged a real gem,â he says to nagi, pointing at you. you laugh it off, flattered.
âi know i did. thanks for the tea, sir.â
âthank you!â you call out to the owner before being dragged away by nagi again, careful not to spill your drink from how much vigour was in his steps. for his one stride, you had to take two.Â
after going from store to store and blindly following nagi who led the way with his stomach, youâre eventually brought to a less busy, picnic-like area where there were various benches for you to sit on. it was away from the busyness of the main street, but still had lanterns hung around the premise, combating the darkness of the early sunset during colder months.
you take a seat beside him whilst he sets down the variety of food he bought from the merchants, not trying to think too much about the way nagi presses himself closely against you.Â
âoh, one of my games had a character drop an hour ago,â he absentmindedly comments, opening his phone for the first time since being with you. you catch a glimpse of his dim phone screen, seeing the notification banner from the game he was referring to.
âthatâs cool,â you mutter, unsure of what else to say as you take a bite into the red bean taiyaki.
âyeah, heâs a cracked character. been wanting him forever.â
âare you gonna pull? i wanna see him.â
âreally?âÂ
when you give him the nod of affirmation, nagi opens the game whilst you continue eating, gentle anticipation hanging in the air as well as a comfortable silence. it doesnât take long before heâs purchasing special event tokens, going to the special character screen and pressing the âdraw x10â option. you peer over his shoulder, trying to resist the urge to rest your chin on it.
youâre snapped out of your reverie when nagi emits a small gasp. âno way.â Â
âwhat?â you ask, watching the way his screen lights up in gold which signalled a successful draw. he looks up at you, eyes wide and mouth partially parted. âdid you get him?â
âyeah, on the first go,â he says in wonder, a dazed look in his eyes. âthatâs never happened before.â
âno way! youâre so lucky!â
nagiâs face erupts into a small smile, and youâre caught off guard all of a sudden when his hands snake around your waist, pulling you up to sit on his lap. the new proximity and abruptness of it all causes your mind to stop for a second, shutting off as nagi peers up at you with stars in his eyes. you want to hide, but his grip around you is too tight, pulling you in to him.
this feels criminal.Â
ânah, i just think youâre my lucky charm.â
a quiet squeak of âis that so?â is all you can reply with before looking away, trying to distract your rampant thoughts, hoping that the cool breeze will calm the heat creeping up to your face. âso,â you begin, trying to recover yourself from embarrassment. âcan i see your characters? all of them?â
âall of them?â nagi repeats and you miss the small look of bliss on his expression.
âyeah.â
âi showed them to you the other week.â
âokay, well show me this new character then.â
âas you wish.âÂ
he talks you through the characters and their tutorials, showing you their special combos and ultimate moves, all whilst you have to feed him the variety of foods he bought whilst dragging you around like a dog and its owner. as he munches on the takoyaki, kebabs, and sweet potato, you realise just how bottomless nagiâs stomach was and the way he hums in satisfaction after each bite was very adorable.
the night fades into a nice memory of laughter, emptied food boxes, and easy conversation. somehow nagi has manoeuvred himself so that his head was now in your lap, snowy hair spread so invitingly as you resist the urge to run your hands through it, wanting to respect any boundaries of his.Â
every so often you have to remind yourself that this wasnât real.Â
reality hits you once more the following morning when you check social media just to see â#nagi seishiroâ trending all over again, all talking about the paparazzi photos that were taken yesterday. taking a glimpse for yourself, you hate the way your gut sinks, especially as articles with the title ânagi seishiro with a new lover?â shine in your face.
it only solidifies your speculations about this (fake?) relationship, and despite coming to accept it, growing resentment poisons your system, rendering you incapable and bitter as you let your breakfast grow cold.Â
at least nagi correctly covered you with his jacket, your face is completely obstructed, only your body is revealed. you thank your lucky stars that you decided to not wear your âblue lockâ staff clothes that morning and just opted for your own athletic wear, that way your identity could be hidden at least just a little.
a message from reo captures your attention and you click on it immediately.Â
reo: is that you with nagi?Â
you: yeah!Â
reo: about fucking time. got sick of you two never doing anything.Â
you: haha đthanks reo đ
reo: did he take you to the night market last night?
you: yeah! it was fun :)
reo: thatâs good, nagiâs been waiting forever.
reo: donât break his heartÂ
you scoff at the irony of reoâs last text, typing something noncommittal before throwing your phone else where.Â
ââ ââ ââ â ââ
the whole team practically knows about you and nagi when you return to work the following monday and the second you enter the building, youâre swarmed by the friendly faces of bachira, isagi, and chigiri, who are seemingly holding a tired nagi hostage. quite an amusing sight. three people, who are roughly a head shorter than the white-haired, restraining a lethargic 6â3 athlete with their bodies.Â
âare you really dating nagi?â isagi begins before you could even fit in a âhelloâ.
âuh⌠yeah?â you sound unsure; because you are. a fake relationship is still a relationship, itâs just that one party is more infatuated with the other.
âdamn. i didnât think it was real,â mutters chigiri. âare you sure? heâs not like⌠paying you to do this, right? you like like him?â
âyes?â you exclaim, a little overwhelmed. âiâm not getting any monetary returns even though i wish i did.â nagi narrows his eyes at you, you poke out your tongue. âplease, no more questions, itâs way too early for this.â
âyou donât know how long weâve been waiting for nagi to ask you out, y/n. even we placed money on him,â reveals isagi but before you could say anything in response, bachira cuts in, practically skipping up to the white-haired.
âfinally grew some balls and asked, good job bro!â bachira sings, patting nagi on the back with a violet slap before disappearing.
âsee you at practice, nagi!âÂ
the three athletes disappear and you finally exhale after holding in a breath for what felt like ages. what an animated way to start the day.
you hold your breath again when nagi approaches to stop in front of you, a singular coffee cup in his hand; one that he holds out to you.
âgood morning, nagi,â you greet.
âhey, i got you coffee.â instinctively, you take the cup from him, immediately warmed up by the heat emanating from it. âi hope itâs still warm. iâve been waiting for you for a while.â
âyou were waiting for me?âÂ
âyeah. wanted to see you before going to training. makes my day less of a bother.â
you smile into your cup, trying to hide the effect that nagi has on you. you were so stupid for him it was insane.
âiâm sorry for making you wait, the trains were a little delayed this morning,â you confess, âbut thank you. youâre very thoughtful, nagi.â
his face contorts into an ugly expression, a display of his feelings that are quickly quelled by the feeling of your cold hand grabbing his warm ones. âyou take public transport to work?â
âi donât want to pay for parking and everything. itâs not all bad, i get lovely views and a wake up call every morning.âÂ
the white-haired athlete makes a face of contemplation briefly. âlet me pick you up from now on.â
âno, itâs fine. i donât want to be more of a hassle. i know how much you hate waking up to even just come to work so-â
â-i want to.â
your heart flutters at his insistence and all you can mutter out is a feeble âokâ before slipping your hand out of his. you donât know if youâll ever be able to get used to the way nagi seishiro so effortlessly warms your insides; to the point that it becomes an unrecognisable pool of putty.Â
after a moment, you regain your senses. âyou should be going off to practise. donât make ego mad before the day even starts.â
he groans, âwonât you come and watch? iâll feel a little better if youâre there.â
âi have my own work to get to but i donât have many checkups today so if i can, i will.â
âi suppose thatâs good enough,â mutters nagi before pulling you in for a loose hug, arms wounding around your waist, breathing you in before stepping back, as if rejuvenated by your touch and presence alone.Â
âwork hard, nagi.â
you go your separate ways, him to the field and you to your office where various coworkers resided.
after a morning of answering emails, going to meetings and consulting the results from various body screenings, you finally have a chunk of time around 11:45 am to go and watch practice. as soon as you entered the training grounds, youâre a little stunned and impressed to see that they were all doing shooting drills, landing them perfectly with no effort, the harsh sound of shoe slapping against leather ringing throughout the area.
nagi notices you almost immediately, his eyes lighting up a little when you shoot him a small wave before wandering into the bleachers, taking a seat in a second row.Â
you continue watching, straightening up in your seat whenever itâs nagiâs turn, waiting to watch the genius at work. the results are no less than impressive every time but you have to pretend like you werenât at all marvelling at him whenever he turns around and looks at you expectantly.
15 minutes later, ego calls for an hour lunch break, allowing the players to break off to do whatever their heart desires. the first thing nagi does is walk over to where you sit in the stands, leaning over the first row of chairs to reach you.
âwhy hello there, soccer sensation,â you greet and he gives you a lazy smile.
âhi.â
âyou going to go for lunch?â
âyeah. have you had something to eat yet or do you wanna grab a bite together?â
âi brought cup noodles but i donât mind. donât you want to go with your friends?âÂ
âyouâre better.â
âplease shut up, thatâs so cringe,â you murmur with an undeniable grin, one that causes his gaze to soften as well. âletâs get lunch together then.â
âlet me get dressed,â the athlete says, about to run off when you abruptly stop him, causing him to turn around suddenly, his hair whipping around with his actions. âwhatâs up?â
beckoning him over, he returns to where he stood before and you take out a hair tie, one that you store in your pockets all the time just in case. âdoes your hair not bother you when you practise?â you silently ask for permission, hand merely hovering near his head until you realise that he was okay with the contact. âitâs getting all in your face, even i was annoyed when watching you.âÂ
gently, you run your hands through his hair and despite the sweat on his forehead, itâs still soft and fluffy. goodness you could play with it forever.
then, you gather nagiâs front bangs, bringing them together to resemble a unicorn horn, tying it with your hairband. when you part from your work, youâre pleasantly surprised that it holds but you suppress a giggle because of how ridiculous he looks, paired with that dazed look in his eyes, you never thought youâd see nagi like this.
when you reach to tug your hairband out of his hair, he waves you off, taking the updo out himself.
âcan i keep the hairband?â he pleads and you quirk an eyebrow.
âitâs just a hairband,â you say.
âso you wonât miss it right?â
âno, i wonât-â
â-okay, epic,â he mumbles before putting the hair tie around his wrist and a part of you swells with pride at the sight; a feeling that you try to shove down with little success. âcan i get changed now?â
âyes, go.â
whilst you watch the white-haired disappear from your vision, you canât help but wonder how you got yourself into this situation with such a weirdo. still, you adore said weirdo and this was no oneâs fault but your own.
nagi wears the hair tie for the remainder of the day.
ââ ââ ââ â ââ
roughly two months or so pass by and the days become a blur, especially since training is becoming more rigorous for the team due to the preparations for their spring soccer season. your schedule is piled day by day with athletes coming for their regular checkups and consultations, leaving you drained as soon as the work day is over.
nagi, your loving âpartnerâ notices this because he always likes to stick around after hours and bother you for a massage. he always insists that you do it because itâs like an immediate âfull healâ but you just think that heâs too lazy to book a professional masseuse and that youâre the next best thing.
whatever. at least heâs cute.
âi hardly see you nowadays,â he mutters, voice muffled by the leather bed of your workspace.Â
you gather a little more lotion on your hands, spreading it along his calves before pressing your thumbs into his muscles, trying to identify where any tight spots might be. âiâm sorry, i donât have much time nowadays. appointments with you guys go all the way til six, and i donât get home until 6:30. then iâm practically out like a light.â
he hums in torment and in consideration, tensing his shoulders a little as a natural response to the pain in his legs. âwell, tomorrowâs a saturday. can i take you out?â
âi donât know, some athletes may sporadically come and bother me to get a massage so iâll let you know if anything comes up.â
âbe serious.â
âi am free tomorrow.â
âsick. keep it that way.â
âeven if athletes bother me for a much-needed massage in order to perform at their best?â
he huffs something in response before flopping his face back down on the leather bed, the (seemingly invincible) knots in his calves taking too much of your attention for you to think too hard about tomorrowâs date with nagi.Â
heâs still wearing your hair tie around his wrist.Â
true to his word, nagi picks you up the next day at 3pm for your date since he insisted that was the earliest he would be ready by (meaning, itâs the earliest he can wake up). when you meet him, youâre a little stunned by the amount of disguises heâs wearing. sunglasses, beanie, and a face mask, youâre not sure whether heâs going to attract more attention or blend in.
also, when youâre 6â3 itâs hard to avoid eyes.
âhey, iâm supposed to meet someone called nagi, heâs got white hair, grey eyes, 190 cm, have you seen him?â you ask as soon as you approach the soccer player. he sighs through his mask when you erupt into a fit of laughter. âiâm just kidding.â
nagi brings down his mask to sit below his chin. âyour boyfriend is right here,â he corrects, voice demanding and authoritative, sending shivers down your spine.Â
âso he is,â you mumble, stepping closer to engulf him in a hug. he wraps his arms around you in return and you contentedly sigh when he pulls you into the comfortable, expensive material of his hoodie. âwhatâs with the disguise?â
âi donât want anyone to ruin our day out so iâm wearing this.â
âever so thoughtful arenât you?âÂ
when you take a step back, nagiâs careful to not let you stray too far which is indicated through the protective arm he keeps around your shoulders.Â
âshould we get going?â
âyeah.â
the white-haired laces your hands with his, his grip gentle yet committed to keeping you near him as you stroll down the warming streets of tokyo.
âitâs finally spring,â nagi comments offhandedly, causing you shift your gaze towards him. youâre surprised that he was initiating conversation, majority of the time it was you doing the rambling and him partaking in the listening. âthe cold weather was getting bothersome. hated going to practise all freezing, makes warmup so hard.â
âi like the cold weather,â you say. âitâs easier to dress for winter than it is for summer.â
âthat is true.â
âdo you like spring?â
âyeah, âs my favourite season.â
you didnât think someone like nagi would bother too much with having a favourite season. âwhyâs that?â
âitâs a good season for napping and staying inside. i like that i donât have to do much nor think about much.âÂ
such a nagi response. you admire how stubborn he sticks to his ideals and general philosophy, itâs a comforting quality and aspect to have.Â
âplus itâs your birthday season,â you add.Â
he looks at you with a gentle smile before repeating: âitâs my birthday season.â Â
nagi takes you to a park where the cherry blossoms are in full bloom, its petals decorating the scenery and ground, creating a dainty, lovely carpet of pink and beauty. however, the main attraction of the date isnât the scenery of the park but rather, the lake where several pedal boats float on the water; some occupied, some vacant.
the soccer player shows the attendant his purchased tickets, getting them scanned before youâre led to get on one of the boats.Â
âso⌠are you liking the date?â nagi asks when youâre out far enough from the dock so that no one can hear you. here, he takes off his mask, tucking it into his pocket.
âi am, iâve been wanting to ride one of these boats for a long time but iâve just never found the time,â you confess. âiâm glad that itâs with you. thanks, nagi.âÂ
he looks away, an obvious pink tint appearing on his cheeks as he rubs his neck in embarrassment. âitâs okay, i sâpose.â
âyouâre so cute,â you say whilst raising one hand to drag through his hair.
âstop,â he whines but not brushing you off or pulling away, instead, he leans into your touch.
a few minutes of silence pass by before nagi speaks up again, retreating back into his personal space as he fishes for something in his hoodie pocket. he pulls out a long velvet box, handing it over for you to take which you do with a little hesitation.
âi wanted to give you something to mark two months,â he tells you and you feel your heart drop.
âwait what? two months? i didnât know we were celebrating that!â (because you spend too much time fretting over the day heâd tell you that he wants to break up, not needing this fake relationship anymore.) âi didnât get you anything, i feel terrible now-â
â-itâs not a big deal, i just wanted to give you something.â
ânagi i canât accept this, this is too good-â
â-i insist.â
âbut i donât have anything for you-â
in the blink of an eye his hands are clasped tightly around yours, his face incredibly close to yours that youâre stupefied into silence. âi. insist.â
you stare at him for another three seconds before relenting, opening the velvet box with the utmost care in fear that you might drop it in the water; a horrifying thought.Â
a gasp of delight slips out of your mouth when you see an emerald necklace beaming brightly in your face. itâs in the shape of a pendant, encrusted around a halo plate with gold surrounding it, and from the looks of it, it couldnât have been cheap.
looking back up at him to express the disbelief you feel, youâre silenced by the gentle look in his eyes, one that shines with adoration and devotion.
âitâs beautiful,â you whisper, unable to talk much louder in fear that itâll cause the emerald to shatter in your hand. âyou shouldnât have.â
âi wanted to because i really like you. stop worrying.â
you exhale deeply, a little flustered and caught off guard by how candid he was. this feels suspiciously real.
âwhere did you learn to be so romantic?â you quiz, using humour to narrow how awkward you felt.Â
âshoujos,â he answers shamelessly.
âah.â makes sense as to why he makes you feel like youâre in one. âcan you help me put the necklace on?â
the white-haired shines with glee, features brightening for a second. ây-yeah, of course.â
âthank you.âÂ
when he grasps the jewellery in his hold you turn around to expose the back of your neck to him, practically holding your breath when you feel his warm fingers brush against your skin, his touch barely there yet still prominent enough to blaze trials of fire where he caresses.Â
âhow do i look?â you ask, turning back around.
âbeautiful,â he says, no louder than a whisper.
eventually the boat ride comes to an end and you return back to the dock. a lingering feeling of bliss and giddiness resonates in your chest, evident in the undeniable grin plastered on your face whilst you walk through the park; this time with a pretty gemstone adorning your neck.Â
ânagi, look!â you exclaim, gesturing over to a company-branded photo booth that had set itself up in the middle of the park. there were various people lining up for one and judging by the pleased squeals from groups of students, it would be a nice memory to keep for today. âshould we take one?â
âsure,â he shrugs, letting you drag him to hop in the queue which was going much faster than you anticipated.Â
when itâs your turn, thereâs hardly any time to discuss poses when the cameraman clicks the countdown button so unexpectedly. you reflexively hug nagi whilst smiling and he just gives a simple peace sign. he then stands behind you, wrapping his arms around you to place his head atop yours. finally, he bends down to kiss your cheek, rendering you completely mentally inable as you default a pose, not entirely too sure which one whilst you wait for the countdown and the camera flash.Â
âyou guys are so cute!â the photographer exclaims, handing your photobooth strips already. even then you hadnât regained your senses, relying on nagi to guide you with his hand on the small of your back.Â
glancing down at the photo strip, youâre stunned into speechlessness at the last photo. you can still remember the feeling of his lips on your cheek, specks of his warmth lingering on your skin whilst you continue trying to register what just happened.
you might explode or something.Â
âcute,â nagi mumbles whilst putting the photo strip into his wallet, pulling you in by the waist to stand closer to him, whispering in your ear. âi still have one place i want to take you.âÂ
âdo you?â you squeak, earning you a nod as he leads you through the park, coming to a stop when you enter a somewhat secluded section that had a sign labelled âprivate picnic roomsâ with various price ranges according to the number of people.
once again, he claims to have a reservation and youâre led by an attendant towards a specific area that had a table scattered with plates of snacks and various decorations. the vibe of the room was incredible with tatami mats, a floor to ceiling glass window that outlook the cherry blossoms, and if you tried hard enough, you could hear a stream running.Â
âyou⌠really outdid yourself,â you murmur, wandering over to one side of the table, expecting him to sit on the other. instead, he takes the spot right beside you.
youâre not too sure if this layout is how the establishment intended it to be but it is now.
âso you like it?âÂ
âi do. i love everything youâve done today, youâre too good for me.â
ânot true,â he grumbles, too quiet for you to address it further but loud enough for you to hear.
your relationship doesnât make any sense to you. why is nagi trying so hard to impress you when this relationship was just for beneficial gain? what does he get from booking a pedal boat ride, buying you a (clearly expensive) emerald necklace, then taking you to have a private picnic?Â
picking up a piece of halved mochi with the provided fork, you give the first bite to nagi who is more than happy to oblige, chewing on it with a satisfied expression.Â
heâs so cute, you could pinch him.
your eyes then flit over to the decorations on the table, reaching over to the branch of cherry blossoms in a vase before you could think, ripping off one of the sticks with the bloomed flower and putting it in nagiâs hair and behind his ears. his adorableness just tripled.
âaww you look really cute with pink!â
âya think so?âÂ
âyeah! youâre so pretty nagi,â you reach over to fiddle with the flower, not registering how close youâd gotten to him until you feel his breath fan across your face.
then you comprehend it, frozen in place for a second as you study nagiâs beauty from an angle you hadnât before. how his snowy hair fanned perfectly over his forehead, the way the light bounced in the reflection of his eyes, and the imperfections that littered across his skin all contributed towards making the pretty being that was nagi seishiro.Â
he leans in. you freak out, instinctively turning your head.
your breath gets caught in your throat when you feel nagiâs lips brush against the corners of your mouth, lingering there for a moment before parting and the look of hurt that flashes across his face hurts your soul.Â
did you do the right thing? you thought you did- you know nagi isnât into you the way you are into him. this relationship was made for media attraction, for him to gain more seconds of fame, so why does he keep acting like you two are real? why does he keep protecting your identity from the internet, why did he wear a disguise when meeting you when he would have wanted to boast that he was taken, why does he want to kiss you?
why does he look so hurt when he didnât?
this was all so confusing.
tension lingers in the air for the rest of the date. you try to compensate for it by being a little more affectionate, giving in to your desires of openly loving him for the day. nagiâs satisfied.
you donât notice how the cherry blossom fell from his ear.
ââ ââ ââ â ââ
you wonât find answers to your questions for a long time. in fact, the amount of questions you had quadrupled one night when you had spent the day at nagiâs apartment after work one day to watch a tv show that was on his âto-watchâ list.
âstay the night?â asks nagi, resting his head on your shoulder to give you his best puppy-dog eyes. you will yourself to not look at him by keeping your gaze firm on the television screen.Â
âoh this episode sounds good. maybe we can watch this then iâll get going,â you mutter whilst fiddling with the remote, dutifully ignoring his pleads and the way he tugs at you; something that does not resonate well with him.Â
âoi. donât ignore me.â
with a rough exhale, you finally turn towards him. âi canât.â
âwhy not? we donât have work tomorrow.âÂ
âi know but i just feel bad to bother you and take up your space.â
âyouâre not botherinâ me. thereâs so much space here, it feels empty without you.â
ânagi-â
â-wonât you call me seishiro? or something more romantic?â
the relationship shifts with his very words and you feel the genuine desperation that bleeds from nagi through his tone. when you look him in the eye, part of you shines with hope that maybe your relationship was real and not bred for media benefit.
in this moment of weakness, you let the top of your walls crumble.
âokay, seishiro.â
he beams. a smile so pure that you shatter like glass in his hands. âyay.â
you then find yourself underneath him as he lays his entire body weight over you, pressing you into the comfortable cushions of his couch as his hands delicately run up and down your waist. paralysed with confusion at the amount of love he pours into his touch, you keep forgetting that the higher you climb, the harder the inevitable fall will be.Â
âstay the night, please?â
how could you say no when he was asking so nicely? âokay, seishiro.â
âyay.â
ââ ââ ââ â ââ
âhey seishiro, are you ready?â you ask, fiddling with your rings as you round the corner of your living room where your oversized boyfriend is lounging across the couch whilst you got ready (boyfriend still feels weird to say even if he has zero problems with addressing himself by that title).
âyeah. letâs go-â he grumbles, cutting himself off when he glances over at you, eyes widening. â-whoa.â
heat rushes to your cheeks whilst nagi continues to shamelessly marvel at you, slowly standing up to cross the distance between you, his hands naturally hovering to hold your hips when heâs close enough. his gaze lingers even longer on the emerald necklace that sits between your collarbones. âlike what you see?â
he stays silent for a second, leaving you to anticipate his answer. âwe donât have to go to isagiâs,â he mumbles. âhow do we feel about staying in?âÂ
âdonât. your best friend is hosting this party, canât you at least show up for him?âÂ
the white-haired sulks. âbut you look so good. why should i celebrate that shortie instead of you?â
you push his face away, jokingly fed up with your boyfriendâs lazy attitude. âisagi is also my friend and i want to celebrate with him, just for an hour or two and then we can leave. deal?âÂ
âfine.â
twenty minutes later, you arrive at isagiâs place where a good amount of his closest friends had gathered, showing up far earlier than you and nagi did.Â
truthfully, you were looking forward to isagiâs party since he was not throwing a massive rave where everyone was invited- those always ended up to be more unfortunate than fun in your opinion, and that wouldnât exactly cater to his shy and sensible character. tonight was a gathering for his friends to hangout and celebrate. some you recognise from the team, some of them must be from high school or elsewhere.
bachiraâs cheery face is the first one you see upon arrival, his smile wide as he practically bounces off the walls in excitement and you already begin to wonder just how many desserts and sweets heâs had upon arrival.Â
âhey itâs the couple of the century!â he exclaims with a wink. nagi keens at bachiraâs compliment, all proud and boastful as his hand creeps up to hold your hip protectively. âlookinâ good as always!âÂ
âyo, whereâs isagi?â the white haired questions.
âaround, iâll take you to him câmon!âÂ
the two soccer players are off before you can even count to three, nagi and bachira disappearing into the crowd as the hyperactive boy drags your 190 cm of a boyfriend through the crowd. well, at least he took the gift you both bought with him, but now you feel a little alone and very awkward.
walking around the hallways of isagiâs, you feel a little out of place since most of them seemed to be high school friends. itâs not until you reached the kitchen that you sigh in relief, met with the familiar, friendly faces of chigiri and reo who see you first.
âhey!â the red-haired calls out, waving at you as you walk over to them. âitâs good to see you, y/n, how are you?â
âhey chigiri, hey reo, iâm good! i just arrived but this seems like a cool gathering. isagiâs really outdone himself,â you greet.
âyeah he did. good way to unwind before the soccer season gets too crazy,â reo chips in. ânice outfit by the way, you served!â
âoh shut up, you look amazing yourself. you too chigiri.âÂ
âso⌠whereâs nagi?â the purple-haired asks, checking his phone to see if he had received any texts from his best friend. âdidnât he come with you?â
âyeah but bachira dragged him to go talk to isagi as soon as i arrived. you know how he is.â
after a few more minutes of talking with the two, you finally pause the conversation out of concern about nagiâs whereabouts might be. you thought heâd come and find you after a while but guess youâll search for him first.Â
informing the pair first before breaking away, you wander into the rooms where bachira pulled nagi into, blindly hoping that theyâll be in there. to your chagrin, there were only a few unfamiliar faces spread along the couches, discussing something with a drink in their hand. you ignore the sight of otoya and one of isagiâs friends sitting too close for comfort.
when you walk into the next room, you stop in your tracks at the sight in front of you: nagi leaning against the wall with a stranger who clearly has no distinction of personal space, their hand resting on his chest. your heart plunges the bottom of your stomach as distraught settles within you because of the scene unfolding in front of you, chest churning with a distant ache that you canât put your finger on.
then he looks over at you.
the instinct to turn around and run overpowers any rational judgement, especially when a flurry of emotions begin to well up inside you, causing you to sink further and further in an ocean of doubt and fear.Â
you had no right to be jealous, not over nagi because youâre just his âpseudo-partnerâ, heâs not really yours and itâs moment like these that truly humble you into remembering. youâre just his âpseudo-partnerâ, youâre just his âpseudo-partnerâ, youâre just his-
â-where are you going?â comes an indifferent voice from behind you. all anxiety floods out of you like a broken dam. a warm, large hand tugs on your wrist and even if he had not spoke, youâd know from touch alone that it was nagi behind you. the multitude of times that heâs spent holding you, intertwining his hand with yours, and cherishing you has forced you to brand him into your memory.Â
you are his. even if it is not mutual, you would be his until he stomps the fire out.
âi-i thought i was interrupting something,â you stammer, looking into at nagiâs doe eyes.
âyou didnât. actually, you made it better by coming,â he says before wrapping his arms around your torso. âthat person wouldnât leave me alone, such a pain. tried to say i was taken too, so glad you came.â
you return the hug, trusting his words. âglad i came too.â
nagi pulls you out of the water.
âcan we leave yet? i donât wanna be here anymore.â
âjust a little longer. i havenât even seen isagi yet. plus, we should dance.â
he gives you a quick look up and down before nodding in agreement. you smack his shoulder.
you manage to locate isagi rather quickly. he was near the food bar where refreshments and various desserts and snacks laid so after greeting him, wishing him âhappy birthdayâ, and chatting with him for approximately five minutes before nagi started getting bitchy, youâre pulled into the dance floor by the white-haired. he said that they were playing a good song when you asked why he was being so impatient.
with a laugh, you give in.
nagi doesnât really know how to dance but you canât help but be a little entertained, deciding to end his awkwardness when you grab his hands and lead him through some moves, singing along to the song with each other. it ends with your arms around his neck and his around your waist (again) when a slower song plays.Â
hiding your face in his chest, you breathe in the subtle aroma of his cologne that you urged him to put on earlier. when he gently prompts you to look up at him with a hand gently pulling on your hair, your breath gets caught in your throat at the close proximity as nagi stares at your lips, glancing up to meet your eyes again before leaning in.
this time you donât feel as cruel, bracing yourself for the first sip of water after crossing the desert, for the final puzzle piece clicking into place, for the feeling of his lips slotting against yours; for the feeling of completion.Â
instantly you relax at the sensation, melting into his embrace as you hold onto him a little tighter, wanting more. you want to take as much of him as heâll allow and even then, youâll cherish every last part.
you want him the same way the ocean longs for the moon.
parting from him makes you feel empty. the lidded look he gives you is full of temptation and⌠love?
snapping out of your reverie, you step away from him, using his dazed state to create some distance between the two of you as you come to your senses. senses that scream at you for possibly ruining⌠this.Â
you hate that you keep running away from him, leaving him in the dust of the mess that are your feelings. itâs immature, irrational, and downright childish, really it is, but how else can you stop the way youâre about to burst at the seams? how can you stop yourself from devoting yourself fully to nagi seishiro if you donât forcefully screw the lid over your emotions?
for the second time tonight, the white-haired chases after you because there was never another option. he despises being away from you and despises it even more when itâs him youâre running away from, wanting nothing more than to be by your side at all times.
for the second time tonight, he grabs your wrist but now, he leads you through isagiâs house, weaving through a series of well-kept and simply decorated rooms to finally arrive at a balcony. one that was untouched by the party goers.
âwhy do you keep doing this?â he asks, pleading for an answer as desperation laces his voice and eyes. âwhy do you keep running away?â
youâre stunned. heâs hurt by your carelessness and the way you constantly recoil from him as if he was electric, his powerful figure slouching, all his quiet confidence and stubbornness seeping out of him, running to pool at your feet.Â
âam i doing something wrong? i thought you liked me.â
âi-iâm confused,â you stammer stupidly.Â
he grows even more perplexed. âyouâre confused? iâm even more confused! one second i think you like me then the next, youâre trying to avoid me. why do you keep doing this? i really really like you, y/n. but it doesnât feel like you like me at all sometimes.â
âno!â you blurt out. âitâs not like that! i do like you, a lot, in fact i might even⌠love you? itâs justâŚâ
as you try to recap the timeline of your relationship in the past few months, you find yourself at a loss for words as you truly realise the multitude of your stupidity. you might slap yourself in the face.
this entire time, nagi has liked you- genuinely liked you for who you are yet youâve been denying the love he has been trying to share with you since you internalised it all to be a sham. that someone like nagi seishiro couldnât want you in the same way you wanted him. youâve been hurting him this entire time and you donât know how to begin explaining why.
well⌠no other option than with one word at a time.
you go to grab both his hands, inhaling. âi didnât think we got together based on genuine feelings.â
he recoils, eyebrows and nose scrunching.Â
âi thought you were using me to- i donât know, trend on the internet by teasing everyone with some sort of secret relationship which sounds so stupid, i know, but i just couldnât believe that you would want me for me,â you ramble, only stopping to breathe. âthese few months have been amazing but i lowkey thought you were going to break up with me and say something like âsurprise! iâve never liked youâ before leaving me. i donât deserve someone like you and-âÂ
âwhat?â
you shut up.
âyou thought you donât deserve me? thatâs the biggest lie iâve ever heard. youâre perfect. i was the one that got lucky.â
âlucky? you? really?â
âyeah,â he breathes. âyouâre like a gift sent by fate.â
that renders you speechless for a little. thereâs more to say, you know there is because of the pregnant silence that lingers around the two of you for a little but maybe thatâs for another time.Â
are you dreaming? this feels surreal. maybe youâll start floating too.Â
âalso, why would i want to trend for any other reason but soccer?â
âi donât know! you asked me out really abruptly- iâve never been asked out like that before! talk about confusing. and the paparazzi was waiting for us after too like, what was i supposed to think!â
âi see.â
âyeah.â
more silence.
âso⌠you love me?â nagi asks and you groan, removing your hands from his to cover your face from embarrassment.Â
âi guess i do,â you grumble.
âhey, donât hide from me,â the white-haired says before grabbing your wrists to lower them from your face. âi love you too.â
âreally?â
âyeah.â
âthatâs cool.â
âit is.â
you do both of you a favour by kissing him fervently.Â
ââ ââ ââ â ââ
âsei, shouldnât you be getting ready for the match or whatever it is you athletes do?â you ask when nagiâs mop of white hair peaks up from behind the door to your physio office.
he steps out from behind the doorframe, crossing the distance to get to you. heâs sporting his blue lock tracksuit with his hands dug into his pocket and youâre a little envious of how comfortable he looks. âi was until i realised you werenât there. i was waiting for you to show up.â
âwell i donât really have to be there early. i just get there around 20 or so minutes earlier.â
âi see.â
âwhy, did you want me there or something?â you ask with a cheeky eyebrow raise, poking him in his sides causing him to recoil a little from your touch.
âwhy else would i walk all this way?â
âa stunning 50 metres- iâm so sorry for your perilous journey,â you comment, placing a kiss on his cheek before walking away from him to set up your box of medical supplies including kinesio tapes, bandages, and cold spray. he slumps down on the waiting couch near the entrance.
your role as blue lockâs official therapist meant that you had to be on standby for the team at all time during official matches. even though you arenât their nurse, you still bring first aid things like ice packs to minimise the amount of time spent travelling between offices, especially if that distance is not needed.Â
after scanning the box for the last time and mentally ticking your checklist of materials required to bring, you pat your leg in satisfaction before standing up. âi can go to the field now. thereâs probably tape changes that i need to do.â
nagi lazily grins, searching for your hand to help pull himself up. âyay.â
âyou need to be warming up while weâre at it.â
âaw. okay.â
the walk back to the field is painless enough with nagi holding onto your hand for dear life whilst carrying your box of supplies for you. for someone who is about to compete in less than an hour, he is surprisingly calm, hardly different from his passive, pacifistic self. should you be nervous on his behalf?
stepping in to the field, youâre overwhelmed by the enormousness of blue lockâs home stadium, the lights shining down on you so brightly that you need a moment to recollect yourself. to think that all these empty seats will be filled with various people scares you mindless; even vacant it was still overwhelming.
ây/n!â isagiâs voice breaks you out of your reverie and he jogs over to you with that friendly smile of his. âwhatâs up?â
âhey isagi, sei dragged me out of my office,â you grumble before turning around to the white-haired who places your supplies on the ground, instructing him to: âgo continue warming up.â
he grumbles something incoherent, leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead before running off, leaving you a little flustered as the dark-haired player waits patiently to talk to you.
âso whatâs up?â
âi just needed my ankle to be retaped, is that okay?â
âthat is my job so come over,â you say, beckoning isagi to one of the benches nearby where you decide to station yourself for the time being.Â
whilst youâre unrolling the adhesive, he awkwardly sits there with his shoe and sock off, exposing his joint where he already you tape it for him.Â
âdo you want pink or blue tape?â you ask, holding up the two options.
âpink.â
the background noises of athletes shouting and kicking soccer balls fill the silence whilst you cut up the length needed to tape isagiâs ankle.
âhow are you and nagi?â he asks.
âweâre good,â you respond, mentally reminding yourself to give isagi a present in exchange for his birthday being the sole reason why your relationship strengthened. âboth been busy cause of the season but itâs fine.âÂ
âthatâs okay, youâre making it work!â he reassures, âwell, nagi is really happy.â
âis he now?â you ask, looking intently at your hands as they worked around isagiâs ankle, hiding your giddy expression from the soccer player. the effect nagi has on you will never disappear.
âyeah! always talks about you to us.â
âdoes he?â
âof course, why wouldnât he? swears youâre the best thing to have happened to him in a long time or whatever.â
your heart warms uncontrollably. nagi seishiro was going to be your downfall.Â
finishing up on isagiâs ankle, he tests it out quickly before thanking you and running off again to blend in with his teammates again. âdonât work too hard!â you yell out after him.
after retaping chigiriâs knee, commanding karasu to do his recommended exercises, and other various checkups, the boys are ushered back into the stadium so the audience could begin filing in. before nagi went in, he runs over to you, bundling you in his arms despite the various exclaims of âhurry up!â yelled at your white-haired partner.
âgotta go,â he says breathily.
âwait, shouldnât you take this off?â you ask, gesturing to your hair tie which sat snugly at his wrist.Â
âdo i have to?â
âyou can always rewear it after the match sei, itâs not a big deal.âÂ
âfine. iâll see you soon then.â
you give him a smile of reassurance, hugging him back. âgo. iâll be watching, my superstar.â
his eyes shine. âcheer for me, wonât you?â
âof course i will. iâm your lucky charm,â you tease but he takes your statement quite literally, grinning at what you say which only illuminates the cheery look on his face.
âcan my lucky charm give me a kiss?â
cupping his face, you quickly place a peck on his nose before lightly pushing him away. you know the kiss is not good enough to satiate his hunger but perhaps thatâs just what you want from him, to try hard for a better reward. and in this case, by trying harder, he would bring home the trophy.
âgo line up!â you command.Â
nagi grumbles something before stepping away, âiâll score for you.âÂ
he dashes towards the stadium entrance, leaving you in a lovesick daze as you watch him retreat. someone clears their throat behind you and you remember where you are, sitting down to preserve some professionalism.Â
sitting in the medics corner was scary, especially as you watch every seat getting gradually filled with an onslaught of different people, but all you need to do for the 90 minutes is watch and be attentive to the game and the health of the players. an easy job for the amount of pay you get.
when the teams walks out into the field, everyone in the stands erupt into a roar, waving their various flags and colours. despite the chaos, nagi looks over at you and you blow him a kiss, unsure of whether or not he could actually see you.Â
as everything settles down, the match finally begins, starting off with a bang. from time to time you talk with the two other blue lock medics and spend the other moments admiring your boyfriend in his athletic glory.
itâs not until almost halftime that something disastrous happens. when itoshi rin collides face-first into another player, toppling over on the field on top of each other, the crowd erupts into a series of gasps and concerned noises. as the refereeâs whistle is called, you three official blue lock staff scramble to the middle of the field where a crowd was gathering around the two, trying to help their soccer players but stepping out of the way when you approach.
âwhere are you?â one medic begins asking.
âthe stadium. weâre in the middle of a match,â comes rinâs gruff tone.
âyou are?â
âitoshi rin.â
âhow many fingers am i holding up?â
âfour.â
âwhat hurts?â
âmy fucking face,â rin snarkily replies, trying to stand up but not making it past his knees as he stumbles a little, holding on to his nose. âshit.â
taking his hand away, there are droplets of red coating his skin and you snake yourself under his arm in order to assist with helping him to the medicâs area, another nurse doing the same. hopefully itâs not serious and he wonât need be to sent to hospital, only benched by ego. which, he was.Â
in your panic, you donât register any of the commotion happening within the players themselves whereas nagi, on the other hand, hears it all clearly. how a player on the team he was playing against says something like âlook at that cutie. reckon i could cuff âem?â where his friend replies with a âyeah dude. seems like a babe to be honest, workinâ as a nurse and shitâ, geturing to you.
nagi has never felt such an overwhelming urge to punch someone, to jump the two players and tear them apart with the fury he feels accumulating in his insides.
the whistle to notify that the game was continuing disrupts nagiâs train of thought. he goes back into position but not without snaring at the opposition.Â
blue lock seems to be doing fine without their number one player for the remainder of the game; in fact, nagi is practically dominating the whole field as he shoots, earning goals left and right for blue lock. heâs moving with unmatched determination; a blazing kind that youâve never seen from him despite having seen countless of his games. you wonder what happened to him since rin got injured, where did the calm, unbothered nagi go? why are you kind of scared of your boyfriend right now?
maybe your good luck kiss worked in giving him the boost you predicted.
however, you never could have predicted the huge turnaround that your life would take when nagiâs jealousy gets too ahead of itself. when his urge to show the world whose you are outspeaks his rationality, too caught up in the torments of untamed jealousy. heâs never felt this way before; a carnal desire so inherent that it makes him feel bare.
only you could do this to him.
and only you could fix the ugly monster inside him
when blue lock scores the goal needed to take the trophy home, the stadium is deafening, so loud that you need to cover your ears from the unrestrained passion of fans and watchers alike, the buzz of excitement unmatched.Â
nagi is awarded man of the match, taking home a shiny trophy in recognition of his athleticism and remarkable talents. yet the first thing he does when taking his prize is not rush over to his teammates and⌠do whatever it is that men do, but to run over to where you reside, a possessive and dark look in his eyes. it sends shivers down your spine.Â
he sweeps you into his arms, winding you so close that you can feel the body heat radiating from him, even through the fabric of his jersey. the trophy presses against your back.
âcan i kiss you?â nagi questions although it sounds more like a demand, especially with that breathy voice due to how much heâs been running around.
short circuiting for a moment, you reply: âbut everyoneâs watching.â
âlet them.â
youâre well aware of the multitude of cameras that may be pointed at you and nagi. if you act stupidly, it will appear on the internet and who knows what repercussions it might bring, are you ready to be thrown into a life of chaos, joining alongside your boyfriend?
the answer is obvious when you take the initiative of kissing him, allowing him to devour you whole: his first act of establishing just exactly who you were to the entire world.
you adore how scandalous this feels.
his second act comes mere minutes later at the exit where paparazzi and media were waiting patiently behind barriers for their star players. this time, instead of leaving alone or with his teammates, thereâs an unidentified figure accompanying him, hugged close to his side and proudly wearing his jersey. the very one that boasts âNAGIâ along the back. everything descends into chaos.Â
an immense feeling of deja vu encompasses you when you recall the day nagi asked you out and the overwhelming lineup of paparazzi and photographers that waited for him outside. itâs different now. you feel confident in your place beside nagi, looking perfect to him in his clothes- as if you were meant to be his.
nagi walks in front of you to use his stature to protect from the greedy eyes of the internet whilst you use your hands to cover your face as best as possible, all to ensure your privacy from those who are going to eat these photos up when they see them.Â
and- well, if everyone is going to see them then why not send a little message whilst nagiâs here?
the kiss nagi sneaks on your neck is entirely proprietorial, a clear sign of affection for the whole world to see as he eyes the cameras with a deadly look in his eyes.Â
âmine,â he mutters in your ear, sending one last glare over his shoulder before disappearing from their nosiness and intruding flashes.
the cameras can see your hair tie that slips up when his sleeves are tugged too short.
ââ ââ ââ â ââ
your notifications are rampant the next morning, mostly because of friends, and â#nagi seishiroâ has taken the internet by storm once again.
this feeling of anxiety settling in your stomach will never go away whenever you check social media to see if any of your information has been leaked and by whatever miracle, youâre absolutely relieved to see that nothing drastic has been revealed.
speaking of boyfriend, nagi stirs from where he lays beside you, stretching for a moment before patting the bed in search for your warmth.Â
shutting off your phone and putting it down, you watch him try to locate you, unable to stop the smile from stretching at the corner of your lips. heâs adorable. even more so when he has to open one eye because his instincts were failing him.
âoh. why are you awake?â he asks groggily, still adjusting to consciousness. nagi tries to sit up to rest on his elbows only to fail miserably and fall face-first into his lush pillow.
âbody clock,â you say. youâll talk about yesterday later. right now, it was just you and him and the soft glow of the sun saying good morning.
âturn it off and go back to sleep.â
âfine.â
âcâmere,â nagi beckons you over weakly, hands reaching for your figure but falling short due to the enormous size of his bed.
itâs not like nagi to splurge on things but it is like him to splurge on getting the most comfortable bed ever, so when he demands you to fall back asleep, how could you say no when it feels like napping on a cloud? and with your adorable boyfriend? some things in life come too easy.
shuffling back towards him, heâs quick to throw an arm and a leg around you, trapping you in.Â
âmy body hurts,â whines nagi. âso much.â
âwhat do you want me to do about that?â
âmassage later, please?âÂ
âis that all i am to you?â you question teasingly whilst rubbing hearts into his skin.
âmaybe,â he sings.
astounded, you give him your best look of betrayal. âweâre breaking up.â
âno, donât do that,â nagi pleads, hugging you closer as if you were going to get up from his vice grip in the first place. âdonât be mean.â
âoh sure because iâm the mean one,â you joke as he burrows his head into your neck. instinctively, your hands card through his hair, extra soft from washing it last night. after a moment of silence, you speak up. âyouâre trending again because of me so just remember that what i said about our fame-grabbing relationship was true.â
âi didnât mean for that to happen. iâm just too good,â he takes his head out of your neck, doe eyes looking up at you with heart wrenching awe. âand i love you too much to hide it.â
you pat his cheek, unable to stop a wide, dreamy smile from appearing on your face. âgo back to sleep.â
ââk. goodnight.â the second nagiâs head hits his pillow, heâs out like a light.Â
itâs a little surreal to be wrapped in his embrace like this, to be able to gaze at his features so closely and unabashedly whilst his arms extend to mould you into him. even being as close as humanly possible isnât enough for nagi who has an unlimited desire for more, at all times.Â
if itâs you he wants, then youâll happily grant it.
the last thing you see before falling into a deep slumber is a hair tie that lies on his bedside table.
Decora Himiko! đđđ
Seventeen then Twenty-seven
Pairing: former bestfriend!Keigo x reader
Having been sold off to the Hero Public Safety Commission from a young age, you've been told what to do your entire life. Luckily for you, you had your best friendâKeigo Takamiâby your side. But all of that changes after making the reckless decision to kiss him in your too-small bed.
Content Warnings: angst, smut and fluff, bestfriends to lovers to rivals to rivals with benefits to lovers, don't take the rivals part too serious, semi-public sex (on top of a high-rise, in front of a window and in a changing room), unprotected & protected p in v sex, creampies, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), implied loss of virginity on both sides, multiple orgasms, squirting, a fuckton of hurt, yearning, misunderstandings, fuck the HPSC and their parents, petty games, reader has a quirk, hurt/comfort, inaccurate timeline (Iknow iknow), pierced Keigo!!!
word count: 22.7k
A/n: I'm so happy I found my drafts of this fic that I made somewhere late last year. The first 1.5k were made last year and I finally decided to expand on it for the Hawks lovers. Art on the left by @/melwakame on x & art on the right by @/kadeart on x. Divider by @/cafekitsune
laying side by side on the way too small bed, especially accounting for the crimson wings that are bigger than the bed itself, you find yourself staring into those golden eyes, close enough that you can see the specks of amber in them.
One of the wings is draped over you, crimson feathers twitching every so often, as if whispering against your skin.
Keigo is retelling a story he overheard from one of the handlers. Giggles fill the room, quiet but genuine.
If either one of your handlers found you two, side by side, in the same room, socializing, you two would be dead. Figuratively (âŚyou hope).
They would call it an distraction, the two perfect weapons as they call you two, talking about life beyond the walls of the life they carved out for you. The prison that your parents sold you off to when you two were younger with sweet smiles and promises that only benefited those who failed you.
The walls hereâin this cramped room, bare, save for a bed and a dresserâseem brighter. Not literally, everywhere you look itâs the same industrial gray walls and even floors. No colors, not even floorboards, just concrete.
No personal touch, because that would mean you have something of your own, and they canât have that. No, your lives belong to them, those who pretend to guide heroes. No it seems brighter because of him.
You scoot a little closer to Keigo, not that there is any space left on the bed. In here its just Keigo and you not the names the Commission gave you, names that you didnât even choose yourself but were assigned to you two the moment you got sold off. All sense of self being stripped away.
Well they certainly tried to, but that didnât stop you and Keigo from becoming friends when younger, best friends even. Sneaking off together to have some time for yourselves.
At age 8 he gave you one of his small feathers, alive, twitching, and more importantly, able to pick up your heartbeat if you were to press it to your chest. So I know you're still with me he said with a toothy grin on his face.
It has been there, under your Hero Commission issued gear, for the past 9 years. Not the exact same feather obviously. They ârotateâ every few days, because his feathers die out if he detaches them for too long.
The room falls quiet, the weight of silence settling around you. It takes a heartbeat too long to realize that Keigo has stopped speaking. Looking up again you see him looking at you with concern written over his face, thumb brushing over your hipâwhen did it get there?
âYou okay there, dove? You spaced out for some time,â his voice softens when he says âdoveâ, like the nickname holds more than just teasing now. And your heart, the traitorous thing it is, beats a little faster at it.
He grins, small, boyish and a little shy. Of course he could feel that, the feather still pressed over the spot where your heart is, but he could probably also feel it with the way your chest is pressed up against his.
You hope he canât see your cheeks flush (he can, damn him and his good eyes even though itâs dark inside), and just nod once. âMm. âWas just thinking about the time you lost your tooth because you flew into a wall.â Liar, you were thinking if it would still be like this if the commission gave you two more time for yourselves.
Sometimes you wonder if what you feel is love, being in love with your best friend, what a classic trope. But then you push that thought aside, quickly, like it's dangerous. You canât afford to let yourself want that.
You two are seventeen years old, getting groomed to be the perfect weapons the commission wants you to be. You know if you were to fantasize about it, they would strip it away in the blink of an eye. No, you canât be in love with Keigo, for it would only end in heartbreak.
Within a second your world tilts. You're now laying on Keigoâs chest, him laying flat on his back, one of his wings dangling off the bed, the other draped over you. The wing twitches slightly, brushing against you as if itâs trying to reassure you, but it only makes your heart race a little faster. Both his arms wrapped around your waist.
âLiar,â he says with a grin on his, stupidly handsome, face. âCâmon dove, tell me. You can tell me anything, you know that right?â The sincerity on his face makes you move your mouth before even realising it.
You gulp once âI was just thinking about what life would be like outside these walls. What our lives would look like. If youââ you trail off, looking to the side, to the same industrial gray wall youâve seen all your life, not daring to meet his eyes when telling him the next part.
âIf you would still be here, with me,â you finish your thought in a whisper, and the room feels heavier somehow, the silence wrapping around you like a blanket.
You hear him sigh before his hand comes up to cup your face, gentle, as if youâre made of glass. You feel yourself melt into his hand slightly, before you catch yourself. His thumb brushes against your cheekbone, an action so soft compared to the actions theyâd made him do just earlier today.
His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, when he finally speaks, âYeah, dove. Iâd still be here. With you.â
His words make your face heat up under his hand. Words are stuck in your throat, because it shouldnât be like this, the two of you canât be like this. Still, you look at him, first at his eyes, filled with pure adoration, and then that traitorous part of your brainâyour heart reallyâlooks at his lips for a heartbeat too long before ripping your gaze upwards again. Shit.
You can only hope he didnât notice, but of course you're not that lucky. His soft smile, turns into a teasing, smug one that still has hints of softness underneath. You feel his thumb move down to your jaw. His gaze half-lidded now.
A whisper in the back of your mind warns you of the danger, of how you two shouldnât do this. There are only seven more months until you two get sent off into âthe real world.â Just seven, and then your lives would change, no longer living inside these gray, sterile, walls.
âYouâre right, we shouldnât, dove,â Keigo speaks out, startling you, quickly looking up at him againâwhen did you look away? Did you say that out loud? You donât know, all you know is that youâre warm, Keigoâs wing still draped over you, feathers whispering against your skin like soft little love notes, his chest steady and warm underneath you, hearts syncing to the same beat.
Still, you slowly start closing the distance between the two of you, murmuring a âWe really shouldnât.â His head lifts from the pillow, one last whisper, before meeting you halfway âWeâre not doing anything.â
The first brush of his lips steals your breath, a clumsy meeting of warmth and want. He tastes like something sweet and sharp, adrenaline and something softer hidden underneath. His wing tightens around you, pulling you closer until you canât tell where you end and he begins.
Itâs desperate in the quietest wayâthe kind of kiss you give when youâve both spent your whole lives being told you canât have this. His hand finds the back of your neck, thumb tracing small, grounding circles there, and you think you could drown in the feel of it.
When you finally pull back, the world feels different. Brighter, maybe. Dangerous, definitely. But youâd do it again in a heartbeat.
Your eyes flutter open, looking straight into Keigoâs. Lips a bit red and swollen, drawing your attention to them once again. Thereâs a slight flush on his face, creeping down his neck and disappearing into his Commission issued shirt.
Hands tighten in the fabric, his wing still tight around you, the little feathers puffed up a bit on your back. He pulls you up a bit more, nosing along your jawline. âWe shouldnât do anything more often,â he murmurs against your skin.
You laugh, small and breathy. It skims across his face like a gentle breeze, making him think of the clouds he sometimes flies through when the Commission lets him outâonly for him to do his mission, which most of the time involves something teenagers shouldnât be even thinking of doing.
âWe really shouldnât.â with that you capture his lips again, stealing his breathâand heartâonce more. Eyelashes fluttering against cheekbones, tongues entangling a bit more expertly now, but still awkward. Noses keep bumping into each other, and you exhale a laugh into his mouth. You feel him smile in return before he tightens his hold on you once more.
The rest of the time together is spent like that, adrenaline filling the both of you. This shouldnât be happening, you shouldnât even entertain the thought of kissing someone, much less Keigoâor Hawks, as they call him here.
He shouldnât even be in your room right now, having snuck out of his own earlier that evening. How the two of you havenât been caught over the years is beyond you, but then again, the two of you arenât perfect weapons for nothing.
By the time you pull away from himâstill close enough to feel and hear his heartbeat beneath you, feel the way his chest rises and falls with every breathâitâs way past the time he normally sneaks back into his own room.
âYou should probably go,â you whisper, and his eyes are still on youâon the way your hair is a bit messy now with the way he was running his hands through it. On the way your lips are red and kiss-bitten. On the way your cheeks are almost as red as his wings. âYouâre already later than normal.â
And oh, how he wishes he can just stay here, in the same bed as you, wrap his around around you and fall asleep with your head on his chest. But that isnât reality, is it? The two of you are still in this mindless dungeon your parents sold you off to. Industrial gray fills his vision when he looks around your room once more. The only thing that makes it seem brighter is youâeven if what youâre wearing doesnât have any color in it.
Heâs been thinking about this moment for years. Just being alone with you, having you all to himself, away from the watchful eyes of the Commission. Heâd buy an apartment for the two of you, living together to save expenses.
Of course heâd have to feed the Commission some bullshit lie about the two of you working better together. Team building isnât something theyâre fond of, but with the right twist of words he can definitely work something out to keep you close to him.
But for now he knows he should go back to his room. Be mindful of the handful of handlers that sometimes walk through the hallwaysâalways watching, except for when theyâre not. Heâs memorised their routines. How many steps each handler takes. When they do their rounds. Knows the way the cameraâs are angled, and how to avoid them.
He knows, but still he canât seem to let go of you. His hands on your hips, tracing small, invisible shapes into your skin. He surges forward once more, giving you a small peck this time. âGoodnight, dove.â
âGoodnight, Kei,â you whisper back, before pushing yourself off him so he can get out of the room. He glances back toward you one more time, feathers angled towards you like theyâre reaching out, before he dips out of your room and towards his own.
Rolling over you bury your face into the pillow and let out a small squealâone of the only feelings you let yourself feel while inside of this building. Itâs so unlike you, so unlike the person the Commission wants you to be. But you canât help it.
And then you feel it, under your shirt, pressed over your heartâKeigoâs feather. The one he keeps on you to make sure youâre safe. It wiggles a few times before sliding up and slipping out of your neckline. Right, he can hear you. Huffing through your nose you look at it hovering right in front of you. âWhat?â
The feather shudders slightly, as if laughing. Dickhead. Then it moves towards your face and taps you on your nose onceâa small gesture Keigo loves to do when youâre frowning, and now apparently when youâre squealing, tooâbefore it brushes feather-soft over your lips and disappears into your shirt once more.
Rolling your eyes you finally situate yourself in the bed. But your smile never leaves your face, and even in your sleep you can still feel fingers and feathers all over you.
The next few weeks are spent tense. No secret glances, no lingering touches, no acknowledgement that you and Hawks know each other as more than just two perfect weapons in the making. There are handlers constantly watching the two of you, so if your gaze would fall onto him a second too long, theyâd know something is off.
Inside of these concrete walls you cannot show your true emotions, face blank at all times of the day, despite you wanting to reach out and hold Keigo.
Youâre not sure what the two of you are right nowâexcept for children that are being groomed by those who are supposed to protect heroesâas you havenât had a chance to talk to him about it yet. There have been no more talks in your bedroom.
But every time you walk past him, that one small feather at your ribcage wiggles just slightly. A small acknowledgement that heâs seen you, that he can still feel and hear you, despite not being there with you.
Itâs harder than you expected it to be. Never in your life would youâve thought that youâd share a kiss with the boy youâve spent most of your life with. And never in your life would you have thought youâd come to the conclusion that you are, in fact, in love with said boy.
That doesnât mean you havenât talked to him, though. Well⌠talked is a big word, itâs mostly you who did the talking while he would hover his small feather in front of you, sometimes tapping on your skin if he agreed or disagreed with something. It was a small language the two of you had configured when younger.
A smile threatens to take over your face, before you smooth it over and look ahead again. Your handler is walking behind youâan older woman in her fiftiesâhands clasped behind her back, clipboard in hand, her heels click click clicking on the linoleum floor below, suit crisp, not a single wrinkle in sight. Her expression schooledâthe same way yours is, and everyone elseâs in this entire building.
Another set of footsteps can be heard from the other side of the hallway, one a bit more lax, and the other right on their heel. You know that gait anywhere. Hawks.
The two of you walk past each other and bow your heads towards one another. Custom, something they drilled into you. Thereâs nothing to be seen in his golden eyes, not a glimpse of emotion, nor can it be found in yours.
His birthmarks seem darker in these lights, almost as if they had filled them in with an even darker shade of black before he had to train. Youâre sure people will think that itâs simply eyeliner, when itâs not.
One of the little kids hereâaround sixâhad asked him if it was, and heâd laughed at them. Small but genuine. It was one of the only times heâs ever shown emotion outside of your room, and it made your heart flutter inside of your ribcage. Something that didnât go unnoticed by the blond, whose feathers puffed up behind him a little.
The footsteps disappear behind you, indicating that Hawks and his handler are away from earshot, which makes your own handler finally speak up. She talks about quirk swapping the kids, aged ten to fourteen. There are only four in totalâseven children in the program, including you and Keigoâbut they need to know what itâs like to not fight with their own quirk.
Itâs your quirk, being able to swap quirks of others. The first time you told Keigo that, he absolutely lit up and asked you if you could swap quirks with him, which you did without a second thought. Youâd warned him it meant he didnât have a quirk, at all, but he just beamed and told you he wanted to see his wings on you.
Seven year old you had done so after confirming he really was okay with it. When he nodded, you focused and swapped them around. Crimson wings sprouting from your back, while Keigoâs disappeared. It went fine for all but 2 seconds, then it went wrong.
Keigo was so used to his wings, he instinctively leaned forward to keep balance. Without his wings, he toppled forward, center of gravity having shifted, no longer being dragged back by his wings. You in the meantime fell backwards, the heavy wings dragging you down, not having braced for the extra weight youâd be carrying on your back.
Keigo landed on top of you, while you landed on one of yourâtechnically Keigoâsâwings. Pain shot through your spine, and up your skull. Tears pricking at your waterline, and one even slid down your temple and disappeared into your hair.
And then came the noise. It was as if everything was tuned up to the maxâyou could hear the buzz of electricity in the ceiling lights, keypads, electric doors. Could hear your own heartbeat, blood rushing through you, the sound of the feathers twitching behind your back. And you could even hear his heartbeat and blood rushing through him.
Putting your hands to your ears you tried blocking everything out, but it didnât help. You could hear everything around you, even when you curled up in a ball.
The boy above you was touching your shoulder, speaking, but even that felt like it was too loudânot registering the words he was desperately trying to tell you. You laid on that floor for what seemed like hours, crying about everything being too loud.
It was only when Keigo started whispering, so soft no one else wouldâve heard, that you finally heard what he was saying. âSwap it back. Give me my wings back and itâll be fine.â And you did just that. The red plumes disappearing behind you and reappearing behind their rightful owner.
âSorry, I shouldâve warned you,â Keigoâs voice was trembling a bit, fingers wiping under your eyes to rid them of their tears. âI forgot. Iâm used to it now.â
That made your heart stutter a bit. Thatâs what he hears at all times? It wasnât something you accounted for. Youâve seen his quirk in actionâflying, though it was more hovering in place, and him controlling th individual feathers to slice through objects with precision it scared youâbut you never actually asked what it did.
âThatâs what you hear all the time?â you breathed out, fingers trembling slightly beside you. Keigo nodded his head, his golden curls bouncing with the motion. The two of you are silent for a bit before you finally spoke up again, âIâm sorry you have to hear all of that.â
He merely shrugged, as if this was normal. As if itâs normal to be able to hear footsteps the floors down. To hear the electricity travel through appliances. To hear your own blood pump through you. And it made little you so incredibly sad. While itâs quiet in the building, it is still loud for him. You always thought it was eerie with how abandoned the building seemedânot because it was falling apart or because there was ivy growing everywhere, but because of how empty it was inside. But for him every single thing is noise.
Youâd pulled him into a hug right then and there, and whispered in his ear that youâd talk to him if he ever felt lonely. He merely smiled at you and returned the hug. Just two weapons in training that found solace in each other.
The kids inside the facility, despite being older than you and Keigo were at the time, still remind you of the two of you. The first time you swap their quirks around, they all look confused, still used to how they fight with their own quirk, only to quickly realise they have to adapt.
On one hand itâs a good lesson, youâd never know when youâd lose your quirk during a battle, on the other hand itâs absolutely disgusting that theyâre practicing this on barely teens.
You keep swapping quirks around once they get used to how the new quirk feels, just to throw them off. Itâs not something you do with great pleasure, but you canât exactly go against whatever your handler assigns you to do.
Itâs something youâve tried before, only to be put in solitary confinement for a week. In there they still had you practice all sorts of things, but you just didnât get to be around people anymore. You still shudder every time you think of the place.
Once the handler deems the exorcise to be enough for the kidsâalmost two whole hours laterâyou get steered out of the room, onto your next assignment.
âSince you and Hawks are about to debut in a few months, we need to make sure the two of you are desensitized, him moreso than you,â she flips through the papers on her clipboard, occasionally nodding her head at something thatâs written down. âYouâll have to act like fans without boundaries. There will be other people pulling him into every direction. Just make sure he doesnât sharpen his feathers.â
With that she pushes the door open, and in the middle of the room stands Keigoâor Hawks, right nowâhis red wings spread out into a brilliant arc, showing off all the way from the primaries down to the dowry feathers he has.
His handler is checking his wings, ensuring the strength and health of them, twisting and turning some pieces, and tugging on others. You know he hates that. Hates anyone that touches his wings, except for you. Itâs something heâs told you since the two of you were young, said it hurt with how they disregarded the fact that he could feel whenever people touched his feathers, as sensitive as nerve endings.
It took him a while to trust you enough to let the pad of your finger skim over one of the primaries while they were in their half-sharp state. He wasnât sensitized enough to let you touch his feathers when they were in their resting state just yet, but he did trust you enough that he at least let you touch them. Ever since that moment he started trusting you more and more, to a point where you can now preen him without any problems.
Heâs fallen asleep once, when you were preening him after a brutal day. They had him run simulations all day longâfly through rubble and falling buildings, soot and smoke clinging to his feathers turning the brilliant velvet into ash. He had to save hundreds, if not thousands of dummies that were stuck in the wrecksâto a point where the skin at the base of his wings were inflamed.
Youâd wanted to trace the skin, soothe it somehow, but you thought better of it. Heâd snuck out of his room later that day to get into yours, and the moment you saw him you patted the limited space beside you on the bed.
Heâd all but flopped onto the bed with a groan, telling you about how much his wings were hurting him. Itâs not something the two of you did oftenâcomplain to each otherâbut after particularly hard days you just had to vent to someone, and who better than your best friend.
So youâd combed your fingers through his wind-swept hair, untangling the obvious knots in them. Sometimes you accidentally tugged on a strand a bit too hard, but he didnât complain about it even once; merely sighed out into your duvet and kept talking about whatever his mind could conjure up.
At some point your fingers slid down to his wings, and youâd started to carefully preen him. While his wings were cleaner now, there were still some stubborn pieces of soot clinging to themâsomething you yourself couldnât get off with just your handsâbut that wasnât something you were after. No, you just carefully started to put every feather into their rightful place, sometimes that meant twisting the feather at the base a bit, and other times that meant getting rid of the keratin casings on the newer feathers.
You werenât sure when, but somewhere when you switched to preen his other wing, heâd stopped talking and his breath had evened out, eyes fluttering shut. Smiling you continued to preen him.
The sight of the handler tugging on some of the feathers makes you more mad than you should be. Not that you can show it, though. If someone were to suspect anything going on between you and Hawks, you were in some deep shit, whether it be just surface-level friendship, or something deeper. So you swallow and steel your expression.
Your own handler gives a squeeze at your elbow before she leaves the room to go to the monitor room. Once Keigoâs handler steps back, he nods once and walks past you, thrusting a piece of paper and a pen into your hand.
With that, the two of you are left alone. Well⌠you know there are tens of pairs of eyes upon the two of you, watching, waiting.
And then the simulation starts. A pro hero walks beside Hawks, chatting. The entire room transforms into that of a city, cars buzzing past, people leaving little shopsâjust a normal day in a city. Not that you and Keigo really know what that looks like.
If you were gonna do this, you could at least have some fun with it. Inhaling, you put a smile on your face, before absolutely squealing. âOH. MY. GOD. IS THAT HAWKS?!â
The simulation responds. People stop on the sidewalk, looking back at âthe two heroesâ, cars slow down slightly. And then you move. Fast. You cross the sidewalk in no time, getting all up in Hawksâ space.
âYouâre my favorite hero! I canât believe I get to meet youâ can I get an autograph?â you gush, not giving him a moment to respond before thrusting the pen into his face and holding out the paper the handler gave you.
Hawks, for his part, just smiles, and it makes your heart beat a little fasterâsomething he can definitely hear. âOf course, whatâs your name?â
You mumble out a random name before your hand shoots out toward his wing. âThese are so cool. And so soft! Do you think I can get one?â You tug on his feathers a bit forcefully, not going as hard as you probably should for the assignment, but you also donât wanna hurt him.
Thereâs a slight bristle from his feathers before he smooths them over again. Keigo just chuckles at you, signing your piece of paper before giving back the pen. âAh, sorry, no can do. Wish I could, though.â He winks over at you before he gets absolutely hoarded by other peopleâfake or not, they still feel real.
The rest of the day is spent like that, you throwing your arms around him, tugging on his feathers, squealing and screaming. Anything and everything to show the handlers that heâs sensitized enough to be able to walk outside without any problem.
Once the two of you are done, your handler pulls you aside. âWeâre gonna run another simulation. Tomorrow. Your turn.â
Right, because they have to know if youâre good enough to swap quirks with him if needed. Luckily the two of you have practiced that many times after the first time.. The Commission telling you that no one else should ever get their hands on his wings, except for you. If he ever loses too many feathers during a fight, you have to jump in and swap quirks. Youâll get his feathers while you give him one of the quirks from the fightâleaving one of the villains Quirkless.
So they have to know you donât completely shut down in an environment like that. Which you get, but itâs still annoying as fuck.
By the time your handler lets you go, Keigo is already gone. Probably towards his own room for the night. Itâs only when you walk past a supply closet that an hand encloses around your wrist and tugs you into it.
The first thing you do is try to twist whoeverâs arm it is behind them, but youâre quickly spun around. Your back hits the door with a thud, one hand is covering your mouth while the other is on your hip. âShhhh, dove, itâs just me.â
Your hands fall to your sides. Blinking a few times your vision sharpens enough to see Keigoâs silhouette. âFucking hell, Hawks, what are you doing?â you hiss at him once he removes his hand from your mouth. Keigo just smiles at you, small, but dangerous. âWhat, you think you can just touch me all day without driving me absolutely crazy?â
Right, you did do that, but that was for the assignment. Trying to get an reaction out of him. So what if your fingers skimmed over his most vulnerable partsâthe base joints near his shoulder bladesâthat was all for the assignment, of course.
âYou canât just pull me into a storage closet, what if someone saw us?â you ask him, still not moving from where youâre pressed against the door. âNo one saw us, and the cameraâs have a dead spot here.â
Damn him and his smart brain. His thumb is tracing small circles on your hipbone, while his other hand creeps up to cup your jaw. Your own arms enclose around his neck, fingers playing with the hairs at his nape.
He surges forward, lips crashing against yours in a frenzy. You kiss him back just as eager. Itâs been weeks since the last kiss, and youâd be lying if you said you didnât miss him.
âMissed you,â he mumbles against your lips, nose bumping into yours when he angles his head a bit. âMissed you, too.â
His wing wraps itself around you, feathers whispering against your skin over the fabric. They tremble slightly while your tongues entangle, puffing up slightly in affection he canât hide.
A string of saliva connects the two of you when you pull away from him. It snaps a second later, leaving your lips shiny and slightly swollen. His arenât any better, small teeth indentations on his bottom lip from where you pulled it between your teeth.
His forehead drops to yours, eyes halflidded and hazed over a little. Your breaths mingling, but mouths not touching any longer. Your chest rises and falls against his, heartbeats syncing, before it stutters once he looks at you like thatâpure adoration filling his eyes.
âHated not being able to see you for so long,â his voice is breathy, a slight groan pulling from his chest when your finger wraps around one of his locks of hair. âHeard you, though.â
And he did. You talked to him almost every night, but that doesnât make up for the fact that he wasnât there in person with you.
âOnly five more months,â you reply. Five more months before the two of you are finally free from this prison they keep you in. Those industrial gray walls youâve seen almost your entire life. The slightly cold rooms that keep you on edge constantly. âJust five before we can get out of here.â
Keigo just smiles at you, not replying with words, but rather by pressing his lips to yours once more. Itâs quiet and full of love. âThen letâs endure them and we can finally stop sneaking around like this, love.â
The nickname has you blinking a few times. Maybe it was a slip of the tongue, âdoveâ and âloveâ are so similair, after all. But your cheeks heat up all the same. Nodding your head you peck his lips once more before finally letting go of him.
He steps back slightly, fingers lingering on your hip before retracting completely. You twist the doorknob before looking over your shoulder and smiling slightly. With that you leave him in the supply closet, alone.
Keigo presses his forehead against the door for a few moments to let his heart calm down. He didnât think he would miss you so damn much, but after that once kiss the two of you shared weeks ago, he hasnât been able to think of anything but you.
Cursing he runs his hands through his hair once, before opening the door and slipping out. Wings dragging behind him like a cape that holds every little sign of affection heâs had for you since the first day he saw you.
Itâs only a few days later when Keigo comes to your room again. You honestly hadnât expected him today. Theyâd sent him out on a mission that from the looks of it, was going to take all day, if not all night. But here he is, standing in your door opening.
Sitting up you pat the space beside you, inviting him in like you always do. He crosses the room quickly to go sit beside you. His fingers are playing with each otherâa small habit you havenât seen him do oftenâwhile he looks at everything but you.
âYou okay?â you ask, your hand reaching for his shoulder, only for him to jerk away before you can touch him. Blinking a few times you let your hand fall back beside you. âHey, whatâs going on?â
He takes a deep breath in, stops fiddling with his fingers, and looks you straight into the eyes. You get slightly lost in everything that they areâgolden with those amber specs in them, all predator when he narrows themâbefore you shake your head slightly.
âI think we should stop seeing each other,â he states, still holding eye contact with you. And you can feel your heart drop to your stomach. Freezing slightly, everything around you seems to slow downâthe way youâre breathing, the slight electral buzz thatâs always there in the walls somehow feels muffled and distant, hell even Keigo looks far away.
âWhat?â
âItâs just not going to work. Not with the way the Commission is always on our asses. And- and I donât think I really have feelings for you,â he vomits the words out like theyâre acidic, burning his tongue if they donât leave fast enough.
It doesnât compute for a second. The words sound foreign. As if some random stranger came up to you and told you the sky was purple. âI- what? But what about the five months? You said we only had to wait for five more months before we could stop sneaking around.â
Keigo just shakes his head, standing up from your bed. The distance between the two of you feels greater than it actually is, as if thereâs a canyon between the two of you, whereas you two were normally all up in each othersâ space.
âJust⌠donât. This is better. For the both of us.â With that he starts walking toward the door. You feel under your shirt for the red plume thatâs pressed to your ribs.
âThen take this back,â you spit towards him, throwing the feather in his direction without a care. He picks it up before slipping out the door, just as quietly as he came in.
When you hear the door click shut behind him, you let yourself fall back onto the thin matrass, staring up at the cold ceiling. Thereâs this quake in your chest you refuse to acknowledge.
Almost twelve years. Almost twelve years of knowing the boy with his crimson wings. Almost eleven years of being friends. Ten of being âbest friendsâ. And yet, two months of being more than best friends, and everything crumbled.
You knew. You knew the friendship you and Keigo built was based on a house of cards, one wrong move and everything would collapse, but never did you think the collapse would look like thisâlike him being the one pushing the house to collapse.
All those smiles and giggles. All those memories made in corners the Commission could never reach. And now itâs all gone.
All because you let yourself fall in love with your best friend.
The next few months are a hell on earthânot that you werenât used to it by now, but itâs definitely different not having Keigo by your side. You pushed yourself into assignments more and more; any free time you did have was spent asking for more assignments, or just training in general.
You couldnât dare to sit in your own room, forced to sit in the silence that feels more suffocating than ever. The walls still carry the laughter. Still carry the gentle warmth Keigo somehow left behind, almost as if his feathers spanned the walls, feather-soft to the touch.
Whenever youâre in your room you just stare blankly at the ceiling, listening to the buzz of the electrics around you. There was one time you had your pillow clutched to your chest, unable to sleep, because you kept seeing golden eyes staring back at you. Crimson wings touching your skin, and those unruly tufts of wind-swept hair.
The pillow still faintly smelled like him at that point, and you tried so hard not to bury your nose into it and inhale like your life depended on it. You were so lost in thought, tryingâand failingânot to think about him, that you startled when you felt something prick into your chest.
Moving the pillow you felt something soft brush over your skin, something that felts suspiciously much like a feather. Heart pounding in your chest you ripped the pillow from your chest, hoping to see that familiar crimson plume you threw back at him in a fit of anger, only to see a singular, sad white feather.
Right, pillows are filled with feathers.
Your hands were shaking when you picked it up, swallowing around the lump in your throat, you laid it under your pillow, which you put under your head again. It was something you couldnât explain, but it just felt right to keep it there, with you.
Itâs still under your pillow, even nowâalmost five months later. Sometimes you pick it up and twirl it around in your finger, watching the way it droops down like itâs sad. And with the right imagination you can imagine it being red, but even when you do that you know it isnât his.
His feathers were a little harder, not fanned out as much. They were sturdy and so brilliantly red, you couldnât imagine it being his.
Despite that you still held onto it like it was worth anything more than it actually was. Sometimes you put it under your shirt while you slept, waking up with an itch, almost as if reminding you it shouldnât be there. Other times you just⌠talked.
But this feather doesnât respond to what youâre saying. Doesnât hover in front of you, shuddering with laughter when you say something stupid. Doesnât tap your nose or skin in agreement. Itâs just there, clutched between your thumb and index finger.
You sometimes wonder if he misses you as much, but then quickly push the thought away. He broke it up for a reason, so you canât let yourself go down that route.
Whenever you saw him in the hallways, you didnât look at him. Didnât nod like you used to, just stared blankly ahead. Teeth clenched, hands balled, leaving small indents on your palms.
He didnât look at you, either. Always staring ahead. Hand in his pockets while avoiding eye contact. While the two of you never lingered on each other, there were some glances. Now itâs like the two of you are merely strangers.
So no, you wouldnât admit you miss him, because heâs clearly doing fine without you. The Commissionâs golden boy. Now getting even more praise. You hear it from the âkidsâ all the timeâmissions he went on, the absolute control he has over his quirk, anything and everything.
You tune everything they say about him out. Never listening too much about what theyâre saying. Not the handlers, not the kids.
The two of you had a mission together two weeks ago, which went⌠okay. Hawks did most of the work, to be completely honest. Something about not needing you there. It honestly stung when he said that, but you pushed the feeling away, merely telling him he could do whatever he wanted. Which he did.
Youâd gotten reprimanded about not participating, while Hawks got all the praise. Heâd looked over at you with a smirk on his faceânot the one he used to give you, no this one was radiating smugness from himâand you wanted to punch it clean off his stupidly handsome face.
Now itâs time for you to step out into the real world. The Commission had gotten you your own agency with a few sidekicks in the Sendai district, while they had sent Hawks to Kyushuâthe other side of the country.
You werenât sure how to feel about that, feelings conflicting in a tight knot inside your chest. On one hand you were glad he wasnât with you, on the other hand you felt sad because the two of you had dreamed of running an agency together, or at least close enough to each other that you two would be able to frequently see each other.
And with the way the Commission had sent you out on missions together from when you were younger, to training together, youâd absolutely believed they would let the two perfect weapons stay together, strengthening each other. But alas, the two of you had drifted away from each other.
Now youâre looking at the building that supposedly âyoursâ. You know damn well itâs the Commissionâs, but you let yourself believe for just a moment that itâs something of your own. They own you, though, so youâre not sure youâll ever get something of your own.
Stepping inside the lobby you step into a new part of your lifeâalone.
The first year goes well. You quickly climb the rankings, no doubt the Commission having something to do with it, but itâs still something. You recently just breached the top 10. Your name being everywhere.
The rookie hero who debuts in the top ten!
But wherever your name is, his follows. Hawks being more popular amongst the masses, purely for being so charismatic. You roll your eyes at that, as if you didnât know damn well how charismatic he can be. And from everything youâve seen, the smirks, the winks, the little murmured sentences to his fansâall fake.
Youâre muttering to yourself about how his real smirk is more awkward, it has that little adorable tilt to it that makes it more cute than sexy. His wink normally isnât as smooth. The little dimple doesnât appear on his face when he smiles.
But not that you notice that. Of course not. Heâs made it very clear with what the two of you are, which is absolutely nothing. So you donât look at it too long, always clicking away whenever his face pops up on the screens.
Seems like despite not working together you still canât get away from him.
The Commission drowns you in assignments. You do your normal patrols, go out when you get paged, and after that you have to do the dirty work no one ever would even think of heroes doing. Granted most heroes donât do the things youâand Hawksâdo.
It makes for a good distraction, though. Youâre simply too exhausted to even care about a certain blond-haired crimson-winged hero at the other side of Japan.
That is until the annual hero billboards come around. Your days have been so swamped that you didnât even realise it was that time of the year already.
So here you are, walking backstage, waiting for the event to start. Number ten.
You know the Commission definitely messed with the numbers, but you arenât complaining. Thereâs a lot of things you do that go unnoticed, so maybe this is a way of them telling you you did a good job. Or maybe theyâre trying to keep you under their thumbs by putting you in the spotlights so you canât slack off for even a day.
The perfect weapons.
Thatâs all youâll ever be to them. Not a person. Not a hero. A weapon they created to use at their disposal. Same for the guy you spent almost your entire life beside.
Speaking ofâ your shoulder collides with another, making you stumble slightly. Itâs not something that has happened often, your handler always being on your ass to be alert. Vigilant. Stay aware of your surroundings at all times. But with how tired you are you canât really focus. Seems like even the strongest sometimes need a break.
Youâre bowing a full ninety degrees, mumbling out a âsorryâ before straightening up again. And all the air seems to leave your lungs.
A pair of golden eyes is staring straight at you, lips pursed, bushy brows furrowed slightly. An annoyed look you werenât familiar with. Never in the thirteen years of knowing him has he ever looked at you like thatâor anyone for that matter, because handlers would have his head if he so much as disobeyed them.
âSee you made the top ten,â he mutters out with a scoff, disdain lacing his voice. But you canât hear him, not really anyway. Your mind already far, far away from the billboards and rather back in those industrial gray rooms that you were so familiar with.
Eyes that are golden with amber specks in them are looking at you. Thereâs dark marks around the eyes that has your head tilt a bit. Your hand is fisted in the fabric of this tall strangerâs pantsâyouâll later learn that itâs your handler, one of the many youâll get over the years that youâll stay in that rotten place youâve never escapedâwhile you step away from their legs just slightly when you see the boy stand there.
His golden curls bounce on top of his head, a single curl falls into his eyes, which he swipes away with one hand while the other is clutching a plushy of sorts. Youâre not familiar with what, or who it is, but itâs clearly a man with a flaming beard.
Your voice doesnât come to you, throat hoarse from all the screaming youâve done when your parents told you to stay here with the nice lady while they went out for errands. You just couldnât understand why they didnât want to take you with them and rather let you stay with a stranger.
Eyes welled up with fat tears that rolled down the round apples of your cheeks that were blotched red with the way you were crying for your parents.
Why didnât they want to take you with them?
Nose snotty and eyes completely red-rimmed you were staring at this boy that seemed to be your age. He wasnât that much taller than you were, but he was calm, looking at you like you were something interesting. And in that moment you calmed down slightly.
The hiccups stopped after a while, when the handler nice lady told you you could play with the boy. That seemed more fun, for a second forgetting your parents just left you here. Maybe being here for a few hours wouldnât hurt all that much.
Said boy told you his name was Hawks, and youâd giggled then and told him your real nameâsomething you got reprimanded for by the lady, and your little mind just couldnât understand why she was scolding you for simply telling him your nameâin turn.
The rest of the day was spent with giggles and hushed voices. There might not have been much to play withâonly giving the two of you a few blocks to play withâbut it was enough to keep your mind off the fact that your parents pretty much had abandoned you here.
It was only when the lady came back and told you two to go to bed that you were brought back to reality. Your little fist rubbing your eyes while you asked if mama and papa were there for you. The lady gave you a look, something between disappointment and reprimand, and told you that you were having a sleepover today.
Your lips pursed while your eyebrows furrowed together. As much as you liked this new boy, you werenât a fan of sleeping over here. Your parents said they would only go out to run some errands, never saying anything about you staying here for the night.
When youâd pleaded with the lady to just go home, she got angry and told you to behave, almost scolding you like a mom does.
That seemed to do something to the young boy, though, because he immediately clamped his mouth shut while his eyes turned blankâthe signs of him being happy were simply erased from his face like a light switch was turned offâand he stood up to go to, what you presumed was, his room.
From then on out there were no more playdates, only people testing your quirk out on different people, trying to gauge your power from when you were a mere five years old. Your parents never came back for you, and you later found out that youâd simply been sold off.
But through it all, from that first day up until almost the last, was one person you could always rely onâKeigo. Or as the masses call him: Hawks. That name makes you shudder, for multiple reasons, but mostly because you know what it meant for him to get a name like that. A prisoner in a corrupt system that shouldâve never existed to begin with.
And now heâs here, looking at you like youâre a pest in his life. Like youâre one of them. Not trying to hide his disdain for you, and you canât help but feel a nerve in your jaw tick at the sight.
Sure, you were the person who fell in love with your best friendâwhich you knew was stupid to begin with, not just because he might not love you back, but also because the Commission would never allow the two of you to be distracted to begin withâbut heâs the one who broke whatever it was the two of you had off.
So why is he glaring at you like youâre mere gum on the bottom of his shoe, or that one little barb he never can reach in his wings that you always had to preen for him otherwise heâd get agitated.
âMhmm. See you did, too. Mustâve been easy, charming every women to get a little more popularity over there,â you smile at him through gritted teeth, trying so incredibly hard not to let anyone whoâd walk past see that thereâs any animosity between the two of you.
He smiles at you all condescendingly. It makes your eye twitch just slightly, but his eye see the movementâof course they do, the two of you have been trained to look at little tells like that since you were young, always so in tune with otherâs emotionsâand his grin widens, almost as if heâs won something.
Heâs about to retort something when his wings twitch on his back, a movement so minuscule, no one else would catch it, but you know him better than anyone else, even if you donât want to acknowledge that part right now.
The two of you straighten up and smile at each otherâone of the practiced, fake ones that no one would be able to tell was fake to begin withâpretending to chat about the rankings. One of the heroes walks past and nods his head at the two of you, while the two of you bow back to him.
When heâs out of sight you drop the entire persona, not bothering with the fake smiles and niceties. You note the way Hawks relaxes slightly, feathers betraying his every being no matter how much he tries to hide from you, too.
Your hand shoots to your ribs, fingers skimming over your hero suit. The fabric dark with gold detailsâjust like his, because the two of you might not do things together, but the HPSC still has their claws in the two of youâbut itâs empty underneath. Just flesh and bone. No red feather that flutters against your skin whenever the blond saw you, or missed you. No longer replies to your sighs.
Itâs easy to get lost in all thatâs him. The blond and red. The cocky smirk he has on his face, and the slight stubble heâs beginning to grow. Itâs easy to get lost, and then get pulled back into the present when he scoffs and walks past you, shoulder deliberately knocking into yours.
You want to spill your heart out when you once again see him walk away from you, just like that night. Wings held high, feathers trembling slightly and the back of his head turned towards yours. Want to tell him that it meant nothing, that the two of you could still be friends, like old times sake. But you know that wonât happen, no matter how much you want it to.
The two of you have simply⌠grown apart. No longer best friends, or that more-than-bestfriends thing the two of you had before he broke it off. Right now the two of you are colleagues. Strangers with history. Enemies competing for the better spot on a leader board the two of you donât care about.
Your hand falls from your ribs to your side, and itâs so easy to make him stay, but itâs also easy to let him walk away. Because what good would it do? Heâs made his stance very clear on the matter. No longer wanting you in his life, no matter what he had promised you.
Walls no longer industrial gray, but rather a muted white, but they feel more lifeless that the prison that you called your home for years, because a certain someone isnât there to brighten them up. Only the sun setting into hues of violet and peach paints the room in colors.
He said heâd still be here with you, yet you watch him walk away from you the moment the two of you see each other again.
Fine. So be it.
And thatâs how the competition really begins.
After the first hero billboard comes the petty revenge. Flirting more with your fansâshowing him that you can use his tactics to become more popular, too. The hero rankings are constantly fluctuating, you and Hawks surpassing each other every time, trading ranks like youâre trading stock.
People online have started putting bets on who will be higher ranked this year. The two rookie heroes going head to head, making for an exciting race, or whatever it is theyâre saying.
He garners attention by flirting with his fans, you garner attention by doing a shoot, face plastered on every billboard across Japan. Itâs petty. Itâs stupid. Itâs the only way you can keep him close to you despite being hundreds of kilometers apart.
Thereâs a nagging voice at the back of your head now every time you see his face or name anywhere on the internet. No longer associated with Keigo but rather with Hawks the hero who youâre competing against.
The second annual billboard ranks you at five while heâs at six. The saccharine smile you plaster on your face when the two of you are on stage ticks him off. You can see it in the little tells, one of his feathers near his scapula is razor-sharp one second, while soft the other.
People start asking the two of you questionsârookie heroes, dating scandals, anything and everything they can get their hands on. You deflect with a smile and a wink, and he does the same.
Later that same night thereâs hundreds of clips posted about how the two of you would make such a good team or would be so good together. Your eye twitches at that, fingers cracking with the way youâre balling your hands so hard your nails breach the skin on your palms and blood steadily trickles down your forearm.
What would they know about you being âsuch a good item with him.â They do not know Hawks the same way you do, and over your dead body would you go back to him. The feud you have with him is at this point more important than anything else.
So you start doing other things on your off timeâwhich you already barely have, but for the sake of winning this god-forsaken competition youâd give up all of your free timeâsuch as going into schools and telling children about safety and what to do in villain attacks.
Your popularity numbers are climbing by the day, more of you can be seen in tabloids. Face plastered all over social media for helping a cat get out of a tree. Bringing in groceries for the nice old lady on the sidewalk. Things you would never do out of your own volition, purely because that hasnât been trained into you to do.
Seems like you underestimated how low Hawks would step, though. Itâs during one of your regular patrols, the sun is blistering down and sweat is beading off your temple and down your jaw. Thereâs a marker in your hand while a kid is jumping up and down in excitement to get your autograph.
Youâre smiling, already thinking of where you could get something to hydrate, the cold surely feeling nice against your parched throat, when a big shadow falls across you.
People starts squealing and pointing into the sky, and sure enough there he is. Hawks. All red wings and cocky smirks, hovering in the air. He circles a few times before touching down, immediately getting mobbed by tens of fans.
Hell, even the kid you were giving an autograph just⌠runs away from you. Your pen hovering uselessly in the air. The stench that comes from the marker fills your nostrils, and it finally snaps you out of your reverie.
Pinching yourself once, you confirm that Hawks is, in fact, really here. Standing on your turf, talking and taking pictures with your fans. And you can already hear that stupid counter climb up by the second, getting more popularity by just touching down here.
And as if he can feel your gaze on him, he lifts his head lightly, golden eyes finding your form. For a second he just stares blankly, then he smirks and throws a wink into your direction. Fucking dickhead.
Sighing you continue your patrol while already thinking of how youâll get your revenge.
Kyushu is⌠different than you expected. You never read up much about it, but you knew it was an islandâduhâso you didnât expect to see high rise towers litter everywhere you looked. The buildings so high you would almost be able to touch a cloud if you opened the window; an over-exaggeration, but still.
You thought the place Hawks chose, or well, the HPSC chose for him would have more sea. You thought the air would smell salty, like the ocean, and hear the waves crash ashore, but nothing is less true.
Fukuoka is a heavily populated city. Thereâs buildings, cars, and street life everywhere. When you got sent here you thought it might be different than back in Sendai, but nothing is less true.
The mission had been simple. Go undercover for a drug ring, get the info, let the President know whatâs happening, and turn the whole thing upside down before they even know someone infiltrated their home.
What youâd failed to consider, though, is the fact that this is the home of a certain crimson-winged hero who could spot you from hundreds of meters away.
Looks like he didnât spot you, but rather you him. Tiny feathers slicing through the air at lightning speed, multiple civilians getting pulled out of the way by their clothes while the number two hero fights the villains.
Itâs a sight for sore eyes, wings almost down to little nubs, no longer able to fly, and it seems like these villains arenât gonna stop any time soon.
Heâs exhausted. Thereâs too many innocent bystanders nearby that he has to keep track of while also fighting off two other villains. His wings are almost non-existent, most of the feathers having been used up at this point. One feather-blade is in his hand, luckily still able to use it.
Thereâs sweat beading down his brow, nearly falling into his eye before it drips to the ground, which is littered with debris from the wreckage the villains have done to the city. Itâs honestly more than heâs encountered in the years beforeâhere anyway.
Villains of this size were normally more common in Tokyo, but seems like they decided to bother his district this day.
He deflects one attack while scooping up a child that had fallen trying to run away with one of his feathers, returning the child to his mother who was in tears, officers holding her back from running onto an active villain site.
Then he hears it, a sharp whistle he hasnât heard in years. Itâs music to his ears. It grates him. Almost like he canât decide if he loves you for being here right now, or if he hates the fact that youâre even here to begin with.
He knows you wouldnât come here out of your own volition, just like he doesnât go to Sendai unless ordered, so youâre here on a mission. And here you are, seeing him in this pathetic state, nearly losing to two villains.
Youâd probably laugh at him when you have the time, tell him heâs gonna drop a rank and youâll sprint ahead of him again. The swapping of places hasnât once stopped. The number two and three, constantly swapping places but never getting that number one spot.
But he knows. He knows he should give you the go-ahead. Get this over with. The civilians are the most important thing right now, so he should do whatâs best for themâeven if that means you get a tally added to the score.
So he gives his signal that itâs okay to swap. His wings slowly disappearing from his back. The feathers that he has in his hand goes limpâjust an ordinary red feather right nowâjust like all the others that heâs used to get the bystanders out of the way.
Some people gasp, while others are already filming. He can feel the way his quirk has been swapped for someone elsesâone of the villains, though he doesnât know which of the two.
The villains in front of him look confused for a split second before they grin again, certainly thinking they have the upperhand now. Hawks can only grin in turn, tucking his feather in his jacker sleeveâa souvenir he can give to fans if they want it.
And then a flurry of red feathers come downâsharp as can be. The villains get pinned down almost immediately while Hawks goes in to put quirk-cancelling handcuffs on them. He sees you walk up to him a few seconds after, whistling with your hands in your pocketsâa sight so him it pisses him off. Of course youâd try and mock him while heâs already down.
More people are gasping and screaming each of your names now, but neither of you give them any attention. You stop in front of him, a lazy nod given while the police officers rush onto scene, dragging away the suspects.
There are some words exchanged while you still have his quirk, crimson stark against the dark fabric of your hero suit. And he can see the way the feathers are trembling, just like your fingers. Thereâs a slight tick in your jaw you never could hide, not even from the Commission.
Youâre overstimulated. His quirk simply picking up too many noises at once, while he canât hear anything at all. Itâs something the two of you havenât done in a long timeâswapping quirks. While you did this on a regular years ago, itâs now something foreign. Still, he has to applaud you for keeping your face as neutral as you are right now, because he knows how rowdy people can be.
After the officer is done talking with the two of you he walks away, leaving the two of you to fend for yourselves. Masses crowd around the number two and three, as if you two are merely circus acts and everyone can just do whatever they want.
People want pictures where you have the wings, others are touching the feathers to see if they really are as soft as Hawksâ. And he notes how uncomfortable you are right now, shivers running up your spine when someone tugs on one of the feathers, and he sees the way yourâtechnically hisâwings are twitching like they want to lash out.
So he whispers, as low as he can go, that the two of you can get out of here if you just fly away with him. Which is exactly what you do, picking him up with easeâease that was never there to begin with since he was heavier with the wings dragging behind himâand flying away from the crowd to one of the high-rises.
Itâs an bumpy, unsteady flight all the way up to the tallest building there is, and he has to cling onto you to not plummet to his death. Once you land, clumsy and everything, you set him down.
Your wings shudder behind you before they disappear from your back and form back onto Hawksââonly for there to be stubs instead of actual, massive wings he normally has.
Thereâs sweat clinging to your spine and beading down your temple. Youâd forgotten just how loud his world actually is, not having had to bother with it for years on end. That of course doesnât mean you forgot what his quirk can doâthings no one else in the world except for the President and a few handlers know.
You straighten up, swallowing past the bile that was threatening to come up if you stayed down there any longer, you nod to yourself. Youâre okay. This is okay. Everything is okay.
The blond is just watching you, for once having no quip ready on the tip of his tongue, but rather just⌠looking. Thereâs a hint of concern he canât quite seem to hide from you, but you donât focus too much on that.
Walking up to him you pat him on the back, just between his scapulae where heâs the most sensitive. A little payback youâd say, not just for the fact that you had to get the two of you out of there since he didnât have enough feathers to even fly, but also for all the bullshit he had pulled this year to get ahead of you.
âWell, see you later, number three,â your voice mock-cheerful. You were the number three hero currently, but with todayâs save, or whatever you want to call it, youâre sure your rank will rise once again, surpassing Hawksâ. âGotta do stuff.â
Before you can even walk away a gloved hand wraps itself around your wrist, tugging you back. Another hand finds itself on your hip, warm and familiar in a way you donât want to acknowledge right now. âWhere do you think youâre going?â
Clenching your jaw you look over at the blond, brows furrowing and lips pursing into a straight line. You donât bother to conceal your expression right now, thereâs no one around to see, so you can just show your disdain on your face whenever you wantâone of the special occasions.
âOh Iâm sorry, I forgot. I⌠gotta⌠go,â you slowly annunciate every word, almost as if youâre talking to a deaf person with dementia who has to lip read. You know he can hear you just fineâwhile he might not be able to hear everything, his ears still work perfectly fine.
The next instant youâre backed onto a brick wall of the bulkhead. Rough stone scraping against your back through the fabric of your hero suit. It has you gasping out slightly, not thinking he would do something like this.
âYouâre such a brat sometimes,â he breathes out, pupils almost like slits, and oh, heâs pissed. Not his normal relaxed self, but rather actually annoyed at something you didâand if you had to guess it was to hit him where it hurt the most. âYou should be happy I even gave you the go-ahead to use my quirk.â
That ticks you off. Itâs not like you want to use his quirk, but he was in a bind and he knows it. If it were up to you, you would never even think of using his quirk. So you do what you know bestâhands coming around to his back to where the little wings are still uncovered, one of your fingers tracing over his feather. Slow and teasing.
He groans out at the sensation, eyes fluttering closed for just a second before he opens them again, pupils dilated slightly. Then he turns you around, your chest pressing up to the stone while your cheek lays flat against the rough texture. A gasp rips itself from your throat.
His breath ghosts the shell of your ear while he presses his chest against your back, and you feel the bulge in his pants on your ass, making you gulp out. He cannot be serious right now.
âYou sure you wanna do this, birdie?â the nickname has you close your eyes for a split-second. For a moment you can hear it echo in your head, distort it until you hear that all too familiar nickname: âdoveâ, but he doesnât, he just uses the same nicknames he gives his fangirls.
You scoff out at it, and try to wiggle your way from him, only for your ass to brush his bulge. He moans out at the sensation before pushing his hips further into youâpressing it right against your ass so you can feel just how hard he is. âTell me to stop, and I will.â
Pressing your thighs together, you can feel yourself getting hot and bothered. Even after all these years he still gets you going like no otherânot that youâve ever even looked at someone else. The competition between you two has had your focus so much that you havenât even had the time to go on a date, and honestly you didnât care to go on one, either.
When you donât say anything he chuckles. It comes deep from his chest, rumbling it with the sound thatâs completely foreign to you.
âWho wouldâve thought,â he whispers, fingers slowly tracing up and down your side, not groping, not grabbing, just tracing featherlight touches along your sides while he humps against your ass. Itâs almost as if he isnât aware of his own ministrations, simply rutting against you like a dog in heatâbetter yet, like a bird in heat. âBet you flew us here just to rile me up.â
One of his hands slowly goes to the front, fingers skimming your ribs, just where his feather always used to lay. He makes a little shape there before his fingers trace upwards, squeezing your tit once over the fabric. Shivers run down your spine, straight into your core, and you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second. Panties sticking uncomfortably to your folds.
âHah, you wishâshit,â your head lolls back onto his shoulder when he finds your nipple over the fabric, pinching and rolling the bud between his forefinger and thumb before he tugs on it slightly. âYouâre so full of yourself.â
âYouâre gonna be full of me in a second,â he murmurs against your cheek, hips never ceasing their motion, while his other hand finally trails down, stopping just at your pants. Itâs only when you nod at him that he slips his fingers inside them, digits finding your heat immediately. âOh? So wet for someone whoâs âso full of himselfâ.â
His fingers move over your panties, lightly caressing it, almost like heâs preening himselfâcareful not to press too hard, nor move too fast, and it has you absolutely whining out for him.
âR-really, thatâs all you can come up with. Thought youâd have someâfuck just keep them thereâmore practice with your l-little fangirls,â you moan out when his fingers skim over your clit, not pressing or rubbing, just featherlight touches that drive you absolutely crazy for him.
Chuckling his finger finally presses down onto your clit, moving it in small circles while pleasure shoots up your core. Your hand clamps itself onto his forearm, not trying to move it, just holding onto it while you gasp out into the open air.
âThatâs itttt, love it when your rival plays with your pussy hmmm?â his finger doesnât stop, just keeps circling your nub until youâre whining out. âJust put them in already, Hawks.â
He makes a thoughtful sound in the back of his throatâsomething between a hum and a groanâbefore he finally moves your panties aside and glides one finger through your slick folds. The feeling of the pads of his fingers directly on your skin has you arching into his touch, trying to chase his fingers even though he keeps sliding them through your folds.
One of his fingers finally slide inside your snug walls, warm and wet around him. It has you struggling to catch your breath. When was the last time you even got time to get yourself off? The feeling of his singular finger so much thicker than your own, eyes rolling to the back of your skull.
He slowly starts to pump in and out of your pussy, walls clinging onto him every time he tries to slide his finger out. Soon another one joins the first, stretching you out even further. Blunt nails dig themselves into his forearm, making him hiss out.
âF-feels so good,â you whimper out, careful not to be too noisy. There might not be anyone around, but if someone living in the apartments below, thereâs a possibility theyâd be able to hear you, and youâd rather not get caught getting fingered by your so-called rival.
His hips pick up pace behind you, still rutting against your ass like a damn animal in heat. Groans fall from his lips like an open faucet, never once stopping. He curls his fingers up while his thumb grazes your clit before it presses down onto itâadding all the more stimulation.
Trusting his fingers in and out a few times, he finally finds a spot that has you actively keen out, your other hand slapping itself over your mouth when he continues to attack your g-spot with his fingers. âF-fuck, please keep them there.â
Hawks just groans while his hips stutter behind you, fingers keeping their pace. Your thighs are starting to shake, knees buckling slightly. Suddenly thereâs a tug on your nipple, completely forgetting his hand was still on your breast, and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. âCumming, cummingâ oh shit.â
Your orgasm shoots through you, and itâs so much more powerful than ever before. At the same time his hips cease behind you, warmth seeping through his pants while he muffles a moan into your shoulder.
Itâs only when you catch your breath that you look at him from the corner of your eyes. âDid you just cum in your pants just by rutting yourself against my ass?â
His fingers slip from your heat, cunt clenching around nothing after his fingers retreat, when they come down with a quick slap to your clit. You jump slightly at the feeling, yelping while your head turns to the side to look at him.
âShut up,â his cheeks are blotched pink, not once daring to look you in the eye, confirming what you thought had happened. He eyes his hand, spreading his fingers slightly, looking at the way your arousal webs between his fingers before they snap!
Almost in a trance he pops his fingers in his mouth, lips wrapping around the digits while his tongue licks the wetness right off. He moans out at the taste, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his skull while he can feel his dick twitch to life in his pants again.
Your mouth falls open at the sight, so sinful it makes you all the more hornier. Without realising your hips are moving back, ass brushing against his hardening cock, which he gives a quick slap. He pulls his fingers out of his mouth, lips shiny with a mixture of spit and cum, having your eyes snap to them. âStill havenât had enough, thought you hated me?â
You roll your eyes at that, not bothering to confirm nor deny his accusations. Turning around your hand cups his member, palm pressing against it while you smile sweetly up at him. âCould say the same thing for you, Hawks.â
He growlsâactually growlsâat that, eyes narrowing down at you before his fingers make quick work of your pants. You unbuckle his belt, fingers fumbling slightly with how theyâre trembling, and you can only hope he doesnât see it.
He frees his cock from his underwear, mushroom tip angry red and shiny with cum. Giving it a few tugs he gets himself fully hard again. His other hand creeps down your thigh before he grabs just below your knee and hoists your leg up to put it around his waist. Your other feet shuffles around on the ground slightly, trying to find your balance again, while your hand shoots out to grab his shoulderâthis time careful not to touch anywhere near his wings.
âSure youâre ready for this?â he asks, fingers toying with your panties that are soaked through at this point, flimsy material doing nothing to hide your swollen folds.
âJust put it in already,â you roll your eyes at him, watching the way he once again pulls your panties to the side while he lines himself up. Thereâs anticipation and slight dread running through you now. Are you ready? Did he prep you enough? How are you even sure you can take him?
He glides his shaft through your folds a few times, skin getting shiny with your slick, when his tip rubs over your clit, shooting more pleasure through you. Itâs only when he glides over it once again that you feel itâsomething metal.
Dickhead has a dick piercing.
âBet your f-fangirls love that,â you whimper out, still eyeing the way heâs gliding through your folds, tip catching on your entrance only to move it up again, and again, and again. âHow many compliments did you geâfuuuckk.â
He doesnât let you finish your sentence, instead finally deciding to push inside. The stretch feel insane, walls clamping down immediately, tip pushing past that first ring of resistance. Tears immediately spring to your eyes, and your hand tightens on his shoulder.
âS-shit, ease up, dâ birdie,â he grunts out, not trying to push in any further. His hand comes down to your hip, thumb rubbing circles on your hip while he lets you adjust to the stretch. âYou always this t-tight, or is it just me who has that effect on you?â
âShut up,â you whine, not caring how you sound right now. You let your body slump to the wall behind you, sweat starting to collect at your nape again. Never in your life did you think it would feel like this. âY-you can move.â
Looking at you for a few more seconds he slowly inches in, the stretch torturous, and he isnât even half-way in yet. You claw at his shoulders, trying to find anything to hold onto while he was splitting you open.
âJust a few more inches,â he murmurs down at you withâis that concern? in his voice, thumb sliding from your hip to your clit, rubbing small figure eights on it to help you relax slightly. A few more inches? Looking down you see the way his skin is wrinkling at the base, and yup, he still had two more inches give or take left.
Once he finally bottoms out he lets his head fall forward, straight against your collarbone, breath hot even through the fabric. His tip is smooched against your cervix, and you can feel the two barbells of his piercing sit snug against your walls, even when he isnât moving.
Itâs a weird sensationâthe metal cool against your warm cunt, smooth surface rubbing you just right. After a few moment he finally pulls his hips backâjust slightlyâand thrusts back in. Itâs a shallow thrust, but it knocks the breath right out of your lungs.
âY-you always this weak when fucking your girls?â You shouldnât ask it, you donât even want to know his answer to it, but your mouth is moving before your brain can even catch up. Luckily for you he doesnât reply, only pulls out further before thrusting back in, making you moan out.
He sets a steady pace after that, hips pulling out halfway only to thrust back in, tip hitting your cervix each and every time, pre clinging to your walls. Moans and groans fill the air while the two of you are too lost in the pleasure to even taunt each other.
âF-fuck, pussy gripping onto meâshit look at thatâlike she doesnât want me to leave,â he groans out, eyeing the way your lips are wrapping around him every time he pulls out.
âMaybe she just wants you to cum so she can get away from you,â you mutter out, which he hears loud and clear. The stubs on his backs flutter slightly, not bothering to hide any reaction you pull out of him any longer.
His eyes narrow at you before his hand thatâs still rubbing circles stops. The pleasure dwindles slightly, only for him to set a more brutal pace, balls slapping against your ass while he pummels into your poor pussy.
âYeah? Well then maybeâ oh fuck⌠maybe I shouldnât get you off,â he changes his angle slightly, hiking your leg further up his waist before he starts pistoning his hips in and out of you, an audible squelch can be heard every time he bottoms out.
âDonât need youâthere, please there,â your eyes roll back while you babble out âpleaseâ and âthereâ over and over again. Your mouth falls open, high off ecstasy while Hawks keeps bullying your g-spot with lethal precision.
âThere, yeah? Fuck feel her clamping down on me. What was that⌠hahhh, about not needing me?â he grunts out while he can feel his abs start to tighten.
Your own hand comes down to your sensitive clit, rubbing circles on it while youâre incoherently babbling now, cock-drunk on the way heâs pummeling into your weeping hole. âGonnaââ you gasp out, before it cuts off with a choked cry. Your walls spasm around him while you get thrown into your second climax of the day, thighs trembling slightly.
âF-fuck,â he chokes out before he thrusts once more, hips stilling while he paints your entire walls white. His wings twitch and flex against his back, and youâre pretty sure you can see the left over feathers sharpen and soften against his back through your hazed-out mind.
The two of you stay like that for a while, just breathing in each otherâs presence, not daring to move. Itâs only when he pulls out with a hiss that you realise the situation. Looking down you see his seed bubble out of you, a bit of red mixed in the mess.
Hawks also sees it, looking down with concern at you. âShitâ fuck, are you okay?â
Rolling your eyes you let your leg fall from his hips, and your thigh almost immediately seizes up. Luckily you can deal with crampsâhaving been through enough training that this doesnât feel like anything anymoreâbut the foreign feeling of your pussy having been stretched out has you grit your teeth.
âThatâs your blood,â you mumble out, swiping your thumb on a cut just on his eyebrow. It leaves behind a trail of red, staining your finger in the crimson substance. Holding it up for him to see you just swallows and nods once.
Wiping it off on your uniform, you put your panties back in place, grimacing slightly when you feel the sticky substance ooze out of you. Pulling up your pants you pat everything down to see if you still have everything before straightening up.
Thereâs an awkward beat where the two of you just look at each other. And it finally sinks in what just happened. You fucked Hawks. Your ex-bestfriend, ex-lover, current rival. The one person you swore you would be done with.
Swallowing you quickly push yourself from the brick wall, finally noticing just how much your back hurts at the moment. Running your fingers through your hair you nod once towards the hero before you open the door and walk away from whatever all of this is.
And while you awkwardly walk down the stairsâgait off and your hole pulsing around nothingâyou know that youâre absolutely and utterly fucked.
The time after that moves weird. You hadnât seen anything of the crimson-winged hero while you stayed in Kyushu, only hearing people whisper about him in passing, but never once seeing that blur of red move through the sky.
You know somewhere deep down that heâs avoiding you, and youâre honestly doing the same. The night in the safehouse after what happened made you unable to sleep, eyes blinking up at that same industrial gray youâve seen your entire life, and for just a momentâjust oneâyou could feel him beside you on that bed. Only this bed was bigger than the one you had for twelve years.
When you closed your eyes you could feel the way his breath would ghost your skin while laying beside you, his wing flopped over you like a soft, unique blanket that sometimes twitched whenever either of the two of you moved.
Could still feel the way he would trace soft patterns over your arms when he thought youâd fallen asleep before he was out of the room. Could still feel the gentleness in his gazze whenever he looked at you.
But when you opened your eyes you were met by silence. No soft whisper of feathers ruffling or the soft breathing pattern he always had around youâsomething that had been trained into the two of you. There was still that small electral buzz you were familiar with, but it made your heart only do more complicated flips.
It was like you were suddenly thrown back to when you were seventeen years old and got told that the two of you shouldnât see each other anymore.
And just like then, you have a feather in your hand. Soft, white, and itchy. Not the crimson, alive feather you used to wear like a shield. Like a promise etched onto your skin. But rather just a dead feather from god-knows-where.
It droops to the side sadly, like itâs reminding you that this isnât what you were familiar with for half your life. But still you put it on your chest and begin talking to it like it can respond. The stories are quite silly, and you would never actually say all of these things out loudâwhen youâd done grocery shopping online, the latest villain arrest, a short story about how your sidekick had put soap in the food instead of olive oil.
Youâre gesturing around the room wildly, a small smile on your face while your eyes are closed. Itâs easier that way, telling stories to a feather that canât respond. But for a moment you just let yourself believe it can. Let yourself believe that youâre seventeen years old again and that youâre ranting to your friend.
The golden-eyed boy across the hall that always looked like you were more than the weapon they were trying to make you out to be. The one who you shared secret glances and giggles with. The one who put a warm hand over your stomach whenever your cramps got too much, but the handlers just kept pushing you to do more more more.
And when you open your eyes, thereâs a slight part in your heart that yearns to see that red feather hovering in front of your eyes. But youâre met with air. The white feather still laying on your chest, not moving an inch from where you last put it.
A tear slides down your face before you can stop it. Quickly wiping it away you chuckle into the empty room. No one can hear you, after all, so why would you care?
Thereâs a slight throbbing between your legs, soreness running through your musclesâan type of sore youâve never been before, and it scares you slightlyâwhile thereâs no one to tell you itâs okay.
Rolling over you look at the empty spot beside you in the bed. Itâs cold and pristine, not a wrinkle in sight. How many times have you imagined there to be someone beside you? Itâs honestly too many to count, and you canât help but let another tear slide down your face.
Thereâs a slight discontent in your heart that tells you that after today heâll never even look at you anymore. That this will be just like what happened seven years ago, where he told you the two of you couldnât be together and walked out of your life.
You had this silly competition, chasing after numbers the two of you knew didnât matter. While other heroes yearn to be in the top 10, the two of you treated it as an game to one-up one another. Taunting the other with whoever has the higher rank that year.
That was the only time you talked to him, honestly. The annual Japanese Hero Billboard Chart. One of the only times youâd see him in real life instead of on a screen with an update on his latest endeavor.
And somewhere deep down you know that even that will cease to exist after today. The silly competition will be over, no more trying to get more popular, but rather just actually focusing on what the two of you areâheroes.
You grab your pillow, squeezing it to your chest. Of course you had to fuck it up once more.
The pillow feels to hard. Too many feathers stuffed into the thing, and without thinking about it you rip it open, hundreds of little feathers spilling from the casing. Sitting up you look around the room knowing that each safehouse had a small kit with a thread and needle stored somewhere.
Searching around for it, you find it under the sink. Sitting on the bed once moreâa few feathers poking you in the butt and your legsâyou get to work.
Hours pass, the dark night sky changing to the soft break of dawn that paints the entire sky hues of orange, to daylight where the sun is shining onto the sealed windows.
Your hands are cramping and bleeding slightly, small spots of red against the stark white feathers that make you just wanna cut your hand open to stain them red entirelyâsomething you decide against when you repeat it in your head.
When you finally lay down the thread and needle you look up at your nightstand. Itâs just past twelve in the afternoon, which gives you plenty of time to still get ready for the mission. Scrubbing a hand over your face you look down onto the bed.
An entire sheet of feathers lay there, neatly sown together in something that resembles the form of a wing. The entire thing is soft and way too itchy, but you still run your hands through it, hoping that one of them would twitch.
They never do.
Leaning your body back you look over at the wall, just⌠staring at it for a good few minutes. Since when were you so lonely that you had to sow together a whole feather blanket just to be reminded of when you were younger?
A small chuckle escapes your lips. Hollow and heartbroken. Of course, of course you would go ahead and fuck him after what happened when you kissed him last time.
Hands shaking you put the feather blanket over your legs, trying to feel the warmth in themâbut they are too different. Even your brain knows this isnât what you want, but itâs the closest what you can get. Sighing you get up to get ready for the day.
The mission comes before anything and everything else.
After that night you havenât been able to focus, quickly losing sleep and some of your popularity considering you havenât been doing that good of a job interacting with your fans. You were short and snappy with them sometimes, almost like a bird thatâs being cornered into a cage.
Your number two rankâbecause you did get to two after that saveâquickly dropped to four over the span of mere weeks. Tabloids printing out more and more articles about you. Speculations, your latest mishap, you name it and itâs there.
And of course wherever your name went, his was not far behind. Hawks, the number two hero, charming his way with the ladies once more. His ruby studs catching the light just right in the latest picture, and you know his magpie brain loves to see it.
Clicking the screen off you let yourself fall backward. This isnât what you wanted, not even close. And just like you expected, thereâs no more real competition. But maybe thatâs also because youâre not letting there be competition.
The Commission has been on your ass about your latest endeavors, scolding you and even putting cameras inside of your own agency, just so they can keep track of what youâre doing in there.
Your sidekicks have been eyeing you carefully, but you just smile at them and tell them everything is fine. Because it is, isnât it?
No matter how much time passes, every time you get homeâif you even get the time to go back to your own apartment, nothing Commission ownedâyou look in the almost-empty closet and fish out the little feather blanket you made weeks ago.
Every time you canât sleep, you lay it over you, just to try and trick your brain that everything will be okay, even when it will never be again.
The Hero Billboard Chart that year felt brutal. You fell down the rankingsânow the number five heroâwhile Hawks was at his number two spot. Itâs been the first time in years since the two of you didnât stand next to each other. And oh boy, didnât people have their opinions about it.
Thereâs speculation, children and adults alike screaming at the two of you asking if something happened. Others are more bold and ask if the two of you had a falling out of sorts. And of course there are the shippers who are making sad edits about you and Hawks, compiling every picture the two of you are in together to throw a sad song over it while unrelated pictures get used.
Itâs honestly⌠something. Never in a million years would you have thought that people cared like to this extent. The two of you werenât that close. Not in the publicâs eye anyway, and no one knows about the history you have with the birdbrain.
So why is everyone always trying to get you two together anyway? Is it because you two debuted at the same time and rose the rankings together? Or do they see something deeper you yourself are refusing to admit?
Whatever it is, it doesnât matter, because the HPSC is once again calling a meeting. Walking in you see that one face you were dreading to see, but you canât just walk back out. Steeling your face you go to sit down at the long table thatâs filled with people in business suits.
The meeting drones on and on. Beginning with reprimanding you for losing rank so fast. Rolling your eyes you let them talk about how they are going to rectify things, as if being the number five isnât good enough.
A pawn. Thatâs still all you are to these people. Just a little piece on a much bigger board they can use any time they want. Same goes for the crimson-winged hero across from you. Heâs leaning back, arms behind his head while he leans back.
Thereâs a beat of silence before your handler finally speaks up. âThe two of you will do an ad together. Just to show everyone thereâs no bad blood.â
That makes you freeze up slightly, hairs standing on end like someone threw a cold bucket of water over you. The blond across from you also halts for half a secondâone youâre sure everyone around the table sawâbefore he smiles, big and bright.
âAnd what would this ad be?â he almost purrs across the table, canines on full display while he sits up a little straighter. The lax position from minutes ago disappearing completely.
The handler looks you over for a second, then him, then looks down at the tablet, just to create a little suspense. You know she knows what the ad is about, everyone here, except for you and Hawks do. They never call in a meeting without being prepared to the max.
âItâs an underwear ad. They want to advertise their new matching setsâfor partners. The two of you can do that, right?â
Of course. Of course they would throw you in the deep end like this. It isnât even just the fact that you have to do an ad with him, but the forced close proximity and underwear. Fucking great. Across from you Hawksâ eyebrows shoot up.
âAn underwear ad,â he echoes, dragging every syllable like heâs chewing on taffy and trying to figure out how to get it out of his mouth. âFor couples.â
Everyone at the table looks at him before his own handler smiles, cold and devoid of any emotion. âThe two of you can do that, right? Show the world thereâs no bad blood like they think there is. Just two heroes who are competing to be the better hero.â
You nod slowly, mechanically. Thereâs no saying no to this, and he knows it as well. His golden eyes flit over to yours, and for the first time in forever you can see a glint of emotion in there. Itâs gone as quick as it came, but you swear there was some relief in there.
Which is why youâre here now, two weeks later in a warehouse that doubles as the set. There are people everywhere around you. Two are working on your body, lotioning it up so it looks good in the lightingâor whatever they said, you werenât really listening to begin with to be completely honestâwhile there are another two people working on your hair and makeup.
The underwear is plain. A little heart cut out on your assânothing scandalous, just something cuteâwhile there is a little bow on the front. Your bra also has a cute little bow at the front, tits sitting snug in it, and itâs honestly cute.
You can hear the assistants whisper to each other about everything and anything, but most of the time yours and Hawksâ name fall from their lips. Straining your ears you can just about hear what theyâre sayingâHeâs adorableâ âadorable? heâs so hot.â âI think I like her moreâ âFine then, more for meâ.
Theyâre giggling as if you canât hear what theyâre saying, and if you can hear it, youâre certain he can, too.Speaking of, looking in the mirror you can see him walk up and lean against the doorframe, arms over his chest, biceps bulging.
Heâs in nothing but boxers, and you have to keep your eyes up to not ogle him. Lean frame gotten a bit more defined over the years, but nothing extreme. He has to be able to fly, after all, and it would be more difficult if he was on the bigger side.
The stylist puts on some lipgloss before she steps away with an watchful eye. Once she determines everything is fine she nods at you to go stand up. Walking over to the guy who fills every room without even tryingâthough his wings certainly had something to do with thatâyou stop just short in front of him.
He lets his eyes rake over you, stopping just slightly when he sees the cute bow before he whistles. Low and sharp. A catcall if you ever heard one. Your hand shoots up and hits him on the back of his head, a small little flick of your wrist.
Thereâs a small, sharp sting on the back of his head. Not hurting him enough to complain, but enough to get him back into the present. The two of you are not alone, and when he looks around, he can see almost every eye on the two of you.
Right. Just an ad campaign and not just the two of you.
âReady?â he murmurs, pushing himself upright before stepping aside slightly. You roll your eyes at him before pushing past him to make your way to the set. He flicks two fingers into the air to everyone in the dressing room before he turns to follow you. And, ohâoh now thatâs unfair. The little heart cutout has his eyes drawn to it.
Itâs cute, small enough to be inconspicuous, but enough for him to notice. And notice he does. His feathers bristle slightly before he has to calm them down. Memories of months ago filling his head. You pushed to the brick wall, your warm, wet walls clamping down on his fingers, on his dickâshit.
He flexes his arms in hopes to get the blood rushing to there instead of down there. And he already knows this is going to be a long day.
The director is absolutely delighted when he sees the two of you walk in, immediately shaking your hands and thanking the two of you for coming, since he knows how busy hero work is. Heâs absolutely beaming when you start talking a bit more, but then remembers he has to actually put the two of you in positions for the shoot.
It starts out with Keigo sitting down, muscled thighs spread oud, and you have to perch on his lap. Of fucking course. This is a couples ad, after all. But that didnât mean you werenât hoping it wouldnât be like this.
Still the shoot goes on, running through multiple poses. Sitting on his lap, standing in front of each other, standing in front of him while you were with your back turned toward the camera, one of his hands on you waist, which slid lower lower lower, until he was grabbing your assâwhich the director absolutely loved to see.
âMake it more sensual.â âGood, good, look each other in the eyes like you mean in.â âOh, yes yes that! thatâs it!â âPut your hand on his chestâthere we goo.â âThis is looking good guys.â âOkay now I just need something that shows off the front. Ohhh thatâs good!â
He was⌠energetic to say the least.
By the time the two of you are done with the shootâhaving had solo shots done as wellâitâs already late at night. Most of the people have packed up already with a promise to go to dinner together, while there are still a few people walking around.
Youâre in your dressing room removing your makeup when the door opens. Looking up through the mirror you can see Hawks leaned against the door, crimson wings spread open slightly while his arms are over his chest. Still in just his underwearâsame as you.
Youâre not sure what happened next. One minute he was talking to youâtaunting you, reallyâand the next the two of you are stumbling to the couch, fingers groping and touching everywhere your eyes can see.
Youâre laying on your back, hair splayed out underneath you while Hawks stands over you, teeth in the wrapper of the rubber that heâ âWhere did you even get that from?â He walked in here in just his boxers, so unless he was hiding it in there you have no idea where he got it from.
âSent a feather to retreat one from my wallet,â he chuckles before he drops the last piece of clothing, dick springing free and hitting his bellybutton. Heâs already hard and leaking for youâa sight you cannot get used toâand the soft amber lighting of the mirror shows you the two barbells just under his tip.
Fuck, if that isnât hot. Your thighs squeeze together while you feel yourself start to soak through your underwear, white fabric almost turning translucent, sticking to your folds that leaves nothing up to the imagination.
Rolling the condom on he positions himself between your legs, hand at his base tapping his tip on your clit over the fabric a few times. Each tap has your thighs jolt, almost clamping them shut before you feel multiple feathers on them, keeping you nice and spread for him.
âYou always like to tease this much orâ or are you trying to keep me here longer?â you ask him through your teeth, annoyance dripping from your voice. It just makes him chuckle, golden eyes trained on where you were dripping for him. âHmm, just wanna get you nice ân wet for me, but seems like I donât have to do much, do I?
You roll your eyes at the statement. Itâs not like heâs wrong, though. Thereâs no hiding it, either, not with the way your spread out for him.
He finally takes your panties off, hooking his slender fingers into the waistband before he lets it snap against your skin once, having you jolt out, before he finally takes them off. He looks down at the way youâre spread open for himâwet slit spread open for him with the way his feathers are keeping you open, and he canât help but pry your lips open ever further with his thumbs.
Your hole clenches around nothing, more arousal dripping out of you and down the couch. Heâs just staring for a few seconds, pupils blown out at the sight, and it wouldâve made you chuckleâtaunt him about hypnotizing him with your pussyâif it wasnât for him putting his thumb in your weeping hole.
âFuck, Hawks. Wanted your cock,â you mewl out when he slowly moves his finger in and out of you, totally transfixed on the way youâre swallowing him whole. âSeriously, just g-get this over with.â
You grab the base of his cock, manicured fingers wrapping around the appendage, before you move it over your slit, head bumping your already-sensitive clit. That finally snaps him out of it, retreating his thumb from your snug walls with a pop!
Positioning him at your entrance, he finally moves his hips, pushing in slowly. The stretch is still overwhelming. Leaning down his teeth sink into the fabric of your bra before he pulls it down just enough to bunch under your tits. Your nipples pebble immediately after they get exposed to the cold air, which just makes him groan before wrapping his lips around one of them.
The dual sensation has you mewling out, hands finding purchase on his back, fingers skimming the base of his wings making them arch out, the red plumes the only thing you can see right now. He whimpers at the sensation, feathers bristling slightly before he folds them back in.
His cock throbs inside of you once he bottoms out, flushed head steadily dripping more pre. The feeling of the rubber is different, the layer between your walls and his flushed cock has you whining out. The little barbell also feels weird, not like last time.
âStop clenchingâ fucking hell⌠like that,â his hand smacks your thigh, aa sharp sting running up your thigh and straight to your core, having the exact opposite reaction he wantedâwalls clenching down on him further.
âJust move already,â you moan out when his tongue flicks over your nipple, still waiting for him to move. His hips start to move, pulling them back he thrusts forward again. A deep and brutal thrust that has you clawing at his back, leaving behind angry, red marks. The red that matches his wings.
Your hips move in tandem with his, skin slapping against skin, heavy balls hitting your ass while his mouth finally finds your other tit, peppering it with kisses and bites. âSo good for me, love it when I fuck you, donâtcha?â he murmurs against your skin.
Your legs wrap around his waist before you flip the two of you around, his body hitting the couch with an âoomfâ. Straddling him you grab him at the base before sinking down on his girth, weeping hole swallowing him greedily. âHate you. Hate you so much.â
His hands come down to your hips, helping you move up and down his cock. His eyes are transfixed on where the two of you are connected, lips stretching around him. âYeah, hate me? That why youâre bouncing on my cock right now?â
His thumb presses onto your clit while two of his feathers come down to play with your nipplesâfeather-soft brushes against your skin making you keen out into the air, not caring who could possibly walk by and hear the two of you.
âT-this doesnât mean anything,â you moan out, ass slapping against his thick thighs with each fall of your hips. Your pace slowly dwindles down, hips not lifting as far up as they did before, which is a wrong move because Hawks tightens his hold onto your plush hips and starts moving you.
âCâmon now, birdie. Wanted to ride me so. ride. me.â he slams you down with each word, tip hitting your cervix every time he bottoms out. You throw your head back at the feeling, back arching to the point where your tits are basically smothering him. Not that he cares though, he just happily groans while licking off the sweat thatâs beading down the valley of your breasts.
âYouâreâshitâdirty,â is all you can get out while heâs bruising your walls, fingers digging into your flesh in a way that you know will leave behind marks the next day. Luckily your hero suit covers it, because otherwise people would definitely know what happened.
Your thighs are starting to strain, knot in your stomach coiling deeper and deeper until it finally snaps. Body trembling above his, walls constricting around him. âShitâ tryna milk me even when you know you canât get filled?â
He holds your body against him while he plants his feet on the ground. Pummeling his hips into yours, he chases after his own orgasm. Youâre whining out at the overstimulation, hips writhing above him trying to get away from the feeling, only for him to lock his arms around your waist, keeping you still for him.
With a groan he finally cums, rubber preventing you from feeling him fill you up. The only sounds filling the room is the two of you greedily gulping in some air, and his feathers twitching against his backâpuffing up slightly with affection before they go down again.
Thatâs the way the two of you begin this⌠arrangement of sorts.
Instead of taunting about rankings, the two of you began doing⌠favors for each other. He ate you out after you shot up the rankings again, and you sucked him off when he was still the number twoâabove your rankingâthe next year.
You can still remember the way he was teasing you about sounding hoarse during patrol. Your throat was constricting around him a mere ten minutes before you had to go out, so there was no time to even look for something to soothe your throat.
And then you had the times where he came over just to take his frustrations out on you, hips pummeling into your ass from behind, grunting about how overworked the two of you were. The Commission still on both your asses, giving you assignment after assignment.
Your ass was red and swollen by the time he was done, puffy cunt absolutely abused while he watched his cum drip out of you only for him to lick it out of there mere seconds later.
Sometimes he came inside of you, other times he pulled out just in time, painting your skin with ropes of white, rubber having been ditched after your third time together. You were whining about not being able to feel him, telling him that you were on the pill so he couldnât get you pregnant anywayâthank you Commission for doing something good for once.
Which is leads you to today, youâre laid out on a bed. Not the small beds the two of you had in the safehouses, nor the couches backstage somewhere or the rough bricks scratching against your back whenever the two of you find yourselves outside again. No this is Hawksâ bed, massive, just to comfortably fit his wings onto.
Heâs pounding into your poor, overstimulated pussy. His hips coming down to grind against you before he pulls back and slams back in. The headboard is hit hit hitting the wall behind you, luckily for the two of you he lives in the penthouse, so there will be no noise complaints.
âFucking hate them,â he grunts while sweat is beading down his temple, wings spread out behind him in a brilliant, crimson arc. Your fingers are clawing at his biceps while he continues his rant. âNo, Hawks, it isnât enough. Nothing you ever do is enough. Weâll just keep on sending you on missions, because thatâs why youâre here. To be a hero means to sacrifice,â he mocks one of the handlers.
Itâs not often that he reaches out to you, much less when he actually calls you over. Hell, this has been the first time you were even in his apartment, and you had no time to actually admire the place before he had you pinned to the wall already.
Sinking to his knees he muttered out a, need this. need this pussy to suffocate me. before he all but yanked your shorts and panties down in one, swift movement. His lips immediately latched onto your sensitive nub, making your hand fly to his hair while your head thunked! onto the wall behind you.
âFucking hell, whatâs gotten into you?â you asked him through a moan. While heâs eaten you out before, he was never this desperate to get his handsâor in this case lipsâon you. It was always filled with teasing and taunting remarks. But this time he just groaned into your mound like it was the answer to all of his questions. âSeriously, Hawks⌠what happened?â
Youâre pulling on his hair trying to get him to at least acknowledge you, but all it did was make him whimper out into your slit while his wings shuddered behind him. Well guess you found out something new about him.
âCommission was on my ass,â he mumbles through licks, his tongue flitting over your clit while one of his hand is groping your ass like it was his personal stress-ball. âFuck you taste so sweet.â
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, hips starting to grind down onto his face while he plunged his tongue inside of you, wiggling the muscle around into your tight walls. âWant me t-to talk about it?â you breathed out, swinging one leg over his shoulderâcareful not to pin his wing to his backâto give him more access to your slit, which he happily takes, pressing his mouth further into your pussy.
âJusâ need you right now,â he grunted out, continuing to eat you out. It was messy, spit dribbling past the corners of his mouth while the lower part of his face was shiny with your arousal. âPussy loves me, doesnât she?â
You couldnât answer that, too busy trying to focus on your upcoming orgasm to even think of responding to him talking to your pussy like it was alive instead of just an organ. Gripping his hair even tighter you began gyrating your hips down onto his face which he happily let you, groaning out while he angled his face so his nose would nudge your clit with each roll of your hips.
Once you came on his faceâthighs trembling, tummy clenching, moans flowing free out of youâhe dragged you to the bed where he took no time to slide into you. Youâre still not used to the way he stretches you out, despite it having been years since you first began fucking him.
Heâd filled you up once already while youâve cum three times, weeping pussy sensitive to each roll of his hips, and you can feel your stomach starting to tighten once more.
âHavenât I sacrificed enough already?â Heâs still talking, still asking rhetorical questions that you could answerâthat you would answer if he wasnât pounding you into oblivionâbut all you can do is moan out at him. âD-did everything for them.â
Nodding your head you run your hand through his hair, trying to soothe him slightly, but you just tighten your grip once he finds that spongy spot inside of you again, bullying it when he realises heâs found your g-spot once again.
âF-fuck, Hawks. Wait. Feels weird,â youâre trying to get him to slow down, to get that weird feeling building up in your lower stomach to go away, only for him to continue babbling about the Commission and how they ruined his life. If you werenât so busy youâd give your two cents on it, but you canât. Legs starting to tremble around his waist while your toes curl.
He presses his thumb to your clit, and that does it. Your orgasm crashes into you like a lighting strike. Clear liquid gushing out of you and onto Hawksâ abs, thighs, balls and bedsheets. Your hands tighten in the sheets beside you while you sob out his name. âFuck, Keigoâ Kei. Pleasepleaseplease. Love youâ shit.â
That makes him still. Just completely still against you. You donât notice, though, too busy riding out your orgasm to even see the way his eyes are wide open, mouth agape. The pleasure shooting through you has you crying, tears rolling down your cheeks and disappearing into the pillows below you.
âWhat did you just say?â His voice is so small, unlike his normal, cocky self that you finally open your eyes. Blinking a few times you note the way heâs hunched over you right now, a few feathers suspended in the air while his golden eyes look at you like youâre made of glass. He says your nameânot birdie, not dove, not your hero name, just your actual name. The one you havenât heard in years.
âSay it again,â he breathes out, almost begging you. âPlease.â
Gulping you look at those golden eyes youâve seen your entire life, the ones that always meant that you were safe. The ones youâve hoped to see beside you every day, but got taken away from you when you were a mere seventeen years old.
âI love you,â you murmur, trying to gauge his reaction. The next second his mouth crashed onto yours, plump lips groaning out after he finally tasted you. Itâs been ten years. Ten years since the two of you last kissed. You two hadnât kissed even once after debuting, despite the two of you having been fuck-buddies for years.
Itâs filled with warmth and lust, his tongue clashing against yours while you drink up all of his sounds. The wings on his back unfurl and furl back in, almost as if he has no control over whatâs happening to them.
âLove you, love you, love you,â he mumbles out against your lips while slowly starting to trust back inside again. The overstimulation has you keening out, but you just wrap your legs further around his waist while pulling him back in. âMine, all mine.â
His pace picks up, hips snapping against yours once more. One of his hands gropes your breast while the other squeezes your waist, pulling you down to meet every thrust.
Your body is completely pliant against his, bones feeling like jelly with the way heâs made you cum multiple times already. The last sunrays catch your eyes, and it has him gasping out. You look like an angel beneath himâhis angel.
He spills inside you not soon after, a second load filling you up. And you coax him through it, hands running through his hair while his lips latch onto your throat.
You thought heâd be done now, but you can feel him twitch inside of you. âAre you still hard?â you whisper, incredulous.
Keigo merely smiles down at you before he pulls out of you, his thick seed immediately bubbling out of you. He gives you no time to even realise whatâs going on, picking you up into his arms and setting you down in front of the big window that overlooks the city.
Your body tilts forward, tits pressing against the cool glass while you turn your head to the side to look at the man behind you. âWhat are you doing?â
âGonna show everyone youâre mine,â he growls before nudging your knees apart and slips back inside. Your mouth falls open when he starts moving again, the cool glass a stark contrast to your overheating body.
The streets below are still busy, and if someone were to look up they would be able to see the number two absolutely railing the number three hero. Your nipples brush against the smooth surface, adding all the more pleasure to your core.
Inner thighs are slick with a mixture of your and his cum, and you can see him in the reflection of the glass. The crimson almost getting swallowed by the burnt-sienna of the sky outside, but his eyes are transfixed on you. He chuckles when he feels you clench down onto him, walls fluttering uselessly around him. âYou like the thought of people seeing you like this?â he murmurs into your ear, breath warm against the shell.
Your hips move back against him, knees weak with the way he knocks you forward with each thrust. Wrapping his arm around you, he lifts you up, feet dangling uselessly above the ground. You gasp out at thatâat him using your body like you were merely a doll he could just pick up whenever he wanted.
âShitâ Keigo,â you whine out his name, forehead thumping against the glass, eyes fluttering close when that piercing passes over your sweet-spot with each pass of his hips. Nails leaving angry indents into his forearm.
âI know, dove. I know,â he murmurs against your cheek, he pounds into you from behind like a man possessed. âLet go for me. Show me how much you want me.â
Your eyes roll to the back of your skull, mouth opening in a broken moan that sounds so unlike you. White-hot pleasure shoots through your core, whitening out your vision for what feels like an eternity.
Keigo is not far behind, hips snapping against your ass like a punctuation. âS-shit, trying to milk me for all Iâm worth.â
He spills into you for the last time that night. Hips ceasing their ministrations completely, his sweaty chest pressed flush against your back. Letting your head loll back against his shoulder you look at him, tired eyes blinking over his form.
Heâs flushed from his face down all the way to his chest. Sweat beads down his body and heâs panting against your neck. His hair is plastered to his forehead, eyes blown out wide.
Moving the two of you back to the bed, he carefully lays you down before walking away, only to return with a washcloth seconds later. He carefully opens your thighs for him and begins to clean you up. You trash slightly at the sensation. âI know, dovey. Will be over soon.â
He throws the washcloth somewhere to the ground, and it lands with a wet schlap! somewhere in the corner of his bedroomâsomething youâll probably reprimand him for when you have more energy, but right now you couldnât care less.
Shuffling into the bed, he pulls you to his chest. One of his wings wraps itself around youâjust like old times. It takes you right back to that too-small bed where the two of you would talk into the late hours of the night.
Feathers are twitching against your skin as if trying to kiss your entire body. It makes you relax, body sinking more into his chest while he traces small shapes in your skin.
âThat was⌠a lot,â you mumble out, not quite sure if you should even address it, but you canât stay silent any longer. The way he said your name, told you he loved you, gave you your old nickname back. It was, quite frankly, a lot. And even if that all didnât happen, he also made you squirt for the first time. The memory has you flushing bright red.
âMhmm, nothing I said was untrue, though,â he mumbles out into your hair, pressing his lips feather-soft against the crown of your head. It has you closing your eyes for a few seconds before opening them again.
âWhy did you even leave in the first place, Kei?â Itâs been bothering you ever since he walked out of that room. The way he was so fidgety, no longer wanting anything to do with you when the two of you only had a few more months before the debut. A few more months and the two of you couldâve just stopped sneaking around.
You can feel him lean back a little, head angled down before his fingers find you chin and nudges your head up so he can look at you. âWhat are you talking about, dove? Youâre the one who told me that we couldnât be together.â
Furrowing your brows you look at the golden eyes youâve known your whole life. Shifting slightlyâand hissing when you accidentally rub yourself against his thighâyou sit up a little, just enough to look at him.
âNo, no. You came into my room telling me it couldnât work any longer,â you start, eyes darting around his face, confusion settling over you. You can still remember that night vividly, and it was him who broke it off with you. âSaid you didnât have feelings for me and then just⌠walked out.â
âNow why would I do that when Iâve been in love with you for all of my life?â He asks you, bushy brows furrowed together. Thereâs a slight crease between them, and you want to rub it away, but youâre still racking your brain.
He continues, voice lower now, more sad, âI came back from that horribly long assignment and you were waiting for me on my bed. At first you were just⌠quiet. Then you told me that it was a mistake and that it was just the proximity that had made you kiss me.â
You chuckle at that, hollow and sad all at once. âJust the proximity? Keigo Iâve liked you ever since I realised what it meant to have a crush on someone.â
He just purses his lips at that, not moving an inch. The feathers that are still on your back twitch a few times, a shudder going through them that he doesnât bother to stop.
âThen why would youââ he trails off, golden eyes almost bulging out of his skull with realisation. âThe Commission.â
âWait, what?â Youâre confused now. What does the Commission have to do with any of this? It was just you two that knew about everything, the Commission has never even known that you and Keigo even knew each other outside of any assignments.
âThink about it, dove. Youâre saying it was me who broke it of, Iâm saying it was youââ
âI never broke up with you. God I was so heartbroken.â
ââand neither of us is saying we did that. Hell, weâre both saying we wanted to be together. So what else could it have been? You know how the Commission is, they could get their hands on any quirk user, and I would bet thereâs someone who could shapeshift, or something like that.â
Youâre still looking at him, mind racing now. You honestly canât believe neither of you thought about this earlier, but then again the two of you didnât really talk. Just played stupid games to be close to each other.
âThe feather,â you finally breathe out, fingers ghosting over your ribs where he always put the small feather. The one youâve been missing on your skin for years. âIt didnât float when I threw it back at you. It just⌠fell to the floor. And âyouâ picked it up. Picked it up.â
How could you have missed itâthat small detail that would tell you something was wrong. Sure he was acting strange, not letting you touch him and just being twitchy in general, but his feathers were the dead giveaway. They never could quite hide everything he wanted to, despite having been trained for years.
How did it never occur to you that he had telepathic feathers and he picked it off the floor rather than just bringing it toward himself.
âYou gave that feather back,â he murmurs, his own thumb coming to your ribs. Then a small, sad chuckle falls from his lips. âEven after all the training weâve had, we still got outsmarted by the suits. Purely because we couldnât see past our emotions.â
Tears spring to your eyes, because itâs true, isnât it? You let the emotions get the better of you, throwing out the small feather that could have solved everything. What wouldâve happened if you never threw it back at âhimâ in that fit of anger? Would the two of you still have been best friends? More than best friends? Or would he not have believed you?
âHow did they even find out about it?â you whisper. His thumb comes up and wipes away some of the tears that are gathering on your waterline, the action so soft compared to how he used your body mere minutes ago. âWeâve never gotten caught in twelve years.â
âMustâve been the supply closet,â he answers, pulling you back to lay on his chest. âMaybe they realised that us walking back took longer than needed.â
And how stupid could the two of you have been? Of course they would know how long it takes for the two of you to walk backâespecially considering Keigo had left before you and went out of the supply closet after you.
Thatâs the exact thing the two of you were trained on noticing, patterns and behaviours. Yet it didnât occur in your minds that they would be using it as well. Didnât think about much but him at that moment, to be completely honest.
âCanât believe secret kisses in a supply closet is what has gotten us caught,â you groan out into his chest, the words slightly muffled. And he laughs at that, a small breath through his nose that rattles his chest. âAt least you were my first everything.â
âWait what?â He looks down at you, looks at the way youâre burrowing yourself further into his chest, trying to find his warmth. His wing instinctively tightens around you, feathers whispering against your skin from where theyâre puffing up slightly. âYou mean to tell me that time on the rooftop was your first time, too?â
You hum slightly, a small, drowsy thing that comes deep from your throat. His words still have to catch up with your brain, but when they finally register your head snaps up. âWhat do you mean, too?â
âI never fucked anyone beside you,â he says, not even a tremble can be found in his voice. Looking at him for a little while longer, you let a small chuckle escape your lips. He never fucked anyone else?
âThen why do you have a piercing there?â Your leg shifts slightly over him, making him groan out, wing tightening a fraction. He grabs your leg with one hand, halting your movement, because he can already feel blood rush south againâway too sensitive from the multiple rounds the two of you had earlier.
âGot it so I could jerk off fasterâwhy are you laughing, you out of all people should know that we donât get any time to get any release. Especially with the way the Commission keeps throwing more and more missions at us.â
âItâs just⌠I thought you had fucked half the population here in Fukuoka City, and here you are telling me you were a virgin and just got a dick piercing to make yourself more sensitive?â
Itâs ridiculous, honestly. And everything makes senseâthe way he would never respond to your taunts about other girls, just like you wouldnât respond to any of his taunts since you wouldnât just tell him he was the one to take your virginity.
âGuess we have a lot of catching up to do, love.â There it is again, that nickname. Not a slip of the tongue as you thought it was ten years ago. He really did call you âloveâ back then.
Your eyes close against your will, body finally going boneless against him. âMhmm, but first we should go to sleep.â
âI donât care what we do as long as I have you beside me,â he murmurs out against your skin, lips brushing your templeâfeather-light, almost like it was never there to begin with.
You donât know whatâll happen tomorrow. All you know is that you got the boy you loved back and that this time nothing will come between the two of you.
ŠCursedKisss do not copy, steal, plagiarize, or feed my works into AI. I will send Shigaraki after you if you do.
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The Heart Cracks Before it Shatters (Pt6) â・°⊠Bakugou Katsuki
Masterlist ŕ¨ŕ§ pt1 pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 pt5.5
The finale : Nothing is ever easy.
.⚠°Ęâɰ.ââ.⚠°Ęâɰ.ââ.⚠°Ęâɰ.ââ.⚠°Ęâɰ.â
Glitter đ 𦯠: guys dont shout at me i know im one day late. BUT SHES DONE! I cant believe it honestly. this has been such a whirlwind and im lowkey said its over. but I hope you will all stay with me for future projects! yay!
Warnings : SUGGESTIVNESS AT A POINT (nothing explict but still) Angsty, Female!Reader, Reader is a wife, Reader has children, bakugou is very sad, agruments, swearing, sadness, aged up characters, childern, babies.
W/C : 6.9k
.⚠°Ęâɰ.ââ.⚠°Ęâɰ.ââ.⚠°Ęâɰ.ââ.⚠°Ęâɰ.ââ
While the rush of determination felt good in the moment, now, standing outside Katsukiâs office, itâs settled into something closer to pure nerves.
You had a plan. A simple one, really. Step one: show your husband you miss him. Step two: admit youâve both made mistakes. Step three: figure out how the hell to move forward without wrecking each other in the process. It sounded solid enough when you wrote it out in your notes appâthree times, actuallyâbut putting it into action? Yeah. Not as easy as it looked on screen.
The first time you tried was when you were dropping the kids off. For the past two weeks, it had been a no-talking, no-eye-contact type of handoff. You stayed in the house, watched Riko do all the work, carrying her sisterâs bags and lugging Koharu to the door while you kept your distance. So, you figured attempt number one was simple enoughâstep in, carry your own kid out to the car, like you probably shouldâve been doing this whole time.
So, you took some deep breaths, took Korahu from her sister's hand (paired with a weird look from the older sister) and ushered the girls to the door.Â
Katsuki was there, like always. Leaning against his car, looking tired. Sad, too. But still stupidly handsome, which pissed you off more than youâd admit. The second the door opened and he saw you standing there, his whole body snapped to attention. His eyes widened a little, his shoulders squared up, like he wasnât sure what to do but he was sure as hell going to do something.
It was almost funny. Almost.
He didnât say anything, but he met you halfway. Took Rikoâs bag without asking. Looking at Koharu in your arms like it hurt him to see her there and not with him.Â
âUmâŚâ Rikoâs small voice cut through the moment. She hovered a little to the side, fidgeting. âMama, are you⌠coming with us?â she asked, her brows pinching in quiet confusion as she glanced between you both.
And, for some reason, this question is a surprise to you. And it very quickly occurs to you also, that maybe your children shouldn't see the maybe difficult and definitely emotional conversation you are planning to have with their father. Yup. Why was that not included in the notes app plan?Â
You donât say anything at first. But now Rikoâs staring at you like sheâs waiting for an answer, and Katsukiâs standing there, still as anything, his hand flexing around the strap of her bag like heâs holding himself back from saying something.
You clear your throat, shifting Koharuâs weight on your hip. â um⌠no not today sweetheart, just saying hi is allâ.Â
Riko doesnât look convinced, but she nods anyway, glancing up at Katsuki. Heâs already watching you, gaze steady, a crease between his brows like heâs thinking something heâs not sure he should say out loud.
âYou could, yâknow,â he mutters after a beat, his voice low but rough at the edges. âCome with us. If you wanted.â
âW-were just getting dinner at that place downtown, with the udon you like. And a movie, probably.âÂ
And if every single member of your little family wasnât looking at you right now, waiting, hoping, you mightâve groaned out loud. How did you not account for this? How did you not see it coming? And you are not about to screw this up by winging it.
âOh,â you say, a nervous laugh catching on your tongue. It falls flat. No one joins in. âI think Iâll take a raincheck for tonight. Got some leftover work I need to finish up, unfortunately.â
You reach out to ruffle Rikoâs hair. She leans into it, even smiles a little, a nice distraction from the weird tension in the air.Â
Katsuki doesnât push. He never does these days. Youâre not sure if that makes it easier or harder.
He just watches you for a long moment, like heâs turning something over in his head. His jaw ticks, sharp and familiar, but when he nods, itâs slow. Careful. Like heâs not trusting himself to move too fast. âYeah,â he says after a beat. His voice is quieter now. âOkay. Another time, then.â
You offer a faint smile, one you hope looks steadier than it feels, and murmur your goodbyes. Riko gives you one last look over her shoulder before climbing into the car. Katsuki opens the door for her without breaking eye contact, and something about that sticks with you longer than it should.
And later that night, youâre still thinking about it. About the way Katsukiâs eyes followed you. About how you turned down his offer because you werenât readyânot yetâand wondering if it sounded too much like rejection.
You hope not. God, you hope not.
~~
Kirishimaâs warnings about time are still hanging in the back of your mind, like a nagging little voice. The more you think about it, the more it feels like putting this conversation off any longer is just another excuse. So, better now than later, right? Whatâs the worst that could happen? Well, besides everything falling apart, obviously.Â
Fatherâs Day.
Itâs not intentional, not really. It just sort of happens that way. And, okay, maybe deciding to have this conversation today of all days feels a little⌠questionable. You could start with a positive. âWow, youâre actually a good father these days!â Sure, the conversation could end terribly, but at least youâd have that one bit of sincerity before everything goes to shit.
A quick text to Izuku confirms what you already suspectedâKatsukiâs working during the day. Of course he is. But he has the kids tonight, which means you get the rest of the evening to yourself. Perfect. Time to spiral in peace.
You spend the morning mentally preparing yourself, like you always do before any interaction with your husband these days. It's become a routine at this pointâdress nice, check your reflection one more time, make sure your hairâs in place, like somehow thatâll make everything easier. You even check the gift you got him for the millionth time, just to make sure it hasnât mysteriously disappeared or been swapped out for something less meaningful. You really donât need any more stress right now.
You want your arrival to be a complete surprise, which means you can't just drive. That would be too easyâand also, the parking sensors at his place would give you away in a second. Katsuki would know you were there before you even stepped out of the car, and you definitely donât want him overthinking anything. So, you opt for the bus instead. It feels a little ridiculous, but itâs the only way to guarantee you catch him completely off guard. No time for him to prepare or second-guess. You want this moment to be real, unfiltered.
As the bus rumbles along, you look out the window at the sunny day, feeling something a little unexpectedâhope. Itâs been a long time since youâve felt that. Itâs funny, though, but as you sit there, the memories come flooding back. It was actually this time of year, so many years ago, when Katsuki officially asked you to be his girlfriend. It feels like a lifetime ago, but the memories are so vivid. People are always surprised when you tell them he was shy back then, especially since they only see the brash, bold personality heâs built up over the years. Back then, though, he was anything but.
He suggested a walk and lunch, like any normal date. But you hadnât even made it ten minutes down the path before he pulled you aside, cornering you against a tree. His eyes were wide, a mixture of determination and uncertainty flickering behind them. âI want to be official,â heâd said, so seriously, yet nervouslyâcompletely out of character for him. You couldnât help but laugh, a soft, genuine laugh. Maybe that laugh made it all the more real, solidifying that this was the boy who had stolen your heart so effortlessly, and the man who was now trying to win it all over again.
And now, here you are, so many years later. The shy boy has grown into a man. Changed by time, by life, by everything youâve both gone through. Itâs funny how much time can shift a person, how it can shape someone in ways you donât always see coming. You wonder how heâd say youâve changed, too. Would he even recognize the person youâve become? Would he still see the girl who laughed under that tree all those years ago? You werenât so sure.
When you find yourself standing outside Katsukiâs agency building, you donât hesitate. The adrenaline is already pumping, your heart racing as you push open the door, wondering if any paparazzi are lurking nearby. Itâs a small but nagging thought, the price of being so connected to someone so publicly known.
You walk up to the front desk, and the receptionists look up, offering you a warm, welcoming smile. "How have you been?" one of them asks, and for a brief moment, you forget how long itâs been since youâve actually been here. You canât even remember the last time you stepped foot into this place. Maybe back when it was still new, and Katsuki was so excited about it. Back then, he used to pester you to come visit all the time, his proud smile, guiding you around with that quiet swagger of his.
You glance around, taking in the changes since the last time you were here. Thereâs a new fishtank behind the reception desk, the soft swish of water a peaceful contrast to the buzz of the street outside. You didnât even notice it when you first walked in. When did that get put in?Â
Leaning in slightly, you lower your voice to a near whisper, careful not to draw attention. âDonât tell Katsuki Iâm here. Iâve got a surprise for him.â The words are almost a secret, a lightness to them that doesnât entirely match the nervous tension growing inside you. The receptionists giggle softly, their glances exchanged behind a knowing smile before one of them gives a playful, almost conspiratorial nod.
One of them leans forward, their voice light with curiosity and a hint of amusement. âA surprise, huh?â they ask, their tone teasing but not intrusive. âHopefully heâll love it. Honestly, heâs been a little quiet around here... maybe heâs just been missing you.â
You nod, trying to mask the sudden tension in your chest. Off. Katsuki had been distant in a way that was hard to ignore. The words only make your nerves continue to bubble in your stomach. You hate the idea that youâve been ruining his work life too. Â
Once the elevator beeps, you quietly step out and walk down the halfway, the sounds of talking fleeting in the background. Your footsteps echo softly, and for a brief moment, you wonder if this is a mistake, or if youâre doing the right thing. Why does everything feel so uncertain now?
But then you shake your head, forcing the doubts aside. You canât hesitate nowânot when youâve come this far. You clutch the gift a little tighter, the weight of it solid in your hands, a reminder of why youâre here. Just do it.Â
When you finally make it to his office, you canât help but hesitate outside the door. His blinds are down, so he hasnât seen you coming. You glance down at your phoneâno messages, no missed calls. Thereâs nothing to suggest heâs expecting you. Still, you hesitate. Your hand hovers above the door, but you canât bring yourself to actually touch it.
You shift your weight from one foot to the other, the tension in your body making you feel jittery, like you're on the edge of doing something you can't quite bring yourself to start. You glance around the hall, seeing a few curious looks in your direction, and you realize just how out of place you must seem, standing here in front of his door, waiting. The longer you stand there, the stranger it feels. You canât put it off any longer.
God, this is hard.
You knock lightly, the sound barely audible. When no response comes after a couple of seconds, you knock again, this time a little more forceful.
âWHAT,â comes Katsukiâs loud voice from the other side, as sharp as ever. You can practically feel the force of it through the door, and it makes you wonder how his staff ever manages to be around him all day without flinching. But you? You're nervous, sure, but you're not scared. You steady yourself, taking a deep breath, before pushing the door open.
To your surprise, Katsuki isnât alone.
Izuku is there too, leaning over Katsukiâs desk with his face uncomfortably close to him. Katsuki, on the other hand, is leaning away, his body stiff and his brows furrowed as if heâs trying to put as much distance between them as possible. But no matter how much Katsuki shifts, Izukuâs still right there, talking to him like theyâre in some weird, casual conversation.
As you step inside, the low murmur of their voices reaches your ears.
âWhy are your under eyes so dark? Have you been sleeping?â Izuku asks, genuinely concerned, his eyes scanning Katsukiâs face.Â
âGet out of my fuckinâ face, Deku,â Katsuki grumbles in response, his hand coming up to swat at Izukuâs face. Izuku, as usual, seems oblivious to how much space heâs crowding, even as he nudges closer to Katsukiâs personal space.Â
You, on the other hand, stand frozen in the doorway, unsure of what to do. Itâs a bit confusing, actuallyâneither of them has looked over at you even though they both know someoneâs coming in. You clear your throat, a soft âhelloâ slipping out, just enough to break the silence.
And just like that, both of them snap their attention to you. Katsukiâs eyes widen in surprise, his body shifting almost instinctively, pushing his chair back as far from Izuku as possible. He straightens up, his posture suddenly more alert. His eyes track you, silent and intense, but thereâs an undercurrent of somethingâmaybe nervousness, maybe relief, and definitely surprise. At least your plan worked?
Izuku, on the other hand, stands up quickly, a wide, easy smile lighting up his face. âHey!â he says brightly, completely unaware of the sudden tension in the room. âKatsuki didnât mention you were coming today!â Without missing a beat, he takes a step forward and pulls you into a warm hug, a casual, friendly gesture that feels comforting in the moment but also slightly jarring given everything youâve been feeling.
Katsuki watches this carefully, his face softening just a fraction when he sees the way Izuku is interacting with you.Â
Izuku pulls away from the hug with a grin, oblivious to any underlying tension. âItâs good to see you!â his voice light, before turning back to Katsuki.
âYou too,â you say shyly, your voice quiet, your gaze catching Katsukiâs. The intensity of his stare unsettles you more than you expect, his eyes still tracking you like heâs trying to make sense of why youâre here, why you showed up today.
But before you can dwell on it too much, Katsukiâs voice cuts through the air with surprising sharpness. âDeku, leave.â
Izuku blinks, clearly taken aback. âWhat?! But I want to catch up with you guys! I havenât seen Y/N in forever, and youâve been dodging my callsââ
âGet the fuck out,â Katsuki growls again, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Izuku frowns, giving Katsuki a playful side-eye, not picking up on the tension at all. âBut you see her every day! I just want toââ
âDeku.â
Thereâs a sudden finality in Katsukiâs voice, something that makes Izuku pause for a second before his expression shifts. Itâs as though he understands something unspoken, the corners of his mouth lifting in a resigned smile. He grabs his jacket off the back of his chair, clearly about to exit.
âFine⌠but I really want to see you guys soon!â Izuku says, turning back to you as he heads toward the door. âAnd Y/N?â he calls with a teasing grin. âMake sure heâs sleeping okay, alright? I know you two are young and in love butââ
âGET THE FUCK OUT, DEKU!â Katsuki cuts him off, his voice booming, and Izuku laughs, raising his hands in mock surrender as he finally exits, leaving you and Katsuki standing there in the thick silence.
You shift uncomfortably, unsure of what to say or do. The plan had been so simple in your headâso clearâbut now, in the face of this strange and quiet moment, it feels anything but.
âIââ You start, your voice faltering before you take a steadying breath. âI wasnât expecting him to be here.â
Katsuki says nothing, his silence hanging between you both like a heavy fog. He runs a hand through his hair, the motion almost like a reflex, and you watch as his jaw tightens, then relaxes. Still, he doesnât speak.
You glance at the space between you, then back at him, the knot in your stomach tightening. This wasnât how you envisioned it.
âI brought you something,â you murmur, your hand instinctively reaching for the small gift bag youâve been holding onto like a lifeline. âFor Fatherâs Day.â
At the mention of Fatherâs Day, his eyes flicker for a moment, just a brief flash of something soft and unfamiliar before itâs gone. Katsuki doesnât take the gift from you immediately, instead watching it with a gaze thatâs more distant than you expect. He doesnât say anything for a few long beats, and youâre starting to think maybe this was a mistake, maybe you shouldâve just left it alone.
But then he takes a step forward, reaching for the bag with an almost reluctant gesture. âYou didnât have to.â
âI wanted to,â you reply, your voice quiet but sincere. "It's... it's just a little something."
Katsuki gives a stiff nod as he pulls the bag from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours briefly, and though the contact is fleeting, it sends a shiver through you. He opens it slowly, and the soft crinkle of tissue paper fills the silence before he pulls out the small, simple gift you picked out for himâa picture frame. Itâs of him and the girls, when Koharu had just been born and was still so tiny. You donât think heâs ever seen this picture. You took it during one of those rare, quiet moments when he was reading to the girls, lost in the story and unaware you were watching from the doorway.
For a long time, Katsuki doesnât speak. He simply stares at the frame in his hands, his gaze fixed on the picture. You consider that your going to be met with silence again, that this was all one big mistake and your overstepping with someone that canât be bothered with you anymore.Â
âIs⌠is it okay?â you ask hesitantly, your voice breaking the silence.
Finally, Katsuki looks up at you, and for a moment, the distance between you seems to shrink. âYeah. Itâs fine. Itâs⌠nice,â he says with a low soft tone to it.Â
You shift, unsure of what to do next, your eyes tracing the lines of his face, the hard planes of his jaw, the tension that hasnât quite faded from his shoulders. Itâs like he's lost in the memory, but also wrestling with it at the same time.
After what feels like forever, he finally speaks, and the words are barely a whisper, but they hold more weight than any explosion he couldâve set off. "What are you really doing here?"
His eyes flick up to meet yours, but they linger there for just a moment before quickly darting away, almost like heâs afraid of what he might see if he holds your gaze too long.
For a second, you donât know how to answer. Your throat tightens, the weight of his gaze pressing down on you. Itâs not an easy question to answer, not when the answer feels too complicated, tangled up with everything you both are and arenât anymore.
But you manage to find your voice. âIââ You stop yourself, unsure how to explain it, unsure of how much to say. You try again, quieter this time. âI wanted to see you. To... give you that. To... be here.â
His gaze shifts briefly, something unreadable flashing in his eyes before he looks down at the frame again. His fingers tighten around it, but itâs not in angerâitâs like heâs holding onto it, holding onto the moment in the picture, trying to tether himself to something he canât quite let go of.
Thereâs a hesitation in the way he breathes, in the way his gaze keeps flicking between the picture and you. He seems to want to say something, but whatever it is, heâs holding it back, like itâs too fragile to speak aloud.
ThenââSweetheartâŚâ His voice catches, a quiet hesitation there you havenât heard before. âWhat does that mean?â His lips twitch into a dry, almost self-deprecating smile. âIâm a little fuckinâ confused over here.â
You huff a breath, nerves fluttering under your skin. Fair enough. You did show up unannounced after weeks of silence, acting like none of it had happened. Of course heâs confused. You would be, too.
âYeah. Okay. Umâwell!â You force a shaky exhale through a tight-lipped smile. God, why is this so hard? âI just⌠had some things to say and Iâwell. No. I guess.â
The words tangle in your mouth before they can land anywhere. Youâre floundering, and you know it.
Katsuki reaches out, his hand finding your hip with a steadiness you didnât realize you needed. His thumb draws slow, grounding circles against your side. âBreathe,â he murmurs.
You do. So does he.
And when you give him a small, grateful smile, itâs answered by a faint flush rising on his cheeks. That soft, familiar pink that makes your chest ache. Yeah⌠this is okay. You can do this.
âI wanted to apologize,â you say, quieter now. âFor what happened⌠last time. When you were at the house.â
His hand falls away from your hip at that, and the loss of it makes your skin prickle cold. But you keep going.
âYou were right. It wasnât fair to you. And then I made it worse by not reaching out after I⌠after I threw you out.â You swallow hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. âI guess I thought youâd message me first. Which was stupid.â
âI didnât want to overstep,â he says quietly, staring down at his hands like theyâre something heâs only just noticed. His knuckles are tight, the same hands that just held you, now clenched like heâs bracing for something.
You step closer, reaching out. Your palms cradle his face, coaxing his gaze back to yours. His eyes widen, startled in a way that makes your heart ache all over again. Like he canât quite believe youâre here.
âI know you didnât,â you say softly. âI think I was just feeling⌠insecure. Hurt. And, yeah, maybe a little petty.â You try for a smile, but itâs faint. âNot my most mature moment.â
Your fingers slip into his hair, nails grazing gently at his hairline. âIâm sorry. Okay?â
Katsukiâs quiet for a beat. Then another. His eyes search yours like heâs looking for something he isnât sure heâll find.
And then, barely above a breathââDoes that mean I can come home now?â
The way he says it cracks something open inside you. Soft. Uncertain. Katsuki Bakugou, who has always been brash and sure, suddenly sounds like a kid waiting to be told heâs not in trouble. Like heâs hoping for permission to want this.
Your chest tightens. âYes,â you whisper. âI⌠missed you. A lot. So if you want to, yeah. Please.â
You barely have time to breathe before heâs pulling you in, arms wrapping tight around you like heâs afraid youâll disappear if he lets go. His face presses to your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin.
âIâm sorry too,â he says, his voice thick. âI hate that I made you feel like that. Youâre⌠youâre the most beautiful fuckinâ person in the world to me. I want you to know that.â
He draws back just enough to look at you, his hands still cradling your waist. His eyes are a little red around the edges. âIâve missed you so fuckinâ much.â
You smile. And this time, it feels real.
âMe too.â
~~~
Katsuki doesnât come home that night.
He tells you straight, his hands firm on your hips, holding you steady like he thinks you might drift off if he doesnât. âI⌠I want to come back tonight. Fuck, angel, I want to.â His thumbs press in, warm and certain. âBut itâs complicated. I got arts and crafts shit with the girls, andââ
He pauses, searching your face, as if thereâs something he needs you to understand. And you do. You really do. Itâs Fatherâs Day, after all. Heâs planned something fun with themâhe deserves that.
So you nod. âItâs fine,â you say, even if itâs not entirely. Even if part of you aches a little at the thought of another night in an empty house.
But then his phone buzzes again. The reminder that heâs still on the clock, still pro-hero Dynamight. He mutters under his breath, answering the call with a scowl. And while heâs distracted, you let yourself slip toward the door. No point hovering.
You donât get far before heâs slamming the phone down.
âOi,â he calls, striding toward you. âDonât leave without saying goodbye.â
You turn, halfway through a smile. âYouâre busy.â
âDonât care,â he shrugs, before wrapping you up in another of his crushing hugs, his chin hooked over your shoulder like heâs grounding himself. âIâll see you tomorrow, yeah?â
âYeah,â you murmur, breathing him in. âLet me know how you and the girls get on.â
At that, he pulls back just enough to flash a small, crooked smile. âTheyâll love it.â And you can tell he means it. Heâs already picturing itâKorahuâs chubby fingers smearing paint where it shouldnât go, Riko trying to keep things under control like sheâs got any chance at all.
It all goes surprisingly smooth after that. You part ways. No fight. No lingering weight pressing on your chest. Just⌠quiet. Simple. You didnât expect simple.
Still, the house feels a little emptier when you get home. You tell yourself itâs karma. Fairâs fair.
So you fill the quiet with the hum of self-careâcleaning, candles, making the bed like heâs already here. Maybe itâs silly, but it makes you feel better. Like youâre making room for him.
A couple of texts drop in while you work:
[7:34 PM] Kirishima: Katsuki said you guys made up!!! đŞ Happy for u (even tho Iâll miss bro being here đŁ)
[8:28 PM] Katsuki: Never letting Korahu touch paint again.
[8:28 PM] Katsuki: [Image Attached]
You canât help the grin as you open the photo. Korahuâs covered, head to toe, in streaks of neon green paint. The grin gets bigger when you reply, because yeah⌠things are starting to feel okay.
You catch yourself thinking how simple it was in the end. Just⌠talk to him. Thatâs all it took. So simple itâs stupid. But itâs a start. Onwards and upwards, right?
And still⌠the intimacy part lingers in the back of your mind. Not the physical, not exactly. The closeness. Letting him in again, letting yourself be seen. Youâre getting there. Youâre proud of that.
Youâre just about to call it a night when you hear the knock.
Itâs late. Too late for visitors. You tread light toward the door, thinking maybe you imagined it, but then it comes again, sharper this time.
You jump. âWho is it?â
âMe, sweetheart.â
Your heart stumbles. For a second, your mind blanks, chasing every possibility. Are the girls okay? Did something happen? Or did he really take âcome back tomorrowâ as âcome back at nearly midnightâ?
You crack the door open, and there he is. Katsuki. Standing there like itâs nothing.
âYou shouldnât talk through the door,â he says, voice low, a little gruff. âUse the cameras. Donât let people know if youâre home.â
You barely register the lecture. âWhat are you doing here?â
He huffs. âCan I come in first?â
You step back, and he does, toeing his boots off by instinct before looking at you again. Heâs flushed a littleâmaybe from the night air, maybe from something else.
âI thought you werenât coming until tomorrow.â
âYeah.â He drags a hand through his hair, messy already. âThe girls are asleep. Told Kirishima I was heading out.â
You wait. Heâs not exactly known for long explanations, but still. You wait.
He shifts, uncomfortable in a way thatâs rare for him. âI know I said Iâd come tomorrow. I was about to go to bed. Was gonna text you.â His hand rubs at the back of his neck, his voice rougher now. âBut I didnât wanna do that again. I didnât wanna⌠not be here. So.â
A beat.
âProbably shouldâve asked first,â he mutters. âSorry.â
You stand there for a second, taking him in. The way his shoulders are tense, like heâs bracing for you to tell him to leave. The way his mouth pulls down at the corners, softened by tired eyes.
You take a step closer, your fingers brushing against his wrist before curling around it. You feel his pulse jump beneath your touch.
âDonât say sorry,â you tell him, your voice gentler than you expected. âI was just surprised. You know I want you here.â
His breath leaves him in a slow exhale. âOkay,â he says. âGood.â
For a moment, neither of you speak. Itâs comfortable in a way it hasnât been for a while. Quiet. Easy.
Then he shifts, his grip on your wrist tightening just enough to pull you closer. âYou look nice,â he murmurs.
You huff a laugh. âThese are just my pajamas, Katsuki.â
âI know that.â His fingers trace lightly along your jaw, calloused pads dragging slow and careful. âStill means you can look nice, doesnât it?â
Thereâs something in the way he looks at youâsoft, but hungry. Itâs not just that heâs missed you. Itâs the kind of heat you havenât seen from him in a long time, and it catches you off guard. Your skin prickles under the weight of it.
You laugh again, quiet and nervous, and step back just slightly. You regret it the second you do. But he doesnât push. His mouth quirks into something close to a smirk, easy, like he doesnât mind waiting.
âI was just heading to bed,â you say, clearing your throat.
âLetâs go then, huh?â His voice is rough, low, but thereâs no push behind itâjust an offer.
Later, you sit beneath the covers, watching him move around the room. He pulls his shirt off and folds it onto the chair, and your eyes catch on the cut of his shoulders, the sharp lines of muscle along his back. Familiar. Hard-earned. Youâve seen it a thousand times, but it hits you different tonight. Like youâre seeing him again for the first time.
Your face warms, and you look away, embarrassed by how much you feel like a teenager sneaking glances.
The room dims when he turns the lamp down, leaving just a wash of amber light spilling across the sheets. Then the mattress shifts under his weight as he crawls in beside you, his arm slipping easily around your waist, pulling you into the solid heat of his chest.
You let out a slow breath against him, and he answers with one of his own.
âMissed you,â he murmurs. His hand smooths over your hip, dragging slow, then curling back up your spine. âMissed this. Canât believe I made us go without it for so damn long.â
âIâve missed it too,â you whisper. âMissed you.â
And then heâs looking at you. Really looking. Like he used toâlike he did in those early years when the world was still new between you. His hand comes up to your cheek, thumb stroking along the curve of your jaw. Itâs reverent. Careful.
He leans in, brushing his lips to yours, light as a breath. Itâs tender, almost hesitant. But you kiss him back. And then itâs not hesitant at all.
His hand slides into your hair as the kiss deepens, his mouth demanding now, hungry and hot. Itâs messy, desperateâyears of holding back spilling out in the press of his lips, the scrape of his teeth, the low sound he makes when you breathe his name against his skin. His other hand finds your hip, holding on tight like heâs worried youâll vanish if he lets go.
When you shift, swinging your leg over to straddle his lap, he groans into your mouth, his hands immediately smoothing down over your thighs, then up, fingers splaying wide as if heâs trying to map all of you at once. Youâre already flushed and breathless, but the sound of him like this, so openly wrecked for you, drives you to chase more.
The kisses donât stopâdonât even slow. His mouth is hot, hungry against yours, and the way he groans when you grind down makes heat pool deep in your belly. His hands are everywhere now, rough palms skating over soft skin, kneading at your waist, your ass, like he canât get enough.
Then he breaks the kiss just long enough to catch his breath, his thumb dragging across your lower lip as he does. Both of you are panting, chests rising and falling like youâve run miles to get here.
âFuck,â he mutters, eyes dark as they flick over your face. âYouâre perfect, sweetheart. Driving me outta my damn mind.â
You canât help the breathy laugh that escapes you, your hand still resting over his hammering heart. Heâs not the only one losing it here.
âI love this,â he says, his voice rough with heat as he gives your hips a slow, deliberate push down against him. Yeah, you can tell. Thereâs no mistaking the hard press of him beneath you, or the way his grip tightens as he holds you there for a moment longer. âLove you,â he adds, softer, but no less intense. âBut I need you to know I didnât show up for this. Wasnât tryinâ to make this a booty call or some shit. I just⌠really needed to be close to you.â
You lean in, brushing your nose against his, smiling faintly. âI know, Kats. I know thatâs not you.â
âGood,â he murmurs. He tips his head back, blowing out a breath, as if heâs trying to cool himself down. âNo more for tonight though.â
You blink, momentarily thrown, and then pout, full and obvious. When he cracks an eye open and sees it, his grin spreads slow and wicked. Heâs enjoying this, even if his chest is still heaving like heâs run a marathon.
âAinât got any protection, sweets,â he says, voice low and deep. âAnd itâs been a long damn while. I wonât be able to hold myself back with you.â
A beat. His gaze flickers, watching your reaction, something warm and teasing in his expressionâbut thereâs truth there, too. A warning wrapped in affection.
âSo unless you want Korahu to have a sibling nine months from now,â he drawls, thumb stroking along your hipbone, âI think itâs best we call it.â
You huff a little laugh and shake your head, leaning forward until your forehead presses to his. âYouâre impossible.â
He snorts softly. âDonât blame me. I ainât thrilled we have to stop either, princess.â
You both settle, breath slowing. The heat fades into something quieter, something steady. You roll off him and curl into his side, and his arm comes around you without hesitation, pulling you close. He presses slow, sleepy kisses to your temple, to your jaw, to your shoulderâlazy but full of something that makes your chest ache.
âNight, Kat,â you whisper against his skin.
âNight, baby,â he murmurs, and then his voice firms up like heâs gripping the words tight. âI love you.â
It comes out of you before you can think too hard about it. âI love you too.â
Thereâs a breath, shaky but soft. âYeah,â he says again, his voice catching just a little. âYeah.â
~~~
After that night, the waters begin to finally settle.
It isnât perfectâKatsuki is still busy, still only human. But heâs trying, and when he slips up, you forgive him. And when you start to overthink things, he doesnât let you spiralâjust pulls you close, asks you softly if things are okay, if they can be better.
He leaves notes when he knows heâll be working late, scribbled in his sharp, messy handwriting. Little things. I love you. Sleep early. Donât wait up. Or, Miss you already. See you soon, sweetheart. And things do get better.
And itâs not just you who notices.
Riko smiles more, hugs you without hesitation. Her arms donât feel like theyâre trying to hold you together anymoreâtheyâre just hugs, warm and happy and childlike the way they should be.
Going to Katsukiâs parents for the first time after everything isnât as scary as you thought, either. His mom pulls you in tight, whispering a quiet thank you. But you thank her instead, and when Katsuki catches your gaze, thereâs no shame thereâno guilt or lingering anger. Just quiet, steady affection.
It makes you wonder how you ever went so long without it.
Because now, youâre addicted to it. Not in a naĂŻve, honeymoon phase wayâno, things arenât perfect. There are still arguments, still sharp words and teary nights. But the love isnât put into question anymore. That stays constant.
Life moves fast, and for the first time in a long time, you donât dread it. You embrace it.
And then, one quiet evening, as you sit on the beach with Katsuki, watching the girls play in the sand, youâre reminded just how far youâve come.
His chin rests on your shoulder, arms draped around your waist as you twirl his fingers absently between yours. The waves roll lazily in front of you, golden light casting long shadows across the shore.
âYou know,â he murmurs, voice low against your ear, âit was three years ago today.â
You hum, still watching the girls. âWhat was?â
âWhen you left.â His voice is quiet, careful. âUp to Tokyo.â
The words land soft but heavy.
It feels so long ago now, that time in your life when everything felt unbearable. But you still remember itâhow could you not?
âWow,â you murmur, letting the thought settle. âSo long ago now.â
âYeah.â He pauses, his grip tightening around you, like heâs bracing himself.
Then, softer, âIâm still sorry about that.â
You turn slightly, glancing back at him. His gaze is distant, the light catching in his eyes, making them burn a little redder than usual.
âIââ he exhales, shaking his head. âItâs one of my biggest mistakes. Letting things get to that point. I donât think I can ever fully forgive myselfââ
âKatsuki.â You shift, turning fully now so you can cup his face in your hands. His eyes flicker to yours, sad and heavy with regret.
âI nearly lost you,â he whispers. âI did lose you. And I still canât believe myself.â
Your heart aches at the way he says itâlike itâs something that still haunts him, something heâll never quite let go of.
But you smile, small and sure. Your thumbs brush over his cheekbones, grounding him.
âBut you didnât,â you remind him gently. âWeâre here. Together.â
He lets out a slow, shuddering breath, like heâs been holding it in for years. Then, finallyâhe nods.
âYeah.â His voice wobbles just slightly, thick with something unspoken.
You kiss him, soft and lingering. His hands find your waist, holding you close, and when you pull back, his forehead presses to yours, breath warm against your lips.
You turn again, settling back against his chest to watch the girls for a moment longer, listening to the rush of the tide.
Then you glance back at him, feeling brave. Feeling full.
âWhere do you think weâll be in another three years?â you ask, leaning into his chest.
He huffs a soft laugh, kissing your hair.
âWherever you are,â he says simply. âThatâs where Iâll be.â
And you believe him. It feels so good to have full promises again.
You tilt your head back, catching his lips in a kiss that tastes like salt and sun and a future youâre both ready for.
And when you pull back, heâs smiling. Really smiling.
âCome on,â he says, tugging you gently to your feet. âLetâs go get our girls.â
âYeah,â you reply, fingers threading through his. âLetâs go home.â
And you do. Together.
.⚠°Ęâɰ.ââ.⚠°Ęâɰ.ââ.⚠°Ęâɰ.ââ.⚠°Ęâɰ.ââ
it was so daunting finishing everything off, but i hope its okay!
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when love isn't enough
starring. miya atsumu x fem!reader
genre. angst.
wc. 6.3k
author's note: as promised from my terminated account, a part 2 of this will be posted around this week
read part two here
The clock was ticking in the silence of your shared apartment.
You were sitting down at the dining table with the cakeâa small one, barely enough for two. Vanilla, with strawberries on top. He always liked it simple.
Your makeup was still intact, somehow. Though your lashes were heavy, your lipstick was untouched. The dressâsoft, deep wine red with a low back and lace detailâwas something you'd kept hidden for weeks. Just for tonight. Just for him.
You imagined how his face would light up when he saw you in it. How his hands would sneak around your waist, tug you close, whisper something teasing in your ear. âGod, ya look like a dream.â
But there was no hand. No voice.
Just you, alone in the dim light.
Your phone buzzed once earlier, a missed notification from a group chat. Not him.
You glanced at the clock. 11:23 PM.
You sighed softly, lips curling upwardânot in joy, not even in amusementâbut in that sad, pathetic way you smile when you're trying to hold yourself together for no one but yourself.
Then you leaned forward and blew out the candles.
The room felt colder when they disappeared. Quiet.
You reached for the knife and cut a slice for yourself. Not out of hunger. You hadnât really tasted anything lately. But it felt worse to leave it untouched.
You took a bite.
You took your phone out, not expecting muchâjust the habitual numb scroll through stories, a reflex more than anything else.
Your thumb paused when you saw it.
Osamuâs story. Posted just a few hours ago.
It was a photo of a dinner table cluttered with empty plates and beer cans, laughter frozen in the shot. In the background, you could see Atsumu, head thrown back mid-laugh, still in his practice shirt, cheeks flushed from the alcohol and good company.
You tapped the sound on.
âOi, Atsumuâdonât choke on that,â Osamuâs voice echoed over the short video. Someone else snorted in the background. Atsumu leaned in toward the camera, clearly tipsy, grinning wide.
âMâfine, shut upâyaâre all just jealous I got the biggest contract!â
The video cut out.
Your chest felt heavy.
He looked so...happy. Carefree. As if he had nothing waiting for him at home. No occasion. No you.
You set the phone down on the table, screen-down like it had offended you.
It wasnât anger that burned in your throat. It was something quieter. He hadnât just forgottenâheâd chosen where to be. Chosen where to pour his laughter.
It wouldâve been fine if it was the first time. If this had been a one-off, a fluke in the chaos of his career. You couldâve forgiven that. You had, before.
But it kept happening. Again and again.
Late nights with no calls. Missed dinners. Canceled plans. You, sitting alone in places where he promised heâd meet you. You, keeping quiet. You, making excusesâfor him, to him, even to yourself.
Youâd tell yourself, heâs tired, itâs not easy being in his shoes, he still loves you.
But love stopped feeling like warmth and started feeling like waiting. Like being on the other end of a phone that never rings. Like dressing up for someone who never comes home. Like blowing out candles by yourself.
And tonight, you couldnât lie to yourself anymore.
This wasnât about a forgotten anniversary.
This was about being forgotten at all.
You settled down the plate with the finished cake, your fork scraping gently against the porcelain as you pushed it aside. Quietly, you stood, wrapping the rest of the untouched dessert and placing it into the refrigerator with mechanical motionsâone hand, one breath at a time.
The apartment felt colder now. The silence was no longer peacefulâit was hollow.
You turned off the kitchen lights and walked down the hallway, the soft click of your heels echoing against the wooden floor. Your bedroom was just ahead. All you wanted now was to take off the dress, wipe away the last of your makeup, and disappear beneath the covers.
Then the entrance door creaked open.
Your steps froze mid-stride.
Keys clinked against the bowl by the door. A bag dropped with a dull thud. You didnât turn around.
âShitâwhyâs it so dark?â came his voice. Slurred slightly. Tired, maybe. Maybe tipsy. Maybe both.
You didnât speak. Just stood there in the hallway, fingers curling slightly against the fabric of your dress.
Atsumu stepped further inside, the shuffle of his sneakers muffled by the rug. You could hear him notice the faint scent of candle wax, the leftovers of something special long since put away.
Thenâ âWaitâŚfuck.â
He realized.
You still didnât turn around. Not yet.
Not when it was too late.
Atsumu saw you standing at the end of the hallway, your silhouette bathed in the faint amber glow of the bedroom light behind you. You hadnât movedâfrozen in place, arms wrapped loosely around yourself, like you were holding in whatever strength you had left.
His gaze trailed over youâyour hair still done, makeup intact, and that dress. That dress. The one he remembered saying he wanted to see you in someday. And tonight, youâd worn it for him.
âBaby⌠youâre all dressed up,â he said softly, as if it only just dawned on him what tonight was supposed to be. His steps faltered. âShit, did Iâwas tonightâ?â
âDonât,â you whispered, voice barely audible over the distance between you.
He blinked. âDonât what?â
âDonât act surprised.â
Your voice was calm. Too calm. The kind that came after hours of holding everything back.
âI waited,â you said. âFrom sunset until now. I waited with the cake. With candles. With music. I waited dressed like this, hoping you'd just come home.â
âBaby, I didnât mean toââ
âBut you did.â Your eyes lifted to meet his. âYou meant to go out. You meant to stay out. You meant to laugh and drink and forget what today was.â
He stepped forward, reaching out. âI didnât forgetâI justâthings ran late, and Iââ
You stepped back. âDonât lie to me, Tsumu. Not tonight.â
The silence that followed was sharp.
âI saw Osamuâs story,â you said quietly. âYou looked happy. Carefree. Like nothing was waiting for you back here.â
His face crumpled slightly, but no excuse left his lips.
âI didnât ask for anything big,â you continued. âI didnât need a hotel or a five-star dinner. Just you. Just your time. Just us.â
He opened his mouthâthen closed it.
âI donât even know why I bothered dressing up,â you laughed bitterly. âYou didnât even notice the damn dress until now.â
âI did. I notice. I swear, I do,â he said, desperation lacing his voice now. âYou look beautiful.â
âItâs not about looking beautiful, Atsumu.â Your voice cracked. âItâs about being seen.â
That shut him up.
You turned then, fingers trembling as they reached for the zipper at the back of your dress.
âWhere are you going?â he asked, like the question wasnât too little, too late.
You didnât face him.
âPacking up my things, Atsumu.â
Silence. ThenââWhat? No, waitâwhat are you talkinâ about?â
You stepped into the bedroom, pulled open the closet with practiced restraint. The rustle of fabric, the scrape of a suitcase being dragged from under the bedâit all sounded too loud in the quiet that followed.
Atsumu appeared in the doorway, disheveled and wide-eyed, like the weight of it was only just starting to land on him.
âYouâre not serious,â he said, voice unsteady. âYouâre not leavinâ, right? Baby, please. Justâjust talk to me.â
You folded a blouse. Then another.
âIâve tried talking to you,â you said, your voice dull, tired. âFor weeks. Months, even. But you were never really here.â
âIâm here nowââ
âNow,â you cut him off, sharp. âWhen Iâm finally done. When thereâs nothing left to celebrate or salvage.â
You turned to face him then, eyes shiningânot from hope or love, but from exhaustion. From the way trying to hold onto him had worn you down, thread by aching thread.
âAtsumu, this isnât the first time.â
Your voice shook, and so did his breath.
âI wouldâve forgiven you. God, I wanted to. I tried. I tried so hard to understand everythingâto be patient, to tell myself you were just busy, that it wasnât personal, that youâd come back to me.â
You took a shaky step closer, not to close the distance, but to be sure he heard every word.
âBut Iâve been understanding you for so long I forgot how to stand up for me.â
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
âI swallowed the loneliness. I let it rot in me quietly. I blew out birthday candles alone. I celebrated small wins by myself. Iâve cried into pillows so you wouldnât hear when you finally came home.â
Your voice cracked then, just once. But it was enough.
âI kept loving you even when you forgot how to love me back.â
His expression shattered, grief spilling out too late, too loud, too broken.
âI never stopped loving you,â he choked.
You smiled, but it didnât reach your eyes.
âMaybe not. But you stopped showing it. And thatâs what made the difference.â
Atsumu stepped closer before you could pull away, before you could put another wall between you and the love that used to be enough. His arms wrapped around you from behindâtight, desperate, trembling.
You froze.
The heat of his chest pressed against your back, his head bowed between your shoulder blades like he couldnât bear to look you in the eye.
Your shoulders felt damp.
It wasnât until you heard the broken inhale that you realizedâhe was crying.
âIâm sorry,â he whispered, voice wrecked and hoarse. âIâm so fuckinâ sorry, baby.â
You stood there, breathing uneven, heart thudding painfully against your ribs. His fingers dug into the fabric of your coat like he was terrified youâd slip through them if he loosened his grip.
âI thought I had more time,â he choked out. âI thought I was doing enough. I didnâtâI didnât see how far I was pulling away.â
You closed your eyes. The tears on your shoulders burned.
âItâs not just about tonight, Tsumu,â you said quietly. âItâs about all the nights you never showed up.â
âI know,â he said, barely audible. âI know I messed up. I know I donât deserve you waitinâ anymore, but pleaseâdonât go. Donât go like this.â
His voice cracked on the last word, and you felt itâhis chest trembling against your back, like his whole body was unraveling, collapsing inward under the weight of everything unsaid and far too late.
And it hurt.
God, it hurt.
Because you still loved him.
He was still the man you fell for. The man who made you laugh until your sides ached, who held your hand under cafĂŠ tables, who promised you the world in quiet moments between games and crowded arenas. The man you built a future aroundâshared toothpaste with, shared mornings with, shared dreams with.
He was still the man you loved.
And that made it worse.
Because love wasnât the problem. It never had been.
It was everything elseâthe silence, the absence, the way you kept reaching out and finding nothing on the other side. It was the dinners eaten alone. The anniversaries forgotten. The promises that turned into excuses.
It was the fact that love wasnât enough when it wasnât shown. When it wasnât fought for.
And now, here he was, breaking down behind you, arms clinging to you like a lifeline heâd only just realized was slipping away.
But you werenât sure if you could save him this time.
Not without losing yourself.
âIâll fix this, baby,â he pleaded, voice shaking as he buried his face against your shoulder. âJustâdonât leave me. Please.â
His grip tightened like he was trying to fuse himself to you, like holding you hard enough would somehow erase the nights he didnât. His breath was ragged, his words rushed and uneven.
âI know I fucked up,â he whispered, âI know I did. But justâgive me a chance to make it right. Iâll do anything. Iâll change everything. Just donât walk away from me.â
Your eyes fluttered shut.
Because god, hearing him like thisâraw, wrecked, desperateâit tore you apart. A part of you wanted to turn around, to wrap your arms around him and say it was okay. To say youâll be okay.
But that would be a lie. And youâd told yourself you wouldnât lie for love anymore.
You swallowed the lump in your throat.
âAtsumu,â you said softly, not cruelly. Just honestly. âYou keep saying youâll fix it. But every time I stay, Iâm the only one trying.â
He didnât say anythingâhe just held you tighter, like silence could make up for everything.
But it couldnât. Not anymore.
You turned around and faced him.
His arms dropped to his sides as if the simple act of looking at you knocked the breath from his lungs.
His usual cheerful selfâso loud, so bright, so undeniably Atsumuâwas gone. No smirk. No cocky charm. No playful glint in his eyes.
Just him. Raw and devastated.
Eyes red, lashes damp, lips parted like he wanted to say something but didnât know how. His brows were drawn tight, and the crease between themâthe one that only ever showed when he was truly overwhelmedâwas deep.
It hurt.
It hurt in ways you couldnât name.
Because even now, even after everything, your heart still twisted at the sight of him like this. He looked like a boy who'd lost his way. Like someone who only just realized the warmth heâd taken for granted was now standing with one foot out the door.
âAtsumu...â you whispered, voice cracking around his name.
He looked at you like you were the last thing he had left to hold onto.
And maybe you were.
But your heart didnât know whether to reach for him or finally let go.
His eyes were glassyâa mirror to yours. A reflection of every quiet night you'd spent holding back tears, of every moment you'd stared at the door wondering if heâd remember to come home. Now he stood in front of you, eyes just as broken, just as full.
You inhaled shakily, your voice barely above a whisper.
âI love you so much, Atsumu.â
And you did. Even now, even after everything. You loved him in a way that made your chest ache and your hands tremble. Loved him so deeply that walking away felt like tearing your own heart out.
His breath hitched, lips parting as if those words physically struck him.
âThen donât leave me,â he said, stepping closer. âIâll leave volleyball if thatâs what you want. I swearâif thatâs what it takes to keep you, Iâll walk away from all of it.â
Your eyes widened, the weight of his words crashing over you like a wave.
âAtsumu,â you said, pain threading your voice, âI never asked you to give up your dreams.â
âI donât care about the game if youâre not in the stands anymore,â he said, voice cracking. âIt means nothinâ if I come home and youâre not here. None of it matters without you.â
You shook your head, tears slipping silently down your cheek.
âThatâs the problem,â you whispered. âYou only remembered what matters when you were about to lose it.â
âMy dream is being with you,â he said, voice trembling, eyes desperateâlike if he said it enough, youâd believe him more than he believed it himself.
You reached up, brushing away a tear that had finally slipped free.
âI know, Tsumu,â you whispered, âbut volleyball is also your everything.â
âI can leave it behind,â he said quickly. Too quickly. Like it was a decision heâd throw out just to keep you from walking away.
âAtsumu, no.â
He flinched at the firmness in your voice.
You took his hands, slowly, gentlyâlike holding something fragile.
âI might mean as much to you as volleyball does. Maybe even more right now. And thatâs⌠thatâs everything to me. But I never asked you to stop.â You blinked back the burn in your eyes. âI never wanted to be the reason you gave up the thing youâve built your entire life around.â
His fingers curled around yours tightly, as if he was scared letting go meant losing you completely.
You looked up at him, voice soft but resolute.
âI wanted to grow beside you. Not be what you sacrificed.â
He swallowed hard. âBut if itâs the only way I get to keep youââ
âItâs not,â you cut in, shaking your head. âWhat I needed wasnât for you to quit. I just needed to stop feeling like I came second.â
And for the first time, he understood. Not just with his earsâbut with his heart.
You didnât want to take his dream away. You never did. All you ever wanted was to be included in it. To be remembered when the crowds faded, when the court emptied, when the adrenaline wore off.
Your chest ached as you looked at himâtear-stained and silent, eyes pleading like he didnât know how to exist without you.
You reached up and cradled his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing against the wet streaks on his cheeks. Your lips quivered as you leaned your forehead against his.
âGod, Atsumu,â you whispered, voice breaking. âI love you so much it hurts.â
And it did. Deeply. Fully. Enough to make this harder than anything youâd ever done.
He closed his eyes, like he wanted to live in those words forever.
But you werenât finished.
Your voice softened to something even more fragile. Something that barely made it past your lips.
âBut if I continue to stay, Atsumu⌠Iâll lose myself.â
His eyes snapped open.
âIâm already slowly losing it,â you said, a tear slipping down your cheek. âEvery time I choose to understand you and push my needs aside, every time I wait and hope and pretend it doesnât hurtâI disappear a little more.â
He shook his head slowly, hands trembling as they gripped your waist. âNo⌠no, please, donât say that.â
âI have to,â you whispered. âBecause I need you to hear it this time. Before itâs too late.â
Atsumu looked at youâreally looked at youâand his heart splintered at the sight.
Your tears were falling now, slow and silent, tracing the curve of your cheeks like they had nowhere else to go but down. There was no yelling. No dramatic breakdown. Just quiet, aching sorrow. And somehow, that made it so much worse.
It hurt.
God, it hurt him to see you like this.
But what tore him apartâwhat made his throat tighten and his knees weakâwas knowing he was the reason. That the person standing in front of him, shattered and exhausted, wasnât crying because of the world or some cruel stranger.
It was because of him.
And that broke every part of the boy he used to be.
He remembered. High school. That day he found you crying behind the gym after some girls said something cruel about your clothes. About how you didnât belong. How you werenât enough.
Heâd held your hands thenâsmaller, shakingâand heâd made a promise.
âI wonât let anyone make ya cry ever again, yâhear me?â
You had smiled through your tears. Believed him.
And here you were now, years later, crying again.
Because of him.
His breath hitched, and he stumbled a step back like the weight of it knocked the air out of his lungs.
âI promised,â he whispered, more to himself than to you. âI swore Iâd never be the one to hurt you.â
You smiled softly, a small, broken thing that didnât quite reach your eyes.
âI know, Tsumu,â you said, your voice gentle despite the weight in your chest. âYou did.â
And you meant it.
You remembered the sincerity in his eyes when he made that promise all those years ago. The way his hands clutched yours like he could shield you from everything that could ever go wrong. Back then, he meant every word.
And maybe even now, he still did.
But love wasnât just about meaning well. It was about showing up. Choosing. Not just once, but every day. And somewhere along the way, he stopped choosing you in the ways that mattered.
So your smile lingered, tender and aching all at once, like a goodbye dressed in love that still hadnât faded.
Your hand grazed Atsumuâs cheek, fingers brushing against the wetness of his tears. His eyes fluttered shut at the touch, as if it grounded him, as if it was the only thing keeping him upright.
You leaned forward, slowly, carefully, your forehead pressing against his for a heartbeat, your breaths mingling in the quiet space between you.
Then you kissed him.
Soft. Lingering. Gentle.
It wasnât hungry or rushed or desperate. It wasnât about fixing anything or making promises you both werenât sure you could keep.
It was a farewell. A thank you. An I love you and I wish things were different all tangled in one final kiss.
Atsumu kissed you back like he knew.
Like he felt the goodbye in it too.
And when you pulled away, your hand still resting on his face, you looked at him one last time.
âIâll always love you, Atsumu,â you whispered, voice barely holding itself together.
His eyes searched yours, frantic, full of panic he was trying to keep down.
âWe need to find ourselves once again, Atsumu,â you continued, your thumb brushing against the corner of his mouth, shaky and tender. âAnd maybe⌠just maybe, weâll still end up in each otherâs arms.â
Hope flickered across his face. His hands tightened around yours.
âWe can do that together,â he said quickly. âWeâll figure it outâside by side. We donât have to let this fall apart.â
You shook your head gently, sadly. âNo, Tsumu. By ourselves.â
He froze.
âRight now, weâre holding on so tightly weâre bruising each other,â you said. âWe keep trying to fix things while weâre still breaking. Itâs not love anymoreâitâs survival. And thatâs not fair to either of us.â
His mouth opened, but nothing came out. Just pain.
âIf we stay like this,â you said softly, âweâll keep hurting each other.â
And the worst part?
You knew you were right and so did he.
âIâm so sorry, baby,â he whispered, voice cracking as his hands trembled in yours. âIâm so sorry I made you feel this way.â
You looked at him, eyes soft, tired.
âI know,â you said quietly. âI know you didnât mean to hurt me. None of it was intentional.â
And thatâs what made it worse.
Because there was no villain here. No betrayal, no cruel words or shattered trust. Just neglect born from love stretched too thin. Just silence where effort used to be.
It hurt, AtsumuâGod, it hurtâthat despite everything, despite the missed calls and lonely nights and the way you were made to feel invisible, you were still understanding. Still trying to hold compassion in the same hands that held all your aching.
And he saw that nowâhow deeply unfair that was.
How you kept bending while he kept assuming youâd never break.
And now here you were, broken, still loving him. Still gentle with the pieces.
âIâll send you off,â he said, voice barely holding itself together, like the words physically hurt to say.
You looked up at him, your suitcase by your side, your coat already on, and gave him a soft smile. One full of memories and endings.
âIâll be fine, Atsumu.â
It was simple. Quiet. Final.
And it shattered him more than any scream ever could.
You stepped forward, one last time, and pressed a kiss to his lipsâgentle, lingering, full of everything you couldnât say anymore.
His eyes fluttered shut, like he wanted to freeze this moment, live inside it just a little longer.
When you pulled away, your hand stayed against his cheek for a second more. Just enough.
âGood luck with everything, Atsumu, okay?â you said, voice steady despite the way your heart was breaking. âIâll still be cheering you on.â
A tear slipped down his cheek, and you brushed it away with your thumb.
âYouâll always be my number one star.â
You gave him a small smile, one that wavered at the edges.
âI love you, Atsumu.â
Then you turned and walked awayâ
And this time, he didnât stop you. He just stood there, watching the love of his life leave with grace, and all the pain in the world stitched quietly into her goodbye.
Once the door shut, silence filled the apartment.
It was loud in a way silence shouldnât beâpressing, hollow, unforgiving.
Atsumu stood frozen in the entryway, staring at the door like it might open again. Like maybe you'd come back and say you forgot somethingâyour charger, your earrings, his heart.
But you didnât.
You were gone.
The echo of your laughter, once so full and bright, no longer danced through the walls. It was just a memory nowâsoft, distant, fading fast.
And the space that used to be warm with your presence felt unbearably empty.
He sank to the floor slowly, back pressed against the door you had just walked through, like maybe if he stayed there long enough, he could still feel the warmth of your goodbye.
His head fell into his hands, fingers tangled in his hair, and for a while, all he could do was sit in the stillness you left behind.
Then he looked up.
The hallway stretched before him, dim and familiarâbut suddenly unfamiliar all the same.
The pictures of the two of you hung neatly along the wall, framed snapshots of better days. Your beach trip. A blurry shot from his first pro game. A birthday dinner where you wore that green dress he loved.
You were smiling in every one.
So was he.
But nowânow that he really lookedâhe saw it.
The difference.
Your smile back then was bright. Unburdened. It reached your eyes, curved your whole face into joy. It wasnât just happinessâit was peace. Safety.
And lately⌠your smile had been quieter. Smaller. As if you were trying to hold it in place. As if it had become something you gave to him, even when you had none left for yourself.
How did he not notice?
How did he miss the way your joy had faded in real time, right beside him?
Atsumu pressed a palm to his chest like that would stop the ache from spreading, like if he held himself hard enough, he could keep the pieces from falling apart. Like maybeâjust maybeâhe could rewind time with sheer desperation.
But the clock kept ticking.
He rarely cried. Not even after a loss, not even when the whole stadium turned quiet in defeat. He was the one who gritted his teeth, slapped backs, cracked jokes to mask disappointment.
But now, with your scent still lingering in the air and your last words echoing in his head, the tears came. Quiet at first, then sharpâlike everything he had been holding back all these months suddenly collapsed under its own weight.
What hurt the most wasnât just the silence.
It was the truth.
Everything you saidâevery single wordâwas right.
You did wait. You did understand. You did try to hold both of you together when he couldnât be bothered to look up from his schedule. He thought love was enough to cover the distance. He thought youâd always be there.
But love needed showing.
And he hadnât. Not when it mattered.
Atsumu curled into himself on the floor, tears soaking the sleeves of the jersey he hadnât changed out of. Not because he didnât careâbut because he hadnât realized until it was too late.
And now the person he loved most had walked out the doorâŚ
And this time, she didnât take her heart with her.
She left it behindâcracked and achingâright in his hands.
The following morning came, slow and unforgiving.
Light spilled through the curtains, soft and golden, but it brought no warmth. Only the reminder that time kept movingâeven when hearts didnât.
The bed beside Atsumu was empty.
Sheets untouched, cold.
He turned his head, almost instinctively, hoping for the weight of you, the shape of you, the soft sighs you made as you stretched into the day. But there was nothing. Just the pillow you used, slightly indented, still holding the ghost of your presence.
The room still smelled like you.
Your perfumeâhis favorite. The one with soft notes of jasmine and vanilla, the one heâd always picked out for you whenever he went overseas. He used to joke that it helped him find you in crowds, that you always smelled like home.
Now it haunted him.
He sat up slowly, staring at the space where you used to lie. Your hair wouldâve been fanned out against the pillow. You wouldâve mumbled something sleepy, pulled the blanket tighter around yourself.
But there was only silence now.
Atsumu brought a hand to the sheets, gripping them tightly, knuckles white, as if holding onto the fabric could somehow summon you back. Could somehow pull you out from the spaces youâd left behind. From the warmth that used to be thereânow gone cold.
The door creaked open.
âDid you finally fuck up?â came Osamuâs voice from the doorway, quiet but sharp. Not unkind, but not sugarcoated either.
Atsumu didnât look at him. Just nodded, eyes fixed on the hollow beside him.
âYeah,â he muttered. âFucked up big time.â
Osamu stepped inside, taking in the roomâthe perfume lingering in the air, the suitcase no longer by the closet, the untouched side of the bed. The silence.
He sighed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.
âShe texted me last night,â he said, voice low. âTold me to check on you. To make sure you didnât do anything stupid.â
Atsumu finally looked up at that, his throat tightening.
âShe still loves you, Tsumu,â Osamu continued, gently this time. âAnyone with eyes could see that.â
Atsumu blinked hard, jaw clenched.
âBut she was right,â Osamu added, his voice firmer now. âShe needs to find herself first again. And maybe⌠maybe you do too.â
Atsumu dropped his gaze again, fingers still curled in the sheets, the scent of you wrapping around him like a memory that refused to leave.
And for the first time, he didnât argue.
Didnât make excuses.
He just sat thereâquiet, achingâfinally understanding the cost of not noticing until it was too late.
âIt was never your intention to hurt her, Tsumu,â Osamu said, his tone gentler now, the edge softening as he looked at his brotherâslumped, hollow-eyed, and surrounded by absence.
Atsumu didnât respond, just pressed his palm to the mattress again, as if it might still give him something. Anything.
Osamu hesitated before adding, âShe also said something else⌠about a letter. Told me to remind you. Said youâd find it in the bedside drawer.â
Atsumuâs head turned slowly.
His heart dropped.
He reached across the bed with trembling hands and pulled the drawer open. It creaked softly, like it, too, had been holding onto something it didnât want to let go of.
And there it was. A folded envelope with his name on itâwritten in your handwriting, the one he knew like his own breath.
He stared at it for a moment. Afraid to touch it. Afraid to open it and see the goodbye you hadnât said out loud.
But he picked it up anyway.
Because part of him still needed to hear your voice, even if it was only in ink.
Atsumu opened the envelope with shaking hands, the paper soft and slightly wrinkledâlike you had held it too long before tucking it away. Like maybe part of you didnât want to leave it behind either.
His eyes scanned the first line, and already his throat tightened.
My darling Tsumu,
I donât know how to start this without crying. But then again, Iâve been crying for a while now. Quietly. In rooms we used to fill with laughter. In restaurants where I sat alone, pretending I was just early, when really, I was just forgotten.
I know you didnât mean to hurt me. I know that in your heart, thereâs never been anyone but me. And I want you to know, I never doubted that. Not once.
But love doesnât survive on intention alone.
Do you remember that day I waited at the cafĂŠ for three hours? It was the first time in weeks weâd both had a free afternoon. I picked the place because you said the view reminded you of one of your old training camps. I kept the seat across from me open, ordered your favorite drink, kept looking up every time the door opened.
You never came.
You forgot, Tsumu.
Do you remember when I got the call about my job offer? The one Iâd worked so hard for? I called you first. And when you didnât pick up, I waited. I waited because I wanted to celebrate with youâonly you.
But you were on a flight to an away game you never told me about. I found out through Osamuâs story later that night.
I opened a bottle of champagne by myself. Toasted the ceiling.
Pretended it was enough.
And then there was that night I got sickâreally sick. I called you, barely able to speak, asking if you could come home. You said youâd try. I fell asleep on the bathroom floor waiting for you. You never came.
It wasnât about one missed moment, Atsumu.
It was how those moments kept piling up.
It was the way I kept shrinking myself to make room for your world, while mine was slowly fading in the background.
It was the way I became quieter, more patient, more forgivingâuntil I realized I was starting to forget what it felt like to be seen.
I still love you. That hasnât changed. Maybe it never will, but I need to remember who I am without waiting on a door that doesnât open. I need to find the version of me that doesnât flinch every time the phone buzzes with a maybe.
And I thinkâŚ
I think you need to find the version of you that remembers how to show up.
Please donât hate yourself. Please donât let this break you.
Youâre still the same boy who held my hand when I was scared of thunder. Still the man who kissed my forehead before big meetings, even half-asleep. Still the star I looked up to, even when you forgot to shine for me.
I hope someday we find our way back to each otherâwith brighter hearts, and steadier hands.
And if notâŚ
Iâll still be cheering for you. Always.
The letter slipped from Atsumuâs fingers, landing softly on the bed.
And this timeâHe didnât try to hold back the tears.
It was rareâpainfully rareâfor Osamu to see his twin like this.
Atsumu had always been the louder one, the bolder one. The one who puffed out his chest, who cracked jokes even after losses, who grinned through pressure and acted like nothing could touch him.
But not now.
Now, he was quiet. Folded in on himself like something sacred had been taken from him. His eyes were swollen, cheeks wet, fingers clenched around the edge of the bed like they were the only thing keeping him from unraveling completely.
And Osamuâhe just stood there, watching, helpless.
Because God knows how much Atsumu loved you.
He saw it.
He saw it from the very beginningâback in high school, when Atsumu used to stare at you across the gym instead of focusing on drills. When heâd grumble about how annoying you were one minute, then show up the next morning with your favorite drink from the vending machine like it was nothing. Like it hadnât taken him three buses and an early wake-up just to get it in time.
He saw how Atsumu lit up when your name popped up on his phone. How he bragged about you to teammates, to reporters, to anyone who would listen. How his eyes always scanned the crowd until they landed on you.
And he saw it shift, too.
When the schedules got tighter. When the dinners got postponed. When your laughter, once so constant, started to come around less and less.
He saw you dim.
And he saw Atsumu not see it.
Osamu ran a hand through his hair and let out a slow breath, stepping closer, his voice low but firm.
âYou really loved her, huh?â
Atsumu nodded without looking up, his voice hoarse.
âStill do.â
Osamu glanced down at the letter still resting on the bed, its words bleeding into the silence like a wound that wouldnât close.
âShe didnât leave âcause she stopped loving you, Tsumu,â he said gently. âShe left âcause you stopped showing her you did.â
And Atsumu, for once, didnât try to defend himself.
Didnât argue.
He just sat there in the ruins of everything heâd taken for grantedâ
Grieving the girl he loved, and the version of himself she no longer had the strength to wait for.
âFix yourself first, Tsumu.â
Osamuâs words werenât cruel. They werenât said to wound, or punish.
They were softâquiet in the way truth often is when itâs spoken by someone whoâs watched everything unravel from the sidelines. Someone whoâs held back his own words for too long, waiting for the right moment to say what needed to be said.
Atsumuâs eyes stayed fixed on the floor, jaw clenched, but his walls had already crumbled hours ago. There was nothing left to hide behind.
He nodded slowly.
Because he knew.
He knew that no amount of begging could bring you back right now. Not when he hadnât even learned how to be present. Not when heâd forgotten how to love without assumptionâhow to choose you again and again, instead of just expecting you'd always be there.
So for once, he didnât say Iâll fix it.
Didnât say Iâll make it right.
Because this time, the fixing had to start with him.
And maybeâjust maybeâwhen he found the version of himself who didnât take love for granted, he could finally be the man you needed when you stopped needing to heal from him.
Š 2025 yukkigiri âž creations by luna â please do not repost, copy, or translate without permission.

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đ TO BECOME A FATHER âŠÂ katsuki bakugou .á
đ pit stop ! 𦹠surprisingly, katsuki bakugou is pretty good with kids. they like the colours of costume and the funny faces he makes when heâs mad. whatâs even more surprising, is the single mother he falls for and the little girl that quickly becomes his whole world. (8.3K)
đ safety car ! â safe for work â fluff â eighteen plus only. pro hero au, characters are depicted as adults. strangers to lovers, single parents, found family, mentions of drinking, child getting lost in large crowd, reader has a named daughter, katsuki referred to as dad. pro hero katsuki bakugou, single mum & fem reader.
đ team radio ! â happy birthday to everyoneâs favourite explosive boy. iâm so happy i managed to get something out for him this year, even if itâs pure fluff, love you sm sm kacchan!! hope you all enjoy and click for more.Â
ââ Š tteokdoroki âąÂ 2026.
katsuki bakugou is surprisingly good with kids.Â
whether he liked it or not, tiny and little humans had some kind of affiliation for him â neither deterred or discouraged by the heroâs hardened exterior and the rough scars stretching across his face, up his jawline. no, more than anything, children looked up to him â saw someone they wanted to be, someone who kept them safe, someone they admired.Â
dynamight to most children these days is what all might was to katsuki back then. some kind of symbol, some kind of path and footsteps to follow.Â
in actuality, he doesnât mind it. when the little ones of his friends and ex classmates clamber all over him, tug at his hero costume, play with his gear or call him âuncle kacchanâ whenever he comes over. he likes it, secretly, being someone they can look up to and someone who can look out for them in the way so many of his teachers and mentors did. katsuki bakugou, whether heâs willing to tell you the truth or not, has a soft spot for the innocence children bring to an oftentimes cold, cruel world. their laughter like sun on his skin and their smiles like a warm hug to the heart.Â
so, when katsuki is flushed in the face and stumbling over his words at the class 1-A weekly get-together â hard liquor sloshing over the rim of the glass heâs barely holding in a late-night bar after patrol, chest warm and ruby eyes sparkling⌠no one is really surprised by his accidental slip up. the one in which he blabbers on and on about single mother heâs got a crush on. the very single, available, gorgeous ( katsukiâs own words, verbatim, mind you ) single-mother working at the front desk and in the receptionist department of izukuâs agency. of all places.
âsheâs gonna me mine, âm damn sure if it. even that damned kid.â at the time heâd confessed it like it was a promise, swore up and down and to the stars that heâd have you â hardly deterred by the fact that you had a child, a whole life before him full of firsts youâd already completed. bakugouâs friends didnât laugh even if heâd slurred and slumped over after knocking back the rest of his drink â they knew he meant it, they were happy for him because love hadnât come easy to katsuki before. easy hasnât come easy to him before.Â
⌠and low and behold, everything with you, was like that. easy. like the drop of a hat. unlike troubled waters. from the day he met you at his childhood best friendâs agency â all the way until now.Â
katsuki had noticed you randomly one morning. walking into that idiot dekuâs agency to discuss strategy for an after school training session  the teacher had offered up to his students on kacchanâs behalf. it didnât help that the blonde was already antsy, exhausted from paparazzi â heâd have made less of a fool of himself then. after making it through security, breezing through the lobby like he owned the place, bakugou is stopped by a slight and additional weight on his heavy orange-studded combat boots. heâd paused, all six foot something of his hulking frame taking up space in the bustling lobby, and then lifted his foot.Â
thus, coming eye to eye with a kid no older than three or four â the type with an adorable little nose (thankfully clean of boogers) and bright eyes that practically reflect the fluorescent lights above.Â
sheâd beamed up at him then, chubby cheek perched upon the bend in his knee â unassuming, unaware of social cues, adoring him like heâs not capable of deadly things. her head tilted, smile widened to show the gaps in her baby teeth before whispering words that melted katsukiâs heart from innocence.Â
âi like your boots. orange is my favourite colour!âÂ
his entire body had smiled with her. filled with a warm fuzzy feeling, akin to the flickering amber of a flame â extending from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. katsuki remembers it well, unfamiliar with the tight pull of his lips into a genuine grin. âyeah?â heâd laughed, a hybrid mix of amusement and surprise stretching through the sound, before prying the little girl from his knee and settling her safe on her feet so he could stoop properly to her level. âwhatâs your name, hah?â
âakari, momma calls me kari!â akari introduced herself with a practiced politeness that had surprised him at the time. a three year old runt with better manners heâd ever had.
tilting his head, bakugou then asked. âyou lost, kid?â
ânuhuh. mommaâs comminâ,â she shook her head once, followed by the bounce of her curls very much stolen from someone else. someone who loved her too much and took care of her with every corner of their beating heart. heels click against the marble floor and accompanied by a shrill shriek â a motherâs voice only heard once reunited with their child, bakugou knew that voice all too well. his mother was the same.
protective. fearful. worried.
and then there you were, a vision coming straight into his ruby lined view â bounding up behind the child the pro hero bow crouched before.
you were picture perfect in your corporate-esque pencil skirt and matching blazer â shiny curls and locks pulled back into the a professional style perfectly suiting your hair type, not a part of you out of place⌠except for your frazzled expression and the wild look swirling in your eyes, panicked for your child. âi am so sorry,â youâd gotten out in a rush of syllables and letters that sounded all too pretty coming from you. a complete ( entirely too stunning ) stranger. âkari baby, i thought we agreed that youâd wait behind the desk until momma could take lunch. then youâd hang out with izukuââ
that had caught the explosive heroâs attention, head snapping up to the child in order to look for similarities and compare them to his old friend. âshe his?â
there wasnât any malice, only curiosity and a twinge of jealousy that hadnât gone unnoticed by you. people always talked, always asked â curious as to why someone your age and so young already had a three year old toddler in tow. perhaps you were paid off to keep hush about a celebrity affair, maybe you were married fresh out of university and widowed. however, this would have been the first time somebody had asked about akariâs father and looked like theyâd wanted it to be them.Â
âoh no,â waving a hand â youâd seemed bashful at the time, though bakugou couldnât the lines of love etched into your features as you looked down at your daughter even then. âsheâs all mine, i like to think. all the best parts of me that i need to keep safe, all the parts of me that i wish someone else had protected,â it was more than the answer that he expected, and somehow just what katsuki needed to hear â to know that not only were you single; but someone who loved others oh-so dearly and with their whole entire soul. too good for the world and anything in it. âdid you need to see him? izuku? heâs uhâin a meeting right now, free in an hour⌠i can ring you upâ?âÂ
your words became spaced out between the way youâd bounced your baby girl on your hip and sashayed your way back to the front desk to book bakugou in â your eyes only finding his, albeit shyly, once you were safely behind the thick oak and computer systems that groaned to life after getting back online, ready to take his details.
bakugou took one look at you in that moment, squirming under his fiery gaze and then shifted his line of sight over to your baby â all happy and smiles, despite being stuck at work with her momma. bakugou thinks, really, just for a moment. if he does this, thereâs no going back or being normal â thereâs a mother and a child on the line⌠but he canât deny the skip in his heart, one he hasnât felt since the damn thing kickstarted after his death, he gets just from looking at you, being in your presence.
he wants to live without regret, remember than in his line of work every day could be his last so thereâs no point in holding back. when you shift awkwardly, raising a brow under the suspicious looks from your coworkers â katsuki catches on, leaning his forearms against the desk politely and subtly flirtatiously.Â
âhold that thought,â he breathed, exhaling his nerves. âhow about, you give me your number first ân then ring me up to that nerd â i-i mean, izuku?âÂ
despite the low blow at your boss, you couldnât help but flash him a flirtatious grin â endeared by the blush blasted across the brave heroâs hardened features. itâs only when youâre scribbling down your digits for him on a post-it that katsuki realises his success.Â
and from there, the rest is history.
it starts slowly.
bakugou making a home for himself in the outer shell of your mundane life. he paints the walls of said home, your daily routine, with colours of amber and orange and happiness in the form of your daughterâs soft giggles and date nights that make you feel like a proper human adult again â outside of your role as a mother and a matriarch.Â
that day at dekuâs agency, heâd taken your phone number and then taken a crack at your carefully guarded heart, peeling back its paper mache layers and all, the ones that stop you from falling apart after the bullshit akariâs biological father put you through. the blonde pro hero promised to take care of it, of you, over wine after hours on your terms and at your place, never his, because you have a little human to take care of and katsuki could never question that. he makes a promise to commit to your little girl, not just you â not replace the place of her father but be someone the two of you can lean on when you really need it, when you feel like asking.
so there had been dates for two only ever when you had the time in your busy schedule for katsuki and sometimes dates for three when your parents were too tired in their older age for childcare and the sitters all fell through. katsuki bakugou, known for thinking fast and being sharp on his feet, always adjusted the plans he'd made to fit three.Â
fancy dinners catered to spoil you turned to lord dynamight in your kitchen after a late shift and a school run â making spaghetti bolognese with hidden veggies to get your daughter to have her five a day. romantic weekend getaways turned into road trips that included an educational outing to a museum or the aquarium â scrapped knees hanging over katsukiâs shoulders, new and matching keychains from the gift shop clipped to his car keys and her little backpack whilst the two wore twinning caps to cover their faces. identified hidden away from the paparazzi just for a weekend. shopping sprees where youâd end up draped in luxury morphed into grocery store runs on a sunday â narrowly dodging press and cameras as katsuki battled with your baby girl over which cereal was best for her growing teeth and bones.
it didnât matter what he wanted to do with you or when he wanted to do it â if you needed it, your daughter fit right in too.Â
as time went on, your clothes and her shoes ended up in all four corners of his place. two extra toothbrushes alongside his, unicorn themed toys and fairy princess tea sets dotting sleek black furniture which sort of needed to be baby proofed?Â
in turn and as some form of wholesome payback â you made a home out of katsukiâs actual home. brought him a warmth not even his quirk could provide, and he was happy. just you three turning into this domesticated version of a family he never quite thought heâd deserved. it felt like you were becoming a unit, especially after meeting his parents â your angel akari dressed to the nines in the sweetest little dress and you dolled up so nice the man could barely keep a straight face as his mother gave you the once over. there were two extra places set at the dining table from then on, one for you and one for your daughter. courtesy of mitsuri, who loved you both oh so much.
then one day, everything sort ofâŚshifts.
throughout your relationship and to your daughter, bakugou was known as âmommaâs hero friendâ or âmister dynamightâ on occasion. even if youâd talked about it extensively, late nights curled up under blankets whilst conversations of the future hang in the air, youâd laid down the law and let katsuki know the reality of fatherhood. you werenât looking for a replacement and certainly not for someone whoâd tear your daughterâs heart in two when worse came to worse. he knew that, he accepted it right away.
because he never wanted anything more in his life. all the parts and pieces of you, he wanted to keep to himself â even the little ones with minds of their own like akari. katsuki bakugou wanted all of it. the tears, the laughter, the anger. it would be his to keep, so help him.Â
so, your daughter knew that katsuki was something precious to her momma just like she was. that you kissed sometimes and held hands like other parents, she enjoyed it. innocent in her happiness for her mother, believing in a childlike way that there would be a fairytale ending in which her mother would get her handsome prince in the form of her favourite hero.Â
having him around meant more smiles, staying up past bed time and sometimes sweet treats before dinner if she could convince him hard enough. it meant being picked up from school in the coolest car on the block and getting to brag to friends about how many pro heroes come over for dinner on a wednesday night âcause thatâs when momma makes pizza.Â
having dynamight in her life meant you were happy, brighter than when it was just the two of you and in some child-like way â she recognised that. kids are smarter than adults give them credit for.Â
akari tells katsuki that she likes him, one night when heâs staying over and able to tuck her in. she asks him to stay forever in the middle of reading a bedtime story from school. peace at last, itâs called.
katsuki kisses her head as he turns the page; a silent promise. he doesnât trust his voice to speak as the warbled vowels and consonants cause an ache in his throat.Â
convention season rolls around at the end of the school year, like a step into the summer break that calls for fun, family and free time. naturally, work never slows for your explosive pro hero boyfriend â petty crime picks up under the blistering warm of japanâs sun, burning the backs of necks and kissing cheeks until theyâre rosy with heat stroke. yet, between stolen bikes and ice pops from elderly vendors on street corners â katsuki makes time for your makeshift unit of three, he holds the towels and the blue cooler filled with crunchy ice chips when heâs got time off to visit the beach and he takes your daughter to swim class at the outdoor pool on weekends to keep up with her lessons. even at work, thereâs space for you two.Â
bakugou gets you tickets to nearly every one of the annual conventions, hero or comic con, that heâs forced to sit at â do panels and press junkets and fan meets for. in the weeks leading up, where he stays at your place instead of his and takes refuge in the blanket fort heâd spent hours constructing with your baby ( now passed out amongst stuffed animals and fairy lights ), the blonde tells you heâs not cut out for the work that goes into being a pro hero. the social side. the smiles and the cameras and the encouraging messages to strangers with struggles a little different from his.Â
you smile, jamming a thumb into the crease between his brows and circle it teasingly. âcareful. youâll get wrinkles, hot shot,â you hum, turning on your side and curling into the beat of his heart. âwhat if we come with you? a familiar set of faces in the crowd⌠iâm sure kari would love to see you in action tooâŚâ
it doesnât take much convincing, not with the way youâve taken to drawing little shapes on katsukiâs broad chest â smiling softly to yourself like you, like your daughter, donât already own every inch of him. heâs yours, as much as the both of you are his. no need for words or papers to promise it.
babyâs first time at one of your boyfriendâs conventions is full of endless chatter, big spending mini managing. she pleads with him to purchase something from nearly every stall in artists alley, pinning princess luna badges and littlest pet shop stickers to the gruff, grumpy heroâs edgy costume. she delegates which prints get signed and in what colour sharpies at katsukiâs autographing booth ( most in pink glitter, some in orange or red ) and then grows brave enough to ask a question into the mic when itâs time for the two oâclock hero panels.Â
by your third, sheâs already an expert at con crunching â demanding that she cosplay all versions of lord dynamightâs hero costume so they can match in every photo. by your fifth that summer, things go awry.Â
the air is sticky in the way thatâs unpleasant â like the residue of candy smeared across your hands, stuck to the groves in your fingerprints despite how much you try to wash it off. itâs the kind of heat that clings to the tightest parts of your outfit, makes your entire body flush with sweat despite it hanging in the atmosphere. thereâs too many people around, fit together like sardines in a tinned can, and bakugouâs little family has grown weary from the day â the walking, the talking with fans and endless âsâcuse meâs and sorryâs that come with being in such an enclosed space.
the real icing on the cake, is when your job calls in with an emergency request half way through the fun.
âizukuâs assistant called out today, the convention flu is what theyâre calling it,â you say with a smile that seems to fray at the edges â tugged upwards by fine strings of parenthood and exhaustion. a mini lord explosion murder dynamight sits hungry and second away from a tantrum on your hip. âi think heâll need my help at his booth, heâs no good at conventions on his own.âÂ
âwant me to take her?â he nods down at the fussy baby on your arm.
âno, youâre working, kats. i.. we donât want to be a bother.â
youâre not. you wouldnât be. itâd be my honour. he wants to say, but the worry lines on your pretty face tell him not to argue or make a scene â he doesnât want to cause further upset. âthen my sidekickâll take her. sheâll be safe all afternoon. weâll get her some food ân somethinâ shiny to occupy her, then weâll be all good till deku lets you go. yeah?â
he leans in, pinching the chub of your baby girlâs cheek with such fondness you could mistake him for her father â she whimpers, stomach eating her little insides but keens into his touch like she trusts him. ââsuki, âm hungry!â
âi know aka-chan, weâll getcha somethinâ soon.âÂ
you look between the two and then the assistant who looks like heâs about to shit his pants. âi-iâm good with kids! i have little sisters!â his stutter makes you wince but youâre at your wits end, on a time crunch before the fuse on your little oneâs appetite explodes.Â
âokay,â you nod once but still unsure as you move into setting her on her feet before you â hugging her close to your legs. youâre trying to be better, at trusting and letting him help. after all, your baby, your akari might even trust him a little more than you. katsuki gets it, heâs never fought you on your decisions as a parent â since aka-chan is yours and the most precious thing you have. but this time, youâre letting go and giving into him, letting another piece of your heart drift to him over an open sea like heâs offered you a life line.Â
you take it, firmly. âjustâŚâ you look up at his sidekick. âsheâs got no allergies, but sheâs sensitive to lactose. sheâll fight you on it, âcause sheâs funny about her veggies but mae sure she eats them,â you instruct, strict. âher money is in the inside pocket of her backpack⌠sheâs got a limit on how many toys she can get today but more art is fine andââ
âweâve got it, right kiddo?â katsuki assures you, swooping down to be eye level with your grumpy baby. âyouâre gonna be good while momma works, yeah? that idiotâs gonna get ya some food, take you to artist alley and then weâll meet back here for my panel. howâs that sound?âÂ
âi am?âÂ
âyou are. thatâs what i just said, ainât it?â your boyfriend bites his tongue. careful of cursing in front of a child. itâs cute that he does that.
akari toes the floor with her light up sneakers as if sheâs tossing up her options â such a big decision for her age. eventually, the growling in her little belly out weighs the need to cling onto you and she topples into katsukiâs grip like it's home. âsounds good,â she looks up at you, pleading with puppy dog eyes to rival your own. âwanna go now momma.âÂ
âokay sweet girl,â you relent, brushing back her wild curls with tender affection. âbe so good while iâm gone. you know what to do if somethinâ happens?âÂ
âlook for suki or you ân scream as loud as i can!â she rolls up her sleeves, revealing his number written underneath yours on her arm. the sight makes bakugouâs weary heart clench at the inclusion. another little piece of your heart that youâre breaking and passing to him willingly. âask an⌠nâdult to call you if i get lost.âÂ
you crouch on her other side â kissing her warm chubby cheek. âgood girl, iâll see you soon. i love you so much.âÂ
âlove you more!âÂ
for an hour and a half you trust katsukiâs assistant with your daughter while the two of you work. the thought of her never leaves your mind, but you let yourself believe that everything will work out the way itâs supposed to. until a very panicked sidekick calls you, terror streaked throughout the water colours of his voice, crackled and broken over the static of the con crowd.Â
âm-mrs dynamight â i-iâm so sorry. iâ shit, i turned my back for just a second to talk to andâŚaka-chan. iâm so sorry. i lost her.âÂ
in that moment, you hardly register the slip up on your name. the implication of being seen as katsukiâs missus rather than his long term girlfriend. his partner. itâs the farthest thing from your mind, especially with the most precious thing in the world to you⌠missing. all the cells and plasma that make up your blood run cold, icy enough the blue your lips and freeze you in place and time. the art of breathing becomes difficult, staggered enough to deprive your heart and lungs all of all the oxygen that you need â it dizzies you so badly that you have to step away from the ebb and flow of izukuâs photo-op station.Â
he doesnât say anything aside from asking about your wellbeing with gentle forest eyes and brows twitched upwards. like a good man, he doesnât question it when you say you need to go. now.
at first, katsuki pays no mind to his phone as it buzzes once in the middle of his panel â once upon a time youâd scolded him to hell and back about keeping it on silent all of the time, worrying sick about his safety after villain chases on TV. he learned is lesson since, and, usually, itâs nothing.Â
a text about his day, a follow on instagram , the latest hero rankings and â sure, his sidekick was a little late to meeting up with him for the panel. and, yeah, you were still unfortunately wrapped up in business with your boss but katsuki believed it to be all under control. that his family unit was safe and sound. however, when his phone buzzes again half way through a question from a very nervous red-riot fan two seconds away from passing out â the blonde pauses, pushes through his answer with a curt politeness not even the head of PR could pull from between his perfect pearly white teeth and then lets his friends lead on the discussion, stories of their uprising to heroes and whoâs got the best suit.
useless, pointless, fan-fanatic bullshit that doesnât matter â not right now, not when vermillion eyes are laced with sheer terror and a level of panic katsuki hasnât felt since dying bursts painfully through his lungs.Â
YOU: akariâs gone. your sidekick said sheâs missing.
YOU: have you seen her? is she with you?Â
YOU: maybe she went back to the panel ??
YOU: kats⌠i canât find her
suddenly the room feels too big, there are too many cracks and crevices in which a little girl could get lost. stray hands, suspicious snarls flash behind his eyes â anything could happen to her, especially in a place like this full of people with both good and bad intentions. conventions are loud, busy and overwhelming even to the most sturdy of adults, let alone a girl just barely over three feet.Â
discreetly, he pings you a message. heâll take care of it, if you, the little girl his heart was already falling in love with and willing to keep as his own. the pro hero fires another one off to his agent across the room â catching her clipped demeanour slip for just a second, brief fear flickering across stone cold polished features before she pieces herself back together. she leaves the panel area, swiftly conducting her own search.Â
everyone is scared of a missing child, everyone automatically assumes the worst⌠but for katsuki bakugou he feels so much more intensely. he knows you; how you can barely stand to be separated from your daughter for more than a mere moment â after all, you are the only person who pulled herself apart to deliver such a sweet baby into the world. the only one who suffered through late night feeding and the terrible teething tantrums. through and through, you are that girlâs mother and he, a person you trusted to keep akari safe.Â
itâs taken you a lot to open up to bakugou, let him bear the brunt of parenthood alongside you after facing it all on your own for so long. and now, the culmination of your lifeâs work and love has disappeared within an instant â no thanks to him.Â
his heart races like heâs lost something of his own, nausea curling around the tangled organs in his stomach â twisting his thoughts into the worst possible outcomes. katsuki, for the first time since dying in his late teens, is terrified. questions without answers, ones where his brain confuses reality with the cruel diction of his mind start to filter through â is she hurt? is she sick? did someone take her?Â
the blonde must have visibly paled, all colour from his golden skin and dangerously vibrant red eyes has drained away as though someone has sucked the colour from live film, because kirishima nudges him â smile weak, barely there and suddenly the typically explosive number two hero is all too aware of the bright lights and phone screens and mics and curious eyes all laser focused on him.Â
âyou okay, blasty?â the red head whispers, drawing his mic away from his sharp-toothed mouth.
bakugou blinks once, twice â pulse erratic beneath his skin. he needs to go, needs to find her now. âwhat?â he snaps, without meaning to be vicious. âhuh?â
âitâs your question, dudeâŚâ kaminari speaks this time, tone etched with worry, from katsukiâs left.Â
everyone is watching, waiting, preying on his next move and all he can think about is the thought of your baby â hell, his baby, scared and alone and possibly with someone else. someone dangerous. the brutish proâs gaze scans the room, picking apart hair colours and face shapes trying to identify the kid and even flickers momentarily to his agent, who only offers him a frightening frown. no luck. fuck.
lifting his mic apologetically, mask suddenly too tight around his eyes and hero costume sticky against his scarred skin, katsuki takes a deep breath to steel his nerves. calm himself before the real pressure hits.Â
âlisten guys, fuck, i think i gottaââ
âdaddy!â
before he can even think of what to say, how to apologise for ditching a panel to search for a kid that isnât even biologically his â the little girl heâs so desperate to find barrels through the left lane of chairs that form his audience. akariâs sweet brown eyes are wet with enough tears to make up the volume of water in her teeny tiny body and her voice is shrill from crying. she runs past fans patiently waiting to ask questions to their faves, but bakugou can hardly care less â he matches her pace, stumbling from his seat down to the bottom of the stage where he scoops the tiny toddler into his burly arms.Â
cameras click, the crowd coos but all he can focus is the little girl quivering in his hold â her tiny fingers curling into the latex of his costume bound to all of his muscles, softening the embrace. âhey, hey. youâre okay,â bakugou mumbles against her hairline, hugging the back of her head to keep her close. âwhat happened, baby? yâget lost?â
she nods her head babyish as though sheâs afraid of getting scolded and tucks her face further into his strong neck. âdid everythinâ you ân momma said, stayed put a-and asked nâdult for help!â the tighter he squeezes her, the more akari relaxes â her hiccuped sobs retreating into small shaky sniffles.  âshowed âem your number on my arm n said my daddy was doinâ a play here. they helped me find you.âÂ
katsuki doesnât care about the snot on his clothes or the tears seeping through to his skin â the adrenaline stops him from focusing on it, heart racing faster than it would during any fight or patrol, only slowing once heâs got her safe and sound.Â
âthatâs good, bug, did such a good job.â he smiles softly, dazed and dizzy by her safe return and maybe the fact that sheâs called him dad. twice.
little fingers and tiny hands gesture towards the two starstruck teens dressed, funnily enough, as bakugou and deku. he gives them a wave, makes a mental note to sign their shit later and get a photo. heâll kill his sidekick afterwards. âdid so good, aka, betcha momâs worried sick.â
she makes a hybrid sound, half way between a whine and a groan â flinging little chubby arms around his neck as if they could get any closer than they already were. bakugou hums then, shoots a nod to his agent and hauls the little girl up to sit on his hip comfortably. as if itâs the most natural thing in the world, as if a toddler who no one knew about hasnât just screamed âdadâ and cried his name, the blonde breezes back up to the stage and resumes the panel â seating your daughter in his lap and whilst the audience oooâs and awwâs at her adlibs between questions.
she is a professional hero too, after all.Â
eijirou entertains big brown eyes and a fidgety toddler with his hardening quirk between questions, denki creates static in soft tendrils of hair which makes akari look a little bit more like bakugou. she paws at the mic to tell fans that their costumes are so cool and overall, her mood improves⌠because to her, katsuki is safe just like mom is. heâs home. someone she can trust.Â
he texts you an update, large palms curling around akariâs tummy to keep her sturdy.
KATS: stand down momma.
KATS: found akari, kid came to me all on her own.
KATS: meet us at the panel?
itâs not until one of the jittery teens who just so happened to rescue the baby girl bundled up in lord dynamightâs arms, that his attention ticks â gratefulness carved into his features, spread across this absentminded smile, pulling at thick sunny blonde brows. katsuki holds her a little tighter now, jogging his knee up and down to keep her soothed whilst she sits across his thighs, now playing with a pen someone had handed to her.
âhas anyone ever saved you? like⌠the way you save other people?â
the question drops like a flare in the night and while the other pro heroes answer both light and airy with their words â katsuki canât help but mull it all over. has he been saved before? yes. more times than he can count and whether he wanted it or not. there have been a myriad of instances where someone, somehow has kept him alive with just words or a thoughtful gesture even when he didnât deserve it.Â
but he knows now, that no matter what heâs done or said in the past â his life matters. his existence has been earned and heâs repented for his mistakes. if katsuki hadnât, he wouldnât be here. with you, with akari, with his friends right alongside him chatting away about the superficial things with the people who keep his career steady and stable. in a way, you saved him, akari saved him â the realisation is as sweet as honey on his tongue becauseâŚ
âyes,â katsuki answers without holding back, as if speaking his feelings is as easy as breathing in an icy gust of fresh country air. âyâknow, sometimes, beinâ a hero â you forget to take care of yourself. sâall adrenaline and beating down the bad guys, but you donât care what happens to you or your body in the process. just makinâ sure that everyone else is okay.âÂ
the blonde hero starts, occasionally poking the corner of his mouth with his tongue â deliberating on what to say next, what parts of his heart to share with the world where heâs usually so private. âbut then thereâs my kid ân my girlfriend. they care about the little bits of me that look invincible to everyone else, my little girl,â bakugou, despite holding the mic to his lips, presses them against the softness of akariâs hairline like heâs grounding himself. âsheâll ask me why âm so beat up ân bruised. play pretend doctor when âm over at her momâs until sheâs able to properly patch me up.âÂ
âhaving a family like this, blood or not, reminds me to take care of myself even while iâm doing my job.â something stirs in the distance, behind the crowd of convention-goers stacked up after rows of filled seats. âi started beinâ smarter during fights, gentler with the ones i know can go down easy. started thinking before jumping into it.â itâs just a little commotion. small, yet, urgent enough to catch the eye of the fabled explosive pro hero. he feels himself sit a little straighter, voice much more sure than before because through a sea of people â katsukiâs love lined ruby eyes find yours. a little frantic with motherly fear, a little glassy as if youâd been listening to him speak this whole time. âyou know, taking care of myself for the people who care about every bit of me.â
then youâre melting on the spot, all the tension in your shoulders eases and turns into pure relief once you spot your baby wriggling about on the edge of bakugouâs lap as if sheâd always belonged there and been a part of him. âso when i say, yes, iâve been saved. i donât mean in the physical way,â the hero ends his speech with a small nod your way, all of his heart entirely yours â signed off to you like his name has been printed on a contract. âi mean in the way that family can, that being loved can.âÂ
at first, the audience is quiet â not in a way thatâs awkward or pained, but the type of silence that makes you think. drink in the moment and appreciate what youâve been given. although the air tingles with warmth, the subtle scent of love mingling with every quiet break taken â thereâs some kind of emotive tension that thickens the atmosphere. in that silence, that tension, that quiet â katsuki finds you again. endeared and amused by the tears that threaten to spill over the apples of your cheeks, the acceptance on your face and the trust that underpins it.Â
as if you hadnât already known before, you know now that you can trust katsuki bakugou with the most precious thing you have.
off to the side, kaminariâs fond, amused laughter echoes through the mic and sends a warm vibration through the valves in your heart. âwoah, dude, didnât know you could be such a sap!â he jokes lightly, alleviating the weight in the room, though itâs not unwelcome.
âitâs not sap, iâm just being honest about real shit!â the lighter blonde retaliates with no malice behind his tone â everyone around him chuffs, entertained by the back and forth between two long time friends and amplified by a tiny hand slapping against his slightly stubbled cheek. the conventions have been busy, you like his peach fuzz but prefer when he shaves â only reminded by akari rubbing her little mitts over the gentle beginnings of a beard.
âthasâ a bad word, daddy. no swearinâ!âÂ
itâs not until later that evening that everything hits katsuki all at once.
youâre in his bathroom, the one he doesnât share with the three year old snoozing down the hall â brushing your teeth, face mask on, while his shirt hangs loose on your frame, swallowing you up because itâs however many sizes too big. heâs stepped back to give you some space, itâs been a long time since he learned not to mess with your night time routine â but katsukiâs grateful, it gives him a second to admire you, watch you move through his space as though youâve always been there. in that moment, you look like home and everything he fights to come back to. in that instance, you feel like his family that he canât see himself living without.Â
bakugou pushes off the tiled wall heâs been leaning on, the surface cold in comparison to your heated skin as he wraps sturdy arms around you from behind. the sight in the mirror above the bathroom sink is one of domesticity, a head full of fluffy straw blonde hair tucked carefully into the junction between your neck and shoulders, a hulking man curled around you like he canât get enough and his large, hands full of so much power, danger and love settled onto your soft stomach. itâs home. its safe.Â
you donât say a word but your body does the talking, sinking back into bakugou like you trust him to catch you if you fall. he moves with you, letting you finish off with your electric toothbrush â killing the buzz once youâre done with it before you swipe away the rest of your face mask. content to work in your arms.Â
slightly chapped lips graze the base of your throat, heated and careful â the ghost of everything he wants to say pressed into your skin.Â
calm stillness lingers between you both, your breathing syncs and you lean into one another because itâs been⌠a day. a day where the two of you have learned to give and trust in order to protect something you mutually love. you donât push, you wait for the thoughts that turn to phrases into katsukiâs mind and only reach back to rake your fingertips through his sun-kissed hair, soothing his mind where it canât catch up enough to let him talk.Â
âshe called me dad,â bakugouâs voice is gravelly, thick with emotion when he decides he trusts himself enough to speak. ânot just onceâŚlike three fuckinâ times and i know what that means. how heavy that is. wonât ever ask her to say it again unless she wants to but iââ
heâs rambling, he knows that â heâs not the type to lose his cool. itâs taken him years of trust and battle scars to let other people see the sides of him that are vulnerable and weak and care so damn much. yet, with you, it all comes too easy. as natural as a heart beat or filling your chest and lungs with oxygen.
in the mirror, katsuki catches the soft twitch of your lips up into an adoring smile â as though youâve realised something about him, this. he goes onto say. âshe called me dad and i⌠well, shit. i liked it. i loved it,â he hums against your neck, kissing in an attempt to hide his shyness in your baby hair. âand i swear, âm not talking shit. sheâs your kid and i love her and i know what this meansâŚbut if youâre okay with it, if you want me to. iâll step up, prove myself as someone she can call a father.â
âoh, katsukiâŚâÂ
turning in his arms, you canât help but sniffle â taking his face between shaky hands and cupping his cheeks. for three years, youâve done this all on your own. the late nights full of tears, the toddler temper tantrums and early mornings before school. toys scattered under your feet, styling hair where your mother never quite properly taught you how to do your own. youâve braved it all by yourself, hardly ever asking for help and here, now, comes this brilliantly stubborn man whoâs all rough around the edges and hardly cookie cutter ready to help you through it all.Â
he wants to be a father, he wants to help you raise your little girl youâve broken every part of you to protect. katsuki wants you to let him in for good, and your daughter does too.Â
he sees your eyes start to twinkle with tears once more and thatâs when katsuki laughs. quiet, breathy, fond. his scarred fingers sink from your waist to your ass, lifting you up until youâre able to wrap your legs around his hips.Â
âyouâll get dehydrated if you keep cryinâ today, sweetheart,â you donât mind the way he talks to you, all gentle and slow like katsukiâs bringing you down from an overwhelming emotion before it drowns out your voice. itâs so tender, reassuring to know that heâs got you. both you and your baby. ââm telling you now. i want this. i want her to be my kid, swear to god she might as well be. i love her, love you,â he rasps like itâs a promise â swearing to the invisible crown atop your head.Â
you press your forehead to his, eyes fluttering shut as youâre soothed by his confession. âtoday, when you said she was lost⌠i thought iâd die. donât laugh at me! i did!â mushy gushy words dissolve into his deep, rumbling giggles that send a burst of warmth through your being â even if youâre a teary, emotional mess katsuki can still make you smile. âlisten, i havenât panicked that much since i was a kid. a stupid one who thought that i could handle the world,â bakugou sucks in a breath. you feel it coast warmly over your bottom lip. âiâll do anything to never feel like that again, keep her close and safe âcause i feel like sheâs mine.âÂ
âshe is yours,â you say wetly, shaking your head of any tears that start to clump in your lashes. âsheâs called you dad after all. you might as well be.âÂ
itâs a bashful ask, but itâs you finally opening up your heart and tearing your walls down â youâre letting katsuki be akariâs father figure if he wants to and heâd be a fool to say no. saying yes means more summers like this, more melted ice creams in the back of his expensive car and sticky fingers that cup his face until he makes silly expressions. saying yes means school pick ups and drop offs where bakugou catches akari bragging about how cool dad is. saying yes means seeing her grow, means birthdays and parties and sweet sixteens and maybe even boyfriends. or girlfriends. or partners. and stern talking toâs. âif you hurt my daughter â iâll kill youâ kinda speeches.
katsuki never thought heâd say it, see it or get to experience it â but he canât wait to learn and to grow with you. to become a father of exemplary to his own and those that reared him from the rough and unruly scrappy kid he was to the man adored by you and your child now.
whatever the future may bring, he wants it. he canât wait for it. with the two of you close by his side.Â
âand iâm hers. iâm all hers and all yours. got me wrapped around your fingers you do.â he promises quietly, the seriousness echoing into the thick of the night â really meaning his every word.Â
you smile knowingly, teasingly and say. âwe know.âÂ
with you still in his arms and a kiss chastely pressed against your salt streaked lips, katsuki pulls the string for the bathroom light and trudges back to the main bedroom, a buzz of excitement for the future hangs in the air â plans for a family, for a ring remain left unsaid.
but one thing that remains for certain, is that your daughter, sweet kari, will be included in all of them. as she had been before.
akari comes knocking when the moon is up high, barely slipping through the curtains as she pads bare foot into the bedroom katsuki shares with you tonight.
âdaddy?â
usually youâd be awake and on it just from the sound of her little footsteps on the hardwood floor â jumping up in that way mums do where their eyes go wide and they pant like theyâve just been revived or come up for air. though tonight, youâre too exhausted to move, the fright from earlier on in the day and the struggle to wrestle akari down for bed has you more exhausted than youâll ever let on. but katsuki knows you, he lets you sleep. taking this new duty on.
he stirs on instinct, call it fatherly, but his body moves without thinking â he sits up, throws his arms open despite the sleep caked to the corners of his eyes and welcomes your daughter, his daughter home. âhey princess,â bakugou coos, and, as if heâs handling a fine china doll, carefully lifts the baby girl into his lap â heart trilling happily when she snuggles into the molten center of his chest. âshouldnât you be asleep? whatâcha doinâ up?â
âwanted cuddles.â she yawns, head bobbing while she fights to stay up. her chubby cheek rests squarely against the blondeâs heartbeat, sheâd never be able to tell it stopped once upon a time â not with the way it dully thuds against her teeny right ear.Â
rhythmic like a lullaby.
katsuki nods once into the dark, tendrils of tiredness begging him to come back to bed. however, he was a child once upon a time â he too ( not that heâd ever admit it ) used to wake up in the dead of night searching for comfort. even in his teens. after he was kidnapped. after he died. she must be having bad dreams. he figures. probably from getting lostÂ
âyou didnât want any from momma?â the heroâs leg bounces, in the way he knows comforts akari â her little curls swaying with the rhythm.Â
âmommyâs hands get cold.â she complains through another adorable yawn. âlike your cuddles. yâwarmerâŚâ
bakugou grins at that, vermillion eyes dancing with so much love and adoration you might mistake the grumpy pro hero for someone else. heâd gone soft, he knew that, but anyone with two eyes and a brain could understand why. standing from the bed slowly, and now, shifting to stand by the window whilst bouncing a sleepy akari on his hip â he warms the palms of his hands with his quirk in an attempt to lull his baby girl back to dream land. âfreezinâ arenât they?â he whispers as he nuzzles the top of her head, gaze switching from the glittering city he protects, below â to the preciously perfect little one he now protects, in his arms. âsâokay bug, iâll keep you warm then, right up until you fall asleep.âÂ
âpromise?âÂ
âpinky,â the blonde confirms. âdaddyâs gotcha.âÂ
ââmkayâŚâ kari somehow manages to get out, the syllables slipping away from her since sheâs already drifting, fist curled into bakugouâs sleep shirt. âlove you, daddy.âÂ
katsukiâs heart soars, the late night suddenly all too worth it. âlove you too,â he murmurs softly, voice sweet like molten caramel as he rocks the little girl until her body relaxes with sleep. âto the moon and back, kid.âÂ
so yeah, katsuki bakugou always been good with kids, but with this one, he swears â heâll be even better.
end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesnât do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! â asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Š TTEOKDOROKI 2020-26. all fanfics & layouts belong to me. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai, or recommend elsewhere.
you, ruining an undercover mission and just pulling a gun out: i asked you a question
assailant, looking to your partner for help: you can't do this!
your partner, looking at you and just sighing, and then also pulling a gun out: i believe my wife asked you a question
BABY DADDY MASTERLIST
â meet kenji bakugou yln!! the baby of yn yln and bakugou katsuki. no, theyâre not married⌠or in a relationship⌠yeah, you know theyâve never dated! it was just a one night stand and she still had the baby. i heard heâs a good father too⌠wait look, are you sure like theyâre not dating?
â tags: romance, angst, fluff, doctor!reader, baby mama!reader, baby daddy!bkg, pro hero!bkg, eventual smut, secret relationship, female reader
â if youâd like to be on the taglist: here
â #baby daddy bkg : everything on the blog about them!
001 CRUSH
â bakugou has a crush on his baby mama
002 BAD TO BETTER (2.6k)
â after a bad day at work, your baby father comes over to drop your kid home
003 THE REAL DYNAMIGHT (3.7k)
â you take it upon yourself to deliver this ugly yellow haired figurine prototype to the dynamight office
004 M.I.A (5.8k)
â pro hero dynamight is currently missing in action!
005 WONDER CHILD (5.6k)
â mr and mrs bakugou, can we talk about kenji inside please?
006 WISHFUL THINKING (5k)
â after practically begging for you to go on a date with him, bakugou katsuki is still yet to ask you out on one so you ask him to fix your car.
007 GOLDEN (13k)
â your baby father takes you on a date to a hero gala. he ends up threatening to kill someone.
008 GOLDDIGGER (?)
â the whole country thinks youâre a golddigger that baby trapped their favourite hero dynamight
other:
in the supermarket
questions
mama bakugou
more mama bakugou
questions
tantrums
HEAR ME OUT after heâs had his tattoo for you for like years you decide to get one for him on your hip bone. Except you donât tell him youâre getting it and he just sees it when he is about to give you head. Cut to the best crack of your lifeâŚ
i havenât stopped thinking about this since you sent it. i also like the idea of you getting it in japanese too. canon bfbkg bkg has a tattoo of your name on his collarbone so you match!
cw: suggestive, you get his name tattooed on your hip bone.
itâs just a horny little sofa makeout. after work, lights slightly dimmed and you pout at him for a kiss which turns into tongue and heavy petting and heâs pushing you down into the sofa to hover over you.
thereâs not even many words involved just moans and grunts to show youâre both loving whatâs happening. like always, the more aroused bakugou gets, the harsher his grip on you. he wants you so bad he doesnât know where to start first. wants to grip your hips and your ass but also caress your face and kiss down your neck.
âshit, i missed you,â he mumbles into your breasts, nipping your skin there with his teeth.
you widen your legs so heâs got space to fit his large body between and heâs trying to hold down your waist because you keep twitching out of pleasure.
âi saw you two days ago,â you breathe, taking your fingers through his hair.
he looks up at you, with his eyes narrowed, âand i canât miss you? canât even miss my girlfriend anymore.â
katsukiâs only humouring you, a twinkle in his eye as he sinks his body down, hands at the waistband of your leggings.
heâs gone down on you so many times, a conversation isnât needed anymore. it feels necessary for him, like he has to know what you taste like, more than he wants you to touch him or have intercourse with you. first he needs to feel you against his tongue, have you shake because of him. taste your pleasure with your thighs as earmuffs.
âno, you can miss me. itâs cute,â you say and itâs clear that youâre excited. actually, more excited than usual.
bakugou takes that to mean you must really want him. he is very good at giving you head.
âyeah, yeah whatever. i didnât mean i missed you, i missed her.â
you roll your eyes as you pull off your leggings, throwing them to the floor and pulling bakugou back between you, your legs locking around his waist.
but nothing can be missed by your eagle eyed boyfriend, especially not that second skin tape that peeks out of the band of your underwear. whatever tattoo is there is covered completely by your underwear.
âwhat the hell? what did youâ,â
four fingers tug your comfy lilac hipster briefs down and you get to see katsuki go through a rollercoaster of emotions.
the first is disbelief. him going to touch the sensitive skin beneath the plastic then stopping himself.
âis that fuckin real? and donât fuck with me.â he says your name sternly, the same word thatâs written under his collarbone in cursive.
you chew down on your bottom lip, nodding. your smile trying to spread. âit is, katsuki.â
he looks up at you for a second, then back down at the word on your hipbone. the same font as his. heâs rough when he manhandles you, adjusts your body like a ragdoll with his hands on either side of your hips so he can see it properly in the lamp light.
âyou fuckinâ didnât⌠holy fuckinâ shit.â he canât stop swearing, trying to find the words to say. âfuck, you got my goddamn name on you? when was this? why didnât you tell me? how the hell havenât i seen this yet?â
you laugh, reaching for the neckline of bakugouâs tshirt to pull it off. he lifts his arms to help and there it is. your name tattooed on him and itâs has been for about two years now. itâs his favourite tattoo of yours, one of many signs of pure devotion from your lover. he surprised you with it one evening but as taken aback as you were, you loved it. proof of your possession over him.
âhold on, baby,â you whisper and your lower half feels electrified when he kisses around it. you can feel his hot breath over you through the fabric.
âanswer me. i needa know.â
he listens while worshipping you, slowly pulling down your underwear and inhaling between your legs.
âi told you a few days ago mina went to get a new piercing and i went with her,â he hums, kissing the hair over your mound. your clit twitches. âi havenât told you but i have been thinking about getting a tattoo for you somewhere, i just never knew where, especially since you have like three for me.â
you stare at your name on his collarbone then you run your hand down his bicep. your birth flower, the date of your birthday all merged down his arm. just a few tattoos part of a bigger sleeve, for you.
âyeah?â he listens, kissing your thighs now. then he stops and look at your new tattoo again, like he canât believe itâs actually there. his name is on your body.
âand there was a lady saying how it was so painful when she got a tattoo here, by her hip and i knew i wanted your name there. not because of the pain but itâs a pretty spot.â
âfuck, baby. youâre fuckinâ crazy.â
âso i got it done then and there. i already knew what font yours is so i just copied. then my plan was to just wait until you saw it yourself. you saw me that evening but you had an early shift so i didnât sleep over at yours. so the next time i saw you was today. right now.â
youâre grinning, eager for him to get to work between your legs. finally get your prize youâve been waiting for.
âyou kept this a secret for two days? my name on you⌠so fuckinâ sneaky,â he exhales shakily, kisses your hip bone and then your thigh, âthis means youâre mine, right?â
âiâve always been yours but itâs like you say, now people know where to return me when they find me.â you run your thumb over his eyebrow and bakugou leans into it.
he chuckles, thick with tension, ânobody is looking here on you. this is for me.â
you palm his left breast, âand this is for me.â
âfuckinâ right i am. gonna fuck you good for this. gettinâ my name on you and only i get to see it.â he nudges his nose over your clit, then licks a stripe through your centre.
you nod rapidly, eyes squeezing shut and back arching. âhappy you like it!â
âi love it. fuckinâ adore it. i love you.â
cue after sex when he throws you onto his bed and heâs still between your legs staring at it.
âdâwe get this off in a week? let me be there when you take it off.â
the protective second skin covering.
youâre replying to a text on your phone before placing it down on his bed. âokay, iâll wait for you.â
âi still canât believe this,â he drawls laying on your stomach, his stomach face down on the bed, between your legs, âjust lookinâ at it is gettinâ my dick hard.â
itâs like something snaps inside of him, as he lifts himself up and peppers kisses all over your stomach, your hips and then thighs.
your giggles are uncontrollable, trying to kick him off.
âmind my tattoo! itâs still sore!â
he replies with a pinch to the underside of your ass.
âgonna get another for you.â
you roll your eyes, biting down on your bottom while he just looks up at you with a crazed grin. his eyelashes flutter, cheeks flushed.
âyouâve already got three for me. no more.â
âhow about your eyes right here,â he points to an empty space on the inside of his bicep. he flexes, then kisses the spot.
actually, youâre not against that.
â THE OPPOSITE OF A SLOW BURN masterlist
firefighter!bakugou x romance publisher!reader
when thereâs a false fire alarm in your office, you are gifted with the sight of the finest man youâve ever seen. you want him now.
tags: smut, fluff, 18+, attraction at first sight, reader is HORNY 24/7, nervous!bkg, somewhat of a chronological order, facts might differ throughout. mixture of fics n drabbles
everything is tagged under #firefighter bkg
FIRE STATION TOUR
THE OPPOSITE OF A SLOW BURN (4.3k)
FIRST DATE
TOP OF THE LEADERBOARD
HEAVY LIFTING
LOCKER ROOM TALK
FIREFIGHTER MC
BANANA BREAD
OVULATION
DADDY
BREAK!
ROLEPLAY
COULDNâT KEEP UP
AGAINST THE WALL
IZUKU
EMERGENCY CALLS!
CHARITY CALENDAR
THRU THE PHONE (2.4k)

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cw: tipsy bkg, head (m) (ikr how crazy), fluff, smut, established relationship. probably typos. iâll add borders later.
âwhereâŚ,â thereâs a soft slam of your front door, keys being thrown on the table and boots being kicked off. a light stumble with a swear tacked on at the end. âwhere are you?â
âbedroom!â you call, sitting on your bed to pull up your large pyjama t-shirt to the tops of your thighs and opening your tub of vanilla body cream.
your response gets an incoherent mumble across your flat as thereâs more shuffling down your hallway. a jacket being tugged off and⌠something else?
bakugou katsukiâs head pops through the doorway first. droopy eyes, wrinkled black t-shirt (he did leave here with a jumper so you wonder where that is) and no trousers (jumper is probably where the trousers are).
âdid you lose your clothes outside?â you laugh as strong thick legs wade their way towards you.
he moves like a zombie with his fluffy messy hair, slow walk with his arms out to you.
the six foot four pro hero shakes his head at you sloppily, towering over your frame for a second before dropping to his knees between your legs. he rests all his body weight on you, exhausted.
you watch him enamoured, like heâs a dog just trying to show he wants some attention. he circles his arms around your waist and his head drops on your lap, snuggling into you tightly.
âtook them off by the door. you donât like my jeans on your bed.â he breathes, closing his eyes, âyou smell so fuckinâ good.â
you opt to creaming your arms instead.
âdid you have fun tonight then?â you offer, dipping your fingers into the cold cream and slathering it over your arms. bakugou holds you despite your movement, pecking the bare skin of your thigh.
the man grunts, a slow lift and quick drop of his shoulders in a shrug.
âsparky is investinâ in a stupid cocktail company. he wanted us to try them all,â he sounds disgusted by it, âthey were all disgustinâ.â
youâve got a tipsy katsuki tonight. you smile down at him, pushing his hair off his forehead to get a proper look at his face. bakugou looks up at you, innocent and pitiful but you know heâs anything but.
âhow many did you have?â
âthree?â
âyou little lightweight.â
he opens his mouth to push his top row of teeth into your thigh. you splutter when it tickles, shoving his head off you. together you eye the imprint of his teeth as he sits back on his ass on the floor. just in his underwear and a tshirt.
âthey were high percentage cans. too goddamn high,â he huffs, eyes flickering over your body, âyou just showered.â
you nod, resting back on your arms behind your body. youâve finished moisturising, youâve done your skincare and youâre practically ready to roll into bed.
but itâs not often you get a drunk or tipsy bakugou. he hates drinking, was one of the first things he mentioned when he met you because he heard it was a dealbreaker for some. it definitely wasnât for you, especially when he said he just hates how slow and out of control it made him feel.
âyouâre like an â88 first edition gold rimmed mint all might winter suit card,â he rambles, standing up to push you back into the bed with all your confusion.
âwhat?â itâs times like these when you remember youâre dating a nerd.
he grabs your hips to push you up the bed so heâs got enough space to seat his body between your legs and rest his forearms by your head. you open your legs wider, letting his head sink into the crook of your neck.
you feel him inhale again as if heâs a wolf scenting you.
âitâs the best card you can get, rare as hell. less than twenty were made and itâs out of the old card material before that company went out of production,â you circle your arms around his shoulders, listening. bakugou, speaks into your neck, kissing after every couple words. âiâve got one of the cards. âts in my office.â
you lock your legs behind his back.
âokayâŚâ you drawl, brushing your fingers through his hair looking up at your ceiling with a frown, ânow whatâs that to do with me?â
bakugou freezes, resting on his forearms to look at you properly. you make his heart ache, a sharp pang in his chest and he grunts. your face has a glossy shine to it, the t-shirt youâre wearing (which is one of his) is fresh out the dryer with that cotton smell and youâre holding him just as tight as heâs holding you.
he doesnât realise heâs looking at you like heâs confused that youâre confused.
âcominâ in here was like openinâ a rare pack,â he sniffs and when youâre still frowning he continues, âyou ready for bed after a shower is my favourite you. seeinâ you is the same feelinâ as when i got that card.â
itâs soppy and silly.
âand that card is so rare and so are you. i have you and iâve got that card.â
you nod slowly in understanding and a small smile lands on bakugouâs cheeks.
âyouâre saying you love me a lot,â you reply, pouting your lips out for a kiss which he quickly responds to.
âiâm sayinâ more than that baby,â he whines but it only makes you laugh, âim sayinâ youâre rare and only i get to see you like this and iâm the fuckinâ luckiest motherfucker in the world.â
âyouâre a soppy nerd when youâre drunk, katsuki,â you slap your hand over his mouth before he can reply, âbut thatâs really cute. i love you too.â
ââm beinâ romantic. that card sells for thousands,â he whispers when he presses his lips against yours again but this time he opens his mouth and tilts his head. you copy, letting his tongue swirl with yours. minty fresh toothpaste with maybe a pina colada from him at the back. your body heats when the kiss gets messier, a moan releasing from the back of bakugouâs throat. when your legs tighten around him, thatâs when he gives in, letting the full weight of his hips rest between your legs.
you inhale when you feel him, hard and heavy, both covered by your underwear.
âwhy were you hiding from me?â you say as he runs his lips down your jaw. youâre reactive now, body jolting on its own, sighing softly from his thickness resting on your ass cheeks to your clit.
ââtâs fine if you donât wanna fuck. youâre goinâ to bed.â
âyou canât call me the best pokĂŠmon card ever and expect me to not want you,â you laugh to yourself and bakugou rolls his eyes.
âstop pissinâ me off. wasnât talkinâ about fuckinâ pokĂŠmon,â he curses but he canât help but kiss you again, right on your smile with your arms tangled around his neck.
though youâre clearly pressing him into you, lifting your hips to feel him.
bakugouâs completely aware of how much bigger he is than you. in size, in height, in power and yeah, even his cock. itâs because of all those factors, why he prefers for you to initiate, to stop him feeling like a raging beast pulling a princess from her tower.
he canât get his hands off you, now sneaking up your t-shirt to feel your hips, then your waist and your soft breasts. youâre smooth, a layer of that cream you just put on. good enough to eat with that vanilla smell.
ââki,â you breathe and he jolts his head up, âwhat do you want from me?â
bakugou wouldnât say heâs a horny drunk. well heâs hardly ever drunk for one so he wouldnât say heâs an anything drunk since he doesnât have enough data. but you came up in his mind more than usual while he was drinking with the boys and then his walk home. and he just said, this is his favourite you, after a shower and ready for bed. his rare all might card.
âdonât ask me that,â he grunts, but he starts grinding down into you without meaning to. you react like a flicker of a flame, soft moans from your throat. âwhat dâyou want me to do?â
âwhyâre you so stubborn?â you arch your back and bakugouâs greedy hands pull your top up to under your neck. your whole body exposed to him, minus your tiny little underwear bottoms.
ââcause iâm the one that came in here drunk and all over you.â but heâs speaking to your body like youâre a meal he needs to get his hands on yesterday. âfuck. fuck, youâre so beautiful.â
âtake your clothes off,â if you have to be in charge here, so be it.
your boyfriend listens, digging his knees into the mattress as he grabs the fabric at the back of his neck and yanks it over his head. you hum in appreciation, drifting your fingertips over his toned muscled chest. you point to his underwear.
âthose too. off.â
bakugou inhales sharply but listens, pulling the tight fabric down his legs and your mouth practically waters when his appendage slaps against his chest. his cock is right in your face as you lay back.
âitâs up to you, baby. donât wanna pressure you,â he warns, cupping his heavy balls for some release.
you know for a fact your underwear is stained through, especially when he throws his head back with a sweet curse.
âi know, i know. youâre so handsome, katsuki,â that gets him looking back at you. your face, then your tits, then back at you.
âwhat?â
âyouâre so gorgeous. iâm lucky to have you too.â
âfuck,â he canât stop swearing, taking hold of the base of his cock and squeezing. âi donât think i can fuck you, iâll come as soon as iâm inside.â
itâs honest and a little cute, a smile blooming on your face. you take the pause to pull off your t-shirt, throwing it off the bed.
âthatâs okayâ,â
ââtâs not. âm not usinâ you like that.â he shakes his head sharply, enough to know you canât change his mind on it.
âwhat if i want your dick in my mouth?â and you show him how as you sit up on your bed and he still rests on his shins. youâre at the right height to slide it in your mouth.
you press a kiss to his cockhead, licking up all the pre and pressing your cheek his length. ââki?â
you give him these round, shiny innocent eyes that hold the stars. bakugou feels as if he canât hold a single thought in his head.
âyou just cleaned up, âm all dirtyâ,â
âkatsuki, let me.â you push and he twitches against your cheek, âi really want to.â
itâs not often you give him head compared to how often he gives you head. bakugou is never one to ask for it and you rarely want to give it even though he always asks to be between your legs. you asking to suck him off is another rare card, a fucking â99 gold rimmedâ
âokay, baby,â he murmurs, moving all your hair out of your face and behind your shoulders.
âdonât touch my head,â you warn and bakugou nods his head rapidly, adjusting his hand to your cheek.
heâs on edge, holding his breath as you, his perfect, beautiful fucking girlfriend holds his cock with a single fist. then you hold the rest with your other hand, pointing it to your lips.
âiâm gonna come quickly. i already fuckinâ know i amâ,â
âthatâs fine, âki honey,â you soothe, âjust tap me when you think you are.â you lick around his sensitive tip with your tongue then you swallow as if youâre giving him a taste test. ânot bad,â you whisper to yourself.
then you get started. removing one hand to sink yourself onto his cock, just as far as you can go without choking. when his tip his hits the tightness at the back of your throat where saliva has gathered, bakugou groans, holds the underside of your jaw.
âsorry, fuck, sorry baby,â he grunts every few seconds, apologising for simply being a man aroused.
you bob your head, swirling your tongue around what you can and pressing your thighs tightly together.
youâve never been a fan of giving head but once in a while the want bursts through you, the power of having him under your command. this big groaning man falling apart because of you.
and katsuki is always a good listener. careful with you. makes sure not to buck his hips and you can tell he wants to because he bites down on his bottom lip. he doesnât stop with the noise and he never pushes your head down.
âso fuckinâ good,â he whines, throwing his head back. you sharply suck, your hand at the base of his cock squeezing tightly. his moan is crumbled, choked on every sound trying to escape, âtryna kill me? babygirl.â
you pull off him for a second, stroking him in the meantime as you wipe your nose. youâre just about to wipe your eyes when bakugou swipes his thumbs under them both.
âyouâre my beautiful girl.â
your moment of control falters a little, as you become focused on one aim and one aim only. your boyfriendâs pleasure and thatâs all.
âkiss?â
he ducks down, hand on your chin as he stuffs his tongue in your mouth. he takes control of the kiss, like heâs giving you mid sex aftercare, making sure youâre okay because you had his cock in your mouth for a few minutes.
âdoinâ so well, baby.â he speaks into your mouth, nibbling on your bottom lip before letting it snap into place.
thatâs enough, pushing him off you so you can take his cock back.
youâre faster now, less careful about being comfortable, especially when youâre able to sneak your fingers beneath your panties to press onto your clit.
your lips and cheeks suction around him, tongue flat on his underside. bakugouâs eyes widen, staring down at you. âholy fuckinâ,â
his hand cups the nape of your neck though he doesnât move you.
âshit, any more and iâm gonna come,â his deep grumbling voice gets pitchy, unable to keep levelled, âi really⌠oh shit baby.â
you place your hands on his hips to help guide your head. itâs loud, the sound of your spit and the friction of him. your small whines every time you rub sweetly on yourself and bakugou, his grunts take up the whole room.
he taps your shoulder lightly, âiâm gonna now. iâm fuckinâ,â
you slow down as he does, ropes of the stuff pouring down your throat. you let it all happen, laying a palm flat on his chest as the man above you grunts your name like heâs cursing you to damnation. he definitely isnât.
when heâs done he slides out of your mouth and you hop up to your bathroom to spit.
when you return only a few seconds later, bakugou is laying back on your bed with his arms open. two thick biceps wrap you up in a cuddle.
âi havenât forgotten about you. lemme see your panties.â
with your cheek pressed against his pectorals, you playfully roll your eyes.
âhow do you want me to show you?â you say, cheek smushed.
âsit on my face? or you lay back and i eat you?â he looks funny from this angle, lifting his head to look down at you. cheeks flushed and heartbeat still racing to come down.
âiâll sit on you.â you begin to sit up but pause, hitting his shoulder, âdonât look so happy!â
bakugou adjusts his body, hands finding your waist as you shuffle up. his smile could light up a city, âiâm lookinâ like you just accepted my offer to sit on my face. whatâs with you tonight?â
you pout, sitting on his upper chest, âwhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âyou donât usually ask to suck me off. you usually say no to sittinâ on my face. todayâs my lucky fuckinâ day.â
itâs true, you always moan itâs too intimate but letting him eat you any other way.
you shrug softly, pulling off your underwear and throwing it in his face. bakugouâs a dog with a ball, grabbing the fabric and stuffing it under his nose.
âanother rare pull for you.â
âââ ŕ°ď¸.â Tired after patrol Ë.âÖš
á¨á¨ ཟ á¨â đ °
Why don't you help him to relax? đđ
Art by me, Manu Kwaracy!
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